Remember Your Fallen

[Varyn Rask]

OOC: Open to reactions only​

The battles for the Rebel worlds had been brutal and difficult. Partial victory and partial failure. In some ways it was a Pyrrhic victory, but Varyn saw an opportunity: one that could be far more valuable than any base.

The Holonet lit up to the face that many had seen before. The face wasn't a face, it was a mask: the mask of a Sith Lord. While it could be accessed in the Core as well, it was primarily aimed at Mandalorian space. It wasn't a long or drawn out address. He wasn't a man who cared for waste, nor were most Mandalorians. And make no mistake, this address was for the Mandalorians. For their leader.

Mand'alor the Chosen.

Mand'alor, he began simply. There was no dishonor or disrespect in his address. Too many arrogant Sith had dismissed the Mandalorians as being nothing but second rate citizens because they weren't sensitive to the Force. Varyn had no interest in making the mistakes of his predecessors.

It is not with joy that I have to give you a report about a loss to your House, he said. His voice was somber, and lacked either menace or joy. This wasn't a gloating victory, and Varyn didn't care what the rest of the galaxy thought of his address. It was a means of contacting one who could be considered his mortal enemy.

The Sith recently ransacked bases held by the Jedi and their terrorist pawns, he said after another moment. After investigation into the fallen, there is one in particular who I felt the need to inform you of. The Field Marshal Daniel Solus has fallen in battle, he said, stopping what he said. The news would be a major blow to all of House Solus, and many other Mandalorians as well.

His body - and all those of your fallen - will be returned to your space, along with their armor and beskads, for your traditional burial, he said. Though their other weapons and gear had been taken, anything made of beskar would be returned to their home space. The act was nearly unprecedented, but it would mean a huge difference to the Mandalorians who were listening. It was a sign of respect and honor. The Mandalorians may have hated the Sith, but Varyn wasn't quite your traditional Sith, and he fully intended to show it. He was sick of the sins of his ancestors, and he didn't intend to continue them.

We never went there looking to kill your people. We went there looking for terrorist blood, and all we found was Mandalorian blood. Defending a planet that wasn't yours, that you had no stake in, and that they didn't even bother to defend themselves. Those should have been your worlds if your blood was spilled, he said, letting that thought sink in. The Alliance had used the Mandalorians to defend their nearly-empty bases. You hate the Sith because we treated you like war dogs, he pointed out. There's nothing I can do to change the past, and nothing your can do to change the decisions your old Alor made, but I can say this: don't be war dogs for the Jedi, he said. Mandalorians didn't trust Jedi - and by extension the Alliance - and this was just proof of any concerns the Mandalorians might have had: they were letting the Mandalorians fight their battles for them. Expendable soldiers.

A single ship will be entering your space to return them to you, and I would ask that you allow them to pass in peace. Enough blood has been spilled: your people's, and mine, he said. He had no more interest in seeing the blood of either of their people shed. He may not have been able to stop the war with the Mandalorians yet, but you ate a bantha one bite at a time.

And as quickly as the transmission had begun, it ended. Though it may have been brief, its impact would be felt all across Mandalorian space. @Lucid @Sreeya

 

[Raz Solus]

Raz had been training at their base on Contruum, preparing for another mission that would take her into the inner colonies. She was in a training facility to test out her new weapons and gear. Raz was still getting used to the quickdraw pistol, whipping it out any chance she had to fire off instant bolts. She twirled it in her cybernetic hand, getting used to the feel of weapons in that arm. Daily progress and a strict routine allowed her to make leaps and bounds in her recovery, and the arm finally began to feel more like her own.

There was a large Holoscreen that was playing local news. She paid it no heed for now, walking around to aim at another target. Raz wasn’t dressed in armor, only in some clothing to help her train. She barely lifted the gun when the news cut to something else entirely. She heard a voice and it addressed her directly. Raz whipped up to look, her blood running cold the moment the man began to speak. It was a Sith. At first, she thought to simply ignore it, but then he dropped a bomb.

Dan was dead.

The words from the Holonet addressed echoed over and over. Raz felt herself grow weak, the gun falling from her grasp and clattering to the floor. He kept speaking, kept talking about how there were no rebels there. The rebels had evacuated, but why then did they have anyone left behind to defend it? The words began to twist, claw and pull at her mind. She felt everything hit at once, feeling as if a heavy blaster bolt shredded through her chest. Raz fell to her knees, overcome with grief.

