About: Not My Kind of Archaeology/The Unwelcome Visitor   Sponge Permalink

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"Ah, yes..." The Senator turns to look over at the very spot that occured. "A nasty affair, but I'm glad injuries were as minimal as they were. I'm sure I can pledge the full support of Dac's seat on the Defense Council in whatever you need. And not just because I happened to be there, but because I don't think I can find it in me to not trust someone both an officer and a Jedi," he adds with a small grin. Myiari merely shrugs helplessly. "I wouldn't know," she replies. "I had only just stepped off a shuttle myself before getting caught up in this mess."

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • Not My Kind of Archaeology/The Unwelcome Visitor
rdfs:comment
  • "Ah, yes..." The Senator turns to look over at the very spot that occured. "A nasty affair, but I'm glad injuries were as minimal as they were. I'm sure I can pledge the full support of Dac's seat on the Defense Council in whatever you need. And not just because I happened to be there, but because I don't think I can find it in me to not trust someone both an officer and a Jedi," he adds with a small grin. Myiari merely shrugs helplessly. "I wouldn't know," she replies. "I had only just stepped off a shuttle myself before getting caught up in this mess."
Date
  • 18(xsd:integer)
Characters
dbkwik:sw1mush/pro...iPageUsesTemplate
Author
Title
  • The Unwelcome Visitor
Synopsis
  • A bandaged zombie-esque being warns the Jedi to deliver a recently obtained artifact to Nar Shadaa or face dire consequences.
Setting
  • Near the Jedi Temple, Ord Mantrell
abstract
  • "Ah, yes..." The Senator turns to look over at the very spot that occured. "A nasty affair, but I'm glad injuries were as minimal as they were. I'm sure I can pledge the full support of Dac's seat on the Defense Council in whatever you need. And not just because I happened to be there, but because I don't think I can find it in me to not trust someone both an officer and a Jedi," he adds with a small grin. And into this charming tete-a-tete wanders Johanna, none too pleased with the outcome of the galactic lottery, mostly because she's lost -- again -- for precisely the 3,871st time. "You know," she mentions to Leo as she glares at her surroundings, coming to a halt near those assembled, "I think I have the worst luck ever. Statistically, shouldn't I have won at least a few credits by now? Like five, maybe? I'd be happy with five, or something." The pilot heaves a sigh and continues to ramble in her characteristically backwards fashion, largely oblivious to the politer dictums of society. "And I just came from Corellia, too. What a dump. You'd think they were glad to be out of danger, but no, they're rude as ever. My uncle wouldn't even loan me any money, the tightwad. Everything's gone wrong." Suddenly, her attention is caught by the man in rags. "Is that a leper?" Leo returns the grin to the Senator as he replies, "I greatly appreciate your support and trust." The pilot's gaze changes though as he looks to Johanna and lets only the twitch of his dimples reveal he holds back laughter. Yet, at the mention, a brow is slightly raised and the man lets his eyes wander toward the being about which she speaks. In a thoughtful response, he says, "For some reason, I doubt that." No, not a leper, not a zombie nor a mummy, but there is something of all that to this being, an oddly pale human, and it is only reinforced by the stench of decay coming from him that overpowers whatever natural air he is near. "Jedi.", the wail that comes from his opened mouth as he nears is inhuman and particularly loud. "Jedi.", again that sound. But Rasi is nt there to hear it, the man having made an excuse for his sudden departure some moments past. The perceptive, and not so perceptive given his lack of subtlety at that time, perhaps catching the look given Johanna once she approaches and makes clear that she is to join them. Thankfully, he's enough composure to not mutter some of the things that come to his mind. Myiari stands some distance away from the already-present group, surveying her surroundings with a wide-eyed stare of what could be interpreted as either amazement, confusion, or perhaps even both. Though she seems mostly oblivious to the people around her, her gaze is occasionally drawn to the individuals speaking, as if having heard small bits of conversation before returning to surveying the terminal. The Senator isn't at all offended by the sudden entrance of the pilot. In fact, he fails at suppressing what passes for a grin on the face of a Mon Calamari. His hands unclench from behind his back when he joins the group looking at the figure, his mouth open