Private By The Pricking Of My Thumbs

[Leven Jeyd]

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Equipment: Short axes, lightsaber.
Tagging: Jonah

​

She had always been a creature of the night. Afterall, darkness welcomed those of her inclinations with open arms. The Jester once again found herself alone in the galaxy. No masters or kings to follow, no one to guide the fickleness of her interests. The years had been kind to the strange creature. Her body had grown stronger, and hungry. She had learned to satisfy her needs by feasting on the minds of those around her until the life had drained from them, or little worth living for was left. Knowledge was something she now sought willingly. She was entitled to it. What better way to die than to render one's memories, secrets, and conciousness to the masterpiece of creation that was her?

The planet that had seen her birth provided the perfect hunting grounds. Nar Shaddaa was brimming with great and terrible minds, just as much as it was brimming with propsects to pin the blame of any atrocious doings on. And Leven had become a master at her craft. Yes, she no longer lived in a big castle, but her hoard of treasures had grown and surprisingly, her sights had switched to fewer material endeavors. Her visits to Illyria were still frequent, after all the creature had made those terrible mountains her nest - but now she had no strings attached, the whole galaxy was her oyster.

The doppelganger moved through the empty alleys of the slums during the dead of night. A dark piece of cloth wiping away the remaining red stains from one of her axes' edges. It had been a bountiful night, and she was ready to retreat back into her hole. But then that tingling feeling deep within her core decided to rear its head. And she giggled. Looks like there was more to be discovered in this part of town, and her curiosity would not tolerate being ignored. Leven stopped dead in her tracks, and proceeded to roll her neck which produced a cracking noise that was simply inhuman - with the strength she had applied to the movement she should have broken it.

"Showtime~"

The leap she made was so quick it would have seem she had disappeared to the naked eye, one of her boney hands now clinging to the wall of one of the nearby buildings before she concluded her climb to the top, eyes as white as the moon burning through the streets below them. Her skin crawled in excitement as she pulled the Force closer and closer until it became obscured, making her presence in it barely a whisp - if it was there at all. Leven liked hide and seek better when she was the one doing both. Stalking was a dear passtime, now all that remained was figuring out who or what were her beautiful senses beckoning her towards.

---

 

[Jonah]

The blade was slick with fresh blood.

Jonah had quickly learned that, of all the regions of the Galaxy, Hutt Space was among the most grimy. Outside of the fact that most of the people he ran into were gutter filth, the way they conducted business was deplorable. One was just as likely to have a deal honored as they were to have a shiv plowed into their stomach. The man learned the hard way about this shortly after landing on Nal Hutta a few weeks' back. He was chasing the whispers of power - and for his skill with a blade, he was promised said power as payment. Sadly, the only compensation he received was an attempted stabbing in the back.

This time, Jonah knew better.

Chasing the same whispers and rumors, the man offered his talents again. And once again, the would-be employer attempted to stiff-arm the foreigner. That didn't work for Jonah at all. The confrontation occurred within an alleyway that was intended to be a killbox. If Jonah didn't walk away, tail between his legs, there were men posted on the adjacent roofs with clean shots. There were thugs before him, grinning. And the employer, a loathesome Hutt, chuckled. < Business is business, thank you for your hard work. > chuckled the slime.

Jonah grit his teeth and turned, as if he was going to walk away. Yet the Force shrieked. The rooftops shuddered and cracked, with chunks breaking away. The gunmen above panicked, only to loose their footing and plummet down several stories below. The thugs about scattered, attempting to dodge the debris, leaving their employer vulnerable. It was all too easy to close the gap. All too easy to allow his blades to bite into the slug's flesh. And when it was all said and done, the Hutt slumped to the ground.

"Business is Business. Yeah I get it."

By the time Jonah was finished with the Hutt's protectors, his blades were slick with fresh blood.

Now he was free to inspect the carnage he wrought - and to once more resume his chase of the whispers.

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Equipment: Short axes, lightsaber.
Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven's eyes glowed with predatory excitement as her whole being became enthralled in the hunt. Heightened senses and her grip on the Force took her from one rooftop to the next, anticipation growing ever higher as the stirrings became more frequent, more palpable. But then all bells went off as soon as the Force rippled with the blast that was unleashed on a distant corner of the city. Briefly, she felt disappointment. She was just starting to get invested. On the other hand, this meant she was in the presence of another Force User. Well that was plenty intriguing in and of itself. Intriguing and...infuriating. An unknown Force user on her turf was an affront she could not ignore. The Jester had never played very well with others.

As she approached, the sounds of battle and the metallic scent of blood grew stronger, confirming she was on the right path. Finally, she found herself perched on a rooftop, a seat in the main box looking down upon the carnage. This one would be worth watching. The spectacle had drawn her attention not only because of the violence but due to the unmistakable presence of the Force emanating from the man wielding the blades. The Hutt’s entourage lay in disarray, their disloyalty rewarded with swift death.

She crouched low on the building’s edge, her form blending seamlessly with the darkness. The man's power was formidable, and Leven could almost taste the potential. He would not be an easy kill, should the fancy strike to go down that way. Perhaps it was not in her best interest, for now, to attempt to dispatch this entertaining threat lest the resulting roles were reversed. She didn't need a fight to get what she wanted. Plus, today she could not help the allure of such power, it had been so long since she had last toyed with another gifted one.

It was not long until she found her way to where the slaughter had taken place. The stench of fresh blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of Nar Shaddaa’s underbelly. She stepped over the fallen bodies, soundless, as her eyes locked onto him. A smirk formed on her long, ghoulish lips, he seemed to be admiring his handiwork.

"Business truly is business," she said, her silky voice carrying a mocking lilt as it echoed through the alley. "And this approach to negotiations, well, it certainly is effective... ."

She revealed herself with a slow, deliberate stride, her presence still cloaked in the Force. Leven’s appearance was unassuming, but her eyes gleamed with a calculating intensity. She stopped a few paces away, tilting her head in a curious manner.

"You’ve made quite a mess here. Do you always end your dealings with such flair, or is this one special?" Her tone was light, almost conversational, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a hint of the predator she truly was.

Leven needed to gauge his reaction, to see if he was friend or foe, useful or disposable. And above all, she needed to assert her dominance over her territory. Her eyes never left Jonah, waiting for the moment when he would acknowledge her presence fully.

As she spoke, the creature pushed subtly through the Force to probe the edges of his mind, to get a taste of his inner workings, waiting for the Force sing all his little secrets to her. After all, every encounter was an opportunity, and Leven never let an opportunity slip by.

