The trip didn't take much longer thankfully. And the entry into the planet's atmosphere was nowhere near as rough as Metai had expected, seeing as how the ship was on its last legs. She grit her teeth as she did a proper diagnostic check. The ship was hanging on by thoughts and prayers. How it got here, she'd never know.

When did it get this bad? There was no trouble on the Selsis's last check up a couple of months ago. Now, the warp drive was totally unsalavagable, several systems (temperature regulation, weapons, etc) were either not working, or only barely working, and finally, the engines were close to falling apart.

A chunk of metal falls off of the ship. Icier whistles.

"Uh Mom? Is the... Ship supposed to do that?" The young teen asked. Metai scowled, crossing her arms. "No. No it is not." She says, trying desperately to control her anger. The former Sith was close to destroying the spaceship the rest of the way. Instead, she took a deep breath. "Icier?" She asks, as she turns to stare at him. He perked up instantly.

"Yeah Mom?" Was it wrong to constantly feel butterflies when he called her that? Was it wrong to feel loved? He asked, his voice now full of optimism. She almost smiled. Almost.

"Less than half a mile to the west, there's a town, if the scanners were correct. Go there and see if you can get the necessary supplies so we can fix the Selsis. I'll stay here and try to fix what I can with what we have on hand." She asks, and Icier frowns, taking another look at the ship, and then turning his head back to Metai.

"Um... I think a new ship would be cheaper." Metai practally growls. "You think we'll find a half decent ship on a backwater, hillbilly planet like this?" She asks her son. The boy, after a moment of thought, nods. "Yeah they'd all suck ass." He says, and then gives her a salute.

"Be back fast! Any budget we got?" Metai thinks for a moment, and then shrugs. "So long as it's less than five thousand credits, spend what you need." She says, and Icier nods. "You know everything we need, correct?" Icier nods again, and then gives her another salute.

"I'll be back in a flash." He says happily as he shoots towards the town. Metai almost feels like she should go with him, but... Icier is nearly an adult now. He can defend himself. Besides, there's a few things that she may be able to repair now that she's landed, and she'd like to do that now. The sooner they're off this planet, the better.

Icier hadn't walked long down the deserted wasteland before he arrived at the town. It was definitely pretty small in his opinion. There was a bunch of torn up, damaged buildings around the small village. Was it actually a village instead of a town? He wasn't sure, but right now, that didn't matter. Small as it was, it was still big enough that he thought he should be able to find a shop to buy what he needs.

He walks forward into the town proper. The place actually reminded him a bit of a planet he and his mom visited when he was younger. Tattaline? Tamaran? Tatooine? Eh, it didn't matter. Still, it resembled that in his mind. Though... This place is definitely less lively, he thinks, as he sees almost no one while wandering around.

Icier was looking everywhere as he walks up and down the roads (well, calling them roads would be a disservice to actual roads) and yet still, not only was there only three - no wait, four - people he'd seen so far, but many of the houses seemed to be boarded up. Hell, he did manage to find a store, but as he walked inside, the place was trashed. And nearly empty too; anything left in the building wasn't useful. Just rubble and scraps.

Icier was getting a bad feeling about this. He didn't like it, not one bit. He opens the front door of the store and is about to walk outside, when he hears movement to his right. Icier turns his head. Everything is still. Quiet. Icier puts one hand behind his back, hovers it over his saber as he moves towards where he heard the noise. This part of the store actually had all sorts of scrap piled on top of each other. Odds are, the metal just jostled a bit.

But...

Icier starts to move around the pile when he catches the glimpse of someone ducking around the other side. Whoever it was, they were small. Maybe a kid? Icier audibly sighed. "Must be losing my mind out here." He says, trying to not sound too obvious. He starts to walk away, making more noise this time with his own footsteps. When he's halfway to the front door, he carefully turns around, and starts walking stealthily to the scrap pile. Quietly, carefully, he moves.

Until he ducks his head around the pile and comes face to face with a kid. She (he's pretty sure anyway)... Holy shit. She's a Diathim. The light originating from her body is minor, enough to stay hidden. Her wings are small, and... And ripped in places. She's shaking now, and Icier can feel so much terror from The Force that he can't stand it. He raises his hands carefully.

"Hey... Hey I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He says, and inwardly, he cringes. Don't the Diathim speak like, their own language? Or wait, do they even talk? He's unsure really, and now he wishes he'd have payed more attention to his mother when she was teaching him about the numerous species in the galaxy.

