A Celebration of Sorts

[Darth Tak]

And there he was. Tak. Sitting. Thinking. meditating. Knowing. Sensing. And as he thought all of these things, he practiced. A Fire lit up in his arm, attracting a small crowd of numerous civilians that will never ever make it to the top or anywhere close. And he knew they where there, which was perfectly fine. But then he got up. Noticing. Seeing. Observing. Detailing. He used a lot of words in his mind, but not much of them mean something different then that of common speaking. He walked off. Leg after leg. Moving. Energising. Transporting. And as he thought all of these things, Kefali Oura, normally just called Oura, returned with the Diastimas, Their ship.

Spoiler: New Appearance

And as she walked out, she was almost showing off, as she just got Sith Tattoos. As she approached Tak, she smirked. "So you got those Tattoos you said you wanted. Congratulations." "It may have been expensive, but it was worth it."

((A Docking Station at Nar Shaddaa))

 

[Harbinger]

Harbinger loved and loathed Nar Shadda for the very existance of his current career choice. Several times he'd decided to just go to the moon for a little while, scrounge up some decent work as hired muscle to keep his body in repairs. That was a millennium ago or more now, and the last ten years had seen him in the outer rim chasing those who would need to run so far and so deep to hide. As a Shard he was uniquely suited to long standing hunts for his prey, being able to simply outwait any living being from behind his rifle made life easy most times.

Tonight was no different, he had taken up residence for the evening on the radio control tower for the local starport, and as always had his eyes and ears scattered amongst the port. Camera's and all manner of imperial and left over recording devices, funneled him up to date intel aswell as a good view of the surroundings without having to move. He had been following one fellow for a while now, he was a strange sort. That usually meant force user these days, but at the range they were apart it was to hard to seperate him from the confusion of the billions on this small moon. Much to Harbingers pleasure though the fellow was walking his way towards the landing pad he was perched a few hundred feet above. This was the point that Harbinger noticed that one of the many ships rushing about was coming in closer to land on the platform.

"Well then. Lets see where this goes my Sith brethren" he said with a hollow roiling of anger in his already dead and electronic voice. Being of the last order of the Sith, Harbinger was not a fan of the unbalance in the force caused by the second culling of the Jedi he'd witnessed. Blades and rifle stored for now, the tall lean droid stood upon the top of the spire and simply watched the encounter before leaping down from his hiding spot. He fell quickly, his cape tucking in around him as he did to get beneath him. Acting like a cushion or shock absorber the tall droid hit the ground with little sound more than the protesting of hydraulics. Standing, he looked over the pair and said nothing. Reaching out to them with the force he tried to get a feeling for their power up close, whilst revealing he was no mere droid.

 

[Tara Bronwyn]

Tara still hated Nar Shaddaa, she was sure she would never get the smell off her clothes. There was something about the smell of the jeweled moon that never washed off, and she would know, she had tried often enough. The advantage to the moon however, was no one really bothered to notice you unless you made a show of yourself. Tara knew better than to do something like that. There were too many people who might say the wrong thing to the wrong person, then things got awkward.

As it stood though, no one was bothering to stop her, let along look at her for long. In Tara's case it was more street clothes than any force ability that was the cause of that. She could blend in, for the most part, when she choose to. In this case a ship that she had not seen before got her attention. Not that, that was unusual on Nar Shaddaa, people tended to come and go on a fairly common basis. But, she was from the moon, some times ships stood out more than others. In this case she was not happy.

She was close enough to get a general view of the pair near the ship. And the fact that one of them had what were sith tattoos, if she had to guess. Whilst Tara was not weary of sith, she had a general distrust of them, bordering on dislike, depending on the sith in question. As it was, the fact there was more than one caught her attention.

 

[Darth Tak]

Several new beings came into his Force Sense area, but he had no mind of it. It was good, quite good.
"It is quite good. We can get something to eat, the we can go." "Mhmhnkay." said Oura as they both walked (both ignoring the small crowd) to a small cafe/resteraunt/diner. After a few seconds of reading a menu, then looking around, they then took a few more seconds reading the menu. Sith don't usually eat from these places, but why not?