Grudges

[Revenchent]

Keren was louder than usual today.

The city was alive with the sound of festivities and the lights of lanterns. Revelers filled the streets in chaotic masses, some enjoying the peace of the evening, while others indulged in more base activities. The smell of spiced meat and various different colognes filled the air, making Tarith scrunch his nose up in displeasure.

He drew his cowl up a little farther over his face as he strolled through the crowds. He did not strike a particularly striking figure; his visage was shrouded well enough by the cowl, and he wasn't very large. He stood just an inch or so taller than the average man, and found little issue in carving a path through the masses with his broad shoulders. His form was protected by a thin leather great coat that fell well past his knees, and only the pale skin of of his nose and chin could be identified clearly.

His destination lay ahead. It was a great fountain just a few feet deep, but many across. Couples gathered, and singles looking for a partner congregated around the lip of the fountain. Tarith could not help but crack a thin smile as he passed seamlessly into the crowd, his head low and his back hunched.

Pale eyes darted from one end of the fountain to the other in search of the man he had come here for. Prior investigation had indicated the bureaucrat would be attending, but Tarith had not seen any trace of him throughout the festival. After another look, the shrouded man's smile faded.

"If I were meeting a woman here, where would I do it?" He mumbled to himself, brow furrowing. "Here," he answered his own question. A Rodian couple looked his way, clearly worried about the lone hooded man mumbling to himself in the corner. Tarith paid them no mind, and began another walk down the promenade.

Tarith would find him, and see to it that his machinations did not succeed. Not here, not again.

 

[Astrid]

To attend festivals was often seen as a moment of joy or delight, to others not so much. Astrid was one of the latter. She hated congregations and hated mingling with the common populous. Not out of any particular reason or another, but largely in part due to a multitude of reasons. There were people there. People of various origins and backgrounds. More eyes to judge and find concern with. Not only did a festival require you to mingle with them, it often forced you to do so. Socializing was also a key factor to festivals, which is something she didn't particularly enjoy either. The typical attendees of festivals often smelled, either with an abundance of perfume or similar scents, or out of perspiration. If there was one thing that Astrid preferred, it was cleanliness-- Which was often something that festivals and the typical masses lacked.

The companion that had convinced her to join her had all but left her on her own, abandoning her after finding a partner at the fountain. Astrid had remained there, sour and bitter, glaring at the couples that mingled together. A shudder had, on the occasion, trailed up and down her spine, which drew her to cross her arms over her chest, the creaking of leather crying out in protest. She stuck out like a sore thumb, clad not in attire that one would expect to find at a celebrating. Metal, leather, and dark fabrics covered her form, leaving little exposed to the evening air. A section of one thigh, her fingers, the apex of her left shoulder, and a smaller portion of her right upper arm were all that could be seen. So, too, could the upper portion of her face. From the bridge of her nose and down, a thick layer of fabric obscured her features from view.

It was with grey eyes that she watched the lone, shrouded figure approach the fountain. She was no longer the only one out of place, but she made not motion to invite him into her company. No, quite the opposite. She was content to stand to the side and watch as he looked about, almost as if he were searching for something. What individual comes to a celebration and doesn't partake? Someone other than herself? How unexpected. His mumbles did not reach her ears, but the awkward way in which the Rodian couple observed him before her left, informed her that this individual may be worth investigating.

After Tarith left the fountain, so too did Astrid. She kept her distance, but she trailed him all the same.

 

[Revenchent]

Never one to tarry long when unnecessary, Tarith walked as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself away from the fountain. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers curling around the familiar form of his shattergun. If there was any trouble, the high-powered weapon would surely put a stop to it. If that didn't do the trick, then the other tools of his trade held within his great-coat most certainly would.

He darted down one alley, then another. His eyes drifted shut as he opened himself to the great ocean, envisioning himself as some form of submarine passing through its depths. He was unnatural, an anomaly, but there was nothing to take notice of him here. Within the currents of the force, he felt nothing, save for a strange pull toward the massive congregation gathered around the live band. It was all the confirmation he needed to trudge onward toward the stage.

