“Chandrila is a jewel of the Core Worlds but has historically harboured factions of dissent and treason.”
― Colonel Maximilian Veers
Fiach’s ship dropped out of hyperspace.
There, looming into view, was Chandrila – a small, blue-green planet, once home of the nascent New Republic. Nearly idyllic, Fiach thought, absent-mindedly, with its calm seas and rolling hills. The weather was mild. The seasons were present, but never dramatic. The people were peaceful – if a trifle haughty and pedantic and definitely over-invested in politics.
The recent Sith attacks across the galaxy had left the Free Worlds Alliance rattled and even the residents of the Core Worlds seem troubled: who knew what volume and capability of assets the Sith could call upon? Hence the growing call for some sort of extraterritorial fleet. Fiach wondered how such a thing would be agreed, let alone managed, but that was not her call to make. She had heard the counter-arguments of course. Is this the start of another Republic, or even Empire? But the pressing danger was taking precedent over political nerves. If pressed, Fiach would honestly state she supports the establishment of a Sentinel Fleet. If nothing else, it might deter the Sith – or at least slow them down, so that they can be identified and dealt with appropriately.
Which was a long way around explaining why Fiach was here – and due to meet someone she’d seen before but not formally met.
In one direction are the rolling hills and sweeping meadows of Chandrila: the soft balmgrass and spiky orcanthus are already turning from red to green with the coming of spring, and the sun and clouds cast shifting, shimmering shadows over the land. In the other direction is the Silver Sea, its placid waters as calm and grey as slate. Out over the water, bands of dark clouds roll, spitting rain and pulsing lightning. Another symptom of the seasons shifting from winter into spring.
So, landing codes accepted, her ship set down at the Senator’s residence. Even as she lands, she sees signs of a disturbance and quickly disembarks.
@Eisa Wex
― Colonel Maximilian Veers
Fiach’s ship dropped out of hyperspace.
There, looming into view, was Chandrila – a small, blue-green planet, once home of the nascent New Republic. Nearly idyllic, Fiach thought, absent-mindedly, with its calm seas and rolling hills. The weather was mild. The seasons were present, but never dramatic. The people were peaceful – if a trifle haughty and pedantic and definitely over-invested in politics.
The recent Sith attacks across the galaxy had left the Free Worlds Alliance rattled and even the residents of the Core Worlds seem troubled: who knew what volume and capability of assets the Sith could call upon? Hence the growing call for some sort of extraterritorial fleet. Fiach wondered how such a thing would be agreed, let alone managed, but that was not her call to make. She had heard the counter-arguments of course. Is this the start of another Republic, or even Empire? But the pressing danger was taking precedent over political nerves. If pressed, Fiach would honestly state she supports the establishment of a Sentinel Fleet. If nothing else, it might deter the Sith – or at least slow them down, so that they can be identified and dealt with appropriately.
Which was a long way around explaining why Fiach was here – and due to meet someone she’d seen before but not formally met.
In one direction are the rolling hills and sweeping meadows of Chandrila: the soft balmgrass and spiky orcanthus are already turning from red to green with the coming of spring, and the sun and clouds cast shifting, shimmering shadows over the land. In the other direction is the Silver Sea, its placid waters as calm and grey as slate. Out over the water, bands of dark clouds roll, spitting rain and pulsing lightning. Another symptom of the seasons shifting from winter into spring.
So, landing codes accepted, her ship set down at the Senator’s residence. Even as she lands, she sees signs of a disturbance and quickly disembarks.
@Eisa Wex