Resident Evils - SJO Dom of Onderon

[WelshPsych]

Onderon. It might have passed for just another jungle-world, had it not been for the planet’s turbulent past. The wars had long been recorded, but there had been recent developments that prompted a call for help to the Silver Jedi. It had started a few weeks ago, when some of the Ruping went missing. Unfortunately, their search efforts had been fruitless.

Then, reports came in -- bloodcurdling calls had broken the night silence. And, that wasn’t all, some people had seen a frightful maroon-colored ruping. However, no one made contact with the beast until a local village was attacked. The high level of aggression and the curious change in skin color seemed to point to something unnatural -- something sinister.

Some wonder if the Sith, centuries later, have returned to take Onderon back. Can the Jedi find the origin of the strange ruping, and keep the people of Onderon safe?



Objective 1: Investigate the source. The residents of Onderon believe they have managed to locate where these aggressive ruping have been nesting. A group needs to investigate this location, as it may be the key to stopping these ruping.

Objective 2: Protect the people. The ruping have returned to strike again! Keep the citizens safe from these beastly creatures, and remember, they are quite dangerous. They are no longer the docile steeds they use to be.

Objective 3: Research. A maroon ruping has been recovered, the beast had been dispatched shortly before the arrival of the Jedi. Perhaps this grim discovery will provide some more answers.

BYOO: Bring you own story if you like! Onderon has great stories to tell!

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

{ Post: 01 }​

{ Objective: BYOO ~ crack down on the illegal activity }​

{ Location: Iziz Police HQ }​

{ Equipment: Hidden holdout pistol, little birdy necklace, outfit }​

{ Alias: Tantema Chicri (as Aes’ona) }​

{ Tag: [member="Cassius Droma"] }​

- - ☣ - -​

This seemed to always happen, in one way or another. It was bound to, really, in most any civilization. Prennis just hadn’t heard of anyone capitalizing on a disaster quite like this in a long, long time.

Some things she hadn’t left behind on the defunct First Order’s galactic doorstep, it seemed.

In Onderon’s case, there had been whispers about a sudden uptake in a certain black market. A surge in supply and thus profits. Though nothing had been confirmed through the shadowy grapevine, Prennis had a bad feeling the market in question was an organ trade. The recent ruping attacks would provide a convenient cover for body snatching, a hypothesis strengthened into a theory by the reports of morgues all over the planet slowly but surely losing theirs.

“Why else would they go missing?” she mused in the native accent, similar to her natural one, to no one in particular as she thumbed through the gathered flimsiplast ME files. A local detective admitted not knowing an alternative. “The most recently taken—” she flipped back to Cab Minetii’s, “—died of cardiac arrest. That kills most vital organs. They’ll be completely unviable.” That meant another body would be stolen, and soon. The window would be almost impossibly small too, as blood needed to be fresh and relatively oxygen-rich to keep a body ready for harvest.

Ever since Safehaven’s morgue on Hapas, Prennis longed to be back at the Halls of Healing, looking after the living, but this was important. Here, like there, the dead needed her attention more than their breathing counterparts.

The captain cleared his throat behind Prennis—Tentema—and tossed a photo over her shoulder. “Who’s this?” “No name yet, but a person of interest. He’s been seen by a handful of pathology assistants hanging around morgues in three cities. The last confirmed sighting was here, so he’s in our jurisdiction.

“What do you want to do, Agents?”

Tilting her head, Prennis glanced over at Cassius expectantly. She assumed he had been doing this longer than she had.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Location: Iziz, Onderon Capital
Objective 2: Protect the People
Allies: SJO & locals
Enemies: Rampaging Ruping

Not many Rangers could boast taking down a trained Sith Knight in a one-on-one duel. Turns out, doing just that had earned the young Private a commendation followed by a promotion to Sergeant, and was put in charge of a squad of rookies fresh out of boot camp. Already he saw a little of himself in each one, from that hopeful eagerness to do what's right to the warrior's need to experience battle first-hand. They were from all over Silver space, with little in common save their want to keep safe those unable to defend themselves. They were a good group, although their Sergeant was still very fresh in the role of a leader, having only just gotten used to do grunt work while better minds were in charge. Then again, he supposed those same minds saw fit to promote him in the first place.

It wasn't true of course; it wasn't he alone that faced the Sith Knight on the rooftops of the Silver Rest. Four others had paid with their lives, and it was by mere chance that he walked out of it alive and well. Top brass always did love their heroes however, and thus paid little attention to such details when describing his great deeds during the promotion ceremony. He supposed it made sense at the time - they needed to replace the recent losses with new meat, and there's nothing better than a good story to bring in new flesh. He would honour his fallen comrades in his own way.

