The Exodus of Eshan

[Ria Misrani]

Camp Rogativa

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Monastery
Outside the Town of Leonasa

It was hard to believe the violence that was happening to her homeworld, harder still to imagine that her family would flee. Tellu had to put that aside even as the tears fell to the ground. She shut her eyes tight and took in a deep breath, shaken she exhaled and opened her eyes. She was here on Monastery, and in that moment she wanted to reach out for [member="Nylea Apollodor"] her fellow Echani. It hurt her heart to imagine the deaths of their kin, anger burned within her soul but there was little she could do. It wasn't hard to appeal to her sister the Exarch, to open Monastery's doors once again to more refugees even as they were still sorting out those who arrived daily from the collapse of the Core. The camps stretched once more from Sanctuary through to Leonasa with the mountains looming overhead.

More camps on the otherside of the mountains began to spring up, and the shuttles from the spaceport at Vitalli began to arrive. Landing pads were occupied with medical personnel and members of the Confederacy's military, each one unloading the shuttles and getting the refugees in for a quick physical before sending them to the camps. It was a routine they were all too familiar with. Many of those who arrived were children, and it broke her heart for she knew why they were alone. Why few adults had arrived, they would have stayed to fight, it tore her heart over and over again. All she could invision, and all she could think of - what if this was her and Srina with their siblings? The elderly and the sick were among those who arrived.

"Keep the siblings together!" Tellu shouted, as the Order of the Sacred Lotus continued, "once they've had their physical, let's get them a nice warm meal if they need it, lines for supplies can move here, and clothes, clothes here." Droids moved quickly to get everything set up as many prefabricated buildings were propped up. Such foolish people she thought, but she could scarcely afford to blame them. There was no doubt in her mind that her parents would've fought back, she half-wondered if the eldest Talon sibling would arrive. She was quite sickly even as they were growing up, and then her thoughts again turned to her sister [member="Srina Talon"]. Tellu wanted to ask how, how was it all happening and to the Echani? Tellu knew one thing for certain - the crime could not go unpunished, but those thoughts were poisonous she knew. "Viceroy, the Silver Jedi have contacted us they should be touching down at Vitalii soon." Elisea told her as she looked about as stressed as any of them did.

"Thank the Goddess, we need all the help we can get." Tellu replied, "c'mon we've got to get more landing pads open."

[Open to Confederacy, Silver Jedi, Sacred Lotus, Praxeum and other neutral/light siders]

 

[Celiana]

Goddess... I should've been here earlier. I should've cut down the beskar wearing fools that dared destroy my home. Instead I'd been stuck on Kasshyyk due to my past... Kark the Masters and Feth The Council. I'd left and now I was en route to a spaceport at Vitalii. Providing aid when I should've been shedding the blood of those who'd dared ravage my home... As it was my ship The Morrigan was loaded heavy with relief supplies, about the only thing left was room to walk from room to room. I'd crammed as much as I could into my cargo bay, the med bay was fully stocked and I reckoned it'd be empty soon... I may not bear the white hair or silver eyes of The Echani, but I still was at least partly Echani.

Exiting hyperspace The Morrigan knifed through the black towards The planet Monastery. Opening a channel I said "Vitalii control, this is the Silver Jedi Vessel Morrigan requesting landing clearance. I have relief supplies for the aid of The Echani people." With my temperament right now I'd land even if told not to... There was no way I'd turn my back on The Echani...

[member="Tellu Talon"]

 

[John Locke]

It was horrifying, the thought that another planet had been attacked, another population on the run, leaving their homes and all their possessions behind. It almost broke your heart, it did break John's heart. He'd been bouncing back and forth across the galaxy recently, from the territory of the Outer Rim Coalition to here in the territory of the CiS, there seemed to be no end of people who needed help. And John wasn't about to let any of them down if he could help it. No sooner had his merchant fleet arrived back in the Silver Jedi Territory, than he'd asked them to reload with a new set of supplies and make their way to Monastery, the bright lights of hyperspace swirling outside his window seem to shudder, retracting in on themselves as the fleet shuddered back into real space. The Silver Jedi Admiral let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, one mechanical finger reaching out to tap at a button. "Greetings, this is Admiral John Locke of the Silver Jedi, here with a relief fleet. I have supplies and healers from the Silver Circle and engineers on board. Please let me know where you want us, we're here to help in any way we can."

It was a small thing, the slightest of gestures, but it was all he could do, for now at least. The man didn't plan to let this be the only thing he'd do, if there was anything that could be done, no matter how big or small then he wanted to try. For now though, "Captain, route any communications to me in the hangars, and have all spare crewmembers meet me there. We can help shift the supplies, and I'm sure they could use more warm bodies down there." The man gave a small apologetic shrug, "Sorry to strip out all the warm bodies." "Whatever we can do," the captain turned away from his commander to gesture at an ensign, "have all non-critical crewmembers meet the Admiral in the hangar, we can operate at a skeleton staff if we need to."

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

Nylea had been quick to pledge her help with ensuring the large stream of echani refugees that had fled their home planet, but an hour had already passed since while she had not even gotten up from the edge of her bed. She felt helpless and defeated, she had been since the moment she had woken up and all day the woman hadn't gotten further than sitting up straight with her feet placed on the floor. Her home had been razed, there was little hope there was anything left of it, but that was not even the reason she had been quietly weeping since the early morning hours.

The Force was telling the echani something she didn't want to believe. It couldn't be true.

