Nightshift 29, Patient Library
There was music playing in the library.
The door was closed and shut, but music filtered out anyway. Inside, the room was lit with battery operated lanterns set on tables. The tables themselves had been moved and arranged into a U formation, one table horizontal in the center of the room with two tables parallel to one another set against its ends ( Read more... )
"We would need supplies like those," Qui-Gon agreed. "Anything else, like electronic parts," he wasn't sure about the specific names, but he still wanted to try to construct a commlink here if he could. "Medicine would also be useful, but I'm afraid I don't know what is counted as medicine here."
He paused and then went on. "We also need some answers. About Martin Landel. Why is he doing this? And how is he capable of doing what he does, taking all these people from all these places? "
Even from death? And how, it seemed, was this man behind the radio able to sit safe from the beast beyond the door, the beast even at his side which, while rotting and looking more a corpse than anything else, seemed content to merely lie there like some overgrown pet. While he didn't sense this man as a hole in the Force, he was still an oddity - something he hadn't ever encountered before in his long years as a Jedi Master.
There was no telling if this man would give him the answers he sought, but he had to ask while he had the chance. Anything at this point would help them better understand the enemy here and tell them what they might eventually go up against.
Reply
Granted, he detested the idea of using something so uncivilized, like a blade or firearms. But he was also practical, and he knew it was better to get a little blood on his hands if it meant staying alive and hopefully helping others along the way.
"As for medicine," he added, "I can't say I'm familiar with what's available around here, but anything that can be used for pain or disinfecting wounds would be a tremendous help, if you can manage it."
He frowned when Qui-Gon pressed for more answers. From what he understood, their benefactor hadn't come to share any information, and he certainly didn't want one of their only links to the outside world to grow irritated with them. Of course, he recognized his and Qui-Gon's priorities were vastly different anyway. While Obi-Wan was set on finding a way to escape, Qui-Gon was caught up in trying to understand every facet of Landel's, choosing to take such a heavy burden onto his own shoulders before trying to get in contact with the Council for reinforcements.
But Obi-Wan couldn't entirely blame his former Master for asking, and so he certainly wasn't going to stop him from trying - at least, not at the moment.
Reply
"You want meds, you want to hit the second floor. That's where they're kept, and you'll do better than the scraps and slips I've got on me now. As for answers.... Those aren't for sale. Sorry my friends, that's just how it is. But you'll never understand Marty's reasons, trust me. Just let it go and focus on the important things, hmm?"
He wet his lips and adopted a thoughtful expression. "Now tell me why you deserve something so dangerous as a gun."
Reply
"Defense, that's why," he replied. No shit.
They came out here, wasted time he could be looking for the sutra and Hakkai, managed to skirt around whatever-the-fuck-that-was in the Sun Room (and were going to have go back through on the way out) just for this?
Sanzo just smiled, the expression a mirthless one. There was a certain irony to all this, when he stepped back and looked at it.
Maybe the man before them was more like Landel than he realized. Sanzo didn't know Qui-Gon or the other man (Obi-Wan?), but the older patient seemed like the diplomatic type, smoothing over a rough situation when it needed it.
Too bad for them, he wasn't willing to let it drop just like that.
"So let me get this straight. You want us to basically help you take Landel down - or do it ourselves - yet you won't give us any information to go on in regards to what we're dealing with. Tther than a 'trust me'," said the monk. "That's not good enough. That's almost same kind of bullshit the Dayshift wants from us, to just 'take their word for it'. Do you really expect people to go blindly into this mess and not question any of it? Any information we can get seems pretty fucking important."
Motive had a lot to do with it. Even if the end result was the same - Landel with a bullet in his head - knowing as much about his enemy as he could was vital as hell. And he wasn't going to get his ass handed to him just because "Mr. Radio" wanted to keep playing his games.
There was also the matter of what he'd just told them: the information about the medicine wasn't as ground-breaking as he'd been expecting, especially considering the patients' movements throughout the building, it was bound to pop up.
And as for weapons? Well, he wasn't going to fucking beg for the right to carry a gun.
"Everyone deserves a chance to defend themselves. If you get off playing God and fucking with the patients, fine. I'm not playing your games."
Sanzo was of the mind to just leave and not waste his time further.
Reply
And answers weren't bought. They were just as important as being physically armed.
Qui-Gon didn't need to know Martin Landel's reasoning. What he did need to know was why he seemed to be slowly consuming the Force, why he was a hole in it.
How he could steal all these beings from all walks of life, of time. From death. Such answers were important whether or not his life was on the line.
The Jedi Master was about to press "Mr. Radio" about this when Sanzo suddenly spoke up, launching into a heated tirade against the other man. Being so close to the blond patient, Qui-Gon could feel the heat of his anger and frustration in the Force, like getting a bit too close to an open flame. Not that he could blame him. Qui-Gon might not have condoned how Sanzo said what he said, but there were most definitely parts of it that he agreed with what he was saying. Still, this was their best chance at getting armed for once; he'd have to do what he could to defuse the situation.
