Broken Core (Rebuilding Mandalore)

[Jsc]

Meran Station - High Orbit
Obj 2


The station commander nodded and turned to take his leave. Leaving only Jedi Master Ken Toms at the head of the open room. The Jedi Master sighed and let their conversation pass away from memory now. Bugger. As confusing as all this activity was? No. He couldn't let the mere struggles of organization overcome him. The OSL needed him to be strong. Mandalore needed him to be strong. This station was a hub of activity and it was his job, and his job alone, to keep those gears running. The teams on the ground were counting on him.

Toms sighed and nodded to the windows. A gesture towards the stars and wide planet beneath them. He could do this. He was ready.

"Claire." He tapped his com and signaled down to his ship, "Can you bring R4 aboard and have him loaded up into the station's computers. I think I'm gonna him to run some ship numbers for me."

~ "Roger that sir. We'll load him up." ~

"Thanks. Toms out."

The old Jedi Master tapped his clean chin and turned about towards the holo-table. Trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Kat... Oh?"

It appeared that his secretary, Doctor Rivers, had already disappeared.

"Huh."

Toms looked deep into the Force and felt the girl's presence nearby. As a Knight she was easier to sense than most. Thankfully too. She seemed well and fine. Probably downstairs and busy with something else anyway. Figures. I mean. Weren't they all busy today with something.

He nodded to her empty chair.

"Claire. It's me again." He tapped his com, "Could you tell Tamlen to come on up the bridge here too. I think I'm going to need another runner for just a moment."

~ "Sure thing sir. I'll let him know. He'll be on his way." ~

"Great. Thanks. Toms out."

He rolled his shoulders and leaned over the holo-table once more. It's bright blue images of the planet below washing over him. There was much to be done in the coming days. He couldn't let a few distractions stop him. The OSL was counting on him to see this through. He needed to keep his head in the game. Just, one small job at a time.

"Now then. ...Let's see where we left off, shall we."

Yes. Lets.

...

 

[Elijah Beckett]

Above Mandalore
Objective 2: Establish the Base of Operations
With: Samuel and the gang

"Of course." He gave [member="Bethany Kismet"] a curt nord. He had spoken to his men about that exact thing earlier, when everyone had seemingly come to an unanimous decision in wanting to take part in the searching later.

He'd be damned if he wasn't going to ensure the safety of every one of those he was responsible for.

"We'll see you groundside." He said to both Bethany and [member="Michael Sardun"], before heading off to his own shuttle.

It took a few minutes, but Elijah finally arrived onto the ship where the rest of his group were already waiting.

"Is everything set?" He asked, as he watched Samuel do a quick last head count.

"To the last detail, everyone is accounted for on this shuttle."

With a nod, Elijah took his place at the pilot's seat and switched the comm channel.

"This is Henson, roll call on all shuttles and ships designated for Objective Two."

A small number of confirmations followed in response, everyone was all set.

"Excellent, all shuttles begin disembarking now and convene with the medical ship, once Kismet gives us the greenlight we'll be heading planet-side asap."

Elijah let out a heavy sigh as he watched the few shuttles who carried the men and women he was currently in charge of. He flinched slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. It was Samuel, the young man had a reassuring smile on his face.

He gave Samuel a grateful look, then turned to the shuttle's comms again, this time shifting its channel to Bethany's shuttle.

"Elijah here. The shuttles are out and ready to head down with the ship. On your word Kismet."

 

[Bethany Kismet]

Above Mandalore, heading to the surface
Objective 1, Rebalance
In Scene: [member="Michael Sardun"]

"Well, being nice is such a chore, but I suppose I can manage it," she said with a chuckle. "And I thought that's why you were here- you know, heal the planet while I stand and look on stoically with my arms crossed."

She watched him from the corner of her eye for a moment. Still waters held quiet depths, and Michael was no exception. Though he had been by her side since the moment she'd emerged from the fires on Zonama Sekot, there were still so many things she didn't know about him.

Of course, that went both ways.

[member="Elijah Henson"]'s voice crackling over the comm turned her attention.

"You are free to get underway Elijah," she said with a smile and a shake of her head. The young man couldn't shake off his military background. "Be safe, and may the Force be with you."

Bethany's eyes drifted out over the planet rapidly filling their field of vision. She could feel the upheaval, the spirit of the world crying out as it's core rebelled against it. Tectonic grinding, unsettled tidal forces- they built slowly but surely, filling the back of her mind with the dissonant cacophony of nails on a blackboard. She could handle it- it was not the first time she'd been called to a planet in painful flux.

Her connection to Sekot had amplified the voices of other worlds. First Korriban, then Atrisia. Now Mandalore. Each place she had walked, doing what she could, though it rarely seemed like enough. This was the first time she was coming with a plan- with allies and friends to help. It had been too much for a single person before. Now, however....

Her brow furrowed, lips turning down in an unaccustomed frown.

Blinking in confusion, she reached out, trying to grasp the thread of something. Mental fingers plucked, just catching the tail end of Show yourself if you're there, bastard... before she lost it again. It was swallowed up by the grinding of continental plates and the rushing flood waters, hungry earth and seas.

[member="Reverance"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Above Mandalore
Objective 1, Rebalance
In Scene: [member="Bethany Kismet"]

"Oh dear, I think our resumes must have been switched around when we decided on this job." Sardun responded in mock surprise and concern to that.

The image of him trying to heal this wasteland, while Kismet was standing behind him and brooding with an intense gaze was too amusing to him though. So, the Jedi started laughing - a deep laugh from his stomach rolling up and infecting anyone who was around with its cheer, it would be the first time Beth actually heard him laugh.

Not just snort or smile or be amused.

