Public Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

[Malai Ka]

Hyperspace was beautiful, this was the one thought upon Malai's mind as she was pressed into her seat. She had never seen colors move so fast before, lights blinding as she moved far faster than she'd ever dreamed. These ships were like magic, as she zoomed far away from the Pattern and from her people. She was enamored by the brightly colored switches, the lights flashing on the board in front of her. And she knew absolutely nothing about what was happening, as the ship basically plotted its own course to her destination, a world not far from the Iego system that the heavily outdated systems of the ship claimed was populated and under Republic control. The fact that this information was approximately a thousand years out of date meant little to the Angel or her Elders who sent her on her way. How much could the galaxy have changed in a thousand years, really?

The lights and colors of the light freighter were enough wonder for the Angel until the ship suddenly jerked out of hyperspace with an audible clunking that likely should not have happened, leaving her with a view of Saleucami from space. A planet with... only two moons? And a star! A star so close to it, she could see how massive that star was. It was so distracting that all the instructions her Elders had given her on how to run the ship flew out of her mind. And in moments, this lapse of judgement lead to a blaring warning over the freighter's PA system. "Warning, trajectory error, warning, entering gravitational pull. Warning, please make corrective adjustments." The warnings blared, and by the patterns they were not nice - shrill blaring of a navicomputer trying to get Malai to do things she didn't know how to do.

The ship shook as it entered the atmosphere, Malai's hands gripping the controls without knowledge of what they did in pure panic as she - literally - spun out of control towards the planet, her little freighter full of screaming from both her and the navicomputer's warnings. It was a hell of a way to make an entrance, as her ship miraculously flew just over the capital of Taleucema and miss the edges of the cratered terrain around the capital to land in a relative valley deeper in, smashing through trees and dirt on the way down. It was a hell of a thing to watch, certainly, as the ship literally skipped to a stop, armored platings flying off from the impact each time it smashed into the ground, finally skidding through the dirt a wrecked mess of a ship.

Malai was not in a much better shape than the ship itself - a blood-like white liquid dripped out of her true form, turning to a brighter light as it dripped off skin, and she slowly undid her restraints, the world in front of her spinning still from the earlier downward spiral. She did not know how lucky she was for her species lack of eating, lest she would have been covered in it again - but even an Angel could hurt. And this one did, as she slowly pulled pieces of glass from her own arms and face, where small bits had broken off and smashed into her. Everything hurt, but she could at least read as she hit the large red button marked as EMERGENCY, and activated the SOS marker on an open channel, hoping for someone to show up.

Malai wasn't just sitting there though, as she stumbled through the wrecked halls of the freighter - that honestly could have been in much worse shapes, judging by the landing - she at the very least began bandaging herself with the help of the mirror. Luckily the impact hadn't completely shattered out her viewport, or she'd likely have just died, a fact that she was keenly aware of. The white robes she was given - and told to wear in the presence of non-angels - were not without tears now, but still usable. It was her face that bared the most injury, and her exposed arms where she had foolishly pushed the robes up. And so the slow treatment of injury began, even as the doors to the ship lay busted off in the fall, leaving the unarmed Malai quite able to be snuck up on.

 

['Spades']

Spades was cruising in system, listing to the local radio just before a sudden SOS siren blared on his ARC-170's Display computer. He watched it in disbelief as he reached forward with his hand. The Clone knew that this was probably a trap but nevertheless the call to do good rang in his ears as he relayed a message back to the burning husk of a freighter on Saleucami. He sent a response back in a audio transmission. Spades did his best of course, rattling off his ship's name, serial number, and purpose. Once finished he would take the controls of his ARC-170 and rumble the ancient ship to life. Of course, it had been sitting in a trash heap for a good nine hundred years but, with a bit of tinkering it was perfectly space worthy. Thanks to his new commander.

"Freighter, Number Unknown. This is Republic Reconnaissance Fighter Number three-two-three-five-six-five-one. We are responding to your SOS. This is ARC Trooper, Serial Number Two-Seven dash three-two-three-seven-five. We will be there shortly for rescue operations."​

Easy enough, frighteningly, he rattled off Republic instead of the name of the organization he now worked for. Perhaps it was safer to respond as "Republic" instead of his true allegiances. He and his ship soon entered the blue spiraling abyss that was hyperspace and dissipated into deep space...


