Operation Snowblind

[Damian Starchaser]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oiKUtHXDAg

It had been a few weeks since Damian's last excursion which had left him bedridden. In his short time operating in known space he’d been shot, stabbed, and blown up, which isn’t to discount the times he’d been forced to crash or otherwise beaten to a pulp by a large and aggressive Sith Lord. his latest excursion had him dislocate and break his shoulder while falling from a great height. The fall would have killed him had he not cushioned the blow with an panicked push of the force, but instead it had merely left him broken and in need of recovery. Still he managed to complete his object and lived to tell the tale.

The Evaluation process to get him back in the field was painful. Bacta and force induced healing took him far quartering, or more, the recovery time he needed and yet the shoulder still pained him to move and he had been taking it easy, or letting himself go if his Operations Officer was to be believed. Roland Moorcock. He was the man behind Chase Fashion and the more covert branch of the office. He had just called Damian to a meeting to talk about the latest medical evaluation and hopefully hand out some new leads to get Damian back in the field.

The office door was open to him at all hours, it was his spy agency after all and he footed the bill, so Damian just walked in giving his the secretary a nod. “Roland,” Damian said with a nod.

“I was just talking to your Uncle Coren,” Roland said sitting up in his chair. He’d never considered Damian his boss, indeed considering the company owner more like a subordinate at times. “And we were just trying to figure out what root vegetable you most resemble now.”

There was a pause as Damian stared flatly at the man. Sure he had been convalescing for a few weeks but that didn’t mean he wasn’t in good space.

“He said turnip, but I didn’t think it really fit your bulbous nature.”

“I assume this means my medical tests weren’t satisfactory?” Damain cut him off knowing the bit would last if he didn’t.

“No it was not,” Moorcock said. “You’re shoulder still has bruising, and your body is filled with toxic free radicals from too much red meat and dry martinis.”

“Well then I shall endeavour to eat less red meat. Do you have any leads for me?”

“No,” the man stared at him pulling his sunglasses down his nose to look over them at Damian, “You don’t get off that easy.” From the desk the man proffered an itinerary complete with check in times and dates.

Looking over the information Damian frowned. A resort high in the mountains covered with snow where winter sport and skiing was the activity of choice. Not ideal for him as he prefered more tropical climes. He kept reading however and found the appeal suddenly. A large dome resort structure built into the mountains provided for a tropical resort commingled with the subarctic temperature. “Complete with spa and facilities.”

“It’s perfect Roland,” Damian said waiting for the other foot to drop.

“Of course, and your Uncle thought since you don’t have any friends of your own you could go with a few Jedi.” Roland looked over at them, “ You’re going to meet a few people, and while you get back in shape you’re going to do some teaching. A padawan or whatever you lot call it.”

“Uncle Coren wants me to be a babysitter?”

“Oh no,” Roland responded with a little chuckle. “You have one of those meeting you there. So be on your best behavior.”

"I don't like that you two talk." The two stood there and stared for a moment Damian not speechless but rather in a state of apathetic shock.

“Well get going,” Roland finally said breaking the silence. “And don’t bring back holo pics. I don’t need to see pasty flabby bodies in swimming attire…. Robes I mean really?”

-----------------------​

The cabins and houses passed by as Damian drove up the road in the little sport speeder he had rented. He counted down the numbers, Chalet 014 only seven more to go, as he looked for the retreat his company had reserved. The company had reserved a private mountain top chalet for the small group. He arrived at the spaceport and arranged for his own speeder to be brought in so he could enjoy himself while he was here. Along the route he counted the various chalets and examined their entrances as best he could before passing the 007 Chalet rented by his company to examine possible escape routes before finally pulling up to the rental cabin.

In his line of work being anywhere at the designated time meant he was at the least thirty minutes late. There needed to be ample time to check a place out and examine the various avenues of ingress and egress, and make sure someone wasn’t setting up surveillance on you. So Damian arrived nearly an hour early to the site.He ran a scanner over the rooms of the chalet. A master bedroom with four other meant there would be plenty of room for himself and his guests. The house contained additional rooms, a small internal pool and hot tub, along with an entry hall and a further room designed most likely as a ballroom which could be utilized for training.

All of this was of course connected via private transit tubes to the various recreational facilities and attractions around the resort including the beach and various runs for winter sport. Near the roof behind the chalet was a pad capable of holding a small space craft. Damian had considered landing his own ship there, but was told one of his party was a pilot so out of courtesy left the pad open.

And there Damian went about making his preparations. Blaster pistol affixed under tables, hides made to store data devices in the short term and of course a chair to sit a the front door when his guests arrived.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

There were certain perks to being a Jedi. An innate connection to the Force, the power to influence people and events, a blastin' lightsaber of their own design, and the ability to choose when and where to go in the galaxy to ply their trade.

That is, a Jedi Knight or Jedi Master.

A Jedi Padawan's perks, by comparison, were a bit more meager. A tenuous connection to the force. Marginal, and often supervised, power to influence people and events. A standard lightsaber used by a dozen generations of Jedi Padawans before them.

And going when and where the Jedi Order told you to go.

In this case, it was the Jedi Academy Network telling Jerek he was needed for a mission. His other standing obligations wouldn't let him back out of it, the New Republic's Starfighter Corps had even granted the Network's automated leave request without a moment of hesitation. And the Jedi continued to hold the threat, though completely unspoken or even implied it was still there, of continued training and knighthood over his head if he didn't comply. So Jerek complied and met with the mission coordinator to get his assignment.

He was given only a pack of cold-weather gear and a set of coordinates.

The alpine world's frigid appearance had made Jerek shiver even from orbit. The swirling snow around his cockpit as he dived lower in the atmosphere made it feel even colder, despite his J-1 interceptor's life support systems working just fine. This had been one of the benefits of coming on this mission, and the boy had to admit he was enjoying flying his own ship again —Blue Squadron's starfighters weren't exactly made for Jedi Aces. As he passed over the target mountain, the padawan couldn't help but marvel at the enormous dome topping it, and managed to make several passes around it in awe before being told off by the local air traffic monitors.

