Private Drowning

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Gatz Derrevar was in need of many things, and most of them were denied to him. He had no family, they were all dead. He had few friends, and he failed them constantly. He had no peace of mind, not with the way his own thoughts fought him constantly. And he was incapable of truly helping people the way he wanted to, no matter how much effort he put into his training.

But he was also in need of a break, and he was at least able to give himself that.

Gatz found himself standing at the edge of a beach, wearing sand shoes, swim trunks, and a black t-shirt. A small drink—in what he presumed was a coconut—rested in his hand, and it was good enough that he'd probably go back to the bar for another one at some point. He had never been to Scarif before this, but if the whole planet was anything like its beach resorts, then he might have to frequent it more often.

But as nice as the sunshine and the ocean were, he was still enjoying it alone. Always alone. And that gnawed at him, as it always did. Gatz had few people in his life, but those that were there didn't struggle with loneliness the way he did. Valery Noble had woken up alone in the galaxy, but she'd had a family for ten years. That was a long time for the sting of forced solitude to fade. She remembered, of course, but she hadn't lived that fate in a decade. And while Briana Sal-Soren now knew the sting of losing her parents, even she didn't understand what it was like to have no one. In fact, she had so many people in her life, that she had downright excised her own brother.

The two people he trusted more than anyone in the galaxy, and they just didn't get it. And so there was little point in sharing those feelings with them; little point in trying to vent to them. It wouldn't change a thing. He wondered if they understood just how much they took for granted. He wondered if they realized how lucky they were to have people who loved them in their lives.

His life was so empty that there was no one left to bury him.

That was a thought so depressing, that it downright ruined the beautiful view in front of him. Gatz sighed. He couldn't even find it within himself to enjoy a vacation anymore. And if he couldn't enjoy himself, then he might as well stop wasting time, and get back to doing something productive.

He dug his commlink out of his pocket, "prep the ship Arfour, we're cutting our vacation short."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | Take a break and relax.

Jenn was... something of a familiar sight, to those who kept an eye out for Mandalorian presence on Scarif.

Although she was often seen disappearing over the horizon in her Xandu, left to her peaceful solitude beneath the waves, the Alor of Clan Kryze made a point to relax in a more orthodox manner every now and then. Because of the historical ties between Scarif and the Mandalorians, people gave her odd looks at worst here, rather than at best. And with the Enclave coming to their aid to handle a containment breach in the wake of the successful raid on the Alliance's worlds, the planet's government was more than thankful.

No, people did not hate her here. Some might even regard her as a warrior-hero, as she so desperately longed to be recognized as. But, to the staff of the planet's many resorts, she was a familiar enough sight that they knew her by name - and known to tip rather generously, too. Although mindful of her privacy, she was a surprisingly pleasant patron of their establishments

Of course, Jenn felt no need to let the staff know that she had purchased a majority stake in one of those resorts. The siren hardly came to Scarif to be put under a spotlight, after all. So, as far as the people there were concerned, she was merely a VIP.

"Thank you, Tama", spoke the Alor as she took the drink offered to her with a slight cant of her head. There was nothing quite like a Sea Nymph - most had no idea of just what the drink was, picking it because it sounded intriguing, if nothing else. The drink glowed the brilliant blue green of the tropical seas of Scarif topped by white caps: and the taste left most patrons rather befuddled. Although most could agree that it was refreshing, the vast majority thought it to be a soft drink, unaware of the true purpose behind it.

A discrete means for Jenn to let other Ersansyr know of who owned the establishment. With barely any alcohol inside, her kind could knock back a few drinks in peace, without having to worry about the notoriously poor alcohol tolerance of their people.

The bartender shot her a wink, which she answered with a playful little fingergun, before walking on over to the beach... and practically crushing the glass in her hand when she found her gaze resting on none other than Gatz Derrevar.

The self-righteous bastard.

"You're like gum on a shoe, aren't you?" asked the Mandalorian cooly as she sat down next to him, keeping her gaze to the waves rather than the repentant smuggler.

​

Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

The sound of Jenn's voice merely got a slight turn of his head.

Maybe his reaction should have been more... animated. Maybe he should have been furious. Or afraid. Maybe he should have been sad to see a friend who was, most likely, no longer a friend. But Gatz was merely dull. Like an empty vessel, lacking any sort of spirit. Jenn being here probably wasn't a good thing for him, but at least it meant he wasn't alone for a few moments.

