Ask Shadows Upon Nar Shaddaa

[Sol Kenuk]

Nar Shaddaa, 7:45pm​

This was a place that reeked of tainted air. A place where the stars in the sky were outshined by the vibrant illumination of a twisted city. Dark alleys rested quiet, littered with trash and the stains of drunken brawls. Casinos glowed with the life of the greedy, the lost and forlorn who's hope rested upon the whims of rigged machinery. Crime was no rarity here, but something to be expected. Sol had arrived upon a transport shuttle. for he had no interest in drawing attention to himself as Imperial, nor Sith. No, this was a dangerous place to flaunt power. Death was a mere breath away, from both the cruel, and the destitute. The Kel Dor would not invite trouble with the locals. They were nothing to him.

Sol was here to greet an old contact, and nothing more. A smuggler of whom the Sith was acquainted through business alone. Not friends, but allies nonetheless. The Kel Dor was no stranger to detours when it came to expanding his own influence. In the wake of Andruil's resignation, cracks began to show in the foundation of Imperial Power. With enough force, perhaps he might pry at the edges and slip inside. Sol wasn't interested in challenging the new Empress, or her Dark Lord, but he sought power regardless. The Empire had it's goal, and Sol had his. For now, they aligned to form a single path, and so he would continue to follow. Curiously, as the Kel Dor slipped through the crowded space port, draped in dark robes that hid the lethal weaponry at his side, something rose upon the bitter air to claw at the frayed edges of his sensitive mind. The force rippled, like a pebble dropped into a still pond. Sol changed course, slipping through the throng of people that surrounded him as he sought out this new target, seeking the small stone that had shattered his solemn contemplation. Where it rested against the water's current, he would find it. Or rather, them.

It would seem that Sol was not the only force sensitive in the space port that night.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

His steps melted into one another. It had come to a state, where his mind a while ago had given up on control and now allowed his legs to move freely, dragging the rest of him wherever they wanted to take him. He had lost track of time. A part of him considered going back to sleep, but sleep was treacherous. When rest was expected, he could wake up completely drained. It wasn’t nightmares, but rather memories that flashed through his mind, like holo pictures on a wall. Memories he didn’t want to remember. Even if they were pleasant.

At most, the memories were always confusing.
A large blue hand, warm and dark like the night sky undisturbed by light patted him softly on the head. The shadow of an appreciative smirk was on his face, when the Chiss looked down on his son. Silvus couldn’t remember what he had done to deserve this. But he felt such an immense happiness in his body, like a warm light inside his chest. And he laughed, grabbing the large fist. His two small purple hands could barely close around it, so he hugged his arm and held it tightly, squishing the chubby cheek of a child against it.

The Chiss tilted his head.
“I am proud of you Silvus. I will always be”.
…
And that. That was when Silvus knew. This was not reality. This was a dream. A wish from a time long gone.
For his father had never uttered such words to him. And as he had disappeared from his life, so did the made-up memory evaporate. And the two red eyes opened, on edge and aware to the darkness of his room.

Gone was the feeling of warmth. In its place, there was only a hollow sensation of something that was supposed to be there, but was missing. His face did neither show hurt, nor surprise, when he reached for his cigarettes on the night stand. The herbal smoke scratched all the way down his trachea and twirled from his lips, like a slumbering dragon, and he found the sensation pleasant. It was distracting from his inner void.

It was not for a specific purpose, when he slid into the long white fur coat, dressed in his trademark jewellery and exited his apartment. But it was a sensation that drove him in momentum. Like a call, unsure from which direction it came from. Once Silvus again stopped walking, he had crossed crowds and found himself in the middle of the space port. The vivid neon lights draped durasteel in an aurora of colours. Smoke and pheromone perfume followed him long before he arrived somewhere and long after he was gone, like an invisible spirit. He dozed off to the scenery, and that was when he longed for home. For Zeltros – The only place he knew he could find some sort of kinship.

Until something awoke him. In the corner of his eye, he saw a black shape, and the red gaze turned to the person it belonged. But rather than settling in with unease, Silvus felt curious and drawn to the being. He rose his head calmly to signal that he had seen the Kel Dor and inhaled the smoke again.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

Sol had intended to seek out whomever was harboring that force signature, but he hadn't considered talking to said individual. Curiosity was within his nature, and if there was another Sith, or a Jedi, on Nar Shaddaa, then he of course wanted to know about it.

