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Dominion Old Wounds | SJO Dominion of Eshan


Eshan is a planet that has seen its fair share of turmoil in the past few years. The capital, Eshan City, bears the brunt of the devastation that was left by the occupation attempts of the Mandalorian Empire. From massive monsters tearing through the streets to a capital ship dead dropping into the heart of the populace—the scars of an orbital bombardment can still be seen. The world was left with a great wound, a great darkness, and restoration efforts continue to this day. The triumph of the Echani people, at the aid of CIS, was hard-fought and bittersweet. It stole homes, claimed lives, and has forever reshaped the surface of a proud and stalwart civilization.

Yet—When the smoke cleared, the Mandalorians left, and Eshan was once again able to claim sovereignty. The Echani people are once again in control of their homeworld. Though their capital had been shattered, left in ruins, they choose to persevere.

SJO seeks to come offer aid to the healing capitol. There is a schoolyard in an outer district that the community had lacked funds to raise back up. With the supplies donated by SJO, the community plans to regather there and work through the mess piece by piece. Together.

In exchange for SJO’s efforts, an Echani instructor has offered to coach their willing padawans through some Echani fighting forms.

Objective 1: Class on Echani style of fighting from a resident themself. There you will get to square off with your peers, learn the Echani language of fighting, and maybe even glimpse a little Echani culture!

Objective 2: Restoration assistance of a schoolyard. It’s got rocks and stuff. Probs a body or two. Is sads. Much reflection on war.

Object 3: A community garden has been erected across the street. It serves as a place to pay respect to those lost. Each plant was placed by someone who had lost another. You may add to the garden if you wish.

OOC Details
The Echani are a Near-Human species from the Inner Rim planet Eshan. The Echani have similar anatomy to that of humans, but with light skin, white hair and silver eyes

Echani culture holds the belief that to know one fully, you must fight them. Echani fighting was not only self-defense, but a form of self-expression, a means of communication similar to art.

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The day was one hard fought.

When the Sith closed his eyes, he could remember the sting of shrapnel buried into his arm. The dull thud of his armor - cracked and broken - as he continued to ride his Bes'uliik. The battle of Eshan was the opening salvo of a long conflict with the ill-led Mandalorian people. They had lauded themselves as butchers. Praised the slaughter unleashed upon Eshan and those the Confederacy held dear. It was on Eshan that the onslaught was finally interrupted. But peace was not free. Peace did not come without blood.

Of the destructive battle, literal monstrosities were unleashed by the enemy. Gargantuan wyrms which ravaged the city streets. Moreover, a Star Destroyer careened from the battle above and crashed down onto the planet's surface. So many perished in that instant. Many more were injured. And still - the Echani people and their Confederate allies fought on. The Mandalorian scourge was ousted from Eshan; but now came the time to heal a world once broken. When word reached the Confederacy of the Silver Mission to Eshan, Darth Metus had to be there.

If not for anything else, for her sake.

Though he had not grown up on Eshan, he knew the way as if it were written on the back of his hand. He was guided by a silent river - a bond which ran betwixt Master and Apprentice. Memories. Emotions. Power. All flowed freely between Darth Metus and his alabaster charge. And as they arrived upon the planet's surface, old memories danced before his mind's eye. Glimpses of a childhood long since gone. Flashes of days spent meticulously training. And above all else, a grim recollection of the battle itself.

Their pace towards the memorial garden was slow. She set the pace, after all, and this had been her home. Darth Metus said nothing all the while, but reached out with his unburdened hand. Like so often in the past, his fingertips simply brushed upon the side of her arm. The gesture was simple. The meaning was deafening. They carried on, until they arrived where many blossoms had already been planted into the earth. The Sith had selected a pair of orchids and held their vessel carefully within his grasp.

For it was not just those lost on Eshan that he was remembering. She'd know who. They both did. They would remember that light that never saw the Eshan sky.

