Ask The Path to Balance: Humility

[Izel Thral]

Izel nodded along with what Izel said, her aura starting to swarm with a certain and approval and pride in her apprentice. He was learning. "So you're starting to see how they see," She said as she continued her work. "Life presents many challenges to those not gifted in the ways we are. The trials they face can be so immense and all encompassing that they lose hope. They don't think they're capable of doing anything to create change, because how can they change everything around them? Unable to see the flow of the Living Force, they become lost in their despair. They settle for what they think they can do, and convince themselves that they are not unhappy. There are many with great potential whom will never realize it because they are afraid to try. That is our duty, to uplift others and help them see the strength they already possess, and the effect they can have on the universe around them."

Once the cleaning was finished she sat down facing her Padawan. "We know that one person can make a difference. So continue to be something the others can aspire to. Persevere in the face of adversity, and be encouraging to those around you. Help them discover their own strength." There was a certainty in Izel's words that was unshakable. The Force was after all deeply connected to life. When it grew and thrived, so did the Force. So it was of course the will of the Force for life to improve wherever it reached, and continue to expand. They were Jedi, instruments of it's will, and they would help life here to thrive.

Over the following days Izel would continue her own work in the camp, bringing word of their peace with the miners. It would be surprising to many of them at first. Some were even angered that the olive branch had been extended at all. But over time, the animosity between the guilders and non-guilders would start to break down. Slowly but surely. All the while Izel would keep a close eye on Isen as well, to see what progress he was making.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

The padawan took Izel Thral's words to heart. He also did as he promised he would do to Deej. He worked above and beyond. He cleared his quota and then helped the others fills theirs and putting whatever extra he earned in their own shares. The guildies that he was working...for, not with...started to really appreciate Isen. They got to know and understand his dry wit. They came to know that Isen didn't laugh or even crack a smile at his own jokes. And, Isen got more comfortable around them as well.

Even Deej started to come around and some of the iciness that Deej had always shown Isen started to melt. Every so often, even after all the quotas were filled and whatever Isen was able to pull from the mine was bonus, the Kiffar would pretend to need help, get one of the members of Deej's team to give him some aid. They would go after the mine with a fury for a while, and more work would be done. Deej's group was quickly surpassing all the other teams with their numbers, and the foremen were starting to be very vocal about the job Deej's group was doing to the other crews. That was all well and good, but the tensions were starting to mount between the other crews and Deej's crew.

One crew, led by a rather sour Devaronian, gave Deej's crew a good tongue-lashing, much like Deej did to Isen when they thought he was working too hard. Deej and the Devaronian had words. Several crews stood by and watched the argument while Isen kept working away. Deej came back from the conversation and said, "Bah, now what?"

Isen stopped, wiped the sweat from his brow and said with a knowing look, "Remember what I did when you told me the same thing?"

The rest of of the crew started laughing at Deej. They were thinking about Isen wiping the floor with them, but Deej knew exactly what he was talking about. "You started working double time just to piss me off."

Isen nodded and said, "And are you better off for it now?"

Deej looked over his shoulder to where the Devaronian's crew was doing the bare minimum. "I don't know anymore."

The Vodran stood up for Isen and said, "Come off of it, Deej. We're so close to a promotion. We'll be transporting soon. Screw these guys."

Isen looked at the Vodran and sighed. "Not screw these guys. They are your coworkers. We should hope for the best for them. But that doesn't mean we can't force their hand. I vote we all come in tomorrow, go full throttle, fill our carts, take them to the top, come back for more, and fill them again. Force that horned rancor to have a reaction. Anger or inspiration, doesn't matter. They called us out, and I for one don't cower when someone challenges me."

The Nikto glowered at Isen and said, "Are you calling me a coward?"

"No," Isen said. "Well, not yet. I'll know tomorrow." Isen shut his mouth and got back to work without waiting on the Nikto's response.

The next day, Isen joined his crew and Deej was waiting for him with his arms crossed. Deej never got there that early. "Ok, kid. We'll do it your way. But if another crew tries to jump our ass, you have to whip them like you did us."

The slightest hint of a smirk tipped off Isen's emotion to that. He nodded and started his work. The rest of the crew really hammered into the mines as well. The constant and ongoing clanking of work caused many crews to pop in and watch the group going at it tirelessly. Some of them were jeering at them. Some even threw trash at them, but the team kept working. The Devaronian snarled and griped to his team all day. When they turned in their numbers for the end of the day, Deej's crew had done twelve times more than the next closest group. The foreman put the numbers on the big board, and he double and triple checked the Nikto's crew. He scratched his head, but put the number up.

As the crews were putting their equipment away, the Devaronian and his crew approached Deej all at once. Deej's crew was behind him as well, but they weren't the scrappers of the crew starting the confrontation. "You think you're real funny, huh, Deej? Trying to make a fool of me, huh?"

Deej stood his ground and shook his head. "Nah, you called me out. I was showing you I'm not a coward."

The dark brown Devaronian cracked his knuckles and chuckled. "Well, maybe you should have been."

Deej pointed with a thumb over his shoulder toward Isen. Isen was sitting up on a cart with his elbows on his knees, eyeing the Devaronian. "Your crew can take me easy-peasy, but that kid...I don't know what to tell you. I don't think there's a crew here that can take him."

The horned man looked and made eye contact with the Kiffar. Isen was perfectly stoic. He wasn't trying to be intimidating, but his complete lack of emotion when he was just thrust into a possible physical confrontation was unnerving. Isen's eyes locked on to the Devaronian's and followed them everywhere. Every time that horned-man looked up, Isen was still staring at his eyes. He was basically daring him to fight. Isen didn't want to fight, mind you, but he knew that this guildy would respond to a willingness to scrap. Plus, the legend of some kid that whipped Deej's crew was growing by the day. By this time, there were rumors that he was a vicious young criminal that had escaped one of the prison colonies on Kiffex. Privately, Isen thought that story was hilarious.

Deej was giving high fives after the Devaronian left them alone. Isen would not reciprocate. "We need to do it again tomorrow."

One of the humans in Deej's crew started whining. "Oh, come on, Isen! We made our point. We aren't scared, etcetera and so on. You have any idea how sore we'll be in the morning? We'll be in no condition to work hard again tomorrow!"

Isen shot back with a sharp tongue. "Do you have any idea what he will tell the other crews if we don't come back strong tomorrow? He'll tell everyone he won the meeting today. He'll tell everyone that he scared Deej and his crew into going back to business as usual. I don't know about you all, but I would rather my reputation be built on the idea that I work too hard and I'm too stubborn to listen than I tuck tail and run every time I get talked down."

The moaning and whining was so annoying to Isen. He hated whining, and the mines were full of it. The miners needed something to pass the time if they weren't going to work, and whining was the primary way to kill it. But, they knew he was right. Isen gave them some of his own rations and told them to buy some ice and to take an ice bath when they get home. Again, he called out their manhood if they complained about it. The next day, they hit it hard again. And the next day and the next day. The miner's guild was starting to splinter. Some of crews started trying to keep up because they wanted to get promoted out of the mines and the bar had been significantly raised. Other crews contemplated drastic measures such as violence and sabotage in order to keep the status quo of doing as little as possible to get by. Deej had unwittingly stepped into a leadership role for those that were working hard, and the Devaronian (Isen came to know his name was Hardume) was vocally leading a rather nasty group of crews promoting the low workrate crews.

Things were coming to a fever pitch. Isen had been telling Izel the going's on, but when one of the cart wheels came loose on one of the hardworking crew's cart and collapsed on a miner's leg and put him out of commission for a while, the threat of real violence between the factions was a very real possibility.

That night, Isen told his master what had happened and his fear about what the consequences could be. "I don't want there to be violence, Master. If there is, it will largely be my fault. If I had never pressed Deej's crew to start working alongside me, this would never have escalated to this point." Isen sighed and shook his head. "And if fighting breaks out, I'm not sure what I should do."

