Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Remains (Zandra)

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo Ren landed on the forest moon of Endor in his Corellian Corvette in a clearing, which wasn't easy to find in the tree-filled celestial being. He gazed out the viewport at all the green, all the foliage and wood. This moon was full of history. This was where the First Galactic Empire had collapsed, where the second Death Star was destroyed, where the first Emperor Palpatine was killed. He could feel the disturbance in the Force from here, created by the death of so many people and one of the most powerful Sith that had ever lived.

It almost made him want to weep. Almost.
------------------------------------------------------------

The landing ramp lowered and out came Milo with a squad of Stormtroopers, there for security reasons. He was wearing his black cloak, complete with hood and mask, and had his lightsaber easily accessible, same as always. As his soldiers secured the perimeter, Ren breathed in the air of the forest through his mask. The scenery was absolutely stunning, and the air was pure and clean, a far cry to the usual pollution and stink that accompanied most planets. He could feel the energy of the planet around him, from the floor to the treetops, an abundance of life. He waited then, standing there and meditating in place, listening to nature and the ripples in the Force, waiting for his contact to arrive.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
For Zandra, this was just another hunk of rock in space. No planet held any meaning to her any more. Mandalore was close to claiming her heart, but she'd left the second her children were old enough to hunt and cook food for themselves. She sent credits to them, of course. But she had to leave. Before she fell in love with the world and decided to stay for good. It had too many memories.

The tiny Echani woman stepped off her ship, the old rusted out, dying freighter that she lovingly had named Zax The Beautiful, even thought it was anything but. She ran a hand through her short messy white hair, leaving it to stick up in places at odd angles. She didn't care. She had nobody to impress. Ever. Her white shorts were fraying on the edges, her stockings were torn to shreds, and her tanktop had so many holes in it, one might almost think it was intentional. She checked her knives. One strapped to her thigh, one in her leather boot, two on the inside of her late husbands leather jacket. And her vibroblade. Just in case.

Working with Sith was always a gamble. They'd just as soon kiss you as they would disembowel you. It was always a 50/50 chance. Zandra was a gambler. Sher when the odds were not in her favor. But she needed the credits. Desperately. And this job? It sounded easy enough.

She cleared her throat, hands deep in her pocket as she approached the meditating Sith.

"Oi. I'm here," she announced, then thought it through, "But then, I guess ya already knew that. Space Wizard 'n all."

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo turned to face the woman, a pirate hired to help collect some artifacts they would hopefully find here. He removed his mask, revealing his white hair, green eyes, and chiseled good looks. A genuine smile crossed his face as he bowed to the Echani, showing her much more respect than he owed her in an attempt to win her over.

"Milo Ren, at your service. I'm glad you made it on schedule. Come with me. The bunker is only about a mile or two away."

The Knight of Ren put his mask back on and let his face fall back into a neutral setting. He wasn't happy about working with commoners like her, but she had gotten quite the recommendation from a friend of his. She seemed fine enough, anyway. It would be easy credits for her and useful help for him. He needed her skills. Plain and simple. The Empire had always had a facet for hired help, and this was one aspect of the old ways that he found had its uses.

He walked north, into the forest, but then suddenly stopped. Looking the scruffy woman over, Ren noted the torn clothing and chuckled to himself. My, she wasn't winning any points for appearance. He decided to be slightly gentlemanly to Zendra when he spoke, anyways, a byproduct of his upbringing.

"Are you fine going out into the forest like that? There's some awfully sharp vegetation there. I have a set of women's clothing that fit this setting better, if you'd like to change."

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
"Zandra," she introduced, "Call me Z."

Zandra wasn't exactly a looker. Not without makeup, anyway. And her thick smudged, slept in eyeliner wasn't exactly winning her any beauty contests. Racoon eye was not a good look for anybody. But Zandra had more important things on her mind than how she looked to a Sith. Who cared anyway?

"Eh. Trust me, I guarantee that no matter how sharp they are, I've been hurt much much worse."

She pulled both hands out of her pockets, revealing a silvery prosthetic hand. A parting gift from a Jedi. Nasty space wizard took her hand and left her for dead. She didn't trust Jedi either. All she had to trust was Lady Luck herself. She pulled on a pair of black leather gloves, then fished out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She stuck one between her cheap ruby lips and started to light it.