"We will have to figure that out once we get back to Monastery." Sardun continued after the laugh dissipated. "Can't have our number one healer sitting on the bench."

A few minutes later chatter reached their comms from the Mandalorians, they were asking for identification, which the Jedi Master promptly supplied.

"If they shoot us down, you can hide behind me, I think my head is hard enough to protect you." That last one was once again added with rare amusement, before Sardun angled the ship down and towards the landing zone where their transport would settle quite comfortably.

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Location: Above Mandalore > making way to surface
Objective: 1, Rebalance

Valae couldn’t help but grin down at the comm panel upon hearing the response of [member="Bethany Kismet"]. She returned a quick acknowledgement and waited for the coordinates to be transferred over. She glanced up in time to see Ian looking at her, and she blinked a couple of times. Their awkward exchange didn’t end there, as both avoided meeting eyes again for the next moment, and stumbled over words.

“So, uhh…” Valae cleared her throat, “I should get ready.”

The brunette sprung up from her seat and made her way back to her quarters. She was dressed simply in a long tunic, comfortable leggings, belt, and a pair of worn out boots. Valae swung her cloak around her shoulders and fastened it in place. She realized that her ensemble was neither here nor there – not quite the attire of a traditional Jedi, but a touch more pulled together than your everyday spacer. She glanced around for her leather rucksack, but her gaze couldn’t find it.

“Hey, you seen my bag?” She called out, walking back down the hall toward the cockpit.

Ian was already standing there waiting, the straps of her bag clutched gently in his hands. He held it out to her with a smile, and pointed to the front pocket.

“Packed you a few things,” He shoved his hands in his pockets, “I’ll take care of the Tumbleweed, you take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will,” Valae said, and grabbed her bag quickly. Her feet were already carrying her towards the shuttle, when she glanced over her shoulder. “See ya…”

Her hand rose and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, and she went on her way. Perhaps she ought to have said a bit more, she wasn’t sure. After all, there was potential for danger on this mission. Valae ducked into the small shuttle and took a seat – there would be time to ponder on the way down.

 

[HK-36]

Objective 3,

[member="Elisea Korrado"], [member="Bethany Kismet"],


This should have been described earlier but the writer was busy with outside responsibilities like work and school, so you get what you get. Either way, the ex-FO vessels would already find a GA-aligned fleet over the planet conducting search and rescue through Mandalore, ruins of Keldabe included, they were the humanitarian first-response fleet that arrived in Mandalore's orbit shortly after the cataclysm exploded to conduct search-and-rescue operations and remained there still, busy with their duty. The vessels also bore the markings of Abregado system and the Barony that still controlled it, if Elisea knew much about the details of engagement on Kaeshana, those were the same forces who sent medical personnel to the crash site of the Star Destroyer brought down onto the planet's surface and worked alongside FO medics in a form of localized temporary cease fire to get the wounded out.

So even if they would recognize her vessels as of FO origin they were probably safe, plus they were busy with getting the wounded out of that hellish landscape still covering the surface.

Kismet also received a signal from the fleet to greet the Order's forces when they jumped into the system, and let them know they were there should the Lotus need them, but other than that there was not much chatter, HK was still busy on the planet's surface moving through the ruins of Keldabe to really strike up a conversation and bother her with mindless droning like he usually did.


Speaking of HK, it was some time since he saw Mandalore in quite such a bad shape. The droid was one of the people first on the scene when the Death Watch dropped a nuke on Keldabe in recent history, since he was taking part in that battle he was right there when it exploded and glassed a portion of Mandalorian homeworld. Back then he helped out the warrior-folk as well, flying a transport as best as he could to get the survivors out of irradiated zone.

This time around the machine sprinted out of a building ablaze, dashing out of a doorway just as the whole structure collapsed from the fire damage, a child clinging to his torso in front, hiding its face beneath his cloak, shielded further by his metal arms, another kid clinging to his back as he brought them out of the cataclysmic danger.

"Transport, now!"

He ordered through his comm as through a tower of ash black shape of his sleek personal transport came cutting into the view, its ramp opened quickly, one of his Greycloak copies visible on the edge, extending arm towards him. HK unholstered his grapple-gun, aiming it upward he pulled the trigger as a strong Graphite cable shot out, attaching itself magnetically to the roof of the ship, pulling him and the two children up. He landed within the transport's bay, setting one child down, the other was taken off of his back by the Greycloak, his bodyguard looked to him,

"The parents?"

HK looked back down to the collapsed building,

"They had armor, it is still not too late."

Without another word HK fell backwards, dropping down out of the transport and through the layer of ash, spinning through the air to land on his feet among the ruins once more to begin scanning and digging for the children's parents while the hope still lingered.

Just another day in their chaos-filled galaxy.

Star Wars: Chaos

RP


.net

 

[Jakkor Kess]

Location: On the way to the surface.
Post 2
Objective 1
Nearby [member="Valae Kitra"]

Jakkor mentally chuckled when he had heard [member="Bethany Kismet"], He was an old fashioned Jedi having hailed from the Old Jedi Order 850 years earlier, He was always so used to referring to Jedi Masters or Jedi with much greater experience of calling them Master. He did found it funny that he was such an old relic in the face of a new generation of Jedi. He laughed as he replied to her. "Sorry Mast....I mean Bethany, Old habits die hard. On my way down now, May the Force be with you, Kess out." After that the blue form of her faded, and he put the comlink back in his belt. His comlink was ancient of course like many of his other gear on his belt, or that of his ship, but nonetheless he liked to be surrounded by tech he was familiar with.

