Concord Dawn

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"It was," she remarked as she began to take a rag and clean some of the parts they’d disassembled. She was silent for a few minutes before she gave more of an explanation. “Higher-level soldiering, marksman, and survival training all within the wonderful luxurious warmth and comfort Tatooine has to offer. I made it through ‘having met or slightly exceeded all the parameters’ they set before me,” her tone had taken a turn for the sardonic. “I’d rather not talk about the rest."

 

She sighed, offering him a small smile. "Though, I did get some pretty up close and personal reminders that not everyone is cut out to do what we do. It only highlights the need for us to do what we can for those that can’t or shouldn’t when it comes to defending our home and families.” She set down the piece she was working on and started on the next. “Came back with some improved and new skill sets as well as a new set of allies. Can’t really ask for more than that, can you?”

[Moon Knight]

"You're right," he answered. "People like us are rare... which is why we need to be active in finding places where we can help."

 

He stopped working for a moment, considering his next words as he transitioned subjects to another one he'd wanted to discuss with her and was particularly not about Bialle and Morveth. "I've thinking about what I'm going to do... after all this, assuming we are eventually able to bring down whoever's behind it," he said. "CoreSec was fine for finding targets some of the time, and I'm glad I got to be a part of putting Ar-Pharazon away. But you know how I feel about red tape -- it only really obstructs justice if the agents are trustworthy."

 

Kandor resumed screwing in one of the replacement parts. "What would you think if I told you I'm considering founding a new organization? I have about ten million credits and a trillion-credit space station in the Enigma. It would be for people like us, people who are willing to fight for a cause because we feel morally compelled to do so. Maybe we pay the bills with on-the-level government bounty hunting jobs and information trade, but the real purpose once it becomes sustainable would be to gather intelligence and act on it for the betterment of the droten, in whatever capacity we can manage."

 

He made a look of distaste. "That makes it sound like I'm trying to be the protagonist of some kind of child's holodrama, doesn't it?" he said with a laugh. "The mysterious masked vigilante Moon Knight swooping down out of the night to put away evildoers when the local law enforcement is left confounded."

 

It was a point he couldn't really counter himself. Maybe it was naïve to think that such an organization could exist and pay the bills. Or maybe he wasn't the only beroya in the oyu'baat that had made his credits and now wanted to invest in a certain brand of philanthropy that put to use the skills that had gotten him to where he was.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Despite herself, Mirdala laughed. “It does, but it doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. I’m sure you’ll find more than a few that might be willing to join you.” She reassembled the components she’d been cleaning and handed him the part. “Are you sure you want to open up Enigma to the wider galaxy?”

 

She wasn’t sure why, but part of her wasn’t quite ready to give up the location of one of the few havens she felt she had from the rest of the galaxy and it surprised her that he’d been seriously considering the idea. Then again, he had been the one to bring Eris on board. Shaking her head, as though to try and shake her own doubts away, she took the part back from him and set it on the table behind her before embracing him tightly, despite the grime and grease.

 

The weight of everything before them seemed an endless field of obstacles to navigate before bringing his idea to fruition seemed a reality. Still, in his arms, she found her calm in his steadiness and memories of her mental conversations with the part of him that stayed with her came to the forefront of her mind.

 

Trust in yourself and trust in me. The Manda brought us together for a reason. Trust that things are unfolding as they should.

 

“I trust you, Kandor. The station doesn’t matter. What does is what we do now to get past all of this to set it up." She relaxed her embrace, but didn't let him go just yet. "Like what we're going to do about this bounty hunter, for example. We both know there are two different bounties out on Force Users, how do we know it's not one of those? He somehow knows that I survived and possibly that I'm Force-Sensitive, so what makes you think that it's more than that? If he knew you were with us on Abraxos, then he may have guessed enough to be willing to say anything to distract you to get the upper hand."

 

Her own instincts told her his suspicions were likely correct, but she wasn't quite willing to acknowledge or begin to guess what that might mean.

[Moon Knight]

He returned her embrace. There was a lot of work in what he was proposing, but he wasn't daunted as long as she was his partner. Mirdala had come to matter so much to him that all the problems and struggles he could ever sign himself up to bear were almost footnotes on his psyche, drowned out by the great good that she had come to be for him. Kandor Fett was not an emotional man -- his usual approach was to carefully appraise everything he felt and decide whether or not he should be feeling it, and whether it hurt his ability to do what he demanded of himself. But when it came to her, that method was useless. It had taken his whole life to realize it was okay to simply enjoy moments like this.

 

"You may be right on both accounts," he said. "Maybe my read of Viba is just a hunch. Let's be extra careful for a while just in case. Whatever his reasons, he is clearly very dangerous, and we don't know who else might be looking for you, if he and Fieyr weren't enough.

 

"As for the Enigma, I agree that it's the best, safest place in the oyu'baat we have to fall back on. But if we're careful, it will remain that way and more. We'll need to be able to trust the people we bring aboard. And part of me can't help but feel it's going to waste sitting empty for so long, like we'd be selfish to let it fall into disuse on account of wanting to maintain exclusive access to it."