The music was more akin to noise pollution than anything Tarith might have enjoyed. He scrunched his nose up in distaste, and furrowed his brow. The cowl, fortunately, his his expression particularly well. He stopped at the end of the alley, pale eyes drifting over the crowd. Among them, he saw a larger figure clad in an expensive tunic. Horns protruded from his shaved skull, and black tattoos colored his the dark skin of his face. A woman of similar coloration, and a slimmer build stood alongside him. They swayed slowly, laughing and shouting to one another over the booming music.

This was the man Tarith had come for.

"Hello again," Tarith said to the distant man. He prepared to confront him, standing taller now. Gathering his courage, Tarith moved forward. He had taken one step when he felt the currents shift.

Confused, Tarith turned his head, his eyes locking upon [member="Astrid"]'s form.

"You shouldn't follow strangers. They might get uncomfortable - make bad decisions." He said, hoping to scare his tail off. How had he not felt her sooner? Cursing his ineptitude, Tarith turned bodily toward the woman. His arms folded over his chest as he tried to intimidate her into leaving.

 

[Astrid]

Some had, in the past, referred to her as thick-headed, incapable of knowing when to quit. Unfortunately for them, lessons had been provided and those that had no longer plagued her day to day routine. Frequently during her younger days, she had often been confronted with those who sought to intimate her. Having seen bigger and badder individuals than the shrouded man before her, Astrid was not to be dissuaded.

The music was obnoxious, but when was music not to her ears? If an untimely, or timely depending from whose perspective it was, unexplainable event happen and put a cease to the noise, she would owe it's origin undying appreciation.

Of course, following strangers was never really the best plan of action-- which naturally she knew, she had done so anyway. If she hadn't wanted to be seen, she'd have gone through the steps to make it less obvious than it had been. Granted, it had been rather obvious from the beginning, considering she had done little to nothing to conceal her presence other than follow from a distance.

"It also makes people uncomfortable when you walk around in a celebration meant for socializing in a hood that obscures your visage. It kind of defeats the purpose, don't you think?" Like her inability to back off easily, Astrid wasn't known for practicing what she preached.

 

[Revenchent]

He had little time to deal with the locals. His target was just across the promenade, none the wiser about the danger that stalked him in the alleys. If he tarried any longer, the older man might decide to return home with his woman, and then there would be no easy way of dealing with him. Regardless, this woman was a witness, if nothing else. If people started asking questions, she might have answers for them, and he could not allow that. Grimacing, Tarith stalked down the alley toward the woman, his voice laced with displeasure.

"I've got an anxiety issue," he lied, "Can't really look people in the face. Not in crowds like this. Hence the cowl," the irritation in his voice was palpable. He cast a look over his shoulder, only to see that his target was gone. It wasn't that he had simply gone off to another part of the promenade either. Tarith looked from one end of it to the next, and saw no trace of him. It was as if the man had vanished.

A curse fell from his lips.

"It was nice meeting you," he tilted his head back so that he might get a better look at her. Colored hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. She looked strikingly different from the normal Naboo, and that only served to trigger more alarms in the back of his head. He needed to deal with this man tonight, if not here, then in his home. He couldn't let some local stop him, even if she gave him away.

Turning, Tarith made to walk away from the woman. "I've got a date lined up that I can't miss."

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

Nothing that the cowled man said would have persuaded her to believe that he was not a predator. It was evident in the way he lied, evident in the way his head swung about. Perhaps he had lost his prey? She was no fool, nor no stranger to the hunt. This man had a task at hand and he wasn't interested in participating in the festivities. As such, she rolled her eyes as his words of a 'date' fell from his lips.

"Trust not the honest man, for you can not trust that he will always be honest. Trust, instead, within the liar and the cheat, for you can believe that they will be dishonest. Lie to me once, lie to me twice. Lie to me thrice and thou shalt be..." She let her wistful voice trail off as she followed after him.

