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After the rescue of slaves from Myrkr, the Silver Jedi seek to rehome them on Kiros. There you can find a population of once-slaved Togruta. At the request of the Silver Jedi, the colony has accepted the newly-freed slaves with open arms.
A small feast is being held in the town’s square to help settle the newcomers in. There you can find long picnic tables filled with meals made from a recent harvest, candle lit benches for conversation, and a small patch for the folk dances of the Togruta. (It’s rhythmic and simple and even the newest of dancers can catch on quickly!) With a little bit of laughter and a lot of food, the Silver Jedi hope to foster new connections between the two communities.
However, there is a threat lurking in the shadows. While new housing was being erected, a control module (a remnant from the Confederacy rule) came to life. Several cohorts of Battle Droids left behind have awoken. They possess one, old protocol.
Kill the colonists.
Objective 1: Assist in the feast. Help the newly freed slaves settle. Dancing helps break tension! Or drinks. Those too!
Objective 2: Destroy the control module and any surviving Battle Droids before they can reach the feast.
Objective 3: BYOO
Kiros was a world that was colonized by Togruta. It was intended to be a retreat from the troubles of the Galaxy. The once peaceful artisans were turned into slaves by The Zygerrian Slave Empire. They lived like this until freed by the Old Republic. They are now skilled defenders and bare an open heart to others in their situation.
The atmosphere is wonderful and temperate, filled with rivers, valleys and waterfalls. They fell under the rule of the old CIS (Clone Wars era).
The city of New Kalandra was lost, and with it the Fortress; outnumbered and outgunned, it was a question of time so all we could have done was save and evacuate the civilians. However, it is obvious that, person-for-person, the Eternal Empire has proven much more dangerous as an army than the Sith, she thought, while some of the survivors, civilian or military, returned to Kiros to regroup. There were a lot of implications for the future of the Silvers' armies to ponder, but for now, there were not only slaves rescued and freed from Myrkr to take care of, but also civilians that made it out of this mess. However, there was one thing in common: both the freed slaves and the civilians from Kintan, Nikto or otherwise, came to Kiros in hopes of a better life and, hopefully, a less traumatic one. The distribution of the food began under the form of a feast, and the food came from all over Silver space: karkan ribenes from Trandosha, salmon from Manaan, tubers from Balamak, to name a few of the items that were right in front of her. And, of course, Jess got to work using pyrokinesis to bake a giant Skor cake so that the civilians that were saved (knowing, however, that, for every civilian that was saved, there was at least one that wasn't) could have some balm on their scars...
Jacen Voidstalker had arrived with a shuttle of slaves liberated from a separate colony. Many questions had been asked about how they had been freed and he had skirted around them all. He had refused to even identify himself by name. The slaves had merely described the sound of blaster fire before he had walked through their pens and led them to a shuttle past a horde of fallen guards.
He was a relic of wars that had come and passed. He had dropped off the face of the Galaxy for years. Once it was clear that the slaves were going to be rehomed he had made to leave quietly.
It was only when the freed slaves he had arrived with insisted that he stay for at least one meal that he had reluctantly agreed.
Sitting hunched over an ale he had been nursing, Jacen kept his head bowed. His unkempt beard was another mask. It was all temptation. There was happiness and joy around him now. Something he could have been a part of.
Coming to this hadn't been Kyra's idea. Course ever since events on Kitan nothing had been Kyra's idea. The little accidental leader of the paddie pack hadn't done much leading since they were discharged from the hospital ward.
You're all good to go, the healers had told them. And sure, their bodies and been set right and those wounds from being buried alive were well and erased. But force heal did little when it came to matters of the mind.
The whole enclave seemed to be nursing the mental wounds of what they encountered, the fact that Kyra was too was nothing special. Nothing new. Simply was. But that didn't mean the masters above wouldn't see to it things started to turn back around. The feast on Kiros was meant to lift the spirits of the relocated freed slaves.
It was no secret that the padawans might like a little celebration too. They were alive after all, and many civilians had made it out of the city of Kitan before it could be destroyed. So why was it so hard for Kyra to smile? The girl sat straight-backed at a picnic table, candle light and lanterns giving the space a warm glow as dusk slowly overtook the town.
Cheerful music played from corner cleared for dancing. Steaming piles of Torguta delicacies were laid down on the table before her. She merely watched, impassive, as a group of children introduced themselves to each other and began to play.
