KOTOR III: Stat' Geroyami (To Become Heroes)
STAR WARS: KNIGHTS OF THE OLD REPUBLIC III: STAT' GEROYAMI (TO BECOME HEROES)
Victory! After defeating and redeeming the Sith Lord DARTH TRAYA, known once more as Kreia, upon the sundered planet of Malachor V, the JEDI EXILE, Tysyacha Dvyx Ordo, left all of her companions aboard the Ebon Hawk behind--save one. They set to rebuilding the Jedi Order on Dantooine, with the newly-furnished Enclave as its headquarters. The Exile now prepares to wander in search of REVAN, her onetime Master and previous Dark Lord. She believes he is the key to finding the true Sith Empire in the Unknown Regions.
Meanwhile, the fledgling Republic, struggling to rebuild after near-decimation by Darths Nihilus and Sion, soon finds itself in an even-more-ironclad grasp...
"Well...that's that." Tysyacha sighed to herself as she once again let the soft thrum of the Ebon Hawk's hyperdrive and the silence of everything else fill her ears. "I've betrayed them, sparing a Sith Lord like that, but I can't help but wonder if they've betrayed me. Aren't they supposed to be Jedi?"
"They may be Jedi, but they're weak," stated her husband coldly, the Mandalore Canderous Ordo. "They're strong enough to fight, but when they suddenly abandon their captain after all this time, just because of one old witch, then that means they're cowards. I wouldn't have done that, Tysy."
The Exile stepped forward and lay her hand on his arm. "I know. You still want to find Revan, don't you?"
Canderous paused. "I don't know whether I'd kill him or join him if we found him. Revan's done to me what those fools have just done to you--left you somewhere, in some desperate lurch, to see if you'll do something good. Not for me. I chose to come with you because I've spent enough time trying to unite the clans under my leadership. Bralor will take it from here. As for me, whatever Revan wants me to do, I'll do it if I don't smash his skull in first."
Tysyacha nodded. "I see. Are you sure you still want--her--aboard?"
"Traya? She may be an old witch, and a former Sith, but I daresay she's a kriffing sight better than all of our other shipmates. She's the one who taught you to be strong again after you were weakened by the loss of the Force."
"I was perfectly strong, but there was a hole in me, a hunger. A hunger that only the Force could fill; otherwise, I'd be as dark as Darth Nihilus was in time. I'd keep trying to feed and never rediscover what could nourish me."
"Speaking of nourishment..." whispered Canderous, nuzzling Tysy's ear.
"You're hungry already? Oh, you beast! I'll go find some rations for us."
"Not that," he countered with a smirk, pulling the Exile close for a kiss.
In the port bunk of the Ebon Hawk, Darth Traya, now known simply as Kreia, meditated, perfectly at rest. She had a half-smile on her face, as if she knew something that neither Canderous or Tysy did. This was most likely so. She still retained that searing wisdom of hers that no one dared to match.
Rest now, Exile. You love your husband, yes? Then hold him in your arms and see him for who he truly is--through the Force. On the Dark Side? Ah. Such things will change as you continue to gain his trust and his influence. He has your love and your respect, but he does not yet have a goal he shares with you beyond finding Revan. Let this pass--it shall come in time.
Canderous Ordo, having spent all the fire a Mandalorian could muster, pulled his wife to his side and pillow, stroking her hair. So strong...so beautiful.
I'm dying, Tysyacha. His mind was mostly immune to the Force, though--
It took the Exile two hours to bolt upright from the nightmare of this phrase.
The sound of the door to her temporary quarters echoed through the small room that had been given to Audrey during the journey to Taris, which since it's bombardment, had been began a criminals paradise and several criminal organizations, including the infamous Exchange, had several safe houses located. Audrey turned around and with a sharp voice, asked "What do you want?". There was a brief chuckle from a Douglas Mansfield, the captain of the ship. It was clear from his appearance that this man was a nasty peace of work, he fit the wife beating drunk to the finest detail. He was ugly and fat, his gritty clothes barely covered his stomach, and what he lacked with eye candy, he appeared to make up in muscle, obliviously a stim abuser.
"What, can't a captain check on his passengers?" Douglas asked, the stench of alcohol could be smelled even from several feet away.
"Not since we had an agreement that you wouldn't," Audrey replied before turning and standing, revealing what she had been doing.
"What's this?" Douglas asked before pushing past Audrey and looked at the table behind her. On that table, various mechanical peaces had been carefully laid out. Douglas turned to Audrey with an burning anger in his eyes. "I told you no unregistered weapons allowed. It's against the Galactic Republics interstellar transportation law."
"Wife beating is against the Galactic Republic Humans rights law but you seem to ignore that," Audrey replied. Douglas response was causing and slapping her. Not a moment since Douglas had left Audrey's face, she turned to back to it's normal position. Instead of resorting to violence on this man's level, Audrey used the force to fight back. The conventional way would to merely push someone, however Audrey's powers were more tuned than the average Jedi and the conventional way would be a waste of talent. So instead, Audrey reached out using her mind before taking a hold Douglas' heart and slowly began to control it's beat.
Douglas was a strange awareness of what Audrey was doing and was petrified. All he could do was stare into Audrey's empty eyes and his heart beat began slower and slower, until it stopped all together and Douglas collapsed to the floor. This annoyed her because it now meant she had to kill the other crew and passengers to remove all witnesses. She quickly removed her civilian clothes before replacing them with her ninja styled assassin's amour. Once that was all in check, he assembled a blaster rifle from the mechanical parts laid out on her desk before leaving her room.
Kreia sat in her cabin, her legs crossed meditating and pondering her new, robotic hand.
Then, she had quickly learnt to cope with only one hand. Then, she hadn't really cared about it and seen it as just another mark of her own incapabilities. The old Jedi Order had died because it had had to die and still they might vindicate her yet. Then, she had warned the Exile that a marriage, let alone to someone she really loved, was bound to weaken the bond they shared.
We saved each other's lives and sanity a number of times, my apprentice. Shall we ever call it quits? Shall we never call it quits? That remains to be seen...
She deftly spun a deck of pazaak cards through her hands. The fool's wisdom... I wonder if this sense of complete-ness will stay with me much longer. What will Revan be like? Has he taken his lessons to heart? Is Tysyacha even aware of the fact that she and Revan are like magnetic opposites in the Force? She must control her feelings for her husband or they will leave her blind. Poor Candreous, she would follow you everywhere. Instead, you chose to follow her to your own undoing.
Kreia got up and took her lightsaber from her belt. The faint greenish blade sprang into existence, giving her grey robes a soft green tint in the dimly lit cabin. She closed her eyes, concentrated on both hands and started a Juyo move as if it were in slow motion. Time to practice...
Prae let out a grunt of irritation as he tossed a full-grown Mandolorian straight into the cantina wall. This pitiful 'fight', if it could be called that for its ridiculousness, was beginning to grate on his nerves.
He'd come into this relatively quiet cantina for a drink and a little peace while his friend, Cetanu, was off on an errand. Next thing Prae knew, he had apparently not paid enough respect to some Mando hotheads and was tossing them around like it was going out of style. When one had tried to pull a pistol out, Prae had crushed that one's hand, and now he was running out of patience for this.
