Another Way Forward

Posted on Sat Feb 17th, 2018 @ 8:02pm by Bomoor Thort & Morgo Le'Shaad

3,057 words; about a 15 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Armoury, Jericho
Timeline: After "Boxed in"

OLD

His muscles tensed, his vision sharpened, and his heart began beating faster and harder. He summoned the blade to his one good hand and paid little heed to Bomoor and Morgo, as he could feel his friend’s presence on the other side of the debris, just as he felt that void that was the Dromachean nestled beside the Ithorian. Torn only momentarily between using the Force to pull the debris away from his allies and pursuing Loren, he made the only decision he could, and made chase, even as his body screamed against Morgo’s drugs and the unnatural torment of the dark side fuelling it forward, ravaged as it had been by the Exiles’ whims.

The Jedi had to be stopped.

NEW

A lone emergency light swung suspended from a wire on the ceiling, having lost the sturdy surface it usually clung to. It desperately flashed its orange warning of a secure room breach while a dull alarm droned in the distance. Most of the durasteel panels that formed the ceiling of the armoury had collapsed downwards and were scattered amongst shattered weapons cases, dented lock-boxes and numerous Mandalorian Exile bodies. With an aching creak, another panel lost its battle with gravity and shot downwards but encountered resistance in the form of a faint but shimmering blue field of energy that formed a dome around a section of the floor. The unexpected force of the falling object caused the field to flicker but held firm long enough for the panel to slip down to the floor before disengaging.

In the centre of the now-dissipated field was the hunched-over form of Bomoor Thort, eyes clenched tight, forming several more folds around his wrinkled eyes than usual as the physical toll of the powerful Force ability caught up with his already-strained body. With the Protection Bubble gone, the outside air shot in, filling the Ithorian's large lungs with the scorched and smokey air that filled the room, which had resulted from the recent explosion that had practically torn the room in two.

But he did not want to open his eyes yet. As the Force crept back to him and slowly rejuvenated his senses, he experienced another deeply unsettling feeling; the tension that had been building between Thane and Loren was at boiling point and he could feel the desperation in both of them - a bitter clawing deep within them that made Bomoor grab his chest, unable to prevent the sensation flowing into him while he fed upon the Force energy in the room. All of a sudden, the feeling weakened and he was able to close his core off from the troubling influx.

Finally opening his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Morgo, whom he realised he had leapt upon instinctively when realising that she would be engulfed by the chain of explosions that had fractured the room. With his hulking form preventing the Dromachian from rising, she simply lay in a surprisingly relaxed posture giving him a look that made it plain that he had overstayed his welcome atop her. While he was certain she understood the rationale for jumping at her, knowing full well she had seen the protective energy shield the Consular had summoned from seemingly nothing, Morgo seemed to never miss an opportunity to make another being feel awkward. However, after Bomoor rolled his weight over and released her, she did seem genuinely appreciative of the protection, despite the position it put her in.

Not quite ready to stand himself, Bomoor rolled into a seated position, throwing his weary legs forwards, pushing away several pieces of debris as he spread his large mass out. He exhaled deeply as he looked about the room and saw the reason why the gripping feeling had released him: Loren and Thane had disappeared. Opening himself up again slightly, he sensed they were still near and were still gripped in struggle but both clearly alive. Feeling that tightening panic rolling in again, he intentionally shut out the connection and tried to focus on his immediate surroundings.

The Exile that had sent out the admittedly-spectacular shot to set off the explosions had undoubtedly hoped his flaming spectacle would send him and his foes into the next life for the glory of the True Mandalorians. Were he facing lesser opponents, he would most-likely have succeeded as there was little in the room that had survived; in the faint orange flash of the swinging emergency light the bodies littered about the room seemed to move still but Bomoor could sense that their lives had been extinguished. All except the first casualty of the group: the Mandalorian Bomoor had thrown against the wall before he could enter the fray.

Knowing Morgo had made her own assessment of the room and had noted the absence of their other companions, Bomoor addressed the Duchess, "Before you ask, I have no idea where Thane and Loren are heading," he coughed as his first words exited his dried-out throats. As he did so, he thought about his last sight of Thane, bending the Force to render one of the Mandalorian's bodies to his will, "I might know them well, but those two have always had an odd relationship. I have no idea how Loren reacted to seeing Thane fight like that. I myself don't know what to think..."

He rose from the ground, careful not to tear his hands on glass as he pushed himself up, "I am finding it difficult to focus on their whereabouts so I suggest we proceed as we intended: push forward to find that damned crystal shard and then get back to the Raptor as soon as we can."

