Amnesty day

Empress

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Bitter cold, blowing winds, Glaciers slowly marching eternally, swallowing mountains as they did so. The planet was one that brought questions as to the sanity of anyone wishing to call it home. Ando Prime, the third planet of the Ando system was up until recently just that, a home of sorts for the Dark Jedi of the Bogan, and more recently the sight of a slaughter.


This was all Sal-Devra could think about as she pulled the fur lining of her hood further about her face. The wind had picked up slightly, limiting down visibility to just a few meters at best. The Jedi master could scarcely make out the silhouettes of her work teams fighting the frigid conditions as they roved through the remains of the bombed out Bogan temple . Periodically the winds would whip about the battle site, redolent with the faint remains of burning flesh, electronics, and explosives residue.

The Kiffar stood silently next to her Hutt escort, scanning the area, noting the devastating effects of the battle, bombings, and eventual air attack. The markings where all over the ground where explosives dropped by Jade Armada Bombers left deep impact craters, some filled with the remains of metal shards, and acid burns in the frozen hole giving face to the brutal facts of the battle. It was a reason she stood aside unwilling to touche the remains for fear of reliving the last moments of those who had fallen here first hand.

Sal was here without the knowledge of the Jedi order, and had made plans the moment she felt the loss of her brethren. Privately she had contacted the Hutts, and pleaded her case for Amnesty. To her shock it was allowed, pending she bring only a work force, and no weapons of any kind. This included her Lightsaber. She had agreed' and made good on it, leaving her weapon with her escort to recover it once they were done gathering the fallen.
 

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Grand Admiral Jaka Tyrell strode alongside his Jedi counterpart, huffing at the slightly uncomfortable pace and environment. Against every urging by his personal assistant and security advisor, the commander of the Imperial Second Fleet had chosen to escort this Jedi woman on her research mission to Ando Prime's surface. While Tyrell had not taken part in the battle, he had arrived with additional forces to solidify Hutt presence in the region and to supervise their initial deployment. Unfortunate. he thought to himself, surveying the massive wreckage that used to be terrain. Sloppy at best. I should really get to reading those battle reports, see what happened. He shrugged inwardly- it had only been a few days since his arrival, and deploying the Seventeenth had taken effort. Third, Fifteenth, Seventeeth, Fifty Third... So many fleet numbers! He'd been a busy boy, but he had to bring his mind to the now.

"So, Miss... Quithmaren," he said with a faux-pause: his eidetic memory could recall her full intelligence file. "I have to say, I'm interested in why you felt it wise to come to Ando so soon after a... Well, Jedi massacre. 'Into the nexxu's jaws' comes to mind." Tyrell shot a sidelong look at Sal-Devra past the fur lining of his white jacket's hood, nodding slightly behind him to their team of ten armed guards. While Jaka had no suspicion from the Jedi, Tusa had a fatherly streak somewhere down deep and wouldn't take no for an answer. He slipped a little on the ice, a trooper stumbling to catch up and support him. Tyrell waved him off, sighing.

"Or, why you chose such a despicable planet for your vacation. Surely the Jedi pay better than that." A bit of irony from the commander- something he had to hide from the troops. By his count, it had been exactly four months and seventeen days since he'd last been outside his flagship Tranta- refreshing, yet uncomfortable. He began to miss the enclosed space, began to worry about the wildcard walking beside him. Training kicked in, and he swallowed the doubts, giving Quithmaren as much of his attention as the treacherous ground would allow.
 

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Sal let a faint half hearted chuckle sound escape her lips as she idly dug into the fresh snow with the toe of her boot, sketching out simple faces, or symbols before wiping them clean with the flat of her foot.
" Can't really blame people for wanting to have whats left of their loved ones in a place they can feel better about. " she stated finally, her voice oddly casual given the situation, and company. " By the stars if the Bogan asked me to bring their fallen back I would...Though I'm pretty sure they could care less...but the offer is there"

The Kiffar Master shifted her eyes away from the recovery operations beyond and took a moment to look over the man guarding her, her lip twisting into a half smile as she placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a light squeeze. " I'm sorry for dragging you out here, I'm sure there are places much warmer and nicer you could be...I just didn't want to be insulting by trying and be sneaky, this just...this is not something I thought very honourable given the situation."
 
