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Homecoming


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Post Sun Aug 26, 2012 6:33 pm

Re: Homecoming

*For a brief moment, Terra thought she had a chance against him, a thought that was quickly crushed when it became quite evident that she was outmatched in every conceivable way. He was stronger, faster and had full command of the Dark Side at his disposal. Even without the horror of her past coming to the surface and with a clear head and without the influence of the shadows, there was no way she could prevail against him.

All throughout the fight, she fought not only against Cadivus, but also against the surge of darkness as the shadows blurred her vision and begged her to give in to her anger and hatred. She felt herself slipping into it, even as she fought desperately against it. Despair began to set in as she faced the possibility of either dying or living as a slave once more. Her struggles were in vain, both against the darkness and against the Sith that was so effortlessly knocking aside her attacks, but something inside her continued to drive her to keep fighting...

Terra felt herself slipping away as Cadivus held her by the neck above the rushing waters below, but by then, her will to fight was hanging by a thread. Darkness was threatening to overtake her completely and she found herself wishing for it to all be over. But beneath the darkness, a tiny flame of light still flickered. She knew she was dead, but maybe she could take him down with one last blow...

The action to reach her lightsaber and activate it took more effort than anything had in her entire life, and it seemed like forever before she had reached it. Her life was slipping away as the blade activated.

All Terra remembered was falling, the breath knocked from her lungs as she hit the water and everything went dark as her limp and broken body was carried away by the rushing water...*
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Post Wed Aug 29, 2012 9:06 pm

Re: Homecoming

"And as we commit this soul to Harmony, let us take solace in knowing that as life leads to death, so too does death lead to life. For as Fulcrum tells us, 'The Balance swings, bringing misfortune to some and fortune to others. Embrace the Balance -'"

Shellen, dour and wearing one of the most expensive suits Soren had ever seen, suppressed a yawn. The ceremony had gone on for over three hours, with the black and white garbed Priest of the Cosmic Balance droning on over the sounds of shovels digging through rich Corellian sod.

Marko, annoyed, leaned over to nudge Soren's elbow. "He's taking an awful long time to say 'Sithspit happens, deal with it,' isn't he?"

Soren stifled a weary smile. It wouldn't do to be caught grinning at a funeral, but El would have agreed with the sentiment. She'd been an atheist of sorts, disdaining even the relatively secular Cosmic Balance religion of her parents. He whispered back. "This is for El's mother, not her." He nodded towards the old woman in black at the edge of the grave, slender white hands gripping a purse that was older and more beaten than Soren felt. "She's lost her daughter and her husband in the same week. Maybe it helps her get through this, thinking that out there someone's got a better deal."

"'Superstitious mumbo-jumbo' is what El called it."

The Jedi apprentice felt his fingers brush against the belt that some day would hold his lightsaber. "She did. But she always put on that white and black necklace before an op."

"I wouldn't know," Marko replied loftily. "I wasn't staring at her neckline the entire mission."

This time Soren allowed himself a small smile.

An hour later, after the Soren watched Shellen escort the grieving Mrs. Damora home from the community temple, Soren and Marko mingled for a while with the other mourners. A few they recognized from CorSec; former officers, mostly, who had served with Elsbeth during her days as a beat cop. One or two assured Soren that they would look after Elsbeth's mother, that she wouldn't want for anything.

Why are they telling me this? Soren thought.

Finally, as the caf ran out and the bitter red wine began to dry up, Marko and Soren strolled between the graves, neither one of them leading. The light from

"How's it feel to be back?" Marko asked.

"Good." The other took in a breath. "The pressure's just right. Not too much carbon dioxide and just the right amount of Oh-two. The day is the right number of hours, the light isn't too bright and it's the right color. It feels like..."

"Home?"

"Yeah." Soren looked down at his feet, feeling a lump in his throat. "Home."

"While you're here -"

Soren flashed the older man a glance, the kind that said "shut up" better than words could. "Marko, I'm tired. I helped bury one of my oldest and dearest friends tonight. I've had entirely too little to drink, and I just listened to a priest prattle on about brotherly love for four hours.The one thing I don't want to listen to is conspiracy theories right now."

Marko raised his hands. "Stang, boss, 'lax. I just wanted to tell you that while you're in the neighborhood you might want to see my notes. Don't give me that look. Just, hey, if you think that there's anything to this, you should swing by my apartment block." Seeing Soren's face, Marko spread his arms wide. "Come on. Look, you're a cop. Cops aren't supposed to believe in coincidences."

"Was."

"Huh?"

Soren stopped, turned and jabbed a finger at Marko, a flash of anger passing through him like a thunderbolt. "I was a cop, Marko. I did my job. I did it well. We both did. But not anymore, you understand?"

"You still talk like one, Soren." Marko shrugged, as unfazed as ever. "I think you're still CorSec at heart. I think you know that there's something going on here and you're too afraid of what you'll find."

Soren laughed as if he would have rather cried. "Really? And what might I find?"

"Come to my place and find out."

"You're sounding like a broken hologram, Marko."

Marko shrugged again and turned on his heel, walking back towards the distant light of the temple.

