Grate Expectations
Posted on Sat Dec 7th, 2019 @ 11:38pm by Thane & Rusasha Djehuti-Lahan
4,120 words; about a 21 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter VI: The Last Bastion
Location: Back of the Cain-Arch, Vlaand, Caanus
Timeline: Nighttime, day after "The Dig"
OLD
"Haschel... Haschel hero?" He queried, dumbfounded, his paw resting where Rusasha's gentle kiss had stolen some of his facial whiskers. "Haschel-hero!" The urchin then declared, a little spring launching him a few inches off of the ground. "Haschel has never been a hero before. Already, Haschel is already like his new pretty kitty friend, helping those in need!"
It was at that moment that the little sentient seemed to remember why they had come to this place at all, and he hurriedly scooped up the bulk of his meagre possessions, although he forced a few odds and ends into the various pockets and pouches adorning Ru, even though she did not give any sign of consent. "Come, come!" He then said, and he grabbed Ru's paw as he had earlier in the day, already dragging away from his destroyed former home, no longer seeming to give any care to the crumpled abode. He was now, after all, a hero - and crushed apartment buildings frequented by vagrants were no place for heroes. No, no.
Haschel the Hero had a Jedi's quest on which to embark.
NEW
Once more, purple skies loosed thick precipitation upon those marching across the surface of Caanus. Overhead, shining brightly but largely subsumed by thick rainclouds since the recent setting of the sun Thaal, were the planet’s fabled twin moons, against a backdrop of barely-visible stars. Thunder boomed distantly, the echoic sound carried across the nearby plains and valleys that surrounded the capital city. Overhead and looming large, the great mountain on which the ruling family maintained their citadel seemed even more daunting as lightning forked about it, brief flashes illuminating its crags and jagged formations.
Far below, hoods raised and pulled tightly to protect their furry faces from the weather’s onslaught, was Rusasha and her Ranat guide and companion, Haschel. Gathered rain dripped from his thick whiskers (what few remained him), as his clawed feet moved rapidly across the ancient stone beneath them. He had guided the Jedi Consular down cobbled paths and through darkened alleyways, before finally taking them around the city perimeter to a peculiar gap in a large segment of the side of the mountain. It was, as Haschel promised, what passed for a back entrance into the Cain-Arch, which had a sizeable portion of its structure embedded into the mountain it served as the gateway protector to.
A day-and-a-half had passed since Rusasha had been within the Cain-Arch’s confines last, shorter though that was, courtesy of the fewer hours that typified a Caanan day. During that time, Haschel had kept good on his pledge to take his new friend to safety. After a bountiful meal with his friend, the Ranat had secured a room in the back of the establishment in which Ru could sleep off her injuries and the day’s ordeals. Even so, and regardless of Ru’s desire or need for more food, Haschel had disturbed her every hour, on the hour, with new plates and bowls filled with what passed for Caanan cuisine. He had brought numerous roasted meats laden with rich dark fruits and jus, various oven-baked pastries, both sweet and savoury, before resorting to the few off-world snacks and delights he could scavenge, gleefully spending some of the money Ru had hard-earned back for him at the collapsed apartment block.
When Ru had finally become too tired and prepared herself to finally properly sleep, Haschel had declared he would stand guard at her door, taking his new ‘hero’ persona particularly seriously. This had all but lasted little more than a half-hour, by which point the Ranat had curled up on the floor by the door, gentling snoring in such a rhythmic way, it was almost soothing to the Cathar. In the end, the pair had slept until midday the next day, properly rejuvenated. Haschel did, however, maintain the fallacy that he had kept guard the entire night, only “resting his eyes” very occasionally.
“Will lead into depths of the castle!” He chattered happily, pointing at the heavy metal bars that sealed the wide metal-and-concrete portal built into the side of the mountain. Whilst no light could be seen at this distance, the obvious sewage aroma coming from the thin trickle of water pouring out between the bars was telling enough. “Haschel went through before, when old rusty bars were still there and Haschel could gnaw through. Leads past dungeons and barracks… and pantry!”
