2008-09-18 - A Speech to Completion

Ord Mantell: Garrison Fortress - Red Square
The sparse grass upon the ground offers little in way of relief from the barren landscaping of this square. Fortified durasteel walls of dingy white around the Garrison are covered with scorch marks attesting to blaster fire that has dotted this place. Deep divets in the ground of heavy machinery treads and explosions give the square a no-man's land touch. The eastern wall shows signs of aged crumbling and the western shows abuse from both weather and weapon.
Further into the square sits a low, durasteel a bunker which has seen better days. Battered and pocked with carbon scoring, the building still stands with its thick durasteel blast armor and is secured behind a pair of magnetically sealed blast doors. The Corellian flag flutters from a long pole atop the bunker, marking the colonial territory: but it looks itself to be at the aged end of its lifespan, threadbare and worn. A narrow path wraps around the back of the square to the cliff face which overlooks the spaceport and city below.
 After the last little debacle on planet, Kalira is feeling as though she should be carrying a lot more medical supplies than she is, and makes a mental note to find a clinic to restock her supplies from - before leaving planet again. It's curiosity, now, that brings her back to hear what the Viceroy is going to have to say - and to see how well the man is healing up.
 James Loro walks forward trying to reach a good position to hear the speech from.
 The banners, tapestries, podium, screen, stage, and other decorations are not present for this impromptu event. The only similarity to the earlier speech is the various rows of chairs.
A military presence is very visible, but not enough to oppress or scare the locals, or the offworlders for that matter. A few hundred soldiers stand outside of the large bunker, weapons at the ready, but not raised. All of them stare ahead, though their exact targets are unknown, obscured by the opaque visors on each helmet.
There is also a steady flow of traffic into - and out of - the bunker; Mantellian and L'hnnar soldiers alike move about. The most recent of the exodus form a column of men, on either side of the entryway to the bunker, and leave a berth between them of no more than two meters.
Then the Viceroy appears from within the bunker, already within a fresh suit of armor and, oddly enough, moving as if the earlier assassination attempt had never transpired. He steps onto the grass, nods to the nearest trooper, and then makes his way up the armored aisle.
 Maltorus Valen makes his way from the spaceport. His face is passive and serious. Beside him walks his sister. The two come as representatives of Tatooine, the close neighbor of Ord Mantell. He looks over at her. "Sorry I've been away so much on business. How are things in the government and all that?" He offers her a faint smile.
 Erdal arrives from the spaceport following the duracrete road to the South.
 
 Tuil Lindo stands far back from the bunker, actually he leans against the outer wall close by the gates. The Jedi doesn't look happy, though strangely enough, he doesn't really look all that sad either. Then of course, his rather haggard appearance could be hiding anything. He waits though by the way out for whatever is going to transpire.
 Nashtah leans against the reinforced wall of the courtyard and her arms are crossed over her chest. The huntress's eyes watches the people moving about and also the area where viceroy entered. Her facial expression appears cold and callus.
 Graham moves in from the space port. The young man removes the hood of his robe. He looks around to those who are here. He remains silent for the moment though stepping off to the side and watching.
 "Well enough, I would say. Still trying to figure out a way to get that hospital built," Kalira says quietly to her brother, glancing up at Maltorus as they walk towards where others are assembling. "trying to decide what to do with the ship that Sindri left behind, I think I'm going to talk with Gand about a freighter that I could dock my ship with. I could carry a LOT more medical supplies with a freighter, and it'd be more of a .. traveling hospital than just a traveling clinic," which is what her ship, the Serendipity, is at this point.
 And Anneke is in the middle of the Corellian nobility. Though working at slipping her way over towards the edges of the crowd, where she looks for someplace to sit down or lean against the wall or something.
 Gand and its entourage amble into the area, rasping ammonia.
 Once the Viceroy departs the bunker, a steady flow of metal, the color of blood, follows behind. No less than one-hundred thirty-six armored entities stride forward and, as the Mantellian leader departs the offered column, they do too, but much slower given their mass within the confines. They spill outward, forming a line to the left and right of the Human breezeway; sixty-eight soldiers on either side.
L'hnnar continues to walk. He steps into the seating area, within the gathered crowd, and then allows himself two rotations. His gaze sweeps across those here and, slowly, a thin smile creases his lips. An armored arm spreads in each direction, forming a T with his body, and the thin smile turns into a broad grin.
"Welcome," the Viceroy calls loudly, his deep, syrupy tone booming within the confines of so much metal, "and thank you for coming." He pauses, lowers his arms, and clasps them behind his back wrist-in-palm. "I am pleased to see that, despite the unfortunate events earlier, we are all without fear."
Again, Corellian nobles make attendance, though their numbers fewer, only the starchiest of the Viceroy's supporters sitting in their seats. Their collective tenseness shifts to tightly-controlled surprise at the sight of the man unfazed by the day's earlier events.
 Liam L'hnnar, among them, fitted into a fresh, unbloodied suit, does not share their sentiment, or ease any at comforting words. He offers no grins or smiles, just a harried look to shadowed corners of the complex, their presence more interesting than his father's.
When his gaze finally shifts to the speaker, weary, grey eyes carry the classic harping of an overprotective medical pre-professional - 'I can't believe you're doing this when you should be in bed, resting.'
 Nashtah listens to the speach and passively leans against the wall with her red hair hanging over her shoulder. Nashtah would glance over to some of the other beings in the audience now and then with mild interest.
 James Loro recongizes Anneke and moves to join her.
 
