A Memory of Light (503 ABC)

[Alema Torr]

Republic-flagged transport ship Sanguine, present day​

Taking charge of routine transport inspections was one of Alema's duties, but it was not one that she had been required to do of late. After a brief and flirtatious episode with the halls of power, perhaps her superiors had decided it was time to humble her. At any rate, she had been on inspection duty for a few weeks and she was very nearly freed up from the drudgery. Unfortunately for the sailors of the infamous Carbonite Run, Alema had developed a reputation for exacting and incisive inspections of cargo going to and from the Deep Core.

The Twi'lek officer had cut her teeth in sector customs, so she easily sank back into the routine: go over the checklist with the captain, grill the crew on a few questions, and pop open cargo containers while the naval police made sure he didn't intervene. The Sanguine wasn't much different. She'd detected some nervousness in the captain, but the cargo was supposedly pretty dangerous: a shipment of carbonite stabilizers to the Empress Teta System, and a segregated compartment of tibanna gas from the Outer Rim. If the chemicals mixed, the explosion would probably be visible from Coruscant itself. What struck her as odd was that the ship had come down the Corellian Run, which was awfully far from Bespin and the tibanna-rich gas giants in the Galactic Southwest. Given the risks, it was a long way to go with such a volatile cargo.

Opening the Tibanna chamber wasn't difficult. The captain had given her the wrong codes- something he was sure to blame on a faulty memory -but she was a quick hand at slicing cargo containers. A gas rig like this couldn't be outfitted with military locks without arousing much more suspicion than a missing code, and most inspectors only used the gas-port analyzer. Alema suspected that it would read 99% Tibanna no matter what was in the ship, and she was becoming increasingly suspicious that this captain really wasn't hauling gas.

As the sealed bulkhead door opened, Alema listened for the hiss of pressurization... But as it swung open with only a groan of rusty metal, she saw the reason for the deception. Standing in the center of the room, her eyes wide with fright, was a girl. She couldn't have been older than 14, and her blue skin and pale hair marked her as a Pantoran. Clutched in her right hand was the reason she needed such covert accomodations: a handmade light-saber, its owner too scared to even activate its blade.

Alema shut the door and left the cargo bay. Five minutes later the ship was charging for a jump to hyperspace, its manifest stamped and approved: 200 tons of carbonite stabilizers, and 20 cubic meters of refined tibanna gas.

Through the viewport of her patrolcraft, the Twi'lek watched the aging transport shudder, then recede from view in the blink of an eye. "I kept my promise." She said, and smiled as she reminisced about a time long ago.

The cargo hold of the Brentaal, 10 years ago​

The light of foreign stars spilled through small holes in the roof of the metal shipping container, illuminating the meager pallet that the Twi'lek girl had slept on for almost a week now. She had no expectations of comfort when she spent her savings on a ticket to Coruscant. This was just something temporary, something to endure until she could get a better life.

In any case, it wasn't the ration bars, or the stale water, or even the bed that dominated her thoughts, it was the waiting. Every time they stopped outside a planet and the crew loaded cargo, Alema wondered if they would find her. Once a customs officer had almost opened her container, but he had picked the one next to her instead. She also heard the crew moving around her sometimes, and once they had moved her from one side of the vessel to the other. That was the worst part. One day she feared someone would notice her, and when that day came she wondered what they would do...

...What she didn't know, was that today was that day.

@TheMorrigan

 

[Horus Tempest]

-Music-

10 Years Ago…
Brentaal Cargo Hold
Core Worlds Sector
​

“I’m telling you, this stuff calms you right down. Some of the best I’ve tried.”

“I’m not even going to bother asking how you got that stuff.”

“Any good entrepreneur doesn’t reveal his secrets so easily. You've gotta at least try it first!”

Horus was energized, ready, and a little nervous to get caught. He, their father, and his twin brother, Azran, had come aboard the Brentaal merely a half-hour prior, as their father was assigned a position on the vessel. It was a usual day for an odd job, something the Tempest family usually excelled at. However, since Mulvagh was the only one the ship’s Captain needed, both the young Vahla twins would have the entire week off as a result. Horus, in his youth, had finally been convinced to try smoking from a bubbler in what his twin Azran described as a “hot-box”. Allegedly, it wasn’t smart to smoke in public areas, so the pair immediately set off to find a location they could partake in private. Luckily, the vessel was equipped with a cargo hold filled with various containers. A quick check of the manifest revealed a smaller container on the farther side of the ship, an ideal place to chill and maybe even create a temporary hangout.