Then that grief turned to something else. It began to twist into something dark. She was quivering and shaking, her blood boiling. Dan died fighting for the rebels for bases they had abandoned. Bases their own people didn’t stay and defend. That was what the Sith was saying, and that’s what she couldn’t help but believe. Had they become attack dogs again? Had she led her people astray?

Raz screamed at the top of her lungs, jumping to her feet and rushing over to slam her cybernetic fist into a wall. She kept railing away at the wall, putting a dent in it as it began to chip away. She slammed it with her other fists, tears streaming down her face as she screamed, letting all her emotions out at once. Dan was dead. He was never coming back. She had failed to protect him. She had failed him. Her knuckles split open, blood seeping down her fist and imprinting on the dents in the wall. None of it mattered, she kept going, prepared to grind her fist down to the bone and wreck her metallic hand. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so angry and in so much despair at once.

Dan was gone.

 

[Koil Solus]

____________

THEME​

Contruum 6, a good place to practice arctic environmental tactics. It was isolated and reminded Koil a bit of his original home world, Eshan though nobody really knew that. He stood in the kitchen fixing some food for those in the base. It was sparse and rarely more than a handful of mandalorians originally but now had his own Deadly Dozen who he had been training. Winter camoflage had been their focus for the day and many of them were worn out.

A few of them sat in lounge seats in front of the large holo screen in the common area. Koil could see from the kitchen and occasionally looked up but it was background noise. His own armor was far warmer than walking around in normal clothes so he had kept it on though took of his gauntlets to work the pans and utensils.

The announcement that came over the screen caught his attention though. Koil turned off the stove since the water was already at a boil. At first there was skepticism. Perhaps this was a ploy, some sort of lie to manipulate the mandalorians. But as the speech continued the Al'Verde would realize it was not an act of deception. His squinted expression changed to one of serious realization. If his skin were not already so fair he would have gone even paler.

Daniel, Dopey Badger, his comrade, his friend, his family was dead. The man's face flashed before his crimson eyes. Koil's breathing was no longer the cold and calm it usually was. His chest expanded and contracted as his blood pumped in his ears. He was running hot like. Both of his hands had balled into fists without him knowing and were almost shaking.

He wanted to stop listening. It was all some sort of reasoning to look good in front of those that were not specifically impacted by this tragedy. All he heard was manipulations and with every syllable Koil's rage grew. He wanted to get on his ship, jet half way across the galaxy and ignore every other ounce of experienced wisdom and beat the pulp out of any body and anything that stood in his way. Underneath his helmet his face twitched, his face contorted into rage. Not only was Daniel dead, but the sith were now dishonoring him by trying to use him for their own agenda.

Part of him wanted to just rip and tear into the sith, satisfy his most primal urges. Those were the same feelings he felt along with many others. But Koil knew it would not accomplish much to get himself killed and add his own body to the count among his brethren. No, he had to be smart, hit his enemies where it hurt the most and watch as they suffered from what they had sown. Koil could not think now. Even if he wanted to his heart had opened the flood gates and his head was now filled with rage. He had to leave, he had to find something to hit. His shoulders were taught, his jaw clenching and un-clenching.

As he walked down the corridors of personal quarters those that had not been in the common area left their rooms, having heard the commotion made by Raz. Koil did not turn back. He felt the same way. Nobody stood in his way as he stalked towards whatever his unknown destination was.

Eventually he found his way in the empty hangar bay. He realized he had forgotten his gauntlets in the kitchen. Somebody had put up a punching bag in the corner for a make shift gym though. He paced once, twice and then walked over to it, standing in front of it for a moment, staring at it imaging it was the masked man on the holo-net and then proceeded to beat the bag. His hands struck it once, twice, again and again he struck it until his knuckles began to bleed. He did not stop, he howled and cried, tears welling up in his eyes. Koil stopped feeling the pain thanks to the cold air. His hands were numb and the punching bag had begun to get slick with the blood on his fists.

The man's form deteriorated, he did not know how much time had past as he beat the bag but it eventually broke, the sand inside falling on the ground. Koil grabbed the bag, keeping it from swinging anymore, hugging it, remembering Daniel's innocent face. The mandalorian's head hung low as he slid to the ground until he was on his knees, alone in the cold hangar.

