Ask Nar Shaddaa The Final Nail

[Talak Rand]

Talak was growing a bit tired of Nar Shaddaa. What had at first been an interesting world had come to reek in his mind of the evils that he hated. Cruelty and slavery and the corruption of these... syndicates. It was abhorrent. Add to that that he had to constantly be on guard here and look over his shoulder ever since the bounty had been placed on his head, and things got worse. At this point, though, most didn't know who he was on sight... yet. Moreover, it was far more important to him to clear his name with the Eternal than to worry about how many people on this world would want to kill him.

He was dressed once again in his Arcanist disguise with a satchel of magnetic detonators. He was determined to make sure that everyone on this world knew this mask by the time he was finished. The man he was here to work with... wasn't someone he trusted, and that had him on edge, too. It had been a quick, word-of-mouth suggestion to take the man, but it wasn't clear that he knew a great deal about the Sith Eternal proper. Talak had passed information back through the grapevine, that wearing all-black, edgy clothes wasn't the goal tonight. Something lighter and more... robe-like would do better. With a helmet or mask of course.

The target was a smuggling port. With so many unknowns on board, he wasn't interested in trying to free slaves tonight. This was about sending a message and surviving long enough to do so. The Arcanist would become a name that everyone in Hutt Space would know was responsible for the attacks on Durr's son and assets. A Jedi-backed warrior. What could go wrong? he asked himself. @Logan

 

[Kholvar Varaxes]

Anonymity wasn't something Kholvar usually bothered with on Nar Shaddaa. Not only was he big enough and looked "don't kriff with me" enough that only fools with a death wish tended to bother hi, but he worked for the Hutts - and the Hutts ruled this moon.

Kholvar had liberties here, liberties that weren't afforded to him when his face was hidden beneath a mask. Today called for a mask, or his Ren helmet in this case, however. Kholvar had been contacted by a man who he did not know but had offered him an enticing job, and since Melkor had been totally MIA recently, opportunities had sort of been hard to come by.

The target was, funnily enough, his own syndicate. One of the more popular smuggling ports to be specific. Killing his own didn't reall bother Kholvar much. One less smuggling port and dozens of less syndicate scoundrels just meant more opportunities for him. At the end of the day the young Trianii was a selfish piece of garbage, so it really wasn't all that out of character.

He'd been following the Arcanist for a little while now. The man's garb didn't really blend in with the general tone of Nar Shaddaa: sad, dirty, corrupt. It was too white, like someone walking down the street with their own personal spotlight. Kholvar had kept a decent distance, looking to maintain elevation wherever possible. He wasn't stalking the Arcanist per se, he just wanted to feel the man out before presenting himself.

As they neared their destination, Kholvar would close the distance between himself and his benefactor, matching his gait while the two continued to walk.

"Are you prepared?" Kholvar asked genuinely. The question had many facets, the way Talak chose to answer would tell him a lot. There were many things that could go wrong, but at the end of the day Kholvar considered his personal risk minimal. "Kicking a Hutt in his gonads when he's already throwing a tantrum is a... brave choice."

Kholvar never stopped facing forward as he spoke. For all any casual observer could tell, he and the Arcanist were just two dudes wearing weird masks that happened to be going in the same direction. He wondered how many of them would soon be screaming, running for their lives as their plan unfolded. The visualization made him smile.

The destination was within sight now. Kholvar cracked his neck in anticipation, adrenaline starting to run.

@Phoenix

 

[Brahe Sienar]

The iconic sound of Brahe's speeder filled the air as the masked young racer pulled into a nearby docking location to take a break from that day's races. Nar Shadda was a hive of scum and villainy, but it also happened to be one of the best places in the Galaxy to get some high adrenaline speed racing action in. The masked, blue haired racer leaned back and let out a sigh of relief as he turned off the main engine, letting the speeder's passive repulsorlift technology take charge.

Brahe's outfit was his typical racer getup- a mask equipped with a voice modulator and doubled as some light protective armor, coupled with a flight suit styled in such a way as to look like formal club attire, hiding it's true nature as a protective garment designed for racing.

