"TKO" back to "The Underground" - Last Call

[Bryce Bantam]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oyG66Kew7QE​

The great conference had just concluded on Gandle Ott. It had been decided, their job was done. The good, or good enough governments of the region had been restored and the area. The Kathol region, destabilized by the Black Rose, was now back in the hands of the people. Fancy speeches and grand halls had given way to a small smoky bar on the edge of town.

Bryce lounged in the corner, guitar pick pressed between his lips, as he gently plucked a bitter sweet tune his his acoustic ax. A lot of blood, sweat, and tears had be shed to get to this point and although they had completed the task at hand, their job felt unfinished. Layla, Bryce's trusted companion, stopped over and placed her soft hand on his shoulder to note she had returned. With a gentle smile she placed a beer at his side and sat down next to him to listen for awhile.

As one looked over the bar you would soon see it was not filled with just locals but with men and women of all sizes, races, and creeds. A melting pot of sorts, many of the Underground had retreated from the grand celebrations beyond to this small refuge. While the bureaucrats and aristocrats longed for the bright lights and adulation, those of the underground did not seek glory or praise. I job well done an a cool beer was usually all the thanks that was required.

We are the underground, we always have been. It is last call before we break up into our cells, one last time to share stories, before we scattered back to the verse at large...

[member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Iron Giant"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Velus"] | [member="Dax Fyre"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

The kid in the back didn't have much to say, but he looked like he'd run a marathon the day before and hadn't quite recovered yet. One hand wrapped in bandages, he slurped a mug of lum like it was going out of style. From time to time he pulled out a stylus and sketched ship components on a napkin. There was a girl with him, pale and red-haired with eyes about three times older and wiser than her face. His hand that wasn't drawing kept playing with her hair. She whispered in his ear at one point, and ducked out of the room as he grinned. He took another long drink and leaned back in his chair, dusty old bloodstripes visible on his trouser seams.

 

[Kaili Talith]

There was a presence there that perhaps didn’t strike anyone as all that familiar. A blonde, blue-eyed young girl sitting by the bar disk with a small crowd of people that she hardly knew. On the surface she was average enough and could have passed as anyone, but underneath that flat surface she was far more. An expert in her field, a CEO and a long-standing — albeit low-key — member of an organisation she had refused to call or acknowledge as anything other than ‘The Underground.’ That was the title that she had grown up with and that was the title that they had carried when her master (or rather, her best friend as the both preferred to call one another) had brought her into the fold.

Besides, she lived around the corner these days on a planet that was off the grid but comfortable enough for only a select few associates within the Underground to be in the know of. They helped her with deliveries, guns and meds while the girl offered to have some of her more fancier creations ‘misplaced’ or ‘hijacked’ within their particular sphere of influence.

Some dedicated their lives to the cause while others like the blonde kid simply devoted as much of their time as they could without turning heads.

The group dispersed, said their byes and thank yous before the blonde turned her attention towards the surface of the bar.

In the middle of all the chaos, it was nice to just have a rest.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Battered. That was the only word for the look about Julius' eyes. He had taken a Padawan, of sorts, though he wasn't in attendance it seemed. spacers shirt and bloodstripe trousers with a lightsaber on one hit and a heavy blaster on the other. His usual grace and fluidity was scattered, and it was apparent for perhaps the first time to those who knew him that he was... Well... Getting old... Still though, a grin flickered on occasion when he saw an old associate or friend. A nod to Bryce. A genuine smile that lit his eyes for a moment when he saw Jorus, who he knew even though the face still bothered him a bit.

There were no antics. No grand speeches. Just a saunter up to the bar, and a rap on the table. There was a solemn nod.

"Whyrens. The best batch you've got, no matter the fething cost. A shot or few fingers for everyone."

As the drinks made their way around, he sat with a weary eye and sighed, watching friends and companions say their goodbyes. For a brief and shining moment, they had done the impossible. They had become heroes and figures of fireside tales in this small region. Not many of them would ever want while they were in the Kathol. When his drink was softly plinked down in front of him by a feisty looking Zeltron, he nodded once and grabbed it. There was no toast. No boast. Just waiting until everyone had theirs in front of them, and then lifting his glass high in silent salute. To friends departed too soon, of which there were too many. To risks dared and missions failed or won. To the Outback, and to the Underground.