"You must understand, this place is my hunting ground, and I don't take kindly to uninvited guests. Especially ones who make such a spectacle." Her tone was earnest, reasonable. "Don't get me wrong, your display was quite entertaining, but I'm afraid it complicates things for me..." Suddenly that whole "understanding" demeanor vanished. Her eyes turned cold, devoid of that bright spark. The tension in the air grew, the weight of a threat unmistakable.

"That will not do."

---

 

[Jonah]

Jonah had lowered to one knee.

Amidst the carnage of bodies lay valuable pieces. The man was not seeking the pocket change left within the thugs' pockets, mind. Rather, he was after those sweet whispers of power. They had lured him to make the deal with the Hutt in the first place - and sure enough, one of the bodies held a clue in the right direction. Jonah recognized the corpse in question to be a lieutenant of sorts to the Hutt. He was the one who handled the credits, the datapads, etc. In fact, he was the one who handed Jonah the contact details of his targets.

And, true to his role, there were precious gems on his person. Most notably, a datapad and a key. The former was locked, but a quick application of the dead man's finger allowed entry. And even a glance at the contents was enough that Jonah's lips curved into a smile. To make life easier down the road, the man quickly severed the finger in question. He was in the process of pocketing it when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Quickly, stashed his loot on his person and rose, setting his gaze towards the origin of the sound.

What he saw was a woman approaching him. Her stride was confident, though her appearance seemed simple. His instincts flared, telling him not to lower his guard. After all, there was no telling how many hired hands the Hutt had nearby. This could be one of them who was simply too slow to arrive at the scene. To make matters even worse, her words were haunting. They were spoken in a sickeningly sweet manner that caused Jonah's eyebrow to raise.

Finally, she asked a question, to which Jonah responded to by shaking his head. "I wouldn't so much call this negotiating." he began. "This was more...collections. A debt was made, with ample opportunities for payment." Jonah placed the tip of his vibrosword on the pavement, allowing it to balance within the center of his palm. He was making a point of showing that he was armed - but not on the offense.

Not yet anyway.

"I'd prefer if dealings were honest. If I do a job, I expect the agreed upon fee. Nothing more, nothing less. These sods tried to cheat m-"

His words trailed off, for he felt the sanctuary of his mind being prodded. Jonah's gaze narrowed. She'd quickly find that walls were being raised in the form of frivolous memories. The one time when he tried on a new pair of boots. And That one time he sampled Atrisian noodles on the street corner. It was a defense he learned a lifetime ago. Damn near a reflex at that point.

She then continued, revealing her true colors as her tone quickly turned venomous. There was tension. A threat. "Can't say I'm surprised." he began. "Seems every corner in this damn moon belongs to someone, in some way." He motioned towards her with his chin. "Wasn't my intent to infringe upon your territory. Though ignorance is hardly an excuse here, right?"

"Fortunately, I've found some information of note. I know where this crew sleeps. I know where they stash their ill-gotten gains. And I intend to rectify what they owe. I'm happy to share."

If that did not suffice, Jonah was not afraid to add another corpse to the bloody street.

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Location: Nar Shaddaa
Equipment: Short axes, lightsaber.
Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven’s eyes narrowed as she observed Jonah with spiked curiosity. It had not been a tough task to realize he was not after trinkets or valuables, but rather clues. His focus was on information, on uncovering something that had remained hidden to him — and that the shapeshifter could respect. She drifted deliberately closer, no weapons drawn, and her presence now slipped into the Force with an elegant subtlety, a little bit of give and take. Her gaze then lingered on Jonah’s vibrosword, still slick with the blood of his recent victims. She was not deterred by his posture; after all, for now he was simply a curious anomaly in her otherwise controlled domain.

The smirk returned to her lips, and slowly expanded into a ridiculously long grin hinting of sharp teeth as the man's words came to a stop. Oops. It looked like breaching his mind would take more effort, but she could be patient. The Jester still did not relent on her probing, she didn't strengthen it either, choosing to let it be just a pestering feeling that he could easily handle - perhaps even dismiss if he felt so confident in his ability to deterr her. That was alright by her. She still delected in the charmingly pedestrian display of boots and noodles, and she was happy to keep playing that game of cat and mouse until his defenses fell or something more interesting slipped past his filters. The man did not strike her as someone who would choose to indulge her.

In the meantime and as long as he did not directly confront her on it, the woman continued their conversation under that veil of guarded civility they were sharing. "Ah, how quaint," She drawled, her voice very-lightly powdered with unintentional condescension as she tilted her head to the side. "An ethical Sith. How rare. I thought we were beyond petty concerns like fairness, rather than...purveyors of honest dealings.” Even though it could very well be taken that way, the creature did not mean to offend. A Sith who spoke of ideals of honesty and fair dealings was perplexing, as it was intriguing.

Her movement graceful and unhurried, Leven kept approaching - another test, she was testing for the limits of his comfort for now she was only paces away. Her gaze flickered back to the datapad and key Jonah had recovered, what could that be about? The shapeshifter was fully unprepared to receive a proposal from the man. Collaboration? Could he get any stranger? Oh, her attention was fully engaged now.

"I may not have any immediate use for your 'ill-gotten gains,' but I am rather fond of intriguing minds. If you're willing to share what you've uncovered, perhaps there's a way for us to benefit mutually." She declared. Leven didn't give a damn about riches because those she could easily procure herself. Knowledge, on the other hand...could be more nuanced to harvest. In the end it was simple, what he knew of whatever this operation taking place in her so-called territory was, she wanted to know too. And then there was the matter of the man himself. The more she mingled through the tendrils of his presence in the Force the more certain she was he was powerful. And she wanted to know what benefits she could reap from that.

---

 

[Jonah]

The woman was uncanny.

In a very odd way, Jonah was reminded of his mother. When wandering within the halls of her inner sanctum, things were not always as they seemed. To the people of his hometown, she was their alabaster monarch. But behind closed doors? A glance would spy either a typical smile or rows of primordial teeth. Having been born from such dark depths, the woman's own smile did not unsettle him. In fact, unlike the thugs whose treachery was a bit more foreign, Jonah felt a bit more confident in dealing with her.

So it was that Jonah looked upon her with fresh eyes as she pestered his mind with a mental assault. She was as a baby sibling, poking one's arm during a ride that was going on far too long. It was annoying. Bearable, but annoying. Yet, in true elder sibling fashion, Jonah quietly swatted away her hand. As she prattled about his ethics, calling him a Sith, a dry chuckle fell from his lips. And where the gnats of her assault continued to buzz against his mind, she'd find a sudden resistance. Spare memories turned to phalanx. Shields bore her own assault, yet spears impaled in return.

