In the Shadow of Ziost

[Micah tol Powl]

| VOSS
| The City of Voss-Ka

The HoloNews had been all over the story for the last hour.

The Primeval had routed the Silver Jedi and the Coalition from the planet Ziost. The spin doctors selling it as the advancement of a fundamentalist cult led by a crazed dictator with delusions of godhood. Were he anywhere else, the young Pantoran might have celebrated.

No, that wouldn't be quite right.

He hadn't celebrated after Wayland. Or Belkadan. Or Ord Janon. Instead, while others had taken to drunken revelry, the young Pantoran had taken up a medpac and started tending to the wounds of those who had littered the widowing fields. For what was it to celebrate while others still suffered? If they won, they won only because it was the will of Sargon. If they lost, that too may simply be the will of the gods.

A lack of faith. A test. Or just the reality that the gods answer prayers, but sometimes they answer, 'no.'

Were he anywhere else, the young Pantoran might have at least been himself. But he wasn't anywhere else. He was on Voss. Attending to studies with the Levantine Academy abroad with the Frontier Corps. And so the Primeval victory at Ziost meant that now the boy could be anything except for who and what he was.

He was Primeval.

Everyone he went to school with knew it. Religious prayer beads hung from around his neck. A concession on his part, as the beads were meant to be wrapped around the arm. Except the Levantine Academy uniform regulations for cadets didn't permit that kind of ornamentation, and so Boo compromised by wearing them as a necklace, so that the reverie crystal was close to his heart even when he prayed silently to himself without the ability to touch the icon or the prayer aids.

Perhaps even more disturbing, the Bleeding Sun hadn't even told him about the invasion. Instead, he'd learned about from the news like so many others. An Exemplar, the boy had represented the Host Lord to entire governments and major crime syndicates. He'd led troops at Wayland and again at Ord Janon.

Did the Primeval feel that he was too close to the Silvers?

When the Bleeding Sun had arranged for the boy to attend the Levantine Academy on Laekia, no one had known or suspected that the Sanctum and the Silver Jedi would merge to form the Coalition. He had attended the Academy openly, unafraid of what people thought of him because there was no bad blood between them. The Levantines gave not a single chit what the Primeval did, or was, and the Host Lord seemed disinclined to concern herself with the affairs of the Levantines.

But the Silver Jedi.

Why did the Primeval and the Silver Jedi war as they did? Did anyone know the answer? Was there an answer? It seemed a rivalry which now existed for no other reason that its own. Hate for hate's sake.

The sad thing was, Boo didn't necessarily dislike the Silvers that he had met. Even [member="Asaak Tey"] and the unfortunate events that had transpired at the Ball on Bastion. He harbored no ill will toward them, and yet felt caged now by the weight of eyes upon him.

Because he was different.

He didn't feel conflicted at being a Darksider in the thick of Jedi. The Force did not define him, nor did he attempt to define it. But the Primeval, faith in Sargon, that went to everything he knew or believed about the existence of his very soul.

Trying to hide his faith. Losing his religion while trying to get through the day as unobtrusively as possible. To not draw attention to the fact that he was different. To appear unfazed at how ostracized he'd become by the transition from Oswaft Station to here. To not feel isolated or alone, when he was very much both.

It was noon, so he headed out around the spaceport in search of something to eat. A Biscuit Baron or McYodas was sure to be nearby, some place he could duck into.

To eat alone.

Because who here would want to eat with a Primeval kid?

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

Ren should have cared more.

But how could he? It had happened to no one he knew, the only person he really cared about was the woman who introduced him to the temple and a handful of Padawans who had tried to befriend him in the past. Still, he felt appalled and disgraced with the fact that he just really didn't care. There was no emotion. At least none on the outside, sure, he felt a tinge of remorse, but that was about it.

He fell out of his thoughts and returned his main focus to the huge screen in the plaza from where he had been watching the news, along with a few horrified and panic-stricken civilians. Why do people do that? Why would they act like it's affected them in any way, they didn't see the horrors that Ren's peers had faced on that dark, malevolent planet.

They had no clue.

Yet here they stood, acting as if someone they knew had died. It was embarrassing. After scanning the crowd around him for another six minutes, Ren stormed off in the other direction. He stomped, clearly annoyed, through the moronic space chimps that were huddled together like cattle to the slaughter.

Then, just as he had passed the last wave of people, he felt something:

His stomach was growling.

