Celedon

The trio entered the room, causing Cameron to take a closer look at the man strapped on the table. Jaina seemed distressed at the site, ignoring his question and instead approaching the man slowly. Cameron held back near the door and looked to the hallway. So far, they remained alone. Jaina and Tirzah conferred with each other about the man. He was this Tares they had been looking for. Judging by the man's current state, they were too late. He looked deader than a dead bolt. Somehow, Cameron found himself carrying the feet of the man as Jaina decided to make a break for the hanger bay. Stealing a shuttle wasn't a terrible idea, except for the loads of security that were bound to be in place. He was fairly sure a few anti-air placements would also make things difficult. Cameron quickly felt the sweat forming down his arms under the weight of the man. The man had a tattered business suit on which hid the bulk of his frame. They slowly took his corpse out of the room and moved to the hanger. The hanger was full of security. A few shuttles sat idly around with a couple guards stationed at the base of each one. Cameron waited for Jaina to leap into the blurry, saber fueled action she had displayed before, but she remained stationary in their cover. "Any bright ideas, Vortex?" She asked the corpse. Cameron sighed and looked around. The closest shuttle was only a few feet away. The guards had their backs turned to them. They had the element of surprise. "I have one." Cameron stated, "If you can lift or throw your friend towards that shuttle, I would do that." He finished while raising his rifle. "It's time to go." Two blaster bolts rang out of his rifle and flew into the backs of the soldiers. A couple more stray bolts unintentionally followed into the back of the hanger. Cameron watched the rest of the guards leap into attention before moving from their cover and towards the open ramp of the nearby shuttle....

Cameron felt a harsh tug against his shoulder that propelled him back into the room. The rifle in his hands flew away and ended with a loud clunk. A blur of motion swept his vision that vaguely looked like Jaina. A flash of her lightsaber erupted in the doorframe before disappearing into the hall. Screams from the living security guards mixed with the sound of metal melting into slag. “Everyone okay?” She asked once the commotion had died down. “...we should move on.” Cameron got to his feet and searched for the blaster he had taken before. The tower was no doubt on full alert, which meant they would run into more security at some point. He eventually found the rifle then joined the other two outside of the hallway. Jaina led them down the corridor. Cameron looked over the pile of metal and body parts Jaina’s saber had left. He had to step carefully over the debris to keep himself from tripping. Eventually, Jaina arrived at a bulkhead and stopped. A loud “no” rang out from her direction and she began to slash at the door control with her lit lightsaber. Smoke began to rise from the panel from the molten trails the saber left. Cameron approached the door while looking around for signs of trouble. Suddenly, the door hissed open and the action stopped. He took a few steps forward and moved in front of Jaina. The doorway was wide open. Peering in, he caught sight of a man strapped to a vertical bed frame. The man looked lifeless, slumped into his restraints with his eyes closed. His hair looked to be a similar shade to his. “Is that your friend?” Cameron asked….

