Faction (GA/NJO) Ashla Roots

[Ilri Mel]

PLANET: TYTHON
LOCATION: NEW SETTLEMENTS

​

---

After the most recent skirmish within the Core Worlds, Tython was but one home reclaimed by the Alliance, and perhaps one of the most important. The Jedi were proud to step into their ancestral roots once more, and unlike their past selves, would not close-off Tython's mystical beauty to outsiders beyond the feel of the Force, as the conflicts across the modern galaxy tore down foundations, and left thousands homeless. Despite its importance to the Order, it was an ideal haven for refugees and new beginnings.

The Senate agreed with this motion, as Ilri Mel, of Kiffu, arranges the housing locations and placement of those in desperate need for new lives, working around the clock in conjunction with the Jedi, while the latter re-settled on their home roots and began rebuilding anew. It was said Tython would be the new central powerbase of the Jedi Order, aptly so. There was much work to be done on both parts.

However, even the brightest light cast darkest shadows. Lurking within the shades of Tython's vast forests and old ruins, restoring in their concealment, a malevolent force that threatens to undue everything both Jedi and Alliance seeks to uphold, on this ancestral world. The Drengir are awakening, and in their hive, no one was safe...

​

---

(Tags: OPEN)

There's an art to getting one's hand personally dirty, especially after the monotony of a recent Senate meeting, voting to keep Fondor as their central home. From one powerbase to another one building, this Senator had her hands full practically overseeing the constructing home of an entire planet. The Sith left their mark over the Jedis' ancestral home, and it was her job to help clean it up.

Well, correctly, moreso to clean up enough for the new settlers to start over, the Jedi had the ruins and Temple handled, but they can work in tandem and share resources and workers if required.

Under Tython's beautiful daytime, the sound of fallen rubble whipped about dark locks, Ilri tucked the datapad beneath her left arm, adjusted in care, while amber gaze snapped to the workers at hands, "Easy! We can't have the entire foundation collapse!"

The foreman, a rough Trandoshan, nodded and signalled for the hovercrane to lift up the collapsing rooftop with care, carrying it away to join the piled rubble that'd be ineffective for the peoples' new homes. Speaking of who, as she observed a Twi'lek and Togrutan child play around close by, making use of their new soil with reignited contentment.

Ilri had to smile, a little; the echoes of construction danced around her ears, standing in the centre of plaza of what would soon be a new village, that she felt priviledged to help found. Tapping down her 'pad to scroll the list, in case the Kiffar missed anything.

...Nope, everything seemed on the up and up. Well, apart from a few reported night terrors some of the refugees claimed, but Ilri chalked that to stress and uncertainty about settling in, after everything they've been through. It was perfectly natural to have those sensations. Ilri would be the first to say she hadn't had more than a few winks since overseeing the arrival of new materials and workers, but that's just life.

Didn't refrain the Kiffar's huff of weariness, at seeing an Aqualish bicker with one worker over the installment of a mechanical door. Probably preferred a different shade, or something...

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers |

The forest felt wrong. Tython's air was usually crisp — alive with the hum of the Force, woven through every tree and root like a song. But now, as Valery moved through the dense underbrush, her senses flared with unease. The sunlight filtered through the canopy in fractured beams, but it couldn't pierce the oppressive feeling creeping up from the ground.

"It's too quiet," she murmured, voice low but firm.

Beside her, Bee kept pace/ His sensors were extremely useful but they were hardly needed to understand that they weren't alone in the forest. Something was here. And it wasn't hiding very well. Valery stepped lightly, lightsaber hilt resting in her hand but unlit — for now.

"Reports said some of the settlers started having nightmares," she said over her shoulder. "Hallucinations. Then the disappearances began. That lines up too well with the old stories." She crouched by a tree root blackened and swollen, twisted unnaturally like it had been choked from within.

"The Drengir weren't entirely purged," she muttered. Then, to Bee — her eyes narrowing — "Let's make sure we get the last of them."

A distant hiss echoed through the woods. Valery stood tall, shoulders squaring as the first flicker of movement stirred deeper in the gloom.

"Stay close, Bee. We've got something hungry nearby."

BB-610 ​

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Amongst the construction was Minerva, clad in all her gear she stood facing the right edge of a large metallic panel laid on a table.Though instead of wielding a blaster she held a plasma torch in her left hand. Carefully she gripped the tool with both hands now, while activating it. Minerva then began to cut through the metal, carving a human sized section off the edge.

Once she was done, a worker droid tall as a Wookiee took hold of the piece and marched on its way toward one of the houses being built. Sighing in relief Minerva looked around this new settlement. It seemed promising though having grown up nomadic she couldn't be too sure.

Seeing a number of children of various species run by her in chase, Minerva smiled behind the helm. Subsequently her visor shifted nearby toward the manager of this whole operation, Senator Ilri Mel

For a bossy pen pusher she's at least not lazy.

Having been reinstated with the GADF, recently, Minerva hadn't expected this assignment. Though as she began to work on cutting another large slice Minerva reminded herself quietly.

While this planet is freed there could be nasty surprises the cultists and imps left behind. Hence why I'm here, to help keep an eye on things and hunt down whatever shows its ugly mug.

