Faction The Exploration of Charros IV [The Scar Worlds & Friends]

[Yula Perl]

Relevant Links: Charros IV | Landfall: The Bryn'adul and Silver Jedi Junction of Charros VI

An arid world that climbed to relevancy through the engineering feats of its people, Charros IV had felt the wrath of the Bryn’adul war machine. Aiming to cut the flow of military supplies to the Silver Jedi Concord, the Draelvasier had razed the planet until its manufacturing facilities were little more than smoldering debris. The Silver Jedi fought valiantly to stem the tide of Bryn’adul warriors while civilians were evacuated, but ultimately, Charros IV fell to the invaders.

Destroying this planet had been an advantageous move for the Bryn’adul, and they pursued greater conquests after reducing Charrian factories and scientific amenities to ash. Eventually, the Bryn’adul’s power waned and remnant forces left Charros IV, leaving the planet both free and unprotected. Not that there’s much to be found on this smoking husk—or is there? Largely untouched since the conflict, some of the unique Bryn’adul tech—including weapons and rare items—have been rumored to be scattered among the wreckage. These spaceport whispers have been endorsed by at least one Jedi (we aint sayin which), who was allegedly present on the battlefield.

Once a habitable world with snow-capped mountains and deep lakes, terraforming has turned the environment hostile and ashen. High plateaus have been re-molded into volcanos, generating the noxious atmosphere necessary for the Bryn'adul to operate. With the Draelvasier gone, Charros IV has begun the process of returning to its natural state, but the toxic atmosphere still necessitates a breath mask for most humanoids.

Curious about these rumors, a group of salvagers made their way to

Charros IV…

Objective 1 | Factory Error

A few heavily damaged factories are still standing, and a handful of Xi Charrians have returned to inspect them. Due to the unstable nature of these buildings, they’ve begun to collapse and trap the natives inside. What’s more, caches of unexploded Barad Impact grenades are scattered around the factories, complicating any potential rescue efforts. Assist the natives, try and make sure they don’t die too much, and maybe find some cool Bryn tech along the way.

There are multiple factories with Xi Charrians in need of rescue, so it would be best to split into groups (or go solo, if that’s your thing).

Objective 2 | Salvage Crew

The Bryn’adul were well known for both their ruthless nature and oddly unique technology. Though their battle with the Silver Jedi had been brutal, it left behind a salvager’s paradise of rare and valuable items including weapons, armor, ships, and more. Find yourself something pretty among the hellscape of debris.

Objective 3 | BYOO

Interested in providing humanitarian aid for the returning Xi Charrians? Maybe you want to hold a drinking contest in the dilapidated remains of city hall? Bring your own objective!

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OOC | This thread takes place some time after the Junction of Charros IV between the Bryn’adul and Silver Jedi Concord, and the fall of the Bryn’adul. The purpose of this thread is to explore a world that was practically razed, and salvage some cool Bryn’adul tech. Per Osam’s thread, you may take any tech listed, so long as you provide at least three posts in this thread, and post it to the Bryn’s tech thread. Please be respectful of the Bryn’adul’s gracious offer (don’t go crazy taking their entire stash) and happy salvaging!

"Yeesh-" Yula grimaced from behind her rebreather. "The crabs really did a number on this place, huh? All this dry air is going to be hell on my skin." She pressed a gloved palm to her cheek, wondering if she should have used a heavier moisturizer. Charros IV had once been more hospitable; now specks of ash drifted through the air against a sickly red sky. Even the hectic factories that had previously dotted the skyline were reduced to rubble, save for a few decrepit buildings on the verge of collapse.

Who could live here?

Unbeknownst to Yula and the rest of the group, a handful of Xi Charrian scientists had returned to their home planet to observe the destruction and recover what they could of their work. Unfortunately, those natives were currently stuck in the dilapidated factories they were inspecting, trapped in the debris, and in need of rescue.

"There's a bunch of factories up ahead—or what used to be factories. We might find some of whatever the natives were producing there, along with whatever the Bryn used to destroy it." Holding up her datapad, a translucent blue beam emitted from the top and scanned the area. "I'm picking up some weird signatures all around too. Looks like there's plenty to explore, maybe even some downed ships in the distance."

The Zeltron hadn't come alone, but some had—affiliations within the Scar Worlds were as tight or as loose as you wanted them to be. Their motley crew was constantly changing and included Jedi, salvagers, spacers, mercenaries, and whatever weirdos they picked up at the local starport. Brow furrowed, Yula pointed towards one of the few factories that hadn't been entirely pulverized into rubble and ash.

"I'm heading for that one there, scans are giving off a few heat signs. I wonder if it's one of those weird Bryn bio-thingies? Oh which reminds me, be careful of whatever you find. These guys have made some nasty stuff." She paused. "Unless…you're into that."

 

[Peyton Steele]

She needed to get out of where she was. The bars, the small deals, the smuggling? It was fine, and it was fun. Cuan was a good partner to work with, but there had to be more to do that just smuggling. She was running guns, same as she did during the Underground days. But that wasn't going to do much good if no one was here to overturn a problem on a world. And with her need to help, well, she was using her contacts and getting the word of good jobs.

