Still Alone Together

[Sebastian Thel]

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The gears of the little droid squeaked as he rolled along beside Sebastian. Beneath a huge landing pad which was well under construction, the engineer walked along the earthy underpass in Terminus' industrial sector to take his new creation for a test run. While the miniature droid was only a testing model for a much larger prototype, he was excited all the same to see his project in action.

In his hands, Bas held a remote control, which he used to maneuver the droid. The final model would be installed with an artificial intelligence, like most droids, until then Bas still had to refine the programming. Today he was just testing the mechanics. Moving around a gear, he directed the droid towards the base of a stronghold which marked the dead-end of the underpass.

"That wheel is making a lot of noise, better oil it up." Although the droid could not process vocal commands, Bas talked away to himself while bringing the wheels to a halt. He was still alone, even with the machine beside him.

"Hold still." Tucking the remote control into a large satchel which was slung around his shoulder, Bas leaned down to inspect the squeaking wheel. He lifted a small oil can out of the satchel, and moved the end around the gears of both the droid's wheels, releasing oil around the spline in the process. He set the oil can down and picked up the remote control again, only to jolt at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Making nothing of the noise, Bas continued to control the droid and maneuvered the head downward, then made it pick up a thin piece of steel. He smiled with glee at the sight, only becoming more distracted to the figures approaching from beneath the underpass. A large hand clamped on his shoulder, causing him to jolt in fright. He gripped the remote control even harder as he turned around.

"Well, well, look what we have here." A man wearing a breastplate painted with the Mandalorian emblem spoke to Sebastian. Several of his comrades stood behind him, although they appeared to be common thugs as opposed to mercenaries, former Mandalorians perhaps.

"This is gang territory and you're trespassing." The man said as he pointed his assualt rifle at Bas' chest. That the area belonged to anybody other than the Coalition, Bas had not been aware. The man walked around the side of Bas and to the horror of the engineer, leaned a foot against the side of his droid.

"Please don't touch it!" Holding the control up to his face, Bas looked at the man with deep, begging eyes. His voice was small and fruitless against their compulsive need to torment those who were more vulnerable than themselves.

[member="Geel Zlta"]

 

[Geel Zlta]

Geel was restless. In fact, he was more than simply bored, he was in the sort of mood where anything might tip him over the edge. It had been one of those days. One where anything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

Not precisely anything...that was an obvious exaggeration - but it had proven to be a torrid time since he'd woken up. He'd been sleeping in a cheap hostel - the sort where you went to sleep with one eye open. Given he wore everything he owned, he did not face the prospect of robbery - or at least he didn't think so.

But cheap hostels equal down and outs - and Geel could never walk away from a sob story. So the few credits he had left were gone within an hour of waking up. So he'd endured a day without food - on an already empty stomach.

And in this mood, he was looking for some real wrongs to right - the chance to vent some of his frustration. This sort of place was bound to have them - extortion rackets, petty theft, pimping - the possibilities were endless. Yet he'd found no misdemeanours - and he didn't even have sufficient credits for a place to sleep that night.

He was meandering along when he saw them - Mandalorians. Geel couldn't go as far to say he hated them - but he definitely didn't trust them. Their track history with Jedi was not good, and even though he did not count himself one of them - he saw enemies of the Jedi as likely adversaries too.

So he slowly and quietly closed the gap between them and him. They seemed to be giving some guy a hard time. Correction, some guy and his droid.

"'Don't touch' seems an easy thing to understand," he said - his voice soft but carrying authority. "Even for a Mando. And he did say please!"

[member="Bas Thel"]

 

[Sebastian Thel]

Moving his feet sideways, Bas blocked the front of his droid a protective stance. Just as he exchanged a glance with the leader of the gang of former Mandalorians (at least he thought they were former Mandos), a man approached from beneath the underpass. He held an aura of calm authority, along with soft features, although that did not make Bas trust him entirely. Being small and odd on the fringes of the galaxy had taught him not to trust people until they proved that they could be trusted.

"Piss off!" The man wearing the breastplate shouted. The others cocked their rifles and followed his gesture. "This our turf, poindexter here's trespassing on gang territory." He continued and pointed a large finger to Bas, who turned his to one side and avoided the man's gaze.

"Go away." The engineer ordered while he looked at the side of the underpass.

The Mando and his thugs laughed. In an instant, Bas felt the impact of a hand shoving his upper arm aside. One of the gang members grabbed the remote control and struck him over the side of the head. "You son of a queen." Grabbing his hair, Bas muttered in pain, too afraid to state what he was thinking. He looked at the ground to see the control smashed beneath the armored boots of one of the men. The leader then planted his foot above the delicate robot.

"No!" Sebastian cried as he stood at his full height. The man smashed his droid beneath his heavy foot, crushing every compartment and gear into a mess of circuits. His work which he had perfected over weeks was destroyed. Fuming in rage and frustration, he only clenched his fists and looked down at the man with a stare of bewilderment.

"Now to deal with you." The leader of the gang threatened as he turned his aggression to the bystander.