As such she took the rumors of living nightmares seriously. Having fought on a giant worm rampaging through Corscuant's streets the Mandalorian wouldn't be shocked if they were true.

Either way I'll be ready.

 

[Rath Nihro]

A W A K E N I N G

Location: Tython, New Settlement
Equipment: Outfit
Tag: Open

It was one thing to be held prisoner for the heinous deeds he and the Dark Empire had committed. Yet the dark haired man could only assume that they simply needed an extra set of hands or whichever to assist in rebuilding a new settlement upon Tython. Granted his choices were either this, or be stuck in the cage amongst the other Dark Empire personnel.

Frankly, Rath had very rarely visited Tython even when the Dark Empire had reigned over it. It wasn’t anything personal, but it was a matter of being dragged into other planets handling other affairs that called to his attention. Still, as he stood amidst the settlers, he had only felt a sense of unease in the air. Yet it was mingled with the united purpose for rebuilding what was lost. For the foundations of an empire, or a city all began similar to this. Rath wandered as he observed Tython's natural beauty now that the dark miasma had stopped infecting the skies. He was at least beginning to understand why the Jedi were so adamant in reclaiming this planet in particular.

The air no longer carried the stench of death as it usually did from what Rath could recall. His mind drifted back to reality at what he considered something of an anomaly. Or perhaps he had been wondering from one battlefield to another that he had almost forgotten the sounds of laughter as the children played their games. If it wasn't for the rebuilding efforts, one wouldn't have thought that they just had to fend off more than a handful of dark lords.

”Hurry it up, we still have to get ready for the next shipment of supplies and this area needs to be cleared out!” One of the refugees barked their orders as it spurred the men and women into action. Then an Trandoshan, who was the foreman of the crew, jabbed a scaly finger at Rath's direction.

”Since you helped created this mess, you take care of that!” As to what the Trandoshan was referring to happened to be that of a ruin as the building seemed to have collapsed in itself. It was a bunch of debris in a pile. Rath could argue that this happened before the Dark Empire laid claim to this planet, but he knew that they were all just begging him to give them a reason to lash out. So without a word, the dark haired man had reached for a plasma torch and a cart, yet he was denied of both as another refugee pulled them away.

”Uh uh, you have to actually get your little hands dirty for a change, Sithspit! I don’t care if it takes you all night to do it either!” It wasn’t necessarily important, but it was a double for provoking as it was them retaliating against Rath. It wasn't exactly a new treatment as far as Rath was concerned. It was either the veiled threats, or simply being treated like he doesn't exist. Either way, they simply wanted Rath to stay away from the settlers and from them as well.

Rath had glanced over at them for a moment before he simply sighed with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

”Suit yourself.” The lack of a confrontation wasn’t exactly what they were expecting as the dark haired warrior turned on his heel and began to carefully clear out the debris by hand. Where he was occasionally utilizing the Force to lift the heavy slabs of duracrete, and even used leverage to his advantage. The refugees could barely contain their discontent, but they had more important business to do so Rath was left alone for the most part.

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Location: Settlement Mess Hall
Objective: Nourishment, Mingling (to transition to action later)
Outfit: Jedi Robes, Armorweave underlay
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC), OPEN TO INTERACTIONS

Then:

​

No army could could work on an empty stomach, and that was especially true for one composed of builders and humanitarian workers charged with standing up a new settlement practically from the ground up.

After a supply run delivering foodstuffs and processing equipment, Kaldor had volunteered them to lead the effort of establishing the settlement's temporary mess hall. Sure, there was already a steady flow of rations, but that wasn't the same thing as sitting down to a proper, hot meal.

The assignment was...unexpected, to say the least. Disappointing if Mykel was honest with himself. The Padawan had his eye on a different kind of work, something more befitting the skills of a Jedi. Supposedly, Grandmaster Valery Noble herself was planetside, and he had been eager to meet the living legend of the Hyperspace Wars. In fact there were several other heroic figures about the settlement, people he had seen in Holonet reels growing up. The experience was thrilling for the Padawan, but also daunting. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd ever measure up to even a fraction of their achievements.

Mykel initially grumbled at the Consular, but he committed none the less. Hospitality wasn't foreign to him. Often, he had assisted his parents cooking meals for the Jedi Enclave back on Coruscul, so logistics in this particular realm came easy to him. He and Kaldor laid out a system with their team: first assembling the prefab units - from ovens, to storage coolers, and processing stations - slotting all the modules together for one central building. Then around that core structure, they erected rings of reinforced tents that would serve as the dining areas until more permanent structures could be established with the settlement's ongoing development.

Next came spinning up the cooking droids. One, unfortunately had a faulty processor unit busted during deep space flight and went rogue. Identifying nearby sentients as "ingredients" to be processed by its threatening array of blades and tools. Fortunately, despite the scare, Mykel was able to shut it down and repair before anyone was seriously harmed.

Once the physical structures were actually built up and running, they turned to the actual task of cooking. Mykel took the lead, drafting meal plans based on what ingredients were on hand and what they could likely expect with future ongoing shipments. It wasn't an easy task, as they were currently up to the mercy of whatever sympathetic governments and charities decided to send until set vendors could be established, but he made it work with simple recipes that could be easily modified with substitutions, like curries.

