Where Do We Go When It All Falls Down?

[Zak Dymo]

>> G A S O L I N E <<​

THE PLANET
C O R U S C A N T
THE CORE WORLDS REGION

Was it day time? Or was it night?

This far inside the ecumenopolis, it was impossible to really know. The sky didn't exist down here. Just a labyrinthine lattice of duracrete structures that formed the foundations of the upper crust of society. Exposure to natural light was a luxury to be marketed to only those who could afford the pay-per-minute fee associated with the various sunlight bars that remained popular. To live above the clouds on this planet was stand on the necks of the planet's populace.

As it ever had been.

The young Pantoran stretched, wincing as he woke. Sitting up, the boy squinted painfully against the harsh neon light that was flooding in from the Zeltron club next door. A blue colored hand fumbled for a chronometer.

The planet only had a single timezone. It was, after all, just a single city. So that time had nothing to do with the planetary rotation. To be honest, Boo actually had no idea what the time zone was supposed to be based on. It was just the time.

And, apparently, it was time for the bars and clubs to start opening.

The bed was an old, worn mattress that he'd pulled from out of the trash in one of the nicer parts of Coruscant. Stained and torn, with some spacer's tape holding in the padding that was coming out. The mattress was shoved up in one corner of the studio apartment that was smaller than one of [member="Coci Heavenshield"]'s closets. Could he have afforded nicer? Perhaps, but he couldn't risk using an account that the Heavenshields knew about or else he'd risk Théo finding him.

Sooner or later, Coci would come.

She hid it well. She hid it better than he did, but she was like he was. A shadow. A predator. A wolf in sheep's clothing. If anyone was capable of following the boy into the dark places where no hope remained, it was Coci.

So, instead, he used the line of credit that [member="Sempra the Hutt"] had set up for the boy to use in connection with Plutonia Courier Services; the business front for the child's illegal activities as an assassin for hire, masquerading as a mercenary while spying for the Host Lord of the Primeval as a member of the Bleeding Sun. But that had been a long time ago now, and the interest on the account had barely kept pace with inflation. At best, Boo could manage a year on his own at this rate before he'd have to make a choice.

Return to being homeless. Or go back to business as usual.

Rolling from out of bed, the youth stumbled toward a mirror. Dark splotches of black and violet marked bruises that ran up and down his body. A dark spot scabbed over where his lip had been split open. A cut over his left eye was still healing. The knuckles of both hands were scratched and bleeding. He could barely even open his right hand.

Looking at himself in the mirror, the boy was confronted by a stranger. Someone that he used to know, slowing withering away across a sea of poor life choices and self-destructive decisions.

He'd been fighting since he'd arrived back on Coruscant. Introducing himself to this group that called itself The Tears through the brutal torture and execution of one of their drug czars. In the days since, Boo had managed to wage an all out assault on the street soldiers of the illicit organization as a one-kid army.

Now, pain made it difficult to move. His hands fought against the impulse to move his fingers. Each breath brought forth a feeling like that of a thousand daggers piercing his lungs. Cracking open a drug cabinet, the boy struggled to pull out a box of deathsticks.

There was irony. A crusade against the crime lords. A war on drugs, and what did he turn to to help ease the pains? Deathsticks.

Popping the cylindrical stick in his lips, the boy struck a lighter and then collapsed into a heap on the floor. As he pulled himself up, so that he was sitting with his back against the wall, a thin tendril of acrid smoke trailed from out of his mouth as he exhaled. Tears started slipping down both sides of his face even as the narcotics began to spread a warm feeling through his body.

He was comfortably numb, curled into a fetal position as he cried.

The fist connected with the side of the Pantoran's face.

The boy was lifted off his feet, sailing back in the air for a brief moment of flight that ended spectacularly as he came crashing down hard onto the pavement. His head bounced against the pavement a moment after, his vision going white as he momentarily stunned. A scream was ripped from the child's lips as pain radiated through his arm and shoulder, the youth flopping like a fish onto his back.

This was a lovely little cafe on the lower west end of Sector 359. Or, it had been anyway. Boo had gotten word that one of the Tears suppliers was going to be making a delivery to one of the many faceless drones that served as the dealers. And so it seemed like a good time to get some lunch and take out some trash.

For what it was worth, the supplier was already dead. Mission accomplished. Good jobs all around, right?

...not so much, no. Apparently Trandoshan bodyguards was the Tears new security measure. And this pair actually had some decent training.

He was seeing red.

Terentatek venom was starting to sap away his control. His pupils dilating and constricting in an animalistic fashion as something primal started to take hold. Kicking up from the ground, the boy's right arm was hanging limp, swinging as if a dead limb as the young Pantoran came up fighting.

