Ask Guard My Back: Ontotho

[Izel Thral]

​

Izel was glad to see that during her absence from the galactic community absolutely nothing had changed. Granted the political situation had been tense the last time she visited Ontotho, but nothing had been on fire. She was glad that the Order paired a Padawan with her. She had heard good things about young Vakren, and would appreciate her support. With the capital city falling into anarchy around them the Ontotho History Museum was at risk of becoming a target for looting. There were many valuable artifacts in there after all, one in particular the Jedi themselves would have liked to borrow. They were tasked with securing the building and the bronze guardian tablets within. Izel would have preferred if the Order made an effort to help resolve the chaos on the planet as a whole, but politics were not their domain. All they could do for the time being was try to minimize the damage to precious history.

As they moved through the streets Izel pulled her hood up and tried to look as unassuming as a Vratix could manage. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves after all. "Remember that first and foremost we're here to ensure the museum's safety." She addressed Padawan Vakren as they stood just off the main boulevard where a crowd of angry locals was marching, torches and blunt weapons in hand. "Try to avoid conflict with the Ontothons if at all possible. We don't want to make the situation any worse than it already is."

Even as she spoke a group of rioters attacked an abandoned speeder parked across the street, tipping it over and smashing it to pieces with their improvised weapons. Izel's antennae twitched as she watched the scene unfold. "Oh dear..." She muttered mostly to herself, surprised at the intense lust for violence she was sensing pouring off of the people in the street. The museum wasn't too much further from their current position, but given the circumstances even crossing that short distance might prove a challenge.

@Stick

 

[Rishe Vakren]

The riots were spread out in a broad tapestry over the Ontothoan city, simmering, smouldering, and exploding in pockets of intense activity. Desperation, desire, and zealous rage covered the riots much like the planet's poisonous (to humans) fog, except the former could only be truly felt by those strong in the Force.

This wasn't the first riot the planet's suffered. Beneath the politics that the Jedi sequester themselves from, Rishe could feel the years of turmoil beneath the surface. Like a wall repainted dozens of times over, you could peel the paint away and always find another layer. Rage covered anger covering fear covering shock... over an initial bud of hope. She didn't possess the gift of psychometry, but a city always carried with it a unique history that could be gleaned from its emotional state over time.

She tugged her cloak around her - the brown fabric and the rebreathing mask she wore beneath the hood marking her as an outsider just as Master Thral's own appearance did. She venerated the Order's traditions - including their dress - but she caught the sidelong glances they received from individuals in the mob taking note, like a slumbering beast feeling a curious little creature run about its paws. For once, she wished that they looked less like Jedi.

Though the rioting and conflict would not remain distant forever due to the groups being in constant motion. That lust for violence made the mobs hunt for something to satisfy it, and speeders would not satiate alone. That group was advancing away from the Jedi - not because they weren't a potential target, but because a mob flowed like water, expanding and flowing to fill the container it inhabited. However, their pace started to increase as distant, clearly-marked opposition was spotted.

Stragglers from another group were starting to emerge onto the end of the street, a mere trickle serving as a warning for an imminent deluge. They carried with them similarly fashioned weapons, though some had shields, adding onto a deep, bassy chant with percussion against their improvised barriers. It would have been nice that the Jedi could avoid further attention, but the museum's entrance was soon going to be located in the middle of another conflict.

"Yes, Master. Though, avoiding conflict might be... difficult." Rishe replies, her tone quieting as a weight seems to settle on her. "They're all already fighting each other. Everywhere."

The sensations here weren't too dissimilar from Denon. Highly fractured 'battle lines' forming between the two groups of supporters, pockets of government officers trying to restore order. A lot of that same high-octane adrenaline coursing through the minds of combatants, leaving behind tired, exhausted husks of people once they emerge from the distant brawl. Though... her mind was assaulted by less death. Only less. There's still death and pain.

And that rooted her feet in place, a bile rising in her throat. The severity of the sensations were not the same, yet the two events mimicked each other in intensity and raw turmoil. Her hands flexed, and she itched to reach for one of the lightsabers on her person. The padawan always put such stock into appearing in control, but through the Force, there was a a flash of instinctual panic before it was stuffed away with the same immediacy, the blinding combustion snuffed by a thick iron cage, not to stop it, but to conceal it.

