Allies:
Sahan Dragr
|
Reggie Rau |
Domina Prime
|
Mevia Vizsla
|
Shai Maji
|
Shakka Bralor
|
Koda Fett
|
Yael Kandar
Enemies: ENGAGING:
Valery Noble
|
Lily Decoria
|
PRESENT:
Amani Serys
|
Silas Westgard
|
Elias Edo
|
Jonyna Si
|
Briana Sal-Soren
|
Irvelghrikk
FIVE YEARS PRIOR
Siv nodded with some satisfaction as Sahan took the first strikes from the group of training droids well. He swerved past their hits, blocking with his armor when necessary. One of the droid's shock prods hit the back of Sahan's cuirass, but like a real lightsaber, it bounced harmlessly off the beskar plate. Sahan stepped back to make room between him and his foes, drawing his blaster pistol -- mercifully, it didn't fly out of his hands this time -- and taking time to fire clear and steady shots at each of the droids. The first droid was caught off guard and left with a sizzling hole through its appendage, but the others were able to raise their shock rods and block the incoming blaster bolts.
He shook his head.
"A Sith or Jedi will be quicker to parry your blows than these droids," he reminded Sahan.
"Your lethality depends on your quickness." The boy's aim would come with time and experience, he knew. AT his age now, Siv's combat skills were more reflexive and instinctive than anything else. But he also knew that Sahan's time could come sooner than either of them could anticipate.
"Overwhelm your opponent. You are a Mandalorian; fight like one."
Siv's taunt was interrupted by the arrival of reinforcements; young, hot-blooded reinforcements. He didn't know their names, but they were the typical stereotype of Enclave youth these days: hungry for blood, hungry for valor. A little
too hungry. Past the point of reason. But reason had been thrown out by the Jedi the moment they had stepped foot on Rodian soil. And then Shai Maiji touched the ground.
”Y’all wanna start a war? Over one karkin’ stupid kid that tried to be a hero?!” She glared at Siv for a moment to get her point across, before shifting her piercing gaze to the Jedi. ”And you lot wanna entertain this? After ours and yours fought and bled together for decades?”
"I'm the one trying to compromise here," Siv growled, his ire provoked by the Shistavanen's insertion into an encounter about which she knew little context. His hand remained resting on his blaster pistol, aware that Valery's hand still was at her lightsaber. But the truth was, despite the self-righteous chit the Jedi were preaching, SIv had been the one here trying to make a compromise. They didn't hold any obligation to turn the Padawan back over to the Jedi, especially one who had been caught sabotaging Enclave networks. The Jedi should've been grateful, yet like always their sense of superiority blinded them.
More Mandalorians were arriving, and the tension -- already taught -- was beginning to rise even higher. Past the point where Siv would have control over the direction of this conversation. The young bloods were practically already at the Jedi's throats, even without their provocations.
"A soldier should know his limits, Mandalorian. War will lead to nothing but the end of your people. The fact of the matter is, you just don't have the weight to throw around."
There it was again. That blind sense of superiority made Siv want to gag. Was the Jedi willfully ignorant or just plain stupid? Threats that enraged Foundlings hurled in the training yard carried more weight behind them than the Jedi's vague threats. The entire might of the Sith had not been enough to stamp out the Mandalorians; the bureaucratic train wreck of the Galactic Alliance was a featherweight in comparison.
No longer was the rendezvous quiet; explosions echoed in the distance, raised voices clamored against each other, drowning each other out. Hands lay on blaster pistols, on lightsabers. Suddenly a quiet, familiar voice seemed to pierce through the din, aimed directly at Siv.
"You've got your numbers now, Siv." The newest voice to that calamity chimed in, "What will you do next? The Jedi won't let this go on, and I don't think you want to bend to their demands."
He gritted his teeth under his helmet. Siv's entire life, he had never been the decision maker. Whatever had been needed of him, he'd done it. Whether that be a target taken out, a facility infiltrated, report filed; Siv had completed those to exaction. But politics was beyond him. He wasn't a leader. The future of the
Mando'ade rested on his shoulders, and he didn't feel he could be the one to seal the fate of his people, for victory or for death.
He looked back and saw his son.
His son.
In that single moment, his anxiety dissipated, replaced by iron in his heart. He knew what he had to do. The right path wouldn't be easy -- no, it would be very fethin' hard -- but the fire of adversity would forge
strength. Strength anew. No more would his people cower. He turned back to the Jedi Master. And in that moment, everything went to hell.
The Padawan made a move to break three, freeing herself temporarily from Sahan's grip. In retaliation, Sahan lashed out at the Padawan with a grappling hook while another Mandalorian's wrist rocket detonated inches in front of the Padawan. But Valery had seen the sudden escape too, and raised her hand to simultaneously break the Padawan's chain and stop Sahan's cable.
"Now!" Valery called out to her fellow Jedi.
"Secure her!"
Valery's violet lightsaber ignited in hand. The line had been crossed.
Siv's reaction was swift, and lethal. He raised his left arm towards Valery, only a few paces away, and fired point-blank with his concealed vambrace-mounted disruptor pistol at the Jedi. The concentrated particle beams would be difficult for the Jedi's lightsaber to block; unable to be deflected, she would either have to attempt to absorb the shots or face the consequences. Praying that the disruptor shots would buy him time, he launched into the air with a short high-powered thrust from his jetpack towards the Padawan, launching his own grappling line to subdue the escapee.
He kicked off the thrust, letting gravity pull him back down to land on top of the Padawan -- and knock the hopefully-trapped younglings into the ground.
"Stay down," he snarled at her. The veteran Mandalorian clenched his fists, and his combat vibrospines in his gauntlet -- tipped with lethal Devaronian blood-poison -- extended to their full length, a promise of blinding pain should they even brush against the skin. He stomped with his right foot and several explosive munitions from his knee-pad rocket launcher flew into the air, spiraling in erattic patterns not towards the Jedi, but their ship's engines. If the Jedi wanted blood, then so be it. They wouldn't be going
anywhere.