Private Good Samaritans

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Alderaan - Low Orbit
| Objective | Evacuation

"We're venting atmosphere in three separate sections!"​

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"Hyperdrive's not responding, crew chiefs report fires in engine number two."​

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"Not sure how long she's going to stay together. Your Grace, we cannot complete our jump to Onderon; we need to exit hyperspace prematurely."​

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Even as the bridge of the Enduring Flame found itself abuzz with activity, Jenn remained the very picture of calm and control, projecting her power in the only productive manner she could think of, standing with her hands folded behind her back. On most occasions, the Alor found little reason to involve herself in the command of such operations; her knowledge of extra-atmospheric combat was relatively limited, after all, and so she often delegated the decision-making to more qualified hands when possible. Now, however, was not the time to let such a responsibility lie upon the shoulders of another. ​

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"If we exit hyperspace now, how close would that put us to Kuat?" inquired The Redeemer, finally turning to face the Shipmaster - and the rest of the crew. The serene calm of her voice (though muffled by her helm), married with the aura she projected, made for a great tool in keeping the focus of the bridge on herself and her orders, rather than the rapidly deteriorating situation.​

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"Not close enough, Duchess. We would be at the edge of the system."​

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"Alderaan?"​

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The Shipmaster poured over the starmap projected by the command console, brows furrowed. ​

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"Achievable."​

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The Duchess sucked in a lungful of air through her gills, and brought her hand to rest on the edge of the console, leaning forward for emphasis.​

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"Then let it be done. This is not where our story ends."​

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---

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With a charred hull, failing systems and far too valuable a cargo to allow for failure, the Enduring Flame emerged from hyperspace, barely keeping itself upright and burning towards its destination.​

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"Priority transmission; this is Duchess Jenn Kryze of Onderon, requesting immediate assistance. Our ship is badly damaged and necessitates emergency repairs. We are approaching Alderaan Low Orbit to evacuate on-board refugees through dropships, some of them wounded. We require designated landing zones and medical teams to treat them."​

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The New Mandalorian crew and their complement of Hastati would remain on board for the time being; even with the ship seemingly on its last legs, the lives of the people they had spirited away from Vassek took priority. Such was their oath, impractical as it was for the continued survival of their order. Although there were some things The Redeemer was willing to compromise on, her commitment to the lives of the innocent was certainly not one such thing. Not after the debacle that had been Echnos, where the House massacred its way through the terrified population to make their exit.​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

A surprised, proper voice was quick to respond to the Mandalorian ship's hail. //Alderaan Defense Force. We read you, Duchess. Please hold while we scan and verify-//

The voice of the ADF official was abruptly cut off as another transmission overtook it. A familiar voice cut through the sudden static, curt and to the point. //Jenn, there's a landing zone outside of Sanctuary City. Coordinates sent. It's a clearing in the forest, you can't miss it.//

The voice seemed mildly strained, as if it's source was on the move. //I'm alerting triage and a mechanic crew now. We'll meet you on the ground.//

//What else do you need?//

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Alderaan - Low Orbit
| Objective | Planetbound

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Before the Mandalorian could find the right words to communicate the urgency of the situation to the member of the Alderaan Defence Force answering her emergency call, his voice was interrupted - and replaced with a far more familiar one. Though she furrowed her brows somewhat at the notion of the Chancellor being present on his homeworld right as she needed him, The Duchess was quick to remind herself of his nature - his burden, as she regarded this dubious gift the stars had seen fit to bestow upon him. How long ago had he foreseen her arrival? How much did he know? And what use was there in her speaking to him when he had surely seen it all play out already?​

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<The Enduring Flame won't survive atmospheric re-entry. Your mechanics will need to be flown directly to us; either through our dropships heading back after dropping off the refugees, or by your own crafts. I am sending you my Shipmaster's comm-codes to you now to facilitate this.>​

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The other concerns were all but secondary to her. The whispers of the dark, the temptation, the allure of it all whispered into her ear not merely by Serina Calis , as the Dark Padawan would flatter herself to think, but by circumstances far predating their encounter. Power demanded sacrifice, it demanded heroism and responsibilities, and they were all bearing down on her in ways she could not quite fend off, not entirely. ​

