Faction [GA] The Hapan Crisis

[Delila Castillon]

Was Delila doing anything interesting before agreeing she'd help Starchaser move things around in Hapan space? Not at all. A few little runs. A mercenary job. Speaking to the other about various wars and battles they had both seen. It was odd to retell some of her stories. Most times she didn't bother - no one was interested in hearing what a wash up former soldier had to say. She was, in essence, just a decade away in age from becoming one of those crazy old spacers she encountered at bars and spaceports.

Could be worse.

"This is what happens when you put too many pretty women in charge of things. Pecking order gets out of whack."

A grin tossed in the direction of Starchaser as she joked. Rain was pouring down, making things incredibly worse. It appeared they were at some Palace - which meant upkept landscaping so things hadn't turned to mud. Yet. The way the injured were coming inside the compound without pause meant soon it was going to be an absolute mess. She hoped to be clear of this zone by then and off to dropping off other supplies. Starchaser had been doing the piloting, she had been the co-pilot and hired muscle. Someone to help watch his back while they unloaded things. The amount of ghouls that would attack a humanitarian drop was astounding.

Not even she would do that.

Approached by a woman, Delila shook her head no.

"I have been trained in combatant first aid. Beyond that...I'm great at destruction, not so much on the life saving. Sorry."

The redhead looked towards Starchaser, waving his unlit lightsaber around. Typical Jedi. An interesting one but still, as much as he tried not to convince himself, and to an extent her, the more his actions showed how entrenched he was in their teachings. Amusing to her, especially since she noted he was trying to prove himself to her. For whatever reason, she was a nobody.

"Go ahead and play hero. I'll finish up here, I'm more useful doing this."

Jared Starchaser | Zhea Nox ​

 

[Lycus Merita]

Objective Two

The 283rd
Chapter Two: The Siege​

Tags: Ben Khal , Drystan Creed , Aadihr Lidos , Karrys , Azurine Varek ,

The deluge of ATGMs fell silent, allowing the 283rd to continue onwards with its attack. More and more, the Hapan flank was being rolled over. Keep this up just a bit longer, and the entire Hapan forces would disintegrate without having to annihilate them. Already, Merita's men had taken several of their Royal Guard as POWs.

Merita decided to keep pushing both this man and luck just a bit further.

“Gunship inbound,” Captain Compton's voice suddenly announced over comms, his voice steady but tinged with confusion. “It's not any Hapan craft I know. One of ours in this AO?

“There shouldn’t be,” Major Merita muttered, turning away from the carnage to the skies, “I didn't request any fire sup-"

The gunship was entering a trajectory to fly low and fast heading towards the 283rd. His eyes went wide. He knew what that meant. He had seen it before.

An attack run.

"All Pathfinders get down!" he bellowed into the comms on every single line, not giving a kriff about signals security.

Too late.

"Get do-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the sound. That infamous, soul-rattling growl. The twin rotary blaster cannons of Bloodhound unleashed their fury. The staccato roar of the blaster bolts tore through the air, and the ground erupted in violent eruptions of dirt, water, and metal shards.

A Puma, Alpha Three of Gurrcat Company, was the first victim. The vehicle shuddered violently as armor-piercing bolts ripped through its hull, slicing through steel like paper. Sparks and flames burst from its sides as the munitions detonated fuel and ammunition cells. A fireball erupted, sending chunks of twisted metal hurtling across the battlefield, decapitating a Pathfinder nearly a hundred meters away.

The dismounted Pathfinders near Alpha Three were stuck in the open when the next burst of fire cut through them like a scythe. Men were thrown to the ground, their bodies torn apart or vaporized by the high-velocity cannon rounds. The farm fields were painted red, and the screams of the wounded deafened the sound of whizzing blaster bolts.

The Puma to Merita's right was struck next. The bolts tore through its side, igniting the vehicle's weapon fuel cells. Flames shot out of the hull breaches as the vehicle was swallowed by the flames. The repulsor lift engines gave out causing the Puma to slew to the side and crash into the paddy field.

"We've still got men in that Puma! Holy shit, they can't open the hatches!" Merita's secondary gunner, Lieutenant Winters, cried, already leaping from the Command IFV. Merita followed without hesitation, sprinting toward the burning Puma.

"Get them out of there!" Garrison shouted. "Move! Move!"

A group of Pathfinders waded through the waist-high water and Hapan blaster fire. They reached the Bradley and tried to pry open the rear hatch, but it was sealed tight, the heat warping the metal. The vehicle groaned as it shifted, sinking deeper.

"Help us!" a voice screamed from inside, raw and broken. "Please, God, help us!"

The Puma was half-submerged now, the water surging in through the breaches in the hull. The raging flames inside hissed violently as the cold swamp water rushed over them, but the fire was so fierce that it didn't make a difference.

They were drowning, boiling, and burning to death.

"I don't want to die like this! Mama!"

The screams inside grew more frantic. A Pathfinder banged helplessly on the turret hatch with the butt of his rifle while another attempted to pry open a gap in the hull with a crowbar large enough for the crew inside to crawl out. Merita tried the driver's hatch but slipped and fell back, his hands seared raw from trying to grab the superheated metal.

"No. No. No-" Merita gasped already trying to get back up to his feet. Maybe if they tried the escape hatch on the vehicle's underside...

The Puma gave a final, terrible groan before slipping beneath the surface of the paddy field and into the mud, the last of its flames extinguished in a cloud of steam and smoke.

For a moment, the Major stood there. Stunned. Chest heaving. His burned fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Zoist. This was the humiliation at Zoist all over again.

The sound of the Gunship's howling engines brought him back. He looked upwards, managing to catch the insignia etched on the side of its wings. He remembered it from the intelligence briefings. A small element of their kind had been operating in the area, assisting the GADF with elite squads and fire support.

Mandalorians.

Every molecule of his being wanted to find that pilot and strangle the life out of their throat with his bare hands, but his men needed him. Here. Now.

Seeing the 283rd reel in the face of the blue-on-blue incident, the Hapans were now launching their counterstroke: an entire company of Main Battle Tanks. There was no more point fighting in the open. The Air-Assault had done their duty in at least breaking off the initial attack on the village.

"Dog and Gurrcat Company!" he activated his comms-set, "We are pulling back to the village. I repeat, we are pulling back to the village. Staggered formation. Frog company will be covering our withdrawal. Compton, I need you personally watching that right flank. It's about to buckle. Everyone else, pop magnetic smoke to show we're Alliance forces. And someone try to find what Mandalorian air units are doing in our sector!"