Soren never saw Marko alive again.
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Post Sun Sep 02, 2012 9:54 pm

Re: Homecoming

Had Terra still been conscious she'd have screamed as the filthy water washed over the ruin of her shoulder. Perhaps she'd have curled herself in a ball to protect her crushed ribs or her broken leg as the water buffeted her to and fro.

After an eternity of sewage boiling around her, Terra's body finally caught on a broken piece of duracrete just meters away from the sewer exit, which abruptly ended in rushing water and steam. Her robes, as tattered as her body, wrapped around the duracrete protrusion and held her just far enough above the water for her face to occasionally gasp in a breath.

Terra stayed there for a long while, the only sound around her the rushing of water, the cawing of hawk-bats and the strained creaking of her water-soaked robes.

Finally, the strip of cloth holding her to the broken duracrete spar gave way and Terra was swept towards the edge, her limbs not obeying her half-conscious attempt to grab at the edge. She'd have fallen had a gnarled old hand not lashed out to grab her by her collar and pull her up.

├óÔé¼┼ôEasy, girl. I've got you.├óÔé¼┬Ø

Then darkness swallowed Terra again.

Terra awoke in a world of red liquid, swirling around her and feeling like cool gel on her skin and numbing her wherever it touched her. As she gradually became aware of her surroundings, she moved her arms and legs involuntarily and felt them come up short, being linked to long sensor cables that attached to her wrists and ankles. Her nose and mouth were covered by a breath mask, leaving her eyes to blink through the red haze.

Bacta tank. It's a bacta tank.

Then the plug in her ear buzzed, and a voice ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ slow, old, almost slurred, as if the speaker had suffered a stroke ├óÔé¼ÔÇ£ spoke into her ear. ├óÔé¼┼ôRelax. You're in a bacta tank. Don't struggle or you'll tear out the IV. Or worse, you'll open up that wound on your shoulder, and all the bacta in the world won't save you.├óÔé¼┬Ø

The voice paused for a second. "Before we go any further with introductions and such, I'd appreciate it if you introduced yourself and explained exactly why you were hanging off the Sal Gheti Falls with a plasma wound and more broken bones than a Hutt has fleas. If you're honest I might even let you leave this place with your brains intact."
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Post Mon Sep 03, 2012 6:59 pm

Re: Homecoming

*The last thing Terra remembered before blacking out was her fall from the catwalk where her ill fated "duel" with Cadivus had taken place and everything had gone black after that. Even after regaining consciousness, her head was still pounding, probably a side effect of Cadivus's none too gentle walk through her mind. The memory of that caused her to shudder and a small whimper escaped her lips. She could still feel him as he casually invaded her mind, prying her memories up from beneath the surface and going through her thoughts like it was nothing...

Unable to hold it back after what she had been through, her body started to shake as she sobbed through the breath mask covering her nose and mouth. Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to shut out the voices and the screams, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her anguish at finding out who she used to be. The experience was still vividly replaying itself in her head, no matter what she did to try and block it out, to try and forget his presence in her mind...

She tried to calm herself down when she heard the voice sounding in her ear, but it took her several minutes to calm down enough to answer him. She didn't feel like telling him anything, not when she was trying so hard to block it all out. Would he even believe her at all? He had pulled her out of there, and yet...

She took a deep shuddering breath and tried to speak loud enough for whoever it was on the other side to hear.*
"I...I'm Terra...I...I w-was....I was....."*Another shudder ran through her as her encounter with Cadivus replayed itself once more and she found herself unable to continue speaking.*
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Post Wed Sep 05, 2012 5:34 pm

Re: Homecoming

[quote="Terra Kiros":3i1gtt95][narration:3i1gtt95]The last thing Terra remembered before blacking out was her fall from the catwalk where her ill fated "duel" with Cadivus had taken place and everything had gone black after that. Even after regaining consciousness, her head was still pounding, probably a side effect of Cadivus's none too gentle walk through her mind. The memory of that caused her to shudder and a small whimper escaped her lips. She could still feel him as he casually invaded her mind, prying her memories up from beneath the surface and going through her thoughts like it was nothing...

Unable to hold it back after what she had been through, her body started to shake as she sobbed through the breath mask covering her nose and mouth. Her hands clenched into fists as she tried to shut out the voices and the screams, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her anguish at finding out who she used to be. The experience was still vividly replaying itself in her head, no matter what she did to try and block it out, to try and forget his presence in her mind...

She tried to calm herself down when she heard the voice sounding in her ear, but it took her several minutes to calm down enough to answer him. She didn't feel like telling him anything, not when she was trying so hard to block it all out. Would he even believe her at all? He had pulled her out of there, and yet...

She took a deep shuddering breath and tried to speak loud enough for whoever it was on the other side to hear.[/narration:3i1gtt95]"I...I'm Terra...I...I w-was....I was....."[narration:3i1gtt95]Another shudder ran through her as her encounter with Cadivus replayed itself once more and she found herself unable to continue speaking.[/narration:3i1gtt95][/quote:3i1gtt95]

If the mysterious speaker had expected an answer, this clearly wasn't it. The figure cursed under his breath and softened his tone. "Alright, calm down. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you. Hey, listen to me. You're in a bacta tank in the basement of Horst Larr Memorial Hospital. Whatever did this to you can't get in here. Now take a deep breath - there you go, nice and easy - and take as much time as you need. But I'm not leaving until I get an answer."

