9.32.4786 Republic Reckoning

The roar of the explosion hits you a noticeable second after the fireball explodes through the trees. Without a word everyone in the bay starts running toward the wreck to see if anyone escaped alive. Halfway there, Mira falls back and stares. As you arrive at the scene with the paramilitaries who are now equally uninterested in fighting, you see a horrific sight. Dalmotz, or rather, chunks of him, lay in and near the edge of the fire, slowly turning black. What identifiable flesh is left is visibly blistering before it catches fire. The siren of a crash wagon pierces the deafening silence and begins spraying fire retardant foam over the wreckage.

J'ror and To'iir stand to one side, watching the fires extinguish. Everyone else gathers there, already knowing what they will shortly find out. Silent tears come from the eyes of Mira and To'iir.

Quindo hangs back a moment while everyone is distracted, running toward the explosion. He knows that, dead or alive, there is little he can do for Davin now. Deep down, he knows the truth, even as friends and enemies alike sprint toward the violent scene of destruction. Not even bothering to stoop, he retrieves both thermal dets and the remains of Dalmot's lightsaber from the floor of the bay with TK. Sadness, grief, and recrimination can wait... for now, there is only rage inside and a gnawing guilt. Quindo knows that, had he killed Dalmot instead of disarming him, Davin would still be alive. He knows that Elbram will forever carry scars from a Sith saber because he did not kill when he had the chance. Next time, it will be different. Now is not the time for grief... now is the time for action. From the sounds of the approaching fire wagon, Quindo knows that he will have a few minutes in the confusion before anyone notices that he is missing. He slips quietly downstairs.

It takes the fire crews thirty minutes to douse the flames and cool off the wreckage enough that you feel safe approaching, but the metal is still searingly hot to the touch. Crews from the base are now collecting remains and debris and an ambulance from the infirmary in town has arrived.

The crew blasts off foam from the cockpit area, now a quarter its original length since it seems the plane landed nose first. After twenty more minutes a tractor pulls the plane over and from out of the cockpit falls a silver lightsaber, melted and deformed beyond repair. A charred, crushed corpse lies wedged between the remnants of the ejection seat and the control panel. Wordlessly, J'ror walks forward and retrieves it. He sets it in the middle of the group and the residual heat blackens some leaves around it.

Rescue crews spend the rest of the afternoon cutting him out; at this point a truckload of troops arrives from town. These approach the two dozen people still standing around the wreckage. Two work their way toward the group of Jedi on one side. The lead approaches J'ror and removes his helmet. His name tag reads "Dormamu."

Dormamu: "Mr. Tholin." He nods at each of you in turn, then finally realizes who is now under the sheet on the stretcher. "I see the opening shots have been fired. Our first engagement is a draw."

J'ror: "I hope this isn't a sign of things to come."

Dormamu: "You know that they are likely to get a lot worse before this is over. He was a good man. I'll see to it that his remains are delivered to your ship."

To'iir: "Thank you," says To'iir, echoed by Mira and J'ror.

Dormamu: "Nevertheless, this isn't the planet for you to be on. I'm sure we all wish we could avoid further conflict, so I must ask that as soon as we deliver Knight Brightblade's remains to you that you depart this system. A truce can only last so long between mortal enemies."

J'ror: "I know. You are a good man too, for letting us leave," says J'ror Don't let your mother's friends suck you too far in. You know they wouldn't approve."

Dormamu: "Their opinions are their own business. I request you leave as soon as possible. We have a transport heading back to town soon, I suggest you use it. Give yourselves the time to rest."

J'ror: "Thank you again, Colonel Dormamu. You are always most gracious in victory," J'ror said as he slowly moved everyone toward the waiting transport.

Dormamu: "It was the old history books my mother used to give me." Dormamu closed up the back gate and the repulsors took you back down the path to the spaceport.

Igashu responds with silence. He watches Davin's corpse recovered from the ship with no snappy comebacks, or witty remarks. He stares silently fixated on the corpse of his friend, while J'ror converses with Dormamu.

Vraile is forgotten in the moment, and Igashu climbs into the repulsor vehicle silently ignoring anything that doesn't demand his immediate attention.

It takes a moment to notice the fact that you are not alone in the back of the paramilitaries' repulsor. One of their number stands in the shadows at the back of the covered bay. As you notice him, he walks forward, gripping the rails holding the canopy that is barely above his tall frame.

Dabai: "So are you saying that Dormamu and Dalmotz are, uh, were, uh, well, Dalmotz was, Sith?"

J'ror: "Dalmotz was a Sith," J'ror says. "I don't know what Dormamu is. But he has cast his lot with Sith so it cannot be good."

Dabai: "Why did you guys come here just to kidnap Major Dranson?"

J'ror: "I came here to find her and tell her that as Jedi, we cannot condone working with Sith, no matter how noble their cause may seem," J'ror says.

Vraile: Vraile adds with bitterness, "He came here because he couldn't stand that I just might happen to agree with some of Dormamu's aims." To'iir glares at her.

Dabai: "I am Sgt. Dabai Kingston. I was selected as part of Dormamu's elite force of Force-sensitive operators. Dalmotz' actions worried me. If he and the others leading this are Sith, then I don't want to die because the Jedi get involved. I'd rather be on your side." He pauses, as if gathering himself for a difficult decision. "I would hope that your squad would take me on as a tactician and firearms expert." He turns to Quindo. "Sir Knight, you fought well, and it is unfortunate that you could not kill Dalmotz before he killed your friend with him. However, you fought well, and I would desire you to teach me the ways of the Jedi so I too can become powerful enough to stand up to a Sith."

