The Gateway (Slender)

In the back of his mind Bekk knew before they even started up the mountain that Corvala was still quite a ways off, but he still wanted to believe that after bidding all the snow and goats goodbye that they'd run right into the gates. Maybe this was just excitement at finally arriving home and all. The journey had been beyond fun between present company and just learning about the amazing biomes of the planet, but damn would it be nice to be back in the old neighbor again.

That being said, he could've spent more time at the mountain's summit, and not even for the stellar springs. The place was steeped in the force, and he felt stronger just from the brief time he was there. In fact, his power of sensing had improved quite a bit in the days that followed. It took a great deal on concentration, but he could pick up most living organisms within a few yards or so.

It was a small victory, yet one Bekk was more than happen to accept with open arms.

The only thing to dampen his mood was the lack of food in his stomach for the better part of the day. Hungry always had that effect on the zabrak, which was understandable. Lush green foliage was all around, and yet he didn't know what was edible and what would send him in a coma on the first bite. Neither was he willing to take a chance on his health at this point, so starvation was the only reasonable answer.

While Raasha was was up in the canopy, Bekk sat down to see how sure he was that all the lyerec stalks were gone. Sadly, he didn't find any in his barren backpack. He let out a long and anguished groan while he was alone, yet snapped back to the appearance of contentment for his friend's sake as she vacated the tree.

"Ah, good, can't wait to get home." He added with a big smile and a quick thumbs up. "Don't know about you, but I don't know if I want food or a bath first when we get to the city." The zabrak rambled off, while rapping his fingers along the side of his lightsaber.

It seemed odd in hindsight that even though he'd spent the better part of his life living in Corvala he'd never been to the rural outskirts before. Odder still when you considered his herbivorous eating habits. Then again, the food always ended up in the city anyway, so what reason did he really have to come out this way? Getting better prices, maybe.

"Yeah, I can take care of everything from here. The bath and food is an easy one to solve, but we're gonna need some money to handle the rest of our business. I was rather low on cash that night I asked you out for drinks. I don't want to visit a bank, so we need to borrow it, and I know just who to ask. We're going to the C+C main branch." Bekk explained in a matter of fact manner, yet brightening up with a smile at the mention of the old garage.

The farms and pubs ended after a short while, with the landscape shifting to Corvala's gate and stone walls. Mere paces past the archeway and nostalgia began to well up in the zabrak's chest, as he took in the familiar stone work and the bustling crowds. "There's no place like home." He stated, with vague pride in his voice, while beckoning for Raasha to stay close. She may be a great game guide, but Corvala was a jungle she could easily get lost in.

The numerous pedestrians and various vehicles speeding about seemed to give off a sense of frantic chaos to an outsider, but a local saw all this movement as a rather elaborate dance of sorts, and Bekk quickly got the pair in a sidewalk conga line towards the spaceport. Nostalgia sadly had to give way to critical attention, as he actively scanned the crowds for troopers. Here and there he'd spot a few he assumed were on patrol, or more likely trying to decide what was for lunch, and steered them away on the off chance he was wanted by now.

However, in the back of his head Bekk knew that this assumption would only hamper the evening of he was incorrect, so he decided to take a side path to the space port, one that went by a small guard precinct. The faces of the bounties on the side of the building had changed since he was last here, but nonetheless still great in number as they slowly approached. Silently Bekk motioned for Raasha to stay across the street from the precinct, then dashed across over to inspect it. After a quick scan he found three zabrak men among them, but luckily none of them were him.

"Well, doesn't look like I'm a wanted fugitive yet. Don't understand how, but I don't have a poster." Bekk relayed cheerfully, after returning to Raasha's side. With that weight off of his shoulder the zabrak clearly had more of a spring in his step, and the joyous pace eventually lead them to a large circular building only a block or two from the space port's massive dome. The building's entrance was a large set of weathered and rusted blast doors, with C+C Thrusters and Repulsors in large unilluminated letters above it.

