Bonds Loathed
Posted on Sun Nov 25th, 2012 @ 7:40am by Thane & Morgo Le'Shaad
Edited on on Sun Dec 2nd, 2012 @ 6:47pm
3,097 words; about a 15 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter II: Era's Dawn
Location: Galaxies Opera House, Coruscant
Timeline: 2000 Hours (Local Time), Day Six
(Concurrent with "Bonds Broken".)
If it were not for the masses of people shuffling about him, glinting gems and baubles hanging from their body parts, luscious examples of the opposite gender tugging at their arms with fake wide smiles and eccentric clothing, pretending to find one another's jokes amusing, that they were genuinely interested in one another's wasted air, Thane would actually be quite enjoying himself as he walked along the grand parade of the Galaxies Opera House, which adopted a peculiar design, stretching about the side of the main bulk of the extravagant and large building.
Whilst it may have lost some popularity because of the stigma Emperor Palpatine of the First Galactic Empire had given it during his tenure a millennia ago, enough had a love for the opera and this particular venue to have had it fully restored following the Yuuzhan Vong War (in fact not long after Palpatine's death), and it had endured since, still attracting nobles, their guests and other tourists in their grand numbers. If anything, like for Thane, Palpatine's link, given he was not only Galactic Emperor but also one of the most powerful Sith Lords in history, was actually an attraction. To the young Human Jedi, for Palpatine to have reached his level of power, he must have been in a class of his own, with both intelligence, power and taste, and his cunning mind had felt the allure of this particular opera house. Despite Palpatine's infamy and supposed crimes, Thane decided the Galaxies Opera House must then be an impressive destination for cultured entertainment.
However, as he considered this, he also considered this was the exact opposite reason for his arrival; after all that had transpired with Bería, the Jedi High Council, Bomoor and the conversation with Master Sotah, he had deduced his mind had been working at a greater pace than it normally did - he had come here to relax some. Trying to push the thoughts from his mind, he could not help but sigh at the sight of the slow moving groups, who were sluggishly making their way up the red carpeted steps into the opera house, particularly at the speed a corpulent Rodian (a most bizarre sight) was moving, his three female escorts struggling to aid him.
Shoving aside the temptation to use the Force to trip the Rodian up for some simple amusement, Thane took the steps quickly two at a time, hastily but carefully bringing himself to the front of the queue, politely addressing the odd person and throwing a carefully-practised fake smile at an easily-impressionable noble woman made sure he caused no upset, although he was certain a part of himself died inside every time he had to deceive like that, but it was a necessary evil.
As he reached the organic attendant standing at one of the many booths near the grand entrance, Thane pulled out his credit chip ready to pay for the performance, which he was as of yet in the dark as to what it was. Standing in the booth was a well-endowed red-skinned Twi'lek woman, garbed in very revealing finery and a smile that was even better rehearsed than Thane's own, but this time he did not match it.
"Good evening, Master Jedi," she welcomed, her eyes bright and glinting in the well-lit area. "By yourself, sir?"
Thane's eyes narrowed slightly as he placed the chip on the counter. "Fortunately," he declared. "What's the show about to start?"
"Jedi Lost," the Twi'lek announced, as if it was a curious question. Certainly, it was not common for someone to turn up not knowing what was on, but they were rarely sold out to the point they would not accept newcomers buying on the night. "It's a performance chronicling the rise and fall of Emperor Krayt and his bane, Cade Skywalker."
"The lost Jedi," Thane said with a bemused raise of an eyebrow. "I'll take a seat, as far away from most of the other attendees as possible." He gave a derisive look to the others ascending the steps and entering the building.
She gave him a smile, as if there was something amusing about what he said, but he just narrowed his eyes further at her. It was always annoying when people found his disdain for the common man and his behaviour endearing. It was usually either that or someone accusing him of being a bad Jedi. Maybe he was.
"Here you go, Master Thane," she said, having read the name from the credit chip as the cost was deducted from his account. She gestured with a bright red arm towards the entrance just next to them. "One of our attendant droids will take you to your seating, and on behalf of the Galaxies Opera House, I hope you enjoy the show." With one more blast of her smile, she waited for Thane to move off before speaking to the next patron.
As he stepped forward, his blue and wary eyes searching for the doubtlessly-inbound droid, he was caught off-guard by a mechanical voice that came from behind him. Turning on his heel quickly, he regarded the immaculate and shining silver mechanical assistant. Droids were another thing on the long list of things that bothered the Jedi; he could not sense them through the Force and they could easily be programmed to oppose oneself. One day, it might be your closest friend, having developed a personality and history, and the next a diabolical and sadistic killing machine. That, and they often took jobs from other capable sentients.