On the surface of Saleucami, A radio ping would be heard inside of the Freighter aswell as a auto-playing message from Spades. It was of course the Angel's choice on whether or not to answer the call but, nevertheless help was coming. Above Saleucami, Spades exited hyperspace into direct orbit of the pristine world. He was shocked at first, since it had been ravaged by General Skywalker's and Kenobi's legions on the path to destroy Grevious but now, it looked... very different. To how he remembered it in his mind. Spades shook off these superstitions quickly, only focusing on coming in to land. Eventually, he broke atmosphere and caught sight with the Capitol City. Pristine and untouched, Strange. Not how he remembered it at all. He looked for the Crashed ship, sounding off to himself as he did so.

"Okay.. ugly building check. Not the ship, Garbage People, Spice Freighter, Wait. Spice Freighter, down there... ech.. looks bad.​

He'd veer the ship down just a few meters past the crashed Freighter, allowing his rickety old Fighter to lower down its landing legs. Well, what used to be landing legs anyway. He peered at the ship through his cockpit, making sure to peer around for any sort of scavengers or more unscrupulous types. He'd keep his eyes on the ship, before opening his cockpit with a hand. He'd get up out of his seat and slowly would descend from his cockpit using its built in ladder, not before removing his helmet. He'd also be carrying his helmet at his side, braced against his body. Of course, he was clad head to toe in Phase 1.5 ARC Trooper Armor, essentially prototypes for Phase 2 Armor. Which easily stuck him out as a Republic ARC Trooper, that is. If anyone recognized his kit. His head would be exposed, his face clearly a Jango Fett clone being visible as well as his squared away standard Clone Trooper's Flat-Top. He'd crane his head sideways looking for an entrance before just settling to shout at the freighter.

"Hello? This is your Rescue. Republic Fighter Number three-two-three-five-six-five-one. Are you injured?"

Malai Ka ​

 

[Aaran Tafo]

It was not had to recognise a crashing ship. Even in the morning gloom. Aaran's eyes winced slightly at the glare from the burning exhaust of the ship's thrusters as it arced through the sky. He had come to Taleucema on a whim. As was his way when exploring the various worlds scattered around the galaxy. So long as it was not in actively hostile territory. He simply loaded the destination up on his navicomputer and made his way there. Seeking to immerse himself in the local culture, try the local food. And, if the local populace had any major problems, act in his capacity as a Jedi to help resolve them.

As it was his duty as a Jedi to preserve and safeguard life when he saw it. So when one witnesses a ship crashing nearby. It seemed only fair to search for survivors.

Quickly loading up a speeder with medical supplies, Aaran wasted no time zooming off into the wilderness around the capital city. Blurring past trees, rocks and local wildlife until he arrived at his destination. Surprised to see that someone had already beaten him to his destination. A Mandalorian by the look of it. Clicking his tongue once, Aaran hefted the bag of medical supplies over his shoulder as he stepped out of the speeder.

"Mandalorian!" He called out, stepping forward towards the ship. "Not gonna fight you over salvage rights. But I am checking this wreck for survivors. Aint looking for no trouble."" He said, hopping forward to poke his head into the ruined ship. Past the blasted doors. "He-" He began to call out into the ship, hoping for a response. But, as he peered through the doors of the freighter. He could already see the luminous being sitting in the cockpit, bandaging herself.

"Uhhhhh." He stammered dumbly, eyes blinking rapidly as his mind attempted to process what he was seeing. The tall, graceful looking, achingly gorgeous figure currently bandaging herself. It was an unfortunate thing. While the Silver Jedi Order did teach restraint and discipline. It did not so strictly enforce the encouraged celibacy of the more strict, older order. So the poor Padawan had never really had the worldly experience in order to know how to properly react at the sight of such a striking figure.

Shaking his head once, attempting to clear his mind of such distractions. "Are.... are you alright?" He finally called out, making a feeble effort to comport himself as a Jedi should. Trying very hard to not just stare at the Angel of Iego.

 

[Malai Ka]

It was almost difficult to hear the message coming through as the Arc Trooper called Malai's attention back to the world and instead of to her injuries, bandaged cleanly - almost too cleanly, as the 'blood' seemed to fade away after touching the cloth. The PA system was apparently stuck with regards to its warning messages, but between it screeching about course correction and fatal errors, the Clone's message came through in a slow piece-mail that gave Malai hope. A person! A real person that was actually coming to help her, in her time of need, how excellent! The bandaged Diathim made her way back to her cockpit, a stumbling slow walk through that hallway that didn't match the graceful figure she was meant to be. And then she reached the cockpit and... stared. Why were the buttons besides 'Emergency' not labeled? Who made starships and then didn't manually label each and every button? There were like 100 of them, how was she supposed to know which one did what?

