The Avalan Crisis: Moral Economics
Posted on Wed Feb 13th, 2013 @ 4:36am by Thane & Bomoor Thort
Edited on on Wed Jun 8th, 2022 @ 1:59pm
2,659 words; about a 13 minute read
Chapter:
Additional Stories
Location: Iziz, Onderon
Timeline: 1,208 ABY, After "Arrival"
OLD
A young boy suddenly darted past them, a loaf of bread in hand as an older man chased him, shouting an unknown number of extreme profanities at the young thief, almost bashing into Thane and causing his hand to reflexively shoot down to his lightsaber hilt.
"In fact," the Selkath went on warmly, "I think we're in for quite an enjoyable adventure!"
NEW
The second instalment of The Avalan Crisis posts, chronicling the young Padawans, Thane and Bomoor Thort.
"Hey!" A voice called, rather rudely and loudly in the direction of the Jedi party. "Yeah, you - the Hammerhead!"
It was an Onderonian native standing at a stall, slightly portly, sweaty and with tanned skin. With one hand stretching out to Bomoor in particular, as if willing him over to his look at his wares, the other ran over his shining bald head, some sweat slipping off with his palm.
"I got some great fruits here, y'know!?" He called once more, now waving a hand over the dried organic products. "Some nice hydroponic vegetables, good an' tasty - perfect for the discerning Ithorian palate, right?" He gave a fake grin to Bomoor, not even really paying attention to his Jedi companions.
The consular slowed his pace at the address, "No thank you," Bomoor waved a hand in the direction of the dirty man. Bomoor imagined the man's hands running all over the fruit, "I brought my own lunch."
He patted at a pouch on his belt that, in fact, held two medpacs and several credit chips. He then turned his attention back to the conversation between his own master and Thane's master, Sotah.
"I hear GalactaWorks has been pretty devastating to this sector," Thurius noted, looking around at the dilapidated marketplace, "They have a hand in all trade in and out of the planet now. It's clearly taking its toll on local business. The only upside is that a percentage of Galactawork's profits feed back to the Republic."
Sotah did not seem reassured. "That does not justify this needless suffering," he lamented, looking at a young sandy-haired boy sat on a cushion by a stand, his body more bone than skin. "Slavery may be illegal in the Republic, this is hardly much better," he observed as they continued, throwing a couple of credit chips to the boy beforehand. He was certain to make sure both Thane and Bomoor were in earshot as he continued. "The way GalactaWerks continues - as they doubtless aim to be - they shall undermine every other business and small company this side of the Perlemian, forcing others to turn to them for work."
The sadness in the Selkath's voice was clear. Indeed, even his homeworld of Manaan, whilst not as popular as it was in generations past, as bacta superseded kolto as the primary medicinal chemical, remained a constant target for companies - namely GalactaWerks - who used the kolto as a cheap alternative to bacta, selling it to all manner of unsavoury figures and organisations. There had been rumours that GalactaWerks had poisoned some of the kolto supplies, though, following Manaan's declaration of support for ORA during the conflict.
"But what if they were not here, Master?" Thane then challenged, his voice making it clear he was more than likely playing devil's advocate, although he often struggled with both sides of the argument in such cases. It wasn't because he was trying to be difficult or was finding it hard to understand a concept. Instead, it was because he saw merit on both, and so then had difficulty in choosing the right one. Sotah, he found, tended to go for what would be viewed as the more moral of the two, even though he was capable of seeing the bigger picture.
"I mean," Thane went on, "if there wasn't a GalactaWerks presence here, what jobs would there be - who would be paying these people any money at all?"
Sotah gave a small huff of amusement, and his version of a smile slipped across his face. He was about to give a lengthy explanation when he then paused, and looked to Bomoor quickly. "What do you think?" He asked of the Ithorian, giving Thurius a brief knowing look.
Bomoor made a side-to-side motion with his trunk-like neck as if weighing up the sides, "It is a tricky situation. A Republic presence is needed to ward off any attempt to join the Alliance and GalactaWerks provides that service without depleting the resources the Republic has already stretched thin across many worlds. But that service comes at too great a cost. This planet has effectively been turned over to the corporation. A world should not be run as a business. It should be respected and its people with it."
He looked over to his master, who was giving him that plain look with his head slightly raised that suggested he should reel in his suggestion a bit, "But, the again, what else is to be done? Without some kind of overruling party, Onderon would either lapse into Civil War or reach out to the ORA."