Her arms had fallen from her chest, one palm finding the leather upon her hip and gripping it. The other swung down and then forward, halting to gesture to the back of the man. "You're out of place. You're a liar, and you're anxious about something. Mmm, yes. You may as well give up on your desideratum for the evening, what ever or who ever it might be," she mused, catching up to him, her feet matching his stride. "Given that you've something else to preoccupy yourself with for the time being. I must ask, why tonight of all evenings?"

 

[Revenchent]

There was a distinct part of Tarith that realized how much easier the situation would be if he could just do away with the girl. There would not be any witnesses in the alley, and there would be little to trace back to him if he was careful. Given all the rigorous training regimens his mother and father had put him through; he knew he could deal with her without too much effort.

The thought was a short, fleeting things, and Tarith chastised himself for it. To think such things was anathema to what he was trying to do here - to what he had been taught. Such violent impulses had become increasingly common in him lately. His brothers and sisters did not suffer such defects. He'd never let himself act upon them before, reciting the old mantras, or relying on the Great Ocean for clarity, but they always lingered. They dug into the back of his mind like a rare form of cancer, slowly eroding away at his will. Despite all the teachings, mantras, and old stories, he could never be rid of them. Not completely.

Lost in his own thoughts self-deprecation, he did not notice as she came up alongside him. Frowning, the cowled man turned to look at her as they walked.

"Preoccupy myself with you?" He asked, exasperated. "I don't need to explain things to you, miss. It's all something you can't get wrapped up in."

Once they reached the edge of the dancing throng, he came to a halt. "And now I've lost him; in no small part thanks to you."

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

"I never said you should occupy yourself with me," Astrid remarked, pointedly as she bent her knees, leaning so that she could look at the face below the hood. "Of course, you shouldn't have to explain things. They're obvious, are they not? And, you just confirmed my suspicions. Are you hunting a bounty? I wouldn't feel too concerned with losing the trail for the moment. This is a very busy occasion and if he..." She paused, straightening herself back up, twirling the end of her braid around one slender finger. Her hair, dyed blue and black, was soft and well-kept. She'd always preferred the braid that began atop her crown, the fashion in which her mother had always said suited her. She'd claimed she'd had the face for braids. Who was Astrid to complain?

When she continued, she rolled her gray eyes. "It is a he, confirmed by your very words. And... If he is like any other man here, he'll be too drunk by morning to evade you. I wouldn't be too concerned. As such, you do have some time to kill. Why not ditch the bathing towel that makes you stick out like a sore thumb and enjoy yourself?"

Truth be told, Astrid was on her own job. She'd come to the celebrating along with a friend, but had only agreed because there was work to be done there. There was plenty of time to waste until it came time to get to work, having been persuaded to arrive early by her companion. Had she known she was going to be abandoned, Astrid would have preferred to stay at her temporary lodging until time required her to get on the move.

Due to the unfortunate events that had left her standing around, she had little to do in the mean time and she felt drawn to the predator at her side thanks to a mixture of curiosity and an awkwardness that had settled over her, one that had left her feeling anxious over being left to her solitude. As much as she disliked congregations, it didn't feel right to have to suffer through it alone.

 

[Revenchent]

The woman had a point, but she might as well have pointed out his target was a perpetual for all the good it did. Tarith's lip curled in distaste as he beheld the crowd. From what he knew of the man he was supposed to deal with -- and he knew his target very well -- he would be off enjoying the company of the young woman he had found. She'd be a witness, and even with his cowl, may be able to trace things back to Tarith. He would need to wait until she had either left his target's company, or find another way to get rid of her.

Shaking his head, Tarith turned his head away from the woman, so that she might not see his facial features. His arms folded tight about his chest, and his presence within the Great Ocean diminished significantly. If anyone with a connection to the ethereal realm was present, they would not see the waters shifting about his immobile form any longer.