They poked and prodded her own mind, attempting to return the favor. All the while, Jonah's gaze never left her face. "Whether or not we are above the ungifted, one's word is their worth. A Sith who stands on a mountain of lies will die to them." he began. "And I intend on sticking around for a long time."

Now, with the offer laid at her feet, the woman approached. Her movements were graceful - a far cry from anything that Jonah would expect from the Hutt moon. He followed her gaze, bouncing from the datapad back to his own face. Finally, when she had invaded his personal space, she spoke again. "Well, let's find out." Jonah said, before facing the datapad's screen towards her. He then briefly summarized what he had seen thus far and laid out his thoughts.

There was a facility they affectionately dubbed the Trove. The gang mainly made their fortune through the running of spice - and those operations were deliberately occurring far away from this building. The Trove, seemingly, was where their non-credit profits were held. Collateral in the form of vehicles, trinkets, and other shiny objects were just ripe for the taken. Jonah was confident he alone could make his way inside - but together? It would be a blood bath.

"Up for the Hunt?"

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

​

It was just like flipping a switch.

The Jester's amusement was suffocated by pure, and unbridled rage. His counterattack was an affront, an audacious breach of her most divine sanctum. Her face twisted in a snarl, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. How dare he? She was the one who played with thoughts. He was stepping out of his role in the game she had scripted. That he would dare to attempt to pry into her head was an unforgivable transgression. The creature spared not a single thought to the fact she had been perfectly happy with it when she was the assailant. Leven Jeyd was perfectly fine with being called a hypocrite.

Her hand twitched hungrily, it remained in place but the fact it yearned to speed towards one of her axes was evident as her mind raced with the prospect of ripping him apart were he stood. The air around her grew tense, thick with the promise of violence. She took a step closer, her presence in the Force growing darker, more menacing. The street seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the explosion of fury that was sure to come. How dare he?

But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the fury vanished. Leven let out a soft, almost amused chuckle as she composed herself, her expression smoothing into a something more serene. "Well played," she purred, her voice a silken caress, it was clear she was still lashing down the hatred that had been crafted so easily and perfectly at the deepest of her core. "...I suppose I can appreciate a worthy opponent. Don't do that again." In turn, she had retreated from the frontier of his own mind. A truce.

"Sticking around for a long time, are we? Quite the ambition," she remarked, her eyes glinting once again with amusement. Then she processed her previous words and a very small, flabbergasted frown set on her brow as her eyes widened. What did he mean whether they were above? Leven could not make sense of these small philosophies he was sharing. To her, they were unnatural. Perhaps that was why she was so intriged. The Jester was ready to follow up on his choice of words, but her attention was swiftly diverted.

When Jonah turned the datapad towards her, summarizing the information about the Trove, Leven's eyes sparkled with a newfound hunger. The promise of hidden knowledge already had her hooked in, if there was also valuable collateral well that was just lovely. The prospect of a bloodbath only sweetened the deal. She leaned in closer, examining the screen, her mind already racing with possibilities.

"Spice running and a trove of treasures? Quite the operation they've got here," she purred, her voice dripping with fascination. "I suppose it is only fair that such a hoard should be liberated from such unimaginative hands." She stressed the word, and offered the man a smile.

With a graceful pivot, Leven turned his back to him, her demeanor shifting from playful to focused in an instant. She swiftly undid the fastenings of her robe, it would only hinder her during the upcoming events. The clothes below were much more fitted to her body and covered her fully, except for her arms which stood out against the black two long, pale, muscly limbs ending in nails that looked a little bit too much like claws. However, the more striking feature was to be found on her left forearm. Beneath a layer of scars, both slashed and charred, lay the mark of her last handler. The Force-altered ink was easy to sense now that she was no longer cloaking her presence, but whatever effect the mark had had felt worn out, broken. Albeit clearly not enough for the shapeshifter to be able to fully wipe it away from her precious form.

"Shall we?"

Jonah​

 

[Jonah]

The mask cracked.

As the phalanx of Jonah's mind stood firm against her assault, rebuffing and countering with prods of his own, the woman's face contorted. Gone was the unassuming figure. Gone was the serenity and honey-dipped words. In their place was an expression of utter hatred. He could feel her fury with each jab against her psyche. And as he fought, a quiet confidence roared within his mind. He did not speak it. His expression did not betray it. But in his heart of hearts, he believed it with every fiber of his being.

Oh yeah, I can take her.

Jonah rolled his shoulders, gaze briefly moving from the woman's furious expression to the hand which twitched. She wanted to swing. Wanted to draw her weapon and to add new puddles of blood to the sordid ground. Her presence in the Force grew darker, roiling with anger and bloodlust. And Jonah? He stood there as he had thus far. Yet that quiet truth that rang in his mind slowly leaked into his posture. His demeanor. As her fingers twitched, his eyebrow raised, as if to say: I wish a motherfether would.

But, as quickly as the spark had ignited an inferno of anger within the woman, the fury disappeared. The woman's expression settled back into serenity. Her voice was dripping with honey once more. What's more, her own assault against his mind withdrew. Jonah pulled back the spears, but kept the metaphorical shields raised just in case. "I'm a firm believer in personal space." he said simply. "Don't get in mine, I won't get in yours."

And as if their exchanged hadn't occurred, she continued to flow with the conversation. She commented on his 'ambition' to stick around for a long time, a fact which caused Jonah to chuckle. "I know a little something about cultures that glorify a loud and bloody end. I'm not about that. I want to see everything I sow bear fruit. Don't you?"

From there, he recounted the details about the Trove and nodded at her answer. It was true, the folk who called the Hutt moon home didn't know what to do with anything that wasn't a narcotic or a currency. They were just doing them a solid by taking the treasures off their hands. The woman then turned and disrobed - and at that instant, Jonah's eyebrows hit the ceiling. Her form was humanoid, but there was just enough about her that he didn't think them cut from the same cloth. But what was more striking was the remains of a mark on her person. He could sense the ink, but knew all-too well what it was.

He had read about such marks during his upbringing. A tool used by his sire to control the unruly. Jonah was surprised to see that its usage still existed, way out here. Perhaps this was not some novel art that his sire concocted. Perhaps it was something used by others like them. Sith as the woman called him. But did Jonah even consider himself a part of that culture? He did not take for himself a name which challenged the stars. He did not seek to build an empire in his own image to pursue his interests.