Finding the exact location the coordinates specified didn't take much more time, and Jerek found himself preparing to land on a small pad attached to a chalet that looked half-snuggled into its blanket of snow. The teen shivered involuntarily once more, and began the landing procedures.

Slipping the provided parka over his flightsuit and grabbing the pack containing the rest of the cold-weather gear, as well as a few of his own meager belongings, Jerek opened the starship's canopy and extracated himself. The leap down was only a few feet, but the boy felt instantly unsteady on the iced-over surface of the landing pad, and he threw out a hand against his fighter to steady himself. He stood up again, shaking off the near-miss, and the few flakes of snow that had already landed in his long hair, and headed inside the chalet's rear access door.

"Hello?" Jerek called out once he'd gotten inside and shut the door against the buffeting cold and snow. He glanced about, but the inside of the building seemed to be deserted. Shrugging, the teen poked into a few rooms, finding the expected bedrooms, and in one, to his delight, a pool and hot tub. Making his way around to the entry hall, he stopped suddenly halfway into the room, turning to face the presence he felt seated in the chair behind him. "Oh, hey, there is someone here. I'm Jerek, I was sent here by the Jedi?"

[member="Damian Starchaser"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Damian sat in his chair and looked at the youth as he walked in. He tried to keep a smile off of his face, it wasn't so long ago he was a in a similar position meeting new people in a strange place on advise of those who were superior in position within a fractured order. That hadn't lasted long. Under the table Damian held onto a blaster. "A pleasure to meet you." The kid did fit the description and even the hologram he had for his contact, yet it was a large galaxy. Shapeshifters, holographic disguise nets, and even certain face altering makeup and masks could fool. The young man's knuckles clenched and loosened on the pistol grip.

Blonde, short, and young. Damian imagined people thinking the same thing of him in times past and now he was in charge of this little training exercise.What would he do? What he was asked to do, teach. He knew how his master had taught him, when he allowed himself to obey the lessons, but there was to life, more to jedi, than wielding a pseudo mystical preternatural power. Not knowing much of the spiritual side of the force Damian would be at a loss so instead he'd teach what he knew.... and what he knew wasn't pretty.

This was an awkward time, a time when he had to gauge and decide if he could trust this new person. Interviews were easier they contained a file with various personal information to try and question and confirm but in this case details were scant, probably made so purposely by Coren. "Damian Starchaser, but for our purposes I'm Damian Finn, an investment consultant by trade," he replied reaching out one hand while scanning for weapons with his eyes. "You weren't sent by the Jedi." In standing from his seat he showed the blaster in his hand to the youth. A table nearby held a small cloth shipping pouch normally used by couriers which he opened and pulled out a small datapad and read over the data quickly. along with an Identichip.

"And you're no longer [member="Jerek Zenduu"]," he said after verifying the last name. "You're now Jerek Finn, my little brother. We're here on holiday." Damian stared to gauge the reaction of the youth before continuing, "You will tell no one here that you're a Jedi."

Crossing the room Damian arrived back at the table sitting down and bringing up a terminal. "I'm ordering food, are you hungry?" Hopefully their babysitter [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"] would arrive before he missed dinner.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

The man claimed it was a pleasure to meet Jerek, but nothing in his voice or body language told the boy that was true. In fact, the man seemed to be anything but pleased. The padawan had the notion he had just walked into uncertainty, and that something troublesome was about to occur. The man's next words and actions seemed to only confirm that, yes, Jerek definitely had a bad feeling about this.

His Jedi training had taught him to be mindful, to remain open to possibilities, to trust in the Force.

"I'm who now?"

Or he could just blurt out an incredulous response, that could also work.

Jerek's mind tried to work back the chain of events that had transpired since he entered the room. The man called Damian Starchaser, though with the way he had casually discarded it made the boy wonder if it was his real name at all, was suspicious, paranoid, and, from the look of the blaster he bandied about, dangerous. Having a cover story thrown at him immediately, assuming an alias and obscuring the fact that he was a Jedi, this was not at all what he had expected when he had been assigned a mission.

These were the coordinates, right?

Damian Finn seemed to know who he was, though, based on more than the boy had volunteered himself. So this had to be somewhat legitimate. Yet this was not at all how Jedi were supposed to act, at least not how Jerek had been taught they did. Sure, he knew there were Jedi Shadows and informants, but surely they weren't this seedy, right?

When Damian mentioned food, the boy's stomach decided in that moment to groan and signal that he was, indeed, hungry. Nice of it to wait for this moment to tell him. He should have expected it, given the long flight over hyperspace, and the impromptu manner in which he had departed. Yet there were more pressing needs at the moment than hunger. "What's going on here?"

[member="Damian Starchaser"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Damian stared at the youth for a second before realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Coren didn't tell him anything. Staring for a moment he pushed the menu for the resorts food service over to Jerek before pinching the bridge of his nose. "So they told you nothing?" Taking a deep breath he looked around and then let a smile form on his face. "Well my instructions were to teach you. So for the duration of your stay with me you are Jerek Finn. You are my brother. The next few weeks we will be working on various skills and applications of the force. I'm going to teach you basic trade craft that will hopefully save your life someday."

Looking down at the menu Damian punched in his order. A bottle of Corelian whiskey, a bottle of fine wine produced on Alderaan, and a meal fit for royalty. He was tempted to switch the menu page to the kids menu for Jerek but instead let it sit on the page. "So let's order some food, and we'll start." Damian sat down at the table, putting the small holdout blaster down before leaning back a little. "I'll tell you what the person who tought me said. You're in intelligence now, it's time to start using some."

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Training?

Jerek thought he had been sent here to do something, that his skills were desired. He should have known it was the other way around. He wondered if he would ever truly understand the way the Jedi reasoning, or if he was to be doomed to always being a follower. Following had its uses, but it also came with its frustrations. Frustrations like these made him want to get back in his starfighter, fly fast and go shoot something.

Still, he was here now. Might as well make the best of it.

"Okay," Jerek Zenduu, now Jerek Finn for the duration of whatever the kark was really going on, nodded to the man at the table. He took a seat in another chair, glancing over the menu before quickly ordering a simple meal of his own. When he was done, he looked up and back at Damian. "I'm open to your wisdom, Master." No, wait, he had said Jerek wasn't supposed to act like a Jedi anymore. "I mean, Damian."

