Seeking Truth

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Zaarek
Posts: 21
Joined: Thu Sep 20, 2018 3:18 pm

Seeking Truth

Post by Zaarek » Mon Dec 23, 2019 11:55 am

Majestic purple mountains painted the sprawling horizon. The air was cold and crisp, the ground glistened with morning dew. From atop one of the countless hills of the vast valley, Zarek meditated. Despite providing the background for a number of conflicts, the splendid landscape maintained an essence of peacefulness. Controlled breaths gathered the brisk air. As Zarek exhaled, his eyes fluttered open. He watched the condensed air from his lungs leave his nostrils and dissipate into the air. Harsh feelings had settled since his return to his former home. The life he had hoped to lead here had been altered, ultimately convincing him to leave the world that had been left in turmoil after decades of war.

His return had been imminent, though the series of events that would lead Zarek back teetered on the edge of irony, and perhaps justification. Nearly a year had passed since Fazza’s death, and the retired bounty hunter had been far from idle during that time. As he had come to learn of the nature of the Force, and trust it to guide him, Zarek found himself almost constantly on the move. From one place to the next, the Force had drawn him to accomplish its will. Most often this led him to those in need. Though he felt he could never atone for his past, the mystical energy had shown him he could at least try. Following the will of the Force had its own complications, and Zarek’s nature would not let him forget about the fateful events of the invasion of Dantooine. As he gazed upon the warming valley, he couldn’t help but relive the events that led to Fazza’s demise.

The video surveillance he had watched tenaciously instilled the affair into his memory. He knew every implicit detail. The battle, the arrival of the Imperial Shuttle, two Inquisitors stepping off and walking into the medcenter where Fazza had been treating the wounded. The recordings from within the medcenter had painted a more disturbing tale. Zarek quickly dismissed the images of the Imperial officer. The one that had accompanied the Inquisitors, and mercilessly executed the helpless, wounded soldiers and taken the butt of the pistol to Fazza’s head. They were cowards. Zarek knew this. However, seeing the images for himself had inspired a multitude of feelings. The impulse to act then had eventually faded, and Zarek had come to recognize it had been the will of the Force at work. As time passed, and the pain of loss had quieted its infusing melodies, Fazza’s former apprentice had come to terms with his passing. He did not, however, seek to forget.

Nearly a decade of bounty hunting had developed useful skills. Information gathering was at the forefront of these, a necessary capacity for any hunter. The time since that fateful day had kept him busy, his mind preoccupied often enough to prevent rash actions. Instead, he had coupled the skills he learned from his less honorable professions with his newfound capacity to feel the Force. A discipline that allowed him to begin the slow process of unmasking Fazza’s killer. While he had been able to identify the two Inquisitors from the surveillance footage, recent revelations had convinced him that they were not in fact the ones who executed him. One had recently perished, the Inquisitor known as Alhai, to which Zarek felt no remorse. The details of the execution had been grim, but he had learned, ultimately, that one reaps what one sows, and she had sown a career of murder and suffering.

Initially, tracking down Imperial troops from the battle on Dantooine had been arduos. Fate, or perhaps something bigger, had eventually led him to Nar Shaddaa. Though his reasons for being on the smuggler’s moon were unrelated, Zarek would stumble upon one of the troops who had been present on Dantooine nearly six months (at the time) prior. His initial anger was soon displaced after the confrontation, and he had come to pity the man. The former Imperial was ridden with guilt, content to waste away under the weight of a bottle in some backwater cantina. Perhaps by some sense of atonement, the man delivered a hoard of information. Zarek had assured him that he was the catalyst in righting the wrongs of the past. He left him with the hope that such a sentiment would bring some modicum of peace.

A series of winding trails, dead-ends, and setbacks provided little in regard to progress, and Zarek’s other priorities would eventually calm the fire that burned within him. Recent visits to the seedy town of Crescent Bay had however provided new revelations, and the former bounty hunter once again found himself on the trail of Fazza’s killer. Rumors of a falling out among the Inquisitorium had reached his ears, and Zarek hoped it would provide the necessary catalyst to finally uncover the truth. Arranging a meeting had not been easy, and he well knew the dangers of attempting to do so. Still, his search for truth and justice would not be halted by fear.

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