Private D(en)on't Tread on Me

[Sars Sarad]

Denon
Iris Arani

The Ecumenopolis sprawl of Denon made the entire surface of the planet a duracrete jungle where spires stretched towards atmospheric layer and the lowest levels, as well as their inhabitants scraped for the opportunity to see natural light. Denon was second only to Coruscant in its scale, a world completely absorbed by industry and urban sprawl. More than one Jedi called Denon home, many of its people were oppressed by the Corporations that ruled day to day life and the adherents of the Lightside were drawn to their plight like moths to a flame.

----

The Shuttle had set down on a landing pad high above the lower levels. He'd disembarked shortly thereafter to stand on its edge, looking out across the landscape that stretched beyond what he could see. Gazing out Sarad would have given the impression that he was looking with more than his eyes to anyone watching him, his senses stretching beyond what was physically possible. He pulled at strands of the force, tugging on its threads and waving his fingers through them like he was creating ripples over a pool of water so that he could study the small disturbances he created as they pressed outwards.

Among the presences he felt, the distinct identities in the force there was one in particular. Searching his memory he came to the Imperial Blacksite on Dorin, he'd felt the same presence there intermingled with the others who had come to rescue Nida Perl . He'd never met the individual it belonged to but he knew them nonetheless, he recognized their unique signature as it stood apart from the rest even on a world like Denon.

He stood a short while longer, his lips pressed together though otherwise largely expressionless before he turned and began his descent. A Turbolift from this spire would take him down towards the lower levels where artificial lights hummed and flickered.

----

The Trek was not difficult, Sarad followed the thread that belonged to this individual. It lead him to an apartment complex, thousands of units and a near impossible level of randomness meant that were it not for his specific connection to the force he might have never found it. Tipping his head back as he looked up he seemed to pinpoint exactly where he needed to go then he made forwards momentum again.

The Corridors of the complex were an off color durasteel, something that hadn't seen attention other than graffiti for a lengthy amount of time. Inhabitants tended to give Sarad a wide berth, in the Tako'raas Duster and brooking no distractions he cut an imposing figure, not the largest man but one who moved with purpose and an inherently deadly way about him.

When he came to a door, sealed and locked he felt a thrum on the otherside which seemed to indicate that this was the place. Raising his left hand, palm open and extended outwards Sarad channeled the force through himself. Telekinetically flexing the metaphysical he impressed his will on the entrance to the apartment, buckling the durasteel first and causing it to crumple under the stress before blowing backwards into the area beyond in a less than grandiose but effective manner that hammered the metal away.

He stepped through the breach he created afterwards, his eyes searching for what his mind felt...

"My name is Sars Sarad."

...it was an introduction he made many times prior to this moment without thought, people should know who they were facing and there was a sort of disciplined incantation behind such an introduction. With his right hand he'd brush his duster back behind his hip revealing the lightsaber that was clipped to a belt there.

 

[Iris Arani]

Denon's apartment wasn't as comforting as her own on Coruscant, mostly because she never bothered to personalize it. Denon was, after all, a place she wanted to help people on. Not a place she was going to live on. Still, she knew the place she was sleeping in. And had her own little fail safes for intruders. Gangs were notoriously brutal here, and the former Shadow had far too much training to be caught unprepared even where she slept.

As the door crumbled down and he stepped through, Iris thrusted out her saber without a lick of hesitation. The pink blade burned through the air as her multi colored eyes narrowed in focus. It didn't matter who was behind the door, not with them outright breaking in.

Sars Sarad

 

[Sars Sarad]

As he stepped through the breach into the apartment he'd created Sarad would catch the flash as her lightsaber, the pink of the blade as it sizzled in the air. Instinctively his own would fly into the waiting palm of his right hand and activate causing a searing phosphorescent blade to activate that he'd flourish ahead of him to deflect any attack. Palpable waves of heat radiated from his lightsabers blade, the barab ingot he used causing it to pulse with the promise of a fiery touch and distort the air immediately around it with heatwaves.

He seemed content, a thin smile touching the corner of his mouth. She hadn't exchanged words with him, attempted to dissuade him or offered a diplomatic solution like so many others. Actually it was quite refreshing to have someone just ignite their own lightsaber and commit themselves.

"Good."

...he offered her some form of acknowledgement then he came at her. The Lightsaber fanning ahead of him in a series of probing attacks; parries, thrusts, slashes all meant to guage her defenses. He was careful not to overcommit, especially this early. His footwork paramount, occasionally he would attempt to offset himself to her to see if he could work around her defense with less direct strikes.

As he came at her Sarad would have remarked, sparing her any confusion as to why he was here...

"I know you from Dorin, a rescue mission. You and your allies fought well that day."

...though that had never seen one another, he had been busy with Ichika Masudo and her Master, Aaran Tafo . Nonetheless he recognized her, the signature she left behind the Force. All of them, every one left a signature in the force that differed if only just a little bit.

Sarad shifted, maneuvering his feet slowly so that he could react quickly and began to draw the force into himself.