[member="Damian Starchaser"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Master, there was a title he hadn't earned, didn't deserve, and desired even less. "Even when we are Jedi, please don't call me master. I'm sure some Jedi out there would take offense." He didn't frown, resisting the urge to show he wasn't joking, instead he smiled. Dinner was ordered and the service was prompt. No fanfare and foolery here just a simple overpriced high class meal served to two wealthy young man out and about. Damian taught the young man table manners, which piece of silverware to use for what and how to behave in civilized company It was a quick lessen while they ate.

It was a pleasant enough experience, although Damian doubted neither of them wanted a quiet night in. Still the meal was over, the plates were cleared. "Normally now I'd suggest we get some rest, we have an early start." Damian stood up from the table and walked over to a nearby cabinet opening it and revealing a large number of bottles. He searched through the various labels before finding what he was looking for. "But right now I'm going to poison you."

Pulling a bottle he walked over by Jerek and placed a glass down in front of him. "Allow a wine to breath so the tannins soften and bring out the flavor. If you store the bottle on ice you want to do so only briefly, thirty minutes perhaps, so that the bottle is just under room temperature and slightly cool to the touch when lifting it. When pouring you always stay to the right of your guest and pour with the label facing them." he poured out half a glass for Jerek before pouring a full for himself. Placing the bottle of wine down he picked up a pitcher of water and filled the second half of Jerek's glass with that. It was how he was taught to drink as a kid, learning to enjoy the flavor and moderation. "Alcohol is one of the least offensive poisons so it works for our purposes." Damian was about to give away his greatest secret. While nearly always having a glass of something his hand he was never drunk. "We're going to use the force to neutralize this particular poison. Or else you're going to have a bad morning."

Bad influence Damian. Then again he'd been introduced to alcohol earlier than this, and was at least trying to be responsible. Still he'd have to watch the kid closely and make sure things didn't get out of hand. Being responsible sucked. "So for your first glass I want you to enjoy that, sip it slowly. Get used to how it feels in your system and how it effects you. Knowing the sensation is important to combat it." Not how Damian had learned to do this, but then again he didn't want the kid to have the same binge drinking experience he had after his master was imprisoned.... to say nothing of the ribs that [member="Darth Carnifex"] had broken a few days before that particular night out. And then he was ambushed by a sultry Zeltron... maybe when the kid was older.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Arcanus Sunstrider"]​

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Jerek was trying hard to keep everything straight. Damian Finn, no Starchaser, was not a Jedi Master. Damian Finn was somebody else, even though it was still the same person. Why couldn't they simply be honest and dispense with all the deceit and subterfuge? It would certainly make it easier for him to keep track of it all, the lies were already getting confusing in his head.

Then, as they finished dinner, Damian made it even more confusing. Jerek stared at the man, perplexed, as he asked, "You're going to what?!"

Poison. First deceit, now poison. The teen was starting to worry over the outcome of this mission, whatever it was truly supposed to be. Damian had talked about spending weeks here, a sour thought that turned Jerek's full stomach. He never felt queasy at times others could, like when seeing something horrifying, or flying, but this was somehow turning his stomach.

The glass in front of him was poured, half full of some kind of dark-colored liquid, as Damian chattered on about procedures. Jerek should have been listening, but he was too focused on the contents of the glass in front of him. A Jedi was supposed to keep an open mind, be willing to learn from anyone, but what the man before him was teaching hardly seemed like a Jedi technique. At least not the techniques he had been taught at the Jedi Academy on Ossus.

Still, this was the real world. Jerek knew he was going to encounter different ideas out here than in the sterility of a classroom, he certainly already had so far. This was just one more. So what the Sith?

Taking the drink in his hand, Jerek tipped its contents into his mouth, instantly wincing against the sour taste of the wine. Then his throat began to burn, and he coughed. Some of the wine splashed back into his mouth, spreading the fire there as well, and it consumed his tongue and the inside of his cheeks. He raised the glass to his lips again, spitting out the contents into its cup, but the majority of the wine had already gone down his throat.

Slowly? Oops!

Jerek's cheeks took on a rosy hue, either from the drink or the embarrassment, as he stammered, "Sorry, Ma—Damian. I guess I know how it feels now, at least." Pretty awful, if he was honest, but he laughed regardless. A nervous laugh, an instinctive defense of the awkward teenager. He reached for the pitcher of water and filled his glass, "I'll go slow this time."

True to his word, Jerek began with small sips. The heavily diluted wine didn't taste so bad now, but the damage seemed to be done. He could feel his head growing lighter, and somehow the sensation of the glass against his lips was more intense each time, as if Jerek could feel every nerve ending. At the same time, that nervous feeling began to fade, and when his glass was empty once more, he eagerly reached for the bottle again.

"I think I'm starting to get the hang of this now," the teen remarked, not quite sure if his words were as clear as he intended them, and had to work hard to suppress a giggle at that thought. Who knew getting poisoned could be so funny?

[member="Damian Starchaser"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Damian didn't laugh, there was nothing to be ashamed of and besides Damian had more important things to worry about, like if his training was working. He had sized up the youth upon his arrival and was doing the basic math of drinking in his head as the night went on. He of course didn't expect the boy to get it entirely right on the first try, but also had no intent of actually giving him alcohol poisoning. So he monitored him, checking for visual cues. In the eyes he was looking for a watery or glassy effect, or at the worse end of the spectrum bloodshot. Droopy eyelids or a blank stare would also be a worrying sign, but not alone. A little intoxication was to be expected. What would be worrying is if his speech became overfly slurred, or he himself became slow to respond to Damian as the night went on. That would require Damian to step in and help the process along.

Of course using this method instead of a hard blood alcohol test also meant that Damian had to talk to him, measuring responses and gauging the behavioral effects. Oh boy would it be fun when he lost volume control. "So..." he said after another drink. What would he say? How was it being a Jedi? That didn't work, and the rest of his repertoire seemed rather... pointless. This wasn't an asset... this was a fellow Jedi. There was supposed to be a distinction. "How do you like being a Jedi." Stupid.