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

It had been quite some time since they came to Zugga's Canyon. Much of the settlement's tents had been replaced with cheap housing. The rise in productivity had helped turn the place into a booming town. Izel had managed to leverage her position as a leader among the non-guilders into a better job, setting up and running a club for the settlement's workers on their off hours. A place for food, drink and various games. It had been immensely successful, and gone into helping her and Isen make their way into staying in a proper house. A very small one of course, but it was definitely a step up.

As it happened everyone wanted to work in Zugga's Canyon now, and the population was jumping by dozens every day. Izel noticed the growing tensions as well. Those that didn't appreciate the change, those that didn't like having to keep up with the newly set pace, settled for making trouble instead. The Vratix wasn't surprised that things were no different in the mines. She sat quietly in the main room of their small home with Isen, listening to his troubles. She didn't respond to him immediately. Her gaze remained turned down for several long moments, antennae twitching as she tried to think.

"I can't believe the Guild has been allowing this to go on..." She said, shaking her head. "You would think they'd step in once their workers start getting hurt..." She looked at her apprentice. "You are right to try and seek other paths before violence, and I believe we may have alternatives yet. Tell Deej and his crew to cover for you tomorrow. You and I are going to look into this little 'accident' with the cart. If we can prove it was sabotage, the Guild will have no choice but to take action against Hardume and his ilk."

In honesty she wasn't sure if they would 'have no choice' but if they could find proof Izel had every intention of spreading the word of the Devaronian's cowardly tactics all over Zugga's Canyon. That would deal a blow to Hardume's reputation, and force a more personal confrontation between him and the Jedi. That way they could guide the conflict to a more desirable conclusion. Izel would join Isen the next day for a bit of sleuthing.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

Isen made sure he was the first one at the check in. He even beat the foreman. He needed to talk to Deej before Deej had a chance to escalate the tensions which were already at a fever pitch. The old hats got more and more upset as they kept getting passed over again and again for promotions out of the mines by younger crews with less experience. The hard-working crews were getting more and more frustrated with the the old hats because they felt like they were on the verge of really turning things around, but the old way of doing themselves threatened the prospects for growth . It was old versus young, wily veterans versus up and comers. Lazy versus hard-working. Apathy versus the dreamers.

But the dreamers were still outnumbered by the old hats, and the guild leaders were siding with the old ways of doing things. The drastic differences in production between the crews had created disruptions to the guild's negotiations with the mining company. As union bosses tend to do, they approached the mining company for raises, but as expected, the company wanted to start paying based on production, not experience. They guild could never go for that, and there were rumblings that many of the hard-working crews may leave the guild and try their hand at directly negotiating for wages and benefits.

It would have killed the mining guild for that mass exodus to occur, and that was the reason for the speculation that the old hats, maybe even the guild itself, was behind the sabotage to the cart that caused the enemy.

When Deef arrived, he was amped and ready to fight. Isen had to at least try to simmer him down. Telling him that he wouldn't be working today might do the trick.

"Not working? And why not? The riot could happen today!" Deej yelled.

"We don't know who sabotaged the cart. We have to let this pla..."

"The hell we don't! They went after one of our guys, we have to answer today!"

Isen shook his head. "No, no we don't. We need to get all the facts. You have the moral high ground now. You can lose it real fast."

Bah! I'm not worried about your moral anything," Deej said. "We're going to fight today!"

"No," Isen said. "You're going to fight. I won't be there to help. And you'll be outnumbered. You'll be embarrassed and they will intimidate many in our camp to join theirs out of fear."

Isen stared at Deej. The things that Isen had said more or less had come true. If Isen said he wouldn't be there, right, wrong or indifferent, he would be there. And if he predicted coming up short on the wrong end of a bloodbath losing much of their work support out of fear, Deej felt compelled to listen.

Once Deej agreed to try to hold off on the violence, Isen left and went to meet Izel Thral. When he arrived at the determined spot, he found Izel Thral waiting on him. He explained Deej's position and the advice that he gave. After the brief update he asked his master, "Now then, how do we find out what happened to that cart?

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

"Things are escalating even more quickly than I feared..." Izel muttered in response to Isen as they made their way into the mine. The Vratix, not being a miner, drew some glances from the other workers. Already the old hats were getting suspicious of her presence. "A riot... We'll need to act quickly..." She glanced over her shoulder at Isen. "That being said, you're getting quite good at talking your way around these things. Well done Pa-" She stopped as a group of miners brushed past them. "Pal...?" She awkwardly corrected herself, trying to keep up the act. She had to be more careful, words carried far in these tunnels, and you never knew who was listening in.

When the young Kiffar asked how they were going to discover what happened to the cart Izel gave him an amused look. "Isen..." She started, her tone making it out as though the answer ought to be obvious. "Your psychometry?" She reminded the Padawan. It was a talent they could make great use of here. Of course they would still need to find physical proof or a confession, but this would be an excellent way to get a lead. As they came to the spot where the accident had occurred, the Vratix stepped aside and gestured for her apprentice to take the lead.

"After you detective." She said with a light chitter, then leaned in and spoke more quietly as she looked around. "Just be subtle about it." While the Padawan worked his magic Izel would stand close by, keeping an eye out for any unwanted guests. They would need to be quick though. The guilders were giving them dirty looks. They were in the old hats' territory here, and it seemed their skulking wouldn't be tolerated for long.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

Isen had to suppress a smile as she almost called him padawan in front of the miners. Isen didn't know how likely it was that one of the miners would recognize the term, but it was an unnecessary risk. At the very least, they would be confused by it and quite possibly start asking questions. But when she said they would his psychometry to find out what happened, he was a little shocked. He had practiced the skill of course, but the last time he tried using psychometry on a mission, he picked up a Dark Side cultist weapon to read it, and that was a big no-no with significant consequences. He didn't expect Izel to throw him back into the fire with it.

The padawan nodded and said, "Makes sense." They kept walking further into the mines and she told him to be subtle about using his power. He simply told her that he would try his best.

Isen led Izel down one of the long shafts that gave way to a large room with a lot of used or broken tools. Old droids that were no longer in use were thrown down here. It was essentially a metal junkyard a hundred feet or so below the ground. People shuffled in and out, but it wasn't uncommon to find someone rummaging around, looking for a diamond in the rough they can refurbish and sell or looking for a spare part on a tossed away droid. If Isen could find his cart, using his power wouldn't look too much out of place. It would appear as if Isen was just giving it a good inspection...or so he hoped.

Isen figured that the cart would be down here. It was broken after all, and spending the money to have it fixed was not worth it. It would be cheaper to just buy another chunk of metal on wheels. There were several carts in the junkyard, and after checking out several of them, Isen found the one he was looking for. He recognized the large dent in the side of the cart where it had crashed to the ground and the number on the cart corresponded with the track where the cart in question tipped over and hurt the miner.

Isen gave a look around to see if anyone was watching. He took a breath and nodded to his Vratix master. "Let's give it a go." Isen went to one knee, put his hand on the cart and tried to read the cart's past. Isen's sight was immediately blinded by white light and all he could see were the images in his mind, seeing the history of the cart in reverse. Isen still had a ways to go to master this skill. The images were often blurry or ran in reverse so quickly that he couldn't see what happened. He struggled to get clear frames or to focus in on specific times.

Several times, he sped right by the event too quickly to get a read on what happened. He was growing more and more frustrated and had to start and restart several times. Finally, he got the image he needed. Early in the morning of the accident, before most of the crews arrived, a stabilizing pin was pulled from the brake lever of the cart. Hardume the Devaronian ordered one of his lackeys, a Gran by the name of Kagoe, do the deed. Apparently, Kagoe got through with the sabotage just in time, because instead of appropriately discarding the pin, he was forced to slide it into a small pocket in his work boot as other crews filled the mineshaft. .