The child is still shaking, and although he knows it probably won't help much, he sends a calming presence through The Force towards her. She's still terrified, but she tilts her head slightly. Icier does a dumb wave. "Uh, hi. I'm Icier. What are you... Doing here?" He asks, and almost instantly regrets it when the child's fear comes back full force.

Icier isn't stupid. He's not, and he knows that a Diathim isn't one of the races you're going to find just everywhere. He's fairly certain most, if not all of them live on one planet or moon. Again, he's not sure, but he can confidently say that this Diathim, under normal circumstances, shouldn't be here.

Metai had told him about how horrible people across the galaxy could be. Murder, theft, blackmail and all sorts of other crimes. There was also people who would capture kids and other rare species and sell them. That was called trafficking if he remembers right. A small fire ignites in Icier's chest. He's not sure what emotion he's exactly feeling; maybe fury, maybe anger, but right now, he doesn't need those feelings. Icier again sends as much of a calming presence as he can through The Force.

It works. The child rushes forwards and hugs him. She's shivering with fear, but he gently rubs her back. "Hey, hey it'll be fine. I promise." He says, and carefully picks her up. Icier walks back towards the door and leaves the shop. He needs to go back to his mom. She'll know what to do. She always knows what to do.

"Leave her." Metai says, barely giving the Diathim child a glance as she finishes hammering on a piece of the ship. It should stay there, for now at least. Icier shakes his head, and Metai rolls her eyes. "This is not our problem, Icier. Just go back to town, grab the supplies and leave the child with someone there." Icier walks over to her, the child still trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"But Mom! This isn't normal, right? Diathim aren't supposed to just be hanging around like other races... Right?" Metai heaves a heavy sigh. "No. You are correct in that it's odd. Also you are probably right that she was brought here by traffickers." Metai puts her tools back in their proper place inside her case. She then stands up, and gives Icier a strong glare. He winches.

"But none of that matters to us. It is not our job nor our responsibility. All you need to do, is find the necessary tools to fix the Selsis up so we can leave." She says. Icier chews on his bottom lip. "I wasn't your responsibility." He says. Metai glares harder, but Icier keeps going. "You could have left me there. But you didn't. You saved me." Metai groans.

"I did not do that out of the kindness of my heart." She says coldly. "The Force wasn't going to leave me alone until I got you off of that planet and to safety." Icier stands his ground, and inside, Metai is somewhat proud. The pride however, is overshadowed by her rage at the disobedience. "So I'm just supposed to let her and any other kids get hurt more?" He asks, his tone and posture dripping with defeat. For a moment, Metai is happy. She will win this pointless argument, and the two can get on with their lives.

But...

But she knows that Icier isn't like her. She could legitimately leave right now and not care one bit about how many children the supposed traffickers have hurt or taken. But Icier is kind. Too kind. The sort of kindness that will kill him one day. She could nip this in the bud now. Teach him what's important in life. But she supposes, she does spoil him. Too much. She rubs her face with her hands. Fine. She will humor him. Just this once.

"You said that most of the townsfolk seemed to be in hiding, yes?" She asks. Icier seems confused by the sudden question, but he nods. "And you mentioned how most of the shops were either closed or empty?" Again, he nods. Metai puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Then it's simple. The traffickers or whoever, are probably somewhat close by, and use the town's supplies for themselves." Metai had seen it a few times back when she was a young Padawan. And even more times when she was a Jedi. It was easy in small, forsaken planets like these to just rob towns blind of everything they have. Icier's eyes widened.

"That's - Holy crap..." She could feel the sympathy ooze off of him. Metai almost wanted to shake him. It's not his problem. Instead though, she puts a smile on her face. "This is a good thing actually. It solves both of our problems." She says, and enjoys the momentary loss for words Icier experiences.

"I want supplies to fix the ship. You want to go play at being a hero." She starts, and then gives Icier a hard look. Not quite a glare, but enough to get her point across. "Kill them all. Take their supplies and bring them back here. If there's still children, do what you'd like." She says, and then points back to the ship.

"I am waiting here. There is more I can fix, and I do not have any heroic tendencies that need indulging." Metai says honestly. Icier just nods his head slowly. "Alright... Ok, I can do that." He says, and for a moment, she's upset. What's wrong now? Oh, wait. He's never killed people before.