No, but there was something he believed. Something that enabled him to take the first step. The Force Shall Free Me.

"Ladies first."

***​

After navigating the alleys and streets of the Hutt moon, the duo eventually came upon the Trove. And, by the looks of it, the Cartel had gone out of its way to ensure that the average person did not assume valuables were inside. The facility was literally the definition of stereotypical "abandoned warehouse." There was rust and stagnant water everywhere. The natural funk of the city was even more pronounced here. Broken vehicles littered the walk up to the two, massive doors. But, Jonah knew better. Before breaching the front door, he briefly knelt down and felt.

"Oooh yeah, this is the place." he affirmed. "I'm counting...at least fifteen in the front alone. More in the back." Jonah then rose to his feet. "We can go in guns blazing or take the quiet route. Any preference?"

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

An eyebrow arched, pensive, she listened to the man talk about how he wished to meet his end. What truly caught the Jester unaware was addressing a question at her. It would be impossible to recall the last time she was at a loss for words. A bloody end? A peaceful passing surrounded by her spoils? Leven had no idea how she envisioned her end, because Leven didn't think about death at all. At least, not her own. Her only response to the man was a low hum, the conversation clearly saved within the confines of her thought for later persual as they began their journey towards the Trove.

XxXx​

The decrepit warehouse, with its rust and stagnant water, was an all-too-familiar setting on Nar Shaddaa—a facade of decay hiding the true treasures within. She let out a soft, almost musical hum, a prelude to her reply. Her voice, a sultry whisper in the night, carried a tinge of mockery, as if amused by the situation's mundanity. The decision was hers to make, and she reveled in the control. With a theatrical sigh, she glanced at Jonah, mischief dancing in her gaze.

At her core, Leven was a creature of subterfuge and shadows, the spider ever waiting at her net. However, her blood was running a little bit hot in this particular night. "Well, after your display in the alleys, the quiet route seems a little bit... passé for the night, don't you think?" she mused, her voice dripping with playful hunger. "Subtelty is an art, but sometimes it can be fun to...paint with broader strokes." She tilted her head, her expression one of mock contemplation. "Yes, I believe tonight calls for something with a bit more... pizzazz."

Her form exuding an aura of danger and command Leven raised her hand, not to use brute Force, but rather to create a spectacle. With a deft motion, she pulled a small, sleek device from her belt—a thermal detonator, primed and ready. She turned it in her hand, her smile widening as she considered the chaos about to unfold.

"Nothing says 'hello' like a little firework show," she mused before tossing the detonator towards the door with a casual flick, her eyes never leaving Jonah's. "Cover your ears, darling. This might get loud."

The detonator landed with a soft thud, followed by a brief, ominous silence. Then, with a brilliant flash and a thunderous roar, the doors blew inward, the explosion sending a shockwave through the air. The sound echoed off the walls, the deafening cacophony that announced their arrival with undeniable authority.

As the smoke and dust settled, Leven strode through the wreckage, her figure framed by the flickering glow of the still-burning debris. She moved with an almost regal grace, her posture commanding and confident. Her eyes scanned the interior, quickly assessing the situation. The guards, momentarily stunned by the explosion, scrambled to react, their weapons drawn and panic etched on their faces.

Leven's voice cut through the chaos, smooth and mocking. "Well, well, what a warm welcome," she purred, the Jester was uttely amused. "But I'm afraid we didn't come all this way for pleasantries." She gestured towards the scattered guards with a lazy wave of her hand. "Shall we get started, then? I do love a good dance." With a fluid motion, she unleashed a wave of Force energy, sending several guards flying like leaves in the wind.

"Oops," she quipped, not bothering to hide her smirk while lazily pulling out the necrium axes. Her pride and joy. "I do hope that wasn't too rough. It's just so hard to gauge these things." She glanced over her shoulder at Jonah, her expression gleeful. "Join in at anytime, or I'll have all the fun."

With that, she launched herself into the fray, moving with a grace and speed that belied her unsettling appearance. Her claws flashed, slicing through armor and flesh with an almost artistic precision. Each movement was fluid, a deadly dance that left a trail of destruction in her wake. Those touched by the edges of her axes were the ones who screamed the loudest, their flesh turning black as the rot quickly spread. Such a delicious smell.

Leven's laughter rang out, a chilling melody that seemed to mock the futility of the guards' resistance so far.

As the battle raged, Leven's grin widened. This was what she lived for—the thrill of combat, the thrill of being the unstoppable force she knew she was — this was her stage, and she intended to shine.

 

[Jonah]

The woman's honeyed words returned to Jonah's ears. He had laid the decision of how to proceed at her feet - and she chose the direction that he assumed. Thus far, his opinion of the woman was one drenched in blood and draped in violence. Jonah found a smirk upon his lips as she uttered the word pizzazz. There was just the right amount of absurdity in her tone that he found it amusing. Then came the fireworks. Jonah half expected the woman to fire a telekinetic battering ram at the doors, but instead she produced a thermal detonator.

"Y'know what? I think that's the right amount of pizzazz." he said, matching her intent gaze. He could hear the detonator land and stick upon the door. Heard the thunderous boom which came after. He remembered to relax his jaw and knees when the shockwave hit, preventing any future aches from the blast. And then, she moved.

The guards were greeted by quite the explosive entrance, but that paled in comparison to what the woman did. Her words were seemingly directed at him, but also to their adversaries. Her audience. With a flick of her wrist, they were hurled across the room. Next, while bantering all the while, she pulled an axe into her grasp. An invitation was laid at his feet, to which the man offered a grin of his own, before she dove into battle. She was fluid. She was deadly. And all the while, her laughter filled the air amidst screams.

"How kind of you to share the fun."

Jonah unsheathed his own vibroblades and dove into the chaos. His focus was quickly placed upon the rear guards who managed to arm themselves with little more than panic and screaming. The Force empowered his lips, allowing him to leap far across the numerous crates and bodies that were strewn about. His blades bit into the flesh of one bearing a gatling weapon, causing the man to cry out. His weapon began to fire and Jonah twisted him about, causing the bolts to shred adjacent bodies. Oh, but he was far from finished.

By blade and by lightning did Jonah make his own bloody dance. He fried the comms that attempted to call for help. He rent limb from body and crushed bone underfoot. When all was said and done...when the final guard slumped to the floor, the warehouse was an absolute mess. There were more pieces of guards left behind than actual corpses. Jonah flicked the blood from his swords and returned them to their sheathes before striding over to the woman. "I can see why you Hunt," he began. "It felt good to just...cut loose. Now let's see about the spoils."

