Interceptor of Feathers, Salazar

[The Gloaming]

Interceptor of Feathers, Salazar
Description: Salazar is an Iridonian mercenary for hire, specializing in sniping. Reports claim that he is responsible for a massacre of monks on Ando Prime. Caring little for the politics of the galaxy, he has no qualms about killing Sith and Jedi. Salazar was recruited into the Juuni Viinn Jho after killing another recruit by shoving his jetpack into the recruit’s face and igniting it.
Notes: Salazar is a sniper, so getting close to him is adviseable. He has a jetpack and may try to flee on it.
Last Sighting: Salazar was last seen hunting birds on Naboo
Proof: Retrieve Salazar's feather charm

Gienn sat in the captain's chair as the Vein of Toxins, a heavily modified vessel from the clone wars, zoomed through hyperspace. Overlooking the file on his quarry brought him joy. There wasn't much to go on, but more than was necessary. This would also be a good experience for Philli'p. The kid needed a good kill, and he wasn't even a kid. He was an adult. Gienn recalled the number of children he'd slaughtered mercilessly when he was but seven years old. Ah, to be youth again.

"Philli'p, we're making our way to Naboo. There's something I have yet to teach you, and you may need that knowledge now. It is the key to becoming invisible. Get back to the cargo bay, I'll switch on autopilot."

 

[DeathToll]

Starring out the side viewport, Phili'p was a bit caught off guard when the Master called his name. He snapped his head left and silently listened to instruction. It almost seemed as though the Master had read his thoughts, as he was just wondering where they were headed. But he would have to reserve his thoughts to himself. In this point of his training, Phili'p was somewhat beaten into an obedient dog. His head lowered, he but lowered it further to acknowledge his command.

After bowing, the Acolyte pivoted around in the small entry-way and walked out towards the cargo bay. Once there, he'd turn to face the entrance and await the Master with a firm two-footed stance. He was beginning to practice a constant state of a tightnened core, flexing his stomach always and even sensing his surroundings merely as an exercise. Though he was much the novice still, in many ways he was just beginning.

 

[The Gloaming]

Gienn spun in his chair and stood up to follow Philli'p. He stopped in the doorway of the cargo hold and waited a moment. "Sit down."

"Making yourself invisible to the naked eye, that is a challenge. It is necessary that you know the technique, however. A day will come when you realize just how important it can be. First, you have to visualize yourself and the space around you. Understand that everything is comprised of particles, atoms and such. Now focus on the particles of light surrounding you. When you have a grasp of that light, bend it around yourself. String the particles together and stream them from your head to your toes, front to back. This will create the illusion that your simply aren't there. Try it now."

Gienn watched in patient silence.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p tilted the curve of his right foot underneath him, then simply bent down to a folded-leg-position. Sitting there, he stretched his arms over his legs, relaxing his wrists upon the edge of his knees as he close his eyes.

He was ...obedient; and in times of training, unquestioning.

Phili'p let hiccup a deep breath into his forming concentration. As he sit there, a fold of his sleeve lay over his hand; it slowly slid with the pull of gravity, taking its time. Phili'p listened to the Master's words, loosing himself in them as if they were the clouds that formed his atmosphere. He breathed those clouds in, blurring the lines between mind and body. His sleeve slid further. It seemed now, as he meditate in the darkness that swelled from within, that even such physical things as the cold surface of the metal floors were breathing with him; the temperature wafting up like a lifting swet, evaporating into his manipulation of feeling.

Air's density fluctuated, bending with a test of will. Atoms bloated and a breeze seemed mimicked. The Darkside had begun to curve about the Acolyte.

It was not immediate, but soon the end of the sleeve finally fell to dangle with a sway; and Phili'p's image flickered with it. His presence was still palpable, like a wet scent upon a fur; but he then disapeared entirely. His breath sounded from the audible location of his mouth there as he sat still.

 

[The Gloaming]

"Excellent. Now hold it as long as you can." Gienn crossed back over to his seat, and stood still, staring at the terminal. They would snap out of hyperspace in a minute or so, and arrive on Naboo. Gienn bristled.

He looked back to see that the cargo hold was empty. Appeared empty, for he could still sense his apprentice sitting there, focusing. "That's enough. Don't get lost in it, you'll be stuck that way." He was, or course, joking. He just didn't Philli'p to be too tired for the hunt. Was he beginning to grow attached to his apprentice? No, it was a logical desire for Philli'p to have sufficient energy. Gienn certainly wasn't beginning to like his apprentice, was he? They bothe exuded similar traits, and something dark and sinister still rested in him. Philli'p was obedient, broken. Gienn couldn't wait to see him unleash that darkness and reshape himself. It would like end with Gienns death.

