Private Bittersweet Symphony

[Inanna Harth]

"You look well, Inanna."

Inanna studied her old HRD companion, Ayreon, from across the table. She'd first encountered him in a bar similar to this one, and though it was Coruscant rather than Zeltros, and someone else owned the establishment (and by extension, owned Ayreon himself), she couldn't help but feel a wave of bittersweet nostalgia.

"Thanks," she replied. "You look pretty good yourself."

Ayreon inclined his head slightly in appreciation of her joke, before getting down to business. "I understand you are looking for Pygar?"

"Yeah. I assumed... well, we all thought he was dead. He was presumed killed in action at the Battle of Goshen. He'd been wounded and was being evacuated when they shot him out of the sky." She took a deep breath, then exhaled in a sigh. "Then I heard from somebody else that they had seen him on Coruscant. Under the control of a Sith Lord."

Folding his hands carefully, Ayreon leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Do you know the name of this Sith?"

"He said she called herself Erictho. She was gathering Sithspawn to serve as her slaves." Pulling out her datapad, she discreetly showed him a set of coordinates. "That's the last place she was seen. I already checked it out, but the whole place looked abandoned..."

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Qhorin had heard dark whispers since arriving on Coruscant. He had come to the sprawling city-planet to explore the collapsed Jedi temple beneath the city, to traverse its warrens and gain perspective on who and what the Jedi were before his own order split from them centuries ago. Instead, he had wandered his way into a dark plot.

There was a Sith somewhere on the planet.

He had extended his stay for that reason alone, compelled, by creed and the Force itself, to lend his skills and talents as he could, for the Sith were ever the bane of peace and justice. But he lacked information, and he could only discern so much from unsubstantiated rumors.

So he trawled from tavern to tavern, clad in his dark green tabard, hunting for kernels of truth amidst the gossip of its patrons, the Force drawn tight about him like a cloak to ward off observers so he could linger and listen unnoticed and unbothered. Finally, after several days of searching, he found what he had been looking for while eavesdropping at the bar of a cantina that seemed no different from any other.

"... they had seen him on Coruscant… under the control of a Sith Lord," said a woman, her voice low and smoky.

Qhorin stretched his senses immediately, filtered out the background noise of the cantina, the clinking glasses, the susurrous murmur of voices, and focused.

"Do you know the name of this Sith?" whispered a man. He was young and slim, with neatly cut hair and brown eyes. A disturbingly lifelike droid, Qhorin surmised, for he felt nothing from him in the Force, only the quiet cold of metal parts and the crackling whir of inner circuits.

"He said she called herself Erictho,” said the woman. “She was gathering Sithspawn to serve as her slaves."

Qhorin was already approaching, his steps long and languid. The woman had a datapad in her hand and had adjusted herself to show its screen to the man sitting across from her. Qhorin uncloaked himself just enough to be noticed by the duo and made himself known.

“Forgive my intrusion, and for eavesdropping, but…I believe we may be able to help one another.” He gave a gentle smile and inclined his head in a slight bow. “My name is Qhorin Solas. I too am hunting a Sith.”

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

The moment the stranger made himself known, interrupting what was supposed to be a private conversation, Inanna slammed her datapad screen-down and palmed her weapon. The lightsaber hilt appeared from seemingly out of nowhere; in fact, it had been concealed within the malleable Shi’ido flesh of her forearm. Her reaction was purely instinctual, the result of years spent living in paranoia and fear.

“Keep your voice down, mister,” she hissed.

Ayreon was more subtle. He made no movements apart from shifting slightly in his seat as he turned to face the mysterious man standing over their booth.

“Perhaps it was unwise of us to have this conversation here in the first place,” the HRD commented, gesturing toward the door.

She promptly rose from her seat and exited the bar, with Ayreon following close behind. If Qhorin elected to pursue them, he would find the pair standing outside. Inanna’s body language was stiff, with her fists clenched at her sides and her expression pulled into a snarl. Or perhaps a grimace.

“Look,” she began. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re looking for. This is a private matter. A personal matter. It’s none of your business.”

“He may be able to help us,” Ayreon said, his carefully modulated tone at once reassuring and convincing. “Mr. Solas, are you by any chance a Jedi?”