Another came charging at him and Prae caught the Mando's head with his large hand, smashing it into the ground and knocking it out cold. The next one met the same fate and the one after similar also but instead met the wall. The two remaining ones were hesitant, and when Prae let out his species battle cry and activated his energy sword, they turned tail.
Letting out a grunt of approval, Prae deactivated his sword and sat back down at his table, taking a sip from the ale he had ordered. He looked up at the nervous waiter that approached him and said "Bill please."
Some errand, picking up huge crates of supplies for Prae was not what Cetanu called an errand.
He hefted the last one up onto his shoulder, walking off towards the cantina Prae had went off to, Cetanu noted that next time his mutual friend was either going to have to pull his own weight when it came to supplying his own ship, or Cetanu was going to be in the cantina enjoying some peace, while Prae would be hog-tied in the cargo hold.
As Cetanu let his frustration seethe for awhile, he noticed a bunch of Oomans, as his people called them, high tailing it out of the cantina. From what he could tell they were what Prae called Mandos, but what did he know, all humans looked the same to him. The only thing he could tell the difference between them was which gender was which.
Cetanu entered the drinking establishment, bent on relaxing at least a little bit before they headed off. When he entered he noticed some more unconscious Oomans in the room, and Prae getting up from a table after placing what he told Cetanu were credits on it. Cetanu waited for Prae to approach him.
"I see you got into another fight while I was gone," he said, his mask's translator working perfectly, his speech coming out in a naturally grating and low tone. "Why is it that every time you send me to do something, you end up in a brawl? Alright, next time I'm coming with you, no matter what you want me to do, no matter where you're going. My hands weaken from my lack of combat. Then again, the Oomans were lucky I wasn't here, if it were up to me, they'd all be dead and headless right now...they got off easy with you....as usual," he ranted at his friend.
But Cetanu paused as he noticed his friend's placid expression. "I was hoping I could relax too, but I guess that's not going to happen," Cetanu said in what could only be guessed as his translator's form of muttering. He stared at his friend in silence as he switched the crate from one shoulder to the other, seeing as it was wearing on his arm.
"Fine, I'll shut up and follow you," Cetanu muttered again resignedly, he just wanted to get this frustrating box off his shoulder and do something, it'd been weeks since he'd last had a good bit of combat and action, and months since his last hunt, but his duty to his friend came first.
"Tysy?" asked Canderous gently, or at least as gently as a Mandalore could. "Moya' dvukh?" Meaning "my lieutenant, my second, my right-hand man," this was the ultimate term of endearment from husband to wife. "Are you all right?" He noticed her short breaths, her wide-eyed stare, her tension.
"Yeah, I'm all right." Tysyacha smiled and shrugged, but then let her rather broad shoulders sag. "It was just a nightmare. I dreamed that you were dying, or rather that you said you were dying." She glanced quickly at him.
Stang. Jedi can read minds even in their dreams, it seems. Could she really sense what I was thinking, or did she only have a nightmare like she claims? Canderous did not like it when anyone, not even Tysy, used Mind Tricks on him. It made him nervous at best and angry enough to kill at worst. Still, she had been asleep, and so he would give her the benefit of the doubt.
"Go back to sleep." A tender grin. "You've had a long day today, what with all the others betraying you and leaving us alone at last." They both chuckled.
They settled down into an uneasy slumber, Tysy snuggling even closer to the Mandalore and he himself switching his implants to the regeneration setting...
Kale Kaltas, formerly known as Revan, looked at the secret camera feeds he installed in the Ebon Hawk before he abandoned it with T3-M4, and now, even he was gone from the ship, the only one he knew who was still onboard was Canderous Ordo, and he was nearing the end of his life. How he longed to be back at the helm of the Hawk, but he knew that the True Sith recognised it, and sending it back with T3 was the only way to stay alive. However, he worried that if Tysyacha went after him, the Sith would destroy the Hawk before she would have a chance to open fire.
Her movements steadily becoming faster until the blade was slicing through the air in a flurry, Kreia almost danced through the confines of her cabin and enjoyed herself bathing in the Force.
Only in conflict may we live to become stronger.
This time around, she was controlling the force to aid her, the feelings of predetermination, and being driven rather than acting of her own accord, had finally left her. She composed herself and returned to sit on her dull and worn floor mat, an inconspicuous little comfort she allowed herself.
”I am dying...” still hung in the Force like a tiny insect frozen in mid-flight. Kreia leisurely examined the excited little fragment of Canderous's mind that had been thrown into the Force by his loving, worried wife, turning it around to look at it like a scientist would look at the unfortunate insect.
Death may show more mercy to you than to your slowly dying tribes, o Mandalore. You still are so full of intent, may it serve you well to last as long as you must.
In the Force, the little spark that was Mandalore showed a thin, hairlike connection to the huge, bright beacon that was Tysyacha. Your lover's life hangs by a mere thread, my pupil. I cannot allow you to die along with him, you that are to me like a daughter that I never knew I had.
AWAKEN. COME, CHILD. WE MUST SPEAK OF YOUR FUTURE.
This second time, the Exile was roused from sleep carefully, tenderly, as Canderous would do if he were the one shaking her senses into alertness. However, it was Kreia doing the waking, not he, and Tysyacha blinked. It can't be. My husband--dying? I thought that I was having a bad dream.
After donning a soft Jedi nightcloak and wrapping it around her frame, she snuck to the portside dormitory. Kreia was there, watching and waiting.
"So it's true, then? It's not just my imagination?" Kreia nodded solemnly.
As for Tysyacha, she knelt down, collapsing as much from humility as from mental exhaustion. "Master! Tell me what I must do. How can I heal him?"
'Sit up, child,' Kreia said softly. 'Heal him? Is that what you wish for? When I told you the Mandalorians were dying a slow, sad death, I did not refer to your husband. He will die, like all of us, long before the last Mandalorian.'
She let the words sink in, showing genuine concern as she felt tears well up in her pupil's eyes. 'Canderous's time may come soon, and you must brave yourself for the moment, my dear.' Her wrinkly old hand carefully holding Tysyacha's, Kreia helped the girl see through the Force.
'Behold the glowing sun that you are. Do you perceive the small planet attached to you on this ever so delicate line where once you and me had a strong and lively bond? This is what remains of your Mandalore in the Force. The Force is the foundation of all life, and for his resistance, your lover must pay a price. You and me both have managed to live without the Force and caused great damage. Yet, we have returned into its shelter where we must remain, a place where Canderous may not be able to go. If he dies before his time, this little attachment that he is might well cause you greater harm than you anticipate.' She paused, thinking.
How can I break this to her, the old woman wondered, she needs to be intact and at her best to face the task before her. She is only too likely to follow, like once I did follow and was followed in return.
Kreia let go Tysyacha's hand and straightened herself. 'I shall always be there for you, and see you through your perils, girl. Now is the time for you to lay aside your dreams and be the strong woman you have grown to be. I cannot heal your husband for your sake, or for mine. This time, you must lead us into the future. If Canderous can be cured, you are the one who may find that cure. You must lead the way and be strong. Strong enough to let go. Is your love strong enough to give it up, for your own sake?' she said, sternly.