The Vein of Toxins lurched out of hyperspace and drifted toward the lush green planet of Naboo. "Gather your things, we'll be landing soon."

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p, at first, felt like he was loosing himself in the darkness; but then found his extremities twitching and internal focus struggling to hold the stillness of meditation. But when the Master gave the odd warning, almost like a joke, Phili'p broke out of his concentration with a release - quite like he had been holding his breath. He was unsure how to react at this time, taking things too seriously; always seeing the world as a tragedy, death and misery his only outlit in a tale.

He had taken his first step into shadow, deepening his pool in the Darkside. Regaining his stamina, it had been more effort to let what naturally wanted to happen than to reach for what he could not obtain. He would have more than enough energy for the day to come, finding new sources of motivation every day. In fact, he'd never been so motivated in his life; previously a mockery to the Sith ideal, hiding from contact and avoiding what he could not face within himself. Had he really changed so much? Maybe not. But the more he focused on acquiring power, for whatever use in justification, the more consumed he became by it.

The ship rocked out of hyperspace, and Phili'p opened his eyes. Easily standing without even a single step, he had but to adjust his feet flat to place weight upon them. He nodded to his Master and looked over to the doorway. He had nothing to grab, unless there was something in particular the Master wanted him to take. He looked down at his lightsaber, dangling from his hip, and then prepared to embark on his next trial. His stomach anticipated that sickening feeling he'd no doubt feel later this day when he'd be faced with another death by his hands, but tightened it down. There was no turning from the Darkside...

 

[The Gloaming]

Vein of Toxins landed on the surface of Naboo, resting on a courtyard of stone. As Gienn exited the ship, and thin and lanky human male wandered over and spoke timidly. "You can't park your ship here. You don't ha-" He was cut off by the clutch of an invisible hand choking him. "I would like authorization then. Make that happen. I'm here on important business. See to it that my lovely ship here is refueled and clean by the time I get back. And if I find anything that was not there before, you will suffer for it."

He dropped the man at the verge of death, and waited as he caught his breath. Panting, the man finally made his response. "Y-yes s-s-sir..." He scurried away, and left Gienn to take in the sights.

"Philli'p. We're looking for an Iridonian sniper, correct? He likes feathers. How should we approach this?"

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p awaited the Master's lead, following him out like a shadow. When a man approached, the Master greeted him accordingly. Phili'p stayed behind with a lowered head. He could feel every pinched vein and every spasmed muscle within the mans' throat. It disturbed Phili'p. He swallowed, disguising his nervousness on the subject as he eyed the ground. When the man was released, he answered wisely. Phili'p looked up to him, seeing only half of the man's face from behind Gienn's obscuring shoulder. Phili'p watched the man hurry away, as the Master interrupt his curriosity with a question. He knew it not wise to keep the Master waiting for an answer.

"Salazar is a hunter... We should seek out the hunted, or become the hunted and draw him to us. Searching for him will only waste valuable time."

Phili'p had answered quickly, sharply giving his assesment of the situation. He would not think to question the validity of his words. He would not show hesitation, if he could help it. He faced enough hesitation in battle. All he could do was attempt to show the Master his willingness to discard his previous weaknesses, even if it was more of a show. Though, what is his true self and is the image he puts on for the Master were beginning to cross into each other. The black ink of his bloody insides was bleeding into the white paper of his conscience, and the ink so began to fade. All that seemed to be now was an equal gray, without end to either side.

 

[The Gloaming]

"One way or another, we'll be searching. Let's be direct."

Gienn stormed off into the woods at a jog, and when he was sure Philli'p could keep up, he quickened his pace. At a full sprint, Branches passed over head, and grass underfoot. There was nothing sinister about this planet, even the footnotes of energy that must have been left behind by Darth Sidious had faded away over the last millennium.

"If you think you're ready, let's go faster!" Gienn used the Force to project his voice, and after a few more yards of running, leaped up onto a branch. He pushed off the branch with his feet, and onto another one several meters ahead. Travelling by branch was primitive, and it gave Gienn a sense of being a real hunter. He wondered how his apprentice felt about such an excursion.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p nodded, even though the Master could not physically see him from his standing behind him. He was relieved that, at least for now, he was not to be used as bait. As long as the Master did not take issue with Phili'p's deemed incorrect suggestions and decisions, Phili'p did not worry. It was when he made a notable mistake that gained the Master's vengeance that caused him to truly strive for a cruel perfection.