 

[Leandros Solus]

The chill of Contruum offered Leandros the opportunity to train his body to resist the elements. He liked the little Mandalorian base on the planet, mostly because he helped defend it, but also because it had a quaint aura to it that let him think about other things. He was here with Raz, preparing for another excursion into the inner colonies of the Empire to liberate more planets from the oppressive rule of the Sith. He was in his armor sans helmet, hanging out in the training room after going to the kitchen to get a cold brew. Raz was practicing with the pistol he had gifted her, growing more accustomed to her cybernetic. Splitting his attention between the local news and Raz, a small smile formed on his lips.

Suddenly, the local news shifted to the sight of a masked man who addressed Raz directly. Leandros snapped his attention to the broadcast, watching and listening to it with rapt attention. A chill went down his spine as the man spoke, curious as to his intent, until one particular name was uttered as dead.

His beer crashed to the floor and his muscles involuntarily flexed, freezing him in place for a moment. Dan, stupid Dan, was killed. Killed defending a base which had been evacuated. A base that did not belong to the Mandalorians, but rather their allies, the rebels. His vision narrowed as he focused on the holoscreen and the words seemed to be coming from miles away, yet were perfectly clear to him. It was like a beskad drove through his armor and pierced his heart. An indescribable wave of grief, then anger, then doubt, then grief, then anger washed over him.

Anger.

His breathing increased and his heartbeat began to race. His face grew hot and he gritted his teeth so hard that he was sure he would snap a tooth any moment now. The hairs on his neck promptly stood at attention and he stared at the holoscreen for a while until a shriek broke him from his stupor. He immediately flicked his eyes to Raz, watching her scream and dash towards the wall, ramming her fist into it and denting the metal with its incredible strength. She wailed, tears streaming down her face as she kept pounding away.

Leandros shouted out, ”Raz!” and sprinted over towards the woman, grabbing her from behind in a bear hug before she ruined her limbs in her fit of rage. ”Raz! Raz! Listen to me!” he barked in her ear, pulling her back from the wall. Tears ran down his face and he could not control them.

He regarded Dan as a son, even if the boy did not think the same of the older Mandalorian. He fought beside him for a long, long time, hoping to help him mature and grow into the warrior he knew he was destined to be. As he held Raz in his arms, his mind immediately flashed through all of the times he was irate with Dan. As he cycled through his memories, he stopped on the day Raz became Mand’alor. The day Leandros shamed Dan in front of the clans, humiliating him and ruining any shot he had at being taken seriously. He never apologized for the act, hoping Dan would mature from it. He never apologized, and that stung worse than any bolt could do. Dan died believing Leandros hated him, and now there was no way to rectify that. The Alliance was using them as attack dogs, just like the Sith. Mandalorians – good Mandalorians – died to protect empty bases. To cover the asses of an ungrateful band of terrorists and Jedi.

The Jedi.

They were to blame for this, he knew. They corrupted the minds of the rebels and orchestrated the defense, using Mandalorians as mere cannon fodder to preserve their own numbers. His anger became focused, first on the Sith, then on the Jedi. They were to blame. They were all to blame.

He kept Raz held tight, spinning her in his arms so that they were face-to-face. ”You need to listen to me! That,” he said, looking at the dented wall, ”Is not the answer!” He didn’t know what the answer was, but they needed to figure it out. Someone would pay dearly.

@Sreeya

 

[Narir Solus]

Narir Solus had been a Badger for as long as he could remember, and in all that time, he had fought alongside so many of his fellow Clansmen. They had felled Sith, charged into battle against Moffs, and taken entire worlds from the Empire. They were invincible. They couldn't be touched, and no matter how many battles they went into they always seemed to come out.

Until today.

He'd been in his quarters on Contruum, in the small kitchenette when the address came through. Even as he stood there listening, he felt like his whole body had gone numb. There was building tension and anxiety in his throat as if someone were wrapping his chest in an ever-coiling spring. It couldn't have been real. This didn't happen to them. It just didn't. They were untouchable. '

But they weren't.

With barely a moment's notice, he gripped the side of the sink and began to wretch, voiding everything he had just eaten into the sink before slumping to the ground, back to the cabinets. The message played again and again on the broadcast, and Narir couldn't turn his face away. His whole body felt as if it had gone numb, and his soul... it felt different. Heavy. Cracked as if it had been shaken to its core. He wasn't sure it would be the same again.

Daniel was gone. His brother was gone. And he wasn't coming back.