but not sure exactly what to say. Making a regular point of breaking procedure and not bringing security with him on his walks, he's unescorted, and decides to stay by the side of the Colonel, imagining that despite being so close to the danger, he's probably the safest place to be at the moment. "Jedi...I bring news from your student.", again there is a hair-raising sound that comes from the odd being that walks towards them, though now he stops some metres short of the Jedi and the Senator and roughly that same distance from Myiari, the woman standing to his side rather than in front of him like the others. "We have Te'jan, we are willing to release him but we want something for him...give us what we want and we will have peave, deny us and your student will perish or worse." The man's eyes are still not open, and from this distance, it is not hard to view the large cut going down from the man's throat and hidden by the torn clothes he wears. The near-perfect line downwards and the way it has cauterized, if not healed, signalling that a lightsabre is behind that wound. Myiari's posture perks up slightly, glancing to the group once more. A small frown marks her features as she mouths the word 'Jedi', staring at the person in particular who first spoke it with a look of uncertainty. After a moment, the expression disappears with a sudden blink, and she whirls around, attempting to look occupied to hide any indication of eavesdropping. "I don't know about my friends here, but I don't do too well with threats," Johanna replies, still more perturbed about her failed lottery attempts than anything else, "Plus, you might want to see a doctor about your..." she gestures to the creature's vile wound, "... thing, there. I let a cut go one time without treating it, and it turned nasty. Trust me, you don't want to go there." Of course, while she outwardly seems rather cavalier about the stinky rag-man's approach, she's no fool, and her senses move to decipher what compels the creature to this place -- be it simple dementia or something more sinister. That he can name names is a mark on his side towards the latter, but one can never be sure about the loonies here. They tend to know more than they ought. As the bandaged man speaks, Leo lets his eyes remain on the being. The sapphire gaze passes up and down the being as if sizing him up. Yet, the only movement is his gaze as it changes focus from the one before him to Johanna. The pilot remains silent, his position at the moment being that of a spectator as opposed to an active participant. The Senator relaxes a little, but still maintains an upward posture. The Senator has never been one for physical confrontation and hopes to not be involved in any, standing silent in front of the creature and letting it respond, doubting that there's anything useful he could contribute to the matter. The use of the Dark Side to control this being and animate him radiates in waves from the man, in fact there is nothing to him but that energy, whatever else there was to him now long gone. "I do not threaten, I inform that your apprentice will be returned to you in safe condition...in perfect condition should we receive something from him. A bauble that your researchers mistake for something of importance, it is only important to us as it once belonged to our found. The Ord of Barad, you have it and we want it.", each word wheezed out as the man begins to grow weaker, the energy taken to animate this corpse immense enough that its wielder must be being drained quickly. "We will return him for the Orb, we will tell you where to meet us and who to bring." The man's head turns from left to right until it settles on looking at Myiari, "Her.", a hand raised to point her out and then the Senator is pointed as well, "Three others of your choice and up to four Jedi including you two and your Skywalker. Give us the orb if you wish for peace and for the student's safe return." Myiari 's body tenses in almost the exact same moment the creature points to her, and she turns around, slowly. No point in trying to pretend to be oblivious now. Though she doesn't move from her spot, she remains attentive, her expression a mixture of uncertainty and confusion. The ramp to a nearby Gnat freighter descends and a veiled woman, swathed in a moss-green dress, makes her way down and onto the tarmac. She begins to walk, a bag slung over one shoulder, when a strange gathering of familiar beings catches her eyes. She begins to approach, slowly at first, as she tries to get some sense of the current situation. Johanna stares for a moment. The creature might as well have spontaneously combusted then and there, for all her look of disbelief registers. "I beg your pardon," the pilot begins, moving much