Battle droids. It had to be battle droid. This was the reason Cameron should have refused the whole thing: Jaina’s deal, breaking into a military installation, all of it. His short life would quickly be over by the fire from a mindless automaton. When the chaos erupted in the once quiet, sterile room, Cameron immediately took cover behind a table to avoid the stray blaster fire. The droids immediately reacted to Jaina’s defensive presence. She moved with a blurred sense of purpose. Each step was meaningful. He almost lost his head just trying to peer beyond his protective barrier. And then, it was all over. Jaina let out a scream and three bolts hit their mark. Once the silent returned, Cameron allowed a few beats to pass. Nothing. Even the alarm klaxons had gone silent, leaving only the flashing red hue. Tirzah was walled off in a hole. Jaina had collapsed onto the floor. In a weird way, he felt alone in the room. This was his chance. A quick dash to the door. He could find a ventilation hatch to escape out. Once he was out of the tower, he could slip into the evening crowds and try for the spaceport on the morning. What about the other two? Could he leave them? Yes. This wasn't his fight. He was smarter than this. He didn't even know if Jaina was alive. What about Tirzah? She could escape. No. She'd slow him down. She'd stick out and draw attention. He had to go alone. Ducking out from behind the now battered table, Cameron stood up and looked around the room. He eyed the door, then checked the floor where Jaina had fallen. Her eyes were open but sliding under an invisible weight. She slowly heaved to draw in her breaths. A small column of smoke rose from her abdomen. She was finished. It was time to go. Cameron took several steps forward until he was parallel with Jaina. He wasn't making the dashed he had hoped for. He drew another step forward and then stopped once more. What was wrong? “Sith spit.” He muttered under his breath. His gaze shifted from the door to the breadth of the room. Eventually, he caught sight of some medical supplies he proceeded to grab on autopilot. Then he dashed down to the floor near Jaina’s side. The first aid container flew open under his light press. Bacta patches flew all over the floor. His hands reached out for the few that landed within his short span. He had been in this situation before: frantically covering fresh wounds with something, anything to control the damage. During his first months alone on Acrid, back when his survival instincts were more direct and danger, he had learned how to cover the cuts, hide the wounds. With the same frantic pace, he slapped patch after patch onto Jaina’s wounds. The columns of smoke ceased and dissolved into the air. “No, you can't fall asleep.” He said with a broken tone. He pressed with a greater force against the wounds to accent his words. Whether he liked it or not, Jaina was the only chance they had of making it out alive. He dragged himself a half body length across the floor over to one of the battle droids and grabbed a blaster. The barrel was still comfortably warm. Worming his way back to Jaina’s side, he clutched the blaster and looked down at her, “We need to get out of here. More security guards are on the way. When they get here, we are dead.” Crouching onto his feet, Cameron slung the blaster around his shoulder, then grabbed onto Jaina’s forearm. He began to push against the floor in an attempt to slide Jaina up from his position. His small frame strained under the tension. “Help me!” He screamed behind him towards Tirzah direction. The effort proved to be futile. The force he yanked with nearly sent him flying onto his back when his grip finally gave out. Catching his footing, he impulsively yelled, “Damn it, get up!” The momentum carried him all the way to the main door of the room. The metal shell slid open into the hallway, releasing a series of staccato, artificial steps pressing against the floor. He turned to see a line of battle droids clad in heavy arm approaching. A periodic white storm trooper moved on the opposite side. Cameron brought his rifle into his grip once more and knelt down against the door frame. The weapon was heavy, but the press of the trigger was surprisingly effortless. Red bolts began to spray out into the direction of the security forces without much aim. His worst fear had become a reality. Death was coming in a tight, blaster resistant formation down the hall.

Their time spent inside the tower felt like a wild chase. As he fell in line behind Jaina, it seemed as if each twist and turn was random. A part of Cameron even doubted if she knew what she was doing. The interior of the tower was stale and barren. The surfaces of the walls were spotless. The ceiling had nothing but the periodic light that unnaturally lit the halls. It was a stark contrast to the dirty, almost ruined environment outside. They eventually arrived at a locked door. Jaina seemed to be lost in thought. She stood and observed the door lock. She could possibly hack into it, but Cameron assumed that would likely trigger an alarm. Where there was an alarm, there would be troops soon after. She would have to give up. Accept the fate of her friend and move on, that would be best. His nose crinkled in disappointment as she moved from the locked door towards another. This door was unlocked. Jaina proceeded through and then stopped short of the room's center. Cameron followed, unable to see the interior unlit he managed to squeeze past the other occupants. "What is this place? What do you know?" Jaina asked. It took a few seconds for Cameron to realize she was speaking to him. He had no answer, nor reason for why Jaina would be asking him. The room was sterile, far cleaner than anything Cameron had ever seen. The dirt on his arms seemed to stick out against the white backdrop. It was all foreign to him. Jaina acted like he should be able to comment like a tour guide. "What do you mean? You're the supposed doctor. Shouldn't you know what this stuff is?" He asked. Before either of them could continue the conversation, the white in the room became bathed in red. An alarm klaxon began to ring out through the halls. Cameron looked around and back towards the door, "What did you touch?" He asked over the piercing noise....