That meant Scar Worlds.

That meant being semi-heroic?

It did mean, among other things, a hostile environment suit, one of the old Frontiers Corps ones, and it was set to keep the suit a bit more humid, to help with her Brubreen-ness. "I really need to get a new travel agent…"

Especially because one of the Scar Worlds… staff?, the Zeltron, Yula Perl had sent her the location of her team. "Why did I agree to come to the factories again? I've got a ship on the way with Cuan, he can help us transport any prizes we get. Not really found anything to store them short term. Did bring along a few carbonite grenades. Interested?"

 

[Kyra Perl]

When Kyra had picked up on the distress signal she hadn't bothered to trace it back to see who it was.

She might have once found it lucky that she was already in the system, but lately she knew better than to think like that. It was the force, plain and simple. Just like it was the force she heard when she closed her eyes and turned her ship around.

It was growing easier to listen to it now a days. She couldn't explain why if she tried. Maybe it was the distance she had put between herself and her trauma. Healing had showed itself in many forms, but the path forward had proven clearer when she focused on others.

Maybe she was just no longer fighting her the way she was built. There were days when her empathy proved almost... a gift-- days when she knew peace, and days where her connection felt stronger to the force than it ever had before.




She could feel the cacophony of panic inside the force. It clawed at her chest but she breathed through it. The voices were there, muddled but present as approached the factory from the back on her unloaded speeder. She couldn't untangle one from the other. She couldn't decipher where they were. She could only be sure that they were what she was brought her for.

She swung her leg off her seat and-- A flash of the force's warning seared through her. Kyra froze. Her brows slowly furrowed as she looked around, unaware of the impact grenade burred a foot away.

 

[Audren Sykes]

Charros IV
Objective(s): BYOO

The Bryn'adul had wreaked havoc across a significant swath of the galaxy. They'd done their utmost to eradicate other species - effectively succeeding with a few according to reports. Whole planets had been terraformed to fit their ideal environments, usually without regard to what may have already lived there. The Silver Jedi Concord had been at the forefront of the fight out of moral opposition but more directly due to the territory it helped manage. The Sith Empire - once again broken - had also suffered heavy assault from the invaders.

Fighting had been intense, yet Audren had been involved in none of it. He'd been halfway across the galaxy working with other endeavors and while he'd directed some discretionary funds to the refugee efforts his involvement had been next to nothing. Since completing those efforts his time had freed up somewhat, and so his involvement with the Silver Jedi had increased again. It helped that he had a ship capable of traveling the hyperlanes rather quickly as well.

The efforts at Charros IV weren't SJC in origin, but the system had been one lost to the government. Certain elements paid close attention to those worlds, and some of those elements were willing to share their information. The planet had been effectively destroyed but was starting on the long road to restoration. Several parties had been detected in proximity recently including members of the Xi Charrian religious order. Nobody really knew what the true objectives of those visitors were: they could be trying to help restore the planet to its previous state, they could be attempting to collect what remnants they could, or they could be going just to destroy what little remained since the rest of it was razed anyways.

For his part, the Sephi recognized potential business opportunities. Volcanoes were prevalent now, and that suggested resources that could be mined and put to use elsewhere. They could even power the plants that pulled said elements out: geothermal energy would abound. Heck, volcanoes typically even ended up producing fertile soils. And that wasn't all: the Xi Char were hard workers and took designs to next levels. On the chance they were returning, they would be a worthwhile investment to bring into any facility. Not to mention that he could claim humanitarian goals as well by putting a portion of the theoretical facility's profits into the restoration of the world. If they started now, decades down the line Ceredir could be a major powerhouse on the planet.

First though, they had to determine if it would even be worthwhile.

To that end Audren had pulled together a team of specialists spanning a wide range of relevant subjects from TransGalMeg and flown them out there. Surveys from orbit had identified several promising locations and they had headed down for closer looks. Everyone had their own gear and was busy taking measurements or plugging data into their computers. The Jedi's portion specifically was collating data provided by the specialists to determine overall viability for a facility in the location. This was the third point of interest they'd selected, and it happened to be near the gutted ruin of what had been a factory. Nary a wall had been left standing and lifeform sensors hadn't picked anything up, but a couple of the engineers had headed over anyways to see if there was any merit to using what little remained.

 

[Junker Jonn]

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Location: Charros IV, Former Industrial Zone
Tags: Open

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The Kubindi Dream gently set down on the rocky surface of Charros IV, and a motley crew emerged from it.

They were Junker's Junkers, and they had a well-deserved reputation as the... averagest group of scavs around. Look, Junker Jonn worked with what was available, okay? Mek-Sha wasn't exactly teeming with summa cum laude graduates from Core Worlds engineering schools. He had assembled a solid group of guys - and gals - who mostly knew which end of a fusion cutter to point at a hull, and that was more than he could say for some of the crews he'd worked with in the past. Were they great at their jobs? No. Were they loyal and reliable? Also no. But were they available for hire on this particular day? Yes. And in the end, that was what mattered most.

