It might have only been a couple of years, yet it felt like it had been a couple of decades since he was last in the Caelus System. For a start, there had been not one, but two Supreme Chancellors succeeding him. On top of this, the Taldryan Republic had been in conflict after conflict and was on the verge of war. Again.
Then there was Zxyl. Appius had expected him to still be Regent. When he found out he wasn’t, he discovered that Zxyl was not only no longer a part of Taldryan, but no longer a Scion either.
What the hell had happened?
So, he did the one thing he always did; he winged it. He left a signal to be picked up, a frequency only know between the two of them leading to one place.
Home.
Mandalore.
Zxyl was far from the same as he once was. Since the time Appius had disappeared to now, the Mandalorian former Regent had spearheaded several new initiatives within the fabled Council office, ushering in new commodities and items members of the Brotherhood could buy. The Dathommirian had been affected by a trip to Dathomir in which Tahiri Tarentae di Plagia had nearly killed him, leading his soul to be bound with the planet’s magical ichor. He had attained the title of Master Naur'alor, forging his name further as a master and paragon of all things Mandalorian.
And most importantly of all, he had left Taldryan. After years of spearheading the Traditionalists from the shadows while in a non-partisan Council role, he took to the forefront for a time before realizing that no real change was coming for the “Taldryan Republic”. It was destined to fail, just as he had predicted all those years ago when then Appius Wight first transitioned the Caelus System and former First Clan to its new parliamentary system of governance.
Since leaving Clan Taldryan for Vizsla, the most predominant home for Mandalorians within the Brotherhood, he’d never relented on a promise he had made to Ankira. He would find Appius. He would bring him home. And then, he’d likely beat the shit out of him for having disappeared in the first place. For abandoning him. His closest ally and friend, no matter how much Zxyl despised his nonchalant attitude to the Mandalorian culture he claimed so deeply to represent.
It came as a surprise, then, when their heavily coded and encrypted personal communication channel came alive. General Bes'uliik had been doing what he normally did during these times - working on new equipment and gear to outfit the Brotherhood’s membership, while continuing work on a myrid of projects under his successor, Thran Ocassus Palpatine. He paused, staring at the communication hovering on his heads up display.
“H.A.L…. verify,” he ordered his custom beskar'gam’s integrated artificial intelligence system, Helpful Artificial Lackey. The computer program complied, running a sweep of tests and accuracies on the message to make sure it was real.
“Confirmed, General. This is your comrade,” came the stout reply several moments later. H.A.L. knew instantly that the transmission was real, having scanned it when it first was received, but did an extensive sweep of previous communications between the two Mandalorians to quadruple verify its legitimacy. It was real.
“Very well… We will make our way to the Great Forge. Tell Triple Zero to join us. The planet’s surface is still scarred, and I have no idea what condition the Taldrya’s mind is in.
With that, the Mandalorian General and Naur'alor did exactly what he said. He made his way to the barren planet, the homeland of his adoptive people, to meet with the man he had spent years hunting and searching for. Whether Appius remained an ally was yet to be seen, but the Dathomirian had hope. Something rare with him these days given the folly of the Traditionalists in eliciting change in the Taldryan Republic. Taldryan hadn’t been his home for nearly five years, and it sure wasn’t now that he had forsaken his status as a Scion.
When the fire goes out, the ashes remain.
Appius remembered what his father had once said. That saying was particularly important to him. Like the phoenix of Clan Klars, ther rose through the ashes reborn, stronger than ever.
That was supposed to be the idea. Somehow, he doubted that when he looked at the amalgamation of a Human being that he had become. He was almost mire machine than mine at this point. As he gazed upon the ruins of Clan Klars once more, his former home reduced to rubble, he had to wonder what his fellow clansman would have thought of him. Would they have been oroud of the survivor, or disgusted at the shell of his former self? Ankira seemed to be the latter. The Republic he had made had changed so much…
If he could only ask.
Appius heard the whirring of a ship above him heading in the direction of the Great Forge. Yep. That had to be him. Nerves gripped his heart, but when had that ever stopped him before? He activated his jetpack and followed suit.
Zxyl Bes'uliik, The Naur'alor, Breaker of Bones, and Foundling turned Mandalorian General was the first to arrive at the Great Forge of Mandalore underneath the glassed upper levels of Sundari City, its former capitol. At this point nothing more than a ruined monument to the Mandalorian Armorers - like those of Clan Bes'uliik - whose hammers rained down day or night as they worked with their precious beskar, and to the Mandalorian culture itself.