“You’ve got the water, right?”

“Obviously. The container’s just up here… keep watch! I’m gonna open it.”

Horus sighed as his brother waved him towards the walkway, peaking gently just over the metal side of the container to see if any security or workers where coming. As expected, none where even close. Most had already loaded and secured their wares here, and now they were simply waiting to arrive. Tapping his foot impatiently, he turned back to see a mischievous lavender glint in Azran’s eye. With a smile and a short, sarcastic bow, the container’s holotag visibly changed from red to green, as the metallic container’s entrance hissed open. Horus clapped his brother on the back, laughing, and they both found themselves about to enter. Before they did, however, Horus felt an odd sensation. He’d felt these sort of things before - he was empathic, like the majority of his race - and this feeling could only be described as fear and flight.

“You feel that?”

“Yea. I sense it too. Stay behind me, Az.”

The young Vahla gently began to open the door, looking cautiously inside to reveal its contents. Perhaps they was a creature inside, but it didn’t seem to be an animal pen of any sort. No. This was something else. Despite himself, Horus found his hands trailing towards the stun baton strapped to his boot. He may not have been allowed to carry his blaster, but he was always prepared. As the door gently creaked open, Horus popped his head in with a simply sentence;

“Uh… anybody there? We’re just here to smoke questionable substances… don’t want any trouble...”

Spoiler: OoC

I have permission to utilize Azran’s younger self for the duration of this thread.

 

[Alema Torr]

Inside the shipping container, Alema cringed away from the light. After so much time in the darkness even the meager cargo-bay lights were harsh on her eyes.

From the outside, the sight was like something out of a bad holovid. The inside of the sealed shipping container had been crudely refitted as a living quarter, but only barely. There was a chemical toilet welded to one wall, a pallet on the floor, and boxes of discount provisions stacked in the back corner. Opposite the iron ration bars and bottles of expired water was a girl. Not just any girl, a Twi'lek. She looked like a mess, wearing a ragged top and baggy sackcloth pants, her body covered in the same pervasive sheen of mechanical grease that lingered everywhere in old spaceships. In the few patches of skin not soiled by they grey-brown substance, she had bright yellow skin with a thick patterning of orange freckles. It was hard to tell how old she was, but she was tall enough to be in her mid teens even if her rail-thin body didn't show it.

The girl looked out at them with wide, frightened eyes. She bared her teeth and scrambled up, causing ration bars to scatter over the floor. To a Force-sensitive pair like the twins, she was a locus of fear and desperation. It was obvious from the manifest that she wasn't supposed to be here, and it was obvious from her appearance that she didn't want to be found. But she was here, and someone had found her, and she was paralyzed by the fear of what they would do about her.

@TheMorrigan

 

[Horus Tempest]

“Shit. By Vahl, how long have you been locked in here?! Azran, go grab a cloth from the Crest.”

“No need. I brought some for us. Also brought lunch. I don’t think I need to let you know that this is bad. Either she’s being kept here, or she snuck on board.”

Horus gave his twin a sideways glance hard before grabbing the container of fresh fruits and meats from beneath his brother’s arm, from where he’d introduced it, and gently began to turn towards the younger woman. A Twi’lek absolutely covered in oil and grease from almost head to toe. From the looks of it she might have even been suffering from space sickness, or maybe suffering from lack of proper healthy food. The container had been almost impressively macgyvered into a makeshift living quarters, save how miserable, dark and drab it looked in here. The girl seemed to be absolutely petrified, but Horus was doing his best to appear non threatening and began to gingerly approach. He had his overcoat on, and two pairs of tunics. He intended to at least give her one, and would probably end up using the overcoat to at least attempt to clean her off. Otherwise he might offer her a shower on the Crest while his Dad was at work. His Dad… would Mulvagh ever agree to taking a stranger in? Things were hard enough as it was, but even if only for a few weeks. The girl would be okay. He’d make sure of it.

”Hey. What’re you doing here? Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I’ve got some food here, and a cloth for that grease, if you’d like. My name’s Horus. Horus Tempest.”

And I’m his better half, Azran Tempest. We’re the Twin Storms! And you’re in luck, sister, because you definitely need an upgrade!”

Horus’ eyebrow raised slightly. Azran was going full blown Azran. At first he was worried his twin would try to turn away to make sure they’d remain out of trouble. But Horus also knew that they shared their caring nature, and this just proved it. From the sounds of it, maybe Azran could even be the one to volunteer telling their father! Though that was likely wishful thinking.