Cutting himself off from the Great Ocean was unfavorable, but necessary. On the off chance his target knew of his interests, it might prove better to go completely unseen. He knew the possibility was low, but any percentage was more than enough for Tarith. With a quiet curse, the hunter turned toward his unlikely, and unwanted companion.

"Don't you have a man to be driving up the nearest cargo ramp, or some friend to be pestered?" Tarith groaned, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could just ascend the buildings to escape her attentions, but then there were likely guards on the roof. He had no desire to raise any difficult questions about his presence.

"He has a villa. I plan to wait for him there. No point wasting my time at a party."

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

Astrid snorted and once more her eyes rolled. "I don't, nor would have I any interest in one. As for friends, I got ditched when for the first man that threw himself at her feet. I'd rather not follow a couple. So your recommendation is, unfortunately for you, unfruitful," she replied.

The information surprised her. A target with residence on the planet? Was he not a native, then? Or, if he was-- was he so foolish enough to wade through a crowded festival to hunt down a target that had mingled through the throngs of bodies? The thoughts that came to her mind made her laugh behind the veil that barricaded the lower portion of her face from view. If it had been her on the hunt, she wouldn't have even made an appearance on the streets at all.

"You must be a novice," came her accusation. "How quaint. Well, since you've already ruined your task by coming to hunt looking like that... What were you planning on doing? Taking him out here, in the middle of all these people? How stupid are you? If your entire intent was to meet him at his villa... You've said it yourself, why waste time at a party?"

What had once been simple curiosity was now bafflement and annoyance. Her brow furrowed and she released her braid to narrow her eyes, staring at the visible portion of his face.

 

[Revenchent]

Tarith was quickly coming to find that he did not care for the woman's company. That wasn't to say he had welcomed it in the first place - quite the opposite. He very much wished to be left alone to his work. Her words only encouraged his ire, and he was tempted to shove her away with a brief show of telekinetic force. That ought to get rid of her.

Just as the thought formed, he banished it. It would not do him well to show his power over the Great Ocean. The memory of the Sith was still sharp in the minds of the masses, and few made the distinction from their kin, and others who called the ethereal realm a second home. Rather, he chose to lash out with words.

"If I had come to be lectured by an arrogant woman who knows so little about the current situation that I find myself amazed at her assumptions, I would have taken one of the ladies of the court with me." He snapped, wanting nothing more than to be rid of this woman. If he could not track the man here, then the villa would be paramount.

Shaking his head, and not wishing the woman to follow, Tarith cut down a corner toward the garage where his speeder was parked. The villa wasn't particularly far, and he'd memorized the way in case this happened. Not for the first time, he wished he shared his sisters' capacity for manipulating the minds of others. He could have just wiped his presence from the woman's mind if that were the case.

"Good day."

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

In her defense, consideration for accepting his dismissal did come to mind even though she chose to blatantly ignore it. Alarm bells signaled in her head, telling her that this course of action was not to be advised. Comparable to a bull that didn't know when to quit, Astrid followed after him. She had to bite her lip to avoid making a snarky comment about it not, in fact, being day and refrained from making it.

She watched him get a lead on her, hanging back for the barest moment. If anything else, she wanted to see the individual before her fail in his task, just to sate her into contentment. In her eyes, he'd already made several novice mistakes and placed whatever it was he wanted from the man in jeopardy. If he simply wanted to talk with the man, he wouldn't have come dressed as he was. Her conclusions on the matter had already led her to believe that he was a predator, and from what she had learned she felt sure of it. This was no simple matter at hand, no. It was something more. Her job could wait for another night, the deadline several days off. What was one more night of procrastination? Wasted time, but not so wasted if what you were wasting it on was deemed worth while.

This was certainly worth while. Perhaps he knew something she didn't. There was no doubt there were many things he knew she didn't, of course, but when it came to her career path, she was pretty confident that discretion and subtlety were beneficial to the extreme. He's broken several of her rules of the job, and -- even though he didn't know them, she wanted to know why. Astrid wanted to see just how the evening would play out.