Swiftly, he drained it, and then made his way to Jorus' seat with a bottle.

"Nine Hells man, you make me feel older than I know I look... How ya been, kid?"

[member="Kaili Talith"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Leo Vandermolen]

It'd been a long day, that was for certain.

Leo slouched in a corner booth, taking the occasional glance at the other members of the Underground who had congregated in this small sanctuary. Leo had started out as a part-time merc for the Outback, helping them out when the need arised. Well now here he was, drinking and commemorating the 'good ol' days' with his fellow comrades. Along the way he had made many good friends, [member="Dax Fyre"] had stuck around longer than most, they'd accomplished quite a lot together.

And so he sat, sipping his whisky in the back of the bar, reminiscing. One last time...

| [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Kaili Talith"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] |

 

[Jorus Merrill]

"Nine Hells man, you make me feel older than I know I look... How ya been, kid?"

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

The kid's eyes tightened, and he set his tankard down on the corner table. His gaze followed the red-haired girl, who was off debating the finer points of the shipwright's trade with a couple of Arcona.

"About the same. I've got a little mod shop out past everything. Bay Seventeen, Port Mynock, Knojur system. Decent place to rig Underground ships, make a little operating capital, set the missus up with what she needs. Got a new ship, too, after the Gypsymoth took the long fall. Maybe you saw it on the way in: old Starcrest medium freighter rigged for prospecting and refitting. Ugly sucker, but she'll turn asteroids into ship mods -- mobile mod yard, self-contained. I called her the Wretched Hive. It's all Wild Space, I'll admit -- the shop, the boat, and all -- and it's small potatoes on top of that, but it's my life." A grin. "This time around, anyway. And you? What you up to now that Corellia's well and truly uncuffed?"

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza was always a bit uncomfortable standing behind a unified force, but the Underground made sense to her. Wasn’t for everyone, and she was sure that there were parts that she didn’t like, but hell if it didn’t bring out the smuggler’s blood in her. Mandalorian aside, the Zeltron discovered that she was like her father in more ways than she had imagined.

More ways than she’d probably wanted, if she was being honest.

“Layla. Bryce.” Her words were tinged with exhaustion, concealer hiding the dark circles beneath her eyes. There was an incessant dull ache in her ribs from the fight on Kaeshana, so she was a bit hunched, movements a little more labored than usual. But she had a smile for them both, a wide grin as she placed a hand on Layla’s head and pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, her other hand squeezing Bryce’s shoulder in acknowledgment.

“Good to see you two looking well. No children yet?”

[member="Bryce Bantam"]

 

[Dax Perl]

The small bar. A fitting end to an organization like the Outback. Sitting in the small booth with [member="Leo Vandermolen"], the man knocked back the remainder of his whiskey and looked around at those around them. Some he knew well. Others, not so much. But he would be more than willing to be that they were all good people, ready to lay down their lives, again and again. They'd done their jobs. Lost people. And it was worth it. Dax had seen governments come and go, but they'd never gone willingly. The Outback, or rather the Underground, maybe not really a 'government', had come with a single goal, and now they'd go quietly into the shadows once more.

Dax could pick out a few people here and there. Mentors, comrades, friends...no...more like family. The Underground was his home. Something the Master would never forget.

One of the waitresses placed a drink before each of the men, as melancholy as the rest. Sniffing it, Dax knew instantly, it was the good stuff. [member="Julius Sedaire"], a man Dax had only vaguely known, raised his glass in salute, and Dax responded in kind. Downing that drink as well, the Rogue turned to Leo, "We had a good run, huh? Kicked some ass too."

 

[Krayzen Dratos]

It was gone; the Kathol Outback was no more. With it's demise however, a new chapter had began and Velus intended to be a part of it.

He had decided to attend a celebration, the last celebration remembering the TKO. It was no longer needed, its aim of liberating the worlds from the Black Rose' grip being accomplished. Like many, Velus had lost many comrades during the war and he intended to celebrate them.

Where many had decided to socialize with each other, Velus had gone for his preferred idea of staying alone, choosing instead to have a walk through memory lane and remember how far he had come from the streets of Nar Shaddaa. "Get me a little drink would you." he said, as he observed the celebrations that were taking place.

 

[Bryce Bantam]

Bryce had just raised his beer to toast [member="Julius Sedaire"] at the bar and was taking a swig when Joza made the "kids" comment. Spitting the brew out in shock at the brash comment Bryce looked over at Joza.

