HoloNet News PAJAMA BANDITS RAISE CHILD ARMY. CHILDREN'S CRUSADE?

[JJ Johnson]

The Galactic Bugle theme would blair over the all the holo channels, it was quite catchy. As the tune play, so would flashes of the riots now at play in the lower levels of Coruscant as civilians march with signs that read "NO MORE SITH! NO MORE JEDI! #CANCELTHECHIEF!" As the screens flick through the final seconds of the tune, a small tribute to Lenny would show saying "RIP Lenny, you died for truth, we got it from here."

As the tune faded out, JJ would blow out a perfect smoke ring "JJ Johnson, here, and I just want you to know that not a single violent act from the Jedi, Sith, or any of their fanatics will keep the Bulge from reporting COLD, HARD, FACTS! Ya hear that, Pajama Bandits?!" he'd yell out with a clenched fist. "Now I bet you're sitting at home, watching this broadcast and thinking to yourself 'JJ, they can't get any worse, can they?' Well, they can! We have three eyewitness accounts surmising that a Sith and Jedi altercation on Coruscant are what caused the ship to go down and kill Lenny! We will have our justice! One of them were even willing to go on the air with a recorded broadcast! Proof for these so-called 'Rangers'."

The holo would shift as it began to play a recording of the crashing ship, a voice playing over the video. "It was crazy, I'm out here, ya know doing what I do. And I just see all these uhh.. Pajama Bandits just leap on the ship that does the ramming and force the pilot to do what they do. And then, they go through the breach after it touches down. It was wild."

After the snippet the camera cut back to JJ "Just outright despicable! And you know what? It gets worse! We have a reporter on Corellia, B'lake!"

The holo shifts once more to a nervous looking human. "Thanks JJ! B'lake Randolf here, on the streets of Corellia. What brought us here you ask? Reports of a Jedi child training camp. That's right, the Jedi are creating -CHILDREN- soldiers. Can you believe it? I can't! But I got the proof!"

the scene would shift to show a woman throwing knives at kids then forcing a zabrak and a twi'lek to fight her, while an Ithorian in Jedi robes forced a Nautolan and a human to fight. The all used live weapons, no training gear mixed in the lot of them. Then it would shift back to B'lake.

"JJ, we have a still of the scene and we already ran facial recognition, so Ill leave the reveal up to you. This is B'lake Randolf here, JJ back to you!"

The holo would then shift back to the newsroom, followed by another perfect smoke ring and an all around disappointed JJ as he munched on the cigar in thought. "I have been saying it for decades! The Jedi! Are! Menaces! Look at how disgusting they are! They got tired of using us 'normal' people, so on top of already abducting children from families, they're forcing themselves to kill each other in training on the poodoo heap that is Corellia, no doubt! I bet they even have a hidden temple there! Corellians! I implore you to root out the Pajama Bandits! Save yourselves!" he'd slap the desk before pointing back to the camera. "Now for the saddest snippet! Not only have the Jedi gone and used that poor A-aron boy as a sacrificial lamb! They have gone and sent him to their slaughter camp on Corellia! Ya done messed up A-Aron! The Jedi don't care about you! But maybe this inkling of coverage will get the authorities to help you! Alright Buglers! That's all the time we have for today, but keep the momentum! NO MORE SITH! NO MORE JEDI! HASHBROWN CANCEL THE CHIEF!"

The bugles theme would play as the holo ended, with a banner that said. "Believe in Change, vote for Emryc for office."

 

[Hera "The Joyful" Albion]

Hera sat quietly watching the holonet, her goggled eyes slowly following the scrolling text at the bottom of the screen. "PAJAMA BANDITS RAISE CHILD ARMY. CHILDREN'S CRUSADE?" Perhaps another, seeing themselves slandered as such, might react with anger or rage. Hera could only laugh.

Although the Jedi had few connections, she was able to get in touch with a local reporter on Corellia. There would not be a galactic response to the Bugle's slander, but Hera was able to speak to the people of Corellia themselves and that was more than enough. Sitting in a small newsroom on an old couch, the red headed Arkanian grinned authentically as the reporter spoke, "So Miss Albion, you are the woman we can clearly see in this recording, fighting what appear to be young men and women, what exactly is going on? Are you training a Child Army?"

Laughing, Hera responded, "A child army? What are we, some sort of dark brotherhood from a holodrama? No no, my apprentices and I were putting on a show for the locals! We even told them beforehand that we would be out at that time, in fact we gathered quite a crowd looking in from windows and storefronts. The Jedi are a monastic order, and as such we follow ancient customs that may not be easily understood by sensationalist, partisan newscasters. If you catch my meaning-"

The reporter, nodding along, began to smile as Hera, barely able to contain her own laughter, continued. "I mean, come now, Pyjama bandits? What- ha ha- what kind of nonsense is this? We don't steal babies, and we don't force children to fight a, what was it? Crusade? Goodness, how silly. We're humanitarians, not madmen. We're even in the process of setting up refugee camps on Coruscant for displaced beings. Let's not kid ourselves. There may be darkness in the galaxy, but it certainly isn't being 'rooted out,' by bugle blaring bums, banging on about bantha poodoo. This is a wonderful world, and we hope to be able to begin more humanitarian aid campaigns here as well."

The reporter, nodding, responded briefly to Hera before turning to the camera, "We're so glad to hear that. Now we did send a man on the ground to the area where the Jedi were putting on their show to gauge the local's opinions. Jaum-?"

