Learn To Be More Than You Are

[Leos Palle]

He didn't know how it was that he'd come to be on Serreno. Not specifically. He didn't know the world he'd come from, but he'd secured passage off of it when it became clear to him that he wasn't going to be getting anywhere with his life if he remained there. That passage had come in the form of a ride on a charter vessel, and he'd had to pay his way by working, but that hadn't been too difficult. Sure, most of what he understood in life was in the aspect of physical combat, but he was also aware of other things. He did have a bit of a keen mind when it came to mechanics as well, so he served as the ships mechanic until he was let off on the forest world.

With not but a small pack slung over his shoulders and the clothes on his back, he set out to make something of himself. Of course the first thing he tried was going to the cantina's. Being used to the seedier types, he knew how they operated, how to talk to them, how to get the answers that he needed. Most of his effort was wasted, of course. Even among the best of them, scum was ever known to be completely useless without giving them credits. But every so often you came across someone who genuinely wanted to help for whatever reason. Someone with a good soul, he supposed.

"Why ain't ya going to the Jedi if you want to learn the Force?" the grizzled human asked him.

"I have no desire to be a part of any of their orders. Corruption runs rampant among them," he said, his hands clasping a tankard of whatever passed for Serenno ale. "Call it a personal conviction."

"Fair enough, I suppose. We're not too far here from one of them, the Silvers. Heard tell a while back that one of their people blew up a civilian center or something like that on some world or other. Can't say I'd trust them either."

"Yes, I heard about it. Supposedly the culprit was then killed by another of their number. Either way, I've no desire to learn from the Jedi."

The man nodded and pointed a finger at him. "You ought to go to The Spike."

"Isn't that a prison?" he asked.

He'd done some research when he'd found out where he was going to end up.

"It is, but they're always looking for guards, and I think you might find what you're looking for there. Talk to Castin Males when you get there. Tell them Bartus sent ya."

"Very well," he said, finishing off his mead and moving to stand, setting a couple of coins, the few he had, onto the table. "Thank you for the assistance, Bartus."

"Anytime, kid," Bartus replied.

He turned to walk away, paying no further attention to those in the place as he slung his pack over his shoulder.

"Hey, kid. What's your name?"

A glance over his shoulder as his hand rested on the door frame brought his red eyes to meet the brown of Bartus.

"Just call me Electroheart."

With that, he walked out.

 

[Leos Palle]

The Spike was indeed a prison. It had taken him some time to find out where exactly it was and how to get there. A little bit of talking to this person and a little of talking to that. Humorously, a few people suggested that the fast way to get there was to commit a crime. He chose to avoid that method. Getting locked up wasn't a good way to get involved with the guards. Eventually he found someone that was heading out that way with supplies for the facility. He offered to help with loading and unloading of goods in order to secure passage. The elderly man agreed to the offer, though he was not short of curiosity.

"Why go to that dump to work? Plenty of places to work here, especially for a savvy Chiss," the man said as Electroheart loaded crates onto the speeder.

"It's not a matter of what the job is so much as who the job is with," he said, pausing for a moment to wipe sweat from his brow with a cloth. He'd found over the years that having metal arms did not make for easy sweat wicking. "There are particular people in the guard there I wish to work with."

"I see. So you're going to join them, then? You know they have very strict physical requirements!"

"I'm sure I can meet them."

"No doubt you can. No doubt indeed," the man said, trailing off.

He was certain the elderly man was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain, but he didn't dare acknowledge the looks by turning his gaze upon him. Drawing animosity from someone that was offering to do you a favor was not a good way to go about business. The man had offered him a ride and all he had to do was load some things onto a speeder. If he got into an argument over the way the man was looking at him, it would serve no benefit. Besides, it wasn't as if he was making advances or anything of that nature.

When the speeder was loaded, he climbed into the back of it with all the goods and found himself a reasonably comfortable spot where he could lay back and stare at the sky without fear of being thrown overboard. The speeder was a one seat cockpit variety, more like a hauler, so he couldn't ride in the comfort of conditioned air, but that was alright. When he'd been living in the slums of the city he hadn't had conditioned air either. He was contented to watch the clouds pass as they headed for the wastes. After all, he'd soon be working a full time job, and free time would be a luxury. Especially if he found what he was looking for.

 

[Leos Palle]

The speeder trip wasn't a short one. Not that he'd expected it to be. Most prisons weren't built right next to major metropolitan areas for the purpose of keeping the citizens safe from dangerous criminals should they escape. So he'd gotten to get some rest while they'd drove, and the rest of the time he'd spent staring up at the sky, watching the clouds, wondering what shapes they made since he had little frame of reference to what most children did. To be quite frank, when it came to mundane things, he was certain that most children would have a leg up on him. What little he did know of the galaxy had only been gleaned from searching through the holonet.

Eventually they did slow up and soon come to a stop. He sat up and saw the wastes as far as his eyes could see. Desolate, it was. Not the kind of place he really wanted to spend most of his time, but under the circumstances it would do. Turning about, he spotted the main above ground entry to the Spike, just as the doors opened. Two guards came out. When they saw him in the back they drew stun batons and started towards him.

"You've got a stowaway, Mattis!" one of them shouted.

"What?" the old man asked before looking back into the bed of the speeder. "Oh, no. He's a volunteer."

The guards stopped and looked between the two of them. It was, apparently, quite out of the ordinary for the old man to be bringing anyone along with him.

"Who volunteers to come to the Spike? You're not paying him?"

"He's not," he responded as he stood and grabbed his pack, slinging it over his shoulder. "I volunteered because I wanted to come here. I'm looking for a man named Castin Males."

