Things Lost

[Subject 37]

Keldabe
[member="Sable"]

Things had not gone well for this proud world as of late. Perhaps things had become too political, after Ra fell, or perhaps things were simply..shifting in ways that they couldn’t stop, but either way the once proud Mandalorians were not as they once had been. A few years ago they had stood proud against the One Sith, fought them on Empress Teta, and other worlds. Now...now it seemed that glory had diminished somewhat.

Perhaps it was the fall of the Crusaders, or perhaps it was simply a sign of the changing times. While the Mandalorians held conflicts with the Silver Jedi the Alliance had become the galaxies foremost faction, taking over the role as protectors and defenders of the innocent.

Then again, maybe the Mandalorians simply didn’t care about any of that. They were warriors after all, soldiers. Perhaps it was never about how the Sith treated their people, but more about what the Sith could one day do to them. It was a theory really, nothing more, and in the end he supposed that it didn’t really matter all that much.

Sven knew this.

He shifted slightly beneath the weight of the odd armor, the mandalorian Beskar’gam feeling like an odd weight that had settled on his shoulders. Normally he preferred to wear something more...light, but for this, for what they were here for it was better to simply pose as one of the group. The armor he wore was composed of Durasteel instead of the normal Mandalorian Iron, but was forged in the same methods and style.

Without too much scrutiny it would pass easily enough, though if someone demanded who had made his armor and when...well he would be completely at a loss, not that it mattered all that much in the end.

He frowned slightly and looked at the small map on his HUD, pointing towards a nearby building that seemed to have been constructed only a short few years ago, its great stone face still reaching out somewhat. ”That’s the one.”

His distorted voice told his companion, a smile setting on his lips.

This had always been a risk, but she was sure, and thus they had come.

 

[Quietus]

"Yes," a metallic voice answered, originating from the armor-clad Dreadlady, "I sense its presence ... faintly."

How many years had buried their target beneath the city of Keldabe. She needn't the crown to know it was here; she could pick up the trace essence of Him just as easily as a shark could detect a single drop of blood in an ocean of water. A silent nod was given to Sven and she followed him down the ramp and out into the open air of Mandalore.

This was not what she had expected of the place. The skies were blazed with tumult and fire. Deep grey clouds saturated the horizon, blocking out the sun, and ash fell like a dirty winter snow. She paused after several paces, helmet tipping towards the trail of smoke and smog to a great mountain in the distance. This planet was ill, injured, unstable. With it she felt a growing affinity for these things, for all the collective damages of her years spent as His Apprentice. Sable found herself smiling beneath the Mandalorian helmet as a wash of familiarity overcame her. As if she'd been here before, fought the great Desmius herself. Images of the battle flashed before her mind's eye - the very same images that had taken her subconscious on Krant. They were stronger now, clearer, defining her purpose to a svolten rhyolite-honed edge.

Sable could not deny that the memories woke a certain desire for battle within her. Not her own, but the remnants left behind. Her fingers itched to have the sword at hand once again, the need driving the Dreadlady from her reveries to continue following after Sven.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

This wouldn't be easy, not at all in fact. Mandalorians, even after the disaster that they had endured, were well known for their heartiness. Fighting them was an uncomfortable idea, and capturing them? Next to impossible. It was by pure luck that Sven and Sable had their little distraction, pure luck that they had their chance. Taking this place by force would have been next to impossible, that was why it was only him and Sable that had come here.

"It'll be under the floor." They had known from the start.

His finger slowly floated to the weapons he carried, thumb slowly tracing over the handle of his disruptor before slowly checking to see if the sword on the small of his back was in place. The detonators he carried on his belt thankfully didn't stand out here, and his cloak hid the small pack that he carried quite well.

They had come prepared at the very least. "Let me do the talking honey."

Sven said as they stepped towards the building. It seemed to be little more than a small banking center, likely where money was transferred through accounts and perhaps even stored. Sven and Sable cared nothing for money of course, what they were after was far more valuable. As they stepped through the door Sven spotted two armored individuals, both of them donning identical garb to what he and Sable wore. The Assassin pointed them out to his wife, they would have to be subdued first.

Without any further hesitation Sven drew his blaster and fired towards the man on the left. The man didn't ahve time to react before the disruptor struck him, slamming into his chest and sending him tumbling to the floor. "Ladies and Gentleman please remain calm. This is robbery."

Behind him he heard the doors slam shut.

 

[Quietus]

A second shot echoed the first, taking out the man on the right. Sable took three steps inside the building and with a twitch of thought slammed the doors shut behind her. She stopped at Sven's side, giving him a sideways look at the words he chose to speak. Somehow this elicited a derisive snort out of the Dreadlady.