What he finds instead is a strange looking humanoid, a man with skin like a Zeltron, and eyes like a Chiss. How curious. Sol wonders if he looked just as strange, or perhaps stranger. Kel Dor were not a common sight on this side of the galaxy. Then again, Kel Dor were not really a common sight anywhere outside of Dorin. Not entirely a race that people gawked at with ignorance, but uncommon enough regardless.

The man peers at Sol, but says nothing, and the Sith is left staring back. He wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and this man was certainly not a Jedi. Would a conversation be worth his time? Small talk could be such a waste of breath, after all. On the other hand, he can't help but wonder if the man before him was even aware of the signature he was putting off. Sol had no desire to waste his time trying to converse with a stranger in some rundown spaceport that smelled of stale air and alcohol, but in this case, perhaps he could secure an asset, one that could become valuable in the future. The Kel Dor makes his decision, and steps closer.

"You are a curious one." Sol drawls politely, "I've not seen a Zeltron with eyes like yours, before."

As much as he hated small talk when he was busy with something else, Sol would make an exception here. He thought it more polite than leading with a conversation about force sensitivity in the middle of a crowded space-port, where unwanted ears might be listening.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

Silvus had limited experience with Force sensitives, especially of either Sith or Jedi alignment. Jedi were someone you would want to stay clear of, once you were guilty of having blood on your hands and lost lives on your consciousness. They were a danger to Silvus’ lifestyle, and thus indirectly a danger to his family. Tales of the Sith were sometimes something that would wander from mouth to mouth or be used to scare children. Silvus had studied those stories in his youth with a critical sense of how much truth they held to them. He had never been afraid, but faced annoyance when more questions had evolved than answers.

What Silvus thought was normal day to day experiences of an empath from Zeltros was never anything he had considered to be Force related. All Zeltrons could sense the emotions of others and influence them on a limited spectrum. Yet, to Silvus that had always had a stronger effect on him. Sorrow. Despair. Panic. Pain. He could sense the emotions of those around him till he became sickened and felt them as it was his own body. The infrared vision made it possible for him to see differences in peoples body heat and blood flow to the face, and with those information’s he could calculate the mood in a room, even at a distance.
Yes, Silvus was a first-class skilled bloodhound. And he was addicted to medications to stop that.
…
However, recently the empath blockers were beginning to lose effect. And he was left clueless. They should stop his telepathic abilities as a Zeltron without question. There seemed to be a different channel remaining that they couldn’t cover.

The red gaze scanned the Keldor the same way he watched Silvus back. Silvus noted he had a cold air to him, and with his dark robe, he stood out. The way the Zeltron did, but differently. A shadow and a dawn on the sky. Should he be Sith, Silvus was not someone to get in his way, and thus he was left unfaced by what he could do to him. Right now he had bigger problems on his mind than the consideration of when the flame of his existence would be snuffed.

He chuckled. It was not the first time his appearance had drawn attention. On the one hand, he had always enjoyed being the centre of attention.

“You are not wrong”.

On the other hand, The Chiss lineage in him was a constant inner conflict and source of great frustration for him, as something he hated and at once yearned for. And on this evening, it reflected from him like a sore wound in the Force with restlessness.

“It is a disease. A sickness I was born with, I’m afraid... You are not from around here either. I haven’t seen you before, and I get around”.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

Cold eyes gleam behind shaded goggles, focus unblinking upon the stranger who emanated such restless currents into the still pond of the surrounding force. Where Sol's presence chilled the edges of the pool like frost glistening across unblemished reflections, this man was a tangled knot, sinking into the depths.

Talons twitched, coiled against gnarled fingers as the Sith idled quietly, listening to the words that dripped into his ears to wash across wintry thoughts. A disease. A sickness I was born with. A wound with frayed, tattered edges, unhealed and festering. Sol tilted his head, takes a moment to ponder the cunning sensations that shift beneath his skin like venom. These were things that could be poked at, prodded, used like a dimming ember to reignite a fading flame.

I haven’t seen you before, and I get around. Ambition flickers, and then dies, as the Kel Dor's thoughts were snatched by thorny claws, and promptly returned to the present.

