Nar Shadaa. Though not a forest, it was a good hunting ground for other pursuits. Imagine Jheryth's surprise when he noticed a Jedi doing a bad job of skulking into an abandoned warehouse in the industrial sector of Nar Shadaa. He had his crew scout the place, and discovered that it is highly likely to be an SIS outpost. If there was any place to find the information he needed, an SIS database would be a gold mine.
He pulled out his old Jedi robes, setting his look in meticulous order, donning his old attire like an old hat. He walked with purpose to the warehouse, striding in through the front door past two sentries posted on either side of the door. The looked at him as he passed, uncertain but holding their position.
He was halfway across the the warehouse, having a clear view of the main room, along with a a couple of operatives sitting at makeshift desks, between Jheryth and the control room doors. Jheryth cleared most of the expanse of discarded boxes, and that's when he noticed the young Jedi picking at a piece of thread on her robe, sitting on a box near one of the desks.
Her head snapped up, her brown eyes opening wide in realization of what he was. Jheryth force jumped to the furthest guard, drawing his sabre in mid-flight, igniting the blade as he landed, running the guard through. Following the flow he already set up in his mind moments before, reached out with the Force and pulled the other guard off his feet and flung him into the blade of a fork-lift in the corner, before the young padawan even ignited her blade.
He smiled at her, noting the determined look on her face, as well as the gripping fear she was feeling. He stalked her, moving slowly around the desk, blocking one of the boxes she lifted off the floor and hurled at him. Jheryth smiled as he cut through another box thrown at him. The girl had strength, but obviously no real combat training.
He feinted to one side, watched her take the bait as he sidestepped her swing, moving in under her defense, pulling her to him with one hand as he thrust his saber through her chest, staring into her eyes as her defeat registered, her plea voiceless on her lips as she went limp in his arms.
Jheryth laid her down gently, turning as he heard the hiss of a smoke bomb, and a few blaster shots, heralding the entrance of his associates. Aven stepped over the downed sentries, making his way to Jheryth at a quick walk, "Communications have been neutralized, but secondary security systems are still online, my lord."
Jheryth growled as he tried the control panel buttons, getting no response. He tapped his ear comm, "Decker, can you get these doors open?" A female voice answered, "I think....um...yeah, um...no.The penthouse suite is not open today." Growling, he stood there, drawing in the Force, focusing on the doors, willing his anger and passion for the information he desired pull on the door, willing it out of it's secured position.
With the doors groaning against his onslaught, they suddenly flew open, a Jedi flying out at him with a flurry of sabre swings. Jheryth reacted with the instincts of the Force, blocking each one. Jheryth grinned as he reacted, trading block for block, cut for cut, enjoying the feel of this Jedi as he can sense the emotional turmoil coming from him. Jheryth reveled every moment of it, admiring the Jedi's skill, and the moment he was searching for came.
Jheryth moved to the side, the Jedi's swing barely missing him, as he got into his space, around his arm, bringing his sabre up and cutting through the Jedi's sabre hilt, the sabre sparking, spinning to deliver an elbow to his face, knocking the Jedi down, standing over him, the killing blow poised at his neck.
And then Jheryth heard it. It was barely perceptible, and louder than an avalanche. A heartbeat, not his own.
He stood there, looking down on the fallen Jedi, his own master drifting intangibly in a corner, telling him to finish him. His thumb moved, the sabre's blade winking out. The fallen Jedi looked quickly from Jheryth to the other companion's shocked faces, scurried to his feet and out the door.
"My lord, are you alright?" Jheryth barely registered Aven's question, too busy staring down at his own trembling hands. Taking stock of the situation, he was aware of his breath coming in ragged waves. He closed his hands into fists, knuckles showing white, to keep them from shaking, "FIND HER! I want that data file NOW!"
7/29/2013
7/28/2013
Picking Up the Pieces, cont'd
Ping, ping, ping.
Aittera sat in the corner of the Devious Hope's medbay, watching Selus sleep in the kolto tank. She'd tried to go to bed, but somehow, laying there in silence was worse than the faint, consistent beeping of the monitor that tracked his life signs.
Ping, ping, ping.