Naboo. The place was a bit too colorful. It was a relief to move into the woods for Phili'p. When the Master stormed off, he followed behind; able to keep pace, as long as he could follow at a distance by previewing their almost plotted course.

When the Master projected the challenge, Phili'p reflected an immediate confirming thought with one word: "Master." And like that, Gienn was off. Phili'p was startled at his Master's choice of a high road, finding it difficult to initiate a mimicking leap towards the branches above as he continue sprinting through the Force below. Finally able to attack an opening into the branches above, the Acolyte shot up. One foot after the other, Phili'p hitch a boot from tree trunk to tree trunk with the aim to rise higher into the branches of the forrest. Reaching the same level as the Master, Phili'p finally propelled off into a sequence of single-foot leaps from branch to branch. He had lost some distance behind Gienn in his delayed efforts to ascend the trees, and now he struggled to find his footing.

Fearing a loss of momentum, thinking that stopping or slowing would cause a branch to break or his Master to leave him, Phili'p pushed himself with audible noises of exerting effort as he swing from two-handed grips and studder his steps to plot his course somewhat in his Master's footsteps. Where the trees remained compliant with Gienn, feeling little to no stress from his touch, they whined and growned with Phili'p. His steps were clumsey, new. He ducked a stray branch, almost decking himself as he run and leap. Having missed what he quickly realized to be the proper path, Phili'p nearly slammed into the trunk of a tree. He slapped his arms around the trunk and slid to a stop as he almost hug the thick trunk. Turning around to regain a visual on the Master, Phili'p released the tree to fully turn his body and resume his advance with a grunt.

 

[The Gloaming]

Gienn slowed just enough for Philli'p to catch up. The fact that he had made it this far proved that the acolyte was at least worthy of training. As selfless as it seemed, Gienn knew that his apprentice had more potential to overthrow the Dark Lord of the Sith than he did. Time was all it would take.

Birds of various kinds flew over head, traveling in congruence with the Siths heading. "We might be getting close to a nest." He used the Force to project his voice as he realized that Philli'p was slowly falling behind again.

In the distance, though enshrouded in trees and brush, Gienn could make out a rather large nest resting on an even larger branch connected to a monumental tree. The tree was maybe one onehundredth of the size of an average wroshyr.

"We stop here. Look." Gienn steadied himself on a branch forty meters from the nest, and pointed. "We'll have to wait quite a while, but from what I can sense, death hangs in the air here...he'll show up."

 

[DeathToll]

The Master's words gave inspiration to Phili'p's actions. They were getting close. All Phili'p could do was to catch up, following the presence of that voice in his head. It was difficult to keep a straight path towards Gienn, but Phili'p managed to navigate from tree to tree before stopping to look up and watch birds fly past.

Turning his head back, he was close behind the Master now; he could see him point to the nest. Phili'p carefully walked out along a branch as it wavered beneath his steps, peering around to get a clear view of the nest in question. He wanted to scratch at his palm. The scars were itching for attention at the warning of possible time in waiting. Often in stillness, he would find the edge of his blade along the flesh of his palm; and now could be one of those moments, pain calling at his drifting mind. Indeed, death was hanging in the air here. Phili'p nodded to his Master, wondering if he could get away with a free moment's indulgence.

 

[The Gloaming]

Gienn continued to peer at the nest and ponder. He wasn't sure how long it would take for their prey to arrive, but he knew the sniper would show, eventually. Maybe waiting wasn't the best option here. Gienn had hunted many unsuspecting victims, sometimes waiting, sometimes chasing.

"Alright. Since we can't just sit here and do nothing, we'll set a perimeter around that nest. Traps should help. Set as many as you can in a forty meter radius of the nest, as many as you can. Take these. For the rest, you'll have to improvise."

Gienn handed Philli'p six mines and two thermal detonators, before dropping to the ground and disappearing into the brush.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p moved in closer, until he was able to take the supplies. He watched, almost blank-faced in surprise, as the Master drop down then dissapear. His eyes shifted left, looking lost as he crouch there on a branch. He seemed to be having trouble with where to begin.

No. He couldn't show weakness to the Master. He couldn't show hesitation or a lack of confidence. Phili'p lifted his shoulders, squeezing the contents in his arms, then retracted his legs to drop down to the ground. Landing softly with a plop, he then looked around.

First, he'd focus on the tree itself. He looked down, barely reached a free hand and let the Darkness punch a shallow hole into the earth. He used the Darkside to lift the mine freely into the air and levitate towards the ground. Placing it into the hole, he covered it up; as well, placing a couple long twigs across the edges of the covered hole to widen the circumferance of the hot zone.