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"Your Highness, Karrys reports that all refugees are aboard the first wave of transports."​

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"Give the green light for immediate deployment of all but one dropship - hers. I must speak with the King. In person."​

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"Then I will take command of the repairs."​

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Turning to the Shipmaster, the Duchess gave him a nod of thanks, her steps taking her from the bridge and towards the lower levels, passing by scenes of emergency repairs being performed and supplies being carted over, sometimes by hand, to assist in stabilizing the situation. By the time she reached the hangar, all but one troop transports had departed, their cramped holds packed to the brim with the farmers they had saved from Vassek.​

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<Alliances sure are coming in handy>, called her personal pilot as she fired up the engines.​

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<I'm just glad I didn't burn bridges with him. Not completely, at least.> No guilt was there to be felt in her voice. Even around Karrys, Jenn projected an aura of perfect control. If she allowed it to falter, then she feared she may very well just lose herself as well. The display was for them just as much as it was for herself. Strapping herself into a seat, she remained stoic as the dropship made for a sharp descent towards the atmosphere, ignoring the looks she earned from the civilians all around her. She could do without a protection detail today.​

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<Your Majesty, we are away. The refugees are heading to the provided coordinates; ETA two minutes. I will not be far behind.>​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

//Understood,// the voice returned. The beeping of a datapad could be heard in the background, rerouting the mechanic team to take shuttles to the Flame itself.

<Your Majesty, we are away. The refugees are heading to the provided coordinates; ETA two minutes. I will not be far behind.>

//We'll be here when you arrive.// There was a pregnant pause. //...See you soon.//

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By the time Jenn got on the ground, Sanctuary City's first responders were on the scene.

Already, lines of sterile white tents were being pushed up, and wounded and tired farmers were being led inside by kind-looking workers with medical armbands. Others pushed crates of supplies from elegant Alderaanian ships, medicine and food and containers of water. Nobody directed the controlled chaos, because nobody had to. They'd trained enough to know exactly where to go, what to do, who to help.

Alicio was thankful for that. It meant he could spend his time with the wounded.

Just outside the first batch of medical tents, the Supreme Chancellor was kneeling over a farmer on a stretcher. Nearby, his dark coat and a strange, multicolored cloak lay discarded on the ground, leaving him with his simple undershirt as he gathered the energy of the Force around him. "Try to relax," he said softly, letting his fingertips lightly press against her knee. In deep concentration, Alicio began to knit her torn leg together with the Force, flesh and ligaments pulling themselves back into shape from where they had twisted apart. At first, the woman's face twisted with discomfort, but it gradually eased with relief.

"You're doing wonderfully," Alicio encouraged, his eyes sharp and focused.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Alderaan - Outside Sanctuary City
| Objective | Touchdown

There was no mistaking the difference in Jenn's personal dropship. Its armament was almost entirely depleted, the missiles waiting beneath the wings nowhere to be found and one of the nose-mounted rotary blaster cannons melted down by copious small arms fire. Wherever one's eye was brought to land, the fuselage was scarred by scorch marks and dried blood. But, for all of this wear and tear, the troop transport remained in functioning order, just as its makers had intended. And as the ramp descended, the refugees within stepped on out, guided by the emergency teams to be treated. Jenn, for her part, merely waited atop the ramp, drinking in the sight all around her.​

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Pride welled in her heart as she watched the Alderaanians going about their duty. Evidently, their training was paying off, the speed at which they responded to a sudden influx of refugees a testament to the commitment shown by her friend to his vision, even now that he found himself at the helm of the Galactic Alliance. Though she knew she could never performs such acts of charity without ulterior motive herself (not anymore, not now that she and her kin had paid the price for it one time too many and found it steep), her admiration remained undimmed. The King of Alderaan was willing to stand for his values, to fight for them with his voice as well as his blade, and for that, she would always honor him. ​

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And when her gaze finally came to rest upon her friend and ally, the Mandalorian drank in the humbling sight of a man by whose hand the fate of billions was decided... working tirelessly to heal but a mere farmer. Slowly, carefully, her steps took her close and closer to the raven-haired seer, waiting until his patient was stabilized before she dared speak.​