 Pursing his lips, the smile fades. Once more the man's visage becomes little more than an impassive rock of neutrality. Soon, however, a look of resentment takes over. A look of anger. Calmy, though loud enough to be heard, Viceroy L'hnnar continues to speak.
"To those who do not know -- though I am sure that number is infinitely tiny -- there was an attempt on my life earlier today. On the very day that I came to the Mantellians, to assure them of -- and pledge -- my undying assistance in all facets. These would-be's desecrated our planet, our names, and some of our bodies."
Dash glances about, verdant stare consuming each in attendance, one by one. "But they ultimately failed what was to be their goal, and why? Because they chose the wrong people to stage this against, and the wrong planet to do it on. Ord Mantell, like Corellia, will never tolerate or allow such action."
"I promised you my credits, blood, sweat, tears, and, if necessary, my very life!" the Viceroy hollers loudly, gauntlets balling into fists for added measure, and gesturing with each word. Then a lone index finger emerges. "I would die for you," he says matter-of-factly, "and you, and you, and you. I have proven this, and know that I have been taken seriously." He pauses once more, allowing this to soak in before he continues.
 
 Anneke is just sitting there, staring, not even seeming like she is paying attention to anything that is going on around her. Nor does she seem to be blinking very often, even her breathing seems almost slow motion.
 The rather extraordinary shore of armored force is eye catching, to say the least. As result Kalira takes a nice measured step to the side and edges closer to her brother while watching the Viceroy speak. Her gaze briefly takes in the expressions of those others who are doing the same, and she recognizes the core of durasteel that she surmises is why the Viceroy is doing what he's doing. No hint of weakness, ever. It's blood in the water, in politics.
 Tuil watches as people enter through the gate past him. The Jedi turns back to Dash to go on listening his speech and judging the viceroy's performance.
 A young apprentice is standing alone for the time being at the Fortress, he hmms and nods at the Security as they are tight, "Very good." he says and walks inside...
 Gand is simply listening politely.
 Maltorus listens quietly. When Dash speaks of the failure of the assassins to kill him, He claps vigorously.
 Liam frowns, his displeasure with the promises of death, amidst the appropriately-sized claps of support from the Corellian nobles around him, highlighted by the thin line his lips draw. He dare not interrupt, but he glares his selfish protests none the less. Disheartening for a child, when a demigod is made painfully mortal before his eyes.
 James Loro walks up to Anneke and begins speaking quietly, "Are you ok?"
 
 "There are those out there who are terrified of you, and Mantell, and what it would mean if this planet rose to the mighty stature it used to hold," Viceroy L'hnnar continues after adequate pause. "And thus," he says flatly, "they are terrified of me. They need only look at my accomplishments and resources, my credentials and repertoire. They need only look at me and know that their days are numbered."
"I may talk and know the path," Dash murmurs coldly, "but I also walk it. And not behind or above you, my compatriots, brothers and sisters, no... But beside you, before you when necessary. Always willing to do first what I request, and require. Our enemies know this, and they are afraid. Without freedom and sovereignty in the Galaxy -- on Ord Mantell -- they may continue their fiendish deeds and ways. But no more will this be tolerated."
"To those who may have doubts, or wish to harm myself or Ord Mantell, know this: you will be hunted down like the dogs you are, and you will be brought to Mantellian-Corellian justice. You will face our extremes, just as you would have us face your own. Know that," he takes a breath, "there is absolutely no room in this Galaxy for your kind, and even less room in this sector of it."
Once more the man's armored hands find themselves tucked behind him, nestled within the small of his back. "Those who are on the side of those who attempted what they did today, even if they are not in league with them, will meet the same fate: an obscene display of their mortality." Again, he pauses, allowing this to be absorbed.
 Graham remains silent during the speach. He shifts only slightly looking around at those in attendance with more coming.
 
 Tuil listens to this segment of the speech and can't help but smile at the hyperbole regarding Ord Mantell. The former viceroy of this planet digs out his pipe and starts to fill it as he goes on listening.
 
