Measured steps carried the Starosta of the Dajorran Marshals past the help desk of Fort Blindshot’s premiere medical facility. His presence earned him the occasional nod of recognition from a passerby who recognized him. He was still adjusting to the boost in popularity his recent accomplishments had yielded. Although it did feel good on some level to have the respect of his peers, something about it made him uneasy. He was just one of countless people who strived to make the system safer for everyone and to help its citizens. So many people had bled and even died in service of this higher ethic, yet they didn’t and likely never would reap the same rewards that he had in his brief time in service to the system and to his clan. Where was the fairness in that?
What fairness was there to find in the actions of one of his own – someone whom he thought was one of his own, at least – destroying so many lives and leaving the victims to pick up the pieces? Bril knew that there was nothing fair about that.
Both his brief trek and his rumination on how things had unfolded that day ceased when he arrived at the room of the one DDF soldier who had survived the pitiless attack. After its doors slid open with a soft hiss, he knocked on the frame to announce his presence and stepped inside.
<@244244163002892288>
Partially reclined in the elevated medical bed rested a figure still partially plastered in the trappings of ongoing treatment: bacta patches molded to various spots on her body, an extensive set of wires sprouting from a device hooked to her chest, an intravenous main line that connected to cannisters of clear liquid. In a threadbare medical gown and DDF:MC-issue sweater, the lights sterile white in her room turned low but the window shades open to the base outside, she looked small and frail.
None of that was in the bright green gaze that snapped to his own eyes as he knocked, knuckles whitening below a needle as her grip immediately tightened on the sheet, the vidscreen remote in her other hand clutched subtly like a weapon. Across from her, coverage of the eruption played with ongoing cleanup efforts and death tolls scrolling.
Sergeant Anquis, First Class, Medical Corps DO, stared at him like an enemy as she took in his dress and stature. She watched him seconds more before thumbing to mute the holobroadcast.
“Who are you?”
Bril looked at the machines, the wires and bacta pouches and IV drips, with an unsettled expression. Hints of damaged tissue peeked out from the edges of sterile bandages covering the Sergeant’s body. Scorched flesh mirrored scorched earth; both were indelible marks of that day, not just of the pain inflicted but of the resilience of Selen and its people. In his silence, Bril considered offering to expedite the soldier’s healing process using his connection to the Living Force, to not just assuage the pain she undoubtedly felt but to hopefully remind her that it could be used for good, too. But he decided against it. It wasn’t his place to undercut the fine healthcare professionals of Fort Blindshot, and he figured that Sergeant Anquis could use a break from his kind using the Force freely and with little discretion.
The suspension of the broadcast made the silence all the more palpable. There was no buffer, now. Just them. He could avoid what he came here to do no longer. A deep breath steadied him.
“I’m Bril Teg Arga. Starosta of the Dajorran Marshals,” he began, his tone severe and trepidatious. “I fought alongside you and several others during the initial attacks. I was the uh, squad leader that day. How are you feeling?”
Something flickered in the Selenian’s severe expression, pulling at the lines of her face born to her people and at the bandages. She straightened up in bed, the monitors betraying an uptick in heart rate while her jaw locked and eyes went forward to the wall, not looking at him directly, in a composed and cool façade.
“Recovering, Sir,” she replied crisply.
Bril cringed at the sight of the woman suddenly assuming such a rigid posture. Noting how she directed her gaze straight ahead, Bril took a step to his right to place himself back into her line of sight. He tried to hold her gaze.
“Please, none of that,” he said, waving his hand. “I’m not here as your C.O, I’m here as a friend.
"I’ve read the incident reports of everyone there that day. What happened to you and to Lieutenant Fane, to the joe doe who their life that day, was unforgivable. And I’m going to hold him accountable for his actions.”
Anquis didn’t seem any more relaxed at indication of a superior officer – superior something – making overtures of casual friendship. She did, however, seem to flag in decorum at mention of a him.
“You caught him?” she snapped suddenly, leaning forward, gaze intense. The monitors jumped, and her knuckles whitened. The expression on her face wasn’t a smile, but it bared teeth.
