The Avalan Crisis: Less than Regal
Posted on Sun Feb 8th, 2015 @ 11:27pm by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Theon
Edited on on Wed Jun 8th, 2022 @ 2:00pm
4,177 words; about a 21 minute read
Chapter:
Additional Stories
Location: Onderon
Timeline: 1,208 ABY, After "Captured" & "Unlikely Allies"
OLD
The Cerean shuffled slightly in his captors' grasps, which led only to a tighter grip, "Argh!" Thurius winced, "Given that you see us as goods to be bargained, can I assume you are merely the delivery men? Someone else does not want to get their hands dirty."
"Better to be the delivery men than the merchandise," chuckled the warrior as Thurius was bundled past him, he then pointed towards Sazar and Sotah, "Now, what about these two?"
"'These two'," Sotah responded with a practised ease of calm, "submit also." Sazar, whilst also nodding, had barely a modicum of calm as two of their captors came forth to collect the two lightsaber hilts resting upon the ground. As yet another came forward to apply restraints to the three Jedi's wrists, the Selkath asked, "Will it be a long journey to wherever you may be taking us?"
At that, the bald man - not only incensed by his 'victory' over his opponents, but clearly pleased with the question - revealed a set of smiling darkened teeth. "Not for you," he said. But before any of the captives could reply, a series of small metal objects buried themselves into the trio and it was just a few seconds before they found themselves falling the dirt, the world growing dark.
NEW
Another instalment of The Avalan Crisis posts, chronicling the young Padawans, Thane and Bomoor Thort.
The Regal Hotel was a grand example of Onderonian architecture. Built along a parade of grand old buildings, the hotel was the most resplendent of them all. Its entrance was raised above the street with flowing cream steps down to the roadside and a balcony above it that sheltered the ornate wooden door from the elements. A row of pillars supported a string of further balconies along the front of the building and sitting atop each one were old glass double doors with ageing white frames. The name “REGAL HOTEL” was carved in a bold font onto the white stone of the centre balcony.
The street itself was old and narrow. Modifications had been made with time to allow for larger vehicles to reach the buildings which meant that the pedestrian strip has been reduced to its bare minimum. However, the current political and financial climate of the planet meant that almost nobody travelled by speeder or other motor vehicle these days, which meant that people were dotted all along the road beside the hotel. There was, however, one vehicle parked in the bay right at the foot of The Regal’s steps. It was a rough but elegant landcruiser – a vehicle as easily suited to polished streets as to rougher terrain. It was an old patrol vehicle, used to tread the wilderness surrounding Iziz. It had recently come under the new ownership of GalactaWerks as Marius Thendleton’s personal vehicle for patrolling Iziz’ streets.
The Intendant maintained a suite on the top-floor of the three-storey Regal which was his primary residence on Iziz. A residence usually reserved for the planet’s royalty, Thendleton’s suite shared the magnificent design of the building’s exterior but had been outfitted and maintained to the highest degree of refinement and comfort. An exceptionally-large fireplace was the heart of the central room with enough lounge chairs and sofas to host a sizeable get-together, a splendid walk-out balcony overlooking the ornate entrance plaza. The bedroom hosted a four-poster bed, carved out of thick red wood from the wilderness and made up each day with fine off-world cloth. Thendleton had made the suite his own too with various trophies, weapons and ornaments adorning the mantelpiece and walls. He had even spread out a Nexu-skin rug before the hearth of the fireplace.
Thendleton had just arrived at the hotel and was talking to the manager, who had rushed out to greet the Intendant as he always did. The intendant chatted with the man as he removed his driving gloves and locked down the vehicle. This was still going on when the group of Jedi Padawans entered the street.
“That’s The Regal Hotel there,” Theon pointed halfway down the street as the group swiftly paced forwards, “In fact, that’s Thendleton’s vehicle outside.”
Bomoor’s body did not allow him to naturally maintain the same pace as his two companions and he had to draw moderately on the force to keep his thick legs moving at the same speed. This led to some surprised glances from observers watching the unnaturally swift movement of his lower body.