 "I don't wanna talk about it." Anneke says, simply, without otherwise moving, just keeping her gaze on the front, though whether or not her eyes are even focused on it is an entirely different story.
 Maltorus claps again and whistles in support of the Viceroy.
 "Leading by example," Kalira murmurs to Maltorus, her voice barely carrying to her brother before she adds, "Refreshing," and contributes her applause.
 Their mortality? What about his own? Selfish, petulant child, Liam simply runs out of ways to express himself through eyes alone, confined by the permits of customs and appropriateness at events such as this. Silk rustles silently over cheers and claps of support as the boy folds his arms over his chest and resumes tracking the shadows and attending guests. When corpses walk and beasts bleed ichor, one cannot allow a moment of dally.
 "As I stated earlier -- just before a wicked creature's scythe gored my flesh -- Ord Mantell will revel in progress, prosperity, change and, ultimately, peace," the Viceroy's voice booms once more, and, within the confines of the Red Square, harbors an even deeper, darker tone than usual.
"I will do with Ord Mantell what I did -- and am doing -- with Corellia; with all of my charges throughout this Galaxy. I will give you what you all wish, and desire. I will maintain your sovereignty, your freedom, your safety. It will take time, yes, but it shall be completed and adversity conquered!"
Dash quickly turns and moves back towards the front of the seating area, cape billowing behind him as if breathing on its own. He smiles, quietly states something to one of his guard, and then turns back to face everyone.
"I will never give up, never back down!" he exlaims fervently. "Through my veins you," he lifts his arms and, slowly, moves them away from his body, encompassing everyone that sits or stands before of him, "run free. I bleed freedom and prosperity. I bleed Corellia. I bleed," he smiles broadly, teeth baring, "Ord Mantell." Then, again, he pauses and waits.
 James Loro nods to Anneke and moves away from her, clapping politly.
 Maltorus joins the crowd in cheering.
 Erdal cheers as well.
 The Viceroy’s words are inspiring, to say the least, and Kalira applauds and cheers as well.
 
 Anneke, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be cheering too loud, she goes through the motions. But the delayed reaction and sudden blinking makes it seem like she only just realized she should be doing so.
 James Loro glances worriedly at Anneke but continues clapping.
 Liam caves, showing support more important than his own worry, bringing his hands together rhythmically in controlled claps. He would rather nothing be bleeding for anything, but that doesn't seem much the flavor of the day.
 Gand just rasps and buzzes with it's entourage, sounding vaguely like a hive of insects.
 Then, once more, the Mantellian Viceroy, Corellian Viceroy, Moff of the Southwest Region of Space, and so many other titles, nods his head. Lowering his arms, he waits for the crowd to quiet some, then speaks yet again, "I can guarantee all Mantellians unobstructed freedoms and movement here. This is, after all, ultimately your planet."
A pause ensues. "But," the man continues, "I will not be so liberal with offworlders for the next several weeks. Many of you," he motions towards a gathering of natives in the crowd, "have expressed your utter desire for your borders to be completely closed until Mantell is where it should be." He shakes his head slowly.
"This is not going to happen, nor should it," L'hnnar says smoothly. "However. The force currently on its way for deployment will make sure they are well watched, restricted from areas they should not be, and not allowed to wander armmed to the teeth. The other suggestions you have given me -- which will be made public doctrine and law soon -- will be approved."
The Viceroy draws a deep breath before slowly releasing it. "Together," he calls, "we will engage in the necessary reforms to enliven, brighten, and pacify this planet. Our children will speak of a time when Ord Mantell was uncivilized, and how they cherish that which we -- you and I -- sacrificed and gave for them to have the complete opposite. They will thank us for taking back that which is rightfully ours, and writing our own history!"
"We will not limit ourselves, my friends, no," Dash continues, "for we would only do so with fear in our minds, and in our hearts. /We/ are /without/ fear! Utterly and completely!" He stares from person to person then, slowly, allows jade twins to befall a child in the crowd: Liam L'hnnar. The man nods.
"We will, however, act with intelligence, strength, respect and good will. Like all that I set out to do, and eventually accomplish, we will succeed with Ord Mantell!"
Without missing a beat from his last sentiment, the elder L'hnnar continues speaking, "I am here for all Mantellians and Corellians. Should there be anything you need, my office is always open to you, wherever I may be at the time. If I will fight, bleed, and die for you, I will definitely speak with and help you individually."
Then, smiling grimly, and speaking a little louder, and much more fiercely, he adds, "That goes equally for any hostile or enemy of the Mantellian or Corellian state, or myself. I --," he looks around, smile broadening, "we -- will meet you any time you desire. And we will prevail."
Tiredly, dismissively, a sigh is loosed by the man, "Like the Bantha who crushes sand beneath its mighty foot, so shall you be."
 Liam catches the elder L'hnnar's gaze and nods in return. He does not cheer wildly and blindly, but rises to clap in a crisp swish of silks. His features retain the tightness of readied alert, though his gaze does waver when a particularly enthusiastic noblewoman of the plumper variety has to settle back into her chair to fan herself, murmuring praises to the Viceroy's ever-skilled tongue.
 Kalira chuckles quietly at the way the Viceroy just issued challenge, and in return she again applauds and adds her cheers to those of the crowd gathered to listen.
 Graham shuffles a bit more looking about the crowd a few familiar faces. The knight claps politely along with the others, but mostly stands still off to the side just a bit.
 Anneke still hasn't really moved, she actually has her head canted backwards to look skyward right now. A few moments after that her eyes close too. Though after a few moments of that she opens her eyes and looks back towards the front.
 James Loro frowns puzzled by the sand reference because sand isn't harmed by being crushed but he shrugs it off and continues clapping.
 Maltorus Valen's hands clap loudly. He smiles at the speech and yells out from the center of the growing crowd. "Tatooine stands with you!"
 