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Smothering the niggling voice in the back of her mind, telling her that he had already foreseen their entire conversation and prepared his response.​

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"You knew I was coming", spoke the Ersansyr softly, looking down at herself. The cerulean beauty of her armor was stained with gore, still, though now dried; fighting her way back to her lines through the risen dead had been a brutal endeavor. And still, she seemed unfazed. It was but another battle, another step on the great journey towards her own legend. These people, few as they were, would not soon forget her and her warriors. ​

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"How long ago did you foresee my arrival, bur'cya?"​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio noticed a familiar presence in the Force, but didn't spare the time to look up at her. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, a single bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

After a few minutes of intense concentration, the farmer's leg finished morphing into it's correct shape. Alicio let his strain escape with a deep sigh, then adjusted his body to face the woman. "I did what I could, but I can't mend bone. Fractured femurs take... a long time to heal."

"But I won't lose my leg?"

Alicio thought a moment, then shook his head. "No. You won't."

The farmer smiled, then laid her head down on the stretcher, exhausted from the ordeal. Alicio finally stood, a little shaky, and let his attention fall on Jenn. Curiosity, concern, and sadness all lit the dark corners of his grey eyes. She looked like... well, how they all looked. As if they'd survived hell.

"You knew I was coming. How long ago did you foresee my arrival, bur'cya?"

One of Alicio's brows ticked up, the tiniest microexpression of confusion, then amused understanding. "About fifteen seconds before you dropped out of hyperspace. And half of that warning time was wasted trying to understand what exactly I was seeing." Alicio didn't smile, but his mix of expressions softened. "You have Sanctuary City's crisis training, and a certain Cathar Jedi Master telling me to take more breaks, to thank for us being here as quickly as we were."

"...What happened? Are you injured?"

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Alderaan - Outside Sanctuary City
| Objective | Reunited

Seeing Alicio weaving such regenerative sorcery left the Mandalorian in a state of contemplation. Had he learned such a power on his own, or had Amani Serys imparted some of her knowledge upon him? The ways of the Jedi eluded her at times, and the intricacies behind their craft seemed all but opaque to one who had grown with a profound contempt for those practitioners of the ancient arts of the Force. Perhaps she could stand to study those techniques herself; letting her potential sit unexploited was nothing short of wasteful, after all. But with the Chief Healer's lingering distrust of her culture, not to mention her own person? It seemed that her pursuit would remain focused on the more offensive applications of the Jedi arts.​

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Such thoughts dissipated, then, as her friend's duty was seen to, and his attention turned towards her once more. He seemed... so very tired. Sympathy flooded through the Duchess' mind before such a realization. How many fires necessitated his attention each and every day? How much time could he spend with his loved ones? Did the man even sleep? Sobering thoughts, all. That she remained covered in such a disgusting mess stood as the only reason she did not dare to reach out and clasp her hand around his forearm in a firm warrior's salute. He seemed in need of such a reminder of camaraderie. ​

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"I see ner'Jonyna looks out for me, even when we are apart", noted Jenn with a warming smile, hidden as it was beneath her T visor. "I am glad she convinced you. Your office seems to wear you thin." ​

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Direct as ever, perhaps even tactless for some, but Jenn saw little need to mask her meaning with Alicio. Mandalorian honesty could be used with one such as himself, letting him converse with something a little closer to Jenn than The Redeemer, and it made all the difference. Shaking her head in the wake of her friend's inquiry, she lifted her hands, palms open. ​

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"Naught but my own pride, perhaps. I allowed a Sith to take the upper hand in a battle of wits, though I outpaced her in martial skill, and with that advantage, I am afraid she won." A sigh escaped her, her helm turning to look towards the sky instead. Alderaan was truly beautiful. A place she might think of establishing a covert in, some day soon; it was certainly deserving of her New Mandalorians, and its people seemed to align with hers in their beliefs, if only in the broad strokes. ​

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"Word reached us through my shadows of a raid on the world of Vassek. I rode out with a strike force, planning to fend off a raiding party. We found ourselves pitted against an invasion force instead; when the Sith in command of the operation used his foul sorcery to raise the dead to attack us, I declared the planet lost and took whatever survivors we could carry with us back to Onderon. We sustained heavy damage escaping into hyperspace and had to drop out; you know the rest."​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"I am glad she convinced you. Your office seems to wear you thin."