Of course, going to Nar Shadda without weapons was downright silly. On his right hip was his holstered Glie-44 blaster pistol, while on his left side, hidden well under his clothes, was a lightsaber with a yellow blade. It might've been exceedingly dangerous to bring one to Nar Shadda given the political climate, but Brahe figured as long as he kept it hidden, he could accept the risks.

Given Brahe's getup, no one would have ever guessed he was a Jedi. He looked more like an offworld street racer than he did a fully fledged, bona fide Jedi.

Brahe watched Kholvar and Talak speaking to one another, not that they'd be able to see Brahe looking at them for sure- the jet black, polarized lenses of his mask made it difficult to tell just exactly where the masked padawan was looking. Something gave Brahe a gut feeling that there was something....amiss here. Something that he wasn't so sure of, but it was clearly a disturbance in the force.

He raised an eyebrow behind his mask, crossing his arms and pretending to not pay attention to the two. It was hard to make out words at this distance, but if he just focused in on the force, he might just hear something...

​

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

So, there he was, having just supervised the transfer of various crates of legal and questionably legal goods to and from his ship, the Catspaw. He frequented this area for business, seeing as being a Jedi wasn't the most lucrative of career choices. At this point he practically lived on the smuggler's moon, a statement and sentiment both that he was sure his father would vehemently object to. A cigarra burned between his lips, wisps of smoke joining the cacophony of other smells and clouds wandering around the spaceport. He was dressed in somewhat stereotypical smuggler's attire, with a bit more flash and class, marking him as someone not from around here who nonetheless kept coming back. The very modified DL-44 on his right hip, often with a stylishly gloved hand resting casually atop it, reinforced the point that he was not the type of visitor one generally accosted for money, though he kept to himself that he tended to keep it set to stun. Within the gray coat over his shoulder he kept his lightsaber, securely and discreetly attached to a magnetic holster. The color of this coat blended in somewhat better than the flashy green he often wore out drinking, and besides that, that particular coat was in need of both cleaning and repair at this particular moment. High-velocity burning garbage tends to stain.

The exchange of goods having gone quickly and smoothly, as it tended to under the eye of the local 'security', the young Jedi had decided to wander off while his ship was refueled by paid dock staff. He'd managed to find his way to a sort of street stall that sold fried pancake-looking things of some kind along with cheap alcohol. Credits were changed for victuals and he ate relaxedly, watching the crowds peacefully as he did, enjoying the simple pleasure of soaking in the chaotic energy of-

A shiver ran down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. That wasn't a good sign. Briefly, he looked at the pancake. Poison? Mm, no. His gaze went back up, bright green gaze sweeping the crowd of dirty, darkly-clothed individuals, looking for whatever it was. His searching was interrupted sharply by a screeching he recognized as belonging to a TIE-style engine. He quickly located the source of the sound, a masked fellow he'd seen before once or twice parking a modified-looking airspeeder. He didn't appreciate the vehicle long, however, as he suddenly noticed outliers in the crowd that inevitably pulled his sight to them. While he did take note of the tall, masked, white-furred individual (and was briefly amused by the distinctly humaniform mask) what really drew his eye was the very clean, very bright, very familiar dress of the one next to him. A shiver ran through him again, pretty much confirming what he had guessed at this point. At least, assuming other people weren't wandering around in antique-age Jedi robes besides ol' Masky Mcbombsalot, Lord and Master of being a complete pain in the ass.

He stood, sighing softly and tossing the remains of his food into a nearby bin and slipping into the crowd, allowing his presence in the Force to sink into the flow of everyone else, shoulders slightly lowered and the sides of the coat concealing his arms. Right hand resting against his blaster just in case he began to approach the distant figures through the crowd, small smirk on his face and a mischievous light twinkling in his eyes. While nothing would really stop someone from seeing his tall figure approaching, he was hoping to get close enough to at least enact his non-violent plan before fighting would become necessary.

There were alternatives to fighting, after all, and what Hannibal was planning would ideally at least knock the guy off balance. He was wary of the other one, though. He was someone new, and he looked like the kind of guy who had a natural talent for smash, if his size and build were any indication.

