Star Wars: Retaliation (IC)

[Okayanos]

The Battle of Tiamat: Part 2

Three Months After Order 66

Dramatis Personae

Admiral Jeamarl Karnu, Imperial
Admiral San Rend, Former Separatist
Captain Decimus, Imperial
Cornelius Mors, Imperial Intelligence Agent
CT-6264 'Brutus', Purge Trooper
Captain Aliella Harmenix, Imperial
Jin-Roh Dokaan, Jedi Master

---

Tiamat
In orbit

“You’ve been plinking away at my formation from extreme range for some time now, Commander. You should have tried to move into gun range some time ago. Something distracting you?” San asked over the still-open comm channel. He was getting looks from some of his organic crewmen now, but he couldn’t help himself. It had been years since he’d wargamed against a living opponent.

“Sir, crystal reserves are 30% loaded.” Came a report from below. That wasn’t quite fast enough for San to feel completely certain in his escape. He began to fiddle with the controls of the holotable, adjusting his formation. The twin Recusant-class Destroyers turned out from the line of battle, angling their bow-mounted heavy turbolaser cannons toward the Imperial’s ships, and allowing them to better provide a defensive screen against fighters if it came to that. The two skeletal-looking capital ships aligned themselves toward the Deliverance, running through dozens of calculations in their droid brains to line up a shot- and they fired, one after the other, sending a pair of massive crimson plasma beams streaking toward Karnu’s venator.

When Karnu saw that San's ships began to change its formation and started aiming its turbolasers at the Deliverance. The Admiral knew what was about to happen.

"Maximize shields!" Karnu ordered.

The Deck Officers soon started to raise the Deliverance's shield. However, the shields don't do much to protect the ship as the plasma beams heavily damaged the ship. Once the beam hit, the alarms across the ship began to ring out.

"Status report!" Karnu ordered.

"Sir the hull along with other decks have been greatly damaged. There are reports of fire in some areas of the ship. Several crew members are dead." A Deck Officer said.

"Have fire crews in those areas to put them out... In the meantime I want the entire fleet to move closer to San's fleet. We can't risk another blow like that again." Karnu ordered.

As Aliella watched this all happen, the young Captain began to doubt Karnu as his ability to be an Admiral. How can he guide her to become one, when he's a bad example of a good Admiral?

It wasn't long before the Imperial fleet moved in close to San's fleet as they kept on engaging trying to break his formation in order to send in more ground troops.

“Ah, there we find the Wolf of Raxus Prime…” San Rend grinned as Karnu’s ships finally pulled into engagement range. While the two fleets had wasted time making potshots, San had brought up Republic records, searching for a Venator called Deliverance. He believed he’d identified his enemy.

“I wondered when you would move to engage, Admiral Karnu.” San said, once again hailing the Imperial fleet. “You’ve yet to launch further ground forces- are the men harassing my troops lucky, or disobeying orders?” As he spoke, the two Recusant-class Destroyers in his fleet moved fully into a defensive position, firing their point-defense lasers at any ARC-170s that pulled too close. Hyena bombers were launching en masse, making their way through the battlefield escorted by Vulture droids to rake the Imperial capital ships with their heavy ordnance.

Once the Deliverance was in close range and when San started talking through the comms. The Admiral ignored everything San was saying as he tried to focus on the battle in front of him. San had almost crippled his ship and Karnu knew he had to be careful in his next move, so that he can find a way to land more ground forces that Brutus requested. The Admiral knew that he couldn't just sit here all day in orbit, they had to make some kind of progress.

"Captain Decimus." Karnu said as he opened a comm channel to talk to the captain.

"Focus fire on San's ship, we need to punch through their defenses in order to aid our ground forces."

After contacting Decimus, Karnu ordered his gunners to aim their weapons at San's ship and told them to open fire.

"You heard the admiral! Fire everything! We need to destroy or disable San Rend's flagship if we are going to punch a hole through the enemy lines!" Captain Decimus said to the bridge crew, the communications officers immediately relaying the order. Within seconds, the Mutina fired its Concussion Missiles, Lasers, and Turbolasers at San Rend's flagship.

Shots pinged off of the Tumultuous' shields as the Venator and Arquitens began to close. San recognized what was happening- Admiral Karnu and Captain Decimus were suffering from tunnel vision. They only saw the looming Providence-class in front of them, not the escorts surrounding it. Tumultuous began to pull backward as Deliverance and Mutina continued to advance on it, unaware of the Recusant and Munificent-class ships closing around them. Falling right into his trap- until, suddenly, one of his Recusant-class ships, the Skybound Vow burst into a fiery glow. San snapped his head towards it, and realized- the Empire's fighters. He'd let them pull forward, and the sheer mass of fighters they could put out had overwhelmed Skybound Vow's close defenses. Solemn Glory, the second Recusant, was damaged but still holding. San directed the ship to break away from the fighting, where the Munificents and his own Providence could take on the brunt of the assault. When he saw landing craft begin to pour from the Deliverance, San understood the purpose of Karnu's seemingly mindless charge. The Admiral had broken his defensive fleet, and shortened the window of time for his evacuation. "Well played, Admiral. Well played."

Now that there was an opening, Admiral Karnu began ordering gunships to leave the hanger and fly towards Tiamat. Seeing this all happened, Aliella was impressed with the Admiral's tactics. She thought he was being reckless, but instead he was actually playing this smart. Karnu soon ordered some of his starfighters to protect the gunships until they landed on the planet.

"Captain Brutus, this is Admiral Karnu speaking." Karnu said over the comms.

"We managed to break through the enemy fleet and we're sending in more reinforcements. Give them your coordinates and they'll show up."

The Mutina continued to fire on the Providence-class, missiles streaking towards their target. During the early days of the Clone Wars, San Rend had earned a name for himself by capturing the entire hemisphere of Ajax. Now, he was little more than an outlaw continuing to fight the war he had lost months ago, loose end for both the Empire and the Corporate Alliance, a thorn in the side of the Empire's attempt to bring order and stability to the Outer Rim. One that Captain Decimus was adamant about removing, either by destroying San Rend's flagship or having the old fool dragged to the Mutina in chains.

”Nova crystals 70% loaded, sir!” came the report. Not fast enough, San realized. At this rate, Karnu’s forces would overwhelm him. He knew that a passive defense would only let the Imperial forces run rampant as they wished- San had to strike back at them if he wanted to buy his ground troops the time they needed.

The chance to do so came as Commander Decimus’ Arquitens-class cruiser zeroed in on San’s Tumultuous.. The smaller ship was hopelessly outclassed in firepower and durability alike. With suicidal bravery like that, there was only one commander that could be at that vessel’s helm.
“Alicorn, Dunedain, cut that Arquitens off. Someone needs a lesson.” The two Munificent-class frigates beamed out an acknowledgment and fired up their sublights. The frigates imposed themselves between the Deliverance and the Mutina, cutting the light cruiser off from its heavy support. Alicorn turned its heavy turbolasers upon the Mutina, firing a thick beam of crimson plasma across the cruiser’s bow. But the Munificents were only a distraction. Like a Sando Aqua Monster looming over a Colo Clawfish, the Tumultuous rose above the outgunned Mutina. It’s angular form made a striking silhouette against Tiamat’s golden sun as San granted Decimus one final wish- to trade broadsides in the traditional way, one ship against another. As Tumultuous sounded off a 60-gun salute with all her main battery, it became eminently clear how one-sided the duel was. A volley of proton torpedoes was the final crescendo in the symphony of artillery fire, putting the wounded Mutina down for good.

”75% loaded now.” The next report came. San figured that meant his strategy had worked, at least momentarily.

"It appears that I've allowed my desire to reclaim lost glory cloud my judgement. Everybody to the escape pods! We're scuttling the Mutina immediately!" Captain Decimus said to the bridge crew, the communications officers relying the order before heading to the escape pods, Captain Decimus following close behind.

Once the gunships had broken through San's fleet and began landing on the planet, Karnu felt relieved and now it was time to keep fighting. The Admiral watched as Decimus started to engage San's ship, only for the Mutina to be destroyed by the Tumultuous

"Decimus, you fool..." Karnu said under his breath as turned to look at one of the officers.

"Any survivors?"

"Yes sir, we've detected serval escape pods leaving the Mutina each one is heading towards the planet." The Officer said.

"We'll just have to pick them up later then... For now, I want all of our heavy turbolasers to fire upon those two Munificent frigates. I also want any nearby fighter squadron to assist us." Karnu ordered.

"Yes sir!" The Officer said.

The Deliverance's heavy turbolasers aimed at the two Munificent frigates and began firing upon with fighter sqaudrons coming in to assist in crippling two of the frigates. (edited)
Once the gunships had broken through San's fleet and began landing on the planet, Karnu felt relieved and now it was time to keep fighting. The Admiral watched as Decimus started to engage San's ship, only for the Mutina to be destroyed by the Tumultuous

"Decimus, you fool..." Karnu said under his breath as turned to look at one of the officers.

"Any survivors?"

"Yes sir, we've detected serval escape pods leaving the Mutina each one is heading towards the planet." The Officer said.

"We'll just have to pick them up later then... For now, I want all of our heavy turbolasers to fire upon those two Munificent frigates. I also want any nearby fighter squadron to assist us." Karnu ordered.

"Yes sir!" The Officer said.

The Deliverance's heavy turbolasers aimed at the two Munificent frigates and began firing upon with fighter sqaudrons coming in to assist in crippling two of the frigates.

Surface of Tiamat

The smoke filled cliff top became a symphony of war as continuous gunfire, explosions, and screams echoed all around. Bolts of red and blue flew back and forth finding their targets. The black clad purge troopers had made a small footing at the edge of the cliff. They found cover wherever they could. Behind rocks, behind bodies, and in small holes made by thrown grenades. Among these faceless troopers were Purge Captain Brutus and Imperial Agent Cornelius. Brutus fought with his signature ferocity, finger rarely let off the trigger of his DC-15A. Cornelius used everything he had learned, flying around the battlefield hitting shots other agents would only dream of.

Despite the heroics of the two Captains the Separatists were dug in deep and refused to budge. Purge troopers were falling all around them. The Imperials still pushed on. Inch by inch they forced their way up. Step by step the 411th gained ground, slowly trudging through smoke and bodies.

Brutus’ heavy breathing was raspy and metallic as he continued into the smoke filled light show of blaster fire. A new bright light suddenly cut through the smoke. Whizzing back and forth, cutting through stormtrooper and purge troopers alike. Brutus recognized the sound and movements the beam made. A lightsaber. “Jedi!” Brutus yelled as he started to unload in the area of the lightsaber. The other Purge Troopers followed their Captain and joined in creating a sea of blaster fire. After a few seconds Brutus yelled to stop. The whole battlefield seemed to quiet as the Captain took tentative steps towards the area the jedi was last seen.

There was a sudden deep snap-hiss, and Brutus grunted as a violet blade of plasma swiped diagonally down along his torso. Brutus’ armor took the brunt of the strike but the blow was strong enough to send him staggering. Before any purge troopers could follow up the Jedi threw forth a force push that blew the smoke off the cliff, and took some troopers with it. Brutus flew back and skidded into a pit. The force of his landing caused his vision to go dark.

The Jedi gave no thought to the fallen purge trooper. He was an old man who did not have the time to waste on thoughts of the fallen. All Jin-Roh could afford to think of was the battle. He plunged into the battle without pause, falling deeper into the currents of the Force. Jin-Roh and his lightsaber moved as one. He intercepted a flurry of sapphire-blue blaster bolts, catching them against his saber’s blade and reflecting them back towards the clone soldiers.

A humanoid form clad in rags and a face-concealing helmet darted past Jin-Roh, diving into the hail of blaster fire without fear. The being’s mind touched Jin-Roh’s, and he felt the blind loyalty, the acute anger- but most of all, he felt the intense discipline keeping it all in check. Damn fanatics finally showed, he thought. More humanoids dressed similarly to the first entered the fray. Their minds held the same emotion, and through the link of battle meditation, it was shared among them. The warriors were Echani, it was their way to know each other well enough to fight in concert effortlessly. With the Force linking them together on top of that, they could truly move and act as one.

The Echani wielded no blasters, only vibroblades that whirred and hummed with every movement. Jin-Roh drew on the Force, pushing its power out into the ground beneath him. The pulse of Tiamat’s life beat like a heart, and he called upon it. The Force conjured a curtain of fog over the battlefield, thick enough for droplets of moisture to collect in Jin-Roh’s beard. Without clear vision, the Force would be his guide, and he spread it through the battle meditation, sharing its guidance with the Echani. They came down on the clones like a tidal wave, piercing blades through plasteel armor. Some fell to blaster fire, but it seemed that for every Echani who went down, another would take their place.

A purge trooper roared, drawing a long staff that crackled with violet energy at each end. The Echani’s excitement was tangible even without the force. One of them flourished his vibroblade and ran for the trooper, claiming the duel for himself. Sparks flew from the trooper’s staff as it clashed against the Echani’s blade, but the cold, pragmatic nature of the Empire’s combat training triumphed against the ancient traditions of the Echani way. As the purge trooper stood victorious over his opponent, a group of Echani abandoned all pretense of honor and jumped him, swarming like flesh-ants over a wound. The purge trooper, cut off from reinforcements, fell to the ground as he was pierced again and again by vibroblades.

Jin-Roh carved through the Imperial forces in a blur of amethyst light. Where the Echani ducked and tumbled through the fray, searching for openings in the soldiers’ armor where they could slip a blade in, Jin-Roh only needed a brief moment to cut through them. Even as he came closer to winning the battle against the first of the Imperial forces, he could sense through the battle meditation that San’s forces were on the back foot, merely trying to cover their retreat rather than pull back.

The Echani either didn’t understand that, or didn’t care. Their ferocity and loyalty was without equal in the galaxy, but it meant that they could be… aggressive. Even as their brothers and sisters fell, the warriors pressed forward, as if they could drive the Empire off of Tiamat on their own. They needed a cooler head to give guidance. Jin-Roh inhaled deeply, and yelled out.

“MOVE AWAY!” he called in the Eshan tongue, the only guaranteed way to get the Echani’s attention. His voice rippled through the Force, echoing louder and deeper than humanly possible. The power of his call blew the conjured fog away, laying bare the carnage of the battle for all to see. Echani and troopers both lay dead in droves, watering Tiamat’s grass with their blood. The Echani eyed him, until one of the masked warriors repeated the order. “Move away!” she commanded, and the affirmation convinced the Echani to obey. They fled with the same swiftness they had arrived with, and Jin-Roh held the rear, deflecting blaster bolts fired his way. The Echani would pull back to another position and once more let the Empire come to them, where they could defend themselves and then retreat again, whittling down the enemy’s forces.

One of the Echani yelled frantically, pointing toward the sky. Jin-Roh looked, and immediately understood the alarm. An Imperial gunship, humming ominously, swooped down low. It carried enough weapons to wipe the Echani out, and if the weapons weren’t enough, the fresh batch of enemy soldiers inside would be. Jin-Roh knew then that his destiny wasn’t to retreat- not this time. He extended his hand toward the gunship, and willed the Force out. Jin-Roh felt the ship’s hardened durasteel exterior, the wind buffeting against it, the minds of the men within. Its laser cannons moved about, the energy cells within heating up as they prepared to fire. Jin-Roh drew on the strength that still lived within him, cultivated by years of Matukai training and tempered by the wisdom of the Jedi. He had written poems of this intangible thing, this strength of spirit that could make even an old body like his as strong as a young man’s.

The gunship’s cannons, fully warmed up, fired forth their first volley. The specialized tibanna gas turned the bolts of plasma a vibrant emerald green, dying Tiamat’s landscape in the same shade as they streaked forth in a fraction of a second. Jin-Roh pushed his inner strength out, into the currents of the Force, into the superheated air around the blast. With a strong enough will, a man could do the impossible. He fought against the plasma bolt, and took hold of it. Jin-Roh didn’t realize his eyes had been closed until he opened them- and saw the gunship’s volley, frozen in the air.

The Force had caught the unstable mass of plasma, and now it pushed it back. Reversing the momentum of the glowing energy, finally launching it back toward the gunship as a viridian streak. The pilot, still shocked by the spectacle before him, had no time to maneuver the ship. Flames erupted from its side, and the gunship fell to earth, downed by her own fire. Jin-Roh knew he’d only bought time- dark-armored soldiers were already emerging from the wreckage, all of them purge troopers. The Echani who had first spotted the gunship still lingered beside Jin-Roh. The old Jedi put a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “Be with your people. Leave this place,” He said. “You still have a purpose in the Galaxy. I’ll hold them off.”

The Echani was hesitant- battle was his lifeblood, his people’s reason for being. But Jin-Roh’s words were respected among his people. The warrior thumped a fist against his breastplate- a gesture of respect and recognition- before turning and fleeing with the rest of his kind. They would make it to the last few escape craft, Jin-Roh figured. San Rend would bring them to safety. Jin-Roh now watched as the purge troopers advanced on him in formation, as if they hadn’t plummeted from the sky in a ball of fire. Evidently, the Empire had sent its best to kill him. Jin-Roh brought his humming lightsaber into a Makashi salute, vertically with the hilt over his heart, then raising it horizontally above his head.

“As rivers flow into the sea, so must I come to my end. As leaves fall, so must I. My bones will be the earth, my blood will be the water, my soul will be the air. I give my death, that I may give Life.”

---

Brutus pushed himself up off the ground. He slowly stood up as the world stopped spinning. He still heard the sounds of combat in front of him. Brutus moved his aching body to the edge of the hole he was in and looked out to see the Jedi battling Purge troopers. Looking around at the wreckage of the gunship Brutus guessed that Karnu had pushed through the fleet and was finely sending more troops his way. At the end of the fight.

To the Captains left was a single imperial medic doing everything he could for those that were part of the initial push, and those who couldn’t fight after the gunship wreck. “By the stars, you're alive?” the medic said to Brutus in an astonished tone. The medic took no time to get to work on the trooper's injuries; his head was still bleeding from the impact, his shoulder cut deep, and what felt like a broken rib. Brutus grabbed a few stims from the medic and quickly injected himself with all of them. “What are you doing? You need to sit and rest.” The medic was confused by the old Captain’s tactics. “I have a job to do, I can rest when the Jedi is dead.” Brutus said as he walked away towards Jin-Roh.

The Jedi had fared well against the new squad of troops. He cut down the last trooper and wiped the sweat off of his brow, before turning to face the new bloodied enemy approaching him. The only weapons Brutus had left were his electro hammer and his vibroknife. His rifle had flown out of his hands when he was thrown into the air. Brutus unsheathed his hammer. The mighty weapon surged to life when he switched it on, purple lightning crackled and snapped across the shaft.

The two circled each other, sizing the other up, figuring out what they could about the other from looks alone. From what Brutus could learn the Jedi was like others he faced, calm, focused, and balanced. But this Jedi seemed more at peace than Brovil and his master. Jin-Roh could see that the trooper was battered and broken. But he sensed that his mind was still on the fight. The trooper seemed to relish in the fact that he was nearly dead- it gave him power. The two exhausted men each took up an opening stance. Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other. Brutus’ eyes narrowed before sprinting at the jedi, yelling out a blood curdling cry.

Brutus heaved his massive weapon down in a large arc. The attack was an easy one for Jin-Roh to dodge and counter with his own swift strike, swinging his saber laterally at the Troopers shoulder. Brutus kept his hammer on the ground and instead pushed himself forwards, towards the saber. His thick shoulder armor took the brunt of the blade’s searing heat. Brutus powered on through the pain, ramming into the Jedi.

