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Mon Calamari/Dac


Nikolai Kolchak

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Nok moved with the panicked crowd through the halls of the clinic, their alarm illuminating the way clearer than he could have seen with his eyes. But he felt clear headed, sharp, even strong. The fear...fed him. No, not fed. It galvanized him, pushed him, purged him. He’d been around fear before, and he’d channeled his own terror early on, but this was the first time he could remember being so close to so many soaked in blind, animal dread without being scared himself. The panic-charged emotions of the crowd, half convinced they were about to die, flowed through him and emptied him out, yet paradoxically surged into him and swelled him with crackling, boiling life. He could feel their fear like it was his own, but it was outside him and sharpening him instead clouding his mind, the difference between the hot blood in his veins and a cool drink of water on his tongue. The closest comparison he could make was to the first time he’d tried glitterstim, but without the heady loss of perception. It made him into his best self, focused and alive.

 

Nok breathed in the clear air as he got outside and the crowd dispersed around him. No withdrawal, no manic desire for more. A drug without drawbacks. He smiled. If there was some cosmic intelligence guiding the workings of the universe, then it clearly favored people like Nok to give him such a gift.

 

The clinic exploded, sending Nok crashing to the ground.

 

Kriffing idiot. Feel smug a safe distance away from the exploding building.

 

He got up and brushed at his ruined robes, but his mood refused to dampen. He could have sworn he’d sensed...something coming out of the clinic during the explosion. Which was strange, since without some kind of negative emotion from someone nearby he shouldn’t have been able to sense something moving so fast while he was distracted by...well, an exploding clinic. Unless the thing itself was…

 

...No, that can’t be…

 

It was. In the spreading ripples of the crowd’s panic, Nok could see the woman from before standing up from the ruins of a gurney before beating what must have been fire out of her coat. He kept his distance as she promptly stole a hospital courier speeder.

 

Kind of cold, considering I’m pretty sure you caused this, he thought as she sped off. I hope you’re not what I’m here for. You strike me as “difficult”. Though, I suppose I could have offered to let GH-7-X3 treat the burns…

 

GH-7-X3 was in the clinic.

 

A low, heavy pulse of negative emotion emanated from Nok, illuminating the wreckage and pavement in stark detail. Rage.

 

That...that droid was custom. Years of upgrades. Thousands and thousands of credits on its mind alone. Dozens of databases integrated. I rewrote the root commands myself!

 

His blood boiled as he realized the sheer amount of nerf fodder he’d have to wade through just to clean up this mess. He’d have to hire some outside agent at a premium just to comb through police evidence on the off-chance they recovered that hunk of scrap’s data drive! Jin was on record entering the place before it blew, so Meer Medical was on its way down even if they couldn’t link anything to him! And that wasn’t even getting into the mountain of credits and the months of work it would take to replace that stupid, useless thing! All because some untrained, unhinged, unstable thrill junky couldn’t keep her feelings from exploding a building!?

 

Nok should have calmed down. He should have fought to keep himself under control and rational. But he didn’t. This anger felt good. Anger had been the first emotion he’d learned to properly wield in focusing the Force, and even if it wasn’t his strongest it still felt powerful, red, and raw. There was no way Nok was kriffing leaving without what he came for. This...offering, whatever that kriffing meant!

 

Fine. Even if you're not what I’m looking for, you’re the only thing that’s even come close. And considering you nearly blew me up, I think I’ll…

 

Nok stopped that train of thought, and took a deep breath, suppressing the anger. As hollow as it made him feel, the calm, little voice in the back of his mind had finally broken through. That attitude wasn’t going to get him anything but shanked or shot in an alley. He had to be calm, rational, and controlled. Revenge was like gambling. You were a sucker to play unless you could afford to lose.

 

Remember that first lesson. She’s untrained. Find her presence in the Force.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nok walked into the warehouse, keeping his irritation at a slow-burn to let him see. There were a few others aside from the woman, and a...combat droid?

Edited by Nok Morliss
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Sara’s approach was meant to be subtle; mixed with a small army of various refugees, she was going to slip in unnoticed and wait out the local's response to her speeder-theft. There was even a small part of her that hoped they would eventually give up the search. But a good portion of the herd she was following came to an abrupt stop near the big loading door at the front of the warehouse. She couldn’t tell why from first glance due to said refugees piling in front of the warehouse door. Part of her even contemplated trying another warehouse. But when she ambled through a portion of the amassed flesh before her, she saw an individual carrying an exotic light-saber-staff-thing? 

 

He seemed to be blocking entry. She couldn’t tell whether or not he was a Mon Cal, especially from this distance. But in that flight suit he was clearly not with the planetary authorities. If said authorities came by they’d be more distracted by the saber wielder than anyone hiding in any back corners. And considering the impending consequences of her hasty actions, she wasn’t about to wait for the hammer to fall. Sara plowed her way to the front of the pack, using elbows and forearms to bar everyone from coming into direct contact with her and then waltzed through a side passage with only a rude finger-based gesture to mark her passing. She even noticed the gunner in the scaffolding; not by her body, but by the tension she felt.

 

While navigating her way to the back portion of the warehouse, she loosely picked up the confrontation between a small feminine sounding person and what she presumed to be the man from before. She couldn’t tell, nor did she care. Sara was prepared for retaliation. But she was honestly not in the mood and didn't have the strength right now to deal with it. If they were going to shoot her then they were going to shoot her. There wasn’t anything she could really do about it. 

 

At least it’d make my migraine go away. 

 

_____________________________________________

 

Sara watched through a half-lidded gaze as others came into the warehouse, evidently making it past the justifiably yet insufferably suspicious flight suit guy from before. She thought she could see a few recognizable characters, yet did not get up to greet them. The less she interacted with strangers, the better it would be to get out of here and back to space. She was getting kind of itchy not being at the yoke of the Luridae.

 

When she could feel her last eyelid close and her mind start to numb, a large lump of metal came up to bleat at her and some other figure next to her, abruptly demanding that they both follow him. Sara grunted at him non-committally in her dubious haze of fatigue. She had half a mind to reach into her coat and palm her slug-thrower in a very physical 'shove-off' gesture, though subsequently decided against it. Best not to make a scene Sara; no more than you already have anyway. Forced to acknowledge the real world, Sara cleared the groggy creases in her eyes. She finally saw Leena -- who was making her way with purpose toward the front door -- at the other end of the warehouse and realized that the ‘other figure’ receiving demands from the droid was the Nemoidian from the hospital. Small world, eh?

 

The Nemoidian got up almost immediately to follow the droid, but Sara was focused more on the little guppy. She rolled to a standing position and walked through shambling bodies to get as close to Leena as she could. When Leena's hand reached out and a teal blade emerged, Sara took a few pointed steps back toward the edge of the refugees to get to a safe distance. From here, Sara could see the man from before and what may have been the owner of that feminine voice arguing. And it seemed like Leena was helping; or trying to.

 

From the edge of the crowd, her back against the durasteel walls, she looked toward Leena, “Hey guppy, you hanging in there?” Sara asked, something akin to concern or worry hidden in the clear exhaustion of her facial expression.

Edited by Scorpion

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It did not take long for a command post to be set up. The next thing was quarantining off the entire sector, which included the warehouse district off the main offworld port of entry. The grizzled Quarren Police Commander now running the scene thanked his lucky stars that did not include the port. It made his job infinitely easier; and the assistance of port security in dealing with the scene was appreciated too.

 

Given that that city was already on lockdown, barricading roads and herding survivors, and lookie-loos into available buildings was not as hard as it could have been. The totalitarian no-nonsense jack-booted enforcers clad in the best combination of personal protective equipment and body armor instilled fear and a sense of control in the local populace.

 

 “KARKING DRUK!!!” The tired commander swore loudly as he slammed the datapad a tech had just handed him on the workstation in front of him. “And do we have any evidence of that soldier?” He snarled, his tentacles bouncing angrily.

 

The young tech, took a step back, knowing full well the power the man before him had at his command and rumors of his draconian responses to disorder. “There is video from inside and outside the clinic sir, at least before the cameras got vaporized; and if you swipe to your left you will see reports from the Port Authority regarding their arrival. Apparently it was their ship that got shot down earlier today.” He responded, gesturing to the datapad.

 

The commander expertly flicked his fingers across the pad transferring the screens displayed there to the multiple screens lining the walls of the mobile command center that now served ad e center for the makeshift treatment and search and rescue operation already well underway. The silent security footage played across the screens. It showed the inner hallways, offices, and waiting room inside the clinic and the loading dock and multiple street views outside.

 

“There!” Another officer in the bus pointed to a screen. “Thats the droid we’re looking for! And see,” he pointed to another screen from the port “It is with the Jedi who were supposed to be bringing relief supply and aid.”

 

“and there is that red skinned bounty-hunter Jedi stealing an ambulance after the explosion.”

 

“Does anyone know where they went to?” The commander growled, rubbing his temples. This day just kept getting worse. The Jedi were supposed to be bringing aid and comfort to their people. The ruling council should have known, offworlders only brought trouble.

 

“Yes sir. Watch.” Another tech reached over and with a few deft keystrokes called up the video of the streets in the warehouse sector and video inside Warehouse 13. “They seem to be rendezvousing in the offworld quarters.” 

 

“MORE Jedi? Where are they karking coming from?”  He snarled, his headache only increasing in intensity as he watched Mjan activate his sabers on the screen. Didn’t he have enough going on without an incursion and a potential international incident. His people already needed saving from one stain on the galaxy. “What ancient spirit did we awaken to cause all of this?!” 

 

“Sir, uhmm, do you think we should enact The Final Protocol? I mean, not everywhere but, well,” he stammered pointing a boney Quarren finger at the screens showing Mjan, Nia, Leena, Xar, and Sara all in the same warehouse. “We can make it look like another accident. No sense pointing fingers at the Jedi just yet, publicly.”

 

The commander leaned forward, massaging his temples as he stared up at the screens of the warehouse. Only a few Quarren had made it inside from the clinic debacle. Most of the packed warehouse was filled with a myriad of spacers, tourists, and travelers from across the galaxy. Nobody really important. The rich enough had taken it upon themselves to quarantine in the hotels and motels elsewhere in the city; those who had not escaped when the lockdown was being put into effect.

 

Blinking his eyes slowly, the commander weighed the possible positive and negative outcomes. Truth be told, he had read the memo that indicated that latest research seemed to indicate the plague ravaging his people and his city stemmed from an offworld source. Maybe they deserved to be punished. Nobody knew how to show respect for the locals anyways.

 

“Just do it.”  He sighed leaning his forehead forward to rest in his hands. “And make sure they use the implosion and not the explosion this time. We don’t need any more local casualties. I’ll brief the council. Someone start on our press release blaming the Jedi for this one too. Use the video. The sooner we get ahead of this the better. Don’t need any more kriffing Jedi mucking things up.”

 

The tense air in the mobile command unit fell silent for a moment, replaced by an eerie and uneasy calm just before it exploded in a furry of activity.  

 

_______________________

 

Across the city in a small, albeit state-of-the-art laboratory that rivaled even Kamino in it’s heyday several scientists buzzed with worried excitement. “If it doesn’t come from the jellyfish where did it come from?” One queried worriedly.

 

“I don’t know, but the sequencing seems to indicate that it is mutating at an alarming rate from when the first miners were diagnosed 2 weeks ago. It seems to be infecting offworlders now as well. Some with startling results! Did anyone see the photos of that Duros and all the orange pustules in his throat? Haven’t seen that in any Quarren or Mon Cal.”

 

”Or that twi’lek couple with the headtail rot? Serves ‘em right for going outside the quarantine zone line a couple of wanna-be heroes in the dark below if you ask me. They probably brought the stuff here or something.”

 

”Except they only arrived a week ago...” the first tech chided his comrade. “It is strange though. It is almost like someone wanted this thing to mutate. Look.” He pulled up several slides of microscopically enhanced viruses. “It seems just too perfect. Like someone wanted to nuke us. And there is that little add on we can’t identify.”

