Private Eyes Covered in Ink and Bleach

[Ripley Kühn]

DESCENDING TO LOWER LEVELS
CAPTURE CULTISTS
L'yoom Ka ​

The zeltron lifted the cigarette to her lips once more and inhaled deeply. The cinders came close to the butt, the heat licking her fingers. It was a dirty habit, but one that seemed to bring her frenzied mind a moments peace. She tossed the remainder to the ground. The pair continued on, pushing towards the turbolift. She looked to L'yoom thoughtfully. Kahne had always told her practice made perfect, and no training could ever hold a flame to the value of real experience. Ripely was trying to give her padawan just that, but only hoped she wasn't pushing her too hard.

"So, uh, how you feeling?" She asked, cobalt eyes full of empathy. "I imagine you might be nervous. I was my first time, but I was a bit younger than you."

As they finally reached the lift, Ripley hit the button to recall the car. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.

"I'm gonna warn you, the lower levels are a lot different than what you've probably seen of Coruscant. They're dirty, stinky, dark. Filled with all types of people. I know I mentioned our targets," She emphasized, unwilling to reveal details when there could be listening ears about. "But they should be a good starting place. They're not green by any means, but not as powerful as to what you'll find on the 'front. The best thing to do is try to stay calm. When you panic, things can easily go awry."

 

[L'yoom Ka]

It smelled like the ashes of a fire that was dumped in raw sewage-- and L’yoom just stared at the cigarette as it was inhaled. Was it the taste? The feeling? She really couldn’t understand the appeal of it. Her expression held two raised eyebrows, a slight frown and a face that seemed like it was trying its hardest not to seem appalled.

Once it was tossed, she watched the embers die as they moved on. She wore her usual Jedi robe, hood dawned over her montrails as they poked up from the top. The girl seemed otherwise at ease, taking in her surroundings.

“I am well in mind!” She said with a chipper smile up to the Master, “I am only so unaware of this world. So many things are unclear, so many things are unknown.” The girl held her gaze upon her, “And I trust to learn much in our time together. I have great faith in you Master.”

As they moved, her hood would gently tussle with the light breeze, moving into the lift and taking a spot there, waiting patiently beside her.

“Oh I have heard of the stories. You forget me Master, I was once a part of a hunters tribe. It was as close to the dirt as one could be.” L’yoom gave a gentle chuckle, looking forward as she noted her Master’s intentional avoidance of revealing too much.

After the teaching with Ryv, the young Padawan was far more capable of maintaining her connection to the force and falling out of focus. “There will be no utilization of Force Panic today, Master. I give my word” L’yoom more so wanted to make sure that she would not revert to her old ways more than anything. She trusted the force, knowing it to be true. Ripley Kühn

 

[Ripley Kühn]

L'yoom Ka

The padawan's words brought a sly grin to Ripley's face. Both the growing confidence she was showing, and her faith in the zeltron, brought a feeling of warmth. She only hoped that faith would not be shown as misplaced.

"Good! Ryv said you did really well at the training session, so let's keep that momentum rolling."

Silence fell over the pair as the lift descended level upon level. She was largely unbothered by the destination herself. For the zeltron, many a hour had been spent in the underbelly of Galactic City. Before ever returning to her life of a Jedi, it was her home. After, it was her escape from the prying eyes that came with temple life. Anyone could be lost down there, and no one asked questions. Finally, the ding came, signaling their arrival. The metal door slid open, a dimly lit alley ahead, surrounded by metal building on each side.

"Welp, this is us." She stated, making her way into the opening.

She began to walk towards the coordinates that had been given by the agency. Metal buildings gave way to shanty shacks made of scrap metal. The sounds of clattering echoed from afar, as did a child crying somewhere. Hooded figures and those in spacer wear passed, some avoiding eye contact, others seeking it, a challenge waiting. The zeltron in her black leather jacket looked as though she belonged here, but the padawan was another story. Those who gave her questioning glances were greeted by Ripley's unyielding stare, usually falling away at the cue.

"Sorry 'bout them. Not always a fan of the Jedi down here. A lot of folk who have lived here their whole life saw the occupation of the Sith. Our order wasn't even around back then, but they blame us for letting it happen anyways." The zeltron shrugged. "Couldn't fix something when some of our Jedi weren't even born yet. Anyways, that's why I don't where robes. Sentinels walk the bridge between worlds, so they like to blend in with normal folk. Shadows even more so- we don't like to be picked out of a crowd. But, I kinda dig that you do. More traditional. Not for me, but I admire it nonetheless."

She paused, curious, but unsure of whether to ask.

"Was that, uh, something your teachings before were big on? Tradition, that is."

 

[L'yoom Ka]

Ripley Kühn

The young Togruta held a toothy grin, in hopes that Ryv also did not tell her about her mishap with the droid. She simply nodded and accepted the relay of information. The light gently passed across them as the lift made its move. The gentle rumbles of the mechanism at work would put L’yoom even more at ease. There was something about Droid that she simply despised, but the sounds of unsentient mechanisms seem to almost entrance the girl. The sounds unlike that of the birds whistle.

At the base, they exited. The path was certainly anything but welcoming. L’yoom followed in the steps of her Master, hands folded together with quiet steps. As they moved, she would keep her eyes forward, figuring they’d leave her alone if she did the same. She did not exactly take any offense. It was often fair to get some kind of gaze being a Togruta.

“Mother raised our tribe far beyond the modern city. We were told never to go there and convinced us it was a sickness. It weakened the mind to be pampered with technology.” She affirmed, looking toward Ripley with an introspective gaze, “Mother believed we should remain hunters suited to the ways of our ancestors. We have adapted for such an environment. Why change it?”