'Compose yourself, my pupil. Think and decide wisely when you choose the path that will take us forward into the future.' Kreia briefly touched Tysyacha's cheek, a friendly, comforting touch. With another tiny gesture, she sent her apprentice off and solemnly watched as a heavy-hearted Mrs Dvyx left the dim cabin in deep thought. Do not forgo your lessons, daughter.
Tysy crept to the starboard-side dormitory where her husband lay sleeping. It seemed the journey into hyperspace from Dantooine--and their after-hours activities--had indeed fatigued him, despite what he took sly pride in claiming. "Mandalorians need no sleep," he'd once quipped. "They only need stims--lots of them. Good thing I have extra." Apparently, those 'extras' had run out, possibly for good, but perhaps not...
She lay her hands on her husband's chest and began to heal his stressed musculature through the Force. Even though Canderous was not Force Sensitive, that by no means meant he was immune to his wife's augmenting his strength, power, or health.
"Mmmm...Tys? Could you do that a little bit longer? My stims must have run out..."
He let out a great, rumbling snore, and Tysyacha fought tears springing to her eyes.
Canderous opened his eyes slowly, looking at Tysy as she healed him. He didn't pull himself completely awake yet, allowing himself the luxury to relax. He sighed. How did I survive after Revan left.... just sitting their in my camp on Dxun, trying to make a name for Mandalore. Until you came.
He could already feel his muscles heal and relax. Even though he knew he weas dying, even though he didn't want to go, he found a smile. At least I'll die to this. Letting the drowsiness back into his eyes, he laid his head back down and fell fast asleep.
"Ash!" The clear voice of Dakota Cedar rang through the little ship and Ashton Casey groaned, burying his head under the pillow. There, he could still hear her voice, but could make out nothing of her words... until she was standing right over him, at which point she was saying, "...going to wake you up, but I'm sorry, I've just got to." And with that, she lifted the pillow from his head. And that's when she said the three little words that finally caught his attention:
"We're crashing again."
Ash bounded out of bed, calling on the power of the Force to aid his entry to the bridge. He reached the pilot's controls, eyes wide, but breathing steady. "I told you to come out of hyperspace before the navicomputer said to," he grumbled to Dakota, who'd followed him to the bridge.
"I did," the young woman replied patiently. "It wasn't enough. You know, instead of tinkering with add-ons, perhaps we ought to replace the important parts..."
"I'll consider it if we don't impact and explode," Ash quipped. In the end, after a seriously 'rattly' descent and a few not-so-necessary parts falling off, the little ship made a more or less 'safe' landing... and then, the landing gear gave way.
"We need a new ship," Ashton grumbled softly. Dakota laughed softly.
"I've been telling you that for six months now," she teased. "But look on the bright side... the ship isn't going to explode, so we actually have a decent amount of time to work out exactly how we're going to get out."
"Yeah, now that the ship's weight pretty much rules out the boarding ramp," Ash murmured. "Well, there's always..."
"Lightsabers?" Dakota laughed in disbelief. "You know how the locals would react?"
"We could just use a welding torch," Ash replied, "which was what I was thinking of..."
"And we happen to have one?" Dakota teased, knowing full well they did not.
"I guess that means lightsabers and mind tricks, Dakka," Ash shot back with a cocky grin. "C'mon... we can take a few frightened locals on... what's this place called again?"
"Kiffu," Dakota supplied helpfully. "Near-humans for native species... if that helps."
"Friendly?" Ash wondered. "As in, friendly enough to cut us out?"
They sat for a moment in silence and suddenly, a face peered in through the forward transparisteel viewport. The native gestured to the young couple and they drew back from the viewport. In a matter of minutes, several Kiffar had completely cut out the front of the ship, clearing a path for Ash and Dakka to depart.
"Thank you," Dakka said pleasantly. "And we apologize for the mess we've made of your landing pad."
"The mess is not your issue," one of the Kiffar offered kindly. "You need only to pay the docking and scrapping fees... a total of three hundred credits."
"And we shall do so gladly," Ash said, stepping forward and handing over a credit chit. "Thank you very much for your kindness."
"What will you do for a ship?" another of their rescuers asked. "This one isn't likely to fly... ever again."
Ash glanced back at the pitiful wreck and shrugged. "We'll figure something out," he sighed. "We've got no choice..."
"Best of luck to you," a third Kiffar offered cheerily. The young couple waved at the gathered crowd and moved into the city, looking for either work or passage offworld. But the problem with traveling for the sake of traveling is that you never quite know where you're going... or if you ever get there. Both Ash and Dakka knew this, and somewhere deep within, they longed for a purpose more than just living.
So far, as far as he knew, his plan was working. Strengthen the Republic, weaken the True Sith. He was nearing the last planet he knew of on which the True Sith was building a garrison: Lehon, a planet he had not been to in seven years. Hopefully the Rakata there would still be friendly to him, even if they had been enslaved by the Sith. If the information he had was accurate, most of the Rakata were working in weapons factories now in place across the planet, and he could halt production by starting a revolt at one of the factories, letting news of it spread to the others, and within weeks, the planet's value to the Sith would be reduced to nothing. Before doing anything else, he decided it was finally time to send a message to the Hawk. Knowing that Tysyacha would not recognise his face, aged not only by time but also by solitude and separation from the woman he loved. He did know, however, that she would recognise his familiar, though more lightly coloured robes he acquired on the Star Force shortly before his battle with Darth Malak. He entered in the frequency of the Ebon Hawk into his W-Wing Starfighter, and began his message. "I know what you seek, Tysyacha Dvyx Ordo, and I know where to find it, but if you value your life and that of your husband, you will not go looking for it without my help. Meet me on Lehon, as I need your help as much as you need mine."
A cryptic message suddenly flashed onto the Ebon Hawk's worn but still far-from-malfunctioning communications console. Tysy, who had just recently returned from her healing session with Canderous, gave a start. Who was the sentient on the "other end of the line", and what were his or her true motives for initiating contact? She read out loud:
"I know what you seek, Tysyacha Dvyx Ordo, and I know where to find it, but if you value your life and that of your husband, you will not go looking for it without my help. Meet me on Lehon, as I need your help as much as you need mine."
She turned to her husband and Kreia, who stood stock-still in the ship's silence.
"Is this a trap?" she asked. "What do you two think?"
After seeing the puzzled expression on Canderous' face and the unreadable one on Kreia's, the Exile cleared her throat, which had become dry all of a sudden. "Regardless of whether we go to Lehon or not", she announced, "it's kind of a moot point to go there right now because our food supplies and fuel aren't going to last that long unless we buy more." Slow, thoughtful nods.
"I suggest we go to Kiffu instead. The people there are near-humanoid, so we should be able to communicate with them pretty easily. Plus, they're not hostile to strangers, or so I've heard. Might be a good place to regroup and collect our thoughts before we head to the Unknown Regions--and the Unknown World." This seemed to provoke a more positive reaction--for now.
"Who knows? We might be able to locate some allies on Kiffu, and we're going to need them if we'll eventually fight the True Sith. Assuming, of course, there are no true Sith on Kiffu." Tysy snickered, but neither Canderous nor Kreia seemd to find this funny. The True Sith were no laughing matter.
Without another word except a muffled "Heh...!", Tysy turned and set a course for the planet of the Kiffar, hoping you-know-who weren't there.