Then, from beyond the haze, came a distant reptilian voice that sounded like scales on metal. "See that the subject's lacrimal glands do not leak tears into the bacta mixture. Such fluid is expensive."

"Shut the kriff up, Ha-Mil."

The speaker hissed in laughter but did not reply. The speaker turned back to the bacta tank, looking almost apologetic. "Eickaries have a terrible sense of humor. Look, my name is Skyle. Scales over there is Dr. Ha-Mil, and he's been working to save what's left of you for the past twelve hours. Did a damn good job, too, because you're still breathing. Now are you going to tell me who you are and what you were doing looking like a drowned gizka in the sewers or am I going to have to start sounding like a broken hologram?"
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Post Wed Sep 05, 2012 8:33 pm

Re: Homecoming

*Terra was able to calm down after another few minutes, and her breathing started to slow as she managed to stave off further panic. Finally calm enough to speak coherently, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, unable to really see much outside the bacta tank anyway.*"I'm...my name is Terra."*She took another deep breath.*"I was...told to meet someone...I was taken into...into the sewers..."*She shuddered again, and took a moment to stave off the wave of darkness that washed over her every time she thought of what had happened in there.*"He...h-he attacked me.....and......and...I must h-have fallen...I d-don't r-really remember..."
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Post Mon Sep 10, 2012 1:26 pm

Re: Homecoming

[quote="Terra Kiros":1nwt1rmp][narration:1nwt1rmp]Terra was able to calm down after another few minutes, and her breathing started to slow as she managed to stave off further panic. Finally calm enough to speak coherently, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, unable to really see much outside the bacta tank anyway.[/narration:1nwt1rmp]"I'm...my name is Terra."[narration:1nwt1rmp]She took another deep breath.[/narration:1nwt1rmp]"I was...told to meet someone...I was taken into...into the sewers..."[narration:1nwt1rmp]She shuddered again, and took a moment to stave off the wave of darkness that washed over her every time she thought of what had happened in there.[/narration:1nwt1rmp]"He...h-he attacked me.....and......and...I must h-have fallen...I d-don't r-really remember..."[/quote:1nwt1rmp]

Skyle's gaze didn't leave Terra's eyes. Now that he was close enough to touch the tank with an outstretched hand, Terra could see his face. He was as old as his voice sounded - his head was as bald as an egg, and his nose and ears were almost too large for the rest of his face. One of his ears was puffed out like a cauliflower; a wrestler's badge of courage, perhaps, or maybe he'd forgotten to wear the riot helmet he cradled in his other arm that day. The rest of his face was scarred and pockmarked from age and countless battles, but if the mileage had affected the old man his eyes didn't show it. They were as blue as Terra's, fierce and alert and calculating and experienced. They had nothing of the cruelty that Cadivus' red and yellow gaze had, but somehow Terra could tell that he was just as accustomed to violence.

The old man waited for Terra to trail off before speaking. "He attacked you? With what, a garbage truck?" Skyle sighed when he saw the girl's body shake with sobs. "No, wait. Don't answer that. I'm too used to being the bad cop. Bad habits die hard. Listen, I'm going to tell you how you came to be here, and if you feel like it you can tell me more. Right now I don't think you're lying."

He turned and pulled a folding chair, then eased himself into it with a sigh. "Ugh. Damn knees." Skyle glanced back up at Terra. "I'm a private investigator. Emphasis on 'private.' My associates and I are looking for a group of criminals called the Blood Hounds in the sewers. Crystal peddlers, mostly. I was following their tag trail in the network when I found you bobbing a few meters away from the Falls."

That reptilian voice returned. "This one still believes she would have received better care at a staffed hospital."

Skyle ignored it. "That wound on your shoulder nearly separated you from your arm and nearly killed you, cauterized or no. It looked to be plasma damage - long-blaster, maybe, or a lightfoil if you've managed to find some Adumari rake in the sewer. Standard operating procedure with government-funded hospitals is to notify CorSec with any weapons-grade plasma damage or slugthrower wounds, and considering the nature of our investigation that wasn't an option. So here you are, in the sub-sub basement of a condemned burn ward clinic. Your surgeon is a lizard. We make do with what we have."

"We have little," the reptilian voice agreed. "This one may be unable to save the subject's arm. The damage was extensive. Even given bacta immersion immediately after injury, nerve damage will cause chronic pain. Professional opinion is to amputate."

Again, Skyle didn't turn away from the girl in the tank. "Not an option."

"Necrosis -"

"Isn't an issue." Skyle's gaze met Terra's again. "You're a Jedi, aren't you?"
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Post Tue Sep 11, 2012 10:38 am

Re: Homecoming

*Terra held the man's gaze for only a moment before closing her eyes again. She wasn't sure what to make of him, but one could only discern so much about a person when viewed through a bacta tank. He certainly didn't seem hostile, at least not now. And it seemed she had him to thank for getting her out of that horrid sewer...

