Picking Up The Ashes [Druckenwell Aftermath]

[Gilamar Skirata]

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

Old eyes narrowed as his macrobinoculors zoomed in at the center of what seemed to be a dust storm. <Mand'alor!> He heard someone hail him over the coms. He raised his hands as he watched her work, the storm was quick, but far from brutal. As the dust settled his helmet's HUD began blinking as levels of dust contamination in his filters began to lower substantially. The ruins were exposed, another layer. <Mand'alor!!!> A cry came out again, with something faint in the background. The cry of a child?

Jogging in the direction of the hail, his boots left deep prints in the dust below him. Sliding down into what seemed to be a ruined apartment, his helmet's lights automatically activated, dust still thick in the air, the particles floating softly through the beam of his lights. He could hear it clearly now. A baby's wailing, muffled by a air filtration mask. <We found her under this desk after the short storm that lifted the dust from the area.> Taking the child in his arms, tears welled up in his eyes. She looked like his own daughter when she was but a babe. Luckily his helmet's black visor hid this display of emotion from the others. Silence fell on the group. <Sir?>

Snapping back to he looked up from the baby and nodded. <Keep combing for survivors, they may be more here.> The group spread out out and went deeper into the apartments. Setting the child down on the dusty floor for but a moment, the Mand'alor removed the black energy resistant cape from his armor and wrapped up the baby so to block the initial brightness of the outside world from its delicate eyes. Climbing from the wreckage he looked back up to where he had spotted the Jedi Master before. He didn't know if she could see him, but he gave a nod of appreciation before taking the babe to one of the medical tents the Mandalorians had set up.

 

[Dicer]

Day Zero

Dr Malcom Lask returned to his feet tentatively. The dull red emergency lights were still warming up and in the distance he could hear the Hub's generator running.

“Is everyone ok?” he heard someone shout.

“How about: is anyone hurt?” Lask countermanded.

There were a few cries and several of the remaining skeleton crew went to provide aid. The remaining staff had stayed at the Il Avali control centre during the battle to organise the evacuation of any remaining civilians and organise the emergency services personnel who had stayed.

The messages of panic had come through to them just moments before pieces of the shipyards came down on the city.

“What comms do we have?” Lask asked.

“We have cable connections in place, but we've lost sat comms. But...you should see this...”

“What?” Lask asked as he stood over the console of one of the staff members.

“The planet's whole network, its struggling. This is a map of all the routers, look how many are down!”

Lask looked at a display of flashing red, yellow and green interconnected dots. Most of the dots in a band across the centre were red.

“By the Force. They brought the whole shipard down. Someone get out there and get our wireless comms back up. We need to find out what's going on!”

 

[Dicer]

Day Ten

Curtis looked down on the hive of activity beneath them. Finally they had found salvation. They kept to the edge of the trees and watched the shuttles unloading supplies.

“Looks like Protectorate forces?” David said.

“You're right!” someone agreed.

Curtis felt a pang of envy. All too quickly he had become used to leading this group and being the one to make observations. Of course, it wasn't just that. David Janes and the boy had become increasingly close since they had found the survivors. Dicer had been too busy keeping the group alive, his responsibilities hadn't given him enough time to care for the boy.

They had seen shuttles over the past few days, but hadn't been able to attract their attention. So the group had slowly moved away from the deserted city to dwellings outside of the evacuation zone.

“Shall we go and find out what has happened?” Curtis suggested.

There was a mumbling of discontent. They had grown to trust him, but still suspected Omega of causing the mass destruction.

“I'll go and find out what's going on,” Dicer announced and he heading out on his own, soon to would return to being Private Charles of the 5th Eriadu Rifles.s



Day Eleven

The resonant thumping of the repulsors let Dicer know the transport was nearly ready to go. He wore his standard uniform now, the remains of his armour having been discarded. A sling kept his right arm tight to his body.

"There's a good lad," he said as Toby clung to him. He broke from the embrace and ran his hand down the boy's cheek. He wiped his tear-wet thumb dry on his shirt.

"Look, David will look after you now. Looks, what's your full name and I can track you down?"

"Toby Lask, you will find me?"

