Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Look, I Can Explain.

Manaan
Ahto City
Silk Facilities
Ahto_City.png
"So tell me again how you got heavy scorch marks on our ship?" Questioning eyes bore deep into him, and a blank expression turned to panic for but am instant."I'm telling you, pirates attacked the ship." His hand fell on the spots in question on the Calrissian class cruiser's engine. "As you can see they were pursuing me for the Kolto I was shipping, and I barely made it out alive."Stepping back from the technician and the Hangar supervisor, he held his hands up in frustration. "I'm telling you the truth, and my shipment arrived on time. So I don't see what the deal is."

"This isn't the first time Tobias, and there are scorch marks from small weapons fire inside your ship." Anxiety caused him to bite his lip as he turned around, ever searching for an escape route. "We also found the compartments in the halls along with all your weapons." As if on cue, he heard two security officers come out of the JackDaw with his Hyperion Rifle and other assorted gear he used. A long sigh escaped his mouth as rubbed his face with his hands.

"Son, why don't you just wait here. We are going to go to Mr. Merrill about this."

Feth, was all he thought as he sat on a container. The two guards stayed with him while they took the weapons and an interesting ring to [member="Jorus Merrill"].
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Jorus wasn't with Silk anymore - hadn't been for a good five years or so - but his little office on Manaan waswas in the Silk complex. Baobab Astrography did plenty of business with them. The office was new and nothing special, but even unimpressive Ahto City offices were still Ahto City offices. Baobab wouldn't have spent the money, but as Silk's founder he apparently merited a perk or two. It would have been bad business to say no.

It also gave him convenient access when Silk had problems that came back to one J.Q. Merrill.

He was examining the Rebel Alliance ring, twin to the ring he wore, when Tobias came in. "Tobias."
 
[member="Jorus Merrill"]


Silk didn't treat its employees harshly, even those in his situation. Waiting for an hour hadn't been fun, nor was the awkward silence exciting. Few glances were shared and zero words were spoken as he sat there. Minutes moved as if they were in cold mollases, and he knew every detail of the crate he sat on as well as what his hand looked like. Can they just fire or arrest me? It was a rather cynical question. If he was fired there was no telling what would happen, the hutts than missions for weren't forgiving. Compact that with his gambling debt, and they would enslave or kill him.

If they jail me, I'm dead too.


"Tobias."

Maps were everywhere in the office, and quite a few interesting trinkets caught his eye. His name was part addressing him, part an invitation to sit. A loud exhale left his throat when he crashed into the rather comfortable chair. Toby almost made a comment on how they could cut expenses on chairs and pay him more, but he kept silent. Instead he looked at his guns on the table and a ring he didn't want people to see. His mouth opened and he raised his hand to speak before seeing the same ring on Mr. Merrill 's hand.

"That ring belonged to my best friend, I didn't steal it I swear."
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Jorus shrugged. "I've never cared much about petty theft, Tobias. A man's got to eat. Y'know, I once owned close to the fastest elite starfighter in the galaxy, a Santhe/Sienar TIE Aleph. Only a handful were ever made, around the time of the Battle of Roche. I got mine by doing something I wasn't proud of, but I made that ship a holy terror with the Rebel Alliance. Some nights I dream about flying it again. And you know what? I placed it as an auction bid because someone was auctioning off one of these rings. Everyone else was bidding two, three thousand, but me? I bid a starfighter worth close to a million." He tapped his ring. "For a ring just like this one.

"So you could say I make myself aware when they pop up. Tell me about your friend, and who you work for other than Silk Holdings."

Very matter-of-fact. He might as well have been talking about the weather, if not for the fact that he was clearly not disinterested.
 
[member="Jorus Merrill"]

"You sold that fighter?" Tobias was like everyone else when they heard about that fighter: in awe. The fact that the man before him had not only owned one, but sold it was crazy. Any smuggler or pilot would have died for that vessel, and this man traded it for a ring? Whatever words he wanted to say, they failed him as he looked at the matching rings. Of all the places to find a member of the Rebel Alliance, and it turns out to be the guy who made the company that writes my checks? His mind sufficiently blown, he just sat there in silence.

Oh right, he asked me two questions. I'm caught, might as well be honest. So the pilot was.

"I was a soldier in the old Sith Empire. My unit was recon, we were all children. My best friend in the ranks would dissapear at times, and as we got older a few missions would go salty." A haunted expression came over his face, but he pressed on. "I knew he was sabotaging us, but I turned a blind eye. He disappeared during a raid, and I found him copying sensitive Intel for someone other than us. Had it been me, Dareus would still be alive."

