Dasquian Belargic
Dec 23rd, 2002, 04:59:59 AM
<u>i. The Journey to Planet Woostri</u>
Since the fall of the Old Republic much had changed. In his time within the Greater Jedi Order, Dasquian had seen many things which would not have even been possible in his childhood. Of course he had adjusted now and was becoming more accustomed to the technologically advanced way of life than he had been to precedent days. The endless skyline of Coruscant was truly a marvel, but it was nothing compared to the plains of Woostri and the great mines of Thane-dun. Often his mind would return to these places, and from this one thing was becoming clear – he longed to walk on his home soil once more.
Reunited with Aaron, his twin brother, he felt even more compelled to see what he remembered, and indeed what he had been told (for his dear friend Hrolthar spoke of great changes within their old community.) Perhaps another reason he wished to see the Woostri plains again was his current situation within the Order. Though he had risen to a position on the Council, he felt uncomfortable around certain members and sensed a growing need to get away for a little while, to relax.
Having informed his fellow Councilmen of his departure, and left a note to his roommate Sejah to explain his absence, Dasquian had set off to find his apprentice and acquaintance Hrolthar. The two had not been on best of terms as of late, as the dwarven warrior believed Dasquian was putting off visiting home for far too long. Perhaps this announcement of his would bring a little colour into his cheeks again. With a spring in his step and a light call of hello, the Jedi Knight knocked on the door in front of him.
“Ai' atar!” he called, for this was the nickname he gave to Ben now, and meant ‘little father’, a moniker for a strong male dwarf.
“Rasup ogamut men!” a voice barked in return (which translated loosely as “I’m not well”). Always Hrolthar would speak to Dasquian in one of the two languages their community had formed on Woostri. The first was introduced by the travellers who brought Aaron and his twin to live on the planet and was named Hallaer. The tongue that Ben spoke and had taught to Dasquian was called Aier. For anyone who could speak either tongue, their names were humorous – for Dasquian’s language meant Tall One, and Ben’s in turn translated as Small One.
“Come out, Ben. You can’t stay cooked up in their forever. This negativity is doing no good for your soul.”
From behind the door where was a sound of movement, a little bit of shuffling, then a thud.
“No. I have nothing to say to you, Master Belargic!”
“Not even if I should wish to ask you to accompany me to Woostri?”
A long silence held. Confident that Ben was simply tousling with his pride over admitting defeat, Dasquian half smiled. Eventually the clang of armour clattering together was heard, followed by footfalls approaching. The door swung open to reveal a sizeably more amiable figure. The dwarf threw his arms out around Dasquian and embraced him firmly, before pulling away.
“About time, I say! I trust that yer brother shall be accompanying us, eh?” he said, the letter ‘r’ rolling off of his tongue in a highly accentuated and pronounced fashion. With an affirming nod from his lithe friend, Hrolthar then exclaimed:
“Then let’s get crackin’!”
Urged on by the frantic Hrolthar, the three were ready in no time. Each had packed a satchel which housed a few medical supplies, some food rations, spare sets of clothes and some tokens to serve as gifts for their descendants. The two brothers wore traditional robes and armour akin to Bens: thick leather breast plates with strong shoulder pads to match, covering a travelling cloak and all the trappings of a warrior. Dasquian wore this attire in a deep blue, whilst Aaron had chosen a rich brown. Both wore sabers at their belts and carried a thin short sword on their hips. Benatoer, on the other hand, favoured an axe above any other weapon and kept this firmly strapped onto his back.
The three looked quite the trio as they strode through the halls of the Order to their transport. Many had still not yet become accustomed to seeing ‘two Dasquians’ roaming about and would become dreadfully confused at the sight of the twins – this in itself was half the reason they wore distinguishably different attire each day.
“Who is to fly the ship, brother?” questioned Aaron, eyes scanning the small transport that stood before them. It was noticeable that he was nervous. Dasquian recalled having the same faint fear of space travel after their unfortunate crash, however he was now comfortable.
“It will pilot itself. All I need do is enter the co-ordinates for Woostri and it will direct us there – go have a wander about the ship. It shall be our home for the next few days.”
As instructed, all boarded. It was a modest craft with a single room housing two bunk beds – nothing special, but then the group preferred Spartan surroundings over luxurious ones. Each settled in, and in time the ship was lifting off to whisk the group back to Woostri. For the majority of the time spent journeying back home Dasquian said little. Aaron and Ben played a game of Sabacc or two, and eventually coaxed their seemingly distressed leader into joining in. Soon enough he was in high spirits, and eager to be home.
Very little sleep was had in the last few hours before landing, though it did not show one bit on the passengers faces. Each was sat in the cockpit, looking out of the main view screen as they made their descent towards the surface of Woostri. Once through the atmosphere Dasquian had expected to see the same sandy patterning he recalled so vividly, but instead he was greeted with something drastically different.