 

”It just pisses me off!” A tech growled. “How come the poor miner folk and those living below the surface are getting infected faster. Don’t see the council rushing to set up too many hospitals down there! But when it gets to the surface and threatens their bottom line...”  

 

________________

 

Meanwhile in the chaotic hangar/warehouse/ massive room, Leena suddenly found that the rather suspicious droid had taken off into the crowd. She didn’t have a lot of time to pay it heed though as a wave of fear rippled through the crowd accompanied by the nearby all too familiar hum of a lightsaber activating.

 

The girl was stressed as it was. This mission was not going according to plan. How she longed to be back in the sterile controlled medical ward of the temple treating all manner of interesting, odd, and deforming injuries that came through the door. This had to be as bad as the warzone the Empress was going to take her too. ‘At least there I’d have had an armed escort.’

 

Snatching her own deactivated hilt from her belt, Leena tried to shoulder her way through the crowd of varying species until she could see what was going on. ‘A Jedi? What was he doing? Didn’t he know these people were innocent?’

 

With a shove, Leena stumbled into the small clearing the fearful masses were trying to give the saber wielding spacer. Before she could do much more a Green-skinned Nia was confronting the Jedi. ‘Mjan...’ she had heard or read that name somewhere before. ‘A Jedi I hope. Still, better be on the safe side.’

 

Standing a few paces behind Nia, Leena settled into a standard defensive position, her saber held at her waist. The hiss of the blade activating and Bathing her salmon skin in it’s pale teal light was enough to draw an audible gasp from the crowd. “She is right, master Jedi. These people need our help. Taste the fear here. Put your weapon away so we can go back to helping right the wrongs here.” Leena hated the idea of confronting another Jedi, much less one probably who outranked her; but she knew the right thing to do and years in medical situations had taught her that swift action and willingness to confront a mistake head on were the best ways to save lives in peril. This was not an operating room, but the same still applied. The force washed around her in billowing waves, the smell of sea air emanating from nowhere as the Jedi Mon Cal settled herself in the midst of the maelstrom, a lighthouse of peace and surety in the chaos. 

 

Hearing Sara’s voice at the edge of the crowd behind her, Leena’s mouth creased into a slight smile. At least she wasn’t totally alone. If anyone could figure this out the Zeltron, the droid, and her ought to be able to. “Yeah. I think so. Just trying to avoid any more life loss.” She spoke over her shoulder, careful to not let down her guard or take her eyes off Mjan and Nia. “I am glad you made it out alive though!”  She expressed genuinely. “What happened? Terrorists? The Sith?”

 

 

——————

 

Out above the far reaching waves of the planet, a flight of bombers that had been patrolling the further waterways from the city diverted their course, turning their trajectory towards the city as new orders chimed in.

 

—————-

 

And deep within the bowels of the Chief ld dark ocean waters beneath the city something gargled and belched. Cracks and fissures began to appear in the latest vacant mine shaft and spurts of water began to stream down the dark tunnels accompanied by the hissed of Lethane gas as it escaped into the otherwise still moist black air.

 

Trickling downwards into the dark, the waters ran over and around everything in their path, exposing long forgotten crevices and caverns. This would have all gone unnoticed, mines and miners deemed nonessential for the continuing operation of the city during lockdown, locked and boarded up for the time being; however the trickling waters triggered something deep and dark and echoing through the waves of the force a wave of sickly cold laughter echoed forth inaudible to the ear but chilling and vengeful to those attuned to hear

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Ro glared at the figure in a flight suit that seemed intent on brandishing his weapon and making threats. What exactly he was or what his involvement in all this was remained a mystery to Ro, but it seemed that his companion had gotten in his way at any rate. 

 

Taking advantage of this momentary respite, the Cathar moved to approach the Mon Calamari Jedi but when he looked back she was gone. He was slowly losing his patience with this situation and the pain wasn’t doing his temper any favors.

 

Then out of the corner of his year, he saw it.

 

UN-CRINKING-BELIEVABLE.
 

Angrily removing his robe and tossing it’s dead weight aside, Ro pushed through the crowd.

 

“She is right, master Jedi. These people need our help. Taste the fear here. Put your weapon away so we can go back to helping right the wrongs here.”

 

More droning and juvenile posturing. He had it with these Jedi. Bullying his way through the people there like a bull in a china shop, Ro finally interrupted their “party” with reckless abandon. If this was going to be a lightsaber measuring contest, he liked his odds.

 

Igniting his lightsaber and moving between Leena and Mjan, the oversized Cathar growled.

 

“I don’t know what Jedi reject camp the lot of you morons came from, but we got bigger fish to fry right now! If you want a fight to see who is more regally stupid then let’s get that over with now. Because last I checked, they shot a Jedi vessel full of younglings out of the sky, have their droids joking about it on the way here, a hospital full of Jedi conveniently just blows up, and they are supposedly the ones who called us all here in the first place! Any of you nitwits ever heard of a T-R-A-P. Sorry. Let me spell it out for you. TRAP!”

 

Ro took a breath. That adrenaline felt good. At least the pain was good for something. He had wanted to make this a private conversation but the continued incompetence around him had forced his hand. He was nothing if not a survivor and he’d seen enough incompetence kill people to last him a lifetime. He still had no idea what plague they were actually supposed to be dealing with at this point but he’d just as well assume that was a farce, too. The sooner these naive children stopped bicker and realized their situation, the better.

 

It seemed that recent events had collected quite the band of questionable characters in one place and Ro wasn't planning on being caught with his pants down. Of course, the addition of more suspicious droids made him even more leery. They needed a plan and he could only hope that this Mon Calamari and Tote’ma-Staff were more rational than they were overly authoritative and semi-suicidal. It might have been a lot to ask from a Jedi, but at least the little Nautolan girl seemed at least decently reasonable. Perhaps their common sense was directly proportional to their lack in physical size.

___

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Sara was reticent to admit what might have happened. She wasn't sure. But what she thought happened directly implicated her or Leena as the source of this mess.; or at least the hospital exploding mess. As an empath, Sara could already feel the emotions of the world around her. But what Leena did unlocked another part of her that amplified her empathic abilities immeasurably and caused a massive feedback wave of energy. That was her working theory at least. But Sara couldn't say that. Yes she was wanted by the police, and yes this may not actually come down on Sara due to the whole thing being some freakishly and unfortunately timed accident. But something about Leena poked at her; the cheery-overly optimistic Mon Cal was now staring panic, anxiety, and trauma in the face; doing whatever she could to hold it together.  It was a feeling that Sara couldn't really describe. But she didn't want to throw all of that on her right now. 

 

A look of consternation flitted across the surface of Sara's face for a brief moment before a lumbering Cathar interjected and interposed himself between the Nautolan, the flight suit guy, and Leena. 

 

Too shocked to interject herself, Sara waited while the big kitty squawked, thinking about the security forces and how they might be reacting to her theft. Don't they have quarantining to worry about... Wait, didn't we all just break quarantine?

Edited by Scorpion

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Xar watched the individuals who had all come together begin to make the tension rise and fall and rise again. The person who had ordered people to leave was rude and then ignited some kind of weapon. The crowd around had jumped away briefly, but closed in to see and hear what was happening. A green skinned being tried to calm him down, but it looked more like a fight brewing. However, when the nurse that Xar had escorted began to speak, she seemed to have a calming effect on the crowd around them. 

 

Then the cat ignited his weapon. The crowd was back to a fearful stance. 

 

Xar couldn’t help but laugh out loud. 

 

“This is entertaining” Xar commented to the Nemodian nearby. “Is this the feeling you organics get when watching an illegal bot fight? Heh, we may have to pitch this to…”

 

Xar stopped himself before he finished his sentence. He almost gave away who he worked for. Something he did not want. 

 

Xar looked around and realized he wanted some more elbow space, and this crowd was beginning to get too close to touching his superior body. Not to mention, Xar felt ignored. And that was a crime itself. 

 

“This is terribly rude...” Xar began, pretending to speak to the neimoidian but really directed at everyone.  “All this tension and stupidity over nothing. Perhaps the cat is suffering from this plague. Or these Jedi,” Xar practically buzzed the name to emphasise his idea. “...are silent carriers in these cramped quarters. Is an increase in aggression and brain degradation part of the disease? Does anyone know? That Mon Cal's eyes do look abnormally red...” 

 

As Xar talked, the crowd began to back away from the group. The talking of how the group of people could be potentially infected had an effect. This, combined with the fact that weapons were drawn, was enough to make people either give some space or just disperse and care for their loved ones. 

 

“Better”  Xar spoke softly and then turned to the others. He made a few steps towards the feline. He was hyped up on himself and wanted to see if he could prove his supremacy further. Now was his chance to show these ingrates his superiority.

 

 “Now unless you lessers want to attract more authorities to this place, we suggest you put your weapons down. After all, you are probably already dying from the disease or will die from whatever trap you think is occurring you ferocious feline, and no sense in damaging those who can live through this quarantine.”

 

With this last sentence, Xar gestured towards himself, indicating he would survive this ordeal. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what was going to happen. But he knew he didn’t want local authorities to arrive and dismantle him, and these Jedi were definitely going to attract trouble if they continued to act like a bunch of hyper-steroid trandoshans. 

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Nok had decided the best response to lightsabers was to keep quiet and out of the way.

 

Jedi. Wonderful. Trained, LARGE, Jedi.

 

Tempers were flaring, particularly from that Cathar. If this turned into a fight between the Cathar and the dual-wielding humanoid...


No, these are Jedi. They’ll calm down, and…

 

...notice the blind man without a seeing eye droid. Perfect.

 

No chance of faking this then. No one would buy that he’d run through the streets and found his way in here without help. Fine. Stay out of their drama for now, and find yourself some insurance.

 

Nok’s thoughts were interrupted as the droid, a RHTC-560 Hunter Trainer he realized, weighed in on the conversation. Nok quirked a smile when the droid called everyone “lesser”. One of those personalities then.

 

Unfortunately he was also standing near Nok when he started talking, and was pretending to be talking to him specifically.

 

Wonderful. So much for staying out of everyone’s attention.

 

“I have to agree with the droid here. We need to calm down if we’re going to make it out of this. I don’t think anyone here wants a fight with the local law enforcement, especially when everyone is already scared from this pandemic.”

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Nia couldn't believe this. Three Jedi, and the war droid and the stranger seemed to have a better grasp on the situation. She looked at all the drawn weapons, the tempers flared, the threats issued. 

 

"Enough! All of you!" she shouted. In all her years, she'd never once shouted. She'd always been quiet. Always timid. But here, in the middle of chaos, she found her voice.

 

"Mjan, Rose. For all your talks about fighting this war to defend the innocent, to defeat the menace of the Sith, you jumped so quickly to threaten them for your own protection. That is not what a Jedi is."

 

She wheeled around to the second lightsaber-wielding Jedi (@Leena Kil), no more impressed.

 

"You jump so quickly to your weapon, and though you do so to protect the innocents, you threaten an ally in the same manner that you are trying to dissuade him from doing it. You are a hypocrite."

 

Next was the Cathar shouting of conspiracy and betrayal, oblivious to the countless innocent lives that had also been taken. (@Durose Roshan)

 

"You are no better! You think this is a trap, and yet you draw your weapon and try to goad us to a fight! What good would that accomplish? We'd simply have even more dead Jedi. Not to mention the scores that still need our help, trap or no!"

 

She spun around, addressing them all.

 

"You're disappointments to the Order that my father gave his life to serve, bickering and spreading fear like the Sith of old, and if you insist on following this path to its end then I will have no part of it. You can find me out there, with the sick and the injured, doing what a Jedi should be doing, rather than spend your time acting like criminals and terrorists. You should all be ashamed."

 

She spun towards the crowd, and subsequently, the exit. There were injured people out there, and sick ones too. She would help them, even if the others wouldn't. She pushed through the crowd, and towards the exit. She had a sinking realization she may have just left the Jedi Order, but right then, she didn't care. All she cared about was helping those that needed it.

