Best Friends for Never

[Keira Priest]

Theme

"Don't you know, don't you know? True friends stab you in the front."​

​

It had been a few years, but Keira was never the best at forgiving and forgetting. Retribution was the sole force that had driven her many times, spurring her on when all else failed. Eventually that had settled within her, disguising itself beneath the layers of what other issues were far more pressing. But it never left, always simmering beneath the surface, rearing its head every now and again to remind her that it was still present and slow in leaving, if it ever would at all. It was something she had come dangerously close to giving up her life for, only pulling back when she saw no other way out. Revenge had its way of taking its hold on her and turning any rational thought to nothing more than smoke in the wind, but now she had gained some semblance of control over it. Now she was better, more sensible and less impulse-driven.

Mostly.

There had been a few slip-ups, a few times where she had almost given in again. Was this one of those? That was a good question. It didn't seem like it, but she had always been a bad judge of whether what she was doing was right or wrong or in some morally grey area none had yet to explore. It wasn't like she was doing anything exactly illegal or endangering to herself or others. That by itself was a change, and something worth a pat on the back in her mind. She couldn't recall the last time when she hadn't sacrificed something in order to gain what she wanted. And that 'something' was usually the life of another sentient. This had been a largely bloodless endeavor, though she wasn't sure how long it would remain that way, given the quarry she sought. Even the most predictable individuals had a way of being surprising if they put their minds to it. And after the behavior this one had exhibited in the past, she wasn't sure what everything would amount to. Only time would tell.

It wasn't as if she didn't want to hurt him. There were times when she had willed nothing more than to beat him bloody. To knock him down so that he might not stand up again, or at least for awhile. But she couldn't. For all that had transpired between she and [member="Cryax Bane"], she couldn't bring herself to give him a rather physical demonstration regarding the error of his ways. In some sense that would have been the easy way out. To inflict the pain he had caused back on him would have been simple and over in a heartbeat. And, as much as she didn't want to admit it, that would have made things boring. Because he didn't deserve something so simple, not after what had happened. What he'd said and done, all that he'd had a hand in, that was too much to simply let him off with something akin to a warning. He deserved more than that. Much more.

The fight that had occurred between them, if it could be called that, wasn't enough. It had been on a digital plane, but in an environment wholly similar to one she was used to. Battlefields never changed, no matter if they were in reality or a waking dream world. But somehow she had still lost, and it had weighed on her conscience, for a time. Her intentions going in had been simple: beat him at his own game and return to reality so that she might do the same there. Instead she had walked away with her head hung low rather than held high, and so the story remained, for a time. A stalemate had been reached, and she didn't dare strike out again until she felt certain she was prepared to face him once again, no matter the venue. Nothing else would serve, and she wouldn't allow herself to fail again. Not to someone like this, who was hardly deserving of her time anymore.

Even that had faded, leaving her with nothing to strive for but her own survival as the dark corruption that had taken root began to eat away further at her sanity. It had cumulated with the recent battle on Ziost, after which she had been changed forever. Now she was on something of the right track, residing just as much in the light as the dark, maintaining a tenuous balance that was always in danger of tipping one way or another. In some ways it made her more volatile and susceptible to snapping. In others, however, she was far more balanced. Things didn't come to violence quite so easily, and she wasn't so quick to shoot first and ask questions later. It was a change, and one she wasn't quite sure how to feel about just yet. That changed when Cryax came to mind again. No matter how rational her thought process, payback still seemed like a good idea.

That eventually brought her to Csilla, the homeworld of the Chiss. Somehow he had managed to finagle his way into another position of immense power, this time the Imperial Governor of the very icy world she stood on. Just like in the past, his standing here didn't concern her, nor did any immediate threats to her survival, such as whatever guards he may have present. Those could be just as easily disarmed as the last time. The man of the hour himself was another matter altogether. She wasn't quite sure how she would be received, or how she would receive him, for that matter. But first she was in the business of locating him. Word had gotten out that the governor would be doing a PR tour of one of the cities, and it was those streets she found herself walking, searching for one blue-skinned and crimson-eyed face that stood out in a sea of people so identical to one another.

Of course, the guards didn't help with his inconspicuity, nor did the Ysalamir that voided his presence in the Force. Two could play at this obvious lack of subtlety. It would begin with her simply bumping into his shoulder with her own as she walked past. His move.