 

He shrugged. "Thoughts for another time, perhaps. I think we've done about all we can on the combine. When's the last time you ate?"

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

It was after dinner before anyone broached the subject of how to handle the news about the bounty. Not surprisingly, it was Vy'ika as he stretched and asked when they were going to talk about the bantha in the room.

 

 

"Which one?" Mirdala shrugged from her spot on the couch, resting against Kandor. "The one for me as a Force User dead or alive? The one for me as a Force User dead? Or this private one?"

 

 

"You know which one he means, Mirdala," Rhys said casting a glance towards his brother.

 

 

"And it's yet another thing to deal with that I'm choosing to not loose any sleep over. Yes, I'll be extra cautious, but how do we know it wasn't something Viba said to keep all of you worried about protecting me instead of tracking down him or Fieyr? I'm not staying under house-arrest."

 

 

"No one is suggesting that Dika," TeVerd interjected. "And, no. We have little evidence either way. It doesn't mean we should just dismiss it."

 

 

"He just wants me out of the fight and the rest of you distracted by one more thing, as though there wasn't enough going on in the present environment," Mirdala looked over to Viscount who was quietly observing the exchange. "What's your opinion?"

 

 

"What are your instincts really telling you?" He questioned back meeting her eyes levelly.

 

 

She sighed, truly believing it was impossible for the spy to answer a direct question. "That he is a threat at the very least, but it seems anyone outside the family and a few of our trusted friends is at this point, so that doesn't really tell me much."

 

 

"You've been quiet, Kandor." TeVerd looked at him and gestured. "What's your opinion on the matter?"

[Moon Knight]

Kandor considered. "We're all here because we're willing to fight and we've accepted the risks, and no one person will scare us into hiding," he answered. "Viba has proven himself a credible threat and he has potentially dangerous knowledge, however... enough that I think it's worth taking reasonable steps to make Mirdala more difficult to find while we can afford it."

 

He looked at Rhys. "We're still a ways out on the Abraxos data, right? Unless Taen manages to get a lead from one of the rogue Protectors, there's nothing that says Mirdala has to stay in the Sector, where people would expect her to be."

 

Glancing at Mirdala, he shrugged. "Maybe we find something low profile to do for a while somewhere else until the data is ready for us to plan our next move. Keep the heat off until then." Maybe that Hapes lead could work out, he realized.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Rhys nodded, "Still vetting some leads, but nothing too pressing on the horizon."

 

Mirdala turned to look up at him, not quite liking the idea of having to remain on the sidelines longer than she had already.

 

Picking up on her emotional spike TeVerd was quick to add, "Don't worry about your Seeker training. The ghosts aren't bound by the sector and will likely continue your testing wherever you go."

 

Mirdala opened her mouth to object when her comm blinked, interrupting her. Curious as to who would be reaching out to her directly when the most likely candidates were in the room with her, she glanced down at the code identifier. "It's Aunt Laesha," she remarked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she rose to take the call, moving to the kitchen out of deference to the others.

 

It wasn't that it would have been that unusual for Laesha to reach out to her. They were family, after all. It was more the hour and uneasy feeling that came with the call that distressed her. "Hi Laesha. What's wrong?"

 

I know you might be rusty, but I need your help. Tannae's gone into labor and none of her sisters are here to help. She needs another empath to help calm her. Taen mentioned you'd returned.

 

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Mirdala ended the call and returned to the others.

 

"Laesha needs me. Tannae's baby is coming. We can sort this out later."

[Moon Knight]

Kandor got up from where he'd been sitting. "I should go with you," he said, a bit grimly.

 

It was a little bit of an awkward situation. He never wanted Mirdala to feel smothered by him or any of the others, and didn't want to play bodyguard, but things had gotten dangerous enough that none of them could travel alone safely, and taking Viba's threat seriously meant it was especially so for her. It made it a bit worse that he wouldn't be of any use in the actual situation, having been far removed from such things for quite a long time. Now, he could remember a few Moon Knights who'd had experiences with such things, but given the choice between the two, he would rather perform emergency first aid on a gaping battlefield wound than assist with a delivery, and neither was very pleasant.

 

But it was what it was. Everyone would just have to be aware of operational security for a while.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

To his surprise, Mirdala merely nodded. “I was actually going to suggest the same thing. If we’re going to potentially looking at doing something low-profile out of the sector we’ll need a plan.” She held up her hand. “I’m not keen on the idea, but we should at least have something in our back pocket. It’ll give you something to work on while I help Laesha and Tannae."

----------------------

It was just before dawn, when Mirdala made her way back to the cabin on the opposite side of the property from the main stead. “A boy,” she announced wearily when Kandor stirred as she sat on the edge of the bed. She'd changed clothes and her long hair was down and still damp from having got in a quick sanisteam.

