Private Coruscant Stands

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H​

The invasion of Coruscant had been thwarted; the enemy fleet forced to retreat, leaving behind a significant ground force. Though scattered and leaderless, the remaining elements of the Dark Empire's finest decided that, rather than lay down their arms in surrender, they would fight to the last man. They fought an impressive rear-guard action, delaying the defenders-turned-attackers whilst infesting the lower levels of Coruscant with the intent to hold out and inflict as much devastation as their limited numbers could. To the unbiased eye, it was an impressive display of guerrilla warfare and area-of-denial tactics, however ruthless.

Ironside's Irregulars had been in the thick of battle since the first shots were fired from orbit, having defended the Jedi Temple and later played a pivotal part in boarding the Eclipse III at great personal cost to Chief Ironside himself. After a brief respite and establishing a field hospital, the Chief and his dirty dozen joined the planet's efforts to scrub the world clean of enemy presence, marching into the depths of Coruscant. Intense house-to-house fighting broke out on the regular, clearing out one stronghold after another until, at lost last, the final Imperial invader fell.

In the immediate aftermath, Thirdas and his band of freelancers could be found at the centre of the slaughter, sitting amidst ruins and the broken bodies of their foes. Their armour soaked in blood and in various states of disrepair, every member of the Ironsides were exhausted but still breathing. Through no small amounts of miracles, they'd all made it through what was regarded as a no-win scenario. Coruscant was finally liberated, and they were finally able to take stock and let down their guard.

The Chief in particular was feeling the loss of his friend and mentor, sacrificing the last of his water to wash the bandana he'd worn in honour of Tulan Kor. It was as sacred to him as any trinket from back home; the last remaining relic of Dorn Company, save himself.

With so many troop movements in the area as GADF and Jedi alike got to work clearing rubble, piling bodies, and caring for civilians, it was easy enough for someone as high profile as Valery Noble to make an appearance without causing a fuss. One or two of his men stood in acknowledgement of the Grandmaster, but the rest remained seated licking their wounds. Thirdas had just tied the cleaned bandana around his head and turned to face the Lady Jedi with a dejected stare.

"Grandmaster Noble," he mustered a feeble salute, his voice coarse and his features caked in dirt and dried blood. His breastplate had been punched through in three places, and his cybernetic arm was acting up. He drew in a loud snort, then unapologetically spat a large gob of blood and snot on the ground. "Enemy presence eradicated, ma'am. Coruscant stands."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

"Please, be at ease," Valery asked of the soldiers around her, a grateful smile touching her lips. Each and every one of them had thrown themselves into this battle, expecting to die for their brothers in arms or even just the hope of victory. She had been among them, of course, fighting within the Temple, but they were rarely given the recognition and gratitude they deserved. Her face would be all over the news again, hoping it would inspire the Alliance.

But she could never defeat the Alliance's enemies without men like them. For that reason, she preferred to be among them, rather than Alliance leadership.

They understood her, and she understood them.

"You've all done well," Valery began, her eyes drifting around, "I know you're tired and that we're allowed little rest, but I wanted to thank you all in person for the hard work. This battle couldn't have been won without you." Walking over, Valery sat down among the soldiers and looked at each one of them.

"If you don't mind having me, I'll be offering my help to you and your men," she told Thirdas Heavenshield . She had no authority to pull them away now, knowing some enemy forces were still hiding on Coruscant, but she could offer assistance to make sure that Thirdas and all of his remaining men would make it back home.

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H

Valery Noble
​

"Cough — I wasn't aware the Jedi had taken any notice of our existence," the Chief replied, wiping his mouth before bending down to retrieve his axe from one of the corpses on the ground, its heavy blade embedded in the Imp's skull. It came loose to the sound of a sickening squelch as what little remained of the trooper's brains pooled out of the gaping hole left behind. He pulled out a rag with which to clean the head of the axe, its design and runic patterns one of his few reminders of home.

Despite being wounded several times, he took the time to treat his weapons before himself. Even an invalid could still pull the trigger to defend himself, but a mucked-up rifle is no good to anyone, he recalled Tulan's teachings.

He looked the Grandmaster over, from head to toe. She was younger than he'd expected, and far more pragmatic in her choice of attire. Leaning on his axe, he observed Valery finding a seat amongst his men. She seemed an ill fit for soldier's company; too pristine to be sharing company with a broken, bloody mess such as they were. However, if she did mind, she didn't let it show.