Edited by Nia Doarr
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Fear... it was a festering rash that was capable of spreading like wildfire given the right environment. Mjan stood at the beach head, his blade ignited and positioned to deter the infected and would be looters back to the chaos from which they had came, an empty threat meant to persuade. As bad as he felt standing there, preventing aid and harbor, he had to restore order. It was his job whether Nia understood it or not. He knew deep down that there were times that the best way to truly help someone was by protecting them from themselves.

 

And yet, his Padawan was the first to stand against him, her words echoing of naivety and wishful thinking, one of the very things he had been trying to spell out for her. And yet, her gaze of disappointment, his own heart torn in two by his own persuasion, he gazed in return with his own look of sorrow. If his words could not reach her, then perhaps reality would. Before he could stand down, his weight shifting to do so, yet a familiar call bringing his defense back into the equation.

 

His gaze first shifted toward the Mon Calamari Jedi Healer he recognized right away by the white shade of her chosen profession, her words lost upon his already chosen decision to stand down. Yet it was the brute Cathar that came pressing in that truly spread his patience thin. You think I want to prevent entrance? You think I want to..." His gaze shifted from Leena toward Ro. "Get into a lightsaber measuring contest? No. I am a Jedi." His hand reached up, pulling the flex mask from upon his humanoid face to reveal the Sithly Red Skin and Tendrils of the Kissai that hung below for those well versed in his description. "And it's my job to maintain Order in Chaos whether I agree with it or not."

 

His gaze shifted to Nia just as she reached her own boiling point, her words cutting deeper than any he had felt before and as his golden eyes swelled with tears, his anger erupted in a burst of anguish. "You know nothing Padawan!" He barked back, the pain in his chest echoing an emptiness he hadn't felt in a very long time, her words tearing at it like a blade. "But I'll let you learn the truth your way." His words and following actions of deactivating his blade and sealing the cylinders upon each end fell upon distancing ears as he watched her depart. Rose, having climbed down from the rafters went to touch Mjan's shoulder knowing full well his own history, only found his gaze shifting toward her in tear filled disgust, mainly with himself.

 

Slamming the end of his makeshift walking stave down, he too went to walk off in the opposite direction. But before he departed back into the opposing side of the warehouse, he left a mumble of words that only Rose and those within earshot could of heard. "Quarantine be damned."

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As the three "Jedi" stood facing each other in a silent stand-off, the tension was palpable. A RHTC-560 Hunter Trainer was trying to talk them down. It clearly couldn't be trusted. It made Ro even more suspicious as to which of these "Jedi" had the droid on their "payroll." And then the blindfolded alien spoke. There was a common theme. 

 

Why do they keep talking about more authorities. Why would authorities detour to a random warehouse when there is a exploded hospital to deal with? Unless the Mon Calamari "Jedi" and her team of hitmen are behind the explosion in the first place!

He would be a fool to trust anyone here. But it was still wise to keep his enemies close until he knew who was the biggest threat. It would not be surprising if the Jedi had been infiltrated by the Sith for all he knew or cared. The alien behind the mask looked more like a monster when he removed it. Perhaps that's why he thought maintaining order was threatening people he had no jurisdiction over. But the man was right. This wasn't a lightsaber measuring contest. This was a battle of Jedi hubris. 

"You are no better! You think this is a trap, and yet you draw your weapon and try to goad us to a fight! What good would that accomplish? We'd simply have even more dead Jedi. Not to mention the scores that still need our help, trap or no!"

Ro's thoughts were momentarily detoured by the little Nautolan. She made him smile as he postured a bit more defensively. She was the only genuine person he'd ran across yet. Allowing the red skinned Mr. Tote'ma-Staff to finish with his temper tantrum, Ro began to back away in the direction of the Nautolan Jedi. She seemed like the only trustworthy person here. There were "Jedi" running around covertly like Sith and hiding their friends in the rafters, Jedi blowing up hospitals to make themselves look heroic, Jedi waving around their weapons like this was the Clone Wars. Only he and this small alien female had the balls to stand up to them and think about the refugees all around them.

Ro continued to back away towards the Nautolan (@Nia Doarr). He spoke over his shoulder, keeping his lightsaber raised in case the Mon Cal (@Leena) or Mr. Tote'um (@Mjan) decided to send in their goons.

"Little Jedi, you will have to excuse me as we do not have a proper introduction. But you are wrong. The good it accomplished was protecting you if necessary. We are surrounded by evil. And the Jedi have long fallen from their ways of protecting people. I saw it first hand on Chandrilla. They... we... left thousands upon thousands to fend for themselves and die after we repelled the initial Mandalorian assault. Coruscant was little different."

Ro cringed as it hurt his soul to say "we". That was one lie he was proud was not actually true. He was not the one who sentenced countless refugees to death. But in a way, he was still party to their sins by his own inaction. He was helpless to save them just like he was helpless to save Rose. The Jedi had left him fighting a losing battle and he had suffered greatly because of it.

"I know you want to save people, but we are not safe here. We need to leave and make a plan and reassess who we can trust. And away from a place where more lives are put directly in the line of fire by Jedi hubris or arrogance. We have to think big picture now..."

Having backed far enough a way from the confrontation and towards the girl, Ro turned off his blue bladed lightsaber and offered it to the Nautolan. It was dangerous turning take his eyes off of the enemies at his gates but it was a risk he'd have to take. 

 

Looking her dead in the eyes, there was tiredness in his expression, "If you don't trust me, take my lightsaber. But they, whoever they is, shot my younglings out of the sky even though I was the only one who set foot on the planet. We are no safe here. And the sooner you realize I'm trying to save the actual Jedi worth saving, the better. I could careless if the violent and unworthy want to cull themselves from our ranks."

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Sara was kind of at a loss for what to do at this point. She wasn’t a Jedi (but she could feel something spiritual and whatever that was, she’d get to it later) she wasn’t a peacekeeper, and she wasn’t in any position to force or pose a moral high ground here, considering everything else that was going on. Sara knew very little about the people around her and could only gather that everyone was reaching very real -- and potentially meaningful -- psychological milestones in this conversation. It might be sentimental to her if she felt invested in anyone’s story other than Leena or her own. But as it was, despite her racially involuntary emotional involvement, the tense back-and-forth drew Sara’s attention to literally anything and everything else in the warehouse. Which, unfortunately, illuminated a series of extremely unfortunate devices that she did NOT catch when she first came in. 

 

The Zeltron, still feeling the tug of fatigue drawing at her adrenaline deprived muscles, shifted her gaze to fill the warehouse and took stock of the refugees; most of them were not native Mon Cal or Quarren. She hazily sifted through her memories of the last few hours and a small feeling of panic began to crawl knives from the base of her spine, bringing stress fueled energy back to the weary fibers of her muscles. 

 

She didn’t think it would accomplish much, but the Zeltron approached the group carefully with her arms open wide exposing no weapons and indicating no aggression. Though her motions and expression were laced with a small amount of suppressed anxiety. 

 

“He-e-y-y, I feel like we’ve gotten to a good point in this conversation, but I think the big kitty is talking a lot of sense. We really should leave now.” Sara softly chided, throwing a meaningful look at Leena and directing her face toward the cameras. “A majority of us just walked or ran away from a burning hospital. We’re all offworlders. And although some of us may have the best intentions, they are blowing children out of the sky for violating quarantine. Can we pretend that these Dac natives are working with a lot of sense right now? Probably not. And if you were -- hypothetically speaking -- a higher up official responsible for enforcing rules on this planet and you saw a warehouse filled with offworlders; some of whom may potentially be responsible for destroying said hospital. Would you act rationally? Or would you act… Let’s just sayy-y explosively? Fiery? Vaporiz-y? If that’s even a word?”

 

All the while Sara was saying this she too was edging toward the front of the warehouse and inadvertently joining Ro and Nia in their exit. 

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Leena sighed as the confrontation continued, only relaxing slightly as the others deactivated their blades. She was glad she had not had to use hers. In truth, she had only undergone the minimal amount of required saber training, choosing instead to focus her passions and mind on where the force had led her: healing. How could such a humanitarian mission go so off kilter so quickly? And what was that laughter she felt in her bones. It was as if a needle of darkness had pricked her and giggled.

 

Still, there was something about the Cathar. He did not feel right. He surely was not a Jedi, was he? Mjan? Most likely; and Leena knew if that wad the case she would surely pay for her actions. The Nautolan? Eeehhhh...maybe. If she was, she was not well versed in the Jedi arts. Still, Leena felt her frustrations and desire to help those all around them. Good Jedi feelings. Feelings Leena echoed in her own soul.

The dark Neinodian on the other hand, was the only one not wanting to kill anyone for the moment. In fact, was he unnerved by it all? As she suspected, he was nothing more than a force attuned thug of some sort. No sith to be worried about.

 

Everyone seemed paranoid, like they had something to hide. Even the Nautolan was dressed in rags, if she was an actual Jedi. Then Sara, the one person Leena actually had some sort of credit built with, even if she didn’t know anything else about her, spoke of getting while the getting was good.

 

Leena, held onto her blade, just about to deactivate it when the Cathar offered his hilt to the Nautolan. She froze. In that brief glimpse, it clicked. Along with the man’s words, she finally realized it. “Chandrilla,” she whispered under her breath, before shooting a glance towards Mjan with one eye, never removing the other from Ro.

 

“Do not take that blade little sister.” Leena spoke loudly and sternly across the expanse between them, gesturing the point of her saber towards the hilt about to be exchanged. “That was Master Vrink Dask’s blade! He went to Chandrilla to lend aid and never returned. He was reportedly killed in an ambush. He was one of the master healers who trained me! All he did was seek to help the less fortunate and was killed for his troubles!” Leena wanted to launch into a tirade as she felt anger and hatred towards Ro, for all she knew her master and friend’s killer, boiling up from deep within. The elder Mon Cal had been the only other Mon Cal healer within the Temple Healers and had taken a shining to the young Leena and her bubbling excitement for treating the injured bodies and souls under their charge. There was not time to reminisce, and as much as a deep part of her wanted revenge, she was a healer, not a murderer; despite what any of the other lunatics about them seemed to think. “That monster is a sand panther in bantha’s clothing. Should you go, he may kill you as well. Add another Jedi to his tally.”

 

Whirling around before anyone could respond, Leena shouldered her way past Sara, shooting a look at Mjan  that said ‘She is with you. Better rescue her before she does something you’ll regret’ and then Xar. “I trust a droid such as yourself would have no problems killing that, that killer cat if the need arose.”

 

”I am going to go and figure out what is kriffing going on here! Anyone whose intentions are pure are welcome to join me” She bellowed, shooting Sara a rage-filled glance silently begging her to come with her and get her out of there as she stomped off into the fearfully stunned crowd, deeper back towards the far corner of the warehouse and the small suite of offices there.

 

The anger she felt wracked her body and had she not spent nearly her entire life studying the ways of the Jedi, she would have undoubtedly leapt towards the cat and attempted to gut him where he stood. Leena had taken the death of Master Dask hard. It was his death that made her start keeping her lightsaber close at hand instead of in her quarters as she had been; she swore she would not allow anyone to desecrate and destroy those under her care. Right now, the whole city seemed to need that and Jedi, spies, impersonators, and droids be damned. She was going to do that. Alone if need be.

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In a fit of rage, Mjan slammed his forearms into a nearby table, slinging what parts and tools lingered upon with a sweep of his arms. He huffed with fuming anger, the scars of old ripped open by his Apprentice and her words. But more importantly, ripped open by her look of disappointment. It was a look he saw too many times. Not only from his Father when he left Krayiss II and the Sorcerer's of Tund to study under the Jedi in his search of the true Force. But from his own look in the mirror countless days during his pilgrimage to the Jedi Order and his first days as one. He was Tsis, Sith, and yet, he was now a Jedi. He knew better than anyone the potential to fall and the blindness to one's own darkness. Nia had never left her homeworld, never knew anything except the life she lived before. What could she know, what could she fathom, about what makes a Jedi?

 

He felt Rose's forehead between his shoulder blades as she attempted to calm the Lieutenant and with a expansive sigh, he turned to look at his Captain. "Forgive me Captain." He said as the peace within him returned. "Its time she learnt things on her own." Rose smiled and punched Mjan hard in the shoulder, causing the Sith Jedi to flinch even under her frail looking frame. "Perhaps. Or perhaps what she envisioned the Jedi to be isn't what the Jedi are. She is young, inexperienced, reclusive. Similar to the Jedi Knight I took under my wing at Dark Sun. But look at him now." 