The former Regent of the Brotherhood was the first to arrive, it seemed, traveling to the planet via a private shuttle to hide his trip from prying eyes. Whenever Bes'uliik returned to Mandalorian space - whether the planet itself or his clan’s hidden world of Nau'ur, it was always under a low profile to keep from attracting unwanted attention.
“Triple-Zero, setup a safe distance away. Be ready if the party joining is us not who they are supposed to be. Target data uploaded.”
“Query: And what if they are not?” asked the dark grey droid, taking hold of its modified Verpine Sniper Rifle.
“Then you may eliminate the target - on my command”
The General waited outside the Great Forge, arms crossed as H.A.L. continuously scanned the area for any movement. The planet had become hostile, and even now he needed to keep his guard up.
The droid left without another word, but Zxyl could tell the custom HK-series Gladiator was not pleased.
The H.U.D told Appius everything he needed to know. Hostiles taking aim at him. It was still incredible to him how much technology could rival the Force now that he was unable to rely on that mystical power.
Hostiles were detected. Yet, he knew better. He knew Zxyl, or at least, he thought he did, and I he did know him like he thought, and Zxyl knew him like Appius thought he knew of him, and they both knew each other like they both thought they did, and like others thought they knew each other, and how they knew others, and he knew Zxyl like he thought he truly did…
Where was he going with this again? Oh, right. The forge. Zxyl will be being precautious. It was just how he was, how he’d always been. Still, Appius took careful, measured strides into the ancestral monument of their home. Even now, it brought chills to him.
Sure enough, there he was. His armor was different, but Zxyl was perhaps the best blacksmith in the known galaxy to Appius. The horns were a dead giveaway.
“Hello, there,” Appius raised a hand, his distorted voice echoing in the chamber. “Been a while, Zxyl.”
Question was, would Zxyl recognise him?
The General canted his head ever so slightly as Appius’ robotic, modulated voice filled the initial chamber immediately inside the Great Forge.
That’s new, he said to himself as he corrected the angle of his head and nodded. H.A.L. immediately cross referenced and analyzed the man’s stride, armor, voice, hell even the way the Human talked and confirmed what the Dathomirian already knew from that initial hello. No doubt about it. This… person, was none other than Appius Taldrya Wight, of Clan Klars.
Bes'uliik stared at the figure from behind his crimson shaded visor. He was sort of mad, if he was honest.
“Appius,” came the former Regent’s own twisted voice, modulated by his helmet and accompanied by a dark ethereal echo that followed his every word. Seems Zxyl wasn’t the only one that had gone through some big changes since they last saw each other those several years ago.
The Breaker of Bones remained cautious. While this was Appius, an ally second only to his other Mandalorian brother Idris Adenn, there was no telling what state the man was in mentally.
“I have been looking for you,” The Naur'alor stated matter-of-factly with the dark ethereal echo bouncing against the walls, uncrossing his arms. And letting them fall to his side. He remained in his current position.
Appius considered his longterm friend for a moment. They’d had their differences, of course they had. They butted heads more times than he could remember. In fact, he couldn’t remember when they wouldn’t argue or bicker about something. It was just something they liked to do. Appius missed it.
Yet, when he gazed at the tense expression in Zxyl, he looked like he was about ready to blast him down where he stood.
The former and first Taldryan Supreme Chancellor let out a long, exasperated, digitized groan. “I didn’t know what to expect when I finally felt ready to come back. I was hoping some people would be happy to see me, but it feels like everyone is either pissed off or hates me for it. Which one are you?”
“Neither, Appius” came Bes’uliik’s reply as he relaxed slightly. It seemed his Mandalorian brother had caught on to his stance.
“I am not angry, and I do not hate you. Quite the contrary. I do want to hit you… and slap that helmet clean off your head - don’t worry, I still might - but I am more disappointed than anything. You abandoned me. You abandoned Ankira. I want to know why and how you disappeared and never came back. And why now?”
Bes’uliik motioned for Appius to follow as he turned and made his way a bit deeper into the Great Forge, awaiting an explanation.
Appius followed, ensuring to give the former Regent a few feet of personal space and to give him some time to react if necessary.
“I never abandoned anyone,” there was a sharpness to his tone. “At least, not intentionally.”
