Burnt Bridges

[Shia Kryze]

Dathomir
Remains of the Silver Forest Village

Shia walked slowly through the ruins of the village, letting her bare hands trail across the charred stumps of buildings, occasionally stopping to touch the ash. She wasn't in a hurry, and there was a point to the meeting being here, one she didn't miss.

There were only a few villages that had either resisted, been targeted by accident or been the subject of... deliberate attention from Empire attackers to the point that they had been destroyed. But she knew the Mando'ade who had dropped naplam on this particular 'resistance outpost' and while she didn't doubt the villagers had been fighting, it was their home after all. There were no limits in war, no prizes for second place. But that ironically made proper conduct all the more important.

She didn't feel sorrow for the deaths - deaths were natural, and she could no longer feel sorrow for the death itself. But the wasted life, the pain and suffering prior to death? The pointless nature of an act. She could understand that.

Besides, she was here to meet a man who was self declared as the enemy of her people to ask for assistance, it was polite to take heed of the lesson. She had been searching for him for a while now, but the Mist River Village - who had been remarkably cordial, all things considered, had told her the Warlock could be found here.

So here she was.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

Ember came back to himself, sprawled in the ashes of the village. This particular Nightsister village had been identified as a potential threat and hit with a preemptive, unprovoked napalm strike. Most of the planet's other casualties had made a degree of sense, but not here. When he picked up the ash-smeared notebook he'd brought, he found it full of confusion. His fingers ached from the pen, and every other line was in a new flavor of handwriting. The ghosts were at peace, or at least ushered on. Some of them might take centuries to forget and fade. He'd done what he could.

He wrapped the book in a length of armorweave and tucked it into his shoulder bag. Ash covered him head to toe, a side effect of his time here rather than an affectation. He wiped it off his face as best he could, and focused on the woman who'd emerged from the wreckage.

"What brings you?" he said.

 

[Shia Kryze]

"Three things."

Shia looked at the notebook, her eyes flashing like blades and her words trailed off, dying in her throat, which suddenly ached. Not at the notebook, but at... she shook her head slightly to clear it.

"Sorry, Master Rekali. That... caught me unawares." She swallowed. "One, if you have a li..." She paused, then rephrased her request. "Munin is leading a raid against Mereel on Concord Dawn." She opens her arms to gesture around her. "I won't have it. But I can't stop it."

She doesn't ask him to do anything, not out of loyalty, but out of shame at being unable to protect innocent Mandalorians.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

Ember didn't ask her name; he didn't have to. Between ghost-talking and mundane intel, he had a pretty decent idea of the Empire's rising stars these days. None of the dead called her a betrayer, and that was something. He sat down on a half-burned front step with no house attached, and spat ashy mud into the black street.

"Of course you can try to stop it. That man has no spine and too much love for respect. Press your case hard enough and he'll usually back down. If you won't have it, then you get in there and you interrupt. Find his battleboys some more interesting targets, and take them for a ride. There's no shortage of coalitions and little empires on the map."

He shrugged.

"That's how I'd do it, anyway."

 

[Shia Kryze]

[member="Ember Rekali"]

Shia laughed, the tone amused but hollow.

"It's good to know you're not all-knowing alongside nearly all-powerful."

She replied, taking a seat of her own on the remains of a building support.

"I think you... either overestimate my pull, overestimate what Yasha is capable of, or you're miss-reading the situation on Mandalore. You might be able to pull that off with him and maybe in six months, a year, I might be able to do what you suggest. But the Sith rot is deep enough and Mereel... he has a list, a list which has everything to do with his wounded ego, Ra's... lets be generous and call it induced madness and Mandalore's inflamed need for vengance than it does anything he should be thinking about."

She looked away for a moment, then returned her gaze steadily.

"Personally, I'd rather challenge him and sever his murderous head from his body, as vengance of all those who died when he turned away Silver Jedi support and along with Ra let the 'benificent Sith' sweep in. But either way, I'm just the new vod. Yes, I can ask my friend to shape policy and I have, at length. So I'm here, passing on what I know before I ask you for help."