"Beggin' your pardon, ma'am, but why this unexpected honour?" He stumbled a bit as he sat down on a slab of duracrete opposite of her, keeping his injured leg straightened. Another coughing fit saw more blood being spilt upon the ground, staining his blonde beard as it escaped his chapped lips. Each convulsion of his chest caused tremendous pain, and it was only thanks to his superior valkyri physiology and faster coagulation that he hadn't succumbed to blood loss.

"If you come seeking to enlist our services, know that the Ironsides are beholden only to the people we save, not the likes of governments or holy orders. We owe nothing to the Alliance and ask for nothing in return. This carnage surrounding you was committed in service to the innocents of Coruscant — the meek, the starving, and the forgotten. Not some senator sitting in his ivory tower."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

"We might notice more than you might like to think we do," Valery clarified as she sat down among the soldiers who had been wounded or roughened in battle. Valery herself didn't look like she came straight out of a fight, but that was only because she had already been patched up for other missions. She was helping on Coruscant now, but another war was brewing along more distant borders.

She had to lead the Jedi on both fronts.

The leader of this group — Thirdas Heavenshield — moved to sit across from her. The way he coughed up blood and the pain she felt echoing in the Force suggested some internal bleeding. Perhaps broken ribs or problems with his lungs. He knew it himself, though, and she understood why he wasn't going to leave.

He wouldn't leave behind his men to get patched up without them.

"We fight the same fight," Valery began to explain herself, "The Jedi aren't controlled by the Senate. We've gone around or directly against them to help innocents, and we always will." The conflict with the Mandalorian Enclave had started because Valery and a group of Jedi went to confront them on Ryloth, far away from Alliance space, to stop their raid. It was a decision with huge consequences, but one she'd make again in a heartbeat.

"I came back to help clean up what's left of the enemy, and to make sure more of our people make it home in one piece." Regardless of his views of the Jedi, she doubted that he'd underestimate their skills to protect.

A Jedi fighting alongside soldiers was a deadly combination.

"You look and sound like you need some medical help first, though," She added with a softer smile.

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H

Valery Noble ​

"Naughty, naughty," the leader of the Ironsides smirked in semi-mockery, be it of the Senate or the Jedi themselves. "If the Jedi are so virtuous and the Senate is not, in a better world the latter would find itself obsolete—hrrng!" After all, his own father and mother had held together a hundred worlds in their capacity of Grandmaster and Master of the Order respectively without the need for beaurocracy or corrupted officials to run the state in his stead. Not everyone was Thurion or Coci Heavenshield, however.

A feeling of unease spread through the dozen members of the Ironsides upon the Grandmaster's mention of making it home. As for Thirdas, his gaze dropped to the besmirched ring upon his left hand, proudly worn through thick and thin. Its luster was greatly tarnished by layers of grime and muck, but a few rubs of his thumb against the gold revealed the treasure it represented to him.

"We know no home but the battlefield," he solemnly stated, thinking of not of Midvinter but of Her. "My men and I took vows to cast off home and hearth until our crusade is finished and peace is declared, knowing full well that day will never come. This galaxy thrives in the waging of war, and so do those of us too far gone to return."

A bleak outlook, with grim words to match.

A pregnant moment passed where no words were spoken and the Chief stared blankly, then finally acquiesced to Valery's suggestion. He set aside his axe and began undoing the seals securing his cuirass, letting the heavy plate fall to the ground with a loud thud. Doing so revealed a bloodsoaked chest and three gaping holes, two in his abdomen and a third above his heart. His left leg had sustained lacerations.

"Bastards got me good," he turned to look at the nearby corpse, his words intended as praise. "They proved worthy foes. Didn't surrender one inch of ground without bloodshed."

Thirdas looked to the Grandmaster anew, having bared his wounds to her — a sign of trust among his people. "Did you bring any bacta? Ours ran out a week ago. Spent the last of it on a group of refugees we make across who told us about an Imp warband driving them from their homes. So we sought to reclaim what was stolen. I'm sure their government will do everything in its power to rebuild the neighborhood... ah, faen!"