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Tyrell smiled at his companion, regretting to opt against the face coverings that came standard in the cold terrain package. It didn't feel right, to be so concealed- half of Tyrell's power came from his demeanor, half of his being through his eyes. It was much more than that- the Hutts wanted to make their intentions towards the Jedi and the Republic clear. They were not faceless monsters or grudge-ridden monsters, but forgiving, understanding. Their qualm was with the Republic invaders, not the Jedi- the Bogan were allies, not Hutts.

"I could have very easily sent a delegate, ma'am, coming here was by choice. I have to be frank, I have never set foot in this system before, but more importantly have never met a Jedi. I like to know what I can about potential enemies, and with the very real possibility of one of your Order coming to kill me one day I felt it important to familiarize myself with your mentality." He was afraid he might have offended the woman, and quickly moved to correct himself. "Not that I'm opposed to the company, that is. So far, you're much different than the Bogan would have me believe." After a pause, the pair reached an elevated point to survey more damage.

"A lot of wreckage for such a simple philosophical difference. I assume you two have tried coexisting?"
 

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Sal smiled, she took no offense to his words, nor did she mind being the subject of study. Truth is the Jedi were a mixed group, some were more war hawk like others were more lost in formality and form, and some were like her which carried a less complicated role, the seekers of knowledge, and easing of suffering, who would defend and protect but never attack, ones who saw the force balanced in every day actions, and saw no actions outside of a balanced force.

She paused next to him as they reached the summit of the high point and took a moment to look around about her, her eyes falling on the bodies, stone, ice and metal strewn about as if nothing but the toys of a child, several inches of new snow already falling upon much, nature attempting to wipe the slate clean once more.

" we tried" she stated" long ago we were actually one and the same...the followers of Ashla, and the Followers of Bogan...the light side, and the dark side...and you see the result...there has been a war going on for many, many centuries off and on, Bogan became obsessed with the death of all things, the ultimate salvation in their eyes came in the end of everything....Though I will say there is already something VERY different about them now...they seem....less chaotic, more structured.... Im not going to lie that I never supported this attack, I warned against it, advising both the Grand Master, and even the Chancellor about....this." her final phrase was emphasized by a sweep gesture of her hand. it was then her eyes locked onto something that seemed....out of place...something about the way some of the bomb graters seemed to form impacts that were oddly angled, depth looking far greater than they should have been able to create.
 

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The Grand Admiral let out a long, sad sigh. He was a warrior through and through, a being whose sole purpose in life, in creation, was to destroy. Willingly, day after day he went along with this terrible meaning, following cruel and murderous tactics, raised to believe it was part of the job. It is part of my duty... Or is it?

Some days, he could hardly speak reflecting on what he'd done. His most recent massacre had resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of civilians on Denon, innocents caught in a terrible crossfire to earn his ninty-four surviving vessels safe passage to Iktotch. Some days it weighed on him like a boulder, some days he knew it was a worthwhile sacrifice... Those days, he seemed to agree more with the Bogan than the Jedi.

"As you say, miss Quithmaren, such wars have been raging for centuries, though not on such a grand scale. As space expands it seems so does society's need for bloodshed, does it not?" Tyrell centered his attention on a felled Rodian Jedi at the base of their ridge, no older than eighteen or twenty. "The Bogan, while extreme, do have a point- it's the mentality our Emperor shares. The end justifies the means. If billions must die to secure the continual safety of trillions..." He sighed again, disgusted at even his own words. To throw away billions of lives as if they were spent credit chips...

"I do not believe that there will never be the need for killing, that we can drive 'warfare' from our vocabulary. Some like yourself can use clever words or a kind touch, but men like me..." He shrugged, following her focused line of sight. "Without the fight, we have nothing left." What will become of us?
 

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Sal split her gaze from the odd looking grater for a moment to offer a sidelong grin at the Grand Admirals observation on society and their pursuit of Ideological justice through war. The Man was correct however. Though Sal would have worded it differently, but then again she was an Anthropologist , he was a career military man. " It's the kind touch that is sometimes needed to remind people what their fighting for, and find motivation to keep going." she offered. Her eyes once again slipping to its observations. Curiosity was getting the better of her, SOMETHING was not looking right and it was driving her mad.