Tag: Srina Talon Srina Talon


Mig Gred

Alor of Clan Gred, Mando'ad'jetii
Objective 2:

This was hard for Mig, and any Force User nearby would know it. His mind... it went back to when the Mandalorians had come to Eshan. He and some clan mates had just come as a way to remember the first of their clan, and Echani himself.... How that changed. The embassy explosion, Kaine's bombardment, his cousin..., that darkness that he felt. All the death.... It was way more than a mess, but Mig didn't know what to call it. He pulled off his helmet as he looked at the old embassy sight.

"I hope I'm doing you, Ilik, and Buir proud, Ordas." He got plenty of looks from Echani, but the Mandalorian just ignored them. He just put on his helmet and walked over to the school yard he was going to help rebuild. He would be there waiting for the others.
Jedi Accountant
Objective 2: Schoolyard restoration
Allies: SJO

Although Griet was, at the time, just getting started in building the accounting practice on Orto Plutonia, today, the real reason she came to Eshan was not so much because of respects to pay but to track down a ring of mortgage fraudsters affiliated with the Children of the New Order. That crime ring hit on Faldos, Pantora, Isis and now more victims were located on Eshan. In fact, planets that were undergoing extensive reconstruction efforts were vulnerable to "straw-buyer" mortgage fraud schemes where a straw buyer is tricked into co-signing a mortgage for the post-reconstruction value of a property, while the collateral is actually worth only the pre-reconstruction value, with the perpetrators pocketing various cuts of the difference. And the school in question was a victim of such a fraud when the new administrators of the school received a notice of repossession. Ouch: not only these fraudsters targeted vulnerable homeowners, they also targeted vulnerable, cash-strapped institutions! she thought, before meeting with the administrators in question to discuss the matter of the mortgage on the school.

"We have never seen construction crews on-site until today, and yet the mortgage money was supposed to have been disbursed by now, to pay for the reconstruction efforts! At the time we believed it was a good idea to borrow beyond what funds could have been provided to help us rebuild the school, because these funds weren't nearly enough to rebuild it to its old condition!" a distraught administrator told Griet, after more victims come forward. "We thought co-signing the loan would be a good idea so that we wouldn't shoulder the burden of debt alone!"

"Maybe you could provide some clues as to the co-signer that would help us identify the co-signer"

"The co-signer was a female human, or some Near-Human, that wore black robes, she seemed to be rather young as well, and she had yellow eyes, as if she was wearing some technological contact lenses"
Friend To All
Objective 1

The Echani culture was always interesting to Reggie, always something that he intended on learning more about. The Padawan preferred to have first hand experience when learning about other cultures, seeing for himself what it was like and learning from the locals. Sometimes obtaining the information from a book or datapad was effective when learning, but usually not as effective as being there and experiencing what it's like. That was especially true in this case. No book would help him learn the Echani fighting style, no where near how having someone teach it would be. Even if he could, it wouldn't be the same. the essence of it, the belief that it's a form of self-expression, wouldn't be intact if he could learn from a different source. He wouldn't get that meaning.

Reggie wouldn't let this opportunity pass. Not only was it a good way to learn more about the Echani, but it would also help him improve his defensive skills. The Padawan needed to improve in order to protect those in need, especially now. He had recently saw the horrors of war and it had almost broke him. He was sad that Eshan had also seen those horrors, and probably more than once. He would help with restoration assistance if time allowed.

The Padawan arrived to the area wearing simple clothes as he usually did. The only way others would probably know he was a Jedi would be the two lightsabers hanging on his belt, and possibly the staff that he carried with him.
Objective: 3
Peeps: Darth Metus . Darth Metus . Kyra Perl Kyra Perl
Location: Eshan gardens

Kat breathed out slowly, nerves were hitting her hard. She was returning home. Home. Kat hadn't seen Eshan since the invasion and the disaster that occurred there, the destruction of her home city, the lost of her family. It was almost too much to bear, she couldn't breath when she thought about the fact that she was going home to say goodbye. Finally lay to rest her brothers, her brother-in-law, the family she lost to the Mandalorians. As she stepped off the ship that brought her in from Kashyyyk, Kat walked at her own pace. Walking slower and slower, closer to the garden the slower her steps became, the reality of what she would face there when Kat arrived.

