NationStates Jolt Archive

A small town. A nice little place to retire to, perhaps open a coffee shop... or it had seemed like it a day ago.

Gunfire erupted from a window, pinning a small form behind some rubble. "We got it trapped!" one shouted as fire came in from another direction. A single missile streaked towards the trapped person. It detonated and leveled the immediate area, but he was gone before it hit.

The little green man stood on top of the building the street gang was in. He could hear them whoop. They assummed he was dead. It takes more than pyromaniacs to kill me. he thought, as he silently made his way to a door and entered the building.

After two floors of stealth, he was spotted and a fierce gunfight ensued, ending with a thermal detonator blowing five gang members out a window. In the next room was his target. Opening the door, he looked around the medical bay. An R5 unit beeped at him and a medical droid merely got out of his way.

Stepping to a bedside, he smiled a bit. "Good evening..." Banak said, softly. The Jedi, which was barely concious on the bed, looked down at him in shock, the relief.

"Mastar Banak. You have come to..." she trailed off as he really saw Banak. His eyes... they were different somehow. His aura was darker than usual. "What happened to you?" she whispered, growing nervous.

"I finally got tired of the Jedi Academy's teachings. So I went looking for something different. And I found it." He ignited his saber. The brilliant red beam filled the room with pale light. Before she could say anything, it sprang out and pierced through her skull, killing the young woman instantly.

Banak walked out of the room, then made his way down to the street. With his saber still out, the gangs realized they were messing with a Sith, not just another hired killer. A few didn't get out if his way fast enough, though... They fell from lost limbs and blaster fire. Banak had been an odd Jedi Master. He was an even odder Sith Master.

He sensed something else in town. There was another Force Adept here. Leaping to a rooftop, he flicked the saber off and vanished into the shadows.

[whoever posts first gets the RP]

A dark figure sat perched upon a distant rooftop, unoticed, quietly observing the carnage which ensued below. The woman behind the gleeming eyes and black garb was named Felfeather, and she was Darth Forge's most promising young apprentice. The Dark Lord of The Crimson Sith had dispatched her to this distant land not three days earlier, in pursuit of the source of an increasing concentration of the Force which he had been recently sensing. Her orders were explicit, find the being which was so dramatically growing in power, and make contact with it. Gauge its intentions. If it recieved her well, she was to attempt an alliance. If not, it was to be destroyed. Darth Forge never did tolerate competition. A wicked little smile curled her lips. This one was not hard to find. Apparently unacustomed to the raw energy of the Dark Side, it had been ringing off like a siren, announcing its presence to all who could sense it. The first part of her task, at least, had been accomplished.

Felfeather chuckled to herself as she observed the ensuing massacre. The being apparently owned a light saber, and was furiously slashing this way and that, felling opponents who obviously had no chance against it. It took joy in the kill, this one. A factor which could prove problematic. She was surprised that it had been reduced to the use of a weapon as archane as light saber, it had apparently not mastered the use of the force itself to resolve such situations. She looked down at the being with growing scorn, but quickly realized that not all adepts had had the benefit of being trained by a true master of the force. At least, she thought, the being would be easily dispatched if it came to an eventual struggle between them. For indeed, it seemed to her, this thing was filled up with some kind of incesent need to do senseless violence to everyone and everything in its path. Though obviously of the dark side of the force, it could very well not take the time to listen to that which she had to say. Felfeather shrugged to herself. She wouldn't at all regret killing it if was necessary.

The struggle came to a sudden stop, and the being's head jerked in her general direction. Apparently, it had finally sensed her presence. It's light saber flicked off, and it swiftly disapeared into the shadows.
"Running are we? Where's your sense of adventure?" she whispered to herself.
"No matter my friend, I don't need to see you to follow you. Perhaps you don't know it yet, but I can feel you from thousands of miles away...."
Felfeather rose to her feet, and clasped her cloak around herself tightly. With a suttle movement, she lept from her perch, quietly landing in the street below. She croached low to the ground, and took in her surroundings. Then, with a sudden leap forward, she gave chase.

Bannak spun and sent a powerful wave in his wake, scattering many loose tiles and shingles into her path. He was the same race as Yoda(Damn you Lucas for not giving it a name!), but his small size belied his power, as did his anger.

He stopped moving for a moment, then lept up onto another rooftop that was in the sun. "Ah... a Sith. A powerful disciple as well." He was not standing like a fighter. He was standing like an instructor, appraising her. "Fine physical specimen. Tell me... who trained you?" He smirks, no fear coming from him. Some respect and wariness, but not fear. He was far too old to be afraid of an apprentice.

OOC: Meant this as a one on one RP. First one to post gets the other spot. Crimson got it. But your writing isn't bad. Just needs a bit more paragraphing.

Tiles and shingles flew in Felfeather's direction, the result of a force wave sent forth by the fleeing green creature. Some of the debris struck her, causing various cuts and scrapes and bruises, but they did not slow her down. It would take much more than shingles to phase a future Sith Lord.

The green one began to slow his pace, and finally stopped, jumping up to some remote rooftop, to taunt her no doubt. Felfeather closed the now small space between them, but chose not to ascend the shear wall of the building atop of which her apparent adversary was perched. No, she would allow him to feel safe and secure up on top of his building. Let him get comfortable. It would make him an easier opponent to kill.

As her heart slowed its beat, Felfeather began to feel a sharp, throbing pain in her upper thigh. Looking down, she realized that one of the shingles was deeply imbeded in her flesh. She let out a short, disgusted snort, and swiftly pulled the shingle free. As she looked back up at the green creature, blood began to slowly flow from her wound. She rolled her eyes. It was not the most classy first impression she would ever make, but it would have to suffice.