" come with me" she urged as she forced her boots from the snow to start a wide step forward. They were moving onto a less tested portion of the glacier, and the Kiffar did not want to tempt face with over confident strides. " And bring synth- rope" she added as she neared the spot of interest.

Kneeling down the Jedi master began tracing her hands over the rim of the impact. The heat and intense pressures fro the explosion had instantly shocked the snow it buried into and caused it to spontaneously melt, then just as instantly re-freeze. The horizontal striping pattern in the ice layer may have escaped notice from others, but to her it was like a book, each layer recording a year in the ice planets history, showing everything from the weather conditions, temperatures to the chemical makeup of the atmosphere. Yet it was the appearance of small grains of dirt and stone trapped in the layers that drew her attention. At the point they were now the glacier should not be showing any of these for several miles down.

The Kiffar put the tip of her finger between her teeth and pulled her hand free from the glove, tracing her skin against the ice as she peered the meter down to the base of the crater. Something in her gut was telling her underneath held a, ice cave, or perhaps a secondary tunnel extending out from past the Bogan Temple. She was unsure, but unwilling to dive in without some form of safety net.
 

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In just a few seconds, Tyrell shifted from amateur philosopher to professional commander, raising his hand with fingers outstretched in a knife-shape. The full hand went twice to the left and twice to the right- his troops split in practiced precision as they began to fan out behind the pair. The Jedi saw something unusual, and if there was something the Grand Admiral hated, it was always the unusual.

"Sergeant, synthrope." The clear commander went double time to catch up to his commander, pushing a tightly wound cord into Tyrell's black gloved hand. The commander stopped next to Sal and held the synthrope's ejector out, pointing it at what appeared to be the most solid ground.

PFT! A high pressured controlled explosion propelled the grappling hook hard into the earth. Tyrell tested the line, giving it over to the Sergeant who had finished a line for Sal-Devra. A Private secured her line as the rest of the squad did the same- only half would go through.

"What's this?"
 

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Sal continued to study the diameter of the explosion, the depth, the way material seemed to try and fill a cavity of sorts. " I'm not sure 100%, but I THINK there is a tunnel or something under this" she stated cooly, half in her own world. " Though It could just very well be a natural cravat that had been covered over the last few decades. "

She could wonder no longer, the walls seemed stable enough, more over given that the bombardment from the JA bombers failed to collapse the entire roof system. " stand a few paces back just in case this goes bad" she stated over her shoulder, her eyes half shutting as she focused.

Wind became fibers that weaved in, and about the physical masses about her, all themselves becoming as threads to a larger tapestry. Her mind tracing them as a whole to a single chord that fed them all, and she embraced it. It was the force she focused on, and drew upon. Half leaning into the hole, rump high in the air as her face, and arms dipped below the crater wall .

The Kiffar's palms open as she focused on the air within the crater, envisioning the air becoming supercharged, particles vibrating, growing warmer, expanding creating a pocket of heat before thrustying her mind outwards in a manner much like a hammer to the now softened ice. She repeated this a few times in pulses until the bottom gave way, leading to a deep dark well extending many meters below.
 

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Grand Admiral Tyrell waved his hand towards one of his troopers in a complicated finger pattern faster than one could possibly speak- the trooper's HEIR weapon soared into Tyrell's hand, followed by its attachable light. With practiced grace Tyrell slapped on the focused light and pointed it down into the crater as the Sergeant finished connecting the Grand Admiral to his line.

"I can't see anything, miss Quithmaren, but I insist you let us go first. Ando isn't exactly known for its hospitable enviornment, much less its animals." One of the younger troops decided it would be a fitting time to join in:

"S'true, ma'am. One-ah my buddies was down 'ere when we were cleanin' it up an' he saw one o' doze bastahds rip ah head righ' off!" The sheepish Twi'lek was silenced with a harsh glare from Jaka.