And thus, as Spades made his epic trip through space to come and save this poor Angel, her ship became an even larger mess than before. As she activated light systems, turned on emergency fire-powder, managed to turn off the navicomputer warnings (a small victory), activated some extremely outdated Republic Opera that hadn't been current since the days of the original CIS, turned on dance lighting in every room in the ship, and activated the microphone... for local announcements, rather than the communicator (along with a dozen other processes that, thankfully, were broken in the crash). When she finally got the radio working, it was just as Spades was leaving his, her voice cackling over a very broken radio (on a still fully open channel) that was at least eighty percent static, and ruined any of the natural soothing voice the Diathim had.

"Yes! sshrk Malai hello, Seven-Two-Three-shrk number shrk yes. Hello. I shrk hit a pla*shrk*. Thank shrk for com*shrk*."

After that, Malai was much less panicked, but she thought oh - she should have a gift for her person who comes to protect her, yes? Gifts seemed customary among the Castaways, towards those who protected their tribes. So Malai moved back into the little room with the odd open-bottom seat and what the elders had called a 'Refresher', to look for something. The man had said he was republic, so surely the best gift would be something they would like.... which meant prying off a pierce of metal from inside the open-bottom seat, that labeled itself as 'Certified Under All Republic Standards!'

With that done, she headed with her new gift for her new Republic friend to the cockpit, to pack up her bandages and small bits of material possession - which basically amounted to a second set of clothes, some bandages, and a handful of little silver and gold chips that she was told were useful to the Republic but she didn't really know what they were, so she was hoping her new friend would like them. This was when the two men were coming near the ship, and also when she happened to notice them, both Jedi and Clone. With zero hint of restraint, she glided along the bottom of the ship - rather than walking like she had - her wings unfurling as she propelled herself forward on them, despite their motionless nature.

"Republic friends hello!!! Number friend and... other friend? Hello!"

Exuberance came naturally mixed with a honeyed tone that made the Angels notable sirens dragging down ships to crash.... an irony that was completely lost on the Angel who just crashed. Luckily this world was not infested with man eating subterranean nearly invulnerable demons. Instead she was greeted with two nice looking people (in her opinion).

"I mostly okay, my bandages good and the heal will begin! Simply hit planet. Not big deal. Never done." A smile and a laugh followed this statement.

"Are you okay? I wish I had known to get two, I have only one gift! I am having many apologies for this, perhaps I will find another? I am hoping for help in finding Republic am told by Elders that they helpful space?"

As she said this, she looked back into the ship, then down at the little labeled mechanism in her hand, that... well, could possibly be recognized as pre-BBY era toilet parts.

-----
'Spades'
@'Aaran Tafo'

 

['Spades']

Spades was only standing there waiting, well waiting until all of a sudden a Jedi came out of nowhere and gave the poor clone a 'significant emotional event' from the surprise. Hand was immediately down by blaster, and the other just about to put on his helmet. That was, until the Jedi listed out his intentions and called him a "Mandalorian." Well, Spades opened his mouth and spoke in a not too happy manner.

"First off, Way ahead of you there. I heard the SOS earlier and Im pretty sure I saw something move inside. Secondly, Im not a Mandalorian. Never was, never will be. Im a clone. Have you ever seen one before, ya know. In the history books?"

By clear estimation, Spades had no idea that the man before him was infact a Jedi. Well, he did see an inkling judging by those robes but all he knew was that the Jedi betrayed the Republic Somehow and were all made extinct. He watched the Jedi approach briefly. But then, out of NOWHERE. A Angel came about and probably gave Spades another slightly more significant, significant emotional event. He flinched hard, and turned toward the tall white thing just float toward him as if this were some freaky Jedi Mind Trick. In short, he stood closest to the Angel and as such, addressed the Angel. First, mouth agape, then with a shake of the head before collecting himself.

"Well... thats a piece of the refresher but I accept your gift. I guess that's a start? Anyway. I am your rescue. I heard your SOS over public channels but I had no idea it was an Angel. Im ARC-Two-Seven..."​

He got a bit sidetracked as he continued to stare. The sights and sounds were quite mesmerizing clear as day to a clone who probably never saw a single beautiful female in his life instead of butt-ugly or just celibate Jedi who appeared every now and then. He caught himself, before continuing. His voice adopting a more professional tone now, with hints of his personality. That being, a sudden rush of shit to the brain after a few moments which caused him to stutter.