In the end, the turnaround from bare ground to full service only took about a couple days. Before long, the tents bustled with steady streams of workers and settlers, all being served with hot, hearty and delicious meals made with (mostly) fresh ingredients.

Initially, Mykel didn't care much for task, but over the process he became engaged as he worked out problems, his master purposely letting him take the lead to develop his communication and leadership skills. It wasn't just about snapping together modules and chopping onions, but also coordinating with several disparate bodies amid the shifting chaos of a growing settlement.

It was an important lesson in diplomacy, presented to Mykel by the Consular in the seemingly mundane frame of hospitality.

---

Now:

Mykel could finally sit back, unceremoniously sitting upon the top of upturned bins along with his master, munching on spiced tip-yip chicken wraps. With a moment to breathe, he could sit back and appreciate the construction happening all around them, feeling accomplished with his contributions.

Kaldor offered some praise in the end, commending his growth, his willingness to set aside his pride for the good of the mission on Tython. "There are many working parts to this effort," his master explained. "Support and hospitality may not seeming exciting, but they are just as vital as security and reconnaissance."

Mykel nodded, though inside the young Padawan still longed for the latter, to be at the tip of the spear. Especially now amid whispers of disappearances and other strange occurrences predating their arrival.

Even if no word of trouble had been spoken, he could still sense a disturbance. At first, he chalked it up to the turbulence created in the Force as the planet had been ground zero for several recent globe spanning conflicts. But after working on site for a while, he could feel something specific. Something closer, almost stalking. It was nearly suffocating to the empath, who had buried himself into his previous work to push the feeling out of his mind, but in respite, the dread was slowly rising again.

"There's something out there," he warned, looking at the treeline beyond the construction zones. "It feels predatory...dancing around the edges of my mind, but closing like a maw."

Kaldor sensed it too, agreeing with Mykel's instincts but offering caution. "First, it's important to help establish a strong foundation before we venture into the frontier. Defense is just as important as offence. In the meantime, we must meditate and hold the challenge at bay. "

"Yes master," he said simply, thumbing his mother's pendant around his neck for comfort, trying to wrangle his errant thoughts. A sliver of light amid the swirling gloom.

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: New Settlements, Tython |
| TAG: Valery Noble |

He could feel it. That suffocating air of tension that grew thicker the deeper they went, a sense of unease so turgid it showed its hand even to those not blessed with the Force. BB-610 stuck to Valery like glue, photoreceptors trained on the multitude of towering trees stretching beyond the horizon. They all blurred together.

Drengir — voracious predators; mindbreakers. He had fought them before, one of his earliest missions alongside the Galactic Alliance. It would have been nostalgic, perhaps, were it not for the damages he’d sustained that day.

The rays of sunlight had become scarce, dwindling down the winding path to the woodland’s belly. Darkness soon threatened them should they persist.

The droid whimpered. His lifeform scanner had lost a woeful amount of precision, surrounded by a plethora of fauna and flora alike as Tython’s forest swallowed them whole. BB-610 was on edge; the distant fluttering of wings as local wildlife took to the skies had gotten him jumping, chassis bumped against Valery’s leg whilst he trembled.

A monstrous bellow reverberated beneath them, the ground itself attempting to speak. The trees creaked from pressure unseen, a distinct rustling of foliage earning his attention. BB-610’s head snapped to the source, whining a soft coo of apprehension.

His scanner blinked, wavelengths further pinpointing an approaching body. It grew closer, dirt scattered, piles of unkempt shrubbery swayed back and forth. BB-610 turned, optic focused; a test to see whether fight or flight would activate first.

Something slithered, twisting and coiling with ease. Now on high alert, he cried — body swaying back and forth, flashlight clicking and aimed squarely at the encroaching beast——

A rattle. From out beneath the leaves poked a modestly sized serpent, harmlessly creeping past them in search of rodents. BB-610 paused, breathing a gruntled sigh of relief.

He hadn’t noticed the tendril coiling around Valery’s ankle.

 

[Ilri Mel]

LOCATION: NEW SETTLEMENTS

(Tags: OPEN)

Depsite recent misgivings, that were just overall tensions, Ilri saw no reason to halt production altogether, feeling as if everything was going to be fine... Or maybe it was the sleep deprivation.

Walking around the founding village, it didn't escape her notice Minerva Fhirdiad working hard, not too far. The sight of a Mandalorian present, helping while her people warred with the Alliance, incited a hopeful, relieved smile to Ilri's marked features. A promising sign peace may be accomplished, some point in the future.

But as the Jedi would say, focus on the present. About to check up on the smaller houses' construction when-

"Watch where you're aiming that, fool, you couldn't torn an arm up!"

"That'd be the least of your worries if you don't get out of my way!"

Lowering her 'pad, Ilri's amber narrowed to the sight of a worker and settler in heated discussion, drawing varied attention by the corner of the new settlement. And from their faces, it appeared as if there'd be blows to come at any second; with the foreman nearby too occupied, the Kiffar resolved to handle this, herself.

Striding forward with a determined disposition, she inquired firm, but negotiatable, "Is there a problem here?" The Zabrak and Quarren glared to the Senator, annoyed by the interruption before a potential come to blows.