@Phoenix @Logan @Noctyr

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak kept walking as Kholvar - wow, he was a big one, wasn't he? - came up next to him. Well if there was a fight he would at least be... large. Hopefully all would turn out smoothly, though nothing ever seemed to manage to on Nar Shaddaa. It was a planet that every corner and crevice was filled with someone looking to prey on the weakest link. Looking at a world like this certainly explained why the Sith Eternal thought some worlds needed a purge.

Yes, are you? was the answer to the question. It wasn't very exciting and didn't reveal very much, perhaps to the disappointment of the Knight of Ren. Knights of Ren... I didn't even think they were still around anymore, he mused to himself. His information had said they were all wiped out a century ago, and yet here one stood... or at least a poser.

Kicking a Hutt while he was down... yes, that was somewhat what Talak was doing, but his reputation after this would be one that would strike fear - and anger - into the hearts of the Syndicates, and that was what Talak needed.

I think you wanted to say "foolish," he commented, noting the use of the word "brave." Whether Talak thought it was brave, foolish, or something in between wasn't entirely clear. He was being intentionally cryptic because... well, he didn't trust very many people.

He felt a tingle across his neck, that incredibly familiar sensation of being hunted. He was growing rather tired of feeling it all the time, but then, he was asking for it wearing this same gear again. That was kind of the point.

Get ready. Do you feel it? he asked quickly and quietly. As he understood it the cat-man wanted to learn more about the Force, so here was an opportunity to hone his senses, which in Talak's opinion, was one of the most important abilities that one had. This wasn't someone being curious or noticing, this was intent and it felt... somehow familiar perhaps. Great, someone I know? Typical...

He didn't waste any time in breaking the course of his stride and hoped Kholvar would follow. He tore away from the main thoroughfare and out to an open balcony (left side of picture) that overlooked another smaller walkway below that was all but devoid of people. The balcony continued on to the South, but Talak was more interested in confronting whoever this was this time than running. @Mr. Teatime @Logan @Noctyr

 

[Kholvar Varaxes]

Kholvar didn't bother answering Talak's first question with anything but dismissive huff of air from his nose. If he wasn't prepared he wouldn't have shown up in the first place. For all of his shortcomings as a terrible, selfish and malicious person, one thing Kholvar was not was someone who would show up for a job unprepared. Above all else he valued his own life, and people who didn't have a plan typically parted with theirs far sooner than those that did.

"Foolish is still nicer than the first several words that came to mind," He said with a small chuckle. Through his mask the laugh sounded weird; a strange garbled, mechanical mix of highs and lows. It was then that Talak asked him a new and far more engaging question. "Yes." Was Kholvar's only reply.

It was likely that Kholvar didn't feel it in the same way that Talak did. His training in the force was likely minimal in comparison but Kholvar had been a criminal and more importantly, a hunter for nearly his entire life. Instincts could carry you far in both professions and one of the primary ones you honed was that feeling someone was... watching you.

Keeping in lock-step with Talak, Kholvar followed him off the main thoroughfare and onto the balcony. It was out of the way of many of the prying eyes that would be on the previous street, which was smart. If someone was tailing them it would be best to snuff out their flame in the privacy of their own.. abandoned portion of duracrete.

Pulling out his vibroknife, Kholvar held it firmly in his hand as his eyes scanned the area from where they had just come. He was curious to see what kind of simpleton would show their face. Hopefully their mother's weren't expecting to have an open casket funeral for them.

@Phoenix @Mr. Teatime @Noctyr

 

[Brahe Sienar]

Ever since the events Brahe had experienced on Teth, the padawan had felt the lure of the dark side creep at the edges of his soul, goading him on to seek it out, to take it for his own. And when the familiar feeling of that same cold, dark corruption waded into the area, it called to him like a siren's song. The padawan got up, following Kholvar and Talak not because he necessarily knew something bad was about to happen, but because the lure of the dark side was intoxicating. He wanted answers. He wanted closure. He wanted to know the deepest, darkest secrets of the universe.

He was afraid of what his natural affinity for the dark side meant to him- a boy who had taken up the mantle of Jedi. But in many ways, he was just a kid with a laser sword, pretending to be something that he might not really be. Brahe remembered the scoldings Master Mila gave him- how for some reason the Jedi's lessons rarely ever rung true with his heart. How he felt the adrenaline and excitement of being in a starfighter cockpit was what made him feel truly alive, at one with the force. He followed those two onto the balcony, stopping short about 10 meters, his curiosity getting the better of himself.

