Invicta - Always Moving Forward

I crouched on a low branch beneath the Wildwoods cavernous canopy, listening to the sounds of Kinrath congregating beneath me. The sounds they made were kind of gross to listen to, but that made sense. Kinrath were gross. That was even more incentive for them not to find me.

Between Sandra’s training and my new legs, climbing the tree was as simple as running up a hill. My cybernetics had left a few scratches on the bark, though, which was something I needed to work on. An experienced tracker would probably spot those. But I wasn’t ready to be thinking about experienced trackers. This was step one of the datachit Elyd had given me: conceal your presence.

Only after I learned how to avoid being seen or heard would I start on the more advanced topics, like movement and breaking tails. I winced. This was all so much more complicated than the desert, where I could just drop to the ground the moment I suspected someone might of seen me, or crouch-walk up behind them and bash them on the head with a rock before they knew I was there. This was civilization. I couldn’t just knock someone out, sling them over my shoulder, and toss them in a cage until they woke up.

Scratch that. I could, but they would have to deserve it.

The Kinrath scuttled beneath me, chittering to each other. It seemed as if they were aware someone was present, but were confused that the trail ended at the base of a tree. They were cave dwellers, and not native to Viscara. They had no idea what trees were, other than convenient spots to weave their webs between. Still, I figured one might look up at some point, maybe even long enough to notice that one of the bunches of leaves above their heads was a different shade of green and also made of woven fiberplast.

Listen to me, Viksy, Seiji had told me in a lesson once. Remember this lesson well. If an animal seems dumb at first glance… it probably is. That’s it. That’s the lesson. Also, humans are dumb animals.

It was now that I realized how true Seiji’s words had been. Humans never had any real cause to look up. They didn’t even like to make eye contact in public unless they wanted something. They didn’t want to be alarmed, or surprised, or get involved. They just wanted to go about their day, oblivious. With understanding came excitement. I had spent a year as a desert ninja, a lawless shinobi who only cared about survival. Now, I could become something else entirely: AN URBAN NIN–

SKREEK

My internal monologue was interrupted by the annoying sound of the Kinrath finally noticing I was here. I looked down, frowning. They had circled the base of the tree, and were starting to whack at it with those weird mouth-limbs of theirs. No matter how often I got told it was just another appendage, the Kinrath always looked like they were opening their mouths really wide and pushing a fifth leg out through the hole. Literally everything about them was gross.

Anyway, it was time to find a different tree and try again. This commotion was just going to draw more Kinrath. I rolled sideways off my branch and drew my training sabers, slashing in less than graceful arcs. But grace didn’t matter in this case. The Kinrath were still dead before I hit the ground.

I stowed my sabers on my belt and gathered my cape from the branch, throwing it around my shoulders in the usual way. Once I felt dressed and prepared, I wandered south, thinking I might try my luck with one of the outlaw bands who roamed the forest. They would be more difficult to fool, but there was one thing they had over Kinrath that made them an appealing option.

They were not nearly as gross.

////////////////////

Stealth - Beginner (1/8)

I strode onto the shuttle concourse, a thick robe covering my face and my increasingly-unwieldy cybernetic legs. The bustle of the crowd here never ended, and the press of bodies against me brought memories of the last time I was here. Running from the police. Seeing my father standing on a cargo crate and shouting my name. Begging me to come back.

I wasn’t ready to come back. I might never be. But I still had a duty to perform, and that duty brought me home, to Coruscant.

Nobody paid attention to me as I slipped quietly out of the queue. Jedi weren’t common, but the people of the city were used to paying robed figures little mind. It was ingrained into the culture of the planet that Jedi business was best left to Jedi. I wasn’t technically a Jedi yet, but the robes, tunic, and training sabers at my hips were the only identification anyone who might stop me needed.

The side corridors of the starport where not empty, but there were fewer people, mostly employees. A few of them gave me hard looks, as if challenging my presence, but never said anything. I did my best not to shrink away from their gazes. I had to seem like she belonged here, or else they’d call security. One of the rules on infiltration I’d learned from Elyd Haught’s datachit.

There were so many checks in the Starport. First, the security checkpoint on the concourse, which I’d avoided. Some cab companies had started logging their passengers as a protection against Sith spies, and I couldn’t take the chance on getting a more lax driver. That was why I was here, making my way to a turbolift for maintenance personnel. It may have been the same one I’d ridden to escape, but it was probably just a similar corridor. The starport was huge. It probably had a lot of maintenance corridors and turbolifts.

