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[holonetnews]

"Though I can't exactly remember when this holograph was taken, it's just one of the many times I've met Darth Vader. You never quite feel at ease around him – but I suppose that's the point. His presence is as imposing as it is unforgettable."

[holonetnews]

[holonetnews]

Luke. You do not yet realize your importance. You have only begun to discover your power. Join me, and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy.

[holonetnews]

The torrential rainstorm had transformed the towering skyline of Coruscant into a maze of shimmering lights and cascading water. Neon signs flickered and pulsed through the downpour, their vibrant colors smeared and diffused by the relentless rain. The city, usually a cacophony of speeders and voices, was now dominated by the roar of water striking duracrete, creating a continuous symphony of drumming and splashing.

Caught in the heart of the storm, Holonet Reporter Deena Tharen struggled to maintain her footing. Her white tank top, now clinging to her skin, was soaked through, becoming almost translucent under her open pink jacket. Each droplet that struck her felt like a needle of cold, soaking through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. Her leather trousers, sleek and stylish, now felt like a second skin—cold, slick, and uncomfortable. Every step she took was precarious; her fashionable shoes, chosen more for appearance than practicality, offered little traction on the treacherously smooth, rain-slicked ground.

Deena forced herself onward, each movement a calculated risk on the slippery surface. The rain lashed her relentlessly, each gust of wind sending sheets of water flying against her, plastering her hair to her forehead and cheeks. She squinted against the deluge, her vision blurred by the water streaming down her face. The neon lights above reflected off the puddles at her feet, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope of color that made it even harder to find her way.

Her progress was slow, each step a struggle against the elements. The scent of wet duracrete and ozone filled her nostrils, mingling with the distant, almost imperceptible aroma of street food from vendors huddled under their tarps. The temperature seemed to drop with each passing second, and Deena's shivers were now constant, her body wracked with cold.

Suddenly, her foot slipped on a particularly slick patch of duracrete. Her arms flailed as she tried to regain her balance, but it was no use. With a yelp, she went down, landing hard on her side. Pain shot through her as she lay there, rain pelting her face, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness.

Just as she began to push herself up, she saw a figure approaching through the haze of rain. A patrolling ARC Trooper, his armor gleaming under the neon lights and sheets of water, reached out a gloved hand. Without a word, he helped her to her feet, his grip strong and reassuring.

"Careful," the trooper said, his voice modulated by his helmet but still carrying a tone of concern. "This weather's no joke."

Deena nodded, still catching her breath. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice shaky from the cold and the shock of the fall. The trooper nodded in response, his visor reflecting the stormy cityscape around them.

[holonetnews]

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" It loomed against the backdrop of the cosmos like a cold, unblinking eye, its sheer enormity a testament to human ambition. The surface was a labyrinthine expanse of durasteel and shadow, dotted with countless turbolaser batteries and hangar bays, each a minuscule detail contributing to the overwhelming whole. Beams of light from the surrounding stars were swallowed by the station's mass, creating a halo effect with a beauty that belied the construction's deadly purpose. Deena's breath caught despite herself.

Subdirector Eudora Vane's voice was smooth and warm. She immediately offered her hand, her manner direct but not unsympathetic. "Subdirector Eudora Vane." Slightly shorter than Deena, Vane possessed a friendly face and an air of gentle professionalism. Her rich, captivating voice carried the cadence of a tram, steady and reassuring. She looked like the kind of woman who could have been a schoolteacher, yet here she was, one of the greatest military architects in the galaxy.

Deena accepted the handshake, momentarily taken aback by Vane’s approachable demeanour. "Deena Tharen. Yes, it certainly is."

Vane nodded, her gaze briefly shifting to the colossal sphere outside before returning to Deena. "I trust you've been briefed on our current situation?"