A vibroblade dagger spun in the child's left hand. Ducking another swing of the first Trandoshan, the boy vaulted around. The vibroblade arced through the air in a hook shot that had no small amount of Force behind the throw.

The dagger found it's mark, the impact spinning the Trandoshan around. That just left the one that was now behind him. Following through with the motion of the throw, Boo spun to face the remaining body guard. Using his left palm, the boy deflected one incoming strike, before turning his palm outward and pushing outward with the Force.

The Trandoshan went down, but the other one was starting to get back on its feet.

And Boo could hear the tell-tale song of police sirens in the air.

"-tt-" the youth uttered, blood springing forth as he clicked his tongue in irritation. Amber eyes scanned for an escape route, but running from police droids with a bum arm didn't seem like it was really in the cards.

Turning around, the blue skinned youth sprinted for the edge of the cafe. A dead drop opened up to Coruscant's skyline. A bottomless pit, with speeder traffic darting about. Vaulting over the ledge, the youth plunged into the Coruscant traffic.

He caught glimpses of speeders zipping by his head, before he slammed down into the bag of a garbage hauler.

Winded, the boy went limp as he laid atop a pile of hot garbage. Looking up from here, he could actually see glimpses of the sky...

He smelled like a Dagobah swamp and looked like something the Sarlacc had spat out.

Cradling his right arm, the boy put his back up against the side of a building and slumped downward. He wasn't certain he could take another step. Adrenaline had started to drain from out of his body and he was out of deathsticks. Each breath was cut short by pain lancing through his chest. Blood trickled down his chin from where the cut on his lip had been re-opened, and one of his eyes was swollen shut, with the clear impression of a large fist a brilliant violet mark upon the side of his face.

He had to keep moving. He had to keep fighting. But he couldn't do it alone. Not any more. Not with that shoulder, anyway.

Where to go? No one to turn to. No one he could trust. Those people that he trusted all deserved something better than a life with him in it.

He was a Sithspawn. He was poisoned by the Dark Side. Everyone knew what that meant, so why did Théo have to go and adopt him of all things?

Boo was a monster. No one should love that.

And a Sithspawn shouldn't love a Jedi either.

The boy had found himself on the lower east side of Level 1313. It was the location where the crazy lady from that apartment had told him to go. The Soup Kitchen.

It looked like a restaurant. Like, a legitimate restaurant. Why anybody would have a restaurant in this armpit of the Undercity was beyond him, but there were. Boo used to steal food from out of the back alley trashcans of places like this when he'd been growing up here.

He crept around to the back and knocked on the door, not certain of just what to expect.

"A lady told me to ask for Abbie."

[member="Abaigeal E'ron"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Boo Chiyo"] // [member="Abaigeal E'ron"]

It was a fancy speech, Asher would give the man that much. As he sat by his table mulling over the day’s news he found himself instinctively drawn towards the announcement from above. The validity of news was always a big question mark once you got this far down into the levels, but changes in leadership was generally always truthful. It had a way of shaping the ebb and flow of services on the other levels. When Jedi were in charge it meant more questionable scum generally began to descend into the levels only to resurface once the Jedi were gone. When the Sith were in charge, well, it usually went the other direction. Thus was the way of the ebb and flow of people coming and going in the lower levels.

It was a mixed blessing at this point, really. An increase of people seeking shelter from righteous prosecution meant people that would bring illicit goods with them down to the levels. Levels that were generally more vicious than they would be accustomed to. Those that survived would thrive, those that couldn’t re-adapt to the new game rules of the lower levels were generally put out of their misery by the month’s end. Their stock would be distributed by the ones that took it, creating a target on their back, which then created a target on the back of those that stole it from the thieves, and the cycle repeated ad nauseum.

It was risky, but if Abbie and Asher were to assemble this small militia that they had thought of it was a fairly decent place to start, even with the targets that would be painted on their backs. Asher took a swig from his beer bottle and then put away the tablet on his table to lean back in his booth. Yet no sooner than he had gotten himself comfortable someone proceeded to stumble through the doors.

He got up and approached the kid who upon closer inspection looked and quite frankly also smelled like something that came out of the wrong end of a hutt. Seemed badly injured, asked for Abbie. Asher raised his brow. Must have been one of those friends she had made off-world. A weapons dealer, maybe? He sighed and shook his head as he yelled into the kitchen.

“Yo, Abs!” His voice boomed across the room. Seemed worried almost. “Need some help here!”