His last act before leaving the Galaxy at large was to get many of the Alliance's padawans far away from the Sith Empire's war machine. Working with Aela Talith
he had seen them to safety. Then he had simply thrown away his Alliance comms and failed to reach the rendevouz point.
No one had gone looking for him. No one other than his son. Trextan was now apparently travelling the Galaxy trying to be a Warden of the Sky. It was about time he learned to be his own young man and worked out who he was. Sometimes Jacen wondered if he should have followed his sons example and tried to work out who he thought he was too.
He looked to the young jedi on the table next to his own. She was probably about the age those children would have been now, but she wasn't one of his.
Why did he always feel the pull to interfere? This was exactly why he had retired to Tatooine.
"You're one of the silver jedi?" he asked, offering a gentle smile. There was nothing to mark him as a Jedi. No lightsaber, no robes. He kept his presence carefully controlled. A jedi master might have recognised the skill in shrouding his own signature, but it was beyond most jedi.
Kyra heard the voice ... felt the attention weigh on her through ripples in the force...
It was fairly obvious she was being addressed. She deigned to ignore it for a moment, the question causing recent wounds to bite.
"...A padawan," she corrected, her voice soft and low. She didn't look up at him, her gaze barely shifting a few over towards his direction. Another time, another day he would have found her to be a much more chatty and warm conversationalist, but everything about this feast felt wrong. Like they were trying to make her forget. To not remember. To pretend all those people weren't dead when she was meant to stop it.
How could anyone bear it?
The man wasn't given another word, no olive branch to work off of. But before he could be left to struggle through this, the most curious thing drifted down from the sky. IIrina Esta Klaus
Kyra blinked rapidly, her eyes growing wide. Wary. Like she didn't trust her mind.
Not long after the baking of this huge Skor cake began, she could sense the presence of a white dragon, IIrina Esta Klaus
. However, the padawan pack, with Kyra Perl
, and other mentally-scarred Jedi, were also attending this feast, and Togruta cooks, among the survivors from Kintan, baked some delicacies, while there were Nikto cooks also baking other meals that were alien to most non-Niktos. In the meantime, Togruta cooks were cooking grilled meat, as was usual for a species that feasted on meat, and Trandoshan cooks also took part in these efforts, turning out karkan ribenes. Once these were ready, there was a long lineup to get a serving of those, while the music was being played nearby by other refugees that were performing. That may have relieved tensions for the time being, but would the raised spirits from this celebration last, and, if so, for how long? There was the question of food supplies to deal with, as well as construction supplies; hopefully the groundbreaking ceremony of the main buildings of this new colony would get underway soon.
Ever since the events of Kintan, Reggie has had a mix of negative feelings. What happened on Kintan would stay with him as it would others. Other than that, the Padawan couldn't help but feel inferior, like he didn't do as much as he could. Protecting the residents of Kintan was the main objective and he did his part in that, but with all his skills and knowledge, he couldn't do more to achieve that goal? He couldn't have done something that could have changed how things turned out? There were many who were able to both protect the civilians and push back the enemy for a time; heck, he even heard about his fellow Padawan's holding their own against the enemy at the fortress. Couldn't he have done something to help them?
The Padawan pushed those thoughts away, knowing they wouldn't help anything and that he'd done his part on Kintan. Him being there was much more than he had accomplished years ago when his allies could have used his help, but found that he wasn't with them. Besides, now was the time to feast with friends! He especially wanted to see Kyra and the ithers that had been injured. Reggie wanted to visit them but he never got the chance to, so now was the time to see his friends. Friends? Now that he thought about it, was he friends with the other Padawan's? He had worked with both Kyra and Acaadi before, talked and trained with Ura and Kaili, and had some good times at gatherings with other Padawan's. Was he a friend to them though? Considering he wasn't around when they needed him most times, or the fact that he didn't show up to many events to get to know his peers, they probably didn't consider him as such. Darn. What has he been doing? What kind of Jedi is he? No, what kind of person is he?
Reggie stopped and sighed, his thoughts taking over for a bit. That's when he saw some type of droid that seemed to be hostile considering they had blasters and such. They looked familiar....wait, those are CIS droids from the clone war era, right? Reggie had read up on that time and had met(met?) one of them on Kashyyyk during his first month on the rest. The droid he saw then was confused after being activated after so many years, but dangerous nonetheless. Reggie's plan to enjoy the feast with his peers would have to wait for now. The Padawan had a bad feeling about the droid.