She kept her eyes closed and listened as the old man explained who he was and where he had taken her after getting her out of the sewers. It wasn't the first place she would have imagined being taken to, given how severe her injuries must have been, but this was hardly a normal situation. She recalled taking Cadivus' lightsaber blow directly to the shoulder, and she was surprised that her left arm was still attached at all, as the blade had stabbed right through it. The memory made her wince, and now that Skyle's reptilian associate mentioned it, her entire arm was tingling, with the occasional lancing pain shooting through it. The damage must have been bad indeed...

Of course, she hadn't told him about Cadivus, or named him as her attacker. He didn't know that there was a Sith in the sewers, though Terra had hardly had the presence of mind to even ask what he was doing down there, though he probably wouldn't have told her until she had bowed to him anyway. There wasn't much she could tell Skyle about Cadivus, other than his name and what he was.

A minute passed before she answered him. She had stopped crying and had managed to calm down, at least for the moment. Her composure still hung by a thread as she opened her eyes and met Skyle's gaze once more.*
"Y-yes..."*Her answer was hesitant, as the revelation of her past threw her status as a Jedi into limbo in her mind. She had been a ruthless killer in the past, which sharply contrasted with her life as a Jedi Padawan. How could she still count herself as a member of the Jedi Order with such a past?

She took another deep breath and closed her eyes again.*
"In the sewers...I was...there's a Sith there....his n-name is Cadivus...that's what he told me..."*Another deep breath.*"He...he called me there...a-and...h-he w-wanted me t-to...to join him...I said no...*She left out the reasons for her inclusion in all of this, not wanting to reveal her past to a stranger, even if he had saved her life. Unless he already knew, but she couldn't see how he would.*
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Post Tue Sep 11, 2012 12:19 pm

Re: Homecoming

Skyle waited patiently while the traumatized girl composed herself and explained herself as best she could. At the mention of the word "Sith" the private investigator's eyebrow rose incredulously. "A lightsaber might cause that kind of damage. You're more likely to find an Adumari rake in the sewers than a Sith Lord, though. The Sith are supposed to be extinct."

"This one has heard tales to the contrary," Ha-mil disagreed, still indistinct beyond the tank. "Is it possible that a Sith escaped the purges?"

"Possible but unlikely. Jedi are anything but careless when Dark Jedi are involved." Skyle stood with a grunt and stepped closer to the tank so he was at eye level with the girl. "This... Cadivus, you call him? What did he look like? Was he wearing a mask?"
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Post Tue Sep 11, 2012 1:54 pm

Re: Homecoming

*Terra recalled Cadivus' face, though it could barely be called as such. It had looked like he had been wearing a mask, but it couldn't have been just a mask. It had almost looked like half of his face had been destroyed. She couldn't imagine why, nor did she want to.

She nodded, unsure if Skyle could see the motion.*
"It looked l-like a m-mask..."

*She wasn't sure how people could think that the Sith were extinct, especially after she had not only seen one herself, but had spent a large part of her life training with them. Not to mention Sith threats on the Jedi academy on Corellia and other worlds, at least the ones she had heard about.

But still, the fact that there was a Sith Knight in the sewers beneath the surface of Corellia. The Jedi here needed to know about it as soon as possible, that is if they would accept her word. Her being a former Sith assassin probably wouldn't sit well with them. Even so, she still counted the academy as her home, more so than any place else in the galaxy. She had to let them know somehow, although there wasn't much she could do right now...*
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Post Fri Sep 14, 2012 6:45 pm

Re: Homecoming

It was often easy to forget that, as vivid as the battle between Sith and Jedi was to Terra and those involved in it, not everyone knew how high the stakes really were. People like Skyle, blue collar workers who only read holonews headlines like everyone else, saw this war as one between essentially identical religious groups. It was a conflict they'd rather be over, so they accepted the pundits' views. The Sith Wars were over. The Imperial factions were on the run.

Robes and lightsabers. What was the difference except for color?

Skyle paused, thinking, a finger crooked at his lips. He walked over to a desk, barely in view, and shuffled together some sheets of flimsiplast. Then he pulled out one particular sheet, white, covered in spidery black handwriting underneath a drawing. As Skyle drew closer, Terra recognized the face on the sheet.

The white of the paper didn't do justice to the pallor of Cadivus' skin.

"This him?"
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Post Fri Sep 14, 2012 7:07 pm

Re: Homecoming

*It wasn't easy to focus through the red haze of the bacta tank, but once she did, there was no mistaking that face and the act of merely glancing upon the drawing caused her to shudder. That was him all right, and she was stunned to know that they had a record already.

She nodded slowly.*
"Th-that's him."*She took a deep breath, unsure of how this would go over, but she still felt that she needed to warn the Jedi here on Corellia.*"C-can I...contact the Jedi?"
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Post Tue Sep 18, 2012 1:01 pm

Re: Homecoming

As blurred as her vision was from the bacta immersion, it was impossible for Terra to miss the meaningful look Skyle and the reptilian Ha-Mil exchanged at this.

The private investigator folded up the paper and slid it into one of the pockets on his jumpsuit, then cleared his throat uncomfortably. "That might not be possible, for several reasons. First and most importantly, the Jedi and CorSec have a working relationship. They'd send Jedi to come pick you up, but they'd also send CorSec agents to take a report and mount an investigation."