Because the salvage they'd bring back today would keep Mek-Sha running for at least another week. Maybe.

Mek-Sha had ridden out the various wars against the Sith and Bryn'adul by being a mined-out fueling station too irrelevant for the great powers to bother with. Now that those wars were over, it was the one intact place surrounded by a vast swath of bombed-out battlefields... all of which were still littered with bits of military-grade kit. Or sometimes weird Bryn'adul biotech. In any case, it was stuff that would sell, whether to petty warlords, obsessive researchers, or collectors with more money than sense. That was good news for scavs... and Junker and his scavs needed some good news. They were a little short on credits. Also, literally everything else.

Mek-Sha might be in the perfect spot to take advantage of the resources of these "Scar Worlds", the huge region left devastated and depopulated by the recent wars, but that also meant it was in the perfect spot for all the refugees from all those ravaged planets to converge on when they had nowhere else to go. The station would have been overcrowded just with the fortune seekers and would-be humanitarians flooding into the region; the refugees pushed it to the breaking point. Food, water, power, simple living space, all were at a desperate premium. And somehow or other, Junker Jonn had ended up as one of the people in charge of making it work.

Every day he cursed the day of the accident. That accident being his birth.

As he headed down the ramp of the Kubindi Dream, Jonn let out a low whistle - which, when emitted from a Kubazian snout, sounds remarkably like a balloon deflating through a kazoo. "The shellfish really did a number on this place," he said, taking in the ash-covered crags and the soot-belching volcanoes on the horizon. He was suddenly struck by the uncomfortable thought that his own homeworld of Kubindi probably looked pretty much the same now, totally unrecognizable as the planet he remembered from his childhood. He hadn't been back, even now that the Bryn had collapsed. He wasn't sure he could bear it. Why stir up all those ghosts?

He'd had more than enough encounters with ghosts of late. Bad dreams from Ossus still kept him awake at night.

"Okay, folks," Jonn said, banishing the thoughts as best he could. Focusing with all his might on the job at hand always helped. "Rumor has it that a couple of Xi Charrian factories are still standing around here. They made good quality stuff, so as soon as the word gets out to other scav crews, these buildings will be left emptier than a gym for Hutts. We've got to get there first if we want a good payday... but rumor has it they're full of Bryn'adul booby traps. So, ground rules. Stay in teams of three, and as soon as you find something, call it in. We've agreed to a nice, even split, so no skimming. You need to be welcome on my ship if you want to leave."

They laughed. He wasn't joking.

"One more time," Jonn told them, already feeling sweaty and confined in his environment suit. "We stay in teams of..." "Three!" they chorused. "And when you find something, you should..." "Call it in!" they shouted back. Except for one funny guy, who yelled "make a run for it!" to a chorus of laughter. There's always that one smartass, Junker thought, rolling his eyes. "Okay, get out of here, you lazy sleemos. Bring me something good, or you're all walking home." Hefting his own toolkit, the Kubaz picked his way down the ashen hill, heading for one of the intact-ish facilities. He would coordinate this whole thing over comms, but in the scouting phase he worked best alone.

That way none of these nearsighted idiots would feth it up for him.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Mykal-class Courier Charmed Life, nearing Charros IV

Travot carefully eyed the upcoming world, studying the cloud patterns and atmospheric (dis)coloration. He had only been on the world a handful of times before the Bryn'adul had conquered it. The native Xi Charrians had put up a strong fight, utilizing much of their factory temples to produce a host of war machines to protect their world, but even the massive casualties they had inflicted had not been enough to stop the Bryn'adul Empire. He was curious how the world was now - the Silver Jedi Concord was in the process of terraforming Sarka almost a hundred light years away, and already rumors were swirling that some of the Xi Charrian refugees were making their way back to reclaim their homeworld. But that wasn't something that the Silver Jedi Concord could formally advocate for without proper information.

"Looks a bit worse for wear, doesn't it?" mused Lanyria, stopping to hunch over his shoulder.

Travot blinked at his padawan, "The ship? Or the planet?"

"Your armor. Though those other things probably are too. Anything interesting?"

"Sensors show signs of a handful of ships having passed through the area based on ion streams, but thankfully that means that they aren't bryn'adul ships. The atmosphere doesn't look entirely back to the normal - we'll probably need to wear breath masks. In fact, why don't you head back and make sure that Master Aleena Aryss and others know to pick some up. We have some of those Pneuma rebreathers in the rear left locker near the medical capsules."

"Will do Master. Do you think we'll find anything dangerous?"

He pressed his lips together, "I really hope not..."

 

[Atlas Drake]

INITIATIVE SALVAGE TEAM
PROJECT HIVEBREAKER
CHARROS IV
Junker Jonn

"Picking up lifeform readings, close proximity."

Captain Drake sealed his canteen and replaced the old second hand Roamer series rebreather, taking in a fresh lungful of uncontaminated oxygen. He carried the Glie-44 blaster as a precaution but now the veteran spacer examined its charge before moving to cover the Xi Charrian facility. Atlas glanced over at their bulky portable scanner unit.