“We do not know much about this attack,” the Ithorian spoke between deep breaths, “But the hotel would appear to be the site of ambush so we should first warn Thendleton and clear the building.”
Theon looked back at Bomoor with frustration, “We’re going to struggle to find our terrorists though. This area is still relatively busy owing to its proximity to the marketplace and the spaceport. Anyone with half a brain cell will simply slip into the crowd.”
There was indeed a large congregation outside the hotel. Some younger people seemed curious to see the vehicle while others gathered to throw insults at the GalactaWerks members.
Bomoor tried to counter Theon’s negativity, “But so long as they have half a midi-chlorian, we may get lucky and sense some increased emotion in our assassins.”
At his friend's comment, Thane was unable to hold back a small smirk. It was not often that he found Bomoor to be overly argumentative or confrontational, but he had a dry wit that Thane had long come to appreciate, admire and enjoy. Whilst he viewed themselves as equals, Bomoor's slightly advanced age nevertheless left him somewhat a role model in some senses, and especially in matters of diplomacy - or wit.
However, pausing with his fellows to look over the scenes playing out before them, something amiss washed over him, a feeling distant but nevertheless vaguely present and tugging at his consciousness, almost as if he had forgotten something. Gazing with disdain at the way Thendleton was waving his arms about verbosely as he engaged the manager in a conversation he was clearly more engaged in than his audience, the Padawan assumed for the moment it was simply his displeasure at seeing the GalactaWerks intendant once again so soon.
Such feelings came and passed on a regular basis, and as much as he did his utmost to keep firm control over his emotions whilst trusting some of his instinctive judgements and concerns, Thane often deduced much of it was born of his age and introversion, over-thinking the mundane. Whilst firm in his thoughts on subjects such as Onderon, GalactaWerks and Thendleton, he nevertheless found it hard to trust in his feelings; to trust in the Force as Master Sotah and Bomoor would advise him.
Letting his hand brush past the shining hilt at his hip, Thane began to feel more grounded and in the moment, the typically peculiar feeling slipping by as he focused what they were here to do. "We should be wary of simply warning Thendleton," he said, confidence seeping into his voice as his eyes shifted from the intendant to his allies. "At least, we should perhaps not tell him straight away; we could take the opportunity to draw out the would-be assassins. If we storm up to them, declaring there is going to be an attempt on his life, I don't think it will change much."
Thane gestured to the various GalactaWerks Militiamen standing around the hotel, each heavily armed and scrutinising everything that moved. "We should attempt to apprehend whoever is responsible, take them in and see what we can learn. Otherwise, we might ruin whatever hope we have of questioning them, or could even make them panic." A bark of uncouth laughter came from the intendant as he was seen to pat the manager heavily on the back, no doubt laughing at his own joke. Thane grimaced, but continued. "We don't need to have any accidents involving the public - but using Thendleton as bait?" He shrugged. "I think it might be worth it. The hotel must be devoid of any true patrons. We could save him before anything happens."
Theon smirked, "A good idea, I think. Thendleton would have no qualms with using any of us in his schemes. As you say, there are no civilians residing in the building. It has been commandeered entirely by Galactascum."
The Rift Jedi apprentice edged closer to the Intendant's vehicle and relaxed his pose, "With three of us, we will undoubtedly sense as soon as intervention is necessary," he crossed his arms, "If there is indeed any threat at all. Did we ever stop to question the validity of that noble's information?"
Bomoor tightened the muscles in his face, accentuating the many natural creases around his eyes and head. Theon's unrefined approach to his duties was perhaps a result of learning outside the order but it did not sit well with the methods he had come to respect. "There is merit in letting events unfold but it is a dangerous game to play when people's lives are in jeopardy. We do not have the right to use them for pawns as one might in dejarik."
He turned to Thane, "And can we truly be sure that there are no innocents inside? If we care not for the officers, then what of the hotel staff?"