Damian looked back before pouring another drink and downing it in a gulp. Quickly he recovered, "So the key is to negate the effects of alcohol as much as possible. One of the main ways it effects you is through dehydration." Damian motioned to the pitcher on the table, "So making sure you drink a lot of water can help. And before you go to sleep make sure to drink a glass or two. the force is great but giving yourself every advantage is also important." Taking a deep breath he added, "another trick could be not finishing your drink before asking for another. When they come to bring you the new one they will take the old one away. Most people won't notice a small detail like that and it lets you appear to be drinking more than you are. If people think you're drunk they will underestimate you. Also if you find yourself playing the roll of a drunk spilling a little here and there could also be in character and further help reduce the actual alcohol content you put in your system. Just don't be sloppy and overtly obvious about it."

Okay... bond with this person. Treat him like a colleague. Damian went through various further statements in his head thinking over the pros and cons of each. He had to keep talking... "Okay so so I'm going to get a toxin scanner to see how you're doing." Or not.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"]

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Jerek opened his mouth to respond, but the question seemed to hang in the air alone, seemingly puzzling both of them as Damian downed another drink. How did he like being a Jedi? Was it just the alcohol that was making that seem like a stupid question? He wasn't sure if he should even have an opinion on being a Jedi. He simply was one. Unattached to a particular order at the moment, yes, and not apprenticed to a particular master at the moment, yes. But that didn't really change whether he followed the Jedi Code or who he called a brother or sister.

The dangling particulars about his Jedi nature were items of constant stress for him, so instead of trying to think of them, Jerek instead busied himself by pouring another glass. The wine didn't taste so bad this time, he could actually pick out some of the fruitier notes now as he sipped it slowly. The water diluted the taste down to just a hint, but with the alcohol hiding behind the fruity sweetness, the teen wasn't exactly keen on drinking it straight yet.

At least it was getting easier with every sip, evidenced by how much bigger his sips were getting.

He nodded at [member="Damian Starchaser"]'s instructions, pouring himself a glass of water on the next round. Even lukewarm by now, the water felt pleasant, as if all at once Jerek realized how warm he felt. It wasn't uncomfortable, merely noticeable to him, as it would likely be to Damian if he saw Jerek's cheeks growing more rosy. But Jerek didn't stop to give the rise in temperature much thought as he normally would, his mind merely filed it away and moved on, focusing back on the sensation of the cool water he was drinking, or reaching for a refill again when he was done with that.

When the man interrupted him to suggest a toxin scan, Jerek looked up, a bit sheepish now. Oh, right, this had all been for the purposes of learning how not to get poisoned. Even unfamiliar with the effects of alcohol personally, he had seen how it affected others, and knew he certainly felt different. Was this what it was like to be drunk?

He didn't really feel that different, but a part of him felt that, for sure, he was already too far deep into his cups. He stared nervously as the man ran the scanner over him, wondering once more if this whole situation was a trick, a ploy to get him in trouble somehow. Was this a test by the Jedi Order? Was he going to fail and get kicked out?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drink so much," he started, almost in a pleading tone. Even the nervous laugh had abandoned him, he no longer felt awkward, just guilty now. His emotions ran unchecked, easily detectable by another strong Force user like Damian, cycling from remorse to anxiety to fear. Even if Damian wasn't a Jedi Master, Jerek was still sure he could make real trouble for the padawan. Jerek had never been in real trouble before, and in his mind the consequences stretched out far in front of him. He stumbled out an appeal, "Please, Mas—I mean, please, Damian, I didn't know what would happen. I'm sorry I didn't follow the rules. I'll do it better, I promise."

 

[Damian Starchaser]

The scanner came back with results causing Damian to look it over and stare at the yute across from him. the results weren't as promising as he'd hoped, but it was a first attempt. "Don't worry about it. You wouldn't be the first Jedi to drink a bit too much, and you won't be the last I'm sure." A reassuring smile, one that he'd used on many marks in the past, formed on his face. "But we need to do a little better, so I want you to close your eyes and concentrate." Damian took a deep breath as the young man closed his eyes. He wasn't particularly good at this, at least not when it came to external ability. Still he had to try, this is why he was sent here... kind of.

Extending two fingers Damian poked [member="Jerek Zenduu"] on the forehead between his eyes. Damian's master was able to perform amazing feats of healing and had prowess in many applications of the force to help others. Damian could stop himself from getting drunk. Worse Jedi ever. He focused on the poison and the influence it held over the boy negating it as best he could and helping the body in it's natural process. "It isn't about degrees of success. Especially in this instance any little bit will help. So concentrate on what I did, and feel what I'm doing to emulate it."

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

The man's words were reassuring, and he willingly closed his eyes when asked. He felt the man touching his forehead, and then a pressure throughout him. As it continued, the boy realized it was more like a sharp tingling, as if all his nerves were being pricked by tiny, sharp points. It didn't hurt exactly, but it didn't feel pleasant either as the sensation spread through his veins, hunting down the alcohol that coursed through them.

"I don't even know how you're doing that, it'll be easier if you finish it up," the boy admitted. Jerek understood that the Force could assist the body in healing, and knew the academic descriptions of the process, but he lacked the deeper theory or practice to truly understand what was happening. All he knew was what he felt, the soft warmth he had known before was giving way to a sharper heat, then gradually tapering off as whatever process Damian was using finished its job.

"Thanks," the padawan said after, but he wasn't sure if he should be truly grateful. The process drained the brightness that the alcohol had imparted, and the energy and desire to do something was gone. Left in its place was simple fatigue, compounded by the lateness of the hour and their earlier meal. The boy felt it acutely when he stood, and he said as such.

Turning to the man, he gave a slight bow toward him. "If you'll allow, I'm think I'm going to get some sleep." Picking up the pack he had brought with him, Jerek went to follow through on his claim. It wasn't hard to find one of the empty bedrooms that didn't have any belongings in it. Throwing down his own and stripping off his flightsuit, the boy crawled under the covers, quickly succumbing to the embrace of slumber to rest for whatever the next day would bring.