 

[Abaigeal E'ron]

The night was quiet. Apart from the regulars who came each and every night for a meal, most of which was ‘on the house’, as they were either on the books or just people in need of food. Over the past few weeks, Coruscant had seen a change of government, again. With CIC gone and the possibility of yet another group taking over the place, the people of the lower levels decided it prudent to remain in doors for the time being. Unless of course, they did not have doors to remain behind.

Alone at the window with one of the ‘regulars’, Abaigeal handed over the food contain with a smile and knowing nod, informed that the warehouses run by the Tears were expecting a delivery in a week from now, possibly arms or drugs, they did not know that. The change of government did not stop the Tears, in fact they took the opportunity as authorities were in upheaval and security was lax. But they were not the only ones that took the opportunity either. The Soup Kitchen awaiting word that their ‘goods’ had arrived and safely in the hide out.

The next order came through, “One bowl of Sourfry to go”, she yelled over her shoulder to the kitchen. The kitchen was busy tonight, like it is every night, when not cooking the personnel are organising. Communications, inventory, shipments, protection programmes and housing, you name it, there was always something that required attention.

But what could Asher possible require help with, “Yo, Abs?”, she repeated with a sense of dislike and questioning. By the force she hated him calling her that. She gave him a look to tell him so too, but the kid standing near by drew her attention.

“You found me I see”, she looked him over and it was obvious that he had been in a mess of trouble. “Asher check the back ally make sure he was not followed”, Abaigeal still on guard around this kid, knowing what he can do, and they had to be careful he did not bring ‘company’.

“They catch up with you?”, she asked indicated for the boy to sit, “If you want, I can take a look at that”, she motioned to his arm before going off to fetch a bowl of warm water to clean his face.

[member="Asher"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]​

 

[Zak Dymo]

"'Followed?'"

He was about ready to collapse right there on the floor. Knees weak. Legs trembling. Body slouched forward, clutching at his arm as his blurred and double vision seemed to go in and out of focus. Even still, there was still enough venom left in the kid that he echoed back the word as though to make clear that he was insulted by the implication.

Nothing on the Tears payroll that he'd seen so far was good enough to have followed him.

Dropping into the seat indicated by 'Abs', the boy silently observed the interactions between the dark haired man and the mysterious woman.

So far, his coming here had very much been taken in stride. It made him wonder just what kind of business this place had going on, really.

"I caught up with them. Once... twice. Maybe a few times," the boy stated, turning the question's phrasing back on the woman. "But that last pair of Trandoshan rent-a-goons was actually worth whatever the Tears is paying them."

[member="Abaigeal E'ron"] | [member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Boo Chiyo"] // [member="Abaigeal E'ron"]

Didn't need to see that look to feel it burn against his shoulder. Abaigeal gave an order and Asher followed it without hesitation, pushed past the kid and glanced around the alley. There were the usual 'squatters' but nothing that worried Asher. They warmed themselves over a burning barrel stuffed with old and unused pieces of scrap paper and textiles. Nothing that would last too long.

Asher clasped his hands together and approached the men by their barrel.

"Hey, did you see the kid that came by?" He asked the two men.

"What kid? Seen no-one around here." One of them responded.

"Certainly no blue-skinned babes." The other answered with a happy smile.

The first man smacked the other on the arm. "Scruff! Work on your damn act."

"What? I'm tryin' here!" The slightly older gentleman answered back.

Asher let out a satisfied chuckle.

"Right, well, you guys just make sure that nobody else saw anything either. Alright?" Asher said and nodded his head, looking back towards the back entrance to the kitchen. It was safe for the time being at the very least.

They both shrugged. Scruff spoke, "Fine with me as long as the food keeps coming. Nerf soon, maybe?"

"Don't push your luck, Scruff." Said his friend.

"Man's gotta try, Flea-bite." Scruffy said right back at him.

 

[Abaigeal E'ron]

“Yes, followed”, the look on the boy’s face was enough to tell Abaigeal of his hurt at the implication but there were more than the Tears to worry about down here. And even though this young boy did not believe they were capable of it, she knew better. There was also her obligation to the Soup Kitchen and all of the people employed by it, not just the kitchen staff, they were all under her protection and no one or nothing was going to place them in danger.

“Even the best of us can be”, with was the truth, no matter how good you are, there is always someone better.

Abaigeal kneeled beside the boy as he slumped into the seat, his eye was barely open and would be swollen for a day or two more by the angry look of it, but first to his arm which she gently took to ascertain if it was broken by moving it slowly and gently feeling along it’s full length. “Tell me where it really hurts”, she asked, Abaigeal was not using the force, it was a precaution that she did to not uncover her presence.