Isen shook the cobwebs out and his eye vision started to come back into focus. He told Izel what he had seen. The sabotage was real and Hardume was behind it. "There is no way of knowing if Kagoe remembered to toss the pin," Isen said. "But if he didn't, he has the physical evidence in his boot right now."

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel kept watch while Isen used his power to ferret out the truth of the accident. There were a few other miners moving through the junk room, occasionally giving the pair curious looks. Izel put on a show of looking like she was rooting through the refuse as well, looking for useful parts, while still keeping a watch over the onlookers through the corner of her eye. Thankfully none tried to question them, probably because they were aware of Isen's reputation as a dangerous brawler.

When her Padawan communicated what he had learned the Vratix stood up and crossed her arms, mandibles clicking and antennae twitching as she thought of what their next move should be. "If he has half a brain he'll have gotten rid of it by now..." She reasoned in a low voice, still being cautious to hide their intentions. "We need to make sure he still has it, then we can confront him in the open, get him talking and catch him in a lie..." And of course a little nudge with the Force was always good for loosening lips. But finding the pin was the real challenge. It wasn't as if they could just search him for it. And they couldn't strongarm him into confessing either, as he was likely to be protected by his fellow guilders.

From what she'd seen of Isen's psychometry his skill with the ability still left much to be desired. He couldn't find the memory he needed without prolonged contact with the object, so he couldn't just brush past the Gran in the tunnels and learn what he needed to from him that way. Trying to sneak into his tent at night didn't sound particularly appealing either, far too great a risk.

"We should probably tail him for a bit... Find out when he's vulnerable enough to get close and get the information we need..." She said. But of course, that was easier said then done. Everyone knew Isen and the Gran certainly would get suspicious if the Kiffar started following him around. And she'd fare no better at blending into the background. Finally she nodded to her Padawan. "Patience. Fill in your crewmates, those that you trust not to lose their heads or gossip. I'll talk to my friends as well. We'll keep a dozen different eyes on him, and when he lets his guard down we move in to get what we want." Perhaps not the best plan, but it was the best she could manage at this point. If Isen had any ideas of his own she would hear them out and take them under consideration, otherwise she would move to go about her day. She would let Rus and some of her other smarter associates know to keep an eye out for the Gran. The employees at the club were advised to get him drunk and talking if he came by. Custodians were informed to keep an eye out for any discarded parts around the camp and bring them to the Vratix. They would catch him sooner or later, it was only a matter of time. Of course with things the way they were, she really hoped it would be sooner rather than later...

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

The plan was easy to understand. Where Isen would be tested would be keeping the the new hardworking faction from starting an all-out riot when they found out Isen knew for sure it was sabotage. That, and Isen would have a tough time explaining how he knew that Kagoe took the pin. He couldn't very well tell them that he read the history of the cart down in the junkroom.

When he met with his crew, all he could play was the "trust me" card. He told them he knew but couldn't disclose how he came across the information. Of course, Deej was ready to rip into some heads immediately, but Isen had to calm the nerves.

"We don't have proof. We must have proof," Isen said. "If we don't have proof and we start a war with Hardume, the guild will have no choice but to fire us."

"This ain't about our jobs, Buddy-boy," Deej shot back. "It's about the principle of the matter. It's about justice!" The rest of the crew thought he had a point. And truth be told, so did Isen.

"Where is the justice in you getting fired and Hardume and his crew getting promoted to transport?"

Deej just sort of snarled. He knew Isen was right. By getting all of the hardworking crews fired, it would be rolling out the red carpet for Hardume and his top boys to get the promotions down the road. That irked Deej more than not getting to bust some heads. Isen told them the game plan. Keep your distance, don't do anything to draw suspicion, but follow Kagoe and keep an eye on him. See if he would give anything away or reveal some sort of weakness, some sort of opportunity to pressure him into giving himself up...or trick himself into incriminating himself.

For several days, they all did their part, and for several days they came up empty. But one day, after lunch, the Vodran of Deej's crew came to Isen with an interesting tidbit- for four days straight, Kagoe slipped away at lunch and instead of spending his rations on lunch at the mess tent, he slipped away to a tunnel that the company had given up. There, Kagoe bought spice and used it before going back to work after his lunch break.

That night, Isen checked in with Izel to see if any of her contacts had anything. If not, Isen thought this piece of information may be the ticket to getting what they needed out of the Gran. Using the mining equipment under the influence was not only a fireable offense, but if the company found out, they would see you arrested. Isen thought the situation had some merit.

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel was desperate to find a way to prove Kagoe's guilt as quickly as possible. Not only for the sake of justice, but for the sake of avoiding further harm to anyone. The new bloods were getting rowdier and rowdier, more defiant, refusing to take the old hats' bullying. There had been fights, and now folks were starting to move in gangs and carry weapons on them wherever they went. Zugga's Canyon felt like it was on the brink of a civil war. But the more she learned about the Gran the more conflicted she became. As it turned out he visited the club quite often to drink. While he never outright admitted to what he had done, he moped an awful lot, clearly feeling guilt over his actions. He seemed scared. It was likely Hardume had really leaned on him to do the dirty deed. Isen's revelation only made it clear to her how bad his mental state must have been. The Vratix just sat back and sighed as she conferred with her Padawan.

"Well this sounds like our opportunity, I'm just not sure how we should go about this..." She said, scratching at her cheek thoughtfully. "The way things are, once folks find out what Kagoe has done they'll want to string him up." She puzzled it over silently for a few long moments before looking back at Isen. "We'll get what we need then give him the chance to run. I don't want him here for whatever comes next. If he ended up getting hurt I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. You just keep a lid on things for now. I'll have this all sorted soon enough." Someone had to keep the riots from breaking out after all.

From there Izel would make the necessary preparations to prove Kagoe's guilt, going into town and picking up a holorecorder. Afterwards she would make her way to the tunnel Isen had indicated. Sure enough the Gran showed up right on time, skulking into the darkness to get his fix. Izel remained hidden, activating the recorder and getting footage of him doping up. Afterwards, as he was stumbling back out of the tunnel the Vratix would confront him, leading the intoxicated miner away from his group and instead to an isolated area where she could sit him down and talk with him. Before saying anything she set up the recorder to catch all of their conversation. Thankfully the Gran was still too out of his mind to realize what was going on. Izel didn't need to push him hard for information. As soon as she broached the subject he burst into tears and told her everything.

"I just... I was afraid..." He blubbered though coughing sobs. "I'm starting to get on you know? I can't keep up with that Kiffar brat and all his buddies. Hardume... He said he's gonna fix it, make things like they were before... I can keep my job..." He wiped his eyes. "But the way that kid screamed when the cart rolled on him I... I didn't think..." He just shook his head and started sobbing again. Izel took some time to console him, then used a good deal of what she had to hire him a ride back to the spaceport, no questions asked. This was it. They had everything they needed. In the morning she could take what she had to the Guild and force their hand, or threaten to expose what they were allowing. Or at least that's what she planned to do. By the time she got back to her house she found Hardume and a dozen of his cronies standing outside, blocking her path. It seemed she hadn't been as stealthy as she had thought.

"Shouldn't have stuck your nose where it doesn't belong bug." He said ominously, and pulled out a club. The other miners revealed all sorts of crude weapons. Slowly they moved to surround the Vratix. Izel watched them, unimpressed.

"Insect." She corrected them, tightening her grip on her staff. They were starting to get too close for comfort. The Devaronian gave her a toothy smile.

"Yeah?" He asked, some chuckles circulating through the group.

"Don't." The Vratix warned them sternly, still not showing any signs of fear. "It won't go the way you think." Hardume's smile disappeared. It seemed she touched a nerve.

