Article the Sixth [Silent Conclave] [Ask]

[Rosa Gunn]

Article the Sixth: ​

The Conclave is to help the Galaxy at large. Shelter should be provided for the needy and aid rendered where possible. Those injured on the battlefield should be treated for their wounds​

From space, Nar Shadda looked so similar to Coruscant. Its dark surface glowing with the orange luminescence of false light, but once you passed through the atmosphere and headed towards the surface, the appearance was utterly alien. The air was thick with pollution, smoke was rising from places after the recent battle. The force was writhing with anger, pain, fear and hate, so much so it made Rosa feel sick.

Still she battled through it, as well as the pollution, her own small pit of anger fuelling her onwards to the refugee camps. The galaxy had descended into anarchy, tearing itself apart as wars broke out in all four corners. She had taken an oath, and today she meant to ensure the conclave fulfilled it. They were only small in number, and the refugees that required aid were great, but even the smallest of gestures could go a long way to helping those in need.

She had arrived before the others and despite an agreement to meet at the docks, Rosa had gone ahead with medical supplies in her bag to see what help she could offer. Fifteen minutes away from the docks she was already regretting her decision, exceptionally aware that she was being followed. There was no fear, small and lithe she may have been, she was more than capable of defending herself. Her stalkers did not seem to be interested in attacking, merely observing, so she pressed on until she reached the Refugee Sector.

Hundred of cargo containers acted as houses for those who had fled the main battle. The air was stale and stench of disease and death stung. Rosa paused at its edge, slowly taking it in, trying to get her sense to adjust. A child appeared at her feet, holding his dirty hands up in a plea for food.

@[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Daux"] @[member="Boolon Murr"]

 

[Seydon of Arda]

The sky was the colour of mauve bruises and citrus stains. Gliding like its namesake, the Iron Snake tracked a loop around what remained of the Promenade. Some thousand years prior, doubtless more, a grand and wholly opulent golden impression of a Hutt sat tightly midst a central court-dias. It was difficult to see whether age or recent Capital-Ship grade cannon fire had reduced the statue to half-melted slag. Midst debris fields that lined every walkway, furtive shadows darted. Locals and refugees carted what belongings they could salvage in trembling gurneys. Smoke was rising further on across a portion of burning horizon. So it went, that petrol refineries hawking chemicals necessary for plastics production had gone up in one of the initial bombardments. The fires wouldn't be out until the distillery pools and gas confinement houses vexed out all their contents. A good three months, according to one recently published prospect.

"What did they wrought?" Seroth Ur-Rahn whispered. He affixed on a snug work glove back over his right wrist, toyed with the attitude yoke and looked to track down the rendezvous stage.

One local refugee station was a piled concentration of tarpaulin camps and iron-sided lean-to shanties, besides the hundred numbering containment capsules. It stretched for a solid kilometer, burdened with greasy, unwashed bodies furtively clinging to few precious resources in their care. Fear, anger, anxiety, they pitched an unseen spear into the back of Seroth's mind that even he was not so 'blunt' to un-feel. Fires wafted up from emptied trash-drums. Bodies huddled, cooking raw meals over make-shift grills. Some volunteer workers were stringing power lines across the platform plating; washing stations, soup kitchens, and even a make-do laundromat were all busily being erected. Seroth plied the Iron Snake down gently onto an overlooking speeder park-lot that had been expeditiously cleared.

He disembarked off the tongue-ramp and strolled for the encampment. It was a quarter hour walk from the over-burdened Vessel Docks, though he managed to cut a few minutes ascending a wreckage strewn route between two leveled apartment blocks. Cooked skeletons scorched clean of muscle and fat were strewn in violent repose. Some corpses were intact, and victims of chaotic street fighting. Gang wars must have erupted during or after the initial Republic invasion effort. Seroth crunched his boot-heel through a slagged blaster-carbine and kept on. It was a reminder of Cato Neimoidia: political statement and spectacle at its dirtiest height. Yet, through the gloom and wafting fogs of engine-grit smoke, debris clouds, and more, Seroth could make out a lithe figure huddling over a long line of waiting clients. She wore straw-gold hair, tanned skin, and more easy dignity than any Grandmaster.

The lad picked himself through a collection of packed ration containers, leaping down to the soot-stained decking to quietly stroll up to her flank. Seroth hummed quietly, stripping off a glove and massaging his knuckles carefully into the soft of Rosa Mazhar's nape. "You called and I came, Busy Lady~" @[member="Rosa Mazhar"]

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Jaxton walked off his shuttle ramp slowly, keeping a strong hand holding the hand of @[member="Daux"], or Kida, as she was recently named. Kida Ravos. She wasn't technically his child, but something about saying the name brought him happiness, even pride. "I need you to stay close to me. I want you by my side." He said, knowing she wouldn't get most of the words, but would detect the urgent nature of his tone. He didn't like bringing her to a world like this, but he wouldn't ignore the call of a good friend. Plus, he could handle himself and the girl, and Rosa, and hopefully other menbers of the Conclave as well, could certainly aid him if needed.

Truth be told, he wasn't really concerned of the girl's safety at all, because he knew no matter what he'd be there, and his friends would help him if he needed it. He was more concerned with her being scared, or beginning to feel the pain and sufferinf of the world around her. Jaxton, acute in his senses, could feel the ebb and flow of the planet, the wounds of the war not long past. Daux was young, untrained, but she did have the Force. She might be able to feel the pain, yet have no way to describe it to him.