His sigh echoed against the walls. All of a sudden, he found the architecture of their ancestors the most interesting thing in the galaxy.
“I suppose I should start from the beginning, right?”
“Yes, you should,” the former Regent replied sharply as they continued into the Great Forge in all its desolate glory. Once alive with the ring of a thousand hammers moulding the Mandalorians’ most precious resource into articles of war, it was no nothing more than a monument to their failure against the might of Sheev Palpatine’s equally failed Galactic Empire. As they came to one of the initial work areas, Zxyl made his way over to one of the benches, with Appius on one side - dusty tools scattered about - and motioned for his fellow Elder to place his weapons upon it wordlessly as he gathered up some of the strewn tooling.
The first exercise in trust since Appius’ return, but if Zxyl was going to listen to a story, he was going to work at the same time.
He cut his helmet’s external vocoder, opening his comm channel to HK-000.
“Any sign of external threats?” he queried the droid.
“Statement: No, Master.”
“Keep an eye out. There is plenty lurking in the ruins.”
“Query: So there is still an opportunity for me to shoot something?”
“Yes.”
“Sarcastic Statement: I hope they take forever.”
The Mandalorian General smirked, reactivating his helmet vocoder to respond to Appius as need be.
“So I was born on Mandalore in ten ABY. I was the son of a Jedi and a Mandalorian. You’ve already met my older brother. Apparently, I was an incredibly cute baby,” He waited to see if his joke landed.
The joke would have landed….
But it didn’t.
“I’m aware,” Zxyl responded, still waiting for Appius to get to what mattered and put his weapons on the bench. He finished gathering the necessary tools to work on whatever equipment Appius brandished on him.
“By now have you have usually removed your helmet. What is with rhat? And continue.”
Wow. Not even a sigh, or a groan? What had happened to Zxyl.
“I can’t take it off. Well, I can, but I quite like being able to breathe. My armor is basically one big walking life support system. If I take off my helmet, I’ll choke.”
Appius remained silent for a few moments as they descended further down.
“I was informed of a group of Mandalorians that needed help in Wild Space. I considered contacting Clan Vizsla, but then thought to myself that it might be better getting a Clan of Mandalorians into the Republic. Taldralorians. That’s what I was gonna call them. Turned out to be a trap set up by an Inquisitor. Does the name Anderson mean anything to you?”
Zxyl chuckled. Of course he knew the name… The current leader of Taldryan’s OSI. The Traditionalists had built dossiers on all Taldryan operatives that might be integral to ensuring their downfall, with their targets’ downfall as a necessity.
The Mandalorian General nodded.
“So now you walk the Way of the Mandalore, hmm? The ‘Taldalorians’ are a fools folly for a regular Mandalorian warrior, Appius. I am familiar with Anderson,” Zxyl paused momentarily, pushing his right side’s kama back and pulling from it the ancient Peridean lightsaber aptly named Peridea, a weathered and only slightly curved hilt of dark gunmetal grey loosely wrapped in a thin strip of red cloth, ancient Peridean runes etched into its surface plating adorned the topmost of the weapon.
“He’s a cut-throat member of the Brotherhood’s Inquisitorius… and fields one of the poorest lightsaber designs ever conceived. A Makashi adherent who fashioned his lightsaber from the design of Darth Tyranus… and made it worse if that was possible. A clear wannabe and uncalculating compared to the fallen Vodo Biask. I haven’t had a chance to take a proper look, but from the distance I saw it doesn’t even look as though the weapon’s emitter is properly centred with the rest of the casing. I’m not sure who constructed the weapon but I do know his design is flawed on nearly every level… compared to this.”
The Dathomirian pressed the activation trigger as he held the weapon away from them both, a smoking green blade that faded to a black core in the shape of one reminiscent of the Darksaber slowly erupting from the hilt at the same pace as the aforementioned legendary Mandalorian weapon.
Appius allowed Zxyl his moment to show off before stating in a low, deep voice.
“He did this to me…” he gestured to his arms, legs, and helmet.
Zxyl raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet, curious. What exactly did he mean? Was he more machine than man now?
“I am going to assume… cybernetics. My only question is how he managed it and what happened afterwards?”
“Well, I wasn’t always this tall, or have you shrunk?” Appius afforded himself a small shrug. “We fought. I lost. Crushed me under a mountain of rubble. Had to remove my limbs to get me out. Beskar isn’t helping when you are buried alive under hundreds of pounds of rock. The metal bent and crushed my lungs. Hence, the breathing apparatus.”