"Did the message say who it was from?" Canderous stepped forward. "I can't see it as being a trap, but I'm not sure of the intentions of the person who sent..."
He sat down in the co-pilot's seat, feeling the ache in his joints, and watching as the Hawk entered hyperspace. "Just a question.... what happens if we do find True Sith on Kiffu? It would be up to you two to try and fight them, and I can't imagine the the three of us outnumber them. If they find us, I don't know if we could get away."
Tysyacha nodded. "I'm sorry if this all seems so sudden, my love, and you make a very valid point. If the True Sith are on Kiffu, even only a few of them, it will be highly difficult to escape their attacks--and their stealth surveillance. Here's my plan: Due to the fact that there is a wound in the Force inside of me, I form bonds with and leech the life out of Force Sensitives quite easily. The Jedi Masters, if they had been less kind, might have called me an 'eater of souls'. If the True Sith attack, I will bait them into concentrating their efforts on me and trying to drain my life. It won't work. Only Kreia has been good enough to try,"--here a wise half-smile--"and the True Sith know nothing about power compared to my Master. You'll see. I know you'll fight if you can."
"Oh, of course I will." He smiled. "Any Sith bastard that comes and tries to kill you or me will get more than he bargained for." Its just.... I'm not as strong as I used to be. I don't know if I can do it. "Don't worry; you're in safe hands with good old Mandalore." What if I can't protect her?
"Anyways, your plan seems to be good. Lets just hope it won't come to that."
Taking her time joining the couple in the Ebon Hawk's cockpit, Kreia stood for a moment longer, as if lingering with a far-away image in her mind.
'You shall do no such thing, my pupil, and neither shall you, o Mandalore. You, my child, rest safe in the Force now. Do not believe you may pull the trick from Malachor again and live.
This may well be a trap but we shall enter it with mind and eyes wide open. Would we stand a chance to fight an opponent? Yes. Would we stand a chance to fight the True Sith? No. Not on our own. You know very well, Tysyacha, whom we need to ally with to that end. You know whom we need to find, and where.'
Turning to Canderous: 'Please, I must counsel with your wife. Will you spare us a moment?' Kreia said, and as soon as he was out of earshot, she repeated: 'You know whom we need to find and who sent that message. I leave it to you to tell your dear husband about your past with him on your own terms.'
Sensing desolation in her apprentice, Kreia compassionately touched Tysyacha's shoulder.
'I told you a long time ago that we all must pay a price for our love. It is a gift to us that we mustn't ever take for granted. What if he makes a claim to you? Will you side with him and abandon your husband? Will you find a way to handle this among shades of grey as I have taught you?
Enough of this, for now. I cannot feel any presence in the Force strong enough to be a True Sith. Even when they hide, they leave patterns to find each other. There are no such patterns here. We shall be able to avoid any dangers we might face here with a little persuasion. Now is not the time to fight. Be most careful who you ally with in the near future. This is no leisurely trip to a smugglers' moon.'
The old woman retired to her cabin, deeply in thought. When she passed Canderous, she thanked him for his understanding and asked him to see his wife in the cockpit, but gave no hint about the conversation.
"Mandalorechka," began Tysyacha, using a term of affection from her native tongue, "before I met you--long before I met you--I served as a general under Revan in the Mandalorian Wars. You probably remember that, but what you don't remember is that Revan and I sort of had--far-off feelings for each other, like stars winking in the vast distance of space, only too far apart to undergo fusion. That was then, however. This is now, and the only man I love is you. Revan and I never spoke of our mutual attraction, anyway.
"There is also a rumor, which you might have heard, that Revan fell in love with another woman after the Wars, in the course of his travels to find and destroy the Star Forge. Her name is Bastila Shan, and if I recall correctly, Revan left Bastila behind before he ventured into the Unknown Regions. Should we find Bastila on our journey, which I highly doubt we will, we might want to take her with us to see if she can help combat the True Sith."
Tysy shook her head. "No one should be left behind--not even us. The souls who were aboard this ship forsook me once they found out I spared Kreia. That was their choice, and I'm wondering what Revan's choice will be once we meet up with him, if we ever do. The Force knows I've made mine."
She wondered if Mandalore would turn his back or embrace her once again...
"So..." a young Kiffar girl said cautiously, approaching the newly stranded duo, "you two just... sort of... fly around and do whatever seems to be... right?"
Ash chuckled softly. "It's a bit more complex than that, but essentially, yes."
"How do you know what's right and what's not?" the girl asked curiously. Dakota smiled.
"You've heard of Jedi, yes?" she asked. "And the Force? Well, I used to be a Jedi. It's hard to explain, but... the Force sometimes seems to have a mind of its own. that is what we're following."
"So you do what the Force wants?" the girl asked.
"Kind of," Ash agreed. "But at the moment, I'm unsure as to why it wants us here." He glanced around. "Though that's what it seems like. We've been unable to negotiate transport away... we've been here what, two days?"
"Two days," Dakota agreed. "So we wait... and run out of credits."
"Cheery, cheery, Dakka," Ashton grinned. "We'll get off eventually... and if we don't, we'll just pick up jobs until we can."
"That's the way we live," Dakka told the girl. "It's sort of strange sometimes... but we don't mind strange. It's when things become downright confusing that we don't like it."
"I hope they never do," the girl announced solemnly. And then, her mother called for her and she scampered away.
"Me too," Ash murmured. "C'mon, Dakka. Let's see if we've got any new ships arriving today."
Mandalore looked at Tysy slowly, then nodded his head, and took her in his arms. "Well, then. Sounds like we need to get started. Are you still planning on going to Kiffu, or do you want to go find Revan?"
Revan. The Jedi warrior who had led the Republic against the Mandalorians, devastating them. He remembered those battles still, but they didn't bother him. There was another memory, stronger than the memory of his days on the battlefield; a memory of him being in this same ship, so many years ago, fighting right alongside Revan against the Sith Empire.
Now he wondered where the wandering Jedi had gone, leaving his friends and love behind him. "If you think that you know where Revan is," he said, "why not seek him out now? The True Sith can't hope to take on all three of us - not that I need the help." The little touch of cockiness in his voice surprised even him.
Cetanu shrugged his shoulders a bit, and rolled his head around on his neck. He'd finally dropped the supply crate off at the ship and he was now stretching, he'd gotten stiff while carrying the box.
"Well, what now Prae?" He asked his friend, looking in his general direction but not actually focusing on him, as his attention was focused on the locals passing by, they seemed Ooman enough to him, but they were...different, for one they had tattoos on their faces.
"What planet is this again?" Cetanu asked Prae curiously. His friend looked over at him and stated, "we look for work. And we're on Kiffu."
Cetanu didn't make a single motion, just like Oomans planets were all the same to him, some were very different from others, but all in all a planet was a planet to him. Cetanu finally fixed his gaze on his friend.
"Normally you find the work, I help," Cetanu stated blatantly, his mood hadn't improved in the last hour. He also knew that this would be one of those days. Prae seldom complained about finding them both work, but on occasion he'd get into these clammy moods and Cetanu knew that he should leave him alone, it was one of those rare occasions where they parted ways and found jobs on their own. But Cetanu wasn't going to complain, when this happenstance occurs, it's one of the few opportunities he gets to hunt without Prae looking over his shoulder. As he'd learned with his ten odd years of traveling with Prae from planet to planet, that most species looked down on the hunting of fellow sentients. But that never stopped him from doing it on the odd occasion. And it also never stopped the local law enforcement, sometimes military, from chasing them off world on an odd occasion.