 

“I honestly think that was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, Seeker Trials included." She yawned, slipping between the blankets before explaining further. "Tannae and her child are both fairly strong empaths, so things go a lot more smoothly if there's another one present to help bleed off some of the excess energy and stress. Vannae's not empathic, and my aunt certainly isn’t. Reska's strong, but doesn't have the temperament for it. I don’t think I’ve ever helped process that much raw emotion before that wasn't my own.” Despite her words, there was a pleased, but tired, smile on her face.

 

“I’ve assisted deliveries with my mother before, but this was my first time with another empath. I’m just glad I got back in time. Reska wouldn’t have been much use…” she rolled on her side to face him. “It did give me some time to think about things though…If you think we should go, let’s go. The harder we can make that kinslayer’s job,” she yawned, "the better...”

[Moon Knight]

He smiled at her as came to and saw that she'd come around to the idea. It wasn't easy asking her to compromise on this when he knew if it was his own safety everyone was concerned about he would be just as quick to balk at the idea. Not to mention he wouldn't want anyone to feel the need to keep an eye on him, especially when he'd been working solo, making enemies, and sleeping with one eye open for years.

 

"I have to admit, I already had something in mind when I brought up the idea," he confessed, rolling onto his back. "Came across some news from the Hapes Consortium of all places. Politics there are always a mess, but now a known killer is vying for office and what Isolder knew about the guy makes Viba look like a Caamasi in comparison. We can talk about it some more after you've gotten some nuhoy, but I just know if Isolder got the news he would head over there immediately to investigate and I find myself agreeing that some good can be done there by the right person."

 

Kandor repositioned back onto his side. "We might just be moving away from one danger and towards another, but at least no one will be looking for us."

 

Until we do something to piss them off, he added mentally. There was no mistaking what Isolder would do -- he would go with the express intention of killing Thane. Fett would postpone his judgment until he got a better look at the situation, but part of him suspected the Blademaster's solution would save lives.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Several hours later she woke, but Kandor was no where within the cabin. Trusting her instincts, she walked over to the main house finding him easily once she walked through the back door into the kitchen. The high-pitched yawl of a newborn could be heard from upstairs over the sound of the eggs and meat frying as he, Reska and Vannae worked.

 

“Good to see you’re awake, Mird’ika,” Vannae said as other woman entered.

 

“No worse for the wear. How are Tannae and the little guy?” Mirdala opted to grab a piece of fruit out of the bowl having not eaten much the night before.

 

It was Reska that answered, “She’s adjusting. Both are actually. Mom’s up with them now checking on things. Probably why he’s screaming. Doesn’t like to be cold. Much like someone else I know…”

 

“Not my fault I grew up in the jungle and can’t stand what passes for normal around here,” Mirdala teased her older cousin back. “Mind if I steal Kandor back? We’ve got some things to finish discussing.”

 

Reska cast Vannae a knowing look and shrugged. “He’s all yours. Thanks for the help."

 

Mirdala rolled her eyes and headed back outside and waited for Kandor to join her. "Laesha doesn't expect either of us to stay long. She knows most everything else we've got going on," she informed him as he caught up with her on the trail between the main house and the cabin. "I told her that we had a lot of leads to chase from our raid on Abraxos. I decided to leave the parts about Viba out of it."

 

She yawned again. "I remember you saying something about going to Hapes and thwarting some grand conspiracy scheme last night, but I'll admit to dozing off about mid-way through. Is this from one of the previous Moon Knights?"

 

Her tone grew concerned as she remembered what he'd told her of completing some of the other Moon Knight's unfinished business to isolate them when they'd attempted to take over his mind. She knew it had ultimately been a RAGE induced episode, a remnant of a battle Fett had fought against one of the galaxy's great evil men, Vladimir Faust. Some of the toxic drug had managed to work it's way past Fett's suit's systems and seals to take root in his mind, triggering the Moon Knights to band together to defend him. It had taken a lot of help from a strong Force User - the jury was still out on which of the two major philosphies she subscribed to - named Eris, Kandor's sheer force of will, and Mirdala's own involvement to purge the RAGE from Kandor's system.

 

Part of Mirdala wondered if it had all truly been expelled. Faust was known for his patience and playing the long and calculated game. RAGE was his own, personal creation. Mirdala wouldn't have put it past the man's inventions to have multiple fail-safes. She stopped him with her hand just short of the clearing with the cabin. "You are sure you're feeling alright?"

[Moon Knight]

Kandor's searching look broke into a relieved smile when she voiced her concern. "Isolder's memories are the reason I know something is amiss there, but there's been not a stirring of sedition among these old ghosts," he said. "In fact, they continue to be silent even through visions."

 

He leaned against the cabin wall. "Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be a grand conspiracy," he continued. "I'd just like to get inside, look into what this ex-con Ranos Thane is up to, and see if we can keep his opponents alive until the political process runs its course or we can implicate him and put an end to whatever scheme he's running."

 

He shifted a bit. "Assuming you're interested," he added. "Not looking to drag you into Moon Knight business, particularly on Hapes, if you're not. I'm sure there are plenty of other things we could do until the Abraxos leads solidify."