Each Puma and platoon ignited their signal flares, bellowing blue light visible on all sensor spectrums.

"It's Mandalorian!" Merita yelled back at Drystan Creed and Aadihr Lidos , "I don't know what the hell they're doing here, but they ain't supposed to be firing on us! It's going to take a second for us to adjust our sets to their frequency and hail them. In the meantime, I need your and our friend's help. My vehicles can transport wounded and parry an armored thrust. But they can't do two at the same time."

---

Commander Iram looked at the burning Puma wreckages with a grin spreading across her face. This insolence and defiance ended now.

"This is Commander Iram. Confirming hit on target, Bloodhound. The Queen shall be grateful for Mandalore's support," she replied to Karrys , "Requesting further gun and missile runs on the enemy force until it is destroyed. Disregard that blue smoke. Crimson Veil forces appear to have also captured Alliance signal smoke. I had a low estimate of them before but to resort to such perfidy? Pathetic. Even for their kind."

She didn't seem to notice the irony in her words.

 

[Rik Perris]

Enroute to Perimiter
Foundation Forward Camp - Djo Estate
Ta'a Chume Dan

I’m moving out to the perimeter if anyone wants to come with me. Keep doing what you’re doing.

Want? There was no decision to be made.

"You heard him, let's go. Move quickly."

“With you."

The last time Rik Perris had set foot on Hapes some four to five years before, he had met the very woman he was now, to some extent, here for. That was a good stretch of personal memories in the midst of the work that had defined a third of his life to this point; work that meant when he settled into the transport to go maintain the security of the staging ground for the Foundation’s humanitarian operations in the capital, it was an overly familiar thing.

Only difference being that he wasn’t travelling with soldiers and military hardware in this active conflict zone that was, at its most simplistic take, a far more complex, deeply entrenched, and costly version of what he had deliberately embedded himself into, a multitude of times in the past: this was a rebellion against another empire.

And he was here just as much as a matter of principle. As the transport sped over rough terrain towards their destination, Rik remained quiet, calm, and collected, an ear to the discourse between the two women, uncertain about their distinct views, vis-a-vis the conflict and its involved parties, or those of anyone else in the group… but the de-facto Shirayan Grandmaster was right: every weaponised Hapan group with a stake in this conflict was a potential risk.

There would be space enough for discussion, at some other point in time.

“Incapacitate or disable where possible if dialogue is not an option,” he added after Briana finished speaking, referring to whatever forces were assailing the refugees, “I’ll manage crowd-control if we have need of it.” Then, to be certain, he took a softer tone: “And try to remain objective - that goes for everyone.”

He knew without a doubt that Briana was hurting and could sympathise to an extent - though he couldn’t explicitly commiserate with her on the exact reason, he’d had to confront the loss of his Master at the young age of fifteen, and losses of his great-grandfather and comrades at other junctures since - and he could guess that the bulk of this group also sympathised with her pain, perhaps almost to a fault, but managing perceptions was also a pertinent piece of this puzzle.

He’d made sure to discreetly let Briana know before arriving at the Ducha’s estate that she could come to him, if it all became too much to manage at any point. She wasn’t the only one he had to think about, though, as his new padawan, Ceri Fraissi , had been at that bloody wedding - what impact that might have had was worrying for one so young, and he'd hardly had the chance to scratch the surface of it since meeting her - but he would save ruminating further on that fact, for the transit back to Naboo.

Best to focus on the task at hand.

Mother Askani • Briana Sal-Soren • Caltin Vanagor
Lorn Reingard • Thayze Montserrat • Echo Athoth • Kahne Porte​

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Moonside Inn - Hapes
| Objective | Hostage Rescue - Making Entry

With a team like this, Jenn felt confident in their chances of success.​

​

Ryk had all but saved the House on Echnos, turning a complete rout into a more organized, if no less ruthless retreat; though she had been too busy fighting the Dark Destroyer to notice at the time, Karrys had later relayed to her the helmet recording of the young Hastati waving the flag of the New Mandalorians to rally the troops as their morale seemed about to break, paying no heed to his missing arm - crying out in Mando'a until his voice failed him, and his squad finally dragged his courageous form from the field of battle. Even now, her eyes lingered on the prosthetic he had been given, and how well he seemed to be dealing with the trauma of losing a limb, having strapped a buckler to the cybernetic arm to better fill his duty as a breacher.​

​

Refocusing when Rayia and Haliat confirmed their adherence to her plan, she allowed herself a measure of satisfaction. Though she would certainly never have pegged either of the two as proficient in stealth, she knew better than to underestimate a fellow Mando'ad, much less one made worthy of joining the prestigious ranks of her honor guard; to say nothing of Rayia's unique physiology, nor her skills, Padawan or not. Her thoughts flittered on over to the woman they were here to rescue, then. How poorly their first meeting had went. How much enmity they held for one another. The mutual respect borne of Jenn's contrition after leaving the Enclave behind. The repeated stands they made, back-to-back against Imperials and Crusaders. ​

​

It set a fire in her heart. Though she held the utmost confidence in the Ukatian's skill, she would not leave things to chance, not when a friend was in danger. ​

​

"Prazad, get that door open. Quietly."​

​

"Executing."​

​

One of the Hastati broke from the perimeter established, testing the lock of the door. When he found it closed, he knelt down in front of it and went to work with his access kit, picking the lock in record time and pushing the door open with the tip of his blaster afterwards. Silence reigned over the squad as they looked down at the stairs leading to the topmost floor...​

​

"Squad, turn off your speakers."​

​

This would ensure that any spoken word would be carried through the integrated comms, but not quite so audible from outside, blocked by the helmets so emblematic of her people. Slowly, carefully, Jenn headed down, motioning for Haliat and Rayia to fall in behind her. Although the hostile contacts detected by Rayia would not hear them speak unless directly in front of them, it was best not to risk it - and besides, the Felucatian was without a helm, herself. as a result, keeping vocal communication down to a minimum would be paramount. ​

​

It had been too long since Jenn last engaged in such a thrilling hunt, slowly creeping up on her target like this, her wrist-mounted vibroblade coming out with a faint shuk. Traditionally, most Mandalorians chose to have the small, extensible vibroblades mounted on the knuckle area of their gauntlet; Jenn, however, had her own mounted closer to her wrist, preferring the breadth of motion it gave her. Slicing, rather than punching through. ​