"Here we are.~" Bekk chimed, while heading for aged panel on the wall next to the left section of the door.

The ancient panel was just as scuffed and ill maintained as Bekk had last seen it, and that all alone stayed his hand from doing anything but take in it's odd beauty for a few moments. Instead of going for the call button on the intercom like a proper customer, his head went to the bottom of the panel to a simple keypad. Within a few quick presses a little chime sounded and the doors lurched to life, letting an orchestra of machine sounds and the fumes of productivity drift out as they began to part.

As he waited for them to open completely the zabrak held his head up and took a good, long inhale of the air. He nearly gagged on the exhaust fumes and the high amounts of solvents, but it was still brought back pleasant memories. Besides the various makes and models of ships either cubbyholed in a spot along the sizable circumference or spot on the sales floor, dozens of workers buzzed around sporting the same green coveralls Bekk was so fond of.

Sadly, nobody ran up to greet the prodigal mechanic, but he didn't blame them for not doing so. When someone used the intercom to get in there was usually someone always rushing to see to a potential customer;however, nobody care about an employee using their code to get in, considering they were probably just coming back from a lunch break. "Stay close, and keep your eyes open. This place is dangerous if you don't watch out." The zabrak instructed, putting on a serious face so his friend definitely understood the gravity of what he was saying. You couldn't always been sure any of the workers we're looking out for your safety as much as yours.

Bekk took a quick inventory of the ships in the bay they passed on the way towards a the large control tower in the center, guaging which would likely be the best to steal if it really came to that. The square tower had a entrance for each of its' sides, but converged in a lobby for the lift. After entering the tower and calling for the lift the zabrak idly looked around at furniture he didn't remember until the door chimed for them to enter.

The faded text next to the floor buttons told of the contents of each, but Bekk still trailed his finger up from the lockeroom, up to the break room, past the laundry area, and landing on the one for the office. The tunes that played in the bare metal box as it ascended was also something he didn't remember. As the short trip neared its' end the zabrak made a token effort to straight his worn, and frankly pungent, clothes for who he hoped to see in a moment.

"Hello hello~!" He exclaimed cheerfully as the doors parted, only to find the lavish office space empty. It just as unnerving not to find his adoptive parent there as it was to see that she'd been redecorating. Before the place looked like a large organized closet, pieced together with chairs and a desk all taken from multiple craft. Now the place looked for a Nabooian, all shiny metal and rich fabrics, to the point he almost felt like he'd leave a stench if he sat on any of the cushy furniture.

"-Master Bekk? Master Bekk!-" came from seemingly nowhere in the room at first, then became clear once what the zabrak had assumed was a sculpture started to move. "Gnat? What the hell are you doing here!?" He stated in disbelief at the techno service droid approaching the pair, quickly shifting to a wide smile at just seeing his mechanical friend safe and sound. He'd assumed the droid had suffered the same fate of his other possessions.

"Gnat, Raasha. Raasha, Gnat."

Raasha's response to the introduction between her and his droid friend confirmed his suspicion that something like this might happen. Culture shock was one thing, but she looked uncomfortable just being around the small automaton. The lack of droids, many speeders or prefab housing had been red flags for how his friend and her people could react in situations just like this.

"Gnat. G-N-A-T. He is my personal assistant droid. I built him when I was a child." Bekk calmly explained, motioning toward the hovering machine who seemed to be holding his head a little lower than usual. To his master it was obvious he was a taken a back by how things were turning out slightly in the manners category.

"I know you guys didn't have anything like him back at your village, but I'd have thought you'd gotten used to ones in Cover City. Then again, there weren't any like him floating around." The zabrak continued, only starting to veer off topic at the end.

The true question that Bekk wanted, no, needed to know was whether her animosity towards a droid would interfere with there plans in Corvala. Gnat could be the difference between getting a ship or not, so this was definitely an important point of discussion.