"This would be undesirable," Ha-Mil added. "We - Skyle and a few others, primarily - believe that the higher ups at CorSec are involved with arms deals and even drug shipments. We have covert surveillance footage placing the leader of the Blood Hounds in the office of Director Arnolict. An operation of this kind would involve Arnolict himself, and previous efforts to take down the Blood Hounds were... unsuccessful."

Skyle nodded, his face darkening. "Good people died. Many of them my friends. But even if we didn't have our suspicions, CorSec would muddle things up. They'd go in guns blazing, and we'd never be able to pick up this Cadivus' trail. And then there's the practical issue of calling the Jedi."

"Commlinks have an effective range of fifty kilometers on open ground," Ha-Mil continued. "In urban areas this range decreases to approximately ten without satellites or wired transmission cables boosting the signal."

"Last night while you were sleeping the Byrhen Telecomm Tower suffered a 'malfunction.' An electrical fire, they're saying, but the same 'malfunction' hit twelve satellites in low orbit. Half the southern continent, including Tyrena and parts of Coronet, are without comm traffic. It's been chaos, especially down here in the Skids. This situation makes me more likely to believe your story, by the way. If there is a Sith Lord on Corellia, this would be the perfect time to spread some chaos."
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Post Fri Sep 21, 2012 12:22 pm

Re: Homecoming

*Terra's heart sank when they told her that they couldn't involve the Jedi on Corellia for fear of putting more people at risk due to Cor Sec's apparent corruption. The issue was compounded by the fact that comms were ineffective anyway, which meant they wouldn't even be able to reach the academy. It meant that she was on her own, as she was the lone Jedi presence to deal with this threat, not that she could do much. It was a miracle that she was even alive right now. She had barely inconvenienced Cadivus, and she didn't even know where to start looking for a way to best him. She was certainly in no condition to fight now...

Her head lowered and she closed her eyes.*
"I...I don't think I can help...I'm no match for him..."
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Post Tue Oct 09, 2012 10:47 pm

Re: Homecoming

Skyle's smiled gently. "Maybe not right now. But I've handled hive scum before." He pulled out his blaster, showing Terra, and looked down the sights, checking the charge counter with a flick of his thumb. "You just point your weapon..."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"... and I shot him."

Soren shook his head, suppressing a smile. The man in front of him had no such inhibitions; he let out a booming laugh that shook the cantina around him, took a swig from the glass of Whyren's Reserve, then slammed it down on the plasteel with enough force that Soren winced in sympathy for the table. Former Chief of Police Shellen had presence in the same sense that black holes did, and had a similar effect on whatever environment he currently inhabited.

"So I take it the private sector is agreeing with you," Soren offered.

"Damn straight. Shorter hours, less paperwork, better pay, and I don't need to worry about lawsuits. Besides, worst thing I need to worry about on the job is corporate espionage, blackmail and one or two bomb threats."

"Bomb threats?"

"Nothing serious. Omaka does a lot of xenoid testing, and we end up on the Holonet on occasion. Big defense tech firms rarely get a good reputation even in the best of times, and ODI is one of the biggest, and the times are frankly the worst." Shellen sighed. "You'd think that gassing gizkas would get the eggheads in R&D a medal, but, sod it, some crazy buggers at the Beings for the Ethical Treatment of Xenofauna are actually fond of the wee bastards. One picture of a gizka with a tear coming out of its eye and the entire HoloNet's ablaze. We put down the blast doors three times this cycle because of BET-X alone, and don't get me started on the XLF."

"That's what you do now?" Soren asked, amused. "Gas gizkas?"

"Among other things. Course, even at the worst of times it beats CorSec." Shellen leaned back in his chair, giving Soren the same searching gaze that he'd used when Kai had been a cadet straight from Point Solitude. "And you? Where'd you go after CorSec hung you out in the cold?"

He briefly considered going with the official story he'd used to get by security in Traffic Control, but he knew better. Becoming a freight trader wasn't in his character, and both of the ex-cops knew it. "Private sector, like you. Investigative work out near Tatooine. Nothing fancy."

"You're a bounty hunter?" Shellen sounded unconvinced.

"Something like that. More savory, though. Less killing."

"Aye. One of the perks of leaving CorSec, I suppose. We've all had our fill of blood, even from the scum who deserved to spill it."

"Was it always like this?" Soren indicated the rest of the cantina with a jerk of his head. "Scum? When did we start seeing them as that instead of as law-abiding citizens?"

The chief of security chuckled and stroked his rusty beard with his unoccupied hand. "I think it was on my first day. Back when I was strong. No beard, even better with the ladies. I remember kicking down the door to a glass-house with my supervisor, this Zabrak woman named And'res with a prow that would put a battleship to shame, and saw this punk snorting lines off a passed-out girl who couldn't have been older than fifteen. I remember him drawing a blaster on me, this nasty sawn-off carbine that must have broken every law in the books, and just before he pulled the trigger I thought to myself... 'I'm going to hate all you kriffing bastards by the end of this, aren't I.'"

"I never did," the younger man replied softly.

