| Location | Moonside Inn
| Objective | To Midnight
The nurse's neck snapped. His body slumped to the ground uselessly. And then, the controlled chaos wrought by the hands of her Hastati (and led by stalwart Haliat) unfolded, leaving her blind and deaf for a few moments too long, her concentration broken - the last word she heard before her ears were made to ring so painfully, the voice of a woman she regarded not merely as bur'cya, but aliit. Her own name, carrying anger and shock within it, slipped between the beskar plating and into her heart, leaving her to truly fear, to doubt, as her world exploded.
Many words formed within her mind, yet her voice could not carry them, even as she longed to let the Ukatian hear them, to assure her that she had only meant to help her, to ensure that she was safe - before darker emotions took hold, as her vision slowly began to clear, the sight before her leaving the Duchess stupefied, slipping the cold exterior of her true face back on. Corazona von Ascania, Princess of Ukatis, Knight of the Jedi Order and one of the most important people in her life... was standing against her. Against her purpose. Ever-animated by the calm fury her many siblings and mother alike had imparted unto her from a young age, the Mandalorian ground her teeth together as the blonde dared to tell her what to do.
The Duchess had not been the one to come here and do all in her power to save Corazona. Neither did the Kryz'alor, for that matter, nor the Redeemer. Jenn Kryze had done that, not for any strategic plan, but because helping those she held dear took precedence over all else, because she refused to let duty overtake the oath she had made to herself after ruining everything with Sam. That she would always put family first, no matter the circumstances.
And this was to be her thanks? A Jetii telling her to stay her hand, to spare the very same people she had come here to destroy? So much planning, so much commitment, all of it put towards the task of assisting the Consortium in its counter-insurgency operation and secure another strategic alliance in doing so - and she was now asked to imperil all of it because of... what? The infuriating "mercy" of a follower of the Jedi Code, who sought to give quarter to those cowardly enough to take hostages? What a joke.
"They were holding you at gunpoint", came the Alor's terse response, trying her best to remain courteous. To keep her frustration hidden beneath the usual emotional repression. Even now, there was a certain beauty to her voice, a melodious intonation, even with the helmet's slight vo-coder effect reducing its potency. "Why are you so intent on sparing their-"
Before she could finish her sentence or relay any further orders, the front door of the building, hastily barricaded as it had been, was blown apart by a shaped charged. Superdly drilled as they were, the Hastati were quick to redirect their attention (and their weapons) towards the sudden surge in activity. There was no need for them to vocalize the identity of the interlopers; their uniforms and insignia made it all too obvious... and yet, the New Mandalorians did not lower their rifles. Hapan special forces or not, something was off here. Their blasters were still pointed in their direction.
And, more pressingly, at the three Jedi among them.
"Lower your blasters, Mandalorians! Your aid is known to us, and your service to Hapes remembered and honored; but you harbour Jedi among your numbers, complicit in their treason against Queen Kha'la. Step away from them and the scum they have chosen to shelter, and let the Queen's Justice be done!"
It was a demand, The Redeemer soon realized, that would not be refused without violence. Though well-trained and stout combatants, the Hapans had put their fingers on the trigger, betraying their intent in doing so. They waited only for a clear shot to start hosing down Jedi and Crimson Veil alike with hot plasma. A chilling realization that soon dispelled all other thoughts within her mind. The why of it all hardly mattered, not when the lives of a young woman she regarded as one would a niece, Jonyna's own adoptive daughter and a terrified Padawan all hung in the balance.
"We drew swords together, daughters of Hapes. Fought side-by-side against the scum plaguing your people. I beseech you now; spare me the sin of killing you, sisters-in-arms.
Had she been asked to choose between the Consortium and the Crimson Veil, her answer would have been simple and straightforward. Her standing order given to Karrys and the reinforcements waiting at the Forward Operating Base established with the crown's accord on Hapes had been clear; assistance was to be given to the Hapan military against rebel elements, bonds forged in battle.
Had she been asked to choose between the Consortium and the GADF, if not the New Jedi Order outright, her response would have been far more thought-out. The former presented the opportunity of a strong and dependable ally; the latter inspired only distrust in the Duchess, guarded as she was against foreign involvement upon New Mandalorian affairs. The Alliance presence on Onderon was already something she resented, and considered a necessary evil.
Ultimately, however, neither of those formed the choice thrust upon her. These Hapans were asking her to choose between those she cherished, and the potential allies she was yet to make.
An easy choice to make.
"That decision is not mine to make, Your Ladyship. I am only a soldier, gladly bound by oath to our queen; it is my burden and privilege to carry out her orders. I know you understand. The tragedy that befell your former liege-lady is known to us."
That the officer in charge of the twelve-woman team already fanning out across the lobby and towards points of cover cared to answer her words only made the Mandalorian's heart sink. In another life, the two may have been friends.
"Alas, Captain", answered the Duchess mournfully, "in a better world, one would need little else than shared honor to bury all enmity between them, their worth recognized by one another. Though you may be soldiers, and my Mando'ade warriors, I hold but the utmost respect for you. But these Jetiise... are under my protection. One among them is my own kin; and another may soon become one as well. Can you truly expect me to give them up? To let you strike against those I hold as dearly to my person as you would a sister, a daughter, a niece?"
The Redeemer hardly ever cared to make herself vulnerable, and doubly so in public. An ideal had no need for such wanton weakness. But, this once, she allowed emotion to carry into her voice, and earnestly so. Unlike her earlier appeal to the Crimson Veil, cloaked in misintent and deception, the Kryz'alor sought to use the very same "tactic" she had employed when she first befriended
Alicio Organa
and
Valery Noble
, in what felt like another lifetime to one who had been forced to change so much in so short a time; only through honesty and pure intention had she forged such bonds, and only through such stalwart efforts did she hope to prevent a catastrophe.
Whether by the effect of her voice or the raw directness of her words, it seemed, if but for a moment, that she might have succeeded. A few of the Hapans lowered their blasters, if only slightly. With but a gesture of their Duchess to command them so, just as many Hastati did the same, as a show of goodwill.
"Even if I were to consider sparing these Jedi, Your Highness, I cannot leave the Crimson Veil elements among you alive. They would only exploit the soft-heartedness of your kin, and return to torment my sisters. You spoke to me of your kin, but what of mine? What if these scoundrels decide to take revenge, and target my family? What then, Duchess Kryze?"
Turning to face Corazona, the ruler of the New Mandalorians mulled over what words to impart upon her protege. Would she budge, were their situations reversed? Could she even convince the driven young woman to stop sheltering the fools behind her to save her own skin, and that of two Padawans? Such were the thoughts going through Jenn Kryze's head as another soldier stumbled into the hotel, all too agitated. Closing her hand around the Captain's wrist, she could not find it in herself to mutter her next words, so stricken was she with grief.
"The Jedi have murdered the Queen!" declared the soldier in a voice all but keening with sorrow.
Jenn's head snapped towards the Hapans, appreciating the three seconds of silence lingering between them as all within the room digested the sheer weight of that information.
"War, then", mumbled Ryk softly, and solemnly.
And then, the room exploded into an orgy of renewed violence.
Resigned, Jenn and Captain Lyarri drew their swords, rushing up to one another amidst the chaos of plasma, explosions, and fire filling the air.