"Hey, tell me if you uhh, feel anything." He said, before taking his free hand to his chest. "In here." He continued, hoping the meaning would get across. "Now, lets go find Aunt Rosa." He said, and made his way to the refuge sector, keeping a hand tight and his senses open.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Thurion had arrived alongside Master Jax and Kitty, who he had recently learnt was now named Kida by her master and guardian. He didn't have a problem with it, he liked Kida as a name very much, in fact. It suited her; @[member="Kida Ravos"]. He'd remained close to her during their journey to Nar Shadaa, since he knew how she felt about space-travelling. If even possible, Furry had grown even more protective of his Kitty ever since Asha died, followed by the kind and motivating words of his new master, @[member="Teynara Jeralyr"]. No longer was he grieving his old master and caretaker, yet he would not forget her by any means and she would always remain within his heart. Of course, during solemn moments he would sometimes think of her and their time together, which often would bring a tear to his eye. But Daux never failed to put a smile on his face, no matter what, and he had slowly grown accustomed with how things were now that Asha was gone. The 12-year-old now felt at peace, more or less.

Once on the ground, Daux was holding hands with Jax as they ventured down the ramp and into the overcrowded streets comprised of makeshift sheds made out of containers and the likes. She had been practising her walking on two legs, and had made great progress, though it was obvious to all she remained in favour of walking on all fours. She still required someone to hold her hand through the ordeal, however, something Thurion relished aiding in. For now she was safely in the care of @[member="Jaxton Ravos"], who escorted her along their walk, so he was free to venture on his own, following closely behind the two. His Kitty would sometimes look back towards him, and every time he would smile back at her, mainly for reassurance; there was no reason for smiling once they arrived at the refugee centre. The disarray and chaotic hustle and bustle was obvious; people, young and adult, would flock around them in hope of food and water, or medicine and medical assistance. Fortunately, this was the reason the Conclave had come here, to provide aid to the victims of the war-ravaged system. Unfortunately, they could only help so many with their limited supplies, something that Thurion would surely struggle coping with.

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Boolon Murr"]

 

[Lief]

Kida struggled down the ramp as she clutched against the hands of her Guardian, both of hers grasping his much larger right. As ever she was flimsy on her feet, and prolonged lengths of time walking caused her pain as her bones hadn't properly developed in order to take the strain. In time it would ease up and she would be able to walk like Jax and Furry, but at present it was a difficulty she had to live with. Her gaze was set up at Jaxton, or back at Furry who followed behind them, yet the moment they reached the casualty zone a whimper escaped the child, eyes wide and set on the scene before them, as though taken straight from a horror film, or worse.

She shook her tiny little head and tried to pull back on Jax in panic. "Jaaa" she murmured "Jaaa-un" she said as she continued to struggle. Even as Jaxton was explaining... Something to her she felt an odd sensation, a feeling of anguish washing over her, and it was almost too much to bear. Her little lip trembled but she soldiered on, clutching at Jaxton all the more as her body shook from the exertion of keeping upright while being overwhelmed.

@[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

She felt Seroth coming long before he appeared at her side, his touch was soothing and she allowed herself a brief respite, turning to embrace him, burying her face into the crook of his neck hiding, for a moment from it all, safe in his arms. A short lived moment between two lovers. She drew back, the question of the presence of the other forming on her lips, and falling almost instantly as she felt them. These people were her family and she had called them into a dangerous place. She could feel the panic rising in @Kia Ravos and reached out to her, with a reassuring nudge.

"She's not ready to face this much turmoil yet," she said, assuming Seroth had picked up on their presence. "He should not have brought her." It was more of an observation, rather than a scornful comment. Pushing the matter to one side she moved through, with Seroth at her side. "Some areas are out of freshwater, small gangs are forming around the supplies and hording them for themselves. To be expected really, though I hoped for more aid to be on the ground from the invaders, but then what worth are refugees to them." The path sloped upwards and Rosa paused at its ridge, her eyes scanning across the horizon. The wind carried the song of despair to them along with the distant crack of gunfire. Rosa pursed her lips and frowned.

"First things first, we need to disperse or discourage the gang around the main supplies." She pointed to a small tower of containers, on which they could see the silhouettes of gang members. The small time she had been here already had given her the chance to establish two things. "They have a watchman at every viewpoint and they are ruthless. Man, woman or child, makes no difference if you have nothing to trade and persist. Bringing in more supplies doesn't work because they just collect and hoard them. So we deal with them..."

@[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @Thurion Heavensheild @[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

 

[Seydon of Arda]

"We'll reason with them," Said Seroth. An axe dangled in his grip.

The other glove reached and held like adamant to Rosa's hand. They traded something unspoken and soft between their gazes, pecking gently to dry lips. It wasn't an auspicious day. Rosa was dressed in her field fatigues, Seroth in his worn harnesses and travel cloak. They should have gathered for drink and a dance; partnered with Jaxton, Thurion, Kida, for a dew. Perhaps later, Seroth thought smiling. Grey churls of upset overcast drew in against the evening sun. Briefly, they were subject to a spectacle of violet and rose brush lines lighting the cloudy underbelly. Despite the highlights of industrial waste-habitats, tall hab-blocks grimed by centuries of noxious effluence, Nar Shaddaa flourished with colour. Heads bowed beneath tarpaulin tents leaned up, scared faces blinking with wet eyes from out the mouths of container-homes. A moment's pretty respite.