He shook his head. “Not yet, but we have a credible source on his location. Myself and a few others are going to be heading out to see if the intel is good. If so, you can expect him to be in custody before the day is over.”
Anquis’ expression told all, even suppressed as it was behind a savagely struggling military apathy, a spillage of a snarl and wetness in her eyes. For a green so bright, oversaturated in hue as the Selenians tended to be, her gaze was black with murder.
“Custody– he–” her jaw clicked, it locked so hard on the words. She had to work it to speak again. “Sir. Permission to join the capture team, Sir.”
Bril blinked, taking a moment to process Anquis’ request. The conviction in her voice made it clear that she was deathly serious, and he admired her determination to see the man who had put her in this hospital brought to justice, even if he could tell that her idea of justice was likely far more brutal – and fatal – than his own.
“You’re in no condition to go in the field, Sergeant,” replied Bril, his voice stern but sympathetic. “Especially to hunt a dangerous Force adept.”
Although he knew that if he were in her shoes, the last thing he’d want was to be told that he couldn’t help, his ability to empathize with her convictions didn’t do much to dissuade him from denying her request.
“I’m responsible for every member of my team, and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go out there when you’re not at your best.”
Not to mention that it’d potentially endanger the rest of the team, as well.
“I’m fine, Sir,” the emphasis on the word seemed to be the only hint of her wishing to rip into a superior officer. “You can read my chart. This mess is for scar prevention and an overabundance of caution about my heart. I don’t care about scars. That monster murdered a brother in arms, nearly murdered our patient, I can’t just sit by–”
Beepbeepbeepbeep went the monitor.
She worked her jaw again, looking him up and down, lingering on his hands and waist.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“If by ‘them’ you mean a Force adept then yes, I am. Why do you ask?”
They had every reason to worry about her heart. Anquis had been struck by a Sith’s lightning; that was no ordinary shock, that was for sure. The intricacies of how Force-related attacks affected the body were lost on him. Siva would know. Maybe he’d ask her about it when this was over.
She looked like she’d like to run from the room or throw the remote again. Instead she lifted her chin just like her straight officer’s spine.
“Then what if you,” she grimaced, gestured, “could fix me. There are some here. The Quaestrix…Then I won’t be a liability, Sir.”
Bril frowned upon seeing Anquis’ reaction. It wasn’t so different than the way Minnow reacted to any use of his gifts when their relationship was still nascent. He couldn’t blame the Sergeant for how she felt, but he hoped that she’d grow to see him differently for her sake.
“Healing isn’t my strong suit anymore,” he admitted, “but I should be able to heal what remains of your injuries with little issue. If you’re really okay with that.”
“Yes, Sir,” barked Anquis. She shifted in the bed, yanking wires along with her and pushing off sheets while swinging herself to the edge. One whole leg was covered in bacta patches, wrapped around to the bottom of her foot. Her expression was that of a brave soldier staring down a firing line. “Please, Sir. I need to do this.”
Without the blankets, he could see she’d had her dogtags clutched in her seemingly empty hand all along; likely not permitted to wear them in case of more scans.
Bril stared long and hard at Anquis. Anyone willing to let a Force user lay hands on them despite being so uncomfortable in their presence clearly meant what they said. And he couldn’t deny her of the opportunity to see her assailant brought to justice.
“Alright, Sergeant. You’re on the team,” conceded Bril, “But I’m going to get someone else to come and tend to your wounds. A colleague. He’ll be able to do more for you than I can.
"If you’ll excuse me.”
Bril nodded once before stepping out of the room. A quick message to Avery let the man know he was needed and in what room. After that, he stepped further down the hall where Evelyn was waiting.
“She refuses to take no for an answer, so she’s on the team.”
<@216702440140046336>
Evelyn was sitting on a bench and on her datapad. She was checking the final damages and numbers of deaths. Part of her was very relieved that the majority of the deaths was natural causes from the volcano. But… there was still ‘friendly fire’ deaths. Under the Song. Her hands clenched the datapad so tight that her knuckles were turning white.
