Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Godfather [Jorus]

@[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

The Warden met his old friend's gaze.

"In subjective time, bro, I'm pretty sure you've been alive fewer years than me. I wouldn't say that makes you younger than me, not by a long shot, but these days I feel like you're dangling over cliffs for the heck of it. Get your crap together, and I'll make sure I find you a nice shoulder to cry on. Yes. I want to hear your life. I'll even take your drama, 'cause you've taken mine."
 
"I stopped dangling over cliffs for the hell of it a long time ago. But, no crying, not today." Scratching at his beard in thought, he nods once. Slowly but surely, Sarge tells Jorus everything, from waking up on Mon Calamari with no recollection of how he'd gotten there, to just recently hallucinating that someone was Angel (he left out Linna).

Jorus got it all. The murder. The deceit. The manipulation of galactic politics. All was told, although the identities of those still alive were changed - except for Thessa. He told Jorus all about his talk with Thessa, and how the decision was one he was still grappling with.

It was a story far longer than Jorus had probably anticipated.
 
Five or perhaps ten seconds after Sarge stopped talking, the hyperspace alarm spared Jorus from having to respond. He brought Gypsymoth out of hyperspace, and the flying brick of a YV-929 homed in on a solar system.

"I'm reading a lot of smallish sensor contacts. Erratic, too, so not natural. Ten meters to a hundred, or thereabouts. There's a planet on the other side of the system primary."

As the freighter circumnavigated the sun, a world hove into view.

"Sensors aren't picking up civilization. Well, not technological civilization. There's not a lot of life down there, either.

"So your boss man...what, exactly, is the deal there? Ayden told me, back in that cantina, that he'd personally sent you on every mission. Or at least, that's what I took from it. But if your missions go back that far, how far back does he go? And how?"
 
Sarge's hands, as they always did when he dropped into an unknown system, went to the weapons controls. Brow furrowing as they worked their way across the console, he raises a slow brow and responds without looking at Jorus.

"Classified. You'll know when you need to know. I told you I'd tell you my story... not his; interwoven though they may be." Sarge was a private man, to even get his own story out of him was a windfall that would be enough to make just about any information broker wet themselves with excitement.
 
"That's fair. Gotta be his friend same as mine."

Nothing hailed them; nothing attacked them. Some of those erratic sensor contacts moved in reaction, but Jorus never got a naked-eye glimpse of what were probably Duinuogwuin.

Gypsymoth settled down among the scales and skeletons of dragons.

"I'm reading one very, very big, very weak life sign just over that rise. At a guess, we're about to meet a dying Duinuogwuin. Suddenly this whole thing seems disrespecful."
 
"No shit, Sherlock? What was your first clue?" He wasn't angry, just being sarcastic. I mean, you don't show up to a funeral to snort lines of spice off the dead person, so why show up at a hidden graveyard to ask questions of something close to death who, likely, doesn't want to talk to you.

Ever.

Regardless, they were here now and Sarge had the spice, so it was time to do li- ah, who am I kidding. They aren't going to do lines of anything. "Well, let's set her down and go have a look. I don't want to ruin his death by having a ship fly over."
 
"Leave 'er. And yeah, it did come out wrong. Or did it come out right?" Shaking his head, he stood and wrapped himself up out of habit. He'd already run an atmosphere check and found it to be OK, so he walked down the ramp and towards the rise.

"This is going to be awkward.", he murmurs, leaving no footprints in the dust that coated the surface.
 
"I guess...well, there's the pit droid, and I gave it some nanny programming, so..." He grimaced. "Guess it better be enough. Not like there's much alive around here. Atmosphere reads as normal, toxiscan clear. See ya, kid."

Mara Merrill squirmed in her sleep, and Jorus set the pit droid beside her crib.

"Gonna leave the shotgun, too. Glad I've got you for the backup in that cape of yours."

He headed down the ship's ramp and locked it up tight, setting the autoblasters to alarm mode -- lowest alarm. Only fire if ship attacked. Etc.

Dragon scales crunched underfoot as he walked through the rib cage of a creature the size of a corvette.