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Qhorin quirked an eyebrow at the woman’s impressive reflexes. Her reaction alone told him more about who she was than words might have; one didn’t develop such instincts living a life of ease and plenty. This one, at the least, was a fighter, though perhaps a fighter born of desperation rather than desire, for the emotions behind her reaction echoed darkly in the Force.

He followed them from the bar at a respectful distance out of courtesy, to give the woman her distance. Beneath the dim Coruscant sky, the sun wreathed in wispy clouds of smog, the Jedi joined the pair on the concourse. The woman was all but sneering at him, her body language radiating suspicion- he answered her quiet hostility with a languid smile.

“Look,” she said, her voice tight, “I don’t care who you are or what you’re looking for. This is a private matter. A personal matter. It’s none of your business.”

“He may be able to help us,” the man cut it in. “Mr. Solas, are you by any chance a Jedi?”

“Just so,” Qhorin replied, brown eyes twinkling in the wan sunlight. “But certainly not by chance. I am by blood and creed, a Jedi.” He focused his attention on the woman, voice ringing with the thrum of truth. “I agree, your personal matter is none of my concern; I care only to find this… Erictho. Your motives are your own.”

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

“We’re not taking down Erictho,” Inanna replied. “We’re saving my brother’s life. I won't be a partner to your feud with the Sith, Jedi.”

She wasn’t normally this antagonistic, even toward Jedi, but something about the situation had really rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was because she knew they would likely need his help, and that infuriated her. She longed for independence and the power to handle her problems on her own. Ayreon was a droid, a tool for her to use; Qhorin was a person with his own agendas.

“His interests overlap with ours,” Ayreon pointed out, still trying to play the part of peacemaker. “We could use the extra help.”

Inanna glanced from him to Qhorin, her expression still hard and flinty. But she seemed to finally relent. “Fine. But don’t you forget that this is a rescue operation, not an assassination. If you get so caught up in killing this Sith, and my brother is hurt or killed in the process…” She left the threat open-ended, letting his imagination fill in the blanks.

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The Jedi was taken aback. My feud? "And if my 'feud' saves your brother?"

"His interest's overlap ours," the lifelike droid said. "We could use the extra help."

Droids, he thought. Ever the voice of reason.

"Fine," the woman spat. "But don't you forget that this is a rescue operation, not an assassination. If you get so caught up in killing this Sith, and my brother is hurt or killed in the process…"

Qhorin graced her with a frown of intense consternation, almost irritated by her insinuation, as if he were some brash mercenary slavering for a kill. She does not know you, he thought, releasing his disquiet into the Force, like brushing dirt from his shoulder. She is afraid for her brother, afraid of your motives, and afraid of what the future holds. And what did that say about the state of the galaxy, he thought, that even a Jedi's motives would be questioned?

"I don't know what Jedi you've encountered before, ma'am, but they are not me. I will never turn down the opportunity to save a life in order to claim another. If your brother is hurt or killed, it will be through no fault of mine. This is my word." The Force thrummed with the veracity of his oath, like the deep rumble of a bossed gong. So mote it be.

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Inanna replied, though she seemed to have calmed down considerably. Holding out her datapad, she showed Qhorin the coordinates. The location was an abandoned factory in Sector 943, aka ‘The Works’.

“This is the last place Erictho was seen. She’s probably not there anymore, but it’s a good place to start the search.”

"I will accompany you," Ayreon said, leaving little room for argument. Not that Inanna would have tried to stop him. Turning to Qhorin, he asked, "Will you require transportation, or can you meet us there?"

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

A good place to start indeed.

Qhorin studied the data pad with shrewd eyes. He was only fleetingly familiar with the sector, having passed over it in his transport when making his way to the ruins of the Jedi temple. The sector was half a ruin itself, long abandoned by the corporations that built it, now little more than a dangerous slum. And the secret hideout of a Sith Lord.

"I'll meet you there," he said, committing the location to memory. He eyed the pair, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t the slightest clue who they actually were. "But before I go, I would have your names."

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

“I am Ayreon,” the HRD answered first.

“Inanna,” the Shi’ido replied brusquely. “Let’s go.”