Jin-Roh stepped back. From that small exchange he knew the trooper's strength was in his brute force, overpowering his opponents. He changed from his usual Makashi stance to something more defensive. As he predicted, Brutus charged again, this time sweeping the great hammer across the side. Jin-Roh leapt up over the crackling weapon and reached out with the force, ripping chunks of earth and stone from the ground behind Brutus and threw them at the trooper’s exposed back.

Brutus grunted as he was pelted from behind, hard enough to leave dents on his armor. As Brutus recoiled, Jin-Roh quickly maneuvered himself to attack from the trooper's blindspot. Jin-Roh swung his lightsaber down and cut through Brutus’ right shoulder plate, scarring the flesh beneath. Brutus roared angrily and whipped his hammer around. Jin-Roh countered the wild attack with only a slight backward step, and retaliated with a quick, light strike to the Purge Troopers calves.

Brutus was unshaken by the new pain in his legs. He swung his hammer up and brought it back down toward Jin-Roh. The Jedi was quick to counter the blow, but it was a ruse- Brutus had already drawn his vibroknife and lunged forward. Jin-Roh gasped as the blade cut into his midsection. Jin-Roh was unlike the other Jedi Brutus had fought. He was a true master in the order. Seamlessly utilizing the force in combat was something most of the others failed to do. A master of the saber and a master of the force. Jin-Roh would be the greatest combatant Brutus had faced to date.

Jin-Roh was struggling more with this trooper than the previous ones he cut down. But the fight Brutus was putting up wasn’t enough to stop the old master. Jin-Roh quickly moved in towards Brutus. The Jedi brought his lightsaber towards the Captain’s midsection, aiming to cleave the Purge Trooper in two. Brutus managed to turn, angling his armor enough that the lightsaber barely cut through before sliding off.

Brutus quickly whipped around to keep Jin-Roh in his sight, but the Jedi was already moving back in, keeping up his aggressive momentum. Jin-Roh came from the right but his attack started from the left. Brutus realized the trick- before he had turned, Jin-Roh had thrown his lightsaber, and now used the force to pull it to him, through the trooper. Brutus yelled as the lightsaber impaled the right side of his stomach. Jin-Roh pushed Brutus far back with the force, wrenching out his saber as the trooper flew through the air.

Brutus could feel the effects of the stims fading and his body grew heavy. Every muscle in his body ached but Brutus didn’t give up. He couldn’t give up. His head throbbed as he focused back on the Jedi. His mission was in front of him, moving closer. And Brutus knew good soldiers followed orders and finished the mission. With no weapons left, Brutus stood up and threw a wild and weak punch. Jin-Roh easily dodged and countered with a swift lightsaber strike across the trooper's back. Brutus fell to his knees.

Brutus was tired. So very tired. For a second he felt clarity, as if fog had cleared and his mind was at ease. Maybe he needed to stop and rest. Let his brothers finish the fight. The fog slowly came back to his mind as he heard the hum of a lightsaber next to his ear. Brutus’ eyes narrowed as he felt the all too familiar rage within. He knew what he had to do. Just as ZZ knew what to do. He had one grenade left for this moment.

Jin-Roh held his saber at the trooper's head. He knew he had won the fight. It was time to end it. He brought his lightsaber back and prepared to strike. Before Brutus could set off the thermal detonator and before Jin-Roh could bring down his saber a shot rang out in the now silent battlefield. The large bolt flew through the air and slammed into Jin-Roh’s shoulder. Brutus looked out and saw Cornelius standing with his rifle drawn firing another shot that hit the Jedi in the leg this time.

Conjuring all of the strength he had left, Brutus turned and tackled the Jedi to the ground. Once on top of the injured Jedi Brutus started unleashing a barrage of blows with his fists. Once the Jin-Roh had become incapacitiated, Brutus grabbed a large rock from the ground, gripping it with his bloodied gauntlets. He brought the large stone up, smashed it down onto the Master's head, once, twice, three times, and more until there was no head left to smash.

Rolling off of the Jedi’s corpse Brutus breathed heavily. He had won. Tiamat was finally the Empire’s. Slowly moving to his feet Brutus walked to the few who were left. The Captain sat down next to his troops and pulled out his holocomm. “Karnu, the Jedi is dead.” He looked out across the landscape they had crossed only moments before and let out a breath of relief.

San Rend’s fleet was on the retreat- Solemn Glory was the first to jump to hyperspace, followed by Alicorn. Tumultuous and her captain lingered only a little while longer, trading shots with the Venator and Acclamator both as the last of the Separatist ground forces abandoned Tiamat. It was only when the last transport took off from the surface, with the surviving Echani aboard, that the mighty Providence-class dreadnought began to retreat. When the transport was aboard, the organic starfighters in the hangar, and the droid starfighters in their strange mechanical nests, Tumultuous too left Tiamat behind. To some, this battle was a loss for the Separatists. To San, it was part of a greater victory. He had learned about Karnu, about the man’s tactics- and how fatal it would be to underestimate him again. He’d seen how even a powerful Jedi could be overwhelmed by determined soldiers. Next time, he’d be more prepared. But as far as the Empire would be concerned, the Battle of Tiamat was decisively won.

[Just-An-Illusion]

The Aftermath Of Tiamat
Bridge of the Deliverance

Admiral Karnu stood on the bridge watching the remaining Separatist fleet hyperspace out of the system, leaving Tiamat in the Empire's hands. A small smirk appeared on the Admiral's face, despite San Rend escaping, Karnu felt satisfied in his victory. After the failure on Odessen, Karnu has been longing for a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of the Empire without the Inquisitors' incompetence getting in the way of the sucess in his mission. The victory here at Tiamat proved that the Empire didn't need any help from force users and that battles can only be won by tactics instead of magic tricks. As the Admiral embraced the smell of victory, Captain Harmenix walked up from behind to give a report.

"Captain Brutus is contacting you sir." Harmenix said as she stood at attention.

"Put him through." Karnu said as he went over to the holotable establishing a connection with Brutus.

“Karnu, the Jedi is dead.” Brutus said.

"And to think this day couldn't get any better, well-done Brutus. I want you and the remaining ground forces to secure the planet once you have secured the planet head back to the Deliverance for debriefing." Karnu ordered before ending the call with the Clone Captain.

The Admiral soon walked back over to Captain Harmenix, who was talking to the other deck officers before turning around to face Karnu.

"Permission to speak Admiral?" Harmenix asked.

"Granted." Karnu responded.

"I just want to say, I am impressed with how you handled the battle. During my entire career in Tanwitt's fleet, I had never seen an Admiral be so bold and decisive with their strategy before." Harmenix said admiring the Admiral.

"That's because most Admirals don't have the patience to plan out their tactics carefully even if things go wrong in a battle. An Admiral must always keep their focus and cool during a battle even when things go wrong." Karnu explained.

"Like how Decimus got his ship destroyed?" Harmenix asked almost disgusted at the fact that she mentioned his name out loud.

"Decimus was a fool in engaging the enemy fleet like that.... His incompetence almost made us lose this battle. Luckily, I was able to fix Decimus's mistake and turn the tide of the battle. It's all about keeping focus on the battle and ignoring all outside distractions." Karnu explained.

"Either way.... I'm glad I got to see the Wolf of Raxus Prime in action. I am honored to serve under you Admiral." Harmenix said as she quickly saluted the Admiral.

"I look forward to learning more about your tactics."

"The honor is all mine Captain; under my guidance I will make sure you rise through the ranks of the Imperial Navy and see your potential grow." Karnu said smiling at the young captain.

"Speaking of which... I know I said you were supposed to command this battle, but as you saw things didn't go quite according to plan, so I was forced to command the fleet. Once we get a new mission, I will let you command the crew of the Deliverance."

"I would be honored to take command of the crew." Harmenix said.

"Good I look forward to seeing you in action." The Admiral said before walking past her to stand near the bridge's windows as he watched remaining Imperial starfighters return to the hanger.

[Flarbinia]

Captain Decimus kicked over the body of a dead officer, the Trandoshan lying lifeless on the floor as the Separatists who had surrendered when the war room was stormed by the 797th were walking out of the bunker with hands on their heads. "San, you coward. You hid while your lost cause fell apart and now you've abandoned the natives to the Empire's wrath just to save your own worthless hide. And for what? You may have gotten away with enough Nova Crystals to replace your losses in the short-term, but once the body count rises high enough, your mercenaries will abandon your lost cause. Without them, all you have are a few brave men and some aging Battle Droids. How will you continue the fight after that? You have no allies. Your fellow Separatists see you as nothing more than a rival to be eliminated and the Hutts will sell you out to the Empire the femtosecond you become more trouble than you're worth." Decimus said as he watched the last of the Separatist fleet enter hyperspace on the holographic map of the Tiamat System. A pair of Clones entered the room with a silver-plated Protocol Droid. "I am TC-64. How may I be of service to the Empire?" The protocol droid said to Captain Decimus, the Imperial officer turning to address her. "Go to the leaders of the native population. Inform them that San Rend has left them for dead and that the only way to save their people is for them to lay down their arms and surrender." Captain Decimus said to TC-64, the Protocol Droid heading out of the bunker without question. The holographic projector hummed to life. "Admiral Karnu. I have not only survived my failure, but have captured several Separatist officers. They should provide Intel that will help us in hunting down San Rend." Captain Decimus said to Admiral Karnu as he stood at attention. He knew that the Admiral did not have a high opinion of him after his foolhardy charge had caused the destruction of the Mutina.

[The Imperial Republic]

Admiral Solaria Tane, former Officer of the Republic Navy
Aboard the Last Resort, Mek-Sha

---

Time had seemingly resorted to passing by slowly aboard the empty vessel belonging to Jedi Master Shan, formally the Grand Master of this ragtag band of rebellious traitors, at least in the Empire's eye. As Admiral Tane sat in the co-pilot's seat in the ship's cockpit, staring out across Mek-Sha's busy and colorful business centers and residential blocks, she pondered where it all went wrong. Where were the signs? Were they evident the entire time she'd been in command of the Acclaimed? At this point, she'd been so detached from proper military thinking that she almost didn't want to think about her career. All she cared about was ensuring that her group was safe. Since her arrival to Odessen with Afon, she became devoted to these Jedi. It was less the fact that they were Force-sensitive duelists and more for the fact that they were kind, gentle, and fair to her. They could have killed her for being an Imperial spy, yet they stayed their hands. How easy could it have been for Tane to simply be an agent to the same organization she served in for years, only under a new paintjob. Yet, they put trust in her. Afon put trust in her, and in that three months at that dilapidated rust bucket of a headquarters, she'd proved herself valuable to this Jedi Remnant. She became one of them, poking fun at the Jedi Knights during the dinners in the 'Temple's' workshop turned refectory, only for them to respond in kind with some snotty comment regarding her former devotion to the same institution that tried to assassinate them. It was all in good fun, though, and she never took the comments seriously. Hell, when half the Galaxy and a million-strong army was out to get you, sometimes all you needed was a good jab to keep it light-hearted. And that's what they did. Despite the lack of good hygienic practices made so by the lack of alot of infrastructure, it was some of the best months of her life.

The brief tapping against the Resort's Landing Ramp made her jump despite it's relative softness. She lifted her back off of the seat's lumbar-supporting backrest, still remaining seated as her heart began to pound in her chest. Who the hell? She said to herself. Had it been any of the Jedi, they'd have spoken with her on the communication device she had in her pocket. Even when Vrudun came by, dumping his dirty laundry into the floor of the ship, he'd still been courteous enough to radio in that he was waiting for entry, even though she watched the whole scene play out from the cockpit. She watched Vrudun board the Vigil, then watched him come down with his backpacks and the ship take off. She tried to communicate with the Vigil, but never received a reply. Even when she tried to interrogate Vrudun about why Beli had left with a valuable starship as well as with the two HK-51 droids, an even more valuable commodity they could have used to further protect the Jedi. He never responded and only served to anger Tane more. Regardless, she slowly rose from the seat, unholstering her DC-15S sidearm. She turned and opened the cockpit door, revealing Passenger Seating and beyond, the Crew Lounge. Again, she heard the knocking, this time louder. She walked through the ship, coming close to the Ramp, closed shut. Whoever it was had to have been right under it. If it was station flight control, why didn't they just communicate over the radio. She put her communicator up to her mouth, clicking the button that put her into communication with Afon. "Afon, we've got a visitor at the door here at the ship. They're just knocking, no speaking or anything. What should I do?" She asked.

"Guard that door but do not open it. I'm heading back over there." Afon replied. Yeah, thanks alot. She said to herself. Despite her reservations, she approached the ramp controls, pressing the exterior comm unit attached next to the ramp. "This is a privately owned vessel. If you're Station security or something, give me some credentials over comms or from the flight control tower. I ain't opening until you do." She said, immediately backing up and aiming her sidearm at the ramp, should they attempt to blow the door open, though she would hope not.

[Anowa]

Mek-Sha, outside the Last Resort
GSC [3.3.8.981]
Jedi Knight Xin Endoni

---

A resoundingly negative response, one that -despite Xin's current state bordering on paranoid delusions and hair trigger bouts of murderous intent- was reasonable. This was Hutt space, opening your ship was just as likely to be in response to a dock worker as it was a band of hijackers. Sure, she could rip the door open if she wanted to, but what would that accomplish? Probably get shot and have a ship that would need repairs before entering the cold unyielding vacuum of space. The Force was doing a piss poor job of saying what it meant by hand holding Xin to this ship. Was it the sole individual on the ship? The ship itself? or something in the ship? Was it even the force, or had her mind finally snapped after 3 months of the same paranoid delusions.

Xin shook her head as her mind drifted a bit, wandering thoughts about the past three months, she had barely slept longer than 4 hours a day, water was scarce and food even more so. She had meditated maybe twice in the past 3 months, and those meditations were more to keep herself alive through starvation than they were to reflect on her own emotions and thoughts. It was obvious to the woman she wasn't thinking straight, yet she didn't have the luxury of taking the time to wrap her mind around what had happened, why it had happened, and who was actually chasing her. Regardless of that, said meditations could come later, the feeling in her gut didn't fade, simply churning until she was borderline nauseous. This ship had something up with it, for good or for naught, she needed in.

She'd be opening that door one way or another, but at the very least she could try doing so without wrecking the rear end of the ship. Xin turned away to see if anyone else was approaching, and started hyperventilating for a few moments before switching to deep breaths. It was the easiest way in her current condition to alleviate her anxiety. Turning back towards the ship, she closed her eyes, as she raised her organic hand.

There were a multitude of times during the Clone Wars, and even before, where she had needed to open a door with no handle, most of the time figuratively, some times literally. No matter the panel she visualized, it could be done, it just needed some trial and error. The first few times she did it on simple blast doors and airlocks in commercial sectors or residences, she eventually got used to those enough that she didn't need to focus as much as she did now, the same could be said of the various CIS terrestrial prefabs and ships. However, this ship was new to her, and her mind was not as clear as it should have been. It took a few minutes of unbroken focus, likely a few light switches, or door controls for elsewhere on the ship, but eventually, there was a shudder as the ramp began to open.

Xin opened her eyes as she looked p at the widening crack in the ship's silhouette, all she saw asit widened was metal, polymer, and rubber of a ship's internals, still no person yet. Perhaps a little to late for it to matter, Xin opened her mouth to speak behind the disguise of rags, "I don't mean you harm... whoever you are."

It was not a voice Xin herself recognized. It was strung out and rough, the voice of someone who had spent days screaming to the heavens and had not yet healed. Xin came to realisation that maybe her few bad encounters in homeless shelters weren't from her paranoia based excuses, but because she had developed habits of screaming in her sleep to accompany the nightmares.

[The Imperial Republic]

Settling In
Master Nardrashtasch and Padawan Tuka Tisrygian

---

"Thank you all, rest well, and may the Force be with you."

Master Nardrashtasch departed the group, moving past Master Ag'derrod, nodding to her in a show of respect from master to master. His gaze was set on the double doors to the right, ones that would lead to the living quarters. Before he entered, he turned his head to the Jedi as they dispersed, Vrudun Tumara being the first to completely walk out of the compound, though he assumed the zabrak had important business to attend to and paid it no mind. His sights were set upon Tuka Tisrygian, his apprentice. He nodded to him in the direction he wanted to walk, quietly motioning him to follow him to the quarters.

Said apprentice had remained quiet for the duration of the introductions, but followed the Wookie master's example of respect by nodding to Master Ag'derrod before moving to the Wookie's side. Tuka hadn't really had the chance to converse with Nardrashtasch at all after the Bounty Hunter attack on Odessen, so the Padawan flashed the Jedi Wookie a smile of appreciation. As Padawan Tuka took his master's side, Master Nardrastasch returned the smile with a solemn nod to him. "Apprentice, It is good to see you again. I was asleep for most of it but Padawan Rhys tells me I very nearly died? Could you imagine?" Master Nard said in a somewhat sarcastic tone, in an attempt to be light hearted to his young Padawan. "I'm glad to see you've survived Odessen, Tuka." Said the master wookie, placing a furry hand upon his back and patting it as they walked in, noticing a long hallway of individual rooms divided by manual durasteel doors on both sides. The pair of Jedi continued their walk towards the end of the hallway.

Tuka chuckled at Nard's sarcastic quip, eyeing the manual doors with a sense of curiosity. As Nard spoke again, the Padawan smiled again at the apparent appreciation. "Thank you, Master. There were a few moments back then where things seemed... uncertain." Tuka replied in a somewhat solemn tone. "Though it means a lot coming from you." He finished, gaining back a small smile.

The two stopped at the very last door at the end of the hallway, facing a solid grey metal wall with no visible markings at all. Master Nard turned to face Tuka in front of the last door. "Do not thank me, Padawan. There was little I could have done to help you survive something as...horrid as what we faced. You stood against the tides of darkness and lived through it. Nothing is uncertain, everything is known through the Force. Trust in the Force, trust in yourself." Master Nardrashtasch grasped the handle upon the door and opened it, the door sliding open upon it's rollers with a squeak. Within the room was four beds, two stacked atop each other on opposite sides of the room. In the middle was a single circular rug and along the back wall was a long table with two chairs. Nothing useless was present in the room. The rug would even serve a purpose as a more private meditation platform. Master Nard was the first to step in, followed by his apprentice. The wookie master turned and, using the Force, shut the door behind them. "What comes next may very well be the most challenging test of your life, Tuka. Perhaps I myself don't trust in the Force, no matter how unlikely that is. I don't trust this place, Apprentice." Said Master Nard with a hint of worry in his voice.

Tuka was about to ask a dumb question, but silenced himself before he spoke, thinking thoroughly. They had found a safe haven away from the Empire and other prying eyes, and even found another Jedi! The Padawan looked to Nard with a curious look. "I-I'm not sure i quite understand, Master. We've found another Jedi and a safe haven against the Imperials! What do you mean you don't trust them?" Tuka finished in an honest and curious tone, with slight worry emerging at the end of his sentence accompanied by the Padawan's head flicking back and forth, looking around the room.