[holonetnews]

Recollections of a Holonet Reporter: A Year After Yavin | CLOSED AU for @worldwearyjedi |

Like so many Coruscanti natives, I never envisioned a life away from the bustling center of the galaxy. Coruscant, with its endless skyscrapers and ceaseless hum of activity, had been my stage, my life.

Even after the Republic was replaced by the Empire, I remained relatively unconcerned. The propaganda was insidious; it painted the Empire as a beacon of stability, a promise of order after the chaos of the Clone Wars. Despite knowing that the Empire's message was manufactured, I still, on some level, bought into the dream of peace. I was acutely aware of my role in disseminating that propaganda, yet I couldn’t help but be seduced by the illusion of a harmonious galaxy.

The imperial machine is ruthlessly efficient. The Empire dangled my dreams before me, giving me opportunities I had only fantasized about during the Clone Wars. They funnelled money into my career, and despite the gnawing emptiness and profound loneliness, I was rolling in credits and success—powerful tranquilizers that dulled my conscience. The Holonet became my stage, and I a puppet, my life a series of carefully orchestrated broadcasts that served the Emperor's narrative.

It was about this time, when I was at my worst, that I was reunited with Rush Darkburst.

During the Clone Wars, we had crossed paths several times. I, the intrepid Holonet reporter, and she, the valiant Jedi Knight, had formed a bond of mutual respect and admiration. She was charismatic, daring, bold, and outspoken, much like Anakin Skywalker. Rush captivated those around her with her fearless demeanour, limitless humor and unwavering conviction. It's safe to say that the Jedi I met was nothing like the solemn, stoic warrior the Holonet often portrayed.

There was a spark between us even then, a connection that went beyond words. But the war demanded our all, and personal desires were set aside for the greater good.

In the chaos that followed the Republic's fall and the rise of the Empire, we lost touch. I thought of her often, wondering if she had survived the purges that decimated the Jedi Order. The galaxy became a darker place, and I resigned myself to the life I had on Coruscant, using my platform to report the truth in the face of overwhelming propaganda.

When our paths crossed again... Our relationship was intense, fraught with unspoken tensions and political disagreements that seemed impossible to reconcile. We yearned for each other, but our differing stances created a chasm between us. I loved my work, my job, my stardom—being the face of the Holonet was intoxicating. Rush, on the other hand, loved me deeply, but she was vehemently opposed to the Empire. She saw through the lies, felt the weight of the Empire's tyranny more acutely than I ever could from my privileged position.

Our time together on Coruscant was passionate but strained. Our physical connection was undeniable, a desperate attempt to bridge the gap between us. Yet, the moments of closeness were often overshadowed by the tensions of my loyalty to the Empire. Rush's disdain for the regime I represented was palpable, and I could see the pain it caused her. She couldn't understand how I could continue to support an institution responsible for so much suffering. I, in turn, felt torn between my career and the woman I loved.

Our arguments were intense, our reconciliations tender but temporary. The underlying issues remained unresolved, a constant source of friction.

But then came the events of Yavin. The Death Star's destruction shattered more than just a space station; it was a symbolic strike against the Empire's facade of invincibility. For the first time, I saw the Empire's vulnerability, and the full extent of its malevolence. It was a turning point for many, including myself. I realized how blind I was to the suffering my broadcasts had glossed over, and how complicit I had become in the very oppression I once swore to expose.

The aftermath of Yavin saw Emperor Palpatine tightening his iron grip on the galaxy even further. He implemented immediate, far-reaching measures to crush any hint of rebellion. Curfews were imposed on major worlds, security checkpoints multiplied, and the Imperial Security Bureau was granted unprecedented powers. The Holonet became a tool of fear, a weapon of control.

Meeting Rush again felt like destiny—perhaps the Force itself intervening. We knew that to stay on Coruscant was to court certain doom. The risks were too great, the stakes too high. Coruscant was no longer safe for a former Jedi or a dissident reporter. So, we fled, seeking refuge far from the heart of the Empire’s darkness.