Brighter lights found them as the pair edged their way out of the room, avoiding the giant split in the floor as well as the scattered objects in the room, and into the corridor once again. He stopped beside the Mandalorian he had knocked out. He was groaning and jutting his arm out to the floor in an attempt to push himself up. He was clearly still confused, his concussive state making him a danger to nobody but himself. Using a variation of the Jedi Mind Trick that worked particularly well on the befuddled or distracted mind, Bomoor waved his fingers before the man and sent his brainwaves back into an unconscious state. There was no need for this man to die, at least not while he lay here defenceless.

Looking at the now-still body, Bomoor noticed a stun baton clipped to the belt of his suit and was reminded of the ones used to bludgeon him when he first was captured in this place. The memory came with a flicker of anger, wondering if this man had been one of those who had taken that sickening pleasure in disabling him. Still, it did not matter to this moment so he let it pass, but not before unclipping and taking the metal baton for his own as he found himself once again unarmed, having lost his briefly-useful pike in the explosion.

Picking up on the hum of the station's core again, the Ithorian and Human quickly orientated themselves to the station's layout and set out along the corridor they agreed would take them to Zrad's makeshift throne room. Kaiburr Shard or no, their journey to the Red Raptor would take them past this central hall anyway so it was not so much fate, but rather architectural design that led them towards their showdown with the Exile King.

There may have yet been some pockets of Ysalamiri influence as Bomoor found it difficult to focus his Force-aided senses forward towards his destination. However, he began to get the feeling that there were even more Force-users present ahead. His first troubled thoughts were of more Jedi Shadows, sent out by the Reborn Council to correct their mistake of sending Thane and Bomoor on their journey. However, the presence was far more overt and darker than those of the Shadow sub-order of the Jedi. No, these were almost certainly Dark-siders and, with the Kaiburr shard in the mix, it was a fair assumption it was the Cult of Axion that lay before them.

Bomoor was also well aware of his travelling companion who, with the Force now returning, seemed to resist the probing Force of his mind with her usual void. He now appreciated the difference between the loss of the Force he had experienced from the Ysalamiri and the absence that he observed in Morgo. There was no collapse in his field of influence but his powers simply drifted through the woman; presumably her very cells refusing the call of the Living Force and, thus, preventing any other being from forming that natural connection that flowed through almost every living cell. An extremely useful ability if one were able to turn it on and off at will but quite the curse, Bomoor felt, to be stuck in the "off position".

She walked along, however, with great purpose: a woman who carved her own path and did not allow the Living Force to pull her this way and that, like a great chain. Bomoor again wondered what purpose had brought her to their rescue; even Berry's strange charm was not enough to influence the Dromachian beyond humouring the young woman for her own amusement. He doubted it was the Velusian's moral concerns that had convinced Morgo to risk her life for the conflicted Jedi pair. While it had become quite clear that there was no hidden, warm side to the renounced scholar, there were certainly deeper drives that went beyond Bomoor's unfortunately limited understanding of the woman.

Morgo suddenly stopped and gestured towards a large doorway with her head, sending several of the golden strands of hair swinging out from the tight bun Morgo had been maintaining during her expedition into Jericho's depths. Following her gesture with his dark eyes, Bomoor realised that they had reached one of their objectives. While his head had been covered upon his first trip through them, he immediately knew the doorway was the entrance to Zrad's throne room.

"Okay," Bomoor nodded back, suddenly having to cobble together a plan for what they would do now they had made it, "I can sense many people fighting in there. I think several members of Axion's Cult are here and we already know that Grogga has sent mercenaries here who are undoubtedly clashing with the Dark Jedi that destroyed their master's palace on Nar Shadda. Whether or not Zrad intended them to fight, he and his fellows are clearly a part of the conflict as well."

He tilted his head and rubbed his hump, feeling the raised and rough sensation of scars graze his hand, "If I were a stealthy Shadow like Loren, this would be a lot easier, but I can attempt to hide myself in the confusion and find the Kaiburr shard. If, by some great miracle of the Force, I am successful, it will be even harder to conceal myself with the shard in hand."

Morgo seemed to have a moment of inspiration and quickly retrieved the tiniest of holoprojectors from within her hair bun. Placing it in her palm and tapping flicking the minuscule switch on the side with her other hand, the familiar blue light of holographic technology sprung forth, briefly showing a unfamiliar company logo and then transitioning into a three dimensional representation of the Jericho station. It was an old schematic but suitable for their purposes. Moving her hand through the projection to find a dial, Morgo manipulated the image to focus upon the area where they currently stood.