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo shrugged, not particularly offended. She could get cut to shreds for all he cared, as long as she was fine with it and did her job.

"Suit yourself, Ms.Tal'verda. Please, follow me. And don't smoke. The natives will smell it from a mile away."

He was, of course, speaking of the Ewoks, who were extremely vigilant of outsiders and quite often underestimated. They may have appeared cute and harmless, but if the records were right, they defeated a whole regiment of Stormtroopers here.

Better safe than sorry.

Walking now into the forest, Milo spoke to the scruffy woman, conveying charm into his voice.

"Please, tell me, do you know what happened here? Why this moon is important to me?"

He was making light conversation now as they walked to pass the time it would take to reach the location of interest. He assumed that she wasn't much of a conversationalist, but it didn't hurt to try.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
No smoking? The Echani bit back a sigh and snuffed her newly wasted cigarette out on her own palm. Damn. She was going to have a bad time if she couldn't even feed this particular addiction. She was just gunna have to put her all into it to distract her.
He was talking again. Honestly, Zandra was surprised. She was under the impression that all Sith were stoic killing machines. She raised a white eyebrow, looking around. So far, she hadn't found any sharp plants. Maybe her tall boots were taking most of the damage for her?

"Bein' honest, guy, history ain' exactly my cup 'a gin," she shrugged, "But I think I heard somethin' 'bout it. Emperor what's-his-face and the giant death moon thing, right?"

Her daughter would probably know this. She was the one who enjoyed history. The one who studied, learned language, listened to stories... And to think the girl was absolutely convinced that she was stupid! Ha! Girl didn't know what sort of genius she was.

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo smirked to himself. He sensed her surprise at the fact that he wasn't the silent bringer of death that she expected Sith to be. This amused him slightly.

"I'm not a Sith, Ms. Tal'verda. I am a Knight of Ren. Although I don't believe you know what that is, nor care. We probably all appear the same in your eyes. That's fine. And yes, you're right. Emperor Palpatine and the second Death Star both perished here. The end...of the Empire."

He said that last sentence somberly, breathing in the air of the jungle around them, almost sucking in the memory of this moon. The foliage wasn't particularly troublesome yet, although he wouldn't be surprised if it got harder farther on.

He saw the first evidence of the Empire's involvement then, to his right. A wrecked AT-ST, rusted and with various plants sticking out of it, lay on the floor, the sides of the intimidating vehicle crushed. What had happened here? It was very fascinating to him, and he stopped to soak the scene in. How had they brought down such a powerful machine? He couldn't think of a way to do so without explosives or anti-vehicle equipment. Perhaps the Force? But to his knowledge, there were no Jedi down here during the battle. How then?

He was lost in thought now, simply staring at the wreckage, trying to ponder the story of this tableau...

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
Not a Sith? Then what was with the dark clothes? She supposed even Jedi had bad fashion sense too though. Didn't matter what he was, or what the difference was. All Space wizards were the same- well, no. Her son wasn't like them. He was....
Who was she kidding? The entire village had been afraid of him. He knew it. It was probably why he ran away and vanished, abdicating his duty as the clan Alit'buir. Silly boy... Didn't he know that they loved him? No matter what he was?

Zandra shrugged again, looking the ruined, ancient machine over with her employer. She let out a low whistle.

"No wonder they lost," she said quietly, "look at that thing. Buncha scruffy rebels took that thing out? They didn' stand a chance."

That would probably make him angry. Zandra was a bit beyond care. She wasn't brought here to be tactful in her speech. She was here because she was an expert thief.

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Ren shook his head at the pirate's comment, still pondering the scene.

"How did they lose? It puzzles me."

He had to tear his eyes away from the wreckage in order to continue. They kept walking.

"Not much farther now."

Looking about, Milo wondered silently to himself how long it had been since another human being had set foot on the forest moon. The area was untouched by man or alien, overgrown with life, not skyscrapers or levels of city. It was nice.

"The moon is beautiful, no?"