Who knows. Perhaps some good would come out of it.

 

[Revenchent]

Whether the woman followed or not, Tarith did not particularly care. He was confident she would not mention him if anyone asked, and even if she did, what identifiers did she have?

She could say he wore a cowl, and a leather great-cloak, but what else? Nothing. Satisfied with the relative safety of his identity, Tarith continued down the path toward the speeder dock. Just as he was supposed to turn into the dock, he stopped, spinning on his heel. Seemingly alone, Tarith clambered toward the nearest building he could find. It was three-stories in height, and dotted with what would make for perfect handholds. With the help of the Great Ocean to steady him, the hunter bounded up one level, then the next. His hands grasped at window sills, and the railing of balconies. With practiced ease, he ascended the face of the structure, only stopping once he'd hurdled himself up onto the roof.

"Try and keep up," he mumbled, dusting his hands off on his great-coat. There were few guards this far from the main festivities, and he was confident he could keep from the public eye if he moved along the rooftops. More importantly, he would be a hell of a lot more difficult to persue, both by guards, and by the strange woman.

The villa was not far from the speeder-dock. He could make out its lights at the edge of the city, alongside those of various other high value homes. There were personal security officers, but Tarith doubted they would bee looking up for intruders. With his objective in sight, Tarith broke into a dead sprint across the rooftop, hurling himself from one precarious landing to the next. The Great Ocean steadied his feet, though he truly would not have needed it. He had been trained for this sort of thing.

With thoughts of the woman long behind him, Tarith closed in on his target, the sound of distant music thundering in his ears.

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

The hunter was now the hunted as Astrid watched from the corner adjacent to the building in which the hooded individual climbed. The skill set needed to ascend in such a manner required a level of training and dedication that not every average Joe maintained. Appreciation for the stranger arose, swelling within her as she watched. She knew full well that rooftop travel would be much harder to track, but she was a hunter and one raised to the life. To follow prey from the ground was no easy task, but it was doable.

Following the lessons of the past, Astrid moved and circled around the building, catching a glimpse of the man in the midst of his leap. The sound of his descent reached her ears and it drew forth a smile, though invisible behind thick fabric. Although the music from the festival was still the most predominate sound, if she strained her ears hard enough, she could make out the sound of thundering footfalls above. Every so often, in her ground pursuit, she would catch a glimpse of him moving from one building to the next. By the direction he seemed to follow, she assumed he was heading towards the speeder-dock.

The smile that had been birthed died from her lips at the realization. It made sense, particularly if he was in the mood to ditch his unwanted tag-a-long. There was no way she was going to let him off that easily, so she doubled her efforts to keeping him within her senses, vision and sound. Confidence lead her to believe that her assumption was correct and if it was, if she lost him, she'd press forward and try to beat him to his destination.

Either way, she was far to stubborn to be left behind.

 

[Revenchent]

He had not so much forgotten the woman, as much as he had simply figured she would not be able to keep up. Few could manage the physical feats he performed regularly. It was a testament to his training that he did not fall into the streets below. The process was one he had long since come to master. The Great Ocean told him where to position his hands and feet with each jump, and he never missed his mark. When he drew close to other people atop the roofs, he simply stuck to the shadows, or moved too quickly for them to ask anything of him. He had little intention of sticking around long enough for anyone to come asking about his presence now anyway.

Shut off from the ocean's currents, he could not feel the presence of the stubborn woman below. She was of little consequence now -- the villa was close. Drawing in a deep breath, Tarith assailed the side of a caf shop, and bounded up over its roof. The villa was just ahead, an isolated garden in the midst of the city. It was gated on all sides, and a great garden grew freely within its protective walls. In the center of the land stood the structure itself, well over four stories, and long as any mansion Tarith had come across. Guards patrolled the grounds, no doubt on high alert now that their patron had returned home from the festivities.