It had always been in Bomoor's nature to see a certain sanctity in life; coming, as he did, from a peaceful people. As he learnt of the force beside his master and the other fonts of knowledge at the Jedi temple, he come to see that all life was given through the Force. It was not that he respected everyone's right to life (in fact, there were many rotten individuals he would never have granted life were it in his power), but he saw that no sentient had the right to decide when another should die. It was only through the will of the Force that a life should be taken back as it was given to start with. To make such a choice seemed to be a violation of the Force.
"No," he decided plainly, "We must clear that building first. That is our duty over finding the-"
A ripple in the Force stopped him. A sudden spike of panic from within the hotel.
In unison, Thane's own thoughts were interrupted and his eyes locked on the same area as Bomoor's, the origin of the disturbance indisputable. Instinctively, the young Caanan summoned his saber to his hand, the brilliant blue blade zipping to life with the trademark snap-hiss.
It was for but the briefest of moments that the sudden reveal of the Jedi weapon held the attention of some Onderonian denizens, as no sooner had the hilt found itself gripped firmly in the Jedi Padawan's hands than the semblance of order and civility that had held sway over this less turbulent area threatened to quickly evaporate, if the tapestry being unfurled upon the Force users was of any indication.
Alerted to the sudden danger just a short distance away, no words needed to be uttered between the trio, as even Theon fell in alongside them as they immediately called upon their natural talents to expedite their charge towards the hotel. Facing away from the sight of the armed and rapidly moving Jedi, Intendant Thendleton, who had begun to make his way up the cream steps into the hotel, seemed even vaguely disinterested when the manager, just a few steps ahead of him, had turned and pointed to the advancing party.
Appearing to mutter something with some disdain at sighting them, he narrowed his eyes when Thane began to shout, "Clear the buil-" But both his words and Thendleton's interest were entirely cut off by the resounding blast from several feet above where he stood. Emanating from the third story balcony of the intendant's own suite, a thundering fist of fire erupted outwards, immediately obliterating the balcony and sending the intendant, all those nearby and the Jedi hurtling backwards.
Immediately, a huge bite had been taken out of the front of the Regal, replaced instead by charred or still-burning rubble. Shattered glass and masonry rained down upon the plaza and its inhabitants, the sky now tainted thick with black smoke and rising embers, as rags of flame tugged away at the remnants of the hotel's entrance. Collapsed and collapsing pillars let more of the structure fall away, a hellish comparison to its so recent ornate beauty.
After that first great shockwave of sound and physical force, all sound appeared to dissipate, instead, Thane noted, replaced by an eerie silence punctuated only by a constant, high-pitched ringing. Close enough to be caught in the initial blast but not enough to suffer burns or severe wounds, he had been thrown at speed into the side of the intendant's vehicle, not quick enough to call upon the Force to greatly soften the blow or angle his trajectory so as to avoid the abject pain now coursing through his back.
His Jedi senses more alert than his physical ones, both those and the shock of the moment lent themselves to providing an obscure perception of slowed time, which was only further compounded by the apparent lack of perceivable real sound for the beleaguered Padawan, although he took some comfort at discovering the familiar presence of a still-living Bomoor nearby. He could see figures shifting about the plaza and hotel entrance, darting either to safety or to assist the injured, their faces contorted in extreme emotions and their mouths forming silent shouts of desperation or commands.
Thinking to shift himself quickly, spurred on by the few bodies littered about the vicinity and the ongoing and very present crisis, Thane thrust out his hand to grasp his lightsaber, only to have his efforts rewarded with palm full of grit and a sharp pain lancing up arm. In the chaos of the moment, the blood seeping from the shrapnel wound at the top of his right shoulder seemed cold, but that concern was quickly swept aside as he sighted Thendleton limping away from the entrance's crumbling archway, merely favouring a small scratch on one cheek.
Attempting to call his friend's name, Thane - at not hearing his own words - reached out to the Ithorian both physically and through the Force, his unsteady head and blurred eyesight doing little to assist in his fumbling search.
Thane's arm hovered just short of Bomoor's side as he lay against the cracked pavement. Like his fellow padawan, his body was shaken and bruised but his connection to the Force was unwavering. Through it, he felt Thane reaching out and drew himself up, wincing as he discovered that he had lost several layers of his thick skin on his right-hand side when he was thrust along the ground. Patches that were once a dry brown grew crimson as blood wept out and onto his Jedi robes.