In four years of service to the Republic in SIS, she never once disobeyed a direct order. Hell, for that matter, she'd never taken a life out of vengeance or even anger. She'd been an effective enough assassin when the assignment called for it, but she'd believed that she was working for the greater good. Before tonight, she would have thought it impossible and absurd to think that she could just take a life in cold blood.
And now, it hung in the air around her in silent accusation, punctuated by the soft, steady tones of the monitor.
She pulled her knees up and folded her arms atop them to let her head drop against them as tears welled up in her eyes again, the fight playing once more through her mind. She'd heard Rasos's order. She stepped forward to use the handle of her blaster to knock the Sith out.
And then, she saw Selus's body in the snow. Ping, ping, ping.
Denial had been her armor and practically her way of life for so long, it might have continued to come easily enough in that moment for her to complete their assignment. Why didn't it? Just a few more minutes of that false sense of emotional fortitude that convinced her that she felt nothing more than friendship and gratitude for the idiot who'd refused to let her run away.
Ping, ping, ping.
While she'd expected Rasos's anger and a swift boot out of UI, what really delivered the cold smack of reality was the accusation that she and Selus were together. Faced with the truth of the feelings she'd been firmly in denial of, with the evidence of her actions staring her in the face, she couldn't deny it further. She couldn't even find words to argue.
Ping, ping, ping.
He'd been right. And now, she was forced out of the safe haven of her denial and into this vulnerable, bright light of reality. She could no longer cling to the love she had for a man who's death she'd never faced.
Ping, ping, ping.
When Selus had tracked her to the cantina on that little rinky dink moon, he'd said he knew she was a runner the moment he met her. He'd been right. She'd been running since the day Davin Vael died. Even then, she had the opportunity to act in vengeance and kill her CO, but she didn't have it in her, no matter how angry she was or how much she believed he was solely responsible for the death of her fiancee and two other extremely competent agents. She'd just left, disillusioned with the agency that had been her home for as long as she cared to remember. She wanted to be dead with her partner and lover. Instead, she ran.
Ping, ping, ping.
In fact, there was a part of her that was whispering, even as she spilt tear after tear born of guilt and regret, that it would be easy to just go to the bridge and plot a course for some place far away from Universal Investigations and this colossal screw-up. It was like a little siren song that promised a new descent into denial with all the alcohol necessary to forget everything.
Ping, ping, ping.
Aittera sat in the corner of the Devious Hope's medbay, watching Selus sleep in the kolto tank. She'd tried to go to bed, but somehow, laying there in silence was worse than the faint, consistent beeping of the monitor that tracked his life signs.
Ping, ping, ping.
In four years of service to the Republic in SIS, she never once disobeyed a direct order. Hell, for that matter, she'd never taken a life out of vengeance or even anger. She'd been an effective enough assassin when the assignment called for it, but she'd believed that she was working for the greater good. Before tonight, she would have thought it impossible and absurd to think that she could just take a life in cold blood.
And now, it hung in the air around her in silent accusation, punctuated by the soft, steady tones of the monitor.
She pulled her knees up and folded her arms atop them to let her head drop against them as tears welled up in her eyes again, the fight playing once more through her mind. She'd heard Rasos's order. She stepped forward to use the handle of her blaster to knock the Sith out.
And then, she saw Selus's body in the snow. Ping, ping, ping.
Denial had been her armor and practically her way of life for so long, it might have continued to come easily enough in that moment for her to complete their assignment. Why didn't it? Just a few more minutes of that false sense of emotional fortitude that convinced her that she felt nothing more than friendship and gratitude for the idiot who'd refused to let her run away.
Ping, ping, ping.
While she'd expected Rasos's anger and a swift boot out of UI, what really delivered the cold smack of reality was the accusation that she and Selus were together. Faced with the truth of the feelings she'd been firmly in denial of, with the evidence of her actions staring her in the face, she couldn't deny it further. She couldn't even find words to argue.
Ping, ping, ping.
He'd been right. And now, she was forced out of the safe haven of her denial and into this vulnerable, bright light of reality. She could no longer cling to the love she had for a man who's death she'd never faced.