"You're like gum on a shoe, aren't you?"

"And you should be glad," his voice was flat, lacking all emotion, "you'd be a frozen corpse, floating in space, if not for me."

Leaving Ryloth, he'd been so angry that a part of him had wished he'd left her on that ship. But time had cooled his righteous rage. Jenn stood with murderers—child murderers—but something had occurred to him in the time since they'd parted ways: if Valery, for whatever reason, bombed a civilian target, would he have had the strength to step away from her? Would pulling children from rubble be enough for him to abandon Briana?

He didn't think so. Family was family, and for a man with no family, the few bonds he did have were all that more important to him. The Mandalorians were Jenn's family. He didn't condone what they'd done. He wanted nothing to do with them. But he couldn't hate Jenn for clinging onto them.

If she had been part of the attack on Ukatis, then that was different. He could hate her for that. But he couldn't hate her for loving her people.

"I didn't like how we parted ways, last time," there was more emotion in him this time, a fleeting sense of regret.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | Chat up a scoundrel.

Jenn didn't turn to look his way. No, the Mandalorian kept her gaze to the sea... and when she brought a hand to her helmet, the hiss of depressurization was not followed by her removing it. The siren merely slid it right above her lips, as a devout follower of the Way of the Mandalore would, and took a sip from her drink. As ever, it was refreshing, and, combined with the sight before her, a certain sense of tranquility washed over her, even as she pondered on what she should do with the interloper.

"And you would be a bloated corpse at the bottom of a lake, if not for me", fired back the siren. "I no longer owe you a life debt. We are even." And, clearly, that was that for her. Oh, she could tell him about the nature of war, how collateral damage was inevitable, no matter how hard anyone tried to keep their strikes surgical, or how she stood against the Crusade as a Protector: since the last time they had met, she had become Alor of her Clan, and although they were still building up after a long period of decline, her influence could not be denied.

But, frankly, she was tired of wasting her time with people unworthy of it. And Gatz's demeanor left her with no doubt as to how he would answer to her rational and honest attempt to explain things to him.

"Yes, one of my friends hurling insults at me was not how I expected to be repaid for saving his life", answered the Mandalorian cooly. At least he sounded sorry. Not that it made up for what he had done. Not by a long shot.

Another sip of her drink, to allow herself to drift back towards the tranquility of the sea, and not the turmoil she felt whenever she looked at him.

​

Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"You're the one who punched me into the lake!"

There it was: he was angry again. Jenn might not have been the one who had tied the cinderblock around his ankle, but she was the reason he'd fallen in. It was her blow that had forced him down against the old rickety dock so harshly that the wood had cracked. She was the reason the block had slipped into the water, and taken him with it. And she still thought he owed her?

"I saved you from bleeding out after someone else stabbed you! You saved me from drowning after you were the reason I was drowning in the first place!" The coconut in his hand crunched under the pressure of the Force, his anger fueling him, "I don't believe in debts these days, Jenn, but if I did we would most definitely not be even!"

Gatz felt the fury flowing through him. That wasn't right. Anger was natural for anyone, but it was also dangerous for Jedi—for anyone connected to the Force. So he stopped himself. He'd made enough mistakes to last a lifetime, he didn't need to make any more. He sucked in a deep breath, and let it out as an irritated sigh.

"You tried to murder me." His voice was much calmer now, "and I'm supposed to thank you for having a change of heart?"

How arrogant. She wanted to be praised because she chose not to do something shitty? That wasn't how life worked. He chose not to be shitty every day, and had continued to do so ever since he'd met Valery. But he didn't get praised for that, nor should he!

You did the right thing, to do the right thing. Not for accolades.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | Chat up a scoundrel.

"I would have gotten you off the hook if you'd only refrained from insulting us", answered the Mandalorian icily. Nothing seemed to be capable of perturbing her calm, sipping as she was from that colorful drink of hers-

Until he crunched the coconut in his hand, and her helmet suddenly snapped to face him, the Y visor betraying nothing of her expression. Untrained as she was, Jenn knew when to rely on her Force Sense... and the sheer anger she felt from him as he used his gift was enough for her to start strategizing on how to kill him in but a moment if he tried to hurt her. A knuckle plate vibroblade right through the throat was quick and efficient, and given the distance between them, completely within the realm of possibility. Perhaps burning him to a crisp if her tried to Force Choke her?