"We'll see..." He replied coldly, and started approaching with clear intent.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

"Ahem..." Isen coughed as he approached. When he started home, he noticed that Hardume and and a large crowd of his followers were on the same path. Knowing that Izel was going to approach the Gran today, he had an idea where they were headed. He kept his distance, not letting them know he was behind them. He gave them a chance to talk themselves out of it, to prevent what was probably inevitable. But once they started approaching Izel, Isen decided to let them know they had two folks to worry about.

Hardune spun around and his crew parted so he could see who coughed. The ire on his face was very real. There was a hatred there. It had gotten personal for Hardume, and he hated nobody more than Isen for putting these wheels in motion. "You...You're finished. Not just finished in the mines, I mean your life. You and this bug here are goin..."

"Insect," Isen corrected. "She told you not to use bug."

Hardume opened his mouth to say something, but Isen interrupted. "Izel is correct. This will not turn out the way you think it will. What I did to Deej's crew is common knowledge. And that insect is who taught me how to fight. I don't normally make guarantees, but I guarantee you that you and your men are not prepared for what is to come if you force us to violence."

Hardume grouped seven of the dozen others with him. "You...you all with me. We're going to show this kid why respect is important." To other five he nodded back to Izel. "You go squash the bug..."

Isen sighed. Correcting him to say insect was not going to make any difference apparently. He just shrugged and put himself in a fighter's stance. Without using the Force, or at least overtly doing so, he might take some shots. Especially as they had weapons and Isen didn't. But, whatever Izel was trying to work out of Isen, his taste for combat...it still lingered there. Deep down in the pit of his heart, his stomach, he was itching for this. He could see that some of them had some fear in their eyes. The legend of Isen's brawling prowess had spread and gotten much larger than it should have. People love to tell stories.

He would save them for last. They would be the less dangerous of the ones coming after him, and the most likely to tuck tail and run after he hammered some of the guys who thought they could bang some heads. Isen's hands were raised to box, and he grinned just slightly and with two fingers waved them to bring it.

Both groups moved on Isen and Izel at the same time.

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel hissed at Hardume's words. He was making it quite clear they intended to kill the both of them right here in the open. Was he really so brazen? This fool was worse than Deej. As the group broke off into two to attack both Jedi the Vratix swung her staff around and pointed it to the man closest to her. "I'm losing my patience." She gave him one last warning, eyes boring into him. "I don't want to fight you but that doesn't mean I won't break half the bones in your body if you make me." The man hesitated. It seemed he was starting to realize they weren't just being boastful. "We're not enemies here," Izel offered one more plead. "Just think for yourselves and-" She cut herself off, ducking as one of the other miners came at her from behind, swinging a metal bar aimed at the back of her head. The attacker looked surprised, right up until she swung her staff into his stomach, forcing him to double over in pain. She then spun it around and cracked him over the head instead, sending him crumpling to the dirt.

There was no negotiating after that. The remaining four men rushed her all at once. Izel jabbed the first one to enter her range in the gut, making him stagger backwards. She brought her staff back around to block a swing coming at her from the opposite direction, but that left her open from behind as a Weequay hit her square on the back with a shovel. The Vratix cried out in pain, and looking over her shoulder raised one of her back legs and kicked him, forcing him to stumble backwards. The third attacker attempted to stab her with a knife. Izel let go of her staff with her right hand and reached out, grabbing the Klatooinian's forearm in her claws and yanking him close enough to headbutt him. As he grunted and backed away holding his head she turned her full attention to the human she had previously blocked.

He swung at her again, and again she blocked his attack with little difficulty. These men were nothing like she was used to. Not trained Force users, not mercenaries or pirates, just angry miners with improvised weapons. They were tough sure, they had numbers and a burning hatred for the both of them. But that wasn't nearly enough for them to stand a chance. As he raised his arms overhead to make another clumsy, heavy swing, she swept his legs out from under him. And as he fell on his back she cracked her staff down hard over his chest, drawing a pained cry as he curled up in a ball.

The noise they were making was drawing attention, with guilders and freelancers alike slowly making their way outside to see what the fuss was. A crowd was starting to form. Izel took a look around, hoping this would be enough to convince their attackers to back off. It wasn't. As she looked over the still standing Weequay, Klatooinian and human, it was clear from their expressions how desperate they were. They were afraid of her now, that was for certain. But they still hated her. She and Isen were to blame for all their troubles as far as they were concerned. They weren't going to stop until she made them.

Again they all surrounded her and charged at once. The Weequay took a swing at her legs this time, trying to do to her what she had done to his friend. Izel jumped back to dodge, but in the process got too close to the Klatooinian, and he drove his knife into her midsection. She screamed this time as the pain surged through her body, dropping her staff. Turning on the Klatooinain she grappled him with both arms, allowing the Force to augment her strength as she tore the miner off of her and spun him around just as the human took a swing at her with a wooden baton, instead striking his ally across the head and knocking him senseless. The human cursed and started to back away as his friend fell to the ground. Izel fixed him with a furious glare, but before she could attack the Weequay took another swing at her upper body. The Vratix raised her arms to block the attack, hissing in pain as the wood rung against her arm. She then grabbed the shovel in her hands and gave a forceful pull, ripping it from the miner's grip. As he stumbled forward she she jabbed it's blunt end right into his face, shattering his nose and sending him to the ground wailing.

Izel dropped the shovel, panting as she clutched her stab wound. The other human was getting back to his feet, as well as the Rodian with the metal bar that had been the first to attack her. "Enough!" She screamed as she looked between them. "You think this will change anything? You can't stop what's happening here! We're through doing things your way!"

"That's right!" One of the miners in the growing crowd shouted in support. A good number of people raised their voices to agree with him. The attackers finally hesitated, looking around at the scene. Izel looked in Isen and Hardume's direction to see how they were fairing.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

Three of Hardume's goons charged Isen immediately. Isen shuffled forward which took them by surprise. The one directly in front of Isen put the break on by planting his front foot. Big mistake. Isen gave a hard sidekick right into the knee and buckled the leg joint in the wrong direction. It was as sickening sight, but Isen didn't hesitate. He planted with his kicking foot and immediately spun the other in a high roundhouse that caught one of the other men flush with the side of his head with a quick and fast knockout. He planted with that kicking foot and with a rear kick, caught the third man in the gut. The guy with the busted knee and the guy who had the lights turned out were out of the game. Isen knew the Yarkora that he caught in the stomach would be back, but he would have to catch some breath first.

Isen looked up, and as expected, two of the seven men took off running. They saw the writing on the wall and weren't as dumb as they looked. Still, Hardume and two men that were left unscathed and one guy catching his breath remained. They all picked up something. A pickaxe, a crowbar, a pipe...something, and surrounded the Kiffar. Isen kept his eyes on Hardume, the faintest hint of a grin on his lips.

"You can't take us all, you little puke," Hardume said.

"Well...yes, Hardume. I most certainly can," Isen said with confidence. It wasn't a cockiness, it was assuredness. And Hardume's eyes softened as he began to wonder if they had any chance to take the young Kiffar down. Isen kept his eyes on the two of them at his 10 and 2 o'clock. The two at his 8 and 4 o'clock position, he felt out with the Force. Isen tried to be very clear with Hardume. "If you continue, I'm going to end up hurting you and all of your men. It is inevitable."

Isen could feel the ripple in the Force and ducked as large pickaxe came over the top. Isen, lower to the ground, whipped his leg, sweeping the leg of his attacker who already had his momentum going forward. The man went face first into the dirt. Isen followed that by popping up and driving his foot into the back of the man's head. The goon's face blasted against the rocky ground. His nose and orbital bone around his eyes shattered. He was bleeding profusely, but he was out.