 Slipping along quietly through the crowd gathered here, a small-ish redheaded girl finds herself at a far more peacable speech this evening than earlier in the day. A look of relief fills her dark eyes to see the Viceroy speaking, and she smiles. Turning toward the white robed knight, Graham, Rena comes to his side and tugs at his sleeve to catch his attention silently.
 Dash pauses, purses his lips, and lets his left hand fall to his belt. Where it would normally procure a cigarra, it garners a silver handle and raises it.
"I have bled for you, yes," the man murmurs aloud, "but it all spilled on the stage."
There is a *shing* sound and, from the silver handle, an anodized blade leaps forth. With the switchblade in hand, L'hnnar reaches to his left arm, pulls two switches, and with a nearly inaudible *click*, the bracer covering his onyx bodysuit falls to the ground.
The man turns his arm so that the underside faces him and, looking from sentient to sentient, digs the blade into the material, and through it. It penetrates the flesh just below the joint in his arm; blood immediately comes forward, pools, and, as he runs metal through his flesh several inches, drips onto the ground at his feet.
The *shing* resonates once more as the blade disappears. L'hnnar returns the handle to concealment and grips his arm, squeezes it, and runs it down the length; more blood spills upon the grass. "I pledge to you, all of you, as I bleed upon Mantellian soil, that we will prevail, and my word is undeniable!"
A nod is cast to Valen, Tuil, and myriad others, but the Viceroy says no more. He merely bows his head, and allows it to hang there, anticipation growing within him.
 Kalira smothers a gasp at the demonstration, watching the blood drip from the Viceroy's arm with a momentarily startled look before she plasters a look of bland neutrality onto her face and, as appropriate, cheers even more. She casts another long look up at her brother, but as he pledges, then so will it be.
 James Loro claps louder and returns to looking for friends of his. He's sees Graham and Rena and heads for them.
 The white robed man turns back as his sleeve is tugged. He turns his attention now to the red haired girl a smile coming to his face. His eyes focus, and he takes a sharp look around a moment before back to the one near him. "Ah, glad you made it." Graham says over to the red haired girl.
 One of the red-clad soldiers breaks from the line, takes five paces forward, and then leans over to reclaim the Viceroy's bracer. The latter waves a hand, stating, "No. Thank you though."
While the soldier returns to his original position L'hnnar, albeit slowly, lowers himself to one knee. He reaches outward and rubs his covered fingers through the bloodied dirt and grass, smearing it about, then brings the digits beneath his nose. A deep breath is taken, and then a thin smile.
Dash garners the piece of armor, comes to a standing position, and begins to refasten the article to his form despite the wound beneath it.
 Rena's attention is diverted briefly from Graham as Dash cuts himself to signify how serious he is about his dealings on Ord Mantell, and her face pales slightly. However, applauding briefly with the rest, her dark eyes come to rest on James Loro as he approaches them and she smiles. Chuckling to the knight with a glimmer of mirth, she replies in a low voice: "Make it - yeah, after that speech earlier, I didn't want to miss this one."
 Once more the deep, molasses-like tone of the Mantellian leader echoes throughout Red Square. "Once more," he proclaims, "I wish to thank each and every one of you for your attendance. That is all that I have to say, for now." A short pause. "It is now time for action, not words." And with that he is in motion, stepping across the grassy square.
 Kalira's analytical mind can't help but try to discern whether or not the bracer would be enough to stem the flow of blood, and makes herself not take any steps towards the stage - such a thing would be VERY inappropriate at the moment. That thoughtful look settles on her face and, for a moment, a soft smile is there as well as she scans the crowd and notes a few familiar faces.
 The moment the blade comes out, Liam blanches. When it touches skin, he freezes, hands trapped in the air between claps. And when the Viceroy again gives blood to the planet, so shortly after coming out of bacta treatments, his fingers ball into fists, knuckles going white as skin tightens over bone.
He takes small, controlled breaths as he settles back to his chair, silent amidst the 'oh's and 'ah's the Corellian ladies let slip between bats of fans.
 James Loro nods and says hello to Rena and turns to Graham "I havn't seen you for a while how have you been doing?" He then hears Dash's words about action and gets a bad feeling.
 Anneke does actually avert her eyes from the blood. Though after that? Well, back to her thousand mile, distant stare and sulk. Whatever the reason for said thing is.
 "I bet, I heard you were quite the guardian earlier." he smiles a bit more at her. He turns to the other. "I have been all over sadly things hopefully are calmed once more now though. Graham says this and than remains quiet again.
 Rena blushes and smiles shyly at being called "quite the guardian" and she laughs nervously. Attention - not something she's very good at handling. Dash seems to be finished with his speech making though, and she moves politely aside as others to do make way for him. Glancing over at Anneke, she inclines her head thoughtfully. Touching Graham on the arm gently, she nearly whispers: "Something's wrong with Anneke ... I'll be right back." And begins walking timidly toward the girl.
 Ironically, James isn't the only one who has a bad feeling. Though Kalira wouldn't call it a 'bad feeling' more like a cautious feeling. The sort of one that any good scientist would have when a test subject does something entirely unexpected and off the chart, outside the established parameters. She knows she's overly analytical but she traces the path that the Viceroy takes, then studies all those armored men again and tries to smother that nervous feeling.
 Maltorus smiles at the display by the Viceroy. "Good show old friend." He whispers to himself. As the Corellian walks off he turns slightly to his sister. "Now that was rousing. A show of true leadership. I would follow him."
 The square is crossed entirely before L'hnnar stops at the southern most edge, just before the road south. Three soldiers, clad in grey armor, side their weapons, step forward, and salute. Their leader offers a nod, closes the distance between them, and because to speak. The movement of his lips can be seen, but the audibility of his words is lost to the area's cacophony.
 