Kat fussed with her hair for a bit, she had been struggling with her appearance after the invasion. Laying in bed for awhile with the healers fussing over her due to her body being pushed too hard in saving Kyra, whom she hadn't heard a thanks from yet! Instead, Kat had been working with her family on moving them back to Eshan, Rose was going back to working with the leaders on restoration and where they would be moving forward. It was a healthy first step for her sister, taking on more duties and getting back into it all, her niece was most upset that they had to part ways. Rose thought that it would be good for their mother to move back to Eshan as well, leaving Kat more on her own than she had been for a long time. It was somewhat terrifying for Kat, her sister offered her fashion advice and life advice when she could and the company was always welcomed when things were becoming too much for Kat.
It had been tough dealing with the Sith on Kintan, the threat of the Sith had become very real to them. It was a rude awakening that seemed to have shaken Kyra the most, Kat figured that the other Padawan didn't realise what a threat the Sith really were, or how powerful that they could become. Kat knew some of their power but that Sith was a monster that she did not think was real. Kat wandered into the feast and adjust her jacket and put her hands in her back pockets, looking around. She could see Kyra but not their other friends, there were people she didn't really know around as well, Kat waved hello to Kyra and moved around the place.
"I'm Jacen," he said without being asked. Interfering was one of his most tedious qualities. He sat in silence and thought about what could have happened to draw the padawan into a glum mood that had the Force moving like that. War had started again, she might have lost someone. It happened all too often.
Jacen thought he could help. He almost always did and that was where the trouble started.
"...Is that a dragon?" She uttered.
Jacen hadn't been watching her, but keeping his eyes down on his drink as he contemplated what to say.
"What?" He looked up.
"That...is a fetching dragon. You...know if anyone invited a...yeah..."
It took a lot to shake the veteran Jedi Master. This managed it.
Metis was enjoying herself. Usually she was finding something to either stress about or study to a ridiculous degree. Not that she’d ever admit it to herself. While vigilance, intelligence, education and combat, were all critical and crucial aspects of being both a Jedi and a Handmaiden, of Equal importance was humanitarian efforts. Without them they’d just be another army or military faction trying to dominate the galaxy.
Usually those humanitarian efforts were almost always medical clinics in warzones, trying to reattach limbs and worst. This one however the danger had passed and people were allowed to enjoy themselves.
As a Naboo handmaiden Metis had attended more then one ball or fundraiser. The elegant dresses, the dancing, the wine. Metis had forgotten how much she’d missed it. Currently Metis was enjoying a swing dance with gusto. Laughing with others, slightly tipsy, all round just enjoying herself.
Metis took a break from the dancing went to the bar and had another shot. Metis noticed a commotion some gasps and whispers going through the crowd. Metis turned to look at what everyone was gawking at.
Red patrolled the outskirts of the town. He had gotten word of "rumors" of "monsters" outside of the village. Probably nothing, but it was still worth investigating. Better safe than sorry. Red decided to take the job, to let the others party and have fun. Better to let Red handle this, so no one else had to worry. That's what Red was made for, for the protection and to assist other sentient life forms, to be the perfect soldier. Well, nearly perfect. Red did have his flaws, yes, but he had to learn to push past them to become better. Still, he had decided to take this patrol to make sure no one got hurt.
Red looked around. He had his helmet on, and his blaster rifle in his hands. He was in full armor, since this was a possibly dangerous patrol. Red noticed another Padawan Reggie Faayare
walking around. He didn't seem to be out here on the patrol, like Red. Red was about to say something to his fellow Padawan, to warn him about what he was investigating. Then, Red noticed it. Battle droids. What were they doing here?! They looked old. Red concentrated for a minute, then remembered his military history. This planet had once been under the control of the old CIS, during the Clone Wars. How were these things still functioning? They couldn't be under the control of the current Confederacy, could they? No, it was impossible. So then who was... Then, it clicked in Red's brain. It must be a surviving control node. Red had no idea how it still had enough power to run, but it must have been dormant for years, and now the building of the village and new houses must have awoken it and the droids.
Since it had just woken up, it still thought that we were in the Clone Wars era. Which means that they still had their basic programming.
Kill the Jedi. Kill the colonists.
Red ran over to the Padawan. "Move back, move back!" He told the kid. "Back it up! Stay away from it!" He stood in between the kid and the droid that was still further away. If anyone was going to get hurt, it was Red. Red hated it when people he was watching over got hurt or killed. He hated it when he could have stopped it from happening, but he wasn't able to. He wasn't fast enough, not strong enough, not smart enough.