"Good evening, Master. May I direct you to your seating?" Its head twitched to one side as droids' heads often did. After a few seconds of watching the droid, Thane gave a nod. "Is sir alone for this fine performance?" It enquired with a polite but quick tone as it led the way past several occupied booths and seating areas. Far down on the stage, an intricate light show with odd noises was keeping the patrons mildly entertained until the true performance was ready. The various colours and lights reflected off of the droid's shiny exterior, creating a display almost as good as the genuine article. After realising Thane was not going to answer its question, it cocked his head. "Would sir like me to find some company for him?"
"No, thank you," he responded dryly but in a polite tone, striding ahead of the droid as he saw where his lone seating area awaiting him. The droid picked up its pace to stay astride with the Human. "We also have a wide array of beverages available sir's consumption, is-"
Thane winced and waved a pale hand at the attendant. "Get me a spiced ruby wine and then you're dismissed, droid." The tone of his voice made clear his wish to not deal with the robotic being again but to receive his beverage, and it even seemed to pick up on this, lowering its head slightly before bumbling off to complete its task. He found it remarkable how many even acted like their emotions were one hundred percent real. Certainly, many did have such emotions, but not all of them, and he did not feel as though this one did.
Pushing the thought from his mind, he fluidly swung his greatcoat over the back of his chair in the same motion as he sat himself upon it, crossing one leg over the other as he finally settled down in the comfortable seat. As he began to regard the growing audience, he extended his hand out ready to clasp the wine flute that contained his spiced ruby, not saying a word only being pleased when it departed again. He instructed it to only return if he finished his drink, which had a beautiful spiciness to it, and a touch of class he could not usually find at most cantinas. Whilst enjoying the drink and waiting for the opera to begin, he stretched out with the Force, closing his eyes as he both thought on the wine and sensed the people around him. So few in-tune with the Force, and nearly all were gorging themselves on their own vices and interests, absolute greed and disregard for others, with only a few specks of intelligence worming their way in through the crowd. It was they whom Thane approved of - the ruling elite who actually had the common sense to back and strengthen their positions. It was so rare to find someone of the elite was actually elite.
As Thane's powers flexed themselves across the opera house, he had the strangest sensation that he was being watched. Usually, he got a few glances from people, either because he was a Jedi or because they did not like his attitude, but his seemed sustained. He resisted the urge to turn around and find out what the source was visually, preferring to call upon the Force again. However, as he tried, it was as if something were blocking him, or at least evading him. The harder he tried, the more it seemed to escape him, but he could not tell if it was purposeful, natural, or his own inability, given the amount of people now filling the stalls.
The lights dimming brought his attention away from that and to the front, where figures - the actors - were gathering. As was common for operas at the Galaxies Opera House, things were not quite as streamlined or simple as in most performances. Instead, a lot of the show was displayed through the use of smoke, lights, noises and general visual and auditory effects, with a good amount of powerful singing and dramatic leaps. For some, this made the storyline difficult to follow, but for others - Thane included - this gave it some depth. However, he still regarded many as pretentious in this way, particularly the ones that heralded the Jedi and Republic.
A deep baritone and menacing voice could be heard all about, and from the mist, the shape of a grotesque humanoid figure appeared, announcing itself as Darth Krayt, and how he had toppled the Fel Empire and Galactic Alliance both. The performance cut to some key points concerning Krayt's coup and self-declaration as Galactic Emperor, as well as the war prior to that, such as the introduction of a young Cade Skywalker during the Massacre at Ossus, a part of the One Sith-led purge of the New Jedi Order. These scenes were amongst the most interesting to Thane, his eyes reflecting and glittering the bright red and orange lights and powerful steam shooting about to represent the battles, but he had reached his third flute of spiced ruby when his attention was fully directed to Jedi Lost.
Darth Krayt was speaking to three great ghostly apparitions, each dastardly and deadly in their own right, blue and shadowy, larger than life and menacing (a compliment to the playwright and director), and were meant to represent the gatekeepers of three Sith holocrons Krayt had in his possession, that of Darths Nihilus, Andeddu and, lastly, Darth Bane. Although he knew it already, Thane was still alarmed by the fact the piece in his possession had once been in the grasp of Krayt, quizzed and used by the Dark Lord during his time as Emperor of the galaxy. Although he knew he should be in part fearful of its awesome power, he instead found himself humbled by the majesty of such an item being in his possession, the history it had, and its importance.
What was more interesting, though, was how Darth Bane was refusing the address Krayt, not wishing to divulge his secrets to the Dread Lord of the One Sith, but preferring to mock him and his heretical ways, of how his own Sith would turn against one another and crumble. As the trio of deceased Sith Lords continued to taunt and deride Krayt, he suddenly began to jolt about the stage, lights emanating lightning and loud and dramatic music growing, and Krayt himself seemed to malform, smoke and mirrors allowing the actor to seem to be growing. Flashes of red and sudden darkness mixed together with eeriness and drama to portray this evil shift, as Krayt's armour supposedly overtook the Dark Lord, before he finally collapsed in a cacophony of laughter from the three deceased ones.