There was no anger from her, even as she began to meticulously plan out his execution. Emotions were entirely separate from battle strategy, doubly so when it came to fighting Force Sensitive individuals: if they looked into her mind, she needed to offer them only calm, lulling them into a false sense of security as she closed in for the kill.

Even though Gatz managed to calm himself down, there was no missing how she stared at him, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. No response came from her: either because she had none... or because that display of his left her afraid.

​

Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"I ran my mouth, I admit. But you know insults aren't justification for killing someone, right?" Gatz took a drink out of his ruined coconut, "you do that on any civilized planet, and you get tried for murder."

Look, Gatz wasn't saying that he'd made the best decision that day. He'd thought he was already a dead man, so he figured he'd at least go out with a righteous last stand. If he had to die, he could at least spit in the face of his killers, instead of cowering and begging for a mercy that wouldn't come. He'd pushed them into making their final decision, but they had mostly already decided before that.

Could Jenn have bailed him out? Probably. But she had started her speech to the Mandalorians by condemning him. Of course he thought he was screwed!

Gatz didn't miss the way Jenn tensed up, waiting for an attack that wasn't coming. She was in full beskar, with all her armaments. He was in swim trunks and a t-shirt. Maybe if he'd been as strong as Valery, that wouldn't have been a problem. But even if he had been, Gatz had no intent of fighting the Mandalorian. A Jedi used the Force for knowledge and defense.

Never attack.

And, frankly, if she was going to kill him anyways... well, there was nothing he could do about it. So, instead of worrying or planning his escape, he just took one last sip of his half-crushed coconut drink. But... if he had to die anyways, he didn't want to die with some things unsaid.

"I'm sorry for what I said to you that day. I was... upset after seeing Ukatis. It's hard to hold a child's limp body, and not be affected by it."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | Chat up a scoundrel

​

"Shows how little you know of my people, then", came the Mandalorian's answer, her words filled with anger as she spoke. "You came to a world of the Mandalorian Enclave - a world where my kin are harried by rebel cells constantly, fighting a war of attrition where a single slip up gets innocent people killed. And then, you called me, and them, child murderers. And you thought they would let you live? You thought I would let you live, had you not saved my life? This isn't Naboo. Hell, this isn't Nar Shaddaa, either. This is Wild Space - Mandalorian Space."

Who did this man think he was, to lecture her incessantly? To think himself better than her? Every single time she headed out of Enclave space, Jenn found herself given a choice: to try and change people's perceptions of Mandalorians, or to reinforce them. After many, many instances of doing the former, the Alor found it more and more difficult not to indulge in the latter. Perhaps her people were meant to be feared. Perhaps the reputation prized by bounty hunters and mercenaries among them was more important than the fickle perception of the weak, so easily swayed and fooled.

As Alor of her Clan, as a Mandalorian, and a Force Sensitive individual, Jenn was not allowed to lose control. The ramifications would be too dire for those she cared about.

Why, then, did the Galaxy seek to test her so? Scarif was her home, a place where she could rest and recuperate. But now, even that peace was taken from her. The smith could hardly wait for the Enclave to finally claim that world for its own, and thus give her a reason to respond far more harshly to any intruders.

When Gatz apologized for his actions, some of the tension bled away from the Mandalorian, her gaze returning to the ocean as she took a long, greedy gulp of her Sea Nymph. Her murderous intent slowly evaporated... for now. For all of her misgivings, she could not find it in herself to strike down a man so clearly unarmed, Force Sensitive or not. And when the sheer release brought about by that kill would finally fade, Jenn would be left with nothing but shame. So, she swallowed all of that pent-up anger of hers, gritting her teeth as she gave but a nod.

"Apology accepted."

​

Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Your people bombed a civilian target, unprovoked. Many children died. That makes them murderers."

She was furious... but Gatz just didn't have it in him to care. If she wanted to defend monsters, then fine. There was no changing her point of view, and Gatz had no intention of dragging out another long debate where Jenn was clearly in the wrong, and yet argued as if she was sitting on a high horse. Her people had attacked unprovoked. Her people had bombed a civilian target.

His apology was accepted, and that was nice. But Gatz wasn't sure if it mattered in the end. He had given up on neutrality the moment he'd woken up on the lake's shore. If the Mandalorians were killing relief workers—which was technically what he was at the time—over some mean words, then the Mandalorians were a threat that would plunge the galaxy into Chaos. The Alliance, for all its many flaws, had to come out on top.

For better or worse, he and Jenn would be on opposing sides.