 

It still seemed so far from the current aliit matters that it almost didn't feel like Hapes was a real place with real people they should care enough about to risk getting involved, and Fett had been working this case only for a couple months. But maybe the change of pace and a fresh problem would be good for both of them. This was in many ways Fett's first step towards his proposed future career -- acting on intel to get involved in a place where he saw an opportunity to help people.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

"I dragged you into all of this didn't I?" She gestured wide with her arms. "It's hard to leave with everything I feel I should be helping with right now, but I know I'm of better help to the others by removing myself and the perceived target on my back out of the sector. At least with you, I'd be doing something productive instead of holed up on Enigma twiddling my thumbs until I exploded of boredom."

 

"Besides," she crossed the room and kissed him briefly, "We're partners. As long as you'll let me, I don't mind making Moon Knight business my business."

[Moon Knight]

He gave a nod of satisfaction, glad again that they were partners and that she could place the overall operation above her desire for consistent personal involvement. "I don't like leaving it unfinished, either, but there's so little intel to act on right now I've spent more time doing farming and personal research than advancing the cause this last month," he said.

 

The two of them went back inside and said their farewells to Laesha, Reska, Tannae, her riduur, Vannae, and the newborn, then headed back over to the Delavvo farm where they'd been staying. Kandor only gave TeVerd, Rhys, Viscount and Vy'ika the very basics of where they'd be going -- "looking into a political incident in the Hapes Consortium" -- and both parties promised to update the other if something major happened. The Hapes Cluster was actually fairly close to the Mandalore Sector in the galactic sense, only a few hours in hyperspace, so they would be close by if needed.

 

They hung around for a couple more hours, packing and getting prepared, but before long they loaded everything onto the speeder, took it over to the T'add Kebbur, and set out on their next journey.

[Moon Knight]

The T'ad Kebbur, an aging but refurbished CEC HWK-290, popped out of hyperspace after the short jump from the Hapes Consortium. The two Mando'ade aboard had been there for less than two weeks and now they would be barred from ever returning due to the wishes of the Queen Mother herself. Despite that banishment, however, Kandor considered the operation to have been successful -- they'd gotten in, established cover identities, researched three candidates that were being considered for a political post, prevented multiple assassination attempts and pulled back the shroud that was covering the assassin's employer. They'd protected and saved the lives of several while enacting political change that would benefit the droten of Hapes.

 

But that fight had seemed almost a diversion from the surmounting troubles in the Mandalore Sector, and even though Fett was glad he and Mirdala had spent some time together doing some good in another place, he was also glad to get back to this fight. There were still a lot of questions -- who was behind the Kyr'tsad beroya Judyc Viba and the Ageless hybrid Fieyr in their crusade to wipe out the Seekers? Were the same people behind Bialle and the other rogue Journeyman Protectors? Even former associates of Mirdala's buir Jorbe had been hunted down. Was this a personal matter, or was it part of a greater struggle?

 

It seemed some of the answers might be close. When they'd raided the installation on Abraxos, they'd been ambushed by Viba and Fieyr but had managed to steal heavily encrypted and corrupted data. Since then the Omicrons had been hard at work extracting actionable intel from it, and it seemed now those efforts had finally resulted in a lead almost three months later.

 

Presently Fett set the ship down at the spaceport in the capital city of Dawn, wearing the refit backup beskar'gam Mirdala had made for him, minus the buy'ce. They didn't really know much about the situation in the city, so he figured it was a safe bet to wear the armor. Part of him was just glad to have the beskar on him again, he had to admit, particularly after receiving an injury on Hapes from an attack that the metal would have handled like nothing. The wound had thankfully healed very well in the last 48 hours, and now he was just a bit sore when he stretched his abs but otherwise good as new.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Verdeyuii had been keeping watch for the T'ad Kebbur from within the shadows of the spaceport cantina. Two massive hounds rested at his feet - one snow white, the other raven black - also waiting with anticipation for the arrival of the CEC HWK-290 cruiser. He'd just finished his drink when he saw the ship making it's approach to the landing pad. Swiftly, he rose, the two sand hounds trotting along beside him. The others at the space port gave him a wide berth, as he walked with grim purpose towards the ship as the ramp lowered, the wind stirring his cloak and hood as he approached.

 

Mirdala stopped short, just inside the ship as she noticed his approach, noting his full battle gear and the edge to his empathic signature. "What is it Vy'ika?"

 

"Not here. Hope you're stocked because you two won't be getting off. We need to leave. Now." There was coldness to his voice she wasn't used to hearing. Sensing her hurt at the harsh welcome, he shook his head. "I promise to fill you in. I'd just feel safer doing it en route."

 

Mirdala knelt to pet the dark hound, who licked her face affectionately, but nodded to her brother. "As you think best. I've got some things to discuss with you as well." She rose as the ramp closed behind them, heading towards the cockpit, closely followed by the black-furred hound.

 

"Don't tell me you two came back married," he asked, removing his helmet. She couldn't tell from his tone or his signature if he was joking with her or not. She did feel a lot of anger from him though, however she knew it wasn't remotely related to the subject of her and Kandor's relationship.

