Culurien returns to Coruscant
Timeline: Circa 3,643 BBY, 10 ATC, starting game timeline
Culurien walked through the Coruscanti immigration terminals, staring at the city before her. Coruscant. City of cold steel and duracrete. City of life, amidst death. Millions of speeders, taxis and hover cars whizzed past. The spires and towers stood towering over her, like the bleached bones of a dead beast pointing to the sky. Behind them, the setting sun stained the buildings a fiery red hue… like the blood of those who had died here. She swallowed and stared, blinking away a stray tear. She had dreamed of this day… of her return. Somehow, it seemed fitting that her first mission from the Council would lead her here… birthplace, once home and the graveyard of two different lives.
Coruscant looked almost the same as it once had before the Sacking… the broken spires and bombed out ruins had been largely repaired. Still in many places, scaffolding rose far up into the sky, where construction continued.
Yet Culurien knew the ugly truth. The Jedi had abandoned these people in their greatest hour of need. She had abandoned them. Below the surface, the lower levels had become a living hell – a nightmare of crime, subterfuge and death, gangs having completely taken control. Her hands tightened on the balcony railing. The Republic’s resources were stretched thin… but did that make it right? For all those people who suffered and died in bitterness, she knew the answer. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Just because we cannot fix everything, does not mean we should stand by and watch. She smiled, grimly. The Force had brought her here for a reason. She was certain of it.
She looked back to see her Trandoshan friend, Covic take up a position behind her, folding his arms in distaste. No, he did not like cities… and how could she blame him? Coruscant felt like a cage to her. People stuffed inside, unable to escape as they were gunned down by criminals or scammed by one of the millions of con-artists who made their home here. It was funny. They were so different… yet she could share a part of herself with him that she could share with no one else. She looked back at the city briefly before turning away and walking toward the Senate Tower.
A figure waved to her in the distance. She stopped and squinted, then waved back, walking over to the Galactic Trade Office where the figure stood a few blocks away. It was a Republic trooper. Harpalyce.
“Glad ta’ see you didn’t get shot on the way,” she huffed. “Took you long enough.” Culurien shook her head.
“Unexpected circumstances delayed me.” She eyed the trooper as she downed something out of that hip flask she always carried with her. It looked brown and unsavory.
“Well,” Harpalyce said, wiping her mouth on her gloved hand. “I got someone for you ta meet. I’m assigning him to you. Protection, ya know. You’ll need it, if half the stories I’ve heard about you are true.” Culurien raised an eyebrow, indicating Covic, the Trandoshan following her.
“Covic, meet Harpalyce.” She eyed Harpalyce slyly. “An old friend, from the military.” Harpalyce raised her flask in a half-hearted salute at Covic, who nodded silently.
“Very nice. Still, I insist. You’ll need more than ‘one’ body guard anyway. Consider this my… personal favor – to prove how useful my company can be to you.” She crooked her finger and Culurien followed. There was no point in arguing with Harpalyce when she was determined like this.
They walked through the upper levels of the Coruscanti government sector until they came to a taxi terminal. Harpalyce promptly hopped inside and ordered the droid driver to the Old Galactic Market district. Culurien glanced around as they stepped out. A wave of déjà vu washed over her. She had walked some of these streets once… long ago…
Harpalyce sauntered out in front, leading the way to… Culurien started, realizing where they were going. She laid a hand on Harpalyce’s shoulder.
“Harp… you’ve set up in… Dealer’s Den?” Harpalyce turned around, looking up at her in surprise, red hair blowing in the wind that funneled between the buildings.
“Sure, what’s wrong with it?” Culurien said nothing, continuing to follow. She should have known. This was Harpalyce, after all. Covic walked in their wake a few meters away, eyeing the passersby out of his one good eye.