And it was evident that the force had led him here- those around him could likely feel it. The curiosity. The hunger for knowledge of the dark, buried secret that was the dark side of the force. Those two gentlemen, dressed in all their livery, looked like Jedi. Did they understand the true nature of what Brahe was experiencing? He had to know. He wanted to know.

Part of him screamed at him in his mind that this was dangerous- after the announcement calling for the death or capture of all lightsaber wielders, Brahe was quite aware that the dark side was indeed at play here. But the thirst for knowledge was more powerful in the boy, and so he went regardless.

All he was, was a 5'6" teenage boy in a mask. Hardly the intimidating look. It was clear in his body language that he was confused by what the force led him to - why he had decided to follow a random group of strangers. His feelings betrayed him rather openly, and anyone with a modicum of force sense could tell that there was a certain coldness around Brahe- evidence of dark side corruption.

"Who are you?" He said, feeling in the force for any modicum of intent emanating from the two on the balcony.

@Phoenix @Mr. Teatime @Logan

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

As the sneaky Knight approached the pair steadily through the crowd, he found himself disappointed when they moved away from the main street and off through a small doorway. Escaping the crowds sort of completely ruined his initial plan of announcing at maximum volume the saber-user status of the masked one to the gathered crowds, but he supposed at least a new location would keep civilians out of the way. He was somewhat surprised, however, when the masked TIE-rider had also made to follow the pair, slipping through the doorway ahead of him.

His smirk wavered slightly more towards a frown on noting the mixed sense the boy gave off through the Force, the stain of darkness hanging around him like a foul miasma. Hannibal didn't waver, however, clicking his commlink several times in a pattern to call his droid Ego and unbutton his cuffs, rolling the sleeves neatly up above his elbows, colorful and varied tattoos revealed to the neon lights of the smuggler's moon. A cigarra was lit and placed between his lips and the strap over his blaster was unclipped, the weapon itself slipped out of the holster and casually leaned against the holster itself beneath his jacket, ready to use without being terribly obvious.

Adjusting his walk he slipped through the balcony doorway a few seconds after Brahe had, preceded by the sound of sturdy leather boots on metal flooring and a plume of exhaled smoke, moving past and behind the masked young man but keeping a similar distance to the other two. The cigarra had been moved to his left hand, delicately held between two fingers. His expression had also shifted, from a confident smirk to positively impish, like a small boy finding out for the first time the best and funniest ways to annoy his parents or a cat with pushing a mug off a table. In comparison his aura in the Force gave off no real malice or anything much at all, his species giving him an advantage when it came to being read that way, though if anything was an impression of playful excitement.

He chose to answer the young Brahe's question himself, cigarra waving slightly through the air as he spoke. "A dastardly duo of dynamic douchebags, daring to destroy, dismember, and distract with distressingly dangerous, if dreadfully dreary designs. Durr'd like them dead, no doubt." He smiled sweetly, rather at odds to his mildly venomous and sing-songy tone of voice. "Mister Mcbombalot! So good to see you again, Masky." He directly addressed the robed and masked man this time, vaguely waving his hand in his direction and briefly pulling on his cigarra and looking like he was on the verge of a laughing fit. He really was having too much fun with this. "You really should stop wearing that outfit. It seems terribly politically incorrect, seeing as you're not actually a Jedi. At least introduce me to your new friend! Coming up with names is such a pain, and that grimacing mask of his doesn't tell me he's much of a good sport."

Ridiculousness aside, Hannibal has keeping a close eye on the both of them since the moment he could see them, noting the wider one's readied vibro weapon and watching for reaction or intention both physically and through the Force. It's not often he got to practice Dun Moch on dark siders, and how they may react could tell him a surprisingly amount about them as people. As before, his stun-set blaster pistol sat balanced against its holster, and while his left hand was occupied, the cigarra could be swiftly replaced with his concealed lightsaber. It was going to take Ego several more seconds to repulsor its way to Hannibal's position, so perhaps they would at least indulge his bullshit until then.