Two strands of the web of people Nylea had come to know and get close to had been cut. The space they filled felt empty and everytime she tried to somehow reach out into that void, there was nothing. She couldn't believe they were gone. She couldn't believe her own pa and ma were gone. They were good people, they didn't deserve such a death, but the hole in her heart kept telling her to face the truth. But as long as the records didn't contain their names, she wouldn't accept it. And yet, she quietly weeped in mourning. Her head was angled downwards, her upper body not collapsing further only due to her hands that her forehead rested on.

Tears fell down onto her own legs like water slowly dripped down from the ceiling of a damp cave while her inner demons continued to plague her. Already Nylea was searching for reasons why it her fault, somehow it had to be. Her saving grace from falling down deeper into that hole of self-deprecation was the holodevice that laid next to her as it buzzed, at which she quickly wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her shirt and set it on her lap.

"I am sorry, I- the Lotus needed me with mobilizing their efforts. Please tell Tellu I will be there shortly." Her own plight did not matter now, so there was nothing to gain in sharing it. There were many that suffered much more than she did, they needed the support. She could find a way to cope by herself.

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Although still looking tired and shook, Nylea had kept her promise and not long after the holocall she arrived at camp Rogativa. Instinctively she went to look for Tellu, hoping her presence would be of at least some sort of relief. The sight of the masses of her fellow echani, some afraid, some crying, others sitting in harrowing silence made her heart drop down to her stomach, fully realizing the scale of the atrocities that had been and were being committed. This wasn't necessary, this wasn't justice. It was nothing more than pointless cruelty and suffering, and with it a part of who she was had been ripped away from her.

"Tellu," Nylea called out when she did find her, making her way over to where she was. "I am so sorry, I should have been here earlier. I-I-" She stopped herself as she felt a lump in her throat starting to form, wanting to keep the mess of emotions that had settled into her mind from spilling out. There was no hiding it from Tellu, though, the aura Nylea exuded in the Force making it clear as day how distraught she truly was. After recollecting herself again somewhat, she continued.

"Where am I needed?" Nylea looked out around her, seeing there was much to be done but she knew that it was important to work as a collective rather than individually. "I think you can relate with wanting to keep yourself busy."

[member="Tellu Talon"] | [member="Celiana"] | [member="John Locke"]​

 

[Chikako Liona]

Another war another wave of refugees fleeing devastation of their home land, a common site for the CIS considering their relatively safe haven from those around and it's size. Still the young princess had not expected her own people to be among those fleeing in droves to escape a violent invader, an invasion over slavery for some reason, the new of the occupation by the Mandaloiran Empire being quite troubling to hear. The amount of people flooding into the Jedi world of Monastery almost seeming to rival those of those coming do Naboo at the fall of the Galactic Alliance, long spanning tent cities filled to the brim with other Echani covering the green fields of the peaceful planet.

It would probably come as not surprise that Chikako lent aid to the Sacred Lotus, offing Tythe to act as an overflow if the numbers of Echanis feeling became too high along with food produced from her agricultural world and hundreds of military personal to keep things in order. As of the moment the young princess was talking with one of her advisors, being informed on the current situation of the refugees and the arrival of the Silver Jedi above the planet. "Okay thank you for the information I shall convene with [member="Tellu Talon"] and see what the Silvers will be offering, I hope it is mainly medical supplies, that seems to be in demand the most around here".

With a small dismissive wave the advisor let her be, returning to their current task, the young princess traveling to meet the planets current Vicroey, winding through the crowds of displaced people. Upon getting closer another voice ringing out calling out the name of said planetary leader, Chikako's eyes falling upon Echani one that seemed to hold an aura of authority, herself assuming one of the Sacred Lotus members. As the two talked the younger Viceroy continued to approach, keeping quite for the time being as the two of them talked.

[member="Nylea Apollodor"]

 

[Srina Talon]

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Location: [Monastery] Camp Rogativa - Outside the Town of Leonasa​

Wearing: XXXX​

Standing Near: [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Tellu Talon"]​

Little stars. Tears, like little stars. ​

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The soundless woman could see the tears rolling down porcelain features that looked so much like her own. Her expression was cold. Empty. She was nowhere near [member="Tellu Talon"], not yet, but she could picture the sadness of her most beloved sister. Srina had always been more protective of this sibling, more than the others, because of her obvious vulnerabilities. She was fire. Emotion. Unbridled Passion. Tellu felt things so deeply that the Exarch felt like she would forever be wandering in the dark on a wing and a prayer that she may someday understand.

Srina was her opposite. She was their mother. Ice. It was not her place to feel. She didn’t have the luxury of falling victim to base sentiments that seemed to leave the strongest of men and women a wallowing mess. The Child of Eshan knew the pain of her people. Somewhere, distantly, her heart ached and broke…But she would suffer that in silence. She would uphold the memory of those that had been lost, taken, before their time by remaining strong.

When her sister requested that Monastery open their gates once again Srina could only agree and make arrangements for support. What was the point of being an Exarch, one step from the Vicelord, if she couldn’t make those sort of choices on her own? Regardless, she set out as quickly as possible from Geonosis.

The refugees from Eshan were her people. Her blood.

She wouldn’t stand aside while they suffered.

When she arrived at Monastery, just outside of Leonasa, she was not alone. Both [member="Adron Malvern"] and [member="Darth Metus"] were aboard the Ferocity. It was the larger of her two ships with twice the firepower that most frigates contained. The newly repaired Fortressa would be just faintly visible along the skyline, high in the clouds, while shipping containers were guided down from the SSD in droves. They were full of medical supplies, food, pre-fab buildings for temporary housing, as well as other basic necessities.