He went into his room on board the Outlander, and made sure he had everything ready. His Jedi robes while not as heavy as others were specially made for climates like his homeworld, he made them to accustom his Tusken Heritage despite being human. He grabbed his sabers, despite the fact that he may not need them he liked to be prepared just in case. He hooked them to his belt and went back to the cockpit taking control of the VCX-100 and leading it down to the surface.

He made sure that he tried setting the freighter down as smoothly as possible, he found a flat surface surrounded by rubble, what it was the remains of he couldn't say. He grabbed his cloak and put it on, as he walked slowly down the ramp. He looked around and he was shocked. He saw much devastation in the Clone Wars, and survived the horror that was The Great Jedi Purge, but this was nothing like he had ever seen. Rubble was everywhere and a few corpses were lying about. He walked forward trying his best to ignore it all, and hoped that he would encounter one of his Fellow Jedi along the way to help these people.

 

[Elisea Apollodor]

Elisea disconnected her harness as she felt the earth shift beneath her feet. Then she looked down, the rubble she landed upon had slid ever so slightly giving way to bloodstained tiles and light fixtures that were now a stark reminder of what had occured here. She froze, recalling the invasion of the Ssi-Ruuk and how quickly they had seized Avalonia. How scared and afraid she was, she could only imagine the terror the people of this world felt. How terrifying it must continue to be. "Korrado, c'mon lass," the other rescuer secured his bright white and blue helmet.

Doing much of the same, she followed up after him and another that had been lowered down. Her eyes followed the blood, the crippling wall that now groaned in protest. "Think we could secure this wall." She gestured toward it, and the man took a step back. He nodded and pulled his communication device from down off his shoulder.

"SLV Horizon, this is Rescue Team 7 - we're gonna need additional equipment. Got a few walls to secure, and set up a small forward camp."

"Copy, RT7. Will dispatch supplies to your location."

Elisea knelt down where she stood, poking a light through the some the rubble. She looked back up and eyed the man's nameplate. "Quioth?"

"Quith, girlie - what's you got?"

"I think this is deeper, than it seems - can I get a hand or two?" She tucked the light into the back of her belt, as Quith and the other member of Rescue Team 7 squatted down. Hands along the piece of what looked to have been a second or third floor.

Quith was a fairly sturdy fellow, broad shoulders - tall with muscles that seemed to ripple out. The other man, wasn't so much sturdy as he was just tall. Then there was little Elisea, as the three of them counted and Quith - she could see struggling to move the debris, his face crinkled up and the whiskers of his red beard shifted."C'mon, c'mon put yer back into it!" He shouted, as the three of them worked to move the floor.

It budged, if only an inch - but an inch was enough. "I think I can get through here."

"Wait for the supplies lass," Quith instructed and looked up overhead as the SLV Horizon - that former First Order vessel that now gleamed in white and blue - made its way toward Rescue Team 7.

Getting a look at the damage on Mandalore once again, Elisea pulled at her own communications device. She sent off a text to a friend in Victoria, asking if the First Order could spare a few tools to help get the Mandalorians out of some of the heavier bits of debris. Quith cleared his throat, "you ready for the dive?"

"Yeah, yeah course," she told him setting her tablet back into its protective pocket. Quith secured a cable to her, as she flipped her light back on, having grabbed it from her belt. Securing the light to her helmet she knelt down and began her crouch-walk.

"If you can hear me, I need you to do something - make a noise, a sound - something." She instructed as she crept in deeper beneath the debris. Light flashing, catching the gore of a disaster. Elisea closed her eyes for a moment trying to keep herself put together. Recalling her FIMS training, the Avalonian steeled herself. "Please, is there someone here?"

She stopped for a moment so that if someone were to make a sound, they could. Elisea prayed that the Balance would be kind and that someone down here was still alive - stay alive, she thought - it would be enough.

[member="HK-36"] | [member="Bethany Kismet"]
Objective 3.

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Location: Mandalore – Surface
Objective: 1, Rebalance
Allies: [member="Jakkor Kess"], OSL

Valae turned her chestnut gaze forward, past the control panel before her, and to the planet of Mandalore. From what she understood, havoc had been unleased upon the world by way of a natural disaster. As her shuttle began its descent, she tried her best to prepare her for what was to come. There was an inkling of anxiety in her chest, a tightness that told her she could not truly be prepared.

Trust in the force. Breathe, just breathe.

She blew out a breath and felt her nerves growing calmer. Only then did she realize that her rucksack was still on her lap, and she happened to be clutching it rather close. With the coordinates set, she had a few minutes to spare, so she popped open the front pocket of her bag. A smile touched her lips as she saw a few snack bags tucked inside. Ian had not forgotten the fact that she grew tetchy between meals. It was a small gesture, but one that made her spirits lift.

As her shuttle set down in a seemingly stable and safe place, Valae set her bag onto her back once more. She emerged a moment later and let her gaze roam her new surroundings. The devastation was evident. The toe of her boot brushed a few pieces of rubble out of her path, and she walked out further. Her chestnut eyes went wide, but they found a familiar form nearby -- Jakkor Kess.

She’d seen him once before, the two had shared only the briefest of moments on Monastery. His dressings made him easily recognizable to her as a Tusken Raider, like those found on her home world. Though she’d done her best to steer clear of the sand people during her many years on Tatooine, seeing him offered a very welcome sense of familiarity. Besides, the man had seemed pleasant enough. Her hand rose in greeting, and she made her way over.

“Good to see you again,” Valae said with a small nod, though she wished it was under better circumstances. “I never did introduce myself back on Monastery, I’m Valae Kitra.”

Valae held out her hand, already seizing the momentary distraction from the harsh surroundings, and the light rumbling beneath their feet.

“Bethany should be here soon, should we see if there’s anyone we can help out in the meantime?”