Cetanu stared at his friend for a couple more minutes before giving a snort and turning his back on him. "Alright," he said in a dejected tone, he'd go find work, and he'd try not to get them kicked off planet. But if the world they were on didn't have any dangerous creatures on it, then Prae had better pray that Cetanu wouldn't snap, pardon the pun.
After that, Cetanu stormed off in the opposite direction of Prae, he didn't like looking for work on his own, he had horrible people skills.
((Sorry Rex, you weren't posting, so I decided to make some command decisions. Hope every thing's okay. PM me if you need to.))
Tysy glanced at the Ebon Hawk's viewport. "Looks like the navicomputer and the hyperdrive have already made the decision for us. Kiffu's in sight, and we're coming in for a landing!" She sat down at the cockpit console and typed in several coordinates.
After a few seconds, she furrowed an eyebrow. "Wait a minute--Sixteen! Sixteen! Not six, you stupid computer! Hold on to your helmets, you two. Fasten your harnesses!" Knowing that the error had been her own and not that of the system, her face burned red with embarrassment. "We're going to come in hot, and not where we expected."
The ship lurched and buckled, furiously launching itself into the atmosphere of Kiffu. The hull began to glow, and the Exile hoped and prayed that this landing would not be one of the most disastrous in Kiffar history. Swerving a bit to the left, Tysy barely managed to avoid the center of a booming and glittering metropolis, crashing in a very well-positioned clearing, an urban park of some sort. Tysy curled up into a fetal ball.
"I can't believe I did that," she said miserably. "This ship needs a new pilot." As much of a fool and an impulsive wisecracker as Atton Rand was, he could fly this ship far better than I. Now we'll have to spend some of our credits on needed repairs...
"Yes!" Dakota exclaimed. "Look! There's a new one... scheduled to touch down... Ash? What is it?"
"They're coming in too hot," the young man answered. "That's a crash trajectory if they can't straighten up a bit... they can't! Look! Look! They're going down!"
He darted off down a side street and Dakota followed him. They reached the edge of the park just as the ship skidded to a halt. Dakota was instantly concerned.
"Injured?" she asked aloud. Ash shook his head.
"Looks like everyone got clear in time," he said. "Come on. If the ship's still capable of takeoff... never mind that, I can see it's not. Hmm... they'll need repairs."
"Hope they have the credits," Dakota murmured. Ash nodded.
"They need a pilot," he stated thoughtfully. "C'mon... I think the Force may be nibbling at us..."
((That's fine MA. Been a bit busy all of a sudden, but hopefully I'll be posting more now.))
Prae snorted in irritation as Cetanu stormed off. These days, work wasn't always easy to find for warriors. Well, at least work that was up to the needs of a former warlord and a sentient hunter. You had to deal with the hand you were dealt though, and Prae hated the one he was dealt at the moment.
Transporting supplies was not Prae's ideal trade, but it was the trade that kept his ship flying and food in their stomachs. That wasn't even going well, and soon they might have to resort to actually bringing passengers aboard. That wouldn't go well with the already short-fused Cetanu, who would either have to dispose or hide all of his trophies very skillfully if they wanted to avoid an incident. The bounties on their heads because of Cetanu's trophies didn't make Prae happy either, but there was no stopping Cetanu from hunting so Prae tried not to think about those. Overall, it was a matter of moving from place to place and getting a constant supply of jobs that support their physical and cultural needs.
He stood up from the ramp of his ship, The Valiant Glory, and headed off back to the cantina in which he had dealt with the Mandolorians. However, along the way, he saw something very interesting: a red-hot ship falling from the sky and then roughly landing/crashing in a park. Prae dully noted this as, to the average person, not common and decided to head over and investigate as a few other sentients were doing.
Reminds me of the Huffar Blitz, Prae thought fondly as he calmly walked over.
Cetanu had been skulking down a path near a clearing, or park as some people were referring to it. He paused and looked over at the clearing in the large city, it was like a clearing in a jungle, a big metal and stone jungle. He entered the clearing and finding some small amount of cover he crouched down to observe. He was always interested in the behavior patterns of other species, both for curiosity reasons and more practical reasons as well.
As Cetanu looked around he noticed that there was hardly anyone around, so he got up and began to walk back towards the city, but his instincts kicked in like someone starting a stampede. He turned and looked around with a sharp gaze, he knew something was wrong if his senses were going this crazy. Then he heard the sound of a descending ship, looking up he saw something that wasn't pleasant, the sight of an out of control vessel heading for the exact clearing he'd decided to stop in.
He turned fully in the direction of the ship, staring at it curiously as it plummeted toward the ground...not just the ground, it was coming down near him!
After a few moments of ominous silence the ship made contact with the ground, plowing across the ground it headed straight for Cetanu, but instead of moving he stubbornly stood his ground, his hunter's mind was telling him that he would be making a mistake if he moved, though every ounce of his body, instincts included, were screaming, 'MOVE YOU JERK!!!'
As the ship came towards him it slowed considerably, until it settled only a couple of meters in front of him. He looked the ship up and down for a couple of moments before moving towards it, curiosity was now shouting in his mind, while the rest of his senses were saying, 'what was that for!!?'
Cetanu crouched a bit and then launched into the air with a strong jump, clearing the distance between him and the ship. He landed oh so gracefully on the front view port of the ship, with a nice hard thud, as he clung to the front of the ship staring into the view port, looking like a big ugly bug smashed against the windshield of a car. He attempted to look into the ship but found that the screen was too tinted to see anything, though he could probably use his thermal vision to make out any vague shapes, he didn't want to be sticking to the ship the way he was any longer than he had to.
Cetanu pulled himself up onto the top of the ship and began looking around. He peered over the edges of the ship to see if anyone was coming out. As he looked over one edge he saw two people coming towards the crashed vessel, a male and female Ooman. Cetanu stared ponderously at them for a moment before crouching down on the edge of the ship and waited for them to approach. Observing them was more interesting than waiting a year and a day for the people in the ship to come out, and personally he didn't want to hassle himself with trying to get into the ship.
So he waited, and watched, until his gaze settled on a familiar figure approaching the ship. 'Great,' thought Cetanu. 'There goes my fun,' he continued, looking back over at the couple approaching, for now he'd ignore his companion.
Tysyacha had not expected the biggest, most hideous metal-covered bug in the entire galaxy to paste itself suddenly on the cockpit windshield of the Ebon Hawk. Dazed, frightened, and utterly crestfallen, she clambered out of the damaged vessel with Kreia and Canderous not far behind.
Sorry, she thought of saying to the flabbergasted observers in the park, but the Exile instantly knew that sorry wasn't even going to come close to "cutting it" in this situation. Instead she said, amplifying her usually-understated voice through the Force: "I apologize. I'm the one who crashed our ship, and if anyone's wondering, we did not intend to land in this park. We wanted to coast smoothly onto one of the landing pads at the nearest spaceport, but I typed in the wrong coordinates in the navicomputer."
Tysy shrugged and laughed ruefully, softly as well, hoping to make at least some Kiffar laugh or forget their confusion for a moment. No such luck.