"Why [member="Joza Perl"] , you know our partnership is strictly business."

Bryce was about to go on but he was not able to keep a straight face and started laughing. Truth was it was most likely only dumb luck that had kept the two from parenthood. Taking a closer look at the ravishing Zeltron he noticed how battered she was.

"Feth girl, you look like you have gone ten rounds with a rancor. Grab a drink, and a seat. Is parenthood that rough?"

 

[Julius Sedaire]

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

"What you up to now that Corellia's well and truly uncuffed?"

The question was one he could immediately answer. To tell the truth, since the One Sith had fell and Corellia had been freed, he had struggled with it. But this was Jorus. A hero of his people, a mentor, a legend of the hyperlanes and a friend. He could trust him. Reaching to his hips he un-clipped the saber at his hip and rolled it across the table. It skittered to half-way across the table and came to a stop there between them. It wasn't his one he had made of blood-steel and other fancy bits. Simpler. Worn. Rough. It had the look and feel of ages to it, and Julius regarded it with a certain wariness and caution, as well as fondness. But once the thing stopped he no longer regarded it, and spoke to Jorus instead, the biker handle looking thing left alone.

"I have been wandering... Pondered a trip back to the monks, but they might not let me go this time. Helped Corellia set up a council to run it. Founded a Jedi Temple to restore the Green Jedi. Done some work for the Alliance. Test piloted a bit for my brothers' ship company. Took on a Padawan. Punched an Emperor, then bought him a drink. Thinking. A lot of thinking. What does a warrior do when he's won the fight? For years it's been Corellia, and her freedom and security. Turns out I'm good at freeing things, but not so good being a Grand Master or Governor. Where do I go from here, eh? Darron left before he could impart that bit of wisdom."

Ceasing his rambling, he poured a slug of whiskey and knocked it back.

"Gun running, smuggling, starting rebellions. Been doing what a Corellian does best. But it's... Not enough... I'm something different now, and what that is I'm unsure."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Julius Sedaire"]

"Sounds like you're learning what nobody ever learns except the hard way. Generals, kings, presidents, grandmasters - even Darron never really got it without it being shoved in his face. The lesson's just this: it takes a whole different skillset to run the joint than it does to get the job. Winning and ruling. Building and maintaining. Straight dichotomy."

The kid shrugged easily. "I spent half my life building things, winning things, and walking away. Got tired of that, learned how to stick around, but that's me, not you. No shame in moving on to build the next project, free the next planet, tackle the next Moff. There's a few dozen First Order worlds that could use some real friendship, if you catch my drift. There's always thing to be something else needs doing."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzrDsMimNvs​

"Not sure how much longer I can keep running from responsibility before I just get too damn old to keep ahead of it."

This time, no slug of whiskey. Just looking at the lightsaber, finger idly toying with a pair of jed-creds dangling out from his shirt. Eventually, his gaze came up and he nodded a bit as if absorbing some great thought or bit of knowledge. He took what looked like a data-drive from his shirt and slid it to Jorus, smiling a bit. It seemed like he was very much amused at whatever the gift may be. The symbols on it matched the tattoos around his wrists and neck. Aing-Tii script, if the Navigator recognized it.

"That's the full designs to my ship. A scaled down sanhedrim from the Aing-Tii monks. They helped to build it. Got some galactic standard parts too. And a watered down version of their fold-drive, as I call it. Someone better at astrogation or fold space might be able to make better use of it than me. Just... Don't go mass producing the thing.. Might be bad if say, the First Order got a hold of it... And I might have to pay attention to those chaps if they're making a more serious bid for power... You gather your moss, and I'll keep rolling. And I hope to hell one day I can settle like you have. I thought Corellia would be it..."

[member="Jorus Merrill"]

 

[Kaili Talith]

[member="Julius Sedaire"] // [member="Jorus Merrill"]​

She knew no one here. At least not on a first name basis. In a sense she was out of place for the event at hand but that was just part of the deal, wasn’t it? The Underground cell that she had been the most familiar with was one that operated out of a castle on a planet she wasn’t aware if most people even knew about at this point. It really wasn’t her business in the end.