 

[Elijah Beckett]

Heading down to Mandalore's surface
Objective 2: Establish the Base of Operations
With: Samuel and the gang
Allies: OSL, [member="Kat Rivers"]

"Same to you. Elijah out." Even though Elijah had accepted himself as a Jedi, even had a rough year of training prior to his arrival to the Sacred Lotus, he still wasn't a hundred precent with it as it were. That old line of thought from his darker times; when he just drank himself to unconsciousness, crept to the forefront. The Force certainly wasn't with me when my team died, when my wife and child were ripped away from me.

But that was then, and these days he endeavoured to never fall into that pit again. He would safeguard them all, Samuel and the guys. They had been the ones to pull him out, and Gods be with him should he ever lose any of them.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Elijah let out a groan realising how he had ended that call. He gave Samuel a partial glare when he heard the young man chuckle.

Samuel just shrugged. "Well you were pretty much born into the military. I think its burned into your genes at this point."

Elijah couldn't help but agree.

Returning his attention to the matter at hand, he switched the comm channel to the other shuttles and ship.

"Alright folks. Kismet's given the all clear. Let's get a move on!"

Roughly half a minute later the large, medical ship began its descent towards Mandalore's surface, the shuttles followed alongside it.

There was a brief moment as the Mandalorians below requested their clearance. Once the ship and the shuttles provided it, the group closed the last amount of distance to the surface. The medical ship was the first to land, followed by Elijah's shuttle then the others.

The second they landed, Elijah was on his feet, comm in hand ready to speak to the Base Team as a whole. "Alright folks lets get our arses into gear, I want this base up prompto."

Once the shuttle's ramp was down, Elijah was off and making his way to the medical ship.

"Meran Station, this is Base Team. We have landed at the designated coordinates and have begun the base's construction." He paused briefly to look up, as if he could roughtly estimate where the station was in orbit. "Let us know if anything in the surrounding area crops up, and is in need of our attention. Over."

 

[Vilaz Munin]

While he did made a vow and a promise to not receive any help from the Jedi despite whatever cell group they belonged to, he wouldn't turn down any aid from others such as corporations and other Force User cults. All that was evident as the Mand'alor had made dealings with Lord [member="Tai Fa"] and [member="Maleagant"] both whom had served him well with excellent quality and service. The former was trading company that offered food, medical supplies, construction equipment, engineers, and many other valuables that were in use of rebuilding Mandalore. The latter was much more of an investigating company that did search and rescues, and also came up with the theory that Ijaat, Mia, and Verz were responsible of this tragedy. It had supporting evidence that one could not offer a logical counter argument, but the Munin didn't jump on the gun yet as part of him didn't believed that three patriotic Mandalorians had betrayed Mandalore and their fellow warriors.

But right now he didn't have time to search out for those three suspects as he bigger problems to resolve.

On the surface of Mandalore, more accurately at Keldabe, the warrior was overseeing the relief center which was going smoothly. However, the same could not be said for those out there fighting against the wilds of Mandalore. There was some disturbing reports. Reports of Mandalalorians having gone mad and unstable which resulted them in attacking their fellow brothers and sisters in order to survive. This was a grand, extreme example of survival of the fittest. Infighting, but not for power but for dear life. Some that were crazy and could not be salvaged were put down on their own misery as they were a threat to themselves and others. Others fortunate enough were able to be sent to a medical center with experience and well trained doctors and medics.

As of now, he waited for his guests of the Order of the Sacred Lotus and sent a transmission to a [member="Darth Carnifex"] as the two were once allies on their quest of ridding the Galactic Republic from existence. While he did acknowledge the Sith as a powerful and dangerous entity, he did not consider him as an enemy of his own clan.

[member="Bethany Kismet"] [member="Michael Sardun"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Aboard the Xo'Xaan-class Star Destroyer, Magnus' Fist
En Route to Mandalore

Fire had consumed Mandalore, fire wrought from paranoia and distrust.

The Sith have had a tenuous relationship with their Mandalorian neighbors, often coming to blows on differences in ideology, morality, and ethics that had seen the death of thousands across the stars. But now, in their darkest time, their ruin was not dealt by Sith hand but by one of their own brethren. It was ironic, they worried so much about the dangers other presented that they were blind to the snakes within their own midst.

But now was not the time to sneer as such downfalls, it was time to shore up past failings and begin a new era between the Mandalorians and the Sith. [member="Vilaz Munin"]'s transmission was met with great enthusiasm, and a single warship was dispatched to the heart of Mandalorian territory bristling with food, medical supplies, resources, engineers, and all manners of individuals and materials that would go towards the rebuilding of their world.

And at the ship's helm was Darth Carnifex, Dark Lord of the Sith and Butcher King of the Cosmos. He had consorted with Vilaz many times over the years, often hiring the excessively competent warrior as a bounty hunter against the Jedi and Republic. Now he was Mand'alor, albeit officially in exile, but he was as respected a Mandalorian as any other within such circles. His invitation boded well for Carnifex's ambitions to reunite the Mandalorians and Sith as brothers-in-war like they had been during the times of Exar Kun and Ulic-Qel Droma, a united front against the weakness and ignorance exuded by the Galactic Alliance and the Silver Jedi.

The Magnus' Fist emerged out of hyperspace above Mandalore and was quickly flanked by other ships allied to the Munin clan that would ferry it to a safe position in geosynchronous orbit above the planet. Before the supplies he carried with him were to be distributed to the Mandalorians, the Dark Lord requested that he meet with Vilaz in person on the planet below. Such a request was easily granted for an ally of Clan Munin, and via his personal shuttle he descended into the turbulent atmosphere. His ship landed at a designated landing zone reserved for visitors and foreign aid, and by Mandalorian escort he was brought before the Mand'alor whom he greeted with a respectful bow.