Before moving to examine the crates, he raised his dominant hand before the woman, as if expecting something. It was the universal request for a high-five, though Jonah didn't know if she would leave him hanging. Whether she did or not, he would then refer back to the datapad. He'd mutter for a moment, comparing the numbers on the screen to the numbers on the crates. "There you are." he breathed eventually, before dragging Crate 08 in front of them with a telekinetic pull.

He impatiently pried the door off with another invisible tug and strode inside the container. And soon, he returned with the fruits of his labor: a crimson pyramid, no larger than the flat of his palm. "Know what this is?" he said. The question wasn't one of ignorance, but to see if the woman was familiar with the ancient repositories of knowledge.

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven basked in the aftermath of their violent ballet Her laughter finally subsided as the last of the guards fell silent. She wiped a spot of blood from her cheek with an almost affectionate touch, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Jonah's praise and the notion of "cutting loose" amused her; it was such simple way of putting it. For her, this was not merely a release but an assertion of her inherent supremacy.

She watched with a bemused smile as Jonah sheathed his blades and approached. The gesture for a high-five was almost endearing, a childlike remnant of camaraderie. For a moment, Leven hesitated, a faint flicker of something unrecognizable crossing her face. She couldn't quite recall when the last time had been that she had placed her hands upon another being with a purpose different than harming or killing. Then, her smile slowly returning, she met his hand with a flourish, her now grin widening into something that was both sinister and, strangely, genuine. "It is rather invigorating, isn't it?" she purred. "The thrill of asserting one's place in the universe."

Her gaze followed him as he rifled through the crates, her curiosity piqued. The chaos of their entrance had been rewarding enough, but this—the pursuit of knowledge—was an equally enticing prize. She waited for Jonah to emerge from the container like a child waiting for their favorite show to begin.

She had not expected him to produce such an artifact.

When Jonah revealed the crimson pyramid, her eyes instantly narrowed with feverish hunger, a dangerous glint in them. Immediately, she closed the distance between them, her attention now fully absorbed by the object and forgetting completely about the pleasantries of personal space. However, despite having her face so close her breath could fog the artifact's surface, she made no move to snatch it from his hands.

Carefully, and completely entranced, the Jester's fingers moved forward to hover just above its surface, not quite touching it. Her voice dropped to a whisper, filled with both awe and possessiveness. "A holocron," she murmured, reverent and hungry. Her memories of Illyria's King's library run through her head. She had almost lost a hand for letting her cravings for one of these run a little too wild. She tilted her head, her gaze shifting to Jonah with a predatory look. "What does it hold? You should have told me before this was what you were after." This was no longer curiosity speaking, it was need.

There was a seriousness now to her composure that had not been there before. Power was something the Jester did not joke about. "We must secure it."

 

[Jonah]

The woman was easily the strangest that Jonah had encountered thus far. Due to this, it didn't come as much of a surprise when she hesitated when he raised his hand. But soon, that smile of hers claimed her face and she gave him a rather satisfying high-five. What's more, for once, that grin didn't have the same unnatural edge to it. "You have a real way with words, you know that?" he said, offering her a pleased nod.

From there, Jonah set about procuring the object that had painted Nar Shaddaa in a river of blood. The crimson pyramid, whose value would have gone unnoticed by the ignorant drug runners they slaughtered, was to be the man's payment for a job well done. Now, this and more would be his. However, he first showed it to the Huntress to see if she knew its value.

And know it she did.

The distance between them was crossed in the blink of an eye and her attention was placed firmly upon the holocron. She was so close that he could feel her breath upon his fingers. Jonah raised an eyebrow as her fingers moved, lingering just above its form. She didn't touch it. She didn't make a grab for it. Jonah could work with that. She then mumbled the answer - then turned her head to view him in a terrifying manner. It was almost like she was hungry and the holocron was the first meal she saw in days.

Jonah was a man of his word, unlike those who had promised him this treasure. He had an inkling of what was contained within, but no finite details. "Indeed." he began, "Now you see why those thugs had to die. They kept this prize from me. As for its contents? Sorcery. I do not know beyond that." When he had finished saying so, the woman's tone was grave. At least they were of the same mind when it came to the holocron's value. Within could be the power to plunge entire worlds into madness, after all.

"I agree." Jonah said. But he did not yet make any movements. "But before that, I'll peel back the curtain ever so slightly. This has been my journey thus far. My reason for setting foot on this godsforsaken planet. The power to make my own way." His gaze locked to hers, voice becoming as grave as her own for a moment. "I left behind everything I knew for this journey. And so far, I've had to butcher every step of the way. You have been the only exception."

His dominant hand rose - the holocron pressed against her fingers. "So I make this offer to you. I said that I would share this bounty with you - and I will. If you'd like, you can have this holocron and we can part ways. But my gut is telling me that you're not from this shithole. And your purpose, whatever it may be, does not lie in these gutters..."

"So, the alternative is, join me. I don't know where the journey will take us, but if Nar Shaddaa is any indication, hunting will be involved. Beyond that? Knowledge. Power. Growth. Whatever I discover will not be just mine, it'll be yours too."

Jonah then kept his hand in place, waiting to see if the woman would take the holocron and return to the night - or join him on this journey of a lifetime.

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven's eyes remained narrowed as she listened to Jonah, her expression unreadable, yet the fire in her gaze unmistakable. His words stirred something deep within her, a mixture of old wounds and the tremendously intoxicating allure of power. She had not expected to be confronted with such an offer, but even less so with the memories it dredged up. Memories of her time under a Master, when she was not the one in control, and also of the crushing... loneliness that followed when that bond was severed. This she would never admit, she had forced herself to believe otherwise for in the end, not even her own mind was safe from her manipulative nature.

For a long moment, she said nothing, her gaze locked onto the holocron. The temptation to take it and walk away was strong—after all, her nature was one of solitude, her path tailored by a series of betrayals and self-reliance. But there was also something undeniably intriguing about Jonah's proposition. The promise of knowledge, power, and, perhaps most alluringly, the thrill of the hunt on a grander scale. He had vision, and that vision had gained her interest.

Her fingers still hovered over the holocron, the weight of Jonah's offer palpable. Leven, as always, was an ocean contradictions, right now drawn to both the solitude of her supremacy and the tantalizing possibility of companionship, however tenuous. With a slow, deliberate movement, Leven closed her fingers around the holocron, feeling its cold surface under her touch and almost shivering at the sensation. Her gaze darkened, if that was possible, and everything indicated she was ready to turn around and leave.