 So far, Anneke hasn't even noticed Rena's arrival. She's definitely lost in her own little world at the moment for reasons probably known only to herself. With the speech seeming stopped for the moment, she cants her head back to stare into the sky again.
 James Loro nods to Rena as she leaves, "I just hope Rena has better luck helping her then I did." He then turns his attention back to Graham and similes wistfully "I know. Several years ago I was in the Republic military and officers and soldiers were graduating faster then there was a need for them. I would love to see those days again."
 When the nobles turn to chatter about fashion, starships, and the new craze of keeping Corellian razorcats as house pets, Liam rises again. His eyes sweep over the crowds, rest briefly over the departing figure of the armored Viceroy and softening. But, he does not follow the elder's path, his clipped steps, instead, taking him away from the bunker, towards the outer wall and gates, jaw set squarely.
 Graham nods his head at the red haired girl moving away. He turns back to the other. "If anyone can Rena will be able to." the white robed man says looking about the gathering. He seems relaxed still, but confusion deeply lines his face after a moment of concentration.
 
 Rena comes up beside Anneke and looks up at the sky as the other girl does, quite puzzled. Trying to keep things light - though they obviously are not - she takes ona quizzical expression: "What'cha looking at, Anneke?"
Lowering her gaze slightly to sweep the rest of the crowd, she notes the movements around her and the uneasy glances given by other people ... a little catching. A light shivers runs down the redheaded girl's spine it seems.
"To the fallen!" calls one of the Mantellian troopers.
"To the fallen!" echoes several of the Corellian troopers, and a few of the red-armored entities.
Then, through some form of body gestures known to soldiers alone, hundreds of blaster pistols, rifles, and repeaters take aim into the air, and so does the double-cannon of the nearby turret.
"TO ORD MANTELL!" they all proclaim in unison and, in an explosive, thuderous clap of weapons discharge, they all fire.
"TO VICEROY L'HNNAR!" the men all call once more, allowing more blaster -- and cannon -- fire to spill into the heavens, the sound echoing throughout the area -- and Worlport -- like thunder.
 "Nothing." Anneke says back to Rena. "Just..." Any other words get drowned out by the massive series of cheering that goes on in turn. So she closes her eyes again, and just lets it all ride out.
 "Really?" Kalira asks, staring up at Mal for a moment before she's turning to scan the crowd again and with a brush of one hand on Mal's arm she starts to walk in the direction of another friend she sees in the gathered audience. She's a few steps away from Graham when the troopers proclaim in unison and she jumps when the weapons all discharge at once. Feeling stupid for being so easily rattled she shudders a bit and hunches her shoulders while tugging her jacket around herself.
 The Viceroy himself cannot help but smile, green eyes looking skyward as the various weapons erupt into the blackness. The golden flecks within his eyes glimmer in the vollies of crimson, and he smiles wider. "I am honored," he whispers quietly to himself, "to serve."
 James Loro relaxes slightly as the salute begins and nods.
 
 Rena also jumps at the gunfire and turns from Anneke ... though she is worried about the girl. Smiling at the salute, she cants her head toward the sky briefly as the guns discharge. Quite an eventful day to remember.
Lowering her gaze, her dark eyes focus in upon Graham across the way being approached by Kalira briefly before turning again to Anneke: "Come on, something is wrong... can't you tell me?" she asks very gently.
 Graham looks over to where the red haired girl has moved to help the familiar lady president. The young mans eyes seems to focus and he remains silent again. The white robed man's eyes are widened when he next turns back towards the speaker even as the blasts go off eye land on the leader of Tattoine. "Ah. Kalira, how are you?" the young man shifts slightly
 "I can't." Anneke says, biting her lower lip. "Unfortunately... I can't... just." She shrugs. Hey eyes still not opening up as she lays there. "I really should just go back to my ship or something. Was stupid to come here."
 "So," Dash says, having moved away from his position and, with the boy coming this direction anyway, heads to intercept, "are you okay?" He pauses, reaches out, and softly squeezes a small shoulder twice. A single brow raises and the man tilts his head. "Things are not bad. At least not as bad as you see them, my boy."
 "Well enough, thank you," Kalira replies, a touch of a soft smile on her face as she firmly suppresses the instinct to shiver again, "though the weapons fire is a little.. startling," she admits. "I don't hear it very often, and when I do, it usually means I don't have enough medkits with me," she admits. "I'm glad to see that the Viceroy is up and around, though, I had the feeling that nothing would keep him from this event. What's a little blood and bodily harm in light of galactic achievement? What about you, how've you been?" she asks.
 James Loro nods to Kalira and wanders off since Maltorus apparently didn't like him anywhere near her.
 