Well, he couldn't just let his emotions run wild for the first time ever on an empty stomach now could he? And so, Ren wandered further down the Main Street of Voss-Ka until he found a nice little cafe. Well, nice was one word, it sort of looked like it was taken straight out of the planet Nar Shaddaa, still, Ren picked an outside seat, and sunk into the metal chair.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

A Vorzyd slider, handful of mayo-ketchup packets, and a large fizzyglug.

The Pantoran might have been in heaven. This was definitely better than the food served on Frontier Corps ships. Or the Levantine Astronautical Academy cafeteria on Oswaft Station. Boo didn't know where the Levantines recruited their cooks from, but he was pretty sure that they didn't know how to cook at all.

Come to think of it, the Primveal Fleet was kind of the same way.

Maybe that was the just the nature of space travel, so that you appreciated being on planet more. In any case, the boy set his tray of food down at a table outside and then pulled out a metal chair as he sat down. Propping his elbows on the table top, the tweenage youngling cut his eyes to the left and right. A handful of people absorbed in their own conversations and a boy who seemed a few years older than the Pantoran, who seemed to be brooding.

No one paying all that much attention to him then.

Reaching inside of the neckline of his blue uniform tunic, the boy pulled out the string of prayer beads that were normally concealed by the garment. Careful to try and hold the reverie crystal in a way that shielded it from view by most, the boy inclined his head as he said a quiet prayer over the food.

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

"And a Shawda club sandwich please," replied Ren as he folded the menu and handed it to his waitress.

This cafe was nicer than he had expected. It was quaint, and luckily for Ren, there were very few seats outside, almost no one was out here with him.

Almost.

There was another boy, a Pantoran who wore some kind of uniform. He looked a little odd, sitting alone, staring at some object, but then again, so did Ren. He wasn't sure how old the boy was, but he was almost certain that he was younger. Most likely eleven or twelve.

It was weird.

Ren almost never analyzed someone this much. Yet, for some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off the boy.

"It's probably just your urges Ren, just control them and move on."

And he did.

For a minute.

Then just like before, he was staring at the kid. What was it about this kid that Ren was finding so intriguing? Ren couldn't help but feel like he was reminded of someone while looking at him. Maybe it was...Himself.

Then, right in the middle of his thought process, he stood up. Why was he standing up? He stepped forward. Why? Another step forward. What was going on? And then a walk. What was he doing? Why wasn't he stopping? This wasn't like himself. Before he knew it, he was there, in front of the boy. This was enough, he should go back.

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?"

Damn.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

He had both hands wrapped around the slider.

He had two hands full of beefhead patty. That was better than two scoops full of raisins. Grilled mushrooms, kibi strips, and special sauce wedged between two toasted slices of medium-density foodboard. It wasn't just lunch, it was a work of art. Sadly, it was also delicious. And, as such, the Pantoran started to bring the slider up as he brought his head down to take a bite...

"Hey, do you mind if I sit here?"

The question pulled the boy's head up. A temporary reprieve for the sandwich clutched in his hands. From over the top of the burger, amber eyes peered up to find a skinny teen staring down at him. The Pantoran's golden eyes peered back at the other boy for a moment. The brown eyes only a few shades darker than that of Boo's people. The interruption startled the boy only because he hadn't expected the question.

Which, the silence now lingering was probably going to get awkward if he didn't do something soon. "Yeah..." the boy answered easily, removing one ketchup stained hand from off the greasy burger to gesture toward the empty chair as an invitation to join him.

Odd fact: Boo spent a lot of time with the quasi-military Levantine Academy, or the Golden Banner of the Primeval. And he'd had enough quality time with the Sith to last him a lifetime. The point of which was, he knew how to talk to people in various settings. Usually addressing people as 'sir' or 'lady' or 'master'... but he rarely got much opportunity to interact with other kids.

So what did kids call themselves? Man? Guy? Dude? Bro? Brah?

"...fella."

Even as the word left his mouth, the Pantoran stopped, inwardly wincing at the sound of his own voice echoing in his ears.

Fella. Seriously, what the ever-fething kark was that?

Clearing his throat, in part to dislodge the foot that was now lodged in his proverbial mouth, the blue-skinned youth opted for a more natural approach. "I'm Boo."

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

"Oh, um, Ren." He said while pulling out the chair.

He felt like he was losing his mind. There was the anti-social, shut in part of him that wanted to just go and sit back down at his table, and then there was this new guy, some braver, more cordial version of himself. Oh yeah, there was no way he was losing his mind.