The girl shifted her attention from the surface of the bar and watched the people around her as they all seemed to salute one another. She joined in, took a sip and put the glass down on the ground before she went back to looking at people again. From the surprised redhead and the zeltron to the popularity of the corner booths. One of which seemed to house friends who toasted each other, and the other which seemed to house Corellians, or rather that’s what Kaili led herself to believe at the sight of their bloodstripes. Kaili only knew of one other person who wore their bloodstripes with such pride, but she wasn’t here.

Duty called, that particular Corellian had to go away again.

On a galactic day dedicated to ‘love’ of all days. The mere thought made the whisky right next to her seem like it wouldn’t be such a bad companion for the evening.

Or minute.

Kaili chugged it whole. A coughing fit ensued between her gritted teeth and watering eyes, both of which dissipated as she came back to it feeling considerably more lightheaded than when the evening had started. It burned considerably more than she seemed to remember from the fundraiser ball, but the memories from that ball were all vague in general.

Working up the courage to actually meet someone new she grabbed her glass and made way towards the corner booth with the two supposed Corellians.

“Hi,” She approached Julius first with a nod, then looked at the kid he was drinking with and gave him a nod as well. “I’m uh, sorry if I interrupt anything, but I just wanted to say thank you. For the drink. It, uh-” Kaili felt air burst from her lips and nose in an involuntary chuckle. “It helps with things.”

 

[Noah Bright]

A naked man burst out from the women's washroom and quickly dashed through the crowd. Covering his shame.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through."

A half-dressed green Twi'lek quickly jumped out from the women's bathroom followed by an enraged human female. Both women spotted the naked Noah Bright making a quick retreat. Both nearly-naked women shouted for him to keep running. One even threw a shoe at him as he dodged past the bar.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Exc... Oh! Wait. Wait. Excuse me sir. Ahem. Yes, hello. Um pardon me but is that a grilled cheese sandwich!?"

The naked man quickly leaned over the patron's plate and stole his grilled cheese.

"Hey!?!"

"Mmph. Yum'fy. Tan'k you. Mmph. Kay by'h."

One hand to eat his sandwich and the other to hold his cargo steady. The naked Admiral quickly leaped for the door. Followed in a hurry not only by two scorned lovers, but also by a very hungry Rodian with no more sandwich.

"Oh. Bryce! ...Bryce!" The naked fellow shouted over the din, "...Hey man! Hey! Cheers mate! Give em' hell and thanks for all the fish! Woop woop! Cheers mate! TKO forever! Wooooo!"

Then, with a rush of running butt cheeks and another bite of his stolen grilled cheese, the strange naked Noah quickly made his exit. Slamming the door as he left. Quickly followed by two furious women. Slam. And then another. Slam. And then another hungry Rodian. Slam. Who, when the door didn't close all the way the first time. Turned about and slammed it shut again. Slam. Slam.

Two just to check. Good. Much better.

The bartender could only sigh,

"Ugh. I hate that guy."

...

Alas. And somewhere on the farthest stall located in the women's restroom it would read, in Noah's best crayon: "Cheers to all the crazies in TKO. This one's on the house. - NB"

Here's to good times.

Here's to grilled cheese.

 

[Joza Perl]

“Mhm.” She affirmed, grin stretching just a bit. Strictly business with a Zeltron? Right.

At [member="Bryce Bantam"]’s suggestion, she waved him off. Sort of. “Already waiting on Sonic Serodriver. Ivan should bring it over to me.” She motioned towards the dark haired Corellian pilot at the bar who was already slamming down his second or third shot of the evening. She couldn’t frown at his antics tonight. The pair were both banged up and bruised from the events of Kaeshana, stress and worry lines on their faces from dealing with the aftermath. She had to smile though, at the vague mention of her son as she took a seat next to Bryce. Her eyes wandered over the others in the bar, some she recognized, some she did not. While she’d never met [member="Julius Sedaire"], he was vaguely familiar if only for that story of him punching out an Emperor at some Alliance event. The recollection caused the corners of her lips to tilt upwards in a smirk.

“Oh, you know, it’s—“

Her response was interrupted as a whooping, naked man streaked past them, ducking, dodging and stealing sandwiches while being chased by two very angry women. She watched in silence, a bit wide eyes as [member="Noah Bright"] called out to Bryce before making a pasty, and what she assumed to be painful exit.

