Gash hated politics. It was a sickening side show game that came with every leadership position; and oddly enough, despite the fact it tended to interfere with a ruler's ability to govern effectively, many leaders thought it the core of being a leader of men. The be all and end all of rulership. Which, in and of itself, was stupid- but political functions were like gatherings of the blind. And Gash was finding himself drawn into the world of politics because of his rule over his tropical homeworld, Asthentia; but he wasn't all the way in yet, and in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.

So the Jedi Master stepped lightly at the summit, choosing conversations wisely. Force sensations of those who were shady characters, with hidden agendas, were useful, but even those who appeared honest seemed to have some sort of deal they wanted to cut him concerning Asthentia's ample supply of power-generating fuel.

The multiple varieties of beings which populated the ball room in the Corellian palace made things doubly difficult. Gash had to guard his thoughts- species like the Zabrak, of which his blood consisted partially of, were not altogether unique in the galaxy; species with the ability to read the emotions of other beings. Betraying his desire to get out of the gathering as soon as was sentiently possible could be deadly to his homeworld's relations with other planets. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the looks he would sometimes recieve from a four-eyed being here, a three-legged alien there, were looks of great suspicion and distain.

It was, in fact, a rather beautiful ball room. Which wasn't surprising; Gash had been party to the planning of the summit, and renting the palace had been extremely expensive, taxing even the resources of the New Republic. The brilliant, polished white Mon Calamari coral walls glittered with the magnificent brilliance of the studded sparkling Corusca gems. Asthentian marble tables provided by Gash himself were covered with exotic Twi'Lek dishes, including a spicy minock dish that the brain-tailed aliens apparently adored. The Jedi Master had found it repulsive at first, but found you could barely taste the minock; it was hard to taste anything when your mouth is on fire.

Without thinking, Gash treaded on the foot of a tall, thin being. He instinctively rushed to apologize, but recognized the sentient after a moment of profuse apology.

"Garen?"

Garen was a member of the gangly-limbed reptillian species known as the Krick, which shared Asthentia with the humans who had colonized it. Gash had not even known about the creatures until he inheirited the position of King-Master; when he had gone out as an ambassador to meet a clan of them, he had immediately requested one or two of the highly advanced beings as personal aides.

'Indeed, Jedi Master Jiren. This Krick is most pleased to greet you once more, and requests you give chase as he retreats to the Asthentia embassy.'

Krick were amazingly advanced in mathematics and language, and often referred to themselves as, 'This Krick', or in the third peson.

"Why is that, Garen?"

'Garen does not wish to divulge said informarion in such a... public place.'

Gash looked quizically up at Garen for a moment, slicing silently into his mind. The Krick was sincere, and with good reason. The Jedi nodded.

"As you wish. Lead on."

The speeder was fast, and the ride over quickly. Gash thanked the driver, waving aside his request to open the door of the vehicle for him, responding that he wasn't royalty. It struck him only after he'd left the man staring puzzledly at him that he was, indeed, royalty.

The Krick and the Royal Asthentian entered the Asthentian embassy of Corellia silently, proceeding to a quiet, secluded conference room. Garen stared gravely at Gash as they sat.

'As you know, Master Jiren, the Krick have been delving deeply into the Unknown Regions. This Krick belives we have been most faithful intelligence operatives, and requests your patience and understanding with our recent obsession with the Unknown Regions of our galaxy.'

"It's okay, Garen. I'm just as curious as you about the area- and I can't think of any species in the galaxy better than the Krick to act as my intelligence operatives. You've provided me and the New Republic with invaluable information."

Garen nodded, seemingly caught off-guard by Gash's compliment. 'The Krick thank you for your kind words. But we do, now, have progress to report, and are most pleased to serve you well.'

"Really? The Unknown Regions have been a mystery to the people of this sector of space since time immemorial... even the Empire, who possessed a Chiss as a Grand Admiral, do not know anything about the area. Knowledge of it died with Thrawn."

Garen seemed to smile confidently before proceeding. 'Yes, and This Krick finds it most curious you should mention the Grand Admiral Thrawn. For it is with his mysterious species that our discovery is concerned.'

"What...? You mean..."