But she stayed put.

"And you...You have a way of making offers that are hard to refuse," she said, her voice smooth and rich with approval. "I can see why you've made it this far."

Her eyes flickered up to meet Jonah's, a complex swirl of emotions churning in her gaze. With that, she released the holocron back into his hands, a silent agreement forged between them. The path ahead was uncertain but for now, Leven was willing to walk it - intrigued by the promise of what lay beyond.

"Very well," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I accept your offer. But know this: I do not follow; I walk beside. My loyalty is earned, not given..." and I have so very little of it. She finished the sentence within the secrecy of her own thoughts. In the past, that scarce loyalty had been earned forcibly - but the Jester took no issue with this. In her mind, it was entirely up to him to figure out a way to claim her loyalty and respect, just as it was up to her to test him every step of the way and find him deserving.

She stepped back, that sly smile back in full display, "This journey of yours... It promises to be interesting. And I do so enjoy interesting things." Leven's grin widened, the predatory edge returning. "What shall I call you, then?"

 

[Jonah]

The woman had a history - hell, everyone had a history. Yet Jonah thought back to the scars he witnessed only a few minutes' prior to this moment. He saw the ink which yet bled with the Force. He saw the marred flesh - signs of liberating one's self from the chains of control. He could understand her hesitancy in accepting his offer, for what if she were accepting yet another ball and chain? Fortunately, Jonah had no such ambitions. He was not interested in taming others to use their talents on his behalf. He alone would rise to the occasion or not at all.

Soon, there was movement. There was a choice. Her fingers coiled around the holocron and Jonah offered a slight nod. For a moment, he thought that would have been the end of their encounter; and if it was, he wanted her to know there was no hard feelings. Yet, despite the darkening of her gaze and the clutching of the prize, she moved no further. Rather, her honied voice graced his ears once more. Her words caused a satisfied smirk to appear on his lips.

"Here's hoping we make it further." came his answer. He then felt the weight of the holocron in full within his grasp once more, for she had relinquished it to his care. He then tucked the treasure within an inner pocket of his coat. His dominant hand patted it twice before his gaze met hers once more. "When we're in a more secure location, we can take a look inside." he remarked simply.

She then spoke again. Her voice was devoid of honey, but was softer. Yet he could tell what she demanded was absolute. "And I accept your terms." he began, "You are no slave. You are no servant. Through Victory your chains are broken - the Force has freed you. And I do not expect you to bend the knee and to trust me implicitly overnight. I will gladly earn your trust in full, as you will mine."

The woman stepped back, honied smile returned. "I agree, this journey will be anything but dull." Jonah then pondered her next question. Though he professed the Sith Code, he had not yet claimed dominion over an ideal. Nor did he adopt a name that was a challenge to the stars. Someday, not yet. For now..."My name is Jonah. And what shall I call you, Hunter?"

He chuckled at the moniker and awaited her response. From there, he'd spare another glance to the datapad. "There are some other valuables that may be of use to us. Do you have a safe space where we can hunker down and take stock?"

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Apparently he had a talent to say the right things to the shapeshifter. Yes, she was pleased with this arrangement.

"My name is Leven," she finally said, with an undertone of the utmost pride - she loved the sound of her own name. "And while 'Hunter' is apt, it doesn't capture the full scope of my... interests." Her smile revealed that her ego had indeed been flattered by the monicker, but the bloodlust he had seen today did not begin to scratch the surface of what she was, so she felt the need to hint at it.

She glanced around the chaotic scene they had left in their wake, considering Jonah's question. "I have a place," she said, her tone decisive. Usually, Leven would not have suffered another living soul to be anywhere near one of her lairs, but she had just made an agreement with the man which would inevitably lead to a certain closeness. She might as well rip the bandaid, as they said. "Let's get cracking." With that and a small clap, the Jester moved about swiftly to gather their spoils as Jonah indicated, she didn't care much to stop on what the nature of each box, container, or trinket that they decided to pick up was at the moment. They already had a very precious thing to make safe.

Once they were ready to leave, Leven would lead him through the dimly lit alleyways of Nar Shaddaa. The air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation, the city's underbelly a labyrinth of unruliness and crime. Yet, Leven navigated it with ease, with familiarity.

After a quite some time, she stopped at a seemingly unremarkable sewer grate, half-hidden beneath a pile of discarded crates and refuse. With a quick glance around, Leven knelt and deftly moved the debris aside. She then pressed a hidden panel on the wall, and the grate slid open with a low groan. "Welcome to my little sanctuary," there was a glint in her eyes. "It's not much, but it serves its purpose." For now the shapeshifter was calm, but the anticipation emanating from her very essence was palpable. Bringing him here was not precisely within her comfort zone, and she kept a very watchful eye on his every reaction. For someone who cared so little about any opinion other than her own, she certainly seemed quite fixated on his - at least when it came to this. "Do mind the cobwebs; they're there for the ambiance - and watch your step, it's a bit of a drop."

She descended into the darkness below, beckoning Jonah to follow. The air grew cooler as they ventured deeper into the underground passage, the sound of dripping water echoing in the distance. Dim lights flickered to life along the walls, illuminating the path with a ghostly glow. The passageway was narrow and winding, lined with ancient, corroded pipes and strange symbols etched into the stone. It felt as though they were stepping into a forgotten realm, a place untouched by time and civilization.

As they continued, the passage ended on a small, but sturdy blast door. Beyond it, it would open into a cavernous chamber, the ceiling lost in shadows. But here Leven stopped. Her head turned to him, once again, gauging. "I...collect things." The comment seemed to be coming a little bit out of left field, but as soon as the blast doors opened Jonah would understand.

As they emerged into the cavern, the scene that unfolded was like stepping into a surreal amalgalm of curiosities. The chamber was a chaotic, albeit mesmerizing, collection of artifacts and oddities. Every available surface was covered in a myriad of objects, from ancient relics and rare texts to bizarre contraptions and cheap, worthless trinkets. Shelves sagged under the weight of strange, twisted sculptures, dusty books bound in unusual materials, and glass jars filled with unknown substances. Exotic weapons, both ancient and modern, hung from the walls alongside tattered tapestries and posters damaged by humidity. Piles of scavenged parts and mechanical components lay in disarray, as if the lair were part workshop, part treasure trove. The air was, to say the least, thick. A strong scent of incense mixed with the tang of aged metal and dust.

