Faction The Wheat Fields of Nadiem (OPA and Friendlies)

[Ever Dawnracer]

​

Most had been evacuated.

By the time the Bryn'adul arrived, they would find Nadiem vacant. The efforts of the Jedi and others had seen to it that those who wished to leave were able to do so, and those who wished to stay were allowed to. For many, Nadiem was home. Leaving it was much the same as when the Republic had left years ago, leaving them to struggle and toil once again before being left to the wiles of some other group, in this case, the Exiles, who presented no help to them. They had proven a fruitless campaign against the might of the monster horde that drew closer, though they had surely tried valiantly against them.

Ever had chosen to stay. She had a hundred Rangers, the best of the best, and she intended to wait for the beasts to come and make their occupation of her world something of a nightmare. It would not be an easy task, just as it was not an easy decision for any of them to remain. Ultimately they'd all been given the opportunity to leave with the rest of the citizens of the planet but they had chosen to remain. If no one was going to stand against the horde then they would end up conquering the whole galaxy and that was something Ever couldn't stand for. Despite the knowledge that there were many the galaxy could do without, it was the duty of the Republic to stand in the face of those who would destroy life and liberty.

The excavation was going well. She stood on the lip of the ever-deepening hole and looked down into the pit. The intent was simple: they dug a deep enough hole and landed the Shadow Fall in it before burying it. They'd have their getaway ship secured and the enemy wouldn't find it. The few of them that survived would be able to leave once they had to. Ever, like all the rest, fully expected the majority of them to die. She might end up among them. Those that survived needed to be able to escape.

"We should be done in a couple of hours," Lottal said, coming to a stop beside her. "I've also received word that a call for help has been sent out using the Jedi temple's communications system. I know those who helped with the evacuation will likely spread the word as well."

"I don't expect much help," she said, not taking her eyes away from the pit. "We're a backwater world with minimal population now. We can't produce crops the way we did before. We're just another useless ball of dirt on the edge of the galaxy. We fight because we must, but others will fight when they must."

"Still better to try, isn't it?"

She nodded her head as the hauler droids continued excavation.

"We'll see what happens. In the meantime, have the men start rigging the temple with traps."

"Sure thing, Major."

"If nothing else, we'll take a bunch of them with us."

 

[Micah tol Powl]

It was a lost cause.

So what else would you find on Nadiem except some idiot named Heavenshield?

He didn't look like a Jedi. Then again, he'd never really been that. He was more Théodred Heavenshield 's son than he was the man's apprentice. Despite the token lightsaber hanging from his belt, the amphistaff and the grimoire that he carried was clear evidence of his non-traditional upbringing. It was an experience that taught him sometimes only darkness could battle darkness.

He'd done it before. On Midvinter, he had summoned demons when it seemed that the tides of battle had turned against them.

If the Force was with them, it would not come to that. Here, at Nadiem, or ever again. However, all things were not equal. And, from everything he had come to learn from the reports of the Bryn'adul was that the carnage coming to this planet would have made what happened at Wayland look like a mere skirmish.

So he'd come. Why? Was there any single answer to that question? Because it was what his father would do -- had done -- countless times, on countless worlds. And doubtless would do so again. Except he had a wife, and a new daughter besides.

Thurion Heavenshield had fought his many battles. His grandfather had earned a rest from his many storied labors against the chaos rising in the galaxy.

Now it was Boo's turn to make a stand. To champion a just cause. Force knew, he'd fought for plenty of unjust causes. So, he'd come in the Equinox. And then given the ship over to the people trying to escape the arrival of the Bryn'adul. If the battle went well, he would recover the ship at the rendezvous. If the battle did not go well, then he would have no further use for the ship.

"Hail Nogras, full of light. Blessed are you among Creation and blessed is the light of your stars."

He prepared as he had that day on Wayland, in prayer and contemplation. On a hill overlooking a pastoral valley, the violet-haired witch-boy hovered in the air, a floating levitation as the grimoire and the implements of his forbidden religion circled around him. "Holy Starmaker, light the way for we who dwell in darkness, now and at the hour of our death."

As the boy reflected on the mysteries of the Primeval, the shadowy amphistaff hunted as a snake in the grass. It was the surreal yet placid calm that too often was followed by a storm that shattered any semblance of the peace that preceded it. But it was a sacred time. Precious moments that invited the warrior to reflect upon his choices and wonder how he would be judged for them. But, more than that, he did not know the gods plan for this planet. But, he would see their will come to pass and play whatever role he had.

And pray that, maybe, the gods of the Primeval watched over fools, nerf herders, and idiots named Heavenshield.