 Liam’s footfalls, while apparently in the direction of Tuil Lindo, halt at the Viceroy's touch. The shower of laser fire overhead gleams off Liam's bare scalp, casting his features, momentarily, into shadow. His tone, much like his visage, is grim and weary, lacking the youthful spark of but a half-day prior, "I'm worried, is all. For you."
A hand cannot help but rise for the wounded forearm, but dares not touch, hovering just away. "At least get that stitched up soon?"
 Maltorus looks around. He smiles as Kalira moves toward and speaks to Graham. He then turns and moves very slowly toward Tuil. As he draws near he bows his head. "Master Lindo. It is good to see you. I wish to extend my condolences at the loss of your apprentice. He seemed a fine Jedi."
 "I will make sure it stays clean, free of infection, and cared for yes," the boy's father murmurs, "but I want it to scar. It needs to scar. It is more than a symbol." He looks down, eyes the arm for a moment, and smiles as he sees that dirt -- Mantellian earth -- from the bracer is mixing with his blood and wound.
Another squeezes of the shoulder, "I appreciate your concern, Liam, but you needn't worry unnecessarily. Today was traumatic for you, I know, and I am sorry for that, but as you saw I prevailed. I will always prevail." He sighs softly. "Old age will be the bane of me, my boy, not a scythe, blaster, proton torpedo, or lightsaber." And then he smiles, looks to Lindo, and then back to Liam.
"Were you wanting to go speak to him?"
 Completely bewildered by Anneke's strange actions, Rena crouches down beside the girl worriedly. Biting her lip, she lays a hand on her arm: "Do you need help back to your ship at least..." Her voice drifts off strangely as she looks between Maltorus and Tuil - and Graham and Kalira once more. She seems a little confused.
 "This failure is my own." Anneke says, though with that she also says. "I wouldn't mind someone walking with though." She says back to Rena. "This planet seems like it's getting more dangerous."
 "I am glad to hear that." the young man says to Kalira. The knight listens and chuckles. "Well it's good you don't often hear those sounds I would think." Graham doesn't remove the grin but peers about for moment. "Well you know you can make more blood so readily." he shakes his head slightly. laughing
 Tuil looks towards Valen and nods slowly, accepting the words for what they're worth.
 Kalira laughs quietly as well, "True, this is true. But.. that doesn't mean that one should just draw out a pint or two and spread it around like paint," she adds with a slow shake of her head. "You know how long it takes the body to replace that much, after all, without external replacement." She gives Graham another smile, "Careful, now, or I'll get started on a topic that'll bore you to tears."
 The young apprentice walks towards Master Tuil and gives a polite nod as well, "I am sorry for your loss." he says as well, "Though I personally think he was a pain in the backside, he was a jedi." he says to him, he doesnt dare looking at Maltorus at eye...
 
 Drawn back to Anneke by worry, Rena helps the girl to her feet wordlessly for now. "Whatever it is - I'm sure it won't look so awful in the morning. Maybe what you need is a good night's sleep. Today's been awful for you, I know..." Still casting a wary glance back at the four across the way who seem to concern the girl so. Shaking it off however, she gently guides Anneke toward the spaceport now.
 James Loro notices Maltorus and Tuil talking and greatfully notes that things are much more peaceful then the last time he had seen the two of them together.
 
 The injured forearm holds his boy's attention and breath for long moment. Symbolic scarring is a foreign, intriguing concept, which he eventually accepts with a sigh. "Yes, sir." His lips crack a touch at the man's attitude. "Let us hope it is old age, indeed. Bacterial infections would hardly do your legacy justice."
Liam then follows the gaze to the Jedi General and his present company. "No," he breathes softly. "I suppose it can wait."
 Maltorus has a look of sadness on his face. "I mean it sincerely, Master Jedi. If I can help to find the killer, in any way, I will gladly do so."
 Tuil lowers his head again and pulls up his hood, not inclined to talk. He merely nods again and then looks down.
 And Anneke stands and begins to walk over towards the Spaceport with Rena. She's not paying much attention to the life around herself right now. She is paying just enough attention to know where she's going, though does ask Rena, "How have you been?"
 "I cant say that I do." the young man says to the question. "Ah it does not bore me i'm interested in healing, though claim any i've done to be luck so far." Graham stops with this inclining his head to those walking back towards the spaceport.
 