Having noticed his cybernetic right arm had gone haywire by not letting him open his fist, he reached for his pack on the ground next to him but failed to do so without it causing him tremendous pain. Fed up, he sat up straight and held out his hand, summoning the bag of tools from his pack into his possession, then pulled out a hydrospanner to begin loosening the interlocking plates of his hand in order to reach its wiry innards.

"Bloody thing..."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

"I disagree, but that's another discussion entirely." She had never believed in Jedi ruling anything or holding political power in addition to the power they already had. But she knew his father well, and he was a good ruler — an exception to the rule that she was more than willing to accept. So, despite her different take on it all, she looked at Thirdas with the same smile. Did he know about her friendship with his family?

She supposed it didn't matter, given his own way of living.

"It's a perspective I can admire, but home or not, a body and mind sometimes need rest to perform." It didn't matter how tough or motivated they were — enough damage to either one of those things and they wouldn't be fighting at all. They'd be the ones lifeless amidst the ruins of a broken city.

And despite their grim outlook on the Galaxy, she did not believe them to be suicidal.

"You need a bit more than just rest." Valery watched him dispose of layers of broken armor and torn fabrics to expose his bloodied chest. Under better circumstances, she might have blushed, but seeing and feeling his pain made her focus on the injuries before her eyes. They weren't just serious, but they could still kill him if they got infected or if he took more hits like that. So, while Thirdas began to work on his cybernetic arm, Valery reached into her pocket and produced a small pack of patches.

"Sit still," Valery told him, as she inched closer and picked up one patch, "Do you mind if I help? I can tell you and your men are in pain, so if you let me, I can patch you up to the best of my abilities."

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H

Valery Noble ​

As the Jedi drew near with the intent to tend to his wounds, Thirdas lashed out in an animalistic fashion, grabbing her wrist to keep her at arm's length. The sudden urge to defend himself faded as quickly as it had appeared, and as their eyes met up close — black versus orange — the Young Lion's expression softened and he let out a gritty grunt as well as a most discreet nod sent her way. His grasp of her wrist slackened, but for a time he did not avert his gaze but stared at her as she sidled up to him.

The simple act of a woman caring for him hearkened too strongly to the countless times Nida had patched him up in the field, using these same Jedi techniques. It was unnerving and familiar both, triggering him more deeply than he cared to admit.

"My name is Thirdas," he finally relented in an altogether different tone of voice, putting aside the soldier. "Heavenshield. My men call me Ironside because of all... this," he gestured towards his cybernetics. "They mean it in good spirit. We all fought together in the Bryn War. You're looking at the last remnants of Jaeger Battalion, 88th regiment of the Antarian Rangers."

Despite his wounds, one of the wounded Ironsides sat up straight and mustered a solemn "Rangers Lead the Way" before slumping back down, the last vestige of their former glory echoed in words. The others could not, or would not, join in the salute. "We once stood a thousand strong, but once the Rangers were deemed irrevelant by the powers that be, we were disbanded and cast aside."

Putting down the hydrospanner, he next summoned from his pack an electro-shock prod with which he zapped the electronics back to life, causing a sudden jolt in his right arm. "YOW, that smarts!" Thirdas flexed his arm and clenched his fist repeatedly, satisfied with the results. "But there we go, good as new."

His work finished, the lifelong soldier glanced down at Valery, studying her deft fingers working his wounds. "Our scars speak to who we are — the life we've lived, the foes we've stood against," he said next, hoping to draw her attention. Three cybernetic digits traced down his left eye, mimicking the same path of Valery's most notable scars. "What of yours?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery paused when his hand caught her wrist, his eyes shifting up from his injuries to meet his gaze. His grip was strong, but it didn't hurt — it was a warning, though one that faded as quickly as it came. She understood the apprehension she felt, so after a short moment of silently assuring him with her eyes, she inched closer again. Valery was no healer, so using the Force to tend to his wounds was out of the question, but she could clean his injuries and wrap them up.

Make it easier for him to heal and offer some pain relief at the same time.

"A pleasure to meet you, Thirdas Heavenshield," Valery said as she began to patch him up, "Your father is a good friend of mine, so I'm honored to finally meet his son." Her voice was soft and gentle, caring like that of a nurse tending to good men who had given everything for what they believed in, "The Bryn war was before my time, but I've heard much about it. I'm sorry to hear that your regiment was disbanded after the fact."