"Wait until you're my age and we'll talk."

"I'll take that bet." Soren slid out of his chair and helped the massive man to his feet. "You want me to help you to the air taxi? This isn't exactly the best neighborhood."

"We're not going back to Omaka." Shellie paused to take a final sip from the whiskey. "We're going to Marko's. It's not far, and we have things to discuss."

Soren sighed. "You, too, Shellen?"

"Aye. Marko's not the only one convinced that there's something rotten happening in this city." Shellen made for the exit, his cane tapping on the duracrete tiles. Despite the old man's age and inebriated state, the 'scum' surrounding the bar gave him a wide berth.

Soren watched the old man reach the door, his jaw clenched. "If that's your destination, I'm not going. I'm not getting dragged into whatever mess you two have gotten into."

Shellen half-turned, his bushy eyebrows rising in mock surprise. "Oh? So I suppose you'll be letting a feeble old man walk ten blocks at night in the worst sector of Coronet, prey to any roving bands of blackguards that may come his way?" He continued out the door into Coronet's warm night air.

The Jedi apprentice sighed and followed.
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Post Wed Oct 31, 2012 10:32 pm

Re: Homecoming

This isn't happening, Soren thought as the door slid open.

Marko would have looked almost peaceful had his neck not been carved from ear to ear. The man lay spread-eagled like a casually discarded toy in the center of the dingy apartment, already coagulating blood cementing him to the floor. Around him fluttered sheets of flimsiplast and old papers that danced in the breeze from the open window.

"Sithspit," Shellen whispered. "Marko..."

"He was right." The Jedi apprentice stood up, wiping his mouth, his eyes and voice already raw. "He was right and I didn't listen to him." Don't look at him. He's not there. Don't look -

"Soren, lad -"

"Don't. Not now." Soren fumbled to grab his comm, driven by instinct if nothing else, and barely managed to flip open the device before his fingers failed him and it clattered to the tiles of the hab block. Unconsciously he crouched down to try to pick it up, but he only pushed it further away. His fingers didn't seem to be working. "Get CorSec, someone. EMTs will get him out. There's a -"

"Soren, listen -"

"Let me think, you stupid rodder." Soren hadn't realized he'd raised his voice. Why was he standing? He'd been sitting just a moment before. He forced himself to unclench his fists and take a deep breath.

Shellen just looked at him, looking older and sadder than Soren had ever seen him. "Soren. Marko knew they were coming to get him. He'd have alerted CorSec the minute they came in through the window. Break-ins are high priority. They'll be here in minutes, lad, so we need to move quickly. Look at me." He reached out and grabbed Soren by the shoulder, forcing him to turn back to face him. "They'll have taken his notes from the terminal. Marko knew their MO, so he'll have hidden a backup in the room, maybe in physical media. Find it."

Soren raised his eyes. "But the body's still in there."

"I'll do a scan with my multitool and see what I can pick up. Don't look at it, don't think about it. Just go by instinct." Shellen grabbed the commlink on the floor and shoved it into Soren's hands.

Use the Force. Soren tittered.

"Do you understand? Good. Now move. We have thirty seconds." Shellen let go of Soren's shoulder and swept into the room, drawing something expensive-looking and shiny from his suit pocket. He crouched over Marko's body and began to draw the device across the slash wound on his neck.

Soren found himself standing in front of the bookcase, conscious of Shellen moving behind him. His fingers ran across the titles of the optical media discs without touching them. Most were just holos of popular shows the man had watched, some more embarrassing than others. A few were personal holos Marko had of his family, friends, coworkers and one or two of his ex-wife.

Where would Marko hide a disc containing the biggest case in Corellian history?

"Ten seconds, Soren."

"Twi'lek Twilight."

Shellen turned, confused. "The skin flick?"

"The worst ever made." Soren's fingers closed over the disc case and pulled it out. He flipped it open and saw, nestled between the optical storage disc and the jewel case a tiny multi-media card perfect for mobile storage. "Got it."

Shellen stowed his device and carefully stepped back from the body. In the distance they heard sirens. "They've arrived," the old man hissed.

"I'm not supposed to be on this planet, Shellie."

"I know, lad. Go up through the maintenance shaft until you get to the roof. There's a speeder pad that shouldn't be in use. Wait there, I'll have someone come get you."

"What about you?"

"I'm a respected pillar of the community," Shellen reminded him. "Arnolict couldn't care less where I am. Just go. I'll be fine."

Soren hesitated for a long moment. Then, as he heard the garbled radio transmissions from the stairwell below, Soren met Shellen's gaze. "Stay safe, boss."

"You too, lad."

Soren turned and ran.
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Post Wed Nov 28, 2012 12:23 am

Re: Homecoming

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Post Thu Dec 20, 2012 10:49 pm

Re: Homecoming

Soren thrust the datapad into his coat pocket, his mind racing. If Terra had been the one to kill Marko and all the others, she was here, on Corellia. She'd been tailing Serrin Roma at the meeting on Tython. Which meant that Terra was at the Academy, right between Coronet and Tyrena.