 

[Hugo Ion]

​

It wasn’t too long before a new boardcast surfaced on the Holonet. People watching would see a battle scarred Duros wearing brownish fatigues. Many would note in the background a white hull of a vessel with engines sounding off nearby. He let out a mournful sigh before staring back with grim determination. There was for a few moments silence as the blue humanoid prepared himself to speak.

Finally, he did. “This is Commander Hugo Ion of the Galactic Alliance. It is with a heavy heart that I have learned of the death of Daniel Solus.”

“He and his fellow warriors were supporting my comrades as allies defending our bases that have recently been compromised. While it is true the bases were mostly empty but their purpose there was not to act as shields but help us bleed the Sith. In fact there were still plenty of the rebels fighting alongside them. Together they did it, inflicting heavy casualties upon our hated foes...but not without losses of our own.

Most of them being my troops.”

Hugo lowered his head, in quiet grief for nearly a minute before continuing.

”Mandalore I know no words of mine alone can be not enough to give comfort for your fallen kin. The lost of loved ones can never be truly replaced.”

The Durosian cleared his throat and stared back with eyes filled with newfound determination.

“I will not let the death of Daniel Solus nor those of my rebels who fought beside him be in vain. As of this moment I hereby authorize the Galactic Alliance to begin full scale operations against the Sith wherever and whenever possible. The rebels will answer for this offense with blood and it will be soon.”

Raising both hands and squeezing them into fists his voice shaking with barely controlled emotion he proclaimed. ”From now on we will stand proudly alongside the clans of Mandalore and do everything in within our power to repay the debt we have been given. We do not see any of you proud Mandalorians as shields nor pawns but as equal allies in the struggle against the damnable Sith.”

Placing his arms behind his back Hugo Ion became more sober.

“Mandalore I am coming in person to your homeland to pay my deepest respects to Field Marshall Daniel Solus. Also to submit myself to your judgment.”

Looking to the side the commander closed his red eyes.

”The Jedi and the rest of the Alliance had nothing to do with Daniel’s death nor those of my fellow rebels. It was my fault, my responsibility as commander for allowing the rearguard action in the first place. Whatever judgment you will decide for me I ask you only of one thing. Do not let the Sith divide our two peoples as the galaxy finally stands a chance of being freed of their accursed rule.”

@Sreeya

 

[Sabrina K]

She was watching real sith wives, at home in her bedroom. As her mum and dad, where annoying again. You should not roast marshmallows on corpses, even if they are Jedi. Stop going to Korriban, you're going to get killed. You should settle down, and have children. She wanted to be something, not just a name falling of the edge of nobility. Then the a news bulletin came in, it was the emperor. She listened to him, it was not address to her or her fellow sith, but mandalore. She thought that was weird, aren't they just a bunch idiots with guns. He should be bring them to heel, like the attack dogs they should be. Though the emperor was wise, so he knows what he is doing.

She listened carefully, and thought those dirty dogs they been working with GA. She was also on one the raids, though hers was less spectacular, she killed gungans on naboo. Though by sounds of that team, had more fun than she did. Her mum would be horrified if she knew, what her little daughter was upto. She was on her way to being a sith crusader, and was trying to find anything to help the empire. As she did not want her children to be middle class, she wanted them to strive up for nobility. That meant getting her hands dirty, and helping the empire.

She was sure why, but their essteam emperor, has decided to reason with the mandalorians. This did actually make sense, as it could help deprive the stinking heretic Jedi an ally. She hated Jedi, stories of them taking children and indoctorating them into their cult. A cult based on lies, like there is only peace. Really then why do have lightsabers, as there is war and combat going on. Though they could have peace, by just letting the Sith rule. Then there would be peace and order throughout the galaxy, and a tax breaks rather than heavy taxation to pay for inefficient things.

She did want to see the beskar armour in a museum, though she guessed holding out an olive branch was better. She wonder if she could with this, as it would be good way to meet new people. Though she have to keep her mouth shut, as she did not want to embarrass herself if she did. As he finished his speech, she then returned to watching real sith wives. Okay it was trash holo tv, but she had to do something, mum dad wanted her to meet Timmy Burch. That was not something she wanted to do, as for starters, he was just another middle class boy, who did not have any ambition above his station.