closer to the heap of evil and stink and trying very hard not to vomit right in its face, "I don't recall anyone inviting you over to order folks around. You're an ugly puppet, man. Your master could have sent something less like rotten cheese and more like an actual being." A beat, and then, "Unless your master /is/ rotten cheese, in which case you have my full apologies." Though he has amused her somewhat, the rag-man is now beginning to wear out her patience. "At any rate, we don't negotiate with your kind. Go stink up some other starport." The senator scowls a little as he gets pointed at, but whatever this was, it seemed to be important, so he remains silent through Johanna's cavalier outburst. "Our researchers?" The Senator asks. While he does his best to keep up with the major shifting events surrounding the Republic, this is obviously something he's totally unfamiliar with. "What are you talking about?" "The Jedi's researchers, their fool scholars who insult us by touching our great founder's orb, we want it back, we want it back or for each day that passes we will bring terrors unimaginable on your people. We will have it or you will bring war upon yourself.", the animated corpse shouts, his words further amplified by the judicious use of the Force. And suddenly, Myiari, earlier pointed at, finds herself being dragged towards the group. "Bring those we mentionned or we will destroy your people." Myiari stumbles forward towards the others with a small yelp, pulled by an unseen force. Once she regains her balance, she straightens up, glaring indignantly at the figure before her. "I don't know who you are or what your problem is," she growls. "But I don't have anything to do with this relic thing you're after. Why am -I- being dragged into this?" It's the foul odor that catches her attention first... that and the yelling. Either way, Brin makes her way cautiously closer, her eyebrows (one of the only parts of her veiled features visible) raising in incredulous disbelief. The Sith again - she can only assume that's what's going on, here. Don't they ever learn their lesson or take a hint. "Do they really think they'll succeed where so many before them have failed?" she asks in her thick, Eriadu accent once she is close enough to speak. "How many have tried and failed to destroy the Jedi and the New Republic so far?" The Senator frowns at the assortment of responses from the others. Not in a position to speak for the Jedi, the Senator is somewhat at a loss for words, and he certainly doesn't want the decision to go decided before being undiscussed by those who can make sense of the figure's words. "You don't need to bring uninvolved civilians into this, there's no point. It wouldn't be good for anybody. Besides, regardless of what the Jedi do, it will undoubtedly take time to locate the Orb...how are you going to contact us, and when?" The laughter that comes from the man's opened mouth is cut off, the man nearly falling to the ground as his 'user's' strength begins to fade. "Bring all of them to Nar Shaddaa or else you will suffer, take this fool's fate as proof that we will not hesitate to commit unspeakable evils. You can either have your peace and we the orb or you can decide to deny us our founder's relic and seal your own deaths. Bring her as well, she must come!", Myiari's excuses ignored and with that last word, the corpse falls down flat on the ground, gasping and shaking violently until finally it lies still. The 'this', however is only revealed when the corpse begins to decompose at an accelerated pace, several days' worth of decay experienced in a few blinks of one's eyes. Myiari remains silent, simply staring at the corpse on the floor, finally realizing just what had been addressing those assembled, though, by the look on her face, not quite comprehending what had transpired. Once the initial shock fades, it's soon replaced by an expression of slight fear. "...what was that...that thing?" she asks of no one in particular. Seeing a reanimated corpse speak and make threats had left the young woman visibly shaken. "Well. That was one of the most disgusting things I've seen... all week," Brin comments. "I always seem to walk in on things like this..." In the face of the other woman's reaction, though, the veiled woman offers her as reassuring an expression as she can. "The Sith like to make a statement," she explains soothingly. "But do not be overly concerned. The Jedi don't make a habit of involving people in their affairs, against their will." The Senator recoils in disgust from the rapid decay of the corpse before joining Brin in comforting the seemingly arbitrarily chosen woman. "The Jedi would never allow you to be put in harm's way," he agrees. "It is not their way." The Senator gives as soothing a smile as can be expressed on the face of a Mon Calamari. "Whoever they they, they obviously know what they're doing," he says, frowning at the fetid pile laying on the floor. "But as you said," he looks at Brin, "The Republic's had quite a bit of experience with harrowing affairs, and we've always managed to come out on top so far," he trails off at the end, blinking silently and continuing to stare absently at the grotesque remains. Myiari emits a quiet groan, running a hand through her hair absently. "Sith, Jedi...this just isn't my day," she grumbles, glancing to the Mon Calamari and the other woman left with her. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop; I just sort of heard little bits here and there. I didn't think I'd end up getting dragged into anything." She offers a faint, sheepish grin, eyeing the corpse again and suddenly becoming sombre again. "What if he decides to make good on his threat? He said he wanted me to be brought along..." "The Jedi will offer you their protection, if you fear for your safety," Brin answers calmly. Just who is this veiled woman that she feels so comfortable speaking on behalf of the Jedi? "And you will not be forced into anything you do not desire. The Jedi and the Republic do not bow to the whims of criminals, nor do they negotiate ransoms." The Senator nods at Brin. "I'm guessing that they want you there because they know that the Jedi will not do anything to provoke them if there is an innocent life in danger. But don't dwell on it to much. The Republic's official policy is specifically not to conduct any kind of negotiation or ransom." Myiari still appears uncertain and rather unconvinced, but nods her head regardless. "If you say so...," she replies. "But after seeing all that, I don't think I want to take any chances. Might as well take measures to protect myself, though I'm not sure how much good that'll do. I think I'm in way over my head as it is, and all I did was overhear a conversation." "If you would like, I can escort you over to the Temple personally," Brin offers, as she pulls out a comlink from one of her pockets. "I have a few friends over there who'd be happy to look after you and reassure you on any doubts you may have. Though if you'll excuse me for one moment... I should make a brief call." She starts to take a small step back, raising the comlink to her lips. "I'm sure the Jedi will take ample care of you," the Sennator says as soothingly as a Mon Calamari can manage. "Contact my senate staff office if there's anything I can do for you, just mention who you are. In the meantime," he looks again at the remains. "I'm going to file ... whatever forms it is that I'll need to file to find what he was talking about, and why they have such a strong desire for it." Myiari replies with a hesitant nod. "I guess that'll be alright for now," she says in response to the veiled woman's offer. She shifts slightly, fidgeting nervously with her goggles. "I had planned on doing a few things while I was here, but those can wait." With a faint grimace, she adds, "I can't say I'd be looking forward to be stuck around a bunch of Jedi, but it's better than having a Sith, or whatever that thing was breathing down my neck." Brin nods politely as the Senator departs, and retreats a short distance away to speak softly into her comlink. There is, after all, no leaving the site of this mess until the proper authorities have arrived to take care of it. "Don't worry, not /all/ Jedi are dreadfully dull and horrific," she replies with some humor. "In fact, there are a few that actually know how to make and take a joke." Not enough of them, but some. Myiari gives the woman her space to conduct her call, all the while avoiding eye contact with the rotted corpse. After a moment of awkward silence, the blonde-haired woman decides to introduce herself, albeit hesitantly. "I'm, ah...Myiari. Myiari Oerstead." "Brin Harper," the veiled woman introduces herself in her usual straight-forward manner. She steps forward, offering one hand over in a firm handshake. "We're going to wait here a few moments longer," she explains. "Until this scene can be closed off." She places herself between Myiari and the decomposing corpse, to spare her the sight of it. "My apologies, I know this is not the most pleasant of locations." Out of a newly arrived shuttle steps Hess. He's carrying with him a small duty bag, and then a larger duffel thrown over his shoulder. He takes a breath, smiles, and then looks around the imediate vicinity. If he notices the corpse that Brin is standing in front of it doesn't show as he starts to walk in the direction of the two women, eyes turned upwards. "N-no, it's not that," the younger girl replies, shaking her head