Leven wandered through her hoard with an almost reverent air, her fingers grazing a peculiar orb that seemed to pulse with a faint inner light. Every piece there had a story. Although clearly, sometimes the story was just 'I found it in a pile of trash, and it looked nice.'

She gestured toward a makeshift seating area, where cushions and crates had been arranged around a low table cluttered with scrolls, datapads, and various trinkets. "Make yourself comfortable," she offered, taking her own seat and staking her eyes on the man.

 

[Jonah]

Jonah and Leven.

A partnership forged in the midst of a bloodbath within the streets of Nar Shaddaa. That was certainly a tale to write home about. The man chuckled as she clearly enjoyed the moniker he had applied to her. "Well Leven," he said, speaking her name with a smile, "what moniker would capture the scope of your interests?" It was simple conversation, meant to fill the air with chatter as they set about pillaging the place.

No doubt there would be some reprisal from the organization that owned the Trove, so securing their loot and getting out of sight quickly was a good idea. Leven shared that she had a spot and they set about picking the place clean. Jonah quickly ripped apart as many crates as he could. The datapad was instrumental in sifting through what was realistic for them to carry. After all, they weren't making it out with any graven images today.

But for their trouble, they left with pockets and makeshift satchels full of goodies. Everything from antiquated literature to precious metals to manuals from a Jedi Order. After a rather thorough search, Jonah followed Leven's lead through Nar Shaddaa. They were quiet and moved quickly through the streets and alleys, finally coming upon a sewer grate. Jonah kept watch as she opened the way. His eyebrows raised, but he didn't judge. They needed a place away from prying eyes - a literal hole in the ground would be ideal if it came to it.

"If it's safe and secure, it'd say it's plenty." came Jonah's response with a nod. He did offer a light, bemused huff at her mention of cobwebs being present for ambiance. From what little he knew of his newfound partner, Jonah wouldn't be surprised if she was being serious. Soon, they entered the sewer grate and their journey continued. He followed close, gaze darting about as they progressed. The passage he found himself in was certainly eerie. The dim lights, cobwebs, and symbols etched in the walls definitely helped paint that picture vividly.

Soon, they arrived at a blast door which gave way to a much larger chamber. Jonah was about to take a step forward when Leven stopped. She faced him and mentioned that she collected things? His lips parted to reply but she was already moving inside before he could say anything. He strode after her and...a low whistle fell from his lips. He had expected something akin to a studio apartment with too many books. Instead, he was greeted with this."This is quite the setup you've got here." He said.

Frankly, the incense kept the smell of Nar Shaddaa out of his nostrils for the first time in months. That alone earned the hideout a five star review in his book. Jonah didn't waste any time in settling down. It was the first time in what felt like hours he had actually sat down, so a satisfied sigh left him at once. From there, he began to shovel loot out of his pockets, onto the table before him. The satchels on either side of him were next, their contents were carefully deposited on the table as well - careful not to disturb what was already present.

"Alright, so taking stock..." he began. "Don't think we swiped enough to retire early, but we definitely won't be worrying about going hungry for a while. Should probably invest in a ship that'll be comfortable for the two of us, now that I'm thinking about it." Jonah then motioned with his chin in Leven's direction. "Aside from the holocron, any thoughts on what to do with our earnings today?"

The holocron was the notable exception because its fate had already been sealed. As soon as they charted a path regarding the mundane, they would dive into the arcane. At least, that's what Jonah intended.

Leven Jeyd​

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Her eyes gleamed, the gears of her minding working to string the perfect words for him together. After all, there were still so many secrets the man knew nothing of - as she was sure he kept his. However, she did provide him with an answer. "You see, Jonah, in truth - I am quite the fickle thing. A... lesson in fluidity." Her eyes held that weird promise that he would understand the meaning behind her theatrics - eventually.

XxX
​

She leaned back in her seat, watching as Jonah settled in and began unpacking their spoils. His reaction to her lair had been satisfying enough—he hadn't recoiled or shown any sign of disapproval. On the contrary, he seemed intrigued, even impressed by the sheer chaos of her collection. That was good. She liked to surround herself with things that interested her, and a negative reaction would have soured their burgeoning partnership. Instead, Jonah appeared to take it all in stride, and that pleased her more than she'd care to admit.

Her fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of her makeshift throne as she observed him, noting the way he methodically laid out their findings. The holocron, however, remained tucked safely away, its dark secrets waiting to be unraveled. Jonah's mention of buying a ship caught her attention, and she raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

"A ship, hmm?" she mused, tilting her head slightly. "Yes. Something fast, inconspicuous, and with a few hidden compartments for... special cargo." She chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with amusement. "After all, we wouldn't want to draw too much attention to ourselves, would we?"

Leven too made quick work of placing all the things she'd extracted from the Trove onto the table - or wherever there was available space for them. Her eyes went over their loot quite attentively, stopping on one item she had picked all by herself. She reached out and picked up the peculiar trinket, a small, intricately carved figurine of some long-forgotten deity. She turned it over in her hands, feeling the weight of the stone and the craftsmanship.

"I've always had a soft spot for the strange and unusual," she said, almost to herself. "You never know what might come in handy." Her voice was light, almost playful, but there was an underlying seriousness to her words. In her world, anything could be a weapon or a tool, depending on how one used it.

Leven set the figurine down and leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Jonah's. "As for our earnings," she continued, "we can keep some of the more valuable items for ourselves. A little extra firepower, maybe a few rare books for those long journeys... and the rest, we can sell or trade for supplies." Credits were useful, but the knowledge and connections that could be hiding within these items had the potential to be priceless. Leven had a hard enough time parting with things of much less consequence. Her eyes fell to the spot in his chest where she could feel the holocron was still safely tucked away, its presence still looming large in her mind. Oh, she could barely wait!

Suddenly, the glimmer of mischief took over every feature of the shapeshifter. She had already delivered the sensible answer. But what was a victory without a little celebration? She didn´t know yet how partial the man was to having fun - but she certainly wanted to find out. A silence hung in the air, her eyes, unblinking, locked onto his as a myriad of deranged, formless ideas danced behind them. ¨But why stop at practicalities? How about we just blow some it?"

"I have contacts that could get us into a place were they offer the most wonderful, mind-bending experiences..." Leven was a student of the mind, and she didn't dismiss any tool. Altered states, virtual realities, the whole spectrum. They could lose their selves for a while, see what insights the chaos brought. But her ideas didn't stop there. "Or we could pay a visit to the Hutt casino. High stakes, high rewards... We could take some of this haul, double it, triple it—hell, lose it all and have a hell of a time doing it!" The Jester stopped herself from musing further, that wide smile still on her lips as she focused once more on the man. Was he up to any of this?