​

Three targets, all of them distracted by a short discussion among themselves, followed by one of the three banging against a door. Had one of the guests managed to stay hidden all this while? Perhaps they could help the squad get a clearer view of the situation... and besides, the Duchess had no desire to leave things up to chance. These terrorists may very well just start killing hostages, if they began to feel pressed, or found themselves met with resistance from them.​

​

The Mandalorian fell on her target with the deadly elegance she ever sought to embody. Her blade was stuck in his throat before he even had the time to register his presence, the last thing he ever saw the pitiless visage of her T visor staring down at him as her free arm accompanied his fall to dampen it. There was no passion in the act, no savage joy. It was nothing more than something that needed to be done. Only once his body went limp did she turn her gaze to the rest other two to assess how well they had acquitted themselves of their task.​

​

<Top floor's clear, possible civilian held in one of the adjoining rooms. Hastati, head on down and establish a perimeter covering the stairs, be ready to take out any reinforcements; this patrol is going to be missed eventually. Get clearing those rooms as well.>​

​

Quietly did the auxiliaries head down the stairs, blasters at the ready as they fell into position. Jenn, for her part, turned towards Rayia and Haliat. By far the pair with the better... tact, among the strike force. More empathy.​

​

"See if you can get this civilian out of that room without spooking them."​

​

Corazona von Ascania Haliat Kryze Rayia Si Roman Vossari ​

 

[Kahne Porte]

Location: Hapes
Primary Objective: Protect Humanitarian Work.
Secondary Objective: Classified
Tags: Caltin Vanagor Briana Sal-Soren Lorn Reingard Echo Athoth Thayze Montserrat Rik Perris

Across what used to be a nice and endearing place for some, it had now turned into a complete warzone. A Jedi could be scene kneeling on the grass, his eyes closed. The living force around them, around him. Reaching out....

Screams, cries, pain, frustration and most of all anger and rage. The Queen mother had every right to be angry, who wouldn't be. But in her quest for revenge and justice it would bring about destruction for her people. Innocent lives would be lost in the chaos, and if things got bad enough they would eventually turn on her.

However, she wasn't Kahne's primary concern, much less the secondary. The people are what truly mattered right now, and he would do everything in his heart to keep them alive at all cost. The Jedi Master stood up, donned in his armor as he took a deep breath.

I’m moving out to the perimeter if anyone wants to come with me. Keep doing what you’re doing.

"I am with you, old friend." The Jedi Master said giving a small nod in recognition his allies. He looked to Lorn, Briana, Echo and the rest of the the retinue assembled here.

"Whatever happens, stay close... and remember that once we get out there, it's not just the Crimson Veil we have to worry about. There might be Chume'odoro lurking... and... others too."

"But no matter what, we need to take back the transport as quickly as we can and keep the refugees safe at all costs."

"Your friends are with you, Briana." The Jedi Master spoke with a soft tone, not looking at her directly. Just a subtle nudge to let her know. These times were trying, and they would need to face them together.

Try to, anyway.

"Father, I'm in position."

Kahne heard his son's voice come over through his comlink through a private channel.

"Do it, and may the force be with you."

Enough, was enough.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Listening to everyone speak at once was like trying to have a conversation in a crowd. You could certainly here the myriad of voices, but it was difficult to discern what was being said. It was quite chaotic. It also wasn't appropriate, at least in his mind, for a royal court to be suddenly bombarded with numerous outsiders jabbering away at the queen. There were protocols to follow and nobody, it seemed, was keen on following them. He understood time was of the essence, but being successful was most important.

It worried him when someone entered and began to level accusations. Worried him the most when the accusation was leveled at a Jedi in the room with them. If said accusations were true, then punishment was in order, but if it was such that her husband was acting freely of his attachment to her, then he had no business having accusations leveled at her. It could also serve to further stoke the ire of the queen, which was the opposite of what they wanted in the current circumstances. They weren't here to make accusations or threats, they needed to talk her down from this civil war.

A glance was given to Lady Sylvia Organa , nodding his head in agreement with her, acknowledging that he understood her aim here. It resembled his, though he had yet to vocalize it. He wished to get people to stop jabbering away at the queen so that things could truly be heard, so that people with the right intentions, not accusations, could speak.

He chose to say something.

"Queen Mother, might I suggest that you exercise your right to an orderly court and insist that people not speak unless called upon so that we might resolve these tensions in a civilized manner?"

It was short, quick, and to the point. He wasn't trying to tell her how to run her court, but was suggesting that she exercise her right to run it instead of letting all of the outsiders, himself included, dictate her interactions here. It was, itself, a negotiation tactic. Reminding her that the power was in her hands to handle all of this, meant that she had to recognize the weight of all of her actions, just as they had to measure how they spoke.

---

ATTIRE: LINK (The Second Image) | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Kha'la Daaray | Damian du Couteau | Alicio Organa | Amani Serys | Kassogtha Cthylla | Orion Pavond | Nos Voros | Lady Sylvia Organa ​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

LOCATION: Hapes | OBJECTIVE: Protect Humanitarian work (III?)
TAG (ALLIES) : Briana Sal-Soren | Rik Perris | Mother Askani | Lorn Reingard | Echo Athoth | Kahne Porte
TAG (FOES) : @

[I}Ah frell! Someone is in the back![/I]

Laying off the throttle the moment he had heard the “bump” and the Jedi in the back, Caltin was more than a little embarrassed. Glad that the man, “@Lorn Reingard” as well as Kahne Porte seemed to be okay.

[Slow your approach. Fighting on your route.]

Caltin tapped his ear. [On it, can you do something?]

[Getting the snipers, can’t get to the rest before you.]

The big man pulled the transport up to the perimeter and parked sideways giving them a “fall back point” if necessary. The speeder was tough and could take her share of blaster shots.

The perimeter was under fire already. Was it Hapan forces or Crimson Veil? At this point it did not matter and there were lives hanging in the balance. This was a mess, and some kind of control had to be gained. The left flank was being hit hard as two women were being helped. More and more heavy weapons fire was bearing down on them until.

CRACK

ENOUGH!

Bringing down a bolt of lightning from the skies took an effort from the big man but it was powerful enough to give a momentary reprieve. He was panting, winded from the amount of energy he had expended, he was more than capable of controlling elemental lightning or “Electric Judgment” but the sheer size of the energy he brought down took a strong effort. He needed to find another way to bring more relief.

[Saw THAT! More prepping a move on you.]

Tapping his ear again, Connel was appreciative of his son’s skills. [On it.]