As the laughter dissipated, so too did the lights, signalling the end of the first act and the start of the intermission. Glancing now down to his empty glass, Thane was quietened and thoughtful by the fact Bane had apparently chosen him, had agreed to speak and tutor him over the might and power an emperor of a galaxy, even if he had only spent a few nights conversing with the Sith gatekeeper.
Having failed in his objective to clear his mind, he donned his greatcoat once again and wandered to one of the three bars that were arranged about the Galaxies Opera House, ordering yet another of the ruby spiced, but doing a remarkable job of being unaffected by it, and clasping it firmly before taking a mouthful. It was then that he felt those watching eyes again, as well as the confusing void from before - a black hole in his senses. He glanced to the wine with a suspicious eye, as if the source of the confusion could well be the drink.
Behind Thane and across the small room, Morgo was looking sharply at the back of the Jedi's head of dark hair. He was here. The Jedi was here in the same bar. Morgo breathed. While she was well aware that it could have been a perfectly innocent coincidence (it was intermission and only three bars serviced the masses), Morgo couldn't help but feel...suspicious. Choosing to ignore it, Morgo turned her focus to the room.
This bar was a warm little room of dark wood and velvet furniture, all coordinated to a deep emerald and a deep crimson. A smell of dark, thick roses laid beneath the more obvious scent of alcohol and the various perfumes of the patrons. The very floors, walls, and furniture seemed to be seasoned with fragrant bay leaves, warm cinnamon and zesty citrus rinds.
"Merik," she warned smoothly, looking at him from the corner of her gray eye, elbow on the table and chin resting on her palm, "Slow down. I really don't want to have to put up with you drunk." The man finished his glass and poured himself more Abrax, an blueish cognac.
"I can't get drunk, " the man muttered, "I've tried."
The woman chuckled, “I bet you have,” and sliding her own glass closer to the bottle, Merik obliged her by pouring. “That, my friend, is tragic.”
"Quite." the man with the floppy blonde hair smiled, "But drinking helps me calm my nerves and build up courage."
"Thinking of approaching someone?" Morgo's smug expression could not even affectionately be called a smile. There were, however, teeth involved, "There are a total of three men sitting at the bar, Merik, and if you want my advice, I'd suggest you take the one on the far left, the one in the dark cloak. Keen as he is on his own drink, he may not notice your face."
Merik sputtered and Morgo was pleased, "Force, Morgo just-" he made a choking sound , "Just shut up for five minutes, alright? I was talking about building up courage to face my cheque-pad. " Patting down his pockets, he cursed, "Damn, I think I left it in my airspeeder." Pausing, he turned to Morgo, "I don't supposed you'd care to tell me whether or not you'll be transferring the funds to my account legally or not."
"I thought you said you didn't want me to talk."
Merik groaned in irritation and stood, pushing his seat back, "I'll be right back Morgo, just...." he sighed, carding his fingers through his hair, "...Just try not to insult any more patrons while I'm gone, alright? See you soon."
"Not too soon." Morgo said as he turned. Rolling his eyes, Merik stamped down the familiar urge to flick one of her earrings in retribution and proceeded to walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Alone now, Morgo allowed herself to sink into her seat a bit, letting her eyes fall on one wealthy Coruscantean to the next, her gaze eventually landing right back where it started—staring at the back of the Jedi. The man had to be onto his third drink by now.
Slowly, Morgo stood, fingers slipping around the neck of the empty Abrax bottle and with the other hand, swiped up the two empty glasses. Much as she preferred not to put herself into direct contact with the Jedi, she thought it advantageous to engage him in conversation and determine whether or not he was here on duty, or only for leisure's sake. Whether or not she would escape now depended on that answer.
As Morgo walked over to the bar, she thought it unfortunate that the Jedi were not as uptight about alcohol consumption while on-duty as CoruSec was. Otherwise, one look at his drink would've been able to answer her question. Morgo reached over the bar counter and offered the empty bottle and glasses to the bartender with a gracious smile, "Thought I'd save your waiters the trouble."
Grateful (and somewhat surprised he was not getting getting the barrage of complaints these nobles usually gave him) the bartender smiled back, "Why, thank you. Could I get the lady something else, then?"
Morgo sat, careful not to crease the fine fabric of her sari, and left a seat in between herself and the Jedi. Given that he was still alone after half the arias had been sung, the man clearly valued his space and solitude, "The famed Jade roses are grown solely on Coruscant, are they not?" she asked smoothly.
"Aye they are, my lady." the bartender answered easily, "Would you care for the Jade Rose wine?"
The woman blinked, "The Jade Rose hip tea, if you please." And as it was placed before her, Morgo turned her head lightly to the side, eyeing the man from the corner of her eye. Up close, a scar was visible running across his right eye, but it was light enough that it did not mar his face. Turning towards him completely, she studied him over the curling steam of her tea.
"Are you lost, Mr. Jedi?"
TBC
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