 

Mjan chuckled, his gaze shifting toward the crowd as a new ruckus began, his gaze meeting that of the Mon Cal's almost instantly, almost intuitively. Moving Rose aside, he trekked the brief distance just to see her point a blade toward the hilt of another's, the larger Cathar's, with the her voice strongly accusing murder. His golden gaze widened, and in a brief moment his own temper attempted to return, but Rose was there to place her hand upon his shoulder and subside it. His gaze shifted from Leena to Ro, then to Nia as Leena finished her words and trekked off in the direction he had just came from, a deep sigh being breathed from him as she passed.

 

"Take the Blade if you wish Nia." Mjan spoke sincerely and calm, his face neutral in his reactions. "Whether or not the accusation of murder is true, perhaps it will bring you peace to hold another Jedi's weapon." And with that said, he smiled a saddening smile at her and turned to follow Leena, Rose staying in his place as she watched over Nia for him.

 

When he and Leena were a good bit away, he finally spoke to the Mon Cal, his voice serene and full of sincerity, the persona he wore earlier disappearing with the false face he had removed to reveal his true identity. "Forgive my actions earlier. I am Jedi Knight and Alliance Lieutenant Mjan Sadow iv-Adas.... and yes, of the Sith species as well, Jedi?"

Edited by MSA
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Xar watched as the others began to back down and put their weapons away. There was anger, annoyance and agitation. Not a good combination with a bunch of people who had weapons. Even the nurse, or jedi or whatever, that had helped escort him to this most likely plague infested warehouse was angry and made a comment to Xar that he should probably kill the large cat whom he believed he had helped calmed down.

 

And they were ignoring him. They, these lesser barely evolved beings, were ignoring Agent Xar. He wasn’t just some second-class citizen droid. He was the great Xar! 

 

“How dare you!” Xar growled loudly as the Jedi were walking towards the door. No, this would not do. He had to do something. He had to make these people see that he was their better. They should be asking for his help, not ignoring him! Xar's claws opened for a moment opened and began to hum with vibrations.

 

But what could he do? Lose his temper like some child? No. He wasn’t that angry. His chance would come to prove these...idiots of his superiority. After all, if he couldn’t shrug off a little  lapse of others' proper perceptual senses, what kind of superior would he be? He would just bide his time and when the moment came, he would prove his betterness. He didn't know how, but sometime he would. He would prove to everyone he was their better. 

 

Xar looked at the one being who actually commented something that he noticed Xar. The Nemodian. Xar studied the man for a bit. Clearly some kind of businessman, judging by the clothes and the smooth silky eye-covering. Very rich indeed. Those garments couldn’t have been cheap.

 

Xar remembered how he probably had a dismantle on sight order out for him. It would be impossible to travel publicly at the moment. While he could play up the angle that a Jedi hired him to do some random killing, but if this man was as rich as he looked, and if Xar could make himself invaluable enough to need Xar around, perhaps a dismantle on sight order could be wavered...

 

“Well, elegant one, at least one of you…” Xar stopped as he glanced towards the leaving Mon Cal nurse. “...two of you have the wisdom to recognize someone is superior in this room. You, blind one, should count yourself lucky, for you are in the presence of the great Agent Xar. And we…”

 

Xar nearly vomited the next words, or he would have if he was capable of vomiting.

 

“Would like to offer our help to you. We noticed that your lack of visual perception may have left you incapable of getting from place to place, and this dingy warehouse is no place for such beings like us”

 

Xar couldn’t believe he was doing this, but desperate times…

 

“Take advantage of the privilege of hiring our services and become our escort to better accommodations. Such services would allow you to walk safely from place to place after all.”   

 

Even with how Xar worded it, he couldn’t help but feel like he was hiring himself out like some common seeing eye droid. How revolting. 

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The droid’s offer threw Nok for a loop for a second. Not because of his sudden change in politeness, but because the suppressed vehemence of the machine wasn’t accompanied by the telltale pulse of negative emotion. If anyone living had tried that Nok would have been swimming in hatred and bile. Granted, it was a droid, but it still felt odd to hear it without feeling it.

 

Maybe I can overcome that dislike...or at least keep him on my side long enough to get me off this planet. No time to be stingy.

 

Nok kept his voice low, preferring not to shout out to the entire warehouse, though someone nearby would still be able to hear. His voice dropped into his friendliest, oiliest, most appeasing tone, the kind you use to tell the inspector what a magnificent job they're doing while you slip him a thousand creds. Act servile and let people's egos do the rest.

 

“I’ll pay you 15,000 in hard credits now to protect me. I’ll pay double that again once we’re safely off-planet, and I’ll pay you another 15,000 if I get out of here without serious injury.” Nok held up his hands. “Plus I work with some specialty droid manufacturers, so I can probably help you get replacement parts cheaper. And it goes without saying I’ll compensate you for on-the-job expenses and injuries.”

 

That's about all the hooks I've got at the moment. Best not to lay it on too thick. Just one more blatant appeal to his pride.

 

Nok shrugged as he pulled out the top of a small money purse that clicked with the distinct sound of cred sticks before tucking it back in. “Just a thought. I’m not good enough to get off this planet on my own, and I’m not against paying someone their worth for their help.” 

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Nia knew how she appeared- that she seemed naive and childish. She could tell that Mjan thought of her that way- likely that the rest of the people in the warehouse thought that way too. But she wasn't necessarily going to beat herself up over their negative opinions. If it was naive to aim for such a simple goal, to help people directly, then she didn't mind it. Still, it hurt that they were so clouded by fear that only one offered to help.

 

She didn't know the others, but from what she'd seen of Mjan, she was disappointed in him. Not as a Sith turned Jedi, she didn't think he was in danger of falling or anything like that. But he seemed so caught up in his crusade against the Sith that he didn't know how else to help the galaxy. And the more she saw of the other Jedi, the more she thought that it was a problem with the Order, not just the individuals. She grew up with tales of Jedi helping the weak, and protecting them against the tyrants and the Sith of the galaxy, but all she'd seen so far were Jedi more concerned with the Sith's destruction and the citizens' preservation.

 

When she was approached by Ro, she stopped for a moment, listening.

 

"What is there to trust people with? The only ones I'll be endangered by are those seeking to cause more chaos. You may help if you wish- Force knows this planet needs all the help it can get right now." She glanced at Mjan, his temper seemingly controlled now. "I find no comfort in holding weapons, Master Mjan."

 

She left the rest of the shouting behind- she registered the words. Accusations of murder, offered deals and shaky suggestions. But she'd spoken her peice.

 

When she exited the warehouse, there was still chaos. Dozens of injured and sick still fled the hospital. She was nearly overwhelmed with the flood of fear, both in the air and in the force. Still, she steadied herself. These people needed help. It would do her no good to give into the fear that had gripped all the others. She fought through the crowd, wincing with every brushed arm and bumped shoulder, looking for anyone who needed immediate aid. She was barely experienced with using the Force to heal, but something was better than nothing, she thought.

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Potential impending vindication aside, Sara realized the idiocy of her comment as the last word left her lips. Even if she was right and the military, the police, the peacekeepers, or whatever force that ruled over this world were coming down on them, what could she do? And how the heck was she going to convince a room full of stressed out people to leave if they were all more invested in their mutual existential and faith-based crises. They didn’t even know who she was. Sara paused, feeling the skin of her right palm slap against the still healing skin of her forehead and winced at the bloom of pain that greeted it. 

 

Worse, Sara had no dewbacks in this race. Some of the randos gathered here had been in wars across the galaxy; wars she’d heard of but hadn’t fought in. A couple of them acted superior in ways that reminded her of the Hutts who used to hold sway over Nar Shaddaa. She couldn’t relate to a single person here. And ironically, she could relate to that. It wasn't strange to have no one. For some people, that's the only reality they understand. 

 

She felt more than heard Leena’s anger build, watching pain consume the clear yellow pools of her salmon-skinned face; that buzzing optimist from the Luridae drifting miles away like a starship without life support. Like it or not, Sara was the only one she knew here and vice versa.

 

((Posted with Kail’s permission))

The Cathar heard the young Jedi's words. Putting his lightsaber back on his belt he decided to follow her and wade through the people in front of them. They would speak further once they were outside of all this chaos and no longer surrounded by enemies.

 

Sara groaned lightly under her breath as she trudged back into the warehouse. She cut the distance between her and the Cathar as he walked in the opposite direction. The big kitty from before was so focused on the fleeing Nautolan and the hemming in crowds of refugees around him that he didn’t look down to see the hilt that he strapped back on his belt had disappeared. Sara allowed herself a tiny smirk but was careful not to betray any other emotion before crossing to the office area where Leena had retreated. 

 

When she caught up with Leena, Sara carefully rested her right hand atop the young Mon Cal’s left shoulder. Sara could feel the warring emotions in Leena’s biochemistry playing tug of war in her mind, mingled with the tension from the others around her. It was a mess. All of this was a mess. Leena and Sara both expected a simple mission. But everything went to pot quickly. Not to mention, apparently there was some serious emotional baggage here. And Sara lacked almost all capability for words regarding sensitive situations like this. So, instead of just spouting words at her, Sara swung the little guppy around and embraced her. It was a simple gesture and one Sara wished she’d had when she was younger. She knew the power it had and thought, beyond words, it would help console the young fish with whatever was going on. 

 

“I can’t claim to know how much pain you’re feeling. And I don’t know much about master-student relationships. But if what you’re feeling is anything like losing a parent, then I think I can understand.” Sara said softly, her face resting only an inch or two away from Leena’s ears. She slipped Leena’s master’s saber hilt into her hand, careful that the blade part was pointed away from both of them. “But we can’t help anyone like this. I know you might not be able to trust me. And I don’t blame you. I’m hard to trust. But we can’t help anyone with anger. And separating like this is only going to make all of us more vulnerable. My fault, your fault, their fault; it doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do right now, together.” Sara continued. A few small salty streaks ran down Sara’s cheek as the Mon Cal’s anger pierced her right temple. From this proximity it was hard to ignore. But Sara didn’t care. Something about this moment felt right in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

 

“Take all the time you need little guppy. I won’t abandon you, okay?” Sara said, continuing the embrace until Leena turned her away.

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The girl was impulsive and perhaps a little foolish, but her heart seemed to be in the right place. Ro smirked a little to himself as he headed to leave the warehouse.

 

This reminds me a little of myself... maybe even Rose if she was raised by parents who loved her and taught her what was right...

Calmly following Nia out of the warehouse, Ro stood there for a moment as she attempted to assist others in need. He allowed her to engage in a few moments of futility. She seemed to need the distraction. He wasn’t sure what the fallout was between her and her red friend was something that had been brewing for a while or was a sudden spark of emotions or if it was even truly him that she was mad at. All the same, it seemed like she could use a little space.

 

He respected that she cared. She was the only one attempting to de-escalate things when her companion had tried to start trouble. As far as the former Watcher knew, she wasn’t necessarily dressed like a traditional Jedi. Still, from how she had said Ro believed that she was, indeed, part of the Order and quite possibly the only one here acting like a Jedi should. Her ideals might have seemed naive but wasn't that the point. The Jedi were supposed to be symbols that people aspired to, even if those ideals were impossible to perfectly fulfill.

 

What's the point of being cynical "super heroes"? How would that make the world, any world, a better place?

 

Finally stepping in front of her, Ro finally opened his mouth to speak. He was no longer carrying himself as if he was unhurt. His body was slumped forward and his expression was one of weariness. The blood on the fur of his face and the smokey odor that swirled around him bared silent witness to the horrors he had endured in his short time on this planet. And he was confident those horrors were only the first of many if he did not choose his next steps and allies wisely.

 

“You are right, Jedi," he began with a sigh. "You want to help these people and that is the right idea. That is what Jedi are supposed to do. I would never condemn you for that. You might be angry at your companions. You might be angry at me. But you were in danger as far as I was concerned. If you want to lump me in with the others then so be it. This day has been weirder than most. But what I said stands.

