Private Chance Encounters

[Bane Kaohal]

Amara Zambrano
​

Bane Kaohal wandered through the bustling streets of the city on Maena, his presence alone enough to part the crowds like a blade through flesh. This volcanic planet, with its magma fields, arid deserts, grasslands, and scattered oceans, was a perfect representation of Bane himself—a world where only the strongest survived. The air was thick with the scent of sulfur, and the ground beneath his feet trembled with the rumblings of the planet's restless core. He thrived in places like this, where the environment mirrored his own inner turmoil.

Cities, he thought with disdain. They're nothing more than cesspools of weakness and corruption. These people, scurrying about like vermin, would be better off as a crater decorating this blasted landscape.

Bane's fiery orange hair, spiked and wild, added to his imposing appearance. His orange eyes, like molten embers, glowed with an intensity that could freeze the bravest hearts. As he sauntered through the streets, his steps were slow and methodical, each movement deliberate. He was contemplating, planning, his mind a forge of dark and calculated thoughts.

His destination was a small food stall, one of many lining the city's narrow streets. The vendor, a scrawny, nervous-looking man, caught sight of Bane approaching and visibly paled. Bane didn't need to say a word; his presence alone was enough to instill fear. He silently eyed the food, reaching out to grab an assortment. As he moved to pay, the vendor, trembling and wide-eyed, stammered out a few words.

"J-just take it," the vendor said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No need to pay. Please, take it."

Bane's lips curled into a cold, predatory smile. Smart, he thought. At least this one knows his place.

He turned to leave, but his path was suddenly blocked by a group of thugs, their leader a burly man with a scar running down his cheek. The leader sneered at Bane, clearly trying to size him up.

"You think you can just take whatever you want?" the leader spat, his voice laced with bravado. "This is our turf. You pay us, or you leave with nothing."

Bane's smile widened, turning more sinister. Fools, he thought. They have no idea who they're dealing with.

He didn't need to lift a finger. Instead, he let his presence expand, the weight of his dark power pressing down on all who stood before him. The air grew heavy, charged with a malevolent energy that seemed to suck the light from the surroundings. The thugs' bravado faltered, their eyes widening in fear as they felt the crushing pressure of Bane's will.

The leader's voice wavered as he tried to maintain his composure. "Wh-what are you?"

Bane took a step closer, his orange eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "I am strength incarnate. You are nothing but insects beneath my heel."

The leader fell to his knees, gasping for breath as the weight of Bane's presence bore down on him. The other thugs quickly followed suit, their bravado shattered by the overwhelming force of Bane's power.

"Leave," Bane commanded, his voice cold and indifferent. "I won't do second chances...."

The thugs scrambled to their feet, stumbling over each other in their haste to flee. They didn't need to be told twice. They scattered like frightened animals, leaving their leader behind, groveling at Bane's feet.

Bane took a moment to collect himself, the oppressive weight of his presence easing as he withdrew his power. He glanced down at the cowering leader, a look of utter disdain on his face.

These wretches, he thought, watching the thugs flee. They know nothing of true strength. One day, they will all learn.

With his food in hand, Bane continued on his way, his mind already turning to the next challenge, the next test of his strength. The city, with all its weakness and corruption, was nothing more than a temporary obstacle—a place to procure what he needed before moving on to greater trials.

 

[Amara Zambrano]

Malamente​

Whether it was the neon lights that bathed nearly every nook and cranny with vibrant colors, or the way that every level of New City was so impressively different from the next, Maena was home for Amara Zambrano. It was a planet without any true rule of law, no acting government or authority that could ever hope to do much more than pretend at keeping its people in line, and it was both terrifying and beautiful. For a long time her family had an estate on the planet, one which her parents had evidently moved on from to live aboard the world-ship the Malsheem, but she was in a more unruly part of the city rather than tucked away in the compound.

Level 160 was far enough away from the heart of the city that there clearly some kind of criminal activity on the streets but close enough that riots weren't a common enough occurrence to keep someone like Amara from walking around without even a minor concern for her own safety. Bane Kaohal walking away from some stall without pay wasn't as unusual as the thugs he'd scared into submission might've made it seem, she figured they must've pushed into the area rather recently and assumed they'd be able to throw their weight around with whatever muscle they had at their disposal - seeing them buckle under pressure indicated to her that they'd probably be gone and replaced by someone else in a week or two, a month tops if they didn't give up hopes for territory at the sight of a competent darksider.