"Should be about half a klick this way."
 
"I'm the best backup, obviously." Sarge quips with a hint of a smirk to his voice. The place set him on edge, that was for sure, if only because the bones were so... massive. Perhaps Jorus wasn't so full of shit after all. "Lead the way, Jorus. I'm not sure I like the looks of this place. Especially if there are guardians or something."
 
"Bro, they're corvette-sized dragons who can jump to hyperspace with the Force. I seriously doubt they need guardians."

A formation of winged figures flew high overhead. Said formation began to circle. Watchfully.

"On the other hand...but, well, I'm unarmed and I haven't taken anything. So..."

He shrugged and plodded on.

"Welp, they don't appear to be dive-bombing me. Which is nice. No sniping unless sniped upon."
 
"When you're covered in acidic dragon-shit and your skin is melting from your bones, let me know that they're still not dive bombing you, yeah?" Another five or six minutes more and they were, hopefully, just about right atop the dying... whatever the word was for 'Space Dragon'.
 
Duinuogwuin. The word was Duinuogwuin.

"Poodoo. That word suits you. You should use it more often."

Five minutes later put them right in front of a dragon the size of a Corellian Gunship.

"I feel you there, little one, little friend." The voice was immense, well-modulated, its Basic polished. Huge blind eyes blinked at Jorus. "Are you come to give old Gariss Kei a final farewell on behalf of the universe?

"My name's Jorus Merrill; I'm a Warden of the Sky."

"A Warden? Indeed." The battle-tank-sized head turned up, as if scrutinizing the formation of Duinuogwuin overhead. "My sisters and brothers sensed a spark in you, friend Warden. If you are here, you know why this world exists, what purpose it serves. You know I am meditating away my last days. There are many who would consider your presence an affront, an imposition on a private moment."
 
The blind dragon's head tilted, just slightly. "The wind whispers, friend Warden. Does it say anything of meaning? I've spent my life listening to the winds and currents of dust and light. Solar wind is a beautiful thing."

"Did you ever see the Flamewind of Oseon?" said Jorus, sitting down with his back against a rib.

"Is this why you've come, Warden? To sing me to sleep with a tale?"

"I can tell you a story."

"But that isn't why you've come."

"I came here because you're the only way to know how to know where to go. Instinctive astrogation, they call it. I'm a terrible Warden, and I can only do that one thing. And I need to know how to do it on purpose."

"Then tell me about this Flamewind of Oseon, friend Warden."

And the story began.
 
Sarge reached up and pulled down his hood, smiling up at the massive beast. "No wind here, old soul. Just a weary man and a companion looking for answers." His voice was quiet, reverent - this was holy ground they were disturbing. Visitors weren't normally welcome, but respect was certainly in order.

Everyone's last moments should be as peaceful as possible.
 
"Honesty, friends," said the blind dragon. "I approve of this thing. Continue your story, friend Warden."

And so Jorus told him everything. He and Chloe had crewed a starliner through the Flamewind of Oseon, not too long before Mara's birth. Waves of glowing particles sweeping through asteroid cities -- tourists from a thousand worlds -- the biggest nonlethal light show in the universe. He had traded stories with Chloe for years; he had picked up a storytelling trick or two.

The dragon was happy.

"If I was not blind, friend Warden, I would make one final trip, just to see that. And I would take you with me, so you could learn a portion of what you seek."

A thoroughly audacious idea occurred to Jorus. "Then let me be your eyes. Don't tell me you can do what you do and not be able to see through my eyes, if I allow it, if I help you."

The gigantic dragon stirred. "That's a cruel offer. One more taste of sight and I might want to live."
 
"Trust you with Gypsymoth and Mara, bro? That's sixty-seven percent of everything I love in this universe. Absolutely. Oh, and I should get a space suit."

Half an hour later, after returning to the ship, cuddling a drowsy Mara for a moment, and procuring a space suit, Jorus stood at the ramp of the YV-929 as the ancient dragon floated overhead.

"I'll see you at Oseon, bro, if all goes well. Bit of a risk...but I gotta do this. Or I'll just never get anywhere."
 

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