 

Now outside, Ro points to the sky with one arm and holds his side with the other. Outstretching his arm forces him to wince a bit more than he expected.

 

"I just watched younglings get shot out of the sky. And then I lept from a two story building holding a woman and child in order to save them from an exploding hospital! Nothing about this planet has seemed right from the moment I arrived!”

 

Ro grimaced a little remembering the impact of his fall and still feeling the throbbing pain of his ribs. He let out another sigh as he lowers his arms, head, and eyes in an expression of near defeat.

 

“I don’t say this to brag. I know you want to help people, too, and maybe even be seen like I’m sure your father was," he began with his eyes staring down at the pavement.

But now raising them, the injured Cathar stared into Nia's globular black eyes as he continued, "But we can’t do any of those things if we are dead. And if we waste our efforts treating people and not the cause then more could die in spite of our best intentions.”

 


Stepping aside, Ro had said his piece. She was free to take it or leave it. Giving her a little space, he looked for a clear spot to sit down.

 

“You are your own person, Jedi. If you need to do whatever it is that you need to do... so be it. But when you are ready to try and do some real good to help the most people, I’ll be here,” Ro finished as he sat down on the ground to center himself a little and push the pain out of his mind once again.

 

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Leena fought back the tears that were threatening to cascade from her bulbous eyes. She honestly did not care if anyone followed her or not. This mission was supposed to be humanitarian and she had already been stranded in space, practically blown up, come to blows with another Jedi, and been confronted by a Jedi impersonator wielding the blade of one of the masters she had felt the closest to. That was not to mention the dull pulse of laughter she seemed to feel gnawing at the base of her neck as if the very air had been possessed by some dark side wraith. 

 

The offices were where Leena was stomping towards with a purpose. She did not know why, but it seemed as good a place as any. She was upset, the sight of Master Dask’s blade pulling forth a pit of emotion she had not even been aware she had bottled away. A part of her wanted to lash out, to kill the one who had killed her friend; but it was not the Jedi way and she knew it. So she kept the emotions contained, the Jedi mantra playing in her head as she whispered it to herself, choking back tears: “Emotion, yet Peace. Ignorance, yet Knowledge. Passion, yet Serenity. Chaos, yet Harmony. Death, yet . . . Death, yet . . .”  Her voice trailed off at the thought of her friend and master’s death. Before she could start again she had come to a stop in front of the locked office door and the other Jedi, Mjan, had caught up with her. Leena tried to pull herself up and contain her emotions, especially as he introduced himself as a Jedi Knight. She sniffled pathetically as she whispered back, “Padawan Leena Kil of the Circle of Jedi Healers. This was supposed to be my first real mission and it has all gone so . . . so wrong!”

 

Before the conversation could continue, Leena was swung around and embraced by her pilot comrade, Sara. The Zeltron’s words flowed over her, and even if Leena wasn’t hearing all the words, she felt the woman’s emotions radiating and embracing her, tears flowing freely from her eyes and down her face as Sara pushed the lightsaber into her hand.

 

It took several minutes for Leena to compose herself before she was able to push herself off of Sara with a whispered, “Thank you.”

 

Looking from Sara to Mjan she offered a weak smile as she tucked the second saber in her belt. “So . . . uhhhh . . . What now? How can we stop this chaos?”

 

__________________________
 

Back at The mobile police command several blocks away, notice was given to the ‘Jedi’ leaving the building. In truth, while the majority of police command and resources were being dedicated to securing the scene of the explosion and searching out survivors and treating the wounded. A small, select team, however, was monitoring the Jedi situation: officially having been designated as terrorists on police watchlists the offworld Jedi had several strikes against them. One of these was that research reports continued to show that the disease that was continually mutating and infecting, and killing, at a higher and higher rate, had originated from a source outside of Mon Calamari’s natural world. In fact, it appeared to be lab grown.

 

The team in the command center watched as Nia and Ro left the warehouse. If the building was imploded, they would be left unscathed. The big cat had been reported to be the possible source of the explosion. Witnesses reported him running through the flames, cackling as he swung his lightsaber at anyone trying to get away. Label: EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

 

Quietly, a team of specialized agents began to move in hidden amongst the chaotic crowd. On the rooftops above, several snipers easily found Nia and Ro in their sites. All they had to do was await the order.

 

___________________
 

Out over the vast oceanic expanse of the planet, the bombers’ engines whined as the aircraft raced towards the city, low and fast. It would be only minutes before they were able to fire on their target. Hitting the edge of the city, the pilots were then and only given the target: terrorists holed up in a warehouse that had blown up a nearby hospital. Reports indicated ground forces had the building surrounded. Implosion warheads were mandatory.

 

________________

 

Before any of this planned reestablishment-of-order-by-use-of-force could take place, the darkness below gurgled in evil excitement. Above the din of the chaos that drove the city to it’s knees, the conflicted force imbued chaos of our misfit party of mis-adventurers vibrated as clear as a harp string plucked in a silent orchestra pit. The presence in the pits of the planet would have smiled if it could have. The signature was recognizable and the ancient darkness in the inky blackness of the depths surged. The cracks and fissures splitting and spluttering in the isolation as the pressure of the darkness ate it’s way towards freedom. It’s call had been answered.

 

Gases billowed and fizzed as they whirled upwards towards freedom, the forward guard of the icy waters beginning to march steadily upwards.

 

Urged onwards and upwards, hastened by the force itself, the gasses raced on.

 

________________

 

In the warehouse, Leena’s query had little time to be answered. Just as the words left her mouth, the  tempestuous storm of vapors rushing upwards from the deepest depths found a place where shafts and worn vents interceded as one. From there, they surged upwards along being-made conduits, carrying the call of the dark presence, directed onwards towards the chaos that called above the din.

 

Sara, Mjan, and Leena had mere seconds before the vent grate below their feet blew upwards sending the three catapulting into the air and then back down towards the yawing hole of the floor’s vent. All around the warehouse the grates blew off, eliciting screams of fear and pain.

 

And above the din, throughout the cavernous warehouse a dark chilling disembodied voice spoke, “So you have heeded my signal, lord of darkness. Your sacrifices have just begun. Come to what you once deemed my place of eternal damnation that I may exact my revenge.” The voice seemed to center around Nok Morliss, not that anyone could tell, but it was focused on his dark presence, called to it by the chaos of the situation surrounding him.

 

The voice echoed on dark vibrations throughout the warehouse, but did not seem to go beyond; however the screams and cries for mercy as the refugees begged whatever supernatural deities they thought may have arrived did carry beyond the flimsy metallic walls of the yawning structure. Additionally, grates and manholes eithin a block radius, while a few seconds behind also burst with gaseous pressures, sending chunks of metal and duracrete into the air.

 

Far above, the sniper team watched in shock as they sent their rifle-cam recordings back to command, unsure of what was transpiring.

Edited by Leena Kil

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Nok felt the presence a split second before it exploded into the room. Or rather he “saw” it. Emanating from the vents, the Force twisted and writhed like a bug under a pin, only for the dark power to explode out an instant later, sending the vent grates flying in a rush of vapor.

 

All around him, something elusive slithered and spread through the air like tendrils, something that echoed with an audible voice.

 

On 4/13/2020 at 9:46 PM, Leena Kil said:

“So you have heeded my signal, lord of darkness. Your sacrifices have just begun. Come to what you once deemed my place of eternal damnation that I may exact my revenge.”

 

Well, that’s a fairly clear sign.

 

A small part of him preened at the title of “lord of darkness”. Flattery was one of Nok’s unfortunate weaknesses, but at least it was one he was usually aware of.

 

The entire warehouse was lit up with panic and terror, the equivalent of a sunny day on Cato Neimoidia for Nok. He was tempted to simply enjoy the new pleasure he found in the sensation, but the rational part of him was very aware that he was in a room filled with violent Jedi who'd just had a brush with the Dark Side. A fight here between him and them would barely qualify as a warm-up for these warriors, and Nok couldn’t go outside without getting shot or quarantined. Likely both.


He considered the nearest open vent.

 

It came from below...and it’s powerful. Powerful enough?

 

He stepped towards the grate.

 

Besides, that woman from the clinic is clearly siding with that Leena...who as it turns out is a Jedi as well, because why not? This blind man act was barely holding up before, and it’ll crumble the second she starts talking after that display. It’ll have to be enough, because my chances up here are getting slimmer.

 

He took another step towards the vent, but stopped in front of the droid.

 

“I’m leaving. Offer stands. If you think you can make it outside, then go ahead, but my offer just doubled,” he said as he pulled off two of his nova gem encrusted rings, “if you can get me to the source of that voice before getting me off planet.”

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Mjan Sadow iv-Adas

 

Mjan nodded his head in greeting, reaching out to turn the young Mon Calamari around to face him despite her emotions overwhelming her, a trait that he shared with her. This wasn't supposed to be the assigned mission he was given, but thanks the Force... and his Padawan, plans had now suddenly changed. But instead of reaching her form, his hand was intercepted by the rushing embrace of an ally to this Leena, causing his hand to recoil and a smile to cross his face. At least she had someone who cared enough to be there, and in times like this, it was severely needed. Briefly his gaze shifted out toward where Nia had stood, perhaps she only needed the same thing, a failure on his part, and briefly he doubted himself, wondering if he had truly been ready to become a Jedi Knight, to take on a Padawan, or if could truly be anything but what his nature made him. But Leena's query snapped him back to reality.

 

Captain Rose Vao (Nia)

 

Rose followed Nia and the Cathar outside, the slender Twilek capable of maneuvering the crowd swiftly, but unable to yell Nia's loud enough for the young Natuolan's name as she criss-crossed through the gathering crowds and among the infected. Mjan may have been willing to give the young girl her space, but Rose was hot-headed and she was intent on having the last word even if it meant going against Mjan's wishes. Yet, when she finally caught up to them, the Cathar was delving into a story, his injuries backing it up. And so she stood there, quietly amongst the crowd, listening.

 

But the more she listened, the madder she got. And before she could catch herself, she struck the sitting Cathar open handed, recoiling her throbbing hand as her gaze shot back and forth from him and Nia before settling on Nia alone, her eyes narrowed and furious. "How dare you?" She questioned rhetorically. "You have lived your entire life sheltered and safe, everything you know about the Galaxy from books you read and the few planets you visited. You know nothing of the stigma that Mjan carries with him.

 

"He is Sith, Nia." She points out rather obviously, unworried about the Cathar knowing or what repercussions she would endure for slapping the large beast. But she was here to make her point. "His kin are outcasts, traitors in hiding among their own people because they view a different outlook of the Force, a unified Force that is neither light nor dark." She sighed briefly. "And Mjan is a traitor in their eyes, disowned by his own father because he wanted to study under the Jedi and found himself among them.

 

"But he's still Sith Nia." Rose spoke, her anger fading slowly as she poured his story out to her because of how bull headed Mjan can be. "He fights to control his nature everyday, a nature that has darkened the hearts of his ancestors for thousands of millennia." She smiles at Nia. "And he's a soldier, torn between duties between his heart as a Jedi and his mind as a Lieutenant as well as his attachment to you, his Padawan. Nothing is ever black and white, and even the greatest of Jedi's had their struggles, especially during times of war."

 

Rose grabs her right arm, intending to turn away. "You do what you want, but don't judge someone you know nothing about." And so she does after saying what she had to say, taking a few steps back toward the warehouse when the ground spews forth and an ominous feeling grips her tightly, sending chills up her spine and raising her skin.

 

Mjan Sadow iv-Adas

 

As soon as Leena's words left her lips, Mjan's mind was wrecked with pain as the voice intruded it, causing Mjan to fall upon his knees in excruciating pain, the veins beneath his forehead bulging. It was all he could do to inhale and exhale air as his form sank upon the grate beneath them as he called upon the Force in an attempt to blow the two to safety as he was launched into the air, the smell putrid and noxious as it sprayed him in the face. Reaching out blindly, he beckoned saving as he felt a beam of the rafters above connect with his hand and when he was able to see, found himself dangling  above the open hole leading downward.

