My Only Hope

[Ayoven]

[member="Fane Magnus"]
Kark, kark, karking hell.

Ayoven, the Red Maiden, the glory of Adaran’s Ring, the most fearsome gladiator on Coruscant, was in pain. A lot of pain. Her head was swimming, her body was aching. She could barely form a thought as a kaleidoscope of images flew across her vision. A spaceport, a ticket gate, a shadowy figure. A burst of pain on the back of her skull. Then nothing. She couldn’t remember anything after that.

Kark, kark, karking hell.

Fighting back bile and what she hoped to high heaven wasn’t blood, Ayoven struggled to pick herself up off what felt like a durasteel floor. A quick check of her various bodily structures revealed what was quite possibly several cracked ribs, as well as numerous bangs and bruises. She felt dried blood matting the red hair on the back of her head, and as she shifted to try and take some pain off her ribcage she was nearly floored again by another wave of nausea. Someone, or something, had thoroughly worked her over.

“Oh look, the ***** is awake,” rumbled a gravelly voice. Ayoven sought out the source through her blurred vision and saw a scarred and lined face behind a set of durasteel bars. She looked around, her vision clearing, and saw that the bars extended all around her. She was in a cage. She turned back to the face and struggled to get to her knees.

“Who the hell are you?” she asked, “What the hell is going on?” The gravelly voice laughed.

“I’m sure you’d recognize me under different circumstances,” it replied, “I am Jerek Tanos, most people call me the Reaver.” Ayoven’s eyes widened. That’s who had attacked her? The sleemo whose ass she’d kicked six ways from Sunday the last time she stepped in the ring?

“I knew you were a loser,” she sneered, trying to keep a brave face despite the pain racking her body, “I didn’t know you were a sore loser.” Jerek growled and slammed a meaty fist into the bars of the cage.

“You ruined me Red Maiden!” he roared, “I was undefeated! I had never lost a battle in my life! I was the Butcher of Ord Mantell! Then you came along and ruined it all. Now you have to pay.” Ayoven scoffed.

“Grow a pair and get over it,” she replied. Jerek looked like he wanted to reach through the bars and strangle her. Instead he took a deep breath and stepped back.

“I have a better idea,” he said too softly, “I sell that pretty little face to the Hutts and make a tidy profit, while you spend the rest of your life paying for what you did.” Then the Reaver was gone and Ayoven was feeling something she hadn’t felt in several years: real, genuine fear. For the first time since awakening, she got a good look at her surroundings. She was trapped in a metal cage, with no weapons and no armor. She didn’t even have her clothes; her shirt, skirt, and boots had been taken leaving only her underwear behind. She’d left Adaran’s bar several days ago, but she had made it clear she wasn’t coming back; he wouldn’t be looking for her. The only thing she had left was the Force, that strange power that she could supposedly access, but even though she knew she had it, she had no idea how to use it.

It had been a long time since Ayoven had felt helpless, but mercy did she feel it now.

Desperately she reached out, seeking someone, anyone, who could give her chance to get out of this mess.

|Meanwhile|
“You really think we’re going to be able to sell her?” asked the mercenary, “She has a reputation. I wouldn’t put it past her to break out in the middle of the exchange and kill the lot of us.”
“Don’t be such a coward,” replied the Reaver, “I’ve taken care of everything. She has no weapons, and those bars are solid durasteel. Besides, I have enough mercenaries here to kill a Jedi, much less a shrimpy female gladiator.”

 

[Fane Magnus]

[member="Ayoven"]


Even in the most sympathetic stories, the life of a wandering Jedi was never a glamorous one. The constant travel, danger and uncertain lodgings were enough to test even some of the more pious of the various Jedi Orders that now existed across the galaxy. There we some, however, that thrived in the freedom such a life offered. The ability to travel across the galaxy unhindered, to appear or leave at a moment’s notice guided only by the Force was considered to some to be the purest form of what a Jedi should be. Unattached, unburdened, helping those who needed it wherever they might be.


Fane was never quite sure how he felt about it all if he was honest. The life of a wanderer was all he had known since becoming a Jedi, so it wasn’t as if he could compare the various lifestyles with a critical eye. What he did know, however, was that when you were tracking down artefacts of the Force, it paid to be mobile.


Which was why he currently sat, in the corner of a dimly lit bar in the lower levels of Coruscant, awaiting his contact who he hoped had more than a wild goose chase on his latest hunt. He had pulled his worn brown cloak around himself, hood covering his head, to obscure his face and figure from any curious eyes. The weight of his lightsaber pressed lightly against his forearm under his sleeve, ready to use should the situation arise. A technique many Jedi found distasteful, but one that had saved Fane’s life on more than one occasion.