The Quarren worker sneered, mouth-tendrils twitched in irritation while motioning with his power tool the villager's way, "This moron's walking around like he owns the place, while we're trying to finish our build!" Flat-out offended, the broad Zabrak countered with that hot, ill-temper known of his people.

"Maybe if you knew how to do your job, accidents wouldn't happen!" The inky black of the Quarren eyes leered.

"What did you say, fool?"

Ilri didn't like the way he raised that tool, and took another bold step, intervening. "Mistakes can be made, but remember while we're here." Fingers splayed between, hovered by the other humanoids' chests, the Senator offered diplomatically, "This project depends on mutual cooperation, let's just continue our respective tasks, shall we?"

The glare-down lasted longer than she would like, but Ilri managed to exhale silently in relief when the Zabrak backed off first, turning up his nose and walked back for his own assignment. But not before calling out heatedly over the left shoulder.

"I'm still counting on you to find my wife, Senator!" Ilri didn't miss the darkness under his eyes.

Shoulders slouched by that reminded, the open derision of the worker behind, didn't help in matters. "You're a long way from Fondor, Senator." Drawing her ticked eyebrow, yet the Quarren just stared down, nonplussed, "If you dislike confrontation, maybe your kind should flee to the Outer Rim, next time. Cowards are always in abudance there."

The Kiffar felt her jaw drop at the blatant disrespect, yet the Quarren worker resumed his activity, the encounter dismissed. It felt like a blow of the soul, that kind of callous remark, but Ilri was strong enough not to let a few, needless harsh words deter her, turning away and forced herself to focus on the overseering.

...So why did it feel so painful?

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"I thought this might be helpful."

As Rath Nihro took to quietly removing the rubble of a partially collapsed house, Cora appeared several steps away with a hovercart. She'd been unloading medical supplies when some of the wary refugees gave Rath a hard time, and had paused to watch. Their anger was understandable, but their behavior wasn't conducive to rebuilding what was lost.

Fortunately, Rath hadn't been provoked. It was a noticeable difference from the darksiders she'd encountered before him - even as they'd faced on the precipice of a duel, he seemed almost disconnected from all of the anger around him.

Gloved hands began sifting through the rubble, careful to avoid the sharper bits of rusted nails.

"When my home was attacked, I had helped to coordinate some of the relief efforts. When people lose everything, they sometimes take it out on what - and who - they can."

Cora glanced over to Rath as she guided a particularly large chunk of jagged stone into the cart. He'd been kept on a short leash since falling under Alliance custody, but the reports of his good behavior had reached her.

"How've you been faring, Rath?"

 

[Rath Nihro]

R E B U I L D

Objective: Helping the Settlers
Equipment: Outfit
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

It hadn’t gone amiss that Rath was aware of how those who grieved would lash out whomever they set their eyes on. It was a natural response, and it was often squashed whenever the conqueror, be they part of an Empire or Sith, made an example out of them. Rath could recall a time during the early stages of his training that he had even participated in such acts to quell the whispers of rebellion. Not just through brutality, but to destroy their own trust amongst each other. Individually they were hardly a problem, and so long as they didn't unite through sparks of hope. They’d remain that way.

Now here he was, hoisting the slabs of duracrete and rebar over his shoulders, some of it was easily twice his size. Yet through the Force that continuously flowed through his body, he treated them like sacks of potatoes. Not that he minded doing the laborious jobs for a change as it reminded him of the time that the people of Panatha rescued him after getting bombarded by the Mandalorians’ fleet. He had helped them in exchange for saving his life, and it was where he had reconstructed his sword into Storm Breaker through the slain Mandalorian’s armor.

The rubble groaned as he carefully plucked the debris from the pile to prevent it from suddenly collapsing. It was then that he caught a whiff of something sharp and sweet. Much like that reminded him of vanilla and mango that stood out in stark contrast to the stone dust and the moisture that hung in the air. The scent was a bit different than last time, but he recognized the Light that flowed through the individual. Rath had just turned with a small boulder over his head when Corazona von Ascania pulled up with a hovercraft.

"I thought this might be helpful." His brow raised out of curiosity, and culprit to old habits Rath immediately began to ponder as to whether this was simply a trick or not. As it might have been evident given the slight narrowness of his yellow eyes. Unlike before, Rath didn’t have a mask to cover his face, yet it still felt like he was wearing one at the same time.

’No, it couldn’t be a trap. They would’ve taken my head a hundred times by now if they wanted me dead or otherwise.’ Rath concluded as it was more of a reminder. Too often he came across many faces from colorful backgrounds who would place a false sense of security in order to gain some measure of trust. For the Sith was always conniving and eager to rise up in the ranks.

”I appreciate it.” Trust or not, Rath couldn’t argue that having a means to transport the debris would be helpful. He gently set down the boulder to the ground next to him as the dark haired warrior already had an idea for how to stack the slabs onto the craft. It was very much like putting together a puzzle for Rath, and he quietly listened to the Knight revealing a portion of her story. Yet he couldn’t help except to gather the notion that she was attempting to apologize for the settlers’ behavior from earlier.

His calloused hands were quick as he moved the debris with Corazona von Ascania assistance in separate piles, and essentially he placed the slabs as the foundation onto the hovercraft before placing the metal frames and broken pieces on top.