She walked away, heading toward an airspeeder parked nearby. Ayreon glanced between her and Qhorin, perhaps expecting other questions from the latter, before he followed the former. The speeder soon lifted up into the congested Coruscanti skyways, headed for Sector 943.

The air in the Works remained polluted, the horizon blurred by smog. Upon reaching their destination, Inanna noted that the factory stood next to a nearby apartment complex that was still occupied. The residents she glimpsed from outside were hardscrabble, but didn’t look dangerous.

The pair waited for Qhorin to arrive, assuming he hadn’t gotten there first. Observing the factory from a distance, they found it was surrounded by a rusted fence. A hole had been torn in the chain links, large enough even for someone as large as Ayreon to pass through.

“They have power,” Ayreon noted, his scanners analyzing the factory’s utilities system. “Presumably from a generator. Someone has either been there recently, or is still there even now.”

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Ayreon and Inanna. They were an interesting pair.

The jedi had no further questions. He parted ways from the pair, walking briskly to his own speeder parked just a ways down the concourse. The journey was quick and uneventful- he threaded the busy sky lanes with casual ease, speeding his way down and down to Sector 943, the ebbs of the Force growing bleaker and bleaker the deeper he went.

He came upon a bleak slum wreathed in clouds of black smog, the air acrid with the stench of pollutants. He observed the factory as he landed, spreading his senses through its crumbling walls and creaking corridors. He sensed echoes of malevolence and pain, of anger and great fear. He sensed the Darkside.

He parked atop a low, flat building, and jumped down to the ground, in an alley next to a ramshackle apartment complex, and found Ayreon and Inanna some ways away from the factory itself.

"They have power," Ayreon was saying as he approached. "Presumably from a generator. Someone has either been there recently, or is still there even now."

"So...shall we?"

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

Qhorin seemed to suddenly appear from out of nowhere, though as Inanna recovered from the initial jolt of his arrival, she saw that he must’ve come from the alleyway. She glared at the Jedi, then turned toward the gap in the fence. “It isn’t electrified, is it?”

“No. But I’ll go first if it makes you feel better.” Ayreon held the chain links apart as he ducked through the gap. “Perfectly safe.”

Inanna stepped in after him, and they headed for the entrance. The bulk of the factory was located further down, and the only way to descend was via a broken elevator. The empty shaft was visible through the open doors.

“Look.” Ayreon pointed. “A system of ropes for climbing down. And I believe that is a handicapped ramp.”

“Like for people in hoverchairs?” Inanna asked.

“Yes. Very interesting… What exactly was this place being used for?”

Inanna pursed her lips. She knew the answer, but wasn’t sure if she wanted a Jedi to hear it. “I don’t know. Probably just homeless people. A lot of them are disabled and can’t work because of it.”

They took the ramp down, descending into the depths of the factory.

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Without further adieu, Qhorin followed the pair into the looming factory, ducking beneath the poor excuse for a fence. The landing around the elevator shaft ahead was a maze of ramshackle tents and hovels, all long abandoned; a place of despair, enshrouded in a heavy silence.

Ayreon pointed out a series of ropes for climbing down the empty shaft, as well as an access ramp for the handicapped. "What exactly was this place being used for?" he asked.

Qhorin was curious as well, and focused his attention on Inanna. The things he sensed in the Force were quite troubling.

"I don't know," she replied. "Probably just homeless people. A lot of them are disabled and can't work because of it."

The Jedi's gaze turned shrewd, brow creasing in the slightest of scowls. The woman was lying, of that he was sure. She could have her secrets, he decided. The truth would out, for he was ever its seeker.

He followed them down the ramp.

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

What they found below only raised more questions. The “abandoned” factory still showed signs of recent activity. Plants grew in a makeshift greenhouse, the kitchen was stocked with food and rations, and there were rooms with beds made and other belongings left behind. It was as if an entire community had existed there, until one day the residents had all left suddenly and without warning.

The eerie atmosphere this created was enough to keep Inanna from straying too far from her companions. She stuck close to Ayreon, half-expecting someone to appear from the shadows with a tale of horror at the hands of the Sith. Every chamber they entered, she crossed her fingers, hoping and praying they wouldn’t find dried blood or rotting sentient remains inside.

