| abstract
| - Just as the azure blur had begun to lose interest in the two conversing aliens, their casual mentioning of the Skywalkers had immediately brought things back into focus. A gentle caress of the female's mind revealed that the pair were well-known and possessed of quite the reputation among other sentient species, including those to which the furred Starborne One belonged—they were called Bothans, yes that was it. It seemed that following the female Bothan and...what was her companion called...had indeed proven to be a prudent course of action. The Bothan's chitin-covered companion seemed to glow with its own unique signature within the Blue, which correlated with how it had described itself as being different from Jedi. But the Skywalkers were no longer on this planet; the blur had watched their departure soon after depositing the Starborne Ones, the assassin machine, and their hidden and undeclared fourth passenger. Why had they come to this place anyway? Why had the Skywalkers departed with such haste? More importantly, why had she even left T'lessia in the first place, going with the Skywalkers and the Starborne Ones on this journey into the complete unknown? The blur then coalesced into the form of a two meter tall woman, clad in a set of simple beige robes cut along utilitarian lines. Her azure skin matched the clear blue skies of Drev'starm. and her intelligent, luminous brown eyes were on the alert for any possible threats. Ari T'Nok was not one to hold a grudge. Even having spent so much time under the tutelage of the late Youngarch hadn't planted that particular fire within her. While she had certainly been eager to learn the more powerful aspects of the Blue...of the Force...she didn't feel particularly dark. Ari had not agreed to follow Pelenora T'Yelc in order to gain power or prestige, or even the title of Youngarch that had been on offer if the plan to eliminate Bellinega T'Ledra had been successful. It wasn't even her plan, strictly-speaking; Pelenora had always kept her own counsel, never inviting another, not even her closest ally, to comment on it or suggest improvements or alternate ways of thinking. Perhaps that was why you ultimately failed, Ari mused to herself as she continued to watch the Bothan and the Gand. She knew that the only reason for her freedom and continued existence was Pelenora's order for Ari to go to ground once she had entered the Foruma Lawyteret in order to challenge T'Ledra, an action that Ari had vehemently opposed. As the days unfolded in the wake of their memorable duel, she had come to realize that what had driven her mentor to such extremes had started out as an honest desire to advance the Sa'ari as a species into the next age of growth. A desire which had been shared by her newly-orphaned pupil. As she pondered these details, the most important question of all slunk its way into Ari's mind: why had she agreed to follow Pelenora T'Yelc in the first place? For eighty-seven T'lessian years the two had been well nigh inseparable, at first working as partners as they performed the lighter's duties of keeping the peace and tracking criminals, then as co-conspirators when T'Yelc had accepted the Eldarch's offer of apprenticeship ten years later. Having formed a tight-knit bond of friendship, together they had plumbed the deepest secrets of the Order of the Blue Light, pooling their respective talents and analyzing everything that Bellinega had had to teach her new protégé. Outwardly, Ari had presented herself as a simple aide, brought into the monastery to assist the new Youngarch in her duties. But as Pelenora faded from public view as she resumed the role of lighter, Ari had put it about that she was on indefinite sabbatical, all the better to remain cloaked in the shadows of Sa'ari society. That was when Pelenora had begun to speak to her of change. At first this talk had consisted of mere abstracts, ways to influence the populace and bring about an end to the stagnation that her people had been mired in. The prophecy had hung over her species' collective heads like the fabled Sword of Gaetaclese; either move forward and risk losing everything, or stay put and watch the world wither away into obscurity and nothingness. As the years went by and the pair worked together to assess the potential of the Sa'ari race, however, Pelenora had begun to bring others to her from across T'lessia. From Tal'adin to Hiltone and every republic in between they had come, and what had started out as a pair of truth-seekers quickly grew into a multi-tiered cabal of like-minded individuals. Though she had never displayed her emotions overtly, even privately when it was just her and Ari together, Pelenora had begun to occasionally exude a sort of manic excitement about the prospects which her group represented. And that was when the blackness had begun to creep into her mentor's soul, Ari realized. Why had she continued to support Pelenora? The simplest and most honest explanation that she could think of was that, in reality, Ari had reveled in the secrecy of it, in the talents she possessed in dissembling, obfuscation, and manipulation that her friend had encouraged her to develop. She was gifted in this area not because she was cold and calculating, as Pelenora herself tended to be, but because she was liberal with her