Private Scapegoat

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

While this was by no means her most challenging assignment to date, it tested her like no other.

She hadn’t been back on Coruscant long, but even a small sabbatical from the warfront felt insufferable. Like being placed on house arrest, having to lick every Xa Fel or drengir related wound with the restlessness of a caged tiger. More than anything she wanted to follow her Master back into the field- to make a quantifiable difference where it mattered.

And babysitting a scummy politician through his gambling addiction didn’t nearly reach that level of importance.

Senator Runik, as far as Senators go, was not well-liked. And in the span of his bloated career, he’d managed to garner himself a rather large pool of enemies. Some who were content simply dragging his name through the press, and some who sought a more permanent solution to end his reign. Her job, as instructed, was to defend against the latter. A job she took while butthurt and recuperating from her injuries.

She’d been guarding him all of half a day before he turned his sights on a casino in one of the more opulent districts Coruscant had to offer

She advised against it of course, adamantly, but no amount of warning could shake the Senator's persistence. Even trying to get food and drink screened for poison proved futile. The senator had his own men, bodyguards she was expected to work alongside, and they weren’t about to take orders from some hyper-religious teenager cosplaying an authority figure.

Undeterred, she went as far to offer a sigil of protection, but Runik swatted that idea to the ground snarling. He didn’t have much of an affinity for the occult, or force sensitives for that matter, positions he platformed very publicly. Suffice to say a Jedi bodyguard hadn’t been his bright idea, but the NJO and Galactic alliance were essentially fused at the hip. Any problem felt by one was undoubtedly felt by the other. So the Senate had nevertheless hoisted her upon the unexpecting politician in hopes he wouldn’t blindly put himself in the range of fire.

Wishful thinking.

Legally speaking, she wasn’t even sure she was old enough to be here, but the Senator's power ran deep enough for that not to prove much of an issue. They were through the doors in no time, sat at possibly the most garish table money could afford while treating the seven deadly sins like a checklist. In terms of discretion, it left much to be desired.

With two Twi'leks hugging his arms, the Iktochi senator downed a glass of wine and cackled. His face blotched fuchsia as he took another swig, loosening a slurry of credits on the table that, from the look of it, would be enough for a down payment on a sizable Coruscanti apartment. He caught her staring. "What? Never seen pocket change before?" Snorting an amused exhale into his drink, the table laughed in accordance. "You Jedi are all so frugal, it wouldn't surprise me."

She made no comment, just grimaced quietly and turned back to scoping out the establishment.

Her presence went all but ignored by Runik and his company of sleazebags and long-suffering waitresses. Not that she took offense. She had her undivided attention on the thrum of patrons surrounding them, hand flexed on the hilt of her lightsaber.

It didn’t matter how she felt about it, she had a job to fulfill.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

In stark contrast to the Padawan, Temerant bloody -loved- Coruscant.

The great capital of the Galatic Alliance, an ecumenopolis with scarcely a rival, it was one of the few places in the entire galaxy were one such as himself could get lost, truly lost, without anyone giving him a second thought. With billions of souls providing organic cover, a melting pot of cultures and peoples, it was scarcely the paragon of righteousness it'd been peddled as on and off for millenia now.

Truthfully, getting inside the planet with some false documentation was a walk in the park. It was getting there that proved something of a challenge - but the Knight Inquisitor had his ways. Avoiding detection was, after all, one of his specialties, and he'd grown wise to the best hyperspace routes to take, as well as interplanetary patrol patterns and surveillance. Had life not taken him on a different course, he might've lived it up with the best smugglers out there... Then again, he would not have had access to the technology and resources he did.

One way or another, the Sith enjoyed his little forays into the planet, even if it was work that took him there. His target this time around was a Senator with a gripe with force users, and reading his files, it hadn't taken long for the Sith to understand why he was not the most popular of individuals. Whilst it took a little digging, evidence of his corruption ran rampart, if one knew where to look. It was a shame, really: a Senator championing a cause against his kind, actively undermining the NJO would've been to the benefit of the Imperium, had he any actual traction amongst his constituents. But the man had somehow managed to draw some very negative attention even amongst the Sith Order, and as things stood, his death would prove more benefitial in the greater picture. A martyr was better than an ineffectual politician, and those were a dime a dozen, especially in the capitol planet.