“Something is in there,” Inanna said, pointing down a darkened hall. A vast network of tunnels, the original use of which she could only guess at, lay before them. “I can feel it.”

“I will map our progress through this labyrinth,” Ayreon assured her, his photoreceptors scanning their surroundings and committing them to memory. “That way we won’t get lost.”

“Thanks.”

They headed into the winding maze. Inanna, following a hunch, led the way… and bumped into something hanging from the ceiling.

She gasped, startled, and reached up. Her fingers brushed someone’s bare foot. The other was encased in a boot, one having fallen off. Someone was hanging from the ceiling, barely alive.

“Oh my—Ayreon, Qhorin, help!” Inanna exclaimed, using the Force to free the body, which then fell into her arms.

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

The abandoned factory didn't quite live up to it's name. People had lived here. There were sleeping quarters- cluttered rooms lined with beds, a kitchen- stocked, he saw, after perusing its cabinets- and even a greenhouse, where there grew fruit-bearing plants and vegetables alike; he saw meiloorun, sweet granadilla, and twisting stalks of Ithorian rhubarbs.

People hadn't just lived here, he thought. This had been a community, and a tight-knit one. But a community for what purpose? An enclave? A cult?

The more he saw, the more questions he had.

It grew gradually darker the deeper they went into the facility, entire corridors swallowed in shadow. Qhorin, guided by the Force, had no fear of the dark, but he drew his lightsaber anyway and held it high, activating it with a snap-hiss and a quiet thrum. Bright indigo light splashed over the walls and up the ceiling, chasing the shadows away.

"Something is in there," Inanna said, pointing down a particular hall. They had come upon a warren of dark tunnels. "I can feel it."

He focused his senses, and-

Yes, there is something. Something alive, but only barely so...

"I will map our progress," Ayreon said. "That way we won't get lost."

Inanna led them into the tunnels, with Qhorin bringing up the rear. It wasn't long before Inanna found what she'd sensed; a being, hanging from the ceiling, barely clinging to life.

"Oh my- Ayreon, Qhorin, help!"

The Jedi deactivated his saber and moved liked a blur, assisting in placing the being on the ground. "I am no dedicated healer," he began, placing a hand over the being's chest, "but I will do what I can."

He reached out into the Force like one might wade into the ocean, sinking into it's flowing waters. The energies of Life bloomed in him as if a flower in the height of spring- glowing with a wan light like a breaking dawn, he directed them, carefully, into the body lying at his feet.

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

In the darkness, it was hard to make out the person’s face. But as Inanna laid them out on the ground, she saw a shock of white hair and two pale crescents as their milky eyes fluttered open.

It was Pygar, her brother.

Ayreon kneeled down and scanned his body, delivering a medical assessment. “Hoole, Pygar. Multiple lacerations detected. Cracked rib on left side, slight concussion. Administering bacta and stimulants.”

But more vitally, Pygar seemed to have been drained of energy. His aura in the Force was barely there, and fading fast.

“Here,” Inanna said, pulling the chain from her neck. On the pendant there hung a blue gem that hummed with power. She held it out to Qhorin, a note of desperation in her voice. “Use this to help heal him, please.”

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

"Hoole, Pygar," Ayreon said, voice almost clinical. "Multiple lacerations detected. Cracked rib on left side, slight concussion. Administering bacta and stimulants."

Qhorin could feel Inanna's stress in the Force, her fear, feel it swirl and bloom, a dark flicker to his own golden sheen.

"Here," she said. "Use this to help heal him, please." She gave him the gem that had been hanging from her neck.

It radiated pure energies like a star gave off light. Instinctively, he slipped the chain around Pygar's neck and placed a hand over the gem; it could heal on its own, he could see it in the Force, the way the its purifying energies suffused the wearer, soaking into wounds, but with his guidance and will to drive the gem's intrinsic power, he focused its energies not only into the man's wounds, but into his very soul. It's power pulsed as a heart might, waxing and waning like a tide, with each crest greater than the last.

The gem wanted to heal, he barely even needed to guide it. Sheer white light filled the hall, streaked in swathes of twinkling blue, radiating from the gem.