He threw his rifle downwards in clubbing motion in attempt to knock the other men clean over the head. One of the gang members slashed a vibrosword right across the man's upper arm. Should he be knocked down from the barrel of the rifle, he would surely be struck with the blade. Another grabbed Bas by the collar of his shirt. The engineer spat ferociously in his face, before the hot end of a blaster was pointed to his cheek.

[member="Geel Zlta"]

 

[Geel Zlta]

To the casual bystander, Geel was unarmed. In truth, even to a vigilant observer, the young Force-sensitive was carrying no weapons, and wore no armour.

Which ought to have sounded at least a small warning bell in the gang’s collective psyche. He either had a death-wish or he was as good as his threat. Neither should have presented a positive starting position for the gang.

Geel may have turned his back on the Jedi Order – or more accurately certain aspects of its Code – which amounted to the same thing. But, to paraphrase a well-known saying – you can take the boy out of the Jedi, but you can’t take the Jedi out of the boy.

His training was ingrained – if incomplete. And his early years doctrine was thorough – a Jedi does not carry weapons. A Jedi ‘is’ the weapon.

The thugs ignored Geel – and the unfortunate droid owner too. Correction…former droid owner, as the small robot suffered the fate they no doubt wished on Geel right now. But the former Padawan would not be so passive when facing the full force of the gang.

“I would like to make it known I did ask you nicely,” he said, his voice slow and deliberate. Which was in total contrast to his impending actions.

Calling on the Force, Geel moved with phenomenal speed. He side-stepped the rifle butt with such ease, it made the attacker look like some slow-motion fool on a children’s holo-cartoon.

Which meant he was ready for the vibrosword attack – in fact, it looked as though he was expecting it. His right hand shot out and he punched the sword wielder in a nerve cluster that would ensure he dropped the blade.

“Last chance,” Geel said, ready to strike more forcefully if they chose to ignore his warning.

He’d gained their attention, which meant the poor soul that used to own a droid only had one gang member to deal with. Except even his attention was now wavering. The blaster slipped away from the young man’s cheek, as the gang member deliberated who now presented the greater threat. Indecision is rarely a positive trait — especially in a fight.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on the scientist’s collar and raised his blaster — now aiming it at the newcomer.

[member="Sebastian Thel"]

 

[Sebastian Thel]

To Sebastian's awe, the newcomer, who appeared completely unarmed, engaged the men with nothing other than his bare hands. The barrel of the rifle came crashing down and the man moved to the side before the weapon could collide with his head. With speed that did not seem possible for a human, at least one who could not use the Force, he slugged the man who attempted to strike him, causing him to drop the vibrosword on the dusty ground.

The blaster at Sebastian's cheek gradually moved away as the gangster was distracted by the actions of the newcomer. Once the weapon was pointed in the opposite direction, Sebastian shoved a hand into his pocket and found his compass. Gripping one leg, he spammed the needle into the gangster's back, a lot harder than he intended. Blood spurted from the small wound and the man roared as he turned around.

"You little bastard!" The gangster shouted as he brought a hand viciously towards Sebastian's cheek. The small engineer could not move fast enough the back of the man's palm collided with his cheek, sending him falling to the ground in the process.

Gripping the dirt in his fingers, Sebastian prepared himself from another blow. He felt no impact and looked upward to see the gangster now focused on the combatant who had just arrived. Shots rang out as the man fired his blaster at the newcomer, with one of his comrades gripping his shoulders from behind to allow the leader an effective shot.

[member="Geel Zlta"]

 

[Geel Zlta]

Jedi were good. Jedi represented a fearsome opponent. But, and this was the important thing to Geel, Jedi were flawed.

He did what he did to protect the weak. And he lived by a code of conduct. But this is where the similarity between himself and the Jedi ended. He would not kill in cold-blood, but he was quite willing and able to take a life if it took him to a better position.

Like now. He’d offered to accept their submission – and now they had to face the consequences of their decision. He was not going to hold back, he was going to preserve the life of the unfortunate droid-owner by whatever means necessary.

So, unlike a Jedi, he thought nothing of using one of the men as a human shield. The one that had initiated the fight with Geel was closest, so he grabbed him and placed him between himself and the one wielding the blaster.

Geel felt the body go limp and as he was dropping the – quite literally – dead weight – he was aware that the one with the numbed hand had grabbed the vibrosword and slashed wildly at the Force sensitive.

Geel felt the blow cut through his forearm to the bone, and the force of the blow shattered his radius. He pushed the pain away as he retaliated, Force pushing the sword wielder against a nearby wall, his head hitting the duracrete with a sickening thud, and a greasy blood trail followed the man’s skull as he slid to the floor.

Geel then turned his attention on the final gang member, his damaged arm flapping in the breeze, and the pain beginning to negate his connection to the Force.

With a grunt of effort, he held out his good hand and willed the blaster to point at the thug’s head. Once in position, he focused further and the trigger depressed, blowing the man’s head clean off.

It was only adrenaline keeping him going now, but as that dissipated, he stared down at his forearm, seeing only a small amount of skin and muscle attaching it to the rest of his limb.

He glanced at the man lying on the floor. “Hey,” he said – his voice now shaky. “You wouldn’t happen to have a band-aid would you?” He smiled before gravity took hold of his body and he slumped, unconscious, to the floor.

[member="Sebastian Thel"]