Master Nardrashtasch turned and looked away from Tuka, examining the room and its finer details. The room was little more than a storage unit converted into living quarters. In fact, this complex had to have been a storage complex at one point. All the rooms most likely looked the same. "The Force is clouded, Padawan. I sense an alternate motive to Master Ag'derrod, though I simply do not know. Perhaps it simply was because her emotions were welling within her upon the sight of more Jedi. Perhaps she was like us, Tuka, and believed her to be the last of thousands. She came here, lost, alone and frightened. Perhaps that is all and I'm simply not as trusting as I used to be. But I sensed something about the hooded ones we encountered briefly. Who were they? I could feel the Force shrouding them, surging through them. They appeared neither like a Jedi nor a Darksider, yet they were Force-sensitive. Tell me, Padawan, what kind of entity were those? Were they apprentices, despite the rule of only one Padawan at a time? Of course, this is a trying time and taking more than one would serve to fill her ranks quicker. Yet, I feel as this may not be the case." Stated Master Nardrashtasch. Padawan Tuka thought for a moment before replying. "I do have to admit that they were.. suspicious." Tuka scratched his chin for a moment, before continuing. "I... I truly have no idea what those were, Master. If they are apprentices, then why hasn't Master Ag'derrod taught them proper?" The Padawan grew silent, fiddling with his disguise.

The wookie master remained silent for a moment as he walked over to the table, placing his furry hands down upon it and contemplated what this all meant. "In the Order, we had Seekers who would be tasked with finding new younglings for the Order. To be trained into Initiates, Padawans, Knights, Masters. You know all of this. Seekers had a difficult job but it was one we trained them for. Master Ag'derrod, what are the odds that she was a Seeker? And if so, she's but one Jedi in a Galaxy full of enemies. How could she have amassed so many in a few months whereas it would take Seekers years. I don't understand it, apprentice." Master Nardrashtasch said as he turned to face his padawan once more. "But I plan to find out. Grab your things, Tuka. This will be our lodgings for now." Tuka nodded at Nard's words, proceeding to walk over to a bed and stash his bag with whatever he had left after Odessen under the bed. The Padawan remained silent on the issue og Ag'derrod, though his face bore a conflicted expression. There would be some interesting days ahead, Tuka was sure of it.

Master Nardrashtasch walked over to the other side of the room to the other bunk bed and sat down upon it. He looked over to Padawan Tuka, witnessing the expression left upon his face by Nard's concerning words. Perhaps it was cruel of him to bring the matter up with him. They'd all fought so hard to get off of Odessen, watched their fellow Jedi die. Nard could sense an immense amounts of stress emanating from Tuka, like an aura. "Padawan.." Said Nard. Initially, he wanted to apologize to him, adding that stress of finding what he felt was a safe haven, only to be turned to doubt by his own master. Then again, Nardrashtasch couldn't deny what he sensed and what he observed. If this truly wasn't a safe haven for them, he would have liked for his own master to share in him his worries and doubts. Perhaps Tuka wasn't the same or perhaps he was. Either way, Nard swallowed the prepared apology he had built and instead asked another question. "How are you feeling? Leaving Odessen wasn't easy for anyone and we all left with our own share of scars, physically, mentally, and spiritually. I heard of what you did in the hangar at the Temple. You, Jace and Master Shan. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, apprentice."

As Nard asked, the Padawan froze slightly, thinking back to how he'd given in to the Wraith's power and how great it had felt. If another such confrontation took place, he was unsure if it'd be possible to refrain from pulling power from the darkness. Releasing a small sigh, Tuka stared into his bed while speaking. "...I'm fine, Master.. Just tired from running..." Taking a moment to breath, he continued. "It's also okay that you weren't there in the fight. The Force works in strange ways." "Though it's proper to trust in the Force always, sometimes the Force does not give simply answers to simple questions. It does indeed work in odd ways. I've lived a moderately long life for a wookie and in my time, I've come to realize that answers are found in unlikely places, including ones that the Force would have you find rather than show. Trust in the Force, yes, but do not hide behind it. It isn't a wall to shroud yourself behind and close yourself off. Allow yourself to feel your emotions but do not let them control you. That is the way of the Jedi, Tuka. Tell me what you truly feel, young one." Said Master Nardrashtasch, attempting to pull out whatever feelings he was really feeling. Tuka remained silent, taking a seat on his bed and staring into the floor. His true feelings were something of an enigma even to himself, and he did not know if it were simply because of the current situation or if the Sith Wraith was somehow purposefully clouding his mind. As the Padawan was about to speak, the thought of what would happen if anyone learned of his possession entered his mind. Mentally gritting his teeth, Tuka spoke. whilst partially telling the truth and partially lying. "Master, I.. I'm scared. I don't want anyone else to die!"

Master Nardrashtasch processed the young one's words. Slowly, the wookie nodded his head while preparing words to tell his apprentice. "Feel that fear, apprentice. Taste it, touch it, know it is there. Jedi do not suppress their emotions, never. They don't tell their masters they are fine when they are truly not. The most devastating defeat does not come from a blade, or lightsaber, or blaster. It comes from within, padawan. To lie to yourself and to spread that lie to those around you. That is dangerous. Be truthful, always. Not to yourself but to others. Lies are but a single wilted root to a dead tree known as the Dark Side. Do this for me, apprentice. Recite to me our Code." Said Nard, standing up to approach the padawan.

Tuka listened to the Master's words, remembering back to his training and memorization of the Jedi Code. "There is no emotion, there is peace." Closing his eyes while speaking, Tuka could feel a sense of calmness wash over him, yet in the distant corner of his mind he could hear whispers underlaid with his own words. Shrugging it off, he continued with the Code. "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge." This time, Tuka could make out the faint words of 'passion' and 'strength' mingled in the whispering. The Padawan went on to recite the next two verses, the whispering also increasing in strength. The sense of calmness that had originally been there had vanished, instead being replaced by an uneasiness and emptiness. "There is no death, there is the Force." Finally finishing reciting the code, the voice of the Sith Wraith echoed in Tuka's head. "The Force shall free me."

Opening his eyes again, he now found his left hand scratching his shoulder whilst shaking slightly, something he had not wanted to do consciously.

Master Nardrashtasch had ignored the bit of shaking and fidgeting his Padawan was doing, chalking it up to simply nerves. Master Nard stood in front of Tuka. "Emotion, yet peace. Death, yet the Force." The wookie placed his hand over Tuka's left hand, pulling it off of his shoulder. "There is death, young one. Death is inescapable. It comes for everyone. One day, I will be dead. Master Shan will be dead. The Masters, Knights, Padawans of now will be dead and gone, faintly remembered by those of this world. The Republic we know freshly in our memory will be long forgotten. The Empire that rises from the shadows will return to the shadows and not a one will speak it's name. All must end, all must die. But rejoice, Tuka Tisrygian. There is life in the Cosmic Force. There is breath within. There is peace and harmony. Do not fear losing any one of us for we never truly fade away. We become one with the Force and move on to become the very essence of life, the very fabric of existence. It will be a truly miraculous thing, Padawan. Death is not a punishment, it is a gift to the Jedi."

Master Nard placed his furry paw upon the top of the padawan's head and knelt down to look further into Tuka's eyes. "Do not be so selfish as to be fearful of losing the ones closest to you. That is attachment and it casts Greed's long shadow. Remember our Code, whisper it, become it. Be joyful for any of our passings but never forget them as they will never forget you. Vaulik Nevest, Inera Atala, Dan Brovil. They've become a part of something greater within the Force and that is something to never be saddened by." Master Nard said, removing his paw from his head and straightening his posture.

Carefully thinking over Nard's words, the Padawan gained a small, yet honest smile. Not finding any appropriate words, Tuka nodded his head in a solemn manner. After a moment of silence, Tuka spoke some simple words. "Thank you, Master. I.. I feel more confident, knowing that all those we have lost have found peace within the Force." Master Nard nods to Tuka. "Do not become discouraged by fear, Apprentice. Do not let it control you. You are a Jedi. Remain strong, Tuka. I do not believe this will be the end for us. Perhaps a bit of meditation may do us both well?" Asked Nard as he motioned towards the pad in the center of the room.

"Perhaps." Said the Padawan, hopping off his bed and approaching the pad. In truth, he was somewhat worried on if anything would occur once meditation started, considering his track record of using the Force had just allowed the Sith-King to torment him more. Still, Tuka felt that he had to try for both himself, and everyone else. Master Nardrashtasch allowed Tuka to take a seat upon the mat while the wookie would sit in front of him. Curling down to sit upon the floor, Master Nard crossed his legs as he waited for Tuka to do the same. "Meditation is essential for any Jedi. You know this. It brings balance to a Jedi's emotions, allows him to process everything he's suffered through and brings about a new attitude to many things. You know the process, Tuka. Breath deeply..." Said Nard. The Padawan followed what Nard did, crossing his legs and taking a deep breath, exactly how he had done it so many times before. Closing his eyes once again, Tuka was not met by eldritch whispering or by unhinged thoughts of his own making, instead he was only greeted by his own silence. Breathing out, Padawan Tuka couldn't help but recall how many times he had done the same steps over and over countless times before. He understood what Nard meant with the essential nature of meditation, yet he still felt... bored, as if something was blocking the fulfillment of meditation.

In the time it took Tuka to breath and attempt to focus, Master Nardrashtasch had pulled himself into a deeper state of mind and body. He credited it to his age. Perhaps, as a wookie, he had more time to acquaint himself with the spiritually mending realm of a higher existence. He'd been a Jedi Knight for a long time and in that time, Nardrashtasch studied extensively within the Jedi Temple. Perhaps that's what allowed him to fall so deeply into meditation in such a short time. In his journeys, he'd come to be very close with the Empty Meditation variant and found himself unable to seemingly master the Moving Meditation. In this state, Nard could still feel all around him, including Tuka. He could sense Tuka's inability to focus on meditation. "You must focus, Padawan. Clear your mind, center your strength."

Taking another deep breath, Tuka attempted to do as Master Nard had said, sidelining any fleeting thoughts. He tried thinking about his inner strength and trust in the Force. Eventually, the Padawan finally attained some level of immersion in the meditation. While concentrating, Tuka could still feel the odd sensation every now and then. He chalked it up to the Sith Wraith trying to poke holes into his mind again, so he ignored it as best he could, instead remaining focused on meditation. Master Nardrashtasch could feel a difference in Tuka's energy as the padawan began pushing himself deeper into meditation. If everything went correctly for the apprentice, the wookie master expected the session to take the next few hours, a period of time that would feel like mere minutes to them. Despite Tuka's more whole hearted attempts, Nard would monitor him.

Tuka would spend the next few minutes continuing to deepen himself in a meditative state. Just as things were starting to look up, the Padawan felt a sudden and aching pain emanating from the scar he had gained on Odessen. The pain only seemed to strengthened, and feelings not his own started ebbing into his mind. The serenity of his inner mind was replaced with a feeling of passion and rage. His feelings were overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of emotions, especially hate. The pain seemed to amplify, giving way to dark and hateful emotions. His mind was swirling, yet his body showed no signs of struggle, only an apparent deepening in the meditative state. It seemed like opening his mind and attempting to deepen himself in meditation was a bad idea. Master Nardrashtasch's eyes jolted open as an overwhelming sense of something unfamiliar washed over him. It felt as if he'd been attacked. Not in any way that might feel physical nor even mentally, but through his own spirit and connection to the Force. It haunted him slightly at the touch of something....dark. Doing his best to hide a truly concerned appearance, he simply nodded to Tuka, whom still appeared as calm and collected as he could. Within, Nardrashtasch could feel his own emotions beginning to boil over, as if a sort of rage washed over him. It was dark, cold, lonely. What....could this be? Nard thought as he watched his apprentice's head twitch slightly. "Padawan..." Master Nard said in his most calmest tone he could muster.

Tuka, however, did not answer the Master Jedi. Instead, he was too busy getting overwhelmed by the pure mental power of the Sith-King. The poor Padawan was now experiencing a quite realistic vision of himself bringing ruin and death. "The Age of Jedi is over. The Time of the Sith has come." Rang the voice of the Wraith inside the Padawan's head, utterly unaware that it had been somewhat sensed by Nard. Going even further, the Sith spirit seemed to intensify the emotions around Tuka, drawing upon all his held-back passion, rage and hatred. The room itself seemed to become slightly colder as the Sith's grasp on the boy's mind and body strengthened. As Tuka continued to either ignore or simply not hear his Master, Nardrashtasch was growing more worried. Meditation does not simply cut you off from sounds around you. Rather, it amplifies them, makes them stand out more as one becomes calmer, more centered and focused. Master Nard inched closer to his apprentice and with a tight squeeze, grabbed ahold of his shoulder, giving it a slight tug. "Tuka." He said once more.

As the Wookie's hand touched the Padawan's shoulder, he would discover that it was cold to the touch, like all warmth and comfort had been sucked out, leaving an empty void of malice and hatred. Attempting to break free from the hold of the Wraith, Tuka struggled with all his might, yet he could not break free. He was too weak to break free, too weak to break the mental chains holding him down. Once again he could feel the influence of the Sith-King, decimating what little inner peace remained and instead increasing the passion of breaking free. Through passion, his strength grew, and his power through that.

The Padawan could feel the Wraith's power waning, and his own power at the cusp of what seemed like victory. All it would take was a single push in the right direction, and his chains would be broken. Hearing Nard's words, however, took Tuka out of this mindset slightly, much to the Sith Wraith's annoyance.

Still, the Padawan did not respond, even as he seemed to be somewhat calmer.

It was becoming all too evident to Master Nardrashtasch that something other than Tuka was controlling this state he'd been forced into. Prior to the attack on the Odessen Temple, his apprentice would never have been unable to bring himself out of meditation, nor display such a displeasing and uncomfortable assortment of emotions and an aura that was much different than his usual one. It couldn't be ignored and as this Padawan's master, Nard would need to figure it out. As Nard removed his hand from Tuka's cold shoulder, he looked down upon it and remembered his training and his lengthy study of abilities he possessed through the Force. As a Sentinel, Nard studied a variety of combat abilities through the use of his now gone lightsaber and melded those with the Force, amplifying his abilities. He'd also studied other Force powers, such as the ability to sense the emotions and deepest thoughts of others. He would have found it valuable in his pursuits across the galaxy. The ability to read the minds of your witnesses and criminals. It was an instrumental tool for a Jedi. But to do so on your apprentice seemed wrong to Nard, despite its importance.

With a deep sigh, Master Nard reached to Tuka's face. With his right hand, he placed his thumb just under Tuka's eye on the same side. Placing the rest of his fingers upon the temple, upon the parietal and occipital portions of the skull. He'd learn this technique from his own master many decades before, Master Yukaro. As a Consular, Master Yukaro continued to assist Nardrashtasch along his more 'sensitive' missions that required a calmer touch than a lightsaber. In this time, he taught him many abilities, though much of them would have gone unused. One was the positioning for the fingers when trying to accurately use Empathy through the Force. After Master Yukaro's peaceful slip into the Cosmic Force, he tried to teach many of these abilities to his first Padawan, Akrai Hugart.
He failed in this endeavor, as the Mon Cala padawan seemed more interested in the talents of lightsaber combat and the more martial aspects of a Jedi, a path that seemed to interest many in the days of the Clone Wars. Regardless, none of them would have helped save his life during the Battle of Roche, where he battled fiercely with the droid army of the Separatist Alliance. It would also be where Akrai's thirst for battle would lead to his end. He felt as if he'd failed his apprentice for a long time, despite his pass of the trials and moving on to Knighthood. He would not fail this one.

Nard closed his eyes, focusing on himself and Tuka. As Nard silenced the thoughts within his mind, he could feel the Force swirling around him. Bowing his head slightly, he could feel the rush of energy flowing through and away from him though upon attempting to break through Tuka's mind, he reached a wall of darkness, an impenetrable field that he couldn't pierce through. Master Nardrashtasch's face tensed as he continued pushing, his breathing beginning to grow heavier. Despite his efforts, nothing from the Jedi Master was able to break whatever it was that was providing such resistance. This was obviously not of Tuka's work and very well may have been what caused such a deep and fearsome reaction to an otherwise normal and enlightening period of meditation. Nard removed his hand and opened his eyes, letting out a tired sigh. "Tuka, you need to break through this. I know there is something within you, something dark. Something....something powerful. But you are a Jedi, an instrument of the Light and vanquisher of the dark. Pull deep from within yourself and wake up. Remember the Code, young one. Remember it and recite it for me. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is Harmony. There is no Death, there is the Force. You know it, Tuka. Say it over and over again." Said Nard, hoping it would be enough to bring Tuka out of the state he was forced into.

Tuka's face shifted slighty, breaking the calm demeanor that had rested on his face. His hands were shaking as he attempted to do as Nard instructed. The Padawan tried with all his might to focus on the good things he'd experienced. He thought back to before the Purge, to the comforting walls of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. His thoughts ventured from memory to memory, searching every living moment for peace, knowledge, serenity and harmony.

The Jedi Padawan emitted a strange groan, seemingly waking up from this strange moment. Another moment passed and he opened his eyes, revealing blood-shot yellow eyes. "Old fool.." He said in a mocking version of his own voice combined with an echo of another, deeper voice. "Old fool. You cannot save your Padawan from me forever!" The corrupted voice grew slightly weaker at the end, perhaps indicating that the entity's hold over Tuka was slipping.

In all of Master Nardrashtasch's years as a Jedi, he'd never seen anything that caused such an overwhelming sense of fear. Upon the sight of the unfamiliar yellow eyes of a Sith that filled the young Tuka's irises, Nard's own eyes opened wider as he flinched, leaning back some as a low growl filled his Padawan's mouth. It was shocking. Nard knew there was something unfamiliar and dark lurking within his apprentice, something that seemed to have been pulled out from their attempts to channel Tuka's light side.

Though he experienced an up-close and potent form of fear, the wookie couldn't help but hear a slight tone from the evil within, a tone that signified a certain weakness. Was it from the battle raging inside the unfortunate Jedi apprentice? Instead of feeding further into the fear his body produced in response to something truly unexpected and horrifying, the Jedi Master pulled himself together, his face returning to it's usual stoic appearance, as that of many wookies, and leaned back in. "Who are you? What do you want with my apprentice, Sith?" Asked Nard.

The possessed Padawan glared into Nard, chuckling in a haunting tone. "I? I am a monument to all your sins." Tuka said in a mocking and cryptic manner. "As for your... apprentice.." He continued. "We exist together now, two corpses in one grave. I seek to free him from lies. Your lies. Lies for the weak! Beacons for the deluded!" Tuka raised his voice towards the end, gritting his teeth and balling his fists. As he opened his mouth as to speak again, he instead grunted and clutched his head as a sudden and powerful headache came over him. The yellow irises receded for a moment, allowing Tuka's normal ones to dart across the room in a spurt of panic before being consumed once again.

"I am him, as he shall be me."

The haunting voice of this evil spirit within his padawan both angered and filled the wookie master with anxiety and Nard was preparing a response until he saw the yellow eyes begin to recede and Tuka to return, beginning a spurt of fear and panic. The young padawan would have no time to ask any questions nor utter a sentence before what lurked inside him returned.

"I am him, as he shall be me." Said the guttural voice, pushing the words through a deathly and dry throat.

"No. You've made your greatest mistake, Sith. In your vain quest to garner some meek fear from one such as I, you've already ensured your downfall. You see, I know what you are. I know of you. You're nothing more than a relic of the past, desperately holding on for some semblance of life. You may have your grips on my apprentice, but it won't be for long. I'll pull you from this vessel and watch as you crumble and plea for mercy. You'll receive none and the last thing you see will be my face before you're cast into the Cosmic Force. Prepare yourself, Sith." Said Nardrashtasch.

"You waste your time, Jedi." The Sith Wraith spoke back to Nard. "You know he will yield to me. Some temptations can be resisted because they can be avoided, but some ... some are as inevitable as oxygen."