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"And it's good to know the vode think I'm all-powerful. That's largely a lie. I listen to the dead and I make guesses and sometimes I spend a lot of money very quietly. I trade on my old reputation. I scare people with hard words like some kind of politician. It's all just cobwebs and dust, because those are the weapons I have. I could bring hell if I needed to, but the consequences wouldn't be worth it."

He prodded the ashes with a stick for a few heartbeats, lost in thought.

"There are three kinds of people, Kryze. Leaders, followers, and loners. They don't always know what kind they are, or stay there, but it's true. I'm a loner, always have been - it's one reason why I never let them name me Mandalore, and they tried. I take initiative and people hitch on to my wagon because they think I'm going somewhere. Ra Vizsla, from what I can tell, was pretty much the same: just one angry man out to do what he thought was necessary, and everyone followed. I doubt he enjoyed leading. It takes a different skillset to rule than it does to win.

"Now apply that framework to the Cuir Rekr. Leader, follower, loner. What do you see?"

 

[Shia Kryze]

"Currently? Well, there are only two."

Shia looks off into the distance.

"Yasha might be a leader, but I'm afraid for her - of what happened to her. Munin is a follower. Preliat... a loner, and a broken one. And I don't know Aunt Mantis very well, but she's a private person."

She sighs.

"You want to talk likely outcomes? We'll avoid conflict with the First Order - just not worth the effort. We'll sustain our alliance with the Sith Empire, because otherwise we vanish into it, while we have Kaine thinking we're on his leash, he's just as much on ours. Our peaceful neighbours might get raided, but not seriously. We'll expand until we have the old core systems, while distracting the people with bread and circuses heavy raids into Wild Space, the Outer Rim and the Core. The wildcards are what our people do every time they go out, not just to others, but to themselves - when I say Manda'yaim is dying, I should say 'Manda'yaim and the Mando'ade' - our soul is dying, you only have to look around here to know that. You know who dropped these bombs? A kid, looking to prove himself. I can't have six years on him."

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

Ember grunted in agreement with her evaluation. "Yasha's a leader, all right - big dreams, more than a little in love with the sound of her own voice. You can't succeed in a role like that without a practical level of hubris. She'll do fine if she doesn't burn out or go along with the wrong call. You've got Preliat and Vilaz dead to rights, too. Don't know the fourth at all."

The ashes fluttered into an ethereal galaxy, maybe three paces across, floating a handspan above the ground. The major nations appeared as darker ash and shards of bone, whirling in a breeze. Ember controlled the shape with flicks of his fingers and the occasional mumble.

"My point is that none of them got where they are through leadership experience. Neither did Ra. So why not someone with a feel for proportion and a bit of common sense? Why not someone whose answer to existential crisis is better than let's go kill someone?"

 

[Shia Kryze]

Shia does laugh this time.

"It's on my list. I didn't go digging up the darksaber because I like the way it looks on my wall, you know. And if anyone else with a sense of proportion steps up, they'll get my vote because then I won't be lumbered with what seems like the galaxies worst job."

She pauses, not entirely believing she said that out loud.

"But honestly, that's why I'm here - the other two favours, to start tilting the balance before the whole house of cards comes tumbling down. The first point was just... making sure I had all my bases covered. It's not the only message drop I've got lined up."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"Good. Anyone who wants the job without reservation is, on some level, either a megalomaniac or an idiot, often both. The best Mandalores in modern history were dragged into it because they saw what kind of damage a few ambitious morons could make. Gil Skirata, Monroe before Velok's memories ate her brain, the Bear way back in the day - they just put their heads down and did the job. None of this shiny bloviation. There's a reason 'demagol' and 'demagogue' sound alike."

The ashen galaxy puffed away on a breeze.

"Two more favors, eh? Speak your piece. I try not to make promises, unless prepubescent warleaders are threatening to burn planets." He smiled without humor. It was a joke; that didn't stop it from being true.

 

[Shia Kryze]

[member="Ember Rekali"]

Shia laughed - ever since the Netherworld, horrible gallows humour sometimes struck a genuinely funny note, for a moment, she looked appalled.