Something sharp with a gruff tack went off. Seroth snapped his gaze around. There was another snap-shot, this time with muzzle-flashes. Another failed negotiation for food and supplies. At the supply tower, someone with a powered carbine had aimed and cut down a handful of beggars. Light lanced, tore through dirtied clothing. Punctured by bloody mists, the refugee's wailed and fell where they were blasted. Thugs were motioned to get the carrion out of sight. Unceremoniously, the corpses were lifted to be piled onto the bucket of an all-purpose hover-KAT. It wailed warning whilst backing up, before trundling slowly forward to deposit the departed in a long sewage ditch. ...Alongside the other three score cadavers rotting in plain sight.

They hurried on through the shanty-town. Frightened eyes looked up at the grim procession. Seroth ushered a small gang of mixed-race 'gravball' players back into a waiting container-house. In his hands Hunstman and Seydakin waited, thirsty for ghastly work.

"Oi, oi!" Called a messy-haired bandit at the supply-tower. Her skin was dyed blue, then dimpled with rivet-piercings up and down the length of her exposed cleavage. Gritted hands tugged on a well-used speeder jacket. Pistols were strapped to her waist-band belt, bulky but potent looking. "Looks like we got some folk that may in fact fethin' trade around here! Welcome! To the Rashnetch Grocery & General Supply Imporium! What's your poison for the day?"

Seroth smiled humourlessly. "We need food, packaged liquids, medicine, and living supplies."

"Easy enough," Chirped the bandit. She pushed through Rosa to circle her beau. "Whatcha got for me, love?"

He hefted up his axe. The bandit blinked. "Ain't gonna get much for that."

Seroth favoured her with another somber grin, and swung up his sheath knife. "This isn't a trade."

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Kida Ravos"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

"Jaaa" Jaxton heard the high voice of his little hirl, as he felt a tug on his hands, bringing his gaze down to look at her. "Jaaa-un​" She continued, a bit more concerned, a bit stronger of a tug. She was shaking her head, she could feel it. The planet's panic, distress in the Force. Agony, pain, the most prominent feeling, and something that made, and should have made, her uncomfortable. Her sensitivity in the Force was farther along than he previously thought. Kneeling down onto a knee he brought himself closer, almost eye-level with the girl.

"It's okay." He said as he kept his hand-hold firm, and taking his other onto her shoulder. "I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you." He said, and began using an old technique he hadn't used since his days in the Jedi Order. Reaching out to her mind gave her feelings of confidence, strength, safety. It was battle meditation, yet they fought in no war, and Jaxton didn't exert over a field or a group of Jedi, he put everything he could muster into one girl. It was deep, personal, more an effort in creating a Force Bond at this level than true battle meditation, and something that likely would cause a Force Bond if used repeatedly. He wasn't sure if @[member="Kida Ravos"] would be able to explain it, but she would be able to feel him in the Force, not merely the Force itself or the morale of battle meditation, but him, and him specifically. Letting go of her hands for a second he wrapped his arms around the girl in a protective embrace, before kissing the girl's forehead.

Slowly letting go he gave her his hand, letting her grab ahold before he returned to stand. He was a tall man, and she was a small girl, and he thought maintaining the closeness between them important, and more difficult if he had stood first. Giving her reassurance in this moment, in any form that he could, was certainly more important to him than standing. Slowly and purposefully they walked, not rushing anything, giving as little stress as he could to her shorter legs and less experienced walk. Soon enough they reached Rosa, joined by Seroth Ur-Rahn. He extended a hand to shake both of them, skipping the normal hug by keep a strong grip on Kida's hands. "Say Hello to Aunt Rosa and Uncle Seroth." He said, trying to see if she could speak to them, see if she could recognize his friends, though she'd only seen them briefly when they met at the Temple on Teth. Rosa made a comment on her being here, one he knew didn't hold any scorn, yet he still felt defensive, like his . . . fatherhood perhaps? . . . was in question. He knew she meant little by it, but it still stung him a little to think about.

"I'll take care of her." He said, his grip and battle meditation still tight, still reassuring. In any case, he was glad Thurion was here as well. 'Furry', as Kida took to calling him, had been a good friend, if not her only friend, and he'd wager Thurion would give as much of himself as Jaxton would to protect her. The topic soon changed however, as Rosa got to the matter at hand. People here needed food, water, medicine, and other such necessities. The Republic it seemed had offered little aid to the conquered world, and the former occupants the Black Sun were not known for their generosity either. It seemed local gangs had control of the refugee sector now, impounding what came in and controlling the supplies, selling at high mark-ups for profit. A sound enough business strategy in truth, but ruthless and deadly to the less affluent of Nar Shadda, which described most of the refugee sector unfortunately.

"We'll reason with them." Seroth responded, and off they went to work. While Rosa and Seroth lead the charge, of sorts, Jaxton, Kida, and by association Thurion as well fell to the rear, walking a bit slower behind to keep Kida from overexerting herself.

"Keep an eye out Thurion, and keep your senses open." he said to @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]. With most of his attention, at least in the Force, gone to his connection with Kida his senses were dulled, far less than what he was used to. The were still good, he could still feel all around him, but his precision suffered, it was harder to find say, the hate of a murderer in the sea of pain that blanketed the smuggler's moon. With heavy heart and outstretched mind he caught up to the pair, stopping a couple meters before the pair talking with what appeared to be one of the gang's watchmen. Thinking for a moment he wondered whether it best to bring her face to face with a hardened gang member, or let go of her hands for a moment. Looking to Seroth in conversation, then to Thurion by his and Kida's side he made a decision.