Before leaving his shuttle, he'd selected one of his trophies to carry alongside his own lightsaber: a blue bladed saber he'd pried from the dead hands of a Jedi Knight he'd fought in Belasco, on a mission to obtain samples of the water-borne bacteria that plagued the planet every seven years. A worthy opponent, their dominion of Ataru was a sight to behold, much like the lightsaber was a beautiful piece. It married pragmatism with a measure of elegance, even if the hilt was a tad short for his liking: nevertheless, it would get the job done. Speaking of which...

All in all, it was -not- the most inspired of plans. Flashing a blue lightsaber, spouting some political nonsense and making a show of it before getting the hell out of there. To top things off, he'd made sure there was a number of trails for the authorities to scramble after, all directed towards Jedi sympathisers or the New Jedi Order itself. The point was not only to eliminate the target, but to give credence to Runik's rhetoric: that force users were dangerous, and that the Alliance was wrong to rely so heavily on them.

Of course, no one who knew a damned thing about how Jedi handled things would think they were behind this. But it was not unheard of for Jedi to go rogue, and the idea of a Jedi vigilante taking justice into his own hands would be enough to increment feelings of unease, not only amidst the Senate but among the general populace, largely gullible and ignorant of the ways of their 'enlightened' protectors.

He'd trailed the Senator for the better part of the day, waiting for just the right time to make his move. However, to his surprise, there was an unknown quantity to the operation: a Jedi was shadowing Runik. Young, she was no doubt a Padawan... and it did not take much for him to sense her mounting frustration through the force. She would, of course, complicate things, but the man did not find himself begrudging her presence. It would also make them more interesting, to be sure.

Finally, the small contingent headed inside a casino, where Runik would, according to his file, find a table to take a seat in and indulge in some high stakes gambling. It was the moment he'd been waiting for: Runik would be sat in place at a very public locale, and that was all the Inquisitor needed.

The first step was disabling the casino's security system. Being Runik's usual haunt, the Inquisitor had acquired schematics of the place well in advance, and knew exactly how to get in without being seen. There was a high balcony leading to a room reserved for high rollers, and making use of his force abilities would make getting in without going trough any security child's play. Security cameras where another issue entirely: he did not want tangible records of his presence there. Panic and confusion were the end goals, after all. But fortunately, he'd accounted for that too.

"X3, are you ready?" the man spoke into his helm's comm system.

"Well, I did have a hot date with the ship's binary motivator, but I can always postpone for your sake, Master," the protocol droid's voice came in.

Temerant groaned. "In the future, a simple yes will suffice," he chided as he let loose the modified UPR-17 slicing droid, letting the small, orb-like droid fly towards one of the casino's vents. "Let me know when the droid's scrambled the cameras," he demanded.

"As you wish, Master."

***
​

The darkly clad figure approached the table, not calling too much attention to itself - or at least, as little as a large, helmed man dressed in all black might call upon himself, weaving between people and slot machines. He knew -she- would spot him first. He wanted her to. She'd try to stop him... and she'd fail. And that would only add to the whirlwind of emotions he sensed from her.

However, he had a mission to fulfill, and the element of surprise was still his best bet.

"SENATOR RUNIK!" a deeply modulated voice roared as he came into range.

And before no one could act, a hand was lifted, and a powerful shockwave was sent towards the table, hitting the bodyguards, their bodies producing sickening crunches as they smashed against or over the table, chips flying and becoming veritable projectiles against anyone unfortunate enough to be in their way.

Of course, to the trained force user it might become apparent that that was no mistake, but there was but a moment of stunned silence for anyone to collect their thoughts.

"THE JEDI SHALL SUFFER YOUR CORRUPTION NO LONGER!" he continued, ensuring everyone would bloody well hear him. And then a blue light flashed... And all hell broke loose.

​

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

The man of mystery buzzed her radar long before he made himself known to the wider audience. Just as he so wisely predicted.

Through eyes thinned in hyper-vigilance, the Padawan simply watched. He was on the approach, no doubt about it. And though she could sense nothing of his intent, new faces typically didn’t bode well when trying to run a tight ship. As anticipated, she moved to caution the figure away. Ignoring Runik’s wave of dismissal, she wouldn’t let another body go unaccounted for. They were already pushing the grounds for liability as it was.