"It might be dangerous. Stay back." Red kept his eyes on the droid. "I think it's hostile." He explained to the Padawan.
Standing outside the feast hall, Esta Pulsarcore leaned against the outer wall. She came to help with the newly free slaves, but felt... uncomfortable... helping with a feast. A feast? The Jedi were rather bizarre. Unfamiliar with anything beyond her instincts to kill, family induced, the new Padawan found herself sky gazing as her thoughts rumbled.
The Jedi were "peace keepers." They followed the will of this mysterious Force and tried to save as many lives as possible. Yet, Esta grew up in a far different environment, almost the reverse of Jedi philosophy. She grew up a mercenary, from a strict family with the desire to do anything for glory and coin. Esta had worked with slaves before, but as an enforcer. Now, she was strangely helping the group she had once rounded up for money. Confusion swirled around her head. She felt no wrong, she never knew the difference. Yet, she was extremely uncomfortable bringing up her confusion to any of these righteous Jedi. What did being a bounty hunter that once did things like murder or hunting slaves make of her? Was she a "bad" person in the Jedi's eyes? What was "bad" even? What was the difference? What was she fighting for?
The identity crises continued to grow. She had remained icely silent for this entire trip, seldom speaking to anyone and meagerly helping with grunt tasks like moving crates and stuff. Now, the out of place apprentice had bestowed it upon herself to keep watch. She was used to trouble coming up in every possible moment, thus, she stood outside and kept watch for any threats to her current mission.
Strangely, her temporary mission brought little clarity to her overall mission. What was she fighting for again? All she knew was fighting. She had felt the Force reach out to her, bring her to the Jedi through visions and dreams. Yet, now that she was here, she was aimless and alone.
Thus, she stood alone. She kept watch for any danger or threat. Like she always had.
As Corte was patrolling the outskirts of the town, he came upon Red telling Reggie to stand back due to what looked like a Droid? Where had this droid come from, and when? Anyhow, it seemed to be a very old battle droid and it was still carrying it's rifle, which Corte assumed it was still loaded. Corte grabbed his newly made light sabre/pistol combo off of his hip and decided that the stun setting of the pistol would do for now. Corte took aim down it's short barrel and was about to fire when he saw it, another droid, then another and another. In all there were four droids, all holding weapons in attack mode. Corte knew this was going to be a short fight, but he needed to take action and quickly. He dropped two of them with his pistol, then opened his light saber and was ready to attack.........
Kyra straighten from her slumped position over the table, equally shaken up and engaged by the great giant thing radiating happiness down at the crowd that gaped.
She was without words, and frankly who wouldn't be. A thing of stories-- she faintly recognized the creature as a species she had read about in children's fairy tale.
Didn't they prefer to remain alone?
She stood slowly, her curious streak resparked within her. If just for a moment. One question came to mind. She uttered it without reserve.
"Boss, I really don't understand what we're doing here."
The slightly whiny voice of Specialist Paxton Reece sounded over Beltran Rarr's comlink, making him consider suicide for the third time that day. There were days when Beltran woke up and was grateful that he hadn't died of the injuries he'd sustained on Kintan, and then there were days when he had to listen to Reece complain.
Paxton Reece, callsign Icarus-1-8, was Icarus Platoons breaching and explosives expert. The man could do things with fletchette launchers and demo-cord that bordered on the truly inspired. He was also a huge pain in the ass.
"We're patrolling the town," Beltran replied simply. "Making sure that the Jedi and the refugees are safe while they have their little party."
Truth be told, Beltran wasn't exactly thrilled about being assigned here. He was only a week out of medbay and, like Reece, was itching for a little action to get him back into fighting shape. The wounds he'd suffered on Kintan had nearly killed him. In fact, if he was being accurate, had killed him, twice, as that was the number of times he'd flatlined while being evacuated from the ruins of Kh'aris fortress. One of the medics had told him that it was nothing short of miraculous that he'd been resuscitated even once, much less twice.
Beltran, for his part, preferred not to dwell on it. The entire battle was something that the Lieutenant preferred to forget. The idiot who had ordered the hovertanks to fire on their own walls hadn't just breached the fortress, he'd been responsible for the deaths of nearly half of Beltran's soldiers. Other than Reece, only two others had survived Kintan and their recoveries would keep them from active duty for some time to come.