[member="Damian Starchaser"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Night came and went giving way to morning. There was a fresh snow, and small flakes dropped from the sky. Light from the rising sun reflected off of the falling snow giving tinting the white flakes with red and yellow making it look like sparks from a forge were falling or, in a more grim view, the resort was on fire. Smoldering ash in the fireplace. With the day ahead of him, Damian prepared breakfast and set out, in his head, the itinerary for the day. [member="Jerek Zenduu"] did not fit in, but that was something that could change. Step one, look the part.

After eating a simple meal the pair set off to the resort. In addition to the winter sport the large domed and partially underground facility contained a beach and tropical resort allowing for a wide array of entertainments.Damian for his part wordlessly escorted Jerek through the facility and across the various store fronts. Deliberately he walked across the beach, through a casino, taking in the facility and all the sites. Eventually he stopped and entered a single shop, Chase Fashion. Stores as fronts and safe houses worked well at helping to increase the area of influence the organization had.

"So we're going to do a few things. Since you didn't know what you were in for, you didn't pack for the occasion. I doubt you have a suit, and if you do you don't have one of my suits." Damian continued as they walked through the store to a nearby booth. "Go inside," he said pointing to the booth, "There is a laser scanner and holographic imaging device along with a full catalog of products. You go in, it scans you, you pick the fashion of your desire. You order it and the auto tailor can bespoke most orders. Right now you're going to go in there and find some clothes that help you fit in. You're allowed to be yourself and have your own style, but remember you need to be seen as someone who belongs in this place. You saw the beach, the casino, the stores, and the people in them. Time to see how well you observed. When you're done we're going to get you a suit."

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

When the morning events passed without much notice, Jerek began to suspect that the night before had only been a dream, the sequence of events and their content were a little fuzzy in his mind. Damian —who still didn’t like being referred to as master, a potential clue to the veracity of the boy’s memories— made little mention of the previous evening other than passing comments, and breakfast was devoid of the upscale accompaniments the man had dined on before. The bizarre transformation fueled Jerek’s desire to know the truth, but he hesitated to ask, worried that the answer might not be what he was looking for.

The man’s nonchalant behavior lulled Jerek into a false sense of security, and he spent the trek across the dome absorbing the sights in boyish wonder. While outside, a snowstorm raged atop the mountain, inside was a tropical haven with heat that made Jerek swelter inside his long-sleeves and full-length pants. People had flocked to the dome in colorful clothes, some in more conventional short-sleeved wear, some in loose dresses or wraps, and quite a few in what appeared to be the general uniform of the dome: a swimsuit. The humid, warm air and attire within the dome made the teen think back to the hot tub inside Damian’s cabin until he saw the pool.

Jerek was no stranger to pools or the water, there had been ample time in his childhood for him to visit them. Yet he still stood slackjawed before the massive expanse of indoor water. He had severely underestimated the size of the dome now, as the pool stretched for hundreds of meters, large enough to feel more like a small lake than a pool. Indeed, the edge of the pool was more like a shoreline, even packed with sand like a proper beach. The noise from the pool reflected the activities of its swimmers, the high-pitched screams and shrieks of children was punctuated with the calls and shouts of more mature voices, firmly asserting that the pool was not just fun for kids.

As the pair turned away from the beach and into the more-decidedly adult venues, the teen looked back once with a sharp sense of longing.

He forced himself onward instead, cognizant of the mission that he had been sent here for. Whatever that mission was, exactly. Damian still hadn’t said anything about it, nor had he mentioned the events of the night before. Jerek loathed the mysterious nature of it all, he disliked having information kept from him. Better to have it all out in the open to weigh and analyze it properly than to dole it out slowly. That was how mistakes got made unnecessarily and people got avoidably hurt. Still, Damian was the master here —or a knight at least?— so Jerek was expected to follow his rules and process. It just didn’t mean he had to be happy about it. This was no more on display than when Damian announced his next task for Jerek.

Clothes shopping? Ugh.

Jerek inclined his head calmly, though he could barely hide his bitter glance at the man’s remarks about having observed. It was then that the boy realized that it was not his mind that had been fooling him, only Damian. Whatever their objective was, it was clear that the lesson of the night before and the one today were connected and structured for some singular purpose. And he hadn’t even known he was being tested.

”What do I need a suit for?” the padawan asked, hoping to glimpse more of the big picture from Damian’s reluctant lips. A wry smile curled the corners of his own lips as Jerek suggested, ”Unless you mean a swimsuit. I’m sure there’s something fishy in that pool that needs investigating by the Jedi.”

[member="Damian Starchaser"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

The boy's attitude was about what Damian expected, marveling at the indoor resort locations and turning sour when moving on to the duty free shopping. Damian had to suppress a smirk that rose on his lips at the mention of swimsuits and investigating the beach. Of course there was another aspect of that statement that couldn't stand so Damian playfully threw out an arm and gave the boy a clout to the ear. "No Jedi," he said plainly working his way into the shop proper.

Armed with a smile Damian walked up to the counter and looked over the woman behind it. he exchanged quick pleasantries and harmless flirting before looking back at Jerek and handing the comely woman a datapad asking for the executive fitting room. a few glances and polite smiles were exchanged before she escorted the pair into the back room where and auto tailor and complete laser scanning equipment was held. Damian walked into the booth escorting Jerek in front of him. "Damian Chase, authorization for back room access granted. Transport times two."

The laser scanner shot out getting detailed scanned of the both of the men in the booth taking special care to gain The floor began to move and shift as the booth's occupied sign emerged and the two traveled down the elevator, slow and silently until reaching the basement level. Hidden within the store rooms, looms, and clothing samples was something else entirely. A safe room. "We had an incident two years ago with pirates on another world like this. This has allowed us to place in facilities like these, safe rooms, into the contracts and budgets, for the security of our employees, without arousing much suspicious. Damian Chase cares about his employees." He looked around the area and noted the booth set up for Jerek's fitting and the various gadgets about. Damian inspected one of the newest umbrella's he'd commissioned and checked it's function. It was a shame the tool be too conspicuous on this planet. "Up there," Damian pointed, "there is no Jedi. Down here? We can speak free and plain."

Walking to a mannequin wearing a tailored suit Damian smiled. "There is going to be a ball at the end of the week. You will be expected to attend as part of your cover identity. In addition there will be a task I want you to perform. I will tell you what the task is when I have confirmed you are ready for it. I have a week to get you there."