Harmless, unarmed, B-1 Droids would help with unloading and set up—just as they had on Naboo. Just as they had on Monastery after the destruction of the Core.

The wintry Exarch made her way down the ramp without a word. Clad wholly in silvery-white, as was typical, mercurial eyes remained unflinching. The flat area that they’d landed in, out of the way, did not do the services of the Order of the Sacred Lotus any sort of justice. They were just barely recovering from their aid toward those that had been displaced from the destruction of the Core.

Now? Now, it began all over again.

She could feel the presence of [member="Adron Malvern"] approach. He stopped beside her. On any other day, she might have looked toward him. She would have, at least, greeted him. Today, she could not. Even when her Master, [member="Darth Metus"], flowed from the ship that he had bequeathed to her—the chilly shroud she had wrapped herself in remained firm. Her mind remained quietest of all, shielding them of unspoken pain, and the very real desire to scream it out. Instead, the words that flowed from her lips were empty, pale, and numb. “The Silvers are here.”

It should have been a relief. Instead, she felt nothing at all.

“Tellu is this way.”

She moved forward, dressed carefully, in a combination of plain clothing and armor. Wisely, she wore enough cloth to appear non-threatening, however, enough metal to ensure protection. It fit her fighting style and her current mood. Silent and severe. The last time she had walked these grounds and tended to those in need she had found herself praying for peace. This…This was different. This was war, even if, a formal declaration had not been made.

Srina did not yet know the details—but the refugees would hide nothing. Not their sorrows and not their attackers.

When she finally spotted her sister she felt questions burn in her throat. What of their family? What of those that she had not seen in over a year? The sight of Tellu was almost too much, however, the Exarch buried her personal feelings. They had no place here. “Sister.”, she greeted, though, it was unnecessary, Tellu would know her anywhere. “The Fortressa has begun supply drops. The B-1’s will help unload both here and Vitalii. Where do you most need us?”

Regardless of station, rank, or any other nonsense title, Srina would always defer to her sibling in efforts like this. Her sister coordinated better than anyone Srina had ever known and there was no way she had crossed the Southern Systems to stand idly by.

 

[Adron Malvern]

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Location: [Monastery] Camp Rogativa | Objective: Aid the Echani | Tags: [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Tellu Talon"] | Wearing: This...​

I​

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The news had come by Adron's desk early that morning. He had not quite been so sure what to make of it when it first brought itself to him, an attack on Eshan. No, something this savage and barbaric had not been a mere attack, it had been a scarring. He had hoped to tell [member="Srina Talon"] himself but the time he reached her office which was adjacent to his own, she was already lost in a wintry expression that caused him a degree of grief. Her home had been destroyed, sacked by an enemy with no mercy. He of all people could understand it, understand what it felt like to have your people slaughtered and watch the lands you once graced turn to ash. In some ways the Exarch was thankful that Srina had not had to witness it herself, in others he knew it would have strengthened her resolve. it was always better to stare hell in the eyes, there were less false beliefs that way.

He had departed from Geonosis with Srina and their master, [member="Darth Metus"]. It had been a quiet trip.

Now he stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest, considering a great many things. He looked over the report from the carnage that he had stowed onto a dataapad just as they left. His once azure eyes had long since hazed over to a perfect Amethyst, as if illuminated with small purple crystals. Those eyes continued to sweep over the report again and again, drinking in every little detail until the back of his head started to ache from it. One word stood out more than any other and was prominent through out the briefing.

Mandalorians.

Savages who treated war and death like a childrens game. They were nomadic warmongers who traveled from one planet to another, wreaking havoc and leaving death in their wake. Now they had traveled to Eshan and left their mark on the Echani. Setting the datapad down on a nearby table, Adron noticed they were preparing to land. Monastery. It seemed they were returning more and more to this world that was mostly used to cycle refugees. The Exarch bit the inside of his lip for a brief moment before turning to make his way to the passenger ramp. His black shoes blended into the durasteel as he tucked a hand into his pocket. Approaching Srina he could feel the winter's grace had not yet left her, she was still cold and distant, more so than usual. This was not her usual lacking in displaying emotion, this was something far more.

"If you do not destroy them...You will never free yourself from this." His words were hushed and simple, curt even. He had lived this and he knew more than now what the Sith needed was to reclaim what had been lost. He followed in step with her as she led them to her sister, another Echani who was likely feeling this pain equally. As Srina spoke to her sister, practically twins, Adron did not speak. Instead his eyes went to the skies where hundreds of ships, birthed from the Confederacy, were making preperations. "It will not take long." He finally muttered, before returning to silence.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"No," he stated firmly as the ship touched down. "No, there's no part of this bloodbath that brings us honor or glory. You know my stance, Rik. You know how long I've kept quiet and gone along with these attacks. Ill advised, frantic, uncoordinated strikes against tactically useless targets? It was one thing to strike against the Sith in defense of our people, but attacking a completely uninvolved world? This is Imperialism."

Alkor removed the buy'ce and looked out over the dusty world, still freshly layered with the hot smell of O-zone from turbolasers breaching atmosphere. He watched swarms of Mandalorian fighters scurry overhead, chasing down resistance fighters and bringing them to heel. It was not the glorious crusade that the Mandalorian Empire had painted it to be among their people. It was a bloodbath, and one painted as a fight against slavery. He could have dumbed himself down and blinded himself to the lies forever in defense of the culture, but to see it firsthand burned away every facade.