"I'll try. Once you've found your parents I'll be in touch!" Curtis said quietly. He heard his name shouted in the distance. "Time to go, I've got to get better again, then I'll be helping to rebuild!" He turned and headed for the shuttle.


James and Salia Lask were declared dead seventeen days after the invasion. Their bodies were never recovered.

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

<Affirmative, Our location is [Insert Coordinates here], we are in the remains of a subterannian room of a domicile.> The Besuliik 'said', looking on impassively as it's pilot rambled incessantly. Speaking of the Pilot, Ori seemed at this point to have gotten some measure of wits about her after a few minutes of Rambling, and specifically tunned the Comm unit to a private channel she shared with Canal. "Sorry about that rambling Can'Ika." Ori Said, still sounding a bit out of it but better now "I guess I got my head scrambled by all that went on, did we loose anybody in the crash?" Ori didn't need to ask on how many died, now that her mind was clearing up, she could feel the ever present 'stench' of death and weight it brought to Drukenwell. "In all my years doing the whole Forcer thing, I've never felt anything quite like this..." Ori said, still on the channel "This is a time I envy you and our brothers my love."

 

[B1-883331]

The droid commander unit nodded, and transmitted every location his army had based itself in, including the old Droid refinery. ''Very well, but my orders still stand. I was to secure the old foundry for the Count's corporate usage. We have the necessary deeds in our possession. We will comply with your terms, but humbly request that the Count's rightful proprietary rights are respected.''

[member="HK-36"]

 

[Djorn Bline]

"I'm on it," and sprinted towards the direction. As he ran he was corpses of both genders and different ages whether it he soldiers or civilians. The Confederacy will pay. Including interest. "You don't have to apologize fro screaming, Ori. And I don't know why you envy me. I'm confused." He reached the destination point which wasn't too long or too short. "You might want to watch out. I'm gonna use explosives to get you out of there," the clone said as he and his squad out explosive units where his wife is. "Brace yourselves," and pushed the button which would activate the explosives. He just hoped it wouldn't damage Ori.



[member="Ori'Alor Tal'Verda"]

 

[HK-36]

[member="Eldoc Quasat"], [member="Seanna Vel"]

HK relaxed as Eldoc laid down his gun and then turned around as the Knight passed out on a nearby seat,
"And he is the one that needs a drink."
The droid muttered, holstering his pistol and lightsaber hilt.

"Cuff him and take him to a containment cell, with a force field this time, I have no idea who would put him into a glass cell in the first place but I will have them reprimanded for it. You-"
The droid pointed at his Greycloak Guard,
"You are talking with him when he wakes up."
Greycloak only hanged his head and gave out a metallic groan as he walked over to slap stun cuffs on Eldoc's hands, trapping them behind his back before carrying off the unconscious knight to a detention cell.

HK would turn around, once more, to look at the passed out Seanna, floating peacefully in the tank of blue liquid,
"Get her out of there, wake her up, and bring her some gear, also prepare a shuttle for us to go down onto the surface with another rescue team."
The droid spoke to a nearby guard, the soldier nodded,
"Yessir."

"Damned circus, not a battleship."
The droid repeated from his earlier complaint of Kerrigan shenanigans.


[member="B1-883331"],

HK nodded as he transmitted the coordinates given to him by Threes to the Siege Tower and Leviathan in planet's orbit,
"We will send dropships for pick-up of your troops and wounded. As to the refinery, tell your Count it will be something he has to petition with Lord Protector, I cannot decide how a planet outside of my jurisdiction gets partitioned, or who is allowed, or banned, from doing business on its surface. Communications to him can be relayed from the flagship Leviathan, once he is available."
The droid would extend his hand to Threes for a finalizing handshake,
"Thank you for your cooperation, and may the Force be with you and your soldiers."
Machine said, looking patiently at Threes, the whir of dropships lowering down would soon enough be heard.


[member="Ayden Cater"],
Soon enough Ayden would get a following report,
"Both Eldoc and Kiffu passed out unconscious, Eldoc is being moved to detention level, Kiffu we are waking up to get her down to the planet. The remaining droid army forces of Confederacy have surrendered, they sent us the coordinates of their last posts and bases, and my dropships are on their way to capture them. I believe the negotiations can be classified as successful, the man they claim as their commander, Count Morcus, is part of the Techno-Union, I have seen his flagship scramble its fighter components and launch them as the battle started, he then promptly retreated, handing over the command of his fighters and ground forces to either Confederacy or Techno-Union. His goal was to secure one of the planet's droid refineries, I was told he still wants to lay claims to it, but I told them to take it up with Lord Protector as it is outside of my jurisdiction. I also told them you would be busy at the moment, I figured you may want to deal with civilian rescue first before dabbling in corporate business. Over."