A middle aged Sullustan took over the screen, "That's right Bhabara. I'm here with a couple local kids who said they saw the 'show' as it has been referred to. Kids-?"

A handful of eager, bright eyed children with sticks barely paid the reporter any attention as they swung the objects at each other. Through the whooshing noises they made, half a dozen ecstatic descriptions of the show overlapped each other. The twists, the turns, the twirls! On and on-

 

[Rahla Vimt]

Rah’la sat in seiza before the holoprojector staring at the image of her mother transmitting from the coral garden outside the front archway to their aquatic home, her head tresses free to aid in communicating her feelings about every word she spoke to her daughter as they performed subtle motions in the water and adding a depth of layering to the rant.

”Your father and I did not agree to you going off world to be trained by Master Oorrl Fonwim”, and the way she pronounced his last name, elongating the vowels even more than needed, made it clear how he was on her bad side, ’to become PAJAMA BANDITS on some CHILD”S CRUSADE!!” Her mother’s voice grew louder and Rah’la bowed her head to her thighs three time before she managed to speak.

”You know The Galactic Bugle is nothing but yellow journalism”, she began but her words were interrupted by her mother’s screech,

”PAJAMAS!!”

She continued her defense, ”Robes. And It’s not a child army”

”CRUSADE!!!” she bellowed.

”But a force of good in the galaxy” the teenager went on to say. A hand entered the field of the transmission and a soft voice could be heard, a male voice, but the words were not clear.

”BANDITS!!!!”, came the successive squawk only for the woman to be drawn aside and Rah’la’s father appeared taking his wife’s place. Though his voice was more measured and certainly more sane, the message was much the same.

”I know you have good intentions Rah’la but your mother is right. This is not why you were allowed to leave school early and go off to be educated by this…” he ceased speaking and his image turned to the side slightly while he appeared to be waving at someone to sit down. Her mother screeched out one word but it was too indistinct to communicate anything but her outrage.

Rah’la jumped into the moment to speak up in her defense. Surely her father, being more rational, would at least let her complete one sentence. ”Father I’m not a child any more than the other Padawans are that were performing for the local residents. It was for entertainment…”, but sadly her hopes were dashed when her father cut her off.

”Rah’la. You may not be a child but you are only 19 years old an by law not yet an adult.” He paused to hold up a hand and silence his daughter who had opened her mouth to object. Shutting her mouth tight, she sighed and prepared for the lecture. It was not an enjoyable night. By the time the call was over the medical droid had given her mother oxygen twice and Rah’la was pledged to a deal. If she was ever shown on the Holonet again in such a negative light her days as a ”PAJAMA BANDIT”, would be over.

Released at last, Rah’la lay back on the floor and wished she had the luxury of hyperventilating. She could use a drink.

 

[Tacitus Agrippa]

Tacitus stared at the screen, blinking a few times as he tried to make sense of what he had just heard and seen on the most recent holonet broadcast. But once again, nope, he didn't actually take it in really. So he reached up and rewound the coverage to the start of the broadcast and watched it through.

Watch his ship, The Garrison, ram into another ship and 'eye-witnesses' go out of their way to say that Jedi and Sith had been responsible - hell someone even caught some grainy-ass footage of him in full armor.

With his rifle out.

"... it's the spice, right?"

He sniffed a little bit, rubbing at his nose to try and move the irritating speck of spice that had been caught in his nose for the past twenty minutes. It might have started bleeding at one point too but that just made the spice hit harder. Tacitus hadn't done spice in almost two years but after his time on Coruscant he might have gone a little bit wild.

He blinked a few times before staring down at his hands.

"The news says it was Jedi or Sith or whatever so..."

His thoughts were so sluggish but he reached the only conclusion.

"Maybe I AM a Jedi... whoa..."

 

[Oorrl Fonwim]

The Ithorian sighed softly as Rah’la’s parents droned on and on over the Holoprojector. From what the Jedi gathered they’d already given their daughter a talking to and, having not vented their ill-aimed anger enough they’d decided to give their child’s guardian a talking to.

“Your daughter is 19 years old.” he said patiently, speaking slowly so that his translator could keep up. “She is not a child.”

The mother began screeching about something called “Pajama Bandits”. Oorrl only a vague idea of the broadcast she was talking about. The Ithorian didn’t watch trashy news shows.

“I was present after all. The situation was quite safe. We had two Jedi Knights in attendance.” he explained.

“Yes bu-”

Oorrl interrupted the father feeling his patience being stressed. “Your daughter has been training for years to focus her mind and body. She was more than capable of a simple training session, the same can be said for the other students in attendance.”

”SHE’S ONLY A CHILD!” yelled the Mother.

Having a had enough the Ithorian used the Force to covertly disengage his Translator.

“Well I am sorry that you feel that way.” Oorrl said in Ithorian.

”WHAT DID HE SAY? WHAT'S THAT NOISE?”

“Mister Fonwim I think your translator has broken.”

Spending a few moments making a show of pretending to reactivate the device before shrugging. “Sorry it seems to be broken. We shall resume this call later.” he lied before swiftly switching off the call.

He felt bad for deceiving his Padawan’s parents but only a little. They needed some time to get over their hysterics before resuming this conversation.

Straightening up and taking off the translation device Oorrl left the room.

He was going to have a talk with Rah’la about sharing his personal Holo-Number with her parents.