Another pause, "but my CO was behind me. So they took him into custody." The fine wood desk was all he focused on as his eyes dropped. "To prove my loyalty they asked me to execute him. I was going to shoot them, but Dareus told me to do it and get out when I could so one of us could live and all this mean something." The painful memory flashed across his face.

"So I shot him, and took the ring hoping I'd find you guys." All the color was drained from his features. "The hutts found me first and took my gambling debt, I've been smuggling for them to pay it off so I could be free."
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

When a deep cover operative got pinched, word rarely came back as to the particulars. Jorus remembered that kid, Dareus. Given him the ring personally. But it was equally plausible that Tobias had acquired the ring through being on the other side of the mess. A decent background sweep would have revealed Jorus' penchant for spacers down on their luck, and his own history of Hutt debt. The worst kind of debt. It wouldn't take much imagination to set up a legend that would play to Jorus' sympathies.

And Jorus didn't have the telepathic chops to read truth. Not for sure.

"Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself?" he said evenly. "And this Dareus."
 
"Dareus, he was my one and only friend with the Empire. We were paired for most scout missions and we actually went through training together." Memories of standing back to back in hostile territory came flashing back. Echoed of their friendship ran across his mind's eye. It was like a twisted movie he saw transposed with Jorus' face. Details Tobias, he is checking to see if you've lied to him in any way. No emotion flashed across his face as he retraced his life to the point where he had met the man he had to gun down.

"I met him at the orphanage, I don't know what planet we were on. Hell, I don't remember anything about my life before that." Anytime he tried to remember life before then it all got hazy."I'm sorry I don't have more to tell you." A long paused ensued.

"So what happens?"

[member="Jorus Merrill"]
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Jorus looked away and tapped a code into his desk. Then another code, then another code. Eventually a file came up from the old Rebel Alliance records: Dareus' file. He scrolled through to background profile. Orphanage, check, but that could have been extracted -- this was the first account he'd been given of how, exactly, that particular agent had died. Served him right, a small part of him said, for keeping the Rebel Alliance ring while he was in deep cover. He pushed that small part away and dug farther. Two -- no, three -- mentions of a Tobias Cross, and one blurry picture of the two of them.

He closed the holofile. Time to move on. "All right, that part checks out. And that means you don't get found floating at the Ahto City docks." A joke, mostly. "Let's speculate about how you can make your situation work for this." He tapped the ring where it lay on the table.
 
[member="Jorus Merrill"]

"You mean, you want me to help?" Tobias' face expressed pure shock. At the very least he had been expecting jail time, if not more. This was most unexpected, but it felt right. Dareus' trademark smile flashed across his thoughts. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the familiar tingle of a warning. Why do I feel like I'm making a much bigger choice than what this appears.

"I'll do it, for three things." A cough could be heard as he cleared his throat.

"I want out of the drug trade, and I can only do that if I pay the hutts off or kill them. I'd also like to know more about myself. I know Cross isn't my real last name. I want to know why I have no memory of my parents and what this means." Reaching into his shirt, he unclipped his dog tag chain. A simple, silver ring slid off into hid hand. He carefully laid it on the desk. Inside, where three names.

D. Wraith, R. Sergeo, J. Olra'en
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

"I don't pay people's debts for them, as a general rule. And I sure don't kill Hutts at random. What I can do is give you some shipping runs -- high risk, high reward, probably enough to clear your slate. If they still aren't satisfied after you've met the number, then I can step in and have a word."

Jorus examined the dog tags, rubbed them between thumb and knuckle. "I'll look into it. Sergeo's not a name I know, but the other two mean something to me. Both were Grandmasters of the Jedi Order, both were dicks, both were blademasters, and both were linked to a few women in their day. Also, they're both dead, more or less." There were anomalies there -- the identity of Selka Ventus, who he'd known as a cover identity for Olra'en, and the identity of Shule Windspeaker, who'd arrived more recently on the scene -- but not ones he had explored. Too much on his plate, and too little desire for Jedi drama. "Like I said, I'll look into it. By my count, that's two things you're asking. What's the third?"
 
[member="Jorus Merrill"]

"Thank you, I mean that. I need a way to get rid of this crushing debt." Relief laced his words and his shoulders relaxed, as if a weight had been removed from them. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his legs and heldd his face for a moment. Emotion over took him, and tears started to freely flow. Pure elation, happiness, and freedom were all concepts he knew little of. At the orphanage life he been a constant struggle. And a blur. Everyone there resented him and called him a liar for. It knowing his parents or his past. In the military he had been made to do things he as appalled with, and he had barely survived that.

