The Wizards' Bargain

Posted on Sat Oct 12th, 2019 @ 12:40am by Thane & Bomoor Thort & Mentis

3,057 words; about a 15 minute read

Chapter: Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Galley, Red Raptor, Hyperspace
Timeline: After After "Room for Compassion", Day 4

OLD

He turned on his heel and walked back towards the medbay's door, looking back with a dark expression. "Everyone will be given time to recover and assess their situations, Zaracoda and the cultist's companion most of all, before it is decided what we will do with our new guests. Bomoor, if you are well enough, I think it right we take our Rattataki friend here through to the rec room for some sustenance and a... frank conversation." A slightly menacing glint entered his eyes. "He looks famished."

Mentis’ muscles tightened at the undertones of Thane’s suggestion but he did not react, simply looking to Bomoor for his response.

“Certainly, Thane,” Bomoor nodded, before providing the former cultist with his own challenging glare, “I am certain Mentis will have much to say about his escape from Axion and what has brought him to find us all the way out here.”

With a final glance towards Amare and Zenarrah, the Ithorian led the still-tense Mentis out of the room, leaving Thane lingering in the doorway.

NEW

The hiss of steam dissipated as Bomoor brought forth a pair of mugs from the drinks dispenser and placed them on the the counter of the tiny kitchenette where Thane and Mentis were sat, having pulled over a couple of chairs from the main table.

Picking up his own hot drink, the Ithorian leaned upon the other side of the counter and listened to the conclusion of the Rattataki's tale.

"I do not know what brought me to find you," the pale-skinned man picked up the cup and cradled its heat for a moment, "When I struck Trey down, I just wanted to run and run for ever. All I ever knew was what I saw through the filter of the cult and I thought I was always just a slither away from the power and prestige I was promised."

He took a sip and scowled slightly as the hot liquid burned against his torn lips, "But after I ran far enough it was like... like the curtain had dropped away. I was back where I had first faced the pair of you in battle; where Trey had first challenged my position in the cult and it all just seemed so... pointless."

With a curiosity edging into his voice, Bomoor asked, "You don't hold us responsible for the wounds you suffered then? As a Dark Jedi, such resentment might be seen as a powerful anchor to fuel your powers."

"I was angry..." Mentis admitted, fingering his nose slightly as he cast the briefest glance towards Thane, "But anger never lasts... It always crumbles into fear and then back into numbness."

Bomoor took a sip of his own creamy drink and pondered the sequence of events and emotions Mentis had described. He thought too of what Zenarrah had spoken of in the Med Bay: asking if he could strike down his former kin if his path placed them in his way. For the man who stood before him now, it was precisely such an act that had liberated him and delivered him away from his life of servitude.

Mentis broke up his thoughts as he continued, seeming to address Bomoor in particular, "I have always felt that numbness, but something about seeing you, facing you, made me feel something. Killing Trey was my decision; perhaps the first real decision I have ever made. It did not make me feel good or bad but it did make me feel alive and everything since, with Rex and Reave and down there... well, I want to keep feeling like that. I will follow your cause, fight your enemies, if you will have me."

Thane had listened to the former cultist's story with interest, assessing and digesting the account with as much of a critical perspective as his tiring mind could muster. A sip of the soothing Chandrilan tea had warmed his temperament slightly, especially after their prolonged time on Korriban's dry and dusty surface, the beverage's citrus undertones pleasing him and momentarily prompting recollections of late-night discussions and studies with Bomoor at the Jedi Temple.

Mentis' befuddled presence both physically before him in the Force rapidly detracted from that.

"That cause - those enemies - are your former bedfellows," Thane stated with some scorn as he now rose from his chair, locking his eyes upon the Rattataki, his gaze only shifting briefly to examine his old handiwork upon the warrior's scarred visage. "You would trade their lives to simply be given some firm direction from us; you would seek their destruction, just because you wish for us to decide your course for you?"

Thane had found Mentis' actions since their confrontation on Jericho laudable, for the man had risen up against his slavers to find some righteous path of his own, and had proceeded to find his way across the galaxy, once penniless, and got himself onto the surface of Korriban, having amassed followers of his own (such as they were), and then helped save his own apprentice when he was not there to safeguard her, even though he knew she, still a mere infant within the Force, was not yet ready for such a contest - a failing on Thane's part, and one he intended to address.

And now, it seemed that, in spite of all of that, Mentis the Betrayer was here seeking servitude once again, pursuing some cause on which to hitch his broken-down speeder to. To the young Sith, now considering it, it was almost pathetic, especially in light of Mentis' other recent achievements. Thane then wondered when he had become so harsh on individuals' philosophies and actions.

After all, perhaps this creature deserved lenience in some way; perhaps he should be executed swiftly, for their protection and his past crimes, or simply thrust a fistful of credits and sent on his way? He had earned his chance to speak, at least, Thane deduced. No Gran sai chai for Mentis. Not yet.