 

[Seanna Vel]

[member="HK-36"]

To be in the state she was only caused her more calmness. It was during this calmness that she felt another present on the ship that knew of that was of [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]. It was clearly only a brush before she felt herself being pulled out. First was being woke up finding herself being washed with warm water. Opening her eyes slowly, "Master where is my, master,", as she looked around. Being brought to her some clothing, then gear. Putting them on like she was ask, but speaking very little. More then anything to fight for her life again. Just how did she get herself into this situation. "Yes, sir.", still her mind was screaming out in the force to call upon her master. To find out where he was being keep. "OH, Kiffar heck, I'm not going any where until I know Master [member="Eldoc Quasat"] is okay you haven't harmed him. Only to feel that she had to be being lead with out much talking.

 

[Adele Adonai]

@Kisla Grayson

Druckenwell was now a wound in the Force. There was no denying it. The sickening feeling that A’dele Adonnai felt at the pit of her stomach as the shuttle containing the small Jedi healing task force would lead them towards their destination.

The healer could feel the lingering emotions. Pain. Agony. Such suffering. A darkness would linger, and promise to fester and grow, like a putrid tar pool inching it’s way from the equator of the planet to the surrounding area.

The Iridonian would shudder against such a suffocating sensation, feeling the tendrils of the Darkside edge in the distance.

“There is much pain, much suffering on this planet.” she would comment softly to Master Grayson, bringing her hands together to clasp over her waist, already mentally trying to attain a measure of balance the closer the shuttle would fly to their destination.

“Where do we begin?”

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

THE SALVAGE YARDS

Grab. Grip. Lift. Grunt. Shift. Set down.

Rinse and repeat.

The hours were long, the workload brutal, but Aeron continued with the task at hand at moving debris. Sweat would roll in beads down her face, soaking her blonde hair under the plastic bioprotective suit to block the bulk of the radiation.

It was as hot as Mustafar’s lava pits, and if she were honest… she didn’t smell too far from that either.

Telekinetics were her primary specialty, with ballistic kinetics, the ability to manipulate small objects and enhance them with the Force to great speeds being her focus. She was no Siobhan Kerrigan, who could throw lucrehulks at her enemies. But she could make any small object a formidable weapon, with enough speed and power to match the damage of a slug.

It was a work in progress, but something the Zeison Sha Adept held true to her upbringing. Thus the strain in body and mind to use the Force to lift and move large pieces of debris.

It was wearing. But someone had to do it.

 

[Dicer]

Day Fourteen

Dicer shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. To his left a senior Major in the army was checking his hair in a small mirror. Curtis was waiting for an interview from a well renowned wartime reporter from a central news agency. Curtis didn’t recognise the woman who sat opposite him, but then he very rarely bothered to watch the news. He liked the sports channels.

She was busily going through some notes, he could see her lips moving as she tried to memorise some key facts and questions. Curtis sat still, trying not to fidget. He had been given a long briefing by an Officer who dealt almost exclusively with press relations. They had been very clear on what Dicer was allowed to talk about, what questions he should defer to the Major and what was off limits. He had spoken to Curtis slowly and with small words. The officer had grinned like an idiot every time Curtis has shown that he understood what was required of him.

“Ok we’re ready to roll,” someone shouted. Whilst the camera crew busied themselves Curtis thought back to the fugee camp that had flown over on the way here. The sheer scale of the operation was astounding.

A small team of repulsor droids floated up around them. Some had holo-camera, some had bathed them in light.

“Good evening,” the presenter suddenly announced. “We are here on the ground of Druckenwell, just outside of the outskirts of the planet’s second largest city: Nilheilm. If you look to our left and down into the valley you can see the remains of the city. The deep scar you can see runs for almost five kilometres and tracks the path of the largest piece of debris. We can’t actually go any closer than this. Several small reactor cores came down on the outskirts of the city and no one is being permitted by the Protectorate forces to approach without specific protection.