"After fighting together in such a brutal war for so long."

Shifting to a different wound, Valery began to process anew, only to nearly jump up when he zapped his cybernetics back to life. Peeking up through long strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face, she smirked and gave him a bit of a look for not warning her that he was going to do that.

"Try to sit still. I'd hate to make one of these cuts worse." She was firm with her voice now but still caring. With her eyes up and her attention on him, Thirdas mentioned her scar. Valery smiled faintly and tucked some hair back behind her ear, "A reminder of a mistake I once made and my journey from there. It was, at the time, the worst moment of my life, but it helped me become the woman and Jedi that I am today."

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H

Valery Noble
​

"Yeah, of course you know my father," he muttered, staring off into the distance for some time. He'd stopped counting the days since he last saw home. Since last he looked upon his mother and father's face, or that of his many siblings. Every reminder made it more painful the longer he spent away, for the blood of every Child of Midvinter desperately yearns to answer the call to return home. At this point, endless war was what kept his mind on the task ahead.

He was surprised to learn she'd not lived through the Bryn War, and again posed the question as to her age. Or did she grow up too sheltered to have noticed such a galaxy-spanning conflict? It was not his place to ask, nor did it matter. In fact, he relished the opportunity to share his first-hand experience in the tradition of his people.

"The Bryn'adûl were a monstrous species hailing from beyond known space. They invaded the galaxy not just to conquer, but to eradicate all forms of life and terraform every world into one of their hives from which more could spawn. It took the combined might of every major faction to finally bring them to an end. Many worlds fell, forcing us to make a desperate last stand on Sev Tok, in the City of Anvil—"

"We March For Anvil," his second-in-command called Creed immediately stood and recounted their once-proud battle cry. This time the others echoed the Major's words, throwing fists into the air as best they could. Thirdas looked to his comrades and grinned. "Damn right. Anvil finally blunted their path of destruction and we went on the offensive, reclaiming was what lost. My boys led the charged in every battle from then on, until the last Bryn'adûl stronghold fell and set aflame."

He smiled, thinking fondly of those heady days in spite of the horrors they faced every day. Regardless of how bitterly their legacy had ended, the journey had been one of brotherhood and camaraderie, love and loss. His smile did, however, soon fade.

"There exists a monument to the Bloody 88th on Sev Tok, in the heart of Anvil, carrying the name of every member. The inscription reads: Take these names to heart, passers-by, for we will never see their like again. No truer words are there in this world or the next," lamented their commander, tossing the pair of tools back into his pack.

"Wear your scars with pride, Grandmaster Noble," he said next, turning to her. "They are as much a part of you as your name, your heartbeat, your very breath. Whatever your mistake was, it set you on the path you now tread. I can only count myself fortunate it was fated to cross mine this day," he added with a bow of his head, offering her the first smile of many to come.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery nodded along while she listened to his story of the Bryn. She had, of course, heard about it and even participated in healing the Scar Worlds they left behind. She had even encountered a few Bryn in battle, but those were survivors who were hiding out on one of their former planets. Nothing compared to the major battles that tore apart planets and forced the entire Galaxy to unite against them.

At least, she knew the responsibility that came with such a war, having ended one just as brutal herself. The Maw were different in their approach perhaps, but their years of war had left several planets entirely destroyed and countless more ruined beyond recognition.

War was a brutal thing.

"I'll have to visit the monument sometime," Valery said with a softer smile, "I may not have fought in the war, but I'm glad that the Galaxy was able to rely on good men such as yourself and those who sacrificed everything." She had always greatly respected soldiers and she was fond of being in their presence.

This was the least she could do.

"I've long struggled to wear this scar on my face," Valery admitted when he mentioned it, "But you grow older, wiser hopefully, and learn the importance of making those mistakes." She chuckled and dipped her head, "I'm glad that this path has somehow led me to meeting all of you, as well."

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
L O W E R_L E V E L S
S C O U R I NG_A F T E R M A T H

Valery Noble
​

The impromptu medical treatment provided by the Grandmaster continued for a while longer, with Valery patching up the last few scratches a soldier of his calibre would rarely bother with, but he was grateful all the same for the extra care. It made him terribly homesick, though not for Midvinter and kin. He was reminded just how dearly he missed Nida; her care and attention, their mutual bond of love, and their holovid nights spent huddled together on the couch watching crappy old horror vids long into the night. Life was simple back then, and he found himself desperately longing for those happy days.