"Mand'alor, it has been too long."

 

[Elisea Apollodor]

Elisea thought she heard something, a faint rapping noise and so she pressed to her left. The cable behind her dragged along the dirt. Gravel, glass and steel littered the area her boots crushed it all the same. Each movement, meant her senses were assaulted from the near darkness, the eerie noises she heard everytime the wind came through and howled. Then there was the smell, the putrid smell of burnt flesh, electrical parts that had since been crippled, tar and mortar that once held the building now hang about - and death. Death, as if her eyes had not seen the hanging bodies. Bones sticking out from bodies, organs scattered - it was enough to make her sick.

It did, actually - her hand on her abdomen and then her mouth. It was just so overwhelming. Once more the Seige of Avalonia came to mind, when she came across the first set of victims. They had taken refuge beneath the capitol complex. They being - she and a few friends, good mates. Three of them didn't make it, four were still being treated for their grievous wounds and then here she was. She came to a stop, knees hitting the ground as she leaned over and let it go. Natural, Eldrel would say it was natural to let your innards go after seeing everyone else's everywhere.

“You alright girlie?” Quith asked, and Elisea managed something of an okay through the comms. She looked down at the new puddle of vomit, her breathing had been heavy and she needed to relax - calm down a bit. Sitting up on her knees she let her light cast another round of glow on the objects ahead of her. Her hands shook a bit, she was nervous, “hello? Please, if you’re there tap.” She swore she heard it before, and so she sat there, listening - and then heard it. A faint, rap-tap-brap. In moments like this, Eldrel had always said that the trick was to keep going, and so Elisea did just that. "C'mon I know I heard you, please - tap again." She said into the darkness, her light casting its shine through the shadows. Once more she heard a rapping noise, a rap-rap-tap. A pipe, it sounded like a pipe. Narrowing her gaze she focused the light a little, "can you do it again?"

Once more it was there but fainter now.

"Quith, I think I've got someone!" She nearly shouted and crouched-walked as fast as she could deeper to the left, the cable moved quickly now snaking across the dirt, glass and muddied blood. A man, a man was stuck - his leg looked terrible and his breathing looked shallow. Instinct, training, and sheer will to not let death have another. Elisea grabbed her kit, "I've got a man pinned down by debris, marking the location."

"Good lass!" Quith remarked on the comms, shouts and commotion outside could be heard.

 

[Reverance]

The wind tore against his armor, whipping the cloak about that dragged behind him. Rocks cracked forth from the surface, upheaving skywards to reveal chasms below for the flooding waters to plunge. With each groan of the planet, the rider twisted the steering wheel to avoid the next obstacle. Keldabe was formerly a small shining beacon in the distance and with every moment, grew more and more profound in size. Until the waters receded and he found himself on the outskirts of the city atop a hill, an apocalyptic scene that more readily reflected the treachery of war than the harm of planetary destruction.

Screams filled the air, hollow and vacant as they ricocheted between abandoned buildings. All of varying structure and size and composition, voices traveled through the domain like tumbleweeds. It was then that he spotted an encounter, a man against many. Behind the figure stood a small child and what the wrath could only assume was his wife, cowering against the wall. He would have been more than happy to sit and watch, coat himself in the emotions of the encounter, but something stirred within him. The man stood by himself against four other mando's, all of whom were soaked in an aura of madness. And despite what hits he took, he remained with fists held as face level. Not unlike a farmer defending his flock from the wolves, this man wore overalls and Reverance might have even spotted a wide brimmed hat moving lazily in the slow wind.

The metal of the kickstand clicked wide, meeting the cracked duracrete beneath him. Shutting off the vehicle, he stepped off and placed two fingers between his lips. A piercing whistle vibrated across the wind, rousing the attention of the attackers and defenders alike.

"What!" One screamed, red in the face.
"Look, someone to fight!" The larger one screamed.
"Yeah, he looks like better sport than this one! And he's got a speeder bike!" The smallest of the four yelled.

The Wrath started a slow charge as the four readied themselves. From the pores of his Voxyn arm, animosity precipitated in visible form. Strips of red and black ribbons weaved about him, darkening the grey armor and enhancing his speed. What was fluid movement became sporadic, an electron with no solid path. From the four, one withdrew a blaster and opened fire. Such action heralded the beginning and end, metal casings hitting the ground and slugs finding air and buildings in the background.

It was over in an instant. All the gore and screams one would expect as trained soldiers engaged the former Wrath in violent combat. As he stood over the four bodies, lifeless and twitching, he gripped a limp and detached arm in his blackened fingers. With a slow breath, he looked quietly over his shoulder as the family cowered against the wall. The man stood and prepared himself for the fight, despite the obvious difference in strength. "Your death would come far too quickly for me to find enjoyment."

He felt it again. That piece of something left behind. Like a dog catching an odd sound, he whipped towards the interior of Keldabe. Lifting his nose to the air, he took in the smell of the families fear and found repulse in the tones. "Your fright has a pungent taste. More...sickly than sweet."

Stepping over the dead bodies, kicking them as part of his gait, he propped the dismembered arm over his shoulder and moved towards the city.

[member="Bethany Kismet"] | [member="Michael Sardun"]

 

[Avin Starfire]

Above Mandalore docked at Meran station

Avin tended to chat with some of the other ex-military men he had met on Monastery and those that just happened to be on the station when he arrived. He had never been to Mandalore but he never thought he would be visiting due to reasons such as this, alas he was here at last.

The chatter died down as members of the first landing team were deployed on their way to the surface. He watched from the hangar bay as [member='Elijah Henson'] and his team grew smaller and smaller into the atmosphere so far below.

