Private Shiraya’s Odyssey: When the Clock Strikes One

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Coruscant / Underworld / Night
​

Death was so final. One day they were. They next day they weren’t. There was no do overs. There was no time for goodbyes. There was no time for speaking ones mind to the one that had so wronged you. There was no reconciliation. There was no more embrace. There was no more family. Death meant hollow minds bent to the only thing there was time for…revenge.

Talizr Makkie had not wanted to give Brandyn the intel that the grieving Jedi had requested. Despite only being a partially trained Force adept in the Jedi Corps, Talizr had known enough about human nature to know that Brandyn did not need to be on mission. After all, Talizr heard that both of the Jedi’s parents had been killed by the same organisation that Brandyn had been investigating for years. It did not make for a settled spirit. Makkie had been convinced though. And now he wondered how he had been convinced against his better judgment to give the intel over to Sal-Soren. His argument had just been so very convincing. He felt compelled to oblige. Well, it wasn’t really an argument, more a command.

~~~~​

He was not the only Jedi on the case. Not the only Jedi seeking agents of The New Way. But he was certainly the only unsanctioned one. The fact that the Order had not pulled him in on something as serious as a bomb threat was pathetic. He deserved to be here. To stop this. It was his right. After what he had endured, saving people here was the least the Order owed him. A chance to kill…a chance to capture New Way agents was just catharsis he needed.

Aura hidden, just as he was atop a diner rooftop, Brandyn watched and counted out the Jedi Corps operatives that were staking out the diner below him. He had not yet picked out the Jedi in charge of the task force, but they were surely not far away. He would keep his head down until they made a move. For now he just observed the busy pedestrian traffic, and waited for his colleagues to signal that it was time to strike. For what it was worth, they should be glad that he was here to do what they definitely could not do.

| Skye Mertaal |​

 

[Skye Mertaal]

Coruscant / Underworld / Night
The Bent Lekku Diner

Across Brandyn Sal-Soren, on the roof of the building to the right, the shadows of pipes and air-conditioning units would hide another crouching figure. This one, however, would only curse her luck.

From behind the HUD of her helm, a crimson light would flash under the dark tee visor. One seemingly grey eye would narrow, the cybernetic patch ocular zoom in on each figure below. She didn't need to be off her Force-suppression pills to pick out exactly who they were.

Burlap brigade. Lightsaber on their hips. Superiority dripping down their spine.

Jedi.

What in the gorram hell were Jedi doing here? Mertaal exhaled a heavy breath from under her helm. Already, she could feel a headache building in between her eyes. On the exterior, she was stoic without any manner of a hint of what lay within.

Chatter had it that one of her targets had decided to pay a little visit to the Bent Lekku. Considering the strained relations between the Jedi, the laughable Galactic Alliance, and the criminal syndicates of Coruscant, Mertaal knew this was begging for trouble.

At least, they wouldn't be able to sense her. That was her blessing and her curse with the pills. It made her appear as a non-force user, and unless they were actively trying to search in her direction, odds were they would not sniff her out. Jedi never excelled at investigating anyway; she learned that the hard way more than once.

From her perch, the Red Blade lifted her right arm. A quick press of a few buttons on the gauntlet revealed a small holo screen. A small compartment slid open, revealing a miniature flying droid no larger than her thumbnail. She would use it to attempt to track her bounty down. Word had it that this wouldn't be the typical hit, but that meant the credits would be worth it. Had she kicked popping the pills years ago, perhaps she would have felt the thrum of the Force in a warning. Perhaps, in another life, she would have taken the hint.

Not this time. Likely not the next. There were too many demons in her head to allow it.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

And move they did.

Brandyn had only barely spotted the Jedi Knight leading the task force when he noted they were moving into position. Esna Folcos. He was a good Jedi. Brandyn had worked with the Rodian several times, and had considerable respect for their abilities as a negotiator. He was particularly skilled in…talking people down.

Sal-Soren refocused on the Corps operatives. One. Two. Three…three of them were snipers. Brandyn’s heart raced as he put the scenario together.

A crowded business-as-usual restaurant.

A busy pedestrian thoroughfare.

High density dwellings nearby that towered above the diner.

Snipers.

A crisis negotiator.

Curse it all.

This wasn’t a capture mission. Nor a contact mission. The Jedi present were trying to stop a catastrophe.

Curse you, Brandyn.

He needed to leave. He needed to evacuate people. But they couldn’t. Or could they.

Believing he hadn’t been spotted on the roof, Brandyn moved to the back of the roof and dropped to the alley behind the diner. If he acted quickly, maybe he could stem the tide of pedestrians walking past the diner.

Maybe.

Skye Mertaal​

 

[Skye Mertaal]

The droid's tiny hover servos gave a whir before its ocular sensor elongated, widening as it flew forward towards the diner. It silently hummed as it zipped high past the Jedi and Corps agents. It flew towards the roof, searching for an entrance.