"I'll be just a minute." Jaxton said after kneeling down to level with the girl. "Stay with furry. I'll be with you here." He said, not pointing anywhere in particular but nudging her mind with the Force. "Thurion, keep her safe. Call me if anything happens." He said, before rising and turning slowly, to join his Silent Compatriots. The Gangman asked for payment, to which Seroth held up a rather nice looking axe. The man blinked for a moment, before saying it wouldn't get him much, to which Seroth said this wasn't a trade, in an almost shake-downy manner.

"I don't think you have an idea of who you're messing with punk!" The watchmen replied, to which Jaxton brushed in, putting a hand on Seroth's shoulder. The watchmen, not formerly aware of the pinkman followed the arm up, to see a man a good half-foot taller than him, mayhaps a little more.

"I don't think you know what you're messing with either. See, we're not refugees. We don't need this food or water anymore than you do, or your gang does for that matter. But these people? These refugees? They need food. They need water. And you'll get a lot more respect from the community if you distributed, rather than hoarded, not to mention more than a little respect from me and my friend here. Now, I'd prefer we'd get this over with cleanly, but me and my friends here have been places, seen things, fought people you couldn't imagine. I remember two years ago I came face to face with an Emperor, one of the most powerful men I've ever seen, and had to run to try to save a friend in need. I remember a year later I fought an Empress with an echani commando a whale at my side to a standstill, before I had to leave, again to heal my allies, save the innocent. Later, I found myself in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk, and battled an old, crazy Whiphid with dozens of names and titles accumulated through centuries of obtaining knowledge. It was hell, but I fought him alone, dropped a wroshyr branch on him and eventually came out on top. But you are none of those things, and if we fight today two years from now I will not remember you, or your gang, or what you stood for. But your family, your friends, any of your gang who decides to do the right thing instead of the profitable thing, they will remember what you did this day. Is that what you really want?"

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

The woman had placed herself between Rosa and her lover, putting Rosa closer to the goods. While Seroth and Jaxton raised their warnings, Rosa moved forward tutaminis rising through her body with each step she took. "You have a choice," she called to all of them once Jaxton had finished his elaborate threat. "Stand down, help us and your own people and live," she could feel at least three blasters trained on her "Or you can put a resistance, i'll let your imagination decide what happens then." She had not yet removed the lightsaber form the clip at her waist.

"There's only two of 'em. She ain't got nothing! Kill 'em!"

The first blaster blot slammed into Rosa's shoulder, spinning her, the second she caught in her hand as she spun. Dropping to one knee with her back to the containers she caught Seroth's eye, so he could see the fire in her eyes. That would be all he and Jaxton needed to know that the time to talk was over. Two spears of midnight black formed at her finger tips as she rose, she let them fly towards those who had shot at her. Only then did they realise that she was unharmed, and that they had made their biggest mistake. These were not simple Jedi constricted by the rules of the Order. These were Rogues, constricted by their own morals: defend the weak, help the needy. The how was left unwritten.

@[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Kida Ravos"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]

 

[Seydon of Arda]

They fell into Rosa's lead. Seroth unfurled his tomahawk in flourishing whirl, taking on a run hard left round the piled supply stack. Shot-bolts whipped across his shoulders blades. Ozone began to stink the air, fouling the spot with an animal musk. Refugee's waiting for a spot of mercy in the side-tracts and shanty hovels loosed a cry, fleeing. A small 'wave' of bodies took exodus from the confrontation. Food wasn't worth waiting on, until the spat of banditry was settled. Low winds lifted a whorl of acrid oil-fire smoke off a highrise south. It billowed down, to briefly choke over the small square. The lad found four gunners hefting to him through the smog.

The first was indeterminate; their face covered in a long cloth mask split with sight-holes and a breathing slit, dressed tall in dirtied burgundy and brown jumper-trousers, shirt, and a steel-grey overcoat. Their second was a staggering Sarkan, done up in hide and plate-scale armours fashioned from rooted materials. Third and fourth were paired humans, pitched tan and dark for complexion, dressed in subdued gang colours. Three of them skidded back on their heel boots to pause, opening fire whilst the Sarkan took a long gait forward.

Seroth took the reptile through it's right knee. He kept up the run, sprinting forward into a knee-slide through the Sarkan's ankles. Out flashed the axe, swinging in a crescent slash. The leg buckled, gashed hard through ligament and bone. It's three backup gunners kept firing their bead on the man even as he came to a skid at their feet. Rising, the lad leaped, to jack his knee up through the Fourth's one's chin. Simultaneously, in his off-hand, he flicked Seydakin down through the Third's under-armoured torso. Drawn with a hotly bleeding line across her torso, Third dropped her gun and spun to flee. The first blew a melted hole through a bandage crate behind Seroth's left ear. His thumb flicked the shot-catch to full-auto~

Fourth's presence was grossly unfortunate. Backstepping, leading his fore-toe back behind his left heel, the lad caught his reeling torso between his knife-blade and axe-haft. Seroth interposed him between First's auto-thrumming barrage. Fourth could only scream as bolts impacted into his limbs, puffing burnt clouds of charred meat and cloth into the air. First paused, wretched with horror. His partner seemed to fall apart when the lad released him. Seroth hacked the carbine to the side and away from First's chest, Seydakin bashing to his teeth. The gunner howled, flipped back with blood pouring from his savaged gums. Wisely, he fled on his heels in pursuit of the long-gone Third.

...The Sarkan decided he'd not finished with this interloper. Seroth heard him loose the ragged pole-blade off its shoulder catch. It whistled over his skull-cap, sharpened tungsten keening like wind through a steel chime. The lad spun to snap his toes up into the reptile's throat. It gagged, wind-pipe briefly sucked closed. Knuckled jabs slugged his skull in a one-through-three combination. It ended with a wide hook that snapped with savage quickness. The Sarkan went limp. It's pole-blade fell to starkly clattered on the sooty stone-floor.