It was at this time he heard Izel's painful cry as she was stabbed with the knife. Isen lost his concentration out of concern for his master, and Hardume and his men each got a shot with a hard blunt object. Isen was forced to get into the fetal position and roll, taking some more shots, taking a pounding, but able to protect his head. He got a peak and saw that Izel was doing ok, all things considering. Isen kipped up from his fetal position and caught a lead pipe that was coming for him. Isen ripped it from the attacker's grip as he spun hard into the man, catching him with a spinning elbow and then using the pipe like a baseball bat into the ribs. The impact shattered ribs and literally lifted the man off the ground. He crumpled in a heap, and Isen spun hard, still holding the lead pipe, and cracked the last of Hardume's goons in the head, knocking him out as well.

Suddenly, Hardume was backing away in fear and tripped over one of his own goons who was lying out cold on the ground. Isen was stalking him as Hardume continued to bearcrawl backwards. Isen heard Izel say, "Enough! You think this will change anything? You can't stop what's happening here! We're through doing things your way!"

Isen shook his head as he continued to stalk Hardume. "I'm not sure I'm done yet. That miner you almost killed is a good man. He was working hard to get a promotion so he could afford a more permanent lodging and bring his wife and children out here." Isen pointed at him with the lead pipe. "I think you're the one that should pay for it, not these henchman of yours."

"M...m....meee?" Hardume stuttered. "You! You're the reason that boy got hurt!"

Isen narrowed his eyes and kept stalking Hardume who couldn't crawl backwards fast enough. "Excuse me?"

"We never would have sabotaged that cart if you hadn't forced out our hand!" Hardume yelled. "The blood is on your hands, not mine!"

There was a gasp in the crowd, even from those who were in the Hardume camp. There it was. He just admitted that he sabotaged the cart. He was the reason the cart crashed. He was the reason that one of their fellow miner's leg was crushed and he was healing up somewhere not earning credits or rations. Many of the miners wanted to keep things the way they always had been, but they did not want to go so far as to hurt and potentially kill their fellow miners.

Isen dropped the pipe and knew he would have to try and prevent the miners from hurting or killing Hardume. They were hot and they wanted Hardume's blood now. "Wait!" Isen yelled at the crowd. "We have a confession heard by ALL of you! He should be held accountable, but held accountable the right way! We have all the proof we need for justice, not vengeance!"

"We need miner justice!" a voice yelled from the crowd. It would appeared the crowd agreed with this assessment.

Isen noticed the crowd was getting angrier and angrier, and they were about tip over into a full-fledged lynching. Isen looked over at Izel and said, "I don't think we can hold them. They'll kill him, I think. You have any bright ideas?"

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

While Isen forced a confession out of Hardume, Izel quickly glanced around the crowd. All eyes seemed to be on the miner and her apprentice, so she used the opportunity to quickly yank the knife out of her side and drop it before pressing her palm over the wound. Subtly calling on the Force, she was able to close up the laceration. As their audience started to turn on Hardume his "allies" quickly melted into the crowd and slunk off. It seemed the Devaronian's only advocates would be the people that he had just tried to beat to death in the street.

Izel walked back to where her staff lied on the ground and grabbed it with her foot, tossing it into the air and catching it in her hand before making her way over to Isen's side. "I don't think we can hold them. They'll kill him, I think. You have any bright ideas?" He said, and she was inclined to believe him. Looking over the crowd they were whipping themselves up into a frenzy. All the tension of the past few weeks was being focused solely on Hardume, and they seemed eager to take out their aggression on this new scapegoat. The Devaronian himself remained on the ground, looking fearfully at the people closing in around him.

"Don't know if I'd call it bright..." Izel answered her apprentice before stepping between Hardume and the crowd, standing over him defensively. This move was unexpected, and caused the miners to hesitate. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I didn't come here to murder anyone!" She addressed them loudly, tracing her eyes over the gathered faces. "I came here to work. I came here to make a living. That's all I want to do. That's all any of you want to do, is it not?"

"We can't work with these bastards trying to kill us!" One of Deej's men shouted.

"Hey don't lump us in with him!" One of the old hats shouted back. And all at once the crowd shifted and looked like it was going to turn in on itself.

"Just stop!" Izel shouted over them, just using a hint of the Force to amplify her voice so she would be the loudest and clearest among them. "Listen to yourselves! You're all acting like animals, frothing at the mouth to tear each other apart! You are, all of you, the same! I know because I've listened to each and every one of you. You're all here for the same reason, you're all just trying to get by."

"And all these outsiders want to push us out!" One of Hardume's cronies shouted.

"It's not our fault you're all lazy!" One of the younger miners countered. More arguing, more throwing threats. Izel gripped her staff so tightly she thought she could snap it in half.

"And how will killing each other solve any of that?" She shouted. "Look around you, look at what you've been able to accomplish so far just through hard work." She spread her arms wide, gesturing to the burgeoning town around them. "If you'd just stop getting in your own way you could be so much more!" She turned her attention towards the old hats. "I know you're scared. Things are changing and you're afraid you'll be left behind. But it doesn't need to be that way. We can all do great things here. We just need to be willing to work with one another." Turning to Hardume the Vratix extended a hand, offering to help him up. The Devaronian flinched at first, thinking she was about to hit him. Slowly looking up at her he hesitated, watching the insectoid in disbelief. When she spoke again her voice had softened.

"We just need to let go of our fears, and learn to stand on our own feet." She told him specifically, and waited for the miner's response.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

The crowd was starting to simmer down. Izel's words had a great effect on the crowd. In fact, both sides started to act as if they were a bit ashamed of themselves. Most of Hardume's contingent were more than willing to distance themselves from their ringleader, and they were prepared to let the other side have their way with him. Besides, the vast majority didn't sign on to trying to hurt or kill their own peers.

Isen's body had relaxed, feeling the tenseness in the air start to deflate. He almost offered a rare smile, but before he could, a female voice rang out, "He almost killed my husband! My family, my children, are going hungry because of him! You have to do something!"

Of course the poor wife and kids would make an appearance. And just like that, the crowd wanted blood again. Isen grimaced and tried to protect Hardume. He was becoming as hated as Hardume at this point for trying to hold back the crowd. The crowd started throwing things at Isen, and those at the front of the mob pushed and threw some punches at him. Isen spotted Deej in the crowd and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him close to his body. "Tell these people to stand down, Deej!"

Deej looked like Isen just asked him to slap his own mother. "Stand down? Why would I do that? He's guilty as hell! He deserves what he gets!"

Isen kept fighting the people back, but at some point, he would either have to get very physical which he didn't not want to do or let them have Hardume. Neither was a good option for a jedi. He yelled back at Deej, "Because this helps nobody. You've come too far with this cause to have it all come to ruin."

Deej just shook his head, conflicted. "No, no. You do it. Keep telling them. They'll listen to you. They're scared of you."

Isen was losing ground and he held firm to Deej's shirt. His free hand was trying to hold back the crowd. "Listen to me. They may fear me, but they respect you. Like it or not, you've become a leader to these people. Their future is in your hands. Either everybody here gets given their walking their papers and some of them spend time in a dusty jail cell, or you can LEAD and these people can make a life they never thought was possible at Zugga's Canyon. Their future is in your hands right now," Isen said, his eyes focused and still. "You'll have to live with their futures, for good or for ill, for the rest of your life. It will always be on your conscience."

Isen had to release Deej, as the crowd continued to push toward Hardume. The padawan had just about decided to give up and let Hardume meet his fate, but a roaring cry of "STOP!" rang out above the fray. It was Deej. "Miners of Zugga's Canyon! Hardume will get his justice! But let justice be served in a way that we can still thrive! Let the guild and the authorities deal with Hardume! Let us get back to making a good living and thriving town! Let us get back to WORK!"

At the very least, the crowd had stopped and was contemplating. There was nothing Isen could say. Deej was the only one with the capital to get the crowd to back away. One miner blurted out, "What about his wife and kids! We have to take care of Hardume for that!"

Deej held up both hands. "No, no! We're ALL a family now. We will all pitch in and make sure that his family can keep their shelter and have food to eat until he is well enough to work again! But you! You think of your families! Think of what we are building here! What we are building for them! Don't throw it all away for this pitiful creature! If we act in anger now, Hardume will get what he wanted. Things will go back as they were. Do not let him win!"