The body of Tuka winced once more, making the Wraith hold his head in another sudden headache as the consciousness of Tuka struggled to break free. Grumbling in annoyance, the spirit willed the lips of Tuka to speak once more, albeit in a much weaker tone. "It would seem like our chat is finished.. Though time... has taught me patience! But basking in temporary freedom, know that I look forward to our next encounter and that I will break you." The Sith Wraith ended his sentence with a chuckle which turned into a violent cough. Tuka fell backwards, hitting his head on the floor as the yellow irises receded, revealing the Padawan's brown ones.

Grasping his croaking throat, the Padawan slowly sat up and glued his eyes to the floor with an incredibly frightened expression. He did not dare to speaking.

"Be calm, Tuka. You're alright..." Said Master Nard in a vain attempt to comfort his padawan. He reached over and placed his hand upon the terrified Tuka's shoulder. As Nard did his best to comfort his padawan, Nardrashtasch had still been trapped in the last words of the Sith spirit that plagued Tuka.

"I will break you..." The last wispy words of an evil that knew no boundaries, nor recognized death's sovereignty, defying it and continuing to live on in such a deep isolation. It was at this point that Master Nard was becoming more aware to the fact that he wouldn't be able to solve this problem himself. He'd need Master Shan, perhaps even Master Ag'derrod, a truth he was skeptical to confront.

"We will free you, young one." Nard said mournfully.

Tuka looked up at the Wookie in a solemn manner. "I.. I'm afraid, Master. What if it comes during the night? What if i end up hurting someone.." The Padawan shook his head in worry. "I'm.. I'm a liability to everyone here.."

He caressed his throat, the soreness of having a Spirit speak through it slowly fading and being replaced by a thirst for water. Tuka looked upon his hands and clutched them weakly before moving his gaze to the floor, once more falling into silence.

"Do not be afraid, Padawan. For the moment, he is gone and you are free. This is something to rejoice. What you have inside of you is merely temporary and I swear to you that I will help you rid yourself of it. I will speak to Master Shan and if need be, Master Ag'derrod, as well. We will do what we must to protect you from this intruder. Until then, young one, you must be strong. Continue to recite our Code, remain defiant to his influence. Only when you're weak and doubtful will he gain power over you. He was unwelcome to you and you must steel yourself against him. I know I am asking much from you, Padawan. But in order for us to overcome this, you must fight." Master Nardrashtasch reached out, grasping his chin with his furry hand and pulling his head up. "No more doubting yourself, Tuka. You will not hurt anyone because you're stronger than him and thus will not allow him a single sliver of victory." Master Nard rose from the ground with Tuka, pulling him up with him to his feet. "Rise, Padawan. Be brave, be strong. We will fix this. Together. Until then, remain here. I must go speak with Master Shan at once if we are to begin working to get this Sith out of you." Master Nard began walking towards the exit, halting and remaining frozen in place for just a moment before turning back to Tuka.

"Padawan, this is your greatest Trial yet. You've survived the great betrayal at the hands of the clones. You survived a face to face fight with an Inquisitor and survived the destruction of our Temple, a feat that two of our best Knights could not." Master Nard used the Force to pull the door open and as he turned to walk through, turned back once more. "Jedi Knight Tuka Tisrygian. I like the sound of it." Said Nard, shooting a smile back to Tuka before exiting, closing the door shut behind him.

Tuka listened intently to the words of the Wookie, catching his smile just in time before the Jedi Master shut the door. Finally alone, the Padawan walked over to his chosen bed and apathetically collapsed on top of it. He groaned and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Jedi Knight, huh?" he said to himself while starting into the ceiling. "I guess this'll be where the fun begins.."

[Just-An-Illusion]

Naza's Introduction: Part 1


Brigia
Three Months Ago

Smoke can be seen rising in the sky as a battle rages across the planet's surface, the Republic has been stuck on this planet for several months trying to take back the planet from Separatist control. However, over the last few days Republic forces have been able to push the Separatist back into the capital city and it wouldn't be long until they secured the planet. Inside the city was one of the most brutal battles the clones had seen as both them and the droids were forced to engage to close quarter combat. Bodies from both sides could be seen lying in the streets of city, as the Republic continued to move further and further into the city trying to push the Separatist out. A platoon of clones can be seen taking cover behind a fallen down pillar taking pot shots at the droids firing upon their position.

"Commander! Jek is down!" One of the Clones called out as he dragged his injured brother behind the pillar to try and give him medical attention.

"Try to get him back in the fight! These damn clankers are closing in on us fast!" The Clone Commander ordered as he fired at a few B1 battle droids before taking cover behind the pillar again.

"Where are the generals sir?!" Another Clone shouted.

"They should be here by now... Until then continue to hold the line! Don't let these tin cans-" Before the Commander could finish his sentence, two figures jumped down from a building landing next to the droid forces and the next thing the Commander saw was a blue and green light swinging in a fast motion cutting down the advancing droids.

The Clone Commander watched as each blade finished off the remaining droids, once the swinging and cutting was done the Clone Commander could see their heroes it was none other than Jedi Master Sermi Bol and her apprentice Jedi Knight Naza Mivvi. Once the area was secured, Naza signaled another clone platoon to keep pushing forward into the inner parts of the city while her Master went over to the Clone Commander turning her lightsaber off.

"Is everything alright Commander?" Master Bol asked as Naza went over to her to stand right next to her.

"We're fine General.... If you hadn't shown up, we would probably be dead by now." The Commander said.

"I guess we owe you one huh?"

"No need Commander, we were just doing our jobs to protect you. Besides I heard rumors that this war will end soon, so hopefully we don't have to keep watching each other's backs all the time." Master Bol said with a gentle smile.

"Is this war actually going to come to an end Master?" Naza asked speaking up.

"Like I said it's mostly rumors... But who knows with how well things are going here we'll back at Courscant in no time." The old Arkanian woman said looking at her apprentice.

"Well if it's true, I look forward to having some peace and quiet." Naza said with a small smile.

"Heh your eager to get rid of us that quickly General?" The Commander asked chuckling to himself.

"Oh... No, I mean I'll miss you guys. It's just-"

"Haha, don't worry General I was only joking. Whatever happens it has been an honor serving under you two." The Commander said.

"The feeling is mutual Commander." Naza said embarrassed that she didn't realize the Commander was joking.

The three of them continued to talk as they discuss further battle plans to liberate the city from the Separatist. While in the middle of the conversation, the Commander's communicator started beeping.

"Coruscant is contacting us, you two go on ahead with any luck this message is probably telling us that the war is already over, and we can all go home." The Commander said stepping away from the two generals.

Both Sermi and Naza walked away from the area they were standing at and went up ahead as the distant sounds of blaster fire can be heard straight ahead.

"I must say, Naza you have grown a lot since those days as a youngling." Sermi said as she continued to walk with her apprentice.

"I still remember the day they brought you to the temple and you were absolutely scared of the other masters, except for me of course."

"Yeah... I was easily scared as a kid, wasn't I?" Naza asked.

"But you were able to overcome that fear and you have become one of the best students I ever had." Sermi explained.

"It was thanks to your guidance Master, that I was able to become the Jedi Knight that I am today." Naza said with a small smile on her face.

"Well, I can't take all the credit, you are the one responsible for becoming the person you are today. Once this war is over, you'll have to train on your own and continue to push yourself in order to become a Jedi Master like me." Sermi said smiling back at her apprentice.

Hearing these words from her Master, Naza felt hopeful in her future in the Jedi Order, and she looked forward to continuing her training as well as having some peace after the war. As the two continued to walk, the both of them would soon feel a disturbance in the Force as they felt the death of almost every Jedi. Naza was overwhelmed by all of this death and soon fell on her knees as tears started to form in her eyes.

"Master... What's going on?" Naza asked still trying to process everything.

"I don't know... But whatever is happening we need to return to Coruscant as soon as possible. Come on get up." Sermi said as she helped the young Mirialan Jedi Knight stand up.

Before Sermi and Naza could return to their original position, they saw the Commander leading a squad of clone troopers run up to them before stopping and pointing their weapons at their former Jedi Generals.

"Commander... What is the meaning of this?" Sermi asked.

The Commander didn't bother responding and soon ordered his men to fire on the two Jedi, Sermi quickly force pushed Naza away befoe pulling out her lightsaber to deflect the blaster fire. Naza still overwhelmed of feeling every Jedi's death was dazed and confused on what was going in when her Master had force pushed her away. Once her head became clear, she saw the clones that she fought with throughout this war firing upon her Master as she keeps deflecting the blaster blots.

"Master!" Naza called out.

"Naza get out of here! I'll hold them off!" Sermi shouted over the sounds of blaster fire.

"No! I'm not leaving you behind... We have to stick together!" Naza said as she ignited her lightsaber ready to join the fight.

"That's an order Naza! You need to go find help now! Now please go!" Sermi said as she got shot in the shoulder before finally getting shot in the head.

"MASTER!" Naza called out.

Before Naza could go over to her Master's body, more Clones showed up firing upon her as she started to deflect their fire. Deep down in the Mirialan's mind, she wanted to stay and fight but remembering what her master said. Naza decided to flee and find a way out of the city, using her force speed, Naza was able to get away from the clones, but it was only for a few minutes as she ran into another group of clone troopers that also started firing on the young Jedi Knight. Lots of thoughts were going through Naza's mind, but right now she needed to focus on finding a way out of the city.

[Kyraina]

Benn Cassnid

Jedi Temple, Coruscant//Operation Knightfall
Benn stood guard behind Jedi Master Tera Sinube, and watched as the Jedi master trained a variety of younglings in the more advanced lightsaber combat techniques. A smile formed behind the Mask of the Temple Guard that Benn wore, as it reminded him of his own training under Master Tera Sinube. A far simpler time and duty. The Smile quickly faded as Benn felt something wrong in force, but he couldn't tell what, as like always the dark side had clouded the force. He did have a bad feeling something was about to happen. His eyes met Master Sinube, who nodded at him.

About that time Benn felt a disturbance in the Force as the Temple Guards and Jedi Knights at the entrance were cut down. About that time the comms link in Benn's mask came online.

Temple Security HQ: <<All Guards and Security Forces, This is not a drill. The Temple is under attack by the Clones at the main entrance, Begin Temple Defense, shelter in place, or Evacuation procedures, based on locations of postings. I repeat this is not a drill. The Temple is under attack by the Clones. All Guards and Security Forces are to begin Temple defense, Shelter in place, or evacuation drills based on posting. >>

Master Sinube was already gathering up the younglings he had been training, when Benn left his position along the wall.

"Master Sinube, we need to move the students to the evacuation point, the Clones are attacking the Temple." Benn said, his voice dead pan behind the mask.

The Younglings looked at Benn in stunned Silence as Benn delivered the news.

"Right you are, young Guard. Come along Little ones. We have to get to the shuttle. Do you care to lead the way Temple Guard?" Master Sinube spoke, waving for the young ones to follow Benn.

"Why are the clones attacking us Master?" asked a Rodian Jedi Youngling.

"We have been deemed a threat by someone, youngling. We don't know who though. We need to get moving" Benn said as he left the training room and walked into the hallway with his saber drawn but not ignited. He looked around and saw the way was clear, so He waved the younglings out into the hall way. He led the younglings and Master Sinube down a series of hallways till the came to the rear hangers. Benn came to the door leading to the hangers, activated his Saberpike, and nodded to Master Sinube, who opened the doors to the hanger.

The door slid open to show 6 Clone troopers facing the door with blaster rifles raised, then the 6 blasters started to fire. Benn focused and started blocking shots from the 6 Clone troopers, His Saberpike a golden blur as he blocked bolt after bolt without missing a beat. While Jax was blocking each and every blaster bolt, the 6 Clones were laying down enough fire, that Benn could only deflect the shots, and not direct them back at the Clone Troopers, as well as not being able to go on the offensive despite having a near flawless defense. Benn knew though that if something didn't tip the balance soon, he and the younglings were done for.

"For one so young Temple Guard, you sure know how to put up a fantastic defense, but You do need help. Look younglings at his command of the force, as well as that of his lightsaber, to protect you as well as me. Now younglings, let's help the Temple Guard, For if He falls, so do we," Master Sinube said from behind him.

Before Benn could even respond Sinube put out a hand and the 6 clones went flying with the help of the younglings. armored footsteps could be heard marching through the temple to their current location, but at the end of the dock was a T-6 Jedi Shuttle. Benn lead the younglings and Sinube across the dock to the shuttle. By the time the group made it half way, blaster bolts went over their heads from the direction they just came from. Benn turned around and saw a squad of Clones at the door, and were firing at Benn and his group. He interposed himself between the clones and the younglings he had been escorting. As the clones fired Benn used his saberpike to once again form a nearly unbeatable defense, and stood his ground. He saw a flash of blue beside him as Master Sinube stood beside Benn and helped block the path as the Younglings boarded the shuttle. The Shuttle's engines started up and had started to life off the landing pad, when What sounded like a LAAT came around the corner of the building. Benn and Sinube turned their heads in time to see rockets streak out of the LAAT, and strike the T-6. Explosions filled the air as the rockets ripped into the shuttle. The Shuttle landed with a heavy thud on the landing pad, before sliding off the pad, and into the chaos below.. Both Benn and Sinube screamed as Sinube forgot about the defense and ran towards the end of the landing pad. At that Point, Benn, distracted by what happened with the T-6, was struck in the right shoulder by a blaster bolt, followed by one to the chest. Despite the armor on his shoulders and chest, the bolts still hurt like hell. He turned his focus back to the clones, and tried to block the blaster bolts, but between the growing number of clones, and the injuries he had just received, he was nowhere near as efficient.

The LAAT then turned and faced the two Jedi. It unleashed another salvo of rockets that impacted the landing pad. The two Jedi were thrown to the ground by the explosions, but then the landing pad walkway broke off between Benn and the Clone Troopers. Benn used Force Push combined with Force Jump to send himself through the air. He landed on the LAAT with a thud, and repeated the process again, flinging himself through the air.

After he landed in the back alley of the Temple district, He gathered what strength he had, and used Force Jump again to fling himself through the air and away from the Temple., He landed hard on a cargo skytruck on its way to level 1313, and he had suffered serious wounds. The occupants of the truck, seeing His armor and weapon, as well as the blood staining his robes, decided to take him to a nearby clinic. The Staff at the clinic stripped him of his robes, armor, and saber, putting them away in a safe place.

3 Months Later, GSC [3.3.8.981]
It had been three months since Operation Knightfall. Three Months since Benn had been blasted off a landing pad on the Jedi Temple, and sent tumbling down. Three months since he was brought to the Clinic on Level 1313 and treated. The Clinic staff had saved his life, and had told him what had happened at the Jedi Temple. It had taken him a long time to recover. He knew that if he left he’d be in trouble as he had no money and no contacts. The Clinic had decided to let him stay as he offered to help them out, using Force Heal to heal those that would otherwise die, the Clinic had asked him his name, but he had decided to keep it hidden as he had the past two years. They had also given him a place to stay.

He woke early and went through his morning routine of looking at his Temple Guard mask, checked his lightsaber, meditation and a quick breakfast. He walked down to the main floor of the clinic, where he started helping the staff treat patients. To him the day felt different and he couldn't figure out why.



Jax Raspim

Operation Knight//Temple District

Jax had just gotten to his place of residence in the Temple District, as he had spent the day off duty shopping for food for the week. He decided he needed a shave, so he went into the bathroom, and shaved. Afterwards he rubbed the now smooth skin that had been inhabited by a 5 0'Clock shadow. He quickly got dressed and grabbed his go bag. The Go Bag contained his badge, Uniform (including Armor), and even his weapons. Before the War he hadn't needed one, but when the Clone Wars started even off duty they were told to have their weapons and armor close by, hence the go bag. He was headed to a nearby cantina to drink part of the night away with his squad.

He walked into the bar in question, which was named the Wandering Basilisk, and saw his squadmates had sat at a table at the back of the room, right next to a group of Off Duty Clones. He walked over and sat with his Squad.

“Bergman, Sanchez, Durug, Terpfen, Na'synda, Kai Lya'Lya. Glad to see y’all here, Where is the rest of the Squad?” Jax asked the Squad.

“Sgt. Raspim, They should be on their way. In fact they should have been here by now. So we don’t know where they are.” The Bothan by the name of Kai Lya’Lya said.

Before Jax could even take a seat, the commlinks for the clones and the commlinks for Jax and his squad started going off. The Clones stood up and left the Cantina, while Jax and his Squad stayed in place.

Temple Command Post: <<All off duty security personnel report to the temple battle ready the clones are attacking the temple. All Off Duty Security Personnel report to the temple, the Clones are attacking the Temple. This is not a Drill I repeat this is not a ………..>>

The comms was cut short and filled with static for a few seconds before it disconnected. The 7 Members of Jax’s squad threw their Go bags on the table and pulled out their armor, and then armed themselves with Dh-17 Blaster Pistols. Afterwards they shouldered their packs and went to leave the Cantina.

As the squad of 7 went to exit out of the main entrance of the cantina, the first two of their members to leave, Sanchez, and Na’synda, were met with a volley of blaster bolts from a Platoon of Clones, and died before their bodies hit the ground. Jax and the others took cover back inside the cantina

“Bergman, Terpfen Stay here and hold the front. Durug, Kai, Take the back entrance. Make sure we are not being surrounded, we may need to leave that way. Now let’s get…….”

Jax was cut off as blaster bolts streamed in through the windows, cutting civilians down that were unlucky enough to be standing up trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Durug, & Kai in a crouched position, went to the rear door, each one taking a different side of the door frame One of them went to pull it open, and as soon as the door moved blaster fire ripped into and eventually through the door, making small holes in the door.

Bergman and Terpfen started firing out the door and windows at the front, while Durug & Kair did the same at the back. The Clones slowly advanced despite the Temple Security Guards laying down serious firepower trying to protect themselves and the civilians inside the cantina. Kai was shot through the head at the rear door, and Bergman took a bolt to his stomach at the front door, but he kept returning fire despite the injury. Jax rushed to the back door to help Durug keep the fire up at the rear door.

The Bartender peeked over the counter at the 4 security Guards holding the clones to a slow crawl forward despite being outnumbered severally, and then looked at the trap door he had behind the bar. Jax, while reloading his blaster, saw this action. He rushed over to the bar and saw the trap door and ripped it open, but about that time a another blaster bolt ripped through Bergman’s armor, killing him

“Guys, I got us a way out.” Jax said. He heard silence for a second, and then heard Durug dangerously close for just a second, say the unthinkable. “Sgt Raspim, get out of here we will hold them off.” He went to go turn around, but Durug shoved into the trap door, and shut it forcefully behind him.

Uptop Durug and Terpfen were offer the chance to surrender, and they did so, only to be executed as they walked out of the building Hands held up and unarmed.

Back inside the room that the trapdoor had dropped Jax into was bitch black, so he activated a flashlight, he looked around the room and noticed a bunch of crates in the room, and a door that looked like it was used frequently. He decided to avoid the door and look around for a minute. Eventually he came across part of the room that seemed not very well used, and noticed old scrapes along the floor in front of a wall, but no door in the wall, just some crates there. He noticed that the edge had been worn away in a fashion that indicated someone pulling on it quite a bit over the years, He placed his flashlight on the ground, and gripped the crates in the worn out spots and pulled. After a few hard pulls the crates and the wall behind the crates swung open like a door, almost causing Jax to land on his ass as he wasn’t expecting something so heavy looking to move so easily.

To Jax’s surprise there was a second door behind the one he had just opened up. He picked up the flashlight and looked at the door. The door didn’t open as he approached so he started looking for a release. Eventually he found one, and pulled it. The Door slid open with a hiss and a groan, and opened up to a dark, dirty, descending tunnel. He shined his flashlight into the tunnel. It hadn't been used in years and it was filled with dust and cobwebs.