"We can't help the others or ourselves unless we're armed," Qui-Gon said mildly. He glanced at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had told him days ago that he would be searching for a way out - but that he wouldn't leave without his former Master. And Qui-Gon wouldn't leave unless the other patients were taken care of, and something had been done about Landel. "You appear to be capable of arming us physically and mentally. He was able to kidnap each and every one of us before. He can do it again unless we know more about what we're up against."
There was a chance that the man behind the Earthian radio didn't know. Or didn't care to share what he knew. But Qui-Gon supposed he'd at least try to reason with their ally...although calling him that was questionable as it was.
He glanced at Sanzo. "Sanzo does have a point," he went on. Qui-Gon's voice was level, words aimed to be calming than confrontational. While he couldn't get a read at all in the Force on the man sitting before them, he could get enough from Sanzo to sense that they were treading on thin ice. "All beings have a right to protect their own lives."
Reply
That's not to say he wouldn't have liked to know more. A part of him had been hoping for it, actually. But he knew that as long as they were at a disadvantage -- unarmed, with hardly any connection to the Force, and no way to get home -- there was little they could do to convince him otherwise. They were mere prisoners with nothing to offer in return. They were, in a sense, at this man's mercy, and if he didn't want to explain things, then the best course of action would be to take what he did offer, move on, and hope to find answers another way.
That's why he glanced at the two men beside him with a grim expression, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his eyebrows furrowed. Sanzo's reply had been foul-mouthed at worst, and tactless at best. And though Qui-Gon certainly had what it took to try to smooth things over and be logical about the whole affair, Obi-Wan sincerely hoped he wouldn't press the issue further if "Mr. Radio" once again refused his request for answers.
For now, he remained silent, but the look on his face said volumes.
Reply
He'd never promised answers.
"You boys don't ask the right questions, anyway. There are rules. Now if you want me to arm you, I can do it. But like I said - I've got to be able to give at least something to everyone who comes through that door. It's only fair. You made it here, you get your reward."
He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his dark hair, obviously growing agitated.
"Answers mean nothing here. Answers won't help you. Go looking for answers and you'll go mad, alright? And not the fun mad. You'll find yourselves pulled into a madness you've never imagined, where even your blood screams out in terror at the memory.
"Now either take what I am offering or let me know where you're headed next - I've got more coming."
Reply
Whether it was "up for sale" or not wasn't even the point. Apparently he needed them just as much to take Landel out, and as far as Sanzo saw it, arming them with actual information was just as much a weapon as a gun.
Sanzo started to bristle....
Reply
Reaching out, Qui-Gon discreetly laid his hand on Sanzo's elbow. He doubted he could actively influence the other patient; he might be angry, but he was hardly weak-willed and wouldn't be the type to be so easily influenced. Qui-Gon focused on keeping his voice neutral, calm.
Everyone had to be reasonable, even if they didn't get what they wanted. Or needed.
"We'll take what you can spare us," Qui-Gon said, removing his hand. "Thank you."
Reply
Fading wasn't even the right word, it felt more like it'd been drained right out of him.
Sanzo blinked. Something had just happened right then, and it wasn't a change of heart: he still didn't agree with how any of this was going down. He'd been downright pissed up until...
...Qui-Gon touched his elbow.
The monk turned his head just enough to look at Qui-Gon, somewhat suspiciously.
What the hell did you just do?
He didn't say it out loud; the look on his face was enough.
Reply
It seemed to do the trick, as the anger faded, and no harm was done. As stubborn as his former Master could be, he could certainly smooth things over when the situation called for it.
Managing a smile in spite of himself, he turned to "Mr. Radio" and gave a brief nod. "Yes, anything you can spare us will do. Seeing that our normal methods of self defense are unavailable to us, we'll take whatever we can to defend ourselves with."
Reply
"For the brave knights from beyond the stars," he went on, pulling out two knives from the darkness below his table. They were nearly identical, long and sharp and far more dangerous than stolen cutlery.
"And for our easily agitated friend... a little fire spitting demon of your own." A small revolver was displayed, followed by a single box of ammunition that boasted 50 reloads. "And I'll even sweeten the pot, seeing as I'm such a nice guy." A cigarette was set on top of the box of ammunition.
"Think you can defend yourselves with those?"
Reply
Qui-Gon took the knives in his hands, passing one to Obi-Wan. They shone in the light, the blades giving off silver gleams. They certainly looked like they meant business. Qui-Gon was more accustomed to using a lightsaber with more range and an entirely different blade, and would have to adjust to using a knife. But it was considerably more reliable than his Force abilities at the moment.
And the man behind the radio knew they weren't from Earth, knew they were Jedi. Or maybe he had a flare for just being dramatic. Qui-Gon flicked a curious glance at him, but could read nothing in his face.
"Yes," Qui-Gon said. He dipped his head in thanks. The device the man held out to Sanzo appeared to be some kind of hold-out blaster, small and compact and easy to conceal. The box he held out looked rather big to be carrying a power cell for the blaster. "Thank you."
Reply
The cigarette was another surprise. Outside of his servants, and maybe one or two patients here, Sanzo didn't think that many people knew he smoked. Or that it would was that newsworthy to go around at all.
The gun's make couldn't be a coincidence either.
"I'm not even going to ask how you knew," said Sanzo. No, he wasn't going to turn it down either. He took the gun and box, as well as the single cigarette.
Reply
Leave a comment