They would provide enough of a challenge. Grinning, Tarith carefully lowered himself down the side of the caf shop. About halfway down, he kicked off the side of the wall, and called upon the powers of the great ocean. The fall would have broken his legs, had he not called upon its aide. Instead of crashing into the underbrush, Tarith landed with simple grace, the sound nulled by the roar of music in the background.

He cast a look around, and smile. None had seen him. Gathering himself, Tarith took a long around, judging where bet to assault the building.

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

A surprising turn was taken, one she had not expected. Instead of heading straight to the destination she had assumed, they had delved off the direct path that would have taken them there. Several times she had almost fallen behind, obstacles along the streets been in more of abundance down below. The majority of her focus never left where the mysterious individual was or should appear.

When she did lose him, Astrid swore hotly under her breath. The path had veered and she had no concept of where he could possibly be heading at all. After kicking at an object that had been discarded on the street, left in abandonment, she pressed onward. There was hope that she might find some glimpse, or some sound, that would return her to the hunt. She eyed the rooftops with suspicion. It was hard to plant her mind in his shoes; she had no idea what his aim really was, other than to confront someone. Was it even just a simple confrontation? No, she'd already come to a conclusion on that. It was something more, wasn't it?

With a shake of her head, long black and blue braid shifting over leathers, Astrid hastened her pace. Time slipped by before she was rewarded for her dedication. In the distance, she saw the barest outline trailing down from a building. Without a doubt, she was certain that it was the cowled man. She threw herself behind a wall as he launched himself from the building and landed. Awaiting the sound of impact, she quickly became aware that there hadn't been one.

Astrid's brow furrowed as she pressed her cheek to the building and peered out with one eye to watch as Tarith stand there, as if studying the area before him. As she focused her attention passed him, she gasped. So that was who he had a bone to pick. ]

Too late did she realize she had made a sound. She withdrew a foot from the corner, mentally kicking herself as she pressed the back of her skull against the wall. Biting down on her lip, she waited for a moment or two before drawing in a slow, deep breath and moved back to the corner to once again down the way.

 

[Revenchent]

The men were not particularly well armed. They wore simple blue uniforms, and only had basic sidearms for protection. Tarith could deal with that well enough, though not directly. He would need to take them by surprise, but then that was the only real way to do this sort of thing, wasn't it? With practiced grace, he darted from one throng of bushes to the next, always finding a shadow to hide under, or a nook to crawl into when the patrols drew too close.

The courtyard was large, but it had plenty of cover. Whomever had designed this place had not done so with intruders in mind. Tarith silently thanked whatever gods there may have been for such an oversight, and moved to dart forward. A quiet gasp made him freeze. Turning slowly, Tarith muttered a curse as he caught sight of who the gasp had come from. How in Corellia's Nine Hells had she followed? Why?

He had just begun to rise toward her when another sound made his blood run cold. One of the patrolling officers stood just a pace to his right, his eyes wide and his hand falling to the pistol at his hip. Tarith did not even think to react, he simply did. He whirled upon the guard, smashing a leather-bound fist into the man's jaw. The sharp crack of bone snapping could be heard over the dull musical roar as the man stumbled back. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth as he brought his pistol to bear, but Tarith was quicker. His knee came up into the man's fist, knocking the blaster away and making him stumble backward. Tarith kept up the momentum, bowling forward to tackle the man. He grabbed him by the forearm, and twisted it at an uncomfortable angle behind his side. The man screamed, but it didn't matter. One of the other guards had already come, his blaster level at Tarith and his human shield.

"It'd be wise to let him go." The guard, a burly Trandoshan, said. Tarith did not offer him a verbal reply, instead tilting his head toward the woman. If she was intent on sticking around, then she was going to help one way or another. Particularly because the guard took note of the obvious motion, and his reptilian eyes fell to her.

"Take him," Tarith hissed, pushing the man forward, and slamming a boot into his spine. The guard did not risk the shot, not wanting to hit his friend. It bought Tarith the moment he needed to pitch a roll through the shrubbery, and emerge safely on the other side. He'd found himself at the doors of the manor. Pleased, he pulled the shattergun from within his coat, slipped a power pack into the chamber, and fired. The lock of the back door exploded, and the door itself hissed open as was directed by security measures.