She let out an exhale as she slowly relaxed her muscles. Her head turned towards the sound of heard heavy footsteps.
“Hm.” Evelyn wasn’t surprised. Arcona military folks were known to be tough and sometimes… more stubborn than their own good.
“Very well.” She still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for Anquis and even herself, go to after a Force User that liked to use Mind Trick. Her jaw tightened as she got up from the bench.
“What is the next step, Dr. Arga?”
Since the so-called gods made their presence known again, Avery utilized his efforts in the best way he knew how. Patients from the volcanic eruption and Caxxie attacks poured into the military installation. Their medical facilities were equipped with everything he needed to treat any and everyone who arrived. Of course, there were some beyond saving and while it weighed on him, he continued forward. There were those alive who still needed him.
After receiving the message from Bril, the doctor was on the way. When he arrived at the destination he noted two familiar faces.
“Bril,” he said to the Zabrak with an amicable nod. Since Diy’s stern warning about calling Evelyn anything other than her name, he decided to tailor the response to the Shaevalian. “Ms. Wyvern.”
“Is everything okay?” He asked, his hazel eyes shifting between the tense figures.
“We get Sergeant Anquis healed up as much as possible and then meet in one of Blindshot’s ready rooms for a briefing,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest. “You haven’t gotten a chance to fly Ibaka yet, Captain Wyvern. You up for the task?”
Sensing Avery’s presence long before he appeared in the hallway, Bril turned in the direction from whence he came and waited expectantly. It may have seemed like an odd gesture at first, but Avery’s appearance a few moments later made it clear that he had sensed the doctor in the Force.
“Good to see you, Avery. We have a patient here, a Sergeant First Class Anquis, of the Galeres Field Medical Corps. She took some serious injuries in the early stages of Operation Brimstone when the caxqettes attacked. I’m in the process of assembling a team to capture the individual responsible, and I think you’d be a great addition due to your medical expertise.”
<@315438760428961793>
Evelyn had never heard of a ship named Ibaka so she assumed it was the name of one of them.
“Rest assured, I never had difficulties when flying models I am experienced in or not.” It was one of gifts that considers pilots like Matcha, Eevie, Minnie, and herself, along with a few others, to be called ACE pilots.
She did not expect to hear a familiar voice this soon. Her eyes met with Avery’s but there was no anger or emotions behind hers. Just indifferent.
“Mr. Avery,” she did not wish to disrespect him. She remained quiet as Bril wished for Avery to join the mission, wondering if the man can even take orders.
Avery acknowledged Evelyn’s response with another nod and a small smile. His attention focused on the Zabrak’s brief for the mission.
He was somewhat familiar with the Sergeant’s wounds. In all honesty, he thought they were the result of a Caxxqette attack. To hear this was an individual’s purposed attack made his blood hot.
There was a brief pause as his brows furrowed, darkening his hazel eyes. “I’m in. I have to ask; do we know who we’re looking for?” Maybe the details would be revealed before their mission but the doctor was curious.
<@1056685516441006091>
“I’m glad to hear it,” replied Bril. In truth, he had little doubt that Evelyn could handle herself behind the controls of his customized Tie Reaper. She certainly would have more success at showing off its impressive capabilities than he could. With only enough flight lessons from Minnie to keep him from somehow crashing in the vast emptiness of space, Bril was perfectly content to let the ship’s onboard droid brain do most of the heavy lifting for him.
“Rrogon Skar is our target,” said Bril to Avery, “Not only is he an Arconan, but he was also a member of the Marshals before his actions that day. Makes capturing him my responsibility …”
He briefly glanced to the door of Sergeant Anquis’ room with a solemn look. “… and the weight of his actions mine to bear.”
<@315438760428961793>
Avery’s gaze darkened when he heard the familiar name. “I am aware of who he is. Consider your goal mine.”