"Despite everything that's happened, I still think of you as a friend. So it's only right I tell you this now: after my encounter with your people, I no longer intend to stay neutral in this conflict. When I leave Scarif today, I'm going to meet up with Valery Noble . And I'm going to join the Alliance war effort."

Gatz set his crushed coconut drink down on the table next to him.

"Don't take that as a threat. It's not. I just thought you deserved to know."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | And so, something ends.

So it goes.

Jenn finished her drink, before setting it down in the sand, standing up properly this time.

"This is war", she spoke oh-so coldly. "Surgical strikes have a margin of error, even with the targeting systems we have. People always get caught in the crossfire. But Mandalorians do not target children." That was it for her, she knew that much. Gatz would see it all as her dismissing the death of the weak, the helpless, the young. But, even as she spoke the words, the Alor realized that she truly no longer cared. "Maybe you can realize that when you and your Jedi friends storm my home and our foundlings are killed in the crossfire. Or maybe you'll keep on doing whatever Valery tells you is right."

There was no scorn in her voice, but no sympathy nor melancholy either. It was all monotone, as if Jenn was stating off facts, or at the very least, her perception of it. Devoted to truth as she was, the Mandalorian would hardly ever speak something she did not believe in with all of her heart. "Your path is yours to walk, Gatz Derrevar, into glory or obscurity, into honor or disgrace. But know this: if I ever see you again in Mandalorian space, then I will not hesitate to kill you, and anyone who accompanies you."

It was only then that she turned her visor to face him once more. Perhaps he might realize that... Jenn's features would never be revealed to him ever again. The helmet was only meant to be removed in the presence of friends or family - and he had now marked himself as an enemy.

"I know your heart is in the right place", spoke the Ersansyr softly, a touch of gentleness filtering into her words. "But you are so horribly misguided. I forgive all of your past trespasses against my people, but I will not let you take any of my vode from me."

​

Gatz Derrevar ​

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"A war your people started. A war your people wanted. A war that never needed to happen."

Jenn threatened to kill him then, if he ever trespassed into Mandalorian space again. Gatz didn't take any offense to that. He was, literally, telling her that he was going to take up arms against her people. Frankly, not killing him then and there was actually rather reasonable of her, considering that the Mandalorians were prone to committing atrocities in their spare time.

"I hope it doesn't come down to that," Gatz admitted, "us storming your worlds, and killing your children. I don't want this war at all."

He hoped the Mandalorians would realize that they were being stupid, and fighting a pointless war. He hoped peace would be forged soon. But he wasn't naïve enough to believe that this could be solved so soon, and with words. The Mandalorians were winning, at the moment. They weren't going to sit down and talk peace.

Not until they were on the backfoot. And even then, most would fight to the end. Such was their 'honor.'

"But your people struck first," Gatz turned to walk away, "whatever happens to them now, is their own fault."

His vacation was over. Gatz didn't believe that Jenn would change her mind and strike him down now, but he didn't think it was worth the risk to stay around and find out. So he stalked away from the beach, back in the direction of the resort, and his ship.

"Farewell, Jenn Kryze. May the Force be with you."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

| Location | Scarif
| Objective | And so, something ends.

"A war declared by the Galactic Alliance against the Mandalorian Enclave. A war that resulted from the meddling of the Jedi in matters well beyond their jurisdiction. A war you chose."

If Gatz thought she would let him have the last word, he was wrong. Even now, she felt... so very detached. He was no longer the kind-hearted pilot she regarded as a lost soul in need of a hand, in need of the Light. No, the man before her was a threat, now: someone with the potential to sneak into Mandalorian space to supply Rebel cells with information, supplies, or military support. A good thing, then, that her visor footage would allow her to get a bounty poster set up by the Guildmaster for him at some point in the future. After all, just because her bounty hunter days were over hardly meant that others would not take the opportunity. Perhaps she might talk Karima into it.

"And we will strike last, make no mistake. You've already lost. You lost when you made it a war against everything that we are. When you proved that you hold us all in contempt, and cannot wait to scatter us across the stars once more, and trample over our ways. And for that, Gatz, I will fight until my last breath, and so will the rest of my Clan." A promise, rather than a threat, delivered calmly, free of the spite one might expect. It all came to her as easily as breathing.

"I would wish you luck, but luck is a delusion held by the weak to excuse their failure. Instead, I will advise you to train for war, and fight well."

​

Gatz Derrevar ​