A short descent later, followed by a few twists and turns out of another set of service corridors, found me entering a recreational promenade. Several patio tables were set out here, occupied by the customers of an overpriced starport bar. Droids waddled about with trays of drinks and food, bending at the waist to place them on tables. One of them approached me.

"Greetings, and welcome to the Terrace Can–" I flashed the droid an apologetic wave and walked away at speed. Without a cab, it was a four hour trip to my destination. A part of me wondered if this level of paranoia was worth it. Was there still an active warrant out for my arrest after three years? Were my parents still looking for me, or had they declared me legally dead, assuming their daughter had succumbed to her disease on some backwater outpost?

I sighed. Those thoughts wouldn’t do me any good. I wasn’t about to spend the next few hours focusing on negatives. Think positive, I told myself. The Force is with you.

////////////////////

The bank clerk leaned forward over his desk to get a better look at my legs as I sat down across from him. I grimaced under my hood. The legs were great – I loved them, really – but they were not designed for simple uses like sitting in chairs or idling. They were meant for speed and stabilization.

"My apologies," said the clerk, an ancient looking human man, as he slid back into his chair and raised his eyes to meet mine. "What was the account number again?"

"BC-MC18219-CA," I repeated, having memorized it from my datapad earlier.

The clerk plugged some commands into his console and squinted at the results. "I’m showing a loan… for medical services, under the name Andreus Casuzu. Pardon me, but you don’t seem to be Andreus."

"I’m not," I said.

"Are you his wife, Mattea Casuzu?"

"Nope."

The clerk scrolled down his list. "Then, are you his daughter, Vi–"

"I’m… a charitable third party." I didn’t want anybody connecting me with this payment if I could avoid it, so it would be best if I never came up in the conversation.

The clerk nodded. "It’s quite irregular to–"

I threw a credit chit on his desk. "That’s… thirty thousand credits."

"…Typically we only accept payments in smaller–"

"With the authorization code of the Jedi Order." It wasn’t quite a lie. These were the credits Thelion had paid out to me, and they had his authorization code. As long as the bank didn’t look too closely, it would seem like a charitable donation from the Jedi Order.

Yet the clerk still hesitated. He looked from me, to the credits, to his console, and then back to me.

"I should get my manager," he said.

Kriff.

I leaned forward, trying as hard as I could not to pause, as I said, "You don’t need to do that. I assure you this… is all above board."

One pause is better than two, I thought to myself.

There was a long few minutes where the clerk typed silently on his terminal, and I figured he was looking up the regulations for something like this. Finally, he groaned.

"I… suppose I can accept the payment, since it’s a charitable donation from the Jedi. But it’s still irregular."

I stood up and offered my hand, which he took. “Expect to see me again,” I said. "I’ll be bringing more payments over time."

"Yes, of course… thank you for choosing the Galactic Bank of Coruscant."

I turned to walk away, but then stopped, craning my head around to look back at the clerk. "By the way… what’s the balance on the account?"

"Erm…" The clerk re-opened the information he’d just been in the process of closing. "With your contribution of 30,000 credits… the remaining balance on account BC-MC18219-CA is 489,329 credits."

Barely a dent. I sighed. "Thank you."

I left Coruscant the way I came, and hoped that no record of my presence had been recorded. I’d hate to have to explain to anyone why I was here, and why I had to be so sneaky about it.

Another day of shuttle rides, and I’d be back on Viscara, where I’d continue my training, and continue raising money toward the insanely high medical bills I’d left behind in my wake.

I threw myself against the pillar, springboarding off it and along the wall just like Sandra had shown me. After a few weeks of practice, it was coming so naturally that I didn’t need to think about it anymore. But, I figured it was best to do what Vilnia said about Soresu: do it until you feel like you’re meditating.

So I did. It was hard to not think about the way my body moved, especially since I had to account for my legs. They felt surprisingly natural, but even though my body had adjusted, my mind wasn’t quite there. My mental image of myself still had those cheap stick legs. It’d take time and practice to get past that.

I ran down the wall, legs brushing against its scarred surface just enough to guide my descent. I still felt myself making minute adjustments, and watching the wall to try to predict where my feet should fall.

Maybe it was time to fall back on my usual method.

Once I landed, I took off out of the building, sprinting at maximum speed over the bridge and around the rear of the temple. When I reached the cobbled section outside the main doors, I dropped to the ground and did twenty pushups. There was nobody out at the fire, since we were under lockdown – again. With the guards out here, though, I wasn’t worried about assassins. I’d have at least some warning. And, I was probably faster than anyone who would try to kill me. Worst case scenario, I would just sprint all the way to Aerlson’s Rest and fly my ship into low orbit.