Shaking her head, no, no she couldn't do it. They couldn't go, they were family, they promised to always be there for her! What happened to helping her to become an expert Echani fighter! "No. No, they aren't dead! They can't be dead! I don't want to say goodbye, they promised to teach me everything they knew! Why did they die?!" Kat cried, tears running down her cheeks, she wasn't ready. But then would she ever be ready to say goodbye to her brothers at such a young age. They died young and fought to the end. Kat and her family were told what brave soldiers they were and how her brother-in-law was brave and honourable in his sacrifice to their leaders. But Kat didn't care, they shouldn't have died! They should be here with her!

Why did they abandon her?! Why did they leave her all alone and without instruction on what to do next?!
Objective: ?

Kyra squirmed uncomfortably from outside the Garden walls, the little empath unable to bring herself a step deeper in.

Pain. Loss. Remorse. Her chest burned with the feelings that weren't hers. Tears streamed freely down her face, Kat's words making their way to her mind despite the distance she had kept.

Shit friend she was, staying out here. But already her skin was chilled and damp to the touch. She had never known true loss in her life. Not unless you counting watching siblings move out and not come back. That pain of abandonment felt silly and small compared to the loss ravaging her friend's chest. Yula was still alive. She could see Nida this week. For the first time she questioned her own response to her family's absence in her life.

At least they weren't dead?

Another wave of grief hit Kat and Kyra took a staggering step back. Away from the garden. Away from her friend. Away from responsibility. This planet was a downer. She let out a gasping breath and turned to leave. She needed a distraction.

Clearing rubble would do.
Objective 2

It had been a long time since Ezekiel had been to Eshan. He was young then, still with the Breaker crew in those days. It had changed so much since then, the battle that had taken place here completely changing it. The operative hoped to help with it's restoration effort and help Eshan regain some of what it's lost. It was sad to see what state it was in though. No schoolyard should have the echos of war left in it's wake. With his photographic memory, he remembered how this area used to look. That fact only made it worse to look upon it now.

Ezekiel turned his eyes away from the sight for a moment, getting a good look at the person who had gotten here before him. Was that...Mandalorian armor? Awkward. And that was probably an insensitive thought. The operative pushed the thought away in his mind. Seemed like it was only them for now.

Mig Gred Mig Gred
ᴡᴀʀ'ꜱ ᴄᴜꜱᴛᴏᴅɪᴀɴ

Eshan had been a Major Victory.
For the Bryn'adûl. For truth. For strength.

When the Red Titan walked among the ashes of any desolate world, engulfed in fire and smoke of his Children's making; he was fondly reminded of that pivotal day. Mandalorians, so easily provoked to War - raining down plasmatic fire on the innocent. The schemes of the Chieftain unbeknownst to those who'd later fight in the name of justice, home and honour.

So quickly they tore each other down, the Empires of the Galaxy turning their weapons on the Mandalorian's Homeworld shortly thereafter and without as much as a finger lifted one great foe was wiped clean off the face of the Galaxy. One less Empire. It had not all been luck, Tathra had been fortunate that events shaped how they did. But it was the nature of this Galaxy to be weak, and their Destiny to Fall.

The Bryn'adûl would continue to prosper, building great Creations of War from the righteous destruction left in their wake. Their War continued unchecked in Deep Space. But now, in this moment of quiet rumination, Tathra thought back on the fall of Eshan. The desertion and eventual betrayal of the Heretic Grosck, the Servitor's sinkholes swallowing whole Battalions. The descent of the Destroyer and its obliteration of the Capital.

Tathra had risen from the wreckage, walking amidst the fire and smoke. The sky had grown dark, the City quiet as those who remained suffered through the aftermath of the Destroyer. So many had died. Droid, Clone, Mandalorian, Confederate - they'd fallen in the thousands. But yet the planet lived on, the Genocide was left incomplete. Many had survived, forever scarred by Warfare of their worst Nightmares. A inevitable war that none who dared to remain in his Galaxy would survive.

That would not always be the case however, this Galaxy was on borrowed time. Eshan included.

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Jedi Accountant
Objective 2: Schoolyard Restoration
Allies: SJO

"Any idea of who the appraiser(s) hired by the co-signer are?"