The doctor thought the Kaleesh was unhinged and should have been kept locked away. Now he was roaming the galaxy with innocent blood on his hands and it made Avery burn with fury.
“How soon will we be leaving?”
Bril noticed the sudden change in Avery’s expression and the accompanying feeling of righteous fury that drifted from his mind through the boundary of his Force awareness. That could only mean that the two of them had history. It wasn’t his place to pry for specifics, but he knew he’d need to address it with both him and Anquis at some point. But first, they needed to get her looked at.
“Follow me,” he said while gesturing for both Avery and Evelyn to follow him into Sergeant Anquis’ room. “I need you to do whatever you can to ensure that Sergeant Anquis’ injuries won’t hamper her. My droid will also be carrying large bacta tanks should you need to treat her wounds at any point during our mission.”
<@216702440140046336> <@244244163002892288>
Evelyn noticed Avery’s demeanor had changed. She was used to people disliking her when they find out that she’s a bit uptight. She haven’t had the time yet to look more into the Kaleesh and wished she had. Logically, she knew she couldn’t find the time but it still affected her.
She stayed quiet, listening and observing.
<@244244163002892288> <@315438760428961793>
Avery considered Bril’s words and found himself shaking his head. “If that’s what’s required, she is not fit to go on the mission. Her body needs a chance to fully recover and regain its strength.”
Even if she was making a speedy recovery, there was no telling what kind of compromises would greet her along the way. He supposed he would just have to see.
The doctor followed the pair into the room, giving leave for Evelyn and Bril to go first. He stood at attention, hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the sergeant.
“Sergeant Anquis, I’m Dr. Avery Watson. I will be assessing your injuries because it has been brought to my attention that you will be joining us on a mission. It is my opinion that you can better serve by ensuring that your body is healed first.”
Brilliant green eyes fierce as any flame stared at the doctor, flicking back to Bril and then pausing on Evelyn with a blanched look of recognition.
“You–” the Sergeant began, then clamped her jaw shut. She’d been tense at the edge of the bed when they all entered, looking expectant and determined as steel, like a woman ready to face execution and not alleged healing with the Force. Being presented with Avery had been a visible, if very small and muted, double take and garnered a glare. Now that anger seemed restrained again behind her soldier’s demeanor.
“Permission to speak freely, Sir?” she asked Bril crisply, still looking at Avery.
<@1056685516441006091> <@216702440140046336>
He tilted his head and looked from Anquis to Avery, then back to Anquis.
“Permission granted, Sergeant.”
“Are you my superior officer or my assigned physician, Doctor Watson?” the Selenian asked flat and crisp. <@315438760428961793>
Avery blinked and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”
“Then your opinion can eat it,” snapped the woman as cooly as she was speaking otherwise. “I’m a DO. I know I’m not one hundred percent. But the Captain agreed to make it happen, so I’m going out there.” Her gaze snapped back to Evelyn. “You saw him. You saw what he did. He murdered my pilot. Fane had family. My patient was a civilian. We were an evac. I don’t care about scar tissue. I’m going out there.”
“This is how we make it happen,” he interjected, “To get you as close to one hundred percent as possible. I’d heal you myself but my connection to that part of the Force isn’t as strong as it used to be, and I need to conserve my energy for the mission itself.
"You may not care, and you may be good enough to be released, but I don’t need to tell you what we’re about to be up against. Please, let the Doctor do his job.”
“If roles were reversed for a moment,” Evelyn added, meeting with Anquis hues.
“Would you want your soldier to be their best and ready to cover your back to take down the Kaleesh or would you want them to be injured as you are and be more of a risk to us all? He killed Pilot Fane. He injured you and your patient. We will get him, but we want you at your best.” She paused for a moment before continuing.
“You can continue to reject Dr. Avery, I respect that. I was- am the same,” Evelyn corrected herself. How many times had Aketa argued with Evelyn how stubborn she was about getting help or healed? Too many times and she regretted it all.
“I imagine they-” She glanced to Bril and Avery, “will continue the dance to want to get you fixed up and the longer it will take for us to get the Kaleesh. We had fought with injured soldiers or injured ourselves and we know, that the best results are, when we are mostly healed and ready to go.”