"Okay. One is mundane but not trivial, the other..." She shrugs. "Mundane first. I've come to learn Clan Rekali controls the entire supply of Worldcraft - not words I expected to use - once available to the Mando'ade. Clan Kryze - me - would like to buy one, or whatever, preferably one with custom work if the shipyards are still around, but I'll take what I can get. Two express purposes. One, to give my nomad people a home. Selfish but true. Two. To try and save as much of the Mandalorian biosphere as we can, out of the reach of lunatics. Well, most lunatics."

She ticks to her second finger.

"Two. I came back from the Netherworld... able to feel death, see ghosts. I swore for what... a month now that I wasn't a Force Sensitive - and I know I wasn't before I went in, so I'd like to know what the hell - pun sadly intended - is going on and if I can... master this... gift. Before I get caught out in public and I lose all that credit." A long pause. "And... maybe to teach our people, and their genuine enemies, a little about what life and death really mean."

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]
“My granddaughter Alec is the clan chief, runs the family business, keeps the clan’s people and assets safe. The decision would be hers. If your clan can afford a worldcraft, that means work and money for the Rekali syndicate. Understand, Kryze: the Cuir Rekr have scattered, killed, or imprisoned Rekali stragglers whenever they can. I'm told some among the Mantis brag about it. My clan's industrial and military base is as far beyond the Empire’s reach as basic self-examination. Risking that isolation would be a difficult choice for Alec, no matter how good the wages or how honorable the goal. I'll ask her and let you know."

Ember let her chew on that as he got up and rummaged around in the wreck. Chewing on a splinter, he laid out a burnt spear between them. He settled back onto the lonely steps and tapped the spear with a stick.

“The spear is a continuum of connection to the Force. There are plenty of factors, but let's pretend the question all fits into this nice little analogy. Every living thing falls somewhere along this line. The spearhead is what most consider Force-sensitives: people who could become Jedi Masters or Sith Lords. Tip of the spear is your average prodigy. Ignore that part: nobody cares about Chosen Ones.”

The stick rattled along the burnt spear shaft.

“Everyone else is somewhere in here. Yasha Mantis is the butt: she's broken. Slide a little way up and you've got your average person - you, for most of your life. A Sith Lord walks in and they feel a chill.”

He thwacked the middle of the spear, not hard.

“Right here is what's called Force-attuned. Lucky smugglers who get a bad feeling about a situation. Way more common than you'd think. They'll never be a Jedi, but don't underestimate the Force. Sometimes-” The stick slid a little farther toward the spearhead. “-those people have hidden talents they don't know about, or they're one-trick vornskrs. Textbook example: that dick Jorus Merrill. By all accounts he can't do a thing with the Force ninety-nine percent of the time. People with his knack carved out half the galaxy's hyperlanes. Maybe you and your voices are somewhere in there. There's no way to tell for sure except work.”

 

[Shia Kryze]

[member="Ember Rekali"]

Shia nods, clearly considering, while she does so, she discusses the mundane business.

"Thank you - we can afford the price, but I understand the risk involved - and the reckoning that is no doubt coming to the Mantis clan - and that the risk may outweigh all other considerations. Clan Kryze faced the same choice when we decided if we should return home and recognise either Mia or Ra as Mandalore."

She sighs.

"Of course, we got back and there was only one option unless we wanted to turn around and rebel. Call me stupid, I often do, but I couldn't do that."

She looks back up from spear and nods.

"Okay, that makes sense, actually considering... what happened. Would I be right in saying that the Ferrypeople - because they're sure as heck not all men - of the Netherworld are... aspects of the Force given sentience as psychopomps, to guide souls through the Netherworld until they merge with the Force? Sorry if that's a bit off base, I got your lectures to Yasha retold through her lens, while trying to talk about anything other than the screaming horror around us."

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"I don't talk with the ferry workers. They don't like me much since I built my bridge from the Blood Wastes to the Field of Blades. I'm afraid I don't know the word 'psychopomp' - my school career focused more on poisons than vocabulary. In my opinion, everything in the Netherworld either used to be alive in some form, or exists because billions have imagined it. That's why there's no natural sense or balance to any of those places: mortals dreamed them up and kept on dreaming. So are the ferryfolk sentient spirits or collective imagination? Maybe a bit of both. People keep themselves alive and relevant all the time by turning into what other people expect of them."