He was made Warmaster, brought to sit at the right hand of Mand'alor. He heard her thoughts and acted as advisor, but every word that deviated from the master plan fell upon deaf ears. Now, standing on the ashen corpses of countless Echani, the emotions and conflict that Alkor had gained over the past few years brought him to stand at odds with his own family. It made him unable to stomach what he had helped to build yet again, and it jaded him to the idea that he could belong anywhere.

Alkor had grown in adversity and flourished as a destroyer. His actions had burned more celestial bodies than he could ever hope to build up, and the horrors unfolding right before his eyes confirmed that it was all he might ever do. Rik Beviin turned a cold, transparisteel stare toward him. "You know there's no coming home this time. If you walk here, you're done. You had a shot at forgiveness. There are no more clean slates."

"If they need to forgive me for this," Alkor smiled sadly, "then I have no need of their forgiveness."

"Out of respect for everything you did for us, and for my son, I won't report this," Beviin told him. "But if you get brought in, you're an enemy." He offered a firm salute as Alkor donned his helmet and stepped off the landing ramp, and the former Warmaster returned it. Somber silence fell over the man as the dropship went winging away, but there was no turning back now. He had to get out there and try to undo some of the damage he had done nothing to prevent.

That was when his display went dark.

Electronic interference ripped through and silenced his tech, sending a numbing chill through his legs. Someone- or something- had taken him off guard. By the time he hit the dirt, everything had cycled but nothing was responsive. "Stang," he hissed as he rolled to his knees. The helmet did nothing now but add weight, so he tore it off and tossed it aside. He took the rifle from his back and scoured the area, obscured by heavy winds and kicked up dust, for any sign of life. Friend or foe, it didn't matter.

Largely because he didn't know who was a friend anymore.

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph walked down the boarding ramp of the shuttlecraft, pausing at the bottom to survey the scene around him. Covenant soldiers rushed forward to offload the shuttle's cargo, and cycle it off the landing pad so the next shuttle could land. While the Covenant had placed soldiers on Monastary in preparation for their arrival, Voph had come with the main force leaving from Eshan. He never was one to sit on the home-front while his men were on the front lines. And so he had arrived with the Arbitration, as well as the Octarchy battlegroup. More and more their mettle was being tested, and Voph was rather proud of their results.

He stirred as a group of Commandos approached him. They had been tasked with coordinating relief efforts between the Octarchy and the rest of the Confederacy. Voph did not wait for a greeting, nor did he offer one. None was needed. "We're sending the shuttles down to this landing pad. Unload, move the supplies out of the way, and prepare for the next shuttle. I want the shuttles on the ground for as little as possible. Lot of ships coming in, so we keep our operation to this one pad, keep the others open for refugees."

Voph turned, and gestured towards the main relief force. "As supplies are pulled away from the pad, take them to the main stockpile and follow whatever instruction you're given to assist in distribution. Once we've offloaded the shuttles, they'll meet with the Arbitration and the Carriers, and begin landing refugees." Voph waved them off to go about their duties as he walked forward towards the main group. His nearly shoulder length hair was not tied back, and his usual blindfold had been replaced with a simple black rag. Not unusual for a Miralukan, but one he wore as a sign of mourning. Owing to the Mandalorian influence in his helmet's design, he had left it aboard the Arbitration. His armor certainly stood out as out of place in this current setting, but he'd not had the chance to change.

In fact, the armor still sported several smoking craters where he'd taken fire. Many of his soldiers bore such marks. They were, after all, a fighting force. What good was that if they were to collect refugees from the places the Mandalorians had not yet struck? Voph's mood grew somber as he walked through the field of refugees. It was a scene he was all too familiar with. The fear. The uncertainty. The despair... Too many worlds had seen such cataclysmic upheavals during the Empire's reign. Particularly during the Zakuul War. Voph recognized a couple faces here and there. Darth Metus, for one. And he thought he heard something about the arrival of John Locke. He'd have to speak with him if he had the time.

Voph fell in stride along side Metus and the two with him, presumably other members of the Confederacy that he had not yet met. There would be time for introductions later. "My Lords...Lady." He offered a single nod of greeting to them, looking to Srina as he paused before greeting her. "The Octarchy Covenant is bringing another shipment of supplies, and standing by to make another run soon as we're able. I have my men ready to receive orders from whatever chain of command has been established." His face hardened as he looked over the crowd again. "They are, however, self-sufficient. So where am I needed?"

[member="Adron Malvern"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]Was this what happened to the Mandalorians in his time a slave in the pits of the Sith Empire? Had the Mandalorians stooped so low as to liberate slaves from one empire only to genocide and enslaves those of another in which they aggressively sought to push their own borders? No, this was not how the Mandalorians were in his time before captivity. They were not these bloodthirsty mongrels that thought of nothing more than to tyrannically flex themselves against another like this. Not without any kind of honor. And as much as one of these new Mandalorians thought they might be serving the will of Kad and living fruitfully to the Resol’nare, they were mistaken. They were only lying to themselves if they thought there was honor in such actions. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Immoral crusades like this made Kalmann wonder if being free of slavery within the Sith Empire was truly freedom at all. To dement oneself to such dishonor for a misplaced sense of glory for the simple slaughter of a race. Of a culture. There was no honor here. None. He would not be a part of this any longer. There was no honor in serving a people that had strayed so far from their paths. The Mandalorians he had once known and loved were gone. Replaced by fake husks that simply donned Mandalorian iron yet had not the faintest idea of what they represented by wearing it. Of how their very actions spat upon the graves of the vode that had come before. It was sickening and pit in his stomach for a grimace laced with rage and hatred from how low these people he’d once known as his brothers and sisters had fallen. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It’d only taken him mere weeks, maybe a couple of months to realize this sickening truth, or at least what he saw to be the truth, and he could no longer allow himself to suffer through the grief of denial. It was a painful acceptance, but it was the first step.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]He rose from his seated position and scanned his surrounding area, embers adrift in the air, and swallowed by the pillars of flame from the fires that engulfed areas of the city still. A grave seen he felt his own inaction had helped to create. In a sense, the fate of the very people of Eshan and Monastery fell to him. His failure to act on what he knew was not justified, had allowed this all to happen. He didn’t deserve a fate any different than the ones his so-called brothers and sisters offered these people. And perhaps his coming here would allow him to atone for the sins of his own inaction. Of the hand he played in this by doing nothing. [/SIZE]