Anquis’ jaw was tight. “I have no issue with the doctor personally,” she recited, “and he can do whatever he has to do, Sir, Ma'am.” Her gaze went back to Avery.“But whatever you do I’m joining you then.”
“I’ve already given you the okay on that regard,” explained Bril with a sympathetic tone of voice, “No one is going to stop you from taking part.”
Bril held Anquis’ gaze for a moment, hoping that his sincerity came across clearly. After that, he took a step back and nodded to Avery. “Doctor.”
<@315438760428961793>
Avery met the Sergeant’s gaze and nodded. “My no only plea is that if you at any moment feel like your condition worsens, I strongly recommend retreating. There are some very capable people who will be entrusted to see this mission through to the end.”
“I won’t be stupid.” Anquis held his gaze, then all others in turn. She gripped her tags. “That won’t get justice. By your leave.”
Dr. Watson spent the next few minutes treating Sergeant Anquis' wounds. As much as she had insisted that her wounds were mostly healed, and she was right, Avery nonetheless used his expertise to get her as close to full working order as possible in the time allotted. By the time he was finished, the rest of the team had gathered within the primary hangar of Fort Blindshot.
<@315438760428961793> <@467973085006659594> <@301514304845381632> <@244244163002892288> <@216702440140046336>
Bril stood before his shuttle with a formal posture, arms held closely to the sides of his armor. He was facing none other than their Quaestor and his found-sister, Sivall Zoria, who looked over all of them with a solemn expression.
“We’re ready to depart,” he announced, “Do you need anything from us before we go?”
<@264959101384130560>
The surface of the tarmac nearly buckled under the impact of the Zabraki Sith landing from his jump from his flying beast. The aiwha knew where to go to roost at Blindshot until his return. He had commed ahead of his arrival to ensure space and feed would be available.
Rage and fury were tangible as they radiated off of the Juggernaut. He stood from his three-point landing and began a purposeful stride toward the main hangar where he was certain to find Bril.
Skar had gone rogue before. It had been before his time in Arcona, though. But the stories persisted. He knew enough that this needed to be stamped out sooner rather than later. Rrogon Skar Agrona, if allowed to spiral out of control, could- no, would be a catastrophic force of nature.
However, underneath all of Karran’s rage at Skar’s actions, there was a lining of grief. He’d respected the Kaleesh. Both from a distance, objectively, as a warrior, and more personally as a rival and fellow Sith. He knew more people would have more right to deal with him. But he would do his part to bring the rogue Arconan in. One way or another.
The Sith stood, arms crossed, with the gathered team, listening patiently. All over his body, rage-fueled microtwitches of his muscle made him feel restless. An itch that couldn’t be scratched. Even given time before the mission, his fury had not abated.
His nostrils flares with each long, slow breath. Each exhale rasped in his throat like a breathy growl. His teeth nearly threatened to crack under the pressure of his clenched jaw. The muscles around his eyes were tense, as if they refused to blink, save for the subconscious, uncontrollable action. But he would wait, patiently, for orders.
The Starosta was the first to acknowledge Karran’s arrival, having sensed his presence long before he made his dramatic entrance.
“Glad you could join us, brother,” he said.
The Sith would surely notice the armor his younger counterpart wore – an ancient piece that served as a window into the minds of Iridonian and Peridean forgemasters of the distant past as much as it was meant to protect him. Faint whispers in Old Zabraki seemingly radiate through the Force from the armor itself, touching the mind of the only other zabrak present.
Bril, meanwhile, made a mental note of the rage brewing within the man. It strengthened him, readying his body and mind for the impending conflict with Rrogon. This would be his first mission with Karran and, while he had confidence in the man’s abilities, he couldn’t help but feel somewhat concerned about his mental state.
“Take care to remain lucid, okay friend?”
This was it, right? A big speech to send off her people before the important battle— but as she stared into Bril’s crystal blues, noting the conflict and need for justice, for vengeance, swimming in their depths, she felt her stomach turn.