Beneath the clouds, and indeed in some places prying above them, an emerald city sat. As far as the eye could see there were translucent structures, made in jade and cyan, and trimmed with bands of cerise and yellow. This megalopolis did not seem to end. Barely had Dasquian had a moment to allow the image to sink in before a siren sounded. Panicked, he turned and looked around. A beam had locked onto the craft and was pulling it downwards. He rushed to the front of the ship and saw down below a man waving guide sticks, whilst another appeared to be easing their ship down onto a landing pad. Both wore uniforms akin to the Stormtroopers utilized by the Empire, only instead of bulky white frames they were sleek grey suits that clung tightly to their bodies; forming into an almost insect-like helmet. Each bore a half-crescent blade, embedded with some form of gems.
“Greetings visitors,” one stated his voice surprisingly soft from behind the advanced exterior.
“From which system do you hail?”
“We are Jedi Knights, from the Greater Jedi Order of Coruscant within the core worlds. This is Hrolthar Benatoer, and this my brother Aaron,” he said, indicating to both, “And I am Dasquian Belargic.”
A moment of puzzlement fell amongst the men as they glanced from one to the other uneasily.
“Dasquian Belargic?” one finally replied, in disbelief, “And Aaron Belargic?”
A nod of affirmation came from the two. As a response, a guard lifted a small device from a panel on his chest and depressed a button on it. For a moment, he muttered into it. After a minute or so of standing in silence whilst the guards talked with each other the three were ordered to follow. Whilst the ship was locked down their trip through the streets of the city began. The leader of the small platoon of guards was still conversing with the small communications device at the head of the group, out of earshot – however not so quiet that Dasquian’s force-enhanced senses were unable to pick it up.
“Dasquian and Aaron Belargic, with a … short one, with a big beard… yes, they look like twins… uh… uh-huh… yup, he’s got an axe… claiming to be Jedi, a trustworthy breed apparently… Yaaraerea, yesyes of course I know you know what Jedi are ma’am, sorry sorry… ok, yes. We’ll escort them to the presidential palace as soon as possible…”
Whilst the guards chatted excitedly amongst one another, Dasquian look from his brother to his friend and smiled somewhat. He canted his head to the side, towards Aaron, and whispered – so that Ben could hear too:
“Things certainly have changed.”
Since the fall of the Old Republic much had changed. In his time within the Greater Jedi Order, Dasquian had seen many things which would not have even been possible in his childhood. Of course he had adjusted now and was becoming more accustomed to the technologically advanced way of life than he had been to precedent days. The endless skyline of Coruscant was truly a marvel, but it was nothing compared to the plains of Woostri and the great mines of Thane-dun. Often his mind would return to these places, and from this one thing was becoming clear – he longed to walk on his home soil once more.
Reunited with Aaron, his twin brother, he felt even more compelled to see what he remembered, and indeed what he had been told (for his dear friend Hrolthar spoke of great changes within their old community.) Perhaps another reason he wished to see the Woostri plains again was his current situation within the Order. Though he had risen to a position on the Council, he felt uncomfortable around certain members and sensed a growing need to get away for a little while, to relax.
Having informed his fellow Councilmen of his departure, and left a note to his roommate Sejah to explain his absence, Dasquian had set off to find his apprentice and acquaintance Hrolthar. The two had not been on best of terms as of late, as the dwarven warrior believed Dasquian was putting off visiting home for far too long. Perhaps this announcement of his would bring a little colour into his cheeks again. With a spring in his step and a light call of hello, the Jedi Knight knocked on the door in front of him.
“Ai' atar!” he called, for this was the nickname he gave to Ben now, and meant ‘little father’, a moniker for a strong male dwarf.
“Rasup ogamut men!” a voice barked in return (which translated loosely as “I’m not well”). Always Hrolthar would speak to Dasquian in one of the two languages their community had formed on Woostri. The first was introduced by the travellers who brought Aaron and his twin to live on the planet and was named Hallaer. The tongue that Ben spoke and had taught to Dasquian was called Aier. For anyone who could speak either tongue, their names were humorous – for Dasquian’s language meant Tall One, and Ben’s in turn translated as Small One.
“Come out, Ben. You can’t stay cooked up in their forever. This negativity is doing no good for your soul.”
From behind the door where was a sound of movement, a little bit of shuffling, then a thud.
“No. I have nothing to say to you, Master Belargic!”
“Not even if I should wish to ask you to accompany me to Woostri?”