Studying the diagram, Bomoor noticed a smaller room at the rear of the ex-mess hall, which was a secure control room. Given many of Jericho's central systems would be accessible from the room, it would likely still be a room of some use to Zrad but, most-importantly, there was a secondary entrance to the control room from the rear corridor. Unless the entrance had been removed, it was the perfect way to infiltrate the main hall unnoticed and perhaps even adjust some of the station's controls in their favour.

"I see it," The Ithorian gestured towards the room, knowing full-well that was where Morgo had intended his gaze to fall, "There's my way in."

He then looked up at his companion, her pale skin now a faint blue from the projection's light, "While we could never have gotten to this point without you, I trust you agree that this is probably where we should part," the projection shimmered off and he continued, "The ship has been left in Beríá's hands long enough; she may even be in trouble and I am sure that a hasty get-away would go much smoother if you readied the ship for our arrival."

He reached out and took her still-outstretched wrist, not in an aggressive manner, but to convey the seriousness of his next words, "And you must be prepared for the eventuality that myself or any of the others may not return. You have already saved us from a death in those cells and for that you have my ever-lasting thanks. If I die in there, then it will be a good death and the Force will be with me in my last moments. If there is a threat to your own escape, then do not hesitate to leave."

As soon as he had finished speaking, Morgo wrenched her hand away, shooting him another glare of annoyance but he also know it meant she understood what was at stake. Whether she chose to follow his advice to leave or not, she would return to the ship and increase the chances of at least some of their rag-tag group making it away with their lives. She raised the corner of her mouth in what was almost a smirk as she turned to leave, only breaking eye contact at the final moment, then swiftly strode away, past the large doors and back towards the hanger bays.

Not wasting a moment, Bomoor shot along the other corridor that surrounded the grand hall, speeding up his movements as he often did with the power of the Force. His abilities were coming more-naturally now and his bodily pains, while present, were held at bay by the mild healing aura he was maintaining. The corridor was long and he realised how large Zrad's chosen throne room really was. Even at his increased speed and with his great strides, it seemed to take a while before he rounded the corner and found the entrance to the control room.

While Zrad had taken the precaution of barring this important entrance, the door was still there, only prevented from swinging open by a bar of metal, crudely drilled into the wall across the doorway on the other side, which Bomoor could see through the reinforced glass of the door. He could see little else in the room as the lights were off. It was fairly easy to perceive the weakest point of the door frame for Bomoor but he was reminded of the concept of shatterpoints he had learned about from the Temple Archives: weak points not only in physical matter but also within the fabric of space and time itself. Working with such shatterpoints was an impressive feat combining both Force Sense and Force Alter abilities but one for another time. Right now, all it took was one great kick from his powerful legs to rip the bolts from the walls and shoot the door inwards.

Much like the armoury, this room was also alarmed and his violent entrance triggered the same flashing orange light to activate and an alarm to sound. While someone would eventually notice, he hoped the confusion in the next room would delay the discovery long enough for him to get through.

The control room was larger than he had expected and, although many large panels and controls surrounded a central chair, it appeared that Zrad had used the empty area hugging the wall of the room to display various trophies, weapons and other personally-important objects. Bomoor wondered if he would find his lightsaber among the trophies but it was actually something else that caught is attention. While the orange light of the alarm glistened against his deep black eyes, it was a deeper red glow that drew him to a stand towards the back of the room, almost directly behind the control chair. Bomoor immediately knew what he had found: it was the Kaiburr shard.

Broken pieces of some other ornament has been spread around it making it look as though the enticing red crystal had hatched forth from it with a will of its own. The stand the shard was in was clearly not designed for it and probably used to support the now broken ornament that was littered around it. The shard leaned to one side but still looked impressive, making Bomoor wonder what design the original crystal once had before it was shattered. He reached out, feeling the emanating power tingle his fingertips and he felt as though it began to glow brighter, although it may have been the intermittent orange light.

Grasping it in his hand, Bomoor felt his senses explode; the dimly illuminated room seemed to have a light penetrating in every corner and crack. He could even glimpse into the next room and feel each being as they darted about, either escaping death or succumbing to it. His healing aura magnified tenfold and he felt himself rising higher as the weight of his body became immaterial. He looked down at the shard, realising the potential it held in his hands. He passed it across to his other hand and felt his balance shift every so slightly as his left side became the source of this power. With his now free right hand, he unclipped his new stun baton from his poorly fitting trousers and pressed the activation switch. It coursed with its own power as the end became charged with rippling blue energy.

With his left hand glowing with crimson red and his left with electric blue, the Jedi looked towards the second doorway that led towards his destined battleground. He had never felt more ready to face his destiny.

TBC

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