He took the the Go Bag off his back, and holstered his Vibroknife, and DC-15A blaster rifle, while he kept the DH-17 in his hand, and the flashlight in his off hand. He walked into the tunnel, slowly and carefully, trying to maintain footing and trying to see or hear anything coming as his flashlight beam only went so far. After All, he didn't want to stumble upon any surprises.

There was the noise of two doors closing behind him. He walked for hours in the dark tunnel before a door became visible. He walked up to the door and found a door release. He grabbed it, turned his flashlight off and pulled on the door release.

Light flooded into tunnel, and Jax carefully poked his head out. He noticed he was quite few levels down in a old market, so he withdrew his head, and took the pack off his pack and took his armor off and anything that'd ID him as a temple guard, though he kept the DH-17 and the Vibroknife on his person, and in their holsters. He walked out if the tunnel, which closed behind him. After a few minutes of walking he recognized the Area he was in, an area not to far from where his family had their business at.

3 months Later

3 months ago, Jax had escaped the slaughter of the Jedi and the order's allies at the Jedi Temple, and made it to the hangers and offices that his family did both their Legal and Illegal business. With their contacts, they had gotten Jax a new ID under the Name Orion Brightstar, and was In his family's employ as both a freight runner and a courier. His Ship was called the Aerosteel, A Crescent Class Freighter, that was pretty much in stock configuration. He was saving money to change that, but it was a slow process. He was getting ready to leave Coruscant after having arrived three days earlier with food supplies for the city, as well as a very curious Nelvaanian that he had picked up when he had stopped for fuel close to her home planet, and had learned she was looking for the Jedi.

He had rubbed the Nelvaanian the wrong way with a sarcastic, smart ass attitude, but he had warned her very sternly to stay away from the Jedi Temple. He had hoped she needed that warning. Jax sat in the cockpit as the space dock crew loaded the ship up, but he quickly got bored of just sitting there, so he went to his room, where he took out his DC-15A and started to take it apart and clean it for the Untenth time in three days.

[Flarbinia]

As Ruhr entered his quarters, he sat down began to meditate, focusing on The Force. The Force had given him two visions. In one possible future, he was an old commander in shiny armor in command of an Imperial fleet fighting a losing battle against an unknown enemy, his life ended by an assassin as the bridge was filled with Dioxis, dooming the crew of the Victory-I and by extension, the rest of the fleet. In another, he had left the Inquisition and joined a Jedi enclave hidden on a forest moon, bearded and wearing shabby gray robes, disciplining his Padawan for cutting the hand off of a Quarren Padawan, his Lightsaber having a purple blade. Ruhr Draay concentrated on the images that were forming before him. He was the old man, but this time he was inside a palace, implying that he had thwarted the assassination he had seen in his previous vision. He was standing behind an arena, watching a duel or sparring match, light shining off polished armor of Phrik with a bronze finish. One of the combatants was a woman clad in black robes and wielding a Saberstaff with red blades and a hilt of Chromium, the other being a man clad in similar armor to his own and wielding a red bladed Lightsaber with a hilt of polished gold, his facial hair being from an older time. The two clashed, the woman's speed and agility being matched by her opponent's strength. This continued for four hours before Ruhr motioned for them to stop, the two combatants extinguishing their Lightsabers. "Impressive, but only one of you can inherit my throne." Ruhr said to the two combatants as he walked into the arena, the man and the woman bowing before him. "It should be me, father. As powerful as my sister is in the Force, her lack of knowledge in regards to military affairs and her obsession with unlocking the secrets of Sith Sorcery will cause the downfall of your domain." The man said to Ruhr Draay as he stared up at him. "Don't make me laugh, Plutarch. You are a capable warrior, but a military genius you are not. To add insult to injury, you know nothing of politics. Your ascension to the throne would cause father's realm to implode on itself." The woman said to her rival, her voice filled with arrogance. "You will have the chance to prove yourself, Krystina." Ruhr Draay said to his daughter before motioning for them to leave.

[United Islands of Polis]

Captain Cornelius Mors [CALLSIGN: Scarbrand]
Venator Class Star Destroyer Deliverance, High Orbit, Tiamat

It had now been hours since the assault on the insurgents. Regular forces were now sweeping the rest of the planet for any more rebellious groups. Cornelius had to admit it to these sailors, being outnumbered and facing defeat, they were able to pull through despite being unnumbered in ships and firepower. It was the victory the Jedi normally brought, against all odds, and yet winning. But that was just it, the Jedi. He helped kill a Jedi. Everyone so far inn the Empire, this new Empire were normally so hostile, so far at least. Knowing a kernel of the truth of their innocence in this as well did not help.

In the room that was the modified Nu Class Shuttle turned into a home, it was all silent, except for the sound of a boiling pot, at least until the contents of the pot started spilling out. Quickly turning off the induction stove, Cornelius wiped what he could clean before putting his head against the wall, slumping down, hands going to his face.

"What the hell is happening..."

He was regretting everything all at once. He was alive at least, but he didn't want to think about it much. He needed to keep himself better. His overflown oatmeal attempt still needed the berries he got not too long ago from a luxury market, at least that should help distract him. It was not. It tasted good, but however it still was not enough, he needed to get his mind off of it. But even as he performed equipment maintenance and ship maintenance, it still did nothing. He felt like he needed to atone for what he did, or at least say sorry to someone. But he knew that if anyone saw him like this worse things could happen.

Moving to the small refrigeration unit in the "kitchen", Cornelius pulled out a bottle of Dark Blue Milk from Ord Mantel. It was a cream liquor as far as he knew and had yet to try it. Popping open the cap he poured himself a sufficient amount into a mess kit mug. The texture was fine at least, and the aftertaste of the cream was there indeed. It did help himself ease into comfort at least. Adjusting himself in the folding chair to a slouch, he began thinking; What if instead he shot Brutus to save the Jedi? No, the clone had been nice to him after proving his worth, and it would have ended badly. And where would he go? The Jedi was going to fight to the last man, and even if they did make it off world, the next question was how long it would be until they were found?

Perhaps it was time to bury this image of the Jedi being good, even if his experiences thus far were rather good. Or maybe wait for an opportunity, but even then that was too risky. It is a thought he could entertain for a bit. Only for a bit. If it is true that they were going to meet up with this new Inquisitors, then he'd have to clear his mind. Cornelius was sure he could resist their tricks, but just to be sure, he needed to distract himself, and the drink was helping. It was too bad he had no one to share it with.

[Miekzhemy]

co-written w/ Imperial Republic

Jedi Knight Vrudun Tumara
Jedi Padawan Rhys Aatahl

---

Blue Harvest Enclave
Mek-sha

The mind was an odd thing.

In the darkness of the industrial center, Rhys sat quietly upon the rooftop of the decrepit storehouse that concealed their little chapter of exiles. Their new "home," for the time being. The Miraluka crossed his arms over the concrete-like railing, providing a semblance of cushion for his chin to rest upon. The ragged coat he had borrowed from Vrudun, some sizes too big for the young Padawan, was draped over his form for extra warmth. For several long minutes he was silent, lost in contemplation. For just a moment, forgetting the troubles that had plagued them.

Even to his kind, born without the eyes to view the vibrant city that glimmered around him, he could sense it all. The Force showed him the life and activity below. Perhaps more than what could be seen conventionally.

Much like the crowds of people that marched to and fro along the packed city streets below him, even those of identical species, no one mind was quite like the other. Some back home considered it a book. A vivid, in-depth, and ceaselessly expanding autobiography and encyclopedia of one's every thought, memory, and feeling--all tucked away in the enigma that was their brain. Some were clearer and more vivid, like a well-organized library. Others were jumbled in endless possible ways, at the mercy of a million factors of biology and mental development. Hardened by a lifetime of experience, or muddled by the poisonous substances that sated their sinful vices.

His focus fell upon a walking soul from the crowd, like plucking a flower from a field. It was not quite like delving directly into their thoughts, nor like flipping to a random page in the expansive "book" that was their mind - but rather...reading over their shoulder. Perusing whatever fleeting memory they had called to the forefront of their consciousness. Perhaps a source of their outward emotion, so easily felt by him without even a glance.

'They raised him a week's wages, so he pulled trumps from his sleeve. Cheated every credit away from them. He calls it survival of the fittest...'

It was when his lips curled into a contorted frown that Rhys felt a presence - another soul tickling away at the edge of his perception. As it grew closer, gracing his ears with the footfalls against the rooftop, its nature became clearer. Him.

"Padawan." Vrudun Tumara said with a near exhaustive tone to his voice. Since his return to the compound, he'd looked all around the area to find where Rhys had gone, to inform him of the change of transport. He wasn't surprised to find him sitting upon the top, in full view of the massive station, colors of blue, green, yellow, purple and red dancing across the horizon as the station's bustling population went about their normal lives. "I see you've found an...interesting place to meditate." Said Vrudun dryly as he moved in closer and sat down next to him.

"It reminds me of Coruscant," Rhys' soft voice replied, part of him just as weary as the Zabrak next to him. "At the Temple, I would often sit on the veranda at night. It was not always as quiet as the Archives or my quarters, but..."

Though he didn't budge, a faint smile formed on the Padawan's face as he reminisced.

"It was a special type of...tranquility."

Vrudun allowed a moment to pass of pure silence as the two sat next to one another. "I remember coming back to the Temple after long missions with Master Artine. Meeting my friends again, enjoying the comforts of the Temple, as few they were. It was peaceful and a calming feeling to know I was surrounded by those of my kind. I miss it."

Rhys idly drummed his fingertips against the concrete as he listened, turning his focus away from those below for the time being.

"I do too," he mused aloud. "Outside of the brief missions with Master Yan around the Galactic Capital, I rarely had the opportunity leave at all. But, looking back, I... took it for granted, I admit--the comfort of the Temple. Before we left for Mygeeto..."

The Padawan paused for a time, the remains of his smile fading at the recollection. He banished the thought, instead turning an ear to Vrudun.

"What was it like, journeying the outer Galaxy...?" Rhys asked. "Before the war?"

Vrudun allowed a bit of a smile towards the edge of his mouth at the mention of before the war. "Ah, before the war." he said. "Before, it wasn't much different. Prior to our deployment as Commanders and Generals, the Jedi were still sent to the more impoverished sectors of the galaxy. Areas with high crime, problems within the local government. Conflict continued to be in our nature, at least that was the case for me and Master Artine. The Clone Wars was simpler. We knew who the enemy was and we were pointed at it. Before? The enemy could have been the shadows themselves or the local drug lord that ruled the sector. Perhaps even the president, governor, or overseer themselves. Corruption ran amok and the Jedi surfed through much of it. At least this time we had divisions of clone troopers in support."

"Hm," Rhys grunted in acknowledgement, nodding to nothing in particular. "It must have been quite the adventure, Master..."

Compared to some of the other external and internal conflicts within the Republic, it had seemed so much simpler, yet somehow complicated at the same time. The thoughts of the Clone Wars occupied his mind for a time. Or, namely, the clones themselves.

"But I still...just do not understand..." he remarked, unintentionally piggybacking off of the notion he hadn't even brought up yet. The thought that had been plaguing him since the very start. "The clones... Why would they do such a thing...?"

Rhys trailed off, almost realizing that now. He deigned to elaborate.

"On Mygeeto, Master Yan and I--and everyone from the Medical Corps, sent from Coruscant... Not only did we handle the refugees, but the clones too. The wounded. The lucky ones who survived with the scars of battle. They were all in our care, no matter how lowly many of the Sages viewed them. No matter how lowly they saw themselves. Master Yan told me that, artificial as they were, the Force lived in them just as it did within all souls," he went on, lightly shaking his head. "But when I first looked upon them, the fresh reinforcements who hadn't yet seen action, I saw... They all seemed the same. Identical in body and mind. Like they were neither human nor inhuman. Like...blank slates."

The Padawan's brow furrowed, thinking aloud. "But after a few months, I came to notice a break in the trend. In the survivors. They had..." he rushed to pick the right words. "Formed personalities of their own. Some angry. Some despondent. Some...talkative. Amiable, even. Those same blank slates, now molded by their own experiences. Taking nicknames of their own. Forming habits, and attachments..."

He ever so slightly hung his head.

"In time, I would have considered some of them as friends..."

Vrudun nodded in response to Rhys' experiences with the Republic-wide assassinations of the Jedi officers in their ranks. "I was on Metalorn. Embedded with the 53rd. The Separatists and their Skakoan fighters were dug in deep in Denkoll. It was a bad situation. No heavy armored support, air support was getting wracked by Anti-Air Cannons. It was brutal, bloody. Our communications were jammed so the order that genocided our order was delayed. I....I felt it before it happened, Rhys. This sense of dread washed over me on the battlefield, caused me to collapse. Commander Cutt was there for me."

"He fixed me up, unknowing of what was happening across the galaxy. None of us knew." he went on. "By the end of the fighting, it was just me and Cutt. We shut down the anti-air defenses and the comm jammers. That's when the order came through. A hooded figure...I could...feel the hatred and darkness shroud him. Execute Order 66. I killed him before he could kill me and I ran. Ran through the slums to escape, nearly got killed by a Commando squad, but managed to make off with their shuttle. I was being chased until Vulture droids came in and took them out. Because they were so busy with my pursuers, they didn't have time for me. It was the one and only time I was ever thankful for Separatists." Vrudun said, getting a bit of a chuckle out from himself mentioning the saviors.

Rhys sat in quiet deliberation as his master spoke, retelling his own account of that day. Each of them in this hideout had been subject to some ordeal, that much he knew, but few even in their tight-knit band that arrived here could bring themselves to share the more gruesome details. It was understandable, given his familiarity with the more scarred of refugees and soldiers he had cared for in his brief time in the field--as well as his own experiences of that day.

But in his own contemplation, a single word seemed to strike a chord in him.

"An order..." he mumbled. "They were ordered to do this, yes... But..."

Rhys slowly shook his head, two fingers rubbing at his temple.

"But I still just do not understand!" he repeated himself, his voice rousing from its typical somberness to a more impassioned tone. “I knew them, master! I saved their lives, and they thanked me for it! We shared our own stories! Our shared duty to the Republic! They were people! Each of them, a person!"

The young Padawan turned to "look" at Vrudun, and the contorted brows and clenched jaw were evident enough that beneath the surface, finally bubbling to the top, was a sense of...anger.

"What mere orders would drive them to exterminate the ones that fought and bled at their side...?"

"Padawan, I have no answers for you. At the time of the order, I resorted to surviving and very nearly died, regardless. The fact that it happened to every Jedi here, each likewise surviving a near identical situation tells me they were forced to do so. I don't know how or why this could have happened, but the Jedi Order and the Republic were destroyed because of it."

Vrudun looked over to Rhys, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "As terrible and terrifying that is to comprehend, we must look to the future now. We can no longer afford to try to figure out why it happened. Now, we have to focus on keeping the surviving Jedi alive and look to rebuild. Our attempt on Odessen had failed but we will start again."

It was then that the Padawan let out a sigh.

He felt utterly deflated. Powerless, even. The aspiring young Jedi that, to his own late Master, epitomized their values of patience, restraint, and selfless magnanimity. To have been brought to this... Little more than a brooding husk of shot nerves and repressed pain. Even after his uncharacteristic outburst, it only seemed to yet again strike a nerve within him. The same nerves that just couldn't - wouldn't - be soothed, despite the months of mental contemplation...

But despite his disappointment, he had to be stronger than this. Better than this.

"I-- I'm sorry, Master..." Rhys mumbled, almost in a low whisper. He swallowed hard. "You-- You are right... I just..."

He trailed off, merely turning to rest his forehead in the palm of his hand.

A moment of silence washed over them as they sat in silence. There was never a good time to tell this to his apprentice, though it was less important to him than it was to Vrudun, but it needed to be said.

"Rhys, I need to tell you something." Vrudun removed his hand from the Miraluka's shoulder and looked down. "I went down to the docks, to the Vigil. Beli and I had a....discussion. Needless to say, this endeavor we forced her on seems to have opened her eyes to an increasing amount of danger that continues to build the longer we are being pursued by the Empire. It's only a matter of time before that dark lord we encountered in that hangar back at the Temple returns. We nearly failed to escape his grasp before. I'm afraid we won't be so lucky on the second round. Because of this, Beli has decided to part ways with us and return home. She continues to offer assistance should we ever deem it an extreme necessity, but her part in this is over. For now, the Last Resort will be our home." Vrudun said, attempting to hide the sadness in his voice.

It led Rhys to perk up almost immediately, now overcome with a...different type of worry.

"She is...gone?" he finally spoke up, almost outright forgetting his own concerns for a time. "But I thought-- She-- She seemed unwell--! What happened...?"

"She..." Vrudun paused, almost in an attempt to give him time to concoct a decent lie to tell his Apprentice. It was so beneath him, trying to find some excuse. "It was always temporary for her, Rhys. She saved my life on Kijimi, patched me up, helped me get the Vigil. She could have went back home then, but instead stayed with us at the Temple, though she didn't have to. She believed being here, away from the prying eyes of the Empire, with another survivor's group, was the safest we could be. She had other matters to attend to and could no longer be here with us. Simple as that. I'm afraid that's all I know..."

Despite his explanation, it was a hard pill for the young Padawan to swallow. He liked to have considered her a good friend, perhaps more so than the rest of his fellow exiles, after having been taken under Vrudun's wing. He had cared for Beli's well-being just the same, even if it were simply lending an ear to the troubles weighing down upon her - much like he had with Jace during the long, quiet journey here. It struck a nerve deep in his heart, hearing of their companion's sudden departure.

A nerve that might as well had grown numb by now...

"N-not even a goodbye...?" Rhys mumbled, sharing in his master's grief. He faintly buried his head in his hands, letting idle fingers sift through his own unkempt hair. "B-but Beli-- I..."

He once more trailed off, sinking into silence yet again. And though he didn't necessarily show it, he felt himself...caught off guard by something. So enraptured by his own bitter, hollow feeling of loss that he had almost failed to notice the effect on his own Master. Try as he might to steel himself, deep down his master seemed...utterly shattered. As if sundered at the fundamental level. A gaping wound torn open, leaving naught but a void of suffering in place of whatever previously laid within that shell. Simply sitting in the dour Zabrak's presence seemed to invoke the sheer distress and unease upon himself.

It was in this momentary quiet that Vrudun felt a peculiar presence. A tickle at the edge of his own inner perception. Something...intrusive, for but a split moment. Not a bothersome sensation, but oddly soothing.

'Worry, sadness, loss... Ravenous, gnawing away at his very being. Compassion. Care for a life so beloved...'

A soft, gentle touch upon his shot nerves.

'And a life...yet to come...?'

Even as the gentle nudge within the Jedi Knight's mind passed, almost as quickly as it had come, Rhys sat almost like a statue now, save for the idle twitch and shake of the Padawan's fingers. A dollop of sweat trickled down his forehead.

But when he slowly craned his neck to "look" upon Vrudun, a new expression rested on the young Miraluka's face. It was...the last thing he expected. So unexpected in fact that he didn't even know how to rightly describe the twisted amalgamation of emotions that swirled within his own mind. Fear, perhaps? There was a reason he abhorred using such techniques on his fellow Jedi, but...

Distress? Confusion? Betrayal, even...?

Or perhaps, simply the same mutual anguish...

"M-master... I--"

Though Vrudun was unaccustomed to the feeling of being intruded upon within his mind, he was quick to pick up on the unusual feeling twirling around inside of his head, his neck twitching as he noticed the feeling. His face shifted to a confused appearance, wondering what could have caused it, or who. He looked over to Rhys just as the young apprentice did the same.