He looked to Thane and saw that he clutched a wounded arm as he lay against the landcruiser. Bomoor moved himself to his friend's side and knelt down to examine the fragments piercing the more-tender human flesh. Sounds began to return and the dull shouts began to form words once again, "Hold still Thane," Bomoor hollered, louder than he had intended, "Let me see that wound."
Bomoor had taken lessons from the Jedi Order's head Sage, Master Olus, through which he had learned how to best use the Force to not only revitalise the self but also how to channel this into others. However, this alone was often not enough to treat all wounds, particularly for those who had not yet mastered this form of healing. Olus, therefore, also taught conventional medical techniques to her pupils.
The wound was mostly littered with shallow grit but a small metal fragment had burrowed deeper. Bomoor reached into the pack on his belt and produced a medpack, "Here," he spoke as he lightly jabbed the bacta-infuser into clean flesh beside the wound, "This should ease some of the pain but you will feel a sharp sting as I take out this debris."
Whilst sound had returned for the lumbering Ithorian, the whining had weakened little for the Human Jedi, only giving way slightly to the stereo tones of his friend's voice. Of course, common sense made clear to him Bomoor's intentions. Nodding, a strand of loose brown hair fell over his eyes, causing him to blink quickly for a moment.
Using an outstretched hand to apply gentle pressure from the Force, Bomoor reached out and coaxed the metal out from Thane's shoulder. No major blood vessels were pierced but the vacuum left by the object's removal drew deep crimson blood. As soon as the debris was out, Bomoor tore a clean section of his robe and pressed it to the wound. As he applied pressure, he looked about the street to see with his eyes the pain he could feel through the Force. His eyes were drawn to Theon nearby who had propped himself up against a post and holding his head with his free hand. The young Rift Jedi had a fear within him and his gaze was fixed on the remains of the hotel's second floor.
"Keep this cloth held to your head," Bomoor turned back to Thane, "We will remove the smaller fragments later. I should check on Theon."
However, before he could turn back, Theon shot past him towards the steps of the hotel. He brushed Thendleton on his path, sending the Intendant off balance and leaving him cursing at the Rift Knight. Theon ignored him and continued up and into the still-smoking building.
Bomoor watched him, unmoving, until he disappeared from sight. Knowing there was little he could do with all the confusion, he looked to Thane once again, "Never mind. How is the pain? Do you think you can get up?"
Although not perfect, the ringing that still dully pressed against Thane's aching brain had cleared enough for him to now hear Bomoor's words. Whilst much of the pain had slipped away, his friend's Force techniques and the small injection of bacta working harmoniously to alleviate most of his discomfort, his right arm was nevertheless stiff.
Flexing his right hand and rolling his shoulder, Thane then silently nodded to his friend and clasped the arm proferred to him, his pale but dirtied hand gripping the leathery hide as he pulled himself to his feet, only wobbling slightly as he surveyed his surroundings.
Even from here, he could feel the heat emanating from the building and more of the structure within could be heard to be crumbling. Whilst the screams had subsided, it had been replaced with sobbing and the shouting of authorities rallying to assist the citizens and, presumably, detain whoever they believed to be responsible. Knowing suspicion would fall on them as outsiders, Thane decided it best they move quickly.
Reaching out with the Force to focus upon his surroundings with more precision - a process that typically required more focus for Thane than his Consular comrade - he was interrupted by a sudden rush of anguish that dragged his mind to the fore again. Whilst all about them sadness, anger and fear was aplenty, this single entity dwarfed the rest, a presence that was indeed teetering on the edge of what Thane could only compare to chaos.
Reflexively, he gritted his teeth as the sensation washed over him. There was almost a purity to what he was feeling, intoxicating yet thorough disturbing. There had been moments like this before, and recalling his training and the matter at hand, he closed his mind to it and turned to look to Bomoor, realisation dawning on him. "Theon," he stated, perhaps more sternly than he meant to.