"Uh, Sarge? That down there, is that... what did you call it, 'Aziz'?"

"It's Iziz, Private," he corrected now that his nap during the descent was disrupted. "Apparently there's been some kind of wildlife pestering the locals, keeping them up at night and such. We're to work with the local military and drive them away for good." Pulling out his rifle, he gave it a good checkin' before shoving in a fresh magazine. "Last chance to check your equipment. Don't wanna have a malfunction once the shootin' starts."

The shuttle set down within the city alongside many others, all of them carrying manpower and emergency supplies for the locals. Pushing the heavy sliding door open, he made certain to be the first one out. Whole battalions had been mustered to relieve the battered local military, with Dorn Company just being one of many companies. "Dak'kon, find me some solid high ground where I may set up. The rest of you, fall in on me." The Zabrak soldier jogged off towards a set of rooftops while the rest followed their squad leader to meet up with the rest of their company to receive further orders.

"Hey, Ros... Pretty spooky, huh? All dark and rainy..."

"Shut up, Eren."

"Yeah, shut up, Eren. Don't jinx it."

 

[Nida Perl]

Objective: 2
Location: Iziz, Onderon
Allies: [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] | SJO

Onderon was something straight out of those late-night horror holofilms Nida would watch when she had trouble falling asleep. They never did anything to soothe the healer, but they did draw her attention away from whatever was making her restless. Sometimes, it was helpful to know that the scary thing only existed inside of a screen. However, the dark skies over Iziz were very real.

Nida had arrived earlier in the day, talking to the locals and gathering information on the ruping attacks. Their stories all differed, but held one common element; once docile mounts turned red, raiding the villages and cities of Onderon by nightfall. She’d spent most of her time in the clinic, as one does, assisting in treating victims. It all seemed strange, they said—a disease that was sweeping the local fauna, perhaps. The mounts had been driven mad by some sort of pathogenic change, picking off the native Onderani in the dead of night.

The more Nida thought about it, the eerier it seemed.

Nightfall came and so did reinforcements, battalions of rangers joining forces with the local city guard in order to protect civilians from the beastly threat. Weaving her way through the flanks of soldiers, Nida’s heart skipped a beat as she sensed him—no doubt he’d be here. Following the thread of Force that would lead her to him, she soon came across Thirdas with his new company.

“Sargent Heavenshield,” She approached him with no small amount of delight in her voice, unable to keep from smiling wide at the sight of him leading his own group of soldiers. The last time they’d seen each other was at his promotion ceremony. “It’s good to see you again.” She did not reach out to touch him even though it was her first instinct, not wanting to embarrass him before he could solidify his status as a leader, even though he appeared to be faring just fine. Still, her voice was full of warmth and affection. It was good to see him, doubly good that he’d be here with her during his horror film. “Welcome to scenic Onderon.”

 

[Griet van Vliet]

Location: Iziz CBD, Onderon's capital
Objective: 2
Allies: SJ [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] [member="Nida Perl"]
Enemies: Rampaging ruping
Equipment: In signature

"Stay hidden, miss. I hate to say this but this preliminary planning meeting should be postponed, because the ruping are approaching the city"

"Why am I getting those troublesome clients that spell trouble? First, the Aing-Tii, and then the Ssi-ruuk! I can't even get started on doing the audit planning"

These days, on Onderon, people were willing to pay a premium to get an external audit from off-world accounting firms since home-made assurance providers were in short supply. Of course, the lure of premiums brought her and her team of external auditors to Onderon, and even in the absence of threats such as the ruping, what always get on their nerves was that clients' shareholders assumed pretty much without fail that the entity engaged in wrongdoing, no matter how immaterial the wrongdoing may actually be, if any. Why can't clients just accept that audits are often needed even in the absence of wrongdoing suspicions, especially if their financing depends on it? she thought, while reaching for the items visitors are asked to deposit at the lobby. For her weapon in fact. But that setup meant that she would need to move to a different building to get a better vantage point if it came to it.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Objective: 1 | Tag: open​

​

Judah Lesan, Jedi Master. The old man still was getting used to the idea that the Jedi actually trusted him to be a master. He’d earned it the old fashioned way with hard work, blood and sweat, with a few tears mixed in. His life had not at all ended up where he expected it to. Half Jedi, a little pirate, and one hundred percent Corellian, the man was the sum of his life choices. Judah had two sons to his. And with two different women. One had been his wife who rest in a grave on the vineyard he owned on Naboo. The other son had been a surprise twenty nine years after the fact. Hat human and half Zeltron. The sultry pink kind Magena Dray had his the truth from high of them a long time.