"I thought you said there were no signs of Drael activity planetside," he could tell from a look there was no obvious explanation.

Before too long he could hear faint movement outside, and when the familiar looking kubaz appeared Atlas nearly stunned him on reflex. No doubt he was just as surprised by this chance reunion. It took Drake a few seconds to lower the blaster in his hand, and he told the others to stand down as well.

"Jonn?" was all the captain could manage, "So you're here for the hive stone then."

 

[Junker Jonn]

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Location: Charros IV, Former Industrial Zone
Tags: Atlas Drake

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As he picked his way down the hill to the factory, Jonn hummed a jaunty old spacer's tune to himself, actually in a good mood for once. Things were looking up! So far as he could tell, his crew had beaten all the other Mek-Sha scavs to this haul, and some of them were already calling out promising locations. Good, they CAN follow simple directions, he thought idly. But the best part was that, for once in his overwhelmingly busy life, he was alone. By the Force, how Junker loved to work alone. No one pestering him with logistical questions or petty interpersonal disputes. No one else's shoddy work throwing him off. Just the Kubaz and his fusioncutter, alone together at last.

Rounding the corner of the factory, Junker found himself staring down the barrel of a blaster.

"Ahhheeeeep!" he cried, the sound somewhere between scream, mewl, and whistle. For several seconds he just stood there, the gun pointed squarely in his face, waiting for all his troubles to end in a flash of crimson light. He planned to march right up to whatever gods oversaw this wretched galaxy and demand to know why they'd singled him out for such constant mistreatment. But the shot never came. After a moment, the barrel of the gun lowered, and the Kubaz's breathing and heart rate began a gradual return to their normal levels. Well, they did until he saw the face of the man who'd been wielding the gun. Then they kicked back up to overdrive. It was Atlas Drake .

Memories of Ossus flooded back, and Junker found himself wishing that he had been shot just then.

"D... Drake?" the scav captain asked, as if desperately hoping that the other man would say "no". "It's, uh, good to..." He tried to go for pleasantries, but he couldn't for the life of him think of one, and they all would have been blatant lies in any case. So he abandoned the attempt and instead asked what he really wanted to know. Frantically grabbing at the front of the other man's clothing, he brought their two rebreather-covered faces close together. "Tell it to me straight: are there ghosts here too?!" Because he'd learned his lesson on Ossus, and if there was any chance of hauntings literally anywhere on this blasted planet, he was out of here.

It took him a minute to process that Drake had said something to him. Behind his thick red goggles he blinked slowly, his rapidly panicking brain trying to figure out how the other man's words fit together. "The, uh... the hive whatnow?" That sounded like something the Bryn would make, not so much the Xi Charrians. But anything that carried a "the" in front of it was probably a rare artifact, and rare meant profitable. Greed and fear warred in his mind as he considered the idea. Maybe Drake would cut him in on this thing, since they had history; they'd kind of saved each other's lives on the Red Dragon. Well, Drake for him more than the other way around, but he'd helped, okay?

But even if Drake would cut him in... did he really want to get pulled into another of this guy's crazy adventures?

 

[Aleena Aryss]

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Location: Enroute to Charros IV​

Appearance: Aleena​

Tag: Travot Ravenna ​

Aleena moved through the back of the shuttle, trying to make sure all the gear was ready for their time on the planet. While she hadn't been involved in the war against the Bryn'adul, and while it seemed this was going to be a relatively safe journey, she was extremely nervous. She had heard stories about the fierce enemies, and her former Master had gotten back severely injured from that war many times over. ​

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She can still see the images in her mind, as she tried her best to tend to him. But before she could fall deeper into these thoughts, she heard a voice behind her that pulled her out.​

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"Knight Aryss?" the Padawan asked, who likely noticed that Aleena had been daydreaming.​

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"I'll be right there, sorry," she said in response with a smile. Aleena had heard the Padawan request for her to take breath masks along, so that's what she did. Once everything was prepared, she made her way towards Travot and offered a smile, hoping it would hide the otherwise obvious nervousness that surrounded her.​

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This was one of the first missions she went on since her Knighthood ceremony.​

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"Everything should be ready for the mission, Knight Ravenna." ​

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[Travot Ravenna]

Mykal-class Courier Charmed Life, Charros IV

Lanyria returned and sat down in the bulbous cockpit of the shuttle. The wings began to rotate around the vessel as Travot tilted the yoke to better deal with the atmospheric turbulences. Never a world known for its great weather, Charros IV's weather seemed to have come worse under whatever the Bryn'adul had done during their attempt to terraform the world. He spared a brief glance at his padawan.

"Well, the sensors have picked up a dozen or so life forms at this old factory," started the man, "and they don't seem to be Bryn'adul."

"That's good?"

"It may be some of those refugees trying to resettle the world..."

Can't blame them for that...

"...or it could be someone trying to loot whatever the Xi Charrians or Bryn'adul left behind. Plenty of weapons and other war material out there. It's not something we'd likely want to let circulate freely throughout the galaxy to whoever..."