Ping, ping, ping.
When Selus had tracked her to the cantina on that little rinky dink moon, he'd said he knew she was a runner the moment he met her. He'd been right. She'd been running since the day Davin Vael died. Even then, she had the opportunity to act in vengeance and kill her CO, but she didn't have it in her, no matter how angry she was or how much she believed he was solely responsible for the death of her fiancee and two other extremely competent agents. She'd just left, disillusioned with the agency that had been her home for as long as she cared to remember. She wanted to be dead with her partner and lover. Instead, she ran.
Ping, ping, ping.
In fact, there was a part of her that was whispering, even as she spilt tear after tear born of guilt and regret, that it would be easy to just go to the bridge and plot a course for some place far away from Universal Investigations and this colossal screw-up. It was like a little siren song that promised a new descent into denial with all the alcohol necessary to forget everything.
Ping, ping, ping.
7/26/2013
Picking Up the Pieces, part 2
Jheryth opened his eyes calmly and sat up in bed, the covers sliding down his bare chest to pool in his lap. He cocked his head slightly, feeling out with the force. Nothing stood out at him. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He looked at the clock on his nightstand, glaring at him a time some 3 hours before daybreak. Something woke him up. He could not sense any reason for it and sighed. Disappointing he thought to himself, as recalling the last thing he remembered before waking up was 'her'.
The image of her face, the scent of her body, the feel of her against him, was all he could think about. He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly and took stock of his emotions. He shrugged his shoulders, and releasing yet another breath, threw the covers off and swung his feet off the bed, placing them on the soft rug that spread out from under his bed. He knew, with her image now fixed in his mind, sleep was no longer going to happen today.
He made his way to the closet, pulling out his mediation robe and padded across the floor, through his bedroom and into his meditation room. He set about the meticulous placement of incense, music and kneeling mat. He brushed his robe outward, allowing him mobility to sit down, breathing in the serenity.
"Power is Knowledge, Knowledge has no sides.
Without emotion, there is emptiness.
Without passion, there is no life.
There is no death, there is only the Force.
In battle, there is the Force.
While I am worthy, defeating my enemies gives me strength.
May I be defeated by hands more worthy than my own."
The image of her face, the scent of her body, the feel of her against him, was all he could think about. He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly and took stock of his emotions. He shrugged his shoulders, and releasing yet another breath, threw the covers off and swung his feet off the bed, placing them on the soft rug that spread out from under his bed. He knew, with her image now fixed in his mind, sleep was no longer going to happen today.
He made his way to the closet, pulling out his mediation robe and padded across the floor, through his bedroom and into his meditation room. He set about the meticulous placement of incense, music and kneeling mat. He brushed his robe outward, allowing him mobility to sit down, breathing in the serenity.
"Power is Knowledge, Knowledge has no sides.
Without emotion, there is emptiness.
Without passion, there is no life.
There is no death, there is only the Force.
In battle, there is the Force.
While I am worthy, defeating my enemies gives me strength.
May I be defeated by hands more worthy than my own."
7/25/2013
Picking Up the Pieces...
"Damnit, Brixen, they're still in there!"
Aittera was sitting up in the bed in her quarters on the Devious Hope, her breaths coming in rapid succession as her vision cleared and the nightmare faded away. The protocol droid was standing in the doorway, and it took her a moment to realize she must have shouted in her sleep about the same time she realized her head was throbbing. With a groan, she winced and fell back against the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut.
"What?" she snapped at the droid, a little more irritated than she meant it.
"Master Selus instructed me to administer this," the droid patiently explained. "It is a hangover remedy." She lifted one eyelid very, very carefully until she could see the steaming cup in C2-X4's hand.
"I'm fine," she responded, waving him away. "Just get me something for a headache." The droid didn't move.
"Master Selus instructed me to tell you that if you refuse, I am to contact him to return immediately to - forgive me, Master - force it down your throat." The tremor in the droid's metallic voice would have made her laugh under other circumstances.
"Fine!" She sat up again and held her hand out toward it, and the droid crossed the room to place the cup in her hand. "What'd I tell you about calling me master, you annoying piece of tin?"