With some help from Mon Mothma, we fled to Chandrila, her homeworld. A serene world that, to me at least, seemed to be the galaxy’s best-kept secret. Chandrila's beauty rivals that of Naboo and the lost Alderaan. It is a world where rolling meadows meet tranquil seas, and charming white cities, with their elegant architecture, nestle amidst lush forests. The sky here holds a spectrum of hues that seem to dance in harmony, offering a picturesque landscape that makes the horrors of war feel like distant nightmares.

Despite being technically under Imperial rule, the Chandrilan House—Chandrila’s independent government—still calls the shots. The Imperial governors are acutely aware of Chandrila’s close links to the Rebel Alliance, so they tread incredibly carefully, knowing the fierce loyalty of the Chandrilan people to their own government. It is a delicate balance, but one that works in our favor.

Hanna City became our new home. It’s not as rural as other parts of the planet, but walking through tree-lined avenues, and marbled plazas, it's a place where you can almost believe that the galaxy beyond does not exist. Even so - we live with constant caution, aware that discovery could mean the end of our haven. The Empire’s reach is long, and their vengeance, swift. Yet, here on Chandrila, we’ve found a semblance of peace, a precious respite from the looming galactic conflict.

I shed my old identity. Deena Tharen, the renowned Holonet reporter, became Deena Rell, an ordinary woman living a quiet life. The change was surreal, yet liberating. For the first time, I was not defined by my career or my notoriety but by the love I shared with Rush and the new life we were building together. Our days blend into weeks, spent in each other’s arms in domestic bliss, a life of luxury afforded by the wealth I brought with me.

It's been a standard year since the Death Star was obliterated.

One of the most unexpected changes has been my appearance. My hair has grown long, cascading down my back in waves. Gone are the days when I had to maintain a chic, Holostar-level look for the Holocam. Now, I dress for comfort, not for an audience. I am free from the constant pressure to be perfect, to be flawless. It’s liberating to let go of that facade and just be myself.

Afternoons are often spent on our couch, Rush straddling my lap as we embrace, our laughter filling the room. The happiness in her eyes, a clear contrast to the haunted look she once carried, is a daily reminder of the peace we have found. We sit together, enjoying the simple moments of life, talking about our dreams and the future we dared to hope for. We often lose track of time, engrossed in conversations that range from the whimsical to the wonderful. She shares stories of her daring missions during the Clone Wars, her eyes lighting up with the same fire that once inspired entire battalions.

We plan our future, discussing the places we want to visit, the adventures we still crave. Sometimes, we simply sit in silence, the warmth of her presence enough to fill the room with contentment. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the way her fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on my arm, all these small details are as precious as anything I had back on Coruscant.

I am no longer a spectator to history but a participant in a quiet rebellion, living a love that defies an Empire. I know that, in the future, I will find something to occupy myself with, a new purpose to give my days structure and meaning. But after years of struggle, of loss, of pain, this respite is all I care about.

[holonetnews]

[holonetnews]

[holonetnews]

[holonetnews]

Send me ⚠ for my muse to save your muse from a fall.

Send 👏 for the reverse!

[holonetnews]

[holonetnews]

"Through my work at Holonet News, I've had the unique opportunity to witness the Empire's efforts to bring order and stability to a galaxy that has seen far too much war. It's inspiring to see the dedication to peace and progress right at the forefront. Each day, I'm reminded of the Empire's commitment to a brighter future for all, a vision that I'm proud to share with the galaxy through my work.

Yet, for those who know me best, they understand that the shine of such a grand vision does not obscure the shadows it casts—shadows where stories, too often untold, patiently wait for their moment in the light."

[holonetnews]

Star Wars: Holonet Teaser Trailer Teaser

aka I got bored of editing it and just wanted to share. lol. I might put some effort into something someday... But it is not this day!