 

Her eyes narrowed at him, "No...though it's hardly your business if I had."

 

He looked her up and down and sighed, "True enough Vod'ika. Though I feel I should remind you to be wary of how close to the surface you keep those feelings. Hapes didn't exactly escape our notice and there's no telling if whoever is seeking to collect that seemingly-untraceable bounty on you was able to pick up on it. Or your ex-bestie Fieyr." He opted not to tell her about the plans that had been made for their forcible extraction from the Consortium if it had become a necessity.

 

Ultimately he hugged her briefly before poking his head in the cock pit and nodding Kandor over to the co-pilot's seat, leaving Mirdala to secure the hounds.

 

"You sure you're fighting-fit?" He asked Kandor quietly, so Mirdala couldn't hear. While he hadn't know the extent of the injury Kandor had suffered, he could tell that it had been serious enough to make his sister fear for Kandor's life. "This isn't going to be a cake walk, and I need to know that you are up to the task. Not saying you won't be welcome, just need to make sure your team knows how far you can be pushed right now so we can compensate." Vy'ika began setting the departure sequence for space.

[Moon Knight]

Kandor moved over to the copilot's seat when indicated, restarting the engine sequence since they wouldn't even be setting foot on Concord Dawn soil. The ship hadn't even finished shutting down yet, so they didn't have to run through the full flight checklist before they would be ready to take off again.

 

"Bit of lingering stiffness, not enough to seriously slow me down," he answered, knowing it wouldn't help anyone to hide the truth. "Another day or so and I should be back to one hundred percent."

 

He regarded the other verd carefully, trying to get a read on him. He seemed to have a bit of an edge to him, showing a bit of stress. That was unusual for Vy'ika, at least in the time Fett had known him, which probably meant things were getting bad in the sector. On one hand, he was glad they'd away from the trouble for a bit if indeed there was a target painted on Mirdala's back; on the other hand, he hated the idea of hiding as much as she did and he wondered if they could have done some good by remaining here to fight. Ultimately, the important thing was that they were here to fight now.

 

Fett put in the departure request with the spaceport mere minutes after having received their docking confirmation. He was looking forward to the briefing.

[Mirdala Ad'Goran]

Vy’ika nodded then checked to see Mirdala walking back into the cockpit from securing the hounds folding down the jump seat and strapping herself in as the ship began to lift off towards space.

[Cythera Anora]

Heart racing; crimson hair flailing.

 

Breaths shallow; head matted with sweat.

 

I don’t remember where my buy’ce is. Kriff…

 

Twin DE-10 pistols swing into view. One shot. Two shots.

 

The blistering red energy ripped through flesh and sent assailants toppling to the gritty metal plating.

 

Her feet pounded the durasteel to close distance. Target’s neck is exposed; punch to the throat; a kick to the kneecaps. Finally, one vicious sweep of the leg to bring them all down.

 

One down.

 

Two down.

 

Three down.

 

The symphony of blasters that heralded her approach, followed her through the streets. Her mind hesitated on the faces of her fallen brothers and sisters to ignite the adrenaline that led her feet. But she couldn’t afford to stop. The Venus had to be here somewhere. It was the only thing that kept her moving since Nar Shadaa. That, and the promise of revenge. The steel of her heart had not been properly tempered. She felt the need to test the mettle of her will on the souls of the righteous. It was the least she could do to honor her brethren.

 

Clan Pantheon - a small Clan of little renown or recognition – was all she had. The thought festered in her like a nasty wound. It wouldn’t shake. And the constant reminder was enough to push her cold beskar through the city streets. She would avenge them. It was her will. It was her desire.

 

The Journeyman Protectors pursued her. When she entered the sector, she was targeted. She knew it was inevitable. She hadn’t forgotten the disgrace she felt when she left. But she had to find her ship. She wouldn’t let The Venus stay in the hands of her enemy. If that meant trying to beat feet through alleyways, narrowly avoiding hailing blaster bolts. Then it was worth it.

 

Exhaustion tugging at the sides of her face, she looked toward the end of the alleyway. Their approach was assured. She could hear the thunder of boots as they clamored through the side street. Her eyes lingered on a small waste disposal bin at the end of the alley and she crouched low beside a black metal crate. When she caught the glint of steel as it rounded the bend, she caressed the trigger in her right hand with vicious glee and pressed it without a second thought.

 

The explosion was slightly deafening. Thermal charges.

 

Viscera, beskar and weapons littered the ground. She opened her cover and approached any of the attackers that were still alive. She had to make sure the job was finished. If any of them were left alive, she wouldn’t forgive herself.

This one is for you, Juno.

 

One clean cut to the femoral artery of a struggling survivor. One slam with iron fists to the exposed throat of a coughing bleeder. One hamstring cut, and one gut bleeding out. This was her gruesome task. This was the monster she became.

 

But she accepted it.

 

They wanted fury.

They wanted fire.

 

They’ll get it.