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

The excavation was well in hand. The ship, she was certain, would be buried before the Bryn'adul came. In the meantime, the rest of her soldiers were either busy planting explosives within the Jedi temple, the military research installation beneath her home, and her home itself. Either that or they were digging tunnels on the main battlefield. Though the coming battle would be skewed in the favor of their enemy, the battlefield would be skewed in their favor. By being such a small force planning to defend a world they had the luxury of dictating where the battle took place. It gave them a very small advantage, but it was one worth exploiting.

Ever turned and headed away from the ship. She carried her helmet in her hand, the rest of her armor proving a comfortable fit. They'd found it when they entered the research facility below her house. It had come as a surprise, but there were enough of them to fit her entire team with a couple of extras. The most surprising was how well the armor fit. It almost seemed to snug itself to the body when it was put on. She quite liked the feeling of the armor caressing her. Movement was far superior as a result.

The walk to her home would be a long one, but it gave her time to think. After all, destroying the home one grew up in was not easy to do. Though she did not want them to get their hands on anything within it, or savage it, or whatever else they might do to it, she still wished it could remain standing through everything. What she wished, in truth, was that they had an army and a navy strong enough to repel the attack that would come with the vacancy left behind by yet another government leaving the sector. It seemed that no government would ever be willing to stay around Nadiem and keep it safe from the perils of the galaxy.

As she walked, her gaiter cinched to her neck, neither she nor Micah tol Powl would really have any indication that they were about to meet. She exited a stretch of forest and was caught completely by surprise when she spotted the boy praying. A Chiss? she thought at first. Though when she neared she didn't see red eyes staring back at her. A Pantoran, perhaps. I wonder what he's doing here. She was certain she'd find out as she continued to approach him, not putting her helmet on. It was obvious he wasn't one of the monsters come to attack their world, and she didn't see much of a threat to him at the moment. No sense in being overly wary. He could have migrated to Nadiem, after all.

"Hello," she said as she neared.

She stopped a few feet away. Though she carried four weapons on her person, none of them were in hand. Still, if they were needed she was certain that she could reach it quickly enough. Movement to the side caught her attention and she spotted the snake slithering in the grass. No, not a snake. That's an amphistaff! Now she was even more curious than she had been moments before. What was this young boy doing there and clearly in ownership of such a weapon. Instinctively she touched a hand to the gaiter on her neck, wondering about the connection.

"I assume that amphistaff is yours?"

 

[Micah tol Powl]

"Not silhouette of trodden faith nor death shall not my step be guide..."

The boy had his eyes closed. Seated in mid-air, he continued the floating meditation in contemplative prayer. Each word an offering. Aware of his breathing. All around him was the work of Sargon. The Force descended from out of all creation the same as light hailed from the Starmaker. He breathed in, cradling inside the imperfect vessel of Halrormalenth a spark of that creation. He breathed out, releasing that spirit into the chaos of Balagoth's shadow. "As angels dance around Your throne, my life by captured fare Your own, that I may in Your house but kneel..."

"Hello."

A voice.

A sound, like footsteps lightly crunching grass underfoot, had given the impression of someone approaching... though there seemed no presence that would have ordinarily marked the corporeal host as viewed through the Force. His voice faltered for a moment, his amber eyes open as he turned to look in the direction of the spoken word.

There was a woman there. And, yet, he'd swear there was no one there at the same time.

Continuing on from the pause, the youth quietly intoned, "...and in my brokenness to cry, spring worship unto Thee." Though he had not paused the recitation of the sacred psalm, the boy did raise one hand to gesture for the stranger to be patient a moment.

Of course, his wasn't the only attention that the spoken address had merited. A black, serpentine head shot up from above the blades of grass. From behind, the snake-like biot's tail wagged back and forth. Then, it disappeared as the amphistaff slithered into the grass, popping up closer toward the woman. It's triangular snout was extended, clearly curious about her, while the grass around it rustled with the rapid wagging of its tail - almost as if it were a puppy.

Extending his legs out from the lotus position he had been in, the blue-skinned youth floated back the the ground. The open grimoire fell into his waiting palm. Closing the book, the boy bowed his head and made a gesture with one hand that touched his chest, his lips, his forehead and, finally, the cover of the book. "The words of the Primeval."

With that, the boy dropped the sacred tome into the satchel that draped across his body. Amber eyes again swept over toward the woman, as the boy took a step toward and then genuflected toward the stranger in quiet salutation.

"I assume that amphistaff is yours?"

"Quite the reverse," the violet-haired scion answered. A click of his tongue was accompanied by a hand gesture, which beckoned the amphistaff to dart back toward him. It was a momentary shift, a temporary suspension of his own connection with the Force in which the boy activated the Vongsense that enabled his rapport with the Vong creature.

In that moment, he realized there were two biots near him.

Curious.