But before she could growl up a word of warning, he acted. Or more like bellowed.

Chit

“SENATOR- GET DOWN.”

The shock-wave devastated any chance they had at preparation, her sensitivity to such distortions being the only thing to keep her upright. Dammit. He was a force user. A force user without some much as a wisp of an aura. How the hell- Wincing hard as her counterparts hit their respective ends of the table, she shouldered the full brunt of impact and forced down a pained gasp. Fething great.

In a desperate bid to minimize injury, she waved the barrage of bullets away from the quickly dispersing crowd all while wringing her lightsaber free of its hilt.

A moment too late as it turned out. Runik was on the floor, the singe of plasma accompanying his fall.

Whether dead or fatally wounded, the Padawan wasn’t given the courtesy of assessing his condition, her lightsaber instead locking with Temerant’s as if it were pure reflex. The blade itself was unmistakably Jedi, but its user was anything but. She knew the implications; she’d seen them pan out. It enraged her.

“You’re no fething Jedi. Who sent you?” Why the fanfare.

In a test of brute strength, she was destined to lose, but she played the game regardless. If only to allow people the time to clear the scene. If only to keep him in place long enough for sufficient back up.

Not that she exactly had a way of signaling for that.

Runik was no great loss to humanity, but if he did turn up dead the subsequent uproar would only wedge a deeper rift between the Jedi and their Alliance. And while she was no fan of being the Senate’s colloquial lapdogs, they were currently fighting a war on two-fronts. So no, this was not the time to drive a wrench in the works.

It was no shock people wanted Runik dead, but this method of assassination seemed awfully colorful. And maybe her retaliation was only feeding into its intended dramatization. Maybe he truly was a Jedi- but intuition, along with a general familiarity with her peers, placed heavy doubt on that ever being a possibility. So what was it then? A simple smear campaign against the NJO or a red herring?

She flexed a hand, attempting her own concentrated shock wave to cleave open his mask.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant met her blade blow for blow. Large as he was, there was no movement that did not seem deliberate as he matched her in speed and power, and yet he was effortless in his footwork and positioning, thoughtless, even. Like watching a fish swim, or a bird fly. His unusual lack of presence would certainly mess with her precognition abilities, and yet, no murderous intent seemed to follow his parries, no advantage was taken from her openings.

"Why, look at the mouth on you," her opponent teased with mild amusement. "And you are?" the would-be vigilante then asked as they danced.

This was not a battle. It was a play, and they were both enacting their parts to the letter. Until she tried to unmask him.

The Sith, however, was a Master of Niman. Such tricks were of his domain, and experience, coupled with the natural precognition all force users enjoyed gave him just enough time to dodge off to the side with nearly inhuman speed, the man a black blur even as the tip of his lightsaber rose in warning, suddenly steady at the height of her chest, favouring her center of mass. A non-verbal reminder that his lack of agression was not to be mistaken for a lack of threat, his stance switching to one reminiscent of Makashi - one false step and she might find herself impaled.

"Clever," he nevertheless noted, beginning to slowly pace. "Unrefined, but clever. Clever enough to know I've done you a favour," the man continued. "Your dedication to your duty is nothing but commendable. But you have been seething all day. You know the Senator is scum. I can sense it. Your frustration. Your -contempt-," he let her know. "You do as you must. But you wonder. Is that what's right?"

The question was, in some ways, very much rhetorical. And though Temerant was no stranger to Dun Moch, he found it was also a genuine one. Amidst the terror and hysteria, amidst the crowds full of people she was sworn to protect, even as they abandoned her to an uncertain fate, only -he- understood. "So tell me... Are -you- a Jedi?"

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

"And you are?"

"-Not the one on trial." Voice dry, she watched him side step her line of questioning. Not that she honestly expected to wring out an answer. "I don't owe you an introduction." For as controlled as her words were, her swordsmanship proved otherwise. A few misplaced steps and he had her pinned, as he inevitably would.