As he stood there and thought, his coat pulled tight around him against the chilling winds, the air was cut by the shriek of approaching repulsors. Soren saw the graceful wing-shape of a tan Omaka T-wing airspeeder swing overhead before it settled in on the duracrete landing pad. There was a moment of relative silence on the rooftop as hydraulics hissed and the ship's many moving parts adjusted to the sudden return of gravity. Then, the cockpit opened like a mechanical flower, and a lithe brown shape slid from the pilot's seat into the night.

Soren approached warily, a hand resting on his pistol. The newcomer was clearly a nonhuman of some kind, though what precise subspecies Soren couldn't tell. It was feline and clearly female, wearing a tan flight suit over brown skin. Her face seemed to be all large yellow eyes, electrodes and swiveling ears, but despite the look of alertness she exuded she somehow managed to make herself seem at ease.

The newcomer met him halfway, raising a clawed hand. "Keeli M'kai," she offered. "Jarheads at ODI call me Mickey for short."

He took her hand and shook it. "Should I call you Mickey?" Soren asked with a measure of caution.

"If you want." She let out a laugh. "I'm not picky. You must be Soren. Chief told me all about you."

"Good things?"

"Some. Mostly how you were a hardass on the job, and a beardless, indecisive ninny off of it. His words, not mine."

"Ah," Soren said, hurt. "I trust you're my new pilot."

"'Chauffeur' is how Shellen put it, along with whatever else you need me to be. I'm to make sure you get where you need to go, kill who needs killing and carry what needs carrying. I'm also supposed to keep you safe."

"I assume you've also got orders to keep me fed and watered, check me for lice and take me for walks every afternoon," Soren replied dryly.

Mickey grinned. "Something like that. Chief's a bit of a mother hen when he doesn't need to be. I'm who he sent, though. If you don't like it, you could try walking. I hear it's rather far to CorSec Plaza, and this is a very high building."

Soren glanced at the mesh screen between him and the three kilometer drop to the surface and suppressed a shudder. "Given that choice, I think I can handle a scratch behind the ears now and then."

"Good boy," Mickey purred. "Now strap in and we'll get airborne. You can brief me while we fly."

A moment later the dropship lifted off the ground and slid into the endless stream of metal and life above.
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Post Thu Dec 27, 2012 9:02 pm

Re: Homecoming

"There are some toys the Chief thought you could use back there," Mickey suggested. "You might want to take a look."

There were a few, Soren conceded. A fully charged datapad, several heat sinks for a blaster pistol, a rather nasty-looking collapsible asp-sword, a number of documents and what appeared to be a full-length mesh body glove. Mickey politely averted her eyes while Soren slid into the body glove and dressed over it.

Mickey maneuvered through the metropolitan skyscape with practiced ease as Soren explained the situation from the troop pod.

"You seriously think there's a Sith running around Corellia? Right under the Temple's nose?" Mickey snorted. "I thought the Sith were supposed to be gone. Something about a big mop-up operation out on the Rim."

Soren nodded grimly. "Under the Grand Master's nose, specifically. I saw her on Tython at the Conclave. Human female. A hundred and sixty centimeters, forty-five kilos or so. Blond, big blue eyes."

"Sounds like you've got a crush."

A flash of anger surged through Soren's aura, but he kept it contained. "Not my type, and not old enough. Then again, they don't need to be. What do you know about the Sith?"

"Not much, but then again most people don't." Spotting a nearby CorSec hover sled, Mickey slowed the dropship a hair. "They're like Jedi, right?"

"Basically, though it goes a bit deeper than that. The Sith want power, and lots of it. They'll stop at nothing to make sure that the Jedi and anyone who stand in their way are wiped out so they can achieve their goals. They use the Force as a weapon."

"Still not sounding all that different from Jedi."

Kriff that. "It's not that simple, Mickey." Soren thought for a moment. "The Jedi don't fight unless they're pushed to. They don't take power unless it's given to them."

"That's always how it starts, kid. Emergency powers, interim governments; I've seen it happen before. Not many people remember the Diktat, but I do. He always made speeches about how regrettable it was that the Corellian Council couldn't convene that year, because of the 'ongoing crisis.'" Mickey chuckled. "Shows you what happens. Politicians and Jedi may wear different robes and answer to different councils, but they're still men, and men and power go together like kittens and cream."

Soren sighed, unconvinced. Then, consulting the readout behind the pilot's seat, pointed out the canopy. "There. Northwest. We'll be on the Academy in a moment."

Mickey looked at the flight pattern, her yellow eyes flashing across holographic screens. "If I land at the Academy I'll have to register a passenger manifest. The assassin will know you're coming."

"Drop me off by the entrance, then."

"Going undercover, spy boy?"

"Something like it." Soren gave her a weak but reassuring smile. "Pick me up in half an hour - with or without the assassin." He thought for a moment, then: "Spy boy?"

"Would you prefer 'indecisive ninny?'"

"Point taken."

The dropship eased around the castle-like Academy and finally found a landing spot within the shadow of the surrounding forest. The dropship's door opened and Soren slipped out, carrying the collapsed asp inside his body glove. He adjusted himself, making sure that none of the catsuit showed from under his clothing, then walked towards the Academy.