"As do I." Sol responds, and his voice is smooth, glazed with a rotten honey that shrouds the ice upon his tongue. "But not on Nar Shaddaa." Agreement, or perhaps, a thickly veiled attempt at humor. Like a snake replicating the amusement of mankind. Sol's fangs are well hidden though, tucked within the dark side of the force where they waited patiently for a chance to strike at hapless prey. But that was neither here nor there.

"Indeed, I am visiting. Call me a... tourist, if you will." The Kel Dor continued, and his vocals were polite and steady. To bystanders, there was nothing to be seen but an amicable chat between strangers. "You live here?" The Sith guessed from the short span of their conversation alone, a wry smirk tugging his face. "Perhaps you could show me around." A suggestion, but one that was burdened by a meaning unknown.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

”Yes. I do live here… For now. But this is far from my home. It is merely a necessity. I have resided here for many years and have built myself a good base. I know Nar Shaddaa as my own backyard. It’s rough – That is if you don’t know what to watch out for. I can show you around”.

Silvus studied his black painted nails for a moment before looking out at the crowd and waving an illustrative hand out at the many lights and people that just walked by.

“But what is possible all comes down to what is your desire. Everything you can imagine can be found here, when you know where to look and have plenty of Credits in your pocket. Including things, you wouldn’t expect”.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

The Kel Dor tilts his head, studies the red-eyed man with eyes that glow harshly behind the goggles that shrouded them. This fellow was certainly wordy, and Sol supposed that it might work out in his favor. This wasn't his first visit to Nar Shaddaa, and the Sith knew well enough where to look for what he had come for. Sol simply hadn't expected to end up distracted by some odd looking Zeltron in the middle of one of the moon's busiest spaceports, and a force sensitive one at that.

The Kel Dor doesn't take his gaze off the other man, even as he gestured to the dazzling display of holo-lights and brightly clad visitors that surrounded them. Perhaps some might find the intensity of Sol's vision... uncanny. But he would not deny that he was curious.

"Hmm." A contemplative hum as the Sith considers what he'll say next. "I think my desire, for now, is a quieter location. One where we might speak more privately." Sol doesn't elaborate beyond that, but on Nar Shadda of all places, he doubted he'd have to. Most would probably just assume that he was up to something that they wanted nothing to do with, and that was fine enough for the Kel Dor. It was easier to avoid attracting unwanted attention when one assumes you were a lowly dealer, as opposed to a Sith, far from the safety of Imperial space.

Of course, Sol might have thought a bit differently if he had known this man was a part of the Syndicates.

His smuggler contact would still be awaiting Sol's arrival when he was finished with the Zeltron, and all the Kel Dor had to do was hope that the holocron he had received intel about would not disappear into the underworld forever, in the meantime.

"I am called Sol." The Sith offers his first name with a politeness coating his smoothed tone. "And you are?"

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

Silvus needed no explanation. Discretion was absolutely not his middle name in general, but when it came to planning and inquiries extra eyes and ears could bear unwanted complications. He began walking past Sol, expecting him to follow away from the masses.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. Silvus Dawn”.

A couple minutes later Silvus stopped in front of an expensive club. While it definitely wasn’t what one could define by quiet, the environment also made eavesdropping more difficult.
“Perfect!” he declared.
Without the slightest consideration that the masked man wouldn't agree.

“They have some more private lounge areas in the back”.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

As expected, Sol does follow, his long stride easily keeping pace with the Zeltron. The Sith tilts his head as the other introduces himself as Silvus Dawn. He would be sure not to forget it. For a time, there is silence between them, the ambience of the city filling the Kel Dor's ears as they stride through chattering crowds, before finally arriving in front of a club. Holo-lights ignited the street, and life buzzed within it's halls. It was far from quiet, but it would do, he supposed. With any luck, most of the residents would be too busy with their gambling and alcohol to bother listening too intently upon the Sith's conversation.