The good spirit from seeing his metal friend safe and sound quickly drained from Bekk's face after seeing how Raasha reacted to his crisp explanation. He had a feeling there must be a cultural or personal barrier between her and druids, one that made it very clear that his mutual friends would never get along. And that was downright depressing. The only way things could get worse is if Auntie and Raasha didn't hit it off earlier.

"*cough* Gnat, where is Auntie? I expected her to be somewhere close during business hours." The zabrak asked, with eyes looking at the togruta's back instead of the droid's eyes. <The mistress went to the space port nearly half an hour ago. There is a dispute with a customer, and she wanted to sort it out personally. It's worth mentioning that she is late, going by the time she said she'd return.> Gnat explained, hovering slightly into Bekk's togruta focused vision about midway through.

Knowing his former caretaker Bekk figured the overdue time was a result of the wookie taking extra steps to beat a little common sense into the customer, like never make a wookie upset. "Eh,I'm not gonna wait for her then. We can talk when she gets back from straightening out the issues. In the meantime I'm gonna go back out into the city with my friend. First thing first though, please grab a few credit chits from the safe, please."

With his order made clear the zabrak spun on his heel and went over to Raasha, gingerly laying a hand on her shoulder as he leaned in from behind. "Hey..," he stated flatly, suddenly drawing a blank over what he had wanted to say. "You know we can visit a park or do that shopping like I promised. You know, to get away from all the grease and exhaust fumes in here."

"Don't worry, Gnat will be staying here..."

Bekk couldn't help but continue to be vocally assumed as Raasha's irritation,as well as continue just observing the way she moved, while strolling away. Truth be told, he wasn't ready yet to leave the familiar office space. He'd always liked it, and he felt an overwhelming urge to sit in the wookie sized, leather administrator's chair behind the desk. It was as soft as a baby bantha's butt; plus, for once, it wasn't occupied.

While his friend went for the elevator the zabrak went the opposite direction towards the massive desk and chair. However, his business actually laid with the former than the latter, and he began sorting through one of the drawers after he arrived. Several credit chits where hiding out behind a a few office toys and an assortment of chocolates. With some shopping money secured Bekk jogged across the room towards the lift, slowing only for a quick wave to gnat.

"OK, we creds to enjoy the evening now." The zabrak mentioned to his friend as the lift began its descent. Back on the shop floor he led them to the side of the dome opposite the door. Instead of customer's vehicles in various states of repair sat a row of green speeders, with noticeable dings here and there.

"Nobody is gonna miss one of the company speeders." Bekk stated in a single song tone, as he hoped into the driver's seat and set about flipping on the repulsors and outboard engines. "Where to start...you hungry?"

“Really, Benjamin…”

The older woman’s voice had a quiet, peaceful nature to it, as the pair walked through the knee-high turu-grass in the middle of the day. The Togruta seemed to glide, not leaving footprints or even words for that matter in her wake, as the red and white grass split around her like a current around a stone. The man at her side was noticeably less graceful. He simply trudged along, arms crossed in front of his chest, stepping on a twig here or there with a crack or a snap. His brow furrowed as he studied the ground and walked with the Togruta - Whether or not that was his face’s natural resting position, it was hard to tell.

“... I still appreciate your concern, after all these years. But you don’t need to come running back to Shili every time you get a bad feeling, or have a nightmare.”

Ben couldn’t help himself. Not since the Jedi Order fell nearly sixteen years ago. Now, the man had nearly given up on the whole Jedi thing - The philosophy, the teachings, the codes and all the rules. It had all gone out the door pretty much the moment that the Galactic Empire had become a thing. But one thing remained from his Jedi days - one singular, important thing. And that was the Togruta walking besides him; his old master Ashla Rin.

“Don’t forget who taught you how to hold a lightsaber in the first place without getting your fingers sliced off.”