His escape had led him right to debt, yet Jorus could help.

Lost in his thoughts, he had to backtrack on what he had been told. "You mean that ring," he pointed at it before continuing. "That ring has the names of two Jedi GrandMasters? I've never even met a Jedi, all I know is that they tend to stop smugglers and they fight the Sith all the time. So why would I have had this since I was six years old? Why did my parents leave me this?" A loud sigh escaped Tobias as he leaned back, more questions coming to him.

"Why can I do this?"

His right hand extended, and he stared right at the ring he had given to Jorus. Shimmering, white teeth but his lip in concentration as he thought about how badly he wanted that ring back. What started a rattle, soon made the ring slowly slide before it leapt off the desk and into his hand.
 
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Jorus blinked.

"Well, here's what I'll do. Two things. First one is, I'll send you to someone who might have an answer for you: Selka Ventus. She Silk's CEO, then she was CEO of Akure Executive Interstellar...and now? Now she runs a cybernetics start-up right here in Ahto City. Little place called iBorg. My recommendation will let you see her. I'll call ahead. Now, here's the second thing." He tapped his desk surface, and the holographic interface switched to a guest profile as it turned to face Tobias.

"This is keyed in to some pretty good sources, good search databases. Type in Je'gan Olra'en Darron Wraith R Sergeo, find out who this Sergeo was, take a look at publicly known bios of the three of'em, figure out what they were doing with their lives when you were given this at age six and when you were born...and see what there is to see. Go ahead; I'm curious too."
 
Two Hours Later...

Rain beat against him, it as a dreary day in Ahto city. Questions were burning in his mind as he held his head low and kept his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Blending in was easy for the former orphan, he had long learned how to blend in with the crowd. [member="Jorus Merrill"] had given him great directions to the offices of a woman named [member="Selka Ventus"], and he followed the directions he had put in on the GPS unit on his wrist. Water dribbled down the leather jacket, and more splashed onto his trousers when he hit the occasional puddle. Most had their umbrellas, well the few brave souls who weren't taking public transit or trying to get inside. Millions of people in this city, and I've finally got the streets mostly to myself. What should have been a smile crossing his face, merely formed the ghost of it. Thoughts were raging inside his mind, only more ferociously than the one above him. Every drop of rain was a question buzzing across his consciousness, and every roar of thunder was a bit of anger boiling to the surface. Howling winds tried to shift his focus off the ring in his hand, off the three names that were emblazoned on the inside of it. Tobias fought back, because that was what he always did.

Who am I?

It burned in the back of his brain, it was the itch he couldn't scratch. Looking back on his first few days at the Orphanage, he couldn't only remember having that ring. At night he would stare at it, and wonder if those names would come rescue him. Years passed, and he grew to wonder if they had hated him and left him there to rot. When the One Sith had come knocking, he often had questioned why had he even been left with this. Who in their right mind would leave a kid with this, when life is leading him further and further from the people who gave him this? Memories of his past clouded his mind, yet the storm was only brewing within him as well as in Ahto City. His walk took him closer and closer to the offices of the woman he was to see, and he could only remember what the government searches had finally shown him. Lingering eyes fell on him as he blazed his own trail towards the front doors of iBorg, and he entered the reception area. Though decorated in a spartan manner, he could tell many credits had been spent, yet his mind went down a different path.

Years of searching every database he could find had only brought up a restricted access page, and now he had some answers. He knew Rolf Sergeo was a powerful Jedi Master who went missing in action nearly 35 years ago. Je'gan Olra'en had been the greatest illusionist the galaxy had ever seen, whatever that was. Files had also shown an extensive military background, and a few video interviews had shown him to be quite the polished man who was also a Jedi Grandmaster. Darron Wraith had been the one that had piqued his interest the most, he spoke of honor and duty in every video he had seen. Every file talked about the man's prowess in the battlefield, and how his enemies had respected him. What linked the three besides their Jedi roots was a simple fact, they had all been friends at one point. Yes they were all dead, but two had died nearly thirty years after the fact and Wraith was much too young to have lived that long. Records of a freezing accident popped up, but his time had been limited with the search engine Mr. Merrill had let him borrow.

There also wasn't a single mention of a Tobias Cross, or a record of a birth of anyone named that the year he was born.