'Yes. The Krick hold a legend, a tale of a blue-skinned humanoid who walked among us, and brought great knowledge to our species. Triald'Tere'Grenth. It was after we discovered Thrawn's true name, that we began to look at the tale more in detail.'

"All myth begins with truth."

'Yes, indeed.'

"And... you've... found it, Garen?"

'Yes, we have.'

Grand Admiral Thrawn: an inspiration, to be blunt. Forged of a community bent on isolation and independent quest, the idol evolved into an Imperial deity. Bizarre, when measured, that the coincidences had aligned in such a pattern that the repercussions had shattered the galaxy for decades. His past shadowed always by an impenetrable barrier of regret, the quintessential threat proved to be a measly pebble lodged in his pathway. Nonetheless, his odyssey continued unhinged and indefinite towards everything amounting to less than perfection.

A dream…

Of course, Xylon once cherished a dream himself. Perhaps encompassing less foresight than Thrawn’s, but all the more imperative even so. In fact, his life depended upon it, on several accounts. Even more, Thrawn had been interlaced into his own for a time. Put simply, it was the desire to survive: the desire to survive Palpatine’s wrath. Persecuted for a predetermined allegiance gone wrong, the rancorous Palpatine had condemned an entire species to death. Following closely behind, the capricious Thrawn continued, however renounced his search soon after. And without definite failure, Thrawn had chosen a prime instance to retreat from the warrant: Hexyra had been the only remaining component of his kind.



“Sir~Si-ir~Si-ir?”

Naturally, Xylon’s head lay flat on a broad, dingy desk with papers shuffled chaotically underneath his forehead. Chirping in his ears thoroughly, a phalanx line of Ensigns severed the quiet of his light snore. Corellian Coffee mugs scattered across manila files drew the border between his wonderland of imagination and the reality of information correlating. A drab equation, nevertheless something he could call his own.

“…Sir?”, the assembly continued to chime.

Expressing a sleep-induced disdain, “Y-Yes…w-what is the time on your chrono?”

Stepping forth amongst the cluster, one yelped, “Uh…5:90.3 Corellian time, sir. The Asthentian meeting is halfway completed, sir.”

“Typical…ah well, one cannot meet them all anyway. Send my regards.”

Another stepping from the group, “Evidently, sir, there has been a breakthrough…”

Gash and Garen sat around the white table, gently sipping a hard Alderaan brandy. The viscous golden liquid went down smooth, but intoxicated one quickly. In the New Republic, they saved the brandy for special occasions, for obvious reasons- there would never be another year of brandy from Alderaan. This particular blend was from 0 BBY, an especially cherished year, again for quite apparent reasons. Gash used the Force to block out most of it's intoxicating effects, and Garen seemed to be immune to the drunkenness, so the meeting forged on without hault.

The Asthentian Jedi Master and has reptillian aide had been joined by several more Krick, as well as multiple human workers who had assissted the team in the monumental discovery of the Chiss homeworld. Gash struggled to get his mind around the specifics of the discovery of the most famously secluded world in the galaxy.

"So what you're telling me is, that Krick culture as we know it was seeded by a Chiss who visited Asthentia approximately 2,300 years ago?"

'Yesss,' Garen hissed 'Precisely, Jedi Master Jiren. This Krick reminds you that all myth begins with an actual event or a desire to explain what a culture sees-'

"Yes, yes, I know, and I don't find it at all incredible that a surperior being from far off gave the Krick their current obsession with intelect and pursuit of knowledge. But frankly, I don't see how that lead you to find a world my people have been searching for since the death of the Empire."

Gash took another sip of of the brandy, surpessing a grimace as the liquid slid down his throat with an almost stingy presence. He shook his head at the group of scientists, and Garen spoke again.

'The problem has never been so much knowing where Chiss was, Master Jiren. Anyone can send a ship in the direction of the unknown regions; yet, This Krick reminds you of the legendary Chiss hostility. Every probe the Krick have sent into the unknown regions has been destroyed.' Garen said. 'But each of the probes Garen has sent recieved a short signal before their destruction.'

"A signal?"

'Yes. One which we have come to know as a beckon call; a homing beacon, a message to the species known to the Chiss. This Krick would like to play it for you.'

"Go ahead, Garen."