He cleared his throat, as the shadow who preferred to work alone moved about Onderon in search of the nest which some identified as the source of the attacks. It wasn’t that Judah didn’t trust people, he just didn’t trust people. Student after student had abandoned the order, and those he once called friends were nowhere to be found. There were a few names he still recognized, Heavenshield was synonymous with the Silvers as they came. It still did not mean Judah was going to pick up a student or a partner. His days of trying to be orthodox were over. It wasn’t like he was any good at it anyway.

The fifth something Jedi looked more like a spacer than a monk, something he was quite proud of these days. Sure he had a set of robes he wore when he felt like it, green robes that were a wedding gift. They sat in a cedar chest more than not because it hurt too much to wear them. A widower who lived alone back where it all began. This was going to be quite the adventure. The twin savers at his waist swayed in agreement.

 

[Vaulkhar]

It had been many years since Ven had been to Onderon. In his youth, he was sent to the jungle planet under order from his father. Ven's time on the planet was spent hunting and killing a group of Jedi for the One Sith. However, the memories of such a time were long gone, along with the vast majority of his life leading up to the last few months. After a desperate defense of Kashyyyk beside the Silver Jedi Order, Ven made an effort to connect with the order and was awarded with some semblance of trust. Given his past, the older members of the order were unsure of his presence but made no moves against him. For his actions on Kashyyyk against their invaders, he was granted some leeway for past atrocities. It was more than he could really ask for and he was happy about it, especially considering he had no idea what he was wanted for.

Onderon had proven to be an interesting enough planet thus far, even though he'd been cooped up in a moderately sized village. Many within the order had their own ideas on why and how the rupings were attacking in the way they did. Most of the order had moved on from the smaller village, though he believed there was more to be done within the village. Why he felt that way was beyond him, perhaps the force? It didn't matter. His attention shifted from an inward view back to the surrounding village. It was a quaint little place with plenty to do with plenty of people. It was a nice place.

A group of villagers had gathered up around his padawan companion, Jamie. Ven hadn't put much effort in getting to know the young woman, his focus was on both the village and the force. She had been sent to act as an overseer for his first mission, ensuring he would not turn on the order without them at least being made aware. It was a smart move given Ven's supposed history, but one that was not completely necessary. He strode up to the group and cleared his throat. The tall halfbreed pushed gently through the crowd and moved to the young woman's side. His hand rose as he offered her a thumbs up.

"I finished my lap of the village. Things are looking good so far. Having fun wooing the townsfolk with your lightsaber?" Ven offered a playful grin before looking off to the north.

[member="Jamie Lysle"]​

 

[Rupert Kingswood]

Objective 2
Location: Onderon, Iziz
Allies: SGT [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"]

Onderon.

Not the worst planet he could've been sent to along with some Rangers as backup, but definitely not the best. The gang had been assigned here to watch over the citizens of the jungle planet against whatever foes might come across the group. The planet itself was dark, spooky, and if one would believe scary, yet nothing in the dark would barely phase Kingswood.

The corporal landed with the other Rangers who started a slight relief effort and citizen interaction in the populant town. Dorn Company fell into formation, with him right alongside them. The newly promoted Sergeant [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] stood among them as well, the man in which had much respect for. He received orders along with 2 other Rangers to take up a perimeter along the northern corridor section labeled on the map that they were shown. The boredom would slowly start to creep its way in as Kingswood sluggishly dragged himself along towards the FOB.

As he arrived, we would be positioned in the very front of the FOB. He sat in a very old chair, staring into the darkness in front of him. Staring right back with its feeling of emptiness, it gave the corporal the creeps. He deactivated his visor and took of his helmet, letting the outside breeze blow right into his face. It calmed him down, gave him time to realize he could relax. His teammate, Private First Class Sven Starling, sat down on the ground beside him as he took out a box of death sticks out of his assault pack. "Want one?" The private asked in a tone of boredom. Kingswood stared back, giving him a look that said why the hell not. He took one out of the clear box as he lit it with Starling's lighter. He took a drag and started to relax, the constant worry of the planets beastly creatures slowly faded away...

 

[Cassius Droma]

Objective: BYOO – Investigate the disappearance of bodies
Location: Iziz Police HQ
Tag: [member="Prennis Keeoli"]

Cassius’s arms were crossed, his brow furrowed as he looked at the images laid out before them. The start of the investigation was always difficult, trying to find that first lead. In a sense, this kind of work was very similar to his studies in archaeology, only this was time-sensitive. Unfortunately for the people of Onderon but fortunately for their investigation, the ruping attacks had made these crimes go unnoticed for longer than usual, so there was a little more evidence to work with.