He sighed and made his way through to the second bay where a group of men were finishing up the modifications to his ship. He had ordered a winch fixed into the position of the lower turret ports. He almost cringed at the thought of having a hole in the floor as opposed to a turret group. Nevertheless it would be needed if what [member='Bethany Kismet'] had said about the tidal activity down on the surface was true.



The modifications took a few more hours to complete before he was back in the saddle, engines powered up and ready to go.

"Meran station, this is Lotus search and rescue craft beta five requesting permission for exit of hangar two, over"

"This is Meran station. Go ahead Lotus, good luck!"

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​​Xo'Xaan-Class Star Destroyer Magnus' Fist
​Mandalore...

​Destruction had come to Mandalore.

​In recent times the Destroyer was spending more of his time away from Panatha splitting his time mostly between Thule, and Maena managing the many worlds he held sway over as their monarch. But when word came from [member="Vilaz Munin"] and his request for aid to the God-King [member="Darth Carnifex"], it was met with a fast response. In truth he didn't need to come to Mandalore alongside his nephew, they were equals among one another and he was not compelled to follow him as his apprentices so often did. The brutal execution of Darth Vitium sent waves across the Sith Order making known what had already been festering.

​He no longer stood beneath him, but beside him.

​In spirit of showing a united House Zambrano Darth Prazutis, King of Thule, Warlord of Rattatak, Despot of Maena, and Arch-Prince of the Pacanth Reach stood alongside his fellow Dark Lord as they traveled across the cosmos arriving at Mandalore. Fond memories returned of the Mand'alor when he alongside the mandalorian who so often contracted for House Zambrano worked together on a lead to find Slave I, infamous ship of Boba Fett. Unfortunately it didn't pan out but they certainly came close to obtaining the infamous ship, even now that memory seemed so far in the past for the Sith Lord.

​For once in the past centuries he felt like the Mandalorian-Sith alliance had a chance with a friend of the family at the helm.

​The Dark Lord chose to go alongside his nephew as they made the descent to mandalore in his personal shuttle. Egos were of no issue here and he wasn't some young pup trying to make a name of himself, and he gladly showed a unified wall among one of the galaxies most powerful Sith powerbases to date. When they finally swept out of the transport into the ruination that was Mandalore Kaine immediately swept out to meet with Vilaz Munin. Braxus moved alongside him in his arrival, until...

A presence assaulted his senses as a moth is drawn to a flame.

​Then...a flashback from a time long in the past assaulted his mind.

​Beaten, battered, Braxus hung his arms tied together by a thick chain looped around a great pipe high above, a set of black fatigues covered his legs while he himself was bare chested. Blood ran down a chest covered with knife wounds and electrical burns. A group of men stood around Braxus as one drove long rod cackling with electricity into his side, pain rocking his entire body. He gritted his teeth and growled low from the pain an intense glare beamed down at the man.

​The infamous black skulled helmet of the renowned assassin Reaper sat on the nearby table along with the rest of his gear. Men of the Scarlotti Cartel centered in the Rishi Maze had trapped him, in truth his own capture was due to his own grave miscalculation. He should've known the contract was bad when the operator mentioned the Rishi Maze, the cartel were still after him for the death of their kingpin.

​They might've captured him but he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing his howls of pain. Twelve hours later and it seemed they were nearing the end of their patience. "Just kill him and be done with it." ​A burly togorian said to the lanky, ratty human as he handed him a blaster. The barrel was lifted to his head then the men both seemingly in agreement.

​Then she came.

​[member="Bethany Kismet"]

​The door flew open and a woman descended upon the thugs in a whirl, her every movement augmented by the force she dispatched them nonlethally with the grace of a master, the woman's life essence he felt told him she was powerful, potent Jedi always felt differently to the anzati's senses. A swift slice from her lightsaber after the fighting was all over dropped him to the ground. Braxus staggered over to the table using it for a support with help of the mysterious woman "Let me help." ​He heard her words but she clearly mistook his intentions. The thugs all saw his face that meant they all had to die. As soon as he grabbed the handle of his blaster in a blur he saw her hand snap out and pull it out of his hand. "Killing always creates more problems than it solves. There will be no more today."

​Braxus stopped in his tracks when the flashback taking over his mind ended. Why now? Why her? Bethany Kismet was a woman he knew centuries ago when he was another man, a different life. There was a period when he once called the Jedi his friend, she clearly on several occasions had tried to save him from the impending darkness. There was only two ways his path ended she had said. It wasn't until much later in life that he heard Beth was killed fending the Sith off on Zonama Sekot. The galaxy had already began to celebrate his reputed death after a massive shootout on Corellia where he really should've died, he could still see his smashed mask on GNN when they aired the breaking news.

​She was dead. There was no denying that...what approached then? As they neared the camp of Vilaz Munin Braxus split off then, his eyes glued to a descending ship, he moved towards its pad, his eyes glued to the shuttle as it fell.

​Now he would see.

 

[Bethany Kismet]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VDbfOdvFBrA[/media]

Above Mandalore, heading to the surface
Objective 1, Rebalance
In Scene: [member="Michael Sardun"] [member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Prazutis"]

Her smile widened slightly and she chuckled when he did. She watched him for a moment, something wistful in her smile when he laughed. It lasted only a moment- it was easy to miss. He should laugh more often, she decided. Not that she particularly had a say in it, but the years and weight fell away when he did.

But something kept tugging.

"No one's going to shoot us down," she replied absently, her gaze distant again. "Not today at least."

In truth, that happened a lot. It wasn't anything new. Sometimes Beth just.... wasn't there. Sometimes there was something specific on her mind, but others.....