As Rhys had tried to mumble out, Vrudun's expression began to shift to anger. "You had no right..." he said, the Zabrak trying to hold in his frustration and his scorn to the Miraluka. He couldn't tell if he meant to or just couldn't help himself. But now, it would seem that his Padawan had found out what both he and Beli tried desperately to hide.

"You had no business, Padawan!"

The realization took some moments to sink in. But when it did, it hit the Padawan harder than anything he could have expected. It explained the subtle details. The often awkward conversations. The state of Beli's own health. The...secrecy. The reasons were obvious. He recalled the rules he learned as early as his initiate days on Coruscant. It was a blatant violation of the Code they had all vowed to follow. Striven to adhere to for all their days, even in these times of strife. Perhaps in several ways, even.

But regardless, Rhys felt himself regretting even pressing the issue at all. The state of his trusted master had seemed so crippling. So wracked with negative emotion that he couldn't help but cling to his tell-tale method of empathizing and understanding the inner plight of his peers. But while it was effective to understand the problems of one sorely hesitant to admit them, at the same time it was utterly prying. Frowned upon to be used without the express consent of the parties involved. Outsiders were none the wiser, but his fellow Jedi? Vrudun had said it was not his place...

And he was exactly right.

Rhys sat rigid as a statue, stricken with a certain panic and gloom that his master need not even sense. And all the while, the boy chastised himself for the rash action. His insolence. What had he done? Why did this always happen to him? Why did every attempt to right the wrongs only be met with more suffering? Why must he fail like this, again and again?!

He didn't even know what to think of it anymore...

"B-- I... I'm... Wh--"

In a single, painstakingly slow movement, the Padawan hung his head before his master in nothing less than pure, unadulterated shame. Hands balled into fists. He somehow seemed even more defeated than he had just a minute ago. More broken and conflicted--more struck dumb with grief than he was the first day he had arrived on Odessen.

Perhaps, had he eyes to shed them, tears would've been flowing down his face.

"Why? Why did you go looking where you weren't welcome?" Vrudun hissed, continuing to hold back his anger as he stood up from his sitted position. He stood over the Miraluka, his hands balled into fists as his breathing grew heavier. "Have you not a good reason for this? Was it simply because you couldn't hold back being so intrusive, without a thought or care for my own feelings and reservations towards such an action?" He outright shouted, his rage slowly seeping through directly at his young apprentice.

"Answer me!"

The boy was practically cowering now. His quivering hands were half-raised in front of his face. Almost in some sort of pitiful, futile attempt to somehow shield himself from the ruthless castigation of his master.

"M-Master, please--!" his meek voice only barely managed to choke out in a pathetic excuse for a plea.

"I-- I-I don't... I only wanted t-to--"

"Be silent!" Shouted Vrudun, fed up with Rhys's inability to formulate just a single sentence. It served no purpose other than to simply frustrate him further. He turned his back to his Padawan, gripped tightly the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes as he breathed deeply, releasing an ever audible rush of flow from his lungs. For nearly a minute, the Zabrak remained still and quiet, considering the repercussions of what could happen depending on what Rhys learned of. He was so full of anger, he could hardly speak as he declined to turn back around when he once more formulated a question for the Miraluka.

"What did you see, Rhys? While you were so bent on probing my mind for an answer, what answer did you find?" His questions rolled from his mouth, though not dripping with venom like the words he had thrown as Rhys earlier. These were much clearer and much calmer, the contempt remaining near the same.

His attempt at restraint, though mediocre at best, was thankfully enough to reinvigorate the Padawan somewhat. Or, at least enough to stop the pitiful cowering.

"I-- I f-felt your pain, Master..." Rhys stammered. He steeled himself just enough to explain, but his voice still trembled. Carrying with it that hissing tone of one still on the verge of breaking down. "Your anguish. It-- It was...of the likes I had never seen before... Even after you told me what became of Beli; Even after you had gotten it off your shoulders, I... I could feel no relief... It hemorrhages from you even as I speak, Master!"

The young Padawan was still unable to bring himself even to bear his face to him. Rhys' voice grew quiet. "I only wanted to understand... To perhaps give c-comfort or counsel of my own..."

He swallowed hard in his bitter realization.

"She was with child this entire time..."

Silence enveloped the two, the distant sounds of speeders or an advertisement playing it's usually song and dance over and over again perhaps filling a bit of the void. Vrudun's head hung low as his worst fears came to pass as Rhys explained what he knew and it was enough to incriminate the Zabrak. The silence between them had felt like it lasted lifetimes as Vrudun sighed, removing his hand from the bridge of his nose.

"Yes..." Vrudun couldn't help but release the tension behind his words after the situation had come to it's head.

"And it's mine. But you knew that already, as well. You've seen it all, Rhys...." Vrudun took a long pause between his words.

"I.. I fell in love with Beli. She saved my life. Healed me when otherwise I would have died aboard that shuttle on Kijimi. She left her home with me to Odessen because she wanted to see me safe and was sympathetic to the cause of our Order. During that three months, Rhys, I became attached to her as she did me." Vrudun turned to Rhys, still standing away from him.

"And from that love and attachment came a child. That was why I left the compound and went to the Vigil. It was because she wanted to tell me. And because I loved her so, I wanted to send her away. Because we live in dangerous times, Padawan. When the Empire finds us, and it will find us, I didn't want to lose her or our child. So she left..."

The silence would soon return. And try as he might, the Padawan still struggled to process the immense load of news that fell upon his shoulders. It was so much at once, to have been revealed after the terrible, months-long ordeals they had already been through. Now it seemed like once again, his world had been turned on its head.

"I...I do not know what to say..." Rhys mumbled. "What to...think..."

His brow contorted, somewhat caving to his own frustration that lingered within.

"I should not have even pressed the matter," he said abruptly. "It was not my place... And now I had..."

Rhys hung his head again in shame and defeat, the Miraluka's blind gaze "staring" into the ground. He sucked in a lungful of air, letting it out in a single long exhalation. "I'd only managed to make it all worse. Again..." he hissed through gritted teeth and shaky breaths.

"I-I'm...s-sorry, Master..."

Vrudun sighed heavily as he took in his Padawan's regretful nature at discovering such a sensitive topic. The more he processed it over in his mind, the more he was beginning to see just how wrong his own reaction was. To yell and shout like this to his own Padawan. To become so frustrated and angry but to be so terribly frightened, scared to face the consequences of his own actions from those around him. Fellow Jedi, members of the lifestyle he was given. Was he afraid of Master Shan finding out or to be ridiculed? No matter the answer, one issue was certain. He was feeding into his own emotions, beginning the self doubt. The ugly beast rising it's head without Vrudun's own knowledge. Harnessing the emotions within himself. Breaking his Code, embracing anger, fear, all to bear upon his apprentice. The one that looked up to him for guidance, direction. His Master, the instrument to his own ascension to Jedi Knight. Corrupted by the very forces that constantly worked against them. This beast had been known as attachment and Vrudun swam within it's calm waves.

"I...."

"This isn't your fault, Rhys." He stated, regrouping his thoughts as he became swept up into a typhoon of emotions.

"It's mine. Perhaps you....did the right thing. Perhaps these are the consequences for my failures as a Jedi. As a teacher. I allowed my anger to cloud my judgement, Rhys. The way I snapped at you just then. It was....unbecoming of me. I'm the one who should be sorry, Padawan." Said Vrudun, his tone beginning to change as his own self-awareness was becoming more clear.

Rhys fought to maintain his already pitiful composure, finding himself burying his face once more in his palms. His head throbbed, mind awash with...more than he could even handle at the moment.

"I--" he swallowed again.

"I...need some time to think..."

[Just-An-Illusion]

Naza's Introduction: Part 2

Naza had finally made it outside of the city walls and into a woodland area, where a squad of Clone Troopers were right behind her trying to blast the young Mirialan Jedi Knight. As Naza continued to run a few blaster blots would whiz right pass her and would occasionally stop to deflect the blots back towards the advancing Clone squad. Usually in the heat of a battle, Naza would try to keep focus and survive, but with the death of her master still fresh in her mind it was difficult for her to focus. Naza would combine both her Force speed and jump, moving from tree to tree in hopes that the squad of clones would lose sight of her, but that doesn't seem to work as well. The Jedi Knight would eventually reach a dead end when she sees a cliff up ahead forcing her to stop and look down. A fog covered what looked like a bottomless pit of nothing, before Naza could even react or plan her next move a thermal detonator rolled over by her feet before exploding and sending the Mirialan down into the foggy bottom before everything went dark.

A Few Hours Later

Naza would regain conscience and find herself laying down in some type of medical bed in a brightly lit room. The Mirialan felt dazed and confused, as she took a look around at her surroundings trying to figure out where she was. Could it be possible that she was caught by the troops? No, it couldn't be possible because the Clones wanted her dead there would be no reason for them to take her prisoner. Naza would try to sit up before a sharp pain around her abdomen forcing her to stay down. The Mirialan would notice a white bandage wrapped around it, from the looks of it she could see half a scar.

Naza would soon hear footsteps and a voice walking towards her.

"Well look who's finally awake." A human man said as he looked down at the wounded Jedi Knight with a smirk on his face.

"Who are you and where am I?" Naza asked.

"Name's Thell Vudunner, part time smuggler and part time adventurer. You're lucky that I found your unconscious body floating in a lake next to my ship. You were in pretty bad condition when I found you, so I brought you here onto the Nova-Runner to patch you up back to health." Thell explained.

"I must admit though it's strange for a Jedi to be in this shape, I thought you guys were strong or something."

"It's hard to explain... One minute me and my master was leading a ground attack and then the next our own clones betrayed us." Naza said as she slowly tried to sit up wincing as the pain kicked in before finally being to sit up on her as her eyes were now leveled with Thell's eyes.

"Hold up, you said that the Clones betrayed you?" Thell asked confused.

"I have no idea... Me and my master were just talking and then they just fired upon. I-I was the only one to escape while my master was gunned down like an animal..." Naza said her voice shaking as tears formed in her eyes as Thell looked at the Mirialan with sympathy in his eyes.

"It's alright you don't have to explain anything to me... I know how it feels to lose someone close. But that's for another time, you should get dressed I have some extra clothes on that table over there and I have your lightsaber in my cockpit." Thell said.

"Why do you have it there?" Naza asked raising an eyebrow as her tears began to dry up.

"Well, I was planning on selling it just in case you didn't survive your injuries... But I had a feeling you'll survive, so I just kept it with me until you woke up." Thell said with a smile before walking out of the room.

"Thanks, I guess?" Naza said to herself as Thell left the room.

The Mirialan soon got out of her bed and started to put on the extra clothes that Thell had provided her, Naza felt uncomfortable wearing clothes that weren't Jedi robes but considering recent events it was best to remain hidden just in case. Naza soon joined Thell in the cockpit in which she noticed they were currently in hyperspace. The smuggler seeing that she was up and about handed her lightsaber before going back to pilot his ship. Naza took her lightsaber before sitting down in the co-pilot seat as she watched the blue vortex surround the ship.

"Where are we headed?" Naza asked.

"Mek-Sha, while it's a dangerous place to live it is also a great place to lay low. Plus, I have a shop there and I need to sell some stuff I found on Briga. Once we get there you might need to wear a hood to conceal your lightsaber, most people on Mek-Sha will kill to get their hands on a lightsaber to earn some credits." Thell explained.

"So, what stopped you from leaving me dead in that lake and taking my lightsaber yourself?" Naza asked with a smirk.

"Hey just because I'm a smuggler doesn't mean I don't have any morals; I like to help people if they're in need of it. I'm not like other smugglers ya know?" Thell said smiling as the ship finally came out of hyperspace in which Mek-Sha was finally in view.

Guess it's time to start a whole new life until I can find any more surviving Jedi... Naza thought to herself.

Three Months Later

For the last three months, Naza has stayed on Mek-Sha until the Jedi Council sent out some kind of signal. But to her dismay it never came and the young Mirialan Jedi was forced to remain on a station filled with criminals. Naza still wore the smuggler outfit that Thell first gave to her as well as a black hood that helped conceal her lightsaber, so she wouldn't attract unwanted attention. During those three months at this station, Naza would help Thell run his small business while he was out exploring looking for more things to sell. In Naza's mind she believed she was returning the favor to the smuggler for saving her life and was quite happy with this simple life. Though of course the death of her master still haunts her in her dreams, her screams replaying in the Mirialan's mind repeatedly. Naza knew that her master wouldn't want to see her apprentice in this sorry state and tries to keep it bottled up until the Jedi Order can rise again.

But as three months passed, Naza was slowly losing hope. She fears that she is the last of the Jedi and that she had failed not only them, but her master as well. Until recently, Naza started to sense something in the station could it be that there are other Jedi that have survived or was this just a trick to lure her out into the open? The former Jedi Knight decided to play it safe and stay at Thell's shop, until the time was right.

[Flarbinia]

In Orbit Over Tiamat
"Men, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I will not be executed or worse, stuck behind a desk on some backwater for the rest of my career. The bad news is that I've been demoted and being reassigned to Telos as punishment. While my command of the 797th was a temporary one, I did not expect it to end like this. This was my last battle as your leader and I failed you and the Empire. I failed to prevent the escape of San Rend, losing my ship out of a foolish desire to return the 797th to its former glory. I just hope that your new commander won't be that idiot Brutus. His impatience alerted the Seps to the presence of Imperial Special Forces and nearly resulted in the failure of his classified mission. It's a miracle the reckless fool has any troops left under his command, let alone being trusted with carrying out such important missions." Decimus said to the 797th, the Clones saluting him as he boarded a shuttle that would take him to his new post.

[Brusia]

The Blue Harvest

Mek-Sha

Xin Endoni
Solaria Tane
Afon Ekker
Martius Shan
Vrudun Tumara
Nardrashtasch
Rhys Aatahl

The familiar beep and chime of the Last Resort's response to an executive order to unlock and open the ramp caught the Admiral off-guard, forcing her to flinch and pull back from her initial defense near the ramp, realizing that, somehow, this intruder or intruders managed to hack the ship's central mainframe and open the door. How they did that was beyond her as she quickly backtracked to the doorframe that led into the Passenger Lounge, pushing her left shoulder into the door, continuing to aim her blaster pistol right at the entrance. She raised her comlink, reaching once more into contact with Afon Ekkers. "Afon, whoever they are, they just gained access to the ship's ramp. I can't control it and they're coming aboard. I'll hold them off for as long as I can." She said before allowing the comlink to fall to the ground, placing both of her hands around the blaster to stabilize it and provide better recoil control as the ramp touched down to the ground, releasing a hissing sound as the hydraulic's relaxed and locks engaged. For a moment, there was silence as her hands began to shake, the adrenaline beginning to pulse through Solaria's constricted veins.

"I don't mean you harm....whoever you are." The voice seemed to indicate as much but the Admiral would refuse to drop her guard.

"Yeah, you just broke into my ship after I told you to piss off, you may not sound like you want to cause me harm but your actions sure tell me otherwise. Now I've already told my boys about you and they're hightailing it back from Customs. They'll be here in thirty seconds! If you mean what you say, you'll turn around and head back to where you came from!" Tane said. As she simply couldn't tell this intruder that there was a full fledged Jedi Knight coming to her, she'd hope that the bluff would be sufficient to scare her away.

Anger and confusion is what Xin felt emanating from her opponent. It was understandable, she’d be upset too if someone broke into her ship with such ease. Her mind still wasn’t clear enough to determine where exactly it was coming from, even now her exercise to calm herself moments ago was beginning to wane.

The announcement that others were coming was something Xin partially expected. However the question still remained of how many, and what. For a moment, she contemplated turning her attention to the dock’s entrance and waiting, but she had the feeling that doing that would both waste her time, and ruin her chances of finding out why this ship was so important.

Xin took a step on to the ramp, the sound of boot on metal clanging across the docking platform and the inside of the ship. “I can assure you, had I meant harm my actions would have been decisively more fatal to you than simply pressing a few buttons.”

It was a partial bluff, Xin had a decidedly foreign degree of knowledge among the order regarding using the force in fatal ways. Could she do it with her lack of energy and mental state? Probably not.

More footfalls, as the tall woman crested the ramp, head and torso now in view of the woman inside the ship. Said woman who was wearing a few articles of clothing from the Republic Navy. Said woman was also aiming the Republic’s standard sidearm squarely at her.

A new wave of unhinged terror washed over Xin at that moment as her eyes widened, not because of the blaster, nor the uniform, but because of the reeling understanding of who the woman’s approaching friends were: Clones.

The sounds of boots coming up the ramp had visibly upset Solaria. Who the hell is this? She said to herself as she tightened her grip on her blaster. The woman's tattered appearance further confused her as something akin to a vivid nervousness fell upon her. She knew of who and what was coming, yet she persisted. She somehow assumed command of the vessel and gained entry, almost as easy as pressing the button herself. Regardless of when Afon would arrive, it would be her duty to hold the ship for as long as she could. As she didn't see any weapon of sorts. Admiral Tane would take her shot. Without a word, Solaria squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt of energy slinging out from the pistol.

Time slowed, Xin watched as fingers on the blister tense, a flash of blue glowing in the barrel as it began to lunge forth.

On her own form, metal met metal, the nigh invulnerable hand meeting a saber that was more of a risk to the user than it’s target. Under normal circumstances, Xin could’ve dodged the blast, but she wasn’t here to play nice anymore. She was staring down the enemy, one of the many who had killed her padawan and butchered her peers. For all Xin knew she was the last Jedi, and that alone caused enough anger and grief to well up inside her, that her only desire was to repay the debt The Republic had in blood and bodies.

The sound of a small scale rocket engine igniting resounded off the walls, through Xin’s teeth, and through the ship, as a fiery blue blade ignited, cutting through a nearby railing on it’s path to intercept the bolt. Contact provided an audible roar like that of igniting a puddle of petrol, and the blue bolt was deflected in to a wall to Xin’s left with a shower of sparks. Causing a few overhead lights to go out.

The giant woman’s brows furrowed as her mouth split into a bare toothed grimace covered only by a small piece of cloth. An inhuman warcry fueled by the internalized anguish and fear of three month reverberated off the walls, as the vengeful Jedi charged across the room and took a rage fueled swing at the Admiral.

Admiral Tane's eyes went wide with fear and terror as that familiar glowing blue gleaned in her eyes as it came down upon her. With little time to escape, Tane tried to turn and run, realizing at this moment what she was now facing against. Was this a Jedi? One on the run and looking for help? Or was it simply someone who stole a lightsaber, going around robbing ships with it, sending terror down her victims. Even still, to deflect a bolt took serious skill, skill that even the best duelist couldn't achieve without luck or the Force. Perhaps she'd just been lucky, perhaps not. Regardless of what it was, She could feel the blade run across her back, singing the flesh as it passed from right shoulder to left hip. The pain caused Solaria to yelp and shriek in pain as she fell to the floor, the blaster pistol jarring itself out of her hand upon impact with the cold hard floor. She gasped in utter pain and terror as she gasped for air, her fight response now actively pacified by her effort to stay alive, crawling across the floor, trying desperately to reach the cockpit or even just the Crew Lounge, where she could close and lock the door. "No...." Tane managed to eek out from her aching body as she felt her back become numb, the pain receptors across her back utterly burned away.

Xin approached the down, mewling woman as she crawled away. Xin’s boot met Tane’s side, in a move to roll her over that didn’t hide any of the malice behind it. As the admiral rolled, Xin pressed her right foot on to Tane’s chest.