"Bit over-the-top, don't you think?"

She'd watched the whole thing go down from a corner store a dozen or so meters away from behind a rack of clothing, stepping out from the shop only as Bane walked by. "There's not really any major gangs in this part of the city, just a few thugs who think they can run the streets this far out from Fifty, you could've scared them away just pushing them out of the way with the force." Amara said, decidedly unbothered by the admittedly heavy presence the man had weighed the street down with a few moments ago. "I'm guessing you're new in town?"

She was openly following him at this point, though she walked far enough behind him that there was a rather respectable distance between the two of them - she didn't know him, after all, and though the city was home to her she wasn't the kind of person who'd go looking for a fight by getting in someone's personal space, either.

"Not to be rude, but you kind of remind me of my dad."

She figured he'd have no idea what she meant, but in her head it was definitely the dark superiority vibes.

 

[Bane Kaohal]

Amara Zambrano
​

Bane paused, his cold gaze locking onto the source of the voice. The neon lights of Maena's chaotic underbelly painted his face with vivid, eerie hues, casting sharp shadows that accentuated his hardened features. His presence, already imposing, seemed to swell with the ambient energy of the city—a blend of danger and raw power.

"Over-the-top?" he rumbled, each word deliberate and heavy. "Necessary."

His eyes, molten amber set against the stark shadows, flicked over the scene, assessing it with a practiced eye. Bane's voice, though sparse, carried an authority that demanded attention. Internally, he scoffed at the notion of street thugs—amusing, really. Groups taking up arms to overpower the few due to their lack of true power. Pathetic.

A flicker of curiosity crossed Bane's face—barely perceptible, yet undeniable—at the mention of a father. "Your father? I'll take it as a compliment." Her words stirred something deep within him, a shadowy memory of his own father—an image of strength and disappointment, a complicated legacy that still haunted him. Bane clenched his jaw, indifference written all over his face as he pushed the thought aside, unwilling to let it surface.

He turned to walk away with his slow, sauntering gait, each step deliberate and unhurried, as if unhindered by anything around him. The heavy fabric of his cloak whispered against the grimy street. The neon signs reflected off his back, creating a halo of sinister light. Each step he took resonated with an unspoken threat. His silence spoke volumes, a testament to his confidence and the fear he commanded.

"Just passing through," Bane added, his voice almost a growl, leaving his purpose open-ended, a wanderer not chained to any place or people.

As he walked, Bane became acutely aware of the figure trailing behind him. She kept a respectful distance, her body language cautious yet persistent. It piqued his curiosity—this girl lacked the instincts of a survivor, or perhaps the intelligence to recognize the danger she courted. Her mind and body seemed out of sync, not fully aware of the peril she shadowed.

Abruptly, Bane stopped in the middle of the street, the air around him thick with tension. He looked over his shoulder, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the shadows.

"Why are you following me?" he asked, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you know better?"

 

[Amara Zambrano]

She tilted her head to the side a bit - necessary? She didn't usually question people who seemed inclined to use force like she'd watched him do to those guys just a few minutes ago, but she wondered if the look on her face could help but do anything else. It wasn't that he was threatening that she kept such a modest space between the two of them, she'd lived and worked with people that sold out friends to rival gangs or assassinated people they'd known their entire lives just to make a few credits or take what they felt should have been theirs. It was just more practical to avoid fights whenever possible, she wasn't exactly prideful so the idea of being seen as someone somehow lesser than others wasn't really a concern of hers nor did it bother her fairly nonexistent ego.

"Yeah, bit less melancholic though." She said.

Not that it was really her father's fault, he was just mourning the loss of a daughter that had evidently meant the world to him. His reaction was, if anything, a bit more promising of continued conversation than small-talk over his behavior had been. She wondered if that meant he was curious, or maybe she'd said something that reminded him of something else entirely, but she couldn't really tell at a glance. "Staying way out here?" She asked, rather genuinely curious - this wasn't typically where tourists and travelers or the like tended to stay if they could help it, she doubted many of the gangs that ran the streets in levels of the city further out even lived out here if they could afford it. "Bit far from the fif-" Amara had been about to ramble something on about how far away they were from a better part of the city to stay in, maybe suggest somewhere nicer, when he'd suddenly turned around and cut her off with a pretty intense stare.

