[FIC] Journeyman

[HerbieZ]

In celebration of my 1000th post here at Lucasforums, i have been working on a four part fic. So enjoy folks and comments are welcome on this thread.

 

 

Herbie’s Foreword: This is my first proper fic, ignoring that alcohol fuelled, toilet based Bao-Dur short I did after I came back from Amsterdam. I put a lot of thought into this story. It is based in the Kotor era and I will say little more than that. The reason being that keeping in the theme with Kotor, I want the reader to assume the main character to be of an alien species that they so desire.

 

Journeyman

 

Part 1 of 4: Origins

 

For almost a full cycle, I have been on Nar Shaddaa. Recently I have been watching the effects of the death of Goto spreading through the ranks. I’d like to say it’s going to be a positive outcome, but anyone that’s been here even for a second knows it will be just cosmetic. Crime will get back on its feet and that glimmer of hope will soon disappear from the eyes of the greedy slugs that represent this moon in the Senate on Coruscant.

 

Life here in the Refugee sector is much easier now. The pressure from the Exchange has eased off considerably and rumour has it, the Serrocco refugees are moving on soon. All this has led to a great optimism shared amongst the people of the sector. It’s visible too, as living conditions have improved; people here are becoming more complacent and there is a general relaxed mood throughout the group. The fact that we are surrounded by three walls and a vast drop is a daily reminder that people here are homeless refugees. Although these people are here because they are forced to be here as a result of conflict, I am here by choice or so I like to believe. Ever since I arrived, the people here have welcomed me and talk to me as if I am one of them. I have always told myself that I am not, I am here by choice and that alone sets me apart from the rest of these people. I have been amongst them for so long that even I cannot see clearly anymore and feel I am blinding myself to the truth. The truth being, that I am here and I will never get away from this place. But the one thing I am sure about amongst all else is that we do have a common goal. We all eventually want to get away. Not necessarily from this moon, but nevertheless we are all here because we want to escape “There are brighter stars in the galaxy than we can even dream of” at least that’s what Geriel tells me. I do believe him though because he is the only person who seems to have a permanently positive outlook on life.

 

As I often do, I decided to go for a stroll through the refugee sector, across Tapani sector to ‘Tweazel Merchants Promenade’ also known to few as “Spacers Isle”. The Isle is not one of the most glamorous places in the galaxy but it’s got the basics a man needs to survive by. Most of the stuff sold here is stolen from the nearby freight docking terminal via the process of directing crates one way for them to be sliced then the empties sent to the warehouse without the duty officials even noticing. Then the crates are stored indefinitely with the owners and the workers non-the-wiser. It is an ingenious process that I have always admired the mechanics of. As I walked on through the isle, I noticed one of the shops I frequent ‘Jorgt’s’ was closed. Jorgt is a suspicious man, who very much keeps to himself. Not a lot of people tend to notice him as he stands on the walkway above his shop glaring out into the distance most days. But to me, he stands out like a bright light in a sea of darkness. I am surprised no one has ever said something to him but there is definitely something off that stands out a mile. His shop is a small tech repair store which suffers from fluctuating opening hours. Few people credit this to the conditions he works in, but the rest of us know there is more to him than meets the eye. I have spoken to people who have identified him as many things: - Trader, Air taxi pilot, Politician, Slaver, Spy and he was once identified by a Corellian man as a previous employee of the Agrilat Swamp trust. I talk to him when I can, and when I do, he seems to trust me more than any other of his customers which is humbling to know yet disturbing at the same time.

 

After browsing a handful of shops on the Isle, I walked back. I was convinced I came out all this way to actually buy something but now I know I just wanted to see what Jorgt was up to. I can relate to him. Though only because I know that like me, he has that certain vibe that I feel when I look out onto an open view of Nar Shaddaa. I would never admit it to anyone, but Nar Shaddaa is, for lack of a better word, magnetic and he feels this as do I. As I walked back to the Refugee Sector, I looked out onto the flight lane with a magnificent view of the skyline. I could see the shady habitants of Red Sector in the distance and the various scattered traffic in the sky. This is the reason why I am here. The energy and passion driving these people creates a positive effect on me. I stand here for hours and try to listen to these voices, this energy. In essence, I tolerate this noise and energy, but no matter how hard I try, when I focus in on one object or instance of sound, I cannot and after a while it fazes out and becomes white noise. Unreadable and unbearable to me, the feeling I get disappears and blends into the background once again. I turn about and head home.