”A natural response to pain, but the only thing you can control is how you react the situation that’s handed to you.” Rath responded as stone dust had practically covered his hands. Spoken more out of experience on both sides of the conqueror and of the survivors. The dark haired human didn’t blame the settlers for retaliating, but their anger was certainly not helping their situation any better. He spared a glance at the Trandoshan foreman in the distance who was coordinating with the crew. Only his attention was pulled back to the blonde Knight as she inquired how he was feeling.

He blinked, and after a moment he slightly tilted his head as if it was the strangest thing to ask. In truth he had very little interaction amongst the Jedi outside of battle, and really the only ones that bothered to tolerate his presence were either buried or remain hidden from the galaxy.

”...Well, I’m still breathing, so that counts for something. Right?” It might not be a direct answer, but sarcasm was said to be a medicine in its own right. Or at least that’s what Rex used to say. Now that the name came to surface, Rath couldn’t help except wonder how Rex was faring lately. Was the meekly soldier still alive? Rath wondered, yet since the Eternal Empire’s fall it was like everyone went about their separate ways. If nothing else, Rath hoped that Rex was faring better than himself.

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Ilri Mel

The warrior had just finished craving a fifth slab of metal for the heavy droid to take. Removing the helmet she wiped the sweat from her brow. Of course Minerva can imagine quite a number of people who would think that most of her Mandalorian gear was unnecessary for construction. Well there were a few reasons why she was doing it this way.

One, Minerva wanted to show folks here that there is at least one Mandalorian in the galaxy who is willing to help them. Whether they still hate or fear her is their own business but she would be doing what is right nonetheless. The second reason is because she wants to hold onto her heritage, to remind herself that no matter what the Neo-Crusaders do, she will follow the Way in her own interpretation, not theirs. As for the third cause, it's in case of potential trouble like what she had thought of earlier. Of course there is a fourth reason, Minerva did at times feel out of place in public if not in armor.

Just then a young dark blue Duros boy, holding a water canteen in his right hand, offered it. Minerva's scarred lips formed a grateful smile. Of course she had her own canteen but the warrior really appreciated the boy's kindness. Accepting it Minerva took a good swig of the water, letting out a satisfied sigh.

Handing the canteen back Minerva said. "Thanks kid, what's your name?"

"Hugo…Hugo Ion." The boy said, looking up at the armored warrior before him. Quickly he asked in return.

"What about you? I m-mean…your name."

Suppressing the urge to chuckle at the kid's stammering she gave him.

"Minerva Fhirdiad, daughter of Jorel from Clan Merrik."

He arched his head in question.

"Is he a famous warlord among your people?"

She shook her head.

"No Hugo he wasn't but that doesn't make me any less proud of being his daughter. My father was no saint but still a good man who raised me to be the warrior I am today."

"Does that include building houses for strangers?" Hugo wondered out loud.

The little Duros does ask a lot of questions. This time she laughed.

"Not exactly but he lived and died trying to do what's right. I'm upholding that legacy in my own way. Now run along I think I see your folks coming over."

Looking back Hugo did see his parents walking this way. Subsequently he called out to Minerva as she took her leave.

"It was nice meeting you Minerva. Come for dinner, my mom makes the best stew."

Those words earned another smile from Minerva. Sometimes it was so easy for her to assume everyone in the galaxy hated or feared her for what others who wear beskad and hailed from the same culture as she does. Hugo just reminded her that she was wrong and Minerva was glad for it. Just as she put on the helemt again Minerva the commotion with the Zabark and Quarren meters away.

Rolling her eyes she was half tempted to pull out one of her blaster pistols and stun them so they could shut up for a little bit. Fortunately for them, the Senator intervened and eventually got them both to strand before they came to blows. However, the politician wasn't spared their ire.

Within the visor Minerva grimaces at the horned man's demand. She had heard about that disappearance. When the squid faced worker said his piece the Mandalorian rolled her eyes.

Minerva couldn't help but comment to Ilari as she approached.

"I bet two hundred credits he wouldn't dare call Rimmers cowards if he was on one of their planets like Tatooine."

Shrugging her shoulders she added.

"Then again that idiot probably believes himself safe to say that crap here in the Deep Core.“

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Location: Settlement Mess Hall
Objective: Investigating Missing Soldiers (working my way to converging with Valery and BB)
Outfit: Jedi Robes, Armorweave underlay
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC), Valery Noble , BB-610

There was little time to meditate, as a new problem came running right up to the pair. It was Megan, one of the team leads overseeing mess hall operations, the young Sergeant's brow slick with sweat and urgency sharp in her eyes.

"Master Vexis, Apprentice Dawson, apologies for interrupting your break, but we have a problem."

Both Jedi turned to face her as she caught her breath.

"Two of our unit, Corporal Veil and Private Hallick, went out this morning to drop rations with the clearing crew on the east perimeter. The workers got the supplies, but neither Veil nor Hallick ever checked back in. No comms. No transponders. No trace at all." Her lips pressed tight before she added, "That's the third incident this week, and the first since you two arrived here."

She glanced between them, tone grim. "We started sending armed teams out in pairs because of this. But the clearing crew says they never saw them leave. One minute they were there, and then they weren't."

A brief silence stretched between them. Then Mykel stood, the crinkle of his food wrapper loud in the hush.

"We'll go check it out, Megan."