 

"What was that?" He questioned himself silently, feeling the ominous presence seeping from below, his gaze shifting toward Leena and Sara to insure that they were alright. "Are you two okay?" 

 

Letting go, Mjan swept the Force from below and caught himself, guiding himself down to safety as he shifted his gaze from them to the hole. "I suppose that answers your question, Healer Leena." He spoke, dread in his eyes. Grabbing his saber, he draws himself to the hole's edge and peers down into it's dark abyss. "Looks like I'm going down a dark hole. Great." He jokes half heartily with a sense of sarcasm. Reaching into his pocket, he comms Rose. "I'm going down to the next level. Don't follow. Keep an eye on Nia." And with that, he jumps. Whatever laid down there was dark, and it felt like it was calling him, almost as if it knew he was here. It could very well be the cause of this pandemic, and if so, it was his duty.

 

Captain Rose Vao

 

Rose looks toward Nia and Ro as the added chaos ensues, a grave feeling washing over her and the look upon her face giving it away. All around them, the sewer ways and manholes erupted almost in unison as if the seas themselves washed away everything beneath their feet. And then the familiar chirp of her comm unit being activated mere moments later as her gaze knowingly shift to Nia.

 

Turning it on, Mjan's message is played. "I'm going down to the next level. Don't follow. Keep an eye on Nia."

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Xar listened to the Nemodian’s offer, half excited at the thought of making so much money from such a simple job. However, he also remembered his purpose here. He wasn’t here to make a small fortune for himself. He was here on a job from Black Sun. Still, if Hamilton turned out to be dead from the disease or whatever, some money would help establish that Xar could make some profit out of a bad situation. 

 

That would prove to them. Xar mused to himself. 

 

Before Xar could answer however, the vents burst open. Loudly. If the crowd wasn’t already startled and on the verge of panicking, the voice definitely did not help. Xar heard someone scream how it was the end of times and began to beg to whatever forces out there to save them. If he wasn’t so focused on the voice, and the words it spoke, he would have mocked the beings in the warehouse. 

 

But what surprised Xar more was the fact that this Nemodian began to head for the nearest vent. What’s more, he did it without help. Xar realized there was much more to this being then met the eye. 

 

If this one is being addressed by that voice...perhaps he is the cause or the solution to this city’s maddness. Either way, we would be feared as a villain or worshiped as a hero…

 

Xar nodded to the Nemodian’s offer, which it had doubled. 

 

“You are wiser and more perceptive than you let on, Nemodian. Enough to warrant our presence in those...ugh, sewers. We agree to your deal. After all, what kind of being would we be to let a blind man wander alone.”

 

 And with that, Xar took the lead and began to head towards the vent. He had to push a few beings out of the way to make a clear path for himself and his charge, but at this point his curiousity was getting the better of him. Whatever was happening, Xar wanted to know. 

 

“Even if i...ugh...really, the sewers? Couldn’t it have been something more worthy of us?”

Xar peered inside, his eyes casting a light into the dark vents. The sound of running water was coming somewhere, as well as moving gases. 

 

“You, Nemodian…” Xar looked up at his charge. “That mask of yours better siphon out  gasses. Cause protecting you would become much more difficult if it didn’t.” 

 

And with that, Xar jumped down a few meters. He landed with a thud, his chassis calibrating the impact to prevent any damage. There was a squish. Xar looked down at what he landed on and gave out a sigh. Excrement. Of course. 

 

“Had to be sewers. How low we are lowering ourselves…” 

 

Xar looked around a bit, seeing if there was anything deemed threatening to him or his charge. His heat sensors picked up a few small carrion scavengers, but nothing deadly. 

 

“This way…” Xar motioned as the Nemodian climbed down. “The waste is flowing this way. Thus its flowing downwards. Thus...the voice most likely came from this way.”

 

And with that, Xar moved forward, grumbling about the waste at his feet was probably ruining his perfect shine. This Nemodian would definitely pay for an oil bath at the very least. 

 

“What is this voice anyways? And who are you? So we know who to send the bill to.” 

 

Down the way Xar suddenly saw a heat signature fall into the sewer (@MSA Mjan). It was humanoid, but at this distance, Xar couldn't tell who or what it was.  Xar held up a claw and stopped, observing the being. 

 

"We are not alone..."

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Sara held her smile for a few lingering moments and almost stumbled backward into the red-skinned tentacle face guy from before that she just realized was standing there. A slight rouge-like color darkened her cheeks for a flash before Sara stuffed the impulse back inside. 

 

"You're welcome," Sara replied, letting the awkward silence hang between the three of them like an unpleasant odor. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say, so much as she wondered if she was butting in on what had previously been a private conversation. And while she wasn't adept at social graces, she occasionally respected people's need for privacy.

 

A strong pop in the Zeltron's ear warned the alien of something bad just before a massive wave of chaotic emotion spewed upward from beneath the warehouse. It was so powerful that Sara thought she'd be brought to her knees and imperceptibly prepared her mind in response. But nothing changed. (Ever since the hospital, Sara had been biting her tongue and doing what she could to reign in any potential mental explosions -- After the destructive fallout of a burning building, it seemed important. She began to focus on the ambient emotion around her to drown out spikes in activity.) 

 

It was a nice reprieve from her usual lack-of-luck until the actual explosion of air and gas quickly followed and pushed her and the others sprawling into the air. Acting on impulse due to the numbing oversaturation of every other sensory trigger in her mind, Sara grabbed at Leena once more as the two of them tumbled through the air. She used Leena's mass combined with her own to drag them both out of the vent's yawning portal and down to the ground of the office nearby. 

 

In the chaos of it all, she could almost make out the evil monologue that echoed around them. As it was, the force of their spin made it sound like: "grphlhgfefeeffsdggfddf…" Which didn't sound like much of anything.

 

Sara twisted with Leena until they both crashed against carpeted durasteel with Leena on top and Sara on bottom. The Zeltron choked out a breath when her back met the metal surface with an unhealthy crack and half-expected to black out, watching her world spin rapidly around her. But her enhanced senses refused to go out. They gave Sara an unnerving amount of clarity regarding every motion and every thought as the pair sailed through the air and crashed on steel in a symphony of pain. Her alien body began to slowly mend itself; fibers sowing together, vertebrae resetting, and ribs clicking back into place at an achingly slow pace. She could feel all of it. It was torturous, like blades dancing in her skull. But she'd get over it.

 

Her brows knit as she made a conscious effort to mitigate the pain that wracked her feverishly chaotic mind. She looked up to Leena and offered a weak attempt at a smile, the corners of her mouth not quite making it all the way to the right spots.

 

"Y-you doing alright there, guppy?" Sara choked out as her trachea recovered from a number of bronchial lacerations. 

 

She looked over as the non-quarren tentacle-faced guy jumped down the evil hole in the floor. It didn't take much to assume where they were headed next. But Sara was going to need a moment before jumping down anything, especially an unknown doom hole.

Edited by Scorpion
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At this point, Ro was thoroughly confused. A random twi’lek woman had just slapped him. In fact, from the looks of it she had hurt her hand a little, too, doing just to do it.

 

Did she really just slap me?! What did I do? Who is she?!

 

Interestingly enough, it wasn’t often that someone managed to slap him. It was one of the random perks of to being unnaturally tall, even for a Cathar. Of course, there were also a lot of downsides like standing out in a crowd or buildings and cockpits clearly being sized with Bothans in mind instead of tall people. And then there was finding proper clothing and armor. He was short for a wookiee but too tall to be a stormtrooper. It was an awkward height to be, honestly, when he wasn’t trying to scare or intimidate people. 

 

So sure. He was clearly slappable in that moment. But why him and not a plethora of other buffoons present? Perhaps he had bumped into her in the crowd? She sure seemed to know Nia. 

 

Maybe she is with that devilish looking alien man?

 

In all honesty, he only had himself to blame for even being slappable. Had he not decided to sit down and meditate for a moment, it was doubtful she would or could have even attempted it. Still in a bit of shock, though, he made no attempt to unfold his legs or move from where he sat. But the violent little twi’lek had his attention now, at least once the shock of her actions started to all subsided.

 

She was on some sort of tirade when she it seemed that she accidentally let slip out that the devilish, "Mr. Tote’ma-Staff" was, in fact, a Sith. This was a shocking revelation, indeed. Probably something she would have been wise not to admit around a bunch of scared refugees, much less “two” Jedi.

 

Has the Nautolan really been serving under this man this long and not realized he was a Sith?! It would explain the lack of Jedi robes perhaps.

 

Ro was so caught up in the implications of all this that he was no longer really listening to the Twi'lek as she spoke.

 

“...outcasts, traitors in hiding...different outlook of the Force... Mjan is a traitor in their eyes...”

 

Ah! So that is Tote’s name? Mjan! And it would make sense, I suppose. Being a traitor if he was a Jedi and joined the Sith? Okay. But then why keep a Jedi as an ally or apprentice or whatever she is to him?! None of this makes any sense.

 

Of course, Rose's lecture was far from over. Paying better attention, Ro caught most of the rest of what she was saying over the din of the crowd. 

"But he's still Sith, Nia. He fights to control his nature everyday, a nature that has darkened the hearts of his ancestors for thousands of millennia. And he's a soldier, torn between duties between his heart as a Jedi and his mind as a Lieutenant as well as his attachment to you, his Padawan. Nothing is ever black and white, and even the greatest of Jedi's had their struggles, especially during times of war."

 

This was making even less sense all the time. Was he a Sith that had duties to the Jedi because he was a Lieutenant in the Alliance military? Was that even possible? Ro shook his head in confusion as he started to get to his feet. He knew it wasn’t probably his place to speak as he was technically eavesdropping. But he couldn’t resist.

 

Moving towards them, he interrupted, “Excuse me, Miss...”

 

And then came an unnatural rumbling, followed by panicked screams and the eruptions of manholes, sewer lines, and hydrants of all sorts. Water sprayed everywhere as Ro spotted a manhole cover wildly twirling in the direction of the two women. Breaking into a full sprint, Ro managed to just barely shove the two ladies out of the way as the coin-shaped cover. Spiraling like a flipped coin, the cover violently collided with the backside of Ro’s left shoulder and back. It was an intentional choice, of course, for Ro to use his good shoulder to absorb the blow. He figured it would be much less painful than using the side he had already landed on some time earlier. 

 

The moment the manhole hit him, however, Ro realized just how much he had miscalculated the object itself. Yes, his body did successfully absorb the manhole's momentum and ricochet it away from the ladies and others in the crowd. But the speed in which the manhole had sailed through the air made it look much lighter than it actually was.

 

Rocked by the impact, Ro was plowed head first into the ground and sent into a momentary tumble. A sharp, radiating pain exploded up from his upper back as if he had been hit squarely in the shoulder by a bolt of lightning! But before he could fully register the extent of the damage, Ro’s eruption of agony was abruptly followed by numbness throughout his extremities.

Face down, he tried to prop himself up with his arms but he couldn’t move them. In fact, he could barely feel anything outside of his physical form, currently gasping for breath. But he was not completely alone. There was also a familiar, encroaching darkness beginning to suffocate what was left of him. 

 

It was that rising feeling. The same panicked feeling that washed over him on Chandrilla. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t move. All sound around him had dropped to little more than a hushed buzz.

Am I even still conscious?

 

Truth be told, Ro had been practicing breathing techniques to control his anxiety ever since Chandrilla, especially after losing Rose Cariadus. She had promised him that he was not alone. But she had recklessly gotten herself killed and abandoned him. He was trying to do this without her, but look where that had gotten him. Everyone had left him. Durose, Victoria, Rose. Even the Jedi who were supposed to be Chandrilla’s saviors. He had been on his own for so long. This was nothing new.

 

Now, he was on his own once more. Ro could feel the writhing of his body, the body’s natural gasping and gagging reflex try to desperately keep him alive. But no air was coming. 