The crowd was starting to buy it. Isen didn't know if he or Hardume was more relieved. Some of the crowd started filtering out, walking away. Others were still arguing a bit, but the prevailing wisdom at this point was to let the authorities and the guild handle Hardume. Isen looked over at Izen and shrugged. Eventually, the crowd dissipated a little at a time until there was nobody left but Hardume quivering, terrified, on the sandy floor. Isen nodded at Deej. "This outpost has much to thank you for, Deej. You saved this town."

Deej shook his head and extended his hand to Isen. "No, you did. Thank you, Isen. You were right. Even when it hurt."

Isen grinned and shook his hand. "I just pointed you in the right direction."

Deej looked to Izel and smiled. "And thank you. We didn't deserve your hospitality or your help, but you gave it freely. You two ain't half bad...for a couple of non-guildies."

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel didn't quite realize her misstep until it was too late. Her words were successfully calming the crowd, right up until she offered an olive branch to Hardume. She should have foreseen that while they were ready to forgive each other, they wouldn't be ready to forgive the Devaronian just yet. As the crowd suddenly pushed in on them the Vratix held up her staff like a bar, trying to push them back.

"No!" She shouted desperately, realizing they were losing control of the situation. "Stop this!" She flinched as a rock dinged off the side of her head as the people pushed back on her, trying to get at Hardume. She shoved a few people to the ground, but more kept coming. When Deej suddenly spoke up, she was just as surprised as everyone else. She listened to the Nikto speak, slowly lowering her weapon as a feeling of satisfaction came over her. While the crowd calmed down once more, she would look to her apprentice and give him an approving nod. They'd done it. While a few of the more level-headed miners took Hardume into custody she joined Isen and Deej. As the Nikto gave her a begrudging compliment she let out an amused chitter, but there was obvious relief in her voice. It had been a hard night.

"I'm sure with a little more work I can say the same about you." She joked. "Thank you." She then added more seriously, giving him a bow and reaching out to shake his hand. Things happened quite quickly over the next few days. Hardume and a few of his more radical associates were expelled from the guild, and Hardume himself would be likely facing a prison sentence. The workers of Zugga's Canyon were already rallying and finding new inspiration in their work. Many of them chipped in to help support the injured miner's family. Izel herself donated her home to them, since they would be leaving soon. More privately she gave some money to the guild as well to be handed over to Hardume once he was released, along with a message pleading with him to try and change his ways. Whether he took that advice or not was up to the Force, and his own common sense.

Many were surprised to hear they would be leaving soon, especially after they had worked so hard to make a place for themselves here. On the night before they were set to depart, they all gathered in the club. Deej and his crew, Rus and Izel's other friends and co-workers, along with many others that just wanted to show their appreciation for what the outsiders had done for them. They threw quite a party for them.

"I just don't understand why?" Rus asked the Vratix as he sat beside her at a table. "After everything you went through to fix this place you're just going to leave?" Izel looked at Isen then back to the Nikto and shrugged.

"We're drifters." She explained. "It's not our way to stay in one place too long. And I think we've overstayed our welcome here. A lot of the higher ups in the guild don't appreciate us shaking things up. We don't want to stick around to see if there's any sort of retaliation." It wasn't entirely a lie. Izel was well aware that while the common folk had grown to admire them, the guild leaders saw them as a threat to their power. They weren't needed anymore anyway. Izel could feel it in the Force. Things were changing here, for good. The people would not settle for going back to the way things were before. They had gotten a taste of what could be, and wouldn't give it up for anything. "You'll do just fine without us." She insisted in a bittersweet tone. She'd still miss this place, all things considered.

Later she'd speak with Isen privately, watching the other workers celebrating from a darkened corner of the room, able to speak a bit more freely. Still, she couldn't raise her vocie too much. "I'm very proud of you Padawan." She told Isen as she looked over the gathered guilders and non-guilders, breaking bread together. "We've done a great thing here, and it wouldn't have been possible without you." Reaching into her bag she pulled out the young Jedi's twin lightsabers and handed them to him. She was well aware of how glad he'd be to have them back. "We're not finished yet, but you've taken a great leap forward in your journey. You have proven your strength and resolve. You completed this task with wisdom, patience and compassion. And I have no doubt you will continue to prove yourself worthy of Knighthood as we move on to our next challenge." As hard as things may have been here, Izel knew that where they went next would prove far more taxing on her apprentice, and no doubt herself as well. They had faced the lesser darkness more commonly found throughout the galaxy. Soon they would face one of it's greatest sources.

@Isen

 

[Isen Ramm]

There were few people in the galaxy that Isen sought approval from or cared if they had any displeasure of him. Izel was one of those very few. When she complimented his efforts on Mon Gazza, Isen genuinely was touched by the compliment. She was an excellent teacher, and was exactly what Isen needed. She didn't sugarcoat, and her rebukes were sharp, but fair. Of all the Jedi Knights and Jedi Masters that could have been selected for Isen's master, he was certain that Force's hand and will moved to make this union happen.

And then she offered his lightsabers back. Isen looked up at the Vratix as if wondering if it was true. Was it a test? Should he say no? Whether he should or should not, Isen simply nodded and took them from her. He slid them into hidden pockets sewn into the inside of his pants. "Thank you, Master." She would know he meant not just for the lightsabers, but for the compliment, and even more deeply, for her patience and mentorship.

"And I have no doubt you will continue to prove yourself worthy of Knighthood as we move on to our next challenge," Izel said.

The thought of Isen being a Jedi Knight never sounded more real. He had been a youngling and then an initiate. Then he was sent to Ajan Kloss to start his journey as a Padawan. But a knight, the distinction he had dreamt about since he was a small boy, was now in front of him, within reach. "I hope I do you proud, Master."

That night, Isen woud pack. They would be headed to the Spaceport tomorrow to a destination that only Izel Thral knew. He didn't know what to think about this place. He was ready to leave, but he was appreciative for the lessons taught here. He had succeeded in some ways, but if he was honest, had failed in others. Izel was so natural around strangers and picked up friends almost immediately at Zugga's Canyon. While Isen certainly earned respect, and in some cases fear, from others, he doubted very seriously that Deej would call him a friend. None of the crewmates would have long nights at the bar telling stories about how much fun they had with Isen. He would always be this quiet, no nonsense young Kiffar that could beat the bantha mess out of you.

The Kiffar sat on his bed, looking at his packed things. His failure in this area brought back his memories of interactions with the other padawans on Yavin and Ajan Kloss. Most of them made friends as easily as Izel. They even had some goofy group name they called themselves. On the one hand, Isen was incredibly annoyed with their lack of focus. He thought everyone should train as hard and as long as himself. But on the other hand, they were happy. Laughing. They had friendships of people their own age. Izel Thral was Isen's best friend, best friend by a longshot. But even her best friend was someone else, a Jedi Master somewhere else in the galaxy. Isen wondered if this feeling he was experiencing was loneliness. He had never given the idea much thought before. He rubbed his thumb across the hilt of one of his lightsabers, and smiled. Maybe these were his two best friends.

Isen turned out his light and stretched out on the bed. Feelings, no feelings, the hard manual labor and the taxing emotional toil of his trial on Mon Gazza had him ready for sleep. He closed his eyes thinking about the star port and where Master Thral would take him next. It was a mystery, a new quest, and a new trial. There were no telling what surprises would present themselves along the way.

@Reyn

 

[Yulie]

How many nights had it been since Emryc primed a canister of detonite and lobbed it through the HoloNet? It took nary but a minute, and the meagre life that Yulie had cobbled together in the shadow of a spice den had blown apart in a flash of screaming and blaster fire. She reminded herself every night since that she should have killed them all, that she could have decorated the den with so much ruin and death that no one would have been able to make a story out of it. Instead, she ran.