Briana, this is your show, I’m just here to help out. I do know that there are more mobilizing this way. We can hold this perimeter, but it will be a constant fight. If two, maybe a third slip around them we can hit them from behind, drive them off and ease our friends’ minds here. He wasn’t looking to take control, he wasn’t looking to manipulate or control the narrative, buy Caltin was clearly in his element, and he had the advantage of the recon of a Shadow out there.

 

[Karrys]

Objective Two

All in a day's work.

Karrys was proud of her work. In so many ways, she was not like her Alor, who viewed killing as a necessity, a chore. To the long-lived and secretive pilot, life had to be seized mightily, and savored for all that it was worth; if one chose to become a warrior, a killer, then they better well enjoy it, too. Glory in the satisfaction of having meted out their will on the foe. Such was the decree of the strong; that they now cared to shelter the weak under their wide and mighty wings was but an extension of that mindset. Power was theirs to use, with warmth and kindness or with fire and sword.

But power came with a moral imperative. A responsibility. This was the creed of the New Mandalorians; to wield their strength with wisdom. Karrys had failed to trust her gut feeling, driven to act by the urgency of the situation; when no return fire came from the Crimson Veil forces groundside, she merely thought their disorganized rabble incapable of mustering a proper response to Mando'ad shock and awe. Circling back around for another strafing run, the pilot froze as she peered through the canopy... and found herself met with the sight of blue smoke being popped.

Something's wrong here.

"This is Commander Iram. Confirming hit on target, Bloodhound. The Queen shall be grateful for Mandalore's support," she replied to Karrys , "Requesting further gun and missile runs on the enemy force until it is destroyed. Disregard that blue smoke. Crimson Veil forces appear to have also captured Alliance signal smoke. I had a low estimate of them before but to resort to such perfidy? Pathetic. Even for their kind."

The Nite Owl clicked her tongue, then, resisting the urge to correct the Commander. Her people were the guardians of Onderon, not the deluded fools who still called Mandalore home - that barren dustball of a world, savaged more times throughout her long lifespan than she cared to count. Rebel forces, allegedly disorganized compared to the Consortium's well-drilled troops... had gone through the trouble of stealing Alliance signal smoke. And were now using it after a bombing run instead of shooting her down.

The whole thing stank.

And a new ping on her radar only served to add more stress to an already delicate situation. Though the GADF might call her aircraft a gunship, given its dependable armaments on board, the New Mandalorians had designed it primarily as a dropship; maneuverable enough to dodge flak and drop troops, but certainly not capable of escaping the wrath of the starfighter fast approaching her position.

Frak!

"Motir daab... uh... burc'ya. Ni cuy' aliit at Jonyna Si."

Mando'a filtering in through a new transmission. Back in the days of the Mandalorian Enclave, an aruetii speaking the old tongue of the Mando'ade would be seen as a grave offense, if not sacrilege; the Mandalorian Catechisms condemned the very notion, after all... but the Enclave was a shadow of its former self, now, and Karrys was no longer a pilot of its Bes'kyrade. That chapter of her life was left behind her, the thrill of raiding replaced with a different cause, a different leader. Even clumsy, broken-up Mando'a brought her a measure of comfort in such a situation, a touch of familiarity, even relayed through one who did not follow the way.

<Me'ven? Tion'cuy?>

Family to Jonyna Si... the Duchess' current attempt at finding love. Karrys suspected deception, for she was deeply involved in the Alor's private life, being the designated pilot of the Nite Owls, always taking her from place to place, and yet she had never heard the voice hailing her over the comms. Still- the entire situation was confusing enough as it was, and-

"I think there might be a bit of a mix up in your targeting, cause that's the GADF down there trying to save what's left of that village."

The truth pierced through her as a ray of purest light would, pushing through iron will, beskar, and flesh, to embed itself into her very soul. These had not been Crimson Veil rebels using GADF equipment, but allied troops. Allied troops all too surprised to find themselves hit by what should have been a friendly contact.

The full extent of her failure was not worth contemplating, not in the middle of combat. She would grapple with the disastrous consequences of her actions when the time for killing had passed. The only thought coursing through her mind then was a simple one; had the Hapan Commander meant to deceive her, or was she just as misled as Karrys had been?

No. Her forces were still engaging the GADF, even after smokes had been deployed. Suddenly, the pieces fell into place. The chatter she had heard on the comms prior to dropping off Jenn, about the GADF and the Hapes Consortium butting heads... evidently, things had escalated.

<Commander Iram of the Hapan 27th asked me for fire support. Said those troops down there were Crimson Veil disguised as GADF. Are you telling me that hut'uun thought to make a fool of the Evaar'la Mando'ade?>

Karrys' blood boiled at the thought. Nobody made a tool of her. Not even Jenn. She did as she pleased. Always had.

The dropship roared as it flew towards the 283rd Battalion once more, its pilot all too aware that the troopers might very well just open fire on her craft this time. Not that they were her target.

A vicious, cruel grin pulled at Karrys' lips as she locked her missile pods onto the Hapan main battle tanks and fired.

It wouldn't be enough to bring back the lives she had taken. Might not even be enough to avert a diplomatic disaster between the New Mandalorians and the Galactic Alliance; she sure as shit would never forgive someone if they came and killed her vode. But she had a moral responsibility to see it all the way to the end.

The Mandalorian made sure to re-open her channel with the Commander afterwards, though doing little to cut off her existing communications with Azurine Varek in the process. Let the girl hear her and be convinced of her commitment to the cause.

<Nobody makes a fool of me, you treasonous dog!>


Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek Ben Khal Drystan Creed Lycus Merita

 

[Mother Askani]

- H A P E S -

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."

​

She stiffened her arm, and dug her foot into the ground, anchoring herself. She was the leverage a woman named Leva, who had suffered a leg injury, needed in order to propel herself up over the step and into the shuttle; her small boy, Aalder, climbing up behind her. She tucked her finger and pried her soaked hood from her face, reaching into her satchel and pulling out a pamphlet that she insisted they have. The Foundation had been handing them out to everyone.

The boys father had been a protestor, and when those protest devolved into riots, he was labeled an insurgent, looped in with the Veil and rounded up in one of the sweeps. When their part of the city had turned into a war zone, she had been injured in the chaos and couldn't make the trip for aid from their apartment complex -- Aalder found a Foundation patrol; it was a brave attempt to help her. This kid couldn't have been more than 9 or so years old.

The next worry, for any parent in this situation, was about what to do next...where to go...