Back behind the Teller stands someone tripped an alarm.

Sable turned a slow glare her way, moving forward towards the center of the bank. A gesture as simple as a hand wave threw all people and objects outwards, slamming against the walls with pitiful cries and yelps. One further step forward, one slightly back to and to the right, the woman looked down to the tiles beneath her feet.

"Right here."

The blip of confusion on the faces of those inside was nearly palpable.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

Sven nodded, glancing towards the people cowering within the bank.

He doubted that any of them would try anything, at least for now. They were all Mandalorians of course, most of them would be trained, but...well if you weren't armed why would you risk intervening in this situation. Sable was clearly a force user, and although Mandalorian Hatred was strong for Sith and Jedi alike things were best ignored when you weren't quite sure what was going on.

"I'll set the chargest." A drill would have been more delicate, but that wasn't necessary here.

What they had come for could not be easily destroyed.

"Have to do this quickly." Sven said more to himself as he tossed off the cloak on his back and pulled the small pack onto the floor. It clattered onto the ground with a loud thump, the detonators inside shaking a bit. The Assassin scooped a few of them up and slowly began to place them to where Sable had pointed, positioning them in a large circle before connecting them with a wire of detonation cord. "Alright."

The people in the bank stared, another Teller speaking as if trying to correct their behaviour.

"That's...that's not where the vault is."

Sven stood up, staring at the woman as if she were daft. "We are aware."

He waved at her with his blaster, causing a slight whimper to escape her lips before she quickly dropped down behind the desk.

 

[Quietus]

She moved to stand near the side wall, dispersing the people with nary a look. Force users were not common on Mandalore and judging by the stares they also were not welcome. The Dreadlady remained impervious to their silent accusations and judgements - they were lucky to be standing at all. Not but an hour ago Sven had convinced her not to level the entire city.

Something about running low on deckhands to fend off the Mandalorian fleet and making things more personable. Sable shifted her shoulders beneath the pauldrons of her armor and waiting for Sven to step back to her side.

He counted down to the growing terror on the faces of those stuck within the bank. Sable's gaze remained firmly planted at the center of the charges.

3...

2...

Several people tried the doors. Alas they were melted together at the seam. When did that happen?

1.

They ducked for cover, yelped, hid their eyes. Sable continued staring listlessly, lifting her hands in a casual manner to adjust the gauntlets. They were a little too big.

BBBFFFT!

The blast left a crater in the floor not much wider across than Sable was tall. Smoke and debris filled the air and littered the bank around them. No one was hurt. How fortunate. The Dreadlady moved forward with a long release of breath, growing bored with the dramatics. Gauntlets properly adjusted she held her right hand forward and began the arduous task of uncovering the remaining depths of stone, gravel and earth that had long since buried the great Sithsword of Dreadlord Moridin - with her mind.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

Sven didn't help his wife, mostly because she could dig faster with the force than he ever could by hand. Instead he kept his blaster drawn, eyes watching the crowd that still remained inside of the bank.

They were all incredibly weary of course, perhaps even terrified. More than a few were now cowering beneath the tables that dotted the small establishment, though some had taken to looking directly at Sven and Sable, trying to identify the make of their armor. Sven smiled beneath the helmet, wondering if Mandalorians were always grouchy because their armor was so heavy an uncomfortable. He gave a Sigh as Sable down down a bit deeper, his eyes darting back and forth.

This wasn't exactly the best world to rob.

Though not everyone in Keldabe was the perfect soldier, most knew how to fight. That made stealing from this place incredibly dangerous.

He supposed it was somewhat mitigated by the fact that they weren't technically stealing anything from Mandalorians themselves. They were reclaiming a part of Moridin's heritage. Technically this was his inheritance, or perhaps Sable's. He doubted that anyone would care for that explanation, but Sven didn't really think it would be an issue. He moved towards one of the windows, noticing that people had begun to quickly evacuate the street.

"Hurry, Honey." Sven called out to Sable, eyes slowly beginning to search for incoming speeders.

Doubtlessly whatever Security forces the Mandalorians employed would be here soon, and Sven wasn't too keen on fighting them.

 

[Quietus]

Sable stood within the hole surrounding by a vortex of churning debris and dirt. Massive rocks, pieces of rubar and metal, the tailings of a city already flattened once slowly swooped upwards around her before flinging off in random directions. One unlucky onlooker took a steel girder through the stomach, another was flattened by a chunk of cement to the head.