 

[Mariya Fleischer]

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Location: Onboard [member="John Locke"]'s ship​

Wearing: Tera-Kesh Robes made by Matsu Ike​

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The last time she met John Locke, they were both part of the Collective, a mysterious faction that was behind the scenes of many political agendas. During their stint there, both of them had briefly talked about a cooperative effort between their companies during a game of golf. The business discussion ultimately stalled due to Mariya's sudden discovery of her own Force sensitivity, which led her to a long winding road to reach out to the Je'daii Order to learn about the Force. Her traveling was disrupted when the Je'daii Masters suddenly departed for the unknown, leaving the blonde to seek out new pastures for her training.

The Silver Jedi was her new place to call home. Well, not exactly. The mercenary turned businesswoman had mulitple places to call home. Her chateau and vineyard was in the valleys of Alderaan and her best friend Marina DeVoe lived just above the mountains. She also had a living quarters in Commenor, where she reported directly to Lady Kay. Kashyyyk offered her a place to train, to interact with other Jedi and learn about the Force. In short, Mariya had no lack of places to live, but the concept of home simply extended beyond living space. For an orphan like her, the concept of home referred to places where one's friends and family lived, even across vast distances.

"Home. It's always devastating to lose one's home. The Echani has suffered greatly."

She turned to look at John who was busy issuing out commands to the rest of his crew. He was an Admiral now since the last time they met, and she was now a Padawan learning the ways of the Force. Somehow both of them ended up with the Jedi, abit for different reasons. John was always in technology and manufacturing, so being a commander of a ship was nothing far fetched.

"Thanks for letting me onboard. I can't think of anyone better since you are probably one of the few familiar faces on this mission," Mariya smiled at John after he finished issuing out his commands. "I'll just tag along with you for now, since I am the new bird in the Order. Then again, I might stray away later if healing is needed. The Trial of Mahara Kesh calls out to me, to heal anyone without bias. That includes the Mandalorians who did this."

The blonde frowned, inspecting the destruction from the windows. Could she do it? Heal an enemy? The trial of Mahara Kesh might be more difficult than she expected.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Weir
Eshan Surface, Near Refugee Camp #79

"Let the boy go and surrender. I'll only tell you once." The sanguine crosshair leveled straight into the distinctive 'T' shaped visor belonging to a murderer standing like some triumphant hunter looming above a slain man with the distinctive complexion and hair of the Echani people native to the world. Kyle's hazel eyes focus not on the orphaned child used as a shield by their target but the target himself with the unflinching discipline required of precise marksmanship.

Weir's threat is met with a dismissive chuckle. "What are you going to do, Aruetii, kill the boy!?" neither deterred or incensed by the Mandalorian's bravardo, Kyle answers in their foreign accented voice with plain tone. "Just you." With thick powered boots steadying their aim, Kyle squeezes the G-12A Rifle's trigger back into the lower receiver and sends a lone aqua bolt above the child's hairline straight into his captor and before the murderer could even hit the ground the boy's Police Officer saviour covered the sixteen meter distance in less than a metric second scooping frightened youngster away from the armoured warrior with left-hand pivoting away from the grisly sight.

Kyle paused for a second and in this pause considered the delicate emotional state of the sobbing child and does their best to soothe the pale boy. "You're safe now." Weir's tone was ever dry and stoic doing little to offer respite to the snow coloured boy from his sobs, Kyle lances down like a guardian angel over the comparatively tiny Near-Human and begins walking steadily towards the mountain's precipice along a stone-filled path in direction of nearby refugee camp. Kyle is somewhat surprised and even impressed by the lack of hysteria from their charge and casts a cautious glance over shoulder back towards the murdered caravan and that sadist who the had felled.

"You got a name, kid?" The Echani child does not answer initially, and Weir decides not to interrupt his silence further and continues in a brisk pace up the stone path. Kyle takes the moment to reflect upon the sheer brutality of that Caravan's slaughter at the hands of raiding party and how they had toyed viciously with the child. Weir had waited and watched for more than ten minutes as the bloodthirsty warriors casually mulled over the boy's fate like vultures until resolving upon Murder, a Murder which Weir promptly interrupted after the Taskmaster's comrades had left that blood-covered clearing.

Long silence follows Kyle's question, the only thing that filled ears through helmet's sonic moderators is the distant inferno, a blaze that had been lit by the very heavens after a rain of fire wrought by those genocidal maniacs clad in their Mandalorian Iron. "Yu-Yusanis." The answer causes Weir's hazel spheres to snap downwards in the boy's direction. Their name earned a brief smile behind the Sergeant's helmet, Kyle had been rather well educated in ancient Galactic History. "I'm Sergeant Weir." Kyle introduces himself coldly, the boy receives the martial tone surprisingly well for a Citizen forcing Kyle to remind themselves that the Echani's was a militant culture.