That decision permitted rumors to escape into the streets, and when they finally planted their roots and made themselves at home, the stories barely resembled what had truly occurred. Yulie, the Jedi (as the story went), put some kid’s face clean through the ceiling, carved up the entire building with blasters and beam-swords, declared herself The Dark Goddess of All, and spilled the tea, plus whatever else they could think of to make the incident sound more interesting. The tales were wild and strange, concocted by minds absolutely saturated with spice and revised with every telling, but the singular constant was her.

She had waited tables long enough for any patron to easily describe her: a sickly-looking girl so pale she was probably half-dead, unkempt silver hair, a crimson sarong and handwrap in an otherwise dour fashion sense. A bulbous thing on one hip and a Jedi weapon on the other. There was only so much she could do about a description so accurate.

Her disguise began by rolling the lightsaber tightly in her sarong and wearing it as a belt with the lightsaber as its buckle. Removing her bootstraps allowed her to wear her trophy from the Sleeper like a comically undersized backpack instead of bobbing by her waist. She was even to make rudimentary hair dye by cooking a paste with crushed nuts and red clay. Hardest to conceal were her slave markings. Thanks to red hand-wrappings, no one had seen the brand upon her palm or the tattoos encircling it, but she wasn’t ready to walk around with a naked palm.

Dark thoughts urged her to take a knife against her own skin, or let a hot coal burn the markings away. Yet she could not. Even if she were to chop her hand off completely, the markings would still be there. They were imprinted not only upon her palm, but her very identity. It was as if her mind itself had been branded. Instead, she pulled her pocket inside out, sliced a disc of fabric from the sharp edge of an empty can of rations, and made a fingerless glove out of it, stitching it in place with thin braids of her own hair.

Yulie slept on rooftops, keeping warm by fires lit in rusty cans and cooled off by napping in the shade. When her stomach ached from hunger, the Dark Side oppressed the minds of nearby serpents and lured them to her. Their blood and the juices from malformed fruits sated her thirst. She was a survivor. The violent tempest that rumbled from the black matter of her brain couldn’t change that. She would be patient. She would be humble. And she would choose her moment with care.

Enough time had passed for things to largely blow over. People had better things to murmur about: trouble in the mines and the drama of guild politics, but lawmen never forget. Was she really a Jedi? Spiced-up punks were hardly reliable sources, but her mere existence was unquestionably disturbing the peace. Restoring that peace would be as easy as recirculating her in the slave markets or abandoning her deep in the arid wastes.

This was her moment, that precious window of opportunity when the townsfolk had a list of things on their minds other than narcotic whispers of Jedi, and the law hadn’t cornered her sufficiently to advance in force. This was the moment to get off this planet and never look back.

Yulie made her way through the rooftops, disgust and resentment giving enough spring to her feet to clear the streets below. It first made her bitter towards the throngs of people who had pushed her away into such desperate isolation, but her hatred quickly turned inward. Had she massacred the spice den, she wouldn’t have had to live in such an unsightly way. She could have left this rock long ago but her mercy kept prevailing over her wrath. And how could it not? She was angry at herself, after all.

Stealthily descending into a darkened alleyway, she discreetly slipped into the crowd that was clogging the spaceport. Meandering to a kiosk auctioning seats in ships registered to the Free Spacers Guild, she placed a shard of kyber upon the desk. “One ticket to anywhere, I don’t care which ship.”

The Besalisk behind the counter frowned and held the shard up close while keeping two other arms firmly planted on the table. “Never thought I’d see someone make a bid with broken glass, but here I am.”

“It’s kyber. A chunk that big—”

“CHUNK!” He rumbled with an incredulous laugh.

“Shard. A shard that’s worth at least five tickets.” And right there she solidified the case against her. She clearly did not have a baseline understanding of kyber’s value. If she was willing to undercut herself so steeply, it was safer to assume she'd broken it off a bottle down the street than to believe it was authentically precious.

“Stop.” He narrowed his eyes, quickly losing patience.

“Two, then.” Yulie frantically searched her secret pocket, slipping her fingers through an inner hole in her pants for their pouch.

“You want to leave.”

“Five!” She dumped the contents of the pouch in full and slid them forward, her eyes wet with tears. “Five! Five shards of kyber! Please, This is all I have!”

With one sweep of his arm, a fistful of kyber was scattered upon the ground and he motioned for the next customer to come forward. Yulie had to dive to the side and use her body as a shield to keep them from being kicked out of reach.

The rest of the afternoon was a soul-crushing, heart-swallowing siege of various rejections as she went from ship to ship in a futile effort to trade her skills for passage. No one wanted a tinker, at least, not some ratty kid without any shoestrings. “You can use me as bait!” She offered a bounty hunter. “But I'm a people person!!” She shouted angrily at someone else before shyly withdrawing to an ever-thinning crowd. Again and again. She didn’t know what she would do if she had to return to the rooftops. Only now did she realize that she might actually be stuck in this forsaken city, forever hiding. The thought occurred to her that she might have to rob someone, perhaps drop upon some unlucky soul one night, plunge a knife in his throat and vanish with the shadows a little richer. Just enough to buy a ticket.

Yulie shivered and shook her head as if she could rattle those thoughts out her ear. There are still a few ships left. I don’t have to kill anyone yet. Not a stranger, anyway. Maybe that scaly nerf-herder who tried shooting me. At least that one would deserve it. Her thoughts were like water, and the Dark Side was a drain.

She shuffled timidly up to the final ship, whiter than usual. Arms stiff at her sides and fists balled tightly, she humbly approached the Captain. “E-excuse me?” She squeaked, absolutely certain how this conversation would conclude. “Your primary buffer panel is loose, that’s why your ship makes that noise when it kisses the atmosphere.”

He looked at her, then the front of his craft, and wheeled back with a confounded expression on his face. Yulie wouldn’t have been able to tell if he was insulted or surprised by her observation, even if she was looking him in the eye. She just stared at his feet as if the Lightsaber of Damocles was hovering above her head.

“I could tighten it for you. You’ve got better things than to straddle her nose. I’m a tinker. I can fix things. Straighten things up. Clear out any vermin---if there are any, of course! Your ship doesn't look dirty" she lied "but you know how vermin are.”

“I can handle my own ship. You should look to the Free Spacers Guild if you want a job.”

“You don’t have to pay me!” She blurted shrilly. “I don’t eat very much and I can sleep in the engine room. I’m quiet. I work hard. I don’t care how smelly or gross the job is---”

“Stop.” He raised his hand and waved her down. Yulie could feel her heart falling into her stomach. “You had me at not paying you. You really should lead with that.” He wagged a finger at her. “We’ll call it an internship. Don’t want to run afoul of the guildies.”

Yulie’s face contorted with confusion, before breaking into an ecstatic smile. “Really?”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself. You’ll be earning your keep, I’ll see to that. Lists and chores. And I don’t need much of a reason to dump you off somewhere, so you better not be lazy, or a junkie, or…someone who doesn’t actually know anything about buffer panels. Chin up. Eyes forward. Get in. Instructions will follow. And wash your face, you look like a cannibal.”

Yulie happily obliged. This was the best day ever!

@Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

The following morning the Jedi said their goodbyes and finally, after months of hard work and no small amount of drama besides, departed Zugga's Canyon. Izel wasn't certain of what the future had for the people there, but she felt confident they left it better than they found it. The trip back to the spaceport was pleasant enough, although the rumors that they found circulating there were somewhat concerning. Apparently there was another Jedi about, although the tales attached to her sounded more like the work of a Sith or other dark sider.

Izel would take some time to ask questions about this violent and dangerous near-human running about, but couldn't find much evidence to support the stories. Yes there had been a scuffle in a cantina, but not much more than that, and those were no uncommon thing on a world like Mon Gazza. In the end she decided to pay it no mind. They had spent enough time here, and there wasn't sufficient proof of this "Dark Goddess" to warrant staying longer to investigate. So she turned to looking for a ship.