She'd tried to explain it once. After being part of Sekot for so long, being confined to a single shell was not something that always came easily. For five hundred years she had been in every tree, every leaf, in a forest that spanned a planet. She was part of the forest itself. The closest thing to heaven that she could even pretend to imagine. It had only been a scant few months since then- since Sekot had told her It is time to go back.

Bethany Kismet had spent forty years alive.... and five hundred as a forest. She was far more familiar with the web and weft of the arbors than with what it meant to be woman.

So sometimes.... she simply wasn't. Her connection to the Force had been strong in her previous life. Now however, it was something entirely different. She didn't reach out to it, did not draw it to herself. It was instead woven into the very fabric of her consciousness, always there. Moving. Waiting. Walking in a singular body, she couldn't always interpret it immediately, but it buoyed her. Gave her solace. Perhaps she no longer was each and every tree.....

But she was still connected to them.

The seed left inside of her by [member="Reverance"] curled, shifting, responding on a subconscious level to the near-by presence. Emerald eyes cast over the landing pad as Michael brought them down, moving to a place somewhere distant. But she didn't know just what, exactly, she was looking for.

"Vilaz is supposed to be meeting us," she said quietly to Michael, shaking herself physically, as though it would bring her attention back to the moment.

Bethany stepped off of the shuttle a moment later, squinting into the heavy, dust filled air. Hot winds rippled the white fabric of her tunic and she reached up, shielding her eyes. She felt the presence more than saw it. In truth, the tall form was just a shadow across the tarmac. But with the feeling of Michael's solidness in the Force at her back, there was no mistaking the roiling in the dark side before them.

"You know what Michael? I think I'd prefer someone shooting at us," she muttered.

"I told you."

"Yes, you're very smart. Now hush."

A long time ago, she'd said to a certain man, "You don't actually exist yet, did you know that? You're this..... ephemeral potential. You're not really there, not yet anyway. But I think, someday, you will be."

She didn't recognize him at first. And then:

"You died."

It was said simply, no confusion or malice, or even real surprise in her tone. She realized in that moment, what [member="Hal Terrano"] had felt when he had said identical words to her.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Above Mandalore
Objective 1, Rebalance
In Scene: [member="Bethany Kismet"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

He felt it before he saw it.

The stank of corruption ran poignant and bitter from afar and just for a brief moment Sardun was another man. A younger man, one whose hands ran deep with blood and whose sight had been blinded by a higher moral ground invoked by the support of his equally blinded brethren. It was not anger that stirred inside of him, not as such, instead a calm and old ghost who tried to pull him to pull his lightsaber and begin the dance anew.

But there was no lightsaber on his belt any longer and the moment passed, in its wake there was only caution instilled by years of living.

His hand was already on her shoulder, pulling her back before she could step too far away, a gesture that was not gentle yet not rough in its expression. It was determined and focused as Sardun let his eyes rest on that tall figure in the distance, obscured by the sands and the echoes of those long since fallen.

"Those who die, may yet rise again." The Jedi Master spoke, softly, out of experience. "See not who it was, but who he is now."

The one thing that Beth would notice was that he did not step between them, his hand was already gone from her shoulder, the focused grip only leaving the faintest of touches before even that disappeared. No, Sardun was not truly worried about Kismet in this sense, she knew the stakes and had been around for far longer than he ever had.

There was only a steady trust and peaceful patience radiating from him as he readied himself for whatever would come.

 

[Jsc]

Meran Station - High Orbit
Obj 2


Kat had dallied with her new lady-friend long enough. The Force was stirring elsewhere.

Rivers awoke to the lush darkness of Megan's soft quarters. Nestled warmly within the bowels of her ship, there were no pale windows or dim lights from which to see the present time. Kat's head drifted from her duties once again and back into the soft embrace of her lightly sleeping lover. Awash in an ocean of soft pillows and an endless sea of silk sheets. She was swimming. Cast away into the loving currents of a wonderful, blissful afternoon. Tangled up in another woman's arms. Yet, shifting herself ever so slightly so as not to disturb her. Kat broke free of the lust-filled covers that bound them and slipped out of the room unnoticed. A hot shower and her old clothes would be she needed now. To make a soft exit. To turn a red afternoon into a white evening. And perhaps finally. To return to her duties elsewhere.

...

The door to their bedroom closed quietly as Kat tugged on her jacket's collar. Megan was still asleep deep inside. She would not take notice of Kat's exit. Indeed, River's had made sure her sleep charm held the girl fast. She would not awaken for some time yet.

Kat let out a sigh of relief as she turned to take her leave of the foreigner ship. Only turning to almost bump right into a mountainous pink Zeltron.

"Oh? Excuse me."

The Zeltron was massively tall. A pink-skinned woman with a powerful frame and long blue-tinted hair. She wore a scowl and folded her strong arms underneath an even more impressive bust. Then squinted with a pout of her cherry lips,

"Going so soon?" She gave curtly.

Kat blushed desperately. Caught in the act of leaving a lover so disingenuously.

"Oh. Well. I must return to my duties. If... If you'll excuse me."

The powerful woman squinted harder and seemed to pause to consider. Then. Without saying a word. The large statue of her presence turned aside to allow Kat her exit. Yet, her aura of contempt still lingered.

"Ahem. Yes, well. Thank you."

Kat passed by the woman with a look of terrible shame. Out the corridor and back into the station's fresh air. Her cheeks still bright red and her palms moist with indecision. Oh heavens. What had she just done. How ever was she to explain this all to the others. That a Jedi woman such as herself had traded another long afternoon of computer work for the mere dalliance of a warm strangers bed. It was... Horrible.

Rivers sighed again as she returned to the control room. Master Toms still hunched over the holo-table. Her station at the computer filled with the frame of small Tamlen. Oh! It appears she had already been replaced. Fancy that.