"Hey, uh, I was just wondering, are you apart of some Academy or something?"

Ah yes, this friendly Ren was opening his big fat mouth of his, again. He almost mocked himself for asking such a stupid question. A better one would be why he's even here. There's no absolute reason for him to be talking to this boy. He could even be a cold-blooded killer, he could be holding a gun in his belt. Just to be sure, Ren looked at an angle under his seat. He scanned the boy's waist for any kind of arms, noticing a silver, metallic object on his belt, he sunk a little further in his seat to see the object of interest. Ren could hardly make it out, but, it looked like...

A lightsaber.

He's a Jedi? Wait, Ren, he could also be a Sith. No, that doesn't make sense, why would a Sith be on Voss? It's craawling with Silvers and Coalition members. So, this boy had to be a Jedi. This was good. More information. He needed to keep this information to himself. Then, before the younger male could answer Ren's first question, Friendly Ren spoke:

"Are you a Jedi?"

This Friendly Ren is starting to become a pain in the back.



[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

At the first question, the young Pantoran had just picked up his soda and popped the straw into his mouth.

Seriously, what part of cadet uniform didn't he ge...

"Are you a Jedi?"

He almost spit Fizzyglug across the cafe patio, sputtering and coughing as soda went up his nose, down his throat, and all the while he was trying to breathe. The pale blue skin blanched slightly, then turned a slight shade of violet as his face became flush. "What?" the tween managed finally, his multitude of expressions expressing both utter confusion and surprise such that he didn't even know what to say to that. Finally, the boy looked down and realized he was still wearing his lightsaber. A smooth, silver cylinder with an elaborate weave of black leather accentuating the grip.

It usually stayed in his Rescue Diver kit. As a logistics officer, the cadet didn't have much plausible reason to carry weapons on him. But after an encounter with a Sith Undead on a mission to Solovarna, he'd not wanted to let his guard down. "Oh, the..."

Well, that explained the question. But it really made the answer only more complicated.

"Kinda, I guess," the Pantoran offered vaguely. Not for wanting to be evasive. He honestly wasn't sure how to answer that. So, he went back to the first question instead. "You've heard of the Coalition Frontier Corps?" the boy asked.

He assumed that the older boy would have. The Frontier Corps had been the Levantine Sanctum's equivalent to the Silver Jedi Antarian Rangers. Since the Coalition had been founded though, the Rangers had adopted more of a border patrol role, while the Frontier Corps pushed the boundaries of exploration. "I'm a cadet from Oswaft Station. The Levantine Astronautical Academy," the boy answered, not certain if that answered the teen's question or not.

"Are you a Jedi?"

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

Ren was horrified and disgusted.

As most people would be after seeing a child nearly choke themselves to death while their saliva and drink residue sprayed all over the place.

Including Ren's face.

After wiping some remaining liquid off his face, he recieved his answer, as well as a question.

"Yes, yes I am."

He then unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and placed it on the table.

"I'm also a member of The Coalition."

His face took a sadder tone to it, and he replied with a seemingly, out of the blue, randomly depressing response:

"Although you'd think after being a member of the Silver Jedi for so long you'd eventually have some friends..."

 

[Micah tol Powl]

"Oh."

Of course he was a Jedi. He was a human. On Voss. What else would he be? Even still, the Pantoran couldn't help the slightest bit of disappointment in his voice as he said it. It'd be nice to meet someone who wasn't going to instantly judge him just for being him.

A Jedi? A Jedi was going to sense the Dark Side and probably assume that the boy was a Sith.

Even still, the boy watched as the teen wiped at his face. "Sorry about..." the boy began, passing a handful of cheap, thin napkins over for the other boy to use. What was he supposed to say? Sorry for spitting in your face? I hope you like Lipana Berry Fizzyglug? "You know..."

You know. The thing. The soda all up in your face thing.

Because he couldn't seem to think of anything else to do, or say, the Pantoran took a bite out of his sandwich. Silence blanketed the table, becoming awkward by the time that the youth had swallowed and looked back up.

The teen was a Jedi. But, the sentiment behind his words was one that the Pantoran could understand only too well. After all, there weren't a whole lot of kids his age who attended the Astronautical Academy.

And even fewer in the Bleeding Sun. Which, was a good thing. Boo wouldn't wish his line of work on his worst enemy. He'd just wound up an unwilling passenger on a train bound for nowhere fast, and didn't know how to get off.