"Where are we going?" Yusanis could be no older than ten standard years Kyle thought, and immediately answers the boy's question in an attempt to keep him calm yet offering no warmth as one might find in a parent. "Refugee Camp, up this ridge. Evacuations are underway." Kyle explains simply, holding their Rifle at waist height and scanning the top of valley the pair now trekked through. Anticipating the Echani Command soldiers who would no doubt shortly Challenge the Sergeant before entering the loc, they had already met of course but the Echani were disciplined and would adhere to their training regardless of prior knowledge of his purpose here to aid in the search and rescue of Eshan's Citizens.

Not all were happy with it of course, the Echani tended towards pride by nature of their martial mastery although with their people being actively scoured from existence and dangerously under-strength they weren't exactly in a position where refusal would be pragmatic or readily enforceable. And so the Coruscant Underworld Police Officer and their charge continued through the narrow shadowed path.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Right and wrong no longer mattered. People were dead and a world was on fire. The noxious air gagged Alkor as he fought his way back to his feet. Fiery pain lanced through both his legs and up his back. Even without a HUD to tell him, he knew that the impact had done a number on him. What had done it was gone, or at least, he couldn't see. There was a heavy concentration of bombers in the air. It could easily have been stray ordinance.

Nothing responded. His armor felt increasingly heavy as he struggled just to move. He slipped plates from his arms and torso as he dragged his left side behind him. Sluggish movements told him that minor nervous system damage was likely. He was unfazed.

What he saw was a dropship, though markedly not Mandalorian. Survivors were shepherded aboard, and covering fire suppressed the warriors that flanked them. "Kark," he hissed as he lifted his rifle. Pain seared in his right side. His vision went red.

Several shots raced through the air, and the impact took one of the Mandalorians to his knees. Alkor trudged forward, not toward his people, but toward the Echani. "Let's get out of here," he gasped as blood appeared on his bodyglove.

Every eye watched him in silence.

"Let's go!"

 

[Kasca Fen]

Location: [Monastery] Camp Rogativa - Outside the Town of Leonasa​

Wearing: XXXX​

Standing Near: Adron Malvern | Darth Metus | Tellu Talon | [member="Srina Talon"]​

Kasca followed Darth Metus. As his apprentice - sorta - she had accompanied him. No doubt many were coming to the Echani aid and rightly so. Her pale eyes took in the scene before her and the look on Srina's face. It was strange to see so many people that looked like her own. It had been years since Kasca had last gone to Arkania. The people of Arkania and the people of Eshan shared similar characteristics; pale skin, pale hair, pale eyes and here she saw them, battered, bruised and definitely the worse for wear. No doubt there were plenty of the dead from the attack.

She would follow, wherever Srina needed her to. She was dressed for whatever would be needed. She could help in a multitude of ways. Many hands make work light... though there was nothing light about this. Kasca was too young and too inexperienced to know who could have done this. She didn't know the ways of politics or vendettas, at least not on this scale. She felt for the Echani and hoped she could help in some small measure to ease their pain. But what could one little person do?

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Monastery[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]None[/SIZE]



[SIZE=12pt]Kalmann had found his way far beyond the edges of the Mandalorian Empire now. But why? Why had he come to an area among the galaxy’s stars and systems that above all else likely longed for his death? Revenge and justice for what the ones who dressed like him and talked as he did had done to their very kin on the world of Eshan likely hung heavily in the back of their minds. But these atrocities were performed by men and women he no longer saw as vode, or kin. Kalmann now rejected them and this false vision of what is was to be Mandalorian that they sought to uphold. It was a lie and an affront to Kad and to the millions that had come before. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Images of roaring flames and wrathful plumes of billowing, dark smoke flourished through his mind as he thought back to the countless holo-vids that had come to be erected throughout the Mandalorian Empire, celebrating the genocide they had committed just weeks before. He gritted his teeth as he shook his head and tried to shake the visions from his mind. They had no place there, just as he had no place here. Especially absent a reason and message to bare them. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]He rose from his seated position, patting down the plates of beskar that adorned his figure. His sheathed the traditional blade of his kind along the right side of his back, parallel to the J-12 Jetpack fastened there. Holstered of a hip, a single blaster buster hung lazily and strung from a sling that wrapped across his chest was the DLT-20A blaster rifle. All of his equipment was either aging or broken, just as the man who wielded them. It was certainly a sour site to behold.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]He began a pace toward the village he saw on the horizon, though he knew nothing of the course of action he would take once he arrived there. [/SIZE]

 

[Ria Misrani]

Tellu closed her eyes a moment as the camp bustled and she steadied herself, a hand against the wall of the prefabricated building. Camp Rogativa was just one of many camps throughout Monastery, and the amount of sorrow that felt was overwhelming. Heading outside of the building she watched as now more and more people arrived, "Viceroy, the Exarchs have arrived both [member="Adron Malvern"] and your sister [member="Srina Talon"]." Elisea informed Tellu, who nodded in acknowledgment and made mention that she would meet with them both soon.

Vitalii's spaceport had never seen such traffic of this magnitude even with the Fall of the Alliance, it was never this hectic. "Morrigan, this is Britonni Spaceport, you've got the clearance we're directing you to a makeshift port so that our hangars are open for refugees, it's close to the river we're sending you coordinates now. Redirecting your contact with Silver Waters Spaceport." [member="Celiana"] would not be the only Silver Jedi to be directed here, [member="John Locke"] would get something similiar. "Yes, please head to these coordinates we're directing you now to Silver Waters Spaceport, keeping our hangars here open for the refugees."