"As the Private said, miss. Right off." Tyrell gave a wink to the Jedi woman and inched towards the edge, the Sergeant slowly giving his commander more cord. Within a couple of testing seconds, Tyrell dropped two meters down, dangling from the cord and pointing his weapon downwards, his rifle's light just faintly making out the edge of a structure down below. He turned to survey his surroundings to the clear dismay of the Sergeant holding him- it was unfitting for commanders to put themselves in such clear danger, but the Sergeant hadn't known the Emperor's Eyes for long.

"No monsters yet. Have someone let you down- these cords aren't exactly easy on the back when they stop."
 

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Sal simply smiled as she grabbed one end of the rope in her hand, and looped it about her wrist and forearm several times before offering a wink and simply vaulting herself up, and back into the hole feet first. A rather flash, but not at all unexpected way for a force user to do. more over a youthful one who spent her life doing things just as such.

As her feet made contact with solid , and oddly smooth stone, the Kiffar hopped back slightly to allow the shock recoil from her landing redistribute evenly. Doing so she noted her back brushing something cold, and solid. Much like the still darkened flooring, the wall seemed oddly smooth. Granted glaciers had a power to carve stone flat, Sal's instincts were telling her this was different.

" It's a tunnel alright" she shouted once she noted a distinct breeze forming as the long stagnant air found an escape to the surface and began to shift. Reaching into one of the many pouches about her belt the Jedi recovered a small palm lamp. Her pale eyes winced at the sudden burst of light, though she had yet to adjust to the dark. She said nothing for a few moments while she blinked her vision clear and began to look about " one end looks caved in...the other way looks wide open for a few meters before it rounds a corner..... I don't think the Bogan were ever in here, the air is too stagnant for it to have been used in eons."
 

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Eons? Tyrell's throat tightened sharply and he tensed, his fist squeezing hard on the HEIR's handle. This place could be a swarm for disease! Brainrot, Candorian, Direllian! He held his light focused in front of Sal-Devra, calling up to his troops.

"Any chance you boys brought some gas masks?" No such luck. Instead, two makeshift face coverings tossed down. Tyrell covered his face with the thick, heavy cloth- a rudimentary protection, but better than nothing. Unfortunately the Admiral wasn't so quick to leap down, allowing himself to finish sliding down to softly touch on the floor. He unclipped himself and handed Sal-Devra the face covering, looking down the old hallway.

"Hard to believe the Bogan wouldn't know about something right under them. Such a bad tactical error- if your boys had gotten here a couple weeks earlier..." He left the thought unfinished, putting his finger to the earpiece concealed under his hood.

"No, it doesn't look like there's any recent activity." Tyrell said to the digital ghost, kicking up a thick layer of dust. "Give us a couple minutes then come down to take air and dust samples, I want to know everything about this place." Tyrell pointed his rifle down the hallway to illuminate the dusty interior.

"Jedi first."
 

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Sal took the cloth in her hand and cocked a brow at the grand admiral's oh so courtly insistence for her to lead the way. The Kiffar simple stood before him, cocked hip to the side, and arms folded across her chest offering a smug grin before lurching forward to place a swift playful kiss on his cheek. " oooh such the brave explorer you are!" Her words were ripe with friendly sarcasm as she hammed up the damsel in distress roll for a moment before turning on her heels and making her way through the winding halls.

The path was, by the most basic of terms, Stable. some walls were caved inwards as shards of glacier had pushed through, though everything seemed to retain a solid enough support, cave in's seemed more unlikely the further they ventured. The pace of their walk slowed several times as Sal took note of machined carvings upon the granite walls made from the very mountains that the Bogan had tried to use as a temple on the surface, and had been fighting off this wall of Ice for perhaps countless generations.

Her fingers traced each line, each curve, often moving the Grand Admiral's hand as if he was a personal lamp at an angle to allow her to better see the more worn down symbols via their contrast of light and shadow. Her brows knit as she fought to make sense of it. It was not bogan, It was not Ashla, it was none of the more basic languages any group she knew. There was however a slight nagging feeling that touched at her. It was a feeling she knew Tyrell would not notice. This was the presence of the force. It was used here once upon a time, and in great enough ways to leave an echo...but it was not light, nor dark as she had come to know the two aspects.