Looking down, the giantess reversed her grip on her saber and raised it, bladed facing down in a classic attempt to impale the individual. Yet something in the back of her mind told her not to, and yet another voice told her to make it worse. Make them suffer as Xin had suffered, as Bafwiln had suffered.

Her organic hand went outstretched, seizing the woman by her rib cage and hauling her up with the Force. Pressure was applied to the woman’s midsection, as Xin’s eyes began to water. Xin didn’t say a word as her gaze locked with Tane’s, a soulless pit fueled by anger and hate against an enemy that wasn’t even there.

Solaria, in a state of utter shock and frozen with fear, groaned loudly as she felt as if her ribs would break under the immense pressure. The Admiral gasped for air as her chest failed to expand to allow air in as her hands began to shake. Tane's eyes met with Xin's and she could see the anger and hate within them. She desperately wanted to scream out how she was an ally to the Jedi, how she remained with them at their Temple for three months, helping them survive. She wanted to tell them that Afon was coming and that she could explain all of this to him, but she couldn't even breathe, much less speak. Her body was on fire as tears began to form in her own eyes from the immense pain and the choking feeling in her throat as she felt as if her eyes were turning bloodshot from the lack of oxygen.

"J-......Je-..." was all she could mutter out as her body began to lightly convulse, panicking as she choked for air.

The woman was wiggling like a worm plucked straight from the ground. An infinitesimally worthless being that was hardly worth Xin’s time. She should just crumple her rib cage like a soda can and be done with it. Do that find out what was so important about this ship.

And then she started arguing with herself mentally, debating whether it was worth it to keep this up, whether or not it was a good idea with the clones coming. One way or another she’d be surrounded by bodies, so why bother? Maybe it would be better to wait until the clones came in, so they could witness the officer into a pulp strewn mass. It’d cause them a misstep most likely, make it easier for Xin to butcher them like the animals they were.

Choked out words caught Xin’s attention, her vision was growing blurry from the tears, “What? Jedi? You trying to give out a vain fucking warning to the murderers you bring with you? Well guess what? We can wait until your fucking peons get here, I’ll kill them just like they butchered my fucking family, just like I’m gonna do to you. You bitch!” The sound of cracking ribs was now evident.

Admiral Tane could speak no words nor fight against it as she squealed a last bit of noise out just as her vision began fading, hearing her own ribs beginning to give way from the crushing move.

"Solaria!" A guttural scream emerged from Afon Ekkers' throat as he ran up the ramp to see the Admiral floating in mid-air, an unknown target standing below holding her up with the Force. Initially, the Knight was confused but very quickly focused his mind. With his right hand, he took up hold of his hilt and with his left, reached out and attempted to use the Force to pull the enemy away from Solaria and towards him, just as he ignited his lightsaber, producing a bright green blade.

A scream of concern behind her, Xin wheeled about as the feeling of being yanked at by The Force registered in the forefront of her mind. She moved maybe a few inches as she herself resisted. Her already fragile stamina, and lack of focus caused this to drop Tane a good foot and a half on to the deck, as Xin was forced to divert her attention to the assailant.

As she viewed the man, a number of things raced through her mind, namely that a clone hadn’t arrived on scene, as evident by the lightsaber, lack of armor, and application of The Force. The fog of fear and anger was replaced by a different kind of fear.

Her face softened almost instantly as her body caught up with her brain, her head whipped around back to the Admiral, and she made a half step to move over and make sure she was okay. But she stopped dead, before once again looking at the newly arrived Jedi, her lightsaber deactivated, the emitter now a glowing cherry red, and the leather wrap starting to bubble, her robotic hand was starting to develop the matting of heated metal.

She spoke in a voice that was evidently seconds away from bursting into sobs, “I-I didn’t. I didn’t know! She was wearing the uniform, and I… I... Oh Gods!” Her organic hand went up to her head as her legs gave out.

Despite the failing of his own connection to the Force to produce any viable results from his unfocused pull, he marched forward, his green blade still ignited, pointing directly at Xin. "Get back! Now!" Screamed Afon, refusing to turn his back to her as he approached Admiral Tane, who appeared limp and lifeless. "Solia....Solia, you're okay, now....you're okay...." Said Afon as he looked down.

What he'd failed to see prior to this woman's breaking of her levitation of Solaria was the large slash across her back, singed and blackened flesh ripped through her black neoprene shirt and traveling down her back. Afon looked in horror as she was now lifeless, her face laid straight upon the floor, without movement.

The Knight's eyes panned back up to this new target, one that had possibly killed the one person who'd been with him from the beginning. One he trusted deeply, one he cared for. His eyes burned with a fire unlike any he'd felt before as his grip upon his hilt had grown so fierce that the blade shook within his hand. He wanted nothing more than to plunge his blade deep into this woman's head. To strike her over and over again until she was nothing more than bits of flesh. He wanted to kill her, mercilessly as the hate filled his eyes and his mind. He stood there for a moment, contemplating how easy it'd be as he watched this woman crumble. He didn't care about the lightsaber in her hand nor the possibility of her being another Jedi. He only felt anger and hatred. It was so strong and fierce that he even took a step towards her, his mind set upon ending her life.

From behind him, he heard a pained gasp. Solaria's lungs wheezed as she took an excruciating breath into her broken body. And with that sound, Afon too gasped. His eyes widening as he felt that anger wash away, turning his head to see Solaria's head moving slowly. "Solia!" Shouted Afon, moving back to her and kneeling. "By the Force...." He whispered as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his comlink. "Master Shan.....Master Shan, you need to get to the Last Resort.....something's happened..."

Xin rather limply complied with the order to move away, less for her own sake and more for… well she didn’t know what. Her mind was still reeling from what she had just done. Her entire body felt cold, electrified… dirty.

She didn’t much stop moving away until she had all but jammed herself into a corner, oblivious to the other Knight’s start towards her, barely capable of registering the anger wafting off of him. Her eyes locking with his as he made the singular step. Before tearing her eyes away as she heard the ragged breath from the injured woman. A part of Xin was glad she was alive… but the pain she had caused...

If it wasn’t for the fact that she registered the name of the man the Knight was radioing, she would’ve stood and ran, left for Tatooine to enact her plan of living as a hermit, but Master Shan was a known name.

Somewhere along the line of her pulling herself into a ball in the corner, her organic hand had snaked the only keepsake from Bafwiln -the collection of beads given to hairless padawans as a braid- in to its grasp.

After dismissing the Jedi in his charge, Martius watched the group disperse and wandered around the Blue Harvest facility for a short while before finding a small, secluded, nearly empty room that looked to serve as a makeshift meditation chamber and decided to make use of it. There was much to meditate on, and with all their futures still very much in question, he knew he would need the guidance of the Force now more than ever. Kneeling in the center of the room, Martius closed his eyes and entered a meditative state, though after what felt like only a few moments his concentration was broken by the chirping of his comm-link as Afon’s call reached him.

From the tone of Afon’s voice it was clear whatever “something” he was referring to was urgent, so Martius responded only with a brief: “On my way!” and set off at a run towards the Last Resort. When he arrived to find the ship’s door wide open, he reached a hand into his satchel and grabbed the hilt of his lightsaber before cautiously making his way up the ramp. Once inside, the various scorch marks, inoperative lights, and melted metal in the corridor leading to the passenger lounge made it clear there had been a fight. As continued through the ship, he began to sense strong emotions emanating from within: feelings of anger, of remorse, and of great pain.

When he made it to the passenger lounge he saw Afon kneeling over a clearly badly wounded Admiral Tane, with a very large unfamiliar woman curled up in a corner of the room. To say he had questions would be an understatement, but for now Martius’ priority was helping Solia so he quickly made his way over to the injured officer and knelt down beside her, opposite to Afon. Reaching into his satchel he grabbed a bacta injector, and proceeded to inject its contents into the side of Solia’s neck saying: “Hold on Admiral, this should get you feeling better.” It was clear from even a cursory look at her wounds that Solia would need considerably more care to recover, but for now at least the bacta would hopefully stabilize her. As her breathing started to become more regular, Martius looked over to Afon and asked: “What happened here?”

Admiral Tane, who once was partially awake after stirring some to alert Afon that she was alive, albeit barely, closed her eyes shut at the feeling of bacta running through her. Her charred back mixed with the inability to breathe properly through broken ribs and ripped muscles would not allow her to speak nor remain conscious for long. She would fall into deep slumber.

Afon, glancing up to Martius from Solia, nodded up towards the figure in the corner. "Her, Master." Afon said as he rose from Solia, his lightsaber still ignited, pointing it's emerald blade directly at her.

"I stayed in communication with Solia the entire time. Whoever this person is broke into the ship. How she did such is beyond me, but she did. By the time I came up the ramp, this woman had Solia in the air. The pure look of terror and pain in Solia's face, Master....it was....sobering, to say the least. When she saw me, she immediately broke her assault and cowered into this corner. I rushed over to Solia and immediately informed you, Master." Despite the presence of Master Shan, informally their Grand Master, Afon couldn't help but feel anger pooling into him once more at the sight of the cowering mess below.

As the bacta began to take effect, Martius was grateful it allowed Solia to slip into unconsciousness; for the moment at least it would spare her the pain of her injuries. As Afon raised his blade to indicate the Admiral’s assailant and detailed what had happened Martius listened closely. When he finished, Martius could sense the anger that began to emanate from the Knight, and in the hopes of calming him down, reached over and put a hand on his shoulder saying: “You did well Afon, thanks to you Admiral Tane is going to be alright.” Figuring it would be best to separate him from the cause of his anger for the time being, Martius stated: “We should still have some bandages in the medbay; why don’t you grab them and tend to the Admiral’s wounds. I’ll have a word with our uninvited guest.”

Leaving Afon to do as he asked, Martius slowly made his way to the corner where the evident assailant was still curled in a ball, keeping his hands up slightly and visible so as not to alarm her. She was clearly Force sensitive, that much he could sense, in addition to her strong feelings of remorse. They seemed to be genuine, but the Master remained cautious and kept a safe distance all the same; after Odessen he couldn’t take the chance that this might be an Inquisitor attempting to lure him, or other Jedi, into a trap. All the same, in the event she was not there to kill them, he spoke in a calm and quiet voice and stated: “My name is Martius Shan, I’m the owner of this vessel. My colleague believes you are responsible for the attack on our friend, but I’d like to hear your side of the story. Can you tell me who you are and explain to me what happened here?”

Despite Martius’ solid attempt at keeping the intruder calm, she still jumped at his voice, her hands tightening around the padawan brain dangling from her organic hand, and damaged lightsaber in her metallic one. Her pupils became pinpricks as her gaze darted upwards towards Martius’ own.having been lost in thought, Xin had very nearly gone in to fight or flight before her consciousness caught up with her reptile brain. She relaxed, after she processed what Martius had said.

“Xin. Xin Endoni. And your companion isn’t wrong.” she paused, likely thinking of how to explain what she did, “I… The Force, I assume, is what lead me to your ship. A gut feeling for close to a few days now to come here instead of Tatooine or some other forgotten world. I didn’t get why I was being lead here until now. I knocked on the ramp, the woman, Solaria, you said her name is, responded that I wasn’t welcome.” a pause, “I… I haven’t been thinking clearly for… a while. And in my infinite wisdom, I opened the door, and entered the ship despite the clear protest.”

The woman’s gaze locked on to the few drops of blood on the deck, a result of Solaria’s likely pulverized ribcage, “I saw someone wearing a Republic uniform, and I lost control again.” Her hand tightened around the brain in her grasp. “Were it not for him, the -I assume former- officer would be dead. I’m sorry.”

Martius listened without interruption as Xin explained what had happened. As he watched her and listened to what she had to say, he didn’t get the feeling that she was attempting to deceive him and didn’t sense the dark side presence he would expect from an Inquisitor. That said, hers was a name he recognized: Xin Endoni had been the subject of much discussion during the Clone Wars due to her advocating the use of powers that had long been associated with the dark side, and the brutality of her attack on the Admiral did beg the question if she had decided to tap into those powers since the fall of the Order. Still, even if that were the case, that made it all the more important to help her now, lest she fall to the dark side entirely.

Once she had finished, Martius nodded and replied: “I see, thank you for your honesty Xin. Fortunately you didn’t strike a fatal blow, so Solia will recover from her injuries in time. That being said, I believe your actions warrant further discussion, but not right now.” Between her obvious anguish and decidedly haggard appearance, it was clear that the last thing Xin needed at the moment was a lecture, so Martius continued: “Right now I think you need a warm meal, a good night’s rest, and to be back in the company of your fellow Jedi.” Extending a hand towards Xin to help her up, Martius concluded: “And if you wouldn’t mind, we could use your help tending to Solia’s wounds and getting her back to safety.”

Doing as he was told by the Jedi Master, Afon deactivated his lightsaber, turning and nodding his head to Master Shan and departed for the medbay of the Last Resort. During the relatively short trip to retrieve an abundance of various bandages from different lockers and storage cabinets within the small medical bay, the older Jedi Knight replayed the scene over and over again in his head. The look of horror and pain in Admiral Tane's face as she levitated helplessly in front of this unknown, force sensitive woman carrying a blue blade. What was her purpose there? Seeing as how she'd broken into the ship, was her intent to kill? How could she have known what kind of person she'd find aboard? And could she have known prior that this person was a former Republic Navy Admiral? So many questions, not enough answers, and a barely holding on Solia laying upon the cold hard ground of the vessel. Exiting the med bay with an assortment of medications and bandages, Afon approached the wounded and asleep Solia. Carefully and slowly, he injected her with an assortment of antibiotics for the wound across her back and an immunobooster to assist her body in preventing infection from both of her wounds.

Afon's eyes continued panning over to Xin. He felt no ill will nor malice towards her, albeit some distrust and caution. He was keeping himself prepared for the moment she would try to turn on Master Shan. He'd already decided that despite the willingness of his Order to spare life when able, he would take it quickly should she flip sides like the toss of a coin.

Xin, somewhat carefully took the man’s hand in her own, and let the man help her. It was more a sign of good faith than anything, and Xin put more effort into it than the man did. Xin didn’t want the Master to embarrass himself trying to haul her up earnestly, seeing as pulling someone up who had two feet and likely a hundred pounds on you was… difficult.

“I can go another few days without food… And I doubt I’ll sleep soundly anytime soon. What I need is… Is time to think.” a pause, “I don’t know how much help I’ll be with first aid. All I know is how to deal with burns, limb breaks, and amputations… but only if bacta isn’t involved.” she cast her gaze towards the med bay, catching a glance from Afon, “I don’t know anything about dealing with internal injuries or fractured ribs.”

"Master Shan, the best outcome for Solia is to get her to the compound, to Rhys. I witnessed him heal a saber wound through Master Nardrashtasch's chest. If anyone can heal her, it's the Padawan. I trust in his abilities and despite his position as a learner, he's quite skilled in the art. I'm afraid attempting to apply these bandages may further injure her."

After Xin's underwhelming response to Master Shan's request for assistance, Afon's eyes remained glued to her. "And with all due respect, I believe she's done enough, Master."

While Afon ministered to Xin’s wounds, Xin took Martius’ hand, though elected to lift herself off the floor. While it would have been a simple matter to assist her up with Enhance Strength or Telekinesis, he appreciated her thoughtfulness in trying to assist him. Martius listened again as Xin replied, though before he could give a response, Afon voiced his concerns along with a less than subtle verbal jab at Solia’s assailant.

“Indeed" Martius replied "Getting the Admiral to Padawan Rhys is our priority, but it is essential we stabilize her for the journey. While the bandages may further injure Solia in their current state, applying some cold water mixed with a little bacta will help cool the burns to minimize the zone of injury and help reduce her fluid loss; a little trick I picked up from one of my Clone medics. Given her extensive rib fractures, we’ll then need two people to carefully get her to the speeder on a stretcher while the third uses the Force to hold her rib fragments in place to prevent them from puncturing a lung during transport, and given the height discrepancy, Xin is best positioned for that responsibility while we carry her out.”

Suspecting Afon would be less than keen about that idea, Martius looked to the Knight and continued: “I know you must have reservations, and I understand that, but I believe we all deserve a chance to correct our mistakes, even our most terrible ones, and frankly it’s our best shot of getting Solia back to Rhys without further serious injury…” Looking back to Xin, he continued: “I know you’re not experienced in dealing with rib fractures, but I can guide you through what to do if you’re willing to try.”

Xin earnestly had to agree with Afon, despite the very cold shoulder. Telekinesis was taxing normally. While malnourished and dehydrated, it was a miracle -or rather the dark side- that had prevented Xin from collapsing from exhaustion while attacking the former admiral.

When Master Shan asked of her what he did, Xin simply looked at him with a visage of confusion, mostly masked by the rags she had yet to remove from her head.

Her gaze went to the admiral’s motionless form, and she pictured a rib cage intact in the back of her mind as her hand hovered over the woman. There was a slight sound of some bone fragments shifting together, the woman’s chest began rising and falling more uniform than before.

“I hope this compound of yours is close.”

As Xin reached out with the Force to hold together Solia’s fractured ribs, Martius laid a hand on her chest wall and closed his eyes to ensure all the fragments that posed an immediate danger were being held in place. Satisfied they were, he looked to Xin and stated: “Excellent work” before informing her: “It’s not exactly close, but it won’t take us long to get there by speeder.”

With the Admiral’s ribs stabilized, he turned her on her side and quickly dressed the wound on her back with the wetted bandages and slid the stretcher underneath her before laying her back down supine. Looking up to see that Xin was clearly exhausted, he then stated: “You’re doing well Xin, not much longer now. Just maintain your focus and we’ll get her back safe.” As he uttered the word “focus” he himself focused on Xin, and in the span of a moment utilized Revitalize to lend her enough strength to keep going; just as he had previously done for his Padawan and a number of soldiers under his command during the war whenever they needed it most.

Reaching down to grab the front of the stretcher, he looked back to Afon and once his fellow Jedi had taken hold of the other end of the stretcher, lifted their wounded comrade up and began the journey back towards the Blue Harvest compound…

It was indeed a short trip back to the compound, though it felt like an eternity as the group moved with great care not to exacerbate the Admiral's wounds. Once they made it to their destination, they entered the compound and Martius informed one of the guards: "We have wounded here in dire need of treatment, go get Padawan Rhys, the Miraluka who accompanied us, at once!"

Vrudun Tumara, returning from the rooftop after his brief and uncomfortable conversation with Rhys, moved through the main chamber just as Master Shan entered, he and Afon accompanying a wounded Solaria Tane, accompanied by an unfamiliar person, her hands wading over the Admiral. Initially, confusion enveloped the zabrak as his face turned to utter surprise. Despite all of the questions that raced through his mind that he wished to ask, he instead returned his focus to the most immediate problem. Quickly, Vrudun nodded, turned and raced back towards the rooftop. Upon his relatively instant flight back to the sitting and thinking Padawan. "Apprentice, I understand you need time to think after our talk, but we have no time. The Admiral appears severely wounded. We need you."

The shouts of Martius Shan were loud enough to be heard by Master Nardrashtasch just beyond the main chamber. Since his talk with Tuka Tisrygian, Master Nard chose to wait for Martius to return and meditate on what he saw, felt and heard. The revelation that his own Padawan was possessed by some sort of Dark Side spirit haunted him even in his relatively peaceful trance of deep meditation, but the sight of the Jedi returning with Solaria Tane shocked him worse. He quickly rose from his crossed position and walked to Master Shan.