"The co-signer took care of the mortgage's paperwork: all we had to do was to wait for the money to come and then we could start rebuilding the school"

I have an idea for attempting to catch these fraudsters affiliated with the Children of the New Order, perhaps red-handed: I just need to pretend I'm in the market for buying a property for building an accounting practice on Eshan and that I need a mortgage to get the office's premises built, Griet thought, with, of course, a few questions for the suspect, especially for the appraisers. Especially if the suspect matches the description made by the victims on Isis and on Eshan. For the time being, she started shopping around for offers of co-signing mortgages, hoping that one of them would lead her to the suspect. Now, just because someone wore black robes and had yellow eyes didn't make someone a prime candidate for the dark side, and sometimes with fish nets on the legs far from it; it was just part of the stereotypical image people held of female dark-siders. It was just the nature of the beast: she needed to also shop around for commercial properties in poor condition with the intent to rebuild it, which she could actually have, unlike the suspected co-signer of all these fraudulent mortgages.

Khonsu Amon

Supreme Sun Guardian

The Battle of Eshan was a moment of bittersweet pride for the Thyrsian Sun Guard. Although they ultimately claimed victory against their cultural rivals and the vile beasts that were aligned with the now Fallen Empire, countless Thyrsian lives were lost before the Twin Suns banner was raised before the Sundered Palace.
It was a terrible tragedy that spiralled out of control through the actions of an overzealous few. The Echani Compact - an ancient and insidious organization that was now scattered to the solar tides - once laid claim to the world of Thyrsus, enslaving the populace and exploiting the planet’s resources. While the Nobles of the Echani Command sought to blissfully ignore the actions of their darker kin, several individuals sought to revel in the spoils of enslavement. Who could refuse a coterie of allegedly inferior warriors to test their mettle against?
Nevertheless, as more and more Thyrsians were forcibly imported to Eshan’s surface, countless Desertborn found themselves slaughtered in a local dispute - or callously annihilated from orbit by a Mandalorian cruiser. What made matters worse, was that their fallen kin were left to rot within the streets of the City - whilst the Mandalorian Empire proclaimed acknowledgement of the Thyrsus’ sovereignty. The Sun Guard couldn’t stomach such flagrant displays of disrespect for the bodies of their fallen, nor could they let the countless lives lost out of combat go unanswered.
Blood would have blood.

It was the motto that governed, and ultimately galvanized the Sun Guard’s cause. Dozens of Thyrsian Warbands rallied around their newest Supreme Sun Guardian and charged forth into the fray. Gilded Starships fought alongside their acquaintances within the Confederate States as they collectively tore into the ever-dwindling Mandalorian Armada. Repulsortanks, alongside mechanized Cohorts of Sun Guards, took to the streets of the Capital - laying claim to portions of the City as they fought to recover their honoured dead.
When the Battle of Eshan concluded, and the spoils of war were claimed by the victors, the Gilded Warhost turned their collective eyes towards their enslaved Homeworld. They sought to honour the memories of the fallen, and undo the failures of their ancestors. Thus, the newly ordained Supreme Sun Guardian launched the First Thyrsian Crusade to reclaim his people’s star system, and wholly slaughter those that held Thyrsus’ leash. Their push into that long-forgotten sector of space saw the Golden Company achieve both of their goals. After several decades of brutal oppression, Thyrsus was finally free.
Khonsu aimed to keep it that way. So, when the man heard that the Silver Jedi sought to expand their influence into the Sector of the Six Sisters - a conclave of sorts was needed to clarify this awkward situation. His mercenaries committed many alleged crimes against various worlds and battalions that swore themselves to the Silver Order, and there was a possibility that they’d desire retribution. It wasn’t the Jedi way, but there were more than just Warrior-monks within the Order. Who knew what shrouded machinations were at play.
Nevertheless, the Thyrsian Warlord sent a cordial invitation to the powers that supposedly existed within the enigmatic Jedi Order. He wished to learn more of their Silvered Fellowship and believed the best way to do so was to meet face to face. Should they deign to accept his request, they would be gratefully hosted aboard the 'Guerdon' - a Thyrsian Battlecruiser that currently resided at the Hierarchy’s stellar boundary.