"He's all yours," Tarith chuckled, slipping his way into the building. If she wanted to be involved, then so be it. He was sure the Trandoshan guard would make for the interesting company she had been craving.

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

"You can't be serious," the woman groaned as she heard the words. Her hand instantly flew to the concealed weapons upon her thigh, but hesitated and instead of drawing them, she threw herself back around the corner. If she helped the strange man, she was an accessory to his crimes. Considering who lived within the manor he was now infiltrating, did she really want to join him in ticking them off?

Yes. Yes, she did. Confident, she stepped back out from her shelter with the two small knives drawn. The second was helping the first guard back to his feet. "Hey boys," Astrid called out, "Wanna play?" With a flick of her wrist, the leather bound woman threw the first of the two knives towards the two, it's point burying itself into the Trandoshan's shoulder.

He let out an infuriated groan as the injury forced his hold upon his companion to falter. The first guard thumped back to the ground, only to receive a knife of his own in the side of his knee. Both injuries were meant to temporarily disable, not cause any lasting effects.

She only had a moment to act before the Trandoshan recovered, his thicker skin serving to be better protection than the flesh of his compatriot. He lifted his weapon and took aim at her, but Astrid had been prepared for that. Lunging forward, she flung her foot skyward, kicking free the weapon from his grasp, clawed hands trying desperately to regain a hold instinctively though to no avail. Astrid moved in, sending her fist crashing into his unprotected throat while his attention was on the gun. He choked, gasping for breath and doubled forward, only to be popped in the nose by her fist. As blood streamed from his nose, choking, he stumbled backwards as Astrid drew another one of her knives and slammed the butt of it's pummel into the reptilianoid's temple. His body collapsed backwards on the ground unconscious.

Satisfied with her victory, she begun to walk over towards where the Trandoshan's weapon had fallen, but found she had lost her footing. The first guard had recovered and had kicked her feet out from under her with his uninjured leg. Astrid scrambled back to her feet and, noting that he was still on the ground, sent the toe of her boots against the side of his head.

With both guards taken care of for the time being, she retrieved both knives from them and the gun (for good measure), and grumbled to herself. Of course the strange man was a trickster, a cheat. She had taken note of the blast during her scuffle, and slipped through the bushes to find the open door.

She did not immediately rush over to it and instead opt to take a moment to gauge the situation. Should she or should she not? In the end, she concluded that she might as well, considering she wasn't as unidentifiable as the man in the hood was. Her hair alone was easy enough to pick out in a crowd. So, Astrid slipped over to the door and looked in.


[member="Tarith"]

 

[Revenchent]

Tarith lacked the awareness of his siblings. He could see what he wanted to well enough, but the things he did not care for were often the most important. He expected the guards to capture the woman, and that would be the end of it. They would not kill her -- this was Naboo after all -- but they would wonder why she was trespassing. Tarith decided she could come up with her own reasons; he would not be responsible for her poisonous curiosity.

As Tarith had expected, the music had easily drowned out the blast of his shattergun. It was most certainly heard within the compound, and whoever might be inside would be on alert, but no bystanders would be reporting in on the violence.

Like a silent predator, Tarith stalked through the halls. He held his shattergun close, and moved slowly from one corridor to the next. It was an ornate home, lined with many works of art ranging from elaborate paintings, to ornate porcelain busts of prominent members of the aristocracy. The floors themselves were a clean black tile, and the walls a darker shade of gray that helped exemplify the complexity of the art.

Were he here under safer pretenses, Tarith might have stopped to enjoy the art. As things were, he had a target to find. He rounded one corridor, then another, and another. It felt as if he were caught in a great maze, but he knew he was growing close. After few moments more of this aimless wandering, Tarith opened himself to the Great Ocean. It was risky, but it would get him out of this place faster.