 

[Alema Torr]

"Nu wachami!" She said, unintelligibly in her native tongue. "Wachami... Ji cuna-" She gestured pleadingly, making an all-encompassing swoosh of her hands towards the container cell. "Ji cuna joba mucha. Ji cuna Vim, cuna... Aqua?"

From the second she started babbling, she began to realize they had no idea what she meant. But she barely spoke Basic, and she needed them to listen to her. They didn't seem like they were going to turn her in, and they were too young to be slavers, but she had to make them understand her predicament. "No hurt! No... I give you what you want. I give credit. Vim bar." She stepped forward on shaking legs, her arms held out placatingly towards the pair. "No tell..." She thought around for the word. "No pilot. No cahgo-man. Ji noba pass. No pass." There was more she could have promised away, but even now she had more pride than that. She just hoped these two understood enough to get her out of this situation.

@TheMorrigan

 

[Horus Tempest]

-Music-
​

Of course, as not entirely anticipated but hardly surprising, the Twi-lek began to desperately try to convey something in her native tongue of Ryl. Luckily for her, they’d been to Ryloth before during one of their father’s regular delivery runs for supplies. Horus himself wasn’t fluent, but he could get the gist fairly well. There was another way he could attempt to communicate with this girl. But he’d have to be careful - it was still an unrefined ability, and he could only communicate using his budding connection to the Force between very close individuals. It was a small trick their father had taught them, so if they got in trouble, they could converse without being heard. Giving the woman a smile, Horus sat down and gently shook his head at the mention of the words he recognized in her tongue. Azran seemed to awkwardly reach for the back of his hair and found a seat himself, setting up the bubbler. As Horus began to reach deep within himself to draw forth what little guidance he could give his abilities, his twin shot him a hard look. He ignored it.

’Do not worry. We will not hurt you. We’re here to help.’

To the younger woman’s surprise, she would feel a gentle and lingering sense of calm just barely touch her senses, as a new and unfamiliar voice spoke directly into her mind. It wasn’t difficult - the girl wasn’t a Force Sensitive, and Horus wasn’t trying to break into her mind, only deliver his words. Because of his connection to the Force, his voice was gentle and soft, using his empathy to continue monitoring the rylothian. If she appeared startled or hostile, he’d withdraw. The girl would also notice something else - his eyes began to very, very faintly glow in their native amber color, as the color started to drain from his already pale complexion. Azran placed his hand on his twin’s shoulder, shaking his head hard. Horus realized why - this sort of thing was very draining. Not to mention that if Horus wasn’t careful, any Force Sensitive could pick up on his presence, faint though it was. Their father would undoubtedly have realized what was happening, as he felt the stern presence gaze upon him, but it disregarded the pair for the time being.

“Father is here.”

“Was here. Temporarily, he’s obviously still busy. Do ohk Horus Tempest. Ish ohk sei… uhm... burihnesa… Azran.”

-Music-
​

As he attempted to speak Ryl, he motioned to the two of them, reintroducing himself and his twin. This would be interesting, with the language barrier. It might be hard figuring out why she was here in the first place, unless they could get a translator. As the trio sat inside the metallic container, the entire vessel gave a monotonous hiss, almost like it was slowing. The artificial gravity seemed to prevent anything noticeable. The speaker system blared to life announcing an incoming ship. Nothing overtly concerning. With one exception. Horus was beginning to feel uneasy. Cold.

Afraid.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why.

 

[Alema Torr]

The Twi'lek girl calmed down almost immediately as the presence of the boy washed over her. It was something she recognized from her childhood. The village mystic, an elderly woman with a kind smile, often spoke to the children in their thoughts when they were ailing, soothing them through the fog of fever. It was something her clan referred to as the Wachi-Juni, an archaic Ryl phrase meaning "Wind-Voice," and it was considered auspicious whenever someone developed such a talent.

Whatever these boys meant for her, it would change things. That was a soothing portent for the girl.

"Ji sun Alema, e chama Torr." She gave her formal name to them. Alema, Clan Torr. Even though their Ryl was bad, she found herself instinctively giving them a proper greeting. Her lekku shuddered and flopped as she canted her head to and fro to intimate to them her intentions- something that was, unfortunately, probably lost on the boys. Still, it showed she was growing more confident in their presence.

<<Where are we? I'm going to Coruscant.>> She told them in Ryl. Then, with an almost preternatural sense of impending danger, she asked a different question: <<Are we docking soon? The engine sounds changed.>>

@TheMorrigan

 

[Horus Tempest]

«Well, good to meet you Alama.»

