Kark You, Unicorn Wizard

[Eralam]

It was supposed to be a working lunch.

Eralam and [member="Sinistra"] were rarely in the same system these days, much less the same planet. Both had extremely busy schedules, what with running intelligence networks and the like. After their frankly bizarre encounter in the bar, they had kept in touch, mostly through letters, if you could believe it. They took a perverse pleasure in using their networks to exchange paper correspondence, much to the bafflement of their agents. The letters were coded to hell and back, so they couldn't actually read them, but the agents involved in exchanging had turned guessing the contents into sort of a game.

They mostly assumed they were collaborating on some big intelligence project, and that the exchange was a secure way to exchange information without it being detected. The fact that it also helped the agents get to know and trust each other, at least a little, was just a bonus.

In reality, the letters were laughably mundane. They shared some common tastes when it came to literature, holodramas, and other entertainment. They shared recipes; despite being inorganic, Eralam was an accomplished cook, and Sinistra was pretty damn good herself when the mood hit. They talked about philosophy and history. They gossiped about what a mess the galaxy was, and how much better it would be if all the galactic leaders were locked in a room with a single knife and no rations and were told the last survivor would be let out when all the food was gone. One could argue that using secure assets like this was an enormous abuse of power, but they didn't much care. It really was good practice for their network, and they enjoyed their conversations.

The strangest thing about their time in the bar, aside from the unexplained lapse in time, was the inexplicable bond of trust that they walked away with. That trust was budding into a friendship, though whether or not it would last was anyone's guess.

This lunch, more than anything, was a means to test that and see what exactly they would be to one another. On the surface, it was ridiculous. Eralam was an ancient Shard, bound by a philosophy of non-involvement and neutrality. Sinistra was a Sith, tied to the pursuit of power in whichever form pleased her. Trust was not something either could afford, let alone friendship.

And yet, here they were. Eralam was in his robot form, sipping a cup of tea. Sin had ordered something Era didn't recognize, though she assured him that it was delicious. Together they were waiting on the third party to arrive, a mysterious fellow who had approached both their agents separately with claims of having juicy information that he would only give in person. It screamed trap, but what the hell, might as well. They had yet to meet face to face after that fateful evening, and this was as good an excuse as any. And if it was a trap, well, they were both armed. Eralam had his Colt on his hip, as well as his eralam-crystal lightsaber. He couldn't see what Sin had brought to the fight, but he assumed it was some stuff she knew how to use.

"So then the guy just jumped off the building. A thousand floors up, nowhere to go, and the karker just jumped. Screamed something about how we'd never take him alive. I thought I was going to die laughing. I mean, all I wanted was the name of the guy who sold him that stolen blaster. I guess he thought it was important or something." The Shard chuckled at the memory. "So when is this guy supposed to be getting here?"

 

[Sinistra]

"Beats me, but I'm willing to bet the life of the sniper across the street that it's not going to be pretty if he does."

Her lips were mostly hidden by her cup as she spoke so that the shooter looking through the scope would be somewhat in the dark that they were on to them. She sipped her caf, enjoying the rich flavor before setting the cup back down on the table.

Between the makeup, wig, prosthetics, and the ceremonial headscarf, it was hard to get a decent look at her features. She had been at this game for a long time now. She was good a pouring enough power into camouflaging herself that she was able to escape the notice of most people. It was the art of being part of the scenery and it was one she excelled at.

She had been holed up quite a bit on Garqi for the last few weeks, working diligently on something she refused to talk about. Eralam hadn't pushed, not that she would have said anything to him even if he had. There were some secrets too close to her heart, so to speak. Plus when it came to Sithly pursuits, Eralam's personal core beliefs left him unable to understand why any of it mattered to the diminutive Lord.

Passion for the dark arts was beyond him.

Switching to telepathy so that their conversation could be undetected, she gently stirred the cream in her caf.

<<How do you want to handle this? I count 2 so far, a sniper across the street and a man reading a paper 3 tables behind you.>>

[member="Eralam"]

 

[Eralam]

Eralam chuckled.