She looked them over, "Here, y'all take this..." She handed it to the little boy, then she glanced up at his mother, "Come find us!" her voice barely cutting through the loud cadence of the rain. She fell back into the cover of the rain, as the mechanical sequence of the shuttle ran through its code and slid shut. She trailed the side up until the front, and pounded against the hull "Take her up!"

None of this got easier.

Her draped cloak blotted out the flashing lights of the shuttle, before levitating. she pivoted and trailed back towards the internal working on the camp. At the center of the camp was a holo-table where the managers and directors met and shared updates; well those they had at this point. Engineering, Resource management, Medical, and the Hidden Path all had reps there.

As she approached, "Alright, what we got? Report."

A holographic sprawl of the city sprung to life, morphing into perfection as it honed in on their location and began a slowly paced rotation.

"Triage team has been prepped. We're ready to take in those survivors."

"And, with the northern route a hot spot now, we're re-examining other routes... there's one going west, reports from out there have slowed down, doesn't seem to be a hotbed. Then, there's another going northeast, but that's a much longer route." Said one of the Sentinel Commanders of the Path.

"Show me." She said, before turning to their medical rep, as they prepped the holograms. "How're we on supplies, we've what...about two more weeks?" She asked, at this point they'd already been down her for two weeks.

"Just about. We've already put in a request for more supplies. It'll just take time to get here, especially with the blockade." the medic replied.

She shrugged her shoulders and nodded solemnly. The color in her face instantly shone with the reflected highlights of the holo-table in front of them, pulling her attention. "Wait-What is that?" There was a building on the western route.

"Some old holobooth, abandoned, likely cleared out like the rest of the buildings here when the riots started."

She intruded into herself, lost in thought. And then, "Do we have any engineers to spare?"

"I'm sure we could spare one or two but-" The engineer chimed in.

"-Do it. Go and get it back online." She said; she commanded. "Once it's operational, patch us in. The plan was to wait, but we can't afford to do that anymore, we take our moment now."

-----​

Spoiler

Briana Sal-Soren | Rik Perris | Caltin Vanagor | Lorn Reingard | Echo Athoth | Kahne Porte | Thayze Montserrat
And Zhea Nox | Delila Castillon | Jared Starchaser

 

[Drystan Creed]

THE HAPAN CRISIS: OBJECTIVE II

ARMOR
Drystan wrapped up his assault on the anti-armor position, the last of the soldiers fleeing in hysterical terror. He raised an eyebrow at Aadihr Lidos 's statement but nodded. The Pathfinders were taking a beating from both above and in front, and any assistance was welcome.

"Major, acknowledged. I've got anti-armor measures I can repurpose for—" His words were cut short as Azurine Varek 's interceptor streaked through the air. He paused, raising an eyebrow as he watched, wondering why the air support hadn't opened fire. Then, the Mandalorian fighter turned its missiles on the tanks.

"Ah." Relief washed over him. Taking on a battalion of armored vehicles, even with another knight like Aadihr, would have been no easy feat.

"Lidos, whatever your girlfriend just pulled off exceeded my expectations. Have her stick around—those tanks aren't going to deal with themselves."

Before he could continue, something caught his eye: the unmistakable robes of the Order. They swayed amidst the advancing Hapan company, flanked by armored vehicles. Drystan's eyes widened as he spotted a boy, barely in his teens, marching with the troops—a Padawan.

What was he doing here? How had the Hapans managed to recruit one of his own to attack an innocent village? Drystan's grip on his ignited saber tightened, his hand trembling with barely restrained anger. Whoever was behind this would have much to answer for. For now, Drystan forced himself to focus. He had to de-escalate the situation and stand the Padawan down—before the boy did something he would regret.

"I'm peeling off, Major. Possible Force user among the Hapans. Engaging."

Without hesitation, Drystan surged forward, deflecting incoming blaster bolts with precise sweeps of his lightsaber. Each reflected shot dropped a soldier as he pressed through the formation, his focus fixed on the young Padawan.

As he neared, Drystan leapt high, redirecting a few more bolts mid-air before landing directly in front of the boy.

The ominous glow of his helmet illuminated his visage, its unmarked surface staring coldly at the Padawan.

"Identify yourself." His voice was cold, mechanical and dripping with authority. "Now."

Lycus Merita | Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Karrys | Ben Khal

 

[Corvin Strix]

It wasn’t long before the sound of nearby conflict reached Corvin’s ears, spurring him into a sprint toward the source. Based on what he had already witnessed during his brief time on the planet, it could only mean trouble. If civilians were involved, it was imperative he intervene before the situation worsened.

The journey was fraught with obstacles; more than once, Corvin nearly stumbled over loose rubble as he navigated the damaged terrain. Eventually, he reached the site of the commotion, but it was clear he had arrived too late—the sounds of battle had ceased, and the scene before him told a grim story.

Coming to a halt, Corvin surveyed the aftermath. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, lifeless and bloodied. His gaze shifted to the individuals he assumed were responsible. Straightening his posture, he fixed them with a steady look and asked, “What happened here?”

Eloise Dinn . Diogo Talon

 

[Ben Khal]

Drystan Creed​

The battlefield Ben entered into was a chaotic, nightmarish hellscape. First the GADF fired on the Hapans, then the Mandalorians fired on the GADF, then the Mandalorians fired on the Hapans. Ben used the Force to generate a barrier, but its effectiveness was limited against such powerful artillery. He was fighting for his own survival as much as that of his Hapan comrades.

Where had it all gone so wrong? The question haunted the back of his mind, a thorn digging deeper with every step he took in the mud and the blood. The Hapans fired upon the enemy, only for their bolts to be deflected back by a lightsaber. The GADF had a Jedi in their ranks. Ben braced himself, fearing that it would be Oukranos who emerged from the gunsmoke...

As he neared, Drystan leapt high, redirecting a few more bolts mid-air before landing directly in front of the boy.

The ominous glow of his helmet illuminated his visage, its unmarked surface staring coldly at the Padawan.

"Identify yourself." His voice was cold, mechanical and dripping with authority. "Now."

Ben's fists clenched tighter around the hilt of his lightsaber, the rain boiling and steaming as it fell against his golden blade. He lifted his chin, wet hair stuck to his forehead. "Padawan Ben Khal of Hapes. Your troops are firing on their allies. You've betrayed the Consortium."

Who was he kidding? This man had killed dozens of Hapans in the past few seconds alone. Ben had seen him deflect the bolts, had felt his countrymen die. The time for talk had passed before he joined the fight.

The boy swung his blade at the masked man's neck.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire | Earring | Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Slugthrower Rifle

"I don't want to die like this! Mama!"