After the pushups, I shot back to my feet. My metal soles clacked against the boards of the bridge as I crossed it again, followed by the rush of wind and rustle of leaves as I zig-zagged through the trees. Back into the ruined training hall, I tucked into a roll and sprung out of it toward the pillar. Perfect landing, then down the other side. Repeat.

It took four more laps before I started to get tired, but then it was easy to empty my head. Run. Jump. Descend. Pushups. Run. Jump. Descend. Pushups.

By the time exhaustion forced me to stop, I’d lost count of how many laps I’d done. It felt like hours had passed. I hobbled over to the stone arches on the other side of the trees and allowed myself to fall forward. The roll carried me up into a sitting position, and I started to meditate.

Today’s meditation focus… speed.

I felt like there was little else I could do to advance my understanding of the wall run, unless I really challenged myself and tried to Mynock-Guy my way across the rooftops of Veles. That was probably a bad idea, though. It sounded cool in theory, but if one of the Rangers spotted me, they’d probably assume I was an evil-doer and shoot me.

Maybe I could add some kind of verticality, or obstacles. It was fun to picture myself flipping over and sliding underneath things, I would have to ask someone more senior where I could go that wouldn’t have a temple guard or passing Knight yelling at me for being unsafe.

Actually, though… yes! I could ask someone to add an agility course north of Aerlson’s Rest! That whole area was undeveloped. There was plenty of room to build something I could really take advantage of. And not just me, either, but other Initiates. With a proper course, they could all go fast like me.

But would the higher-ups go for that idea? The Jedi seemed pretty unenthused about more advanced training, like they just expected it to happen on its own eventually. Shien? I thought, imitating Knight Althea with my metal voice. You just kind of pick that up eventually. Like one day you hold your saber backwards and there you go. Shien.

I decided to apply my meditative state toward making a mental list.

_
VOSCA

Pros:

  • She always pays attention to me.
  • She doesn’t think I’m stupid.
  • She’d probably see the benefit of an agility course.

Cons:

  • Wounded.
  • Distracted.
  • Would probably just ask a Thelion anyway.

_
THELION

Pros:

  • Would definitely see the benefit of an agility course.

Cons:

  • VERY wounded.
  • Would tell me not to rock the boat and that good things come in time.

_
SANDRA

Pros:

  • She really gets it!

Cons:

  • She’s kind of not a Jedi? Or is just a temporary Jedi? I really don’t get it.

_
PURU

Pros:

  • Is kinda nice.
  • Is pretty concerned with the wellbeing of Initiates.

Cons:

  • Will probably say what we have is good enough and I shouldn’t be greedy.

_
QYILISC

Pros:

  • Is a little nicer than Puru.
  • Likes practical training.

Cons:

  • Always busy.
  • I would need to find him first.

_
ALTHEA and SHERIDAN

Pros:

  • Real go-getters. Would probably argue on my behalf if I asked them to.

Cons:

  • I’ve only seen them twice each.

_
CALLISTA, ISKELLIA, TRISTAN, and THELION’S MOM

Pros:

  • ???

Cons:

  • Basically cryptids. Do they even exist or did I hallucinate them in a post-surgical fugue?

_
Kriff. This was going to be harder than I thought.

I considered my options before I decided the best option would be not to ask. I’d just try more things and test my limits until somebody told me stop. Maybe they wouldn’t! Maybe they wanted me to show some ingenuity. Yeah, that’s the word. Ingenuity.

What could possibly go wrong?

It turns out a lot could go wrong.

Sand had gotten inside one of the servos for my left leg and literally mucked up the works, meaning it responded just slow enough to throw off my movements. I hadn’t packed enough water for the desert, and now my throat was bone dry. My side stung where I’d been injured in the fight with the dark abominations earlier, telling me it probably wasn’t as healed as I thought it was. But out of all those issues, none of them were the most immediate and pressing concern I had to deal with. That dubious honor belonged to–

"There she is!" called a voice, and another volley of blaster fire streaked by me, too close for comfort.

–the disgruntled band of thugs chasing me across the rooftops of Anchorhead.

This wasn’t quite an accident. If I was being perfectly honest, I’d fucked up. I was doing the agility training I’d decided to do, and knowing that Veles was too dangerous, I’d opted for the obviously safer option of Anchorhead. But then, I misjudged a jump across an alleyway and ended up crashing through a third floor window. Even then, it probably would’ve been fine if the floor had been occupied by a couple friendly Jawas who just wanted to oogle my shinies, or some old Wookiee grandather living his best life with dirty holovids.

