Tor dodged through the legs of the AT-RT and past the chainsaw of a second as he darted towards Patches and his shielded dais.
Tor drew the Force into him and let it shine from his very being, emitting a searing light of good that eroded the darkness surrounding his foes. He could sense his allies behind him, wary of the light shining from his body. Tor gritted his teeth as he felt the light burn inside him, eating away at his own darkness. He pushed through, not caring about his own well-being, but thinking of Platt and of stopping the evil that surrounded Bu’Cho’s lair.
The camaasi advanced towards the platform as one of the AT-RT pilots dropped under the searing light. Patches laughed, but could not erase the beads of sweat that began to run down his forehead.
Tor stepped off of the turbolift with the others, Patches and his minions defeated below. He led the group down the hall, sensing two lives ahead, one fading rapidly. No… Tor thought, thinking of how Bariss would react if they found Platt injured in any way.
The group burst through the door, weapons at the ready, only to see Platt sitting comfortably in a plush chair, a smoking golden blaster in her lap. Across from her, a body lay slumped in a lavish bed.
Tor froze for a moment, shocked at the situation. He ran to Platt. “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Your aunt sent us to find you, Bariss is on the way.” Tor’s eyes flashed from the blaster to the form in the bed as Platt asked about Bariss and explained what happened.
Tor moved to the bed and grimaced at the damage done to Bu’Cho. Blaster burns riddled his body as the fading clawdite gurgled painfully for breath. Tor put his hand on the gangster’s shoulder and tried to usher some form of calm over the wounded being, futilely calling for Carson. The human approached and shook his head as the clawdite’s labored breathing slowed and then stopped. Tor pulled the blanket over him and turned back to the group, seeing Bariss fawn over Platt, Khallic already at work trying to open a large vault door.
He walked to stand by Khallic, who had impressed him by using his innate talent with the Force to sense a large amount of slaves being held nearby. Tor helped the others free them as the vault door opened.
The others clustered around various objects and trinkets in the vault as Tor wandered the room. Then he saw it on a shelf. The holocron Kel Dandu had spoken of. Tor picked it up and activated it, a middle aged man appearing before him. A deep voice spoke and Tor’s eyes widened as the holocron’s gatekeeper identified itself as Master Dooku. This must be from well before he left the Order, Tor marveled. Back when he was one of the most respected Masters and swordsmen.
Tor pocketed the holocron with excitement but also with trepidation. I know where Dooku ended up, the camaasi thought. His teachings will always be highly regarded, but I must also tread lightly lest I also fall prey to the Stih.
Back at Exovar’s, the group received a transmission from the Resurgence. Master Denia explained the situation on Almas, Draco’s current hiding spot, and Tor felt a sense of dread edging into his mind with each new detail. The thought of the dark past that lay on Almas led Tor to question what he would find there. He was so lost in thought that he almost missed Admiral Varth taking over the comlink and saying that he needed some of the group to head coreward.
Tor looked at the faces of the others around him, not wanting to have to be separated from them. “I have to go to Almas,” the camaasi said. “I can’t pass up what knowledge might be there.”
“Tull goes with wizard.”
The barabel stepped next to Tor and thumped his chest. Tor was grateful for the barabel’s continued loyalty and his forceful spirit. He had high hopes for his new reptilian ally. Khallic also spoke up quickly, N3M0 stoic next to him, both in on the pursuit of Draco. Good, I’ll be able to keep my eye on him and start his training, Tor thought. Rama also volunteered for Almas, a move that Tor was unsure of the motives. Kelyn was the last, fire in his eyes as he mentioned Draco’s name.
Tor looked at Fenn, Bariss, and Carson. He gripped Fenn’s hand with a solemn nod. Tor spoke softly to Bariss. “Mind your emotions, Bariss,” he said to the Duros. “Don’t give in to your hate.”
Lastly, he stood before Carson. The man gave him a wry smile and Tor embraced him. The groups turned away from each other and boarded their ships. Tor gave one last look at the others before they left, wondering if he would ever see them again.