Letting a swell of indignation thrash against her ribcage, the girl kept her expression level. Best she could anyway with a jet of plasma teasing her collarbone. He'd begun to pace, surprisingly void of any homicidal desire for having just attempted murder. His calculated, almost good-natured approach had her bristling. Atleast sadists never tried to engage her in ruminative conversation.

It was then her eyes widened in subtle revelation before thinning out. He'd been tracking them, and she hadn't taken notice? Humiliating.

"You do as you must. But you wonder. Is that what's right?"

She snorted. Deflecting his question.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't try and lecture me on morality, I did just watch you gun down a man." Though she tried not to show it, he'd successfully played to her doubts. Runik was an undeniable waste of resources. Defending him only prolonged his ardent abuse of power, and yeah, she took issue with that. But politics was all about give and take. The Jedi had to appease those in power to forward their own agenda, and considering the immensity of Runik's influence, he was a man worth appeasing.

She fell silent. Ah, the scary dark-clad man had a point didn't he.

He then went after the very core of her identity, to which she could only blink in response. Was she a Jedi? She certainly wanted to be when Kahlil had taken her up as a Padawan. He'd inspired something in her, and if he belived in the Order's integrity so did she.

Right?

The girl inclined her head. "What does it look like?"

She was a Jedi. She had to be. Otherwise what did that make her? She had nothing else to her name outside a slave brand and fleeting childhood memories.

From behind them a shuffle of limbs signaled Runik was still somehow kicking. Though not for long if his rapidly dwindling life force was anything to go by. With contempt blazing in his bleary, unfocused eyes the man staggered upwards, stabilizing himself on the table's rim as if he was just returning to the waking world.

Immediately she abandoned Temerant, attempting to shove him away with the force. The assassin wasn't going to reach him. Not before she did.

But for some reason or another, the senator didn't seem to share her urgency. Croaking something out in huttesse to his wrist com, he levied a blaster snagged from one of his bodyguards. His aim however didn't land on Temerant but rather Capris.

The girl froze. Waitwhatthefuck "Senator-"

His hands were shaky, his eyes delirious, and his words slurred. "Fethin' conspiracy. You bastards planned this didn't you? Should've known better then to let the Senate tag me with one of your kind.”

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant instinctively lowered his center of mass, knees bending further, an arm rising defensively over his form as he endured the brunt of the push, sliding backwards. A low, guttural growl reverbarated in his chest, taking purchase in his throat as he regained his composure, cracking his neck with an abrupt movement... Only to be met with the sight of the Senator pointing a blaster not at him, but at the girl, claiming conspiracies.

"...X3, are you getting this?" he mumbled into the comms.

"Oh, -am I-!" the droid replied enthusiastically. "Truly, it is at times like these I regret not being an organic life form. Otherwise, I'd fetch some snacks."

"Are you -taping- it?" the man grunted, clarifying his meaning.

"Please, Master, what am I, an amateur? Of course I'm taping it. And I know just the edits to make before I let this little gem loose into the holonet. Truly, it shall be my masterpiece!"

"Good," Temerant nodded... before pointing his hand to the Senator.

Runik snarled... then blinked, as he found himself incapable of shooting at her, as if his finger had completely clamped over the trigger... before snapping backwards at an impossible angle. Soon, the rest of his fingers followed, nails meeting wristbone before that too, snapped, for good measure. Runik wailed, but it was soon muffled as Temerant forced his mouth shut.

"Oh, shush, you pitiful excuse for a man," the Sith lightly chided him, before lifting his entire form in the air, bringing it between himself and the girl in one sharp pull.

"He tried to kill you," the man in black pointed out then. "You put your life on the line for him, and he dismissed you. Belittled you. Then blamed you for it. And the Order will too," he calmly noted. "They will call you undisciplined. Imbalanced. They will disregard any sense of personal accountability, and they will dare judge who you are. It does not matter that it is they who sent you here without guidance. It won't matter that they put you in deadly danger. All that will matter are -your- mistakes. -Your- emotions," he growled. "They will -decide- on the very core of your being without so much as a second thought, and then they will do it again. They will lift their robes and allow the Senate to continue giving it to them, just so they can hold on to a semblance of political relevance. Of control..."

He turned the man to face her, terror in his eyes.