“They’re late,” Fane thought to himself, glancing towards the door of the establishment. He was hardly surprised, many of these contacts operated within the underworld of planets peddling information for credits or other treasures with no measure of loyalty other than to the highest bidder. They weren’t exactly the most reliable bunch when it came to keeping appointments, more than likely his contact was face down in some back-end street – whether drunk or dead from a run-in with a local rival. Rising from his seat, Fane sighed quietly and made his way towards the exit. This lead was a dead-end, but he had others to follow.


A weak brush at the edge of his mind caused Fane to freeze mid-step. The feeling was unmistakable, even on a planet as bustling and lively as Coruscant. Someone was reaching out through the force, weakly but clearly, with an unmistakable cry for help. Fear, worry, anger – all left traces in the call. Someone, touched with the Force, needed help.

“It could be a trap” Fane’s mind supplied quickly. It wasn’t the first time a dark Jedi or Sith had tried to lure Jedi or others in with a cry for help. He quickly dismissed the thought; this cry was too primal, too unfocused. Whomever it was had little if any, training in the usage of the Force.


No. Fane could not ignore this, he was a Jedi and anyone worth that title owed it to those in need to help across the galaxy. To give hope where others had none.
Exiting the bar, Fane turned and made his way quickly in the direction of the call. Someone had called out.
Fane Magnus would answer.

 

[Makil Bandon]

Makil meditated in his chambers in a inn in the the less desirable part of town, he felt with the force as it ebbed around him, he reached this way and that feeling all there was to be felt, then he felt something different, something out of place, a call, weak, untrained, more of a prodding of the force then a internal signal, he opened his eyes and got up and went in search of this feeling


He ended up outside a building, one where pain anguish and anger came from, he glanced about and since no one was nearby he force jumped on top and looked for a entrance, he saw a staircase that led down into the building and entered, keeping low so as not to be spotted he let the force guide him.


Tags [member="Fane Magnus"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Fane Magnus"] [member="Makil Bandon"]

|| In the Mercenary Stronghold Command Center ||

"I'll take ten thousand, no less," Jerek said firmly.

"<Such a price!>" replied the Hutt on the other end of the holocall as he tossed up a gorg and caught it in his mouth, "<You'd think I was buying a starship instead of a slave!>"

"She is worth the price, I assure you," Jerek continued, "Not only is she gorgeous, but according to my information she was trained at Miss Celine's for nearly five years." The Hutt paused for a moment, considering. Jerek grinned slightly. Though he knew little of the infamous Miss Celine's School of Dance, being from Ord Mantell himself, his criminal contacts here on Coruscant had told him that it was the best slave training center in the Core Worlds. Slaves that came out of it fully trained captured prices in the tens, twenties, and even thirties. The Hutt had obviously heard of it, and now that he knew he was getting a killer bargain, Jerek hoped he'd be more open.

"<I still question her value as a servant,>" the Hutt mused, "<I have my own contacts, Mr. Tanos, and they tell me this Red Maiden is a fearsome gladiator. What good is a dancer who refuses to dance?>" Jerek ground his teeth, trying to keep fury from his voice.

"I have done battle with this 'Red Maiden'," he replied, lying through his teeth, "She is not as fearsome as her reputation suggests. With a little persuasion, she will bow to you easily." The Hutt considered this, then finally nodded.

"<I will send a courier with the money and the collar by the end of the day,>" he said.

"A pleasure doing business with you," replied Jerek as he ended the call.

|| At the Mercenary Stronghold Entrance ||

Bored, bored, so karking bored, thought the single mercenary grunt standing guard at the entrance to Jerek's stronghold, Wish I was back inside with me mates, having a few and gettin' a good look at that redhead in the slave cages.

 

[Fane Magnus]

It didn’t take Fane long to find the source of the call, or rather its location. Observing from the corner of a nearby building, he could see a larger grey structure wedged in the lower levels of the city-planet, not too far from the bar he had been at previously. Bland enough to almost blend into the surrounding buildings, but big enough to present the implicit threat of strength of whoever resided within.

Fane could tell even without looking inside that it was likely the base of one of the many gangs or mercenary groups – the same thing really in his opinion – that ran around the underparts of the planet. Even in times of peace, these groups ran amok among those less fortunate, dealing drugs, weapons, smuggled goods – even slaves. The instability that rocked the galaxy had only made things worse, and it didn’t take a great deal of guessing to figure out what had happened or what situation the pleader had found themselves.