As it turned out, so far, Cassius and Prennis made a good pairing for this mission. While both were people of science who could think through situations logically, Prennis’s medical knowledge was invaluable, while Cassius could lend himself to the more mystical and mysterious aspects of the case. He, too, thought that this could simply be a case of a boost in the organ trade due to the ruping attacks, but when the good doctor explained just then that the most recent body taken had no usable organs, it gave him pause.

“Not viable medically, perhaps,” Cassius said, shifting his arm so that his gloved thumb could stroke the bottom of his chin, “but there are… other uses for a body, sometimes…” He left the rest to the imaginations of those in the room as he leaned forward to look at the new picture that had been put on the table by the captain. At the moment, this man was the most viable lead.

“Get us the names and locations of the morgues they were seen in and at around what times the pathology assistants saw him,” Cassius said. “Tantema and I will head to the morgue here in Iziz. Also, if you can, provide us with an up-to-date data stream of deaths to our datapads. That way, we might be able to predict which body they’ll take next, and where.”

 

[Tulan Kor]

Location: Iziz
Objective 2:
Allies: [member="Rupert Kingswood"] l [member="Nida Perl"] l [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"]
Enemies: The things.


Rain.

Rain, darkness.

Rain, darkness, and sound.

It's what let him sneak up on a distracted Ranger, Rupert Kingswood.

It's what let him snatch the cigarette out of his mouth and throw it under his foot. There, in the rain, and darkness, stood Gunnery Sergeant Tulan Kor- at his meager height of 5'6. But Tulan was a very-

Scary man.

It was like he had the Grim Reaper on speed dial, the way he removed people's souls from their bodies without so much of a second thought. He blinked, his eyes partially concealed by a mixture of camouflage paint and grime. He was spending his time in a sniper's blind, content with scanning and observing. It was what lead him here.

"Don't ever let me catch you smoking on post again, Corporal. You give away your position like that again and I'll slit your throat before the enemy gets a chance to."

Tulan looked over the landscape, staring down the private. Tulan had garnered a reputation of disappearing- and then reappearing, conveniently with whoever pissed him off or earned his ire on that particular planet somewhere in a morgue or missing. Tulan turned his bearded head towards the landscape again, his eyes falling away from the private. He touched the long gun across his chest, equally camouflaged in various capacities, much like the rest of his body was. Wrapped at the suppressor and around the weapon, with moss and ground-colored cloth and strips of sack. Tulan could disappear with what he was wearing. But he wanted Rupert to see him.

He walked off, stalking silently. It was there that he finally ran into Thirdas.

And a Zeltron woman giving him hotel-bedroom eyes.

He stared at her hatefully.

She was in the way of the mission.

Oh right that was- whatshername.

Neeta.

"Nice to see you, Neeta. Heavenshield, on me."

He nudged his head and began to walk. Despite the kid's promotion thanks to him slaughtering some nerf herder or something to that effect, Tulan was concerned with his tactical capability, not his ability to beat the crap out of a single guy. He motioned Thirdas to follow him- and began to speak.

"We've set up a perimeter. I've been here for a few days now, working with the locals. I'll transfer all the imagery and reconnaissance data we've collected to you. Sergeant Barn was nice enough to give you this." Tulan turned to him, holding a small datapad.

Of course, Sergeant Barn took delight in Thirdas' progress. He, was, after all, his first meeting with the Rangers, on a somewhat personal level. Tulan held out the datapad containing weeks worth of imagery and analysis of the incidents unfolding. As the forward recon unit, Tulan was often alone with a small team for days and weeks at a time before the Rangers made their move. So his word, was essentially law, gospel of what was going on.

Tulan blinked before speaking again.

"Take your team. I want you to patrol six hundred meters outside the wire here, towards what we can only assume to be something that interests the more rabid and vicious Ruping. Take a small team, get me eyes on it, and stay quiet. If you spot something, I want you to prepare to guide on artillery to it. We're ending this threat to these people as soon as possible, and by the Force, it is has gotten to the point where they need men like us to kill or tame these things. I say kill 'em all."

Tulan turned to walk away, now elevated in his responsibilities concerning the Rangers. He stopped, turning to face Thirdas again.

"Congrats on the promotion, knucklehead."

Tulan walked off, after berating one Ranger, and tasking another.

Of course.... the night was still young.

 

[Sigyn Vanir]

Objective: 1
Post 1
Tag: [member="Judah Lesan"]

Onderon: a beautiful jungle planet, With interesting Wildlife. But the People that lived there seemed like Cowards. Hiding behind walls, not daring to face the threats that were outside their city.