To whom it may concern.​
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Objective: 3 - Greive
Peeps: Kyra Perl Kyra Perl Darth Metus . Darth Metus .
Location: Outside the gardens.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Kyra stepping away, bubbling under the surface Kat was fuming, how dare she leave Kat! How could she call herself a friend and then not be there to console her! Kat needed someone right now and her only friend was walking away because it wasn't pleasant. Of course it wasn't pleasant, death wasn't going to be!

"Go! Why come here if you're just going to leave Kyra?! Just go!" Kat spat at her friend, unable to contain her emotions right now. "Not like I need someone to help me or be there for me as a friend right now! Not like I've been there for you when you needed help!" Kat continued to shout, so angry, so upset that her friend wouldn't be there for her.

Tears streamed down her face. "Leave just like everyone else I cared about has! I clearly don't need you!"
The Broken
Objective: 2?
Location: Outside the Schoolyard
Equipment: Durasteel Cane, Redemption, Right Arm
Wearing: (This)
Tag: Kyra Perl Kyra Perl
As his Firespray touched ground on Eshan the Grey Jedi made his way to the boarding ramp of his ship. Kirwin hadn’t even made it off the ship when his right knee buckled on itself, “Blasted thing!” He said harshly as he caught himself by grabbing onto the side of the ship. The man was only thirty years old, but at times he felt well over eighty, and that was old enough to acquire battle scars and injuries that don’t always heal properly and today an old injury was deciding to act up. Maybe it had been the long trip through hyperspace, he wasn’t sure. But the use of his cane was a must today, reaching out with his left hand Kirwin called upon the Force, willing his walking stick to his hand. A few seconds later his hand closed around the cool black metal of his cane.

“We meet again, old one.” He said as if meeting an old acquaintance, not someone he was fond of, but someone he was very close to. Switching the cane from his left to his right hand the metal clicked as it met his metallic right hand, before clicking on the durasteel ramp. “On we go,” Kirwin said, making his way to the training grounds. His vow still stood, he would try to mend the galaxy by any means necessary, even if it was helping to rebuild a training facility for a recent war-torn planet. The Jedi Knight made his way past the rubble and various debris on his way stopping every once in a while, to move a large object or two out of the road and into a more convenient place for others to easier traverse the road he was walking.

Eventually, he made it to the training grounds and looked upon the disaster that had been left by the Mandalorian Empire. The sight saddened him, a small flicker of anger rose deep within himself at the thought of a governing faction allowing their subjects to be left in such chaos and ruin. But the spark of anger was quickly quelled by the waters of understanding as he did not know the details of the timeline of events that had led to this current situation. The anger he had felt but a moment earlier was voiced by what sounded like a young woman lashing out in desperation and anger. He turned his head to see a young woman with dark red hair walking across the street, she appeared to have been crying. Was that where the graves had been dug? Why put them so close to a place to train the youth? The young woman was none of his business, she most likely had been crying for a lost friend or possibly relative. But he couldn’t keep himself from calling out to her, “Is everything alright miss?”

Location: Gardens
Tag: Darth Metus . Darth Metus . | Kat Decoria Kat Decoria | Eira Talon Eira Talon