Aadihr's stomach turned - the comms were bad enough, but seeing the tank through the force and the people inside being condemned to a slow and painful death.
People who were sent to try to keep peace, dying alone in the dark, in pain, in fear.

Aadihr tossed aside his rifle, casually lifting the energy buckler to absorb a bolt as he stormed towards the mud where the tank sank below.

Fury burned through him. The damned unhealing burn that The Red gave him seared with more pain than before. Aadihr knew his emotions were off balance, the curse empowered, tempting him to draw from a dark wellspring of power, to turn pain into power.

The reminder of the bastard Corpse Zabrak angered him further. To see combat as entertainment. To kill wastefully, to force people to fight and die for the squabbles of places they've never heard before. To prey upon those weaker than them, that they have sworn to protect.

Aadihr did not notice the orange-red glow heating his left arm, singeing the cloth wrapped around the unhealing wound, igniting and lifting in pieces from the updraft. The pain manifested itself as heat, the burn as fresh as the moment he was inflicted with it.

Aadihr was sick of it. He refused to watch this. He stepped into the mud, sinking into the pain and as his left arm began combusting into red flames, swelling with the Force beyond anything Aadihr could manage without the sithcursed burn luring him to draw from a wellspring of negative emotions left sealed away.

The tank sank into the bubbling mud

How would Aris Noble do this? The boy was strong, he would be able to do something.

Aadihr grew furious, contempt not only for the conflict but his own feeble ability boiling over, matched and fed by the pain that was now unbearable, like his arms was being atomized again and again.

With an anguished and desperate cry, a shout that turned hoarse and raw, Aadihr thrust his burning hand into the mud, causing violent ripples and steam explosions as the dirt flash-dried and flung away from the expanding water vapor.

He grabbed durasteel, it didn't matter to him where or what, and he pulled.

He pulled with the force and with the force in him. He pulled until his back threatened to give out - burning pain accompanying the pain of his muscles and tendons stretching, snapping.

Beyond any expectation Aadihr had, the tank stopped sinking. The vehicle slowly rose, bringing a hefty of clinging mud as it was pried from the earth. Aadihr put everything into holding the tank up - the tank would be swallowed by the mud eventually, but the top mounted hatch was exposed enough that combat engineers were able to rush forward with laser cutters, half alarmed and unsure of what was before them.

Aadihr's voice rang among the blaster fire, every second was agony and spite, the flames of the burn spewing like from a forge-furnace. The cursed burn inched its way up Aadihr's forearm, burning its painful pattern up past the elbow and onto the bicep.

Those who yet lived within the vehicle were rushed out out once the laser cutters successfully opened the hatch, and they assured Aadihr he should cease... Whatever it was they saw.

Aadihr dropped the vehicle, every inch of him in pain. Only now did he notice the flames, barely a flicker in the force spectrum, that had scorched his sleeve away. The fury, the contempt, spite and disgust did not fade. The flames burned, slow to fade. Aadihr tried to center himself, but his body,l and emotions wouldn't listen. It was as if he lit a reserve of oil and it now burned without needing to go through Aadihr's will.

Aadihr backed away from the mud and sinking tank, stumbling as he noted tendons in his legs were severely damaged. He knelt, and tried to diminish the fires as medics hesitated to approach the flames, futilely spraying him with extinguisher foam.

Aadihr knelt and focused on his breathing, searching for something to pull him from the negative spiral. As a Starfighter flew overhead, he felt that purple light on his mind. Azurine Varek and her bubble of light that was always with him - he reaches for it in his mind, mirroring the motion with his burning arm towards the Starfighter.

The purple light brought him comfort and distraction - he felt like he himself was being pulled out of a pit of mud that fought back. For every ounce of pain, there was a counter from her light. The flames diminished. His mind fluttered to the Terlathi, dancing under the spirit tree, dancing on Dantooine, a quiet cup of tea on Coruscant.

The flame extinguished, and Aadihr knelt, exhausted and left with the myriad injuries along his body. The burn scar has grown, but the result was more lives returning to their loved ones. It was worth the cost.

Aadihr did not resist as combat medics rolled him onto a stretcher.

Was this a waste? How many more could he have saved? Aadihr's mind began to doubt as he was pulled from the front line, but the flint of the Starfighter overhead calmed him.

He did what he could. And he will live to do more.

One day, Aadihr vowed, I'll find the right way to tell her how I feel.

Drystan Creed | Lycus Merita | Azurine Varek | Ben Khal | Karrys​

 

[Kassogtha Cthylla]

Kha'la Daaray Orion Pavond Amani Serys Alicio Organa Lady Sylvia Organa Damian du Couteau Caelan Valoren Jasper Kai'el Nos Voros​

"The cries of my people are not so simple as you seem to believe. Do you think they weep only for peace? Hundreds of thousands of my people march through the Consortium, not because I command them, but because they demand vengeance. We've sworn an oath when your kind—the Jedi—wiped out the Lorell raiders, and I will not allow these terrorists to destroy those oaths."

Kass could've pointed out that the Lorell Raiders were wiped out thousands of years ago, but there was little to be gained from acting like an overeducated bookworm. Nor did her remarks seem to be having a positive effect on the Queen Mother.

In fact, none of what they said seemed to matter. No pleas for peace, no threats of arrest. Kha'la had simply gone mad with grief. The conflict seemed already beyond the point of negotiating. If the kindest light they could look at her in was one where she had lost control over her armies, who were now firing upon their GADF allies, then they were in trouble indeed.

Then, as a Mirialan Knight addressed the Queen, Kass felt a twinge in the Force. It was Oukranos. She brightened, thinking that perhaps he had managed to convince Kalen to come around, and that the encrypted holo projector she had hidden away might be of use. But that wasn't what she felt from him. Instead, her husband transmitted a fateful finality into their bond before closing himself off from her.

"Kassogtha Cthylla."

Kass' numerous eyes blinked all at once, her gaze flicking toward Orion. He mispronounced her name, but then most humanoids did.

"As most of you are probably already aware, her family has already been involved in the events, and I believe her judgment may be too impaired. She should be removed from the discourse at once. I fear her motivations may not be entirely pure and may be guided by attempting to redeem the family name rather than ensure Hapes and Alliance's best interests at heart are met."

She stared at the Knight, first in bewilderment, then in annoyance. What in the fuck was this fool trying to achieve by having her ejected now? Was he trying to derail all hope of a diplomatic resolution, escalate the tensions beyond the point of no return?