Their ship broke through the last of the amber-colored clouds to reveal an intricate rock edifice that appeared to be riddled with holes. A casual observer might think it to be a primitive, ancient temple, but Travot knew better. The Xi Charrians considered making technology a holy task, and their factory cathredrals reflected it. As they neared the factory, he could make out craters around the factory and realized that not all of the holes that dotted the cathredral were entrances for the diminutive insectoids - rather, it was damage from the war. Their craft glided down to land on the factory's old loading dock, next to a dilapidated light freighter which Travot guessed had brought the factory's current inhabitants in. After powering the ship down, he strode through to the passenger bay and looked around the small group that included Aleena Aryss .

"Everyone ready?"

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

(Post Soundtrack: "Hymn for the Missing" by Red)

He felt as if he could spend the rest of his whole life cleaning up after the Bryn'adûl.

Charros IV was one more world ravaged, one more species terrified, one more mess. The genocide inflicted on other worlds had been largely spared here, thanks only to the fierce efforts of the Silver Jedi. Even saving the world had been too much for the Silvers, who had left the world to their own devices in the aftermath. Perhaps failure would have been a kindness to the huddled masses of Xi Charrians who survived and the broken civilization that was their reward.

Jerek had come on the whispers of a salvaging expedition, urging his friend Jorah to accompany him as well. What they found, more than the discarded, organic tech of a genocidal monster race, was a more precious form of salvage.

Lives.

"I see others going for the factories over there, let's take this one!" Jerek called to the Dathomiri boy, beckoning with his hand. Urgency laced through his tone and expression, though the man would have been surprised if Jorah couldn't size up the situation for himself. The distress of the trapped insectoids radiated strongly in the Force, he could almost feel it in his very bones.

He hadn't expected there to be lifeforms here. From all reports of the last Silver Jedi teams to evacuate, there were only scattered clusters of Xi Charrians remaining as victims to the near-extinction of their race. The rest were borne away on transports and should have continued to shelter with the Silvers for many more years. It wasn't time yet for the native insects to return to their shattered world, nor was it safe. Their presence would have ordinarily complicated the salvage efforts, now it endangered them.

The factory was almost entirely rubble now. Jerek staved back a cough as he stepped inside, holding a hand against his nose and mouth to shield it from the worst of the dust. His eyes strained to see in the haze, though the roof had mostly collapsed the sky was hardly clear and sunny here. The red-tinted heavens hosted harsh, yellow clouds that promised sulfuric rains on the horizon, and offered little in the way of illumination.

So Jerek had brought his own, and he clicked on the glowrod in his palm. He had several with him, enough to share with Jorah and more. He had intended to set up a few around their eventual workspace, to illuminate the items they found for salvage. All the planning and preparation looked to be for naught today, prompting the young Jedi to adjust in the moment.

"I'll set up a glowrod here at the entrance, in case we need a beacon back to it." Jerek explained for Jorah's benefit first, but also to pause for the moment. He reached out with the Force, hoping to touch one of the minds he sensed deeper in the rubble and debris in the factory's remains. To announce that someone had arrived and reassure them that help was close at hand. "We'll need to proceed cautiously. Whatever caused the Xi Charrians to become trapped, we don't want to trigger a repeat for ourselves, right?"

Jerek stood back from his work. He had affixed the glowrod, its lens cover removed so the light diffused more evenly over the area, to a broken exit sign with a length of cord. The Jedi squinted at it again, it looked like a conventional exit sign, just with words written in a language he couldn't read. He supposed the Xi Charrians could, and the thought prompted him to turn back to the debris, as if he could simply peer through it.

Jerek blinked himself back to reality, a momentary disconnect. He found his gaze settling on the young shaman instead. "Jorah? See if you can find a safe way to get us close."

For the moment, he would try to connect to their scared victims another way.

Jerek closed his eyes, breathing as deeply as he dared, and let himself sink into the Force.

Jorah zos Darnus​

 

[Aleena Aryss]

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Location: Enroute to Charros IV​

Appearance: Aleena​

Tag: Travot Ravenna ​

Aleena sat quietly inside the passenger bay, a medkit hugged against her chest while her mind did the usual thing... going through every possible doomsday scenario she could come up with. What if the Bryn'adul were still down there? What if some scavengers looking for technology became hostile and attacked? What if she slipped over a rock and made a fool out of herself.​

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She gulped at the idea and in the final moments, as the ship began to slow down and the vibrating hum of the engines began to disappear, the panic briefly spiked. ​

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It was only when she heard Travot Ravenna 's voice that she finally snapped out of it. She took a deep breath and turned her blue eyes to the Knight.​

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"I'm uh.. I'm ready, Knight Ravenna." she offered a weak smile and got up to her feet, her breathing mask and medical equipment ready. She really hoped it would be refugees down there. People she could help, and not people who wanted to hurt her or worse.​

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[Yula Perl]

Peyton Steele | Kyra Perl​

"Sure, I'll take a couple."