"My apologies, Captain Badass."
"When is Selus expected back?" Even with a hangover, the droid's answer struck her as satisfyingly funny.
"Some time this evening, Captain Badass."
"Good. Now, go away." She brought the rim of the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip as X4 left her room and the door slid shut behind it. The concoction was surprisingly sweet in spite of its foul odor, and she nursed it for a few more minutes.
Gingerly, she pulled the covers back and swung her feet over the side of the bed, but the 'remedy' was already doing its work as the expected wave of nausea didn't come. She took another drink from the cup before setting it down on the side table and slipped off of the bed to her knees, turning to bend down and look beneath it. She reached for a floor panel a little further under the bed and pressed it down on one side until the opposite side rose enough to slip a finger beneath and remove it.
The strongbox waiting within lifted out easily, and she drew back to sit cross-legged on the floor with it in her lap, tapping in the security code and pressing her thumb to the identification screen. Once it popped open, she reached in to withdraw a small rectangular wallet and set it aside on the table next to the cup.
Once the strongbox was returned to its hiding place, she stood and walked over to the retractable sink to splash some water on her face, fending off the last remnants of sleep and the dream that came with it. The memories of her fiancee's last moments of life hung in the air around her like a thick fog, and she indulged just a few moments of reflection.
She'd managed to banish the nightmare of those final few minutes before, but the dreams had returned more vividly than ever.
It was Selus's fault, she told herself. He'd shown up in a little out of the way cantina she'd been resting (...hiding...) in. In the brief firefight with two bounty hunters that had tracked her to the cantina, she and Selus had acted in perfect synchronization as though they were merely extensions of each other. They were so connected in that moment, no longer individuals, and...
She let the thought die there. That was the moment she'd committed the ultimate sin - she'd forgotten that Davin Vael had ever existed. The dreams were her punishment. She'd promised to love him forever, and for that one careless moment, she'd forgotten her fiancee had ever existed.
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the sink back into its retracted position and walked over to the bedside table to pick up the wallet. At least one loose end from her subsequent drinking binge could be dealt with. The last thing she needed hanging over her was a Sith Lord's interest, whatever that interest turned out to be.
At the desk, she opened the wallet and withdrew an identification chip that she inserted into the computer. In minutes, she was finished with her message to Rasos, detailing everything that she knew about Jheryth Chrystopher. It really wasn't much. That was the whole point, of course. If she'd been able to do this on her own, she'd have never sought out Universal Investigations in the first place.
She was glad she had, though. Between keeping her busy with work and giving her new acquaintances and allies, she felt almost like a normal person living a reasonably normal life. The proverbial spy that came in from the cold. How cliche.
Aittera was sitting up in the bed in her quarters on the Devious Hope, her breaths coming in rapid succession as her vision cleared and the nightmare faded away. The protocol droid was standing in the doorway, and it took her a moment to realize she must have shouted in her sleep about the same time she realized her head was throbbing. With a groan, she winced and fell back against the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut.
"What?" she snapped at the droid, a little more irritated than she meant it.
"Master Selus instructed me to administer this," the droid patiently explained. "It is a hangover remedy." She lifted one eyelid very, very carefully until she could see the steaming cup in C2-X4's hand.
"I'm fine," she responded, waving him away. "Just get me something for a headache." The droid didn't move.
"Master Selus instructed me to tell you that if you refuse, I am to contact him to return immediately to - forgive me, Master - force it down your throat." The tremor in the droid's metallic voice would have made her laugh under other circumstances.
"Fine!" She sat up again and held her hand out toward it, and the droid crossed the room to place the cup in her hand. "What'd I tell you about calling me master, you annoying piece of tin?"
"My apologies, Captain Badass."
"When is Selus expected back?" Even with a hangover, the droid's answer struck her as satisfyingly funny.
"Some time this evening, Captain Badass."
"Good. Now, go away." She brought the rim of the cup to her lips and took a tentative sip as X4 left her room and the door slid shut behind it. The concoction was surprisingly sweet in spite of its foul odor, and she nursed it for a few more minutes.