She couldn’t help the grin now, head tilting back as she laughed shortly. “Looks like you’ve got another admirer, Bryce.” She teased, shaking her head at the naked man’s antics. “To answer your question though, yes. Almost as much as the Sith.” She fished a small device from her pocket, activating a holopic of her son. Peachy skin, red hair, grey eyes. A mix of mom and absentee dad. “Alan. He’s almost a year old. Work keeps me away more than I’d like, though.”

 

[Bryce Bantam]

The Admiral grand entrance and exit was followed by Felicity entering the bar distracted Bryce for a second from the foolishness that had just transpired. As the two made eye contact she nodded happily at him before beginning to walk over.

"Well I may have a way to help that." Bryce said before pausing to wait for his assistant to finish walking over.

With a smile Felicity handed [member="Joza Perl"] a data pad as well as a official looking piece of parchment before taking a seat next you Bryce.

"I know it is a bit old fashion but we give those out to every new ship owner. I know you have been through a lot also Joza so me and the girls decided it would be nice to give you something to say thanks and all. What your holding in your hand is the deed to Gallofree's first 205 luxury yacht. Once they were done testing the prototype and all I had it re-worked to the way I think you will like. Two fully stocked clubs, a fusion restaurant, 300 decks of luxury cabins and I tricked out the master for you and the little one. Call her "The Party Foul" and she is all yours."

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Kaili Talith"]

Across the bar, a naked man bolted out of the 'fresher, pursued by a pair of outraged women. The kid's eyebrows rose fractionally as he tracked the party's progress out of the facility. As the door closed behind them, he picked up the datacard that Julius had laid down. The Aing-Tii were about as psychologically alien as one could get. Time with them had screwed up Sedaire's head for a while, and that strange ship of his had been on the kid's radar ever since. He slipped the datacard into a well-worn pocket; the corner of it almost poked out by one of the faded lower-grade bloodstripes.

He didn't comment on it, not with the tipsy blonde coming up to join them. He knew who she was, of course, but he doubted she'd seen his new face. Heard about it, though, no doubt there; her best friend hadn't been pleased by the strange rejuvenation her parents had found deep in Wild Space. So Kaili might or might not have a frame of reference for what he was going to say now.

"What you doing buying drinks for a Talith, Julius?" The kid leaned back in his chair again and laced his fingers over his stomach, wishing he had another lum. His focus shifted to Kaili. "How's your mother?"

Among the splintered Jedi Order, Missus [member="Kira Talith"] was one of the few that he considered a peer so far as experience and judgment went. She'd done her share of good over the decades. They'd never been close, but they'd wrestled the same challenges, the same administrations.

 

[Leo Vandermolen]

"That we did bud, that we did..." Leo responded to Dax. Their reminiscing was cut short by the appearance of a naked officer, darting about the bar. Leo couldn't help himself, he let out a chuckle and lost some precious whiskey in the process. The bar was full of recluse merriment, sadness hidden behind a thin veil of grins and small talk. Leo also wielded one of these grins, he had finally found something good to fight for, something just. And now it was coming to an end... He raised his glass in the air, "Anyone care for a toast?" he called out to the rest of the bar with a smile, straightening up just a little bit more.

| [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Kaili Talith"] |

 

[Julius Sedaire]

[member="Kaili Talith"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]

"Anyone in the bar got one. Wasn't exactly bein stingy. Should she not have gotten one? Her mother can talk it over with me I suppose."

A slow, easy grin even past the scruff that graced his cheeks as he smiled. This was something he could fit into, this association. Even on Corellia, in the Core, he just didn't fit in it seemed. Too long on the raggedy edge staring into the black. Eventually, such things caught up to a man and he found that the wide, cold expanse of eternity stared back into him. Darron and Keira had helped him back from the brink. Maybe Jorus and these others could help him stand again. Sometimes, you saved something but it was for others and not yourself. He had tried to tell Keira that once, but the Mandalorian in her just wouldn't accept it. Reaching out, he drew the lightsaber back to himself and gazed on it for a long moment before sliding the thing back into his breast-pocket and gazing at Kaili.

"You are welcome kid. Take a seat, and maybe ease and slow back on the whiskey. Seems like you aren't exactly a hardened veteran of such things."

Signaling, he ordered two Corellian ales and a 'lum for Jorus, nodding.

"Glad to meet you miss, I'm Julius, you ain't interruptin much but two old men jawin.... And you are?"