The Krick intelligence operative stood, sliding smoothly over to the front of the meeting room, where a small holoprojector and console resided. The other operatives stepped out of his way, as Garen slid a small datacard into the machine.

Pressing a button, he hissed, 'This was recieved shortly before the destruction of the Jiren IV probe.'

"How nice... flying hunks of metal in deep space are named after me."

Garen pretended not to hear Gash's sarcastic remark, pressing a button on the console with one of his clawed fingers. A strage, scraping sound sprang forth from the computer. 'It is encoded... one of our codebreakers decoded it to reveal the following.' Garrn tapped another button.

'Sbhelcs'tro 'skt bme xlel tzen mrea... Shelc'tro 'skt bmyeg lelte ten mrea...'

"Odd."

'Yes. It was accompanied by a text file transmission, which was essentially an alphabetical restatement of the audio. Several hundred protocol droids took a look at the message, to no avail; it was written in some sort of language unknown to all of us, probably Chiss. None recognized it.'

"Not a surprise."

'No. However, several cryptographers spent a long time on the message, and managed to decipher that it was written in what seemed to be a 19 letter alphabet.'

"Don't the Krick have a 19 letter alphabet?"

'Yes, and therein is the key.'

"Thank god the Krick are a well kept secret... if the Empire knew your language..."

'Yes, this Krick would like to express similar sentiments. We ran the message into a holocomputer, and ran it through systems with each letter of our alphabet corresponding to each symbol in the Chiss alphabet. One solution emerged, but the words were nonsensical. They were real words, but stated in a way that would barely translate to basic.'

"A dead end?"

'No. Each letter in the Krick alphabet corresponds to a numerical value, ranging from -9 to 9. And to an electrical current value. The electrical current is commonly interpretted as sound, in our culture.'

"Science, language, and mathematics. My god, I can see why this took you so long."

'Yes, indeed.'

At that moment, another aide entered the room quietly, seeming almost hesitant.

'Master J-Jiren?' He stuttered.

"Yes?"

'Chief Xylon expresses his regrets at being unable to attend the meeting, he was-'

"Buried in paperwork?"

'Well, yes.'

Gash nodded. It wasn't surprising; while Gash was a commander of a modest empire and a Senatorial representative of his home planet, Asthentia, the two Jedi who held the New Republic Chief of State positions were often weighed down with a stack of papers rivalling the size of one of the new JirenTech Panther Battledroids.

"You may continue, Garen."

'Well, sir...'

“The Krick,” a silent murmur plunged into a radius no farther than a few feet, “the Krick: a species of intellect and high ideals. Commonly considered nobodies due to a perpetual claim of neutrality, these creatures have remained untouched on their planet of Asthentia for millennia without intervention. As a result, many assume that there exists knowledge far beyo-”

Rupturing the murky serenity of twilight, a crack clattered the Caresian Oak holding foundation beneath a reddish ellipse of artificial light. Peculiar from the commonplace mounds of manuscripts and doctrines, a pelted oblong rested just out of the light’s pathway. Auburn across the majority and enclosed in a collection of inordinate crests of every sort, the volume was a visual mass of boundless records and ancient articles. Left flat to the desk in where it lay, Xylon hovered above with a smirk of curiosity folding his lips, fascinated in the enigma.

“No wonder,” the maw parted to express a whisper, “and I figured that Jiren had decided to indulge another of his mad hunches. The pronounced Csilla…I would have never suspected.

Intrigue hooking his eyes, diligent fingertips ran across the shabby shell once more prior to flipping a tempest of pages into the air, halting again on the small Krick excerpt. Silhouettes forming cryptic patterns nearly gilded the pages, and sans the deduction of written explanation, little had they affected the chronicles’ productivity. What's more, the outline supposedly representing a typical Krick managed to only confuse Xylon’s previous premonitions. Given brief structure glances, the creature appeared not overly impressive in palpable physical advantages: rather limpid and emaciated, truthfully.

Nevertheless, a mind could easily wander when supporting such aspirations on a common spine. A diversion even greater in magnitude rose as possibility accompanied these aspirations. With dreams so numerous, opportunities taken for granted were the actions of a fool. Making an ominous martyr of those dreams was abnormally desired, and surely had not been intended by Xylon’s delusions of righteousness.

“I better keep the gentlemen from waiting,” the trailing voice resounded.