“With me now are Major Holmes and Private Charles of the ODF army currently working to try and rescue as many civilians as possible. Even two weeks after the event there are still reports of civilians being dug up, but by now it’s unlikely that any further survivors will be found.

“Private Charles, yours has been an interesting story. Separated from your unit it’s been said that alone you led a team of nearly a hundred survivors out of the wreckage of Il Avali and to the safety of a Protectorate camp. Could you tell me a little bit more about your experience?”

Curtis froze for a moment. He looked to the presented, to one of the camera, and briefly to his Major who was smiling encouragingly. Just stick to the script! he thought.

“Well it was hard work, but nothing anyone else wouldn’t have done. They all needed help and there was no one to provide aid for clicks around – I mean kilometres. I suppose I just knew how to survive without aid and enough about to lay of the land to get them to safety. I couldn’t leave children behind.” Curtis said.

“I think Private Charles is being modest,” Major Holmes interjected as they had planned. “We picked him up and found he had no radio seven cracked ribs, a bruised lung, a fractured wrist and a dislocated shoulder. And yet – he personally carried a small child for seven hours in total just to carry him to safety! He barely eat during that time, giving up his own rations and portions to make sure the children were well fed.”

“Amazing,” the reported said. “I hope you’re proud of what you did Private Charles. As many stories of tragedy as we have been bringing you there are just as many of heroes like yourself, and many more. Whole communities who have come together to escape the devastation.

“Now why do you think it took so long for you to reach aid?”

Dicer opened his mouth to answer, but the Major actually extended his arm out in front of him. “That’s a good question,” Major Holmes replied. “What you have to realise is the scale of the destruction caused by the Confederacy. We brought several hundred thousand personnel to Druckenwell and many more arrive every day from across the galaxy, but the damage covers an area of around two hundred thousand square kilometres. So you see, when you have just one man to each square kilometre of destruction, the scale of the task becomes apparent.”

Curtis leant back in his seat. It was back to the old times now. Keeping quiet, letting others speak on his behalf. He almost wished to have that week by. The hunger, the despair and pain had almost been worth it just to have the respect and admiration of a group of people.

 

[Long Gone]

Alyesa had a moment of clarity as she looked over the reports.

Incom Corporation appeared to have suffered the worst out of all the Corporations currently present on Drunkenwell, their stock was plumetting and news had surfaced of missing members of the Board of Directors. This left a huge hole in leadership and with that hole came a price drop in their stock that was insane for any savy investor such as herself to pass up. It was a gamble of course, she had connections and the ability to front the money to purchase a large quantity of the stock and provide Incom Corpoation with a bailout, but if she wasn't able to get the right engineers and production going, she would have to bankrupt that project. With that bankruptcy would go her life-savings and with that, she would be out on the streets. As it stood, she would have to leave her post within the Republic to be able to attend to duties as a CEO. That is, if she was able to pull this off.

She looked at the documents and then to the communications frequency of the local Incom rep, she bit down softly on her lower lip before nodding to herself. "Gotta do this..." It was too good to pass up, she would pick up the comlink and contact the local Incom rep and set up a meeting and present her bailout to them, in a financial form. She of course first would have to secure the funds from the First Intergalactic Bank of Naboo and then other investors within the group. It all hinged much like most business deals did, on promises of wealth and success. She would have to make contact with the representatives of other companies and get parternships going. Like Corellian Engineering Corporation ([member="Ayden Cater"]) and others. Just made sense, no reason to keep Incom Corporation from doing joint projects.

Oh she had a plan, a good one...or atleast she hoped it was good. It was time to see if that plan could pan out.

 

[Lex-El]

Druckenwell
Groundside
Remnants of Blas-Tech HQ

Cade's hands were on his hips, and thankfully he was alone and wearing the ring he always did. His face didn't move a bit as he stared at the smouldering ruin that was one of his business' headquarters, and he was quite livid. His attempts at moving all of his weaponry off world and closing the factories had been quite successful. Blue eyes scanned the marred landscape before him, and what had once been a wonderful complex was gone. Thousands of employees were dead, though thankfully everyone important had been evacuated or was on Coruscant. The One Sith knew better than to trifle with the man who was secretly a Sith Lord, his coded messages had been very blunt about what would happen to their leadership should they try and mess with his company. Plans were already being set in motion to move from Coruscant, and possibly Druckenwell as it stood. Though that was up in the air, and he pulled a small holo-communicator from his jacket pocket before strolling closer to the crater that had once been his headquarters.