quickly as she returns the handshake. "I'm used to seeing dead things. Just not used to seeing dead things come back to life, walking around, talking and threatening your life..." Myiari manages a weak chuckle. It wasn't the presence of the dead body that was bothering her, but seemed to be more the whole ordeal that had her shaken. "And then there was that weird feeling earlier too..." "The Sith are good at weird feelings," Brin replies with sympathy. As Hess arrives, she turns to study the man with a somewhat dubious expression, her hand slipping closer to the slits up the side of her dress. In addition to 'weird feelings,' the Sith were also known for being somewhat persistant in their attacks. She wouldn't be surprised to have them sneak in for a second go. As Hess approaches, he asks, "Either of you happen to know where the...." and he trails off as he smells something, and then spots the source of the smell. The corpse is given a bit of a suprised look and he backs up a step or two, adding, "I am on Ord Mantell, right?" as he looks about the spaceport as if for a sign that tells him where he is. Myiari offers an awkward glance towards Brin before returning it to Hess. "Erm...Ord Mantell?" she repeats, a hint of nervousness seeping into her voice. "Yeah, this would be it." She spares a momentary look at the corpse, mostly hidden by Brin's frame. Explaining this would be difficult, not that she knew much to begin with. "You are indeed in the right place, soldier," Brin replies, still standing between them and the corpse. "Ord Mantell is a very dramatic planet and, being the home of both the New Republic and the Jedi Temple, is the target of many, varied, and often quite unusual attacks. You've walked into the middle of one such event." As she speaks, a speeder begins to approach from the otherside of the spaceport, and an unusuall quick pace for such a populated locale. "Pilot." Hess corrects Brin, before he looks back down at the corpse, "So...err...what? He just wandered over, someone shot him and he's just been layin around for a few days?" He seems to have a bit of morbid curiosity about it, but, at the moment he's not moving any closer. "Well, not exactly..." comes Myiari's quiet reply. By now, her complexion is a bit paler than before, and her face is showing signs of slight fatigue, though she still manages to hold herself well. "I walked in on the happenings a bit late," Brin replies, before offering her somewhat evasive answer. "But it seems as if the body was brought here, as something of a threat." Hey, that was true enough. Right? She offers Myiari a pointed look, before the speeder pulls up, disgorging a human gentleman and a twi'lek female, both grim faced and grim. "Oh, not again," the female complains as she eyes the corpse. "Why do I always get stuck cleaning up these messes?" "Right...uh, anyways. Either of you know the way to Headquarters here? Orders say I'm to report there by..well..by just about now." Hess says, finally peeling his eyes away from the corpse to look at Brin and Myiari, before adding, "And I doubt the Colonel is going to accept the excuse that I was stopped by a threatening dead body." Myiari merely shrugs helplessly. "I wouldn't know," she replies. "I had only just stepped off a shuttle myself before getting caught up in this mess." "Military base is right off the transit line," Brin explains, before gesturing for the pair to follow her. "You both got this?" she asks the two beings who had appeared, even as vehicles marked as part of the planetary law enforcement start to approach. "We've got this," the man replies, waving them off, even as his female partner continues to complain. Brin shakes her head slightly, and begins moving towards the exit from the starport. "I'll show you the way." Hess nods and follows after Brin, "Right-o," he says, before adding, "I'm Joran Hess, Flight Cadet," by way of introduction. "I don't think I caught either of your names though." "Myiari Oerstead," the blonde woman replies, following a few steps behind both Hess and Brin. "I just graduated from medical college, and was doing a bit of traveling before heading to where I'm supposed to be assigned. My plans got cut a bit short, though." "And I am Brin Harper," the mysteriously veiled woman replies simply. "So where are you in from, Pilot?" "Where've you been assigned?" Hess asks of Myiari, not noticing the narrowing of the eyes of Brin's look. At her question he shrugs slowly, "Ord Grovner. Xim the Despot and the Galactic Seiges is about all we have to our name." Myiari chews on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully before replying, "I've been assigned here on Ord Mantell working with another more experienced doctor for the time being until I get a more