He had volunteered the pair even before consulting with his master, but when he glanced back at Kaldor, he was offering a steady nod of approval.

"Thank you for coming to us with this, Sergeant Garth. We'll take it from here and provide you with updates," he informed Megan, then turned his attention back to Mykel. "Gear up. We'll retrace their path, and track them from the point of their last sighting."

Mykel nodded, then activated his comlink to hail his droid.

"Hey buddy," he called to Puck. "Warm up the fighter, we may have a search and rescue mission on our hands. Prepare to establish an orbit for overwatch."

So he finally had gotten what he wanted, now right on the tip of the spear, but already he was missing the quaint tasking of mess hall duty. People under his direct command were now relying on him, and if he failed they may end up missing forever.

 

[Jack Wright]

LOCATION: TYTHON JEDI TEMPLE

The old home wasn't just a symbol of peace and unity, for all the Jedi that're finally coming home after unfortunately booted off by ancient enemies, but also a source of great inspiration.

The serene temple sparked a newfound sense of courage... No.

Invigoration of courage? Nah.

Reignited? ...Yeah, that'll do.

The serene temple ignited newfound courage, stepping upon soil and stone tread by his ancestor, a long, long time ago...

Long, long time?

Perhaps years before the enemy?

No, too on the nose.

Lowering his 'pad, the cross-legged Knight perched atop a small boulder felt Tython's smooth winds caressed short locks, revelling in the spectacale of the reconstructing home. It wouldn't be so long now, before the temple of millennias - claimed once more - would be finished to fit this time and place, a new headquarters that'll never be squandered again, for as long as Jack breathes.

Sat just before the entrance, it was a fantastic view of the Temple courtyard, being re-modelled just as the rest of the building and interior. Perhaps they'll have outside training droids like the old days, maybe even some duel rings; nothing like fresh air while sparking lightsabers danced under Tython's sun.

Adjusting on the boulder, Jack continued with his writing, ignited himself to jot down new stories; having a suffered a bit of a block on arrival, to this serene world. Force knows why, but of course he heard the rumours, though the Jedi preferred to deal in fact than speculation.

Vanishing workers, townsfolk, even soldiers... People suffering harsh nightmares; Jack wouldn't lie when he said his own dreams weren't that pleasant, of late. But any common being would chalk that up to restlessness.

And the Force, it wasn't as tranquil as one would expect; again, written up to the recent scars the Sith left behind. But even so, there were dozens of Jedi across their re-taken home, surely there're enough to handle any stragglers...

Yes?

Shrugging with a hint of nervousness, Jack resumed his own novel-practice, writing down whatever source of inspiration struck. Slightly more difficult now with the tad of gloom and doom he just bestowed upon his own person-

Snapping his hazel eyes over the right shoulder, to the direction of the trembling forests.

The 'pad lowered, suddenly all desires to continue squashed from the gut-wrenching sensation, a close ally was in trouble. One whom Jack had been acquainted with, several times before; the forest whispered in shadowed urgency, beckoning the young Knight to come and aid his ally... If he so dared.

Jack already hopped off the rock before he realized, pocketing the datapad and adjusted armoured robes, expression abruptly stoic. Even just one foot close, there was a shrill drumming, bouncing around within his brain, goading him to linger and stall like some kind of coward. But instead, two hands gripped onto respective blue and violet blades.

What kind of self-respecting Guardian would flee?

Jack raced with Force-enhanced Speed straight towards the forest's edge, grass and river water kicked up in his wake. Even if whatever presence blocked him from sensing out the ally, that didn't stop him from sensing out them.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers |

The warning came too late — not from her mouth, but through the prickling sensation along her skin, the way the Force screamed at her a split second before the tendril wrapped around her ankle.

Valery's eyes widened. Too close.

The world tilted.

With a sudden snap, the vine-like tendril yanked her off her feet and into the air. Her lightsaber ignited mid-fall, a sharp snap-hiss cutting through the unnatural stillness of the forest. Violet light seared through the twisting appendage in one clean arc, slicing it before it could tighten. She landed in a crouch — graceful, fluid, dirt and moss scattering beneath her boots.

"Bee, watch out!" she shouted, spinning toward him as more tendrils burst from the underbrush around them — from tree trunks, from beneath the forest floor, from seemingly everywhere. The ground itself shuddered as the Drengir began to rise — hulking, pulsing forms, their maws splitting open with jagged teeth that dripped sap-black ichor. Their minds pressed out like smoke, oily and invasive. Hunger. Hunger. Hunger.

Valery bared her teeth and stood tall, saber humming in her grasp.

"No more nightmares," she growled. "Not on our watch."

She lunged into the fray, her blade already moving to intercept the first writhing strike. All around her, the forest came alive with the hiss of Drengir.

BB-610 Mykel Dawson ​

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: New Settlements, Tython |
| TAG: Valery Noble | Mykel Dawson |

His focus snapped to Valery in an instant, startled by the abrupt attack. BB-610 screamed out to his friend, not hesitating in charging forward as the Jedi was heaved into the air with all the grace of a ragdoll.

A tool-bay disk slid open, though the astromech’s worries took a turn for the worse before it could see any use; Valery defended herself swiftly, a blur of purple slicing through the intruding appendage. BB-610 was not quite so lucky.