 

[Cryax Bane]

Cryax Bane always seemed to find himself accidentally thrust into positions of great power. The problem was that he never allowed himself to actually drink the sweet honey of his influence. He was usually too paranoid, had too shiny of a chip on his shoulder, and was too wary of scheming underlings. Contrary to his expectations, his new position as the Will of Csilla, the One Sith puppet governor of the Chiss homeworld, was much a more enjoyable endeavor than he had thought it would be when the title was thrust upon him by Darth Vornskr. Being a politician was a bit like being the head of a major galactic crime syndicate, except his role was actually legitimate in some way. Once he got used to the fact that the Chiss people hated him, Bane found that the position itself was ridiculously easy, and the perks were even better than those offered any Outer Rim crime lord. It was only a matter of time before he discovered that whatever situation he found himself in, he could usually milk with a juicy bribe or a threat of One Sith retaliation. It was good to be the Will of of Csilla. If only he could get his approval ratings up above the negatives it would be perfect.

The Chiss Parliament meeting hadn't gone as smoothly as he had hoped. The ruling families were as usual loathe to discuss anything else but how to get the Sith out of their proverbial backyards. The truth was, the Sith weren't going anywhere, but Bane had to play along, to placate, and to wheedle. He wasn't too worried about a rebellion. The ruling families were too locked in their own internal power struggles to pose any real problem to the One Sith. The ones to watch out for was House Chaf. They seemed to be making the biggest waves when it came to...

A sharp jab in the shoulder, broke him from his thoughts. "Hey!" he exclaimed amid the click of Charric rifles being aimed at the stranger, who oddly enough, wasn't a stranger at all. His Ysalamir, let out an enormous yawn from where it sat on his shoulders, nestled in its nutrient backpack. Despite its bladder control issues, Nailgun was a constant companion to the planetary governor, so much so, that the large bronze monument to the Will of Csilla standing in the square outside the parliament building, even contained the lizard.

Glowing red eyes blinked ferociously. Bane was so stunned to see her here that he almost forgot that the two of them were enemies.

"Keira Ticon? What in Blazes are you doing here?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

It seemed as if Keira hadn't heard him, for a time, simply continuing to walk. As all things that nonchalance couldn't last forever, and she made a turn within the crowd, unable to bring herself to care about the civilians that surrounded her. Impromptu Jedi or no, their lives were only a concern to her when they were in immediate danger. Right now only one particular Chiss was the priority, and it was him she stood in front of in the next moment, something akin to a slow teasing smile on her lips, eyes that had once been a haunting amber now an attention-grabbing and soul-splitting blue. His apparent surprise only added to her amusement, a deprecating chuckle escaping her lips. Years had passed since their last meeting, and yet somehow he still seemed the same. But he had always been like that, running back to those that had hurt him in the first place.

Her brow knitted together as if in brief confusion, but even she couldn't keep up that serious mask for more than a few seconds. Another quiet laugh broke through, that smile never leaving her lips. Ever since her redemption she'd been able to smile and laugh far more easily than before, an air of carelessness accompanying her, one of an almost dangerous sort. She felt weightless, entirely free from the shackles both mental and physical that had bound her so tightly before. It seemed as if he was still restrained by his old chains, ones borne of his own fault and seeming willingness to return to the individuals that had broken him down. Masochistic tendencies were a funny thing, ones he seemed to be altogether too familiar with. If only it was so easy for her to lose herself in the cobwebs of her own mind. But those were confines she had escaped.

The guns leveled at her were viewed as nothing more than harmless toys in her eyes, the weapon at her side an efficient barrier against any attacks his guards could muster. "Are you really that stupid, Cryax? I always took you for the more observant sort, but I guess I was wrong. You really are as ignorant as you look." For all the unrestrained insults her tone was purely conversational, and she took her time in pulling a cigarette and placing it in her lips, cupping her hands around the flame of her lighter as she brought it to the tip, inhaling smoke and pocketing the small device. Smoking was a habit she had nearly kicked completely, but sometimes a bad choice was needed in order to relax her and curb her from doing something worse. And right now 'worse' meant her bashing his head in or similarly carving out his throat with her plasma blade.

Slowly she tilted her head to one side, arms crossed across her chest, bemused expression never taking its leave. "But forgive me, it slipped my mind that I'm just another Corellian that doesn't know any better. You were quite fond of reminding me of that point the last time. Changed your mind?" When she spoke she took the cigarette between index and middle finger, blowing a grey cloud of smoke to one side. Had he been sensitive to the same energy field as she he would have been able to feel the waves of unrestrained volatility rolling off of her, though it was of a much tamer sort than that which had nipped at her heels in the past. Perhaps in a sense she was appearing as unstable as she had been in the past, but she had never felt more in control than she did in this moment. This was a feeling she never knew she needed, that one of complete self-assuredness.