This was what Sigyn thought of the planet and it's People, as she walked through the jungle. Sure, she had heard the stories about war and the beast-riders, but where were they now? All she had seen of the Onderonians were People who hid behind the walls of Iziz.

When she signed up for this mission, Sigyn wasn't aware that she would be working alone. It wasn't like she was afraid of the Creatures living in the jungle, it was that it was boring to walk completly alone like this. She would have preffered the Company of at least one other person, jedi or not. The only Company she had now was her spear and the force.

She was dressed on pants and a long shirt With a west over for this mission. All in the colors of Brown and green, so it would be easy to move around and camuflage herself in the plants if needed. She had not yet made a lightsaber for herself, so the only weapon she had was her spear, which was good enough.

As she walked there, in search of the nest, she suddenly heard a sound. It sounded like someone coughing, or clearing their throat. In a second, her spear was aimed at where the sound came from. Sigyn stood still, trying to hear, or feel, what had made the sound. The jungle made it hard to see much. "Who's there," she said. "I'm a jedi, and I came here to help the People of Onderon. Show yourself."

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Objective 2: Protect the People
Location: Iziz, Onderon > Off on patrol
Allies: [member="Nida Perl"] | [member="Tulan Kor"] | [member="Rupert Kingswood"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"]

The appearance of the Zeltron approaching had him slow his pace and a grin made its way to his lips. "Padawan," he returned her greeting with the same mirth. It took his every self-control to not embrace her in front of everyone, instead turning to his squadmates in an attempt to stay professional. "Hey, guys, you uh... Why don't you go stock up on ammo? I'll join you shortly." Private Ros, the collected Chiss, answered with a shrug of her shoulders and led the others towards the supply station. No doubt some of them would have ideas as to the nature of the relationship between Sarge and the young Zeltron.

As soon as they were alone Thirdas stepped in close, his hand reaching for hers. "You're freezing cold," he commented, now taking both her hands and enveloping them inside of his palms, then breathed into them to warm her up some. "Now I know to get a pair of mittens from back hom for your birthday," he smirked, neither of them able to take their eyes off the other. That soon changed with the sudden arrival of his ever-angry superior, breaking up the reunion with the grace of a raging bull.

"Gunnery Sergeant," he did as asked, offering Nida a regretful expression before following Tulan to receive his orders. Upon being handed the datapad he studied it as Tulan kept talking, soaking up any bit of information he could. What he suggested did seem a bit extreme, as was his way he'd learned, though Thirdas knew to interpret his hateful rants; perhaps actually calling in artillery would not be necessary, but he understood the idea behind it. "I won't fail you, Sarge." They had been through numerous operations together after all, so he figured he could afford some amount of familiarity with the man.

When Tulan then turned to congratulate him... in his own, unique way, Thirdas replied with a well-intentioned: "Thanks, nerf herder."

Stuffing the datapad into his pack he made his way back to Nida, this time wasting no time in grabbing and kissing her hard on the lips, no longer caring whether anyone would notice. Theirs was still a blossoming romance, with each interaction encouraging them to further show affection for one another. "Hey, so... You know, now that I've been promoted I've got my own place for once. It's... a bit spartan at the moment, but still. I was wondering, maybe you'd like to come over sometime? Maybe watch one of those old holos you like?" It was a bold suggestion, as they had yet to take a night to themselves while at the Silver Rest. Most of their time together had thus far been spent in the field or dining together in the cantina.

"Anyway, I best be on my way..." Just saying those words took everything in his power. Taking her hands once more, he raised them to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Lady Nida," he then added with another smirk before stepping out of her reach.

"Ros, Dak'kon," he hailed members of his squad. "Sorry for the time-waster, Dak. Round up everyone and meet me at the main gate. We're going out there."

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

{ Post: 02 }​

{ Objective: BYOO ~ find Dabri Suutar }​

{ Location: Malgan Market > Royal Mortuary, Iziz }​

{ Equipment: Hidden holdout pistol, little birdy necklace, outfit }​

{ Alias: Tantema Chicri (as Aes’ona) }​

{ Tag: [member="Cassius Droma"] }​

- - ☣ - -​

Prenn skirted through the marketplace’s midafternoon foot traffic, headed in the direction of the Royal Mortuary. Still, she stuck close to Cassius, voice low as she continued to soundboard: “You think...? Does Onderon have a state religion?” Maybe it had been twisted, or some obscure cult flourished in the underground, possibly alongside the black market. After he gave an answer, a notification on Prennis’ datapad dinged. “C’mon. If we hurry, we might catch the next ambulance.”

