The Question of Morality [solo]

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: ONBOARD THE WHALEBONE, ORBITING NAR SHADDAA
EQUIPMENT: IN BIO
CURRENT MOOD: PENSIVE

Open space was the perfect place to think. The idea of floating around an endless black, a speck of life in the expanses of nothing, is enough to give the proudest pause. Gigantic balls of ever-burning gas spiraled in the dark, beacons of hope and life. Of course, the galaxy had it's share of perils, but stepping back from the action, it was quite the sight.

A lone cargo ship drifted in the murk, dark against the landscape of Nar Shaddaa behind it. The planet was lit by fluorescent artificial light. The planet itself was selfish, seemingly all of its inhabitants were out for only themselves. Ghorua could identify with that.

The massive Herglic leaned back on his seat, one big, black hand pressed against his face. In the confines of space was the one time he had the chance to be honest with himself. Everywhere else, he put on a mask. To all of his allies, he was a jovial, young soul in a strong body. To his enemies, a brutal beast. Ghorua didn't even know what he was anymore. Perhaps a bit of both.

Ghorua the Shark had just completed a bounty. He had blown up a gang hideout in a blaze of glory, and had gotten a pretty penny in the process. If the experience had ended there, Ghorua wouldn't be contemplating his place in the galaxy right now. His clients had neglected to inform him that a homeless shelter had been in place behind the building. Too many innocents died.

The Shark's features were hard. Ebony skin pulled taut over a round face, lips thin with strain. His eyes were pitch-black, but held glimmers of sadness. One opalescent tear snaked it's way down his face. Elsewhere, Ghorua would've wiped it away, tried to hide his sympathy. But he let it remain, a reminder of his carelessness.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua let the tears fall silently, quietly contemplating. This wasn't his only problem. His mental issues were getting worse and worse. First it was that duel with the Zabrak Sith, then the street brawl... The Blood Frenzy was getting worse.

The genetically-modified Herglic had tried everything: Meditation, 'letting it out', trying to ignore it... Nothing worked. Ghorua's rage was unquellable. He'd killed plenty of people before he started blowing up innocents, or letting his anger get the best of him, but those felt different. They deserved to die. But those homeless? They didn't. And whenever Ghorua went into a frenzied rage, he felt violated. Like his own body had betrayed him, left his brain in the dust.

When he first was genetically modified, Ghorua was happy. He could crush concrete with his bare hands, and bite through just about anything. It was ignorant bliss. Who could've guessed it would have repurcussions?

With a sigh, Ghorua wiped the water from his eyes, and started punching coordinates into the console. Absentmindedly, he began to talk to himself. "What's wrong with me? I'm the Shark! Terror of criminal scum everywhere. I know I've done some bad things, but..." With the bending of light around the craft, Ghorua flew into hyperspace. He was going home.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Courscant hadn't been Ghorua's place of residence for some time, but he'd always consider it his home. He'd grown up in the Courscanti underworld, the only child of a crime boss. His parents were good people, deep down. Sure, they were greedy, cruel, disgusting sons of banthas, but they were kind to those they cared for. And they did care for Ghorua.

He hadn't seen them since they'd gone to jail, and Ghorua couldn't wait any longer. He needed to see them. He'd made a vow to them, a vow he wasn't doing a very good job keeping. He needed to break them out, but he needed a reliable team, and he needed a plan, neither of which he had come up with. Maybe in the future. Until then, he just needed advise from the old man.

The Herglic brought his ship down in a port, and stood from the console. He brought only his vibroknife with him, concealed in one giant boot. With a strained sigh, he exited the ship, and walked for the Courscant Penitentiary.

The building was tall, but not as tall as the gigantic durasteel wall around it. The entire area was lit by watchtowers on the wall, leaving no shadows in the vicinity. Ghorua was asked to leave his knife outside, and he complied. He was escorted in by a contingent of Sith Trooper guards, each one wary of the large Herglic. They had the right to; he was quite imposing. Finally, he was brought into a white, stainless room, the flickering red light of a ray shield it's only source of illumination. And on the other side of that shield... Ghorua's father.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Dorc Balin was a monster of a Herglic. Before Ghorua had gotten his genetic 'upgrades', he rested at 8'9''. Dorc was a full two inches taller than that, and his personality was just as large. He wore a bright orange jumpsuit, sleeves torn off, revealing his dusky grey skin, and bulging muscles. His face was round and rugged, crow's feet gracing the corners of his black eyes. But, if there was one thing that was shared in the two Herglic's features, it was their smile.