Cameron tried to peek through the breaks between the guards as he squeaked along with the song. The song was one a few he knew off the top of his head. Fighting for scraps each day and night didn't leave much time to learn the latest galactic crazes in music. Instead, he had to settle on a song that loosely referred to dogs being let loose (who, who, who, who, who?). It wasn't authentic, but since the guards only spoke Basic, Cameron felt confident it would do the job. The mob began to draw closer to his position while he sang. He eventually lost sight of Jaina behind the guard perimeter. Tirzah was out of his visual field, which meant he was alone for the time being. He kept singing, hoping one of the local gypsies wouldn't call him out on his performance. A few of the locals joined in with some gentle movements. One dancing individual caught his eye; a figure wearing the same torn robes he had given Jaina earlier. She was swirling back towards the main crowd, trying not to draw any suspicion from the guards. It's done, let's go. A voice rang through his head. The voice sounded like Jaina's, but it lacked any source of direction in his mind. It simply echoed, invading the inner privacy of his mind. He broke and paused from the song for a moment, then quickly regained his composure. A quick glance at the gate confirmed Jaina's mental statement: she had succeeded. After finishing the song, he blended back into the crowd and found the shrouded forms of Jaina and Tirzah. The two looked like carbon copies of each other, albeit with a noticeable difference in height. Cameron motioned for the two to follow and began navigating through the cracks in the crowd. Eventually, they came to the other side of the guard gate. The mass of people had drawn the guards closer to the other side, leaving a small gap open between the physical barriers to squeeze through. He took one last look, then made a run for the primary opening in the tower. The journey was a short dash, no more than a few seconds. As he neared the entrance, he took a brief glance back to confirm the guards were still occupied. Then he entered. Once everyone was inside, he tossed the robes aside with an ambitious haste, "Okay, I've done my part. Now it's your turn. Where do we find this friend of yours?" He asked....

Cameron wasn't exactly sure how to respond to Jaina’s audible doubts of the plan. In truth, he wasn't sure if the plan was going to work. It was the best he could do on short notice, especially given his current predicament, not that more time would have made a difference on breaking into an Imperial tower. As usual, however, failure wasn't an option. He wasn't going to die dressed in blankets. The group followed the perimeter of the tower. Over time, a faint rhythm began to echo around the surrounding walls. The rhythm gradually grew louder as they traced the edge to a clearing in the thick urban infrastructure. Cameron came to a sudden before the edge gave way to the giant opening. He positioned himself so the others could clearly see the action happening in the square. A crowd of people had gathered. Large open flames rose up in the center of the square with throngs of dancers circling around. Several soldiers clad in the Empire’s signature white armor stood in the crowd, sticking out like dots in a mix of natural tones. Cameron pointed over to the far side of the square. A series of force fields hummed in the dim light attended by two guards. “That's where we need to go. If we distract the guards, one of us can operate the gate controls.” He said. Without waiting for a reply, Cameron entered into the crowd and slipped through the moving mass. His small stature had some advantages at times. After a couple of moments, he arrived to the outer edge of the crowd. He stopped for one final check in, “Okay, someone needs to dance. I’ll sing. The third one finds the controls. Go!” Cameron slowly walked out from the mass and approached the two gate guards. In an angelic, high pitched tone he began to sing, “Ah ah ah ah pu wohs god roop eht llac eht ot dnopser slrig eht dna. Oy, iy, eippiy, nillac eman eht trats, sallef eht llet i. Oy, iy, eippiy, oh, hah llab a 'nivah ydobyreve dna. Oy, iy, eippiy, yeh 'nipmub saw ytrap eht, ecin saw ytrap eht nehw….”