They were just in time for the offloading. As the duo were approaching the loading dock, Prenn read off some of the records that the captain had sent them: “Onderon has this mortuary system, pretty state-of-the-art, to keep track of their bodies. It’s like, uh, a virtual chain-of-custody for each body.” She reached over with her free hand to tap two fingers to her bicep. “Normally, they’re embedded in the upper arm.”

She cleared her throat, put away her datapad, and looked up at the funeral worker. “Where ya coming from?” she asked even though she was rather sure of the answer.

The worker’s eyebrows stitched and he hesitated until Prennis held up her temporary police badge. “Precinct six. Accidental death.” “Uh huh...” Hell of an accident. She didn’t have to be a pathologist to recognize defensive wounds. Catching Prennis looking over a portion of the body the white sheet had slipped off of, the man was quick to readjust it. The reaction was almost as strange as the obviously incorrect cause of death, but Prennis had to stay focused. She wasn’t here to take over the ME office.

“When was TOD?” “About ten hours ago.” On average, there were two more hours before lividity set. It would be a slim window to steal the body for harvest, but theoretically it could be done. Still, maybe Cassius’ alternative theory was more on the nose. “That’s a quick turnaround.” Instinctively, she glanced up at Cassius. “We’ll take a look around.” “Help yourself.”

Once safely inside, effectively out of earshot of all but the eternally asleep as they walked down a cooler corridor. “Suutar’s got to have someone aiding and abetting,” she thought aloud. “Those fancy tracking implants can only be turned off by undertakers during the transportation process from one facility to another.

“Or, um, cut out.” A shiver ran up the nurse’s spine.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Objective: 1 | Tag: [member="Sigyn Vanir"]​

​

The forest gave Judah a sense of peace. Life itself was on full display in the green leaves of the trees or the woods FS sung by the fowl which was native to the planet. The soil was soft, fertile and rich, and even the bugs and worms which scurried about the ground had their role to play the ecosystem the world provided. Had Judah not been on mission he might have paused to run through the katas he had made his own students work through as part of their morning meditations. The old shadow was beginning to reconnect with his reasons for choosing the life of a Jedi over the other things he could have done. Perhaps he had gotten out of touch with his reason for being and chased other things he didn’t need to.

Another was in the woods, young and unable to hide her force signature. Judah knew he would not be alone in the mission for long as others would search out the nest. What surprised Judah was to find a young padawan walking through the woods alone. The last time Judah ran into a young red haired girl he’d taken her into his home, raised her as his own, only for her to leave. Several memories flashed in his mind of the way life had been before Corellian was ripped apart. The Jedi missed his home, he missed his wife and son.

He cleared his throat to see how she would react.

Jumpy.

The spear she carried was out looking for whoever it was sneaking up on her, and Judah only chuckled as he slowly stepped out from the brush and leaves he was behind.

“Don’t be so jumpy with that thing. You’ll end up stabbing someone you don’t mean to,” he said when he was in full view. “I’m Judah,” the master said leaving off his title and any formality that would come with it. The old man was as informal as they came. Rules and code had always been suggestions to him anyway. Anyone who stayed around long enough to get to know him knew that, and if they didn’t they would figure it out quickly.

“C’mon, the best should be another kilometer this way...”

 

[Zef Halo]

DXUN
BYOB: GHOSTS OF THE PAST

It stared back at him.
Amon shuddered and put back the eons old Mandalorian helmet on the jungle floor where he had found it among the vines and shuffling carapaces. From behind, cutting his way through the flora, Typho appeared. The two had been tasked, Vizsla had volunteered, to discover the abandoned Mandalorian base on the moon.
'This way.' he said and cut through a horde of green revealing a path. Many would've missed it but not Amon.
He'd been here before.
When [member="Vilaz Munin"] claimed the mantle of Mand'alor he had planned a galactic wide crusade which would launch from the jungles of Onderon's moon. Amon and his father Ronan had ventured to see the 'commotion' in first person. Not long after their departure from Dxun years ago, the crusade dissipated and merged into Ra Vizsla's ambitions of torching the Galactic Republic.
'Once upon a time this was the last enclave of my people.' Amon heard himself say. He wasn't sure if he was speaking to himself or to Kenth, or to both. 'On the brink of extinction they still survived....No matter the odds, you cannot kill an idea, Typho.'
He cut straight through another fortress of overgrowth as brutally as the Sith had decapitated Manda'yaim.

[member="Kenth Typho"]

 

[Kenth Typho]

DXUN
BYOB: GHOSTS OF THE PAST
[member="Amon Vizsla"]

He followed along with Vizsla.

