Corellian Ale. Telos Mead. Wine of the Jem. Bottle after bottle of various galactic alcohol came flying out of the minibar. The whole fridge of it had to have been emptied by this time. Then all of a sudden came a cheer of victory.
“HA!” Irtar yelled as he held the bottle triumphantly in the air. “Dantooine Rye! I knew they had to have a bottle of the stuff in there!”
Irtar looked at the results of his little quest for a taste of home. He sighed a bit and his mouth tilted into a sort of half-frown. Well, he had to get them back in there because he was sure he didn’t want a tab to end up on the Coalition desk that listed thirty bottles of booze in one night. Wouldn’t exactly endear him.
Putting the bottle of rye on the top of the mini-fridge, Irtar began putting the other bottles back in the fridge. He was about half-way through when he heard a gentle rapping at the door. The ambassador quickly hoped over to the door and swung it open. There standing was Chao, wearing a more informal dress than his standard fair. But then again, both of them were on a vacation of sorts.
Chao had been kind enough as to invite the loyal man along seeing how Irtar was always doing something. Whether it was his independent training in seeking the Force or working for the Coalition. Chao had come here with his wife for a yearly unveiling of new pieces at the art gallery on Vortex. Apparently, Chao had always had a soft spot for the arts.
But then again, everyone has their hobbies.
Chao took a look around the room with a smirk. “Dear Ambassador, I knew you enjoyed taking stuff apart but I thought your hobby didn’t spread to hotel rooms.”
“All in the name of progress I assure you, Chairman. Soon we’ll know how to build the perfect hotel room to combat the evils of the Empire!” Irtar said with a bit of a laugh. And then he suddenly remembered his reward from his previous efforts and quickly ran over to the bottle sitting on the mini-bar. “And look at the rewards that the loyal servants of the Coalition are rewarded with! And so, as a fellow ally of the Coalition, I would offer to share these spoils with you and your wife.”
“I’m sorry Irtar, but me and Chun-lin were about to head out. We have reservations for a meeting with a Vor artist concerning a piece he’s put for a sale.” Chao said somewhat apologetically. “I actually came over to see what your plans for the evening were.”
“Meh… I’ve got nothing in mind. I guess I will spend it with my wonderful long-necked friend.” Irtar said, as he cantered his head slightly as he looked at the bottle.
“Well, my personal suggestion is that you take a tour of the city. The Vor pride themselves on their art and try to build it even into the most simple of things. Besides, you haven’t had the chance to see it at night.” Chao said simple as he looked disapprovingly at the forty of rye Irtar held in his hand. “Well, if you choose not to follow my suggestion, the choice is yours. Good evening Irtar, and good health.”
Chao bowed his head slightly as turned and walked down the hall. With a sigh Irtar closed the door behind and looked at the forty. A little piece of home in a foreign land. His brothers and father had split a bottle not too unlike this one back before Irtar had left to head off to the Jedi Temple.
‘A drink to good health, and some more for good measure!’ was what his father had said. And last he heard, the man was still in a coma. Had been overwhelmed with shock after being abducted, then being told his wife was dead and his son had killed her. Irtar grimaced as he looked at the bottle and put it down, suddenly not feeling as thirsty as he had.
Irtar resumed cleaning up the mess he had left earlier. Before long, the room was back in good order. Save for that one bottle he left sitting on the counter.
How much does the past haunt and mock us?
Irtar spent the rest of the evening moving between thought, and meditating to try and focus what little power in the Force he could muster. He was still dedicated to trying to figure out this Jedi thing even if he had to do it on his own. Ambassadorial duties had begun to cut into his practicing time, but after a long day of art galleries and dealing with more tomorrow, he decided he might as well rub up a bit on his own.
He did hold a bit of jealousy towards the Vorn as he prepared to meditate. They seemed completely emotionally disconnected from everything but their art. And it was this lack of ability in Irtar that made him in his current position. Practicing on his own. The Jedi taught to be dispassionate and dedicated solely into the Force. But Irtar couldn’t sever his feelings for his family. He knew the reactions that’d it bring. That he was a risk to being overwhelmed with the ‘Dark Feelings’. That he would be doomed to fall.
And so he simply left.
No. Irtar forced himself to resolve himself. No matter what any of the other Jedi said, he would not fall to the Sith. He would find his own way to the Light. And with that resolve, Irtar sat down and prepared his nightly meditations to try and improve his skill at applying the Force.
--------------------------------------------------
Irtar lay in bed, his body turning as a cold sweat began to consume his body. His eyes twitching and turning in their sockets as if desperately searching through his eyelids that clenched shut. His teeth ground, as he thrashed about as if from some unseen attacker. The great foe of dreams. The terror of nightmares.
Nightmares that had begun to grow ever since he had arrived on Vortex.
Nightmares of blood.
Of demons.
Of pain and suffering.
Symbols of religions long since thought abandoned by the rest of the galaxy. Bibles, and chanting in a lost tongue. Rituals unspeakable to most except in this realm of dreams. The terrors of a mind.
From the inferno of torture devices from ages past, and the beings dressed in crude suits to reflect their dark lords, came on clear thing. From the twisting inferno and nether of the Hell that had consumed his mind Irtar heard one thing ring clear.
The piercing shriek of a woman.
-------------------------------------
Irtar more jumped out of bed than sat up. Holding tightly to his chest, the young Jedi shuddered as he reached to his night stand and grabbed the glass of water he left sitting there. He drank it quickly, letting the liquid douse his parched mouth. He was still shaking as he got out of his bed and threw on his shirt. He went in the living room and leaned against the couch for a moment as he tried to calm himself.
“It’s all… just a dream… nothing more….” Irtar confided in himself in an attempt to shake that lurking feeling from him. That feeling like a shadow lurking over him.
“Y’know! I’ll go for a walk! Yeah, Chao said I should see the town at night. Should be a lovely sight. No tourists in the way, and the lights playing on the crystals….” Irtar said in mock confidence as he stiffened up and grabbed his jacket and his boots. He tapped the inside pocket of the jacket to make sure his lightsaber was still there. It wasn’t the dream at all, he just liked to be safe. Taking the room key and putting it in his pocket, he proudly made his way out of the room.
The streets of the Vorn capitol were certainly interesting. The Vorn were quite strict on the external of any structure within their city. All building part of a greater whole. Though indeed there were buildings owned by various races in tourism and otherwise, on the outside each structure seemed Vorn in construction. The inside of the structures belonged (for the most part) to the building owners however so that’s why with some places you wouldn’t know. It was an odd place.
But Irtar couldn’t deny the magnificent reward for their labours.
The crystal lamps they used to illuminate the streets were beautiful, and the way they aligned it all. With a careful eye, he could follow the path of light as it flowed, reflected from one lamp to another, along the street. And the streets bore very little traffic at night, allowing a deep sense of serenity as one made their way along the streets. Wind chimes hanging from various places, catching the wind and creating a strange song as one made their path.
He didn’t know how he got there, but he heard it softly at first. A sweet melody upon the windy air. He made his way towards it, the closer he got the more windy it was. And Irtar realized something. The aerodynamics of the structures allowed them to harness and enhance the power of the wind. Creating great air-currents leading towards some central point.
And then, he stood before it. He should’ve known. It was so obvious when he arrived.
The Great Cathedral of the Wind.
The center of the Vorn Capital, civilization, and the air paths made by the city.
