District IV, Warehouse 89
Eden City, Yridia IX
The dingy warehouse was full of crates, many dusty. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t be moved, but there was a lull in the operation. The scouts were out, bounties were being made and found, and there were customers for the goods. But something was amiss.
Xolarin strode across the small office, mumbling to himself as he thought back on the neglect he had caused with the small syndicate he had formed long ago. He slammed his fist on the desk nearest him. “It’s got to be out there,” he said to himself. And then out loud to no one, “I’ll find it, then we can move on with things here.”
His partner and main investor had backed out. Initially Xolarin did not need the money, but after the events of Clan Tarentum in the Brotherhood, financial assistance was required. So without that backing, it was easy to see that his business would crumble. He didn’t need any farsight for that. But his focus on dark artifacts were blinding him to other eventualities. What he didn’t see is that he needed guidance along with that fervent focus, lest he waste away in an alley.
Starport outside District I
One more planet he told himself. This was the last effort before he would give up and try something else. Maybe another object, maybe sync back up with the Brotherhood, maybe back to looking for details about his father or Turel or Dael.
“Nonesense!” Xolarin said out loud. A few nearby gave him a funny look but he didn’t care. His current state dictated a carelessness in many situations. His perceptive mind was still finely acute, but he couldn’t care less for the plebes around him in this city.
The cloaked Xolarin moved towards the main gate area for transports off the planet. It was a fairly busy day, comparatively speaking. That made it easier for him to blend in and make his way out without distractions from probing eyes or even competitors’ spies.
As he strode by a passer-by they bumped shoulders. A cold chill ran down his arm and torso and Xolarin looked back. The other cloaked figure looked back at Xolarin and eventually faced him. Xolarin cocked his eyes and squinted. There was something strange and yet familiar about the man.
“Lost?,” came a voice under the hood.
Xolarin continued his odd glare. “No.” So hard to read the man, no matter how hard he probed. Something was… different, for sure.
Xolarin chortled at the notion. What did this guy know? He had his act together just fine. “I’m focused.”
The figure shook his head. “Let me help you. Focus your… focus.” He paused. “Xolarin.”
Xolarin suddenly felt a sort of calm within the chilled aura around the two of them. It almost felt like everything else went slow motion beyond their conversation. He spoke, slowly and now somber himself, the focus of his artifact waning just a tad. “How…” shaking his head but remaining hooked on the man. He knew there was truth to what the man offered. “What do…”
The other man grinned and interrupted. “Don’t be foolish. Follow me and get out of this pit.”
Xolarin was reticent at first, as he really didn’t feel Eden was a pit. Of course then he realized the man meant Xolarin’s work here or his constant searching. The fallen Jedi nodded eventually, intrigued about this far more than his other projects for sure. “Who are you?”
“Muz Ashen Keibatsu,” he said as he turned and began walking.
Xolarin’s eyes widened, knowing well the name, and eventually began to follow. This was NOT how he thought the day would go.