Gingerly, she pulled the covers back and swung her feet over the side of the bed, but the 'remedy' was already doing its work as the expected wave of nausea didn't come. She took another drink from the cup before setting it down on the side table and slipped off of the bed to her knees, turning to bend down and look beneath it. She reached for a floor panel a little further under the bed and pressed it down on one side until the opposite side rose enough to slip a finger beneath and remove it.
The strongbox waiting within lifted out easily, and she drew back to sit cross-legged on the floor with it in her lap, tapping in the security code and pressing her thumb to the identification screen. Once it popped open, she reached in to withdraw a small rectangular wallet and set it aside on the table next to the cup.
Once the strongbox was returned to its hiding place, she stood and walked over to the retractable sink to splash some water on her face, fending off the last remnants of sleep and the dream that came with it. The memories of her fiancee's last moments of life hung in the air around her like a thick fog, and she indulged just a few moments of reflection.
She'd managed to banish the nightmare of those final few minutes before, but the dreams had returned more vividly than ever.
It was Selus's fault, she told herself. He'd shown up in a little out of the way cantina she'd been resting (...hiding...) in. In the brief firefight with two bounty hunters that had tracked her to the cantina, she and Selus had acted in perfect synchronization as though they were merely extensions of each other. They were so connected in that moment, no longer individuals, and...
She let the thought die there. That was the moment she'd committed the ultimate sin - she'd forgotten that Davin Vael had ever existed. The dreams were her punishment. She'd promised to love him forever, and for that one careless moment, she'd forgotten her fiancee had ever existed.
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the sink back into its retracted position and walked over to the bedside table to pick up the wallet. At least one loose end from her subsequent drinking binge could be dealt with. The last thing she needed hanging over her was a Sith Lord's interest, whatever that interest turned out to be.
At the desk, she opened the wallet and withdrew an identification chip that she inserted into the computer. In minutes, she was finished with her message to Rasos, detailing everything that she knew about Jheryth Chrystopher. It really wasn't much. That was the whole point, of course. If she'd been able to do this on her own, she'd have never sought out Universal Investigations in the first place.
She was glad she had, though. Between keeping her busy with work and giving her new acquaintances and allies, she felt almost like a normal person living a reasonably normal life. The proverbial spy that came in from the cold. How cliche.
7/12/2013
Overheard in a little Coruscant cafe
"It's not that I'm not grateful," the blue-haired rogue reiterated for what must have been the 15th time since the conversation had begun. "And yes, I owe you for that situation back on Ord Mantell--" She was cut off by the calm, even voice of the Mirialan sitting across the table from her.
"As much as you paint yourself the defiant, hardened criminal, we both know that the worst of your so-called crimes involve running supplies into warzones that keep the local civilians from starving." The Jedi was looking at her with the kind of reproachful smile that reminded Kel'ri of the way her mother used to look at her when she lied about sneaking out of the house to avoid her studies.
"Hey! There were banned items in those shipments," Kel'ri countered with a cocky grin. "People may need to eat, but the real credits in those runs came from alcohol."
"Which they used to trade with the local Republic troops for medical supplies and a host of other things? You won't even run weapons unless you're sure they're getting into the right hands." Lita wasn't letting her off the hook.
Kel'ri relented with a raised hand. "Fine! Fine. It's not like there isn't an upside to going legit. And you were right about the company, I guess. Everyone I've met so far seems..." she smirked playfully in pseudo-dramatic pause before finishing, "...like they've had their shots."
The Mirialan gave her a knowing grin. Since their friendship began a few years ago, Lita's uncanny ability to read people and inspire their best character traits had somehow grown on the smuggler. Kel'ri liked to tease the Jedi about her habit of 'picking up strays', but the truth was that she had been one of those strays. If it hadn't been for Lita's guidance, she probably would've fallen in with one of the gangs on Nar Shaddaa or worse, been strong-armed into some aspect of the pleasure industries that the smuggler's moon was notorious for.
"I still don't see how I can keep an eye on the kid, though," Kel'ri continued, getting back to the subject at hand. "She's on Coruscant at school most of the time, and you know I hate sitting around planetside on a Core World with nothing to do. What if I'm out on a run when they give her a job, and I can't get there to hold her hand?"