Seeming not to notice, or at least not to show that he noticed her discomfort, the creature addressed her in some strange tongue which she could barely decipher.

"Fine physical specimen. Tell me... who trained you?"

Felfeather allowed herself to frown at the little green man's audacity, secure in the knowledge that her brightly painted Qer'tu mask hid her face. He was an arrogant little thing, of that she was sure. She was unused to being spoken to in such a condescending manner, and though insulted, she was far beyond allowing her ego to be bruised. Forge had beat such reactions out of her long ago. He had taught her to identify arrogance for what it truly was; a weakness to be exploited. She tossed the shingle away, and put her gloved hand to her nose, inhailing deeply. She had always found the smell of blood to be extremely exilerating.

"I represent a power much greater than you," she replied in a low, melodious hiss of a voice.
"In addressing me, you address Him whom I represent. I would therefore recommend that you chose your words with care, my friend, for his is not a wrath which is to be trifaled with. It is currently not your place to ask, but to be told. It is not your time to speak, but to listen. Head my words, for I have been sent to judge you, and determin whether you are worthy of His grace."

"Oh... so you speak for your master. That is acceptable." The small creature wore the old Jedi Order style robes, but odd bulges here and there suggested an arsenal was under it. That or he was greatly deformed.

"That wound is a bit nasty. Best to get it treated soon." Walking slowly towards her, he smiled what seemed to be a genuine smile. "So, you will speak for your master and judge me." He chuckled. "That seems strange, considering how many Jedi I have trained in my years. But yes... My name is Bannak, former Jedi Master and instructor at the Yavin academy. I now serve the Sith Lord Barberous as an advisor and hunter."

He stopped speaking and tilted his head a bit. A tempting target for any blade, if she chose to attack. But he wasn't stupid. Very strange, but his eyes showed he had sense in his skull.

The green one came down from his perch, and approached her, perhaps testing her resolve. She stood her ground firmly, a Sith did not back away from any being, no matter how dangerous. As he approached, he spoke, and she listened attentively. Felfeather did not only listen to the words the being uttered, but his tone of voice, his heart rate, the way the force fluctuated with his sentences. She pondered the information he gave her, perhaps too willingly. He was sending her mixed signals, most probably intentionaly, masking his true intentions from her. It was to be expected. Any being of the dark side would do the same. Honesty was for a Jedi. He supplied her with two names, his own, and that of his master, Barberous. With this she was well pleased. A name was worth so much in this universe, it was often enough to hunt it's bearer down, no matter where he hid.

Felfeather placed a hand on her wound, and the area glowed dark red. She gave out a subtle hiss as the darkfire forced the wound closed. It was an old technique taught to her by the Fleshmongers of M'nad, quite painful, but effective on the battlefield, or anywhere else where one did not have the time to heal.

"As you see, my friend, I am more than capable of tending to such matters myself, though I thank you for your concern," she said in a flat, neutral tone of voice. No genuine gratitude, nor open scoff, let the green one draw his own conclusions...
"You say that you serve one named Barberous. If this is true, it is imperrative that you arrange for me an audience with him, for it is to the source that my own master sends me, and I would be failing him if I limited my contact to you."

Bannak squinted at the healed wound. "Hmm... that's one power I'll have to look into. The run of the mill heals don't cut it sometimes." He looked up at her, attention focussing on her words again. As she spoke, she could tell he was amused.

"Of course it is true. Lies only sour alliances. If Barberous wishes one later on and I have lied about who I served, that alliance would be more tenuous. An audience with Lord Barberous isn't something you just ask for, apprentice." Stepping away, he looked her over again, but in a different way. "So state your bussiness and it will get to Barberous. Otherwise, you get no audience."

Felfeather smirked behind her mask. Bannak's insistance on refering to her as an apprentice suggested some kind of inferiority complex on his part, or perhaps some idiotic, clingy attachment to titles and ranks. He felt himself to be her superior, that was sure. This small fact amused her to no end.

"I have nothing further to state to you, Bannak. The fact that you do have a lord makes prolonging this exchange irrelevant in the utmost. Inform your lord that Darth Forge has sent his feather to determin the character of further relations between our two orders. I shall wait 24 hours for his summons, and not a minute longer. So I suggest you make haste."

With a sudden movement Felfeather swept her cloak before her. In doing so she vanished, leaving a shower of black feathers floating down to the ground in her wake.

Bannak stared at the pile of feathers, thinking that little show rather wasteful, pointless and all around silly. "Is that this planet's hours or Courscant's or what?" He shrugged and walked to the edge of the building and lept down into the market, then simply walked to the small spaceport where his ship waited.

Climbing aboard and plopping into his seat, he tapped a control or two and smiled as a text link was connected. He relayed the message to Barberous' helmet display and awiated his reponse, that came mere moments later. This Darth Forge has no represenative at the meeting of the Sith Lords. Leave the system immediatly and meet with the cargo ship Meridian. Await orders there.

Bannak acknowledged and immediatly lifted the ship off the surface and shot upward.

--------

Hours later, another craft roared through the atmosphere, streamlined shape sending a ripple of sonic booms over the landscape as it descended. By the dark presence inside, it was the response she had asked for.

Landing in the same bay as the first ship, the landing ramp extended. Out stepped a cloaked figure, several inches taler than any other human in the docking area. Not paying the attendant any mind, he lept out of the bay and landed in the city. A deep voice boomed out, but most never heard it. Only those that were force sensative heard his words. Show yourself 'feather'. He wasn't Barberous, but the dark side seemed to consume allmost all of his 'aura'.