:: Silver Waters Spaceport to all Silver Jedi Vessels, please land here we're directly across the river from the main camps. If healers can please report to Sanctuary for a briefing by the Sacred Lotus. All those looking to aid the refugees please head to Camp Rogativa, engineers... mechanics please meet by the Grand Cathedral in Vitalii for your briefing, thank you. ::

The Viceroy had managed her way through the crowd as droids worked to get lines in order, her hands pulled on the rope to help bring up another tent when [member="Nylea Apollodor"] approached her. "I can," she replied without looking, "and make no apologies Nylea, none - you've nothing to apologise for. I need you to help with intake, we're overwhelmed as you can quite imagine." Tellu pulled harder on the line with the others as the tent rose up, Elisea worked to get the stakes down which would then keep the tent up. Once that was done the Echani took a deep breath and exhaled, "Elisea come with me who else is on the call?"

"Liona."

"Varp it," Tellu cursed, "well tell her she can settle her supplies down from Sanctuary there's an empty field she can use."

Elisea nodded while sending out the order on her tablet simultaneously keeping pace with the Viceroy who walked with haste throughout the camp. "No, no, no let's keep the siblings together alright? Give them both physicals at the sametime, they're scared." She was keen on trying not to let her feelings get to her but if she were honest, she wanted to break down and cry. It wouldn't help anyone if she did, so she pushed through them. "Shelter will be down there, we're bringing extra blankets down from the temple, yes ask if the Khaan of Naharyar can gather up any blankets they have, anything to keep the children warm." Again, Elisea was typing out on her tablet or using her wireless headset to call out to those around Monastery. Monastery's history of reciving those who needed help the most had shaped the culture here, although there was not much to go around they would all share what they had.

She didn't need to turn around to know that Srina was there, "the droids are a big help, we need to make sure the lines stay controlled and that we have sufficient counselors on hand, and food. Monastery is a large world for bread, but we've never had to feed so many so quickly, we had food when the Alliance's refugees came through but we hadn't had the harvest time to sustain another large wave, not like this." She was honest, "the Silvers have brought engineers so I'll work on speaking with Monastery's leaders on where we can place a new town. It's a lot, I'll be honest, but my main concern are the children they have no idea what's just happened many of their parents are still on Eshan."

Tellu turned now to face her sister, "and all I can think about is what if that had been us?" She took in a breath and the tears were there they threatened to fall, "many are still caling for their parents. The boys cling to their sisters, and the adults that we do have are sickly, or the elderly." A hand on her hip with the other on the bridge of her nose as she just took a moment to reel. "I want blood," she said without remorse as the rage simmered beneath her skin, "I want blood, but before that we must get our people settled." Tellu shifted the topic, "warmth, shelter, food and comfort that is what we need. We have lines for each, I'll have to meet with the other camp leaders ..."

The Echani pulled her elder sister into a hug but it was more than that, she needed to reorient herself. As she pulled away her eyes met with Srina's, the urge for blood was still there, she turned away from Srina and went back into the fray. Tellu then looked over at the other Exarch and gave him a nod of approval, she could not forgive the slaughter of thousands the brutal hand of the Mandalorians needed to be met with the same force. Elisea cleared her throat, "Viceroy the Octarchy have arrived."

"Direct them to Vitalii, I'll have teamsters from Maurius come to help distribute the supplies." Tellu relayed her orders as Elisea sent them out once more. More and more as people arrived to help they would be directed to various areas of the planet to assist. Some would be directed to help with intake collecting the names and origins of those who arrived, aiding with providing food or medical supplies to those who wanted. Helping to care for the children and comfort them, or help with building more camps, or handing out supplies such as blankets, clothes or simply keeping lines in order.

 

[John Locke]

Location: In Orbit above Monastery
Nearby: [member="Mariya Fleischer"]

"Well you heard the lady," The cyborg sat back in his seat, hands coming down to nod at his communications officer. "Please inform the fleet of our destination, and alert all our aid workers as to their rally points." In addition to the Silver Circle Healers he had brought all the mechanics and engineers he could spare...and then probably a few more besides. Profit could take a temporary drop in the name of aid and support for the refugees, and besides, it was the perfect test of the new Squib technicians he'd been training up.

A quick glance at the viewscreen showed the planet growing ever larger the closer they got to it, dots representing the fleet shifting position, stretching out into a line that would make life just that little bit easier for Vitali control to manage the incoming fleet. The rest of the journey though, well that was out of his hands now, all that John had to worry about was the tasks that lay ahead of them on the ground. It was a different feeling, to be able to step away from the pressure and stress of his day to day life, and just focus on the day in front of him and how to help the next person. It was actually kind of nostalgic, this is where he'd started off life, trying to help those who were unable to help themselves, hopefully successfully.