Elbram: Elbram gazes silently at Kingston for several long seconds as the repulsor approaches the spaceport. He speaks softly, almost gently, but his eyes are cold. "You would rather be on our side, you say... you do not wish to match yourself against the Jedi, because you fear death at their hands. You wish to become more powerful so you can stand up to a Sith... why? Because you fear death at their hands as well. You fear the Dark, and you fear the Light. Tell me, Sergeant Kingston... is there anything you do not fear?" Elbram turns away and stares off into the distance, as the muscles in his jaw clench and unclench slowly. He turns back and, in a voice even softer and more devoid of emotion, says, "Your fear is conquering you... guiding your decisions, your actions. I see it is not yet too late... but if you do not face your fears now, they will only grow stronger. You speak of Dalmotz' death as a pity only in that it was not sooner; I say that brings you ever closer to his fate. You must make now in truth the decision you have set before yourself. If it is fear that drives you, then we will give you transport wherever you wish and you may live out the rest of your life in peace, far away from both the Jedi and the Sith; we shall trouble you no more." He pauses for a moment, then adds, almost as an afterthought: "On the other hand, if there is something else, something you value more than your own life... Davin knew what that was, and even when the stakes of our battle, the innocent lives we might save, seemed mere shadows cast by a false light he was willing to die for them. Only there, through that door only will you find the strength to vanquish your fear and walk your path... and only when you can walk that path will we speak again of the ways of the Jedi."

After returning to the ship, Igashu walks wordlessly into the kitchen and sits at the table staring at his hands. One grips a small nuclear grenade so tightly his fingers are white. The other holds the lightsaber he had borrowed from Davin gently as if he is worried he might break it.

Igashu: On the ship as the rest of the group comes in, Igashu stands back up and thrusts the nuclear grenade back into J'ror's hands and walks back to the entrance. "New guy!" He calls to Sgt. Kingston. "You weren't entirely correct. First most of us, Sir Knight and myself included," Igashu says pointing to Quindo, "are only students. Second, officially the Jedi council sanctions none of our actions. Meaning that we aren't Jedi in the usual sense of the word. Third, the bad guys aren't the only ones dying in this, join us and your survival chances don't improve... I'd argue they get a bit worse. I'm not so sure I speak for everyone, but you were with the team shooting at us not that long ago. I have enough trouble trusting fellow Jedi, how about you give me a better reason to trust you than sudden verbalization that you aren't comfortable with your boss being a Sith."

Dabai: Dabai looks at Quindo with confused then back at Igashu. "If you are only students then I am further awed by your display back there and have even more respect for the order then I did before. Whether your mission be sanctioned by the council or not, I would believe it to be sanctioned by the force." I have had no interaction with any of the order till now. As with Vraille I have little respect for the practices of the "Republic" and for all means would like to see it fall. But when I accepted my position in Dormamu's forces I knew not of the prescence of sith. I wouldn't know how to even tell a man was sith unless his actions gave it away. Likewise for jedi! As for trusting me, take me as an ally or take me as a prisoner. Either way I will not serve under a sith! And I would rather lose my life serving the light then to live under the dark side."

Dabai Drops all of his gear on the floor, and looks at J'ror. "I assume that student or not you lead these Jedi. I surrender to your forces and will accept what punishment you deem necessary for my past actions."

Quindo: Quindo's eyes flash as he spits vehemently "J'ror is not our leader. He is an ally at best and an unreliable one at that." He glares at J'ror. "Do not assume that the most powerful is the most responsible. There were several deaths back thee, and J'ror is responsible for several of them directly. If you're looking for a leader... talk to Elbram. He's about the only one around here who I'd trust to lead me down the right path." Quindo turns toward Elbram and points toward J'ror's nuke. "Elbram, I suggest you take that from him... If he resists, I'll take it myself. J'ror, if you've got another one of those, I recommend that you turn it over to Elbram. I'm not going to have a repeat of our last little experience. Then I think you should take your wife and go back to Coruscant or Klandathu." "Sgt. Kingston, what Elbram said about fear... think on it. In the meantime, I think you should fill us in on everything you know about Dormamu's operations." "As for trust.. well...at the cost of his life, Davin finally earned my trust... you may not have to pay so dear a price... but it will certainly not come cheaply." Quindo's turns his gaze on Igashu. "And don't you start with me. I'm not angry and I'm not being paranoid. I've had a bit of a bad day, and if I'd killed Dalmotz when i had the chance, Davin would still be here. J'ror's little stunt with the pocket nuke has me about ready to toss him off this transport and let him walk home. Sgt. Kingston here is more likely to be another one of Dromamu's pets than an honest defector... and you're not going to convince me otherwise."

Igashu: "You are paranoid Quindo. But you're also right. Vraile is getting shipped to Coruscant and the council at the earliest convenience. We'll all face their judgment eventually."

"J'ror isn't in charge. We've been making our own decisions since Byblos, including going after Vraile."

"History repeats, and a man who jumps sides once is likely to find reason to do so again. I don't trust a traitor, but I say we take him on as a prisoner. He might just be able to tell us something useful, for that matter he may even be telling the truth. The force works in mysterious ways and all that."

Return to June 10 2003.