"You can let them decide who you are. What you're worth. Or... You can take control of your own destiny. Right here. Right now," he offered. There was something almost appealing about his husky tones, modulated as they were. To the dark figure, this wasn't some kind of twisted bait. It was an opportunity, which he was all too happy to present.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

With hands raised in a ploy to diffuse the situation, she all but missed the exchange between Temerant and X3. Not that Temerant would let her forget his presence so easily.

The next moment exploded in white hot agony. So blinding Capris couldn't help but stagger back, tears involuntarily welling up in her eyes. She felt every nerve go alight in Runik, his pain a hot iron stoking her own senses. He wouldn't be signing any more legislation, that much was obvious.

Fighting to cut herself off from the sensation, her abject horror mirrored Runik's to a T. Maybe she had been wrong to assume Temerant wasn't sadistic.

With eyes locked on the senator, her gaze didn't flit over till the very end of Temerant's remarks. His speel was met with a cold stare, her palm flexing to ease through the pain.

"What kind of destiny is this?" The words fell short of her usual bite. Like a whisper. "This your twisted idea of justice?"

Runik could've shot her point blank for all she cared, her resentment was far from murderous. And no matter how Temerant warped it, he couldn't appeal to that side of her.

What he could appeal to was her disillusionment.

Sure, she was a cog in a war machine. Maybe that's all she ever had been, but fucking hell she wasn't about to kill someone just to prove otherwise.

The girl laughed, a mirthless and dry sound, "The Order's failed me, but what? You'll liberate me right?" The rhetorical question dripped with venom. "Because cold blooded murder is somehow the way to enlightenment?"

She'd killed before, years ago, and it still left her hollow to think about. Never again.

The girl took a step back, tensed, and drew on the force. In response a flicker of blue appeared before her.

It was a rune, incandescent light burned in the air by emotional charge alone. It was perhaps a good thing Kahlil Noble wasn't there to see her blatant misuse of the power. Even if he'd taught her a light side addition, anything with an origin in the dark had a way of reverting to its roots. And Capris was most definitely teetering that line, If Temerant didn't recognize the rune in specific, he'd surely recognize the art form. It was Sith through and through.

The rune burned ever so brighter and from it erupted a spire of ice. Or more simply, a spear aimed for Temerant's shoulder.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon

​

Her reaction did not escape the notice of the Sith... Nor her response. Not unexpected, perhaps, but telling.

"Liberate you? Don't be obtuse," the man grunted. "The only one who can do such a thing is yourself," the man argued calmly.

And then the rune began to burn. Were it not for the fact that he faced death on a regular basis, not to mention that he did indeed have an inkling that the esoteric display preceded danger, she might've caught him by surprise. Instead, the man swiped away with his hand, deflecting the projectile before it could seriously injure him: by now, the gap in their power and experience might begin to be starkly apparent.

Still, it gave him pause.

"That was impressive," he admitted. "Do you even know what you just did?" he asked then, his curiosity apparent. "I cannot imagine that is part of the regular Jedi curriculum. Nevertheless. You have potential."

Even as he spoke, he checked the feed his helmet displayed. He was wasting time, which was wholly uncharacteristic. But it was not every day he met a younger force sensitive, least of all one as conflicted as her. Killing her would've perhaps been the sensible thing to do from the get go. And yet, the very notion seemed... counter productive. Wasteful.

Not to mention X3 was about to make her a holonet sensation.

Regardless, the mission was the mission, and he was done playing. Runik flew forth and blue flashed, flesh rending and sealing instantly from the sheer heat of the plasma. He was dead long before his soaring body hit the ground.

"Murder is a tool," he explained, even as it all happened. "Any moron can kill. It's easy," he noted coldly as Runik's limp corpse crumbled onto the ground behind him. "This was never about murder. It's about perception. About holding up mirrors," he shrugged, as if dismissive of his own crypticism. "Go home, child. You cannot stop me. If you try, you will die," he let her know bluntly. "And your life is about to get very interesting."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Runik was dead. For good this time.

Immediately a heavy, potent sense of failure took refuge in her gut. No doubt the inquisitor could sense it roiling off the young padawan. God how could she be so stupid? So inadequate. So weak. She could practically see Kahlil's subtle frown of disappointment, lips downturned ever so slightly as to not reveal the full extent of his disapproval. In all actuality her master would never be so crass. For as long as she's known him, he'd only ever extended understanding and infinite patience. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that. Just not in the parts she was currently using.