 

I occasionally think back to the origins of my ‘Journey’. I worked as a courier, delivering vital machine parts to people with time on their hands. I can’t say it was the job and life I always dreamed of and at times it was a tense job, but it paid well. The day I received a time sensitive part to deliver to a retailer on Nar Shaddaa was a day I can never forget. I had never heard of this moon before and had to request instructions at least 3 times before I arrived in the Y’Toub system. On the fly in to the thirty third Trading sector, I was fascinated by the skyline and that same energy I feel even now. It was much like Coruscant but with a decayed look, although unlike the inhabitants of Coruscant, here people were trying aim high. ‘Coruscant is the place where the people have already aimed high enough’ I thought to myself as I touched down on an unsanctioned landing pad and begun embarkation procedure. When I had landed, I pretty much left everything including the machine parts taking only what I needed to survive. Somehow, I knew that I would not be back so I code-locked the ship and set out. I believe the owner of the landing pad had the whole thing severed since he could not access the ship and built a new pad in its place. The ship and subsequent landing pad are now somewhere in the pitch black depths of Nar Shaddaa. This didn’t bother me at first, knowing that the few people I left behind would completely forget about me in a few cycles and that Rendili would have one less customer because of my antics.

 

It was only a few days into my time here that I realized I had left not just my job behind, but my life. Things began to work on my mind such as ‘What if someone from Rendili finds me?’ or worse ‘What if someone hired by Rendili finds me?’ The thirty third Trading Sector was a rough place and it was clear that if I was to survive here, I would need to lie low and blend into the environment. I was told about the Refugee Sector by a few locals, it wasn’t an easy place to get to as it is conveniently cut off from more industrial parts of Nar Shaddaa. Adding to that, I knew that travelling by vehicle would be too risky. It was a way to cover my back in the case of, if someone did know I landed on Nar Shaddaa they would have no trace of me still being here. I only remember fragments of the journey from thirty third to the Refugee Sector. It was difficult and I spent a lot of time sleeping in alleyways, alcoves and bins: The latter of which felt oddly comfortably compared to sleeping on a slab of ferrocrete. I can only assume it was an interesting journey. Constant dehydration and hunger forced me to hallucinate more than half the time keeping me in a constantly dazed state. The worst part of the journey came when crossing that Delta-Ankara void where the massive ships of Ankara Corp used to dock. It wasn’t the void that bothered me as there were many walkways all moderately maintained. It was the quiet. It is a significantly lower part of Nar Shaddaa and owned by the company Ankara Corp and therefore completely empty as Ankara Corp were wiped out when half of Peragus was blown out into space. Nar Shaddaa can be a hive of activity, but the deathly quiet, ferrocrete carved voids of the depths are enough to shatter anybody both physically and mentally. Not one time did I encounter anybody whilst in those depths, but the energy and the strength to keep going were there. After travelling through several large air filtration systems, I managed to crawl through a space in the vents to the rear entrance of the bar called Jekk’Jekk Tarr. This marked my less than glorious entrance into the Refugee Sector. I crossed a small crowd that had gathered in front of the Jekk’Jekk Tarr. Apparently, a fight had erupted in the bar just minutes earlier and almost every patron was killed. This unfortunate event allowed me to sneak into the main habitation of the Refugee Sector past the exchange guards who were now occupied at the Jekk’Jekk Tarr incident: Thus allowing me to take up space in an un-occupied cargo cylinder. The timing could not have been better as hours later, the crime lord Goto was killed when his yacht was destroyed over Nar Shaddaa. People cheered and celebrated within the Refugee Sector as things had changed for the better according to the locals.

 

But that was then. Today I went to the Docking port connected to the Refugee Sector. Rumour has it; a ship containing Refugees had just docked and dumped them with no explanation or papers. This wasn’t a rare occurrence as it has been known for pirates to receive distress calls and rescue pilots and crews then dump them here whilst salvaging their vessel to claim as scrap. I made it my job to get to them as quickly as possible as people were already by now onto them to attack for credits and whatever valuables they may be carrying. Running to the second pylon, I collided with Jorgt. ”Hold there friend” I said as he struggled to get out of my grasp. “Hey watch it” he motioned towards the oncoming crowd of Refugees that had just arrived. There were more than I expected. I asked Jorgt why he had left his shop to come out here. “Ahh you know me, potential customers, selling pitch an all that” he said looking at me with a strong demeanour. I could tell he was lying, and he knew that I knew. He shook off the look as in a way to say, if you don’t buy that then don’t ask again. He was clearly rattled, but he drifted off into the crowd and seemingly disappeared.