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Kida Ravos"]

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The boy looked on as the adults dealt with the bandits, until the deal went south and the bad men attacked them. These bandits were no match for the combined strength of Jaxton and Seroth, supported by Rosa's powerful mastery of the Force. The three worked in such unison, such grace. It was inspiring to behold. Thurion had decided to stay out of it, naturally, as he had to care for and protect his Kitty at all cost; should he leave her side and attempt to join the others, she might be left standing in harm's way. The terrified and confused look on her face said it all, she was frightened. No doubt she feared for the lives of her friends, along with Jax and her Furry. Keeping a tight embrace of her, he boy at her side kept telling her everything would be alright. "It's okay, Kitty! I'm here, don't worry." He offered her a place to bury her face into his chest so that she would not have to witness what was happening before them; she was still so young and unaccustomed to violence, as was he, admittedly. He had been prepared for having to defend those around him, but this was his first time having to witness the ugly nature of people hurting eachother for seemingly no reason. His heart kept a steady, rapid beat as he watched the scrap between the gang members and his friends.

It was not until a stray bandit paid attention to the easy pickings that was Furry and Kitty, that Thurion felt a slight panic overtake him as he watched the large man move towards the two of them. In his hand was a nasty-looking dagger which he intended to put to use against them, no doubt. Jax and the others were busy dealing with the others, and had little time to notice the stray man making his way towards the two youngsters. His young, blue eyes fixed upon the bandit closing in on them, Thurion settled his Kitty down onto the ground gently before brandishing his training saber he'd brought with him, now decorated with a piece of cloth torn from Master Asha's robes wrapped around its handle. He assumed the stance of Djem So, even as his body quivered in fear; not fear for his own life, but for his Kitty should he fail to stand against his foe. Without hesitation the man threw himself at the much smaller boy, yet was surprised at how well the youngster parried and dodged his flimsy attacks, powerful though they were. Each strike took its toll on Thurion, however, and he found his strength being sapped further by every block and parry he managed to pull off. The man he fought was huge, especially so in comparison to the twelve-year-old. In an attempt to break the onslaught of blows against him, he managed a surge of strength as he with one powerful swoop managed to disarm his opponent by striking at his wrist. This only served to make the man even more furious and retorted by striking the exhausted boy with the back of his hand, causing Thurion to be flung several feet, landing just inches away from Kitty. Blood came gushing from his nose as well as from a cut caused by the impact, just above his right eyebrow and stretching across his forehead. Still he crawled over to his Kitty, putting himself between her and the bandit, who was still determined to come at them despite having his right arm crippled by the blow from the training saber. "Asha..." he groaned as the man raised his remaining fist to bring down upon the already beaten boy.

@[member="Kida Ravos"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]

 

[Ben Watts]

"Relax now, it'll be over soon."

The little girl whimpered lightly, instinctively she did not go above a whimper, she had been beaten one too many times for crying and making noise. Even though Ben had rescued her from a group of slavers, she was still wary of him, and he understood why. It was not easy to trust people in these times with all of the wars going on throughout the Galaxy. Ben did not have the guise of a trustworthy person either. His beard was long and disheveled, a dirty old brown robe covered his body, the hood covering his face less he get recognized. Of course the symbol he had once been for the Jedi was long gone, forgotten, and he did not have the same air about him that he once did. This was due to hiding his identity, blending in, he was no longer a warrior who stood at the forefront of battle. Instead he was a rogue who wandered the streets helping those in need whenever he could.

Patting the girl softly on the shoulder, his eyes darted to the commotion, a group of people were fighting a couple of the watchmen. The same group of watchmen he was trying to sneak past without any trouble. He was not sure if he was lucky they had come along or if it would make his life a little harder. Attacks on them would most certainly spread and the other bandits would be on high alert. If he was to get this girl to the other group of refugees he had been collecting over the past few days, and rescue anymore for that matter, he was going to have to keep his head down low. He would not, however, stand by and watch the bandits hurt anyone else. He had seen too much of it by now.

The thing was, it was not the bandits who were getting the upper hand, it was the other group. A group of people who felt familiar to him, faintly familiar, but due to suppressing his signature in the force he also had to suppress his ability to detect people. One thing was for certain, they were not a normal resistance, and that much became very clear to him when the large Zeltros man stood at full height. A large grin formed across his face when he realized exactly who it was, Jaxton Ravos, and then the others became clear to him. Seroth, Rosa, and a man he had never met before.

Putting his arm out, he pushed the girl into the corner of the alley way, putting his index finger up and putting it to his lips signalling for her to be quiet. They were handling themselves quite well and he knew they did not need his help. He wondered what they were doing here on Nar Shadda, but it seemed so obvious, they were doing the same thing he was doing. He had heard that they had left and formed their own group of rogues, but what they did, he was unsure of. He honestly believed he would never see them again, and he was sure they thought the same about him, and for a moment he contemplated just leaving them be and continuing on with his own goals.

That was until he heard footsteps coming in his directions, and he slunk into the darkness of the alley way, just in time for the bandits to pass right by him and set in position to blast them from behind. Sighing, he made sure that the girl was tucked away safely out of harms way, and then he jumped into action. Springing up from behind the three bandits, he grabbed two of them by the head and roughly smashed them together. Before the third bandit knew what was going on, Ben had grabbed the bottom of his rifle, and violently smashed him in the nose and ripped it away. Quickly, he unloaded it, and he threw it to the ground. His eyes darted to the others, wondering if they had seen him, but he had made up his mind by now.