Watching the senator's body slump to the ground, the pain receded like a wave, allowing her to fully reconnect with the situation at hand. And while his tone was surprisingly free of condescension, the girl stared back at the Temerant as if he'd insulted her. Having a Sith or–whatever he was- commenting on personal potential was not a compliment she actively sought out. She felt stupid to have even pulled what she did in the first place. Kahlil may be able to rock his shit, but her? Temerant dwarfed her.

Speaking of Temerant, he didn't even wait until the Senator hit the ground before his attention turned. As if slicing through a man was such a small, inconsequential thing to do. There'd been truth to his words, it didn't take much to snuff out a life.

He then talked of mirrors, of perception- as if trying to show her a part of herself she'd been blind to. As if he'd identified something exploitable in her, misaligned with the very Order she dedicated herself to, chipping away at her insecurity. The girl's glare seemed to break a moment, losing a degree of its intensity.

"Why do you care to show me anything?" Why bother toying with her? Why bother trying to poke holes in her moral compass- to lift the curtain from her eyes? He was here to kill a man, not for intellectually stimulating conversation.

"Go home child."

Just as quickly the fire in her eyes reignited. Ah, there was the condescension. Admittedly his warning caught her off guard.. He was sparing her? How very un-sith of him. Still she saw no other option but the badger on. She couldn't just let him walk. What would she tell her Master? What would she tell the Grand Council when news inevitably reached them?

"You cannot stop me…"

"I have to." The three words were ladled with conflict. A man was dead and she was just supposed to step aside? Instinct wouldn't let her. The Order wouldn't let her. Her eyes dropped to the Senator in accordance. Her life was about to get interesting hm? '

Not exactly the word she'd use.

 

[Darth Temerant]

Tags: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant tilted his head to her words.

"Why?" he asked. For a man who dressed like scrutiny was his biggest pet peeve, he was exceedingly blunt. "Death is not a better alternative than failure. And failure is useful. You can learn from it," he posed. Her former question, however, was perhaps more poignant. "And I'm not sure care is the right word. I suppose I'm curious," he made a dismissive gesture. "You're young. Gifted. And you do not yet wear dogma like a blindfold. You could make a difference some day," he let her know.

"Master?" X3's voice came in through the feed.

"It's rude to interrupt," he grumbled, looking slightly off to the side. Clearly, he wasn't addressing her. "I'm kind of in the middle of something," he remarked, lifting a finger to her and keeping it there, as if telling her to wait a moment, body turning slightly to the side.

"Well, yes, and I did try to keep it in. But fascinated as I am to see you so uncharacteristically engaged, you're also kind of a control freak who does not suffer tardiness, or mistakes of any kind, generally speaking," the droid replied in a barrage of words. Clearly, bluntness ran in the 'family'. "And your pick-up is inbound. ETA 55 seconds and counting."

"That would be six more if you didn't run your mouth so much," the man grunted in response. Clearly, this was a recurring feud between the two. Only the Force knew why Temerant hadn't scrapped the droid yet, giving he'd introduced people to their own entrails for far, far less.

"Quite so," the droid answered smugly.

"Hrn. Well, this was... different," he noted, his attention turned back to her. "But I'm going to go now. I suggest you cover your ears."

Even as he said that, the concussion grenade he'd discretely picked from his waist during X3's reminder, using the cover of his own body to conceal his intent, flew to her feet in a metallic blur, cooked an all. Fortunately, it was of the sonic variety, intended to disorient, rather than kill.

Almost simultaneously, the man had started running towards the designated point of extraction.

"Poor girl. My databanks suggest tinnitus is a total drag," the droid commented.

"And yet, you make me wish for it," Temerant countered.

"Well, at least you didn't rip her in half with your bare hands like that one time," the droid commented. "Which was, might I add, most impressive, Master. Even for a force user."

"If you say another word I'm going to miss the drop on purpose," Temerant groaned.