emotions and could make herself believe her own trickery at will, letting the illusion drop when it suited her purposes. For years they had used these talents of hers to whip up an even bigger following, though the organization had wrapped itself tightly within the shroud of respectability which cloaked the Order of the Blue Light. And then one day, Pelenora had come to visit Ari in her quarters, the older woman's brilliant green eyes blazing with a certitude that Ari had never before seen in another being. It was that day that the Youngarch had finalized her plan to topple the Lawyteret and place the Sa'ari people under the sole rulership of a benevolent Order—and, by extension, herself. Ari, having been offered her mentor's former position were this plot to succeed, had eagerly joined in this descent into madness. Finally, satisfied that she had at last answered the question that had been nipping at her scalp nubs like a swarm of young dragonflies, Ari T'Nok began to ponder the rest of them. The first was easy enough: this planet was obviously the homeworld of the furred Starborne One—Silas Dan'kre was...his...name, she recalled—and he probably had family, property, or some other interest that was located here. The other one, Laera Reyolé, had accompanied him because the two were so obviously bonded that a blind lokta bird could have seen their relationship for what it was. So, having fulfilled what they had seen as their roles as dictated by the prophecy, they had left T'lessia behind, left it and the Sa'ari to deal with what would come in their own way—as it always should have been. Why had the Skywalkers left in such a hurry? The necessities of keeping herself hidden had precluded any possibility of eavesdropping; the...starship...was far too small and its crew far too cunning to allow unwanted observation. She would have been found out soon enough and probably killed, or else taken back to Tal'adin City in chains to be called upon to answer for Pelenora's crimes. Knowing nothing about their motivations, this question was considerably more difficult to answer, but Ari dismissed it as irrelevant anyway. What was important was that she had remained here, out from under the Skywalkers' watchful eyes, and able to track Laera and Silas...for what purpose, she wasn't yet sure. This led into her final unresolved question: why she had stowed away on the Skywalkers' ship in the first place. On the surface this was an easy one; she had ran from her homeworld to escape justice the only way she could think of at the time. However, during the surprisingly short voyage to this planet a number of possibilities had occurred to her. Ari was, in some ways, still the curious teenager she had been upon first joining the Order, well before ever having even met Pelenora. She liked to learn, to experience new things, and she had certainly packed a lot of it into the hours since her arrival on Bothawui. The city was not unlike an average T'lessian metropolitan center, though larger than any on her homeworld by far. Instead of the familiar cars and trucks which moved on wheels, every vehicle here seemed to either float on a cushion of air, or else fly high above the city in well-regulated traffic lanes. And the people, the tremendous variety of people, many of whom she had already drawn insight from though they would never know it... But Pelenora's influence had done much to bury that curiosity, as well as to warp her sense of right and wrong. Ari had allowed herself to become a habitual liar, which was considered an aberration among her people, all in the name of some cartilage-brained scheme to rule the world. She realized with a start that a lot of things had begun to come back to her since the Youngarch's death. Chief among these had been her desire to someday join the T'loruk colonization effort, or perhaps even to crew one of the giant sleeper ships that had been close to leaving the theoretical stage of development. That wish had come true, after a fashion; in a way, she was more free now than she had ever thought possible, alone on a world unaware of her presence and abilities, the first of her kind to leave the confines of her species' home star system. Not even the Starborne Ones themselves knew she even existed; they had remained completely oblivious to their stowaway. But what to do with this freedom? she asked herself. Dare I to try and justify what Pelenora did, or else attempt to make amends? I am just as guilty as she was, am I not? After contemplating what she had learned—as well as these new questions—for some time, Ari dissolved once again into a sky-blue blur before leaving her perch in order to track the Starborne Ones down once more. She had a hunch that they were who the Bothan and Gand were looking for, and lending a covert helping hand to the two couples as they sought each other out seemed as good a short-term goal as any. If nothing else, it would give her more time to mull over her next move, whatever that might be. — — — “Excuse me, madam, but we have arrived,” a mild, yet authoritative voice beckoned from a million parsecs away. Laera awoke with a start, as did Silas. Neither had realized that they had fallen asleep, though their guides hadn't seemed to mind. As the last of the guards piled out of the armored landspeeder, Hul'selru poked his head back