 

[Jonah]

NAR SHADDAA

The Hunter's response to Jonah's ideas painted a picture of her priorities. Just like her hideaway, her first thought on the subject of a ship was inconspicuous. There were plenty within the Galaxy who wanted to strike fear into the hearts of men, simply by dipping out of hyperspace. Yet in her case? Blending in was the best approach.

Jonah wondered if that had anything to do with what she had displayed this evening. Leven's bloody prowess was impressive, yes, but she also was able to change how one saw her. In one moment, her words were honied and she appeared unassuming. In the next, she was a deadly combatant. "Inconspicuous, but I'd like it to be able to pack a punch." he said, giving her a knowing nod. The ship would be just like his newfound partner in every way. Capable of keeping a low profile but also capable of ripping its enemies apart.

Soon, the duo had all of their loot laid out on the table. There were some items which were stacked precariously, but for the most part everything was laid out as nicely as they could be. Jonah then watched as she inspected a figurine of sorts and listened as she mused about her soft spot for the unusual. That certainly explained the decor - for nothing within Leven's space screamed live, laugh, love.

Ah, but onto the subject of how to spend their loot. The woman certainly had some thoughts. First was keeping some of the more valuable items, specifically those that had some bite to them or specific purposes. The rest could be sold for credits. Jonah gave their score another lookover. There were about three disruptors between their stacks, which certainly was an upgrade in terms of firepower. And outside of the holocron, there were some books and a manuscript of some kind that was clearly very old. The rest were seemingly the standard jewels and ingots affair. "I could definitely see that. I'd like to get the ingots appraised. If they're worth a damn, maybe we can get some extra protection too. Gods know I'm not blaster-proof." He said.

Yet Leven wasn't finished just yet. There was a gleam to her eye after she finished giving the sensible ideas. Soon, she continued - after quite the pause - by suggesting that they...blow some of it? She then painted a picture of many options. From mind-bending experiences to betting it all in the casinos. Jonah thought for a moment...before a grin erupted across his face. "I want to stay in the finest accommodations this shithole has to offer. I want to eat the kind of food folk down here dream of. I'm all for hitting the casinos. Never had a mind-bending experience, but, why not, sounds fun!" He gave his own dramatic pause. "But priority one, for me, is a shower in the best tub this godsforsaken moon has to offer."

Jonah then gave a bemused huff before correcting himself. "Well. Actual priority one is, after we decide what we'll be doing with this haul...is cracking open that holocron and seeing what awaits us."

TAG: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven leaned back, absorbing Jonah's thoughts on their future endeavors. His appreciation for their spoils and her hideout was evident, and his practical concerns about their haul and future plans made her smirk. He was practical, that was clear, but the Jester had concluded that in fact, there was a spark in his eyes that hinted at a willingness to indulge. She liked that. It made him more interesting.

"Inconspicuous but with a punch, huh?" she echoed, tapping her fingers on the armrest. "Sounds like a ship I could get behind. We'll find something that fits both our needs and... aesthetic." She flashed him a quick grin. The mention of not being blaster-proof made her chuckle. "We'll get you some armor to go with that new attitude," she teased. The way he had handled himself earlier she would have thought he didn't spare that much thought to defense.

Leven's eyes gleamed with delight as Jonah responded to her more decadent suggestions. His desire for luxury in a place as unforgiving as Nar Shaddaa was certainly not easy to accomplish...for most people. "A shower, huh? Simple pleasures," she mused, tilting her head thoughtfully. "But I get it. Nar Shaddaa does have its gems... if you know where to look."

She leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "I know just the place. Cho Seeth Oona, the Sixth Moon. Now there's all the opulence this shithole can muster. A bath big enough to drown in, and a bar stocked with the finest spirits from across the galaxy. The beds? Silk sheets and pillows softer than a Hutt's belly." Wonderful memories speeded across her eyes as she described the place. "The food is out of this world—literally. They import the finest delicacies from every corner of the galaxy.. And for a little extra... well, I'll keep that a surprise." The Jester certainly knew how to paint a picture with words.

"And of course, we can bring a few playthings from our haul. You never know when a little extra firepower might come in handy."

She stood, stretching languidly like a cat. "But first, the holocron," she agreed, her expression shifting to one of anticipation.

 

[Jonah]

NAR SHADDAA

Jonah was quickly becoming quite pleased with this arrangement.

One could learn a lot about someone when discussing "what would you do if you won the lottery?" Most people would say their family and friends would never work again. But there was always a whack job who would spend it all investing in the military-industrial complex of an empire. Such hypotheticals were a great way of assessing one's priorities. Now, the spoils before the pair were the furthest thing from hypothetical, but the conversation did allow Jonah to understand (even a little) what mattered to Leven.

She was not above practical uses of their spoils. In fact, every suggestion Jonah made that made logical sense, she supported it. When he suggested the characteristics of their ship,, she was all for it - with points given for mentioning aesthetic. She did not scoff at his desire for protection either, though her words were spoken in a teasing manner. Jonah chuckled aloud with her as she quipped.

But once the practical side of things were covered, she painted a picture of what could be. The fun side. Jonah walked away from this chat thinking that, if they came upon loot in the future, the bills would be paid, the stomachs would be fed, and then the good times would roll. That wasn't a bad partner to have, not in the slightest. Jonah, of course, hung onto her every word when she spoke about Cho Seeth Oona and all the pleasures it contained.

And then he coughed slightly when she mentioned a little extra. She painted a great picture and his brain filled in the blanks. "Sign me the fuck up." he said simply.

But first, there was the matter of the holocron. Their moment was upon them. Jonah rolled his shoulders and stood up, hovering slightly above where the repository sat. He then raised his dominant hand and willed the Dark Side to make itself manifest. The holocron would know that it was held by those cut from similar cloths, not those seeking to destroy it. Thus, it quickly began to gleam bright red. Then...

It rose off the surface of the table. Its form opened, revealing a crimson light which got brighter and brighter and brigh-

A flash.

Cold.

Jonah shook his head. He was no longer standing in Leven's hideout. No. There was only darkness. He took a tentative step forward and heard his boots slosh, as if he were wading through ankle-deep water. "Leven! You here?" he called. He could not see, for it was pitch. So he attempted to feel. Yes. Yes. He could feel her beside him and so he moved his hands blindly through the black, attempting to locate her.

And whilst he moved, a distorted voice rang out.

Who DARES?​

TAG: Leven Jeyd