If no one had been there for her after Tekpantli, if she hadn’t managed to make allies in high places— people who incidentally had bleeding hearts for her past plights —would this have been what she would have been up against? Would it have been her in Skar’s place, hunted by her own people? She swallowed, looking away as Bril addressed Karran to look over the people amassed to hunt down one of their own.
It was times like this she regretted answering Ood’s call, accepting his offer. She wasn’t a leader, she didn’t have it in her like Ruka or Qyreia did. She didn’t have it in her like Bril did. Justice was more gray to her, had more clauses and shortfalls… she was much more gray than this position called for. It was one thing Connor had always pointed out as her greatest shortfall. She was too on the fence between the Light and the Dark.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then spoke with the most amount of calm and leadership-ness she could manage with her soft tone.
“You are all aware why you are here. Skar Agrona has commited one of the most unforgivable crimes known to Arcona— betrayal.”
The words tasted of hypocrisy as soon as they left her mouth, but she continued anyways.
“You are to work with your fellow Arconans to find Skar and bring him back to Estle for trial. He is to be brought back alive and whole, and well enough to be judged by his peers in court.”
The Chiss Quaestrix fiddled with her gloved fingers, hoping the textile feedback from the technology in the glove would ground her. Her expression was remorseful, sad, and hid a myriad of emotions in her sanguine gaze.
———
“I-I know emotions are high, I know its a hard ask. I know you want revenge and justice for the fallen and injured. But we are not judge nor jury, no matter how much we want to be.”
“Be safe, don’t be like me and injure yourself to fulfill a mission. Each one if you is irreplacable to me, and I would like to see you all back home no worse for wear than when you left it. Skar is a formidable foe. Do not underestimate him. Do not get cocky.”
Another deep breath and a bow of her head.
“You are dismissed. I am available for any questions and the Medical Corps is at your disposal. Arcona Invicta.”
“I am willing to bring Skar in alive. But he will not be taken without a fight. If he feels cornered, he will fight to the death. If it comes down to him or us, which would you rather come back alive?”
Karran spoke without moving. No gestures. All that changed was a slight lift of his chin when he addressed his superior.
“I have crossed blades with Rrogon several times. He will not fight fair or clean, and I doubt he will hesitate to strike any of us down.”
It was a valid question, one which Bril wanted to know the answer to, himself.
Sivall hesitated for a second at Karran’s question, wringing her hands even more. It was a valid question and she could feel Bril’s eyes on her. The Chiss medic drew her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment as she thought, then took in a deep breath.
“If the worst comes to the worst, make sure you all get home safe. I would very much prefer if it didn’t have to come to that but I know things can go south very quickly.”
She stopped for a moment, then added quietly, her eyes casting downwards. She hated this hated this hated this hated this–
“If he gives you no other choice then do what you must. We wont lose anyone else. We’ve lost enough people.”
“Especially since he does not count as one of us anymore.” Karran spoke under his breath in Zabraki. “Kir'tun.” Oathbreaker. Traitor. Clan-forsaken.
Likely the only one that could hear him and understand him was Bril. He did not mind it. The young man deserved to know Karran’s thoughts. And there were few he trusted to know them.
“Cybernetics can be replaced with little issue. And Skar is more machine than man by now.”
He spoke quietly again. Before speaking up to be heard by all.
“Understood, Quaestor. It will be done to the best of my abilities.”
Ellisyn Kendis had arrived at the party right when she should, but like a shadow, she stayed silent as the group slowly gathered. First, it was Siv, then Karran, and then everyone else who had seemed to have already met up somewhere else. Karran’s arrival stood out in her mind thanks to its unnecessary but greatly appreciated flashiness. The Zabrak earned a slight smirk from underneath Ellisyn’s helmet.
Next was Siv’s speech on Skar and the mission ahead of them. The Kendis was not present for Skar’s initial crimes but didn’t hesitate to answer the call to capture him. Her daughters lived on this planet, and she would do all she could to ensure that the big sphere drifting through space was safe for both them and the rest of Selen’s citizens.