 

Cythera turned and ran toward the spaceport, dancing between plain clothes as she went, because she knew that they wouldn’t fire on civilians – granted, most civilians here were also Mandalorians and shot at her as she walked by. But she dealt with that as she ran, ignoring sense and morality as she pushed toward the large building. 'Spaceport' was a little too unrealistic a term though. It was more like an outpost with ships around it. But this planet didn’t have skyscrapers, or an official group to assemble councils to make decisions that would lead to that sort of construction; however, that was the likely hiding spot for her beloved ship.

 

I’m coming for you. I won’t leave you behind.

[Hadrian Augustus]

A red fiery blaster bolt caught a Journeyman Protector under the chin of his buy’ce and dropped the man as he pursued Cythera. The man gurgled out his lifeblood as Hadrian took his place stalking after the running ex member of his old faction. Hadrian shouldered his E-11 and fired three more rounds into the back of another protectors neckplate. Eating away at the thin metal and blowing through his windpipe in a gorging white hot blast. He dropped, his red and white armour crashing into the blood stained dust with a loud clatter. Hadrian picked up his pace as he dodged through the mass of screaming and running civvies as he paced his running friend. They were headed towards her ship, where he had parked his own ship, The Elysium's Guard beside. When they rounded the corner he called out with his helmet projected voice,

 

“Hey wait up Clan Pantheon, don’t want to trip up in the trap they left for you in the spaceport.”

 

He held up his hand in greeting should she see him. He wore a familiar grin, and was busy stripping a dead protector of his arms and armour. It had been several years since they had been in the rebellion together. Perhaps she would recognize him, perhaps not. He wouldn't blame her if she chose to ignore him. His actions had caused them all a lot of grief.

[Terra]

A comlink message arrives for Hadrian Augustus

 

 

The voice is gruff, but carries a familiar tone, with a hidden warmth. The holomessage displays the young assassin standing in her black Beskar'gam, her blonde hair pulled back into a long braid down her back. The eyes are filled with wrath, and each of the words in Mandalorian carry a hateful accent

 

...Su cuy'gar Hadrian. The Kyr'tsad has lain dormant for far too long. We true Mando’a will exist in the cover of darkness. For now an alliance with the darjetii Ab’ki exists to strike a blow on Manda’yaim against… Fett… I do not know the strength of this woman, I will not enlist you in a suicide mission, but gather our forces… After this business is attended to, I will meet you on Concord Dawn. Perhaps I’ll hold the head of the utreekov Fett upon my blade.

 

Until Then,

 

Pirunir sur'haaise

 

[Cythera Anora]

“Hey wait up Clan Pantheon, don’t want to trip up in the trap they left for you in the spaceport.”

 

The word 'Pantheon,' didn't reach her ears fast enough to impede Cythera's adrenaline fueled momentum. Her right hand tightened around the handle of one of her DE-10's and the barrel swung, loosing two fiery bolts into the air. Their arcs narrowly missed Hadrian's waving hand. Hadrian ducked when he heard the sound, but it took a few more moments for Cythera's brain to sufficiently process the moment. She swiveled her head around to verify that his presence wasn't a trap, then ushered her fellow revolutionary into an empty side road.

 

"What the kriff are you doing here Hadrian?! You trying to get me killed?" Cythera whispered emphatically. She led him closer to one of the side buildings, taking care to put a few cargo crates between them and the main road; she wasnt very good at sneaking, but she wasn't stupid. Then, when she was sure they couldn't be overheard, she narrowed her eyes and mulled over her words before continuing. "What do you mean by trap? What do you know?"

[Hadrian Augustus]

Hadrian cursed roughly as he ducked below the blaster bolt, smiling her strode up carrying the extra set of armour he pulled off the dead Protector. “No Cythera, I am trying to avoid getting you killed. Though I must say it is good to see your face again.” He whispered as they crouched beside the wall of the towering industrial complex. He gestured to a small thin wire stretched across the pathway they would have run straight into. “Some kind of tripwire I think. If you notice the suspicious lack of civvies in this area, I would say we are due for a quick shootout if you are ready to take some of these Mando Cabure to the dirt where they belong.”

 

He spat out the title of the protectors like it sickened him. Mandalorians weren’t some kindly police force, they were made to conquer, not serve. He quickly put the dead man’s armour on himself and withdrew his blaster again. In the distance, a Chariot LAV and five protectors were covering the entrance to the spaceport. He cursed again

 

“Bic ni skana'din!”

 

He leveled the blaster at the gunner of the LAV and let loose a blue bolt that burned through the women's visor and splattered her memories on the back of the her helmet. He laughed and the fight was on.

[Cythera Anora]

Cythera blanched. She poked her head out from behind the crates, shifting her gaze to where Hadrian was indicating. And, sure enough, there was a thin wire about ankle-height, ten feet past where she'd stopped. Had she not noticed Hadrian when she did, she would have been a sitting nuna on the main road. Intuition and experience led her gaze further down the road to find a few more tripwires and a large oblong shape that was obscured by a tarp. From the look of its structure, Cythera couldn't tell what it was supposed to do. But, its pointed design suggested the familiar tube shape of blaster barrels. And the size of its base suggested that it was mounted to the ground. Its position would give the gun a wide arc, easily covering the approach to the starport. Which meant that, no matter what, this was going get a bit messy.