Yula flashed a grateful smile to Peyton, who'd fortunately, come prepared. Just what she'd expected from a fellow undergrounder. "Make sure Cuan is careful when he lands. I feel like this place might fall apart if we step in the wrong spot."

"And it's because you love me." Came the cheeky reply to her Why am I here?

The speeder ride to the former industrial sector was short, and already she was picking up signals from other scavenging crews. Drake was around here somewhere, and Jerek and the witch boy were one of the first teams to set upon a dilapidated factory. There were a few others scattered as well--the Silvers were in the nearby system, so it made sense that they'd venture back to Charros to check on the terraformed world after the Bryn had collapsed.

The wind rushed into them as they traveled, hitting like the heat from a hairdryer. Something familiar surged through Yula, pulsing in time with her heart. It didn't dissipate, but a pit twisted in her stomach the closer they drew to one of the buildings.

"Does something feel weird to you?" She called out to Peyton as a humanoid figure started to take shape at the precipice of a bombed-out factory. A few seconds closer and her lips parted in surprise. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"

The speeder skidded to an unsteady halt and Yula all but jumped from the vehicle. The knot in her stomach was worse now, threatening to swallow her whole unless…

…unless?

Yula didn't move, stiffly staring down her sister while danger sense flared along every nerve.

"Peyton, scan the area. Something's…"

Wrong. Bryn remnants? No, it's something different. Something I'm not seeing yet.

With her little sister in the mix, things felt all the more dire.

"Looking for a new apartment?"

 

[Peyton Steele]

What was it they said about the Underground? Always be prepared? She was used to working in small teams, small units, with limited supplies and even more limited help. Coming down here, it was checking out the aftermath of a war, this wasn't much of what she did, but well, times, they were a changing. And now she was having to make sure she was fine. The Brubreen's youth seemed to not have triggered as much of her semi-aquatic side but now, well, some precautions needed to be done.

Not that Charros was exactly the be all end all of resort destinations. Toxic air.

Grabbing through her bag, she nodded. "Yeah, I got a few more, pair for you. And yeah, not letting Cuan land haphazard, I'll send off a message to give him a warning here."

She checked her side arms with a nod. They needed to be ready, and to do that, well, it meant to check her weapons. And well, also the Force. The blonde looked over at Yula. "Feel… oh, right… the Force." The blonde nodded and took a deep breath, and it was already too late. She saw who it was faster than she felt who it was.

"That your…" sister was what she wanted to say. This was the one that… she new there was a connection to Coren, but couldn't place it. Uncle, maybe?

As she stepped out, she grabbed her macrobinos. "I don't know where to look in the Force… this whole place feels fethed." She looked over at Yula Perl and Kyra Perl .

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot nodded Aleena Aryss , "Let's go then."

The knight stepped out of the rear ramp and promptly slipped on his breath mask as a gust of warm air washed against him. Lanyria quickly followed in his wake, the young nautolan even stepping ahead of him to gawk at the sophisticated architecture in front of them. Travot let a brief smile crease his face at her wonder and delight. He sometimes had to remind himself how big the galaxy truly was, and how many different sights and wonders it continued to hold for those who traveled among the stars. But a glance at the damage wrought onto the place quickly subdued that happy thought.

If we had only lived in different times...peaceful times. No point on dwelling on that now though, is there?

He closed his eyes briefly and let the currents of the Force guide his senses. He could hear the faint rustling of the wind into the sacred corridors and rooms of the cathredral, and among that ambience, a handful of voices...voices he did not understand, and voices that judging by their pitch, weren't humanoid. The Xi Charrians? It'd make sense...wouldn't it. He reached out through the Force to feel their presence and came away with a mixture of both relief and trepidation coming from the group as well as a sense of impending danger. He turned to the other knight and pointed at a hole in the wall.

"I sense there are some people that way...maybe natives? I don't sense any feelings of hostility among them - certainly nothing like the Bryn'adul I've encountered in the past - but something dangerous is happening there. We should go."

He sprinted forward towards the opening, with his young padawan quickly falling in behind him.

 

[Audren Sykes]

Charros IV
Objective(s): Salvage, BYOO

Exploration droids buzzed out of the Tínen Sûl's open cargo bay, followed by the engineers in survival gear. Multiple comm receivers were set up outside the cargo bay and cables connected up through the magcon field to a series of computers inside. The droids carried differing and specific sensors and each continually transmitted the data back to a dedicated receiver, which fed the data into the computers loaded with analysis programs. Those programs filtered down the data to relevant and important bits then pushed to a centralized analysis computer which made benefit and risk assessments on the locations; while the data would be reviewed and the final decisions made by sentient beings the setup would allow the team to form general ideas at a glance. Audren wasn't the primary person watching the progress but he was there to keep an eye out for anything, well, eye-catching.