Ru nodded and sighed knowing that she had arrived at the point of no return, and that this was where it was time to part ways. She knelt in front of Haschel and threw her arms around him, embracing him tight as if he were family. Of all the poor and homeless she met and helped over the years, this Ranat gave her the most to be hopeful for. Feeling the good in him made it all the more difficult to hold back the tears.
"Thank you, my friend," she said to him in the embrace. "I go from here on my own." She released him, and added with both paws on his shoulders and a deep look of concern on her face, "Whatever happens in there, don't look back. I'll be fine. Find a new home and embrace the goodness in your heart. Please take good care of yourself dear Haschel. I'll never forget you."
Haschel locked the kind Jedi's eyes with his own, which glistened with freshly-forming tears, giving the somewhat mangy Ranat a younger and more innocent appearance. For a moment, he seemed ready to argue with Rusasha, seemingly determined to convince her otherwise and to insist upon accompanying her. However, instead, he rested both of his dirtied clawed paws upon the Jedi's. Turning his expression downwards, he let out a little sniffle.
"Haschel understands," he said sadly, before looking back up to his new friend. "Haschel will always be Haschel the Hero to pretty kitty. Haschel will always be pretty kitty's friend."
The young Cathar rose to her feet and nodded one last time to her friend with a gentle smile before turning to face her destiny. A sharp jagged bolt of blinding lightning cut a deadly electric swath across the sky over the Cain-Arch as Rusasha put a paw up to her chest at the collar bone level and closed her eyes as she strode towards the blocked secret entrance to the grandiose Vuul residence. Remembering her training as a Jedi Shadow, she pushed all surface level thoughts aside and focused on her mother, Masters Sotah and Loren, and her new friend Haschel; faces that made her feel calm, appreciated, and loved. She could sense all the deep emotions she felt over the last few days seem to melt away as serenity took shelter in her heart, but she knew in truth that the feelings never really went away; they were simply compartmentalized and would have to be dealt with later.
Planting her feet in front of and to the side of the metal bars, she kept her eyes closed, raised up both paws, extended her senses and powers outward, and could actually "feel" the bars resist and shudder ever so slightly. Her open paws then slowly became clenched fists as she tensed the muscles in her arms and waited for a few seconds. In the very instant she sensed another strike of lightning, she, in one heavy motion, drew back and threw aside the bars, the noise almost perfectly masked with the instant the sound of the booming thunderclap dominated the area.
Ru switched her breathing to her mouth to avoid passing out from the terrible sewer stench, and, much to Haschel's surprise, seemingly vanished into thin air as Ru snuck inside.
Wonder-struck, Haschel rubbed away at his crusty eyes in brief disbelief at what he had seen, amazed by the vanishing trick performed by his feline benefactor. Then, after a few more pining seconds in which he gazed after where she had just been, he let out a little yip of victory, leaping and somersaulting in the air.
Although she had her own adventure to complete, Haschel the Hero turned on his tail, fell upon all fours, and scuttered away back towards the city's depths once more, determined to spread the charity and goodwill of his magical friend, finally finding his purpose.
It might mean a few nobles were lighter of pocket, but Haschel would make sure the vagrants of Vlaand would never go without again!
The Cain-Arch was an old structure, its name belying the fact that it was built far into the base of the ancient mountainside itself. The actual Arch was but one section of the Vuul family keep that was publicly on display to the denizens of Vlaand, heralding and guarding the path up to the mighty Vaarthul citadel, whilst its various tunnels and rooms spread far into the mountain, upwards, downwards and outwards. The highest sections, exposed and visible to the outside world, were inhabited by Haavan Vuul and his nobler staff themselves, whilst the barracks, pantries and less savoury chambers were situated further down, within the deeper recesses and catacombs that reached far and wide.
Built by the ancestors of the ruling House of Verus during the Old Sith Wars to protect their own summit fortress atop the mountain and to provide Vlaand with a more localised source of lordly support, it was only passed to the middling House of Vuul in subsequent centuries, who had served as Stewards of the Arch quite ably into the age of the Third Republic. Some of the Vuul lords, sometimes with and sometimes without the supervision of their Verus benefactors, had developed the Cain-Arch's sprawling underground network further and wider than previous generations, with many of the tunnels reaching the various canals and waterways of the royal city, and had installed numerous layers and amenities that were not wholly known or documented to all vassal lords.