@Reyn

 

[Vahn Berand]

It was almost like being home. The Lower City of Taris had always been plagued by riots of one form or another when he was young. Bread riots, work riots, bunk riots. Every basic sapient need eventually had some kind of riot. He even vaguely recalled a riot after people found out a swoop race had been fixed. Nasty business, that. He didn’t know the specific nature of this level of civil disorder, but in the end weren’t they all the same? People feeling unheard, people feeling threatened, and not having more ordered ways to express their frustrations or fears. Vahn couldn’t blame the compulsion. The surging anger and hatred in the streets was more difficult to deal with now that his senses were far more attuned than when he was young however.

It hadn’t been long since Vahn had touched down on Ontotho; a day or two, at most. But he at once set about merging into the most unseen, actively ignored strata of the population he could find. All planets had their own particular brands of people considered untouchable, but some were near universal.

Nearby Rishe and Master Thral, a man was shoved out of a nearby alley, and he hit the ground hard, sprawling on his side. A trio of men, a quarren and two humans followed. Each had an armband wrapped about the bicep, emblazoned with the colors of one faction or another.

“Quit lurking if you’re not going to make yourself useful for the cause, vagrant.” one of the humans, a light skinned man in makeshift armor said. “Get out of here, security risk!” another snapped.

“Please, please friends, a few creds, that’s all I ask; I usually do my work in the metro tunnels but they been locked for days. I gotta eat! Have a heart!” the man was clad in old, tattered and filthy clothes; a quilted brown longcoat patched up in numerous places hanging from his shoulders. He tugged on the knitted cap atop his head, dark brown hair hanging in unkempt tangled around it.

The three men gave a mutual sound of disgust, and the armored man spat before reaching into a pocket to hurl a smattering of coins down at the cringing beggar, scattering off of his arm and face. The three crowed in laughter to each other as they turned to strut back down the alley. The vagrant man slowly stood in their wake, counting the coins.

“11 credits? Cheapskates,” the man said, pocketing the handful of coins. He then looked up towards the two Jedi, and adjusted the old, cracked pair of sunglasses he’d been wearing before tossing them aside. A brief grin crept onto a dirty, ash smeared face still familiar to the pair as he approached. Even if his face was bruised in places.

“Ah good, I was hoping I’d find the two of you before too long!” His accent had changed; earlier he had been speaking in a clipped, brogey accent that would be common in any lower class urban sprawl. People often called it “Underbasic”. It had been some time since he’d spoken in his natural Tarisian accent. Now, his tone was more refined, more common to someone who travelled the Core Worlds.

Vahn’s eyes glanced askance as a small armed patrol wandered past.

“Please, Masters, a few credits; just enough to get me through all these troubles we’re having.” The fluidity with which Vahn was able to slip in and out of the Under-basic accent was impressive. “You wouldn’t believe it but I have some wee chi-” he paused as the mob wandered out of ear shot.

“Being Taris-born comes in handy sometimes. So, what’s your plan?” he asked Master Thral, while nodding to Rishe. He always valued her input as well. “I’ve spent my time trying to weasel information out of these folk. Took a few knocks to the face for it but I’ve got some ideas of my own now.”

Rishe’s state of emotional well-being didn’t go unnoticed. He was ever more familiar with his young apprentice’s emotional tells, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate him making a spectacle of the situation. Instead, he made eye contact with her, and took a deep breath in, and then breathed out. It was as if to say; ‘Relax, I’m here, it’ll be okay’.

@Stick @Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

Izel could only nod in agreement at Rishe's words. In the distance she could see the two opposing mobs forming ranks at their forefront, like two great armies preparing to clash. The violence would soon escalate, and it would be dangerous to try and move through the crowd. With her attuned Force sense she caught a hint of uncertainty in the young Jedi as well, causing the Vratix to give her a sidelong glance. Izel was aware Rishe had fought on Denon. The girl still seemed to be carrying some demons from that battle.

"Peace, Padawan." The Master said without turning her gaze away from the activity in the streets. "Let the Force guide you and you won't fail." Her tone didn't have any edge to it, rather her words were meant to reassure. If they were calm, if they were at peace, their training would take the lead and they would have nothing to fear.