Without warning one of the screens showing visual data went dark. Status monitors at the bottom showed that a signal was still being received but the drone had received minor damage and wasn't moving in the slightest. The technician played back the recording for the last thirty seconds, showing the drone descending towards what had been the foundation of the factory cathedral. Apparently it carried sensors that - when in contact with the foundation - could detect strength and the computers could determine if it was structurally sound. If it was then they could use it as a starting point for their own facility. As it had been settling down however there had been a slight irregularity detected in the ground consistent with the debris that could be seen through it's sub-par visual sensors, then black. As the tech began to roll the footage back again to try and identify the debris the comm crackled to life.

"Factory team to central, pull up my vidfeed."

There were no spare monitors so the tech at the computer flipped one showing the useless black visual from the droid. The stream was relatively still, showing that the engineer was trying to hold it steady and was not moving forward. The moderate zoom was focused on what appeared to be a solid gray blob. Without being asked the computer tech was pulling up recorded visuals from the initial flyover to see if that blob was already there before they landed. The field engineer kept talking though, he didn't let them draw their own conclusions.

"It's hard to tell from this distance, but it looked like the droid's landing struts set down, then there was a sound and that gray blob appeared where the droid was. It doesn't look like a droid malfunction."

The Sephi had pulled Concord data on the Bryn while traveling here and had given himself a crash course on known common weapons and traps. Predictably though, he'd forgotten that there was a possibility they were out here in the open. There were only a couple that fit with the description, and only one that fit both what the engineers had seen and what they saw from the droid. It had to have been a Barad impact grenade. His own comm mic went live a second later.

"Attention all field units, live ordinance in the area. Engineers pull back to central, take extra care to step only where you've already stepped. Droids to continue their scans but not to land on any indigenous surface."

Audren ignored his own directive. He pulled on a breath mask just before stepping through the magcon field; the terraforming had turned the air here unpleasant for non-Bryn species. Technically he could simply have sealed the faceplate of his own exploration suit but the mask provided enhancements that the suit did not. The immediate order of business was to check the perimeter and ensure there wasn't anything close to the ship; fortunately everything was clear within fifty meters. Next was to head towards the factory.

He met the two engineers carefully returning to the ship and had them stay with him. As long as he cleared the way there shouldn't be too much of a problem, and he could use the extra set of eyes when he got there. Just at a glance, he could see various bladed weapons and what were possibly grenades lying around. One of the engineers pointed out that there was a pattern to how the detritus was positioned, if you took the chaos from the sudden appearance of the almost-concrete into account. Very, very carefully they moved about as the Twi'lek explained what he was seeing. According to him it was quite simple: the equipment had been racked up, something had caused the place to shake, and the racks had fallen. The pattern suggested that the racks were right...around...this...corner.

 

[Kyra Perl]

Kyra's expression froze as she caught sight of a familiar face across the field. She shoulda known better than to fall for that. Classic Perl trap, she should have looked at who the signal had come from.

Kyra discounted the nudge as nothing more than a sibling sense and stepped forward... and the ground clicked in warning. Kyra's expression said it all, her annoyance turning to horror as she found the real trap all along.

She barely got a shield up before she was blown back, the blast rattling her ear drums and sending pain through her skull.

The pink blur went flying, landing in one piece 20 feet away.

"You coulda... warned about that...." Kyra groaned and spat blood, the disoriented projectile slowly picking themselves back up off the ground and looking forlornly across the space. There was more where that came from... and a factory of people still needing their help.

She couldn't hear past the ringing in her ears.

Crap.

Yula Perl Peyton Steele

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

[ armor ] [ talisman ] [ bow ]

They had been going from planet to planet for what seemed like an eternity.

It wasn't. But it was long enough that the young Nightbrother had exhausted his supply of bantha jerky. And the cache of nerf jerky. And the emergency rations that were simply labeled meat. Which meant they were left with only the Jedi rations.

Which were 100% certified organic, Kosher, and vegan.

The operative word being vegan.

And with the devastating effects of the Bryn'adul terraforming process, there was absolutely no chance of hunting in the Scar Worlds. Even if a native species survived, they'd be endangered and protected for fear of their extinction. All of which the hunter could appreciate -- population management of prey was a very important part of maintaining any food chain. But what he was less thrilled with was the prospect of surviving off oats, honey, and whatever other gods forsaken plants that the Jai had lumped together to form today's flavor: Banana Chili Meiloorun

...it was no wonder Jedi fell to the Dark Side eating food of this kind.

"I see others going for the factories over there, let's take this one!" Jerek's voice called from below.

Circling overhead, the bat-like creature was circling in an effort to get a perspective on the condition of the world. Not as badly transformed as some of the more devastated planets held by the Bryn'adul, but enough that ash hung thick in the air from the volcanic eruptions that had reshaped a portion of the planet's surface.

Beyond the physical, the spirit realm seemed to closely mimic the chaos of the earthly. Fire spirits burned with a chaotic intensity. Smoke demons seemed to peer back from the abyssal depths of volcanic vents, as though waiting to unleash plumes of toxic smoke.

Plunging downward, the small brown bat rocketed in a dive that became a swooping arc toward the same factory where the long-haired Jedi now stood, glowstick in hand. "I'll set up a glowrod here at the entrance, in case we need a beacon back to it," the Jai offered as the bat transformed back into the figure of a young Nightbrother.