He had asked this slightly rhetorical question after a pause in an attempt to make conversation. What else was there to talk to an Echani pirate about? Her latest plunder? Her two children that she was constantly thinking about? He didn't dare mention that. He sensed that was a touchy subject. So the Knight had instead decided to let her lead the conversation, in an attempt to play nice and make friends.

After all, you never knew when the skills of a pirate would come in handy.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
She didn't trust his not-sith-not-jedi person. He was a space wizard. In her experience, that only meant danger, death. They were too powerful. A normal woman, even a woman with Lady Luck on her side, could only hope to fend them off, not defeat one. It was impossible. She'd watched waves of Mandalores best fall with a flick of these space gods wrists. Her daughter almost died because of them. The fact that she survived was only proof that Lady luck had kissed her as well. But she would have those scars forever.

"The moon?" she looked around at the vegetation and shrugged, "Eh. I'm a city girl myself. If there ain't trash on the ground, I don' feel quite at home."

She smirked, hands still deep in her pocket as she walked. He was trying to make conversation? Interesting. She could somehow feel she was itching to ask something. What it was, of course, she had no idea. She was ordinary. Stupid, compared to him. Still...

"If you wanna ask me something, just do it."

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
He wasn't sure whether to be cautious or blunt with this woman. He decided to be a bit of both at the moment as they progressed. The vegetation was getting thicker, hindering their progress. He might as well talk to the pirate, and her request for a question was as good as an excuse as any.

"Why do you hate us 'space-wizards', eh? Not all of us are evil, or interested in picking a fight. Death doesn't constantly follow us around, at least, not all the time, although I can't necessarily say that for the Sith. Most of us are just people, people with a gift. I fight when necessary. I kill when I have to, like you. I'm not an angel, sure, but I'm no demon, either. I just...am. Do you understand, Zandra?"

He looked at Tal'verda carefully, studying the rugged Echani. Ren listened carefully, with both his ears and the Force, gauging her reaction.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
Ah. There it was. The million dollar question. Why did she hate them? Well, why did anyone? Experience. Lots of it. Bad ones.

"Where do I even start?" she chuckled darkly, looking up at the clear sky above the treeline, "When I was starting out, a random Sith decided it was going to be great fun to slaughter my crew. Why? Can't say. I wasn't a pirate back then. I was a merchant. I survived, obviously, but barely. I got this-"

She pulled her tanktop down, showing a long red line up her torso, almost to her neck.

"Then the damn Jedi and their damn war got my friend killed. My husband almost died too. Then when my son was born, we find out he's-"
She hesitated, but bit her lip and continued. Her son was a grown man now. She didn't have to protect him.
"Find out he's one of you. 'gifted' as you say. But with that gift? Made him a target for every Jedi, Sith, whatever that happened to pass by Mandalore. My husband had to kill one of 'em once. Tried to take him away from us. Nobody will ever find the body. We made sure of that."

She let that last sentence hang in the air for a moment. Her family did not mess around. They protected each other. Fiercely.

"Then, there was this-" she raised her metalic silver hand with a little smirk, "admittedly, I deserved it. Attacked a cargo ship. Damn Miralian was smuggling spice. Of course she'd attract pirates. Shoulda known she'd have body guards. Jus' didn' expect Jeedi of all things."

She took a deep breath, putting her hand back in her pocket.

"So, yeah. There you go. My reasons. I've met exactly one space magician besides my son, that didn't try to kill me.... but he cheated at cards."

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo let out a chuckle at her last sentence, curiosity satisfied.

"I haven't tried to kill you either, you know. But I'm sorry you've had to go through all of that pain. Ah, these plants are irritating. Step back."

Ren unclipped his lightsaber and activated it, sending the blood-red beam of pure energy out. He then took a swing at the tall plantlife, easily hacking through the tough foliage, creating a much easier path to tread. Satisfied, the Knight turned off his weapon as fast as he had unsheathed it, clipping it back onto his belt.

"Much better. So, your son. Is he a Jedi? A Sith? Or is he like me?"

He led the way through the now manageable terrain, holding a gloved hand out to help the Echani pirate over the still pointy plants.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
Zandra took the hand, however reluctantly. He was being... kind? How absurd. Still, it was better than trying to kill her.