Trying to suppress the shivers. It was a creepy place. Not a Kiffar, nor a Forcer, but there was history here. A certain feel in the air. Like generations were looking down upon them and judging them. Kenth didn't like it. He judged himself enough in the mirror as was. Didn't need some old dead people thumping their nose at him too. "No disrespect meant, Vizsla, but I will never get Command's obsession with reclaiming ancient places like these."

He muttered while helping chopping down some of the overgrowth.

"Would be far more cost-effective to just pick a new place. Flatten it. Build something nice and modern on it." A slow stretch there. Crawling awkwardly over a toppled pillar, crouching to avoid a particularly gross spinweb. "What has the past really brought us, eh? Sith, Jedi, Mando'ade. Each one of 'em so focused on what some ancients said in a war millennia ago. So many people dead over the wills of those long since departed."

Nothing in the plan said anything about a lecture on the past.

Or philosophical discussion.

But apparently Typho was more annoyed with their shit than he had realized.

"Let the past die, s'all I say. We got enough chit to worry about in the present."

 

[Zef Halo]

DXUN
BYOB: GHOSTS OF THE PAST


Amon envied Typho's possession of living only by and in the present. Memories had haunted the young Vizsla ever since that fateful day he had fled the Vizsla fleet with a wavering purpose. Some days he lost all hope and meaning of his purpose to change from the ways of his father and some days his resolve seemed unbreakable.
Today fell under the former category.
He said nothing back to the intelligence captain.
The two carried on chopping through like clean up droids until a slash revealed to them a new canvass - buildings of pure grey durasteel wrapped around with tentacles of green. A clearing in the midst of it, where the fighting ground was, remained intact as if the jungle itself dreaded bothering the sacred Mandalorian ground. Nature was merciless on the former outposts' structures but there where the core of Mandalorian tradition formed in the shape of a small chunk of flat dirt used as a fighting ground remained untouched.
You cannot kill an idea.
A screech rang through the wilderness. Frantic wings flapped as birds ruffled through branches and leaves to flee to safety. Beneath that sound - a thunderous clap, easily mistaken for the crack of lightning. Once, twice and a large hideous winged reptile lashed out from the trees like a missile headed straight at the two Rangers.
They had disturbed the domain of the famed drexl. A beast which had killed the legendary Mandalore the Indomitable eras ago.
Vizsla had no similar plans but Mandalore probably didn't either.
'Typho, the net!'
They really had enough chit to worry about in the present.

[member="Kenth Typho"]

 

[Cassius Droma]

Objective: BYOO – Investigate the disappearance of bodies
Location: Iziz
Tag: [member="Prennis Keeoli"]

Prennis began to muse about his theory, and Cassius shook his head somewhat. “It doesn’t have to be a state religion. They could come from anywhere. Secret societies and cults can hide in plain sight, or be so underground that literally no one outside of their group knows what it is. That being said, there are still a myriad of other explanations. It could be scientific, mystical, or perhaps a blend of both. We won’t find out much more until we can get out hands on this Suutar guy.”

As was bound to happen, another unfortunate soul was lost, so the two of them made their way over there. When Prennis explained Onderon’s mortuary system, he raised an eyebrow. “A tracking system for dead bodies…” he let the words float for a moment. “Maybe this was a problem before. Or perhaps the state doesn’t want to be liable to a grieving family if something gets lost.”

He could detect a hint of deception from the morgue worker, but even with the Force, couldn’t pin down what it was. She’d picked up on it too, due to being able to see a small part of the body before it was covered up. Cassius chose to remain silent during the interaction. He was letting himself sink into the surrounding area, using the Force to try and sense where dark intentions could be harbored.

Finally, they were inside of the morgue and presumably alone. The doctor had a theory that their person of interest had some sort of help from the mortuary system itself. He nodded, saying, “It’s entirely possible. I’m sure that for enough credits, someone could be convinced to hand over a couple of bodies a month. They probably see it as a victimless crime, as the person is already dead.” His eyes glanced around the hallway. “Like you said, however, they could be simply cutting out the transceivers. It’ll depend on what the bodies are being used for.”

Just then, a wave of anxiousness washed over him, forcing him to pause and look behind them. Although he saw nothing, his brow still furrowed and his eyes squinted. “I sense something. Darkness,” he said, knowing that it was a little vague. “I think the one we’re looking for is here.”

 

[Nida Perl]

Objective: 2
Location: Iziz, Onderon
Allies: [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] | [member="Griet van Vliet"] | [member="Rupert Kingswood"] | [member="Tulan Kor"]

Nida was patient, offering Tulan a polite smile and tilt of her head by way of greeting. After working with the Ranger to protect the younglings of the Silver Rest when the Mandalorians had attacked, she’d gotten a feel for his coarse nature. “And you, Sergeant Kor.”