"Glupa, glupa yei," one of the bystanders said, and Tysyacha nodded humbly. This meant stupid, stupid her, and she felt it was wholly true.
Amplifying her voice again, she called out, "Does anyone know a mechanic?"
After a few moments of overpoweringly awkward silence, a tall Kiffar female with whitening hair stepped up to her. "Greetings. My name is Yeru Dolzhna, and I sit on the council of this fine city. See you the damage you've done?"
Tysyacha looked around and saw the broken concrete, the smashed trees, the tipping glowposts, and the anger and confusion of the people. "Yes."
"I know you must be quite sad," replied Yeru, "to have done this, as it was only an accident. However, this quarter must be repaired, and to do so will cost one hundred thousand credits. Have you that much, my lady?"
The Exile's bowels turned to water. "I have--one-fifth that, but no more. I was hoping to stock up on fuel and food supplies for the next leg of our journey, but it seems that wherever we were traveling to will have to wait."
"Indeed. Perhaps if you do not have the credits, you will be willing to do some community labor for us? We are building a temple on Kiffar, a Hearth Home where all species will be welcome to heal, rest, and meditate on their lives and actions. It is not yet finished; the final wall is not as high as it should be, nor as polished. If you will smoothen the edges of the holy stones in it until each one shines like glass, or else build the wall ten more stories, you and your crew can go with our blessings and the food and fuel you seek."
Twenty thousand credits should be enough, prompted Tysy's mind, or rather that part of Tysy's mind that was at once scared and self-preserving. Yeru will take the credits under...pressure. Time for a Force Persuade!
Good thing no one heard that! Tysy thought abrubtly, sweating.
Though Tysyacha would not realize it, it was quite fortunate that Dakota Cedar did in fact hear the urges of Tysy's mind. And so, to prevent the violation of a mind so untouched as Yeru's, Dakka stepped in.
"Councilwoman Dolzhna, don't you think ten stories is a little... extensive?" she asked, with a subtle touch of the mind... nothing so invasive as Tysy had been planning. "Even the shining of the stones... the work would cost you half a million credits, not the simple one hundred thousand this quarter's repair would cost you."
Yeru seemed to consider this. "Yes, the work I have suggested may be a bit much..." She frowned. "But we have had no good workers in months! How will the Hearth Home ever be finished?"
"With patience, caring, and naught but..." Dakka paused thoughtfully. "Say... ten thousand credits? With that, you can at least afford to hire good workers, yes?"
"Ten thousand would help..." Yeru murmured thoughtfully. Dakka smiled and turned to Tysy and company.
"And you can afford that, can you not?" she said sweetly. Credits were exchanged and the councilwoman departed, making arrangements for the Ebon Hawk to be removed from the park and taken for repairs.
"And as to the repairs of your ship," Ashton said brightly, "you can end your worries about that as well." He extended a hand to her. "Ashton Casey, and all his money at your service." He gestured and Dakka came up beside him. "And the lovely Dakota Cedar, my wife-to-be."
"Anything you need," Dakka told Tysyacha, "if we have it, it is yours, including..."
"A pilot!" Ash exclaimed, bowing grandly. Dakka giggled.
"Don't worry about him," she said. "He loves a bit of a show. But he is a good pilot. Not more than two days ago, he piloted a ship that will never fly again to a more or less successful landing in the main starport."
"More or less meaning I landed it... and then the ship's landing gear gave way," Ash explained with a wink. "But we have some money, if you haven't quite enough to cover the repairs and supplies you need."
"Ash," Dakka murmured in his ear, glancing at the overcome Tysyacha and crew. "Perhaps we ought to let them have a word in?"
"Ah!" Ash replied, his voice hushed. "Right..." He grinned apologetically at Tysy. "Sorry..."
A loud cough could be heard. Damn that polluted Nar Shaddaa air. He would swear he would destroy them if necessary. But, no point on getting angry with something so insignificant. And he had more important things to take care of. Being an undercover secret Sith Lord and a drug lord on the Smuggler's Moon was hard work.
"Master, are you alright?" One of his bodyguards asked him.
"Yes, yes, i'm alright," He yawned, 'Nothing interesting ever happens' He then sighed. He then caught the same bodyguard talking to another person.
"What is it?" Asim asked him.
"It appears one of your agents has stopped a gambler from cheating."
A nerve could almost be seen busting from Asim's forehead, "So? Kill him and throw him in the well, i don't care."
"It appears the gambler is an ex-Jedi, milord."
Asim's face could almost be seen shining ,"Really now? Well, that changes everything. Arrange a room for me to meet him," He told him, already getting up from his comfortable throne, "And oh, remember not to put a neural restrain in him."
"I do not mean to sound disrespectful, but Master, isn't that going to allow him to use his Force Powers?"
"You are questioning my orders?"
"No Master, i shall arrange that right away," And with that, he was off.
As he smiled, Asim looked at himself, "Perhaps i should put on more...elegant clothes..."
The door slided open and Asim walked in with burgundy-colored robes, made of the finest and purest silk with a gold pattern at the back. He then looked at the Jedi. Unshaved beard, mess of a hair, somewhat rugged skin, he just looked like he had gone through hell. Asim's minions probably roughed him up a bit. He then took a seat.
"Well, well," Asim began, "A gambler AND a cheater. Now that's not a way for a regular person to behave, much less a Jedi."
The Jedi simply spat at his face but as soon as it was about 5 centimeters of touching his face, it disintegrated into the air. Asim gestured with his hand for his guards to rough him up a little more.
"Now, are we going to have a civilized talk or am i just going to kill you? You choose?"
"None. You are letting me go," The Jedi ordered him, obviously trying to use the infamous Mind Trick.
Asim's face turned a bit innocent, "Oh, why, of course i'm letting you go!" He told the Jedi, a smirk on the man's face, "However, you're still going to answer my questions," He countered with a Mind Trick of his own, subduing the Jedi to sit, tightly.
"Well now, shall we begin? I have heard rumors that the Jedi Order has been re-established. Is it true?"
The Jedi resisted, "Clearly you have either misunderstood or haven't heard me. Has the Jedi Order been re-established or not?" He incited him to answer him, tightening his mind leash.
"Well now, was it so hard? Where are they located?"
A loud noise was heard as Asim telekinetically slapped the man across the face using the Force.
"...They're in Dantooine," He confessed, a single tear streaming from his eye.
"Ah, they can never get enough of Dantooine. Well, tell me just one more thing. Do you know a woman by the name of Kreia?"
The man remained silent.
"Hmm, i see, now you simply don't know her. Dispose of h-"
"Wait, please don't kill me! I'll tell you everything!"
"Hmm, not much of a Jedi here. But talk."
"Are you familiar of the Ebon Hawk? It was the ship both Revan and the Jedi Exile traveled in the past 5 years and now it seems the Exile is looking for Revan but so far she has had no luck. Will that satisfy you, Master?"
Asim smiled and got up from his seat, "Thank you...however, i absolutely despise anyone who changes of faction in a life or death situation. You are scum and scum such as you needs to be disposed of from this world!"
He then hurled a blast of Force Lightning which, surprisingly, wasn't even seen. The Jedi fell to the ground a second later, dead.