"Bunch of trouble makers you lot are." Ben said casually, his voice would be recognizable he was sure, but most of them probably believed him to be dead in the first place. He was joking, of course, and it would be noticeable in the way he spoke. "Never thought I would see any of you again. Nice surprise."

@[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]@[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]@[member="Rosa Mazhar"]@[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Jaxton was, admittedly rusty in combat. He hadn't been in a full-fledged fight since, well, his jedi days. It was a good thing this wasn't a real fight though. More exercise to him Seroth and Rosa. Still, Kida had never been in a situation like this, and he knew little of Thurion's combat experience. So, Jaxton first move was to grab the wrist of the man closest to him, before hitting his chest with a force-speed enhanced punch. It wasn't his full speed, as he didn't want to break the man's chest, but the impact still sent the man far backwards, before the sound of his head ringing against a refuge bunker indicated he was knocked out cold. He then pulled out his lightsaber, deflecting a couple bolts but not managing to return them to their origin.

"I'll see you two in a minute." He said to Rosa and Seroth, before backing out. The two could handle themselves, the man he knocked out and the bolts he deflected he did without really thinking, only reacting. Once his mind caught up to his body his first thought was of the child behind him. Coming back, but a few meters as he hadn't let Thurion and Kida far off, he found Thurion being struck by a bandit, much larger than he and pressing his physical advantage. Not yet closing the distance he sent a weak telekinetic push, not sending the bandit far back but getting him off of Thurion, before a couple quick steps and he had pounced on the man. Deactivating his saber he brought his fist forward, ripping upwards to meet the man's jaw. A quick strike from his other palm reached the man's nose as he brought his face back to see the Zeltron, before the hooligan plunged to the floor. He put an arm around Kida, holding her tight before turning to Thurion.

"Now, I'm not the best at this, but Rosa or Seroth can probably help you more once they're through." He said as he took a hand to Thurions brow and began healing the cells, sealing the wounds. It was slow, and it wasn't the best, as Jaxton had only learned the basics of healing, but it would help stop the bleeding, and hopefully stop of the pain. "Or maybe you can convince ole Ben Watts to help you out." He said with a smile as he addressed the noticeably grizzlier Jedi Master. Or former Jedi Master as it happened.

"I haven't seen you in quite a while. What brings you to Nar Shadda?" He asked as he continued trying to aid in his healing trance.

@Roza Mazhar @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Ben Watts"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Kida Ravos"].

 

[Lief]

The tiny child stared up at the big-people that Jaxton was making noises at, and when he said the word hello she managed a small "e-oh" as she hid her face into the leg of her Guardian, and soon the pain and suffering she could feel began to softly drift away, a tiny sigh of relief escaping her scarred lips. "T-Ta oo" she whispered. None of what was happening made sense to the tiny child, but when Jaxton knelt down and mentioned Furry she realised he was about to leave - even a mute could understand that much. "J-Jaa..." she whimpered, reaching up to his blue beard, before Thurion took a hold of her hand. As much as she loved her Furry she couldn't quite deal with either of them being gone from her for too long, they were all she had. But the special nudge she felt banished her worries, binding 'Father and Daughter' in a way no word or actions could.

Stepping back into her Furry she watched as Jaxton walked away, and when things began to go downhill the child whimpered, trying to pull against Furry, wanting to help - even if it meant changing into her beast form. Instead the older boy managed to keep her held in place, settling her head to his chest so she avoided the scene of fighting before her - but Kida was no stranger to violence, she had been raised amongst wild animals. She also knew all too well the outcomes, and worried for her Guardian. "Fuurryyy" she murmured, looking up at him.

Without warning some of the men Jaxton and her Auntie and Uncle had been fighting appeared, heading straight for Furry. A low, rumbling growl escaped the girl's lips, coming straight from her chest, a warning sign - but they took no notice of it, and when Furry pushed her behind him and took the brunt of the attack a low howl escaped the girl, wanting to grab the attention of the others, wanting to scare the bad men away.

She had to help, and as her beloved Furry was beaten to the ground the child leapt, her body shifting mid-air, growing and transforming as she landed in her Daux form, a large predatory cat... But the man was gone by this point, she hadn't managed to pounce him. Why? She had never missed before. She spotted him a few feet away, and could hear Jaxton coming up close. Her head lowered to the ground as she continued to growl as the bad man, warding him off to keep a guard over her fallen friend. Again Jaxton got to the thug before she could. Her quaking form began to shift back, shivering and trembling under the strain - it had been a while since she last transformed. Her clothes were in tatters but she preferred it that way, cloth only constricted her movements. When Jaxton wrapped an arm around her she buried her face into his shoulder and whimpered "Jaa-un" and "Fuurrryy", wanting them both to be okay.

When Jaxton removed the arm to see to Thurion she crawled over to the boy and nuzzled her cheek against his, while Jaxton fixed him up. She didn't understand how but she could feel the pain seep away from Furry, and was more than grateful. Purring she curled up where he lay, waiting for him to be better; her gaze locked upon Jaxton, not wanting him to leave again, while her senses were focused purely upon her Furry. She had lost enough people to last a life time, she refused to lose him too.