That got the guards attention real quick. They looked at him, and then at each other. A few quiet words were shared and one jerked his baton back towards the entrance to the prison in a clear order to the other. He watched the one guard leave and then looked back to the other. It was clear that neither of these two were the man that he was looking for, but that wasn't surprising. He'd been under the impression that Castin was kind of important. Perhaps he was the warden. Going out to deal with the unloading of the usual supplies wasn't likely to be something he would do. Maybe the other guard had gone to fetch him since his name was mentioned, however.

"Well don't just stand there," the old man said, jerking his thumb at the boxes. "Start unloadin'!"

"Right."

He jumped out of the speeder and pulled one of the gravsleds free before he started placing one container after the next on it. It was his intent to make good on his word. He'd volunteered to help in order to obtain passage, so that was what he was going to do.

 

[Leos Palle]

When the last of the containers was unloaded from the speeder, the old man took his pay from the guards and left. If he wasn't allowed to join them, it was going to be a very long journey back to the nearest settlement. He was confident he could make it, though he hoped that he wouldn't have to try. The guard that had remained kept sizing him up, though his eyes unmistakably lingered on the metal arms that he bore. It wasn't anything that he wasn't used to dealing with, so he left it with no reply from him. They were definitely not something people normally would see. Given the propensity for synth-skin being used to cover them it only made sense. He didn't like the stuff, though. It was like hiding part of who he was.

The gates to the prison opened and a smaller man wearing a pristine uniform appeared. He stepped out and took one look at him before beckoning for him to approach. Hoisting his pack over his shoulder once again, he crossed the short distance between them and paused only when he judged he would be entering personal space. He did not wish to be intrusive, despite the man calling for him to come over and join him.

"You're the one who was looking for me, I take it?" the man asked. Clearly this was Castin. "Interesting to see a Chiss out here. Especially with arms like those. How'd you get them?"

A brief sigh escaped his lips before he responded.

"I don't rightly know," he said. "The oldest memory I have is of me waking up in an operating chamber with these arms and a bunch of people standing over me. I lost my memories, apparently, when they were installing these. They replaced my heart too."

"They didn't tell you who you were?"

"It would have been hard for them to do so since I had a bit of a breakdown and killed them all."

The other two guards stiffened at this, but Castin waved them down. It wasn't uncommon for someone who was newly awakened to have a mental lapse where everything fired every which way and things happened that normally wouldn't. Given the way he had come to the prison, it seemed only evident that it was a mere lapse in mental function and not serious intent. No criminal who had done what he just confessed to would come to a prison to seek work. Besides which, the man seemed overly confident in himself despite his diminutive size. Clearly Bartus had been right that there was more to this Castin Males than the fact he was a prison guard.

"Many would do the same in your situation," Castin said, opening his arms in a wave of hands. "Others wouldn't. We all react differently to situations like that."

"We do," he agreed.

"So why did you come here?"

"Looking for work, partly. Also I met a man named Bartus back in town, and he said I should look for you since you aren't a member of any of the orders, as it were."

"Ahh, I see." A smiled touched Castin's lips. "Well, come inside and we'll see what we can do for you. No sense standing around out here in this desolation. You're probably hungry, too. Let's get you fed and cleaned up, and then we can have a real talk."

Castin turned to head inside, and he followed the man with the other two guards bringing up the rear. He didn't know how it was going to go, but he was eager to find out, if only to see if he could make something of himself, or if he was going to have to keep looking.

 

[Leos Palle]

Inside proved to be exactly what one would expect from a prison. Dingy, noisy, and full of people that wanted to rip you apart. Not exactly the sort of place a normal person would usually choose to spend their time. Ultimately, that only made him more curious about the man that he'd been sent to meet. Why was he working in a prison? That said, why was he there to meet a man working in a prison. He could only shrug away his questions with that being the case. He didn't have a right to question the mans choice of work place when he'd come out there to meet him whilst knowing the work place and intending to work there himself.

Regardless, he was soon cleaned up and had gotten a bit of something to eat. They weren't going to spare too much considering they didn't know if he was going to stick around and they had limited food rations, even with the supply runs. He hadn't asked for it, though, so he was grateful to be given anything. When he was done, he was let into Castin's office, where he found the man watching security cameras, though a hand motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs.

"So what's a Chiss doing out here? You lot tend to stick close to home."

"What's a practitioner of the Force doing working as a prison guard?"

The man chuckled at this, glancing over to where he'd taken a seat. He didn't return the affectation however, his question genuine. He literally wanted to know what had brought the man to work in a prison rather than being out fighting against the darkness that plagued the galaxy. But, not everyone really understands a Chiss and their proclivity towards wanting facts. Granted not all Chiss are like that, but little did he know that he took a little bit after a certain Imperial Grand Admiral from many many years ago. If he had, he'd probably have been mortified. Either way, he was waiting for a response when Castin finally figured out he was being serious about his question.

"Oh. Well, not everyone is cut out for warfare, and most of us were hunted down and killed ages ago. This is the age of lightsabers and the powers of the Force some of us can't wield. So we decided to do our good deeds by keeping the bad ones locked up. Some of us work at prisons throughout the galaxy. It's become something of a staple for us."

"I see," he said, offering a thoughtful scrunching of his nose.

"Why did you come here and not go to the Jedi?"

"Jedi are as corrupt as Sith these days. I want no part of that. I aim to help people, not make things worse by murdering them in the name of stopping the Sith. Plus I can't do what most people can since I can't channel the Force through my arms. I don't even have a real heart."

Castin blinked at this but nodded his head.

"Fair enough. Well, we could use some help around here and I can teach you what I know in your spare time. It'll probably come in handy around here anyway. We'll get you fitted and quarters assigned. You can leave your things with the quartermaster. He'll keep them locked away safely. In the meantime. How about a tour?"