Rin partially teased. Partially, because it was true. And Ben could always tell when she wasn’t being serious, by the slight changes in her tone. None the less, he still worried. The aging Togruta had practically raised him. They’d been through the Clone Wars together, and then worse after the Purge. No matter how experienced and skilled Rin was, Ben was always going to worry about her. Mainly because he cared about her. But partially because she was one of the few people he had left to worry about. So when the Force gave him a heads up of some sort of impending danger, she was the first person Ben always checked in on.

“I’m sorry Master Rin, It’s just that - “

“Not ‘Master’ anymore, Ben.”

She injected flatly.

“ - Just that I had this… Sense, I suppose. A forewarning… That something important was going to happen here, on Shili, soon.”

Things were quiet for a moment, before Ashla spoke up once again. They kept walking, back towards the village that the Togruta stayed with. Smoke could be seen rising in the air.

“Always trust what the Force tells you, Ben. But I don’t need to tell you this. You knew it wanted you here on Shili, so you came. But I assure you, everything is as quiet as can be out here.”

Trust the Force. Because that had worked out so well for the Jedi.

~The Next Day~

Ben had left the small village that Ashla had stayed with early that morning, loading up The Sunburst and flying back towards Corvala. Truly, the countryside was as quiet as the Togruta had said. But there weren’t too many reasons to make such a ruckus in the country. None the less, the trip had been worth, if only to see Rin and check in on her. Ben felt like it was something he should do every now and then, even if the Force wasn’t trying to prod him in certain directions.

But Corvala was quiet. Or at least, relatively quiet. As quiet as a capital city could be, with an Imperial garrison running one direction, offworlders running another, and locals who didn’t speak anything but their native tongue caught in the middle. But there really didn’t seem to be any trouble. At least, nothing noteworthy. If nothing caught Ben’s attention by tomorrow, he was probably going to pack up and leave. Maybe even that night, if he got bored.

But first, a drink.

Stepping into one of his usual haunts whenever he was on Shili, Ben strolled right up to the bar, and sat down in an empty stool. Considering that it was the middle of the afternoon, there was a surprisingly strong crowd. The background noise was just enough to let you know the place was busy, but not so much so that you couldn’t hear yourself think. Ben was glad to seem the place was doing well. After all, it had one of the best grills around.

Ordering the biggest nerf burger on the menu with a Corvala Gold to wash it down with, Ben watched. And waited. And when the time came, he ate and drank. One burger. Two and a half beers, so far. Nothing. So much for trusting the Force. If it wanted him on Shili, it had a funny sense of humor. Nothing was happening. Nothing was out of place. Of course, Ben wasn’t looking real hard. He wasn’t trying too.

In fact, the only thing the man was looking hard at was the blonde that had made herself at home across the bar. Long, wavy hair. Green eyes. And a helluva nice rack. Ben would say a solid eight-out-of-ten according to his standards, and he hadn’t even seen the rest of her body, yet, as it was hidden behind the counter. And just as the man had thought out his play, and went to make his move, the blonde was lost from view.

No, instead a patch of somewhat worn coveralls was in front of his face, blocking out the whole other side of the bar. Slightly annoyed, Ben frowned, and looked up at the young man standing there. Zabrak. Somewhere in his twenties, by Ben’s estimate. There was something off about him, but Ben shrugged it off for the moment.

“Hey, Kid, ya mind - “

Then it hit Ben. Hit him like a speeder colliding with a durasteel wall at hundreds of miles an hour. Of course there was something off about the Zabrak, because the Zabrak was the only one in the whole bar, besides Ben himself, who was Force-sensitive. And not that small about of Force-sensitivity, where someone just had a little bit of heightened reflexes, or had an innate sense of danger seconds before it happened.

No, the Zabrak was REALLY Force-sensitive. Force-user material.

“Awww, frell…”

Ben turned back to his drink, and downed it in one go. Whatever happened next, he wanted a decent buzz going at least.