She paused for a moment, nodding her head.

“It is also understandable to adapt to the changes of the entire galaxy, not just the forest around you. The roots, however, can follow you anywhere. That is why I truly wish to embody the beginning: To understand its foundation. I want to feel what they felt. See what they saw.” She smiled softly, returning back to a more neutral facial attentiveness. “I think your jacket is cool.” A small twitch in her smile trying to return, though she held back.

“I am still trying to understand the many teachings that are so new, I do not find them in old scrolls.” It was true that she wanted to understand, that much was clear. "My old Master was very traditional. I did not realize that was the case at the time."

 

[Ripley Kühn]

L'yoom Ka

"Tradition can be a double edged sword," She started, grasping for more wise things to say. "If wielded properly, even knowledge eons old can guide us. Technology changes, but human nature, and what's right and wrong, does not. However, people can become shackled by it in the same swing. Context morphs alongside our turbulent galaxy."

She paused a moment, pondering her own words. The ambience of a dripping gutter nearby cut through the sounds of the city.

"I think you are bright, and have already seen some of that on your own, like with your mother. I would say it even affects some Jedi, though." Her sentence trailed off as a ruffian passed them, before resuming. "Take, uh, pacifism for example. Those who consider themselves one normally look to the code, and old teachings, citing themselves as keepers of peace. I think at one time, yeah, that probably would have been the best way to follow it. But now that the galaxy is consumed by war, and evil thrives in every corner, I see a much different meaning in that."

The zeltron shrugged, turning a left corner, cutting through an alleyway.

"That's not to say I think they're wrong- every Jedi has to decide their own path, including you. But, uh," Her hand rose to touch the back of her head, the realization that she was rambling dawning on her. "I guess what I'm getting at is, there isn't an right way in tradition or new age, but there are... grey areas? I urge you to explore them. I don't think I would have found what being a Jedi really means to me, had I not gotten the same encouragement."

A sheepish smile crossed her face as she looked back to her padawan.

"Uh, yeah. Weird subject."

 

[L'yoom Ka]

L’yoom thought about what she said about tradition. There was an ever-changing world around them. That much she knew-- especially for the non-native. It certainly left her mind into a ponderous state, nodding as she spoke to her. The gentle steps would echo with gentle pats of their shoes to the puddles below them, rippling throughout. The girl took a deep breath, accidentally catching the stench of the place but kept her composure regardless.

She followed aside her master, turning the corner while still listening to her explanation. The route of pacifism was one certainly treated with danger. It often made her wonder... If she met the one who killed her Master, what would she do?

“Grey area.” The Togruta affirmed to herself, blinking at the notion. That was pertaining an idea that the old texts would refrain from… But why? There questions, yes. L’yoom knew that they were for her to discover.

“Not weird. Helpful.” The girl said with a more so neutral gaze that shifted into a soft smile. As she looked forward, her eyes were drawn to some nearby individuals that were handling some questionable materials-- things used to escape this world in a sense.

It was rude to stare, she pulled away her gaze-- moving steadily. “We won’t hurt anyone here, will we Master?” She curiously asked, turning her head to see another few who were already in a dazed state.

Ripley Kühn

 

[Ripley Kühn]

L'yoom Ka

Ripley's lips tugged down. Guardians of life. It was a statement she had always wrestled with. There was never any protecting everyone, no matter how hard you tried. Evil lurked everywhere, and if it wasn't rooted, it would fester until it hurt someone. Inaction could be as lethal as a blaster to the head.

"We'll... try not to." She stated carefully.

"These targets, well, they're not exactly known for giving us much of a choice. They like to hide in the shadows, strike in the night, kidnap some of the kids from places like this," she gestured to the desolate neighborhood around them. "And indoctrinate them to the Sith ways. We'll want to bring them back alive, both for our conscious and so the Agency can question them, see who's giving them their fuel. But, if it comes down to your safety versus theirs, there's no question for me."

There was a fierceness about her last sentence. Practice was the best application of learning, but Ripley had quickly grown attached to her padawan. She looped another turn, before looking back to L'yoom and raising a finger to her lips.

"Up there. Stay close to me."

The warehouse was ominous, to say the least. It was shrouded in darkness, literally and figuratively. Ripley crept towards one of the windows, peering in. There was no sign of life; but she could feel something below. Light footsteps carried her to the door, looking to L'yoom once more.

"I think they may have set up shop in the basement. You ready?"

 

[L'yoom Ka]

There was a stricken reality that hit L’yoom, imagining her own life as a child-- as harshly traditional as it was, at least had some form of structure. The girl could not imagine the idea of losing all gears of reality by being kidnapped. It was in this instance that she began to wonder what more these criminals may do without their knowledge. A new determination to complete this mission suddenly boasted within her.

L’yoom gave a nod back to her Master, accepting the reality as it comes.

"I'm here." She'd state in attentiveness, acknowledging that she was paying close attention in this critical time of learning.

Closely, the Padawan did follow. At the indication of the finger lips motion, she knew what that meant having seen it before. The girl was cautious, glancing about around them to assure they weren’t also being watched or followed. Steadily, she closed her eyes and felt the gentle trimmers of footsteps. It was difficult to tell from where, but that they were at least present.

That is when she opened her eyes and realized Ripley was already on the move. With another glance about, she moved after her, stopping only when her Master did. L’yoom looked at her as she spoke, speaking of the basement. That might have been why she couldn’t have pinpointed a location…

“Always.” She’d muse with the determination clear in her eyes.

A part of her wanted to ask if they could offer them to surrender first, but felt that those who would go to these lengths would likely not find that option too appealing... Though, all she knew was what Ripley told her, but L'yoom trusted her.

Ripley Kühn