His town. He wished the statement wasn’t true, but deep down he knew it otherwise. Whether he liked it or not, this could be advantageous. “Oh, I do have a plan, but you’re probably not going to like it.” Cameron said with a subtle point on his cheek. He began to lead the pair through the streets in the direction he had sworn to avoid at all costs. At first, he remained silent in contemplation. The odds of his success seemed to continue to dwindle with each step. You will survive this. He thought to himself. Eventually, they came to a part of the main avenue where the streets broke into a network of side alleys. Moving into one of the alleys, he began to feel at ease once more. There was more protection in these alleys; more places to hide or run if necessary. By now, the sun had completely set. Only a few faint bulbs provided the dim light he had used to navigate so many nights before this one. It was enough to get by… usually. “The security around the city center tends to be heavier than in other parts of the city. Local security forces and soldiers from the Imperial garrison mix together. Most people try to avoid the area.” Cameron began to explain. The most probable scenario was they’d be stopped on site by a guard. None of them had any ID on hand, which meant they would have to get creative. “The only people the guards seem to show any affection towards, if you can call it that, are the local gypsies.” Cameron continued, “They tend to perform daily rituals the soldiers find entertaining. The rituals are sacred to the gypsies, but they don’t mind a laugh or two if it leads to a few extra coins in their pockets.” They eventually arrived to a small clearing in the dense network of buildings. A few individual market stands remained open in the twilight hours. One of them had a varied assortment of clothing and attire hanging from large racks on the side. Cameron approached the stand and began thumbing through one of the racks. “These will help us blend in more.” He said while throwing some robes towards his travel companions, “Put these on, head to toe. Don’t let your face appear.” Before he started to put his own robe on, a thought entered into Cameron’s mind. The slight smile painted on his face widened. “Oh, I forgot to ask. Can either of you sing and dance?” He asked....

"Being stuck on this planet would be preferable to being a corpse on the street." Cameron replied as Jaina hastily jumped into action. He remained in place while she found a nearby speeder to "borrow." He was becoming more and more convinced that the pair weren't any sort of undercover agents or evil Force users. What she had in mind would call attention to half of the local security forces who were separate from the Imperial presence. No, this pair weren't undercover... they just had a death wish. The daughter, Tirzah, looked to hesitate for a moment to think. Then she obediently followed her mother into the waiting speeder. "Well, are you coming?" Jaina asked. Cameron looked them over. Two tourists sitting in an unattended four-seat speeder. Two tourists ready to rush into an unknown, hostile situation. "Who do you think you are?" Cameron finally remarked, still firmly in his place. "You come here, to a planet you know nothing about, with the big idea to go play hero? Without any plan? Or information? You're nuts." He finally began walking forward towards the speeder. Before he reached the smooth, dirt crusted side of the transport, he stopped and knelt down. His hand reached out and dug deep into the sand. Then, with a clutched fist, he stood up and held a strip of bacta into view. "You Jedi earn your reputation around here. Yeah, don't think I didn't notice that little device you have on your belt. Naive, self-centered, only caring about your way of doing things. You want to run into Imp territory, with your daughter, in a stolen vehicle local security forces will no doubt start tracking, all while bleeding all over the place? That's your great plan?" He said. He should have just made a break for it. Part ways, find someplace to stay over the night, then try the spaceport again in the morning. Unfortunately, if things went south at the Regional Tower, which they probably would, everything would be in lock down by morning. Best case scenario would be having to wait until things cleared up. Worst case, he'd be caught long before that happened. "You might be my only ticket of this rock right now, but I'm your only hope of any possibility of success. You want to do this? Fine. You want my help? We do it my way. Otherwise, I'll be sure to pay my respects in the morning when your corpses are strung up in the city square for everyone to see...."