If he wasn't with her, he'd never have to.

"Icier. Remember, there are horrible people in this life. People who don't deserve the air they breath." She says, and watches as Icier takes a few deep breaths. "I understand. I'll do it." He says. Metai nods her head towards him as she picks up her bag of tools and walks over to another part of the ship. Metai sits down and grabs another piece of fallen metal. She's about to start hammering when she feels eyes on her.

She whips her head around and sees the Diathim child. The Diathim child who, was originally sticking to Icier like glue. She groans loudly. "Icier! You forgot the Diathim!" Metai yells loudly. When no response comes, she hits her head on the ship. The Diathim near her just blinks. Metai scowls. The Diathim tilts her head. Metai glares at the Diathim. The Diathim waves at Metai.

Metai screams. She's not babysitting.

Icier walks back towards town with his head held high and his heart held low. Or, well, metaphorically anyway. He's pretty sure his heart is still in the same spot as it was before. His mothers words repeat themselves in his mind. That some people didn't deserve to live. That they needed to die. He just... Icier can't wrap his head around that. He can't. Life is supposed to be precious. The Force had told (well, as much as The Force can tell people things) him that all life was sacred and should be treated as such.

To just so casually end it... He knows his mother used to be a Sith. He's known that for as long as he can remember. Hell, he probably knew it before she ever picked him up. But still... Still. He will always love his mother. No matter what, even if she was still a Sith, he'd cherish her just as much as he does now. That doesn't mean he has to agree with her feelings though.

Right?

Icier hadn't felt so conflicted in a long time. Maybe not ever. But he couldn't worry about that right now. Priorities, get them straight. Save people if necessary, get the ship fixed at all cost. If he just follows that, he'll be fine. As Icier nears the town, he can sense an apprehensive feeling from The Force. Those feelings quickly turn to terror as he can hear a blaster fire. Icier rushes forward, using The Force to conceal himself just like he used to do as a child.

Icier rushes through town as another blaster can be heard. It's closer this time, and Icier's heart fills with pain as he hits the center of town. There's two people dead on the ground, next to a group of people. The group had maybe fifteen, maybe twenty people in it. They were the citizens of the town. But near them, were men (seven) dressed in black military-quality gear, decked out with blasters.

"Alright, now why don't we try this a third time?" One of the men says, as he walks around the group of people. "A piece of our merchandise escaped. It's a very, very valuable piece, one that's already got a few buyers on the line." The man continues as he stalks around the group of people like prey. Icier finds himself growing angrier and angrier as he listens to the man talk.

"Now, this is the only town for miles and miles. Our product has to be be here. And said product is not..." The man pauses, and then laughs. "It's not very subtle. One of you had to see something. I don't buy this whole 'we don't know nothing' shtick all of you are peddling." Another member of the traffickers - Icier is positive that's what they are - grabs an elderly man and shoves him into the ground, his blaster pointing right at his head.

"Ah, good choice Merath!" The man who had done all the talking so far says, as he walks up to the guy. "So, fine citizen-" He says mockingly. Icier's hand grips his saber tightly. "- Do you know where my merchandise is?" The older man shakes as he opens his mouth. "I swear, I swear I didn't see anything!" He says. The talker of the traffickers sighs. "Shoot him." No sooner did those words leave his mouth, did Icier strike.

He uses The Force and pushes the blaster out of the man's hands. Icier then breaks his hiding, and rushes forwards. Maybe his mother was right after all -

Icier weaves between the group, who have started firing on him. He deflects the blaster fire back at the men. Two get shot in the chest, burning a hole through them effortlessly.

- Maybe some people do deserve to die.

"Shit! It's a Jedi!" One of the men yell. Icier won't correct them yet. The remaining four men spread out as the citizens of the town all start running. "Forget them! Kill the damn Jedi!" The talker from before yells. The men all start to focus their fire on him. Icier cleanly swings his blade around, deflecting more blaster fire. One of the men get hit in the arm, and said appendage falls off.

Icier rushes the man, and cleaves him in two at the waist.

"Holy shit! Jedi don't do that!" One of the other men say. Icier keeps his mind as calm as he can. As perfectly collected as he can. Using The Force, he adds a bit of speed into his legs and charges the nearest trafficker. Spinning his saber, he deflects several shots before he raises his blade and strikes; The man's head is severed from his shoulders.