He’d been raised skyward, forced to balance on one of many tendrils seeking to snatch him up. BB-610’s balance soon ran out, slipping off his makeshift platform’s edge before it flickered forth to ensnare his chassis.

The Drengir rose from the depths of the earth, bellowing with low, disgusting growls. It studied its would-be meal with a deep scrutiny, squirming helplessly within its grasp as access to his disks was blocked by ropes of botanical flesh. BB-610 felt an ensuing crunch of internal equipment, yelping and pleading. Seemingly disgruntled, the Drengir squeezed his chassis.

Being a droid, BB-610 suffered no ill consequences at the hands of the beast’s mental corruption. The creature unleashed a sordid roar, threatening to knock the astromech’s head clean off, dissatisfied with its catch.

Not finding him to be of sustenance, BB-610 was summarily discarded, a whipcrack of one vine-like limb cutting through the air like butter as he was FLUNG directly at Valery, whose organic nature was viewed much more favorably.

Meat ..
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Meat …
‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Meat . . .

A cacophony of voices all cried out in unison, more and more tentacles swarming her feet, eager to feast on mind and body alike.

 

[Raphael Gallustrade]

Raphael standing by the side of his ship, he looked over the area that was Tython. He put the blaster pistol away, and kept his lightsaber within the pocket of his jacket, and clipped Unadorned to his belt. Then, he turned back to the world of Tython and looked over the forest, nearby. There was something in there that he didn't like. Or, perhaps, that didn't like him. He turned away from the forest, trying to save his eyesight, as the black splotches were all over his vision.

He took a few steps towards the smaller settlement that he'd landed near. It was one of the newer ones, a few prefabricated buildings, nothing major. They seemed largely to be farmers, refugees, trying to get away from the rest of the galaxy.

It was, in ways, something that he could get behind. He liked people getting new starts, especially as far away from the Sith Order, and mandalorians, as possible. Yet... even here it didn't seem like they were completely safe. He watched as people walked around. This was more of an outpost from the nearby settlement.

He looked down and saw a root... it was... black...? Why in the world was it like that? And what was this weird pressure in his head?

 

[Ilri Mel]

LOCATION: NEW SETTLEMENTS

(Tags: Minerva Fhirdiad , OPEN)

Upon being addressed by one of their most unique presence, Ilri smiled wryly while pushing back a loose strand of dark hair, offering half-apologetic to the Mandalorian after seeing that display, "We're under a lot of pressure."

Even then, the excuse just sounded hollow to her ears. The Kiffar grimaced, when a sudden collapsing noise only proved her point.

A crane's work gone awry, as material descended haphazardly just smashing into the side of a constructing home, villagers startled and workers darted back and forth, wondering who to blame.

Feeling more manual management inbound, Ilri straightened her shoulders for a second. Throwing her new acquaintance a low, if weary smirk. "You're probably use to all... This." Side-eyeing the stewing glares, between settlers and workers alike.

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Ilri Mel Open

At the accident that followed Minerva had to fight the urge to sigh. When the senator made her subsequent remarks her Mandalorian acquittance shrugged.

"That and fear. Though at times indifference and even curiosity. It is only natural."

She marched along with Kiffar's representative Minerva prepared herself, hearing the shouting between workers and settlers, growing louder. She didn't envy what Ilri had to do next but it's better than letting a riot occur without trying to prevent it. Staying next to her Minerva added.

"The name is Minerva Fhirdiad, Captain, Defense Forces and I know who you are, Senator. Command told me to keep watch over this settlement. I'll let you handle that mess over there first and hopefully I won't have to intervene with stun bots nor fists."

Of course if the people insist on fighting which would threaten the innocent and compromise security she won't back down. Minerva didn't want it to come to that and preferred they listen to Ilri instead.

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Location: Fringes of Tython Settlement
Objective: Rescue Lost Soldiers, Assist Valery in the field
Outfit: Jedi Robes w/ Armorweave Underlay
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC), Valery Noble , BB-610
Equipment:
-Lightwhip
-Yeti Tensor Rifle
-Cryoban Grenades
-Medkit

While the presence of the Drengir had not been confirmed in this particular area, it was assumed that there were still some lurking like stubborn weeds after the Alliance previous encounter during the Core Wars and reported disturbances were consistent with their behavior. Mykel and Kaldor prepared accordingly, in case their investigation turned to something hostile. However, everything about the Drengir remained theoretical to Mykel who had never faced them before. If he was honest, a part of him hoped it remained that way.

When ready, they mounted up and kicked up dust, their speeder bikes howling eastward along the perimeter trail. Mykel gripped the bars tighter than usual.

"You ever seen them before?" he asked through comlink over the roar of wind and engine.

Kaldor's voice filtered through his comm, low and tight. "Once, during my days in the Concord. I had been part of a Silver Jedi strike team, cornering a Sith Alchemist and his acolytes to his stronghold. There, we stumbled upon his one of his most terrible experiments. Recently spawned Drengir spores. The fool, thought he could weaponize them for some future campaign. He should have known better as it was his ancient cohorts who had been the ones to seal them originally."

A beat passed.