She blinked, he'd asked her a pretty fair question.

"My dad is Darth Prazutis, my cousin Darth Carnifex, and my parents made a strand-cast of me who was called Darth Mori - I don't want to suggest you aren't as.. whatever.. as any of them, but you're not frightening me nearly as much as you think you are." She defended. He was certainly more dangerous than anyone she'd had run-ins with during her time with the Black Sun, or any of the various people she'd met and lived with during her time couch-surfing and bed-hopping throughout the mid-rim, but he wasn't remotely as intimidating as quite a few of her family members could be. "It'd help if you didn't make it seem like you're trying, you have the whole attitude and look down but putting an effort into scaring people usually means you don't think you're all that intimidating." She said with a slight shrug, deciding that a couple steps closer was about as close as she'd be willing to get now that Bane Kaohal wasn't going anywhere.

You typically avoided walking up to an akk-dog when they were backed into a corner and for some reason she felt the rule of thumb applied doubly so here.

"But I guess I don't know any better, actually. Was in a bit of a coma for the first, like, twenty years of my life so I never had the chance to learn."

 

[Bane Kaohal]

Amara Zambrano
​

Why did she care or show any interest where he stayed? Bane's internal gears turned at her genuine curiosity. Was it really all that odd? It wasn't unusual for Bane to stay in far out-of-the-way places, either in complete solitude or lacking in creature comforts. He preferred it this way. Rarely did he indulge the company of another person. If he did, it was because they had been rigorously vetted and had proven themselves a worthy adversary, creating a loose alliance, a fickle companionship.

Her mention of powerful figures—Darth Prazutis, Darth Carnifex, and Darth Mori—elicited no recognition from Bane. He kept tabs on many, but even he couldn't know everyone. Her lineage suggested strength, but strength alone didn't impress him. "Not familiar with a single one."

As she continued to speak, Bane listened, his cold, molten gaze unwavering. The slight breeze ruffled his hair, adding to his imposing aura. Necessary? She questioned his actions—an unusual response in a place where power spoke louder than words. Furthermore, her note that he had been 'trying' to be intimidating, rather 'failing' to do so, acting as if he was trying too hard. A dry scoff escaped his lips.

"You speak of fear like it's a tool," he growled, his voice low and measured. "I'm not trying to be anything. I simply am who I am. Furthermore, it's not about scaring people... For the weaker-minded, it's a simple mercy," he continued, his tone almost dismissive. "If they can't take the hint, it's better they no longer exist.... but that even in itself would require me caring enough to do more, and frankly, the time isn't worth giving."

He observed her cautious steps closer, noting the distance she still maintained. Smart, he thought. Keeping your guard up, even in conversation. His respect for her rose a fraction -- her survival instincts, apparently were indeed honed sharp. She continued to mention her past—a coma for twenty years. His eyebrow raised just slightly. Bane's mind whirled with thoughts of dormant potential and repressed power. He understood the implications. She was an unknown variable, a wild card.

Why though, why was she telling him all this? Bane wasn't what one considered... approachable, and this line of conversation was more than he typically carried on.

Having his fill, Bane slow, sauntering gait resumed as he turned back towards the darkened streets. However -- the ever gnawing question at the back of his head gave him pause. Was she capable of furthering her own vessel -- was she more than met the eye? He stopped, his voice back to her, his voice breaking forth into the air, his tone flat but resolute as he spoke. "Shame—all that time wasted. But if you could learn, what would you? If you could obtain power, how hard would you seek? If ambition was buried, how deep down would you dig?"

 

[Amara Zambrano]

Good Girl Era​

Not knowing her sister was one thing - she had mostly been known by her enemies and he was certainly no Jedi - but not recognizing at least her cousin's name was both surprising and.. well, refreshing if she was being honest. In the past she'd kept her family a secret, up until she started looking closer and closer to her shapeshifting late sister's final appearances, but usually anyone who even found out her last name was Zambrano tended to treat her markedly different than before. "Oh," was all she could really say to that, not exactly disappointed by that fact but perhaps slightly so that her reasoning didn't quite provide him an example for why she wasn't quite so afraid of him as he thought she ought to be.