 

[Diocletian Solus]

Diocletian and his family were on Contruum with the rest of the Badgers. He had met with Raz and she had passed leadership of the House over to him. The warrior had immediately gone to his family, wanting to share a moment with them before the announcement was made public. He had been talking with this wife Alexandra about it but had not yet told his children yet. They sat on the mat of the training room in his family’s quarters. It was a family tradition between Dio and his wife that they would spar when important news was delivered from either of them. It had started when Dio had asked her to marry him after an especially spirited blade training session years ago.

This session had been about ground fighting and Dio’s wife had won the lions share of the bouts. She was a far better ground fighter than he was, it was her job to be such. His wife was rubbing his shoulder, trying to get some of the circulation going back to the now extremely sore joint when his daughter came into the room. “Daddy, there is a mean looking man on the vid talking about Uncle Dan.” Dio immediately looked up at his wife with a worried look on his face and they both stood, running into the other room as the broadcast started again.

Dio’s wife brought her hand up to her open mouth in undisguised shock. Dio himself was numb as he heard the broadcast. Images of his friend went through his mind unbidden like a slide show. Dan fighting along side him. Dan at the announcement of Mand’alor, Dan in a ridiculous outfit playing tea party with Dio’s own daughter. Unconsciously, Dio’s hand dropped to rest on his daughter’s head. He could feel her trembling at the reactions from her parents. Turning towards Dio, his daughter looked up at him. She had her stuffed badger doll in her arms. The one that she had named Archie Two.

“What is that man saying about Uncle Dan?” his daughter asked. Dio dropped down to a knee. He shared a glance with his wife where they made a silent agreement that they would tell her the truth. They had never lied to their children and they would not start now. He looked back into the tear-filled blue eyes of his daughter. This was a man who had stared death in the face, fought the heirs to thrones and the scum of the galaxy, but he was more scared at this moment than any other.

Stiffening his resolve, Dio answered in a calm soft voice, “Uncle Dan is dead.” As he said the words, he felt her crumble both emotionally and physically. She fell into his arms, a crying heap. She didn’t wail or scream, the tears and sobs were quiet, solemn, those of resignation. Dio cradled her in his arms, wrapping them around her and just holding her. After a moment, she looked up at him and said in a broken voice, “Daddy, save him. Please. Don’t let him die.” There it was. He was her superman but, in this case, he could not be. He was just a man who had lost a brother and could only grieve with her.

Dio looked down at his daughter’s tear streaked face and wiped the tears away. “I can not my love, it is already done. Know that he died as he would have wished, in combat. As a true Mandalorian warrior. It was all he ever wanted, to be like us. To feel like he belonged. Maybe this was his way of doing that. Finally belonging.” Dio’s head dropped and he placed his forehead to his daughters and closed his eyes. They sobbed together for a moment, he could hear his wife sobbing as well where she stood with his son. He had no shame about crying in front of his son, he wanted his son to know that emotion was a part of life and warriors should be emotional. It was another lesson he could share, this one paid for with Daniel’s blood. Paid in full.

Just as the sobbing had started to subside, Dio raised his head and looked back his daughter. He smiled softly down to her as she hugged Archie Two, holding the stuffed badger in a fierce embrace. Then the thought came to he and his wife at the same time as they both said at once. “RAZ!” Dio kissed his daughter gently and turned. There was a pause, a moment, where he stopped and touched foreheads with his wife, his hand rising to caress her soft cheek briefly before he ran off towards the training area. He knew she had been heading there after their talk. He ran as if his hair were on fire and he were running to water. There was no telling what the hot headed Mand’alor would do in this case and he hoped he could reach her in time before too much damage was done, physically and mentally.

He pulled up at the doorway, slightly out of breath from the sprint across the compound. The area had been still, the people there almost muted by the situation. He looked into the room just as Leandros was telling her that something was not the answer. He took in the bloody dents in the wall and her blood-soaked hands in a glance. It could have been worse he surmised.

He stepped into the room quietly and walked over to the pair. His face still showed the streaks from his own tears and his shirt had tear stains from his wife and daughter on it. He looked at Leandros and Raz, almost seeming lost for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was broken with grief, “He…he was the best of us and will not be forgotten.” He needed to be strong here, for them and for himself. He reached out and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. His grip was firm, reassuring and unwavering as he continued speaking in a voice that grew more firm with each word. “And someone will pay.”

 

[Drace Solus]

.

"And then I told Sally: 'Pick yer knackers off the floor and get out!"