With the exploration of Csilla looming on the horizon, the problems of the present were closer to mind than ever. The Battle of Dantooine had been a ravaging fight, one which had alerted Gash to the dangers ahead. A united galaxy was something which could be only beneficial, now... and so, as the first New Republic Task Force ever to venture into the Unknown Regions, a broadcast echoed out onto the RogueNet, the R.J.O. holonet station. It was syndicated across the galaxy.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

The lights of the holocameras glared down onto Gash Jiren, but they did not seem to seriously affect him. The white glare glinted off his glowing, crimson red eyes, the last reminder of his Zabrak heritage. His scars, reminders of his past; one of battle, suffering, darkness. Of the two arms he'd placed on the Kashyyykan wood table, one was solid durasteel; a reminder of what he'd lost.

More machine than man, Gash would make an intimidating Sith Lord. Were his piercing stare at the camera not so filled with sincere passion, concern and good will, he would have been an imposing figure indeed. Yet it was, and he was not; more a meek old man than the strong, proud warrior he was reputed to be.

Yet he was. Though he did not look it.

He smiled, and began.

"Greetings, beings of the galaxy," And the smile faltered, the carefully rehearsed speach degrading. The Jedi Master stared down at the table for a long moment...

"I almost do not know how to begin." He started again, his accent rife with a mixture of severity and mild grief. "The news I bring today is the most terrible I have ever had to bear. But it is something no one is safe from... not any more.

"The people of the galaxy know me as Gash- a name I took as a Sith. This dilutes your trust for me. As does Xylon Hexyra's similar history as a Sith. But I am not a diplomat, and this is not a diplomatic address; I have nothing to hide.

"A battle has begun; a battle I fear will become a war. A battle I know will become a war; it is something I cannot stop. The Force cannot stop it; not even an Eclipse Star Destroyer can stop it. Not the might of the New Republic, nor that of the Empire, can stop it; and I fear that this catastrophic conflict which is to come has been long prophecised. It has begun already, with a battle over the Imperial world Dantooine. There are no winners in war, and this battle was no exception.

"But matters which cannot be avoided are coming to a head. The New Order and the New Republic are at odd's end. We have been fighting under different names and leadership for nearly a hundred years... as many of you know, that battle at Dantooine was provoked by the Imperial assaults on the worlds of our allies, the New Alliance. Our response was intended as a distraction for the New Order forces, to draw them away from the civilian-filled T.N.A. worlds. It worked... but the cost..."

Gash sighed.

"The coming war is one which will span the galaxy. No being can avoid it; the theatres of war will not just be the endless abyss of space, but your planets, your streets, and your homes. The New Order and New Republic are not just singular entities, but mammoth powers made by the alliances they wield. I...

"I will speak no more ill of my enemies. They can be as respected as I; while their allies, the Sith, are the wielders of powers I cannot condone, the Empire earnestly fights for their beliefs. But their beliefs are ones I do not share, and their oppression is not one I will allow to be forced upon me. So I cannot promise you, the beings of the galaxy, anything- that our fight will be easy, that victory will be ensured." Gash had completely strayed from the planned speach, now.

"But I can assure you this. If the Empire gains victory in this battle, the battle it started, then another age of fear and darkness will be set upon the galaxy. My battle is not with any being in this galaxy who does not belong to the Empire itself; I have no desires for conquest. The Empire stands against freedom, galactic friendship. Their claim of a desire for peace and a united galaxy is true, but a peace on their terms; a peace which comes of the people of the galaxy enslaved under their flag. Even ancient human scriptural writings warn of the error of this... peace under one flag is not peace. Absolute power only brings oppression.

"People of the galaxy, I call on you... the New Republic does not ask for you to indulge in violence. We do not even ask your assisstance. Our quarrel is not with you. But do not stand up to be counted with the Empire- for our quarrel is with them.

"Factions of the galaxy, I call on you.... you have a choice to make. A choice different from the beings of our galaxy. In the end, the war will come to you, even if you do not go to it- and you must choose. I cannot ask you to commit forces; but when the Empire comes, do not give in to their intimidation. You are not alone; the New Republic defends all those who stand up for justice and freedom.