But no. The third floor was being used by a gang, and they were in the middle of measuring spice from their latest deal when I… interrupted them. They were right to be angry! There they were, portioning their drugs for sale when all of a sudden this mysterious masked figure is in there with them. Everything is covered with glass, even the spice. Especially the spice. It was cheap stuff, but it’s still kinda hard to pick little glass shards out of something that’s known for being a little glittery in the right light.

So, I could give them the misunderstanding. But then they started shooting, and I took that personally.

I broke one guy’s hand with my training saber (deactivated of course) and kicked a second through a door. When they tried to jump me, I turned on my sabers and did a really cool spin move that sent them all sprawling. Then I went out the window and climbed to the roof.

But they’d been tracking me. Who could have known that a city with such gorgeous rooftops and an infamous criminal underbelly would see those criminals gravitate to the rooftops?

…Kay, maybe that one was also on me.

They weren’t as quick or as agile as me, but it was like they’d grown up making these jumps. They knew exactly where to go to cut me off, and exactly how much height to get before crossing a gap. Meanwhile, I’d think I’d found a straight shot back to the astroport, only to find myself at a dead end. Yeah, I could have slid down and sprinted down the street, but that would just make it easier to track me. Maybe. Probably. That’s what we’re going for.

I did another really cool move where I vaulted over an exhaust stack, tucked into a roll under a pipe, and then kicked off into the air between two clotheslines. The clothes rippled when I went by, which was super cinematic, but I didn’t allow myself to get caught up in that. I hit the ground running for what I thought was the next easy rooftop to leap to. Behind me, I could still hear blaster fire, but I couldn’t see any bolts flying by me at the moment.

All I had to do was lose them long enough to change out of my ninja costume and back into my Jedi robes, and I could get back on the shuttle and pretend this never happened. But it wasn’t to be. A shape rose up in front of me: a Gamorrean climbing a ladder, and wearing the same symbol on his jacket as the guys chasing me. He saw he sprinting toward him and grinned, reaching for his blaster. "Heeeyh dere, guuuuuurlhee–"

I dropped into a slide, my feet aiming outward, and my left leg slammed into his nose before he could finish his weird oinking sentence. His face fountained blood as he slid squealing down the ladder. By the time I got back on my feet, I’d lost my momentum, and the blaster fire came again. A couple shots came dangerously close to hitting me as someone yelled "That bitch kicked P’reak in the face! Get 'er!"

Kriffing rooftops.

I stopped trying to stand and slid down the ladder after the Gamorrean instead. Call it fate or whatever, but he was looking back up the ladder when I slammed into his nose a second time. He didn’t squeal again. Instead, he just passed out, falling to the ground with me on top of him, a dull groan escaping his throat.

I booked it right out there, zigging down one alley and zagging down another, until I came to a place I knew: a little side street just south of the astroport. I dropped to my knees, shedding my hastily assembled ninja garb and stuffing it into my bag while pulling out my Jedi garb at the same time. The ninja gear was all white (honestly, a bad idea for the desert), and stood out like a sore thumb. The chest and shoulder plates went into the bag first, followed by my padded undershirt. My sarashi wrap was loose, and I didn’t have time to fix it, so I just took it off and spooled that into the bag too. The replacement tunic I’d gotten from the temple didn’t have a giant hole in the side of them, so nobody would notice.

I put those on next, tying them off faster than I’d ever tied them before. Next came the pants. They were baggy enough that I could just pull them on over my cybernetics, which is what I usually did. I just hoped nobody would notice the flash of white through the hip slits and get suspicious. That was probably just paranoia, though. I doubted anyone would be taking a long look at my hips anytime soon.

Once I’d completed my colorswap, I tore ass down the main thoroughfare, bought a ticket on the next shuttle back to Veles, and finally let myself breathe. I was sweaty, sandy, and maybe a bit spicy, but the looks I got from the other passengers when I boarded were no worse than the ones they’d give any other weirdo they shared a flight with.

As the shuttle took off, I started brainstorming better, safer places to do my agility training. In hindsight, maybe Veles wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

//////////

Those with their ears to the ground in Anchorhead hear that the Iron Tooth gang is looking for a “Crazy Spice Ninja” and will pay a whopping 200 credits to whoever brings them definitive information on the ninja’s whereabouts. There are no concrete details about the ninja except that they’re probably female and they have big feet.