Silver eyes took in the sight of her birthplace. Eshan.​
Srina could feel color rushing back to her vision. The sights, the sounds, and even the smells that accompanied their first steps from the Ferocity triggered memories that would never fade. Some were treasured moments of her childhood. She could remember the lilac scent of her mother’s hair when she moved. The sight of her father trying to teach her only brother how to hold a sword properly.​
Her sisters. Her beautiful, beloved sisters, who were the strongest she knew. Even though Tellu and Valina had passed she still saw their faces in the water. Heard their voices in the air.​
The wintry warrior had returned home many times since the Mandalorian Empire had first set foot on the sovereign soil. The reason for her distance had been killed in the chaos. Now, her only concerns lay within her relationship to the Confederacy. They had many friends. Many enemies. Her presence ran the risk of making her homeworld a target, a bargaining chip, and she couldn’t allow it. Her visits were therefore typically clandestine. It could be no other way.​
She moved through the streets with practiced ease. Her heart knew the way through Eshan City regardless of the destruction. The restoration efforts had done wonderfully, however, it would be a long time before it sparkled and returned to its former glory. Each step led her through the battle that had ensued. She could almost see the fighting again. Hear the screams.​
It was the feeling of her Master touching her arm that roused her from what was quickly becoming a nightmare. She wore the colors of her house, blue and white, while remembering that she both represented the Confederacy and Eshan. Formal—But with an edge that would allow her to move. Fight. She always needed to be ready. A pale blue cloak draped about her form. It hid the lightsaber that remained ever-present along her lower spine.​
Mercurial eyes flickered toward Darth Metus. She didn’t need to speak, for this.​
Instead, she let slender fingers brush against his before they interlocked. It was a silent gesture the closed the loop of the conversation he had begun. Her focus returned to the path before them and her expressionless features settled into a mask of pale-perfection. It would be commonplace. She looked just like everyone else. They looked like her.​
Srina hesitated when Metus reached for orchids. Flowers, that seemed so innocent, held a connotation that few would realize. This memorial was for those that had been lost. Specifically, during the battles that had scared Eshan forever, though, none would limit the placement of votives. Her free hand passed briefly over the flat of her stomach before she also picked up a potted winter rose and they moved forward.​
Each plant symbolized life. New life. Respect for the old—and the new.​
So many died. Srina mourned them all. From Echani, Thyrsian, Confederate, Silver. It was all pain. All loss. It had soaked into the ground. Echoes of agony rang in the Force and Srina found herself holding tighter to the hand of her Master. Briefly.​
So many bodies. So many skeletons. Some, still buried beneath the rubble.​
“I sense familiar signatures. Old allies.”, she breathed softly, barely able to be heard. She knew he would always hear her. He always did. Her Master was family. Just as much as any of her white-haired, pale-skinned, blood relations. He had sheltered her, trained her, cared for her when her own family could not. It would be a small recognition for most societies. His Thyrsian-like appearance should have left her kin ill at ease, but, it did not. Srina claimed him as her own. Thus—He was. “We should see my family after we leave. They would wish to see you again.”
She was worried. So many of her siblings had passed. She had several more, a few younger than she, and the ivory-skinned woman wished to ensure they were well. Metus had a way of breaking the ice. Her father found his sense of humor rather amusing whilst her mother constantly questioned his combat abilities. It was…An experience.​
The sound of shouting nearby Kat Decoria Kat Decoria a caught her attention. Her head snapped around like some sort of bird of prey, gaze fierce, and unrelenting. A man swathed in the Light seemed to be trying to approach the hysterical young woman just outside the gardens but silver eyes were already cooling by degrees. “Calm yourself, Padawan. This is a memorial, a place for remembrance, and you would do well to respect the dead enough not to wake them by shouting.”
Heartless. There was no room for mercy or understanding in her tone, but, there rarely was. That was not the difference between the Light and the Dark—but a simple fact that her heart was made of cold iron and wrapped in decorum. There countless members of the community in the area taking comfort in a shared sense of loss. Some wept. None screamed so very disrespectfully at Isil [*moon] knew what.​
Srina did not wait for a response and began to head deeper into the gardens. She would find a peaceful place to pay her respects.​

Eira Talon

Location: Garden
Tag: Srina Talon Srina Talon Darth Metus . Darth Metus .

Srina's note home was a groundbreaking one. Not because it contained any noteworthy news, it was a simple 'I'll be in the area and want to see you guys,' and nothing more or less. No, the ground breaking aspect came from the decision that Eira made after it. Srina's visits home were as infrequent as ... something infrequent.

Eira was never good with putting thoughts to words, a fact which only exasperated her current situation.

She wanted out.

She had never been close with her now-eldest sister. Srinia's work had turned her to stone long before she had fled into hiding. While their other siblings were old enough to grasp a situation in its entirety and place blame where it was appropriately due, Eira had been young. She only understood the fall out of Srina's presence in their lives. There had always been a barrier of unresolved emotions held between them. It wasn't in either of their natures to open up and talk.