permanent placement, but I've considered enlisting in the military as a medic. Haven't really thought it out much just yet." "Well, we're happy to have you both here," Brin replies, flashing an ID as they leave the starport, and enter the station for the transit line. "You've been assigned to the Ghosts?" Brin asks, nodding her head towards Hess's insignia. "I know Kyrin Sh'vani. She's leading the Rogues now, but she /was/ in charge of the Ghosts, for a while..." "That's the patch they stuck in my transfer packet." Hess replies to Brin. At Myiari's explanation of her job he smiles a bit and says, "Well, if you go in for flight training you could become a flight surgeon. Can't ever have enough of those." He then asks of Brin, "What do you do around here?" Myiari grimaces faintly at Hess' suggestion. "Flight training," she mumbles, looking none too enthusiastic about the idea. "I do better as a field medic with a blaster in my hand rather than at the controls of a fighter." You say, "I touched a fighter once. It exploded." "I'm a pilot, myself," Brin explains for Hess. "So it seems Miss Oerstead here is in the minority. I'm just a simple freighter captain, though, who calls Ord Mantell her home, these days." Her accent, however, is clearly not from this region of space. It's deeper, more cultured tones points to something more in Imperial space. Hess nods to Brin, and then smirks a little at Myiari's words, "Fair enough. Suppose the ground pounders need medical help more than us sleek fighter pilots." Myiari smiles wryly, folding her arms over her chest. "Mm. You say that now, but wait until you get into a wreck that might require treatment or surgery of some kind. I don't think you flyboys are totally immune from requiring doctor's visits. I've seen pilots banged up and mangled in all sorts of strange ways." "Yes, but when the flyboys get in trouble, it's more likely to be fatal long before treatment can arrive," Brin points out, just as a transit train pulls up. She waits for a crush of passengers, to disembark, before jumping on herself. "The military base stop comes up pretty fast, heading htis way," she advises Hess. "Hard to miss it, unless you fall asleep." Myiari gazes at the temple grounds in awe, her eyes wide as she takes in the sights. "So this is the Jedi temple," she breathes, her voice hushed as if afraid of disturbing the tranquility of the place. "You sure it's alright for me to stay here for a while? I don't want to be intruding." "What's the worst they can do? Ban me from the grounds again?" Brin asks. Hardly a reassuring comment... "Trust me, it's fine," she states in a more soothing tone. "If Skywalker has issues with it, he can take it up with me. He knows where to find me. If anyone gives you any trouble, ask for him or Johanna Siri te Danaan, and tell them I said it was fine." She takes a deep breath, seeming to enjoy the atmosphere of the Temple, herself. "After a hectic day, though, or a somewhat trying event... there is no where better to come an re-center yourself." Myiari nods her head slightly, seeming a bit tired, but considerably more at ease than before. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Drawing in a breath and releasing it in a soft sigh, she inclines her head upwards staring into the sky. "I think I'll just wander the grounds for a bit. Need to clear my head after all that Sith business..." "Sure thing," Brin replies, before nodding her head towards an office at the foot of the stairs. "I'll go speak with whatever Padawan they have stuck on 'handling the public' duty, and let him know you're to be assigned a room. When you wish to rest, just head in there and they'll show you to a room. I do have to ask, however, that you keep whatever you saw in the starport to yourself, confiding only in any Jedi Knight or Master may be assigned to look into this. I don't think the general public needs to hear about animated corpses wandering the starport..." Myiari offers a tired, yet grateful smile, nodding in reply. "Don't worry about it," she insists with a slight wave of her hand. "I'd rather forget about it if I could. I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them anyway." "I know what you mean," Brin replies a bit wryly. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Oerstead. I hope I have the opportunity to meet with you again. Enjoy your respite, and welcome to Ord Mantell." As strange a welcome as it had turned out to be... Myiari smiles wryly in turn at the comment, inclining her head politely to Brin. "I'll try. It was nice meeting you too." With that said, the blonde woman wanders off further into the temple, seeming quite eager to explore desite everything she's been through.
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