That was when the 'beggar' entered the scene, being thrown out of the alley and harassed by three of the locals. Izel gripped her lightsaber pike tightly in one hand, prepared to step in if they tried to take things too far. But they were quick to dismiss him, and the other Jedi they had been dispatched with revealed himself. He seemed rather upbeat for someone who had just been kicked around, drawing a curious twitch from the Vratix's antennae. "I'm glad you found us too, it looks like the local idea of hospitality leaves much to be desired." She said jokingly. "Good to have you with us Knight Berand." As he asked for a plan she stepped past him to peer into the alley. The trio of men continued to chat idly as they made their way in the opposite direction, soon to reach the street on the other side. Izel glanced up towards the top of the buildings forming the alley, a good sixty feet high, but there was only about twelve or so feet between them. That paired with fire escapes and open windows made her idea seem plausible. She looked back at her allies.

"If we move into the alley we can scale the building from there, move along the rooftops and circumvent the mob entirely." She turned her attention to Knight Berand. "Unless something you learned gives you a better idea?" As the ranking Jedi she held the final say, but she was open to suggestions. Vahn had taken the time to try and immerse himself with the locals. If he had learned anything of value the Vratix would be happy to take advantage of it.

@Stick @The Steel Stag

 

[Rishe Vakren]

The padawan's gaze followed the rough trio back into the alley. Master Thral had requested they avoid trouble, so there was little they could do to get justice for the victim, and less they could do to aid him. And as the vagrant came close, Rishe's movements seemed torn between warding him away - until he spoke.

It's Berand? Rishe thought as she heard his voice and mannerisms shift, and honestly? She wasn't surprised. The Knight was beyond eccentric. Though her gaze lingered over his bruises, her brows knitting together with concern.

For a man who talks so much, he was good at nonverbal communication, making him frustratingly good at seeing through her. His familiar presence nearby was reassuring, though the padawan straightened her shoulders and strengthened her tone more from embarrassment about her lapse being that noticeable. But, she did copy that small breathing exercise. A deep breath in, a breath out as she tugged her mask down to let it hang. Vahn and other humans on the planet seemed fine, even after exposure to the snow and its atmosphere.

"I'm fine, Master." Rishe said to Thral, adamant. Perhaps she believed it, but discerning those kinds of falsehoods from the truth was impossible with the padawan, too proud and stubborn to ever admit to the contrary. She tried to center herself, keeping herself from being lost again in the events surrounding them by removing her cloak, gathering the dry, inside portion of the cloth, and reaching up to wipe away the ash and grime from Vahn's features, taking care to not irritate the bruising too much. Provided she was able to. I need to learn healing. Real Force healing.

"Getting into the alley right now doesn't seem a bad idea. If Master Berand's information changes the plan, we'll at least not be standing here as targets talking about it." Rishe suggested. Though Thal's overall plan seemed reasonable enough, she nodded along with agreement when the large Vratix had suggested it. Sometimes there was nothing better to add.

Though admittedly, entering the alley was an attractive idea for an additional reason. Her hard gaze fell on the merry three who'd entered it earlier. She wondered what their reaction would be when they saw the 'beggar' they'd assaulted return with two Jedi at his side. Provided they didn't escape before that happened.

@Reyn @The Steel Stag

 

[Vahn Berand]

As Izel greeted him, Vahn gave a slight bow and flared one hand out, perhaps a bit too flamboyant for his current presentation. It was likely a good thing that a slightly ostentatious beggar was one of the least noticeable things on the streets this day.

“A pleasure, Master Izel,” He knew her only by reputation, but it was a reputation that he was quite impressed by. "They seem to be having some issues so I'm not going to judge them too harshly; I doubt this is the last time someone's going to kick me around for being a nuisance."

Then, for the briefest of seconds he seemed surprised then when Rishe approached, and set about wiping away the soot and dirt from his face. He grimaced here and there as the cloth swiped over those faint blue bruises, revealing his sturdy features below but his expression softened, and a faint smile tugged the corners of his lips. He was happy to see her back in the field, serving right alongside him once more. Training in the field was one of the best ways to ascertain the strengths and weaknesses of a padawan.