Pfassk...

 

A LAV was bad enough, but a mounted gun complicated things.

 

The fiery haired Mandalorian retreated to her position behind the crates. She grabbed a bit of loose cloth at her belt and tied her hair back into a tight braid. Her fingers closed tight on her pistols, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The scene, as it was, unfolded in her mind: the tripwires, the gun, the LAV, and the Protectors guarding the star port. Her assets were few, but she was formulating a plan as she went. It wasn't the most effective strategy, but it worked sometimes.

 

Her expression was intense when she looked back at Hadrian, but the hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

 

"Good to see you too. If you're prepped to rumble-" Cythera attempted to comment. The blue fire of Hadrian's bolt broke her speech and scrambled her plan. Her thoughts attempted to regroup almost immediately and sent her head spinning. She contemplated placing her armored hand on her forehead but decided against it due to a lack of time. So, a trigger happy sheb and a hoard of baddies between me and ma ship. Kriff, this day just keeps getting better and better. Cythera bemoaned as she stepped up beside Hadrian.

 

"Alright, four more tripwires down the line and I think a mounted gun between those two side streets. Watch yourself, Hadrian." Cythera warned before holstering her left pistol and palming a worn sphere in her left gauntlet. “I’ll take out the LAV, or go down swinging. I’ll leave you to whatever. Just, don’t block my shot.”

 

Cythera’s expression hardened. A glimmer of excitement shone on her face. She stood with her back to the crates while Hadrian lined his shots, and with a large breath of air, she turned and sprinted into the kill zone. A gun in one hand and a small sphere in her other, Cythera darted to and fro on the field. She took note of the tripwires and considered each one before stepping past the next. Then she speckled more evasive cantering into her movements. When she was twenty feet away, she could see the armored window of the LAV start to close. They misgauged the threat they faced and their arrogance lost them a gunner. Seeing no alternative, Cythera tumbled to the ground and chucked her small sphere into the opening of the viewport just as the opening closed and locked its occupants inside.

 

The Mandalorian had to race to her feet to avoid incoming blaster fire from the protectors stationed in front of the starport, but a satisfying explosion settled her nerves. She took a shot or two to her arms and one to her leg. The pain was a bit spicy but bearable. All her effort seemed to pay off though; at least, it managed to pay off, until the LAV – that was now unmanned – crashed into the fifth tripwire. The sound of a turret warming up echoed through the eerily silent part of Cythera’s mind. Even in the cacophony of brilliant fire, she could still hear a turret warming up.

DWANG!!!!

 

Cythera leveled her blaster on the protectors that guarded her destination and jumped to nearby cover, trying to avoid potential turret fire.

[Hadrian Augustus]

Hadrian dropped into a crouch as blaster fire started tracing their position, he fired two rounds of blue energy through a female protector's visor and chest armour and knocked her lifeless corpse into a stack of crates that fell with a crash. He traced his blaster rifle to the nearly destroyed LAV and put a few rounds through its fuel tank, the resulting explosion knocked him a dozen feet into a parked landspeeder and he could hear nothing but painful ringing in his ears. He coughed hollowly and retrieved his pistol from its backup holster on his left thigh. Pain ran through his back and it brought him fully into the battle. The protectors had mostly recovered from the shock of the explosion and were busy feeding blaster fire his and Cythera's way.

 

Little bits of permacrete were still raining down on top of Hadrian's helmet as he began to return fire. The LAV was down but there were still about five protectors left, and there was still a very long distance to go before they reached their ships. It wouldn't be easy, but these were men and women used to peace. And that was their disadvantage.

[Cythera Anora]

Dust flew wild in the air.

 

The smell of charred flesh; the smell of flames; the smell of blood and sweat, clung to her nose as she knelt behind another large crate.

 

She heard Hadrian rejoin the fight as the turret started to peel away at her cover. Blood pounded in her ears. The thundering roar of turret fire that erupted beside her, joined by a cacophony of bolts from the starport, fueled the adrenaline that pumped into her veins. The symphony of war called to her, galvanizing her muscles and pulling her forward.

 

Her ship was waiting for her at the end of this maze. Whatever pain she suffered; whatever struggle she was forced into; whatever consequences she faced, it was all worth it in the end. This was where she swore to take a stand. She owed it to her family and she owed it to the man she loved. These protectors thought to serve law and order. They tried to make peace, but their peace was twisted. They kept a woman from her ship and attacked her on sight. There was no trial, no plea one way or the other. Not that Cythera needed their approval. It simply rubbed salt in the vengeful fire that built inside her.

 

Why do these Mandalorians know what is best for all other Mandalorians? And why should their thoughts and opinions dictate what other Mandalorians do and what other Mandalorians should live or die? These were the questions she asked the day her family died. These words hung heavily on her shoulders and stung her mind every time she fought other Mandalorians.