 

The incident with Jorgt got me thinking later that day. Why had he been there? He isn’t the sort to help people and he never promotes his business. In fact he cares very little about his business. Still there were more important things to deal with than Jorgt’s life such as the forty three new occupants of the Refugee Sector. I got talking to one of them who claimed to be a master Droid Technician onboard a ship called the Calistoga, a Republic cruiser. They had a crew of one hundred fifty but a fair few died when the ship struck a graviton mine. Although horrible of me to say, it’s probably just as well. If one hundred and fifty people ended up here, I certainly wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. The rest of the crew were killed in a failed revolt on the pirate vessel when they realized there was a grand plan. For the next few days I decided to help the Republic crew settle into cargo cylinders and gather supplies and food for them.

 

I have got to know the master Droid Technician extremely well recently. She told me a lot about the ship and the current state of the Republic. I have to admit, it was refreshing to hear of news from outside of Nar Shaddaa for a change. She really opened up to me, discussing the future of her and the rest of the Calistoga crew. I took her to the spot not long ago, where you can look out on all of Nar Shaddaa and I feel most alive. She looked a little puzzled when I explained the beauty of Nar Shaddaa to her. Yet she looked at me with understanding and with an almost child-like curiosity, I could stand there for hours and there with her for days. There was very little to do on Nar Shaddaa, especially for a Republic officer. So we went to points around the Refugee Sector and just beyond trying to get the best views and feel the positive energy of so many in our view at once. I took her and two other Calistoga crew members to Spacers Isle. The two other members of the Calistoga were fascinated by the cargo slicing process so after introducing them to a friend who co-runs the operation, they snuck off to the warehouse whilst me and Naidor-Re’pus (the Droid Technician) went to Jorgt’s. It was a fairly brief meeting as Jorgt supposedly had to be somewhere but I introduced them and got the low-down from Jorgt on what has been happening recently. It was only later that Naidor turned to me and said there was something very familiar about Jorgt. I was surprised but then again I wasn’t. “I think I’ll put it down to the fact that Jorgt is a generic looking man but you’re not the first person to say that” I said. The look in her eyes told me she was trying hard to remember when she had seen him, but if she did she, didn’t say anything.

 

About three days later, I was awoken by an almighty rumble. The Republic vessel Aquitania was docking at all three pylons in the docking port. About thirty Republic soldiers poured out of the hatch and marched defensively towards the Refugee Sector down the ramps and into the main area where the Calistoga survivors greeted them with open arms. Naidor told me that the Aquitania had received the distress call of the Calistoga and after days of interrogation, threats and wild-bantha-chases the Aquitania discovered the logs of the pirate ship which lead them to Nar Shaddaa. She and the others were certainly happy to see the faces of Republic soldiers again. I on the other hand wasn’t happy to see them go, and to see her go. Fortunately, the Aquitania was in no rush. They stayed for half a day, generously treating the people in the immediate vicinity of the Refugee Sector giving out their food and supplies as much as they could. I had a talk with the commander of the Aquitania who said that unfortunately most of the non-Republic people in the refugee sector could not travel with them on the journey back to Coruscant. The ship will already be at a maximum capacity with the Calistoga survivors already on board. However I managed to get a few people onboard, including Geriel who was ever thankful.

 

I didn’t see Naidor in the final hours before the Aquitania left. This upset me greatly, whilst I was happy that she left to live the rest of her life, every time I thought about it reminded me of how I will never see her again. I slowly walked back to my cargo container. I thought to myself, that there were many things I could have done to be on that ship with her, yet I didn’t. Why? What is it keeping me here? I got back to my Cargo Cylinder and there was a datapad lying on the floor. One recording added. It said on the screen. I picked it up and hit proceed. “I am sorry I could not give this to you personally, instead I had Geriel drop this off at your cylinder before the ship left. I was sifting through the Aquitania’s databanks and I found something interesting. Restricted information on your friend Jorgt, only, restricted by key members of the Senate itself. There is more going on here than meets the eye. I cannot divulge the Republic data on this datapad as it will never be able to leave the ship, you have to leave Nar Shaddaa and head to Coruscant. I will be waiting and do not tell Jorgt”

 

To be Continued…

[Diego Varen]

Looks interesting. It seems so far that two of you Ahtonauts have decided to write Fics (You and TheSuperRodian). Well I'm looking foward to more.

[TSR]

Good shiz! i like it

[HerbieZ]

Thanks. Good news, part two is coming along nicely. It's going to be about a week but i have developed a fantastic plot twist which is reminiscent of the way the Sixth Sense played out. (and no one of them is not dead). I surprised you did'nt see my little nod to you my friend super rodian. As we are both no longer [fic] virgins, i put a reference of you into the story. It's in there. Look hard

 

EDIT: You'l know what it is when you work it out.

[TSR]

ooh, i'm looking, i'm looking!

Is it the part about me owning everyone in the JJT?