@[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Ben Watts"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"]

 

[Seydon of Arda]

The lad had to shoulder his way against the bum-rush. Without armed banditry maintaining perimeter over their hoarded relief bundles, the tiered pile of marked foodstuff crates, medicinal satchels, and vitamin canisters, starved families ran to preserve what they could. The clatter attracted eyes and starved mouths. Denied a decent meal for perhaps days gone by, hunger drove listless, unwashed bodies to run in. It'd be another month's time before relief supplies could be delivered to the encampment. A dozen homeless became a fast score, soon to half a hundred, then more as a ring of clamouring refugee's massed about. Family heads scrabbled up the loosening care-packages, beginning to toss supplies to eagerly swaying hands reaching and clutching at cool air. Seroth took care to extricate over a Lurmen brood trying to catch at any errant dried-meat and grain sacks hurtling to the mob. He paused, to wait and see. Someone jettisoned a too hefty crate over the packed heads. Some ducked, others were beaned, more tried to make a splotch of room lest the carton crush someone.

No one took notice of the Lurmen.

Save for a quick body that interposed itself between the crate and their diminutive stature. Overcast skies, ringed with bruised soot rising from still-burning artillery craters, shadowed his features. Seroth grunted, catching the boxed supplies. Arresting its momentum ground a toe through the earth by an inch. The Lurmen eased anxious sighs, accepting with graciousness several vacuum, freeze-dried meal packs besides bottled water-kettles pried from the donated box. The lad tried to smile. Grit washed in with a breeze and stole his cheer. For despite that starvation had been staved off for the next three weeks and more, whole throngs of displaced, wounded, and ignored civilians still had to wake to see their world half-charred. The cartels, overseer Hutt families, and various organizations of varying legitimacy, would take their time consolidating new spheres of economic, military, and social influence. Not to mention affluence.

While the Republic, with Grandmaster Halcyon and her generation of nose-bloodied recruits, gathered their breath for another excursion. As, Galactic southward, the CIS perked up to see its neighbor hemorrhaging. Seroth imagined Nal Hutta glazed by cannon fire as Jedi and Templars barked orders and clashed from sector to sector. A three-way contest massacring entire tracts of weaponless non-combatants. The Conclave would come then. Their boots would sift through strewn piles of half-vaporized corpses, cooked skeletons fused to clothing, jewelry, and augments. The Republic would turn its nose away, as CIS looted gleefully. A cynical scenario, but one that seemed less and less unlikely as the Galaxy girded itself for unprecedented conflict.

Then he heard someone chuckle in grizzled baritone clips. Seroth wove through the staging site, coming out through the other side of a medical check up tent. Jaxton was close by Thurion and his charge, Kida. Holo glints of off-light emanated through his palms. The boy looked disheveled but whole as healing energies were plied to his skin. By their feet was a collapsed thug, who showcased a mighty shiner courtesy of Master Ravos' athleticism. Wordlessly, he came by Rosa's side, sneaking a kiss behind her ear. By a sparking glow-lamp, boots atop an unconscious trio, stood a bearded, dirty, and always charming @[member="Ben Watts"].

"Bunch of trouble makers you lot are."

"Says a man who makes Supercommando's nervous." Seroth stepped in, grinning faintly, grasping Ben Watts by the hand for a close embrace. "I've not seen you, save for scant rumours. Good that you're here though. ...By recent reputation, someone of your conscience might have been gathered up by a Jedi pogrom. How did you get lost on Nar Shaddaa?"

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Kida Ravos"], @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The fighting was over, and people flocked around the containers of food rations and medical supplies. While the situation was far from over and done with, the immidiate threat had been dealt with for now. They would have to help regulate the amount of supplies and distribute it amongst the people equally, to stop anyone from hoarding it for themselves in this time of crisis. Even now, while being healed of his injuries by Master Jax, the boy had the group's goals in mind, as well as the good of the people of Nar Shaddaa. His head was aching something fierce, although the nuzzlings of Kitty by his side made him forget about the pain. Painstakingly he reached out to her, settling a quivering palm upon her cheek, his thumb brushing against her delicate lips in a caressing manner. "I-I'm glad to see you're alright, Kitty..." While he had blacked out from the impact he'd experienced, she did not look like she had come to harm, thus making his sacrifice worthwhile. This was the good kind of pain, the one received when trying to save your loved ones. He lifted his gaze towards Jax, who remained kneeling over him while drawing upon the Force to attempt to heal the boy's injuries. "Th-thank you, Jax..." Looking straight up into the sky, he thought himself noticing a familiar set of eyes looking down on him. They were kind eyes, showing approval of his actions. He'd seen them before, many times in fact. A single tear ran down the length of his cheek. Master Asha was watching over him. Reaching for his training saber, he removed the piece of cloth attached to its hilt and pressed it against his heart. "She's still with us, isn't she, Jax?"

@[member="Kida Ravos"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Ben Watts"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

As quickly as it had started it was over, perched atop a container Rosa observed the swarm of people. Her lip was split and her left cheek was beginning to bruise where a stray foot had caught her. The ache in her heart overpowered the throb in her cheek as she watched the familiar figure that was Ben Watts approach the boys. It was almost like old times, only there was someone missing, someone they weren't likely to see anytime soon. It was odd to see the Adamant company without Darron's form among them. Taking a deep breath, sh exhaled, letting her pain go with it.

Leaping from the container, a push in the force carried her pas the desperate crowds to land lightly behind them, catching the end of Seroth's greeting. "I'll hazard a guess that Ben was causing trouble of his own." she said as she joined them, pulling the ex-grandmaster into a tight hug. "Its good to see you." she murmured as she drew back, smiling at him, before turning away hands squeezing Seroth's slightly before she touched Jaxton's arm to let him know she would fix up Thurion. Slipping the pack of her back she knelt next to Thurion, gently touching his shoulder she smiled at him. "Sit up, soldier." she said softly, pulling bacta gel from her pack. "You feel dizzy at all?"