Cameron listened with genuine intent as the woman described their reasons for coming to Acrid. They sounded authentic, at least on the surface. The boy didn't have any reason not to trust the duo. On the other hand, not trusting random strangers had gotten him this far. No trusting anyone had gotten him this far. As they walked, Cameron looked around at the street. As night slowly crept up, the foot traffic began to thin out. Even though the woman had released her grip on him, escape would still be too difficult. Normally, he trusted himself to outrun a mother towing along a blind daughter, but something was obviously different about the two. The woman seemed to have a way of knowing things without reason. Like she could read minds or something. Cameron didn't know of any humanoid species that had telepathic abilities. Then again, he didn't know of many humanoid species outside of what he had seen on Acrid. Then there was the metallic cylinder the woman had clipped on her belt. Cameron had never seen one in person, but he had seen even holovids to know the sight of a lightsaber. He had seen a brief glimpse of the object wave through the woman's attire as they had started to walk. She was obviously a Force user, possibly a Sith or Dark Jedi if they had come all the way out to a planet with an Imperial presence. Regardless, Cameron knew these two could be dangerous. "I'm Jaina, by the way, and this is my daughter Tirzah." The woman said. Cameron hesitated to reply in kind. He wasn't in the official databases on the planet as far as he knew. Nothing could lead this Jaina to knowing his brush with the local authorities. Still, he needed to keep his guard up. "People around here call me Celedon." He replied. The woman's story did make sense in one spot: random shuttles with military markings were a constant occurrence on Acrid. There were other small and private spaceports besides the primary port, but only one had the traffic that arrived and departed like clockwork. It was also the same location he had come from on Acrid. A location he swore never to return to. "If your friend was brought here on a shuttle, he was taken to the Regional Tower near the city's center. It's an Imperial facility... or renegade Imperial, no one really knows." He began to explain. This new bit of information complicated matters. Going back to the city center on foot was dangerous enough. Sticking around on Acrid was dangerous. On the off chance this Jaina was telling the truth about taking him off the planet, the risks might pay off. But, returning to the Regional Tower was a death sentence. "Your friend is probably dead by now." He continued, "No one who goes in there comes out. All the locals avoid even the surrounding areas. If you go there, they'll just kill you and your daughter. Count me out if that is the plan." He finished....

Cameron noticed the woman's posture change. Her grip on his wrist softened even more, even though it still felt firm and unyielding. Her eyes flickered with the sparkle of the planet's setting sun. She was acting weird, which was never a good sign from a stranger. Finally, she asked, "Does the name Drake Vortex mean anything to you?" The boy barely gave the name a thought. It sounded foreign to his ears. Both names individually and put together were foreign. More importantly, the woman's reason for asking the question was a mystery. "No, should it?" He asked coarsely. The name most likely belonged to the friend they were searching for on the planet. But with a population as large as Acrid's, it was almost impossible he would have come across their friend. If the duo was truly looking for someone, they'd have to start someplace other than asking a random kid off the street. Things hadn't escalated yet, and so far, Cameron remained out of harms way. He knew the pair of strangers weren't trustworthy, but without any other options, he would have to settle. Their search presented him with an opportunity. "Fine, if you want my help, I can help." He finally relented, "But I'm going to need my hand back. And I'll need more than just 'a friend brought here against his will.' You're describing half of the planet's underworld population." He commented....

Cameron had known his ploy had likely been doomed to fail. If anything, he had hoped it would have offered enough confusion for the woman to loosen her grip for a getaway. As he currently observed, however, this was not the case. He remained silent, refusing to offer up his name or any information that could identify him. The girl obviously wasn't a part of the local authorities, but the women was old enough. He knew some security officers would dress to blend in. Somehow, the woman saw right through the lie. He could try to press on with it. The girl seemed convinced, maybe that would be enough. He just needed to get free. The crowd was thick enough to escape into its morphing, dynamic maze. He just needed his chance. "If you help me..." The woman continued to speak, "I'll take you anywhere in this kriffing galaxy you want to go." The space port was no longer an option, at least for now. Going back to his hole was out of the question. Even the tram stations would be shut down before he could reach another location of the city. He'd have to either walk all night, which was almost suicide, or find somewhere to take shelter. The options weren't good. "How do I know you won't sell me into slavery or something?" He asked to stall, "My parents taught me not to trust 'doctors' running around with little kids on this planet." Nightfall was closing in on the street around them. Somehow, the rest of the foot traffic seemed to pass by without notice. "Where do you want to go anyway?" He asked....