"Dispose of him."
"Maya," Asim said out loud while walking on one of his halls as a dark-clothed and purple-haired woman leapt onto a kneel from the ceiling beside him.
"Any news on the Ebon Hawk?"
"The information department has determined the Ebon Hawk was last seen near Kiffu," Maya told her master.
"Good. Take a couple of soldiers with you and infiltrate them. Gain their trust. Be wary of the old woman. I have taught you how to shield your thoughts and emotions so be sure to use that when with them. You may leave."
Canderous stared at Ash. He had absolutely no idea who the man was, and even though they could use the help, he didn't trust him. Canderous hardly trusted any stranger. "Considering that you and I seem to be in the same situation, I'm not sure why we would take you along. Seems to me, if it wasn't for the fact that our ship could get you off of this planet, you wouldn't be falling over yourself trying to help."
"And," he said, looking rather disdainful, "I suppose that we should accept your greatness as a pilot simply on your word?" He shook his head, and suddenly felt a pain in his side. Now, he really understood what it felt to be dying; he couldn't take those hard hits without making his body ache for weeks. "Sorry, but considering that your previous ship apparently, well... is in pieces, now.... I really don't see the need."
He glanced over at Tysy. "Besides, we don't need the help anyway." Canderous hitched at his gun belt menacingly. Now, Tysy - don't you think we need to get out of here? We don't want to attract any more attention, especially since was just turned a park into a landing pad.
When Prae got close enough to identify those who had exited the ship, he was surprised to say none the least when he saw that one of them was one he had come to know as General Tysyacha Dvyx. She had lead the fleet of the Republic, including his own, at Malachor V. Why was she here, and why did she crash? He didn't know, but Prae respected this human's commanding ability enough to warrant walking over and extend his greetings. However, since it was apparent that she was busy with someone else, he waited with arms crossed when he reached the group.
"Well," Dakka began thoughtfully. Ash just had to make a fool of himself and he grinned widely.
"The Force got the nibbles," he said cheerily. "Led us to you." To Tysyacha, he said, "Surely you know what that feels like?"
"Ash," Dakka murmured, shaking her head slowly. "Shut up." She shot an apologetic smile at Canderous and Tysyacha. "He gets very childish when he's excited," she explained. "To put it simply, we do not believe anything happens by chance. Our loss of a ship here, your unintended crash landing into a park... there's a calling, we were drawn to you. We know not yet why."
Tysyacha nodded. "I do indeed know what being drawn to something--or someone--by the Force feels like. I sense no deception in your words, but my husband? He may be a little harder to convince. "I'll make you an offer. If you set to the repairs right away and we like what we see, then you're very gladly hired. Of course, to address my husband's concerns, I'd like to test your piloting skills on the asteroid belt almost right outside Kiffu's atmosphere. That place is tricky, and it may be what led me to misjudge the coordinates for our landing. Deal?" She proffered her right hand.
After "Ash" and "Dakka" dashed off to survey the damage done to the Hawk, Tysy felt "drawn to something" through the Force, just as the two had mentioned. She would have ventured forward alone, except something told her to bring Kreia and Canderous, if they would come. Beckoning slightly, she smiled and started to walk forward toward the mysterious source of Force energy. Ah! Of course it would be...
...a half-finished building with silvery stones as ragged and jagged as the mountains of Mustafar! Tysy was surprised in spite of herself. So this was the Kiffar "Hearth Home." "I can't say I'm impressed," grunted Canderous, and Tysy gave him a look that said, Me neither. Out loud, she told him, "The Force brought me here, drawing me to this place just like Ash and Dakota described. Let's go inside and see how the builders are doing."
The builders, it turned out, were scrambling here and there trying to put panes of delicate transparicrystal in the windows, barking hurried orders to each other in a version of Kiffar where proper grammar was only a luxury. Tysy's eye was drawn to ten small stones set upon a ceremonial pedestal. They were as unpolished and raw as the boulders in the wall, but these, she noticed, radiated life through the Force. The wallstones did as well, but they were quiet, peaceful, at rest as much as inanimate objects could be.
"Hold," said Tysy gently. "I'm going to polish these, because if I'm not mistaken, they're Force-Sensitive ores. Not exactly pebbles--this could take me a while." She picked up a sandrag and set to work. Kreia meditated, and as for the Mandalore? He watched his wife with laughing curiosity. My love, sometimes I don't understand you, but fair play is always fair play.
When the Exile had finished, she reset the stones in their previous places, bowing to them and their highly-increased power. Suddenly they began to glow, and it wasn't long before a warm fire was ignited in their midst. The builders' eyes lit up with hope and wonder, and they all stopped their work to gather around the flame which required no fuel. They all felt much at peace.
Apparently, some of the builders had gazed at the Mandalore with sadness and compassion in their Kiffar eyes, and from species to species was given understanding. They knew what troubled Canderous, and Canderous stood still. It wasn't long before someone else arrived--a smiling Yeru Dolzhna.
"You have lit our holy Hearth," she said to Tysyacha, "and it was these very stones that I wished you to polish as your labor--one of love. Now we can finish our work without as much tension and fruitlessness as before. We would have done it ourselves, but the Hearthstones needed a polisher who was more than halfway sensitive to the Force. Thank you, kind one.
"We wish to present you with a gift before you leave--a Pendant of Pardon. This means we have forgiven you for the damage you caused to our park, and not only that, we offer you all our goodwill on your future travels."
A healing warmth radiated from the nine-sided crystal dangling from a light magnetic chain, and Tysyacha knew why the Force wanted Canderous here.
She bowed her head and her heart, released a valve on Canderous' helmet, and clasped the Pendant around his muscular and nigh-unbreakable neck.
"Better?", she asked as the builders applauded, cheering quietly in Kiffar.
Cetanu wasn't pleased, the people who'd come out of the ship had asked for a mechanic, and he had been ready to jump down and introduce himself as a tech savvy, when the same couple he'd been watching had offered to pay for repairs. Cetanu would have even gotten Prae's help, as neither one of them were inept at repairing things. Prae repaired his own ship more often than not, seeing as it was a Sangheili ship, and most mechanics had no clue how to work on one. Second, he himself was skilled at repairing, and even making weapons, and he had worked with Ooman technology before, it was nothing special, or even remotely difficult to work on.
Besides that, his friend and himself needed the work, and they would have done the repairs at half the price of any ship mechanic. But what bugged him further was the fact that he had seen much more than most others, and he had noticed Prae's patience towards one of the ship's crew, a younger female Ooman who'd simply ignored Prae and walked off towards some half-hazard building that didn't look like anything special. This burned him, his friend obviously knew her, and had politely waited for her to approach him, and she ignored him completely, Prae was the best person he knew, no one did that to Prae!
Cetanu growled audibly, then jumped off the tree he had perched on, since the ship had been so speedily taken away. He landed on the ground with a thud and began walking off towards the pointless building, as he approached it he paused just inside of the entranceway, watching as the same woman cleaned a bunch of rocks. This just irritated him further, the female had ignored his friend and himself to clean a bunch of useless rocks! He was about to approach the woman when he saw a flame kick up, it came from no where, and wasn't fueled by anything, this shocked him for a moment, but he quickly came to his senses.