"Ah, nothing like the smell of spice and alcohol to make you homesick." Sol speaks with a dry sense of humor as he follows Silvus into the building. Had he not been wearing his goggles, he would have been dazzled by the vivid lightning. "A lounge will do." The Sith supposed. He didn't plan to drink or smoke, but he supposed he was just as much a sinner as the rest in the building.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

”Oooh yesss, it’s great, isn’t it?”
Silvus smiled with excitement as he walked down the staircase and entered the club. Compared to Sol, the tall Zeltron wasn’t even being sarcastic. And his smile only grew wider when his eyes wandered to the many guests, the dancers and the bar.

He lead Sol past the loudest crowd and opened a door in the back that revealed a second room with several leather couches in screaming red and little round tables in the middle. In the light it was visible that smoke filled the air, colouring it white. With the wave of a hand, he gestured towards it.
“After you”.

When Sol had passed him, he took a seat on the opposite side in the couch. Then he leaned back and lit his cigarette anew, only adding to the thick air with his own scent. The leather creaked under his weight.
“Would you like anything? They have some interesting cocktails in their repertoire. I can recommend the Flameout”.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

Sol is pointedly silent as they stride down the steps to enter the dazzling club, where chatter roared with a mingling laughter, the scent of alcohol heavy like smog in the vivid interior. Enthralled guests and lewd dances, the smell of cigarette smoke that leaked through his mask. This might be a pleasant spot for the Zeltron, but the Kel Dor would pick a library over this any day. Still, he follows, and he's not sure if he regrets getting distracted by the man or not yet. Time would tell as they pass the loudest of the crowds, slipping through a door and into a room with an assortment of ugly booths. Behind his mask, the Sith wears a stoic expression that betrays nothing of his distaste. He takes a seat on one of the couches as the Zeltron settles across from him, offering him a drink. The thought is actually an amusing one.

"Unless you're capable of draining all the oxygen from this room, I'm afraid I'll have to pass on the alcohol." Dry humor escaped his maw as a talon pointed toward the Kel Dor's mask. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not here to drink. I merely wanted to speak with you." And he wonders if the Zeltron even knows. Either way, this seemed the perfect place to make an offer, and Sol certainly had one brewing. "Are you aware of your connection to the force?"

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

The response from the Zeltron changed direction. First from the comment of the drink, to a more serious subject. His reaction came abrupt and without much thought. Itself was an answer on its own.
“My what?”

Silvus shot both of the dark brows to the sky. He watched Sol in silence for a couple of seconds, before a loud, rolling laughter escaped him, and he smoothed the wavy locks back from his face.

“Oh, yes, we are a true force of nature on Zeltros, certainly. Most of my family is. It lays in the genes”.
But the huge grin disappeared quickly, when he studied the Kel Dor’s face once again and found nothing sort of a joke. He took a deep breath, then leaned closer to the alien in front of him, supporting himself with an arm resting on the table. Thin wrinkles on his nose bridge appeared.

“I beg you pardon?”

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

The Zeltron's response is instant, confused and uncertain. That alone is answer enough. Sol tilts his head, peers at the man with cold eyes that glow with fiery intensity behind his goggles. Laughter echoes throughout the room before Silvus tries to play it off, but Sol is stoic, stone-faced, and entirely unamused. He taps a dangerous claw against the table between them, an idle gesture.

"You are force sensitive." The Kel Dor's vocals are dry and simple, as he was merely stating a fact. "Clearly, you are unaware. Have you never done anything others saw as strange? Moved things without touching them? Do your reflexes seem uncanny?" It was unusual for a force sensitive to live well into adult-hood without the slightest suspicion that something was different. Regardless, it was clear enough to the Sith.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

Silence followed, despite the clear sign of protest by Silvus parted lips. Denial wouldn’t do anything further for this conversation, and it was very apparent by the Kel Dor in front of him. The tapping finger against the table returned his attention to him.

He sighed and crossed his arms – a defence mechanism he was unaware of, like a shield that tried to fend off the idea that to him felt absurd. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. A part of him didn’t want to dig up any memories that could answer Sol’s question.

“I’ve been known to predict things. Events. Usually socially. Sometimes before they even happen. My empathic connections to those around me are very strong, when compared to my siblings. It extends to people I never have met before that given moment”.