Elly shook her head at the very idea of killing Skar. Every individual there was capable of defending themselves, she surmised. And as long as they stuck together, she was certain they’d be able to capture Skar without needing to resort to lethal force.
“We won’t lose anyone else today,” Elly promised.
Bril turned to address the rest of the group. “Does anyone else have any questions or comments before we head out? Now would be the time.”
<@244244163002892288> <@264959101384130560> <@315438760428961793> <@216702440140046336> <@467973085006659594>
Once the last of preparations had been made, the group boarded Bril’s Tie Reaper Attack Lander, dubbed Ibaka. Evelyn took the controls and went through a series of pre-flight checks to ensure that everything was in working order prior to taking off.
With Ibaka,s speed, the flight was quick, taking them to a set of coordinates corresponding to Skar’s last known location. A sprawling forest stretched out before them. It was too dense for Betty, the team’s Trexler 906 Armored Marauder, to traverse without significant difficulty.
“Looks like we’ll be going it on foot,” Bril said to Evelyn while gazing out the ship’s viewport, “Keep the engines hot in case we need fast exfil or support from the air. Ellisyn will stay with you to provide support should you need it. Sergeant Anquis, Dr. Watson, and Karran, with me.”
The Starosta didn’t say another word and moved toward the rear of the ship, pressing the button to lower its cargo ramp. Upon stepping out into the wilderness, he took a deep breath of fresh air and opened his senses to his surroundings.
<@244244163002892288> <@315438760428961793> <@216702440140046336> <@467973085006659594>
Karran checked his weapons as he disembarked. The familiar construction of the two sabers felt right in his grip. Black, pebbled leather wrapped tightly around bone. A soft resonance from the twin dormant Krayt Pearl crystals within thrummed in his palms. He inhaled slowly, deeply. He held that breath, letting the burn slowly build in his lungs before releasing it in the same controlled measure.
His good eye scanned over the environment.
“What do you feel, Ankari.” Chief. Leader. The truest sign of deference and respect.
Nearby a small floating droid peered from behind a large tree its pitch black exterior hiding it well in the shadow of the tree. Small whizzing and clicks could be heard coming from the droid as the leans of its camera moved back and forth adjusting itself on the fly to observe the group as they dismounted and got ready to move. Oh how little they new of what awaited them inside the gnarled and twisted roots of forest.
Deep within many miles away in a abandoned monorail station last minute preparations were underway. Two large and armored trandosians whent around setting and rechecking traps and seeing to the contingent of Magna guard droids that stood ready to fight at there new owners commands.
The mastermind behind this hideout sat on a crate his burning crimson eyes looked down at the data pad in his armored hand. The data feed showed what the droid saw in real time. The Kaleesh mused on the assortment of foes that had come for him seeking vengeance and justice for a slight none of them really understood.
Well some of them did the Sith mused as the droid focused in on Bril for a few moments before the command was inputted for it to fall back further but to keep a eye on the guests. The Juggernaut wanted to know where they were at all times, just in case they made swifter progress then expected. Setting down the data pad a low sigh escaped the Kaleesh deep down he was tried of this. The running, the fighting, the lack of understanding.
But a numb cold began to replace the melancholy and then anger replaced that. As much as he was tired of all of this he would do what needed to be done. As he always did. Looking up one last time Skars eyes fell on the Female Kaleesh who stood nearby her amour and weapons already equipped and ready a contemplative look in her eyes as the twos gaze meet. This was one of the handful of people Rrogon could truly say he loved left in the Galaxy. He was glad she was here.
Reaching down to the ground the Kaleesh picked up the helmet to the newly forged beskar amour he had commissioned before he was imprisoned and slid it over his face letting the suits environmental systems his shut as it sealed itself.
A soft voice spoke into his ears as the suit came fully online. “Power online, amour systems online, A.I Nox awaiting your command. ”
It was time this chase ended , and now the games will begin.