The grounds were well lit, and Soren spotted several active vid cams on the walls of the building. There were a few students and Knights walking to and from classes, but none within talking distance. Soren drew few curious glances as he approached the steps, clutching his datapad with whitened knuckles.

Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. You will face your fear. You will let it pass over you and through you. And when it has gone past you will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only the Force will remain.

It was a good, comforting thought. Soren soothed himself as he walked, doing his best to quiet the voices of anxiety and hatred in his mind. He let memories of Marko and the coiled asp in his body glove slip out of his head with his fear, and by the time the guardian Jedi Knight at the door came into view Soren was in a state of complete peace.

"Welcome, traveler." The Knight, an older woman with a hatchet for a face, inclined her head. "Do you seek guidance or sanctuary?"

Soren returned the bow, feeling especially self-conscious. He let the Coruscanti accent slip in as he spoke - just a hint, as if he had spent decades on Corellia and had just gotten the grasp of pronouncing his Reshes. "Actually, I'm looking for a student here by the name of Terra Kiros. She's a... friend of mine." He allowed his face to redden slightly. "Oh, sorry, I forgot. I'm Kyp Vella. I'm her, ah..." He fumbled for the words, letting the Knight step in.

"I understand," the Knight replied, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "What is this concerning?"

So far so good. "We had dinner the other night in Coronet and she left her datapad." A lie, and a rather unconvincing one at that, but Soren drew on the trickle of Force he had to give the lie weight. "She said that I could find her at the Academy, so here I am. Do you know where I could find her? I'm sure she'll need it for classes."

"If truth be told I thought she would be with you," the Knight said, skepticism creeping into her voice.

"Why do you say that?"

"It's not unknown for students here to venture into Coronet to relieve stress. Uncommon, but not unknown. The Academy is always here for them when they return. I am not surprised Apprentice Kiros found the need for companionship. She is and always has been a lonely girl."

I imagine. "Do you know where she is right now?"

"Apprentice Kiros has not been seen for three days now," the Knight said disapprovingly. "Our surveillance cameras recorded her departure around dinnertime. Her cred-card was used at the tram station leading to Tyrena, and was last used at station Besh-7. A thoroughly disreputable area of the city." She sniffed. "The Academy will be here for when she returns."

Soren's mind raced. If Kiros wasn't here, then that meant she was already at work. "Ah... Thank you for your time, ma'am."

The Knight inclined her head. "May the Force be with you, young man. I pray you find her."

Strange that they wouldn't look for her, Soren thought as he left the grounds. But then again, I wouldn't want a Sith assassin at my school either. He reached the dropship and silently strapped himself into one of the seats in the troop pod.

"No luck?" Mickey asked.

"I think I know where to find her," Soren answered. He brought up his datapad and raised the map function. Sure enough, there it was, right in the middle of everything. "Crystal Plaza, right by the Horst Larr Memorial Hospital. Home to every crystal peddler and gang-banger in Tyrena." He allowed himself a smile.

I'm coming for you.
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Post Mon Jan 07, 2013 10:36 pm

Re: Homecoming

It was only a few standard hours later when the troop ship fluttered over the complex system of industrial parks and cisterns that pockmarked Tyrena's surface like combs in a sweetfly hive.

Soren felt something - a note of disturbance from Mickey, who didn't allow a hint of it to show on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Comm net's a mess," she answered. She hit a few keys with a free hand, then let out a feline growl. "GPS, too. It's all over this portion of the city. CorSec's advising civilian craft to steer clear of the northeastern sector; something about an electrical fire at the Byrhen Telecomm Tower. We're flying blind."

"That can't be a coincidence."

"Doubt it."

"How long has the comm array been out?" Soren asked.

"Three days."

"Then it's definitely not a coincidence. Kiros went missing in that time frame. Someone doesn't want us to be here."

"Surely." Mickey glanced back at Soren, concern touching her yellow eyes. "Are you sure we should head in? There won't be a chance to call for ODI to back us up. You'll be limited to commlink, and even that won't be reliable. It's a jungle down there."

"I know, Mick." Soren gripped his asp, knuckles white on carbon fiber. "Blood Hounds. Crystal peddlers."

"Upstanding citizens," she laughed. "Remember, spy boy, I promised to keep you alive. I keep my promises."

"I'm sure you do."

"From the looks of it that's Highland Park. You know your way from there?"

"Two levels down, bear northeast. I can follow the tram line."

"Good boy. I'll lock onto your comm signal but keep a low profile. Stay sharp down there."

The dropship swung around. A keen observer would have seen the dark figure drop from the troop bay and land a meter or two below. In Highland Park, though, people tended to stick to their own business, for matters of survival if nothing else. The sharp eye turned inward, thinking of purses full of cred-chips and expensive commlinks, and Soren went unnoticed.

Highland Park was the kind of domesticated wooded area often found in Tyrena's urbanized sprawl, especially where the outskirts of Coronet met Tyrena's seedy underbelly. There was nothing domestic about the activities that went on in it. Drug peddlers found bags of spice easy to deal under the shadows of the old Corellian oak trees, and those with more depraved inclinations visited the abandoned park facilities for quick, dangerous and anonymous couplings. It was the kind of place Soren hated - then again, though, he'd never been one for nature.
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