"I was gonna hit the arcade," the blue-skinned youth remarked finally, taking a second bite out of his burger. Reaching for his soda, the boy added, "There's one over by Frik's Market."

Yeah. Like that was going to happen. A Jedi kid and a Primeval kid go to an arcane and find the answer to galactic fething peace over dropping credits into Wookiee Warpath.

So why had he offered?

What was the Jedi kid even still doing here?

What was Boo for that matter?

"My ship doesn't depart for another rotation... so..." the Pantoran stammered, trying to fill the gap in the conversation. "...you wouldn't, like..." Man, how did just talking to people get to be so awkward?

Oh yeah, because you had to talk behind masks. That was always fun.

"Wanna come?"

As his amber eyes looked up, the Pantoran wasn't sure which he was more afraid of. That the teen would say no. Or that he'd say yes.

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

Ren hesitated.

It's not that he didn't want to go. It's not that he didn't want to talk with Boo. It was that he knew he would say yes.

And what would be wrong with going to an arcade with a kid younger than him?

Nothing, if it weren't for the fact that Ren was noticing something consistent and interesting about the way Boo spoke. Ren was simply seeing himself in the other juvenile. And of course, that scared him, but then again, what didn't?

Ren had never met someone like him before, so was it a crime that he didn't want to go? Well, Friendly Ren would have said yes, but no, there was nothing wrong in it. There is nothing wrong with being afraid. It's what makes people and creatures who they are. Everything acts on their fears, for good and for bad, so, how could Ren even be considered a coward? How could he?

Because he was one.

He'd always been one, but maybe, maybe it was time to change, and it looked like the first step to that change needed to happen now.

"Sure."

He was silently thanking Friendly Ren for taking over as pilot.

Until he noticed it, his food, his delicious Shawda club sandwich being placed on to his previous table by a somewhat confused Rodian waitress.

"One moment please."

Ren briskly walked over to the platter, picked it up, then ran back to his seat.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

This wasn't happening.

Blinking, the young Pantoran just sat there, completely frozen, as the other boy moved to get his tray of food.

This couldn't be happening. He was a Jedi! And Boo was... well, about the farthest thing from. So, no, this couldn't be happening right now. And yet, there he was, sitting back down with his food, as the two prepared to go off to play hologames together.

Weren't they supposed to hate each other? Lightsabers at ten paces? Something like that?

And, yet, the Pantoran didn't hate any of the Coalition people he knew. [member="Coren Starchaser"] was a member of the Coalition, and he was all right. And this teenager seemed like a pretty normal kid. In fact, something about him reminded the Pantoran of himself. Not really fitting in. Not really having friends, or people he could talk to.

In part, he supposed it was how often he'd moved around. Coruscant to Bastion. Bastion to Laekia. Laekia to... wherever the Event Horizon was headed off to. Voss. Solovarna. Weren't the Jedi the same way? I mean, the kid across from him was human. So, he wouldn't be from Voss, right? "So where are you from?" the boy asked, in between bites of hamburger.

"Originally, I mean."

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

Well that was sort of an odd question. Nevertheless, Ren replied.

"I was born on Corellia."

He didn't really like talking about his past, but somehow, it was different with Boo, he felt...

Safer.

"I lived there with my Mom before the Silvers picked me up."

As with most stories, something had been left out, Ren wasn't ready to really discuss that. Yes, he trusted Boo, but even then, he wasn't ready to talk about Alema yet, or those worthless scumbags.

Ren always knew there would come a time when he encountered his birth parents again, although, as bounty hunters, their confrontation might not be one Ren will like to remember. If possible, he would never see them again, although, the increasing amount of wanted displays and latest news reports suggested they were here on Voss.

They wouldn't track him down. After they gave him up all those years ago. They wouldn't.

No, only Alema would ever bother with seeing him again. She was his real Mom.

Oh wait. There's another person here.

Had Ren just been staring at the wall like a zombie? That's embarassing. Quickly, he regained his composure and spoke to Boo again.

"How about you?"

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Well, that was a loaded question.

Not unexpected. And, for that, he had no one to blame but himself. Still, how was he supposed to answer?

Whenever he was acting under cover, using a fake student identicard and the name of a former Levantine student, the boy would say that he was from Orto Plutonia. Which, given than there were just as many Pantorans living on Orto Plutonia as on their native moon of Pantora, it was almost an answer than people expected. So no one ever doubted or thought twice about the fact that it was a lie.

