It wasnât logical, at least from a military perspective. The Mandalorians had successfully brought the most powerful planet in the Republic to its knees, which if it were merely the beginning of a war it would have meant the very end for the democratic society once the ash of millions of people dissipated. Yet, they simply left, without claiming any sort of prize, without seizing the opportunity to overthrow the existing government and establish their own rule, instead leaving a battered but breathing Republic to gain its bearings and organize a counter attack in due time. Was it some cultural thing? Mandalorians were a warrior people at heart but could leaving such powerful adversary to live really be worth some code of honor, or was that the only reason they attacked was to prove their supposed superior military might?
Kelnan simply couldnât comprehend why they didnât finish the job after proving they could do it, just what did they have to gain by retreating from a victory? It didnât matter that much anyway, it was he who made the mistake of thinking he could live on this poodoo pile of a planet. He truly thought hiding here was wise, while it was formally the planet of his sworn enemies he knew that the Empire wouldnât dare track him there and even if they did so covertly, they would searching for a man off the grid in a planet sized city, and if he kept his head down not even the Jedi would sense his presence. He managed camouflage himself with a convoy of transports in his sith fighter, small enough not to be noticed as anything but an extra blip on anyoneâs radar, afterwards Kelnan docked it one of the industrial centers where it was only manufacturing droids that would greet him. Not wanting to risk being noticed, Kelnan purposefully stayed as low on the food chain as possible, not even seeking employment, of course it wasnât as if he had any skills that didnât involve murder or borderline espionage that would prove useful to the working class, not to mention the only jobs his skills would be useful in could earn him a reputation.
So he lived on the streets and in the slums only scraping by which of course wasnât easy, but not impossible for him as his training did encompass harsh conditioning including starvation. But now it wasnât just finding scraps and a place to sleep for the night on no, he had to fight for his meals now and what little he owned. In the wake of kilotons of metal and plasma bolts crushing everyone in monumental tides of mass destruction the aftermath and agony left a barbaric and angry people to fend for themselves, even more looting and murdering for the scarce scraps that were only diminishing by the second. The former Sith Initiate more than once had to use his vibroblade just to keep the cloths on his back and the dried ration in his hand.
He should have killed them, it would have been so simple and so easy, they were defenseless and weak, he could have buried his feelings and done the deed, never later feeling any guilt and completing his path to the Dark Side with the death of that mother and her child. But instead he threw away years of mental and physical training, years of becoming part of the Empire which so readily adopted him for two insignificant people, and right now he could have been a full Sith warrior carrying out missions for the glory of his government instead of wallowing in the cesspool of what was once considered the ultimate enemy in his mind. And yet when he looks back at the womanâs pleading eyes, how she used her own body to cover her sonâs, the way she looked at him like his own mother did in her final moments⊠He was weak for letting them live, but somehow he didnât find himself regretting the act, at least not completely.
Kelnan shook his head attempting to push his thoughts away, letting the cool air sober him into the real world as it nipped at visible skin. At this moment the Dark Jedi was searching for a place to call his bed during tonight, preferably a place that was unoccupied and had little chance of him being disturbed by a hostile guest. Something reached his ears, âCan someone help me? Please? I need help!â it sounded female. Instinctively he turned to find the source of the cry, and in the distance he could see a young Zeltron woman to be the most probable source.
He didnât see anyone else.
His better judgment told him that was none of his concern, and indeed it wasnât. So what if someone needed âemergencyâ assistance, like they wouldnât end up as some nameless statistic like everyone else, and besides, it wasnât like Kelnan was some kind of heroâŠThe boy and his mother didnât count, that was just spur of the moment, an error in judgmentâŠHe had no reason to try and get involved in something that had nothing to do with him, so far he had only looked out for himself and though he had complaints things had been working out just fine.
Then the image of his motherâs face appeared again, and he cursed the day he began to grow the mythical "conscience" the Jedi would preach about.
He rushed over, though his suspicious nature told him not to let his guard down, the situation could very well be a deception meant to lure foolishly compassionate passersby into trap that would leave the victim lifeless and without their possessions, Kelnan at least had the Force on his side assuming the opponent didnât have a quick draw and a blaster primed. Upon arriving on the scene rather than put forth any introductory statements he simply blurted, âWhat is it?â