The group passed through a large archway and the mucky market floor began to give way to a smoother stone pathway. The buildings were changing as well. Larger and sturdier structures began to rise up around them and, in the distance, the outline of Iziz Royal Palace began to appear.
"But the Outer Rim Alliance is a part of the Third Republic again, now," Thane then pointed out to his friend, almost matter-of-factly."
"And would it necessarily be such a bad thing to allow them to join it, if they so wish?" Sotah then suggested, following on from his Padawan's comment. "After all, part of the treaty following the conflict declared GalactaWerks could have no place in ORA worlds, even if the Alliance was now a province of the Repub-"
The Selkath was cut off by some exclamations that were being carried loudly along the warm breeze, a few other voices joining in, most of them sounding like soldiers trying to keep the peace. The source soon became clear, as they came across a large gathering of Onderonians and a variety of men, women and species garbed in the trademark orange and black uniforms of GalactaWerks and their Militia. The origin of the angry shouting was the man in the centre, standing on a pedestal barking angrily at the crowd.
Standing there, an expensive hunting rifle slung over the crook of one arm as he pointed angrily with the other, he looked like a game hunter, his braided cap flapping slightly as he continued his angry tirade. A few of his Militiamen pushed back some of the Onderonians at times when a few became brave, but most remained silent, and somewhat fearful, even.
"...and so who will come forward about this cowardly attack, hmm!?" He demanded in his loud but sophisticated and posh voice, wide eyes glaring at different Onderonians, as if each one was guilty of something. He gestured with his free arm at a spot nearby, where the remnants of a GalactaWerks hut sat, still smoking slightly from whatever minor explosive had detonated there. "A GalactaWerks official is currently being tended for second-degree burns!" The man went on. "Because one of your so-called Avalans - 'freedom fighters' - thought it prudent to do so. Is that how it works on this backwater dump of a planet? You cause second-grade technicians burn injuries and call it justice!? What's wrong with you people!?"
The GalactaWerks leader clearly did not notice the approaching Jedi as he continued to throw accusations both with his words and piercing gaze. "Well, if no one comes forward, we'll simply have to start taking in people off the streets, have a friendly little chat with them, hmm?" He leered at one woman before looking over to one of the Militiamen. "Sergeant Travia... begin with this one, and then work your way through the census - biggest families first."
The sergeant saluted and made his confirmation, pushing forward with one of his comrades and grasping the woman roughly at each arm, quickly taking her away. The other Militiamen shunted forward, dispersing the crowd as the leader smiled to himself, apparently pleased with the progress, stepping down from the pedestal. As he did so, he finally spotted the Jedi party.
He gave them all a warm grin, extending a warm hand to both of the Jedi Masters in turn, his voice now a pleasant turn on what it had been before. "Intendant Marius Thendleton," he greeted, bowing slightly, "at your esteemed service, Master Jedi. Apologies for that bout of unpleasantness, but it seems some of the locals have taken to bombing some of our fair establishments. A baffling and ghastly business, if you ask me. Of course, you are here to set that all right, are you not?"
Thane was already annoyed with the man and his clear ignorance for the people of Onderon and their situation; of his own duties as someone tasked with the revival of the weakened world and responsibilities to the Republic; of his unreasonable and unfounded sense of worth and dignity, despite having clearly never earned either. The hunting rifle still slung casually over one arm added insult to injury - a man probably more interested in hunting the very creatures he was here to bring into captivity to cultivate other damaged worlds.
The young Jedi Guardian did not make it obvious, though, as he kept his back straight and gave a slight bow, keeping a polite demeanour. This Marius Thendleton did not care for Onderon, and he probably did not care for GalactaWerks either, so long as his wage packet was thick and on-time. More than likely, he was also scraping a bit off from the side.
Sotah did not reply to Thendleton's question, artfully darting about it to politely introduce himself and the others. "Greetings, Intendant. Allow me to present Jedi Master Thurius; his Padawan, Bomoor Thort; my own apprentice, Thane; and myself - Sotah."
Each Jedi nodded as Sotah introduced them, but Thurius stood forward as Sotah finished the introductions, "Let us set some things straight to begin with, Intendant. We all appreciate the work you are doing here on behalf of the Republic, but we are not your employees," Thurius gave a glance at Sotah, hoping that his speech would satisfy his friend's concerns for now, "We will assist you in matters in accordance with the law but we have not come here to run errands for you."