Zxyl sighed. What a disappointment.
“Fair enough. And so then what?” He asked.
“I was excavated like a prized artifact. What do you think happened?” Appius’ tone was snarky, but he caught himself and sighed.
“Sorry. It’s a lot. The people who recovered me, they fit my cybernetics. I had to learn how to walk and use my arms again. That took me a whole year. Every time I didn’t meet their expectations, they…”
He looked away. “Shocked me. They knew who I was. Of course they did. They found it quite fitting. They tried to break me, but I fought, and clawed, and scratched my way through it all. I’m just glad my kids never had to see that. I had Darrio take them away to Rekkaid the moment shit went down on that force-forsaken rock with Anders.”
Fitting. Of course they knew who you were.
Zxyl stopped what he was doing for a moment as HK-000 alerted him to movement on the outer perimeter, and began tracking their movement closer to their location.
“I see. And what of you now, Appius Wight?” Zxyl asked slyly, but in a confident tone. “Are you still the man you once were? What of your combat prowess as a wielder of the Force? Have you begun following the old ways?”
“`ansi [2;31m[1;31mGAMEMASTER:[0m[2;31m[0m Appius, you see a blip pop up on your helmet’s passive scanner but it quickly disappears. [0m[2;40m[0m
”`
Zxyl… stopped?
Somehow, given what Appius knew of him, he didn’t do that for no reason. Every action Zxyl did had a purpose.
“I don’t have the Force anymore, no… I.. ”
He paused when a blip on his H.U.D caught his attention. He looked at Zxyl. “You saw that, right?”
Zxyl’s head turned in the location of the entrace, as he reached from and pulled from the holster on his right thigh the custom WESTAR-35 Blaster Pistol Naast.
“Triple-Zero caught it first… he’s been tracking them closing in on our position. It’s about time we get out of here.”
The Mandalorian General raised Naast to a low-ready position as his entire demeanor changed from relaxed to much more military in his movements, moving towards one of the walls for a bit of cover as he began to leave the Great Forge. He wasn’t sure exactly what was coming up on them - Triple-Zero wasn’t either - but he wasn’t about to let whoever it was crash their party unexpectedly. That was, afterall, why he had put the HK-series Gladiator Droid on lookout in the first place.
Just in case.
H.A.L. came to life inside Bes'uliik’s helmet, conducting active scans - while with much more limited range than passive scans, provided more information about the whereabouts of targets versus abstract pings - of the area and readying combat systems interconnected with the armor like the Mandalorian’s heavy jetpack, vambraces, and kneepad rockets. No matter the situation, the Dathomirian-Mandalorian was always prepared for any conflict.
With a swish in the air, a twirl in his fingers, and a hard stomp of his boot, the polearm in Appius’ hand sizzled with electricity at the tip. The H.U.D in his helmet began scanning their immediate surroundings.
“I’ll go first. Cover me.”
The jetpack spewed flames and lifted the once former Supreme Chancellor from the ground and into the air.
“Very well, you first,” nodded the Mandalorian General as he too fired his jetpack, taking off a little after Appius.
“`ansi [2;31m[1;31mGAMEMASTER:[0m[2;31m[0m Okay Appius,
Now that you’re airborne, your helmet’s active sensors are now pinging the surrounding area, and getting much better detection. It isn’t long before you pick up a half a dozen tangos, moving in a direct "V” shaped formation towards the Forge. HK-000 has relayed that they are moving via ground, likely on foot.
They are 1.3 kilometers N/E of your position. There’s a bunch of ruins (naturally) in that direction.[0m[2;40m[0m
“`
As Appius flew, thousands of beetle-like creatures appeared on his helmets scanners. He soared faster, bringing back his forearm as he approached the incoming swarm with reckless abandonment. He thrust forward his weapon and pierced through the abdomen of the first insectoid. He tossed the dead carcass into a second as they exploded into a magnificent fireball. The hue of orange light illuminated his armor as he let loose the rockets hidden in his kneepads. The cacophony of death was a sight to behold…
That would be awesome. Sadly, that was not reality, and combat was never that simple. Appius snapped himself from his daydream. He’d been doing that a lot lately.
Maybe Zxyl was right. Maybe there was more damage done to him. More than just physical? Oh well. Only the crazy were truly sane.