So who am I really?

That question burned at the forefront as he walked in, the files clutched under his jacket. Ms. Ventus was seated at her desk, and he stood there for a moment as he was introduced. "Good afternoon Ms. Ventus, I was told to come see you by Mr. Merrill. My name is Tobias Cross."
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Selka Ventus' office was distinguished by its smallness and simplicity, a pattern that had held true even when she served as CEO of Silk and Akure -- two of the galaxy's largest corporations, by any objective measure, right up there with Santhe/Sienar and ATC and the rest. Her offices, whether on powerful starships or fortress worlds or the Tion Trade Nexus itself, had always been about three paces by five, with minimal decoration. A shelf behind her held two large potted plants, both endangered. One was a black-petal Murakami orchid, the other was a Dromund Kaas dart flower; both were semi-sentient but largely uninvolved in the affairs of humanoids. To those in the know, her choice of office greenery sent the simple message that she knew the rare and exotic intimately. She expected those subtle statements, and others, to be lost on the spacer pilot currently sitting on the other side of her desk.

"Yes, Captain Merrill called ahead." She leaned back in her office chair, steepling her fingers and resting her lips against her fingertips. Not the most professional of postures, but she was busy weighing alternatives and parsing very old secondhand memories. "Tobias Cross...that's a name I've not heard in a long time. Captain Merrill mentioned you're looking for answers. Something about...a ring, I believe? May I see it?" She kept her hands where they were, her eyes flicking down at the desktop to show him where to put the item in question.
 
[member="Selka Ventus"]

"How do you know my.."

His words trailed off, confused as to why in the hell a CEO would even know he existed. That strange tingling sensation went up his spine, and the hairs on the back of his neck went up. Everything about him screamed comfort, conformity, and a very spartan style. Clean edges and smooth contoured dared to relax him, but everything felt so wrong. Being treated like a stain on the brand new carpet wasn't something new to him, this was just a fact of life. Every inspection he had endured from the nobles who could come to see who would get charity, he had felt eyes on him like he did now. In the military, he had felt his commanding officers look at him in the very same manner. It never mattered if his mission was successful, or if it was a failure. Her posture wasn't threatening in any way possible, she even looked frustrated. Anything could have led to how she was feeling, and he had a good enough head on his young shoulders to understand that. All these possibilities kept running as he reach up to his neck, fumbling nervously with the necklace.

She viewed him as a mistake, and she wasn't happy.

"H-here it is." Again, there was nothing in the room to make him feel like he should be on edge, but her eyes on him gave him the chills. Unsnapping his dog tags, he pulled the ring off. It's cool surface comforted him, and then the fleeting feeling was gone as he set it down on the desk before him. Materials far above his pay grade had been used in it's construction, and he became much more aware of how downtrodden he looked across the desk from the women before him. There was a comment there, but he said nothing after placing the ring down before her. A chair was there for him, but he wouldn't sit unless told to.

No need to stain the carpet further with his presence.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Tobias Wraith"] would, perhaps, have been surprised to learn that Anthirri Selka'ama Ventus had been born and raised on Metellos; that her youth had hinged on begging and avoiding prostitution by the skin of her teeth; that she had washed out of the Jedi Order, then the AgriCorps, for lack of Force strength; and that her first serious job had come from riding the coattails of more successful members of the Vagrant Fleet. Her ascension to executive hadn't even been hers: her identity and likeness had been adopted by Je'gan Olra'en, and it was Olra'en and Aleidis Ijet/'Aldiel D'Lessio' to whom the Merrills had entrusted Silk. When she'd awoken from her coma, gifted with most of Olra'en's memories as 'her', as well as some decidedly nonhumanoid others...

The learning curve had been immense. She'd resigned as CEO not long after, and taken a seat on the board of directors. A quiet seat, suited to someone who was keenly aware of her limitations.

She reached out and touched the ring with the Force, without moving. The Knife of Kalara would mask the Dark Side in her, and her telekinesis was weak enough that masking wasn't necessary anyway. The ring wobbled above her hand as she squinted at the inscriptions.

"I see. Well, Mister Cross, what do you want to know?"
 
Her little display with the ring, well that definitely got his attention. What had took serious concentration from him in Jorus’ office seemed effortless to him. It also caught him off guard, and the sharp rush of air he inhaled at her little display would let her know his discomfort. Force users were something he still wasn't comfortable with. Even after meeting a few good ones recently on a few of his less than reputable missions, it still made him uneasy. Too many years of seeing good men tortured, and the horrors of that power had made him uneasy around any display of it. Compounding the matter was the fact that he apparently had that ability, and it wasn't supposed to be that easy for anyone without training.