The bar exploded into raucous laughter, dozens of Mandalorians busting a gut over the humorous tale that had just been recollected by one of them. Drace was among the group, having made a small trip to Nar Shaddaa for a drink; he had been on a mission with Dan on Circumtore, and would see him again tomorrow, when they met for part 2. The Marauder expected to be back in time for dinner, when he'd promised that he'd teach Dan to play Sabacc. Drace rarely truly liked someone, but the man had been an exception. He was fun to be around and likely the only Mandalorian who truly never judged, traits that made him a great man, and made Drace want to befriend him. That was really the reason behind the Sabacc lesson—just a bonding exercise between two warriors at the end of a hard day. He looked forward to it.

Drace felt content, here among his brothers. He rose to clash his mug against several others, a smile on his face for once. He exchanged jokes with some of the Mandalorians, and felt a hundred hands patting his back firmly. Then, a monitor behind the bar turned on, and he craned his head to see why the entire bar had stopped in its tracks. The silence that blanketed the cantina was eerie, especially in such a moment of brotherhood. Drace saw it, and his blood ran cold, the smile on his face freezing.

He sat down slowly when the monitor shut off. The energy of the bar was gone. People were leaving, either ranting angrily or completely quiet, their faces stricken with grief. Drace looked down at the grimy surface of the bar, his mind racing, but body still as a statue. He could feel rage building up inside of him, directed at several people. All the Marauder did was raise his mug and pour the remaining beer out on the floor of the bar. People around took note, and soon the entire cantina was spilling drinks in honor of the dead. They would not forget.

 

[Jak Rau]

It had to happen, sooner or later.

That was the first though that hit Jak Rau as he sat at the bar, listening to the news. Listening wasn't the right word though, more processing then anything else. He'd never met Dan, but he sure as hell had heard of him. People talking in Clan solus brought up his name from time to time, and even a backwater kid like him could understand the kind of importance he had.

But at the same time, this was always gonna happen, someday. They were fighting the Sith, the empire who won last time the Mandalorians had been in full war mode. The same one who came in and put one of their damned Magic Shootin' Freaks of Nature in charge of their whole race. They'd been tempting the bull this whole time, over and over, taking worlds, throwing in with the terrorists fighting against them.

When you taunt a bull, its only a matter of time before eventually, you get the Horns. Still, Dan being the one to bite it, that was rough. Damned rough as well. Sat here on a bar on Nar Shadda, far away from the others since he didn't really get along with his fellows or with a lot of people together, he couldn't help but feel a bit of sympathy.

"Oiy, you hear that? One of 'them savages finally got got."
"Whole buncha 'em. Hey, I think I heard of that one. Called 'em Dumbass Badgah or somethin' like that."
"You'd have-ta be, fightin the empire."

A series of laughs came through as Jak set his drink down. He looked behind him as he saw a group of drunk down and out folks at one of the nearby tables. Two humans laughing as he ate a cheap dinner at a cheap dive. They were still laughing at their joke as Jak got out of his seat, walking over slowly and silently before joining in on the laugh.

"Hahahaahahahahah, Ohhhhh boy. Dumbass Badger, was it? Man, that is a good one...Really good one." He was smiling as he looked to the two, the humans seeming to look confused, glancing to one another as the young kid seemed to just come up and join in.

"Piss Off, we's havin a private conversation here." The one man said as Jak just kept looking at the two, smiling. His eyes glanced to either one, their disheveled appearance spoke of being out of work, and while stained, he recognized the black and crisp attire of an imperial uniform.

"That was just so funny, I couldn't help it. You sir..." Jak said pointing to one of the men, "You're a comedy genius, you know that?" He said, laughing a bit to himself as the two nervously laughed along. "You wanna hear something really funny?"

"I don'-" The sentence never got to finish. Jak's hand was already on his gun before the word even left his mouth. A quick drawing of one of his pistols, and a second later it was level to the mans head. A single trigger pull, followed by a slight turn of his waist and heel. Another trigger pull. Both men lay dead, smoke coming from his blaster as he looked between the two, still smirking as he shoved the mans body into the booth, and pulled out the mans credits.

He walked away, back to the booth where the owner looked at the young man. Jak looked to him, smiled, and flicked the credits to his chest, the money clattering to the ground as he picked up his helmet and slipped it on. "Keep the change." was all he said as he walked out of the bar, gun back in its holster and making his way to the spaceport.

It was inevitable, that someone would end up dead in this war. But so to was it, that someone else would need to die as well. A lot of someones, in fact. This was war, and it was time to start striking back again.