A long silence held. Confident that Ben was simply tousling with his pride over admitting defeat, Dasquian half smiled. Eventually the clang of armour clattering together was heard, followed by footfalls approaching. The door swung open to reveal a sizeably more amiable figure. The dwarf threw his arms out around Dasquian and embraced him firmly, before pulling away.
“About time, I say! I trust that yer brother shall be accompanying us, eh?” he said, the letter ‘r’ rolling off of his tongue in a highly accentuated and pronounced fashion. With an affirming nod from his lithe friend, Hrolthar then exclaimed:
“Then let’s get crackin’!”
Urged on by the frantic Hrolthar, the three were ready in no time. Each had packed a satchel which housed a few medical supplies, some food rations, spare sets of clothes and some tokens to serve as gifts for their descendants. The two brothers wore traditional robes and armour akin to Bens: thick leather breast plates with strong shoulder pads to match, covering a travelling cloak and all the trappings of a warrior. Dasquian wore this attire in a deep blue, whilst Aaron had chosen a rich brown. Both wore sabers at their belts and carried a thin short sword on their hips. Benatoer, on the other hand, favoured an axe above any other weapon and kept this firmly strapped onto his back.
The three looked quite the trio as they strode through the halls of the Order to their transport. Many had still not yet become accustomed to seeing ‘two Dasquians’ roaming about and would become dreadfully confused at the sight of the twins – this in itself was half the reason they wore distinguishably different attire each day.
“Who is to fly the ship, brother?” questioned Aaron, eyes scanning the small transport that stood before them. It was noticeable that he was nervous. Dasquian recalled having the same faint fear of space travel after their unfortunate crash, however he was now comfortable.
“It will pilot itself. All I need do is enter the co-ordinates for Woostri and it will direct us there – go have a wander about the ship. It shall be our home for the next few days.”
As instructed, all boarded. It was a modest craft with a single room housing two bunk beds – nothing special, but then the group preferred Spartan surroundings over luxurious ones. Each settled in, and in time the ship was lifting off to whisk the group back to Woostri. For the majority of the time spent journeying back home Dasquian said little. Aaron and Ben played a game of Sabacc or two, and eventually coaxed their seemingly distressed leader into joining in. Soon enough he was in high spirits, and eager to be home.
Very little sleep was had in the last few hours before landing, though it did not show one bit on the passengers faces. Each was sat in the cockpit, looking out of the main view screen as they made their descent towards the surface of Woostri. Once through the atmosphere Dasquian had expected to see the same sandy patterning he recalled so vividly, but instead he was greeted with something drastically different.
Beneath the clouds, and indeed in some places prying above them, an emerald city sat. As far as the eye could see there were translucent structures, made in jade and cyan, and trimmed with bands of cerise and yellow. This megalopolis did not seem to end. Barely had Dasquian had a moment to allow the image to sink in before a siren sounded. Panicked, he turned and looked around. A beam had locked onto the craft and was pulling it downwards. He rushed to the front of the ship and saw down below a man waving guide sticks, whilst another appeared to be easing their ship down onto a landing pad. Both wore uniforms akin to the Stormtroopers utilized by the Empire, only instead of bulky white frames they were sleek grey suits that clung tightly to their bodies; forming into an almost insect-like helmet. Each bore a half-crescent blade, embedded with some form of gems.
“Greetings visitors,” one stated his voice surprisingly soft from behind the advanced exterior.
“From which system do you hail?”
“We are Jedi Knights, from the Greater Jedi Order of Coruscant within the core worlds. This is Hrolthar Benatoer, and this my brother Aaron,” he said, indicating to both, “And I am Dasquian Belargic.”
A moment of puzzlement fell amongst the men as they glanced from one to the other uneasily.
“Dasquian Belargic?” one finally replied, in disbelief, “And Aaron Belargic?”
A nod of affirmation came from the two. As a response, a guard lifted a small device from a panel on his chest and depressed a button on it. For a moment, he muttered into it. After a minute or so of standing in silence whilst the guards talked with each other the three were ordered to follow. Whilst the ship was locked down their trip through the streets of the city began. The leader of the small platoon of guards was still conversing with the small communications device at the head of the group, out of earshot – however not so quiet that Dasquian’s force-enhanced senses were unable to pick it up.
“Dasquian and Aaron Belargic, with a … short one, with a big beard… yes, they look like twins… uh… uh-huh… yup, he’s got an axe… claiming to be Jedi, a trustworthy breed apparently… Yaaraerea, yesyes of course I know you know what Jedi are ma’am, sorry sorry… ok, yes. We’ll escort them to the presidential palace as soon as possible…”
Whilst the guards chatted excitedly amongst one another, Dasquian look from his brother to his friend and smiled somewhat. He canted his head to the side, towards Aaron, and whispered – so that Ben could hear too:
“Things certainly have changed.”