With a press of a button, a voice could be heard on the other end.

"Omega Defense Force, how can we help you sir?" The woman's polite tone did little to soothe his rage, but he made sure to appear polite. "Yes, I need to speak with [member="Ayden Cater"] immediately." He could hear a chuckle on the other end as the woman tried to hide how ridiculous she thought his request was. "Sir, I'm sorry but the Lord Protector is very busy at the moment catering to Druckenwell's needs."

"I don't think you understand who I am." Cade made his face visible to her. "My name is Cade Lee, and I'm the CEO of Blas-Tech and I produce most of your weapons. I will have a response from him now."

 

[Ori'Alor Tal'Verda]

[member="Canal Tal'Verda"]

A Moment after the Explosion went off, the debris that had initially fallen into the former basement flew out, powered by the force. Ori hobbled out a moment later, leaning against the Besuliik, and not even using her right leg. "I have a few broken bones, but the most serios one is one on my right lower leg." Ori said, frowning in pain "I can't walk on that leg until it gets healed up." Ori kept hobbling over to Canal, until she let go of the Besuliik and hopping the last few feet and embraced him. "I thought that was it for a moment or so there..." Ori Admitted, looking up to her husband "But I couldn't leave so many to die like that, I had to get as many out as I could..." Ori fell silent after that, the feeling of death was in the air, and it was the strongest she had ever felt in her career as a soldier.

 

[Djorn Bline]

He caught his wife after she hobbled towards him, "You're gonna be fine, alright?" The clone said and took off his helmet so he could give it to her. She needed it more than him. He could survive from the air for little time. "Hey, you did the right thing. Don't be tough on yourself. Now, alley-oop," and the commando picked up his wife and began walking towards a M47 drop ship tyat dropped his team off.

[member="Ori'Alor Tal'Verda"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Ruins of the city



Preliat stood on a building. Preliat looked solemnly over the entire area, dust, debris, and bodies lined the streets. The impact was so powerful, the vibrations alone took down most of the buildings. Buildings that housed people. Entire families, taken in an instant. This was not a stray mortar round, a misplaced blaster bolt- this was an act of genocide. Bloody, awful, genocide. Preliat looked over at the medical tents, but had no real experience in working with medicine to help. He would not impede progress, there progress. Preliat's boots slowly walked from the dust, into a street. He saw a barber, a shop, an electronics store of some type. There were no relief workers here yet, and there seemed to be no survivors. His feet imprinted in the dust. He choked back the emotions of rage and sorrow, as he constantly walked onward, unable to grasp the destruction.

He kept walking. Walked further into the destruction, into the piles of dead bodies, but never lingered. He knew what would happen if he did. As the sky became dark, and the dust picked up, it reminded him of his own personal hell - Elrood. How it reminded him, the blackness, the piles of dead around him.

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Rosa hovered for a moment still fighting against waves of nausea, before directing the Rose towards the medical cruiser. She imagined that healers from all over the galaxy would be responding to this. Perhaps she would need to lend a hand, perhaps she would be told she would be more use on the surface. The only way she would find out is if she made herself known and let them direct her to where they needed her most. Every thought, every movement required extra effort, like she was moving through thick sludge as the emotion pressed heavily against her with every inch closer she came.

The dull thud of a docking arm connecting with the airlock reverberated throughout the ship, following by a series of clunks as it locked into place. She got to her feet, and headed for the airlock, which was hissing as the pressure equalized. A loud beep cut through her mind, to tell her she was clear to enter. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, pushing back the emotion from her once more. She needed to find herself a purpose here and focus on it fast, lest she drowned in emotion that wasn't hers.

Footsteps carried her along the crisp white corridors as she looked for someone with authority that may be able to direct her.