 

[Shia Kryze]

"That... so there's some truth, not literal truth, but figurative truth in ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum? Aside from the obvious actual social truths that remembering the dead is generally good for dealing with grief?"

Shia pauses for a moment.

"A guide to the lands of the dead. And... yes, I can see how they might be a little pissed off with rearranging Netherworld geography, such as it is."

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"That's an interesting insight. I'd never caught that before, and I've said those words many, many times. The longer I look at Mandalorian beliefs, going back thousands of years, the more I see a ring of truth to them. They used to be true, and then millennia of opinions distorted them. And now we're at a place where we don't understand much at all. Just look at the Warlock's Gate - a planet invaded, a small army stationed permanently, just in case something comes through. Well, something did come through, and the army turned out to be useless...but it's still there. Out of fear. Fear of experience, fear of learning harsh truths or learning harshly. Why do you think the Mandalorian Empire, apart from Ra Vizsla's high points, has made a habit of picking targets that can't fight back in any serious way? Your leaders target random little worlds for supplies, only fight half-dead or distant governments - the Mandalorian Empire is the schoolyard bully of the galaxy, and like most bullies has a heart full of cowardice. I'm not talking about the rank and file, not all of them. You know who I mean."

 

[Shia Kryze]

[member="Ember Rekali"]

"Mmmm. It's less something and more someone."

Shia comments in response to Ember's statement about the Warlock's Gate.

"But you're right - on all of it - we've assimilated cultures from across the galaxy, while retaining the core of our own, but cowards and bigots mistake that core for the whole truth and cling to it out of fear - an understandable fear, in a way. I know more about the Jedi than I do the Sith, but fear is at the heart of both belief structures, in it's presence or absence."

She nods, almost to herself, as if having decided on something.

"And in ours - the eternal conflict between change and stagnation comes from the fear of failure, which is a fear of death in the end. So yes, I know who you mean. I also know that for now, I need to stay inside the Empire to mold whatever comes after. I don't have the luxury of holding to the Ori'ramikade and simply abandoning a dishonourable band. Others can affect the external change."

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"A sensible decision. In your shoes, I'd think similar things."

Ember tapped the outrage of burying all his children, threw in the fury that the ashes inspired, and dug deep into the Dark Side of the Force. Kryze, he knew, would see nothing different about him, but would feel that something fundamental had shifted. His knuckles cracked, the same fist that had once punched its way into the Sith Council's holocron vault.

"A year's travel past the Kathol sector, there's an alien power called the Aing-Tii monks. Two of my children went out there and learned from them before you were born. I never had their natural talent, but I've been using one Aing-Tii technique ever since. It's called flow-walking."

He folded his hands in his lap, and a cold breeze ran through the charred forest.

"Would you like to see the future, Kryze?"

 

[Shia Kryze]

"No. But want is not the same as needing, or as letting you make your point."

Shia shivered slightly, she didn't know what had changed, but people don't crack knuckles like that unless they're in what she might describe as a 'killing mood'.

"So show me." No bravado at all - Shia's smart enough to be intimidated when she needs to be.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Shia Kryze"]

"Close your eyes. Quiet your mind. If you hear the ghosts, respect them and move past them."

A vision unfolded across Shia's consciousness. Ember controlled part of it, but the will and patterns of the Force had their say as well. She felt scenes as much as saw them.

"You'll notice that some contradict others. The future is always in motion. Even the best flow-walkers can only sense probabilities, see futures that might come true. You'll start to see, as I see, that the Mandalorian Empire is destined to fail - but will people like you and me find their freedom in blood, or just quietly reclaim it once the Empire's time comes to an end? You'll see all the potential outcomes of Yasha Mantis' desire to wrestle the Empire into a shape she likes, and none of them will surprise you. You'll see the roles you could play: follower, loner, leader, all more or less likely. You'll get some idea of what you could become.

"I'll leave you to the vision. Come find me when you're done."