"I'm the amphistaff's Pantoran," he deadpanned, as the biot looped around one of his legs. His eyes flicked from the amphistaff back to the stranger. She wasn't one of the natives fleeing the planet. It was clear from her posture that she was here to stand her ground and fight.

Giving a second, slight bow, the boy said, "Boo Heavenshield of the Dawnguard." Then, indicating the biot that was now creeping up his body, added, "And this is Azi."

Ever Dawnracer​

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

The Primeval?

That was an interesting revelation. She would never have guessed that this boy had something to do with that organization. He didn't seem the type. Yet, as she watched the amphistaff slither its way over to them, she had to remark that things weren't always as they seemed. People did whatever they wanted and for their own reasons. Some killed, some loved. Some went into seclusion. Some lived mundane lives. This boy seemed to have chosen to live the life of one with intent. What that intent was couldn't be deciphered just by looking at him. The lightsaber and the amphistaff were in contradiction as it was. Granted she was one to talk as a Force sensitive with her gaiter.

His comment did make sense. At times she did feel the present of the gaiter within her mind. Add in the presence of the Ahktar when she didn't wear the gaiter and things were utterly confusing. Sometimes she did what she wanted, and sometimes she could feel the draw of the other consciousness wanting her to do what it wanted. It was likely no different for him and his snake weapon. And he is Pantoran. That's interesting. Not met many of them, she thought before surprise dawned on her face.

"Heavenshield? You're of Midvinter then. What's your relationship to Thurion?" she asked.

She'd never met any of the Heavenshield's before, but she knew of them. It was hard not to. Their exploits were the stuff of legends. She'd read a considerable amount about them in her time at the temple on Ciomia. Sure, they hadn't been what she was looking for, but she found them too interesting not to study. Now, meeting one of them, she allowed herself to become momentarily distracted.

"Apologies. I should introduce myself. I am Ever Dawnracer of the Republic-In-Exile's Rangers. Nadiem is my homeworld and I welcome you to it, though I find your timing curious since danger looms."

Micah tol Powl

 

[Micah tol Powl]

"Heavenshield? You're of Midvinter then."

That brought a faint smile to the boy's face. Aside from the color of his skin, he certainly wouldn't pass for a Valkyri. "Me? No, I'm from Coruscant," the boy answered in turn. Omitting, politely, what specific part of Coruscant he referred to. As well as which Coruscant. He'd been taken to Dosuum by I Irajah Ven after the fall of the One Sith -- and been not much younger than he appeared now.

Her next question went straight to that paradox, even if she didn't realize it. Boo's relationship with Thurion Heavenshield was decidedly more complicated than was his relationship to Théodred. After all, it was Boo who had taken from the SIlver Jedi the life of their padawan, Assak Tey. And it was Boo's defection from the Primeval to the Silver Sanctum Coalition that had delivered the Heavenshield's kidnapped child back to them.

Whatever curse had befallen the boy on Tash-Taral, it was a farce to say that he was Pantoran. He didn't grow. He didn't change. And Pantoran blood was not black, as his was. He was a Sithspawn in near-human clothing. He wondered if any of the Heavenshield's recognized that, particularly when it was easy for Boo, himself, to forget.

"The short version is simply that his son adopted me," the boy offered finally. In that sense, Boo Heavenshield was a guise that he wore. A cover for an assignment. Hardly different from wearing a mask and calling himself Chiyo Ren, or using the Levantine Astronautical Academy to gain access to the Silver Jedi and the Levantine Sanctum with false student credentials that had identified him as Fei Yolo.

Another name. Another part to play. Another curtain call on the world stage. A different world. Different stage. Different part. Instead of the attacker, he was playing the defender. It was an all together out of character role for him. He was the spy. He was the assassin. This noble warrior bantha shit was really more of Théo's sort of thing.

Perhaps Ser Scruffy of Nerf Herder was beginning to rub off on him.

"As you may imagine, I know something of having a home world under attack," the boy noted. Coruscant had traded hands more often than he could keep up with. Yesterday, it had belonged to the Grayson Imperium. Now, it was the Alliance. Which, was a tad too on the nose for a boy who remembered the bombs and buildings crashing down when the Galactic Alliance had arrived to evict the One Sith from the world.

Whoever won these games of chess that were played on the galactic map, the losers were always the people who lived on the planets that were treated as pawns.

"If you will accept my aid, I'll gladly offer what assistance that I may."

Ever Dawnracer​

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

She was curious about his revelation that he was from Coruscant. That world had something of a contentious relationship with her even though she hadn't ever traveled to it. She had no desire to. The core worlds were a place she didn't care about. They didn't care about her world, she didn't care about theirs. It was a mutual disdain, certainly. Besides, Coruscant changed hands at the drop of a hat. Everyone was always vying for it, which disgusted her. Worlds weren't prizes to be won, they were homes and ecosystems to be protected. People seemed to forget that, though. Just like they forgot that people lived on the worlds they fought over.