"That would be best," the youth agreed, the Basic still awkward on his tongue as he spoke it. Adjusting the lay of the plasma bow across his back, the young warrior remarked, "The balance of nature on this world has been cast into complete chaos. I'm finding it difficult to cast white magic." He wondered if the experience was at all the same for the Jedi. Could Jerek access his light side of the Force? Or did he, too, only feel the Dark Side? "I can only hear the spirits of the Fanged God."

Taking a few steps inside of the ruins, the young Dathomirian dropped to a knee and held his hands up to his ears. He was quiet for a moment, then noted, "Well, the spirits of the Fanged God, and maybe some Xi Charrians."

The inhabitants of Charros IV were an insectoid species. The chattering was distinct, but... "It's hard to distinguish between different speakers. Three, at the very least, I think."

"We'll need to proceed cautiously. Whatever caused the Xi Charrians to become trapped, we don't want to trigger a repeat for ourselves, right?" Jerek noted, as the Nightbrother picked himself back up.

Glancing over at the Jai, the youth answered, "Nothing natural, from what I can tell."

A loud creaking noise echoed through the ruins of the factory, followed by the clang of metal as several pieces of scaffolding came crashing down from above.

With a nod toward the debris, the Nightbrother quipped, "Or simply the building collapsing in on itself."

"See if you can find a safe way to get us close."

The boy drew in a deep breath. Then he closed his eyes and brought his hands up, almost as though in prayer. After a moment, he exhaled and opened his eyes and turned back toward the Jedi. Almost apologetically, he remarked, "I'll need to use shadow magic."

It was unquestionably a warning.

Lowering his palms, the boy set his legs in a squat posture as he seemed to push his arms down -- exhaling as he did. Then, turning the palms up, he brought his hands up toward his chest, inhaling.

He really didn't like casting shadow magic.

"Ama het res ikjen detyan," the boy uttered, the words seeming to echo as he offered them. "Ama het res ikjen detyan." As he said the chant a second time, he stretched out his left hand, the palm facing downward.

"Ama het res ikjen detyan."

As the boy turned his palm over, a thick, black centipede crawled between his fingers, biting into the palm of the witch-boy's hand. Closing his hand into a tight fist, there was a sickening squish as the centipede was crushed.

Then, it seemed to catch fire.

Green, eldritch flames that enveloped the boy's fist, as the centipede seemed to dissolve into the familiar mist of the spirit ichor. The Nightbrother's eyes snapped open, but an oily, black film seemed to pass over them as the child spoke in a haunting, otherworldly voice. "Lat'lah shuree res j'lelrat het onos."

At the invocation, a series of wisps seemed to appear. A thin trail of magical ichor vanishing into the shadows of the factory ruins.

Gasping for breath, as though winded from a marathon, the now haggard looking youth looked over at the Jedi, fighting back a wave of nausea as he warned, "We must be cautious. These spirits will happily lead us to our death."

Jerek Zenduu​

 

[Aleena Aryss]

​

Location: Enroute to Charros IV​

Appearance: Aleena​

Tag: Travot Ravenna ​

Stepping out of the shuttle, Aleena also quickly put on her breathing mask. Once it was secured, she began to look around and take note of the environment. This place had seen great battle and the disastrous events for many who were killed or injured still echoed through the Force. This place felt horrible to her Empathic senses, and not just because of the lingering past.​

​

She also felt something up ahead - people, and they were in danger.​

​

Aleena gulped and turned her eyes to Travot Ravenna , who seemed ready to go out and help her. Why couldn't she have that type of courage? ​

​

"I sense them, too." Aleena then admitted, but her discomfort about the whole situation was quite clear in her tone.​

​

The blonde then decided to remove the silver hilt of her lightsaber from her belt and held it close as she began to move after Travot. If people were in danger, they would possibly need medical assistance. That she could help with... but fighting? She really hoped not to get drawn into a fight.​

​

​

 

[Krek Libera]

CHARROS IV
XI CHAR FACTORY
Aleena Aryss Travot Ravenna | OPEN (I can be all up in your factory idc)

​

They scrambled back in fear. Smallfolk, all dressed the same -- Krek guessed they were all of the same order, like monks or religious worshipers. Yet, they inhabited some sort of factory. Perhaps they had been cast out by whatever calamity had ruined their world, the same one that turned the atmosphere into one she and her children could breath comfortably in.

But there was nothing else. Her four children looked to her, searching for approval; she advanced first to the cowering creatures. She grabbed the oldest, lifting the man. Shivering, he began to sing in some language she did not understand. The others joined in. It seemed to pique the interest of her children as well, pausing their hunger, if only briefly.

Still, they needed to eat. Her children were small. They needed to grow. Grow strong, great, enough to consume an entire world...

Why?

Krek gripped her head, a splitting headache coming on. She was hungry.

"Eat," she growled, finding no comfort in the Ketee language she spoke. Her children needed little encouragement.

Crunch. Crack. Scream.

The hymn went silent, and Krek dragged off the man.