"I'm from the Republic well... a long ago, and judging by the state of your ship. Things could have gone better. Do you need trans---- port to a free system? I know someone who can get you on your way as quickly as possible. But, if you would answer a-- more personal question, why exactly is an Angel here-- on a former battlefield? You trying to run from something?"​

His query's came not as an interrogation but as off handed comments as he typed things down into his wrist recorder. Clearly he was here to help judging by his tone. He'd also catch himself from continuing to ask more questions by just going

"Auuugh-- anyway."

​

Malai Ka Aaran Tafo

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He blinked once, twice at the false-mandalorian's declaration that they were in fact a clone. And not a member of one of the clans native to Mandalore. But sadly, history and academics were never Aaran's strongest points. He could perfectly well acknowledge that this man in front of him was a clone. But the actual specifics of the Grand Army of the old Republic were long lost to him. He simply never paid much attention during those lessons.

"Why are you wearing Mandalorian armour then? They consider it pretty disrespectful if you're not part of a clan and you wear it." A simple enough assumption to make. Thanks to their progenitor Jango Fett. The armour of the Clone Army was easy to mistake for that of a Mandalorian's. That, and the generally honourable nature of the majority of the army and their loyalty to one another made it easy to simply assume they were from Mandalore.

Shaking his head and turning his attention back towards the Angel. Aaran, was doing his best to not stare. And failing quite miserably at that attempt. He did let a small smile show on his face at the offer of refresher parts. The sheer innocence he could feel exuding from the alien in waves was a refreshing experience compared to what he usually felt during such strange meetings. "The fact that you are relatively unharmed is gift enough." He said, placating the strange creature's worry that she needed to produce a gift in greeting for Aaran. While such things were appriciated. They were ultimately unneeded.

He remained silent for a moment. Allowing the clone to explain themselves, mentally filing away what they stated for later. Letting the military man ask the initial questions while he simply studied the new arrival. No overt feelings of hostility or malevolence were felt from an initial look. And that was enough for Aaran to file the copy of Jango Fett under 'friend' as opposed to 'foe'.

"Yes, you did mention needing help. What exactly is going on? Medical emergency? Is your home in danger?" He asked, before pausing and mentally chiding himself for his rudeness. "I'm sorry. Never introduced myself." He said, placing one across his chest and giving a slight bow. "Aaran Tafo. Padawan of the Order of Silver Jedi. Pleased to meet you both."

 

[Malai Ka]

Two people were talking to her at once, and the little Angel just quietly listened while counting on her fingers, another finger going up at each question she was asked. Introductions were being made and she didn't notice the stares in the least, but she still just kept counting, her eyes eventually shutting tight as she evidently tried to maintain focus on the conversation. There was a lot being asked and being said and the little Angel was looking back and forth and waiting for her best moment to interject. And while that was happening she just... suddenly thrust her hand out to hand Spades his new little Refresher piece, looking oh so pleased as she got more fingers to count on.

Her voice was a little confused as she counted down the line of questions, one by one lowering a finger as she answered each, apparently deeming every single thing mentioned worthy of response right then and there.

"I am agreeing on being good to start, yes. New gifts are good for new friends very much, the Castaway teach this. Is for good graces and help yes." Her smile was simple and showed no teeth - which likely would have been hard to see under the unearthly glow of the woman - one of the fingers on her right hand going down.

Instead she offered a little bow of her head to the Jedi next, as she chose to answer one of the questions on her left hand, "Home is still home, as it has always been. The Elders said seek Republic for Outside knowledge of the Pattern and its Distortion." A point towards the ship around her, both her hands creating a 'rainbow' motion to show it all. "I not know how fly metal, only on own, so I fall from sky instead. Painful journey end. Help need to find Republic Knowledge-Help. Not able to fly between world easy. Very slow."

This time after lowering her left finger, she looked back to Spades, whom she didn't seem at all scared of, despite his manly man looks and his arms, "I hurt many things in the Pattern in sad-anger, and now I look for help in that yes. Many apologies for coming to danger world, did not mean to cause any harm."