The path by which Rusasha, Jedi Knight had entered, for instance, was one of the older additions to the keep's design: it was one of the sewage run-offs that led away from some of the original and less-savoury elements of the Cain-Arch. Having walked through a few winding tunnels, almost crunching the bones of some local deceased vermin underfoot on a few occasions and artfully dodging the occasional stream of organic waste being released by various pipes along her journey, Ru was discovering just how unsavoury the location could actually be.
"I'm telling you, there something wrong with that bloke," Ru heard one muffled male voice from the opening of a storm drain directly above. Her long pointed ears twitched as she remained perfectly still to listen.
"You mean that Tandy fella?" said another man.
"Wot? Who the hells is Tandy? No, I mean Gandy."
"There ain't no Gandy working hereabouts. You're thinking Landry."
"Who cares. Point being he never lets anybody in that labora-ori-oratory. We're paid to guard this place for frick's sake. Shouldn't we be allowed to know what's going on in there?"
"Are you daft, man? Keep your voice down about that. I don't want to get fired, do you?"
"'Course not, but--"
"But nothin'. Besides, there's a weird green glow coming from there. I'd rather keep my distance. So long as we get paid, none of our business. Savvy?"
"Restricted lab...green glow?" Ru softly whispered her thoughts to herself. She had been certain Vuul was up to no good, but if that included dangerous secret experiments, then she needed to find out what exactly it was. First, however, she needed a way out of the murky tunnel she was in.
As if on cue, there was a hefty metallic screeching sound from further along the tunnel away from Rusasha, very clearly being the sound of rusted metal scraping against more metal. With only a small amount of light seeping through from the storm drain, the Jedi was able to make out the shape of a valve-sealed door just ahead, its circular lock slowly turning as someone opened it from the other side.
Ru successfully ducked her head out of sight, but made the mistake of inhaling through her nose. Having her species' notably sensitive olfactory capacity, it took a monumental effort to keep herself from retching and gagging aloud. She quickly put a hand up to her mouth, and closed her eyes, swallowing repeatedly to keep her stomach contents from passing beyond her esophagus. On her own, she would have failed, but with concentration and thoughts of fresh air and scented oils, she used the Force to calm her natural digestive impulses until the moment passed.
The door finally breached open, the grunts and grumbles of the figure on the other side being the first noise to greet the concealed Jedi Knight. Torchlight lit up the tunnel and the corridor behind the doorway, and the open hatch blissfully allowed a slightly less stagnant air to flow through. The light also cast long shadows from the figure holding the burning torch, as an overweight Human with pale blotchy flesh finished pushing the heavy door open with laboured breaths.
"Ah, Thaalda-shit!" He swore, immediately bringing his arm up to cover his nose as the stench of Ru's tunnel struck him. He turned back to a second figure - a thin woman - behind him. "C'mon, Mlindaa!" He pleaded, his gruff tone ill-fitted to his pathetic whining. "I did the poop-run yesterdee. Ain't it someone else's go?"
"Hey, you karked up them last five tables all by yourself," the sharp-nosed and sharp-toned woman rebuked with an unpleasant sneer as she jangled some coins tied to her cloth waistband. "You ran out of saaphias two days back - you're on poop-run for the next week, the favours you owe. Besides, orders from the top-floor: the lord wants thrice-daily patrols of every tunnel. Seems our master's growin' ever more paranoid these past few weeks. Since that HoloNet piece 'bout the Archae's* son got out, he's seein' shadows creeping up all over the manor."
There was a pause and the woman could be heard to tut loudly at her companion, as if she was only now realising any explanation to the man was a waste of her time. "Just get to the grate and don't come back too quickly," she sighed, tone losing its edge slightly. "An' then you can come back to the table. I'm feelin' generous." Mlindaa then threw a few coins from the purse out into the grimy water before turning away to leave, each piece of metal causing a plopping sound much deeper than water should.