To further focus on the tree, he stepped around to the other side and levitated a mine up close to the height of the nest itself. He focused hard now, attempting what he had not done before; ripping open the flesh of the bark, but not tearing it off of the tree fully. When he had burrowed in and pulled back some fresh bark, he placed in the mine just below the surface of the bark and replaced everything as best he could to simulate that nothing had been done.

Then, he would follow his Master's words to the letter; placing a fairly complete perimeter of well placed and hidden mines. As he moved, he stripped long thin pieces of leaves and twigs that he tied to some of the mines that were completely hidden and natural looking, which would be tugged at should the hunter come through there and would trip the mines. As well, Phili'p set up a few snares; using tree limbs with torn branches tied into slip-knots to catch an ankle in footstep, and digging many small covered pot-holes that could break an ankle once it fell through unnexpectedly.

Mid-way through these set ups, Phili'p realized that he had not been keeping himself concealed in the Darkside as the Master had taught him; despite being covered in much forrest and shrubbery. He then concentrated on concealing himself and focused to bend the surroundings about him. Still, he had two detonators left.

Phili'p then bound up into the trees, having made quick work of the perimeter and quite effectively as far as he could tell. Now came the hard part. Using the Darkside as he concentrated on concealing himself simultaneously took some effort. He tugged at thinner tree limbs and crossed them almost naturally over eachother to wedge the tips into other trees in so fragile a manner that even if his Master had come through he would know. Setting up more trip wires with smaller tree branches in the higher levels of the trees, he felt content with his traps. Still, he had those two detonators.

Deciding two things, that the hunter would want to claim his prize once he killed the bird and that the hunter as a sniper would probably approach from high ground or tree. So, Phili'p set one detonator gently into the underside of the nest itself with triggers set within the nest's makings. Once he had done this, he felt confident that if he left the nest unattended while he set the other detinator that he would know if the hunter tried to claim his prize. Phili'p moved away to find a place to plant the last det.

 

[The Gloaming]

Gienn forged countless slip-knots and organic traps over the course of several minutes. Philli'p had all the explosives at their disposal, so setting them close to the nest seemed a logical descision. Gienn's expanse was almost a kilometer diameter around the nest. Might as well cover as much space as possible.

When Gienn felt he'd payed a sufficient covering of traps, he began to climb the highest tree he could find.

Sittin on the top branch several dozen meters up, the Sith peered out over the forest, stretching his senses while trying to remain invisible. Mixing concealment with any other technique was likely the hardest thing a Force user could do, but Gienn had enough experience under his belt to last a bit longer.

He continued to stretch his senses until....there. About one and a half kilometers away, an efflux of pride and bloodlust was followed by the nearly imperceptible whisp of an old Quiet-Snipe mag pellet accelerator. The only reason Gienn could hear this was because he was searching for that exact weapon. Iridonian snipers often favored silenced weapons, even for trivial game hunting.

Gienn dropped down to the ground, and ran towards the nest, careful to sense where his apprentices traps may be.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p had just finished placing the last detonator when he sensed a change in the air. He had not heard the weapon in question, and could not quite pinpoint his Master's location, but had sensed the Master's move into action.

Phili'p spun around, high in the limbs of a tree about half way between the ground and the very tops of the trees themselves. He had to act quickly and get back to the nest, yet not triggering his own traps in the process. He knew exactly which direction the nest was in, though could not remember each and every trap and how the very trees affected those traps. It was then that he saw the holes in his own traps. He launched himself towards a tree trunk an dclung to it like an animal as he land. The limbs were indeed impenetrable. But if one were able to spring from trunk to trunk without affecting the branches, no trap would be triggered. He continued, slower than the pace of his Master's, moving towars the nest from the high position. No blast had yet occured, so Phil'p assumed that the sniper hadn't made it to the nest yet either. The Master hadn't fully made himself known either, so Phili'p began to feel compelled to seek favor from the Master. If he could catch the sniper before Master, Phili'p felt he could gift the hunter's body as a token of achievement in the Master's teachings. Pride and pride alike.

Phili'p neared the nest, now fully engaging his hatred; more a ready pool, so familiar to his hands now that it had almost lost its bitterness. He engaged an active cloaking of the Darkside and searched for the hunter's presence.