As he walked up to her and tried to coax her into leaving with him, she veered away from him. "I am not leaving," she said firmly. "You do not have the authority to force me out, Knight Pavond. The Council knows what Oukranos did, and they still approved my presence here, because I am not my husband." That sentiment should appeal to the Hapans in the room, at least. "Stand down now, or I will have you removed."

Normally a mild and gentle person, Oukranos' silence and Orion's accusations had robbed her of her peace. All she had left was her strength, her dignity, and her sense of right and wrong. Well, and her authority as a Master of the Order. She turned her gaze toward the Queen Mother. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, your forces have already committed crimes against your own people. That alone would be cause enough to have you removed from power. As the First Lady said, you must order your forces to stand down if you are to begin to repair the damage you have done."

 

[Drystan Creed]

THE HAPAN CRISIS: OBJECTIVE II

So it was a Padawan. Drystan's eyes widened in surprise as the boy lunged, aiming to take his head clean off without hesitation. At the last possible second, he stepped back, his boot sinking into the mud as the blade missed by a hair.

"Betrayed the Consortium?" Drystan's voice carried a sharp edge. "You forget yourself. Our allegiance is to the Alliance."

He made no move to attack, though his stance was ready, prepared to defend himself should the boy strike again. Whether the Padawan truly intended to betray the Alliance for the Consortium or was simply misguided, Drystan resolved to do all he could to make him see reason—so long as his patience allowed.

"This section of the Consortium's forces is targeting unarmed civilians and alliance troops," he continued, his tone cold and unwavering. "The only ones being betrayed here are those under my protection."

Though his face remained hidden beneath his helmet, his disdain for the Consortium's actions was clear in his voice.

"As a servant of the Alliance, I, Jedi Knight Drystan Creed, order you to stand down." The hum of his azure blade cut through the air, underscoring the gravity of his words. "I will not ask again, Padawan Khal."

Ben Khal

 

[Diogo Talon]

Tags: Eloise Dinn + Corvin Strix
Funeral Pyre | Love More
​

The last thing Diogo remembered was helplessly watching the Hapan commander gun down Charlotte. Everything else was a blur. But he must've sprung into action, fueled by a potent mix of instinct and revenge, because the headless body of the commander lay littered at his feet. He powered his lightsaber off and the blue plasma vanished.

"Lo dov robi!"

Eloise's war cry shook him from his stupor. The world suddenly exploded with color and sound, like somebody just changed the channel from a black-and-white, silent HoloNet flick to a surround-sound technicolor nightmare. What was that look on El's face? What the hell was that yell? Was she enjoying this? He might've felt disgusted if the thick layers of suffocating grief weren't drowning everything else out.

"You knew her," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Grieve later."

“What happened here?”

Somebody else showed up. A Jedi by the looks of things. Kid was wearing a blindfold. Aadihr? No, couldn't be. Diogo looked at the boy like he was a ghost, like he was seeing through him. "Follow her," he tried to say. He wasn't sure if the words came out. His throat felt like cement.

Diogo looked at Eloise, then his gaze drifted to Charlotte. Instead of following El into the burning building, he stumbled to Charlotte's body. His knees sank into the blood-soaked soil and tears gathered at the edges of his eyes as he gently scooped Charlotte into his arms. He held her tight like he could breathe life back into her, like if he held her and never let go, then maybe he could keep the whole world from falling apart.

Nothing else mattered.

 

[Echo Athoth]

Hapes
Tags: Caltin Vanagor , Briana Sal-Soren , Thayze Montserrat , Rik Perris , Kahne Porte , Lorn Reingard , Mother Askani

Echo Athoth's Locket, Epo-1 Interceptor
​

The left flank was being hit hard as two women were being helped. More and more heavy weapons fire was bearing down on them until.

CRACK

ENOUGH!

Bringing down a bolt of lightning from the skies took an effort from the big man but it was powerful enough to give a momentary reprieve. He was panting, winded from the amount of energy he had expended, he was more than capable of controlling elemental lightning or “Electric Judgment” but the sheer size of the energy he brought down took a strong effort. He needed to find another way to bring more relief.

"Incredible..."

Echo muttered to herself as she watched the raw display of power. So that was the strength of one who had lived an entire lifetime in service to the Force. It was awe inspiring. One day she and others would rise to that level. For now, however, she had a duty to do the best with the hand that was dealt to her.

“Incapacitate or disable where possible if dialogue is not an option,” he added after Briana finished speaking, referring to whatever forces were assailing the refugees, “I’ll manage crowd-control if we have need of it.” Then, to be certain, he took a softer tone: “And try to remain objective - that goes for everyone.”

"Understood." Echo nodded.

With that in mind, the Ogemite was quick to scan their surroundings now that she properly had her feet on the ground. The immediate blasterfire around them had stilled after the actions of Master Vanagor, but the surrounding area was lit up with the glow of blaster rounds. They needed to secure the perimeter and quell both sides before there were any more casualties-

A noise. Faint, almost a whimpering sound. There was a transport in the distance, the top of the speeder concave. Non combatants.

"Damaged transport, ten clicks out," the knight stated, "Due east. I hear people inside."

Her hearing was good, partially due to her alien biology. If she had to guess, whoever was within the transport was crushed under the caved in ceiling of the vehicle. They had probably been hit by a piece of falling debris no doubt. There were some notable explosions in the surrounding area. Echo strode into action, what bit of nerves she had crumbling away as only the stoic facade remained. Her lightsaber was drawn and quickly flowed to protect her as she walked. To the untrained eye her blade twirled in an unpredictable, wild manner, but this couldn't be further from the case. Shii Cho, in the hands of one who adhered to it's philosophy, ebbed and flowed like the sea; Graceful and magnificent in it's seemingly wild nature. Her form warded off danger as she made her way ahead.

"I will focus on gathering civilians," she informed the others as she moved ahead. "Assistance from one other would be appreciated."

The rest, especially Briana, would no doubt need to diffuse the conflict. They needed to divide and conquer.

 

[Ben Khal]

Drystan Creed​

The Jedi dodged his swing, but made no move to strike back. Though it bruised Ben's pride, he knew it was probably for the best. As long as the Knight went easy on him, not taking him seriously as a threat, he could keep him occupied. That meant less dead Hapans hit by deflected blaster fire or the Knight's burning blade.

"Betrayed the Consortium? You forget yourself. Our allegiance is to the Alliance."

Ben advanced again, looking for an opening in the Knight's guard, however unlikely. "A Jedi fights for what is right. We don't owe any government allegiance!"