 Maltorus nods his head to Tuil and then looks over at Dash. "Viceroy. A rousing speech. You nearly had me declare Mantellian citizenship just to follow your lead." He smiles. A quick glance to Liam is then returned to his 'father'. "As you may know, Kalira has asked me to manage the defenses of Tatooine. Since we fall under your jurisdiction, I hope that perhaps soon we can sit down and discuss a possible arrangement of mutual benefit."
 A gruff, loud laugh isn't quite caught before escaping the Viceroy. He nods. "You are certainly right. That would make me look horrible, wouldn't it? And be so demeaning," he says, chuckling. "It's a good thing it will be prevented." A wink.
L'hnnar looks towards the Jedi Master once more, clears his throat, and nods towards him. "He seems to be free, now, if you would like to discuss whatever it was with him? Or would you like to go together?"
And then there is a familiar voice growing nearer. The Viceroy squeezes Liam's shoulder again, steps forward, and nods his head greatfully.
"Thank you, Mister Valen. That is truly humbling," Dash murmurs. He adds, "Has she now? I can certainly understand why she would want to do that. And yes, we certainly should soon."
 Liam narrows his eyes at Valen's approach, then looks past him to the Jedi. "I suppose I will, if you two could excuse me." Liam bows his head to both men curtly. "Please be mindful, father..." he adds softly, in his final glance over the two men, "of your wound."
Then he quickly steps around the once-leader of Tantooine, and makes for his original destination, though occasionally casting the tiniest of wary looks over his shoulder.
 James Loro looks around and wanders over to Gand. "Hello."
 Tuil is still looking down, lost in thought.
 "If you'd like, I can help you with your studies, if you've the time," Kalira offers to Graham. "I don't imagine you have just tons and tons of free time. But as long as you're going to employ what skills you do acquire to help others, then by all means it's a worthy expenditure of time and effort." Her attention is caught briefly by the exchange of words between Mal and the Viceroy and she seeks to catch her brother's eyes with her own.
 "General Lindo." When his boots finally stop in motion before the Jedi, the boy's features have softened. Tragically effeminate, despite the bald head, Liam looks up at the robed man, gray eyes carrying something akin to familiar compassion as his hands lace behind his back in classic L'hnnar style - or, at least, a butchered imitation.
After a delayed silence, perhaps out of respect, he quietly asks, "Could you spare a moment? I promise to be most brief." A glance around the square, then back up to the man, his only subtle hint at preferred privacy.
 Maltorus looks sadly on Tuil once more and at Liam too as he passes. He turns back to Dash. "In the meantime, how are you really? I was not aware of the attempt on your life. Are there currently any leads on who is responsible? Perhaps my Knights and I can assist with the investigation."
 Tuil can see Liam quite well given how low the boy is and he is looking down. "What brings you to me, Master L'hnnar?"
 Graham looks around another moment, but attention is back on the one nearest when she speaks. "I would be grateful for anything you can teach me." the knight says this and than sighs "Afraid for now I must be off for a bit, but i'm sure we'll meet up again soon." with this the man inclines his head and moves away towards the spaceport.
 Kalira lifts one hand to wave to Graham before he turns to go, "Travel well then," she says before he moves away. She turns back towards where Mal and the others are standing and, with a quietly determined look on her face, makes her way to her brothers side.
 "Really?" Dash echoes with an amused grin. "I am doing quite well, really. The would-be assassin was exceptionally skilled, and very tough. Resilient even." He pauses, looks to his leg, and then brings his focus back to Valen. "He gored my shoulder, back, and thigh, but was exterminated in the end. With him were odd creatures, large, very large, and aggressive. They were made extraordinarily short work of by my soldiers, however."
"As for leads... I have shipped everything gathered at the scene to one of my labs. Results will be known soon."
 Maltorus nods his head seriously. He smirks after a moment and says, "Your...theatrics were quite convincing as well. A clever show of strength. Dramatic, but effective I think." He pauses with another moment and casts a sideways glance at Liam. "Did you have a chance to look in to that... other matter?"
 "Condolences, mostly," Liam admits. "I am not familiar with the bond between.. Jedi. I suppose it is like family..." He sighs softly before continuing. "And, with that, I also want to give you my thanks," his lower lip slips between his teeth, before he continues, "For saving my father's life, today..."
 "I cannot disagree, Mister Valen," the Viceroy retorts, "but they were quite deeper than simple theatrics. It was all to prove a point, though, so you are correct in that." Then, Dash also looks towards the Jedi Master and child, but only briefly. "I began the process, and will complete it soon. Within the week."
 
 Tuil nods to the boy, though he seems wary, as if suspecting this cannot be all.
 James Loro wanders the perimiter of the area.
 Arriving at the group of talking individuals, reaching her brother's side quietly, Kalira offers a murmured, "Viceroy," in greeting before her gaze sweeps around, "Tuil," and lastly, "Liam," before glancing up at Mal. "I am pleased to see and hear peaceful dialogue," she adds. "And you are looking well, Viceroy, I'm glad to see that."
 But, it is. Well, almost. Liam drops a bow at the waist before the robed man, humbled. Upon rising, eyes downcast, veiled behind long lashes, he finishes, "Please continue to stand by his side and protect him." Because, he, himself, cannot. "Thank you. Again."
 Tuil nods at the boy and leaves it at that.
 Mal bows his head. He glances to his sister for a moment. He nods his head in agreement. His face is sad and he speaks quietly. "We are being respectful. Master Lindo's padawan was found dead. Today is not a day for battle. But mourning the loss of a good Jedi to be."
 James Loro wanders over to the group nodding in greeting to everyone.
 The Viceroy offers a nod of greeting to the newly arrived woman. "Ah, Kalira, a pleasure," he murmurs. Another nod, then, "I am doing quite well, thank you. Instead of 'playing tough', I received the proper medical treatement, and then spent the better part of the day submerged in bacta." He nods to Maltorus next, clearly agreeing.
 Tuil can't take it anymore. He turns and leaves.
 Kalira is nodding slowly at Mal's words, "What price one life," she murmurs before a bit of a smile forms on her face and she offers another nod towards the Viceroy, "I'm most glad to hear that. I'd hate to have to try to attempt to persuade you into seeking more medical attention if you were going to tough it out instead. Your arm, I presume, will be tended to as well?" she asks before Tuil rather abruptly turns and leaves. She sighs, "And there goes yet another chance to try to have a word with him, I suppose there may never be a good time."
 Dash nods, "Yes. It will be taken care of, but a more natural healing process will be required. The scar is necessary."
 "I see," Kalira muses aloud. "Then no bacta, of course, as that'll remove the scar entirely. That does, actually, rather well discount a lot of modern medicine. Chiefly, all you need to do then is keep it clean and bandage it until it closes. Then leave it alone really. Make sure you've had an immunization booster, to ward off any secondary infections, but unless it starts to swell or show signs of infection, you should be fine. Once you stop the bleeding. If it's deep enough to warrant sutures you may want to consider.. well, if not sutures ..." and she pauses, "there's a lot of ways to close a wound that'll leave a lasting scar."
 