A lone guard stood outside the doors, their mind not on their work. Seeing his chance, Fane moved towards the compound, striding forward with purpose towards the sentry.

“I’ll need you to let me inside,” Fane said speaking firmly and what he hoped was with authority.

The guard jumped, clearly taken by surprise by the hooded figure that now stood before him. He levelled his weapon at Fane, trying to cover his surprise with a nasty sneer.
“Get lost” The guard replied, “the boss doesn’t want to see some tourist.”

Fane sighed, he didn’t have time for this but if he could avoid violence, it would be better for everyone. He let out a slow breath, reaching out with the Force

“You will let me inside,” he said

The sneer dropped from the guard's face, his expression almost becoming vacant as the words left Fane's mouth.

“I will let you inside” the guard repeated.

“You want to go home,” Fane said

“I want to go home” the guard repeated.

With that, the guard reached for a nearby panel, punching in a code that saw the door beside him slide open. His task complete the absent-face sentry moved forward into the crowd, dropping his weapon as he went.


Fane quietly slipped inside and made his way down a narrow hallway, slipping past several rooms with guards or various goods stacked inside. Not that it was partially difficult, many of the guards seemed distracted, chatting of a recent capture they planned to sell to a Hutt cartel – for a large amount of money if their gossip was to be believed.


He could still sense the location of the call, somewhere underground. He only had to make his way there, and the force seemed happy to help, guiding his along the maze of hallways and stairs to his intended location. Finally, Fane came to a door that wouldn’t open when he approached, one he guessed led to the holding area and whatever prisoner had called out to him.

Taking a close look at the panel beside the door, Fane eyed it critically. He wasn’t much for computers beyond general maintenance, but this one looked simple –

His thoughts were interrupted by a yell. Turning around, he saw several mercenaries enter the room through a side door calling out angrily and levelling their blasters at him.

“So much for the non-violent approach,” Fane thought as he pulled his lightsaber to his hand from his sleeve and ignited the blade. A yellow glow filled the room, peppered by splashes of red as the mercenaries opened fire.

 

[Makil Bandon]

Makil snuck through the building, dodging guard's, hiding from servants, and following the distress, the force was his ally in this, it clearly wanted this person to be found.

As he was going he came into what seemed like a prison control room, he ducked in and quickly hid in a corner as he saw a guard looking at multiple screen's, Makil saw something that surprised him and it seemed like the guard as well, there was a man at a door and Makil knew that's where the distress was coming from, just then the man turned and pulled out a lightsaber, just as some people started firing at him, interesting. Makil thought, he could here the blaster shots, probably just down the hall.

The guard reached for a alarm but Makil used the force to pull his chair back causing him to fall out, before the guard could get back up Makil used the force to pull a box down on the guards head causing him to fall unconscious, Makil quickly went over and found a master key, he took it and went out to see down the hall a open door where some mercenaries were shooting, Makil pulled out his lightsaber and pulled one of the men through the door and right into his lightsaber as he was running, one of the men turned to start shooting at him but Makil kept going blocking shots.

[member="Fane Magnus"] [member="Ayoven"]

 

[Ayoven]

[member="Fane Magnus"] [member="Makil Bandon"]
|| In the Control Center ||

"What the heck is going on?!" yelled Jerek.

"We're under attack, sir!" replied his security chief, "Some guy with a lightsaber got caught outside the containment center!"

Kark, the Maiden.

"Send all troops to containment!" Jerek ordered, "No one escapes, capiche!?"

|| In the Containment Center ||

Ayoven leaped to her feet when she heard the sounds of blaster fire. Her heart started racing; someone was here. Was it a rescuer? Had Adaran somehow discovered she was here? The Red Maiden clutched the bars of her cage, elation soon turning to frustration. The single guard that had been watching over her stared at the door to the hallway nervously, as it seemed the blaster fire was coming from the other side.

"Hey! Sleemo!" Ayoven yelled, unable to continue standing idly by, "If you don't let me out of here, something far worse is going to happen to you than what's on the other side of that door!" The guard turned angrily.

"Shut up!" he yelled right back, "The boys have it under control!" He then turned back to the door. Ayoven's anger grew quickly. She wanted to be out of here, she wanted to fight, she wanted to ring this moron's spindly neck. Futilely she lunged her arm through the bars. It was more for catharsis than anything else, as the man was a good two or three meters away, but anger turned quickly to shock and surprise when she felt a surge of power run through her limb. Suddenly the man went flying forward, as if an invisible force had given him a swift boot to the behind, and slammed into the control panel. Ayoven looked at her hand in awe as the door slid aside.