 

Cythera peered from her crate, dodging a shot from the turret, and punched two protectors in their visors with her pistols. It was a practiced motion; pivot, set, aim, fire, and retreat. The two protectors went down with chunky metal thunks and the turret continued to pound away at the heavy metal crates beside her. Her next move yielded more results, but the turret continued to slam away at her metal cover. She didn’t have a solution for that. Not yet anyway. She used her only explosive.

 

She hoped Hadrian had a crazy idea up his sleeve, but she didn’t want to rely on him if she didn’t have to. She looked around for anything that might help and found a couple of discarded blaster rifles nearby. They still had somewhat fresh power cells inside with enough juice to be useful. So, while the turret continued to pound away at her location, Cythera set herself up to rig a rudimentary bomb.

[Hadrian Augustus]

The blaster rifle bucked in his gloved hands as he pumped off a half dozen rounds into a protector who rounded the corner, her chest piece absorbed the first two rounds but the following four bored through the jumpsuit that covered the openings in her armour cooking her internal organs in the fiery heat of spun tibanna gas and energy. She collapsed with a gasp and died twitching in the dirt roadway. A brown sticky mix of burned blood and organs seeped out her and spread in a tacky pool around her white armoured form. Hadrian winced as a turret bolt reflected off his shoulder and spun him to the ground beside the dead woman. Crawling, he retrieved two thermal detonators, triggered them to 3 second discharge and tossed them in two second intervals at the turret. The first one missed, going off in a white static discharge but the second found its mark evaporating the turret in a beautiful pure white explosion.

 

He stumbled to his feet as the protectors ran back around the next corner. They were almost to their ships. He extended a slightly shaking hand to Cythera and helped her to her feet. He held out the last thermal detonator he had scavenged and tossed it around the corner He heard it go off and a scream of someone, hopefully not a civilian, that had lost their lower extremities in the blast. He retrieved his last grenade from his belt, a G20 Glop and tossed it. He winked at the girl beside him and rushed around the corner.

[Cythera Anora]

Cythera could not erase the look of surprised, yet amused, exasperation from her face.

 

Hadrian not only had more grenades than she did, but he was throwing them around like they were candy. It seemed wasteful. The sound of blaster fire drew her head away from the turret’s firing range, but when she wasn’t singed, she looked back toward the side of the road. Where there once had been a turret, there was now a mess of slag and metal, sputtering until it collapsed in a smoking pile – effective, but unorthodox. He was lucky that she liked working with him or this altercation would have ended quite differently. As it was, Cythera was stuck with a makeshift bomb and nothing to blow up, a crazy companion that rushed into danger without consideration, and a ship in unknown jeopardy. But hey, such was life. Brilliant carrot red hair fell into her eyes as the Concord wind blew at her face. She watched Hadrian run around the corner and smiled at his reckless wink. Confidence surged in his chaos. And for a moment, she didn’t know what to think.

 

Hadrian was limping away, in front of her, bleeding out in a few places. But he pushed through the hazard, regardless of the risk, charging into another crazy situation. What happened to him that he was so eager to throw his life away? Had the loss on Mandalore bit him more than he let on? Cythera knew that the smell of battle drew one to do amazing things. She knew that Mandalorians lived to die in glorious battle. But there was still such a thing as a foolish risk. Cythera knew. When her family died, she took on twenty Mandalorians by herself and barely scraped out of it alive. It was a tragic epiphany, but an epiphany that she would take to her grave.

 

Still, he was her former commander, and they were fighting to get into the starport where her ship was. The least she could do was to assist him in whatever way she could. He was doing the same for her, despite his own injuries.

 

The sound of reinforcements caught Cythera’s ears and a squad of protectors appeared down the street a few blocks from their position. Her thoughts clicked furiously and she ran after Hadrian. When she rounded the corner, she caught sight of the last remaining starport guards and caught them with a quick one-two shot series from her pistols. The first shot hit a male protector of average build, right below the buy’ce. It ripped through the jumpsuit and pierced the soft skin beneath his chin, blowing out the other side and sending him to the ground. The second shot landed in the other Mando's hamstring as she ran to catch up with Hadrian. She was a smaller woman with yellow beskar’gam. The shot tore through the seam in her plating and cut her hamstring with the efficiency of burning hot plasma. Her last breaths were filled with biting words, but Cythera paid them no mind.

 

She turned to face Hadrian and holstered her pistols. “They have reinforcements on the way. We need to get off this stupid rock.” Cythera said, urgency in her eyes but excitement in her heart. They stood a few feet from the starport entrance, but the beating heart of battle was slamming down on her.

 

The need to leave was overwhelming, but the symphony of combat called to her.

[Moon Knight]

Relief efforts and rebuilding from the aftermath of Ab'ki's attack began on Concord Dawn. MandalMotors started construction of a Golan III platform in orbit.

[Moon Knight]

On schedule the Golan III was completed and another one was started.