 

Instead, Ro finally felt a moment of peace in the silence. Honestly, he could best describe it as no longer being inside his own body. Like he was floating high above the warehouse and the city, watching as the little "ants" ran and screamed and panicked, showered with puddles of foaming liquid as they slipped and fell and squirmed and wriggled. He may have failed his mission. But now he could finally leave. It could finally be over. His suffering was at the end.

 

But as he floated higher and higher above it all, a familiar voice suddenly whispered into his ear, “Wake up...”

Hit by a sudden rush of adrenaline, Ro felt as if he was literally freefalling. Without warning, his consciousness came crashing back into his physical body with an agonizing burst of pain. Then, his lungs finally filled with air and his eyes instantaneously popped open. 

 

Ro silently cursed his genes. They just wouldn’t let him die. Not yet, anyway. He wouldn’t get off the hook that easily.

 

___
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The din in the warehouse was deafening and fear rose so heavily in the air it was almost palpable. The vents blown to the ceiling crashed down adding to the chaos, some of the heavy metal brackets smashing into refugees. Others clattered against walls and the floor.

 

In all of it, before Leena, Mjan, and Sara could continue their conversations they were blown into the air. Knight Mjan had tried to push Sara and Leena clear. It only served to send them arcing through the air instead of straight up. Leena twirled as she tried to hold onto Sara. The chaos around her pressed in on all sides and she could not even grasp what was going on. 
 

The next thing she knew, Leena landed atop Sara on the hard floor. She felt the wind leave the Zeltron’s body and she, Leena rolled off of her to the floor shocked; her brain trying to take in what had just happened. The lingering darkness from the dark chilling voice coated the walls feeding on the panic and pandemonium. Leena felt it, even if she had not heard exactly what the voice had said, and she recognized it. It was the dark side. And as she lay there on the floor, she heard Sara ask if she was ok. 
 

Leena smiled as she reached out to grasp the Zeltron’s hand at the same time reaching out on the force with a calming wave, finding the vestiges of it within her soul. It was second nature, and in this chaos, Sara was something familiar. Sara was a patient.

 

Rolling to a half reclined position, Leena placed her hand on Sara’s shoulder, “Better than you it seems. We guppies swim better than fly.” She smiled at her own attempt to crack a joke as she pushed out on the force in a tidal surge over Sara’s battered body. Waves of healing energy crackled like blue-green sparklers in the air and an aroma of salty fresh sea air wafted from the Apprentice Healer. Leena was seeking Sara’s wound, visible and invisible, it did not matter. When she felt them, Leena injected them with a pulse of healing energy, encouraging the girl’s natural healing abilities to kick into overdrive. When it was done, which had taken a few minutes, Leena pushed herself to her knees. “We better get up before we get trampled.” Her eyes looked out at the crowd trying to push their way out of the too few exits. They had one thing on their mind, a mob focus on securing their own safety, regardless of those who got in their way or who was left behind to die. “Besides, we ought to find you some Juju berry pie or something. Accelerated healing makes one hungry.” She offered a hand to Sara, helping her up whilst simultaneously looking for Mjan. A jedi knight was probably exactly what this situation could use. “Where did he go to?” She pondered aloud, her head scanning the quickly emptying room before her view settled on the blown away grating in front of the office. 
 

Somehow, she just knew, he had to go down there. Jedi didn’t follow the panicked masses, right? “Come on. Lets see if he went that way.” Leena offered an arm to help Sara walk towards a nearby vent and together jump down, right next to Nom and Xar. “Oh. Uh. Hello fellows. Did you, uh, happen to see a Jedi down here?  He was wearing, um, not Jedi robes.” Are you guys following the tunnel somewhere? Probably a faster way out than the doors, honestly.”

 

________________
 

Outside, the refugees pushed and shoved until the majority of them were fleeing into the streets. High above, the overwatchers radio’d in what they were seeing, their mounted cameras displaying the chaos that rose as manhole covers and grating rained down.

 

It did not take much, the command was already convinced that the offworlders had brought the diseased that was now ravaging their city. A quick order and the snipers were staring down their rifles at the Jedi amidst the crowd and opened fire. High velocity blaster bolts whizzed through the air peppering the crowd as they tried to take out the ‘Jedi’ and any offworlder that got in the way.

 

Overhead, the squadron of bombers began their final approach, orders adjusted once again. Bomb doors opened And instead of one single incendiary implosion warhead, 8 warheads were released.

 

The weapons armed as soon as they hit the moist ocean air. All it was take now is impact and the warehouse and 3 blocks in any direction would be vaporized in a cloud of fire and ash. The bombs whistled through the air as they approached from high above; not that they were noticeable over the screams of fear and panic as the refugees sought to find refuge from the hail of blasterfire from above.

 

The sniper teams were a worthy sacrifice as far as command was considered. All it would take was the right political spin and the city would not be letting any more offworlders in for the foreseeable future. The Quarren would finally be able to live in peace.

 

“45 seconds to impact . . . 44 . . . 43 . . . 42  . . . “

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Nok hissed in surprise as his foot slipped during the climb down the vent. He listened to the droid as they descended, getting a better impression of the machine’s personality. In the back of his head, the smell of the gas niggled at him. 

 

Where have I smelled that before?

 

On 4/16/2020 at 10:00 AM, Xar said:

“What is this voice anyways? And who are you? So we know who to send the bill to.” 

 

“Not sure, exactly. But I’m something of a collector of Jedi and Sith history,” he said, focusing on keeping his robe out of the way of his feet while he fabricated his story. “An amateur really. But when I heard there might be something like that here, I couldn’t help myself. Hobbies and all, I’m sure you get it. Plus, artifacts of the ancient Jedi are worth fortunes, and Sith artifacts even more so. Heard there was a plague and figured a nice charitable donation would get me on the planet, then I’d have all the time in the world to search while every other collector waited for the quarantine to end. Then I could sit around on a beautiful ocean planet sipping Correllian until I got cleared to leave.” Part of that was true. Neimoidians were notorious for being resistant to disease, though they carried them just fine. “As for the voice, like I said I’m not sure, but my studies have shown me that Sith love their macabre security systems.” Nok put a slight quaver in his voice as he continued, playing the part of the sheltered academic in denial. “I’m guessing that was an automated system of some sort trying to spook intruders, and it carried up the vents with that explosion of gas.” The lie sounded pathetic even to him, and he doubted the droid would buy it, and might not even buy that Nok believed it. Let him, the point here was to play a part, even if that was the part of someone hiding poorly behind another part.

 

Though seriously, where have I smelled this before?

 

“Oh wait, you asked my name. Jin Meer, nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but I’d hate to fa-”

 

He stopped as his feet touched solid ground. He hadn’t even seen it before he stepped onto it.

 

Or in it, he corrected morosely as his shoe squished.

 

Nok jumped as the Jedi from before, Leena spoke right next to him.

 

On 4/18/2020 at 10:13 PM, Leena Kil said:

“Oh. Uh. Hello fellows. Did you, uh, happen to see a Jedi down here?  He was wearing, um, not Jedi robes.” Are you guys following the tunnel somewhere? Probably a faster way out than the doors, honestly.”

 

Perfect, no pain or fear. Of course.

 

But that wasn’t it either, not entirely. He should still be able to see a little, even if only from his own mild fear. But the Force wasn’t still. It was...agitated, like water in a gently vibrating tub. It didn’t feel like it was coming from down below either. It felt like it was coming from above, in anticipation of something. The closest thing he could describe it as was an echo in reverse.

 

Nok extended his awareness, trying to grasp it, relying on his instincts and feelings with no formal training to fall back on.

 

It’s not hate, or anything else. No...it’s something else...where...wait, yes, back then.

 

Nok remembered the last sight he had ever seen with his own eyes. The serpent. The taste of its essence hanging in the air. The edges of its mind stirring the depths of the Force.

 

That’s what I’m feeling. The intent to kill. Yes! And...death. Death but not death. Death that...is waiting. Death that hasn’t happened yet.

 

Nok took a sharp breath as he realized he was sensing the future, even if only vaguely. That got him a lungful of the gas and he doubled over coughing, chest burning from the acrid vapor.

 

Then he remembered where he’d smelled this before.

 

It had been at a mine, his first cortosis mine, where he’d stupidly taken a deep breath and started hacking like he was now. The dirty, squalid miners around him had run for their lives as soon as they smelled what he had, ignoring their employer’s confusion and abandoning him to the thing they feared most.

 

The vent passage suddenly was lit clear as day as Nok’s dread surged out through the Force.

 

“Is that...Lethane gas?!”

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Xar didn’t believe the Nemodian’s words for a minute. A collector of artifacts? On Mon Cal? While he did buy that this being was probably some kind of academic, Xar knew better than to trust any kind of neimoidian, or insectoid for that matter. Even the rodians back on Rodia knew better than to trust neimoidians. Still, this neimoidian was rich and offered a hefty sum for Xar’s surprior assistance, so Xar played along for now. 

 

When the other individual dropped to the ground next to the duo, Xar’s instinct was to cut the being without mercy. It was only at the last second, his claw ready to slash at the thing’s throat, did he stop, recognizing the being.  

 

“Oh. Uh. Hello fellows. Did you, uh, happen to see a Jedi down here?  He was wearing, um, not Jedi robes. Are you guys following the tunnel somewhere? Probably a faster way out than the doors, honestly.”

 

“Karking son-of-a nerf herder... ” Xar swore, putting his claw back down. “That is none of your business, woman. As for your jedi…” Xar pointed down the tunnel where the other heat signature was. “Down there. Now get out of our…”

 

Xar stopped. His charge was coughing and possibly choking on the gas. 

 

“We warned you that there was some kind of gas down here.” Xar criticized, annoyed he again hadn’t been listened to. He looked at the mon cal, his red eye piercing the darkness.  

 

“You...you're a nurse. Help him, as recompense for scaring us, and for not helping us find Hamilton earlier. We don’t know what this...lethane gas is, but it seems to be having an adverse affect on Mr. Meer here…”

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Nia was lost. The sheer number of people who needed help here both proved her earlier points and overwhelmed her. She didn't know what to do. She didn't have the skill or the knowledge to help anything more than minor wounds right now. Nor did she have the presence or the authority to calm the masses or organize the first responders. When the Cathar caught up to her, she turned to face him. He was massive, but she wasn't afraid. If he was truly a Jedi she was in no danger, and if not, she'd be dead regardless. Still, the accusations gnawed at the back of her head and she watched him as he spoke.

 

"You let your fear control you, master Jedi. I fear catching this disease, I fear death. I fear being truly alone for the first time. But I brave them all in the name of what's right. This may be a trap. Or it may be that everyone is on edge and making extremely poor calls, like in that warehouse. Regardless, we have a duty to help them. Now, if you wish to join me I will not turn you away, but you must promise not to harm or to threaten anyone else."

 

Before he could respond, Rose arrived. She and Rose had gotten off on the wrong foot from the start, as regrettable as it had been. And it seemed to be a streak that wouldn't end here- she winced as Rose slapped the Cathar, and took a step back when the twi'lek wheeled around to face her. She took in the other woman's words- getting into an argument would do them no good. Nia had said what she needed to, and this was a consequence. Still, it stung that the pilot had seemed to miss her point.

 

And then things got chaotic again. At once, most of the manhole covers in the streets blew off with extreme force, and she spun around to see the Cathar dive in front of one to protect her. Blaster shots rang out from the buildings around her and civilians dropped to the floor, dead or injured, the screams mounting once again. Fear hit her in a nearly palpable wave as her tendrils picked up scents and pheromones, and she took a step back to steady herself.

 

Find peace. Find something to focus on.

 

She moved to the large cat's side, moving the metal plate off of him. Instinct drove her now. She held a hand over his chest- He was in pain. She could feel it, too. He was covered in injuries- She didn't know how he was still alive, much less how he was still diving in front of manholes.

 

The shoulder she could help with- she knew how to close wounds and how to heal them. The bones would be trickier- the fracture, maybe. But it would take time.

 

She looked at Rose, then at the buildings around her. She looked back at Rose.

 

She knew what she had to ask.

 

She hated it.

 

"Cover me?"

nnia.png

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Mjan Sadow iv-Adas

 

Darkness...