His actual identicard and student ID said something different, which was also a lie. It said that Bastion was his homeworld. And, that much was true, from a certain point of view.

The fact that Boo was originally from Coruscant said much about his past that he wouldn't talk about. Not even with the prylars of the Primeval. "I'm sorry," the boy offered, hanging his head slightly. So the kid was from Corellia, huh? Word was that the One Sith had worked that planet over so hard that it had split into two pieces. "...about Corellia, that is," the boy added, clarifying the conciliatory remark somewhat.

That left the matter of just how to reply to his own question.

A convenient lie? Or an inconvenient truth?

What was probably inconvenient was the reality that, while a convenient lie might satisfy the conversation for the moment, the fact that other Levantine cadets knew the Pantoran to be a Primeval exchange student meant that it was only a matter of time before someone made mention of that fact to Ren. Particularly if they were seen together. A Primeval and a Jedi. A Silver Jedi no less.

At least the Primeval hadn't invaded the Galactic Republic.

Silver Jedi? Now, that was a different story...

"Bastion," the boy stated, as though offering up a confession. Raising his eyes up to look at the older boy, the Pantoran said, "I'm an exchange student from the Primeval."

And you shall know the truth, or part of it at least, and the truth shall... brand you a demon. A witch. The devil.

Shifting in his chair awkwardly, the boy hesitated a moment before he offered, "You... don't have to sit here, if you..."

The words just kind of died on his tongue. What was he even trying to say?

"I mean, it's cool if you'd rather not... you know, be seen with me." Yeah. Hang with the Primeval kid on Voss. All the cool kids would only hate your guts for it.

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

"Why? Because you're Primeval? Please, you probably shouldn't sit with me, I'm not exactly the most social person in the temple you know."

Ren chuckled as he spoke about his social life, then took a bite of his Shawda club, and while eating, he attempted to comfort the other boy.

"Sho, why dich you tshink I would hatesh you?"

After finishing his sentence, Ren noticed that his food had almost completely coated Boo and the table with various ingredients from his delicious, warm sandwich.

"Sorry." Ren smiled as he apologized, then, started laughing. He was laughing? When was the last time that had happened? Why now? And why did laughing feel so good?

Is this what normal people are like? All these new emotions should have terrified Ren, so why wasn't he trying to push them away. Did he feel...

Happy?

 

[Micah tol Powl]

The boy just blinked.

He was Primeval. And this other boy was Jedi. And they were going to go to the arcade together. And they were sitting here, having lunch, and... everyone was okay with this?

The Pantoran winced as a piece of partially chewed meat hit just below his eye. As the boy spoke with his mouth full, the tween held up a hand to try and shield himself. Then, as Ren apologized, the blue-skinned youth picked up an un-opened ketchup packet and lobbed it at the other boy. Even as he did, he was smiling and laughing as well. The feeling seemingly infectious.

Reaching up a hand, the boy swept the piece of food from his face and then returned to his own sandwich.

He had someone to eat with, and to go to the arcade with. It wasn't something he'd expected. And it hadn't been something he'd been looking to find... but, all of the sudden, he was struck by how good it felt to have a friend.

[member="Ren Colvet"]​

 

[Ren Colvet]

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

Ah yes, this was happiness, how long had it been since Ren had felt like this?

Since Alema.

What was this? Nostalgia day? Why was Ren focusing so much on the past when today, in the present, he was having so much fun. Why? Was it....because of them? They aren't going to look for him. After so many years, why would they bother? Besides! They were bounty hunters! Greedy, selfish scum who only care about themselves and money.

But, the Force...he felt something, like something was about to go wrong, he was feeling emotions from the future, fear, anger, despair. It was horrible, slowly, the dark future was knotting his chest in half.

Maybe, the Primeval boy, maybe they weren't destined to be friends, maybe...maybe he would be the one to fight?

"No, Ren, you can't think that everyone will betray you, Boo is your friend, he will not harm you," Friendly-mind-Ren said to him.

Friendly Ren was right. Boo would not harm him. But then, who would? And why? He felt a shiver, a presence, one he had not felt since...

Ren's eyes bulged. "No, this isn't happening."

Quickly, he three money onto the table, grabbed Boo's hand, and pulled him out of the cafe.

"We should hurry to the arcade before any lines get big."

That was a lie. Boo could probably hear it in his trembling voice, but it didn't matter, he needed to protect Boo and himself. Because now, now he could deny it no longer. They were here. His parents were here.

And they were coming for him.