"What's happened, Master? What happened to the Admiral?" Nard said, his eyes gazing over to this new person who was indeed force sensitive.

Xin well and truly was thankful for the Martius' efforts to keep her alive, but ultimately, it was as futile as trying to refill a lakebed with a bucket. Revitalise when used by a powerful force user could sustain people on the verge of death, should they be inactive. Telekinesis was a draining skill to begin with, let alone when you were malnourished, dehydrated, and sleep deprived.

At this point, most of Xin's focus was solely on staying awake and keeping Tane's ribs in place, and nothing more. She barely registered the announcement of arrival, the call for help, and the arrival of others. With her eyes closed she didn't see any of them either. But she was at her limit, at least the more acceptable limit. A few seconds passed, and she started tapping in to what would've gotten her ejected from the order should she have done so prior to the purge.

With a sheen of sweat forming, her brows furrowed, not in effort or concentration, but in rage, anger, distaste. Anything and everything she could bring up to fuel herself, she did. Dislike for the now likely council, dislike for Tane's idiotic decision to keep wearing her uniform, a deep seated seething hatred for the Clones, a dislike for the wet dog smell that was all but assaulting her nose now. The specific thoughts were guarded thanks to nothing more than her genetics, but the dark side now slowly wafting off her would become obvious to the Masters present, and the other Jedi she had yet to clue in were present after.

But Tane's ribs were still in a rock solid array, nothing was moving unless it needed to.

Thankfully though, as Vrudun came running into the chamber on his way back from the roof, the Padawan in question scrambled in just behind him.

To say the fledgling Jedi was at his wit's end would probably be an understatement. In fact, as the white-haired Miraluka darted into the room, he seemed like a nervous wreck, driven to both physical and mental exhaustion by recent events and a lack of proper rest.

Upon seeing the injured his master had spoken of, however, the Padawan found himself oddly reinvigorated somewhat. Still nervous, but filled with a newfound vigor that had previously been absent.

"Admiral-- Admiral!" Rhys hissed, scrambling to the side of the handful of both familiar and unfamiliar Jedi. At first, he seemed almost hesitant to even lay his hands upon the woman, his blindfolded features regarding them with a worried countenance.

"W-what happened...?!"

As his fellow Jedi began entering the chamber, they were naturally curious about what happened to their injured comrade. While he could understand their wanting to know what happened, he knew for the moment the more critical task was still to treat the Admiral’s injuries, so when Nard put the question forward, Martius replied: “For now, suffice it to say there was a…misunderstanding between Admiral Tane and Knight Endoni here.”

While they waited on Rhys to arrive, he gently laid the side of his head on Solia’s chest for a few seconds, starting on the left side then moving to the right, to listen for breath sounds in both lungs so as to confirm their journey didn’t result in a punctured lung. Fortunately, it appeared Xin did an excellent job of holding her rib fragments in place during transport; unfortunately, he would soon learn this came at considerable cost to Xin. As he lifted his head back up, he suddenly felt a wave of rage wash over him; which far more concerningly was followed shortly thereafter by a subtle chill that he, and undoubtedly his fellow Masters, immediately recognized as the tell-tale sign of the dark side.

His eyes darted to the origin point of the sensation and directly at Xin, whose now grim countenance reflected a mixture of seething anger and utter exhaustion that made clear she had greatly exaggerated her remaining strength when he had asked earlier, and confirmed his fear that she had done as the Council forbade and tapped into the power of the dark side. Immediately he placed a hand on Solia’s chest wall and reached in with the Force to stabilize the ribcage as Xin had been doing for fear that she would either collapse from exhaustion and let go, or give in to the darkness now within her and attempt to finish what she started. Looking over to her, he maintained a calm tone so as not to alarm her and risk her falling further into darkness and stated: “Thank you for your help Xin, we can take it from here.” Looking to Nard, suspecting his colleague was equally aware of Xin’s state, he continued: “Master Nardrashtasch, could you escort Knight Endoni to the galley and get her some food?”

Whether she needed food or sleep more he really couldn’t tell at this point and didn’t imagine she would be forthcoming either way, but he felt it best to get her out of the chamber as quickly as possible before the Knights, and Afon in particular, began to sense the dark side emanating from her. With Afon already on edge and the others confused as to what was happening, he worried that could quickly lead to yet another disaster, and they had enough disasters to deal with as it was.

When Rhys arrived and also asked what happened, Martius took it as a question to the nature of Solia’s injuries and replied: “The Admiral suffered a severe lightsaber burn along her back and numerous rib fractures, though thankfully it seems no punctured lung. Can you help her Padawan?”

Master Nardrashtasch nodded earnestly, as he had felt that familiarity all too recently. He recognized it, shuddered from it, his eyes snapping to Xin as he felt his heart began to beat harder. When he received instruction from Master Shan, he knew this was neither the time or place to question nor delay upon Martius' request. He knew what was at stake, and her remaining here any longer would be detrimental. Master Nardrashtasch quickly walked over to Xin, reaching out with his hand. "I am unsure if you speak Shyriwook, young one. But please accompany me." Nard said calmly, motioning with his hand he wanted her to follow him.

Xin’s mind was filled with nothing but the worst she could dredge up, an empty cup filled with vitriol and an unsated depression. Her mind’s eyes could only perceive that and the imaginary image of Tane’s chest cavity. She heard nothing, and in a small due amount of time, smelt nothing. There was a solid few seconds between Martius telling her she was free to go and get some rest, and Xin realizing that someone else had taken over her task.

Opening her eyes, she blinked somewhat rapidly, tears that had been accumulating breaking surface tension and trailing down her face. But for that tiny fraction of time they were visible, Master Nardrashtasch alone would see the distinct discoloration of Xin’s iris before she blinked her tears away. Her features softened as she took her hand off of Tane. Xin couldn’t tell if her shaking hand was from the exhaustion or the wave of cold that was filling every ounce of her being.

The telltale reverberations of the Wookie standing in front of her was close to a broken mess to Xin, her understanding of the Wookie’s language was barebones to say the least. So while she caught the meaning of what he said, it wasn’t a very verbose understanding.

Finding very little energy to speak, she simply wiped her tears and nodded, following the master. It was at this moment, Xin let whatever facade she had been maintaining up until this point drop. Her posture shifted, lips were no longer tensed, shoulders drooping, eyes loosening. It was evident that the woman’s sleep patterns were shattered given the now evident bags under her eyes, lips previously stretched taut enough to look somewhat smooth were now obviously chapped to nearly splitting.

As she walked, the way her knees almost buckled with every step gave a clear indication that the only thing keeping her up at this point was pride and stubbornness, or more likely given her blatant falsification of her condition earlier, she didn’t want to be more of a burden than necessary.

The Padawan had taken over for her, a hovering hand now holding the Admiral's fractured ribs in place. He could only regard Xin for a moment as she left alongside Master Nard. Though Rhys did not know nor recognize her from the many Jedi faces they had witnessed since their first arrival on Mek-Sha. A more reclusive one, perhaps? She had a peculiar aura about her, he vaguely felt. Seeming just as troubled than some of the rest. A familiar darkness, no less, that lingered deep within all that had suffered immensely over the past few months. But hers was more...twisted. Marred.

She had seen things.

"Y-yes, of course..." Swallowing hard, the young Padawan laid his other hand upon the Admiral's forehead. He sucked in a lungful of air, and breathed it out.

And though his gentle touch was initially met with a pained groan and an agonizing flinch from his patient, it took mere moments for her mewlings to grow quiet. For the pain to begin to slowly wash away in place of a cool, soothing chill. Crucitorn.

As if invigorated by a newfound drive and focus, Rhys wasted no time examining the Admiral's ribs next. It was a delicate situation that needed immediate addressing, but had thankfully been alleviated somewhat thanks to that other Jedi's effort to keep the fragments held in place during their transit. "She will need bacta for the burns," he murmured off-handedly. "Patches will suffice for now. I...I must tend to her ribs..."

Without a moment's pause, he got to work.

He maneuvered his hands and fingers as if they held the strings of a puppet, with each fine, painstaking movement eliciting a series of faint crunches and cracks from the sedated woman's ribs. The grating scrape of bone on bone, steadily shifting back into place. It was a slow and draining process for the already tired Padawan. It required almost every ounce of his focus to keep things in order. Coaxed even more sweat from his brow...

Master Nardrashtasch could feel how exhausted and worn Xin had become, which was only amplified after the amount of energy she poured into keeping Admiral Tane held together. He was becoming unsure if he should lead her to food or sleep. He quickly made his decision upon continuing to feel how unsure her footing was becoming and instead led her to the hallway containing the dorm rooms. He turned to her, motioning for her to go towards the furthest door to the right, his and his Padawan's dorm.

[Draos]

Harpori,Harpori system,Druess sector
Fein woke up with his hand reaching for his rifle,which was in it’s normal place he blinked and groaned as he stretched out. Taking a quick look around he saw the youngling in her bed and sighed in relief, this wasn’t a great life but he was doing what he could and following his orders at all costs, protect the Jedi the temple guard may have ended but his Oath had not. Shaking his head he moved to the secret room in his small hovel which held his holocom as he tried to contact the main Jedi rendezvous point through an encrypted frequency this was only his second attempt in the three months since the founding of the empire and his greatest failure , he knew trying to often would alert the empire of his location so he sent out a brief 25 second burst transmission to Mek Sha. Zal to Sha package is ready for pick up.

[Flarbinia]

A Lucrehulk dropped out of hyperspace, still bearing the scars of the Clone Wars. "Captain, sensors have detected multiple structures on one of the planets. Our sources did not mention any settlements in this system, uncharted or otherwise." A Cathar officer said to her captain, the Neimodian still dressed in the uniform of a Trade Federation officer. "It doesn't matter if there is sentient life on that planet or not. Its moons have deposits of Spice and Rend Kul will have my head if these mining operations fail to turn a profit. The fact that the planet is already inhabited is a boon, as we won't have to spend precious credits on importing slaves to such a remote system." The Neimodian said to the Cathar before turning to the chief of security, an old Whipid with half of one of his tusks missing. "Half-Tooth, tell the men to gear up and head to their transports. It is time to show the locals that they, their planet, and its moons are now under the protection of the Exchange." The Neimodian said to the Whipid, the old officer simply nodding his head before giving the order to move out.

[Flarbinia]

Several Sheathipede-class transport shuttles landed outside the outskirts of the settlement, thugs walking down the boarding ramps, each one holding a blaster. "Toll Dafrom wants this to go smoothly, so let me handle this. And no itchy trigger fingers. Our goal is to convince the mayor to cooperate with the Exchange or failing that, intimidate the locals into mining the Spice, not to turn this planet into a graveyard." A Bith said to the thugs as they stood at attention, a missing eye covered by a piece of black leather, a red sash around his waist. He then headed towards the settlement with most of the thugs in tow, several of them staying behind to guard the ships. As they approached the outskirts, they noticed that the locals were Duros. "Who are you? If you're a Separatist, you will find no refuge here." An elderly Duros with a scar on his cheek said to the Bith, causing him and his men to stop. "Talon Hel. Ex-Trade Defense Force. I lost my eye on Telos to a Jedi with a bronze hilted Lightsaber. And before you ask, I am here on important business." The Bith replied, motioning for the thugs to lower their blasters. "I am Num Zhan. Ex-Judicial. I retired before the Clone Wars." The elderly Duros said to Talon Hel as he stared at him. "Now that we've gotten introductions out of the way, can you tell us where the mayor's office is?" Talon Hel asked Num Zhan, the old Duros pointing at the tallest building in the settlement. "Thank you for your cooperation." Talon Hel said to Num Zhan before tossing him a couple credit chips and heading to the mayor's office with his men.

[Flarbinia]

Toll Dafrom entered townhall with the thugs in tow. "I have a proposition for the Mayor." Toll said to the 3PO-Series Protocol Droid manning the front desk. "Sorry, but Mayor Cuduzaan Tramdog has no meetings scheduled for today. If you want to meet with him, you can" The protocol droid said, Toll cutting her off with a blaster bolt to the face, the 3PO unit falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. "This appointment's urgent." Toll Dafrom said to the Protocol Droid as he and five of the thugs headed to the Mayor's office, the rest standing with blasters at the ready. Within an hour, they reached the door to the office, the Trandoshan pushing the button to open it. "Can I help you? I hope you're not on the run from the Empire. While we may be willing to help refugees, we have no love for the Separatists." Cuduzaan Tramdog said to Toll Dafrom and the thugs. "I am no fugitive and I burnt all bridges with the Holdouts. I have come on behalf of the Exchange, Tramdog. Harpori's moons are rich in Spice. Mining those deposits will generate millions in profit." Toll said to the Mayor as they stared each other down. "Millions in profit for the Exchange. And it's safe to assume that you need us to mine the Spice. What do we get in return?" Cuduzaan asked Toll. "You will get a slice of the profit and your colony will receive the Exchanges' protection. Consider yourself lucky that it was not the Pykes or Crimson Dawn or the Hutts who discovered that there is Spice in the Harpori System. A wayward colony like yours would be easy pickings." Toll said to the Mayor as he pulled out a handheld Holoprojector and pushed a button, the device displaying a hologram of a battle damaged Lucrehulk orbiting Harpori.

[Draos]

Fein stared at the ship he had wanted to steal but couldn't bring himself to do it. Sighing he returned to his hovel trying to think of a plan to get the padawan off the planet before the empire discovered her presence. He had lived his life despite his young age but she had not it wasn't fair for her to die so young he thought. swallowing he decided to head to the cantina to look for a smuggler.

[Flarbinia]

Chu Kernes stood in front of the door to the Last Stop with his Vibroblade in his hand, the Talz bouncer feeling the heat of the hot summer day as sunlight was reflected by his cybernetic arm. Like the Duros who made up the majority of the colony's population, he fled from a planet that had fallen to the Separatists, though unlike them, he was stuck working off an enormous debt to Fal Chaimar, the Muun who owned Harpori's only cantina. The Last Resort was the fourth largest building in the entire colony, located within walking distance of the spaceport. However, due to the colony being located in such a remote system, the spaceport is mostly used by smugglers and being smugglers, they headed straight to the local cantina to drink, gamble, and occasionally recruit, even if the cantina's walls were rusted, the barkeep was an Ortolan, and the bartender used TC-series Protocol Droids as dealers to prevent them from paying off the dealers to look the other way to cheating. "Entry fee is fifty Credits. Republic or Imperial." Chu said in his native language as the Besalisk Smuggler with four six-shot Slugthrowers in his holsters approached the Cantina, the four-armed figure handing him the credits before heading inside, thirty of them being Imperial. "Ten Republic Credits less than last time. Sooner or later, the only Republic Credits left on this rock will be some old fool's savings." Chu Kernes thought to himself as he pocketed the Credits.

[Draos]

Fein subtly stood next to the giant 4 armed being "I heard you know how to get people to places without a lot of fuss". His face and tone were the perfect representation of Duros stoicism a well known quality of his species. In a quiet monotone voice "if you are what I know you are you will meet me in 20 minutes at that booth" pointing at a particular booth he then went to a sabbac table to hide his internal disgust of these lowlifes but alast he did this for the good of the galaxy. The republic must be restored for peace and prosperity to flourish once more for all people not the coreward human aristocrats.

[Flarbinia]

"Hello, I am TC-77. The Ante is twenty Credits. Imperial or Republic, your Credits are good here." The bronze-plated TC-Series said to the patrons at the table, a Rodian, a Trandoshan, and a Gran placing their Credits on the table. "Funny seeing you at a Sabbacc Table, Fein. You usually stick to Pazaak when you're in here." Jordo Sonruda, the Dug Pit Boss of the Last Resort, said to the Duros. "He must be trying to drum up business. Not many opportunities on such a remote backwater." The Rodian said to Jordo in Huttese as he glanced at the Dug. "Fein Zal in the employ of Smugglers? I never thought that day would ever come." Jordo said before he walked to another table. "I saw you talking to Mol Daldrix. Heed my advice: always have plenty of Credits on hand in case he starts to charge extra. Deadbeats don't last long on his ship. I'll raise one hundred." The Gran said to Fein as he placed an additional one hundred chips into the pot. "Feb Kaarriam is bluffing. I'm going all in." The Rodian said as he placed off his chips into the pot. "Then I'll double. Your bluff is worse." The Trandoshan said to the Rodian in Dosh as he placed additional chips into the pot, his voice filled with confidence. "Your move." TC-77 said to Fein as everyone at the table stared at the Duros.

[Draos]

The Duro's face remained stoic as he put down an Idiot's array "looks like I win don't it?" pocketing his credits he sat down at a booth to watch "droid Durosian ale 980 vintage" he called to a server droid he smirked as he hadn't cheated but knew how to bluff the best of them. As his drink was put before him he waited for the besalisk his winnings from the table easily able to cover his and the padawan's passage to mek-sha and then some.

[Flarbinia]

Mol Daldrix sat down at the table, the GE3-series Protocol Droid that was working as a server giving him a Ruby Bliel without being asked. "I saw how you cleared out that table. Are you a Jedi? Just kiddin'. If you were a Jedi, I would have to charge you extra. Now that we've gotten the small talk out of the way, let's get down to business. You require my services. I can understand why you'd want to leave Harpori without goin' through 'official channels'. The Empire has public transportation under lock and key, and I wouldn't be surprised if you lack a Chain Code." Mol said to the Duros as he looked at him, chugged down the Ruby Bliel. "I'd advise against goin' to Tatooine. Housin' may be cheap and the scenery is nice, but actually livin' there would be a royal pain in the ass. You've got to worry about raids by the Sand People, worry about Droids bein' stolen by Jawas, worry about bein' ripped off by Jawas, worry about Jabba The Hutt sendin' his thugs to collect money if you're late in payin' the Water Tax, worry about sand gettin' everywhere. You want an idyllic life away from the eyes of the Empire, Dantooine is the best choice. Farmin' and herdin' are the largest industries on the planet, so it should be easier to make decent money off of Nerfs than it would be on this remote backwater." Mol Daldrix said to the Duros as the GE3-series Protocol Droid handed a Corellian Ale to the Besalik Smuggler.

[Draos]

Mol Daldrix sat down at the table, the GE3-series Protocol Droid that was working as a server giving him a Ruby Bliel without being asked. "I saw how you cleared out that table. Are you a Jedi? Just kiddin'. If you were a Jedi, I would have to charge you extra. Now that we've gotten the small talk out of the way, let's get down to business. You require my services. I can understand why you'd want to leave Harpori without goin' through 'official channels'. The Empire has public transportation under lock and key, and I wouldn't be surprised if you lack a Chain Code." Mol said to the Duros as he looked at him, chugged down the Ruby Bliel. "I'd advise against goin' to Tatooine. Housin' may be cheap and the scenery is nice, but actually livin' there would be a royal pain in the ass. You've got to worry about raids by the Sand People, worry about Droids bein' stolen by Jawas, worry about bein' ripped off by Jawas, worry about Jabba The Hutt sendin' his thugs to collect money if you're late in payin' the Water Tax, worry about sand gettin' everywhere. You want an idyllic life away from the eyes of the Empire, Dantooine is the best choice. Farmin' and herdin' are the largest industries on the planet, so it should be easier to make decent money off of Nerfs than it would be on this remote backwater." Mol Daldrix said to the Duros as the GE3-series Protocol Droid handed a Corellian Ale to the Besalik Smuggler.

“I already have a place in mind.” Fein told the smuggler tossing a thousand credit chip from his winnings to the four armed alien. His red eyes and permanent frowning face gave no hints for the smuggler of the trouble that he was about to get into. “We shall head to your ship and discuss the finer details there”