"Templar"
Character
…SskkKKRRKkk…
It had been some time since Templar last walked the streets of Nar Shaddaa. This time it was in the city of New Vertica. It felt different from when she was last on this planet. Nothing like the run down dust filled town that was run by the local Hutt casino. The main streets were wide and illuminated. Holo-ads flickered across the polish transparisteel and duracrete buildings. Towers climbed upward into the sky with stacked terraces. The windows glowed with artificial warmth from outside and in. Music drifted from open doors as laughter and yelling spilled out in brief careless bursts.
Templar didn’t linger on the main streets for long. Instead, she drifted into the narrow passages between the buildings. Where the light thinned and the city’s polish gave way to something more honest of New Vertica. Storefronts here were shuttered or half abandoned, the signage cracked or blinking erratically. The air felt damp. It smelled of oil, old coolant, and rot that clung stubbornly to the walls. She roamed the alleyways unhurriedly. Tilting her helmet ever so slightly as she listened. The city’s buzz became more of a muffle as she went in deeper.
Clack. Boots struck the ground. Clack. Each step echoing down the narrow passageways. Clack. A low uneven sound of fabric scrapping behind her followed obediently. Skrrrrckk. The noise never quite kept pace. Skkrrchk. Always lagging half a breath behind. Thump. Something heavier followed, Shkrrrckk… thump, each time it caught on the broken pavement.
Templar’s footsteps came to a halt. Panning her helmet slowly from: left, middle, right. Taking in the branching paths of the alleyway ahead. There was familiarity here. Not memory, but something duller. A pressure beneath thought, a whisper in the Force that did not speak in words. Only direction. A subtle tug.
She adjusted her gloved grip and continued on. The sound of footsteps and dragging followed obediently. Templar moved through New Vertica’s back-alley maze as though the streets remembered her, even if she did not remember them. Following instinctively, the pull and the quiet insistence. Letting it guide her forward.
The Relic knew the armor and cloak she wore were impossible to miss. No attempt at subtly. White and gold armored plates dulled with age. Its surfaces scarred with edges chipped and worn down. The cloaked fabric that hung heavy from her shoulders were frayed at the ends and partially sun-faded. Everything she carried had seen better days. Yet she refused to change. The armor was the last tether Templar had to a past that refused to surface. Without it… She’d feared she would simply… drift.
A muffled groan pulled her attention back to the present. Her gaze lifted and settled at the far end of the alley. There stood a storage-like facility. Plain and unremarkable. Easily half-forgotten by the city around it. ‘This.’ The dragging sound grew louder as Templar approached. ‘Is this it?’
sSSkrrrckk… Thump
Templar grasped the handle and pulled. The door creaked open and inside the space was bare and functional. Just a single room with a desk and a chair. Bare walls. No clutter, no decoration. The emptiness filled with artificial light. She stepped in fully, letting the door close behind her. Templar’s helmet turned slowly, sweeping left to right. It was quiet. Too quiet. Until she saw her.
A figure with red hair, sitting at the desk in a white doctor’s coat. Unaware or at least pretending to be. Templar crossed the room without haste. Her boots stopped at the front of the desk, remaining silent as she watched the figure. Observing. The helmet revealed nothing, but her attention was fixed.
From beneath her cloak, she brought up one gloved hand and reached out. Tugging the collar of her cloak twice, as if it was the figure's white coat. A simple straight forward gesture. Templar’s head tilted slightly to one side. A question.
A silent inquiry hung between them.
Doctor?
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