Dirt pulled from beneath her armored boots as the Dreadlady slowly became swallowed by the crater. The presence of his sword was all-encompassing now, claiming the woman's mind with visions of the Battle of Mandalore. Keldabe had been an unfortunate staging ground for the battle between the Dreadlord and the former Ashin Varanin. Sable watched in perfect clarity as the moment Varanin plunged her lightsaber into His chest flashed within her mind...

As Ashins blade punched a whole through the Dreadlord's Chest Moridin out of pure reaction severed the connection between the two of them. It was like instantly the entire world seemed to face, the black lines between their eyes fizzled and became nothing seemingly evaporating into the air. She had taken into her about a 10th of the souls that he contained within him, a massive chunk.

It was not the end however, The Dreadlord still had strength yet. His blade bit into her chest, and with the force he had been applying to her sword the wound would be more than...unpleasant.

Slowly the Dreadlord looked down at his chest, seeing the orange blade puncture through a space between his ribs. Like a viper he grabbed onto Ashins arm, his massive strength clinging to hold the womans arm in place and keep her Lightsaber from moving even a millimeter.

Then he sliced downward with his blade, cutting further into it and then throwing the sword aside far behind himself and out of range of the force. Then with another viper like strike Moridin threw his hand forth and wrapped it around the woman's throat, instantly tightening his fingers around her slender neck.

Black brackish ooze began to spill from the corners of his mouth, slowly falling to the floor and sizzling on the ground there. The fluid smelled sickening, and as it fell from the corners of his mouth Moridin smirked wider tightening his grip ever more on Ashins throat.

The Darkside rushed through him like a torrent, fueling him, pushing him forward, he would kill her.

The pain was hers to bear now, with his essence trapped within she could not escape Moridin's history no more than he could escape his fate by her hands alone. Sable's hand outstretched before her, reaching for the throat of the woman she saw in her mind, but instead of grasping flesh she felt something far more substantial.

Power.

Dark, seething, putrid -

Power.

The sword was hers now.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

Sven turned back just in time to see Sable grasp the sword from the dirt.

Good.

The longer they stayed here the more danger they would be in. Sable was strong, and he could hold his own in a fight, but this was a planet filled with people who had been fighting wars against...pretty much everyone since the very birth of their nation. It was best not to stick around, especially considering that had happened here on Mandalore just a few weeks ago. The people were likely still rather pissed off, and Sven didn't really want to be the one they took their anger out on.

"Lets go." He told Sable as soon as the blade was in her hand.

The people all around them were staring.

Most of them were utterly confused by what was going on. They either didn't understand or comprehend exactly why this was so important. Only a few feet away there was an entire vault with riches. Money, jewels, Aurodium that was there for the taking, but apparently the robbers weren't interested in such things. One of the women in the corner even put down her communicator, too confused to call the authorities.

 

[Quietus]

The vortex continued as Sable slowly pulled herself out of the massive hole, debris shifting whorls of dark energies. Climbing to her feet and straightening, the woman took a moment to gather her bearings as the visions filtered from her conscious mind. There were several moments where a keening urge to destroy the entire facility gripped her, brought on by the resurgence of Moridin's power. Were it not for Sven's presence this very fate likely would have fallen upon the people there.

Instead, at the behest of her husband's words, the Dreadlady turned on her heel and headed for the very exit she had sealed prior. A wave of her hand blasted the doors open again, tearing metal framing open like paper. She stepped through and out into the daylight, heading off towards their ship with the same amount of purpose she'd had on their way in.

This was only one of dozens, hundreds of artifacts they had to find. Though one of the most powerful, it was still only one small piece to this giant puzzle.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Sable"]

Surprisingly, they were not met with a wave of blaster fire or a torrent of missiles as he had expected. Instead they stepped out into the streets, ash having slowly piled down onto the floor. His lips thinned slightly behind his mask, eyes wandering after Sable as he peered around them. "They're broken."

He said quietly to himself.

It was sad really. A once great people having been splintered, pushed into pieces and broken apart. Slowly Sven shook his head, boots ringing loudly against the hard cobblestones as he followed after his wife. He knew that there would be more worlds like this. He knew that Moridin had left dozens, if not thousands of artifacts spread all across the galaxy, but he wondered if they would find more worlds like this. He doubted his fathers sword had anything to do with what happened here, but the thought struck him for a moment at least.

"This way." He told her as they moved into an alleyway, the armor they wore quickly stripped off.

He had no idea if anyone was following, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Within a moment both Sable and Sven stripped off their armor, the clothes beneath unfurling to let them better blend as they headed to their ship and then off-world.