@Phoenix @Logan @Noctyr

 

[Talak Rand]

The Arcanist held his lightsaber hilt lazily in his left hand as everyone started to emerge in order to follow the two out here. These people were oddly obsessed with him. The first one to emerge, The Arcanist didn't recognize, but he could sense the conflict within him. Was he a Jedi? Or an independent Force user? He couldn't imagine the Jedi would look so kindly on the darkness lingering within him.

Ah yes, here's the other one, he thought to himself as the other man came strolling out to meet them. There was a tension building in the air between them, but he didn't actually sense malice emanating from either of them. Perhaps averting a fight would be possible after all, but he wasn't too hopeful.

How long had this guy been planning this alliteration for? He had definitely sat down and thought about this before.

You have no idea what I am, he corrected. Certainly he could assume the Arcanist wasn't a Jedi, but he couldn't actually know that it wasn't one from within his Order who had left the conventional path. Even if the Jedi didn't believe it, it was a seed of doubt that would likely take root. While they may have disagreed with the Arcanist's means, their goals were... actually not that disparate.

Defending slavers and murderers so they can continue to enslave and murder seems like it puts their blood on your hands, no? he asked, this time directed at the younger of the two Force users. That was something that the Jedi would no doubt try to rationalize away, but it was fact. The Arcanist had been seen slaughtering human traffickers who had been doing unspeakable things when he was killing them. He had killed people forcing slaves into blood duels to the death. His other two attacks had been against the Syndicates and their assets as well. There were things Talak had done in his life that he regretted... killing those people was not one of them.

What do you want? he immediately followed up before opening the door for an argument. He was sure they'd want to fight, which was ironic considering what they were supposed to be, but he would happily force them into hypocrisy by forcing them to be the first to strike people who weren't interested in fighting them. Kill me to keep me from killing killers. Ironic, he thought.

He didn't know how his partner would feel about launching into a philosophical debate with their opponents, but sometimes violence wasn't the best answer... sometimes. Were he to be attacked at any point during his comments, he would respond accordingly and break off his comments, but that wasn't his goal. @Mr. Teatime @Logan @Noctyr

 

[Kholvar Varaxes]

It didn't take long for their pursuers to reveal themselves but all things considered, Kholvar was relatively disappointed with who they ended up being. The first was a mere child, his very soul shaking in its boots by the aura he was giving off through the force. Hell, the Trianii wouldn't be surprised if there was piss running down the kid's leg. He was clearly out of his element.

The second to show was an adult at least, and far more confident. He spoke many words, none of them worth remembering, and Kholvar couldn't help but arch an eyebrow beneath his mask as it became evident that his partner knew who the stranger was. That, at least, did add a little excitement to the activities.

Kholvar almost audibly laughed when Talak got to his point about murderers and slavers. Clearly Kholvar had done his job in concealing his identity, considering he was both a murderer and a slaver. He wondered how Talak would reconcile that should he ever figure it out. Oh well, the burdens on one's conscience were of no concern to him. To pretend to have some moral high ground while gallivanting around as a terrorist was kind of humorous. Hypocrisy seemed to be a foreign concept to both the Eternals and the Jedi. Idiots.

"They don't know what they want or we wouldn't still be standing here," Kholvar said idly, his eyes moving from Hannibal back to Brahe. The grip on his weapon tightened. To win a fight against unknown adversaries required patience. He was confident one or both of their visitors would provide an opportunity, and Kholvar would not hesitate to capitalize. He kept his eyes on the boy, envisioning ripping his head off and drinking the blood from his neckhole like someone else might crack open a bottle of beer.

Returning to his previous silence, Kholvar kept his attention on both of the Jedi. He would react if they did something hasty, but for now he was content to participate in this poor man's Corellian standoff. Talak had asked a question and he probably deserved an answer.

@Phoenix @Mr. Teatime @Noctyr

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Though his expression scarcely changed, Hannibal give the Arcanist's words some thought. Technically speaking, he was targeting criminals on the more horrendous side of things, the same sort Hannibal himself hunted down, though admittedly the masked terrorist was relying on a far more permanent solution. He suspected the intent behind going after them was different, but that was a series of thoughts for another time. Whether the man was actually part of the Order or not, something entirely possible considering how little Hannibal actually bothered visiting the temple, blowing up spice dens and the like wasn't precisely what one might call 'Jedi like'. Certainly his old teacher Theo wouldn't approve in the least.