Silvus looked at his hand clenching it to a fist.
“My anger… doesn’t have a very healthy effect on my surroundings. On Zeltros this is viewed as a lack of control. More or less as a defect. Negative emotions are discouraged to avoid hurting those around us. I’ve been told I’m an atypical Zeltron in many ways. But still a Zeltron. Nothing out of the ordinary”.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

He watches in silence as the other man crosses his arms, tries to formulate some sort of response to the Sith. The air seems tinged with discomfort, though Sol himself feels perfectly fine. He listens as Silvus admits to the few, strange incidences that he's endured. Ultimately, the Kel'dor doesn't care about the other's anger, or his need to be, as he said, nothing out of the ordinary, when he very much was.

"You are force sensitive. Like a Jedi, or a Sith." Sol made it clear. No matter how normal Silvus wanted to be, he would always be different from the rest of his kind. "You have connections in Nar Shaddaa?" It probably seemed off topic, to bring up the life of the moon, but ultimately, the Kel'dor had his reasons. Clearly, Silvus knew his way around the world. He lived here. "Perhaps I'd be willing to extend some training, to help you better understand yourself." Behind his mask, Sol smiles, a sickly expression.

"Of course, with all things, there is a price." In this case, Silvus' connections on Nar Shaddaa might be more than enough, particularly if he had any connections in higher places. Or, in the case of the Sith's more criminal nature, lower places.

@Moon Nymph

 

[Silvus Dawn]

”No”.
Silvus shook his head. He bit his lower lip to hold any frustration in. Which was useless to someone like Sol, when Silvus’ mood had an ability to hold about as much in, as a mug with multiple cracks along its surface.

“No. After all this time I have grown used to just being maladjusted”.
He buried his face in his hands. His teeth ground together. The red eyes peaked out through fingers that begun to shake. It was as if the red intensified and gained a glow.

“Because only a part of me belongs in that world. The other can never find rest, no matter how much I search, how far I go, how long I look”.

It was not as much denial, as it was a conflicting feeling that emerged deep within in him, as pieces of the puzzle slowly began clicking into place, no mater how hard he tried to prevent them from doing so. Silvus had never been stupid. Which both was a strength and a curse.

The Zeltron took a deep breath and tried to swallow the sensation of having his heart press into his throat to escape. His mother had given him all the help she was capable of, but it was never enough. His other part had escaped to the Unknown Regions in more than one sense. Sol was the first person that came with answers, and naturally, now Silvus wouldn’t let the opportunity fly. He couldn't, when truth personified sat in front of him. At once vile and with a justified pull.

“I know enough. What do you need?” Silvus hissed.
Despite clearly being affected by Sol’s slippery words, Silvus managed to speak with a calm and determined voice that didn’t affect the state of his body.

@Nevermourn

 

[Sol Kenuk]

The man seemed to be crumbling under the weight of his realization. Sol is quiet, lets the Zeltron digest what was said, his talons clicking against one another as fingers intertwined upon the table between them. Finally, it seemed that the other man had come to terms with the newfound conundrum in his own way, and Sol tilts his head, peers at him in silence as Silvus appears to crack.

'What do you need?' Words that are hissed from the lips of the other, but absorbed with a conniving delight by the Kel'dor.

"Not too much." Sol assures, though ultimately he supposes the answer was debatable. "I like having contacts within the underworld. So, when I need something, be that weaponry, drugs, or something else, I will come to you. If you cannot provide these things, then you will set me up with someone who can." For now, Sol was on the hunt for something else, something that another contact would already be providing. Nonetheless, more connections would only prove beneficial in the future, when the Sith came calling for something a bit more.

"Furthermore, you will be my eyes and ears. If anything happens that you think I'd be interested in knowing about, you will inform me. I will provide you all the means necessary to stay in contact." It sounded simple enough, though perhaps not so to the half Zeltron.

"In return, I will train you to utilize the force as you see fit." A makeshift Acolyte, in a way, albeit one not associated with the Empire. No, this was something a bit more... underhanded. A personal creation of the Kel'dor's own design, without the restraints of the Sith Order to bind them. All the while, Sol would increase his own assets, and as a result, his power.

"Perhaps, you might even invite me to an outing or two. If there is something to be gained for both of us, I would be inclined to assist you when needed." He wouldn't be at the Zeltron's beck and call, but should the other find something that Sol could gain from, he saw no reason why he couldn't extend the boundaries of their partnership.

@Moon Nymph