Damian considered for a moment and paused letting that sink in. "You are going to choose an entire wardrobe, fitting of your cover identity of a rich kid. You are going to be fitted here for a proper suit." Damian looked over at the suit prepared for himself. "Water and stain resistant and made of soft materials easy on the skin. Thermal regulated to keep you warm in the cold and cool in the warmth. Also blaster resistant and bulletproof capable of stopping kinetic weapons with an ease." Walking over to the table next to it Damian looked over and selected a chronometer off the table before walking back to the boy and practical slapping it on his wrist. "Wrist chrono. containing fully encrypted communications, navigational assist and holographic display. in addition there is an anti security blade, cutting laser and dart thrower built in."

Good, done handing out the toys Damian walked to the far end of the room and sat down in a nearby chair examining a datapad. "The full catalog is available to you, please select a proper wardrobe so I can get a massage the beach."

[member="Jerek Zenduu"]

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Jerek was still rubbing his ear —he assumed this meant there would be no pool investigation?— when he entered the secret room behind the fashion store...wait, secret room? Why was there a secret room behind the fashion store?

As Damian started to speak, as he now freely permitted himself, Jerek finally had one answer for why there was a secret room behind the fashion store. That still left about a dozen and one other questions, not the least of which was still: what was going on here?

Either Damian Starchaser, or Finn, or whatever the kark was his name, was a super sleuth Jedi spy...

Or he was karking mad.

For all he knew, it was actually both.

Jerek stared at Damian as the man finally offered an explanation for all the madness and deception, finding it hard to take it all seriously now. A ball, a cover identity, a task to perform, and all in a week's time? The only thing Damian could have possibly left out of his briefing was the only important part of it all: why?

And now Jerek was supposed to play the part of a rich kid? Talk about being miscast for a role. His childhood in the Jedi Temple and the many teachings of the Jedi on modesty, reservation, selflessness, and working to better the galaxy were not exactly the sort of attributes one expected of a rich, spoiled kid at the center of his own universe. The evidence of Damian Starchaser's madness was growing by the minute.

On the bright side, at least he was about to get some suave new threads out of the ordeal.

All at once, the padawan was in his own head, chastizing himself as his masters would have for focusing on the material items. New clothes and new tools, to dress up and play in, these were not the things a Jedi craved. But still, the realization quickly dawned on him, they were the things a rich kid would crave. As unnatural as it felt to him, Jerek needed to channel that feeling and push the voices of his teaching masters to the wayside.

As he let himself feel more comfortable with the idea, the teen began to get actually excited by the prospect. He stepped up into the booth, idly fingering the new wrist chrono that Damian had put on him. The device activated, instructing Jerek to drop his hands to the side and remain still as it scanned him. Then it threw up a holographic screen that wrapped around him, and after a brief explanation of its functions, began to display the various options in the Chase Fashion catalogue, with the boy's own body —a slightly unnerving thing to witness— used as the base model.

Jerek's choices were conservative, opting for outfits that emulated the style he saw of the dome's occupants, though in more muted and traditional tones. Blues, whites, greys, sticking to solid colors and simple patterns, nothing too garish. As he got deeper into the groove, he branched out beyond the poolside attire of the dome, adding in long pants and sweaters more appropriate for the ski chalet that Damian had rented. With growing enthusiasm, the boy grew bolder, throwing in a couple designs outside his comfort zone as well.

As he stepped off the booth's pad, spun the hologram so that the choices were displayed in a virtual invoice, waiting for more entries or the final confirmation of purchase.

[member="Damian Starchaser"]​

 

[Damian Starchaser]

While the boy selected his various articles of clothing Damian looked over the datapad he had. The information displayed was rather lackluster and he had expected more. Still you worked with what you had. Seeing the Padawan finishing his selection Damian walked over to [member="Jerek Zenduu"] and looked at the selection of clothes glancing through the invoice before swiping a cred chit across the screen. There was a strange irony to buying clothing from your own store. "The Autotailor will go to work and a droid will the drop the things off by our chalet," Damian said reaching over to the table and throwing a towel at the youth. "But first. We have to investigate the pool."

...

... Really?

...

This was how Damian liked to train. It had been some time before the two were changed and down at the beach looking at the artificial surf. There was a small gaggle of girls eyeing the pair though they were a bit young for Damian. For his part he found his target, a twi'lek woman with red skin lazing on a lounger in the sand, the sun beating through transparent panels in the wall warming the sands to a temperature of a more tropical planet. After settling in and letting Jerek have fun for a short time Damian called him over. "Alright, this won't all be fun, I have training planned for you." he looked around the place and pointed his nose to the girls laying on the beach not far from the pair. The girls who he had seen give them the eye. "Your first assignment is to elicit three pieces of personal information from one of those girls. and remember your cover story." That's right. Step two of training, go talk to some girls.

Without letting Jerek speak up Damian smiled and patted him on the head, "Good luck," he said before walking off.

For his part he walked over to the twi'lek woman and sat down on a chair next to her. She turned to give him an incredulous look, practically spilling from her tiny bikini. "Well that's a nice little nothing you're almost wearing." Damian didn't stare and instead reclined his feet up on the lounger. "I've been told you need a banker.... Allow me to introduce myself, Damian Chase of Chase Financing."

As he began his conversation he turned part of his attention to Jerek.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

The pool? Really?

Jerek was giddy the whole way to the water's edge, he didn't consider the ramifications of it until they got there. He should have known by now that [member="Damian Starchaser"] had some ulterior motive for what he was doing. Some kind of secret. This past day had been one big secret, even as the padawan learned the plan for the week ahead Jerek still didn't trust that he was informed. It frustrated the boy to no end, but he wore a stunned expression on his face when the man told him what to do.

Go talk to some girls?

He eyed the group of girls, who were glancing his way and then turning to whisper and giggle among themselves. Those girls? How Damian expected him to break through the Feminine Wall was beyond him, the boy was not exactly a charmer himself. Most girls saw him as too nerdy —though Jerek strongly preferred the term geek— to be an item of interest. Jerek turned to look at Damian, barely verbalizing, "Wha—?" before he felt the man messing up his hair.