"Ironically, he would die to them during the ensuing battle. They tore his mind apart before the body followed. Several of us fell to them too. Perhaps our only saving grace was that the Drengir then were relatively young and weak at the time, or our ignorance would have doomed us all that day. They are relentless, attacking you both both in mind and body with a withering assault like a pack of Vornskr. They are difficult to strike down as they only seem to grow like a hydra against our usual weapons. I found them to be one of the purest expressions of the Dark Side, a malignant hunger that can never be sated."

Mykel didn't respond. There wasn't much to say. The Force pulsed uneasily through the soil here. Old roots. Older hungers.

---

When they arrived, the chief of the clearing crew was already gathered near the treeline, being interviewed by a GADF junior officer, Lieutenant Kensington. Mykel dismounted as Kaldor moved to speak with them, eyes already sweeping the area. Something definitely felt off. Even more than before.

"Puck," he said into his comlink, "I need real-time scans on this location. Focus on transponder signals and lifeform clusters, tight radius."

A miniature holo-display quickly flickered into existence from Mykel's wrist mounted comlink. He was only able to study the display for a few moments right before his vision flashed with a sudden spike of pain through his skull, dropping him to his knees with a yelp.

"Ugh," he choked out, clutching his temple. He wasn't there anymore.

In his minds eye, Corporal Veil was glancing over his shoulder.

Private Hallick vanishing into the tangled brush.

No blaster fire. Just...quiet.

Then the call. Sickly sweet. Drawing them in.

A deeper pull now, familiar from earlier, but greatly magnified. Closer. Hungrier...

"Mykel!" Kaldor's hand was on his shoulder, grounding him, pulling him out of it.

He blinked. Kensington was yelling into his own comm. The clearing crew was fleeing while more GADF troopers appeared forming defensive positions, hauling out mortar cannons, incendiary repeaters, and mobile field generators.

"The hell's happening?" Mykel managed, still catching his breath.

Kaldor pointed to the projection from his own comlink. On display there were several glowing outlines beneath the canopy, almost positive to be Drengir. Several converging right on this area.

"Drengir, but also transponders," Kaldor explained. "Puck found them, but they're moving, likely being carried away by the Drengir for Ashla knows what. And we picked up on a humanoid reading...paired with a spike of lightsaber energy, though their identity hasn't been confirmed."

"I'm going," Mykel said without hesitation, standing straighter now. The headache lingered, but the fog was clearing. His mother's pendant around his neck glowed faintly with Force Light, warmth radiated from it like a tether to center him.

"You collapsed," Kaldor reminded him. Not unkindly. "You're still shaking."

"I know what I felt," Mykel replied. "But I'm not running from it. Those soldiers, and that Jedi, need our help. If we wait for reinforcements, then we could lose them all right now."

The older Jedi stared at him for a long moment. Then he gave a slight nod.

"Let's move."

They remounted, speeding into the treeline. As they passed through the boundary of the forest proper, the air changed. Denser, darker, and full of whispers Mykel didn't want to hear. But Kaldor's presence was calm and sure beside him. And through the miasma of dark intent, the flicker of his pendant burned steady, like a lone torch in a tunnel.

---

Overhead, plugged into Mykel's Jedi Starfighter, Puck was currently tracking four subjects of interest: Two soldiers, a possible Jedi, and...an astromech.

An idea struck the orbiting droid.

::Attempting contact...::

Puck hailed it across open emergency frequencies with data bursts. Unlike glacially slow audio binary with fleshy sentients, such digital exchanges could occur nearly instantaneously between droid units, such in the time Puck observed the BB-unit below throttling through the air like a shockball.

// BB-unit on the ground, this is Designate XX Puck, providing aerial overwatch on orders of Jedi Padawan Mykel Dawson of the New Jedi Order. Requesting credentials.
// Tracking multiple hostiles. Datalink available for sensor fusion.
// Recommend defensive maneuvering to clearing at Grid Delta-12. Support inbound.

Puck patiently waited the next few milliseconds for a response before taking further action.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

There was a flicker of distrust in the darksider. Cora could feel Rath's gaze on her, trying to discern whether or not she had an ulterior motive.

She was reminded of the way her fellow nobles would appraise one another in the courts of Ukatis. Trust was a rare currency in a place where scheming to climb your way to the top of the power structure was rewarded.

Not unlike the Sith, really.

Cora hummed quietly in thought. "I suppose that it does count for something, yes."

For a while, there was only the sound of debris shuffling and clattering as they worked their way through the rubble. The silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable.

Rath was a dangerous prisoner, but he'd seemed uninterested in trying to escape - or even harm - his captors. His docile nature had eventually earned him small measures of freedom, even if he was suppressed and under constant watch.

"Why didn't you fight back when we came to the temple?"

Rath Nihro

 

[Ilri Mel]

LOCATION: NEW SETTLEMENTS

(Tags: Minerva Fhirdiad , OPEN)

Any company's better than hostile company.

She nodded, smiling thankfully for the civil greeting, "Of course, keep up the great work, Captain Fhirdiad," Memorizing names was important; showing a gesture of care and one's commitment to the work.

Blowing out a soft breath, the politician straightened her back and strode over to the ticking timebomb, as workers bickered amongst themselves. The more the voices grew, the recognition Ilri would have her work cut out for her, and it came to questionably blows?

Well, she came prepared.