Where these halls once used by a force culture lost to history? The Kiffar thought little of it until the pair entered a small antechamber a few meters deep, the room was circular cut, and contained amphitheater like seats cut in a tier pattern. leading down to a center point. This was a place of gathering, perhaps to teach. It reminded her of the medical theaters she spend many hours in during her university days.

It was the walls however that drew her attention and led to a sharp gasp...The same odd writings appeared, however these carried hieroglyphics with them. Nothing she could translate, but the images were quite clear. The first showed what appeared to be humanoid figures in long hooded robes standing before a descending craft of sorts, the second depicted a man dressed differently in what appeared to be a Jedi-like meditation. There was something about the man that sat odd with her, an eery sense of recognition. It was as if she felt she knew this man somehow. The third part is what caught her. There standing alone was another carving of the man again, much more clear. Dressed distinctly in the plated armour adorned by the Furce users of Tython during the Force wars, The long hair and braided beard of an aged Alderannian tribal leader, and what appeared to be a halo about his head, along with the ancient language along the brim. Sal could only guess at this point that she was looking into the face of the legendary Calid Baatch.
 

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Tyrell was underwhelmed by their surroundings- much more confused than disinterested. For decades he had studied the various cultures he had subjugated, learned dozens of current trade languages, even recently delved into the Jedi, and he had no clue what these markings meant. A dead language, he presumed, stopping occasionally to closer examine familiar runes found in some of the Core World Dialects: nothing he could read. The Hutts had some fantastic linguists who would love to analyze this... Tyrell assumed they'd have all the time in the world- who would fight to steal an ice cube away? Tyrell snickered at his own image as he walked into the large antechamber, sweeping his rifle left and right to check for dangers.

"Odd. Usually animals burrow down to places like this for shelter against the cold. This would be a blessing to some of the smaller animals... I wonder why they stay away." He looked down at the dirt and ice ridden floors, finding a clear patch. It was obvious that Sal-Devra had found something of interest- force sensitive or not, Tyrell was astute to humanoid reactions, and her's had been if great surprise. The commander unhooked his safety flare and kicked it on, dropping the superheated bar of metal to the floor and letting its reddish-orange light fill the chamber.

"This may be the place to rest, miss Quithmaren. I wouldn't want you to tire yourself." He looked around. "What is this place?"
 

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Sal was only half listening, already busy fumbling in her pouches for a small recording imager to capture the writing. Her brain was flooded with dead languages she had learned before, but this...this was something she had never seen, and doubted anyone had in many many generations.
" I have no idea yet" she admitted, taking a few more recordings as she did so. " It's a temple, or an academy of sorts... or at least this room is." The Kiffar turned from the wall to find herself seated on one of the seats carved from stone, looking into the center point of the room, trying to envision what had been here before.

She remained in the moment reaching her mind outwards through her hands as she place bare skin upon the cold machined earth. She expanded her attention from just the now, to the far past. With her eyes half shut the younger Master touched the fabric of the universe flowing about ,and through the stone, almost as if caressing it in pleasing manner hoping to win it's favor, and ask for it's memories.

The already force saturated stone held nothing back, yet what she saw, and felt was confusing at best. faces of the individuals sitting about her distorted as time stripped away the stones memories, words muted. All the Kiffar could do from her trance was to listen, and try to peace together all that went on about her before the stone theater decided to show her no more.
 

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Tyrell shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed in the middle of the chamber. It was a tactical error to stand in the open, but the Grand Admiral felt the need to project confidence for the lady, who was entirely too focused on the wall. He sighed- the Jedi were a strange bunch, this much he could tell already. He didn't understand their headstrong, reckless nature, didn't understand their focus on 'visions' and histories.

Instead, Tyrell took a more modern approach. He began pacing the circles in a measured cartographer's step, counting out the width of the room, looking at the structural design. It was ancient, familiar to the old chapels in the deep Core.

Tyrell spoke into his comm, reeling off measurements he knew would be recorded by his men. Their reports were beginning to come in- they had just started taking samples.

"We've sent data up to orbit. The Tranta should have details in a few moments."
 