It seemed like the girl, Alama, was warming up to the pair of them. Horus sat, calmly, opening the basket meant for the twins and taking out a piece of bread and some water. He also grabbed a towel from Azran as his brother started setting up the bubbler and packing it. Wasn’t exactly the best time but Horus knew better than to call him on it, he was likely stressed. Whatever this strange sensation was, it washed over both of them. He noticed Alama’s lekku move in a strange way, and recognized it was meant to symbolize something. Emotional status maybe? A greeting? The Vahla was not yet so well versed. As the girl asked where they were, and whether they were arriving to Coruscant, his eyebrow raised. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case, it seemed another ship was docking ours. However, Horus was convinced he’d be able to get the Crest and fly it for the whole five hour journey to the surface. Wouldn’t have been the first time he and Azran and flown while their father was attending to work, especially when their shifts where already complete. [/I]

“Oh my… you’ve gotta try this man...”

“Pack me one then.” «No, we’re being docked by another ship. It might be refueling. We could take you today, if you wanted?»

The teen Vahla passed his newfound friend the towel and some water, so that she could clean some of that stuff off. He meant the offer, obviously, smiling gently as he waited for her reply, biting into his piece of bread. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder and was handed the bubbler. It was glass, hardly ornate, but it worked. Raising it to his mouth, Horus gently began to inhale until the smoke reached his tongue. Following that, he pulled the remainder, tasting the spritz of earthy greens. It calmed him right down, and almost made him feel revitalized from his utilization of the Force earlier. It was obviously not so beneficial, but to him it didn’t really matter. Handing it back to Azran, he shook his head gently and exhaled away from the pair.

 

[Alema Torr]

Alema listened to him slowly. He was actually pretty good at Ryl, and after hearing his emotions in her heart she didn't really need to have the emotional context that a Twi'lek would have provided. As she considered their offer, and watched them settle down together, the girl wiped off her face and began nibbling at the offered bread. She understood that the more boisterous boy's intentions were good, or at least naively optimistic. She watched the drug-smoke float into the air with a furtive glance between the boys, weighing her decision to trust them.

<<Yes>>

Her answer was unconditional. She couldn't help but smile, her eyes lighting up. <<Please, just let me get my things. Can you really take me?>> Despite her earlier fear, she was letting hope overtake her. The chance to leave the ship and its dark crate was too much for her to ignore. She rushed back and grabbed a nearly-empty knapsack. Without much care for packing, she shoved Vif rations and water bottles into it, filling it to the brim before wrenching the strings tight and tying them off. Judging by the contents of the cargo container she had little beside the food and water to speak of, but that didn't seem to bother her.

As soon as she was ready she scrambled up to the boys, her overfilled bag looking comical on her malnourished frame. <<Where's your ship?>>

 

[Horus Tempest]

Alama was clearly calmed, friendly and interested now. Her response was a clear and simple affirmative that caused Horus to smile gently. He glanced over at his brother, who nodded and collected their things as Horus stood up and brushed himself off. It had only been a day or so since he’d last flown, and their father wouldn’t have any issue with them heading out for a few hours so long as they made it back alright and kept the ship in one piece. The freighter was basically their home, so if the Crest got damaged, the twins would certainly be in trouble. Though that was highly unlikely to happen.

«Our ship is a corridor or two down. Not far.»

“Horus. I guess we’re flying her in, then?”

“You can fly this time. I’m getting really strange vibes right now…”

Horus waited while Azran and Alana collected their things, nibbling on a piece of cheese ashe did so. Once they had finished and ready to go, Horus nodded towards the door and would begin to guide them towards the Winter’s Crest. As they exited the shipping container, the Vahla’s eyes began to scan for security. Surprisingly, the one guard at the entrance of the storage bay was not at his post, with the door itself being wide open. Strange. He turned to look back at Azran, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Both twins began to draw their blasters.

“Boys. Get to the ship, and get off this thing if you can. An imperial patrol just stopped on board… they’ve got an adept with them. Me and Kero will come to you”

“Already moving. Be careful.”

Horus’ eyes widened as their commlink activated, their father’s gravely voice warning them that by chance, Imperials had found the ship. To Alama this likely wasn’t a huge issue, but to the Vahla it was a big problem. Every Vahla was born force sensitive, and as such a Sith would likely have the ability to sense their presence. Being force sensitive usually meant being dragged to Moraband for training - willingly or otherwise. Horus wasn’t willing to let that happen to him, his twin, or his little sister. His blaster’s setting switched from stun to kill, as he exited the room, informing Alama of the situation as his pace began to speed up. Almost to accentuate the situation, the security guard aforementioned lay either stunned or dead at the beginning of the corridor.