"My son? Nah. Corrin's Mandalorian. He never joined up with none of 'em. He's got his space magic, but he'll always be a child of Mandalore.... at least, that's what he said. He ran away sometime last year. Just abdicated his duties as clan leader and vanished. Nobody knows where he went. Disappeared like his father did."

She shrugged again, stepping over the plants.

"Don' matter in the end. He's a grown man now. Can do as he likes. Got his sister all worried though. Wish he'd left a note at least."

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Ren winced in emotional pain. That story struck too close for comfort. It reminded him too much of himself, when he ran away from his parents without so much as even an explanation. He hadn't seen them since he left. Maybe he would go visit them soon. Maybe not. Milo furrowed his brow, unseen thanks to the mask, and replied with a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"Sometimes it's much harder to say goodbye than it is to actually leave."

The Knight looked forward now and saw a slight shimmering of rusted durasteel, surrounded by overgrown flora and fauna. They found it. Ren looked on in awe at the discovery.

That was the shield relay dish.

Or what was left of it, anyways. It had been blown apart, after all. But there could still be some objects of value in the wreckage. A piece of armor here, a rusted tool there, all items that could be refurbished back to their original glory. But he wasn't after trinkets. He was looking for the good stuff, and as awestruck as he was by the historical significance of the site before him, he kept that in mind as he spoke.

"See all that rusted metal there? That was the shield generator that protected the Death Star. If my sources are correct, there should be an old outpost nearby, possibly with untouched items, artifacts that we can take back. I think it's west from here, so let's head that way."

Ren found it hard to look away, like with the AT-ST, but he again forced himself to as he walked on, pushing through the jungle floor yet again.

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
Why did she talk to him? She told herself she wouldn't. It was just a job. She'd take the credits and go after this and never look back. But the weird thing was, this kid reminded her of her son. It was unsettling, the similarities. She kept her mouth shut for a moment, refusing the comment on the emotion in his voice.

She noted where he was pointing. It was time for work now. Time to shift through the years of decay and look for something worthwhile. It was like all of her other treasure hunting adventures. Basically grave robbing. She half wondered how many people died on that day. Well, it was a long time ago. War killed a lot of people.

"Anything in particular you're lookin' for?"

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
Milo's eyes swept through the thick jungle flora, stopping on potential areas of interest.

"Yes, armor is priority. Then I would go on to weapons, although I suppose anything that small that's metallic is rusted to oblivion now. Other than that, anything is good, even if it looks like hell. We have people who can repair and polish."

He shrugged the memories of his mother and father aside for the moment, even though his heart dully ached at the thought of that. He had pushed them aside for quite a while now. But now, he had to work.

"What looks like a good place to start, Ms. Zandra?"

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
"Mrs. Tal'verda," she corrected, "Tal'verda is my married name."

Even if her husband was long dead, she kept his name like she kept his jacket. She was married to his memory, even if his body had long ago rotted away. She would never betray that memory.

"I say we start over there. Closer. Come on, boy. Ya may be payin' me, but I ain't gunna be sortin' through century old garbage by myself here."

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

Milo Ren

A Howling Voice in the Desert
"Whatever you prefer, Mrs. Tal'verda."

Milo had said this neutrally, not conveying his displeasure at being correct. Ren followed the pointed finger and reached out with both hands towards the twisted, gnarled metal. He grunted in effort as the mess went up with his arms as he raised them. Milo then pulled his arms apart, separating the tangled mess and making the product much easier to search as he gently lowered it back down, a sheen of perspiration on his masked forehead. The Knight turned back to the pirate, looking at her carefully.

"Is that better?"

[member="Zandra Tal'verda"]
 
Damn space wizards. Too damn powerful. Too powerful for her. She was always in danger in their presence. One wrong move. It could be it for her. Didn't matter how good she was with a blade. She was nothing compared to their space magic. Even her daughter was almost bled dry by them.

The old pirate cleared her throat, moving ahead.

"Yeah. That'll do," she replied, doing her best to hide her discomfort.

[member="Milo Ren"]
 

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