By the time he had fixed the shaggy blond mop on his head, Damian had already walked away, and Jerek was left to mutter just to himself, "That's not fair!"

Even wearing a swimsuit, t-shirt and sandals, Jerek felt suddenly naked as he tried to observe the girls without being too obvious. Their glances were growing a little more wary though, and he worried about losing his opening to talk. Begrudging legs moved him forward, and Jerek trudged through the sand of the fake beach towards the clump of girls.

There were three of them, which didn't seem like such a big number on the face of it. Jerek was used to interacting with girls he had grown up with, like Win-Trix. He had no shared history with these girls, and being a Jedi would only put him out further. Except, the boy wasn't supposed to be a Jedi right now. He was supposed to be Jerek Finn, on vacation while his brother did his banking business or something like that. Damian had discussed their cover story, but now Jerek was struggling to recall.

He took a breath, and on instinct, drew in the Force as well. The padawan may have to pretend he wasn't a Jedi here, but that didn't change his reality. The Force was a bountiful source of fortitude, and right now Jerek was going to need all the fortitude he could muster.

Rich. Jerek was supposed to be posing as a rich kid here. The only frame of reference he had for this were passing encounters with adult diplomats or nobility, whose wealth was more often carried with grace than arrogance, and holoflix shows that too often portrayed rich youths as bumbling villains whose overconfidence made them weak or modest heroes who were able to overcome their spoiled upbringings to uncover new revelations. On the face of it, these examples didn't exactly provide much of use here, in order to beguile a teenage girl Jerek would need something more appealing than a fictional character. Still, those gave him a place to start.

Three traits stood out to him: wealth and confidence, with a touch of spoiled arrogance. For two of these, at least, he had some real world role models from his own childhood. Jerek had always admired his friend Dash's confidence, and despite himself he had to admit that his old rival Vul's arrogance was endearing in this moment. In order to really sell this, though, Jerek had to step outside of himself. He could not be Jerek Zenduu right now.

He had to be Jerek Finn.

The boy looked over the girls again. There was a Miralan who looked a little younger than him, a slender, demure figure with dark hair that framed her face. Another one, a Cathar girl who was taller with her silver-white hair pulled back, seemed to be the leader of the group, or at least the one the others looked up to. The last was Human, with beautiful red hair and a curvy body, and easily drew Jerek's eyes. The Force had different ideas, however, drawing him to the dark-haired girl.

Confidence.

The boy strode toward the group with a sense of purpose, as he might toward an opponent in a dueling circle. His back stood tall but relaxed, his head seated high on his neck, his eyes sweeping over the group, lingering perhaps a little too long on the redhead, before settling on the Miralan girl. He leaned toward her, bringing his lips into a smile unlike his broader, more genuine item. It was upturned more at one corner, the expression traveling up to his eye on that side, and he gave it a wink.

Wealth.

The boy adjusted the chrono on his wrist. Not the idle fidgeting of before, but a twist to get it centered just right. His mind went to the glitzy spaceships he had seen before in spaceports around the galaxy, and their opulent passengers, trying to imitate their style. The way they glided across the floor like it was water. It wasn't easy to do in sand and he felt ridiculous walking this way, but he hoped that his trudging feet would be seen as more graceful.

Arrogance.

The boy's path intersected the construction of a young child's sand castle, and as he steered around to avoid it, another little kid ran out in front of his legs unaware. The unavoidable collision knocked the child down, and caused him to look down at the new obstacle. He had to resist every fiber in his being that told him to stop and get down to the child's level, to apologize for his actions and offer help. No, instead, he carried on, a brief forlorn look at the child melting away as he tried to resume his previous swagger.

Jerek Finn approached the girls, who were once again giggling and whispering among themselves. Making a beeline for the green-skinned one, he felt the eyes of the the feline girl widen and caught a glimpse of her pupils narrowing, the hair on the back of his neck grew stiff at the sharp change in the atmosphere. The third girl seemed to just look on, with his back to her the boy couldn't tell what her expression was. So he concerned himself simply with the girl in front of her.

Trying to make a move he had never tried look natural was a Herculean feat, one that should probably be submitted as one of his Knight Trials if he pulled it off. But it was not Jerek Zenduu making this move, it was Jerek Finn. And Jerek Finn had done this a thousand times before.

Bringing his hand straight up, he let it fall on the Miralan girl's shoulder, giving her a short stare before uttering a deep, "Hey."

 

[Damian Starchaser]

Damian had to suppress a smile as he saw young [member="Jerek Zenduu"] aproach the gaggle of giggling girls. He had taken the first and, arguably, hardest step. Damian would have observed more but he had other things to do. Looking over at the Twi'lek he let a smile cross his face. "You need to move money without various factional governments calling foul. New operations in various jurisdictions require certain precautions."

"Money laundering," she replied. She arced her body as she turned in her lounger getting comfortable and staring at Damian in the eyes.

"It's good to know we're both speaking basic." Meeting her eyes Damian finally allowed himself to smile the charming little half cocked smirk that had earned him admiration in the past. It was a well practiced maneuver embedded into his very DNA by the lazy Kaminoan programmer who constructed him. It was an affectation from some other project sliced into his genes and education that he was grateful for.

Waving a hand the woman leaned in and picked up a glass from a nearby table, the waiter dutifully moving over to pour a fruity beverage from a pitcher filled with ice. "And you heard of us how?"

"Karios," without hesitation Damian mentioned the name of his contact and produced a letter of introduction written in cipher. The only downside to his plan was that the man had met an untimely end at the hands of a rival cartel afterwards. It was really a shame how they believed he was going to betray them by draining all of the accounts and fleeing to the rim where he'd live in a palace like a Hutt. "What we do is invest in real-estate across the galaxy. Set up a company and flip properties. I can give a ten percent return on investments, and the money shows squeaky clean."

"And how much do you take?"

"Does it matter? It's profit to you." Taking a drink from a waiter he smiled and then continued on that train of thought. "So you give me say two million credits? And I'll put your money to work."

Quirking an eyebrow the woman looked up, "Two million?"

The questioning tone revealed hesitation. "Oh yeah, no I get it. Your crew knocks over the local fueling station and suddenly they think they are big leagues. Well I'm a six figure kind of guy."