<<Way I see it, if this is an ambush, it's a piss poor excuse for one. Either this fellow doesn't know what he's doing, he doesn't know who he's dealing with, or he's got an army waiting in the wings.>>

The Shard leaned back in his chair, stretching in an almost organic fashion. His metallic body made all sorts of interesting creaks and pops that it probably shouldn't have been able to. It looked and sounded like a human who had been sitting too long working out some kinks in their muscles. In reality, Eralam was popping open dozens of safety interlocks that kept his strength limited to something that could move and work safely in public with squishy organics. His control was as fine as ever. He wasn't about to magically shatter his teacup or anything. However, if he wanted to throw it into low orbit, that was a little more possible. The interlocks were more to do with the political ramifications of having a Force using droid loose in public areas than anything else.

They were discussing tactics when a lone figure approached. He was probably male, judging by the ridiculous multicolored beard. He wore ridiculously bright purple robes, and had a horn grafted onto his forehead. His skin was the sort of white that only comes from staring at a console in a basement from weeks on end.

"I," he declared in a reedy, nasally voice, "am the Unicorn Wizard."

@Sinistra

 

[Sinistra]

The man who approached them was obviously unwell, and it did not take much for her to look up at him with great wide eyes, her voice trance-like as she mind tricked the kark out of him.

"You should hurry home, I believe it's time for Game of Thrones."

He looked stricken, repeating her words before he turned suddenly to dash off through the crowds, howling something about Circe. Sinistra looked back to Eralam, less than amused.

<<Now then, I'll take the guy behind you. You get the sniper. Count of three?>>

 

[Eralam]

Eralam nodded slightly.

<<1...2...3>>

On the count of three, the Shard snatched his revolver from his holster, leveled it, and fired. At this range, a mere pistol shouldn't have posed a threat to the sniper, but the Colt was no mere pistol, and Eralam was no ordinary marksman. The bullet took the sniper in the left eye. The Shard watched him slump to the side, clearly lifeless, as he himself dropped into a crouch. His Sith companion would deal with her target in her own way, and he wasn't planning on jogging her elbow. Plus, judging by the bloom of hostility pouring in their direction from the Force, it would definitely be a good idea to watch her back.

It was impossible to tell how many enemies there were, but it felt like an army was bearing down on them.

<<Uh, Sin? I think we've got company.>>

 

[Sinistra]

The guy behind Eralam also looked suddenly stricken and fell face first on the table, his eyes staring blankly at the wall, the light behind them extinguished. She rose from the table, adjusting the veil she wore so that her face would be mostly hidden and tied it around behind her head. She was fairly well disguised, and as she pulled the silver hilt from beneath the flowing layers of material in her robes, she nodded to him.

She could feel the approaching storm acutely, and it felt as though it had them surrounded. Adepts? Mercs? Exiles? The list of possible enemies was too long to narrow down. There was a possibility they were after Eralam. She was so swathed in disguise, she looked nothing like herself. She used an alias to come here and a throwaway ship. Eralam never disguised himself. For a spymaster, it was infuriating.

"My ship is this way. I think it's high time I got back to it."

She turned on her heel, the hems of the skirts billowing as she made her way up the street, the hilt in her right hand hidden by the voluminous sleeves of her dress.

[member="Eralam"]

 

[Eralam]

Eralam followed after; his ship was in the same general direction.

He could feel the pressure building in the back of his mind. Focused killing intent, directed towards the two of them. The little plaza they had been eating lunch in wasn't large, maybe a hundred meters to a side. It was cluttered with all sorts of tables and chairs and the like, just like millions of other similar outdoor spaces in cities and towns across the galaxy. It was mean to be a pleasant, peaceful outdoor dining area, not a battlefield.

Well, such things happened from time to time.

The Shard called upon the Force and scoured a large swathe clear of any obstacles with a burst of telekinetic energy. The sturdy wrought iron furniture went flying off to the sides with enough force to embed them in whatever buildings they struck. Now was not the time to be subtle. The first enemy soldiers arrived on the opposite side of the square, away from the direction they were running. They appeared to have blaster rifles of some kind and quickly began spraying fire towards the unlikely pair.