Each step was carefully placed as she approached him, her demeanor entirely open and relaxed in every aspect. Her cigarette returned to her lips, and she only stopped when she was directly in front of him, well within the appropriate conversational distance. Less than a foot of empty space separated the pair. "I'm surprised you don't even have the slightest of ideas." Not that she had really given him a chance to speak. And it didn't seem as if his Chiss bodyguards were intent on offering their opinions, either. Still the barrels of their rifles remained stubbornly trained on her form. Somehow she knew the man before her wouldn't allow them to fire. "I want you to tell me exactly what you're thinking, Governor." Her use of his professional title was more than a touch patronizing, not that he should have expected much different. Assuming nothing stopped her she would reach up, holding her cigarette between index finger and thumb, pressing the burning end to his chest just above his collarbone. "Go ahead, guess."

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

Keira karking Ticon in the flesh. Cryax could hardly believe it. The wounds of his dramatic split with the Red Ravens had healed, for him anyway, and weirdly he was almost happy to see her. Maybe Keira was here to mend fences, or something. He didn't know. He hadn't thought about Keira, Patricia, or even Lysle Rigger in ages. It became clear what she was after when she began to insult him.

Bane's bodyguards, all Chiss, with a few droids sprinkled in for good measure, simultaneously panned to the governor's red alien orbs in case he gave a lethal order. He didn't, but he had to ask him himself: Had Keira gone fething mad? Even if Cryax didn't have Nailgun perched on his back, there was no way that she would get away with threatening him here on his snowy home turf.

And yet. Cryax watched almost in slow motion as the lit cigarette in Keira's hand was pressed into his flesh. His eyes narrowed to slits, but he didn't wince or complain. Cryax's pain tolerance was legendary at this point, especially given that he'd been tortured by half the galaxy. If there was one thing he could grin and bear, it was physical pain. The bright orange end of her cigarette might as well have been a feather brushing against his blue skin.

"If you've come here to kill me, Keira, you're in the wrong place," His gaze was impassive. Without even looking down, he flicked the cigarette out of her hands.

"You'd have better chances on Coruscant. The Chiss may hate me, but they'd never let a Moactan Teel kill one of their own."

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"That's where you're wrong, Cryax," Two could play at this game of apathetic nonchalance, her demonstration beginning with a final cloud of smoke blown directly in his face, "You're not one of them. And you never will be." Not that Keira was really one to talk, given that she would always be regarded as an outsider simply because of her species. It wasn't her call to make, whether or not he would ultimately be accepted by his people. But there were a few things she knew about the man itself that most didn't see beyond the surface of a precise political figure. Where most of the Chiss were almost entirely emotionless he was wont to let his idle thoughts and feelings control him. It was no surprise that he fit in so well among the Sith. After all that had happened in his life previously, it seemed that he enjoyed being controlled, from looking in as she was.

And from that viewpoint looking in she realized she wasn't entirely sure as to what this was all about anymore. None of this was still enmity reserved from his betrayal, that much was certain. That relatively minor infraction had been all but forgotten mere months after the last of the commotion had died down. Even she herself had carried on relatively normally after the Ravens themselves had dissolved. Now her life was lived alongside a number of Jedi sects, though she never allowed herself to be roped into joining officially by any means. That non-allegiance granted her the opportunity for excursions like this with no real repercussions from any one higher power. At this point she wasn't entirely sure what those repercussions would be about or for. Well, except for the all too tempting thought of ending things rather permanently.

One booted foot shifted to stub out the final embers of the cigarette, perhaps a metaphor of sorts for the fire of her want for revenge subduing itself. "I don't really have to explain things to you." There wasn't anything she owed him, not anymore. "But you should know that this isn't really about the Ravens, or about what you did to betray them." Still already she was referring to the criminal syndicate as an entity separate from herself, despite not having called Antecedent or the Dragon Palace home for years. "This is about you taking all of those bonds you created for granted and willingly selling off your friends just so you could be safe from some Vong that was a pet of the Sith we were allied with in the first place. This is about you selling your friends out so you can live another day. Letting us take the fall. Almost killing your boyfriend, of all people. This is about you not having the guts to do everything face-to-face."

Ironic, considering he then had the stones to lead another criminal syndicate on Coruscant and work closely with a number of Sith Lords that could kill him with a wave of their hand, with or without the Force. And she was capable of much of the same. "I'm not here to kill you, per se. Not so long as the both of us walking away is an option. No matter how absolutely tempting the mere thought of ending your life is, I like to think I'm better than that now." At least now she had a better conscience, or one that functioned as it was intended. "You don't have to worry about anyone dying today. Neither do your friends, not that they would be able to do much either way." His Verpine bodyguards had been just as useless in their previous meeting, and she had no doubt the Chiss would prove to be just as, well, not helpful despite their ever alert presence.