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

The light produced by the gem cast a bright glow over their faces. Inanna’s was tight with worry, her lips moving faintly in what might have been a prayer, while Ayreon’s gaze was intently focused.

“His vitals are stabilizing. It’s working,” the HRD said. “His skeleton is more fragile than that of a human. He’s lucky his injuries aren’t more severe.”

Pygar’s wounds healed rapidly, cuts and bruises disappearing before their eyes. The state of his soul was more complicated; he had been deliberately drained of life. For all its purity, the gem could not restore him fully.

Still, it gave him enough to survive. Milky white eyes shot open with sudden awareness, and Pygar sat bolt upright, the gem hanging from his neck.

“Wha—?!” he blurted, then broke into a fit of coughing. Wincing, he clutched his side, where his still-healing rib was.

Inanna instinctively reached out to steady him, lowering him back into a supine position. “Don’t move around too much. You’re still hurt.”

“Inanna?” he sounded shocked to hear her voice. “Am I dying…?”

“No, no. We’re saving you. You’re going to be okay.”

“She’s—she tried to kill me—” Pygar’s speech was halting as he struggled to catch his breath. “She was inside my head, made me do things… But something made her slip up, and I had control for a little while, and…” His expression contorted with pain. “Where is she?!” he howled.

“We don’t know,” Inanna replied. “That’s why we’re here. To help. Please, try to stay calm…”

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Qhorin leaned away as Pygar's eyes snapped open and he jolted upright. The gem dangled from his neck, still glowing gently. He tried to speak and broke into a coughing fit. As Inanna moved to lower him back to the floor, Qhorin climbed to his feet and stepped away, giving them their space.

Their emotions resonated in the Force, bold and bright. Inanna's cautious hope had blossomed into a light that tasted of joy and delight. From Pygar, there came disbelief, and then anger- great anger, red and wicked and tinted black with hate.

Qhorin faced a dilemma. Pygar's mind was still weak- the Jedi could calm him easily with the Force, but he didn't think it wise to mess with the mind of a man who had only so recently gained use of his free-will. It felt like a violation. He decided to use words instead.

"You are safe now, Pygar, and reunited with your sister. You are alive and free. Take solace in that." He withheld his questions. He wasn't so callous as to interrogate a man in such a poor state.

Inanna Harth

 

[Inanna Harth]

To say that Inanna was overjoyed or delighted was perhaps an exaggeration. The relationship between her and Pygar was… complicated, and while she was glad to see him again, any happiness she felt was overshadowed by the alarming circumstances of their reunion.

Ayreon peered down at Pygar. “Greetings,” he said. “I am Ayreon. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

Pygar blinked at the HRD, coughing faintly. Inanna produced a bottle of water, which her brother took and drank deeply, some of the liquid missing his mouth and trickling down his chin.

“Is the person who hurt you still here?” Inanna asked anxiously.

“I don’t know,” Pygar replied. After his emotional outburst, exhaustion seemed to be setting in, slurring his speech. “She left me here to die. Probably… as a warning to anyone who came back to the Reef.”

“The Reef?” Inanna echoed. “You mean the Sanctorium?”

“They’re the same thing. A safe haven for… people like me.” He was drifting, his head lolling against Inanna’s chest. “So tired…”

Inanna clasped him tightly, looking up at the others. “We should get him out of here.”

Qhorin Solas​

 

[Qhorin Solas]

Qhorin agreed wholeheartedly. "Yes you should. It's possible that she is still here, perhaps deeper in these tunnels. He can't have been hanging for very long."

The way back was clear, as far as he knew, so they would be safe. Inanna's "rescue operation" was a success, but now...

Now he needed to find the Sith.

Still, he was no reckless young knight to go off traipsing through the dark, wading carelessly into the unknown. There were things he still did not yet understand, motives of his enemy that eluded him. The Force spoke of caution, and he heeded its warning.

"I will accompany you back up the shaft, just in case this is a trap of some sort... but I intend to return and continue searching these warrens. Erictho must be found." She could not be allowed to corrupt more minds, to ruin more lives- he wouldn't stand for it.

Inanna Harth