 

[The Gloaming]

Gienn could not see his apprentice, but he could certainly sense him near. As the younger man approached, Gienn made himself visible, hidden underneath the canopy of the trees. "Philli'p. Salazar is nearing. He is perhaps a click away. If the bounty is any indication, these traps will not kill him, only slow him down. When the first trap activates, we will do nothing. If another trap activates, we will still do nothing. We will not move until he tries to take this feather from the nest."

Gienn held in his hand a very large and brightly colored feather, and used the Force to deftly place it in the nest. "I will circle around and chase him this way. When he takes the feather, you must disable his jetpack. Without it, he can't escape us. Is that clear?"

He placed his hand on Philli'ps shoulder, as if to comfort before the dangerous task. Then he began to crush the shoulder, not to debilitated, but to remind Philli'p that this was important. "Be patient. As simple as the plan seems, this may take hours, or days. He is a good hunter, and catching him will be a challenge. Setting the trap is only one percent of the work. And remember, when things seem too dark, too grim, make it darker. That's the only way to stay in control."

Without another word, Gienn dashed out of view in the blink of an eye. His heading: Salazar. One of his own kind, likely related somehow, and a target.

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p felt a warmth upon his shoulder. His eyes widened at the touch, half expecting it to be Salazar; but he knew who it was. In fact, he wondered which would be worse. It was no contest. The Master was far more dangerous than Salazar in Phili'p's mind. And when the squeeze confirmed it, Phili'p winced with the tightening grip. Even his stomach contracted with the pressure upon his shoulder, to compensate.

"I will not fail, my Master."

Phili'p answered plainly and quietly. When the Master left him, Phili'p slowly crouched down; creeping to a new position. He felt for any presence nearby, truly exerting himself as he stretched his mind with more and more darkness. As he sit there in a deep bend over an hour, his eyes teared and face grimaced. His chin quivered as he press the knife of his probing thoughts into memory. He became more and more lost to the wilderness and its chaotic circle of death. Then, he sensed it...

A crack, snap, and a tree limb flung up from the ground in the distance. One of Phili'p's traps. Nearby shrubbery and bushes ruffled from the movement, but nothing. It was strange. Phili'p couldn't tell if it was the hunter Salazar or not? He wanted to go check it out, but could not disobey his Master. He stayed, close to the nest in darkness and shadow. Surely if the hunter could reach this tree, he would become injured from the perimeter traps or blown to peices by the mines themselves. But was this the hunter himself? Or was it something else...

 

[The Gloaming]

Salazar was in view. If Gienn were alone, could snap his neck from here with a little twist. But that was no fun, and Philli'p would learn nothing. Hiding in plain view, Gienn stood directly behind the Iridonian, about two meters away, and completely invisible.

"Ssssshhhhssssssss-ssss-ssss-sssss-Shhshshshshsshs!" Louder and louder, Gienn pushed the air and a little bit of dark energy permeate his teeth and writhe out to form a sound even he hadn't heard before. Salazar turned slowly, with a look of fear Gienn hadn't seen in a long time. It was good fear, enough to sustain him. Gienn rustled the branches, and made the wind blow. Then he used the Force to project he best impression of a bird, off toward the nest.

Salazar turned to run, returning his focus on the hunt. Gienn could sense his apprentices confusion, and found himself perplexed. Maybe one of the traps caught an animal. That makes sense...

((I just thought of something. Are we supposed to have someone NPC Salazar?))

 

[DeathToll]

Phili'p saw him! He resisted the urge to engage, crouching down further in his stealth within the forrest. He felt so inclined to succeed, he had nearly forgotten his self-loathing in the moment's advancement of coming events.

Then, a sound came blowing through the trees. Phili'p's head darted right. It was the Master. He cringed, in part an engrained reaction to the Master's discipline. The sound itself was strange and gave Phili'p thought to wonder if it was meant for him. No. It was meant for the hunter. The hunted. Phili'p would become the hunter. He could tell where the Master was now, after that willing of sound and power.

When Salazar turned one way in response to the noise and wind effect, Phili'p quickly dashed around the other way in concentration of silence; not to be heard as he lept up onto the tree adjacent to the nest. He climbed up, looking to reach a pearch higher than the nest itself.

Salazar had turned back and continued his run, though checking his surroundings as if he was now more aware of something. Or perhaps he was paranoid?

What was this newfound addiction? Phili'p wanted to give Salazar the shot, let him think he made a successful kill; then deprive him of his trophy, deprive him of his previously thought success. What was this new taste for vengeance not his own? He did not think to recognize it. He was not aware of its pull. He simply found himself spiralling down this torrent of Darkness, becoming lost in its pull; deeper and deeper. His eyes squinted tighter. He was ready to pounce.