Cameron stuck to the sides of the main avenue as he walked towards the spaceport. He had only ventured out this way once or twice during the few years he had been on Acrid. The spaceport was heavily patrolled due to the constant traffic on and off the planet. Up until the previous day, Cameron hadn't done anything to put himself on the local authority’s radar, but even the sight of an orphaned child would have raised suspicion. His current predicament had escalated his fears of being spotted. He didn't know if the authorities were actively seeking him yet, but it wasn't time to start taking chances. The main avenue was filled with a seemingly endless stream of speeder and foot traffic. The lack of secondary routes forced much of the traffic through the tiny space. Beings of various species hug the walls as the speeders took up several nonexistent lanes. It gave Cameron enough cover to blend into the larger groups without getting lost. As he walked, he attempted to recall the bits and pieces of the spaceport’s layout he had seen from the outside. The plan was simple in theory: stowaway on a freighter or shuttle. He didn't have the luxury of picking a destination, but he figured he'd take care of that step once he reached it. One step ahead was all he had most days, if he was lucky. The real problem would be getting through the main entrance. The security lines forced the masses into single, neat, and slow lines before entering into the main building. He had heard other locals describe the security measures before: a few scans and bag checks with a facial recognition scan unless, according to rumor, you had the right security agent and bribe. The facial scan would do him in unless the rumors were true. He would need some money. Thankfully, he had pickpocketed enough times to feel comfortable with this task. In the past, when his legitimate ventures had hit a dry spell, the occasional “run in” with a random bystander had been his preferred strategy before outright stealing food from the local market. Having something go wrong with a stranger was a lot easier to deal with than the local shop owners. The trick was finding the right mark. Tourists were the easiest, followed by the more seedy strangers that frequented Acrid’s less popular areas. His eyes scanned around the pedestrian lane as he walked. He had to focus on the bystanders heading in the opposite direction. It was too dangerous to hit a mark from behind when their common direction would be the spaceport. Cameron would need any advantage he could get. His search was turning out to be fruitless until he was a pair of humans walking towards him. An adult woman trailed by a girl close to his age. Both were dressed in clothing that seemed to blend in with the local surroundings, but were too clean and new to be of Acrid’s typical local population. Most common locals could only afford pieces of clothing, never a whole wardrobe. The pair began to close the distance with Cameron. The woman was the obvious target. The other kids Cameron had stolen from in the past had only carried enough credits for scraps. The woman was probably the girl’s mother. If they were tourists, she would probably have their credits handy. The distance continued to shrink. The woman lacked any kind of bag. He would have to search for pockets or a belt during the few seconds he would have to inspect before taking action. A few brief moments passed before Cameron could see the details of his two targets. The girl seemed strange; her eyes were as white as milk. At first, Cameron thought she might be blinded, which would make the job even easier. But the girl moved through the crowds without issue or aid. As the woman moved, he noticed a brief glimpse of a pocket peer through the swinging fabric. He had his final target. The remaining seconds drained away with speed before he finally acted. Moving naturally to avoid suspicion, he pointed himself into a parallel course offset from their direction. Then, with only a second left, he dragged one foot against a rock to feign a trip. Stumbling over, he tumbled into the pair and put all his weight onto the woman. As he struggled to find his footing, his hand immediately reached for the pocket. His feet flopped while his fingers took ahold of a metal cylinder. He clutched down and then forced himself away. “Sorry.” He said as he attempted to move passed while palming the cylinder. After taking a few steps, he felt his momentum cease with the touch of a smooth hand. The grip was light but somehow unyielding. He turned around to look while forcing his weight in the opposite direction. The woman was facing him with her hand firmly on his wrist. He pulled once more, then looked down to eye his potential bounty. The metal cylinder was nothing more than a comm unit. The reward was no longer worth the risk. More importantly, he was quickly running out of options with each fruitless yank against the woman’s unnatural hold. Finally, he decided to deploy his last resort. The tears began to flow down his cheeks. His vision blurred in salty water and his voice cracked around forced strain, “I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! I'm only trying to find some money to feed my dying sister. She’s all I have… please just let me go!”