Instantly, he knew the path he should take. Throwing caution to the wind, Tarith broke into a dead sprint. Up ahead, he felt the presence of his opponent along with a number of others. Sure enough, he cited two stocky rodians standing outside a grand looking door. They had rifles in their hands, their bug-like eyes darting from one corner to the next. The aliens were on alert.

Tarith did not linger long enough for them to get a good look at him. He barreled into one of the many adjacent rooms - a guest room, it seemed - and charged for the nearest window. He heard shouting behind him as he smashed through the glass, his great-coat absorbing most of the impact, and mitigating the amount of glass slicing into his flesh. The fall was around two stories, but Tarith had no intention of doing as gravity willed. He held out an arm as he fell, his fingers grasping onto one of ledges below. Not wanting to linger, he swung himself from the ledge onto another down the length of the building. With great difficulty, he managed to sink his fingers into the right grooves to keep himself from falling. Pain ran up his arms, and he could not contain the pained grunt that forced itself from his lips, but he'd made it.

Safe from the Rodians' pursuit for the moment, he forced himself up the ledge. Once standing, he carefully skirted onto an adjacent balcony. He continued this careful process of hopping from ledge to balcony until he found himself hanging over the largest of them. He had no doubt it connected to the room the Rodians had been guarding. He took a moment to draw in a deep breath, and released himself, falling onto the marble floors.

The man awaited him. He was clad in a nightgown, a short hood pulled over his horns, and a pistol in his hands. The woman he'd brought with him lay still in a large bed behind him.

"I did not think you would come," the man intoned. "I thought you a coward, like your father. You are bold to approach me like this."

Tarith did not honor him with a reply. He began to slowly move forward, but the sidearm aimed directly at his chest gave him pause.

"Ah, hold on a moment dear boy. My guards will not return for some time. They are imbeciles, and so you and I've time to chat." The man, clearly a Zabrak now, laughed. "It was only a matter of time until one of your order came for me. Is the woman with you?"

Tarith grimaced. "No." He answered simply.

"Then you will not mind if my warriors take her as compensation for the trouble you've caused?"

Tarith did not answer with words. He began to move, and the blaster fired.

There was naught but silence as the door started to creak open.

[member="Astrid"]

 

[Astrid]

While Tarith was getting himself lost, running from guards, and being a monkey, Astrid was on the run around the gardens that surrounded the building. Throwing herself around corners and statues, shrubs, and large vases of flora she dodged and avoided capture. They weren't firing their weapons, which was cause for alarm. Taunts were thrown at her, words of dark promises.

She had run from the door when several guards had run to check out the source of the blast, catching her in the act of allowing herself in. She'd turned tail and bolted back towards the hedges that barricaded the two unconscious guards from view, but a call from one of their compatriots deterred her and she altered her course.

There were more on her tail than she had enough comfort for, and she was losing her ground. Soon she would be so outnumbered and outmaneuvered that there would be no hope for escape. Unless...

Astrid, judging by her position in the garden, was certain she was back towards the front corner where she had followed Tarith. With decisive action, the woman drew in a sharp breath and bolted for the front door. She could hear the guards coming up, so she pressed herself against the wall beside the door frame. She dared not breathe nor move, not until the sounds of their charge passed. There would be, of course, security within. She may not know the layout of the building, but it would give her more opportunities to lose the growing group of guards outside. At least for the time being, even though to put herself in the situation was akin to stepping into a cage and hoping that she could outsmart her captors.

When she became animated once more, she took a moment to glance at the art work upon the walls, but only for the barest of moments. There was no time to waste. Time was of the essence.

The paths she took, she could not have recounted, but one thing was for certain-- she met no one for several minutes. When she did, it was two guards already in a fury. The Rodian's called out, charging after her.

Astrid let out a swear, turned and bolted in a different direction. The rifles in their hands were cause for concern. The sound of a shot was fired and she threw herself through the closest door on her left and landed in a heap upon the floor, tripped by her own feet.

[member="Tarith"]