Drin Kizael's Story: Chapter 2

[Drin Kizael]

Drin Kizael stood in the center of the circular chamber, trying not to stare at most bizarre collection of aliens the cub had seen in all his life. He had seen humans before, but his father said you couldn't trust them, always trying to take what wasn't their's.

He was still trying to understand everything that was happening to him. Morrja Djreeshan had said he possessed a gift, powers that could help people. Leaving Brochiib was hard. He had never been off-world and he didn't want to leave his father all alone.

The alien he was trying hardest not to stare at nodded as Djreeshan introduced him. He looked old, but was half the Trianii cub's height. But mostly he was trying not to laugh at his ears.

The little green man closed his eyes, sighing. Kizael cringed back in confusion, but was tapped none to gently on the back of his head for it. Kizael forced his composure and waited.

"Hmmm. Much potential do I see." The being opened his wizened eyes and looked at Kizael, more straight through him than at him. Strong he will be. But the least of a Jedi's skills this is."

Kizael raised an eyebrow at the goblin and asked more than a little indignantly, "What do you mean?"

Morrja Djreeshan's cream-colored fur almost turned white. The diminuitive creature's eyes widened in mock surprise, then softened. "If trained as a Jedi you are ... great power will you have. Strength greater than the mightiest Ranger."

The Trianii cub found that hard to imagine, but intuitively knew he was telling the truth. "With it ... what would you do?"

A million scenerios ran through his mind, but a voice inside him told him that this was the most important question he will ever be asked.

Kizael looked up. "I would end the fighting between the Corporate Sector and my people. My mother was killed in a riot at one of their factories." A lump began to form in his throat, but to his surprise, this was the most at peace he had felt since her death. "I don't want any more people to get hurt."

The old Jedi Master looked up at Djreeshan and nodded.


"They're gone. Sir ... the soliders have gone."

Drin Kizael's eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Diranni Rhi, the Selonian who hid him from a Stormtrooper search and retreival squad. He sat up in the cot, looking past her to the door of the hidden storage room. Tellis Rhi stood in the light, visibly drained but putting on a good show of resolve for his benefit.

The Trianii rose, relieved that he could do so on his own. He walked toward the light, grasping Tellis' hand firmly. "I cannot begin to express my thanks. I put your life and your family at risk."

"The fact that you live is payment enough."

Kizael smiled. Here was a sentient with the strength to break an Imperial in two with his bare hands yet he lived in fear of them. Once again he witnessed testament to the power of compassion and courage over strength.

The Jedi looked at the early morning sun outside. "Two days," Tellis answered the unspoken question.

"They left a garrison?" It was more of a statement, but Tellis answered yes anyway. "I have already burdened you enough, but I must ask one more favor of you."

The Selonian nodded, not even considering he could say no. Drin could not help but chuckle. "I have made arrangements with an Advozse named Dil'ah Minz."

"I know him. He is your transport off world?" Again, it was more of a statement than a question.

Kizael clasped Tellis on the shoulder. "I owe you more than you know."

-----

To see how this story began, read Chapter 1 (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=7929)

[Drin Kizael]

"It's about time!" the brutish Advozse yelled as a repulsorlift truck hovered into view.

The pock-faced humanoid lumbered up to the bay entrance as 5 suits of white armor stepped in its path. "What are you doin' here? I'm already behind schedule."

The sharp turn of a Stormtrooper made him pause, but did little to calm him. "With the tarrif you buukas are makin' me pay, don't expect me to give up a centicred for the extra docking time yer costin me."

Dil'ah Minz stepped around the crowd, but received another expressionless black glare for trying to get through to inspect the cargo of the speeder for himself. The Stormtrooper unit commander was far more interested in the datapad than the grumbling spacer.

The cargo door slid open, followed by another attempt to get through. This time the sharp look of the trooper was punctuated with a raised weapon. Minz raised his hands easily and stepped back with a resigned sigh.

He winced as they banged on the 4 meter long plastoid alloy frames inside. "Careful. Those are top of the--" A metallic screeched cut him off, before he could add, "line."

"Holonet servers you jizzraks! Ho-lo-net. That's for a new hub in-- Oh for the luvva-- ... Read the manifest!"

The robotic reactions of the armored troops did even less to calm him than before. "You're paying for that!" he yelled, but the only reply, as expected, was the datapad slapped in his chest.

"Move along."

"What's your serial number you raztin--"

"Move along."

"Yotz."

Within the next 10 minutes, the servers were loaded into the cargo bay of the aging Kazellis light freighter, Mynock Herder. From the cockpit, Dil'ah tossed one last scowl at the Imperial detail looking on and raised ship.

*****

The creak of metal reached his ears, then light filtered in through the fibreoptic cocoon as a second panel was shifted away. Drin Kizael used the time it took to remove the remains of the gutted computer system to adjust to the sharp phospherous light of the cargo bay. It felt like he was in there for days.

The large felinoid rose from what he feared would be his coffin before he had felt the ship finally jump to lightspeed. He flexed the tightness from his joints, turning toward the Advozse. "You did well, my friend."

Minz only sneered in reply. "Yer my friend till we reach Etti IV. Then the debt's paid, Jedi."

Kizael smiled pleasantly and nodded. "Agreed."

The humanoid snorted. "Yer stuff's in the second cabin to starboard. The 'fresher's aft. We got 18 hours to the CSA Picket Line."

Drin hit the keypad and opened the door to the tiny passenger cabin. He stepped in, taking a small locker off the nightstand. It took some care to maneuver in the cramped room, but finally managed to sit. He leaned against the durasteel hull. With a momentary pause as if bracing himself, he rested the locker in his lap and opened it.

His furred hands stroked the brown cloth within. He unfolded the robe, revealing a change of clothes, a leather bound journal, a datapad with a handful of cards, and a holoimage of a much shorter and jubilant version of himself with 3 other Jedi.

Kizael paused, regarding the hologram. He shuddered reflexively at his own image. His Padawan braid was quite fashionable by his people's standards, but at the cost of shaving his mane tragically short. He looked like a girl. A far more reserved human in his teens stood next to him. Both were proud to wear the braids of their station, but it looked more natural on the clean-shaven boy.

The bearded human with distinguished features standing behind them, in sharp contrast to his padawan, wore his dark hair in a long mane that rivaled many pride leaders. Kizael's eyes then drifted to the last being in the frame, a cream-furred Trianii in green robes.

After a moment of quiet reflection, he placed the holo down and opened another layer within the folded clothes. Kizael's comfortable smile again crept through the white fur of his face as he reached in, producing a crystalline cube.

The Jedi held it up, watching the miriad of tiny flames reflected by the light of the ship.

(OOC - Edit: The holo description was too subtle. Fixed it)