Baek Ma ran a series of glitterstim distros from the 1200th block down to level 1313. By all accounts, a pain in the arse for the corps, but with enough credits, even the local officers were apt to look away if one or two glitterstim addicts disappeared now and then. The difference was that in the past few months, there had been a swift in power. Something was spoking the Corps enough to engage the burlap brigade to be here.

To the Hunter's credit, the noticeable shift and manner of the Jedi who appeared in charge caught Skye's attention. Narrowing her gaze, she focused on the diner's large windows. Every single one of them had been activated to be tinted dark. A frown grew in confusion. Redirecting her reconnaissance droid, she located an area with an open pipe. It was an air filtration exhaust.

Directing it to fly in, Skye quietly studied the feed, unaware that below, the truth regarding the diner was a much more severe threat than she first realized. It was a hostage situation, with eight souls presently huddling together against the diner's bar. Inside, three masked individuals in black armor held blasters in the hostages' direction. Brandyn Sal-Soren had more to worry about than just the potential of passing pedestrians.

"How much longer until they are done?" Vinnie Skar asked Morana, who was presently watching the Jedi and the Corps operatives outside through a slit in the curtains.

"Not long. " The Devonarian replied, her forked tongue flicking against her lips. It was just a matter of time.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

“You. You there. Get these barriers over this path…”

”No can do. You need a T5C3 req form filled and filed before my supe even considers asking me to do something like that. Take a hike buddy.”

Brandyn‘s nose scrunched in frustration. Looking back towards the diner, he let out a breath through flaring nostrils. He reached for the baricades.

“I said…take a hike!”

Pain shot up Brandyn’s arm as his knuckles felt the full impact of the man’s depowered stun baton. “OW!”

“Next one‘ll zap ya…now…take…a…hike.”

Brandyn snarled, but backed away while nursing his hand. The barriers were unlikely to cause any major slowing of the traffic anyways. He pushed through the pedestrian traffic and made his way towards the diner again. There had to be something. Something he could do…

And then. All his previous concerns dissipated with the shockwave that was first to hit him. Next followed fire, debris and a full eruption of the explosion that came from within the diner.

WA-BOOM

The shockwave threw Brandyn backwards. His back hit support pillar for the plaza across the way. Rubble tumbled about him, and everything went dark…

| Skye Mertaal |​

 

[Skye Mertaal]

The blast's shockwave sent the Huntress back, slamming against the air filtering unit. Metal crunched under her weight, pain lancing through her shoulder and back. Flames roared as the blast of heat, and the acrid stench of burnt flesh permeated the air.

At her gauntlet, her holographic display detailed a disconnection. She had lost her reconnaissance droid. Yet that wasn't what went through the Huntress's mind. The flames reflected the horror of what lay below over the t-visor of her helmet. She couldn't stop the jumpstart of her heartbeat or the thundering of blood in her ears: flashbacks, memories, cries of pain-- the cacophony of death.

With a grunt, she rolled onto her feet, on armored boot bracing flat before pulling herself up. She let the pain drive the adrenaline, pushing her body forward.

Below was a chaotic mass of death and destruction. There was no hit now for her to collect. All that lay there was the scattering of bodies, civilian and corps alike.

Leave.

The word shot through her mind with the icy stab of a dagger.

Leave.

Swallowing hard, her throat bobbed. She didn't even realize the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

LEAVE!

Yet she couldn't move. Could not budge. Another life. Another time. In another place, she'd be doing the exact opposite. The tick-tock of judgment's clock resonated in her head. With a snarl, she jerked the cover of her gauntlet closed. Every step that followed came with the shrill mocking cries of demons past in her ears.

It was quick work to make it down from her position. Purpose in every stride once she came to the plaza. There, closest to her, was the first victim. He'd hit a support pillar and now sprawled at an awkward angle. Unconscious for now.

Bending the knee, the Huntress reached out with her gloved hand, turning Brandyn Sal-Soren over with a steady but professional gentleness that belied the bounty hunter’s rough appearance. A lifetime of medical experience came to the fore, checking for broken bones and injuries.

Behind her, those who had survived and spectators alike were mirroring actions, checking to see who was still alive and needed aid. Who knew if that Rodian Jedi survived...

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Moments passed like hours, hours that faded into what felt like a rush of time. Every dream and hallucination he experience while out cold rushed through his mind as time restored its hold. Images of his parents, sisters, his precious Cybelle, friends long gone and those he did not recognise. Laced throughout each scene we a word echoing through it all - Doom.

His face was caked in duracrete powder when he woke. Eyes parting their grey caked lids to reveal their deep brown nature. “What…”

HIs mouth was dry, gravely. He found himself spitting out chunks of paste, a mixture of the duracrete powder and his own spittle.

He coughed. A failed attempt at sitting saw Brandyn collapse back into the rubble. It was only then that the pain started to register.