 The familiar thin smile of the Viceroy returns to his lips. He nods, "Those were my thoughts exactly, but thank you again, Kalira. As for the secondary booster, I received one several weeks ago, but at the behest of Mantell's medical staff, they gave me several others. I think I will be fine. I know I will be."
 Maltorus' eyes linger on Liam and then Tuil as he leaves. He was remaining out of the medical talk. Then his gaze returns to them and he says, "I sense great sadness in Tuil. This has truly affected him. Are you aware of any leads in the bothan's death?"
 "Actually, yes, but they haven't been reported to me personally yet," L'hnnar responds evenly. "Tuil and I are very close, so I have engaged some of my best people into the event. It will be uncovered soon, and taken care of. I am fortunate that I am not bound to the Force, or its pull towards light or dark. I enjoy being able to act autonomously. Righteously."
 
 The Jedi's nod is enough to bring a hopeful smile to the boy's lips, even if the man's departure makes it a short-lived one. Liam then turns on his heel to look over to his father in conversation, weighing his options. But, it has been a long day, the bodyguards are more than capable. With a thoughtful chew of his lips, he begins the trek back over towards the adults.
 Akurel walks into the square, having found it relatively impossible not to hear of the recent skirmish. As one of his attaches briefs him, his words are succint if not cloaked in his usual veil of mysticism. "And lo, the demons shall strike at the heels of the righteous and seek to bring them to death or sick corruption. Like Kerion...could the demons have been mass-produced on Shili? Curious indeed." The behemoth ponders, stroking his beard as he turns his gaze toward the large gathering.
 The eldest Valen nods his head to Loro. "Yes, there are many that do not wish good things for the Jedi." He then emphasizes the next few words. "We are not them." His eyes remain on James for a bit then travel to the Viceroy. "I must be going now. I wish you the best. I will contact you another time for a tactical meeting." He turns to his sister and then gently leans in and kisses her head. "I'll see you soon." He smiles at her and heads for the spaceport.
 A farewell nod is cast towards the departing Valen and, standing near the road leading into the Red Square, Dash's verdant eyes befall the entering Whipid. He nods again, though to the alien, murmuring, "Akurel," in his deep, rich, molasses-like tone.
 Akurel nods. "Viceroy L'hnnar." He replies respectfully, sweeping his greatcoat free of any present debris. It is not a lack of concern, merely matter of factly the way he says "I hear there has been something of an accident? Believe me, of the worst characteristics of these demons is how they can completely ruin your footwear." Humor from the zealot? Not impossible, it seems.
 "Tell me about it," L'hnnar retorts flatly. "After it attempted to assassinate me, and was downed indefinitely, I crushed its skull beneath the heel of my boot. Exactly that happened."
 Catching the tail end of conversation between a stifled yawn, Liam softly interrupts with a: "Ah, I think I will borrow a soldier's bunk in the fortress for the night, Father. Miss Valen. Akurel." He gives each of them a polite nod and waifs towards the bunker.
 The elder L'hnnar nods, motions for one of the soldiers to escort the child, and offers a wave. "Good night, my boy. I will check on you soon."
 Akurel folds his arms. "Just so. Though I cannot take credit for killing the last one. It belongs to a certain redheaded child whom I have grown somwhat paternal in attitude towards. As for footwear, well, that is why I ceased to do so for a number of days after I encountered a similiar creature."
 
 The younger returns a weak smile in exchange before slipping for rest into the building.
 "Yes. The one known as 'Rena'," Dash says with a nod, agreeing. "I have been told. She actually destroyed the creature's weapon today. She is very skilled, and useful, there is no doubting this." Then, clasping his arms behind his back, the man clears his throat. "She need only find her spine now, and hold on to it."
 Akurel tilts his head, then chuckles. "I would not worry about her backbone. My darling niece has more than once displayed to me that the presence of her loafing, doting elder figure is often unnecessary."
 
 "Yes, yes," Dash says, head bobbing. "I get the meaning completely. And Rena, too, is there. She just acts rather shy, or timid. Honestly, though," he shrugs, "it does not matter. When the call to action blares, she has no second thoughts, and that is true courageous valor." 
Category:September 2008 RP Logs