Shaking of the webs of nostalgia that threatened to ensnare him John twisted ever so slightly to look over at the robe-clad woman standing next to him. It seemed like a lifetime ago they'd been negotiating over a round of golf, it was a little funny how life had turned out for both of them now. "Of course, you're more than welcome to tag along for as long as you want to, it's always nice to have a familiar face around. I'll probably try to see if I can sneak off over to the engineer's rally point if I can. It'd be kinda nice to get stuck in and get my hands dirty." He fell silent for a moment as his eyes were drawn to the viewscreen, to the refugee ships still arriving, he knew as much as he wanted to sneak away he'd probably, eventually, have to help to organise the unloading and liaise with the rest of the aid workers who had arrived to help the Echani. "As you said, they've been through enough, anything we can do to help, even a small thing well...how can we not?" He'd only heard of the trials vaguely before but to offer succour to an enemy like that...a wry look touched John's face as he shook his head, "I mean, I don't think you'll run into too much trouble down there but...I honestly don't know how you do that. Offer to heal an enemy, how you can just look past everything that's happened." Perhaps it was just the business mindset or a military one but, he had to admit, even in the safety of his own head, that he was more than a little jealous of the woman's serenity right now.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Shots ricocheted off the hull of the dropship as they slowly lifted off. Alkor braced himself against the inner wall and aimed his weapon into the heavy concentrated sea of Mandalorians and sent several volleys back. Well placed blaster fire sent multiple targets flying backward, effectively suppressing them- just enough, at least, that they could create some distance.

Luckily for Alkor, he was not the only one firing. Echani that were not severely wounded or incapable of combat took up arms and fired into the fray next to him desperately. "I don't understand," one of them called over his shoulder to Alkor, "why you're shooting at your own people, but for now, thank you for helping us."

Alkor grunted as he narrowly shrugged out of the way of a poorly aimed shot. "We've got worse things to worry about," he muttered as the bay door slowly slid shut. He turned on his heel and moved- more quickly than he should have- toward the cockpit. "They're moving into blockade formation," he urged, though the pain was immense. "We need to run it before they get interdictors online."

"Sir, he's right. We're picking up a large concentrations of Mandalorian fleet, and it's more than just the large ships responsible for the orbital strike." They glanced to the half-armored man, who hunched between them with one eye screwed shut.

"We can't run a Mandalorian blockade," the pilot argued, "best we can hope for is to fly neutral IFFs and hope they let us pass."

"They're not going to let you off-world," Alkor snapped. "They just blew a civilian population sky-high and undermined the soverignty of a free world. Do you think that's where it stops?" He heard the words come from his mouth and thought them surreal. For the past few years of his life, he had lived the Mandalorian life. He wore the armor, spoke the language, protected his people-

And now, he saw what they were doing. Right under his nose, they shifted from amassing territory to conquering nations. They turned from doing what was best for Mandalore, to doing what was best for Mand'alor. It made his stomach turn. He winced at the thoughts running rampant unbidden.

"Give me the controls," he pulled the pilot from his seat and took the chair. "Everyone, get ready. Deflectors set to full, divert power from the weapon systems. Plot a hyperjump to- what's the nearest world outside Mandalorian space?"

"We have orders to jump to Monastery."

"Monastery?" he blinked. Had he been there before? Why that world? "On who's orders?" Alkor looked incredulous.

"The Lady Srina," the copilot answered. "Confederacy of Independent Systems."

Alkor grew very quiet.

His hands worked without words. His eyes moved to the computer, and the map data transferred instantly. Everything was in place. Everything except the clear and present danger.

He pumped the throttle, plotted the course- he knew where they had to fly, where the fleet was its weakest. He knew because he had worked intricately to narrow or eliminate those weaknesses entirely. Tireless planning had gone into the Mandalorian war machine, and he had never thought it would all be for this moment.

As they broke atmosphere, the usual warnings screamed across the Navicomputer. An open comms frequency screeched a warning, and the Mandalorians gave their ultimatum. He flicked the system over to ignore it, and gave his answer to the turbolasers that slammed into their shields.

Alkor closed his eyes as the world around him faded into madness. He listened to the voice in his mind, the quiet one that whispered calming words. As they careened between two larger ships, fighters scrambled into their path. More and more lasers ripped against the overcharged shields, and power rapidly drained away. He took a deep breath, and once they rolled clear-cut

"Now."

His eyes opened, and he pressed the ignition for the hyperdrive. In a flash of brilliant lights, they broke into lightspeed and the stars blurred into obscurity around them. Bound for Monastery, Alkor returned the pilot's seat to its rightful owner.

What came next would be much, much more difficult.

. . .

Monastery.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​[OOC: Didn't realise 'open to neutrals' meant 'open to neutrals we like'] - alas I'll just keep it for the invasion]

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[Celiana]

I received a transmission from the Britonni Spaceport and coordinates to set down at a place alongside a river Silver Waters Spaceport. "Acknowledged Silver Waters, heading there now. Please advise that along with relief supplies I have a fully stocked medbay aboard to help with medical relief for wounded and anyone who needs it." The Morrigan knifed through the air towards the landing zone and I activated several droids in the cargo bay to help assist with passing out relief supplies. Food, and medical supplies mostly but there were also things to help out elderly and children. Blankets and clothing, I felt that there was more I needed to do thank The Force I had a crew of droids....

Activating a secondary Medical droid I sent it to the cargo bay to help with treatment there as well. With one Medical droid in the cargo bay and the other in the med-bay I could help giving medical care to those in need. Then there was me and the battlefield experience I had with The Force already....Odds are I'd be busy too, then again I'd give everything I could to the people of Eshan. I could always get more food, restock my medbay, but this.... This wouldn't be allowed to stand. Soon enough I'd drench Eshan in the blood of the Mandalorian hut'uun who wreaked havoc there. And when their precious armor was rent into shrapnel and their blood watered the soil of my home? Then things could go back to me looking for peace... Djem So....peace through overwhelming firepower. The Mandalorians would feel the fire of an Echani especially one who'd been trained in the Mando ways as well...

[member="Tellu Talon"]