Apparently he wasn't just some kid left at an orphanage.

Conflicting emotions were raging in him at what she said, and his face contorted slightly at the ease with which she said that. “What do I want to know? You say this like it’s nothing, how do you know about my life?” The question just slipped off his tongue, but he couldn't help show a bit of frustration as he finally allowed himself to sit down before her. Every muscle in his body tensed as nerves started to flutter to the surface. Dread and excitement filled him with equal parts, and it was only after a few seconds he was holding his breath.

Breath Toby, breath.

“What do those names on that ring have to do with me, and why do I not have a birth record? Who am I?”

[member="Selka Ventus"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

Carefully, she levitated the ring onto the desk again. It trembled all the way. She could conjure a Force push or grip if necessary, but when it came to sustained fine-point control, in many ways she was still an AgriCorps washout. "Your name is Tobias Wraith," she said, pushing aside the amusing but unnecessarily complicated possibilities of giving him the wrong last name. Your name is Tobias Olra'en. Ashin Varanin is your niece. Let's not. "You're the son of Darron Wraith, the Jedi duelist and Grandmaster who was killed on live HoloNet a few years back. You're also the son of a woman named Maria Smoak, who dropped off the face of the galaxy decades ago.

"You were placed for adoption by one of Wraith's best friends, Je'gan Olra'en, who I suspect had Wraith frozen in carbonite for a few decades -- kept in storage, you could say, for the modern era. I suspect Olra'en meant you as an insurance policy, a potential ally if things didn't go as he expected. A man of plans and plots, Olra'en. Sometimes they even worked.

"As to how I know all this, or how much of it I can prove, I'm afraid I'm not in a position to tell you that, and I'm sorry but I can't tell you why. These aren't matters that concern me; you might say they're complications I inherited.

"Tell me, Mr. Wraith. What will you do now?"
 
“Your name is Tobias Wraith.”

She said it so casually, as if it was nothing at all. Those words, so softly spoken hit him like a knife straight to his chest, or better yet a blaster bolt to his heart. Information was the one thing he had never had, and she had just thrown it in his face like they were easy facts to know. “My parents, they were Jedi Masters?” He had seen the Maria Smoak name a few times in relation to Darron Wraith and Rolf Sergeo. They were lovers, and they were Jedi? A question burned in the back of his brain, and a crushing pain gripped his heart as his stomach went into knots. Whatever peripheral vision he had began to blur, white hot tears were starting to form. The edges of his mouth to began to quiver, and he wiped his eyes briefly before grabbing the ring and looking at it.

Those names weren’t just strangers, they had been people who were supposed to be involved in his life.

“So, I was an insurance policy? Why didn’t my parents raise me, and why am I so young if I was born decades ago?” Questions started to pour from his mouth, and he couldn’t control the flow of them.

“Do I have the ability to be like them, to be Jedi?”


[member="Selka Ventus"]
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
[member="Tobias Wraith"]

"Darron Wraith was a Master, and I believe your mother was a Jedi as well, yes. I'm not sure whether she was a Master or not. As to your age discrepancy...the files were incomplete, so I can only assume that Olra'en froze you as well. You wouldn't have a memory of it; he was a mentalist. Frankly, I suspect that would give you an answer for any gaps in your memory before the age of maybe six or seven. As for why your parents didn't raise you, that entire portion was redacted. I don't have an answer for you."

She thought, with interest and a little amusement, of the masked surgical patient who'd been here not long ago, the one with the long blonde hair and the lobotomy. "Perhaps the Force will be more generous to you than it was to me; perhaps someday you'll find that answers still exist. As for becoming a Jedi, Captain Merrill would be the one to ask. He's affiliated with the Jedi Academy, I believe, and served on the Jedi Council once upon a time -- not long after Wraith and Olra'en were Grandmasters. He would have ways to test your potential." She hesitated, then shrugged. "You'll find, though, and I think Captain Merrill will confirm, that the Jedi Order is seriously fragmented. At least three schisms in the past decade. Becoming a Jedi, growing as a Jedi -- those aren't possible without a serious dose of politics and an unfavorable gamble. You never know what cause you'll be asked to back, or what quality of teacher you'll be assigned. Force knows I'd never recommend joining the Sith, but there are other paths available."
 

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