"Jonyna said something similar." Alicio crossed his arms, letting his weight shift to one hip. He thought about his words for a moment, before deciding to reward Jenn's honesty with his own. "I don't like when people comment on my... strain. I'd rather everyone thought I had a perfect handle on my new position. As false as that would be." The people of the Alliance put their trust in him to lead. Intellectually, he understood that no Chancellor could live up to the standards he'd placed on himself...

But he couldn't shake the feeling of stinging failure every time he fell short of them.

Alicio turned his head curiously as Jenn began explaining where they had been, turning his body and taking a few steps beyond the medical tents, signaling her silently to walk and talk. He gave her his full attention, only pausing to summon that strange cloak to his hand with the Force, and begin fastening it around his shoulders. None of her tale was a surprise to him- not due to his understanding of the Future, but out of his understanding of the Sith.

After she finished speaking, Alicio folded his arms behind his back. "I'm glad you made it here." His tone was genuine, layered with meaning, even if there was a bit of fragile caution there. He wasn't sure where he stood with the Duchess now- despite her friendly tone, he still remembered their meeting on Fondor. "And despite losing a debate against a Sith, you're alive, and saved all these people from death, or worse. And for that, I'm very glad."

"Whatever you need from us, you have it, free of charge. Repairs, supplies for the trip back, extra shuttles, just ask." He flashed a weak smile, before letting it drop, staring straight ahead. "Alderaan is a friend to you, Jenn. Even if... I can't always be."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Alderaan - Outside Sanctuary City
| Objective | Truly and earnestly

To Jenn's credit, her reaction was quick and considerate, canting her head apologetically in the wake of the Chancellor's words. "I apologize if I upset you, your grace. Such was not my intent." Polite to a fault, but not quite apologizing for saying the words. The Mandalorian before him found no shame in her blunt demeanor, particularly when it came to her friends... although the method of address she used set something of a boundary between them. Titles, used to keep a degree of separation between them. Although hopeful, the Duchess held no delusions after their meeting on Fondor. Something had changed, and though she mourned such a shift in their friendship, her duty demanded that she treat him as head of state-​

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The head of a state she was growing increasingly wary of, distancing the New Mandalorians as much as the parameters at her disposal allowed. ​

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But, for all such considerations, she felt a wave of sympathy for the King wash over her. Though his duty extended to trillions of souls, compared to her own charge, she knew of the demands and rigors of leadership. And she knew... of how little time it left him to be with his family. His wife, his children; the very same she had taken him from during the days of the war between the Enclave and the Alliance. There was little time to be spent on guilt, not now.​

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"We couldn't save enough of them." Not shame, but regret. They could have done so much more. Should, have done so much more. "This... is only a small fraction of Vassek's population, Alicio. A few villages' worth. Hard not to feel I could have done things differently, went about all this another way. Now, children are going to grow up without their parents, and vice versa."​

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Ruthless optimization meant that she would make use of those orphans. They would not be left in the care of the Alderaanians, but taken back to Onderon, where they would be raised as foundlings by the New Mandalorians. Taught to care for themselves, to manipulate weapons, to emerge into the galaxy with the ability to never be victims again. And, although each and every one of them would be given a choice once they reached the right age, Jenn knew that only few would reject the chance to become fully-fledged Mandalorians. A long-term solution to the issue of manpower that made her altruism a little less wasteful. ​

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"All I want from you is to ensure the Enduring Flame is capable of jumping back home... and give these people a home - all but the orphans, who are now under our responsibility. Nothing more, nothing less." A terse response, she realized, though one she refused to apologize for, not when she saw him averting his gaze from her, even as her own visor remained fixated on his person. ​

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"Alicio." She reached out, then stopped herself, just as her hand hovered above his shoulder, retracting it slowly. "You are a good man, a just ruler, and well-liked by my people besides. Above all that, I consider you a friend. If I have broken that trust we shared as friends, then let me mend it."​

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Alicio Organa ​