The Shard fell back, placing himself in between [member="Kira Corsai"] and the blasterfire. It wasn't that she needed to be protected, far from it. He was pretty sure she could handle those goons in her sleep. But unlike the Shard, she was able to more accurately read organic minds, and might be able to find a clear way out. Plus, Eralam's prodigious skill with Absorb meant that, not only were the blaster bolts harmless, they were actually a decent source of energy. Something told him they'd need as much as he could gather for the fight that was brewing.

<<I can feel something getting closer, but I can't tell how many we're up against. Any chance you can?>>

 

[Sinistra]

<<No.>>

Which was the honest truth. There were many things the Darkside could do but tell her exactly what the threats were approaching them wasn't one of them. Her powers did not include precognition so what they were about to face would be as much of a surprise to her as it would be to him. She absolutely wasn't about to step of her Force Stealth in order to find out either. Might as well put a neon sign over her head that read "BAD GUY HERE".

His flair for the dramatic sent people, chairs and dishes flying and Sinistra wondered how in the mighty hells he ever managed to be a successful spy. There was nothing about him that managed to ever try to blend in. It was pondering this while she moved speedily up the street that she came to realize that he was a spy no longer. He didn't care if he brought attention wherever he went. He wasn't on the job anymore.

However, she was. This simply would not do.

This would be a matter for discussion once they made it away from this pathetic excuse for a planet. Right now, she turned her attention to the situation at hand. She rounded a corner into a pair of gunman, their blasters raised and with a dramatic whirl that fanned out her garments, she ducked and spun low, catching the left gunman behind the knees and driving a hard right elbow into his chest on the way down, while her left grabbed his blaster hand and pointed it at the other one. The standing one went down with a couple bolts to the chest.

She rolled off the prone tough, driving a boot heel down onto his genitals as she came to standing. Wrenching the blaster from his hand, she gave him two bolts to the chest and kept on up the street. She put the saber hilt away, the blaster enough of a weapon for her considering that using her powers was an absolute last resort in situations were she knew there would be no witnesses.

The henchmen after them were easy enough to spot and she held the gun up and ready to fire, as she moved along, being mindful of rooftops and vestibules. The spaceport was roughly 8 blocks away from their location.

Worst. Lunch. Ever.

 

[Eralam]

Of course not.

Sometimes, Eralam wondered why he bothered interacting with organics at all.

The spooks were the worst. They were so caught up in secret identities and maintaining cover that they never saw the best disguise was none at all. In all his centuries with the Shard network, he could count on the fingers of no hands the number of people who had twigged onto his identity without being told. No one suspected the brash, violence-prone Iron Knight of being remotely capable of being subtle or shifty. When it came time to fight, he shot first and asked questions if the mood hit. He was a brawler, a bantha in a china shop, a loose cannon, or any one of a hundred different metaphors that all amounted to "not to be karked with."

To the local law enforcement and the planet's Jedi Temple (not affiliated with the official organization, but acting in more or less the same capacity), he was registered as an Iron Knight. On the books at least, Iron Knights were considered allies of the Jedi, and as such, Eralam was acting within the bounds of his authority to defend himself if attacked. Though the usual noise would be made about the property damage and the like, the size of the current attack would silence any questioning on the matter.

When it came time to play the spy, the old Iron Knight didn't even have to be in the same system. Hundreds of thousands of droids in this small sector alone were infected with software from the Shard Network to some degree or another. Most just passively collected data, but there were plenty he could directly control if need be. And no one would even know.

<<Well, if you're not gonna make yourself useful, I'd suggest you get out of the way. I'll make a big enough noise and draw them my way, and you can go back to your ship or whatever.>>

One could argue that he was being a little harsh; the Sith had ably handled the two gunmen that they had just encountered. But if she was determined to hide her presence, she'd be more a liability than an asset.