“As always, it’s good to see you as well Rishe. I heard you were heading off on a mission and couldn’t let you steal all the fun,” he said, with a flight of a grin that slowly died. “Didn’t expect to find the planet in this state though. This isn’t normal unrest. Something is...off,” he stated, while looking off into the negative space between the buildings. It was so very similar to Denon.

Master Izel’s plan brought him back to the present, Vahn kept quiet as it was detailed. He nodded slowly, charting the path the three Jedi would have to take in his head. Rishe's prudence gave him pause before he nodded and tucked back into the alleyway and gave time for his fellow Jedi to follow behind him before he started explaining his own findings. He kept his head on a swivel, scanning the topography of the rooftops above as best he could from ground level.

“Functional, the greatest strength is simplicity. I think that could be an excellent way to get in without the crowd seeing suspicious people entering the museum and inciting a riot. However, if the situation continues to deteriorate,” Vahn turned his gaze to the far side of the street off of the alley where the skeletal remains of speeder was still steadily burning. “We may need to find a hasty escape.”

“I’ve heard from some of the security forces trying to keep the perimeter around the museum. People are so talkative when there’s only a vagrant huddled up just outside of what they feel is earshot. Apparently the few curators who haven’t fled have managed to scrounge together a handful of cargo lifts to try and get the most precious artifacts out. It wouldn’t be hard to sneak on one as they move a load out of, and get this, an underground tunnel into an old garage somewhere east of here. I wasn’t able to squeeze out an exact location, but… that’s what I’ve got.”

Vahn was quiet, listening to the ambience of the city. The din of chaos in the streets seemed to echo louder in his momentary silence. His brow was tense briefly. The anger and hostility surrounded him, and he rolled his shoulders in reflex as if he were getting ready for a fight. He scuffed a boot against the ground uncertainly.

“I’ve had thoughts that we might be able to convince the museum to grant us access to the artifacts we need if we can keep the situation stable, but we might have to commit a bit o’ t’eevry” Vahn stated, slipping briefly into his native Taris accent. It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time he’d robbed a place blind. It wasn’t his first choice, but he felt it needed to be said.

“Whichever you choose, Master Izel, I’ll follow your lead. This is your operation, not mine.”

@Stick @Reyn

 

[Izel Thral]

"They seem to be having some issues so I'm not going to judge them too harshly; I doubt this is the last time someone's going to kick me around for being a nuisance." Izel couldn't help but chitter in amusement at the Knight's words, she could already tell she was going to like this one. Noticing Rishe was worrying over his bruises the Vratix would make a point of offering to heal them once they made it into the relative safety of the alley.

"I'm impressed at your capacity for sympathy considering." She told him. "A true Jedi!" She added in a lighthearted tone. But as the conversation turned towards their mission she would quickly become serious again, listening intently to the information Vahn had managed to gather. She certainly agreed with the likelihood of them needing to make a hasty retreat. Even now as they spoke she could hear the faint roar of the mobs out on the street as they charged into each other. Just as anyone could have predicted, the violence was indeed escalating into an all out brawl. The tunnels sounded like they'd be useful. The prospect of thievery on the other hand... That Izel did not even want to consider, though she recognized Berand had a point.

"Stealing the artifacts is our absolute last resort." She said quietly as she looked between the two subordinate Jedi. "We are here to try and secure the museum, not loot it. We'll impress upon the guards how important our mission is, and assure them that the tablets will be returned once copies have been made. Only if the museum is overrun and they are at risk of destruction will we take them by force, understood?" After waiting to hear their replied the Vratix would look towards the other end of the alley again. The trio of thugs had disappeared. For the time being it looked like the Jedi were alone.

"We'll go up one at a time," The Vratix continued, nodding up towards the top of the buildings. "The others will keep watch for bystanders. If we call to you hide if you can, or try to be as still as you can so as not to be noticed. I'll go first." Izel would wait to make sure her companions understood the plan and were ready, then began. Vratix were naturally gifted jumpers, and by augmenting her strength with the Force the Jedi Master was able to leap more than two thirds of the way up right off the bat. Clinging to the vertical wall she paused to look around for any sign she might have been spotted before quickly crawling up the remaining distance and onto the building's roof. Once there she'd lean over the side again and make a gesture for the next to follow.

@Stick @The Steel Stag