"No, this is about you not answering the question that I asked you the last time. A question I think you already have some idea of, though not in the correct context." Her close proximity didn't shift one step forward or back. "I want to know why. Yes, I know about what the Sith offered you, about how you supposedly have this better life now among them as a puppet. But I made the same mistake once. I joined the people that tortured me, The Primeval, and I ended up in a similar situation. A slave. But unlike you I had the greater sense to break free and once more seek out a life worth living." Somehow she had a feeling that he was hardly genuinely enjoying this new chance at life among the people responsible for his near-death countless times. Reaching down she palmed her lightsaber, pressing the emitter against his abdomen should he not reach down and stop her. "And don't think about calling for any sort of reinforcements or giving an order you'd regret. I'm not above killing with a reason."

[member="Cryax Bane"]

 

[Cryax Bane]

As Cryax felt the edge of the metal saber pommel digging into his abdomen, he chuckled darkly. Keira could wave that lightsaber around as much as she wanted, but with Nailgun strapped on his back, the blade would do no damage. He shook his head, weary of her theatrics.

"Oh Keira," he said scornfully. "You're eager to prove that you're big and tough. When you're just a scared little girl inside. I should have these Chiss open fire on you and just put you out of your misery already."

He roughly pushed her saber arm away, an action that caused movement among his bodyguards. A blue hand was raised, signalling for them to hold their fire. Their charric rifles were not lowered however.

"Ah the Red Ravens. That's a name that hardly crosses my mind anymore. You know, the thing about the old days is...they're the old days."

He grinned, a smug salesman leer, and held out his hands. Why he didn't just kill her on the spot right then and there, he'd never know.

"Let's make a deal, Ticon. How about you put the old days behind you. And in exchange, I let you live?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Her demeanor was a toss-up between ice and fire, shifting between dangerously careless and chiseled seriousness with seemingly nothing more than her own wanton and unpredictable choice. This at once made her more deadly and yet easier to reason with, her newfound sanity offering her a clearer view and grip on reality while also allowing her to realize just how little certain things mattered. Rather unfortunately for him, within that realm of 'certain things' his life resided, and she was one misstep away from hollowing out his throat with superheated orange plasma. If he knew what a precarious thread he was currently hanging by, perhaps he would be loath to continue speaking, lest it finally snap. Or maybe he regarded his own life with the same apathy she imparted upon her own survival. After all, Cryax was just as unpredictable as herself.

That unpredictability didn't seem to extend the next words he spoke, and once again that uncaring, mirthful laugh escaped her, reminiscent of one a child would possess upon discovering their favorite plaything. Hers just happened to be the blue-skinned man that she stood toe-to-toe with. And, whether he realized it or not, he was just as fragile as a child's toy when compared to her own talent in the deadly arts. The ysalamir did little to hinder things, and she regarded the other Chiss as a minute nuisance at best. Had she come here with decidedly more violent intentions there would have been nothing he could have done to stop her. As it stood, she was more interested in conversation, however unorthodox and barely civil it was adding up to be. There was still a chance he wouldn't walk away from things, but he wouldn't be leaving in a bodybag. Not today.

"I don't need to prove anything, least of all to someone like you." There was ice on the surface of her mottled glare, a strange miasma of serenity and violence lingering beneath the surface, one that made for as strange a combination as the colors that mingled in her irises. It was a sign that he was pushing his luck, and that wasn't a wise decision to make, especially when he was so low on it to begin with. Running into her on a planet like this was nothing short of a hallmark of bad omens. While he had a reputation to uphold, she had nothing more than a score to settle. It was far easier for her to step out of line. "If I wanted to show you how big and tough I was I wouldn't have bothered even giving you the time of day. You wouldn't have had time to say anything, because there would be a blade between your shoulder blades before your guards could so much as blink."

A strange sort of nostalgia overtook her when the name of the infamous criminal syndicate fell past his lips, and she was swept up in a myriad of memories, some pleasant while others she would have much rather forgotten, all of them tied to that name in one manner or another. A trance-like state overtook her, and she swayed slightly where she stood, all of her senses lingering on the past rather than the present, where they belonged and were needed. The last vision she was left with was the two of them embracing after her return from being tortured by the Primeval and his agony at the hands of the Vong. In a flash she returned to the present, shaking off that reverie just as quickly as it had rooted itself firmly in her subconscious, life once more returning to her eyes and form. But there was a softness to her otherwise sharp-edged demeanor.

Where typically the emitter of her weapon would have been pressed to the underside of his chin it remained at her side, her grip around it confidently loose, as always. When next she spoke her voice was quiet, enough so that most would have to focus carefully to hear it, though it didn't lose any of its volatility in the least. If anything it only heightened such a perception. "I'll make a proposal of my own. You answer what I asked you just a few minutes ago, and I don't kill everyone here. I don't need the Force to cut you all into pieces, and I don't care if I die, either. You're playing a game you have no experience in, Cryax. There's a reason you always have to have guards around. You don't know how to take care of yourself." Her head cocked slightly to one side. "But prove me wrong. Ditch the lizard and call your men off. I dare you."

[member="Cryax Bane"]