"She hardly requires hand-holding, but I do see your point." Lita conceded with a thoughtful nod. "The Council is extremely reluctant to pursue her Force training any further for now, but I've been considering finding a Jedi who might be able to take her as their padawan."
"Why not you?" The question seemed obvious, but Lita shook her head.
"She is already attached to me emotionally in such a way that I fear it would defeat the purpose," she explained. "When I found Tholata, she'd been living on her own for so long that gaining her trust so that she'd allow me to help her was not easy. I feel that she still sees me as a substitute for the family she lost, and the person to change that dynamic between us should be her - when she's ready."
Kel'ri picked at her plate while her friend spoke, then shrugged with a smart-assed smirk. "You lost me somewhere around 'purpose'. I think you don't take on padawans, because it would get in the way of your love life. How is life on The Maiden with Captain Dreamboat?"
The rest of lunch consisted of the usual banter between old friends; Kel'ri teasing her friend about what she insisted must be a sordid, hot affair with the captain she travelled with while Litessen countered by teasing right back about Kel'ri's short attention span for men and women alike. They parted with the usual promises to stay in touch and to get together again soon, as well as the less sincere promises to stay out of trouble. Neither of them ever could keep that promise.
"As much as you paint yourself the defiant, hardened criminal, we both know that the worst of your so-called crimes involve running supplies into warzones that keep the local civilians from starving." The Jedi was looking at her with the kind of reproachful smile that reminded Kel'ri of the way her mother used to look at her when she lied about sneaking out of the house to avoid her studies.
"Hey! There were banned items in those shipments," Kel'ri countered with a cocky grin. "People may need to eat, but the real credits in those runs came from alcohol."
"Which they used to trade with the local Republic troops for medical supplies and a host of other things? You won't even run weapons unless you're sure they're getting into the right hands." Lita wasn't letting her off the hook.
Kel'ri relented with a raised hand. "Fine! Fine. It's not like there isn't an upside to going legit. And you were right about the company, I guess. Everyone I've met so far seems..." she smirked playfully in pseudo-dramatic pause before finishing, "...like they've had their shots."
The Mirialan gave her a knowing grin. Since their friendship began a few years ago, Lita's uncanny ability to read people and inspire their best character traits had somehow grown on the smuggler. Kel'ri liked to tease the Jedi about her habit of 'picking up strays', but the truth was that she had been one of those strays. If it hadn't been for Lita's guidance, she probably would've fallen in with one of the gangs on Nar Shaddaa or worse, been strong-armed into some aspect of the pleasure industries that the smuggler's moon was notorious for.
"I still don't see how I can keep an eye on the kid, though," Kel'ri continued, getting back to the subject at hand. "She's on Coruscant at school most of the time, and you know I hate sitting around planetside on a Core World with nothing to do. What if I'm out on a run when they give her a job, and I can't get there to hold her hand?"
"She hardly requires hand-holding, but I do see your point." Lita conceded with a thoughtful nod. "The Council is extremely reluctant to pursue her Force training any further for now, but I've been considering finding a Jedi who might be able to take her as their padawan."
"Why not you?" The question seemed obvious, but Lita shook her head.
"She is already attached to me emotionally in such a way that I fear it would defeat the purpose," she explained. "When I found Tholata, she'd been living on her own for so long that gaining her trust so that she'd allow me to help her was not easy. I feel that she still sees me as a substitute for the family she lost, and the person to change that dynamic between us should be her - when she's ready."
Kel'ri picked at her plate while her friend spoke, then shrugged with a smart-assed smirk. "You lost me somewhere around 'purpose'. I think you don't take on padawans, because it would get in the way of your love life. How is life on The Maiden with Captain Dreamboat?"
The rest of lunch consisted of the usual banter between old friends; Kel'ri teasing her friend about what she insisted must be a sordid, hot affair with the captain she travelled with while Litessen countered by teasing right back about Kel'ri's short attention span for men and women alike. They parted with the usual promises to stay in touch and to get together again soon, as well as the less sincere promises to stay out of trouble. Neither of them ever could keep that promise.
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