Although there was a change in government, it did not matter because there were always people that posed a threat. Remnants of the Sith were still at large, the Tears, the corrupt security forces, the list went on and on.

One of the kitchen hands placed a bowl of water beside her and a clean cloth, “You really are in a mess”, the soaked it and gently washed away some of the dried blood from the boy’s face. “You know my name, are you going to give me yours?”.

[member="Asher"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"]​

 

[Zak Dymo]

“Yes, followed.”

The boy cast a glare up at the woman. She was clearly feeling chatty today. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the Transdoshans...

"Who's that?" the boy asked, giving a nod of his head to indicate where the guy had just walked out the back. This chick didn't really seem the type to have a lot of hangers-on. Then again, looking around at the inside of the restaurant, the boy wasn't really sure just what kind of chick he was even dealing with right now. Maybe she was a bounty hunter with culinary training? Mandalorian Iron Chef? Some kind of crazy Sith Inquisitor gone sous-vide?

A devil-may-care smirk seemed to cross the boy's features for a moment, accentuating just how young he appeared, as he sarcastically tossed, "Your boyfriend?"

Her hands reached toward him.

He flinched back reflexively. It had been a long time since he'd been the slave to a lord of the One Sith, but some habits die hard. Realizing what he'd done, the boy steeled himself. His body was tense as she started probing his body.

“Tell me where it really hurts”

"Shoulders dislocated," the youth diagnosed dryly. He'd broken enough bones by this point to know the difference between a splintered radius, shattered humerus, or just a shoulder that was out of alignment. "I just need a hand popping the joint back into place."

Someone with the physical build and power of [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] would have been able to pop their own shoulder back into position. Boo didn't have the body mass for that.

Chit. He probably should have found a dark alley to have a piss in before he'd popped in here. He'd be lucky if he didn't wet himself when she set the joint.

“You really are in a mess.”

The boy's mouth opened. He had a smart retort, but it just withered on his tongue as fatigue sapped away at him. So instead, his mouth moved awkwardly, before he held his tongue.

“You know my name, are you going to give me yours?”

"It's Boo," the boy offered wearily.

[member="Abaigeal E'ron"] | [member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Boo Chiyo"] // [member="Abaigeal E'ron"]

So if Scruff and Flea-Bite were aboard, that meant they had the alley on lockdown to the fullest extent that they could. This was the lower levels after all, if there was no entrance people usually had the means to create one. It was that downward spiral of walls and punching holes in them. Which was to say that it was easier to just not build any walls to begin with. At least not if you were unable to plug those holes that would undoubtedly pop up as a result of it.

Asher went up the stairs to the safehouse to give it a quick check. Meticulously clean, given where they were. Not that he’d allow it to fall into any other state. All things considered it was more like a permanent residence for him at this point. Given the Tears and their vendetta against him it was just fair to assume that what little Asher had previously owned in terms of real estate and personal effects had been seized or destroyed the very same day that he murdered one of their bosses in broad daylight. Or well, as close to daylight as one could get down here.

Hell, it was practically the reason they were even doing all of this to begin with.

Closing the door behind him Asher made his way back to the back entrance of the kitchen and popped into observe the end of the first medical procedure. The good stuff that would fix it was upstairs, save for the essentials kept for when either Asher or Abaigeal would inevitably get bested and seriously hurt.

And here was Asher thinking they’d never get to use it. The kid sure showed him wrong on that.

“We should move this conversation somewhere more private.” He said and looked towards the front of the store. Food was still being served as if nothing had happened out there. Good. “Ears and eyes everywhere.”

 

[Abaigeal E'ron]

As he asked after Asher, Abaigeal looked into Boo’s eyes. There was a lot of life experience in them, for one so young, this kid had been through a lot already. Not only that, his actions back in the apartment told her as well. He knew how to kill, in fact he knew how to kill with a sense of pleasure which worried her. Whatever path had led him to her door, would not go unnoticed and she would keep an eye of that direction. “Nice to meet you again Boo”, she stood up as Asher entered the kitchen once more. She nodded her agreement and had decided to ignore Boo’s question about their friendship.

“We will get your shoulder back in alignment once we are upstairs”, she waited for the boy just in case he had trouble on his feet, after all the steps were steep. Abaigeal walked behind him as they entered through the alley to the door that would lead them to the headquarters of the Soup Kitchen. Once in side the main room, Abaigeal indicated for Boo to sit on the sofa while she would work on his arm and shoulder.

“Asher, you mind holding him still”, she took hold of Boo’s upper arm and back of his shoulder and gently lifted it higher to get ready for the pop. Although he was kid, and would not take as much strength to do this on her part, it was still going to hurt him.

