HoloNet News Solidarity

[Douglas Hudson]

The Holonet had been abuzz lately. It seemed like every other day there was a new development in the galaxy, and someone, somewhere was being criticized openly or fueling some form of propaganda. The untold trillions of the galaxy – those who could access these newsfeeds, anyways – were constantly fed news from the different sides of this conflict. Some days, the Jedi were the heroes of the common man, and other days they were worse than scum. This had been one of those days, and it took some considerable deliberation on the part of the Sector Ranger Chief to determine his next move.

Douglas Hudson now found himself in an office facing a camera drone. A stack of files sat neatly on his desk, having been straightened up to at least provide the appearance of organization. His blaster rested just barely in the frame, having been tossed on the desk without an afterthought. The camera began rolling, and they had a good feed to the Holonet for broadcast.

”Citizens of the galaxy,” he said, his voice still slightly strained. It still carried with it the robust tone that commanded respect from even the most stalwart of his subordinates, but the attack that left him hospitalized still left its scars in various places. ”The galaxy is in a state of tumult. Across the hundreds of star systems within the Free Worlds Alliance, terror and crime plague our society.” He paused for a moment, taking a breath. This galaxy was expansive, and the Sector Rangers could only do so much. With the aid of the Jedi, they could take the fight to the scum more than they ever could, but this pact of friendship had been strained lately.

”We have been battered, beaten, bruised, and bloodied,” he continued, ”But we have not been broken. This holds true of our Jedi allies, as well,” he said sternly, ”Despite the attack on their character, they remain a vital ally to the free citizens of this tormented galaxy. We will investigate these grave allegations made against them but make no mistake – we stand in solidarity alongside the Jedi Order. Do not give in to the anti-Jedi sentiment, do not fall victim to propaganda. To be divided is to allow those who would see your societies destroyed a victory they have not earned.”

He shifted in his seat, still focused on the camera. ”A strong and free galaxy is one that denies its enemies power over their minds. The security of our worlds has always been our priority, and a few bumps in the road will not deter us from ensuring that you and your families are defended.”

 

[Corran Velt]

Discipline was one of the few things in the galaxy that had to be earned. You couldn't be born with it. It couldn't be gifted to you. Discipline had to be earned through rigorous training, constant adherence to restraint, and strict obedience. It had to be forged, polished, and kept strong. Like armor. Armor that provided protection from vices and sin. Corran had earned his discipline aboard a merchant ship on the trade lanes. The kind where the captain wouldn't hesitate to throw someone in the brig for minor offenses. Everyone worked and rotated shifts. All forms of gambling, drunkenness, and addiction were thoroughly rooted out and punished. Only ashore did the crew enjoy trivial delights. Corran had the unruly, disobedient youth squeezed out of him. Once he resigned his position to join the Sector Rangers, the only thing he took with him was his armor of discipline.

In the years since, that armor had been tested time and time again. Bribery, violence, temptation. All these things had tried to shatter that armor. Some had failed entirely. Others left small nicks or dents. Only two things truly battered that discipline. Like a mace against iron. Force Cults... and Chief Hudson's damn speeches. The young ranger lieutenant was aboard his ship, the Crimson Venture preparing to take off for Nar Shaddaa. For the coming operation against the Sith. While packing away everything he could possibly need, the news that was playing in the background on a small screen was mostly to just add some noise to an otherwise quiet ship. Until Chief Hudson appeared to address the public. Corran took a seat, upright and respectful, at the engineering suite where the screen played the speech in full.

As the leader of the Sector Rangers finished, the blond ranger sat in the chair silently for a moment before rigidly leaning forward and pressing a button on the console that paused the screen. It caught only Chief Hudson's profile as he left the podium. Blue eyes unblinkingly stared at the image for a whole minute. Robotically, he rose from the chair and turned as if to make his way to the circular table that held all the equipment he was packing for the mission. He didn't even take a single step. In that moment... the armor shed itself. "Are you KIDDING ME?" Corran roared as he suddenly swung a kick at the chair he previously sat. It was bolted to the floor, but it spun in circles wildly. "Another! KARKING! UNITY! SPEECH!" Incensed, the young man lashed out a fist towards the metal wall and landed a punch that echoed against the metal.