Staring back at him the woman looked him over once or twice. "I have the money," she said with confidence. "But I'm confident in our current banking situation., however your offer is intriguing. I'll consider it." The two stared at each other for a moment or two before the twi'lek woman said "Leave now," she waved him off with a hand.

Standing Damian almost instinctively reached for the non existent tie on his chest before realizing he was in a swimsuit. Leaving the area and the woman to her thoughts he went to the bar. From a holder of napkins he watched as she ordered one of her goons and the wheels began moving. They were now finding out all about him, probing in to his cover ID. He continued to watch as the bartender approached and Damian ordered, for himself and his charge.

------------​

​

The waiter approached the youth's with a fold out tray in hand. Upon reaching the group he looked over at [member="Jerek Zenduu"] andsaid, "Your order has arrived." Snacks, drinks, and a single candle, pheromone infused to create a relaxing atmosphere, were placed on a fold out table tray. A little help from Damian, or a joke. Either way the man was watching via the reflective surface of a napkin holder. The waiter lit the candle and marched away, but not before glad handing a note to Jerek.

From Damian the note read simply; Good Luck.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Giggles and blushes. Those were the responses to his awkward greeting.

Jerek had to admit, the girl was cute. His mind had zeroed in on the redheaded Human girl next to her, but the Force had guided him to this one. He had been raised to trust it, and with little else making sense today, the boy figured there wasn't much else he could do. Green skin, as many Mirialans were, with eyes that hid behind eyelids and long lashes. Her cheeks were anointed with a pair of tattoos, depicting three trapezoids stacked one on two. A mouth sat small under a long nose, descending to her soft chin. She wore some kind of sheer cloth over her halter-bikini top, the bottom presumably underneath the tight-fitting shorts she wore on her bottom.

It took all of Jerek's power to not run away. He wasn't shy, but he could tell she was. Her friends, to his relief, seemed too shocked by his forwardness to say anything, but he could already feel the color creeping up into his cheeks. Play it cool. The rich kid of Jerek Finn wouldn't run, and nor would he. Not if he wanted to finish this mission. If he screwed up now, there was no telling how that would affect Damian's mission. So don't screw up.

That was easier thought than done.

The boy brought his hand up from her shoulder, brushing back the dark locks that shielded the side of her face, and tucked them behind her ear. A few fell back, but the effect was transformative, opening up her face to his. Jerek almost couldn't believe he had done that, and the awkward teen didn't have a better follow through than to put his hand back on her shoulder. "I'm Jerek...Jerek Finn. What's your name?"

"Trina," she said, her blue eyes watching him from beneath their lashes. Then she modeled him, saying, "Trinna Svungg."

That was one. Jerek hoped that her name counted as a piece of information he could use. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. "And—"

He never got to finish asking her friends' names, for they were interrupted by a dull sound and a voice saying,"Your order has arrived."

"Huh?" Jerek asked, whipping his head around to see one of the beachside waiters setting down a tray of refreshments. And a candle?! "Bu—" Before he could protest, a note was held out to him. The teen glanced at its sender, and then he instantly understood. Damian. He opened it and almost laughed out loud at the note's contents. "Thanks," he said aloud, a little more drily than he had expected. He opened his mouth to apologize and correct it, before he realized how out of character that would be for the rich kid persona he was wearing.

The rich kid persona felt to Jerek like wearing garbage, he would much rather be naked in front of these girls right now than be wearing it.

"Well, that was unexpected," Jerek chuckled, trying to play off his awkwardness a little bit. He wasn't as suave as he wanted to be now. "The timing, I mean. Pff, I knew this was coming." He felt three pairs of eyes peering at him skeptically, and for a moment Jerek was afraid he was about to lose them all. "So? Dig in."

To his delight, they did just that. For a few minutes, they were enjoying the snacks and soft drinks —though it was Photon Fizz instead of the Fizzyglug he preferred— and talking about nothing in particular. The candle was odd, but it didn't really seem to make the whole thing as weird as Jerek had expected it would. Eventually, the teen found himself less stressed out about the whole ordeal, and growing a bit more in confidence. He was gearing up to ask Trinna another question, when he felt a tug on his board shorts.

"Hey!" Jerek turned to look, and saw the little kid from earlier, the one he had knocked down on his way over to the girls. He felt their stares on him once more, and the weight of the exercise fell upon his shoulders once more. "You wrecked my sand castle."

He followed the little boy's hand back to the remains of a sand castle, and spied the sandy imprint on the youngling's swimsuit. It wasn't hard to put two and two together. But Jerek Finn wasn't supposed to care, he was too well-off to care. He probably had people to care for him. "No, I didn't. Switch off!"

The other two girls seemed happy to let the incident slide, but Trinna's eyes seemed to follow the bereft child back to his wasted castle. The spook-in-training tried to shut it out, this was all part of the game, but he couldn't stop watching Trinna, knowing why she was distracted. In her saddened state, the hair fell back over her face, and she seemed to grow even more pretty. Jerek moved closer to her, "So, there's this problem I have..."

"What?" Trinna's words felt terse. It wasn't a snap, but Jerek could see she was bothered. But the words were halfway out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"It's my eyes. I just can't take them off of you."

The green-skinned girl just scoffed. "That's probably why you pushed that little kid into his castle."

"I'm sorry." Jerek said wistfully. It was a reflex, he truly was sorry and longed to tell her so. He longed to dispense with this masquerade and just be honest with her. Rich kid Jerek Finn wouldn't be sorry, Jerek Finn would have laughed it off, maybe tried one of the other girls instead.

"If you were really sorry," Trinna met his eyes for the first time, their icy blue intense as they accosted him alongside her words. "You'd go over there and help him."

The boy went stiff as if he'd been slapped. The very thing he had tried not to be in order to approach this girl, was the very thing he needed to be. The Jedi in him leapt for joy, but Jerek stayed grounded. Tried to stay in character. "Alright, but only if you come with me."

Where that line had come from, he wasn't sure, but the demure girl's eyes batted their lashes once, twice, and then shrugged. A word sounded, and in that moment it was the most amazing word in the galaxy. "Okay."