"Ah! There you are Doctor. I wondered where you frittered off to."

Master Toms smiled and gestured her forward. A look of gladness on his world-weary face.

"Yes. Terribly sorry about that Master Toms. Was there something I could help you with?"

"Indeed. Tamlen has taken over duties as my secretary. As you've probably noticed. Rather... I need you to do something else for me."

"Yes?"

Kat brushed her long hair away and Toms reached for a new datapad.

"I have some orders here I need you to deliver to the surface, right away. We've lost contact with a, Lieutenant Bringer. Down on the surface. Please see these orders to his superior. Captain Graves. They should be near the capital. I've included the last known coordinates."

Kat gasped,

"The surface, sir!?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry. ...Look Kat. I know it's dangerous. Really I do. But without this data the Captain could be search for own lost team for weeks. And without any way to contact him via com due to the storms? This really is a necessary mission. And you're the best I've got. Really. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't completely necessary."

Rivers stopped and then sighed.

"I. Understand."

"Good girl. ...Oh! And I've secured you a ride down to the surface too. You're interceptor can stay here with me while we sort this whole thing out. Ah! And perfect timing. Speak of the devil."

Kat turned to the sound of large footsteps behind her. Toms smiled as the tall woman approached,

"Kat. This is Captain Keli. Of the Lithe Winnie docked down on bay five. She'll be your escort down to the surface and back."

Kat's face went white as a very familiar Zeltron woman approached the table. Still wearing that same towering scowl as before.

"Fear not Master Jedi. My crew and I will look after your little lost girl here. She'll be in good hands. All the way."

Then the pink woman smiled a strange smile down at Kat. A smile of knowing mischief. Or worse.

"Oh. ...Oh my." Kat swallowed.

...

Just what had she gotten herself into?

 

[Reverance]

Mandalore
Objective 1x: Counterbalance
In Scene, Soon TM: [member="Bethany Kismet"] | [member="Michael Sardun"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]

The stale winds of Mandalore whispered words of desolation, frail screams in the rust tinted air. Hollow calls for help resonated through crumbling structures, falling on deaf ears and eyes turned towards the center of the city. A triage descended like soft pitch fabric over the city, calls for aid siphoned into the areas with the most pragmatic impact. Yet for those stuck stranded between jetties, gaping maws of terrestrial chasms, and earth shattering rumbles - who was left to save them? Prison cells formed from uprooted granite and gulping trenches, the guards and keyholders had all but ran from the impending damage, leaving those behind to their unfortunate cages to suffer until the end.

Fear.

Anxiety.

Pain.

Heavy footsteps moved him through the exposed catacombs of a once great city, structures of differing architectural aesthetics laid to waste or barren, exposing likewise foundation beneath. Rubble, peppered with blood or limbs, dirty ash covered bodies, and the shadow of some sense of hope. Overhead, convoys sputtered about, arriving with supplies and medical aid and all the things that might assuage the chaos. Tools that would undue all the joy and pleasure he obtained from his stroll, taking in the thick air as he listened to the last breaths of those still standing. He was sure, in different parts of the city and the world, that the rescue was going well. But here, with broken things and broken people, his countenance reflected a far more dire conclusion.

Intent and instinct meshed into one path as he followed the sense of power towards the center. Clawing his way to the top of a building, shimmying up a gutter and gripping terracotta shingles, he eyed the distance and what he thought might be a landing pad. At least, it seemed to serve as confluence for the rescue endeavor. The building moaned and belched out stone and furniture from the first floor, crumbling to debris beneath him. With a single step, he was on to the next building and on his way. Just as dominoes might, he moved from one toppling structure to the next, satisfied imagining the frightful families below. And the way the world seemed to grow so dark so quickly.

With no buildings left for the moment, he stepped off to find path once more on duracrete. In the distance, he spied a ship setting down as a presence moved towards it. Not halting progression, the ship landed and out came a familiar individual with a large figure behind her. Eye coated in Vermillion scanned the spread as he moved, catching words spoken in the wind. A surprised expression, one of old enemies or old friends. How often the two coalesced, he thought, as he fought back the urge to expel the soul saber and the talisman obtained from Atrisia. No, he left a piece of himself somewhere, he needed to see what had come of it.

Reaching behind him as he stepped up through the crumbling stairs of another building, the walls dislodging and tumbling to the ground, his Voxyn hand dived into what appear to be a massive belt mounted tick. The abdomen spread open with breath and squealing pain as he felt around for a certain object. Like rummaging around in an active hive, he withdrew the black hand now coated in black lacquer. Raising the object to his eye, he lifted his thumb to reveal the screaming head of a Grutch Nul. Patting the head with his free hand, all while chomping, he cooed as his sight drifted to the ongoing exchange. Once reaching the roof, slats of siding falling with each step, he jumped off with an exertion of his force, landing somewhere in sight of the trio.

Wrapping his hand around the neck of the Grutch Nul, he cracked hard and ripped it from the body. Turning it over, the tongue of the hand emerged from the palmed lips, wrapping around the carcass before swallowing it whole. The armor around the appendage flexed and expanded with every swallow. "Mmm...life entails no meaning." The robust mania set in, first eyeing Bethany before lifting towards Michael. "What is the point of rising, if one was always destined to fall?" His gaze drifted to what he assumed was a Sith Lord. Whether he was a relic of the once great One Sith or simply another member of another cult, Reverance couldn't know. But tossing the head of the mutated spark bee across the ground, it seemed he wasn't weighted by an overabundance of care.

Lifting his finger to his mouth, a finger nail cut a shallow sliver across his outstretched tongue. As he looked towards [member="Darth Prazutis"], the neurotoxin of the voxyn slowly set in to the backdrop of a sadistic smile.