"Dammit, retreat, retreat!" One of the remaining members says. The talker of the group yells at him to stay still. Icier ducks a few blaster shots as he throws his saber. His aim is true, and the blade slices through the man like a boomerang. And like a boomerang, he uses The Force and brings his blade back.

The last two men drop their blasters, and bring out stun batons. The kind that can withstand - mildly anyway - the heat from lightsabers. Icier rushes to the men, switching from Soresu into Makashi. The two men are trained somewhat in close quarters, but it's not enough. Icier dodges a strike from the talker, and kicks him hard, sending him to the ground. He ducks the attack from the other guy, and impales him with his saber in the chest.

The man falls without a word.

Icier turns as he looks at the grounded man. He scowls. He doesn't know it, but he looks just like his mother. Icier walks forward, his saber still lit. The man looks at him with a mix of hatred and fear. "You're no Jedi. They don't fucking slaughter people!" Icier scoffs. "And most people don't kidnap people... Kidnap children." Icier says, and then stomps on the man's left leg. HARD.

The man screams in pain, and Icier leans over the man's body. "I'm only going to ask you this twice." He says, his own voice scaring even him. "Where is the rest of you." It's not a question. It's an ultimatum. And the man on the ground knows it. He spits at Icier. "Fuck you, I ain't telling you shit!" Icier huffs. He severs the man's right leg. The man howls and cries in pain. Icier plants his foot on the man's chest.

"I can find them without you. I can always leave after making sure you don't have any limbs left." Icier states. The hatred in the man's eyes has been almost completely replaced by fear. Fear of death or of Icier, Icier doesn't know.

"Alright, alright..." The man says, tears starting to form in his eyes. "Ten miles to the west. There's a large base we constructed. We've got all sorts of products there - organic and otherwise." He says, and then starts to sob. "Please man, don't kill me. Please don't." Icier stands up fully. He then turns his head around and looks at the two dead bodies nearby.

"Did they even get a chance to beg?" Icier asks slowly. The man sobs again, as the young teen drives his saber into the man's stomach. "You deserve this. They didn't." Icier says coldly. After he watches as the life leaves the man's face, Icier shakes his head. He walks away, and then promptly vomits all over the floor. Icier shakes and nearly cries as he vomits again.

The adrenaline is gone. The fight is over. All that's left is the dead bodies on the ground. He's hit hard by the fact that most of them were because of HIM. Icier cries. And sobs. He's only broken out of his sorrow when a pair of arms wrap around him. He whips his head around, and he's face to face with his mother.

"M- Mom?" He asks. Metai smiles at him, and kisses him on the cheek as she hugs him tightly.

"I am proud of you." She says. And Icier can't help it. He holds onto his mother as he sobs his heart out.

"So..." Icier says a few minutes later as he recovers. His mother bends her head down to look at him. "Yes, Icier?" Icier chuckles. "How did you know I needed you?" Metai laughs softly. "Really, I didn't. You forgot something at the Selsis." She says, and Icier frowns, before his eyes widen. "The Diathim?" He asks. Metai nods, and then raises her cape slightly. The Diathim is holding on to her legs tightly. A small smile graces Metai's face.

"I must say, she's reminding me a lot of you when you were young." She says, and then pulls Icier up off of the floor. "Well, anyway, I hope you at least have gotten some information about how to get supplies for the Selsis." Icier nods. "Ten miles away. That's a base they've got. It has a 'ton of merchandise - organic and otherwise'." Icier says, quoting the dead man. Metai hums.

"Well, you've got some more work to do." She says, and pats Icier on the head. "Good luck. I suppose I'll take the Diathim back to the ship. For now." She says, and Icier gives her a salute. "Promise I'll be back with the stuff we need soon." He says, and starts walking off.

Metai sighs heavily as she watches her son walk off. She should have known his first kills would take a lot out of him. He should be fine now though. It gets easier, after all. Metai looks down at the Diathim still attached to her leg. While she wasn't lying that it remainded her of Icier, it certainly wasn't as endearing as when her son did it.

That didn't mean she hated it however. But she also wasn't going to tolerate it. She shakes her leg slightly. "All of them are dead, you know. You're safe now, child." She says carefully. The Diathim just blinks as she holds on to Metai's leg. Metai frowns. The Diathim blinks again. Metai scowls. The Diathim tilts her head.

"Oh no, we are not doing this again." Metai says, now feeling completely exhausted.

Children. They will be the death of her.