through the hatchway, a wry smile tickling the edges of his mouth; it was he who had brought them out of their slumber. Exchanging furtive glances, Laera motioned for Silas to go first, surreptitiously indicating that she had his back as she made sure that her lightsaber was still hidden beneath her cloak. The two refugees emerged from the speeder to find themselves in another receiving bay, though this one was considerably smaller and utterly devoid of traffic. “What time is it?” Laera asked as she finished assessing her surroundings. “It is 2341 hours local time,” one of the guards answered curtly, tapping his chronometer. “We are some distance away from the Drev'starm city limits.” “I guess you weren't exaggerating about an off-site vault,” Silas quipped, but the guard ignored him. “Not very chatty, are they?” “They're not paid to be, love,” Laera replied, matching Silas's low whisper. “These are the largest and most secured vaults on all of Bothawui,” Hul'selru declared as he stepped into view once more. “Among the key aspects of security is distance and anonymity, as both of you no doubt realize; as such, the majority of this facility is underground. The most secure vaults are below, while the larger ones, meant to protect bulk items, are at the surface. Yours is our largest, and the only one with access to the outside. Come, and we shall escort you there.” Signaling his trio of guards once more, Hul'selru led the way as Laera and Silas walked through yet more narrow corridors bathed in sterile light. The bare white walls, unnaturally smooth and reflective, were only occasionally interrupted by a simplistic-looking vault entrance. Laera, however, could feel the subtle currents of energy that indicated the presence of sophisticated electronic equipment—possibly including security droids—which hinted at the fact that these simple-looking passageways were anything but. That thought caused her to realize that she had forgotten to communicate this new development with HK-47; an intake of breath beside her meant that Silas had also discovered this. “We'll just have to get a longer-ranged comlink,” Laera whispered, careful to keep her voice low enough so that the other Bothans could not hear. “Either that, or hope that he found a way to follow us,” Silas replied. Their route had had only one turn-off from the corridor leading out of the loading dock, which led to a lateral companionway that had to be nearly a kilometer in length. It did not end in a further intersection or T-junction, as the visitors had expected. Instead, it proved to be a one-way conduit that ended in another of those deceptively simple-looking doors. “We're here,” Hul'selru announced in a low rumble. Outwardly his countenance was calm, but his aura betrayed the excitement he felt at being able to see for himself what was inside. Laera did not begrudge him this feeling, however, for she understood the sentiment and could not detect any duplicity among anyone in the small detail that accompanied them. “Well, I suppose you'd better take us in,” she said, a slight tremble in her voice. At a nod from the manager the nearest guard pressed the back of the DNA scanner, which he had used earlier to confirm Laera and Silas's identities, to a small plate affixed to the center of the door. A soft series of hoots and whistles came from the device, which was echoed by the door itself, and the guard returned it to his pouch. The door hissed slightly as it withdrew vertically into the wall. Two of the three guards entered the small room beyond and began flipping switches, working in a choreographed manner that spoke volumes of the seriousness with which the bank guarded such assets. As they finished, a pair of computer terminals at the other end of the chamber activated and Hul'selru beckoned Laera and Silas to enter. “This last measure was keyed to your specific biometrics,” he explained, pointing each of them to one of the terminals in turn. “Just place your thumbs on the center scanner at the same moment.” Laera and Silas nodded at the manager in acknowledgment, then flashed a three-count signal. At the unspoken marker, they placed their right thumbs on the indicated pads. Absolutely nothing happened. “Oh, please forgive me,” Hul'selru gasped, suddenly distraught. “You are at the wrong terminals; please switch places.” Laera barked out a laugh, then slapped her hand to her mouth in embarrassment before doing as she and Silas had been asked. “Yeah, let's do that.” This time the procedure resulted in a series of beeps, followed by a subtle whirring noise that resonated throughout the room. A sonorous clanking punctuated the process, with the outer door closing and the inner wall vanishing into the floor, plunging the chamber into darkness as the various consoles and keypads shut down. After a few heartbeats a buzzing seemed to fill the air, then row upon row of glowrods began to ignite, emitting a loud, echoing CHUNG! with each activation. The first of them burst into light on the far side of what seemed like the admiral's hangar aboard an Inexpugnable-class tactical command ship, so vast was the space beyond. Stark white light soon flooded the huge vault, gradually illuminating the contents of what could possibly be the largest safety-deposit box in the entire galaxy. The eyes of all present were immediately