She nodded her head at the perspective he shared on himself, on the nature of what fear was to him, and the little hints of philosophy - or maybe psychology - that were sprinkled in towards the end, but rather than satiate whatever curiosity she had about his behavior it had instead led her to more questions. Not any that she immediately voiced, it was pretty clear that he wasn't especially receptive to having his ear talked off if his own questions about her behavior towards him were anything to go by, but rather questions which kept her attention on him rather than simply going on their separate ways here and now. The little tidbit about being largely unconscious for the majority of her life had felt almost like too much information to give to a passing stranger, even to her, but it was the exact sort of personal information that both couldn't be used against her and usually lured people into sharing just a little bit more.

Or, in his case, growing a tiny bit more curious that he had appeared to be a few moments ago.

"I don't think I've ever really wanted power for the sake of it, I'm more of a go with the flow kind of girl, you know?" That wasn't really an answer to his question, of course, but then what he'd asked hadn't really been something she'd thought about all that much recently either. "But, I guess, really, what I want is everything, so naturally I'd be inclined to do anything to get that, wouldn't you?"

She flashed Bane Kaohal a bit of a mischievous grin, indicating a bit of an immature streak - one which might explain the casual interest in someone so clearly so unapproachable while all conventional thought would've suggested it was anything but a good idea to do so.

"Maena, the stars, people - love - it's a ridiculous want, isn't it? But I want all of it, everything and everyone."

 

[Bane Kaohal]

Amara Zambrano
​

Go with the flow? No — Bane was the flow, rather, the cruel and unyielding undercurrent that lie just beneath the surface threatening to pull one out and let their life become forfeit.

What I want is everything… and I’d be inclined to do anything to get that.

Voices echoed within the dark recesses of his mind all the while he stood back facing her. His jawline tightened, flexing as his hand tightened, recalling the day he chose to pursue it all — the day he sold all semblance of his humanity, the equivalent exchange that had been offered in pursuit to get all that he could… but it had been a hollow high, and it left him wanting more, always seeking the next high, the next challenge. In the end however, it had been worth it — he’d broken his own limitations, deepened his vessel and it had only just been the tip of the iceberg.

Having been quiet for sometime, his voice broke forth, low yet behind it a warning — one he rarely gave.

“To get requires an exchange — one you must be willing to pay a toll for, and once’s it’s received, it can never be reversed.”

As she continued to speak, he could hear almost a youthful naivety to the way she spoke, yet when she spoke regarding love he realized one of life’s “greatest joys” to some, was one he’d never embraced. In the farthest reaches in his mind, he recalled the warmth his mother gave him — the way his heart would slip when his youngest sister would ask him or offer a hug just because she had missed him… this had been the extent to what love was. Romantically, he assumed the young woman was talking about, he’d never once been afforded the offer. He knew such was the path he’d chosen to take, yet as he stood in the silence once more, gifting the young woman with a honor few received… his ear, and even what little wisdom he was willing to impart.

Turning his head slightly towards the side, his gaze locked with hers once again, the hard gaze from before replaced with one of indifference, mourning — the very conversation between the two stirring up a tempest of conflict within.

“My name is Bane, where you go is your freedom.”

A hidden remark, implying he did not mind her presence or line of questioning. Bane was, unsettling to most, and rare did he have the opportunity to talk longer than most conflicts or encounters lasted — and just like any mortal, conversation was something he tolerated every once in a while.

Turning his head back now, he picked back up in his natural stride, the slow steady gait that never seemed rushed nor bothered by anything external — continuing towards the direction he had been initially headed, towards the far outskirts of the town where he knew he could camp unhindered and alone for the evening.

 

[Amara Zambrano]

'Give in order to take, huh?'

In the grand scheme of things that was a thought that ought to have been common sense, every year there was another titanic rise preceding a catastrophic fall that should've served as more than just a cautionary tale to the next ambitious person waiting for their moment to shine. But, even in spite of all of that, here they were. Not just the two of them even, in this casual chat, but every last living soul in the galaxy that saw the ruined lives caused by the pursuit of power, most heavily felt by the people who could touch the force in any meaningful way, but leaped after it anyway: sith, witch, dark jedi, and all of the rest. But still the question immediately came to the front of her mind in the form of unearned doubt.