His eyes swept briefly over both of them, eyeing up the bulky looking one for a moment and his tense staring at the masked shorty to Hannibal's right. From their reactions to Hannibal's half-mad and rambling entrance, he could determine a couple things. The Arcanist was clearly not a fan of how the Jedi Order were handling things, and was either one of their own who was off on a spree or someone who wanted people to think he was. His quick defense and accusatory reversal of blame could show either somewhat shallow thinking or a gift for debate, though Hannibal didn't think he was the slow sort. One didn't pull off what he'd been pulling off with rocks for brains.

The other one, who had been internally dubbed Chungus Knifejoy in lieu of a proper introduction, gave Hannibal the impression he would rather be murdering something rather than standing around, a fighter through and through. His casual tone indicated a certain calm that came with being used to danger. The man didn't come off as the planning type, but that wasn't always easy to tell from the surface. His ability to read them was significantly hindered by the both of them wearing full masks so he gave up at that point took a drag of his cigarra, tossing the remainder off the edge to his left.

Finger tapping idly against his blaster, he looked directly at the Arcanist.

"You think killing a few spice-rats and slavers solves anything? Congratulations, oh mighty saviour, you've caused the Syndicates so much trouble it might just show up as a fraction of a rounding error in their books. I bet by now they've found a new location and more souls to move their garbage." He spoke sharply, as if admonishing someone who had made a mistake. While Hannibal had no love for the sorts of people that tended to work for the Syndicates, he wasn't terribly keen on blowing them up or killing them, especially when it didn't really do anything in the long run. Not that he had any much sympathy for most of those slaughtered in the Holonet video. Hutt crime lords were objectively vile parasites with criminal empires spanning millennia, but he'd rather see them rot amongst those they'd wronged than wholesale slaughter.

Hannibal wasn't exactly expecting the man to be rattled by this revelation, but maybe he'd do some thinking. This sort of thing was just so much harder with the damn mask in the way. Lazily, Hannibal indicated with his left hand the satchel the Arcanist was lugging around."Have more bombs today? Going to blow up some other pointless target? If you really wanted to make a difference, you'd target refineries or the mines themselves, not the distribution." Another pause, much shorter this time.

He'd already thought through a scenario where he met them again, since he was actively going after him at this point, though he hadn't entirely expected anything resembling a proper conversation. It had taken him several minutes of his life to come up with that little introduction after all, but that was just the tip of the things he'd thought of. Ego was likely to take a little longer to get here, so he'd just keep it up. Better to talk things out than fight in the middle of a city, anyway.

He held out his left hand, gloved palm up towards the Arcanist. Grin shifting into a smirk and eyes narrowing slightly, he offered what he wanted.

"I want your lightsaber." He said simply and evenly, letting the words hang in the air like the last cloud of cigarra smoke. Of course, there were many ways one could give or offer a lightsaber, several different interpretations of the spoken phrase. It would be telling which interpretation the Arcanist heard. The only change in his expression as he waited was a raised eyebrow. He still kept ready to fight, if needed, but he'd really rather not if it could be avoided.

@Phoenix @Logan @Noctyr

 

[Brahe Sienar]

Brahe hesitated, unsure of what to do. On one hand, these fellows seemed to have the intention to bomb people, but on the other hand, this was a hive of scum and villainy, not necessarily an innocent target. And then there was this stranger, Hannibal. A man who seemed to already have a grasp of what exactly was going on....or at least acted like he did. Almost like they had met each other before.

Brahe could feel the tension in the air, a gut feeling that everything could become chaotic in an instant. Talak was right- these people were slavers and murderers. Brahe felt like maybe these people deserved what was coming to them. But on the other hand, killing wasn't necessarily the Jedi way.

Then Hannibal asked Talak for his lightsaber, and that raised only more questions in Brahe's mind. He lied a bit about who he was, but it was more because he was interested in answers. Answers and knowledge.

"I'm just a street racer...but...I....I feel something. It's hard to describe, but it's coming from you." He pointed at Talak.

"Cold. I want to know what that is, and why I can't seem to ignore it."

@Logan @Mr. Teatime @Phoenix