The Redeemer
| Location | Ukatis
| Objective | Remember
The fire was all but gone from Jenn Kryze's heart.
The misery of failure had all but smothered it. The indefatiguable sense of purpose faded. The Kryz'alor could only look on in pain at all that was lost. Oh, she had spent the lives of her New Mandalorians, in the liberation of Onderon, the defense of Coruscant, the assault on Echnos, the battle of Tython. All of it, she now realized, wasted. What gains had they made? Coruscant had fallen, and the Galactic Alliance was dying, a death she had foreseen enough to pull back from fair Onderon, a planet she had so dearly wanted to set down roots on. It seemed her detractors had been right; to stand alongside the aruetiise had won her nothing but dead followers. The others had left, upon her fall into this profound melancholy of hers, leaving but the most loyal around her. Sometimes, lucidity brought her disgust - disgust at how she held on to the title of Alor, one she felt she no longer deserved, yet refused to let go of.
Jenn be aliit Kryze was tired. Tired of the endless cycle of it all. Tired of seeing her people fail and fall. Tired of the endless hatred of the Galaxy against them. It was all too easy, for her to keep skirting the very edges of known space, seeking tranquility on uninhabited world where she could grieve all that could have been. Sometimes, however, the wanderlust returned, if only for her to revisit past failures. To let those worlds who had shaped her journey blow their judgement against the cerulean beskar she called her second skin.
Ukatis was as she remembered it - which is to say, poorly. A world defined, in her eyes, by bloodshed. A world she had never heard of before the time had come to lay it low - try as she might to admonish her,
Karrys
often told her of the dogfights fought over its capital, and how the Bes'kyrade had dominated the skies, in the days of the Mandalorian Enclave, now but a remnant of what it once was. Many were the eyes turned her way as she walked the surface of that world, the fear of the T visor still ingrained within them, and one she no longer cared to combat. Let them look, let them fear, let them hate. She was here to revisit the site of the great battle fought between Crown and Rebels, letting the rain wash over her as she held a spear in hand, gazing at the sky, immobile. Droplets of water against her visor.
Karrys
often told her of the dogfights fought over its capital, and how the Bes'kyrade had dominated the skies, in the days of the Mandalorian Enclave, now but a remnant of what it once was. Many were the eyes turned her way as she walked the surface of that world, the fear of the T visor still ingrained within them, and one she no longer cared to combat. Let them look, let them fear, let them hate. She was here to revisit the site of the great battle fought between Crown and Rebels, letting the rain wash over her as she held a spear in hand, gazing at the sky, immobile. Droplets of water against her visor.
Even the memory of absolute power could not rouse her from the depths of her own mind, how she had called down rain upon this battlefield, sent thunder unto her very palm, felt it sear and destroy her, yet another test of might before she could redirect it and annihilate all those who stood before her! But now, naught but silence. Silence and devastated earth to remind all of what had unfolded.
"Was it folly, to grant supplies to these people? To return to aid them? The folly of kindness..."