drawn toward what lay at the center of the vault. Sitting on its landing legs, looking as though it had just come from the factory, the cockpit of an unfamiliar class of light freighter loomed over the inner entrance like a massive predator. The forward hull jutted out from the main body, which flowed back along utilitarian lines that vaguely resembled an extremely thick delta wing. The central compartment was bulged out at top and bottom in a hemispherical fashion, and a squared-off outrigger pod of some sort was attached to the port side. Barely visible due to the relative bulk of the ship was a pair of turrets, one atop the dorsal hull and one along the outrigger pod. Laera wasn't sure, but the weapons they mounted appeared to be paired military-grade laser cannons; along with what looked suspiciously like proton torpedo tubes wedged along the join between cockpit and main hold, this looked to be a heavily-armed vessel indeed. The entire ship was finished in a dull metallic color, with parts of the forward section trimmed in a rusty shade of red in a livery similar to that worn by many Republic warships from the time of the Jedi Civil War. Silas's aura—which Laera suddenly realized had started to blue-shift over the course of the last half day—began to fluctuate with intense excitement as he scrutinized the vessel. “I've never seen a more beautiful ship in all my life,” he practically moaned. “Is she...is she ours?” The bank manager, Laera noticed, was looking back at the near wall, quite obviously looking for something. He soon found it; clearing his throat, he called for his clients' attention. “Apparently yes,” he began, his eyes darting to and fro as he examined a manifest datapad. “This vault was specially-constructed, coded to your DNA and thumbprints and kept at a near-vacuum per the request of the depositor, a Human male whose name...well, this is odd.” Silas, not taking in a word, had begun to run his hands over the ship that now belonged to them. Laera, who was pacing him, glanced around in time to watch one of the guards as he leaned in to help the manager with the datapad. “This thing isn't being very forthcoming,” Hul'selru muttered indignantly, unaware apparently that Laera could hear him with help from the Force. “Blasted piece of junk must date all the way back to the Sith Assault...” Sith Assault? Laera asked herself as she picked up on the older being's use of proper nouns. Why he was speaking in Basic amongst his own people didn't concern her so much as the fact that she had never heard of anyone attempting to invade her lover's homeworld, much less the Sith making any sort of overt moves in that region. Looks like we missed out on more than Luke could tell us... Finally, the manager seemed to give up. “It appears that the name of your benefactor has been expunged from our records,” he said, his neck fur rippling as he continued reading the manifest. “But that isn't important for the simple reason that his instructions—which were quite specific, mind you—greatly benefited our institution in the long run, keeping us solvent through some troubling times. Anyway, in addition to your new vessel, an XS-class stock light freighter, he left you a number of items that he believed you might find useful. These include...two complete sets of fitted heavy assault armor, and several complete sets of Old Republic-issue military blaster pistols, carbines, rifles and heavy ordnance, among other things. It's really quite an extensive inventory of weapons, munitions and provisions, we've got it stored in sealed containers lining the sides of the vault. Within your ship is stored an SP-3c scout landspeeder, a T7-series astromech and utility droid, as well as various sets of civilian attire and enough fuel and preserved food to keep you going for approximately six Standard months. And that's on top of the sum he left for you in an interest-bearing account...” Laera was once again reeling from the impact. Revan had seemed to think that they would pop back out of hyperspace during a time of intense conflict. He had given her—and, for some reason, Silas as well—enough high-powered weaponry to take a small moon by themselves. On top of that, she had never heard of the XS class of freighter nor any kind of speeder with the designation of SP-3c. “Silas, are you hearing this?” she asked him in an undertone as Hul'selru rattled off the details of how they had become immensely wealthy without having to lift a finger. “He's got to be joking...” “He's not,” Silas replied, finally taking a break from fondling their new ship. “I can see the storage lockers, and they look like half the armory from any one of our frontier outposts. His body language...and what I can sense in how he carries himself... There's no way he could be making this stuff up.” “Did you hear him muttering about the datapad?” Laera hissed. “Yes, I—but wait—” Silas, wide-eyed, broke off as the manager concluded his assessment. “So yes, without factoring in the credits you wish to deposit now, that brings your liquid assets to three hundred twenty-seven billion, four hundred sixteen million, one hundred ninety thousand, five hundred eighty-eight credits. Quite a tidy sum I must say, it's our biggest private account by far.” “I'm...sure it helped...quite a lot...” Laera muttered haltingly as Silas nearly