That was fine, however. She didn't need to talk to Srina about decade's old occurrences to leave with her. She didn't even need to like her, she just needed to go and train. Her sister owed her that much. To Eira this was all fairly black and white.

Eira tightened her fist around the handle of her duffel bag. In it held everything she held dear. which was to say a few knickknacks and a spare change of clothes. It was practically nothing, but any more and she was sure their mother would have noticed. She was an adult now, you see, but still very much their youngest child.

She couldn't tell their parents what she intended to do. They would only say no, she was sure of it. And that was why she was sent trudging through the schoolyard rubble without them at her side. Srina had meant to come home but Eira would catch her before she had the chance. She sat on a boulder under a tree. Waiting.


Her sister's appearance made her heart erupt in a quick beat. Her stomach swirled in adrenaline, the girl very much aware that she was about to do something naughty as she gathered herself up and slipped after. She would have liked to have approached unnoticed, but she knew her sister and the strange man she traveled with well enough to expect any sneak attempt to fail.

A pity, those were fun.

Instead she strode up to them with all the confidence she could muster jammed into her shoulders. She stopped several feet away, her gaze intense as it landed on the flowers they both had at hand. The blossoms seemed to cut her greeting short. Instead of contact, Eira stood froze. Instead of words, there was only a tense silence. She knew who they were for.

The memories of that day screamed out in her head. They lived fresh inside of her, the reminders of what they had lost impossible to escape. For a moment envy flashed through her, hot and poignant. How nice it must be to place down a gesture and leave this place to be forgotten again. How rich it must be to have the option to forget.

She swallowed past a fiery lump in her throat and looked Srina in the eyes. "Hello, Sister."

And then came the sucker punch.
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Objective.... 2?
Kat Decoria Kat Decoria Kirwin Hass Kirwin Hass

Kat's anger only made Kyra reel further back, the girl's eyes wide as she turned sharply back around to face Kat through the bushes. Kyra had no answer for the girl's accusations, only stunned noises could catch inside her throat.

Now that... wasn't fair...

She couldn't ...

She wheezed for a breath, pain tightening around her chest. Couldn't breath, couldn't think, it was not unlike that time they crashed into the swamp and the chaos of the surrounding padawans had sent her into crumbling into a panic attack.

Oh, a panick attack, warned a voice in the back of her mind. The realization did little to solve the problem, not when the emotions of those around her locked her down so badly.

She stared at Kat with a sense of detached helplessness. Fine. She was a poor friend. She never claimed to be otherwise. She turned, her eyes stinging as she left Kat to the very confusing display. No one won in a moment like this. They would talk later.

A voice called out to her, asking if she was okay. She turned slowly, her gaze pulling to Kirwin Hass Kirwin Hass . Was she okay? She wasn't sure. Kat certainly wasn't, maybe he could go help her.

Kyra wiped at her face and shook her head, a bit of heat filling her cheeks. "You're the one with the cane," came the ill-mannered reply. Kat's anger lingered deeply in her.
Objective: 3 - Grieve
Peeps: Srina Talon Srina Talon Kyra Perl Kyra Perl Darth Metus . Darth Metus .
Location: Outside the garden

Glaring as Kyra left her, staring at the empty space with anguish and such deep sorrow that Kat could barely breath. How could Kyra not see that she needed her friend, that she needed comfort and reassurance. Dropping to her knees, Kat just stared at the ground, ground where her friend was meant to be. Tears were streaming down her face as she heard someone chastise her for shouting, for being unable to face the truth quite yet. The anger was once again boiling inside Kat. "Shut up! You pompous chit!" Kat reacted in anger, not even knowing who she is shouting or cursing at. "My brothers died, died... they left me in charge of my family and I'm a kid!" Why was no one here to help her, where was her Master? Where were her friends? Where was her mother?!