On the other side of the door, a man with a yellow lightsaber battled a squad of mercenaries.

"Hey you!" she cried, "You the rescue party? Let me out!"

 

[Fane Magnus]

[member="Ayoven"] [member="Makil Bandon"]

It seemed Fane had taken his attackers by surprise. The yell had been one of shock, an involuntary action as the guards had hastily aimed their weapons in his direction and opened fire taking little time to aim. Most of the hasty barrage of bolts flew harmless past, Fane, without the need to block it with his lightsaber, scoring nearby crates and walls. The few that did come into harmful range were deflected easily, some bolts being turned back on the guards hitting two in the chest and stomach –causing them to go down in yells of pain.

Fane knew his cover had been blown, if the guards yell of alarm hadn’t alerted the rest of the compound, the subsequent sounds of blaster fire would have. If he was going to rescue whoever was behind that door, he was going to have to act quickly. He could already see the guards attempting to move behind cover, aiming to fire on him from a better position.

Fane quickly reached out his free hand and pulled, calling on the force to rip several blasters away from the hands of the guards and collide with the wall beside him.

He felt the door behind him open with a small hiss. Taking advantage of the decreased fire, Fane glanced behind him, unable to see or sense any immediate threat coming from the room, though he heard a voice call out to him. Not wishing to waste any more time, Fane threw out his hand once more, this time sending the remaining guards, armed or otherwise, backwards to collide against a wall with a loud crack. With the immediate threat taken care of, Fane quickly turned and entered the holding cells.

Taking note of the guard currently lying on the floor, Fane looked at the prisoner currently standing in the cell. A young red-haired woman, slightly shorter than himself with green eyes and a youthful face that seemed only slightly worse for wear given her present situation. She seemed to be looking at him expectantly and was clearly eager to be let out of her confinement.
Not wishing to waste any more time, Fane slashed at the lock of her cell door with a flick of his wrist, burning through the durasteel with his blade. Pulling the door open with his free hand, he mentioned towards the exit.

“We have to move. Hurry.” He said, his voice didn’t betray any sense of urgency, but it was firm.

 

[Ayoven]

Fane Magnus
The man that came and offered his hand was...different. Though it had been some time since she had been told of her Force abilities, Ayoven still remembered the words of the woman that had opened her eyes. That woman had had a certain aura about her, an aura of power, confidence, and...light. This man felt the same, like a nexus of warmth and comfort. He felt, she realized, like a Jedi. Anyone could wield a lightsaber, but the knowledge that this man was a Jedi soothed Ayoven's fears.

"Right behind you," she replied when the man told her to hurry. She bolted out of the cage and took a second to rummage around the limp body of the guard she'd knocked out. Finding a collapsible baton in one of his packs, she took it and his blaster pistol to arm herself and swirled his jacket around her shoulders to reclaim some semblance of decency. At that moment, she heard the sounds of pounding feet headed for the detention center. She ducked into the hallway, shot a running mercenary right through his faceplate, and ducked back behind the door.

"You got in here," she exclaimed, "You got a plan for getting out?"

 

[Fane Magnus]

Ayoven

Fane spared his new charge a glance as she gathered what items she could. She was practical, he noted, aware and focused. That was good, her imprisonment didn’t seem to be having any negative impact on her for the moment. Once she had given the affirmative, Fane began making his way towards the exit – back the way he had come.



Hearing the incoming thunder of more guards caused him to slow his step watching as a one was felled by a well-placed blaster bolt by their former prisoner. Fane threw out his free hand before the fallen’s comrades could return fire, causing several to be launched backwards – either into other guards or a nearby wall. Shouts of confusion mingled with yells and groans of pain.



“I came in through the front door.” Fane replied “and I plan on leaving that way. That is unless you might know an alternative route?”



It wasn’t ideal, Fane noted to himself. He had planned to do this quietly, slip in and out of the building with the captors' none the wiser as he melted into the crowds of Coruscant with whoever had been trapped inside. With that option now gone, he had little choice but to fight his way back the way he had come. But that, of course, meant bodies, noise and attention. Though he was sure he was dealing with one of the many criminal groups present on the planet, he still had very little idea as to exactly who it was he was fighting and that left them both vulnerable.

 

[Ayoven]

Fane Magnus

"Guess that's as good a plan as any," Ayoven replied, "Lead the way."