Cameron had made a mistake. The incident in the square with the shopkeeper hadn't gone according to plan. His aim hadn't been true enough to its mark. After overhearing some locals talk about the incident, he had learned that the shopkeeper was still alive. Although heavily injuried, a few bystanders had came in to provide life sustaining measures until the proper authorities arrived. It was now only a matter of time. The shopkeeper would come back. A day or two, maybe a few weeks or a month, it didn't really matter. He knew Cameron's face. It was probably sealed into his memory by now. Cameron had come to him many times before he had gotten desperate enough to steal from him. The only hope for salvation Cameron had had died with the shopkeeper's survival. It was only a matter of time. The trouble wasn't even worth the goods he had stolen. Yes, he needed to eat, but not at the expense of his life. It was a short term gain with a long term consequence he couldn't pay for. He had gone hungry for days on end before. He should have known better. Now, everything changed. To survive, he needed to move. The literal hole in the wall he called "home" had become too familiar anyway. The locals, including the shopkeeper, knew him. It made it more difficult to steal from them when necessary. Not from an emotional point of view, merely from a practical one. Normally, he made enough offering various services around the area, but when business was slow, he had to improvise. He had learned long ago that the more people who recognized him, the harder it was to get away with the things he needed. It was time to move on. Unfortunately, all of the local trams to other areas of the city were under constant guard. If his scene in the market had left witnesses, they may have his description by now. One of the many draw backs of being his size and age: he was easily recognizable. Staying on the planet didn't seem like a safe option. He could try the space port instead. It was guarded as well, but the foot traffic was greater than the local tram stations. There would be more people and buildings to weave through. With any luck, he'd be able to hideaway on a departing freighter or shuttle without being noticed. He would lose his familiar ground, but he knew he could adapt to new surroundings. He had done it once before. With his mind made up, Cameron gently stepped out of the opening of the space he had called home and walked through the alleyway. The sound of an inbound shuttle rang across the stone of the walls, prompting him to briefly look up at the sky. The shuttle was headed in the same direction he had originally escaped from: the Tower. It was a direction he hadn't ventured in since. Instead, he took a turn at the end of the alley and began to proceed toward the space port....