Kat stood and ran away, ran home. Finding herself crossing through the alleyways that she knew all so well, the ruins of her family home. The one that they had before her dad died, before they moved closer to the palace for her sister's work. It was nothing like she remembered, it was smaller, it was decorated differently from what remains of the ruins. Kat sat in the ruins and cried, memories of her brothers sticking up for her and teaching her how to fight. How to fight differently with her cybernetic legs. Her father teaching her how to repair a droid, her brothers joking with her and her sister. This was her home, this was when everything was good and now it was ruined. Her father dead, her brothers murdered.

Mig Gred

Alor of Clan Gred, Mando'ad'jetii
Mig looked over to the operative, sensing a little of his surprise. The Mandalorian just sighed. He knew this would be tricky. "I can sense that surprise on you," he responded simply, letting the man know there was more to him than armor. He looked at everything, seeing that no one else was nearby. He kept his thoughts of his cousin's death in the back of his mind, sighing before looking at the damage. "You may not believe this, but very few of use wanted this. None from my clan as far as I know." Mig slowly used to Force to move some debris, hoping he wouldn't find the worse. He could feel anger welling up somewhere in the distance, but was never good at exacts like where or who.

"There's so much anger still here." Mig stopped, remembering what he had felt both times he was at Eshan before. "Probably be plenty for decades to come."

Ezekiel Breaker Ezekiel Breaker Kat Decoria Kat Decoria
ᴡᴀʀ'ꜱ ᴄᴜꜱᴛᴏᴅɪᴀɴ

Eshan stood now, as an echo of a lie.
A lie the Galaxies inhabitants happily told themselves.

A lie that served the Bryn'adûl. When the skies grew light once more, and the Mandalorian Empire was scattered to the wind - defeated; the Bryn'adûl had completed their objective. In the wake of the ashes, they moved beneath the earth and escaped aboard their Vessels on the other side of the continent. Those who remained, those who believed themselves Victors, those who believed the Bryn'adûl to be allied with the Mandalorians - they acted as instruments of the Titans will.

They, who believed themselves vanquishers of a monstrous foe had, in reality been pawns in a great game beyond their imagining. None could possibly know the beautiful truth. When news came of the Sith attack on Mandalore - all Tathra did was grin wide.

He, Tathra Khaeus was the forerunner of the Mandalorian collapse and the fall of Eshan.
Yet this good work was unfinished, as it would remain for great spans of time. Patience and Determination were required for such Galaxy spanning efforts.

Tathra sat on a large slab, Axe planted in the earth. Gauntlets crossed over his thighs as his hands were clasped together. It was something the Red Titan relished, the purity of the air as a new sun rose over a Planet rebirthed through the cleansing of the filth. Ruminations brought back memory, memory brought pride and righteous reclamation.

Eshan would forever be scarred by what had happened, but that would soon come to pass. But they would never escape the knowledge of how easily they fell upon each other with such ferocity. They could not forget what he had wrought upon them so easily. Yet that was nothing, Eshan was nothing. Tathra looked skyward, to the distant stars. He would have them all, he would kill. Them all.

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Objective: BYOO
Allies: SJO
Tagging: Khonsu Amon Khonsu Amon
Location: Guerdon

Everybody had good and bad days. Sometimes it seemed there were more bad than good and at the moment, Jairdain was having one of those. One shoe was misplaced, her hair would not settle down and behave itself and Sage was mad at her. However, duty called and she was actually looking forward to this meeting.

She had grown up wanting to be a diplomat and consular. Today she was going to get another opportunity to let her colors shine. An invitation had been extended to the Silver Jedi to send a delegation to meet with the Thyrsians and she was the best person for that.

Not that Jairdain had any previous exposure to these people, but that didn't matter too much. On the way to the Guerdon, she had a brief history lesson and an update on the current situation there. Before leaving to meet with the leader, she had found a pair of shoes that would work and a scarf to cover her wayward hair.

Blue always seemed to be a good color for her, so she wore that. Jairdain was not one to dress in any manner familiar to the Jedi, but with her own style. Long skirts and short shirts, normally a veil or scarf was included. At her hip, her lightsaber was clipped, but it wasn't useful to the Master, she was no warrior. Yet, here she was on the way to meet with some.

She showed no fear as she walked off the shuttle that had taken to their Battlecruiser.