They came into Dealer’s Den. Harpalyce promptly walked up to the bar, ordering an ale. Culurien followed more slowly taking it all in, trying to control the surge of memories and emotions that assailed her. Raigus, her father, had worked here once, after being expelled from the Archives. How she missed him, still.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on the occupants around the cantina. It had been a seedy bar in her parent’s day. It looked even seedier now. Several merchant types sat in booths with other merchant types or mercs. Smugglers, gangsters… probably even a few crime lords filled out the rest of the tables. Toughs patrolled back and forth, making sure there were no ‘accidents.’ She sighed. No, very little had changed since she left. She took a seat at the bar beside Harp. Covic stood behind them, looking out of place, even in this cantina. Trandoshans were not a common sight on Coruscant. A few gave him glares or sideways looks. He ignored them.
“So, who is this person, Harp.” Harpalyce winked at her as she downed half her ale at one go.
“Just wait, you’ll see. I’ll give you a hint. He’s a trooper.” Culurien looked around the room, trying to pick out possible candidates.
“A trooper…” she squinted, feeling out the room with the Force as her eyes adjusted to the light. She smiled wryly to herself. “That’s not much of a hint, Harp. I have known a lot of troopers…” Her eyes fell on a man of medium build, dark hair and beard. He was surrounded by what looked like six women and a small group of men, talking in whispers and laughing uproariously at something he was saying. A couple dozen drinks sat empty in front of them. She raised an eyebrow and nudged Harpalyce, pointing.
“Is that him?” Harpalyce swiveled in her seat, following Culurien’s hand. Seeing him, she promptly blanched, swallowed nervously and downed the rest of her ale, slamming the glass on the bar. She tugged on Culurien’s arm, half pulling her across the cantina, into one of the private rooms. She looked back nervously. Culurien raised an eyebrow. She had never seen Harpalyce actually grow pale. Not even in combat.
“What was that all about?” Harpalyce glanced at her askance.
“Hmm? What?” she gave Culurien a dumb look.
“Oh,” Harpalyce said, a bit too nonchalantly. “That was Telran. I’d avoid him. He’s a bit odd. Now,” she brightened, noticeably. Culurien wondered if the ale had anything to do with it. “This way please,” she shooed Culurien into the room. In the back, a trooper stood up. His helmet was pulled off and lay on the table, beside his drink. He saluted Harpalyce as she walked over. Culurien gasped, recognizing him.
“Zyrath!” she said, folding her arms and looking him over, “I did not expect to see you here.” A dark-skinned zabrak, he looked just the same as he had when she met him years ago on that infamous mission to the Outer Rim with Master Veed. Zyrath saluted smartly and smiled.
“It’s good to see you again, Master Jedi. Congratulations on your Knighthood.” Culurien bowed her head in thanks.
“I hear I am to be assigned to you…” Zyrath looked at Harpalyce, who was solemnly munching on a ration bar she had produced from somewhere. She looked up.
“Oh yes! Zyrath, Culurien needs protection. There’ve been a few assassination attempts, I hear. And Sith will no doubt be involved, what with her meddling. And gangster types.” She shook a finger under his nose. “Keep her away from those gangster types. Don’t let her get conned.” Culurien could not help smiling. Harpalyce acted as if she had spent all her life locked up on some noblemen’s manor. While that could be said of many Jedi, it was not true of her…
“Of course, Lieutenant.” Harpalyce rolled her eyes.
“No need ta be so formal with me, you big oaf.”
As Zyrath pried from Harpalyce the few last particulars of his mission detail, Culurien stood by, listening fondly to the two of them. The tension she had felt ever since landing on Coruscant began to melt away. She not only had Covic. She would have an old friend at her back. Someone she really trusted.
Her mind drifted back to another zabrak she had known in her childhood days on Coruscant… Mol Deg. She chuckled softly. The comparison was absurd. Though a soldier, Mol Deg had been nothing like Zyrath. Yet even so, this almost felt like coming home again. She studied Zyrath’s face as he turned back to her, grinning.
“I’m glad it worked out this way. It’ll be fun. Like old times.” Culurien nodded and grinned back.