She eyed him a little bit closer, leaned a bit forwards at the ankles in a way that suggested she was curious if Bane Kaohal was speaking from personal experience or not.

Then she smiled, little wrinkles forming at the outside corners of her eyes because the sides of her mouth lifted just ever-so-slightly up. It was easy for her to understand why that kind of warning was ignored, after all the people who burned the brightest in these situations weren't typically the happiest bunch with the most to lose from their own perspectives. It was actually quite hard not dwelling on things and wondering what might have been, if things had happened differently in an almost distant past, and even the things she'd said she wanted weren't quite as romanticized in her head as the way she had conveyed them to him. "Amara." She said after he gave her his name, though she realized rather quickly that he seemed to be walking away again - this time, though, she wasn't certain if it was from her or just to somewhere else in general.

"See you around?" She asked, purposefully not as earnestly as she might've come across earlier in their conversation. "Just look out for the Zambrano name if you try to find me later."

 

[Bane Kaohal]

Amara Zambrano


​

Bane's piercing orange eyes held Amara's gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. He gave a slight nod, acknowledging her words and her name. "Amara.... I'll keep that in mind," he said, his voice carrying a weight that seemed to echo in the shadows of the alleyway.

With that, he turned and began to walk away, his steps purposeful and measured. The narrow, winding streets of Maena's lower city surrounded him, the harsh sunlight casting stark shadows against the weathered buildings and machinery. The city was alive with activity, a constant hum of voices and the clanging of metal, but Bane's presence seemed to carve a path through the chaos.

As he walked, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The encounter with Amara had been an unexpected distraction, but he couldn't afford to be sidetracked. His life as a nomad, always searching for power and purpose, demanded focus and precision.

However, his thoughts were abruptly interrupted as he sensed a familiar presence—the thugs he had scared off earlier had returned, and they were not alone. A group of them, armed and brimming with false confidence, blocked his path at the mouth of the alley. Their leader, a burly figure with a scar running down his face, stepped forward, a sneer twisting his lips.

"You think you can just scare us off?" the leader growled, brandishing a blaster. "You're not so tough now, are you?"

Bane's expression remained impassive, his orange eyes cold and calculating. He assessed the situation with a predator's instincts, noting the positions of each thug, the weapons they carried, and the tight confines of the alleyway. They thought they could take him on, but they were gravely mistaken.

Without a word, Bane reached for the hilt of his blade, the weapon a dark reflection of his own soul. The thugs tensed, but before they could react, he moved with the speed and precision of a trained warrior. His blade flashed in the stark daylight, cutting through the air with lethal grace.

The leader's sneer vanished, replaced by a look of shock and pain as Bane's blade found its mark. The other thugs hesitated, their bravado faltering in the face of such ruthless efficiency. Bane showed no mercy, his movements swift and deadly, each strike a testament to his skill and power.

The leader fell to the ground, clutching his wound, his eyes wide with fear. Bane's expression was merciless, his orange eyes burning with cold fury. He stepped over the fallen thug, his blade glinting ominously in the light.

"I gave you a chance to walk away," Bane said, his voice low and menacing. "Those who fail to heed will simply bow on bloody knees."

He moved through the remaining thugs with brutal efficiency, his strikes precise and lethal. The alley was soon filled with the sounds of pain and desperation, but Bane remained unfazed, his focus unyielding.

The confrontation was over almost as quickly as it had begun. The thugs lay scattered on the ground, defeated and broken. Bane sheathed his blade, his expression unchanged, as if the battle had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

As he walked through the bustling lower city, the memory of Amara's smile lingered in his mind. It reminded him of the soft smile his sister used to give him, the warmth and love he felt when she looked at him. For a brief moment, a glint of humanity surfaced within him, a fleeting sense of what he had lost. But he quickly stuffed those feelings down, burying them beneath layers of hardened resolve.

He eventually found a secluded outcropping in the city, a quiet spot away from the chaos. Bane sat down, taking off his katana and leaning it upwards in front of him. Resting his head against the blade, he closed his eyes, trying to quiet the demons within his own mind. The turmoil and darkness that plagued him were relentless, but for a moment, he sought solace in the stillness, a fleeting respite from the storm that raged within.