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Sal came from her trance like state to glance over at Tyrell, letting a slight chuckle escape her lips while she refocused her thoughts and tried to make sense of what she had seen. " you military types...always the fastest and most efficient" she teased. Rising to her feet as she looked about the room, spinning on her heels wide eyed like a child in a toy store. " This... this is the story of us my friend, I mean, yeah this is obviously a long lost culture that may or may not have anything to do with us directly.....but they played SOME role in the galaxy once upon a time. Who knows perhaps someone in your bloodline once sat here thousands of years ago. "

The kiffare paced back to the grand admiral and placed a hand on his shoulders, and tipped her jaw. " and you can let down your guard and relax a little.. were are the only living things in here....well aside from microbes and some other extremeophile lifeforms...mostly fungus but last I checked they could not use a gun." She knew she was rambling, and the deep rose kisses to her cheeks gave voice to this. Getting back to their search of the tunnels beyond was the only way she could easily shift her awkward moment.
" Okay.. don the hall that way, about 6 meters there should be some more chambers if I saw correctly...lets look in there"
 

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Tyrell smiled, letting a little laugh escape his lips at her mention of his potential ancestors. While technically it could be true, Tyrell doubted it- in his own mind deep down, he knew his patronage- a test tube and millennia of science. His 'parents' had done little more than donate a cell each and eighteen years of their time. Still, he loved them and assumed they felt the same, so their own history could be his. Instead of dwelling on the fact, Tyrell brought his attention back to his Jedi companion, smiling again.

"Call it habit, Miss Quithmaren, call it superstition- I've seen walking carpets use guns." He chuckled a little more and raised his rifle, carrying it out of the firing position to use solely as a flashlight.

"Preliminary scans are showing that the Bogan weren't here, though we could've told that from the dust. More likely it's been a good couple thousand standard years. Never pictured myself as an archeologist."
 

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Sal smirked slightly as she casually walked past him, an added swagger to her step as she become more comfortable with her surroundings. " May not be one, but your doing a great job as an intern here. it's the observational mind, you have it. Military commanders usually make wonderful armchair historians, even when they don't realize it. and oddly enough the other side can be true as well....and you can drop the formalities, Sal is fine." Pausing the Jedi turned her head over her shoulder and jerked it sharply " you following or do I need to make sure it's clear of hostile enemy spiders first? "

and there was that smile again. It seemed the Kiffar so easily could put everything behind her and live this moment. To her she was exploring with a friend. Not an enemy Admiral, not on a recent battle field. True she was aware of these, yet let them fall to the side for the moment.

The halls varied much of the same damages as the ones before, though the carvings found in the theater continued to line the passages, broken only by six different archways leading into what appeared to be narrow, and shallow rooms. Two of the passages had collapsed to the point that any poking in them would call for equipment to be lowered down, though Sal did not dare waste the resources from the tasks at hand above.
 

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Tyrell smiled and nodded, his currently happy blue eyes in sharp contrast from the safety flare's dying red light. Silhouetted in the light he seemed a thing to be put on Imperial propaganda posters- the relentless commander who had ordered a ground strike in a populated Denon suburb, the man who approved the use of city-leveling missiles at Balmorra, the nightmare who haunted Republic troopers... And when he spoke, he seemed much less- humorous, lighthearted, and most striking against his personality kind. Sal was now one of the few beings in the universe who knew Tyrell as a person instead of a figure- Jaka estimated he could count them all on one hand. He stepped away from the circular meeting room and went in step with Sal.

"Well, actually that would be nice- never was fond of spiders. Have some in the outer rim that will take your head clean off." He smiled and stopped to point the light in one of the smaller offshoots, surveying the structural damage. It didn't look explosive- the building must be on a minor fault. Tyrell mentally marked the passages for later excavation- he was sure his rifle could cut through the rock, but he was also sure he didn't want to stay down here the rest of his days.

"You don't seem like the Jedi the Emperor warned me about. He seems to think they're all... Well, rather stiff- he actually told me not to go alone with you. Your Order's at the top of his paranoia list." Tyrell looked sidelong to Sal, swinging his light around to illuminate further down the hallway.

"And let me tell you, it's quite a list."
 
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