Marick del'Abbot (Guest Poster)
First post forthcoming - by Fet'ai'narun.
Fet'ai'narun awoke with a start, barely managing to stifle a violent jerk. Her head throbbed uncontrollably.
"Of course..." She thought as she shifted somewhat in the straight-backed chair to find that her wrists had been bound near the seat of the chair and her ankles just as tightly to its legs. Blank, duracrete walls and a dirt floor were the only clues as to where she might have ended up.
Immediately the Chiss perceived that she was not alone, though no one was in the room with her. There were multiple Force-sensitive lifeforms nearby and many others more distant. They felt disorganized, hurried but definitely present. She would normally have cooperated until the situation was sorted out and she was released, but a sense of urgency overtook her as she recalled the events leading up to her capture...
Fet’ai’narun turned toward her ship, shielding her crimson eyes from the sun with her hand.
“Not long until sunset Miss Ilona. You be stayin’ long?” The older man asked as he checked the goods she’d brought in.
“No, Kallen, I’m afraid not.” Came the reply. It was icy in tone but Kallen could tell she was trying.
“You been doin’ better.” He said kindly, the woman turning to face him. “At soundin’ like you mean it.” He gave her an honest smile and friendly wink as went back to his work and the woman turned back to stare off into the horizon. She’d been feeling uneasy for days. Something was wrong.
Absently, the woman shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts that might explain the feeling. She’d decided years ago that she’d rather not rip open old wounds for the sake of simple answers.
“It’s all here.” Kallen said, standing and dusting his hands as the woman turned once more to face him. “Of course it is.” She said flatly. “It always is.” Kallen laughed heartily. “Thank ye.” His words were genuine and he smiled. Kallen always smiled. “We be needin’ as much food and arms as we can get.” the man said, sitting down on top of one of the crates with a grunt. “Not really the Jedi way but they say a storm be a brewin’ and people gotta defend themselves some way or th’other.”
Fet’ai’narun nodded. “I am not sure how much more I will be able to get for you.” She said, her voice factual.
“Eh, the winds be changin’ anyhow, Miss and you done more than others would.” Kallen responded, scribbling a voucher for her. “Take this up there yonder.” He said, pointing across the huge, duracrete lot, past the warehouses to something that looked only slightly more official. “Just like always.” The man added with a friendly smile as the woman took the scrap of paper from him, tucking it into the breast pocket of her long, black coat. She did what she did for her own reasons, not his or anyone else’s and she hoped to the powers that be that it would make a difference.
“You take care now, Kallen.” She called as she started the walk across the docks. “Don’t work too hard.”
The old man smiled, waving and she turned to continue across the lot. This place was miserable looking with all its huts and wooden merchant stalls, children in the streets and the smell of sweat and labor. The Jedi temple of course was marvelous and it rose in the distance from the landscape as if it had been there for all time. And maybe, somehow it had.
The woman turned her eyes forward, watching the workers and citizens pass, observing the merchants and wondering when exactly it was that she became part of the dregs of society.
As she approached the offices, the feeling struck once more, different this time but Fet’ai’narun did not perceive its meaning until they were already upon her: two, Mandoloreans, grabbing her roughly from behind by both arms and steering her off of the path without a word into the lush landscape. The last thing she could remember was trees and a blow to the back of her head before her world went black.
She had to get out of here before something else went wrong.
The smuggler could hear muffled voices from behind her. The wall was obviously too thin a barrier to conceal an escape attempt and she was sure she would only get one chance. At this point, an ill-conceived plan would lead to far worse trouble than she may already be expecting.
Her mind racing, the woman settled into a relaxed position and concentrated on getting something of herself free, looking as inconspicuous as possible and hoping to hell that she'd at least be able to take back her ship. As the smuggler concentrated on getting free, the uneasy feeling struck once more. Even without the Force, it was apparent that something was wrong and the feeling seemed to affect the Jedi as well as whomever else was with them. Outside the door, she could hear the faint sounds of arguing grow hushed, ending with the bustle of hurried footsteps and the sound of the door being unlatched behind her.
”This is it.” she thought grimly with a heavy sigh. ”Looks like time’s up...”