Dorc Balin's grin was just as big as the rest of him, wide and mischevious, as if he'd just had the best day of his life and refused to tell anyone about it. But his eyes held a deeper sadness, so deep in fact that a casual observer might miss it, and a more observant person would constantly be confused as to his true emotions. Ghorua had gotten that look from him, the same layered expression.

The second his father saw him, Dorc stood, in a stunned silence. This was the first time they had seen each other in a long time. Ghorua walked forward, under careful watch from the prison guard. "Hey, Dad. Uh..."

Dorc walked forward, a slow smile creeping up onto his face. "Fish-Lips. My boy..." Ghorua's father pushed himself up against the barrier, drinking in the sight of his son. "I've missed you so much... Your mother and I, we've been so worried about our little Fish-Lips."

Ghorua cultivated his own smile, a mirror of the one behind the ray shield, besides the rows of serrated teeth. "Dad! I'm thirty. Don't you think that nickname's worn itself out after all these years."

Dorc seemed to smile even wider, a spark of life illuminating his features. "Some things never grow old, kiddo. Speaking of growing, since when have you been taller than your old man?" Dorc looked his son up and down appraisingly.

"I've, ah, been through a lot. Which is why I came to talk, actually." Ghorua kept his smile up, but his eyes betrayed his inner emotions. He looked scared, beaten, bruised, and everywhere in between. Dorc seemed to catch on to this immediately., his own black eyes matching the emotions.

"Well, I may be a jailbird now, but I'm still a father. Lay it on me, Ghor." Dorc sat back down, and gestured with his hands. The Shark took a deep breath.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua exhaled as he spoke, a soft hauum escaping his blowhole. "Well, Dad, things have been going to kark for me lately. I've done some bad things... On accident. Things that even you wouldn't do. And, ah..." His smile brightened again. "That's saying something."

"Ghorua. Do you remember your first speeder I bought you?" Dorc stood up, a full foot and a half under his child.

"Yeah. Good Ol' Blue. What of it?"

"Remember when we crashed it that one time?"

Ghorua grinned genuinely. One of his fondest memories from his teen years. "Of course. We got blindsided by a ship. We almost died, but that was quite the ride. You said..."

Dorc finished the sentence. "...That there was nothing we could've done. Speeder crashes like that, they're out of our hands." He looked knowingly into Ghorua's eyes.

"What're you getting at, Father? My life is one big speeder crash?"

"Haha, kind of. I have no idea what you've gone through since I've been in here, but I'm guessing it's a lot, considering your new, eh... Muscle mass. Whatever accidents you've had, I'm sure they were out of your hands. Heck, most of the galaxy is out of our hands. We just have to take what we can, son. Don't sweat what you can't control."

Ghorua's lips pursed. That was what he'd wanted to hear from his father, but it felt empty. He wanted control over his guilt, not to push it away and forget about it. "What about the bad stuff we do mean to do?"

Dorc frowned. "Good and bad... They are so fluid. My good could be your bad, and vice versa. But you knew that as a kid. You aren't going soft on me in my absence, Ghorua, are you?"

This was one thing his father had drilled into him. There was no such thing as good and bad, only what benefited you, and what didn't. Ghorua wasn't so sure he believed that anymore. He put on a casual smile, nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

They spent a few minutes catching up, swapping stories of their new worlds. Ghorua told his father of the Bounty Hunting business, and Dorc relayed his life in jail. Even in the slammer, he had connections. The older Herglic had the best room, plenty of holobooks, and even food smuggled from the outside. The crimelord habit dies slow, it seemed.

Eventually, the guards came to escort Ghorua out. Before he exited the room, Ghorua turned back. His eyes held a glimmer of hope. He would get his mother and father out of jail, legally or otherwise. Just not today. "I'll be back for ya, Dorc Balin."

"You'd better be, Ghorua Balin." The middle-aged Herglic pressed his hand against the barrier, as Ghorua was escorted outside, with less solace than he had wanted.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

"I tell ya! The best merch in the galaxy, right here!"
"Step right up, get your very own blaster, almost free!"
"Eh, wanna lightsaber? It's the real thing, I swear."

Ghorua the Shark pushed through crowds of merchants, each one proclaiming it had the best and greatest of whatever they were selling. You'd think the One Sith occupation on the planet would ward away the merchants, but no such luck. It seemed the demand for protection had lead them like moths to a flame. And for good reason. The underbelly of Courscant had never been a good place to live, but Ghorua had grown up in it's squalor.

The street was dirty, dilapidated stalls lining each side. Bright neon signs advertising bars and clubs were the only reliable light source. Ghorua walked along, eyes straight ahead to avoid the gaze of the ravenous street vendors. The small crowd that had gathered in the area passed around him, giving Ghorua a wide berth. The Courscanti people knew to stay away from trouble. Well, most Courscanti people.