Abaigeal started speaking once more, a distraction while she slowly rotated his arms and her hand feeling the shoulder for the socket, “You seem to know your way around Coruscant, the lower levels. I take it you are no stranger here?”. The colour of his skin, the features of his face were evident enough of his heritage, that he was pantoran but that meant little in the galaxy, all manner of people are born displaced from their origins.

[member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Asher"]​

 

[Zak Dymo]

"I take it you are no stranger here?”

He'd managed to get back on his own feet with a little help on the getting out of the chair part. Fatigue was starting to sap away at his strength, making him listless as they moved to a room up the stairs over the ubiquitous soup kitchen.

"Here? Total stranger," the boy uttered wearily. Which was the truth, from a certain point of view. "There's an open water main, where drainage from level twelve-four-beta dumps into a sewer line," the boy recalled aloud, describing a part of the Undercity that was even further into the strata of Coruscant than they were now. If there was a rock bottom to Undercity society, that would have been about it. Those levels were primarily dedicated to sewage treatment and solid waste processing. "I guess you might call it level nine-eleven-and-three-quarters. That's where I'm from."

Begging and pick-pocketing in this block would have been attempting to steal from people who didn't have anything worth stealing. "I was usually up on the fifteen hundred block for work," the boy added, winching as the woman began rotating his arm.

The lady could piece together for herself just what he meant by work. The undercity had no shortage of hungry orphans, and no shortage of street gangs either. The latter tended to prey on the former, using them as pick pockets, thieves, spice runners, or whatever else.

Then the joint popped back into the socket.

Boo hadn't screamed, but a sound like that of a roar rolled like thunder as it rattled the walls. For a brief moment, the boy's presence was like it had been inside of Callum's apartment. Not that of a boy or even a human being, but something animal. Something dark.

The blue color had faded to an off-white, as sweat broke out on his head.

[member="Abaigeal E'ron"] | [member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Boo Chiyo"] // [member="Abaigeal E'ron"]

The safehouse was a peaceful, calm, clean environment in an otherwise dirty underworld. Asher approached the kitchen as Abaigeal saw to their visitor. There had been no real moment to let the appearance of the kid sink in until now. Blue skin, yet he lacked the distinct eyes of a chiss. Something definitely seemed off about him. He was a local, yet he wasn’t which meant he had either gotten off-world and into the graces of someone else or he was lying through his teeth. Given the kid’s state Asher was given no reason to believe the latter, yet couldn’t see the former given where the kids aid he came from.

“That’s impossible.” Asher outright exclaimed with a dubious look in his eyes. “Anything past a thousand is a nightmarish-”

The boy screamed. No, he roared unlike anything Asher had ever heard in his life. He had seen the corridor ghouls, he had witnessed them devour a whole man before his very eyes and yet those howling shrieks compared very little to that of the roar that the kid let out.

There was no time to think. Asher pulled the blaster from his holster and pointed it straight at their visitor.

“What was that?!” He shouted, clearly frightened by what he had just seen. His eyes set on Abaigeal and then the kid. The gun did not lower, the fear did not go away. “Lower levels where? Who? What are you?”

 

[Abaigeal E'ron]

It was a primordial scream, which considering the pain that popping a shoulder back in place would produce, it still make Agaigeal's hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The sense of the darkside was no surprise however, having seen what the young boy was capable of with Callum. Her brow pulled together, Asher was on edge which was understandable especially if he had never witnessed anything like this before. "I guess you answer his questions, my friend is nervous for a reason". They are living on edge most of the time here on level 1313, not just because it is the underbelly of Coruscant, but because they had targets on their backs. The Tears, will not rest until they are discovered. And Abaigeal had only met the boy once, he could be anyone, working for anyone. But one that was in their favour was that the boy was not going anywhere soon.

She moved to the sink in the room, and pour the young boy a glass of filtered water. "Here drink this", she said passing it to him.

Geal sat opposite him a small table between them, "Now, you are local but you told me that you were a tourist but in the apartment. So lets have the truth. And lets start with where you came from and why you are back here on Coruscant". She gave Asher a look to tell him not to lower his blaster too much, enough to give the boy a small amount of good faith. But at the end of the day, Asher and Abaigeal had a lot loose if this boy turned out to be working for their enemies, she did not get that sense from him, but this boy was experienced, had power in the force strong for one that appeared to be so young. Looks to do not deceive Abaigeal, she is not what she seems either, so anything is possible.

"I am sure you can understand why we are curious, and I think that you need come clean".

Asher | Zak Dymo ​