"I sense that he is in great pain indeed," Bomoor clenched his eyes shut and tilted his head to one side, "But his body is no more harmed than before. He has inevitably found what only he could sense before. Something personal."
With a deep intake of breath, the consular shot back to the situation. He put an arm on Thane's back, being careful to avoid the wound, "He will return. For now, let us make our presence here worthwhile. Perhaps you should make our purpose here known to Thendleton and see if that splinter of his needs looking at. I will seek out those in most need; perhaps work on extending the healing aura over a wider area."
"Wonderful," Thane responded dryly, his comment masking the ongoing strife the surge of emotion flowing from Theon had caused within him.
With a few quick glances about, Bomoor identified a huddle of people around an injured old woman and set off towards them.
Letting his eyes follow the Ithorian for a few seconds, Thane felt yet another shift in the Force, although this was much more subdued, almost incomprehensible against the vibrancy of Theon's outburst, as well as being far more fleeting, to the extent that the padawan let the consideration slip away. Whilst Master Sotah always counselled focus upon the intricacies and subtleties of the flowing force, he was also sage in his advice to not let it be at the expense of the present.
For Thane, pushing past a faint wisp detected in the Force was of little difficulty, particularly in light of the circumstances confronting them now. With a quick but thorough visual search of the nearby area, he located where his lightsaber had clattered away, summoning it to his offhand as he stepped warily over to where Marius Thendleton had begun to gather himself together.
"Ah, the young Jedi," the intendant greeted him wryly, his voice a mixture of disdain and aloof humour, brushing his uniform down casually, as though he had been merely knocked over as opposed to nearly obliterated by saboteur's devastating explosives. "Doing a marvellous job of protecting the local wildlife, I see. Oof!" Thendleton exclaimed as his fingers brushed across the small scratch on his face, the only indication that he had been in any sort of altercation. Looking at the blood upon his fingers, his eyes widened and his tone adopted more of the maddened and panicked menace Thane had initially expected from the GalactaWerks intendant.
"This is outrageous!" He declared angrily to Thane before the younger Human could muster any irate words in response to Thendleton's own. "These rebel scum have completely devastated my residence and marred my visage! The sheer audacity of these creatures simply cannot be tolerated. The time for patience is over! We must gather the Militia and begin a house-to-house search, never resting, never-"
"You aren't hurt," Thane interjected, his voice stern but calm but words heavy with disdain, an affectation that was made only more apparent as his eyes drifted down towards the crumpled body of the hotel manager nearby, blood seeping the head atop his lifeless corpse.
Thendleton huffed, seemingly oblivious to the dead body just yards away. "No thanks to you or that lumbering beast you've been traipsing about with. You have been of no assistance since you arrived," he continued ranting, the ire in his voice rising (which in turn only served to frustrate Thane further). "What were they thinking, sending boys to do men's work? Pacifists to do a warrior's job? This is no place for-"
The intendant stopped his words short, his angry gaze shifting immediately from Thane to the stairs leading down from the hotel's crumbling entrance. Opening and closing his mouth for a few moments, lips quivering with anger as no words came flowing forth, he finally managed to thrust an accusative finger at the figure descending. "You!" He shouted, thrusting his finger once again to make his pointer clearer, voice raised so as to gain as many people's attentions as possible. "You did this! Traitor!"
Slowly emerging from the haze was the dirty figure of Theon carrying a charred and battered body in his arms. The entirety of the padawan's body was blackened with in a fine layer of soot save for two pure streaks below his eyes, wiped away by a steady flow of tears. His eyes did not look down to face Thendleton's accusation. They never wavered from dead ahead as if they had been fixed to the default position and unable to focus anywhere else. With a straight back, straining under the weight of his load, he walked down the tarnished steps that had been a glistening cream colour mere minutes ago.
As he drew closer to the group waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the body he was carrying became identifiable. With short horns protruding from the skull, the humanoid was some form of Zabrak, but the mechanical hand drooping down on one side confirmed the identity of the body.
It was the corpse of Rift Jedi Sazar.
TBC
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