"Hey! Thief!" A Devaronian dressed in lavish silk robes ran into the middle of the street, after a small boy. The little human held a small metal object tightly in his fist, quickly dodging around the crowd in Ghorua's direction. The boy ran into Ghorua's leg, and fell down, looking up in absolute terror. Ghorua contemplated the boy, and noticed a small band of children looking on in horror. Ah, I see. Ghorua grabbed the boy, and hefted him up high into the air. The kid was obviously beyond scared.

"Let me go! You big chithead!" Ghorua smiled. Courscant also taught one how to cuss like a smuggler. The Devaronian caught up, and looked Ghorua up and down, who had placed the child over his shoulder.

"Hey, thank... Wait. I know you! If it isn't the Shark!" The merchant smiled, purple silk robes blowing in the stale air. Ghorua did recognize the man, after a moment of thought.

"Oh, of course! I bought parts from you once. Um... The devil in the satin, I believe you went by?" Ghorua slapped the man on the back. He remembered his one transaction with the Devaronian. He had bought a few items for his saberstaff from him.

"Yes! Please, if you ever come across any more, we can do business again."

"Alrighty, I must be off. Good day." Without another word, Ghorua began to plod towards the other children he had seen, who had ducked into a side street.

The child slung across Ghorua's shoulder began to kick and bite, doing little against the large being's tough blubber. The other children, a wild mix of species, tried to hide behind garbage cans and vents and the like. The boy was dropped, and immediately ran away to join his friends. The Shark reached behind him, and pulled a small silver box from his bag. He layed it on the ground, and walked away. If the children were brave enough, they would find Ghorua's lunch in the box, a delightful mix of fruits and veggies.

The ten-foot-tall Herglic smiled as he pushed his way through the crowd once more. A year ago, he would have ignored the incident entirely. Oh, how things have changed. Ghorua had no time to waste however. He was going to his childhood home.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

As the Shark was walking, a cacophonous siren began to wail, making all pause in their tracks. Ghorua knew that sound well, from almost ten years ago: the invasion alarm. A voice projected over the noise, insistent in nature. "Attention; Courscant is under attack. Until further notice, all air and space travel is inhibited. Please return to your homes. All citizens disobeying the curfew will be prosecuted."

Ghorua had lived under the One Sith occupation long enough to know that 'prosecuting' and 'executing' were practically the same thing. Ghorua had no home here; no hotel room, no apartment, no safe house. He was alone, on the streets of a tense Courscant.

- 30 MINUTES LATER -

A contingent of Stormtroopers marched dutifully down the street, moving to flank the Alliance members up below. From a nearby alley, deep black eyes stared daggers at them. Ghorua the Shark had resorted to hiding out behind a nightclub, now barren of patrons, until the curfew was lifted. The Herglic was surprisingly stealthy, appearing as a large shadow to the untrained eye. Ghorua prided himself in his wide range of skills. To be a successful hunter, one had to adapt to any situation. This was a situation that he hadn't expected, but he found himself fitting into his new role well.

Just then, the Shark heard a commotion coming from the nearby street. A couple of troopers had their blasters trained on a different alley, yelling out for a surrender. Ghorua faintly heard a small whimper from the alley, and realized the situation. With a small growl, the Colossus darted out of his hiding spot, almost materializing behind the two Stormtroopers. Like black lightning, Ghorua's arms wrapped themselves around their necks, and all it took was a little pressure before the two were out cold. He hadn't killed them; they were just doing what they thought was right. When they woke up, then they could evaluate in what world threatening children was okay.

The group of youngsters from before edged out of the alley, cautious. The Human thief from before saw the Herglic, and a few emotions flashed over his small face. First recognition, then relief, which melted into a pseudo-annoyance. "We didn't need your help, fatso. I was handling it!"

"Yeah, yeah, kid." Ghorua smiled and shook his head in exasperation. "Just try to stay out of sight. I'd rather not have to save your tiny butts again."

A Rodian girl stepped out, a shy smile gracing her features. "Um, thanks. Are you homeless too?"

"Genni, what are you doing? We don't know this guy!" The boy walked up to her indignantly. The girl ignored him, digging her toe into the durasteel below her feet.

"Well, kinda. Yeah. I don't have a home on this planet, at least. I grew up here, though. Courscant's a... rough place." Ghorua went down on one knee, still towering over the children. He turned to the boy. "If you don't mind, perhaps you'd like a little help watching over your friends here. I could be a... big help." Ghorua gave them a big smile.

The boy debated internally for a hot second, and seemed to finally decide on something. "The name's Hoodie. Welcome to the Undesirables."