Thendleton chuckled. He was not one to be upset by blunt words and he certainly didn't want to give a bad impression to the Jedi, "Right you are," he smiled, ruffling his shoulder again as though he were concerned that the presence of his rifle was not clear enough, "The law is exactly what we're trying to uphold out here, Master Jedi. I don't know if you caught my little speech but the so-called 'freedom-fighters' of the Avalan group are making a habit of destroying GalactaWerks' property. Shipments, transports and now our establishments are taking hits. This is not just bad business, it is criminal and these terrorists need to be taught a damned good lesson."
Bomoor leaned around to get a better look at the hut. The explosive must have been placed on the exterior as the damage was fairly minimal - part of a wall had fallen down and the blast had scorched only a small section of the interior. It was rather unlucky that a technician had been in the radius of the blast. Nonetheless, the act was clearly targeted at the corporate building and terrorism was a terrible crime in the Ithorian's mind. Targeting people's fears to create chaos and ruin.
"They aren't the only ones," Thane half-mumbled, just loudly enough for Thendleton to notice. In response, the other Human glared for a fleeting second at the Jedi apprentice, but decided against making an issue of it, given his apparent need for the group's support in this crisis of his.
Sotah placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, letting some of his calming Force influence wash over his Padawan, but he addressed Thendleton. "We are not so much here to teach a lesson to these individuals so much as simply discover who they are, and bring them to justice. With any luck, we will be able to discover the names of their compatriots, and perhaps find a peaceable solution. There is no need for any more violence on either side, of course. I imagine such a result would be in the interests of all parties - including GalactaWerks - wouldn't you say, Intendant?"
Thendleton shuffled his shoulders slightly, his upper lip rising for a moment before he dragged himself back into top-form composure. "Of course, Master Jedi," he said, giving them a winning smile, "that is always GalactaWerks' highest priority, but thank goodness not all of the galaxy thinks like you boys, eh?" He rocked forward on his heels slightly, waggling his eyebrows. "We'd lose far too much money in arms manufacturing! Ha-ha."
Thane's eyes narrowed. "I suppose war isn't too bad for your enterprises then, really?" He half-queried, half-stated. With a shrug, he added, "In a way, such a civil war out here might not be such a bad thing for you. There are enough such conflicts starting to brew this far from the Core - you could probably swindle some money out of them for your weapons. Maybe even both sides."
In response, the intendant simply gave Thane another of those glares before once again claiming the charming manner, smiling and ruffling the teenage Jedi's hair. "He's a sharp one, your apprentice. My compliments to you, Master Sotah - I'm sure he'll be quite the... asset during this little escapade. Anyway, I must be dashing off - there's a lot to be doing, but be sure to drop by the offices when you can, and keep me abridged of what you are doing!"
He shot off before anyone could make another comment to him. "In other words," Thane said, "he's off to use that rifle of his." He looked about the place, seeing that some of the Onderonians were looking their way, most suspiciously, given they were with the intendant. "He's not exactly given us much to go on, and we're kriffed if we're going to get even a peep out of the locals if they think we're working with GalactaWerks."
Sotah made a squelching humming sound inside his mouth, stroking one of his mouth tendrils in thought. "Perhaps not, my young Padawan." He looked to Thurius, an almost amused expression on his shiny blue facial features. "Maybe we should go visit Queen Omina and some of her Rift Jedi guests, hmm? There is, after all, more than one way to pull the ears off a gundark."
Thurius gave his old friend an eye but did not object, "I suppose it makes sense. We're not going to get much else here, as you say. But let us not get wrapped up in the political disputes, no matter what kind of case we hear from the Queen."
Bomoor shivered unconsciously, looking about at the locals and sensing the fear that was rooted amongst them, "Politics seems to have gone out of the window under GalactaWerk's thumb. They've got their hold here and they aren't giving it up before they bleed it dry. Perhaps you are right, Master Sotah. This place would be much better under ORA."
The group marched on and the palace grew closer and closer. It was a grand structure raised up above the main city and only accessible by a network of raised roads and walkways. It seemed to be impenetrable - a symbol of the Monarchy's power and defiance. But the snakes were already deep within the walls.
TBC
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