Once Thirdas and his men were patched up and sufficiently rested, he finally stood and stretched, flexing his arms and chest after the extended sit-down. "You needn't worry," the Chief said, bending over to pick his cruirass off the ground, dusting it off. "They are fine scars; imposing and inspiring. Most attractive in the eyes of my people."

Though compromised with its three holes still smoking from the armour-piercing projectiles designed to penetrate tanks, the slab of phrik was still formidable in providing unsurpassed defence, as evidenced by him still walking and talking. Once strapped back on, Thirdas gathered his things and hefted his greataxe over his shoulder, turning to Valery.

"Ironside's Irregulars, at your service, ma'am." The others drew near, all suited up and itching for more punishment. Collecting his helmet off a nearby corpse, his every feature became encased in steel as the visor closed shut and its horizontal eye-slit lit up with a menacing crimson. "Where's the fight?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery chuckled and raised a hand up through her hair, "I'm not ashamed of the scars anymore. I quite like the look of them. They make me look... feisty." She smirked and sat back for a moment, enjoying a few seconds of peace and rest. Patching them up had drained more of her energy than she had imagined. Not because the work was physically demanding, but because of the focus it required. She was no medical expert, so for each injury, she was extremely focused on making sure she did things right.

She'd never forgive herself if she made a mistake and caused more harm to one of these fine soldiers.

But while Valery took a moment to rest, they actually seemed full of energy again. Their equipment was readied, and she could see it in their eyes — they wanted to keep fighting.

"There are a few more enemy positions on Coruscant we have to take down. But the real battle will soon be the liberation of other Core Worlds. Will you be there for those battles, too?"

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

CORUSCANT
LOWER LEVELS

Valery Noble ​

Ironside offered his hand and raised her to her feet, nodding and smirking at her comment. "Hah! You've got spirit, Jedi! I am most pleased to say I was wrong about you. One would expect a grandmaster of the Jedi Order to be too high on their horse to notice those on their hands and knees, or a mere ornament to look pretty for the holos. I can tell you are neither high-strung nor ornament."

In but an hour's worth of conversation, Valery Noble had demonstrated her character. Kind, caring, and wise as one would expect, but also passionate, and feisty to the point of seductive. She clearly knew her talents well, be they of mind or body.

Thirdas turned and stared off into the tiny glimpse of the evening sky afforded to those dwelling on the lower levels, his men gathering around their leader. He took a deep breath, basking in the moment of a battle well fought and the promise of battles yet to come. His blood ran hot through his veins, answering the call before his lips had even begun to move.

"The Ironsides are yours to command, Grandmaster," he turned to her as each member of the elite band of brothers presented arms in a unified manner, saluting Valery in perfect synchronicity. "We are yours, and you are ours. May our union strike fear in Fear itself and stir the hearts and minds of the downtrodden. Direct us, Lady Noble, and we shall carve a path worthy of the memory of the Bloody 88th!"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery chuckled and shook her head, clearly amused, "I'd like to think most Jedi won't be too high on their horse. You don't become a Knight, a Master, or a Council Member by doing nothing." That said, Valery herself was probably a more unique case. She hadn't joined the Council during a time of peace when wisdom and experience mattered most. She had been voted into her role as Sword of the Jedi to lead the Jedi during war.

She had simply continued to carry the torch after the war ended, but all of that experience was still with her. It helped her understand not only her fellow Jedi, but also the soldiers on the ground, and the civilians impacted by each battle.

She was glad they seemed to appreciate that.

Not only that, but Thirdas and his soldiers even swore themselves to her. Valery blinked, clearly surprised, then smiled and dipped her head to show them all respect, "I will rest easier, knowing I have you all standing with me." Not behind her, but alongside her, where she preferred them to be.

"For now, let's sit together and rest."

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

CORUSCANT
LOWER LEVELS
Valery Noble ​

With their wounds mended and their spirits lifted by the unexpected yet greatly-appreciated presence of the Jedi Grandmaster, Ironside's Irregulars were back to fighting strength and eager for battle. Theirs was a thirst that could never be quenched, for they had witnessed the worst horrors this galaxy had to offer; marched right into hell and come out the other side as victors. They were few, yes, but their combined experienced and veterancy could that of entire armies.