The people in the area began to gather and get all mellow, he didn't see this often, and it reminded him of when Oomans got drunk. As the others seemed to get happy from the flame this woman had somehow conjured up, and clapped as she placed some pendant around some male's neck, he himself was seething with anger, this woman was annoying him to no end, and he barely knew her! It frustrated him, and he knew he didn't like this lady, he got a weird feeling when he looked at her, and he didn't like it, on top of that she'd completely dismissed Prae, whom he respected too much to let slide.
He glanced back at the park where Prae's figure stood ominously alone, and abandoned. He would have to let Prae stand up for himself...because he knew that if he even attempted to talk to this woman he'd snap and try to kill her. He was too angry, too constricted inside to deal with anyone right now. As he turned to leave he slammed his fist into an unfinished wall, it barely shook, but it was a complete mess where his hand had made impact. He pulled his hand out of the small crater he'd made in the wall, his knuckles bled, the green irridescent blood of his people flowing from his new, self inflicted wounds. He turned around, noticing some of the workers had been snapped out of their mellow state and were now looking at him, confused and scared of the large imposing figure causing harm to their precious building, and to him it seemed as if they could see the anger rolling off of him.
He snarled at the people, who flinched in fear of him, and he turned and with a strong jump left the area before anyone could apprehend him to make him pay for the damage caused. He wasn't sure of himself right now, he was angry, and it's common companion, confusion was close behind. He desperately needed to find a place to seclude himself.
His jump landed him near the park, and he walked through it the rest of the way, and as he passed his friend Prae he glanced in his direction, though his face was covered with a mask, he knew Prae could tell his mood and other subtle things just from a glance. He gave a nod to hint to his friend that he should talk to the woman before she decided to go polish some more stupid stones, though he didn't know why his friend wanted to talk to the woman in the first place.
As he walked, leaving the woman, her companions, and his own friend behind, he looked at his bleeding hand and clenched an angry fist, 'What's wrong with me?'
Prae had dealt with many things in life, and, in the last ten years he had traveled the galaxy, learned to let go of things that would otherwise spark blood lust from the average seasoned male Sangheili. Male Sangheili who, to no exaggeration, had the strength and battle prowess of three Wookies. There were things that still made him angry however, such as plain disrespect from one he respected. As Supreme Warlord this would have been a direct challenge to him, and it obviously ticked off Cetanu, because not soon after she had done that the large alien was stalking from the building Tysyacha had gone, with a bloody hand and a musk that spoke volumes with his body language. Despite this though Prae wasn't going to on a killing spree for it, but if she did blatantly ignore him again he wasn't going to let it slide so easily.
He uncrossed his arms and walked over to the building to which the Jedi had gone to. It was an ugly thing in Prae's eyes, having grown to only love Sangheili architecture, but it may have been unpleasant purely because it was still in construction. Apparently something special was going on, because when he arrived there was some commotion around the Jedi and, from what Prae's experience told him, was a Mandolorian. She was standing with the Mando, who's neck she had placed the necklace. So, he waited again, this time at the entrance to catch her when she turned to leave.
Tysyacha was startled at the entrance to the Hearth Home of the Kiffar by a patient and yet angry-looking sentient being. Sanghelli, male, the Force told her, and as she gazed into his eyes, hot shame flooded her body. She had ignored him and his inquisitive comrade, blatantly turning aside all recognition of their existence as she had exited the Ebon Hawk. "Sir," she began, her throat parched as the sands of Tatooine, "I--please, forgive me, I did not notice you, I was...distracted..." No good.
Such words sounded sincere, as they truly were, but as if they were coming from a two-year-old. This proud Warlord had the stature and strength of multiple Wookiees radiating from his form, and here she was stammering like a child? This would not do.
Knowing that a Mandalorian, let alone a Sanghelli, would conscript her to true hard labor for such a breach of common decency and respect for rank, Tysyacha did the only thing that her guilty conscience would permit her: She disarmed completely.
Clatter, clatter! went her silver lightsabers to the ground. She stripped off her Circlet of Saresh and all other accoutrements she used to augment her strength and power. Kneeling in only her civilian's tunic--not even the Jedi Robes that she wore over it--she slid her knees out from under her so she lay prostrate to the ground.
Slowly, slowly, she rolled over on her back and closed her eyes, relaxing. For the final step of her more-than-symbolic gesture, she tilted her head back at an angle.
Tysyacha's neck lay exposed. The apprentice of Darth Traya, the Jedi Exile, General of the Mandalorian Wars under Darth Revan, was offering the Sanghelli herself as a kill.
Canderous stared in disbelief. Er..... Mind filling me in on this plan of action Tysy? He looked at the Sanghelli, alarmed at this strange turn of events. Even he, though he was not a force sensitive, could feel the power rippling off of the Sanghelli.
And he really didn't care. I'm the Mandalore, the leader of the most powerful race of warriors in the galaxy. I don't fear you, and I don't fear what you can do to me. Why would he, after all? He was already dying... Canderous raised his rifle and set its sights squarely on the sentient - oddly, he felt as though his arms had lost their ache just a little bit. The pendant was helping him.
"You touch her, you die. Your choice." He stared at the Sanghelli.
Praeceptor Sicarius stood at the height of ten feet when standing at full height, which, in proportion with his body, made him look like a titan compared to the small and disarmed form of Tysyacha laying before him. His massive golden battle armor shimmered dully in the light as he knelt in front of her, revealing the wear and scars of hundreds of battles. He ignored the threat of the Mandolorian who had his sights on him, and moved his face inches from Tysyacha's. Under normal circumstances, a Sangheili who committed an act of this stature would either be forced back down a few ranks and regain their honor, or be pardoned for their dishonorable act and all forgotten. He knew what he would do. This was one of the few humans he actually respected, and one of the only ones who truly honored at least part of his culture.
"Tysyacha Dvyx, you are pardoned," Prae rumbled, his tone gruff but clear. Then he stood up, offered his hand, and said "So rise. The great may fall, but the greatest rise again."
Cetanu crouched precariously on the edge of a building-top, stock still, like a gargoyle perfectly perched on the roof of a monastery. He breathed deeply and let his senses cool, he needed to get himself straightened out before he went back down among other sentients. He, personally, was confused with his actions lately, he couldn't understand the source of his growing anger. It seemed that his anger just kept getting worse, and had gone from mere annoyance of other people, to near absolute hate. He had been growing this way more and more so since his early departure from his clan.
He had despised that woman, nearly driven to the point of killing her, and yet, over what? Why? Why was he so easily provoked nowadays? What was wrong with him, what was happening to him? He didn't understand.
Cetanu stood up on the tall building, high above most other buildings as he'd tried his best to get to the tallest building he could find. He breathed in deeply, then let out the loudest roar he could, which was amazingly loud. It echoed through the cavernous buildings below, carrying far, and heard by many, in it could be heard sorrow, and confusion.
Cetanu watched the people on the ground below, he pondered them, and himself. Why was he so attracted to violence? His species were hunters, but they were more than peaceful when they needed to be. What was his exception, why did he crave it, like drugs, why? Why was the hunt so much like a fix for him? What made him this way?
He stood, it seemed like a second, but it was much longer, nearly half an hour had passed. He just needed to let go, he told himself. He scanned the ground below one more time, and then...jumped.
He was going hunting!
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