Command had been pretty tight lipped about who'd actually given the order to fire, which was probably for the best. Beltran had reached out to certain contacts he had within the Rangers' command structure, but so far they hadn't turned anything up. If the Lorrdian ever found out who had given the order, he would make sure that the idiot met a grisly end in a ditch somewhere.
"Boss? I think something's going on up there..."
Reece's voice pulled Beltran out of the little daydream he'd sunk into and back to reality. In a split second, Beltran and the three other Rangers had their heads on a swivel. Up ahead, a being Beltran recognized as Subject 73 Red
stood with a young man (Reggie Faayare
) who Beltran didn't recognize. They were looking at something, and based on Red's body language, it was something that had him worried.
Following Red's gaze, Beltran saw it. Several clone wars era battle droids...and they were active. As one of them raised it's weapon to fire, another man (Corte Fletchador
) came from a different direction and fired on it, knocking it down and then blasting another. He then pulled a lightsaber and activated it.
"Forward!" Beltran ordered, raising his rifle to "high ready". He led the three Rangers toward the group at a trot. He keyed his rifle to super-charge and unleashed a bolt at one of the other droids still standing. The heavy bolt hit the droid in the chest, cutting through the droid's armor plating and destroying its processing unit. To his left, Reece cocked his carbine and fired off a spray of flechettes as the fourth droid, shredding it.
With the active threats down, Beltran brought his unit to where Red and the two others stood. "Drones," He ordered and his men each pulled a scanning drone from their belts, releasing them into the air where they began to float upward and away-searching the area for more. Finally he turned his attention to the other three and nodded.
"Lieutenant Rarr," He said by way of introduction. "Icarus Platoon, 5th Rangers. I have to say, I wasn't expecting battle droids on this mission."
Objective 1
There was a lot more going on than Amani thought there would be. She had never been to an event quite like this before, and the sensory overload made her pause a moment to take everything in. It was a nice distraction, at least. Taking time away from the studies and training that plagued the life of a Jedi padawan to celebrate was a welcome change of pace.
Amani looked around for something to do. She looked over to see a group of people dancing. Amani isn't so great of a dancer, though maybe it could be fun if she was sure she wouldn't embarrass herself in the process. There's a lot of food here, but she wasn't feeling a bit hungry at this point. She started to look around at the attendants. Amani still didn't know too many of these people, at least not very well. Maybe she could try and improve that?
As she continued to mull over her options, she noticed others looking up at something in awe, and looked up to see what was going on. Sure enough, her reaction was quite similar to everyone else. As a great dragon came down to the village, Amani paused for some time, unable to speak, before finally managing a single word.
"Ladies and gentlebeings, today marks the start of the construction of the new homes!" the Togruta official announced in front of the crowd of refugees from Myrkr and Kintan.
At this point, the cake was almost finished, but it was then that the ceremonial shovel was handed to the Togruta official responsible for carrying out the entire project of building new homes for the refugees from Myrkr and Kintan. Engraved and painted in gold, the shovel was then used to carry out the first dig in the ground, with the excavation crews standing by to continue the construction of what would become a new home for hundreds or even more people. Whereas other races preferred to celebrate the laying of the cornerstone, before one could even think about laying a cornerstone, ground must be broken around it, even with shallow foundations. Jessica, on the other hand, will then use the Force to continue the digging around the hole that was just dug.
Corte looks at the Rangers who just eliminated the last of the droids and says Excellent to meet you Lieutenant Rarr, I'm not sure where those old droids came from but we ought to try and track down the source - there may be more. As Corte says this, he tries for a brief moment to clear his mind and see if he can feel the presence of any more battle droids in the area. He also felt it necessary to warn those in town at the party to be on the lookout. He therefore gets on his communicator and does just that. Lieutenant, I have a feeling that the droids may have come from that direction pointing towards a forested area directly to the west.
Red watched as multiple other people joined their party. One of them took down a couple of droids, and another brought a full squad, and took down a couple more droids. One of them introduced themselves. Red recognized him. It was Beltran Rarr
. Red had worked with him before. Red saluted. "Welcome to the real party, sir. Special Forces Agent Red, reporting for duty." He said.
Another one, Corte Fletchador
, spoke. "You think they'll come from the west? How do you know? What's your evidence?" Red asked. Red didn't mean to sound like he was questioning the man, but Red wanted evidence before they made a decision.