And now, the Ironsides were sworn to Valery Noble. Until fate decrees otherwise, or their goals no longer align, they would follow and fight beside her to the bitter end. So it was that when another Imp stronghold was unearthed by GADF intelligence operators, it was deemed too costly to send an entire battalion to assault such a defensible compound. With a chuckle in their throat, the Ironsides accepted the mission by commenting that by sending the twelve of them, they were effectively sending an entire battalion anyway. And with the Grandmaster herself by their side, their odds of success had grown two-fold.

"With your permission, Grandmaster: I'm suggesting we divide our force into three teams," the former colonel explained, pointing to a holo-map of the stronghold. "Yarrick, Gaunt, Cain, Trek — you're on overwatch. Take your perch on this rooftop here and be our eyes and ears. The rest of you will be staging a frontal assault in order to draw their fire. Make it loud. Commissar will be in overall command," he gestured to Creed, his first officer.

"What about you, Chief?"

He turned Valery with a twinkle in his eye.

"Lady Noble and I will infiltrate and hunt down their command structure from within. With their leadership in tatters, the rest will surely crumble. It will be an honour to fight alongside a Jedi once more," he added, bowing his head. Antarian Rangers were specifically trained to support and serve under Jedi commanders.

"Make the necessary preparations," he instructed his men. "We step off in an hour. Iron Within!"

"Iron Without," they replied, saluting before leaving Ironside and Valery's side. The former eyed the latter while allowing a moment to pass. Sparks formed as he idly sharpened his knife against the phrik plating of his cybernetic arm.

"Most Jedi would prefer to meditate prior to battle," he said. "But I'd wager that is not your way. Tell me, how does the Sword of the Jedi purge stress on the precipice of combat?"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery looked over the holo-map thoughtfully, her eyes scanning every detail of the stronghold. The plan was solid, and she trusted Thirdas and his team to execute it well. When he turned his gaze to her with that familiar twinkle, she couldn't help but smile back, the energy between them already sparking with the promise of action.

"It will be an honor to fight alongside you too, Thirdas," she said, her voice calm but edged with excitement. The Ironsides were seasoned warriors, and with them at her side, she felt more assured in their chances.

It'd be a thrill to work together.

As his men dispersed, Valery shifted her attention fully to Thirdas, observing the rhythmic scrape of his knife against his arm's plating. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet room, a soothing yet intense preparation for what was to come.

"Most Jedi do meditate," she agreed, smirking faintly as she leaned against the table, arms folding over her chest. "But I'm not most Jedi. When I'm preparing for battle, I like to focus on the mission and engage with the people I'm fighting alongside." She tilted her head slightly, her gaze flickering between his eyes and the blade he sharpened.

"It reminds me what I'm fighting for, and it keeps me grounded."

Thirdas Heavenshield ​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

CORUSCANT
LOWER LEVELS
Valery Noble ​

"The mark of a true leader," he nodded approvingly. It had been the most unbearable aspect of the Bryn War; not the carnage inflicted or the pain sustained, physical or otherwise, but to have known each and every face he'd sent into battle, their names and their dreams. And yet, that brotherhood he'd made sure to instill in his battalion was what had pulled them through even the roughest campaigns with their sanity intact.

He noticed her eyes upon his prosthetic and knew she yearned to ask, yet did not wish to cause offence.

"It happened a long time ago," he flexed his cybernetic arm, a lifelike imitation of human sinew in the form of interlocking phrik plates, seemingly indestructible. He bent down and pulled up the right leg of his trousers, revealing another artifical limb of similar design hiding underneath. "I was a newly-minted sergeant of 19 years of age, still just a kid. I fought for Midvinter in the Great War alongside the rest of my family, but got separated on the battlefield and pounced upon by a slew of these shadow-demon-things. I fired until I ran out of ammo, then clutched a grenade in the attempt to take a few more bastards with me. If it weren't for Nida, and my mother..."

He trailed off, idly rubbing the ring on his finger.