choked on his own tongue. The unbridled shock of this pronouncement had wiped her mind as empty as the depths of space; she had to draw upon the Force to keep from hyperventilating. Over three hundred billion credits?! What the kriff are we going to do with that kind of money?! Silence descended upon the vault as Silas and Laera stared into each others' eyes, each of them trying to come to grips with the unveiling of their fabulous new fortune and what it meant for them. Silas's ears were twitching madly, his fur ruffling as though he had been caught in a stiff breeze. Laera was swallowing rapidly and fiddling with her collar, casting her gaze from their new ship to the weapons lockers, the bank manager, Silas, and back again. After several terse moments Hul'selru cleared his throat once again, bringing their attention back to him. “If I may make a suggestion,” he said, nodding indulgently. “Now that you have received your...oh yes, he called it an 'inheritance' here...I am needed elsewhere. My guards can help you load the weapons and armor onto your ship after they've unlocked both it and the lockers, you can liaise with Officer Qwel'dur to facilitate this. He has also been in contact with the spaceport, they have cleared Berth 2-07F for your use until such time as you would care to depart Bothawui.” “How are we supposed to get out of here?” Silas asked, coming to his senses first in the way Laera had long since learned to expect from him—and to love him for. The manager, however, had already begun to leave. With a deft nod, one of the guards retracted his helmet's faceplate to reveal creamy fur and sun-yellow eyes. “I am Officer Qwel'dar, and that will not be a problem. Craz'olan, if you could open the far outer door...” — — — The facility's emphasis on security was obvious to even the most unaware of beings, once they realized what could be inside. Therefore it was simple for Ari T'Nok to deduce that she would do well to avoid following too closely as the Starborne Ones exited the hovercar, in the company of several armed and armored natives. Led by an elder of their species who was dressed in taut, respectable attire, she watched as they made their drowsy way through the loading dock and out of her physical sight. She had had to exert considerable effort and no small amount of ingenuity to keep up with them this far; it had taken a supreme effort on her part to mount the armored vehicle as it had exited the central bank and remain hidden throughout the long journey. It was easy as winecake to track them through the Blue—through the Force—however, and Ari contented herself with sensing their progress from beyond the otherwise innocuous collection of buildings. She did, however, pace the perimeter barrier as they progressed deeper, eventually coming around to face a large, boxy hangar-like structure. A few moments later, a sensation of extreme surprise and awe emanated from within, flashing as brilliantly as a riot-light and almost blinding her mental perception. The intensity of the feelings Ari was sensing eventually abated, and as she watched and waited, she began to pick up on subtle anomalies that floated about Silas like immature buhje flies around a bright light. After an hour of waiting, she thought she recognized something in his essence, but the sensation was interrupted by the grinding of rarely-tended machinery as the hangar entrance was cranked open. Ensconced within was a mighty-looking starship, the kind that evoked far different feelings than had the Jade Shadow, which Ari had glimpsed only briefly from outside before her infiltration back on T'lessia. This vessel was of a much more practical aspect, its utilitarian nature obvious even to the untrained eye. What she could see of its rear portion, where its two large thrust nozzles were located, was bathed in the glow of overhead illumination. Tapping into the Force, she focused her vision in order to peer further inward, catching a glimpse of Laera's back as she ascended a ramp that had descended from the craft's ventral hull. Exercising extreme caution, Ari brushed the mind of the female Jedi Knight, hoping to catch glimpses of their destination; sure enough, her emotionally-vulnerable psyche yielded just enough information to allow Ari to act. Seizing her moment as the ship began to emit a high-pitched whine, she vaulted the perimeter barrier with ease and dashed toward the hangar. Running flat-out with Force-enhanced speed, she dashed through the field of view of any monitoring devices as a barely-discernible bluish haze. As the ship began to lift off from the ground and back slowly out of the hangar she leaped high in the air, landing with a thud atop the left wing between the main hull and a protrusion of some kind that gave the ship a slightly lopsided appearance. Holding onto the upper gun turret for dear life, she grinned like a schoolchild as the craft ascended higher and activated its primary propulsion mechanism. Her simple robes flapping in the wind, Ari roared with delight as her mount accelerated forward like a bullet from a gun, reaching speeds that an Ellipse zoomie would do well to respect from such a comparatively large and less-than-aerodynamic craft A fully-qualified pilot herself, Ari T'Nok had always loved flying...
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)