Mentis braved himself a look into the fledgling Sith's contemplative eyes, "I am not unaware of the irony of me committing myself to you so soon after claiming my freedom. But if your thoughts dwell on my allegiance, I can offer you only my actions. If I could have offered you the head of any of the cultists back there, I would have. But I can instead offer you anything I know about the cultists, their hideouts or what little I truly know of Axion himself."

Thane allowed himself a brief glance away from Mentis over to Bomoor, finding the nugget of information regarding the minimal knowledge Axion's followers even had of their master intriguing, although he made no comment on it as of yet.

Mentis' presence on the ship did not please him. Along with the other newcomers - including the peculiar Human and antisocial Jawa that had been drawn into the Rattataki's self-inflicted misadventure - matters were becoming increasingly complicated aboard the Red Raptor. The revelation and imposition of Amare's biological mother was certainly an aggravating factor in and of itself, especially for Thane's Sith ambitions with his apprentice, and having a former devotee of their dreaded nemesis whispering half-truths in their ears only muddied the waters further.

"The Jedi Order has already taken a negative interest in our exploits," Thane said, giving voice to his thoughts as they entered his mind, holding his cup as firmly as his eyes focused upon Mentis. "Whilst the Republic does not yet consider us pin-up villains, the Jedi Council has already taken a dim view, and seeking to apprehend us and put us on trial for faux spiritual crimes that offend their insignificant sensibilities. And, now, they may have some knowledge of the fact we breached another of their divine commandments by stepping foot upon Korriban. Couple this with the murder of the Jedi charged with guarding the homeworld of the Sith and our sudden acquisition of one of the Cult of Axion's leading enforcers and a drug smuggler for the Hutts, we almost find ourselves writing the arrest warrants on behalf of the Judicials."

Quite suddenly, although he remained seated and his posture almost nonchalant, Thane raised up his dominant hand and immediately summoned Mentis' lightsaber into his palm. The rapid motion and Force gesture was too unexpected for the Dark Jedi to prevent Thane's claiming of his weapon, which he now turned carefully in his hand, inspecting the hilt's grooved-woven grip and red tassel adornment.

Mentis had reacted too late, but he spilled a portion of his beverage from his metallic cup as he jolted his body slightly backwards in futile response to an attack that never came. He settled back, remaining wary of the man’s actions.

“So, what?” Mentis drew in his breath, “You plan to execute me because of what the Republic might think? I cannot doubt your reasoning: I know little of the Grand Republic or the Jedi Order. But I can tell you now, your Republic’s reach is not infinite. I have lived my whole life in shadow: places where no government or spiritualist would come to judge me. I may be full of fear, but I do not fear judgement…”

Thane ignited the procured lightsaber mid-sentence, its bloodshine blade zipping to life before the Sith's face and interrupting Mentis, the horizontally-held blade casting an ethereal crimson glow over the Human's otherwise-pale features.

The thrum of the plasma blade and the dying hissing from the drink dispenser lingered unchallenged for a moment before Mentis concluded, “I do not fear judgement from men in ivory towers.”

Whether out of ignorance or out of an unbiased observation of the galaxy from the shadows, Bomoor was somewhat impressed that Mentis did not shrink down in the face of Thane’s deluge of warnings. He looked over at the synthetic blade and noted the little red leather adornment set against the tight black weave. A flair of individuality in the sea of darkness this man had waded through his entire life.

“The Jedi often execute those they believe pose a threat to the light,” Bomoor’s voice was gruff but considered, “Their code would have you believe that the Force favours only the light and only its adherents will be saved from damnation. But this is not so: we have seen time and time again that good can flourish from tools of darkness and that evil can be performed wearing the mask of light. Your blade there marks you to many as dark, but do you serve that darkness, or merely wield it?”

“Darkness is all I know,” Mentis answered, facing the Ithorian but still feeling the burning attention of Thane, “I never chose it over the light, but I was never offered that alternative. I have never thought myself controlled by the dark side. I was more preoccupied by one particular controlling Human. But living among others who use the dark, I can attest to the fact that we are not all cut from the same cloth.”

Thane almost scoffed, amused at Mentis' parting truth, finding an inward satisfaction in his own discovery and belief in that fact. He deactivated the red blade but did not yet return the hilt to its owner, still holding it carefully between his two hands, as a sculptor would a decorative piece they had some unique care for. Regarding the Rattataki with slightly narrowed eyes, he mused at the circumstances that had led this troubled warrior to them, of the decisions Mentis had made throughout all of his life, now pledging his talents to stand against the one real family he had stood with in years past.