He groaned. Finally, he registered that there was someone assisting him. A woman. He didn’t recognise her. A resident responding to the disaster. It should be him assisting them. He was the Jedi.

”Help me up…I can…I can find people…”

| Skye Mertaal |​

 

[Skye Mertaal]

Brandyn Sal-Soren would feel a firm press of a gauntleted hand against his chest, intending to hold him steady while Skye continued her perusal.

[ Do not move. ] came the curt warning, the voice edged in vibrato by the Mandalorian helm the Huntress wore.

[ I need to check to see if you have any broken bones. ] she explained, sweeping hands over Brandyn's body, starting from his head, neck, then lower still. There was an indifferent but purposeful methodology in the touch that only one in the medical field would contain.

Inside her head, however, his insistent cries that he could help others and find wounded hit a nerve. A muscle along her jaw gave a twitch, and she did her best to brush the dead and the past away.

[ Are you feeling any pain anywhere? ] she asked, trying to get him to focus on her queries and less on the arid stench of burning flesh, plastimesh, and the sulfur of explosives. Behind them, the wail of agony and screams for someone to help them remove the rubble from their father painted a chaotic event.

At this distance, with Brandyn covered in duracrete powder, it was hard to distinguish him from anyone of importance. If he had a bounty on his head or was some nobleman, it meant little to Skye right now.

Unless the opportunity presented itself.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

The person before him came into focus. Mandolorian? He tried to move backwards, but pain shot up through the back of his neck. “For Shiraya’s sake,” he literally spat.

No moving. Got it.

”My back. My neck. I think I hit something…something hard…”

He lifted his arms, showed that he could rotate them, move his fingers and such, before dropping them tiredly down to his side. Revealing that he was a Jedi was probably inadvisable given the growing tensions between the Alliance and certain elements of the Mandolorian society.

“…who are you?”

Why are you here? Was left unsaid.

| Skye Mertaal |​

 

[Skye Mertaal]

One didn't earn credits if they were not keen on picking up the small details.

Shiraya. An ancient moon goddess of Naboo. Not the sort of exclamation uttered by the likes of those gutter womprats of the Coruscanti underworld or the workers from the industrial sector trying to make a living.

It had been a common saying by Caleb. One she hadn't heard in over a decade. In the guise of checking the damage to his neck, Skye took a closer inspection of Brandyn Sal-Soren's attire and if he had any weapons on him. Was he nobility? No, there wouldn't be a reason for one of those bluebloods to be here.

The mind began connecting the navpoints. Corps and Jedi. A stake out. The explosion. He'd mention he'd be able to help find people. No one desires to do so after being a victim of an explosion unless they have some gorram desire to be the hero.

What civilian bystander in this sector wants to act like the big damn hero?

That dark t-visor seemingly took stock of the man's neck injuries, confirming a sprain. There was no nerve damage since he could move his arms and fingers.

[ Your medic for now. ] Skye answered matter-of-factly, adding [ Looks like a sprain. ]

Turning to her utility belt, she withdrew a medkit, removing a pain stim., intending to give it to him. [ This is a pain stim. It should help with the pain, but you will need a bio-brace soon. ]

It wasn't five seconds later, that a second explosion went ripping through the remains of the diner, intending to send another wave of debris, flames, and duracrete powder out to the exposed civilians.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He was still processing through the daze. Half of it made sense. Half of it seemed strange distant dream. The pain stim though, quickly did its work. For the most part, pain washed away, pulling the veil of confusion from his mind. It was just in time too. The second explosion triggered just moments after his now firing Jedi senses detected the threat.

Hands shot forward, accidentally knocking his attendant to the side, and a burst of Force energy pushed back against the shockwave. The dust, debris and fire that were headed d their way hit an invisible wall. As the shockwave quickly diminished with the flame, Brandyn’s arms dropped to his side. As if synced to his arms, the rubble and dust that had stopped in the air, dropped to the ground. A small billow dust rose around their area.

Renewed screams echoed about the area. This time it was not just the victims of the first explosion, but their would be rescuers as well.

True evil.

“Are you OK?” He said, shooting the Mandalorian a glance.

”Help me…help me to my feet…”

He tried standing. Resolve only went so far. When your legs were weakened, there was only so much one could do. He closed his eyes. All around him the Force rippled with spiritual screams of those longing to hold onto life. Brandyn tapped into that energy. That desperation. The anger of the ‘why me’ and the fear of the ‘what happened’. His legs felt stronger. His mind clearer and more focused.

HIs mind turned, for a moment, towards revenge. But it was clear from the crater that once was the diner that those directly responsible were atomised and dispersed across he field of destruction.

”Help me get to those we can save. Don’t let me waste time on those that won’t make it. You may have to pull me away from the lost causes,” he said, words traversing the same path into despair as his spirit.

| Skye Mertaal |​