Iris Arani

 

[Iris Arani]

He was stronger than her. But even if this wasn't her home, she still knew it's layout. Tactical movements, shifting and utilizing her own footwork and speed to make up for the lack of strength she had to keep him from at least overwhelming her. But given how he reacted to the sudden attack, she was going to be having problems. Another tactical retreat had her in what amounted to the living room, with paint supplies mostly lining the walls in leu of the typical living room set up.

"Imperial."

She remembered Dorin. She remembered the Imperial Knight that had pointed her the way to Nida. She didn't remember this man, though. The colors she saw the Force in were far too chaotic for her to remember someone she didn't try to remember. The Force pulled and weaved, colors shifting as he seemed to be doing something. So she reacted. Cans of spray paint flew forward, pulled by her hand.

Iris didn't say anything more, though. She could see it in the colors. His intent, desires. He wasn't here for some kind of revenge or mission. He just wanted to fight. Which meant she really needed to get out.

Sars Sarad

 

[Sars Sarad]

She had the advantage when it came to the terrain. Whereas Sarad was unfamiliar with the apartment Iris Arani lived here, spent time here and would have an intimate knowledge of the layout. At this point Sarad could only advance on her whenever she made a tactical withdrawal, weaving his lightsaber in such a manner as to continue his probing assault and keep her on the 'backfoot' as it were while he studied her reactions.

As their foray moved into the living room Sarad was largely indifferent to his surroundings, he attacked but these were all probes as explained. Despite his maneuvering his main focus had shifted to drawing the force into himself, collecting it. When he heard her voice he responded simply…

"No."

…he had never been an Imperial, their interests may have aligned occasionally but no less than his interests had aligned with the Brotherhood of the Maw at one point and even with the Jedi themselves when he sights on an opponent that was in opposition to them…

"Your bladework is not without merit. Who taught you?"

…the inquiry occurred just as she had used the force to hurl cans of spray paint at him. In response Sarad had disengaged, his left-hand whipping across while he disengaged from the probing attack. He'd actually snatch one of the spray cans out of the air quite deftly while his left arm, drawn by the momentum of his hand shielded him from the impromptu attack somewhat. Cans of Spray Paint would collide with his forearm, which he used to shield his face primarily while others struck his torso, his legs. It was largely a nuisance but the distraction would give his opponents a small amount of breathing room.

It was then, at the point between when the Spray Cans had begun to strike but before all of them had landed home that Sarad released a telekinetic burst. The Force drawn inwards, towards his body was thrust outwards and released from the point where he'd drawn it close, galvanized it and causing it to blast outwards as a shockwave. In response small debris, like the Spray Cans would be thrown back, furniture would be uprooted and hurled from its spot of rest.

Assumedly Iris might be likewise affected.

As the shockwave subsided Sarad, lowering his arm would extended it towards Iris hoping to have put some distance between the two of them due to the telekinetic blast…

"I've been told painting is self-discovery. That every good artist paints what they are."

…he could only assume Iris was a painter or delved into some for of artwork, the sheer number of Spray Cans would lend credence to this assumption. While speaking and with his arm raised Sarad, gripping the Spray Can would impress upon it so that he could engage its release mechanism and send a concentrated mist towards Iris face. He'd heard many a spray cans contents were quite corrosive, not deadly but they could cause blindness or difficulty breathing. His lightsaber thrummed in the rear, drawn backwards in anticipation.

"Are you a good artist, Jedi?"

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris wasn't idle. She didn't speak anything more, just kept her eyes focused on him. He didn't seem to care about the cans of paint. No one ever did, but that was her advantage. Several passed by her towards him, which seemed to be the intended goal for her. All it took was a nick from her blade and a hard impact for them to rupture and explode in a haze of paint. What she didn't expect was the blast.

She gritted her teeth as she hit the wall behind her. It delayed her a moment, but the sudden explosion of paint to cover the room in a mist was more than enough for her to dart through the nearby window and down to the street below.

Sars Sarad

 

[Sars Sarad]

The Explosion of mist from the ruptured Paint Can was unexpected. Instinctively Sarad's arm came up again so that he could shield himself though the mist that filled the room was more a distraction that served its purpose in allowing Iris Arani to escape through the nearby window. As the mist cleared Sarad, covering his mouth as he drew his hand back would have coughed into his palm before moving forward.

Shortly after he came closer to the window that Iris had escaped through moments prior he leapt through it, his limbs augmented by the force so that he could carry himself through the air with an unnatural ease.

Using the force to sense her Sarad would have come down on the street level not far from Iris. Landing in a crouch he would have rose, the lightsaber in his right-hand flickering and thrumming with energy as he brought it around to gesture towards her….

"Are you in a rush?"

…he seemed oblivious to the streets of Denon, the people that moved amongst the alleyways and the side streets and the surveillance that was prominent on any ecumenopolis…

"You need to fight, Jedi."

…just as he said that his left hand would raise, palm wide as though it were calling on the force and manipulating the unseen tethers that connected them all Sarad would attempt to pull her forwards with an unseen jerk meant to unbalance her. Flourishing his lightsaber at the same time he would move closer, engaging with his weapon to parry or lock with hers so that he could lift his boot and level a heavy kick towards her stomach…