She watched the pair walk off for a few moments before closing her eyes, feeling the wind and the drizzle against her skin. The air smelt of rain and fog, which would only make things more difficult as the night trundled on. Her mind drifted for a few moments, focusing on everything her senses were pulling in. One dark and stormy night…

Suddenly, her eyes flared open as Thirdas had pulled her into an unexpectedly passionate kiss. Nida had been cognizant of his approach, hearing his steps as he’d made his way back towards her, but she hadn’t expected him to be so brazen in public. By the time he’d pulled away, Thirdas would find Nida with a flushed face and a shy smile. “I’d like that, Thirdas.” Idly, she tucked a piece of violet hair behind her ear, still a bit dizzy from the display of affection. The thought of them actually spending a night alone sent butterflies into her stomach and implications into her mind. Still, she would never turn down getting to spend more time with Thirdas. “As should I. Be careful out there, don’t go getting yourself hurt just because you want to end up in my care…Sarge.” She made sure to add in his new promotion, a playful curl at the edge of her voice.

The streets of Iziz began to empty at dusk, most civilians electing to stay indoors where they were better protected from the nightly threat. Nida didn’t go directly back to the clinic—those hadn’t been her official orders. Ondern was under no great need for medical personnel, but rather, for protectors. Making her way down a misty street, something gave her pause. It lasted only a few moments, but the anticipation was agonizingly eerie, at least until a blood curdling screech ripped through the fog.

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRREKKKK!”

Every hair on the back of her neck stood up and Nida dropped, rolling sharply to right, narrowly avoiding the strike of a winged beast. With another cry, the ruping reared up into the sky once more and circled, priming for another strike. Nida exhaled, eyes narrowing to try and hone her sight through the fog. Her small pink hand curled around the hilt of her saber, drawing the tool from her belt and thumbing on the ignition. The yellow blade shown like a bright beacon through the fog, rain sizzling intermittently along the plasma core as Nida watched and waited for the corrupted ruping to take another dive at her.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

Objective: 2 - The Shatoon Monastery
Gear: NEXU Strike Armor, Energy Bow, Obsidian Lightsaber
Companion: BB-3J
Tags: [member="Jerek Zenduu"]

The young Dathomiri found himself in the company of a strange teenage human.

These were the Silver Jai -- allies of the Mandragora who seemed respected by the Witches of Ryloth and the Knights Obsidian both. So, when the opportunity to provide assistance to the Jai arose, the Mistwalker had volunteered for the prospect of seeing these otherworldly Jai for himself. To better understand the ways and mannerisms of the Mandragora's allies.

And mostly because he had no idea what he was doing or why not to volunteer himself.

It had been an uncomfortable journey, ferried across the sea of endless stars, trapped inside the metal carriages. The sterile, recycled air was an affront to the senses. An unnatural environment in which he strained to feel the spirits. Now that they had arrived to the planet, the teen found his anxiety subsiding even as he found himself on an alien world.

The jungle was thick, surrounding the monastery in all directions. The soil here was good. Rich. Fertile. Abundant with verdant life that was quite different from the boglands of his native Shaol'mara.

But the spirits of the land? Those were the same. Crouching down, the black glove probed at the soil with dark talon. Retracting his hand, the dirt slipped through his gloved fingers -- catching as dust in the wind. "Ama het I'shuree lora," the boy uttered, a raspy whisper that offered a prayer to the Twin Gods of Dathomir.

A warbling chirp roused the boy from his communion with the land. Raising his head up, the red skinned youth looked over as a black BB unit rolled toward him. The mechanical one was a gift. His guide in the world beyond worlds, the realm of modern technology that was a foreign concept to the Talay Zabrak. At first at a loss to comprehend the droid's meaning, a second, shrill sound told him that the droid was trying to give alarm.

The horned boy's head craned back in time to catch a glimpse of a shadow. That was it. Merely a shadow. Indistinct and ominous, gone the same instant that he might have claimed to have seen it in the sky. Rising to his feet, the boy's hand went back over his shoulder to rest against the bow that was slung across his back.

He would have preferred an enemy that better suited the zhaboka, but it seemed that whatever evil plagued this planet that a zhaboka might not give him the reach that he required.

Even still, wielding one of those laser bolt casters seemed out of the question. For him, at least. Such a weapon seemed... uncivilized.

"Shureen fideno de mu," the youth offered, with a motion to usher the small, rolling droid onward.
We should move on.

Unslinging the bow from across his back, the black armored squire casually ran two fingers down the draw string as he took up the rear behind the droid. He would be satisfied when they had finished their patrol and returned to the monastery.

He wonder how faired the Jai. The one that they had called Jerek of the Zenduu.