Her tone was slightly more formal, if only in how she seemed less excited by speaking about it, "Am known as Malai of the Ka-Patterned, in the home speech. Known to friend as Joy-Star, yes. Is much joy to meet arctwoseven of the Republic-Old and Aaron Tafo-Patterned of the Silver-Padawan-Jedi. Am wondering if know best-knowledgers of Pattern-manipulator?" The Angel's elders had told her of the Republic and their guardians that would know how to deal with her skillset, but their lack of clarity left her confused on who exactly to seek. Let alone with the knowledge that the Republic of old had fallen more than once since her Elders updated their knoweldge.

 

['Spades']

Spades made watched the Angel talk. Completely mesmerized. It was only after a few moments did he finally realize her predicament. He nodded along as he slowly pocketed the refresher piece. In the meantime he stood there he looked around briefly trying to catch eyes with anyone else nearby, luckily there was nobody except him, the Jedi and the Angel. He listened to her talk.

"Well, Ms. Ka. I think I might be able to find out what went wrong. Then we can get you on your way in a bit, I'll call some of my brothers and see if they can make way here with a proper engineering team. So, if you don't mind me asking. What made you come out here? This place is kinda remote and only smugglers come through nowadays."

He nodded his head as she responded. He continued.

"Just to let you know, I'm not exactly apart of the Republic anymore. How old are your star charts? The Republic died almost a millennia ago because the /Jedi/-."

He cast a slightly off-put look at the Jedi nearby before continuing once again.

"Jedi betrayed the Republic, and we clones were supposed to put them down to prevent their rebellion from growing any larger. Okay, so here's what I can do. Just by looking at your ship I can tell that its out of commission, looks like you impacted pretty hard just behind the boulder there. I can get you to a nearby spaceport and maybe then you can hitch a ride there. Or you can come to the Catharian Throne-world to get your bearings before letting you head out. I suggest the latter since this bit of space is chock full of Slavers, smugglers, and other criminal types. Also uh, Call me Spades."

Spades typed something in as he looked up toward the sky. Almost on Que, a old archaic looking ship dropped in out of orbit. Looked like an Ancient Old Republic Blockade Runner. What did happen, was that this blockade runner made a B-line toward the crash-site. Even from this distance, the Old Republic Insignia on it were clearly visible in a slightly faded orange.

"And there we go, almost as if they were there all along. Thats the help I was talking about. We'll get your ship outta here and take it back to the Catharian Throneworld for repairs if that is what you'd like, or they could jury-rig it just enough to get you to one of the inner core planets and from there, you're pretty much on your own."

Malai Ka Aaran Tafo

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Her cadance was incredibly strange.

Sure, she had a good grasp of basic. But her sentence structure was all over the place. Granted, that was occasionally the case with aliens speaking basic. Chances are she was quite eloquent in her native tongue. Slowly but surely, after running what she said through his head again after four or five times. He finally started to get a grasp of what she might be saying. So engrossed in his attempts at translation that he completely missed what Spades had been speaking about in regards to Galactic history. The little factoid that the Jedi Order had apparently betrayed the Republic had flown entirely over his head.

The only time Aaran actually paid some measure of attention to the clone was when they mentioned their name. "Nice to meet you Spades." Aaran chirped brightly. A rather odd reaction considering that just moments before the soldier had accused his order of being traitors.

But, granted it was over a thousand years ago. It seemed a bit off for anyone to still hold a grudge over such a thing.

Crossing both arms behind his back. Aaran allowed the clone to continue, peering over his shoulder to look at the descending ship. He raised a single brow at the auspicious timing. But ultimately said nothing. The man was apparently a soldier. It only made sense he'd be rather organised. As the Padawan awaited the Angel's response, he began to must again over her reasons for leaving her home.

His initial thought of a Pattern-Manipulator she was speaking of was some kind of mechanic or engineer. But the more he mulled over the phrasing used. He figured he may as well act on his hunch. "Miss Ka." He said, raising a finger in an attempt to catch her attention. Waiting politely for her to react to Spades first in an attempt to cease any more overwhelming stimulous.

"When you say you hurt things in anger." He began, raising his hand to the side. Away from anyone. "Was it like this?" And with a small exertion of will. Aaran pushed lightly with the Force. Letting out a light push of kinetic energy. Stirring up the nearby dirt, as if whipped by a harsh breeze. Not enough to violently disrupt anything out of worry of accidentally frightening the Angel.

"Because if it is. I'd like to help you."