"I cannot promise you anything more than that. You who rejoiced with the fall of the Empire must now fight to keep the freedom you earned. I will not threaten those who do not assisst us, and I will not persecute them: I only warn them, warn them that the Empire brings only good will for itself.

"I do not know how this will end. But it has begun. And it is will continue. How it ends, only you can decide."

As the broadcast ended, the verification came- the journey to Csilla was ready to begin. His conscience at rest that he was leaving the known galaxy in good stead for the time of his absence, Gash left the studio.

Log 2XZ14: 5 Days into Csillan Expedition
Our move into the Unknown Regions has not gone unbeknownced by the Chiss. The taskforce that we have brought, under my direct command the the personal supervision of Supreme Military Chancellor Xylon Hexyra is made up of a combination of Rogue Jedi and New Republic vessels, including the Super Star Destroyer Tachyon, upon which I write this log. While sizeable, our force is small enough to have been permitted access by the initial line of Unknown Region defences- with the access codes the Krick garnered us.

While previous attempts have been met with Chiss ships immediately leaping into the system, our's was not. A perimeter of automated defence droids linked with hypercommunications systems lines the entire Unknown Regions- a proverbial Great Wall of ancient human mythology.

So our force blazed past those droids, pulled out of hyperspace by some sort of interdiction technology. The Krick signal was broadcasted, and we continued outside of the interdiction field and continue our trek inwards. However, after some time, it became infinitely clear that someone knows we are here.

The largest danger of the Unknown Regions, once they have been entered, has always been that hyperspace travel is too dangerous- without a map, one could simple jump into a star. But a proverbial trail of breadcrumbs has been left for us by some kind of probe craft sent to shadow our force. While they have never contacted us, a 1.5 kilometer ship has been spotted on radar numerous times, just out of communications and visual range. By sending probes to follow their outbound hyperspace route, we've been able to successfully map eight worlds in the Unknown Regions, a hyperspace route one-sixth of the way into the core of the region.

Those eight systems which we have found were uninhabited. On two of the worlds, abandoned camps were found near equatorial regions of the world. Several small datapad-like devices were recovered by Jedi forces, and are currently under examination by our scientists. When they have been decoded, we will likely find several more routes through the regions.

Our thirteen-ship taskforce is currently residing in a five planet system we have taken the liberty of naming Tyzile, from the Krick word meaning "discovery".

I will continue to update this chronicle of our journey as it continues.

Gash Jiren

Log 2XZ15: 12 Days into Csillan Expedition
We have found Csilla, or what remains thereof.

Our discovery of what seems to have once served as the homeworld of the Chiss came quickly after our scientists cracked the electromagnetic trinary encoding of the cubular datapad devices we found on what has been identified as Orbus Prime. The device is what seems to be known as a "holocube", and is the average medium for the storing of information among Chiss. While I called our Krick cryptographers to my command quarters in time to view the data on the cube, which I assumed would be in a Csillan dialect, that proved unnecessary. We were shocked to find that sixty percent of the text and voice on the holocube here in a slightly-Imperial basic.

The cube seems to be some sort of holomap device- with numerous vague and ominous references to territory occupied by the Yuuzhan Vong. It seems that the Unknown Regions were, in fact, the staging area for the original Yuuzhan Vong invasion- and while that attack has been shattered utterly, areas in which Vong are or are believed to be are always marked as forbidden, or off limits.

With the holomap in hand, we have successfully added 35 confirmed systems to our records, as well as numerous more hyperspace routes. Csilla was marked clearly on the map; just as Coruscant serves as coordinate point 0,0 on all New Republic maps, Csilla serves as 0,0 on this one. Passing descriptions are included for most planets, with the one for Csilla being very passing. It refers to some sort of massive cityscape.

Curiously- or, perhaps, with the information which is coming to light, not so much so- the date on the cube was marked with a similar baseline to those used by the Krick. According to a vague glossary section (one filled with references only a Chiss would understand, I assume), their year system is based on the time it takes the farthest world from the supermassive black hole at the core of the galaxy- a world the cube refers to as "Jekelus"- to make one complete rotation around the center of the galaxy. Therefore, the year system moved in cycles- the current one being 346770 since Jekelus last made a full rotation. The Krick related this year to one of their own, and say that the cube was recorded approximately one hundred and thirty years ago. It seems to be a miracle that it still works.