The man only took a couple of seconds of internal deliberation before he decided to leap down into the grime to collect Mlindaa's charity, and Rusasha could see, despite the archaic form of dress of the keep's staff and the ancient aesthetic of the locale, a datacard of some manner poking from a top pocket on the Caanan's tunic.
Still confident she had the advantage of the shadows around her, a bit of her Jedi Shadow training kicked in as she took the liberty of pilfering the card with a gentle tug of her telekinetic power. Gingerly, she orchestrated the subtle rise of the datacard from the pocket while the man was busy fetching the loose shekels. Her prize was nearly her's to claim, but an unexpected coughing fit made the man's torso heave a bit forward enough to cause the card to fall into the muck.
Ru still had a handle on the datacard, and decided she couldn't stay concealed forever. The card lifted up from the water in front of the man, hovering before him for a second as if it were in the grasp of a haunted ghost before dashing through the air into the nearby darkness and into Ru's hand.
"By the Founders!" He gasped, eyes widening in alarmed amazement at the floating object in front of him. Initially, he was too dumbstruck to really respond, but his hands lazily began to lift to reach out towards the datacard, one fat fingertip close to stroking against its wet surface.
The Jedi wasted no time upon getting the attention of the Caanan as she slowly moved her other outstretched hand in a smooth horizontal motion.
"There is nothing to see here," she said softly speaking in an almost seductive manner. Her tone even surprised her; she thought that perhaps some of the ways of those Twi'leks back on Nar Shaddaa had rubbed off on her. For the moment, it seemed to help improve the captivation of her mind trick.
He immediately stiffened, but his eyes became even duller than they had been before, and his hand slowly dropped back to his side. "Uhh... there's nothing to see here," he repeated mindlessly, as so many had before him.
"You should go back to fetching those coins," Ru added.
"I should go back... to fetching those coins ...yeah," the man affirmed in a voice that sounded sleepy and borderline confused. It was as if even his simple mind had divined somewhere, far within its unkempt recesses, that something was amiss about the situation. In fact, he did not actually immediately return to his previous chore, despite Rusasha's suggestion, and instead stared forward at where the datacard he previously been floating.
Ru nevertheless took the opportunity to carefully step around the man and leap to where he had come from. She glanced at the card she held, a wet smelly mess, and she waved it several times away from her to air dry it and rubbed the rest dry on her robe before pocketing it. She then felt her ears twitch slightly as the sound of that woman's voice chattering with someone else was heard nearby. Ru's large green eyes darted left and right and behind as she decided to get closer to the voices, her curiosity getting the best of her. If she could successfully learn to sneak past trained Jedi Knights back at the temple on Coruscant, surely this would be easy as bantha pie.
Pushing onwards towards the sounds of conversations in Basic, Ru noted that the local Caanan accent was not entirely dissimilar to the base Coruscanti accents, and she discovered the stone walls and structure became cleaner, straighter in design, and of more recent foundations and construction, appearing more purposeful and secure. Lighting was still somewhat sporadic and served by a combination of gas lanterns, torches and even electronic lighting designed to appear like archaic sources of light. Large cables ran across the stone ceiling, but the sound of dripping water and the nearby sewage system remained constant, even though Rusasha had sealed the door behind her.
As she reached the corner from which the voices were coming, she could quickly spy three figures assembled about an old wooden table. A candle that was now little more than a flickering stump was slowly melting at the centre, lighting up the round pebbles that were curiously-arranged about the tabletop, interspersed as they were with small denominations of Caanan coins the Jedi had already become faintly familiar with.
But then, glinting in the candlelight and quite apart from the small pieces of metal, was a small yellow credit chit, small gold lines and symbols reflecting the dying flame's light as the Caanan that produced it placed it down with a small brown stone.
"Wot-" started one of them, but it Mlindaa that raised a thin hand and interjected. "Where'd you get that, Calumm?" She asked pointedly, actually pointing a narrow finger at the Republic currency.
Calumm stuttered for a moment, before finding what he believed to be his winning smile, and he pushed himself back on his undersized wooden chair, a triumphant look on his face. Unlike the others, he wore a stained tabard dyed in the forest-green colours of Vuul's household guard.