 

[Ashin Varanin]

@[member="Ben Watts"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]

An oddly proportioned figure shambled through the damage, eyes half-lidded in concentration. The pacifist healer wore a long, impractical lightsabre at his belt. Once the Order's worst duellist, he'd accidentally harmed a bystander while defending them both against blasterfire. Now he trained in Soresu daily, a recognition that virtue was not the same as innocence -- that a Jedi should be wise as a serpent and harmless as a dove.

"Master Ravos, Master Ur-Rahn, Rosa, friends, I am sorry I am late," he said gently, then Ithorian eyes went wide. "Grandmaster Watts! I had not hoped to see you here. And yes, I know you are not the Grandmaster, but you were the last true Jedi to hold that title." He bowed, formally. "It is an honor to work with you again. I'm Boolon Murr -- once of the Shadows. We met a time or two, though I don't expect you to remember."

A faint aura shone around him, consistently. There were many, many things Boolon could not do, but healing all around him had been a focus of his since the early days. Wounds knitted a little faster near the Ithorian pacifist.

 

[Ben Watts]

Ben casually grabbed the weapons from the fallen bandits bodies and quickly disassembled them so that they were no longer useable. Placing his hand over their heads he used the force to put them into a deep slumber so that they would not be waking up anytime soon. Standing up he turned to Jax who had begun to heal the one Jedi he did not recognize. Quickly he retrieved the young girl from the alley and he ushered her over to the safety of the group. She was still nervous but he gauged that being around other people would make her feel a bit more comfortable.

"Same thing that brings you here," He said as he looked around at the refuges and wondered how the Republic could have fallen so far in so little time. He had visited them recently, on Ossus, and it did not seem like this was the end result. He should have seen the signs when he was there, but really, there would have been nothing he could have done. He had always believed that one man could make a difference, but not against an entire faction, especially with their current mindset. "Just trying to help those that can't help themselves. Easier said than done though."

Suddenly he felt himself pulled into a tight hug and he let out an audible oomph as she hugged and released him. He chuckled and ran his hand behind his head in an awkward motion as it had been the first time anyone had touched him in such a long time. He felt somewhat strange that he had gone so long without physical contact and only now was the first time he had even noticed it. "Same to you Rosa." Smirking at her comment that he had been the one who was up to trouble. Well, she wasn't wrong, he had just made a daring escape from a separate bandit hideout only minutes before he had run across them.

"Only if they did anything wrong," He said as Seroth made an appearance and grabbed his hand. It was strange being around so many people who he thought he might never see again and being welcomed so greatly. It was a feeling he missed greatly, acknowledgement, something he had only dreamed of when he was younger. "I don't think the Jedi have a place for someone like me anymore. Not to keen on the whole manifest destiny prerogative."

Looking back at Thurion, he quickly scanned him over, taking his wounds in and trying to figure out how wounded he was. He crouched on the other side of Jaxton as Rosa pulled out bacta. Reaching out, he placed his hands over Jaxton's, and he helped speed up the healing process. "He'll be fine after a bit of rest." Ben said out loud to all of them as the force flooded his hands and began to mend the wounds.

@[member="Rosa Mazhar"]@[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]@[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"]@[member="Jaxton Ravos"]

( Sorry about the delay, I never got tagged by Rosa, didn't know it was my turn! )

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

At Rosa's bidding the boy settled his palms against the ground and pushed himself up a bit to rest his back against the wall behind him. His head was aching something fierce, still, yet he could feel the pain seep out of him through the healing skills of Master Jax, and soon another would lend his aid to further speed the process. It was someone the boy had never seen in person before, but he knew who it was already; the middle-aged man sure looked more rugged and grizzled than a few years prior, but the name of Ben Watts had been busy gossip between padawans back on both Tython and Coruscant when he was but seven years old and under the care of Asha. A former Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, here alone? The tender touch of Rosa interrupted his thoughts, however, and forced a smile upon his bruised face. "I'll be fine, Rosa. As long as Kitty-- I mean, Kida is alright I will be too." Having so many friends gathered in one place granted him no small amount of peace, and he couldn't help but feel comfortable where he lay upon the ground, back against the wall with his Kitty next to him and his 'family' looking after the two younglings.

Part of his was wondering why Teynara had not shown up yet, but he figured they would be fine as it was. She and him had been honing his skills in the healing arts, and part of him wished to show everybody how much he'd progressed, although he was much too weak to attempt it at the moment. Looking up at Rosa, the boy spoke to her. "Please, if you could leave the scar? They serve as a reminder of past events..." He did not wish to go into too much detail about the why of it, but he trusted her to abide by his wish. Directing his attention to the still jumpy little girl next to him, Thurion reached for Kida's hand and settled her palm above his heart, as he knew this was an effective means to calm her down. Then the twelve-year-old lifted his gaze towards that of the former Grandmaster. "Hello, Mister Grandmaster!" he said, not too loud so that any other than their company would hear. His words were accompanied by an awkward, flailing wave of his free hand, the way only a child would greet someone, along with a wide smile. For once in a long time since Asha's death did he show signs of his prior years of innocence and playful nature.

@[member="Ben Watts"] @[member="Boolon Murr"] @[member="Rosa Mazhar"] @[member="Seroth Ur-Rahn"] @[member="Kida Ravos"] @[member="Jaxton Ravos"]