[member="Ayden Cater"] [member="Michael Sardun"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Rosa Gunn"]

A simple YTA-1300 Light Freighter jumped out of hyperspace in the proximity of the Medical Cruiser, when word had reached to the Republic what had happened on Druckenwell Michael Sardun had been one of the first to sign up for a restoration project. It seemed the least he could do, with so much pain and misery radiating from the place. Even now, being on the ship in space, Michael could feel the Force wash over him.

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, far from it. Even now he couldn’t understand how someone could do something like this. War.. was a bloody affair, but this had been ruthless. Calculated. Word had it that their Grand Marshal was responsible, some kind of Warlord they called him. Michael didn’t have any specifics, but he knew that a reckoning was going to come.

One does not simply drop an orbital shipyard on your own planet without suffering the consequences. While musing on about these things, Sardun docked his ship with the Cruiser. The Protectorate had welcomed any and all support they could get, which was a good thing. With the amount of destruction.. even a mighty nation as the Protectorate could use all the help it could get.

Straight back, hands clasped him. Sardun strode through the corridors, also searching for someone of authority. Until his eye caught a familiar figure, familiar in the sense of her carrying and air. Sardun had never met this woman before, but it was clear to him that she was a Jedi. Or at least one who followed the Light.

His voice rang out, as he called upon her attention.

“Greetings, my Lady.”

If she turned around, Sardun would offer her a bow. Not too deeply, and not too shallow either. Crisp and clear in his courtesy.

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

[member="HK-36"]

"Hello," he rapsed out after staring into space for what seemed like an eternity to the room but was only a few minutes. His speed picked up, not from nerves as much as it was trying to keep pace with other things "Still recovering. I...opened my mind o the world, to draw strength from the wills of others, to save myself, and the Jedi--did not catch her name, hope she's alright--bu in all honesty, I've got very little idea was to what happened. My job was to keep the train from attacking the capitol, which I did. Don't know who brought the space station down--not happy about it, though."


"AAAAAUUUGGGGHHH!!!!" He suddenly roared, glaring at the wall behind HK's emissary for no particular reason, than sighing again. " Sorry about that. Residual memories of a dying world are bouncing around in my head. I feel......I don't have a good word for it. Awful doesn't quite get the scope of it. I'm....awful." He sniffled slightly. Honestly, part of him felt like jumping into the vacuum of space, and another part really wanted to bat the crap out of Omega Protectorate's soldiers, and yet another part of him want to find whoever dropped that space station and order them killed in a painful way. He was kind of wistfully annoyed with all of this.

He looked at the Iron messenger and sighed. "How are you, if I might ask. Also," he said, coughing slightly, "could I have some water. I haven't had anything to eat or drink since the battle, I'm afraid."

 

[Dicer]

OOC: And this closes the story arc of all the NPCs I wrote during/after the invasion.



Six months after disaster (Timey Wimey – I know)
A stiff breeze ran over Malcolm, exploiting every gap in his clothing and stinging his tired body. Pulling his coat tighter he took his first tentative step onto the path. The gravel crunched underfoot and he stopped on his first step forwards. It wasn’t the cold winter wind that brought pause as he looked at the house before him. The white gravel path wound through a grassy garden to the door of the small terraced house. The property was brand new, one of the emerging developments since the disaster.

It was the act of confronting those dark memories that he had buried that brought pause to his advance. As the civil servant in with responsibility for delivering Druckenwell’s infrastructure projects his skills had been very much in demand since the battle. Dr Malcolm Lask had been glad of something to immerse himself in since the news had reached him. His daughter, her husband and their single child had never been found since the destruction of Il Avali. In the following six months he had barely seen the rest of his family and worked himself to the bone. The work had been blessed relief.

Last week he had received a single communication from the Government body that had been set up to deal with re-homing the “Druckenwell Billion” who had lost theirs. His only grandson, Toby, had been found. Carried from the wreckage by a lost Omega soldier, the boy had been cared for by a lone man. With all the chaos it had been months before the boy had been identified on joining a new school, and even more time before the department had managed to find next of kin. The soldier was long gone now, off on some other campaign on a distant world, but apparently he still exchange messages with the boy.

Meeting the boy again would mean unleashing those daemons he had hidden from for so long. His little girl, his only little girl – Salia – had been buried in Il Avali.

And now he was here. On the edge of a stranger’s house, trying to work out how he would convince this man that his grandson needed to come back and be with family. He’d be five now, he must have started school. He wondered how much taller he would be.