"Ambria?" One captain asked. "Why in the world would you want to go there? It's even more barren then this rock."

"We have our reasons," Izel replied simply, offering her credit chit. "And we pay extra for captains that don't ask questions." The captain just looked at her and her apprentice a few moments before shrugging and taking the money.

"Fair enough." He answered, losing interest. Izel looked to her Padawan brightly before boarding the ship. It was an AMS-8500. Nothing special, and that would serve them just fine. They didn't want to draw any attention to themselves after all. It was a cramped and cluttered ship, clearly the man in charge didn't take very good care of it. And he didn't take very good care of his crew either. From what Izel saw there was only one of them, a young and sickly looking girl. Something about her made the Vratix's antennae twitch, but she couldn't place it. For the time being she decided to leave it at that. While the captain prepped for takeoff she would get her bags stowed before sitting down to talk to her apprentice.

"Do you know anything about Ambria?" She asked him curiously. "I imagine your other teachers wouldn't have made much mention of it." She wasn't overly loud, but her speech was less guarded then it was back in Zugga's Canyon. The captain was in the cockpit at the moment, and he didn't strike her as the type to cause trouble anyway.

@Isen @Zohrael

 

[Isen Ramm]

"Ambria? Why in the world would you want to go there? It's even more barren then this rock."

A good question. Isen did not know where they headed next, and he was as surprised as the captain to hear that it was Ambria. He didn't know much about the planet other than it was in the inner rim. It was rocky. Had some lakes. Had some industry. But the captain was right. For the most part, it was pretty barren.

For Isen's part, he didn't take the stories of a "Dark Goddess" too seriously. If there was such a "Dark Goddess," why in all the worlds would she have chosen Mon Gazza to set up her kingdom? Was there a violent criminal? A sociopath? Very possible. There were a lot of reasons to turn to crime or to lose one's mind in Mon Gazza.

The Kiffar didn't have much in the way of possessions to take with him. A single pack was enough. His lightsabers were concealed and tucked into hidden pockets. He was already growing into a strong, physically imposing young man, but he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the one of the windows of the cockpit of the ship. He lost track of how long they had been on Mon Gazza, but Isen spent day after day, week after week working in the mines, doing the heavy lifting without any (much) help from the Force. His shoulders seemed broader and the sleeveless undertunic he wore highlighted the definition of the muscles in his arm. He had spent so much time training in his life, but little of that was heavy lifting. He was always in shape, his muscles clear of fat. But between his heavy lifting and Izel's cooking, he muscled up while here and looked much older than he was. He looked like a grown man, and now in his latter teenage years and the experiences of his missions, he may well have been.

Likewise, Isen found a place for his single pack, and in doing so, he saw the girl. Pale, gaunt, and a bottle of emotions. Isen sensed...relief. Not relief that Izel and Isen showed up, but a sense of relief in general. Isen pulled out a loaf of bread, one of the last items he purchased with his rations at the mines and sat next to Izel. She asked him what the padawan knew about Ambria. He told what he knew to his master and tore off about one third of the loaf. He set it on his lap and split the big section in two, creating three equal size portions of bread. He would offer one to Izel, and she could take it, or not.

"Hey..." Isen said to the pale girl, holding up a third of the loaf offering it to her. He would toss it to her if she said she would take it.

@Reyn @Zohrael

 

[Yulie]

Yulie walked two circuits within the ship, taking mental inventory of all the tasks that awaited her and arranged a box of cleaning supplies along the way. It was a parcel of organized chaos, the chemicals and equipment placed as visual reminders for unique messes in a myriad of rooms. If the box were a model of the craft, the items corresponded to the area they would be needed. However, the first thing she cleaned was her face. After seeing her own reflection after weeks on the lam, she was shocked that the Captain even allowed her on board. The way that nectar and serpent's blood stained the skin around her mouth was ghastly to look at.

Hanging the Sleeper trophy in the engine room, she took a minute to admire her new lodgings. Warm, with pleasant ambient humming of machinery and their gentle purring vibrated softly through the floor. Yes, it would do nicely. Thinking a little too long about how and where to install a hammock, she decided it was also a good time to check the ship’s comm system and quickly deduced through trial and error that the color-coding corresponded to areas of the ship. The far blue was for the engine room, the rest she would learn after takeoff.

Her thoughts turned to vermin and other pests and she darted about in search of them. A little late, to be sure; she should have been keeping an eye out for droppings or cobwebs during her first tour. Oh, well. She could always try luring those shifty little skitters late in her off-hours. Better if there were none, but protein is protein if things go bad. Off-hours. It was wonderful just to have those now. She clutched the box like it was filled with treasures, and then the passengers arrived.

Yulie wilted to the perimeter wall of the common area when Izel stepped inside, unaware of the coincidence that she was just thinking about having to deal with little bugs when a towering insect sauntered in. Trying not to look directly at it, Yulie instead surveyed the room, quietly hoping that it was not too cramped for someone twice her size. There was so much to think about as a new intern. Ohhhh…intern-ship. Now I get it. Next time I’ll make sure to laugh at the Captain’s dad jokes.

She remained off to the side as the others settled in, unobtrusive but not hiding, silent but ready. The insect spoke Basic...somehow...and spoke of something called Ambria. Yulie never heard of it before. Sounded like a nice name for a drink, something with bright, swirling colours that a moneyed individual would buy.

"Hey..."

Yulie perked her head up when Isen spoke to her and gaze instantly locked on the bread. Her eyes caressed its crust, tracing the carbon-scored ridgeline of fissures to the darkened, flat underside. It was real bread! Not some fluffy roll lathered in a sugary paste! The kind that sat heavy in the stomach, fit for a worker! The amber grain on the inside was thick like soil, crumbling ever softly where the sections had been torn. She blinked and mouthed the word really? before nodding in surprise and setting the box aside.

She snatched the bread out of the air and chomped down on it in the selfsame motion, so used to ripping the lean meat off the bones of Mon Gazza slither-beasts, she split a morsel from the crust with more violence than was needed. She breathed deep when it rolled onto her tongue and she closed her eyes, savouring it like she bit into Corellian fried ice cream for the first time. After weeks of subsisting on the bottom-feeders of a borderline wasteland, it might as well have been. Yulie had to enforce her self-control to stop after the second bite. It would be hard to keep down if she ate too much or too quickly.

“Thank you, Sir. I owe you…” She had a soft-spoken, deferential accent, quite unlike the exotic flair most Dathomirians possessed. That part of her culture was lost generations ago. Those who grew up in the same pit as her learned a purposeful enunciation for the benefit of the listener. She gave a contented sigh and held the bread at her side, just far enough away from her nose to stay composed. “…But I probably shouldn’t have accepted it.” She confessed. “I’m the ship's Help; I don’t know what the Captain would say if I receive gifts, since part of my duties will be to anticipate your needs. Speaking of which…” she turned her attention to the giant insect looming menacingly where it sat.

“I am unfamiliar with your People. Before I begin scrubbing things down, I should find out if you have any sensitivities to the cleaner.” Yulie could recognize hazard logos but did not know how to read the warning labels or disclaimers. If anything was an insecticide to Vratix, she did not want to wash the tables with it. Poisoning the first passenger on the very first day of work would be a fast way to get kicked off the ship. "And whatever formal honorific you prefer, I should like to learn that, too." Unable to tell a male from a female for insects, she couldn't refer to Izel as Sir or Ma'am.

“But before I forget: if either of you ever need something of me but I cannot be found, allow me to direct your attention to this speaker.” She motioned to one built into the wall. “Most areas of the ship have one of these; just press the blue button at the far end there. It will patch you to the engine room, and that’s where I’ll most likely be. But I’m here now, ready to assist. If there's anything you'd like.”

@Reyn @Isen