"This section of the Consortium's forces is targeting unarmed civilians and Alliance troops. The only ones being betrayed here are those under my protection."

That was true. Ben had seen it for himself. But the battle as a whole had been chaos, and they certainly weren't doing it now that the GADF had betrayed them. "So your solution is to slaughter the Consortium's forces? How is that the better option?" he spat. "You don't care about this world, the people or our future. You just want to stroke your ego."

"As a servant of the Alliance, I, Jedi Knight Drystan Creed, order you to stand down."

"No."

"I will not ask again, Padawan Khal."

Call it betrayal. Call it balance. Ben could not, would not stand by while they attacked his homeworld, dismantling Hapes' leadership and reshaping its society to their liking.

"I won't let Hapes be colonized by the Alliance!"

He took another shot at the Knight, this time stabbing toward his stomach.

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Diogo Talon Corvin Strix

I DON'T WANNA BE ME​

Eloise stormed into the burning building, keenly aware that Diogo wasn't following her. He was still out there with Charlotte, whom she was beginning to realize must've meant more to him than she initially thought. Maybe more to him than Eloise herself did.

Telling him to "grieve later" probably wasn't the best thing to say in the moment. Nice going, El. Two steps forward, three steps back.

But there were people to save, and time was running out. If there was any benefit to her being heartless, it was that she didn't get caught up in sorrow. Can't grieve if you have nobody and nothing to love.

She used the Force to filter out the smoke from her lungs, using the green light of her blade to see. A few people were cowering on the first floor. "The soldiers are gone, the door is open! Go, go!" she shouted at them. They scurried past her, hunched over and coughing. She started up the stairs to the second floor, utterly focused. The threat was no longer the Consortium; it was flames and smoke. She had defeated one, but could she claim victory over the other?

 

[Shan Pavond]

​

Sick. Vile. Revolting. Those were the main thoughts going through Shan's head as he moved through the city. As flakes of ash fell through the air like gentle snowflakes, he pushed himself. It was pure chaos. There was no clear order or structure to what was going on in Tu'ana. The sounds of fighting were echoing through the city. Screams for help, screams of anger swirled around like a typhoon of negative emotions that Shan had to push himself through. He couldn't help everyone. No matter how hard he was trying. The Mirialan had already taken shots from both sides of the battle. Luckily for him, the spaceport hadn't been under occupation by either side. Unluckily for him, this had all happened so suddenly that most of the innocent civilians had no time to leave their homes. Instead staying in their city...The city that was currently burning.

He had already managed to save some of the innocents. Directed them towards the spaceport to try and get off-world. It was a potentially fruitless endeavour. There wasn't going to be enough shuttles for everyone. Not everyone would be able to be saved. A truth that was already clear to the Healer as he stared at his hands. There had been people he couldn't heal. People he couldn't save. It was different compared to being in a medical relief station. It was easier to disassociate himself from those who were too far gone but in the field like this? It felt like more of a personal failure to him. A failure at his attempts to be a Jedi. A failure at being himself.

"Ready! Aim!"

The sound of a voice piercing through the air snapped Shan out of his thoughts. The Mirialan's eyes darting around frantically, to find a firing line spread across what appeared to be a public park. A line of men stood staring down the firing squad. No. Not just men. There were children amongst them. He had to move. Before the shots rang out, a sudden wall of solid earth erupted between the consortium forces and their targets. In the chaos and confusion, Shan struck. Slamming himself in the first soldier he could, before slashing away with his lightsaber. Sending electrical shocks through their bodies to knock them unconscious. Firing off stray shots with his blaster to stun them. The Mirialan was on autopilot as he dealt with the threats. He already had faced Consortium forces today. Same with members of the Crimson Veil. After all, someone who doesn't pick a side in a battle ends up having no friends.

By the time Shan was done, the Mirialan was gasping for air. Normally, he'd be able to last the battle. He'd be able to focus and be able to reduce the amount of unnecessary movements in his fighting. But he was sloppy today. It was hard for him to focus. Anger was a feeling that Shan hadn't felt in a while. The last time he could accurately recall it was when he was a padawan and Corazona taught him about the whole idea of a rage-room. But...this anger was different. It was far more raw. Sensitive.

"Papa?...Papa. Wake up..."

A voice snapped Shan out of his thoughts once again as he looked around the park. Which is when he saw it. He had been too slow. Again. This wasn't the first group those troops had executed. Off to the side were a bunch of bodies, thrown to the side as if they were just a piece of trash. Right next to one of those corpses was a young boy, shaking it's arm. Over and over again. Though he had no time to focus on that, as one of the men that was saved took one of the unconscious soldiers' blaster and lowered it down. It was clear to Shan what was about to happen. The man wanted revenge. Shan could understand why. He might have even allowed it to happen. But that wasn't who he was. In the blink of an eye, Shan rushed the man, punching him down to the ground and disarming them.

"You want revenge. I get that. But killing someone who is unconscious is not the way. I saved you, because I don't want more blood to be shed. But if you show me that saving you was a mistake, I will rectify that mistake. You will take the people here, and get them to the spaceport. It's safe there."

He held his lightsaber out towards the man. It was a threat. At least that was what it was meant to be. Shan knew that the most his lightsaber could do in this setting was stun...but the man didn't need to know that, right? It seemed to work either way. The group around Shan just watching, some with looks of fear on their face and some with looks of pure disgust. It was clear what the attempted killer's thoughts were as he pushed himself up to his feet, preparing to leave...Though not without spitting at Shan. The Mirialan wordlessly watched as the group made their exit from the park.

And back to it Shan went. At least...that was his intentions. He only got a few meters away from the park when it hit him. The negative emotions swirling around him once more like a typhoon. Though this time, it was too much for him to just push through. The sound of the orphaned boy's voice fresh in his mind. Family was a sensitive subject for him. A very sensitive subject. As much as he had always felt alone on Nar Shaddaa, he still had his family. But that boy was alone now. Because Shan had been too slow. Shan's movement began to slow. His run turning into a walk. The walk turning into a shuffle. Before eventually he just leaned up against one of the walls. Sliding down the wall to the ground, straight down to his knees where the Mirialan would just begin to cry. The tears streaking down his face as he knew he wasn't built for this.

Who was he, to think he had the moral highground in this situation? To stop those who had suffered from getting their own revenge? What gave him the right? Why did he even care what happened to the consortium troops? All of those thoughts were swirling in his head as the man remained on his knees, as his own cries echoed through the air.