So Micah tol Powl had been adopted by Théodred Heavenshield , the son of Thurion Heavenshield . Thusly he was of Midvinter, but he wasn't OF Midvinter. It was a sort of curious situation. Clearly there is more to this story than meets the eye and perhaps someday he will tell it to me, but now is neither the proper time or place for such conversations, she thought. He did have a point about knowing what it meant to have your home under attack. Coruscant had faced many, many battles. Needless battles all the same. Fighting over a single, stupid world was ridiculous in her opinion. Everyone wanted it, but nobody had a good reason for that desire.

"I suppose you do at that," she said, nodding her head. "And I would be glad to accept your help provided you understand the risks and that we will lose the fight."

There would be no dreams of winning the battle. It was not going to happen, and she was at peace with that fact. No, she didn't like it, but she'd accepted it. Staying to fight wasn't about winning the battle now, it was about learning more about the foe they faced so that the next time they would be better prepared for dealing with them. In addition, it was about showing them that there were people out there that would stand against them regardless of being outmatched. That and she planned to take more than her share to the grave with her.

"Walk with me?"

She motioned to the path she was on, indicating the village in the distance.

"I have something I must attend to before we continue preparations."

 

[Micah tol Powl]

The risks?

He'd carried out covert assassinations on behalf of the First Order, and then conducted deep cover operations against the Silver Jedi and Levantine Sanctum. Frankly, defending a planet against a frontal assault was probably the closest thing that the Pantoran had ever committed himself to that amounted to honest work.

"Heavenshield's rarely choose the winning side," the violet-haired youth noted dryly, giving a slight smile as he added, "Otherwise, where's the challenge in it?"

Was he doing it right? That certainly seemed like the kind of philosophical nonesense that Ser Scruffy would have offered.

Now that he'd had a chance to get to know them more closely, Boo had come to appreciate that Thurion and Coci defined winning differently than did many of the organizations that he'd supported. If the defenders here delayed the Bryn'adul long enough for the refugees to make it to safety, then that was a victory of a kind.

His grandfather would have likely said that honor was in the attempt. Defeat only came when feared stayed the hand that might have otherwise made a difference.

At the invitation, the youth fell into step with the woman. "Putting your affairs in order?" the boy asked, quite nonchalantly. It may have been morbid, but it was certainly a task that they all ought to have been thinking about.

For himself, Boo wondered about composing a message for Théodred Heavenshield , except what would it say? Perhaps the boy was running away. Or perhaps the boy was trying to find himself.

Or perhaps a boy was no one.

Whatever the case may have been, Boo was hardly prepared to have said hello to Ser Scruffy, let alone goodbyes. Best to leave things as they were, with much unsaid. The words we couldn't say just another on the many storied pile of regrets in his life.

Ever Dawnracer​

 

[Ever Dawnracer]

She smiled at the mention of a challenge. Yes, there was little to be said for the fight other than it would be a challenging defeat. They'd all accepted that when they'd landed on Nadiem. It was the way of things, and as far as she was concerned it was an acceptable part of the hand life, and the Force, had dealt her. Still, as she lifted a hand to rub the tattoo beneath her bangs, the bloody thing still itched, she couldn't help but wonder if his adopted parents would approve of his sacrificing himself. If they survived, and word reached them she'd allowed Micah tol Powl to assist in the defense, she might be in for more than a little scolding.

The path they walked was not a heavily trodden one. Mostly it had been used by droids going to and from one of the fields and the main storage facilities in the town ahead of them. Still, it was beaten enough that she and the boy could walk side by side with little trouble. Despite his friendly nature, and despite the presence of the tattoo on her forehead, she chose to keep the gaiter on because, even though she trusted his intentions, the presence of the amphistaff and his mention of the Primeval had her more than a little irked. She didn't let it show, but the gaiter was certainly staying wrapped around her neck for the time being.

"I guess you could say that's what I'm doing," she said, fingers of her right hand fidgeting with her thumb.

Truthfully, her affairs were in order. She had no living family, not even distant cousins. Her father had been an only child, just as she was an only child. There were no cousins for her to look to, and her grandparents had died long ago. There was no lover to notify either. It was just her and her soldiers at this point. Only Duru on Ciomia might be disappointed in her death, but he would get past it in time because the Force takes all eventually. Suffice to say, she was at peace with the situation, even though what she was going to do was something that pained her to do.

"I'm going to blow up the home I grew up in. I'd rather be the one who destroys it than allow these creatures to come and ransack it for themselves. My father wouldn't have wanted that."