Thus it was that the New Republic/Rogue Jedi Order taskforce made it's way to the Csilla system. We made a short hyperspace hop into the system with little fanfare, having a preset exit co-ordinate entered into all vessels navicomps for a quick exit, should something have gone horribly awry. Strangely, given the New Republic's history of bungling exploration missions, nothing did.

We entered the system and were greeted by an small envoy- nothing of the sort we'd expected. Three ships of about three thousand meters, two of two thousand. The one thousand five hundred meter ship, which had continued to shadow our progress, headed up the fleet. It struck both me and my men as odd that the smallest vessel should lead the fleet, but no matter.

They hailed us on similar frequencies to those we use, seeming to know who we were, and requested to speak with the Krick on board the ship. I broght Garen to the front, and had him speak over the commlink to a man who identified himself as "Enrich" Tyr'ashaw'mellech. The Krick and the Chiss had what must have been a very awkward conversation, beginning with the not-so-startling revelation that the Chiss had begun the Krick society as we know it today. After confirming our non-hostile intentions, myself, Garen, and several other high ranking officers and guards including Captain Tellien went planetside in a Sentinel shuttle. Xylon retained command of the fleet, wary of a deception.

What I have found on the "ground" of Csilla was not what I had expected. I write this entry now, as our shuttle touches down, and I admit my shock and that of my men.

We have found Csilla; and it is in an ice age.

Log 2XZ16: 15 Days into Csillan Expedition
I write this with some small delight. After short introductions, myself, and my men proceeded with Enrich Tyr'ashaw'mellech to a small shelter built on the endless mounds of ice now spanning the length and width of Csilla. When so requested by the Enrich, my men stayed in a small waiting room, awkward, out of place, and confused. I assured them that I would inform them of our progress later.

The following is what I recorded of our conversation with a hidden device in my prosthetic hand. The Enrich spoke Basic fluently, with the slightest hint of an Imperial accent.

Gash Jiren: Enrich Tyr'ashaw'mellech, it is my great pleasure to have come to your world, at last. All is... not as I had expected.

Tyr'ashaw'mellech: You may dispence with the pleasantries, Admiral. (Rashawm stresses 'Admiral' with the slightest hint of distain.) I know how my world appears, and I know what those records you have found claim about it. You are confused.

GJ: This I will admit, Enrich. From what we have read in the holocube we located on Orbus Prime, Csilla is... was...

T'A'M: ...a world covered in cities and with dense population. Our records do not lie.

GJ: Then what is the world upon which we sit? Snow covered plains do not seem to me as a cityscape.

T'A'M: Neither do they to me. Csilla is, as I am sure you may have assumed, in an ice age. The axial tilt which makes most inhabited worlds inhabitable causes an endless cycle of icing and re-icing on a select few. Csilla is one of them.

GJ: (Expressing a look of concern.) Then your people... they are...?

T'A'M: (Chuckling) No, Admiral. We of the Chiss are not primitive by any means; we knew of the ice long before it came that it would. (Smirking ruefully) The icing process of our planet is so slow that it did not even destroy our cities. They lay even now below the ice.

GJ: And the Chiss are now off world.

T'A'M: Spread through the region, yes. Admiral, may I be frank?

GJ: Of course. I am your guest.

T'A'M: Why have you come? Of the few of the Coruscant galaxy who have made it to the Unknown Regions, most have had conquest in mind.

GJ: Honestly, Enirch, we came to explore. To speak, to know.

T'A'M: Curiosity stirred up, no doubt, by that damned heretic Mitth'raw'nuruodo.

GJ: To some degree. Thrawn was always very protective of his people; we had to do all of the work ourselves, in terms of getting here.

T'A'M: (Grinning slightly) Yes. The homing beacon.

GJ: Homing beacon?

T'A'M: Yes... that which we left with the Krick. During the early years of Csilla's expansion into an urban world rivalling your "Coruscant" in size and scope, the wildlife was running out of room. Many were exported into other planets in the Unknown Regions.

GJ: But the Krick were exported to my homeworld. Why?

T'A'M: You come from Asthentia?

GJ: Yes.

T'A'M: Asthentia, the Krick, were both special. You call yourself Admiral Jiren... what status does the Jiren family hold on Asthentia?