«We need to hurry. Imperials. They can’t find us, or you.»

 

[Alema Torr]

Alema followed the boys out into the ship, her bare feet hardly making a sound on the metal deck plating. It was easy for her to understand the severity of being caught, given that she was sneaking a ride in a cargo crate to begin with. However the mention of Imperials made her lekku stiffen and her eyes narrow.

The trio rushed through the halls until they came upon the body of the guard. Seemingly unfazed by the sight, or resorting to a more basic desire to survive, she stopped quickly to pull free the spacer's vibro-knife from his belt. <<Slavers?>> She asked, her eyes narrowed and the blade clutched in a white-knuckled grip. She had heard the Empire desired slaves, but they couldn't have known she was there. Was it the boys they were after?

<<We need to find your ship.>> She gestured wildly to emphasize the point as the sound of stomping boots echoed from far behind them.

"Hey! There's something here!" A cry sounded from the cargo bay. Another voice, tinny from the sound of a voice changer, replied: "A stowaway. Find them, and lock down the rest of the crew."

 

[Horus Tempest]

-Music-​

«Worse. They’ll capture us, or kill us if they find me and my brother. My dad is heading to our ship - we’ll get you planetside. Just stay close.»

“Horus! This guard’s dead. We’ve got incoming!”

Horus sighed as Azran knelt down to inspect the remains of a guard with a blaster hole bored into his chest. That was surprising - they hadn’t heard blaster fire… unless that wasn’t a bolt that caused the laceration. Azran, however, was correct - Sith soldiers, just a pair, turned to walk down the walkway after calling out, seemingly recognizing the work done to the security. Neither Vahla hesitated, as Horus stumbled out appearing injured. As both soldiers raised their weapons before calling to him, Horus dropped to the ground and opened fire on the first, hitting him square in the visor. Azran was seconds later, popping out from cover and firing as he beckoned the Twi’lek to follow. The second soldier dropped like a sack of bricks beside his ally, and none of them could afford to stop moving. Horus’ mind and heart raced in tandem as he led them hastily through the first corridor, and then the second, narrowly avoiding another pair of soldiers in the process.

“That sound… plasma?”

“Dad!”

As the trio turned the corridor which led to the now open hangar, their ship awaiting, they would find themselves mere feet from a duel between two warriors. One wielded a fierce crimson blade, the other a simple vibrosword, but both seemed locked in equal skill. Their father, Mulvagh, swung wide with his sword before trying to impale his opponent, thin desperation in his eyes. Both twins saw why. Their youngest, Kerowyn, was unconscious behind the crimson bladed warrior, with Sith soldiers approaching. The elderly Vahla shot a look their direction, his eyes barely breaking concentration at noticing Alama, before roaring at them to get on board and continuing his bout, blades clashing and partying against one another, and any surfaces nearby.

«GO, GO!»

«Run, Alama!»

The ship’s doors where opened. All that needed doing was entering the thing. Unfortunately, as Horus was approaching the entrance, a strange and dark tendril of energy snatched at his foot and pulled him to the ground. He turned on his back to see the dark warrior raising his hand. Horus knew this was the Force, and before he had a chance to try and muster whatever tiny defense he could the Sith launched a durasteel beam at him. Azran grabbed his arm and pulled Horus up - fast enough to avoid being impaled. However, the steel did gash across his cheek before embedding itself into the ship.

 

[Alema Torr]

Alema clutched the vibro-knife tightly as she ran after the boys. In the face of the soldiers it seemed like no weapon at all, but the boys with her seemed to have enough courage for the three of them. As they blasted the Sith soldiers she didn't hesitate to run, but the sight of the Force-wielder made her blood run cold. She froze in the hallway as the boys ran past her, her eyes locked on the battle unfolding before her.

<<GO! GO!>>

The sound of the boy's shout snapped her to attention and she bolted, running for the ship's door as fast as she possibly could. But suddenly a tendril of dark energy whipped out at one of the boys, and the Sith turned his attention to her saviors. <<NO!>> She screamed, turning for a moment to see if he was alright.

The girl backpedaled, making for the open door of the ship but keeping her eyes fixed on the scene. <<We can't leave him...>> She said, thinking aloud. It wasn't something she was sure if she could stop, but she didn't want to let the man fighting for them be stranded on the ship.