 

It seemed to seep everywhere he went, even within this drainage pipe he now found himself. The chaos above, the darkness lurking below, the entirety of the Galaxy at war, and the nature within himself he fought so desperately to rid himself of. It was woven into the very fabric of his life. And now his Padawan, even with good intentions, saw him as nothing but. Perhaps he was nothing but what she saw, trained to be a false hope of Light in the encompassing darkness, a soldier of misfortune destined to pretend to be something he wasn't. Or so these thoughts and doubts crossed his mind as he trekked the muck and feces, wallowing in his own self excrement as he wished the advice of Aira, his own Master, where she may have been.

 

Turning a corner, Mjan's gaze shifted about, his nose smelling the familiar scent of gas, whether it was from the waste he treaded in or another source, he wasn't quite sure. But he knew using his saber as a light source was pointless and possibly deadly. So instead, it remained strapped across his back as he ventured further downward. Whatever the voice that called, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before, even from his own ill gotten ilk. No it felt ancient, dangerous, consuming, as if its greatest joy was chaos simplicity, and it was powerful. And with the current chaos above, it was perfection for its hunger.... and that's when Mjan heard the chaos take a turn for the worst.

 

Captain Rose Vao

 

Chaos...

 

It simply escalated ever more as the manholes and grates began to rocket about the Cathar from earlier making a solemn attempt to speak just before he shoved her and Nia out of the way as one collided with his towering form. In that instance, Rose knew more than most the confusion and hesitation that Nia had been feeling all along as her form was flung across the lot's pavement with little friction to stop her until she finally slid to a stop, scrapes and maybe minor bruising being the worst of her sustained injuries. But as she achingly rose from her spot, shifting her gaze from Nia to Ro just seconds before shots rang out, something in the distance caught her attention and nearly turned her blue skin pale white.

 

Activating her personal shield and drawing her blaster, she drew the shield across her front and returned fire as best as she could in the direction of the snipers until she reached Nia and Ro, shielding them as best she could behind it and her, as she briefly shot her gaze back out into the distant seas. Sure enough she recognized the tell-tale signs of incoming propelled warheads coming right at the them and when she looked at Nia, there was horror in her face.

 

"There is no time." Rose blurted as she unclipped the active energy shield from her wrist and clipped it to the backside of Ro's belt, covering his form and leaving Nia and Rose briefly exposed. "Run Nia. Now!"

 

Mjan Sadow iv-Adas

 

Run....

 

That is exactly what Mjan did the second he heard the blaster shots begin, his mind only concerned for Nia and Rose as he turned away from the presence and aimed to return and help, hoping the two could hold on just long enough for him to reach them. The Force flowed around the Tsis Jedi like air, increasing his speed as his feet left waves behind in his wake, his mind hoping for the best and expecting the worse. But which turn did he make? Left or right? Panic was setting in and confusing his direction and he felt as lost as the day he left Krayiss II to locate the Jedi only to find Coruscant in flames and nearly destroyed.

 

It wasn't long ago, but had felt like a distant memory for quite some time now, when he first found the Jedi at Felucia in Coruscant's aftermath. It was there he met Aira, the Jedi that awaited his arrival at their temple and eventually trained him as a Jedi Padawan and inducted him in the Alliance Navy. And now he was a pilot and a Jedi Knight with a Padawan of his own, one that he did not feel like failing a second time. His brow furrowed as he tried to shake the doubt and anguish from his mind, attempting to focus his thoughts and find them through the Force, hope filling his heart.

 

But it was brief, that moment of hope as he finally found Nia and Rose's presences within the Force, the strong desire to help found in his Padawan despite the fear she felt, causing Mjan to smile with a humble sense of pride. But Rose's presence was filled with hidden horror masked by urgency to depart their vicinity as quickly as possible, causing the smile to leave Mjan's face as the reality behind her horror filled his own. Was it true? It felt so. Could they truly go through with it? There was no doubt.

 

Just as Mjan turned the last corner, he came face to face with Leena and Sara from before, the horror and sadness of what he felt from Rose emanating from him so vibrantly that it took no questions asked as he slid to a stop and grabbed the Mon Cal by both shoulders. "Come. We need to go as deep as we can as fast as we can." His gaze shifted toward her companions, his golden gaze filled with the horror that emanated. "Now."

 

Captain Rose Vao

 

Horror....

 

Rose was almost shivering with it when she felt the subtle but warming touch of Mjan's presence upon her own as she fired another round, nearly clipping one of the snipers and causing the Quarren to take a brief moment of cover, and giving Rose and Nia that same brief moment to get Ro up. Adrenaline was pumping through her form as fast as her heart was beating as she gazed into the Cathar's eyes with sorrow before she lifted the towering beast up onto his feet and wrapped his arm around her and motioned for Nia to do the same as she grew close to his pained side. There wasn't a moment to lose.

 

Tears strolled from her eyes in secret as she lead the three into the chaotic masses, feeling the pain of each death as if it was one of family or crew, knowing she was leading them to slaughter by her, Nia, and Ro's presence and tell-tale energy shield painting a target upon their backs. But it was the only way she could keep her promise to Mjan. It may have been wrong, and Nia may never forgive her. But it was the only way and a regret she could live with no matter the outcome. There wouldn't be any time to get low enough in the sewers with Ro in his condition, at least before.....

 

3....2....1..... 

 

Just before the explosion hit, Rose felt as if she almost knew the moment of detonation, her reaction to push Ro onto Nia and both just barely out of harm's way as the heat flashed against her back and she stumbled forward, her arm reaching out to Nia and Ro. Pain wrecked her body only for a brief moment as tears of pain and anguish flooded her face, and after a moment, it fleeted, as her head fell forward and revealed the ash riddled backside of her burnt corpse. And in that moment, Rose smiled. Nia was safe, alive, and her promise kept. And the only sadness that remained was that of leaving her Lieutenant behind along with her crew, their last mission incomplete.

 

Mjan Sadow iv-Adas

 

Sadness....

 

It gripped Mjan as he realized that he wouldnt be able to reach Nia and Rose in time, and it shown through even the horror filled look he gave Leena and the others as he led them downward. He could only hope that they would be safe as the horror of the shots rang out even down here below. And so, he put up a brave and silent face, turning a corner that led them down toward the lower levels and toward the presence emanating below, toward the voice that called up from within the deep. In silence, Mjan kept a subtle eye upon his Padawan and Captain despite the pain inflicting his mind as each death and the pain that Rose and Nia felt emanated through his connection to them until...

 

Mjan stopped just before an explosion rocked the levels above, grasping at his heart with disbelief. It felt as if his heart had stopped, a crippling realization grasping at his very soul. He didn't move, couldn't breath, and all he could do in that moment is exist. He felt it. Rose was dead. His Captain, his beloved. And in that moment, Mjan simply collapsed, falling to his knees as hundreds of deaths were blinded to his ears by a singular death so dear. His fists gripped tightly beneath the sewage he sank into, he could do nothing but ache.

 

"No." He whispered. 

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With a dark flicker against the familiar stars of the Mon Calamari Home system, the leading elements of what was being called a ‘Peacekeeping Expeditionary Force’ by the brilliant minds in the sith media, emerged over the homeworld of the aquatic shipbuilders. The black ships, and their familiar dark wedges cut scything shadows against the close packed stars, and their signatures filled the command displays of any home defense force that the Mon Cal’s may have mustered. The dangerous black fleet billowed forth fighters in wave after wave, until hundreds of the mass produced fighters formed a protective screen around the command ships. 

 

Onboard the main command ship of this task force, the Terminus, great mechanical beasts of Juggernauts, AT-STs, and the smaller and more agile AT-PT were getting loaded into their drop ships. Mechanics moved like buzzing flies from dropship to dropship, checking and triple checking tie downs and engine cowlings, while stormtrooper companies ran to their compartments, following the darting lines of mousedroids. It was much the same in the secondary hangar bay where Darkhand was based. Soldiers and commandos stood in long lines, toes against the dark decking joiners. 3,400 men and women stood there, backs straight at attention. Helmets in the crook of their arms, staring towards the huge circle of NCOs and COs who were outlying drop plans on large dry erase holo boards. 

 

There were no speeches to be given to the men. This wasn’t a holofilm, and there were no heroes. Just thousands of nervous men and women, ready to die for something they did not even know. Many were happy to be here. To crush terrorism and the jedi that caused it, was a dream of the galaxy for a generation. Perhaps this time there would be peace. But all of them were sure that they were here for a good reason. Mini briefings had laid out the situation. The Sith were there as a peacekeeping force to fight terrorism and to continue a quarantine that the Jedi were busy breaking. The fleet? Well it was here as a guarantee. It was a guarantee that the Mon Calamari and the Quarren, who were known to be a stubborn people at the best of times and Rebel leaning at the worst of times, would accept the aid of the Sith Empire. 

 

They needed it after all. For who was better at containing Jedi? 

 

Delta held up large packets of holo prints to the NCOs, enough to issue to each sergeant at least in the case of a comms down situation. He pulled an example of each before handing them off. 

 

“Men.” Here he used the male wording, though most of the NCOs were actually women, but this was the military and that was acceptable. He held up the first of the Holo-stills, a grainy image of a RHTC-560 Hunter Trainer droid. It looked exceedingly dangerous and bristled with terroristic intent. “First we have this lovely thing. Then this.” He held up an even grainier still of a green faced Nautolan female. She was rather cute, but in the non descript alien way. “The first of what I believe are the Jedi Knights or their apprentices.” He tapped the image of the young girl. “Intelligence would very much like us to capture the younger ones for interrogation, but use your best judgement. It's better that you get a reprimand, or I do, then you go home in a box. Now here is a real treasure.”

 

He held up the relatively clear holo still of a red faced Sith. “Sith intelligence is trying to ascertain what exactly this is. A body will suffice for ID. Put down from a distance.” He shuffled through the rest of the holo stills. A young Jedi of the Mon Cal race, A large Cathar male A Zeltron female. On this last he issued the normal warning, despite Sigrid Hensi’s grin. “Make sure to not take your mask off around the last one. Zeltron are notorious for their wiles. Don’t give them any advantage.” He looked from eye to eye as he handed out the last set. 

 

“Objective is the city of Morjanssik. We will meet there. And men.” He gave them a salute. “May the force be with you.”

 

It was a rebel phrase of course, but his men needed all the help they could get, and as he watched them dash to their waiting companies he whispered a prayer. 

 

_____________________________________

 

Spoiler

 

Sith Naval Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]

Taskforce Experience Green

- Assigned Callsign - 

Grave

Imperial Kyber Class Star Destroyer Terminus |20/20|

Commanded by Lord Girk Doma the "Devilfish" of Sith Naval Intelligence

 

Sith Naval Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]

Taskforce Experience Green

- Assigned Callsign - 

Devil

Sith Victory II Star Destroyer Brimstone|9/9|

Sith Victory II Star Destroyer Hellkite |9/9|

 

Sith Naval Precision Strike Carrier Group

Taskforce Experience Green

- Assigned Callsign - 

Beast

Raider-class Corvette Cretan |2/1|

Raider-class Corvette Greetham |2/1|

Raider-class Corvette Heliotrope |2/1|

Phantom

Raider-class Corvette Crusader |2/1|

Raider-class Corvette Somerset |2/1|

Raider-class Corvette Theodocia|2/1|

Ghoul

Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer Acheron |9/9|

 

 

 

Spoiler

 

DARKHAND BRIGADE

General Staff

Command: Delta73

Executive Officer: Tares Blacktorin (Black Sun XO from Lima One) 

Command Sergeant Major: Jansen Trefey (Sith Sergeant from 31st Lion company(Company destroyed at the battle of Coruscant)) 

Intelligence Officer: Sigrid Hensi (Black Sun Lieutenant from Lima One) 

Operations officer: Haylee Langraf (Black Sun Lieutenant from Lima One) 

Logistics Officer: Gerald Frostwin (Black Sun Lieutenant from Lima One) 

Sith Intelligence: Lord Garik Doma "Devilfish" (Sith Lord , Onderon) 

  Hide contents

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delta.png.07cab12ec6078bf5996b620866fba993.png

Ca'Aran

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