"Took it from one of the offies* we brought in a few days back, din't I?" He said, shaking his had with self-amusement. "Perk of the job, I say. He won't be needing it no more. Go around with no permit and no leave to stay saying seditious things like he was, not surprising the good lord brought him in. There's a time and a place for that sort of talk, and it's back in Thaavitha."
The second man, older than the rest Ru had seen, shook his head at that, a sad and incredulous grin on his face. "It weren't always like this, you know. Sure, Vlaand and the other Caanan lands have always been slower to trust them from off-world, but they were sure as Hells safe to walk the streets. When Archae Wulhart was wel-"
Mlindaa interrupted the man's talking with a loud groan, which elicited a huff of amusement from Calumm. "Another story about the good old days, eh? Y'know, when the great and noble Wulhart fought for the Republic against the traitors, when great and noble Wulhart opened the gates to the aliens and friends he made across the galaxy, when the great and noble Wulhart traded and rubbed shoulders with the high and mighty of the Core..."
The older man scowled, hurt. "The man's a war hero and a patriot," he retorted, like an offended grandfather. "He comes from a long line of Caanan heroes - people who kept Caanus great and powerful, a family that built an empire!"
Calumm had stopped laughing now, and was just shaking his head at the other man, appearing embarrassed. "There ain't no Caanan Hegemony now, old man," he chided, as if admonishing a child. "And the old Commonwealth don't give two kriffs about us now."
"There hasn't been an Elessan* on Caanus since before Wulhart's father was archae," Mlindaa picked up the conversation. "B'sides, we all saw what Wulhart's trusting nature got him: a dead wife and no kids, slaughtered by that ORA Jedi he picked up during his little crusade with the Republic." The stern woman's voice seemed to then dip slightly, adopting something more akin to an apologetic or understanding tone, as if this was something dear to the man's heart - and something they had discussed before. "The House of Verus is finished, Cragg. There's a reason you're in the Arch and not still up there," she nodded upwards through the ceiling. "Just play your stones, yeah?"
Cragg mumbled something incoherent about Jedi, and could be seen to scratch his scruffy white beard with some misplaced aggression as he muttered something in disagreement about M'lindaa's Rift Jedi story, but he seemed to relent, and plotted two more dark pebbles onto the table, moving one of the ones Calumm had positioned earlier in the game, which elicited a grumble from the young man, too.
Rusasha, sensing the danger of being caught was growing the longer she stayed put, decided she'd heard enough and peeked around the corner at the gathered group of chatterboxes. The instant none had peripheral vision on the doorway, she quickly moved low and passed by a split second before Mlindaa noticed. With careful, yet graceful steps onward, the sneaky Cathar could hear the hums of what sounded like energy barriers.
She stopped just short of rounding a corner towards the source of the barrier sounds just as a lightly armoured Vuul guard stepped out from the room. Ru pressed her back to the wall, and heard the man grumble under his breath, "Where's that blasted Fritzel? Late again for his shift." Then the guard added out loud as he started heading in the direction opposite of where Ru was hiding, "Kommel? Where's Fritz? Hey, where you at you soddin' bastard? I'm not covering for that idiot's tardiness again, you hear me? I got a date and a pint of Briskan Luey waiting for me at Lagertha's."
Ru silently mouthed to herself, "Briskan Luey?" She recalled having heard of it before on Nar Shaddaa back when she was investigating Zenarrah Sozo on behalf of Reborn Order. A human pilot at a cantina on the Smuggler's Moon had called the Luey "the best kept secret from Caanus. Real nectar of the gods!" The name alone was strangely enticing to Ru, not that she enjoyed indulging in alcoholic drinks. Was she missing out? She never could grasp the Human need to be constantly inebriated when not working.
With the guard clear, she cautiously approached the room he left behind. What she saw within made it impossible for her not to enter. The first damning piece of the Vuul puzzle awaited...
TBC
*Translations/explanations
Archae = Caanan king
Offie = colloquial/derogatory term for an off-worlder
Elessan = Natives of Caanus' "Lost Colony"
RSS Feed