His reverie was broken by a shout from the house: “Granda!” He looked up to see Toby opening a window. There was a clack as the front door was unlocked. A stranger appeared, a forced smile on his face, but there was something else in that expression…was it worry?

Then Toby emerged from the house and rushed down the garden path to him. Malcom ignored the pain in his aging knees and bent down to embrace his flesh and blood. The tears came freely and the child found a crook in his neck and grasped with surprising strength.

“Oh Toby Toby! Come on now, its freezing out here,” he said quietly. He put Toby back down and led him up the garden path. He stopped at the door. Taking a moment to wipe his eyes with his sleeve before offering his hand. “David?” he asked.

“Yes, David Janes, you must be Malcolm?”

“Yes, yes” he replied, not able to think of anything more to say. He was led into the living room. It was small, but tidy. He found himself seated on a cheap mass-produced sofa, with a cup of caff in his hands. He guessed all these houses would come with identical furniture. Toby was chattering excitedly, talking about his new school friends. A few pictures were thrust into his hands, drawings that Toby had made just for him in advance of his visit.

He smiled thinly and asked what felt like sensible questions. It was almost too much. Toby wasn’t a temporary resident here. There were photos of him on the wall, a pile of his toys to one side – many of which were brought out for ‘Granda’ to play with. This stranger, David, ruffled his hair and handled him as if he was his own son.

“Could we talk?” Malcolm suddenly found himself saying.

“Of course,” David replied. “Toby do you think you could play in your room for a while, and make sure you tidy your school things!” His bottom lip wobbled as he spoke, why was he so afraid?

Toby complained, but did as he was told. He did, however, make a show of dragging his heels as he headed up the narrow staircase.

David looked him in the eyes. Malcolm could see they were damp. “You’re going to take him away, aren’t you?”

Malcolm mentally reeled at being confronted by the question. Of course he was. Toby needed to be with family. Why did David ask with such heart-wrenching fear? Then it hit him. For such an exceptionally clever man, Malcolm was capable of missing what was right under his nose. There were so many family photos on the walls, many of them with Toby, but many…

He stood up and walked to a mantelpiece. He carefully picked up one of the frames, hearing a quiet sob behind him. “What was her name?” he asked.

There was a pause. Then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Holly,” came the faintest, croaky whisper.

“You were in Il Avali?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes. We…we got caught in the crowds by the…”

“By the tower buildings,” Malcolm replied. “I saw it happen.” He placed the picture carefully down on the mantelpiece and walked back to his chair. “She was beautiful. I still remember when Toby’s mother looked like that,”

David nodded, but did not reply.

“Look, I’ll be honest. I thought Toby would be best back with his family. I have a son you know, he’s married, and I’d thought….well…” Malcolm said.

“Of course,” David replied, nodding slowly. “Maybe he should finish his term at school?” he offered.

“Maybe he should stay,” Malcolm asserted. “He seems happy here, maybe we’ll all think about what But I’d like you to bring him to visit the whole family soon, we all want to see him.”

David looked up, the glint in his eyes having changed completely. How could Malcolm have torn Toby away from him after such loss? But was this healthy, had the man simply replaced his lost daughter with Malcolm’s grandson?

“I don’t really have a lot of money for travel…”David started.

“Nonsense,” Malcolm replied with a wave of his hand. “I can sort that out for you, not to worry. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

Malcom stayed the rest of the day, getting to know his grandson once again and his new guardian. They offered for him to stay the night on the sofa, but he decided to take an air-taxi back to New Il Avali.

When he returned him he rang his bank manager. He put aside two sums of money from the pot he had been collected for years. David Janes would need some of the first to look after his grandson, he was a good man but the manual labourer hardly had a spare coin from his job. The other would be set aside until he could track down the man who had carried his grandson from the ruins of Il Avali. Toby and David had both talked at length about this man, Curtis, who had led them all to safety.

Then he rang his son. They talked for an hour about the family they had lost in the aftermath of the battle. Malcolm found words that he had been unable to speak for so very long. That night, for the first time in six months, he went to bed early and fell straight asleep. No longer would he have to work furiously until the early hours of the morning just to be able to find sleep.