Nothing seemed to register in his mind while in a full sprint. He had been in this state countless times before. The surroundings became a blur. The sounds quieted while the light almost darkened under the long strides of his gate. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through every square inch of his arms and legs. His body felt energized, as if it wanted to go forward without question. He knew this state well because it had kept him alive time after time during his few years on Acrid. He was small, weak compared to those he normally stole from. Running had become one of the only tools he could use to his advantage. Being small, knowing the layout of his surroundings, it all gave him an advantage to this endeavour. Typically, he would have his escape route planned in advance. Depending on the time of day, he could use the crowds as a speed trap for his pursuers. The nooks and crannies of the nearby buildings would also offer him some hidden protection should the streets be too dangerous. Today, unfortunately, his plan hadn’t panned out as intended. His lack of attention to his surroundings had also provided a small challenge in the form of impacting a half way he had failed to see. On his back, winded from the direct blow of the duracrete against his chest, Cameron’s hands struggled to support himself off of the ground. His awareness of his surroundings had immediately returned and warned him of a series of approaching footsteps. The beat of the steps was quick and hurried. They could only belong to his pursuer. The streets were too empty today to make use of the crowds. The buildings were too uniform and new to duck into a damaged crack. This time would be one of those rare occasions where he had to stand up and fight. Thankfully, he had one more tool up his sleeve to try. Once his hands had finally found the stability he needed to get himself up, he quickly turned into the direction of the footsteps. The sound was echoing off of a duracrete corner in the street. From the corner, his pursuer revealed himself. A large Gamorrean slid out from behind the building’s support wall and turned to Cameron’s direction. The Gamorrean was a shopkeeper; one of the decent ones on Acrid. He was a grocer mainly. Even though Cameron didn’t speak his language, the Gamorrean had always gave him a warm grunt anytime Cameron had passed along his typical morning route. Now, however, the Gamorrean’s grunts lacked the gentle tone he had greets Cameron with many times before. There was a pain in his squeals, almost as if he was reeling from the betrayal Cameron had committed. Cameron’s next betrayal would no doubt make matters even worse. As the Gamorrean closed the distance, Cameron made it up to his feet and braced his posture for the inevitable confrontation. One hand slowly rose up to the opposite sleeve and grasped the handle of his concealed means of escape. The Gamorrean finally stopped and grabbed Cameron by the shoulders. A flurry of grunts and squeals erupted from the Gamorrean. Wasting no time to attempt to decipher the meaning of the Gamorrean’s communication, Cameron instead remained silent and rigid against the force of the shopkeeper’s grip. The Gamorrean pulled him in close, which prompted Cameron into action. Now at eye level, Cameron took the hidden dagger and swept outward with his hand. The smooth edge of the vibroblade caught the chunky flesh of the Gamorrean’s neck with little resistance. A squeal at a pitch Cameron hadn’t heard before punctuated his release to the ground. Landing on his feet, Cameron immediately strafed to the side and once again entered into a long sprint. The orchestral march of the Gamorrean’s screams slowly died down as Cameron continued to run. Several minutes passed after the sounds had died down. Cameron continued to push himself in his sprint. His hand clutched onto the dagger, no dripping in the Gamorrean’s blood. After a few more minutes, his legs finally gave out, forcing him into a dead stop in an unattended alleyway. His grabs connected with his face and brushed aside the stray lines of blood that had landed on his skin. Looking down, he made sure the blood didn’t belong to him. Different smell, different color, it wasn’t his. Removing his pouch from his shoulder, Cameron knelt down to take stock of his stolen contents. There were only a few edible items he had managed to grab in the short series of steps to steal his meal: a couple pieces of fruit and some bread. Tonight’s dinner would be on the lighter side….

CAMERON CREEL'S CHARACTER SHEET Identity Real Name: Cameron Creel A.K.A: Celedon Homeworld: Acrid Species: Human Physical Description Age: 8 (physically 12) Height: 5’ 3” Weight: 110 lbs Hair: Silver Eyes: Blue Sex: Male Equipment Clothing or Armor: Common street cloths Weapon: Small holdout blaster Cameron usually keeps tucked away. Common Inventory: Nothing but scraps Faction Information Force Sensitive Alignment: Neutral Current Faction Affiliation: None Current Faction Rank: None History Force Side: None Trained by: N/A Trained who: N/A Known Skills: N/A Background Cameron remembers his first few moments of life in a tube, filled with liquid that distorted the view outside. Starting out as a clone, based on the DNA of Drake Vortex, Cameron was created as a perfect carbon copy. This much he knows. That was eight years ago. Something went wrong the process. While he didn’t feel any different or defective, his creators labeled him as such. There was an issue with the accelerated aging process. Instead of speeding the process up, it slowed it down. By the time he had reached the age of 11, his growth stopped. He became frozen in time. That was six years ago. For some reason - one which alludes him - his purpose for being created was never realized. Those who made him simply abandoned him on the streets of Acrid. No reason given, no help offered. He was left to himself to survive. That was also six years ago. In that time, he has fought to survive in any way he could. Stealing, begging, even the rare occasion for violence hasn’t been out of the question. Despite his small size, he’s learned to turn his shortcomings into advantages most marks don’t recognize until it’s too late. Making a small name for himself on Acrid, he’s adopted the name of Celedon when dealing with strangers.