Chief Hudson's profile remained unbothered at the display. Huffing out of his nose like some snarling beast, the blond ranger jabbed an accusing finger at the screen. "The FIRST THING you do out of the hospital is kiss up to those CULTISTS? Every time you do this! Every time!" He began pacing now. "Rangers are dead, you stupid kark! And you go on the galactic net to kneel before the Jedi? That's all you do! Tell us to turn the other cheek and bow before the Jedi!" Another finger jolted towards Chief Hudson's visage, shaking in rage. "A few bumps in the road? A few bumps? Those bumps are my friends' graves." That last word hissed with vitriol. Countless had died since this all started. The Coruscanti prison. Corellia Station. Headquarters. Were these the bumps in the road?

In a vain attempt to sooth his own fury, Corran distanced himself from the screen and leaned on the table of equipment. It all bothered him too much. He couldn't focus on his work. "The Jedi have only caused us grief. They launched some damned assault on Sullust to supposedly rescue Lieutenant Aran and now we don't even know what happened to her." Shaking hands gripped the helmet he had made. It looked skeletal. The viewpoints menacingly small. Corran's voice grew quiet, "Is that all she is now, Chief?" He looked over his shoulder back at the screen. "Another... BUMP IN THE ROAD!?"

With primal fury, the blond ranger swung his arm to hurl the duraplast helmet at the screen. In mid-arc, the artificial light glimmered against something metallic that had sat in the shadow of the helm. The light arrested the throw and forced everything to freeze. Corran's gaze slowly turned to the source. His Sector Ranger badge. Polished, as always, it looked as good as the first day it was minted. A labored, shaky sigh escaped his lips. Discipline was slowly returning. He tucked the helmet under his arm and took up the badge. It shone brilliant in the light. Corran was heading to the criminal den of the Smuggler's Moon, away from Ilana, and into certain danger for this. The badge. Real justice. "Not for you, Chief." His head turned to stare at the screen with daggers. "You may think we can't do anything without your precious Jedi, but we'll prove you wrong." Strong fingers curled around the badge and clenched it within a secure fist. "We'll do it in spite of you." Boots marched across the metal floor back to the engineering suite. "Without you." A press of the button forced the screen to black.

 

[JJ Johnson]

The Galactic Bugle theme would play before the holo focused on the overly charismatic and legendary Jayce Jonas Johnson. Cigar clenched between teeth and that look of of defiant zealotry upon his face. "JJ here! And I know you just watched some grade B bantha shit from the head Jedi Tooter, Chief whatever. Who cares! This senile old bay should have retired a year after the Empire fell, hah! So we're going to go ahead and start this here folks! I want you guys to hit the Tweeter with some hash brown Cancel the Chief!" The request would show on the holo #CanceltheChief.

"That's right, I am willing to chalf up this Ranger folly and put it on the shoulders of the one man that calls all the shots! Your Chief has just waved off the deaths of countless of your fellows and written it off as speed bumps! So Sector Rangers, do the right thing! Force the Chief to step down! Do your jobs! To further reinforce this, I'll take you to my less charismatic reporter on the streets of Coruscant! Lenny!"

The holo would shift to a terrified looking human, clutching his midsection. "Lenny Tester here in the underlevels of Coruscant!" All around him people were chanting.

"No more Jedi! No more Sith! Cancel the Chief!"

Lenny would cautiously make his way over to one of the people and tap them on the shoulder. "Can't be too careful folks. I've been stabbed thrice." He whispered to the camera. "Sir! Sir! What are your thoughts on the Sector Rangers?"

A disgruntled human would turn, his dreds held in wild directions. "I'll tell ya what, f dem fuzz! I saw this egg thingy dragging my cousin ray ray up the block! Cancel the Chief! No more Sector Rangers!"

Lenny stepped away. "There you have it folks, no more Jedi, Sith, or Rangers. That's right, just the strong and loving hands of the press!"

The holo would cut out and back to JJ, blowing another perfect smoke screen. "Unfortunately, what you just witnessed was a recording! Lenny Tester died when some Menace crashed a ship during rush hour! JJ out, keep up the fight, Buglers!"



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