With the sort of devotion, determination and affinity for the dark side that formed this otherwise-delicate creature's psyche, Mentis may have made for some sort of passable Sith apprentice, had circumstances been different. But looking over him now, he did not see a being that thirsted for power; he did not see a man that longed to conquer his existence. Like Amare, when she had first been discovered in the cargo hold, Mentis appeared now to Thane as a powerful young being, twisted by over a decade of slavery to cruel masters, determined to seek some vengeance or closure for the misdeeds enacted upon him, pursuing the power of others in the quest to do so.

But, there was a fear there. One different from the idealistic and confused youth of Zaracoda Wolph - one that seemed insular, owned by a man troubled by his own insecurities, self-doubts and confusion about the wider universe. There was a rage, certainly, but it was that of a frustrated adolescent. It burned brightly whilst the wound or slight was fresh, but it had a half-life, dwindling to mere kindling as time passed and the wound scarred over.

"You will divulge all of the knowledge you have on the cult, its members, and its underworld dealings?" Thane asked of Mentis, looking up from the dark lightsaber hilt. "It would be simpler to just be rid of you," he then said as a casual addendum.

"I will impart everything I know and answer any questions you put to me," Mentis agreed, adding a firm nod of silent understanding at Thane's other comment, "I pledge myself to you in whatever capacity is necessary to fight back and defeat the Cult of Axion."

Mentis had bore the brunt of Thane's questions and had held his own. It seemed that, despite the deep fear both former Jedi could sense in him, it was not a fear of them or even of Axion, it seemed to be a fear of himself, of falling back into his old ways.

"I still wonder," Bomoor began, "Whether your presence will be more hindrance than help. But, I am willing to take that burden upon myself as I cannot, in good conscience, have you killed after coming to us in good faith. That is not who we are: we should be better than those we stand against."

Thane gave his friend a brief sidelong glance, wondering if the Ithorian's passing comment was an intentional slight or reminder, but it did not particularly concern him. As close as they were, there had always been understandable divergences in their philosophies, ones that were arguably reconcilable, even if neither surrendered their position to the other. Thane always found that healthy - and absent in most Reborn Jedi.

"Then," the Sith said, now turning to face Bomoor completely and gesturing a finger towards the other former Jedi's bulk, "beyond the man himself, if it is your desire, you will bear the responsibility for his actions and his welfare whilst he is with us. You will account for his movements and his decisions; if he brings us into further disrepute or exposes anything about us and our gambits, the blame will rest with you as much as with him - and I will expect you to deal with that fact expeditiously and without hesitation. No excuses." He proferred Mentis' lightsaber up to Bomoor, rather than its owner. "No compromises."

The ship shuddered slightly under some slight gravitational anomaly in hyperspace and the weight of the responsibility was delivered to the former Jedi. The Ithorian collected the blade from Thane's outstretched hand, "All that you have said, Thane, is what I promise you: I will not hesitate should the actions of this man compromise our mission or our safety."

He then turned to Mentis, and gestured the weapon in the air as he spoke, as he dangled his proposition before the Rattataki, "If you betray the trust I am placing in you, you will answer to my own blade. Do not make me regret this decision for all the fury of Axion will not match my own if you should bring harm to my companions."

Even as Bomoor had been speaking, Thane had watched Mentis and his response more closely as the Ithorian made his agreement with Thane and then made his stark position clear to the former cultist. For now, it was satisfactory and, in some regards, fair - not that Amare had ever been a foe of theirs on the battlefield prior to her unexpected arrival aboard the Red Raptor.

On, he considered, the same world we first encountered Mentis, in fact. The former Jedi Guardian wondered, for the umpteenth time since their paths had crossed with the Cult of Axion, at the sick sense of humour or purpose the Force seemed to have with regards to their cluster of misfits. He wondered what their next trip to Nar Shaddaa might bring.

Finally, Thane nodded to his friend and gave Mentis a brief but meaningful glance, and then turned on his heel to depart the rec area towards his cabin and the 'freshers. There was several days' worth of Korriban grime to wash away.

Bomoor watched Thane depart, knowing that, while this agreement on Mentis had been satisfactory, any failure by the newcomer would create a strain on their relationship. He thought briefly at how his friend had secretly walked himself and Coda down the path of the Sith. Even though his intentions had now been voiced, his venture into the ancient dark side religion could also be doomed to failure. Perhaps his friend's harsh words were a reflection of his own anxieties upon taking a gamble on the darkness.

He looked down at the leather bound hilt in his hands, twisting it as though observing its detail, but really only buying him a few further moments in thought. After the moments had passed, he directed his gaze towards Mentis and held out the blade once again. Mentis grasped the hilt and, for a moment, they held it together before the Ithorian released his end to the new passenger aboard the Raptor.

"You should find yourself an empty cabin to rest in," Bomoor suggested plainly, "I will find you in a little while and we shall talk more deeply about what you know."

"About Axion?" Mentis queried.

"About everything," came the reply, "I suppose you are my padawan now, or something to that effect. We shall work it all out in time. Go and rest. I must find out where your friend's droid is taking us."

END

RSS Feed