GJ: Royal. I... well, I am the reigning King-Master of Asthentai.

T'A'M: Then the aristocracy has remained unchanged even in twentyfive thousand years. A marvel, truly... Admiral Jiren, you have analyzed your blood at one point or another, I assume.

GJ: Yes, of course. I am a doctor, by profession.

T'A'M: Then you know that your deoxyribonucleic acid contains several phosphate combinations which are not native to any species on record.

GJ: (Looking sceptically at the Enrich) Yes, I have. How did you know that?

T'A'M: Asthentia was founded the the Republic. When it was, several species went there to found it; Zabrak, humans, and more. One leader was selected among them for his intelligence, bravery, and honor.

GJ: A Chiss?

T'A'M: A Chiss. You have some small amount of Chiss in you; down the line in your family, a Chiss named Urre'nelsh'entrol was king of Asthentia. He requested the Krick to come to his planet- the tropical climate of which made it perfect for habitation by the then-primitive lizard creatures- and we obliged him. He knew that the creatures would one day evolve into what you know them as now. Before dying, he imparted to them secret scrolls which now, from Garen's words, form the core of their society.

GJ: (With a stunned look) Amazing... Enrich, you have provided me invaluable insight into my homeworld's history. How might I repay you?

T'A'M: (Looking up towards the roof of the small metal room, seemingly distracted.) Your vessel, the Tachyon, is quite the magnificent craft.

GJ: Thank you, Enrich.

T'A'M: When the Csillan ice age began to truly take shape, the Chiss were unable to come up with a united solution. We have scattered, into rebellious groups, some peaceful, some less so. We cannot mount any effort to save our world; we hesitated for far too long.

GJ: Enrich... what do you wish of the New Republic?

T'A'M: Before our scientists scattered, they drew up a massive orbittal device with the capability to shift orbittal patterns with massive gravitic anomalies, and create a massive field of energy around the planet to intensify the Csillan sun's rays just enough to adjust the temperature delicately. The project was rejected by a biased and corrupt Chiss Senate; that was the last act before it broke apart.

GJ: If we thaw out the planet... will the city below be destroyed?

T'A'M: Only time will tell... please, Admiral. The Chiss can only again unite if Csilla is restored to it's original state! Perhaps... perhaps a re-united Chiss would be more disposed towards entry into the New Republic if they saw your efforts.

GJ: The New Republic would do it for no reason other than to assist the Chiss.

Thus ended our conference, and began the negotiations. After a three ay conference presided over by Xylon Hexyra, and featuring three Chiss factions- Tyr'ashaw'mellech's, Syndic Fang, as well as Syndic Sunspire and Syndic eagleblaze- the project was approved by Leia Organa Solo of the New Republic. The effort has already begun.

With our help, Csilla will be restored.

-Gash Jiren
<hr>


Three weeks passed, and the Vigilant planetary climate control station was constructed in a mammoth effort by the Chiss and the New Republic.

Captain Tellien entered the command room of the orbittal space satellite, the Vigilant, quietly. But the bounce in the Captain's step could barely contain the excitement it was clear that he felt.

'Gash- eh, Admiral Jiren?'

"Yes, Captain Tellien?"

The Jedi Master was surveying the still-white planetscape below. In the corner of his eye, something drew his gaze. Did his crimson eyes that his Chiss history had imbued him decieve, or was that a spot of off-white?

'It has begun, sir. The first 500 square kilometers of cityscape have been uncovered from the ice, and the water remaining swept away by sonic heat blasting.'

Gash's chair spun to face Tellien, the Jedi Master now sharing the young Captain's excitement.

"And? Is it..."

'...intact. The power generators the Chiss have been constructing have been put in place, and the power grid extending into more ice has been severed to avoid damage.'

The spot of off white came fully into focus in the viewport, just as it turned from grey to a dim orange.

"God. We've done it, Tellien- the lights of Csilla have turned on for the first time in hundreds of years."

'Yes, sir.'

And so it was that the New Republic began the thawing of Csilla. Five splintered Chiss factions, including the three who had participated in the first NR-Chiss conference, came together to found the New Csillan Council, and talks had begun with other factions. They promptly put forth a vote to join the New Republic.

It passed unanimously.