"I'd been mortally wounded, my flesh poisoned and corrupted black. It would have spread through the rest of my body had I not given up my limbs. After the amputation and the sedation'd worn off, I awoke to the news that..." His uncle had passed, and his father was now king. Everything had suddenly changed, for everyone. Midvinter stood victorious. Victory at the cost of an arm and a leg, he recalled having joked.

Thirdas physically recoiled, the strain of his Valkyri homesickness becoming unbearable for the moment. Still, he pressed on, turning to Valery with a hint of desperation in the black pools of his onyx eyes.

"My father," he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, as if having to steady himself. "Would you... Would you please tell me about him? Anything?"

The request wasn't that of the staunch Ironside, but rather that of a boy who dearly missed his dad.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: New Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber

Valery's gaze softened at Thirdas' plea, and she felt a surge of emotion wash over her. Her hand gently covered his on her shoulder, and she offered a tender squeeze of reassurance. It wasn’t the hardened soldier she saw before her now, but a son longing for his father.

“Your father, Thurion... He is a remarkable man, Thirdas,” Valery began softly. Her voice held a weight of deep admiration. “When I think of him, I see a man who has given his life in service of others, always putting their needs before his own. He's compassionate, wise, and carries a strength that isn’t just about battle prowess.”

She glanced down for a moment, reflecting on her friendship with Thurion over the many years they’d known each other.

“Even now, he leads with a grace and humility that’s rare. He speaks of you and your siblings often — the pride in his voice is unmistakable.” She paused, letting those words linger before continuing. “I’ve stood beside him in many battles, seen him face impossible odds. But it’s the love he has for his family that defines him more than anything else. He’s never stopped believing in you, Thirdas. No matter where life has taken you.”

Her fiery gaze locked with his, unwavering. “He misses you too, you know. So much. But I think he’s also very proud of the man you’ve become.” She gave him a small, sincere smile. “Even if you’ve inherited his stubbornness,” she teased gently, hoping to ease the heavy weight of homesickness with a touch of humor.

For a moment, Valery's hand brushed over the ring on her own finger, a distant look crossing her face. “You have his spirit, Thirdas. You always will, no matter where you are.”

Thirdas Heavenshield
​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

CORUSCANT
LOWER LEVELS
Valery Noble ​

Thirdas did not move — not one inch — for the duration of Valery's thoughts on his father, staring at her intensely throughout. He observed her lips move as each syllable was formed, each word uttered giving colour to the faded portrait of his father's face he'd kept stored in the recesses of his mind. It had been too dangerous and too precious to gaze upon too often for fear of feeding his genetic homesickness past the tipping point, forcing him to abandon his crusade and journey home.

He couldn't do that. Oaths had been taken; to his men, to the people of this war-torn galaxy, and now to the Sword of the Jedi. Yet as his new charge spoke of his father, Thirdas felt his father's features returning to his mind's eye. He'd remembered his voice well enough, for it spoke to him nightly; giving him strength as well as lulling him to sleep.

Father hadn't changed in the years since they last spoke, it seemed. By the time Valery had finished recounting her experiences, Thirdas' head sunk forward and he watched how silent tears fell from his cheeks. Upon looking back up at her, he clutched her and pressed it to his lips, giving it the gentlest kiss.

"Thank you, my lady," he sniffed, wiping his tears. "I needed to hear that."

"You must understand," he continued, more composed. "Midvinter's children all share a deep connection to Her. The farther and the longer we spend apart, the harder our hearts ache to return home and the harder it is to ignore Her summons, and I've ignored it for years. I thought my devotion to finding Nida would sate me, but now I find it is only the lure of battle that keeps me sane. The tougher the battle — the worse the odds of success — the better."

Thirdas peered down into his reflection upon his combat knife, seeing Ironside staring back at him.

"I drown my longing and personal needs in a maelstrom of blood. It's gotten to the point where I can no longer tell whether I kill in service to the people I seek to protect or to merely satisfy the conditions for my continued service. I am becoming a slave to the rush of combat, and one day it will get my men — my friends — killed. They are... too loyal, too confident in my command," he confessed, a damning testimony to his selfish perpetuation of violence.

"Were it up to me, I'd leave them all behind and march straight through the gates of hell to never return, thereby ending my suffering and granting them the chance at peace." He chuckled softly. "Only, they'd never let me go it alone."