[holonetnews]

@worldwearyjedi

Deena Tharen's heart pounded as she darted through the warehouse. She'd been right about the Confederacy's involvement in the logistics operation here; her suspicions now proven beyond all doubt by the rapid clunk-clunk of the battle droids hot on her trail. She could almost feel the satisfaction mingling with the adrenaline rushing through her veins, proof that her reporter's instincts had been spot-on. Yet, there was no time to celebrate. Survival was the immediate prize.

Rush was a few paces ahead, her silhouette a blur of motion as her lightsaber hummed to life, casting blue shadows against the grimy walls.

She hadn't known the young jedi for long. Their paths had crossed only a few standard months ago, she'd been covering the gritty realities of the Outer Rim Sieges for Holonet News, when a sudden blockade by a Separatist battlefleet marooned both her and Rush far from the festive comforts of Coruscant’s winter celebrations.

"Admit it! I was right about the smuggling!" Deena called after her companion, her lungs on fire. Her remark was underscored by the zipping noise of a blaster bolt that ricocheted past her ear, bounced off a storage rack, and disappeared into oblivion.

With the last ounce of her energy, Deena dropped into a slide, the corellian leather of her pants squeaking in protest against the durasteel deck. She careened shoulder first into the base of the wall beside the sealed door ahead of them, her delicate fingers quickly getting to work prising open the access panel that lay there with an alien fierceness.

If they made it out of here alive, she owed Rush a drink. Several drinks. Hells, a lifetime supply of drinks.

Deena, reaching inside the cavity, yanked hard on a thick bundle of wires, but the wires resisted, as tangled as the lies that had led them to this moment. Her mind raced as she tried to summon every shred of technical knowledge she'd ever gleaned—not from any formal training, but from the countless hours spent repairing her old speeder. The memory of her fingers coated in repulsor coolant felt oddly comforting as she deciphered the wires before her, a puzzle upon which their very survival now depended.

Showers of sparks and stray components rained down on her as their mechanical pursuers met Rush's blade. Deena couldn't help but feel a wave of reassurance knowing Rush was guarding her back. As she traced the wires with her fingertips, a particular sequence sparked a connection. “Red to blue, not green to black,” she muttered under her breath, a mantra she had repeated countless times beneath the hull of her speeder. She tugged sharply at a stubborn wire, her focus narrowing. The circuit sparked, protesting her intrusion, but she was undeterred. She had to get this door open, or their story—her story—would never reach the Holonet.

As she stood, the access panel buzzed angrily, protesting her rough handling, but Deena was beyond care. She slammed her palm against the stubborn release button, her other hand bracing against the cold metal of the panel. With a reluctant groan, the door’s locking mechanism disengaged, sliding open with a hiss that was nearly drowned out by the ongoing battle.

"Kriff, yeah!" Deena exclaimed, only to have the staccato-vocoder of a battle-droid take issue with her moment of victory.

"Hey! You're not authorized to leave this area! St-" The droids protest was cut short by a sizzling thrum. She glanced back at Rush, who was still steadily cutting through their metallic adversaries, her figure bathed in the light of her own making.

"Rush, let's blow this joint! Come on!" Deena shouted, her voice echoing over the clatter of deactivated droids. She didn’t need to look back to know the jedi would be right behind her, which was just as well - because her eyes were now rigidly fixated on the two destroyer droids that stood between them and the landing platform.

"Uh, Rush?"

[holonetnews]

Junior Holojournalist, Deena Tharen, circa 24 BBY, one standard year before her HoloNet debut.

[holonetnews]

Deena Tharen, casual attire, approximately 1 ABY.

[holonetnews]

holonot ooc

Did anyone else see that 100% absolutely definitely fan made trailer for S2 of Andor? You know? The one they definitely shot in a fan auditorium just because of their dedication to making fan trailers? If you are interested in fanmade trailers, I have left the link below to this amazing fanmade work because I love this fandom. This is definitely fan made so there's no reason to share it with your friends whatsoever. Definitely not.