"Eh," if X3 had the ability to shrug, he would've. "We both know you'd survive."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Before she got the chance to respond a finger was raised in her direction, the tonal shift in the atmosphere both immediate and obvious. If the situation was any different her eyes may have rolled full circle, but instead she settled on a quirked eyebrow. He wasn't serious was he. Only privy to one side of the conversation, Capris was still able to piece together his meaning. Seems social hour was finally coming to an end huh?

But before she could do so much as step in his direction, a concussion grenade came rolling her way. And while her eyes widened at the implication, her reaction-time was not nearly quick enough for her to boot the thing back his way. Especially not while it was rigged to explode on impact.

Ah fu-

The flash was all it took for Temerant to disappear. Or more so the time it took for her hand to nurse the sudden crack of whiplash now splitting her head. fuckfuckfuckfuck. Ears ringing out with such sharp intensity that it had her growling, the girl forced herself to recover, rapidly blinking away residual shock from her system. That arsehole.

A smart arsehole at that, given he was nowhere to be seen once she regained her bearings. Still clinging to her shitty odds, she grappled for his nonexistent imprint on the force.

Right. Nada. The guy was a ghost.

Stifling a groan, her gaze dropped to the Senator's mangled body. He would make for a nightmare of a mission report. Even in death he managed to be a pain in the ass. With that revelation squared away, her attention seemingly turned. Scooping a loose heap of credits from the ones spilled on the floor, Capris slammed them down in front of the nearest bar tender quite bluntly, "Call the authorities- or morgue. Whichever." Ok done. It was perhaps not the best way to wipe her hands of a corpse, but keeping in hot pursuit had her occupied

Though it was admittedly a bit aimless, the girl broke out into a full sprint towards the exit- And by extension Temerant. Hopefully.

If Temerant were to step so much as a foot outside however, he would no doubt find a sniper trained on him. Several at that.

It would seem that even beyond the grave Runik had a way of interfering.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant did not go for the exit, exactly. Surely, Coruscant's authorities were on their way, and he'd wasted enough time that escaping amidst the panicked crowd was no longer an option. Not that it'd ever been his first choice: these planet-wide cities enjoyed a verticality that you could scarcely find anywhere, and there were a fair few balconies one could make a run for if they had the means to traverse such an environment. Naturally, he did, with or without the tech, though the latter was always nice.

And as he arrived... That familiar sensation, as subtle as it was ineffable, urgently demanding he ducked as death reared its head. He was moving so fast he slid accross the floor as he instinctively allowed his center of mass to fall, an invisible projectile flying overhead mere inches away, pulverizing the stone behind, even as a second followed. Both would have been deadly.

"What the kark, X3?" the man growled as he took cover behind the railing, though it would do him little good to remain there, debris flying overhead as the power was concentrated on his location, the Sith continuing to move against its length. "How'd they get here so fast?"

He'd seen Runik muttering something into a holocom, but he'd been dismissive of it, distracted as he was with the girl.

Arrogant. Stupid. Amateurish.

The intensity of the shooting intensified as they began to arrive from even more spots.

"I do not know, Master!" the droid replied, a little startled. "It is possible that we may have underestimated the Senator's resources and petiness," he noted. In fairness, the man was now dead, so his 'petiness' might be forgiven. Just this once.

Temerant switched his helm's visor to thermal imaging, but as expected, no dice. Even if Coruscant wasn't a veritable 'hotspot', signatures flying around all over the place, now frantically so as the air was filled with deadly metal, exhaust vents marred his sight with great heat 'clouds', making the view almost incomprehensible. The Knight Inquisitor was nevertheless a professional, but even with his superior training he'd had little hope it would work: these guys were professionals, likely carrying space blankets, or having in-built cooling in their own apparel, concealing them from the tech even as he used the sound an angle of the incoming fire to triangulate their positions. The latter seemed the most likely, since his own suit was likely the only thing giving him a fighting chance, forcing some guesswork on his assailants as they demolished his cover.

He jerked his head down and brought his hands over it, curling into a ball as another shot boomed straight through the railing, much too close for his liking, coming from higher up. He had mapped out in his head the location of at least three snipers, and judging by the lack of flashing lights and the damage they were causing, they were using tank-busting slugthrowers. Excellent weapons to dispatch force users: and these things were flying considerably faster than your average blaster shot, too. He didn't have time to dwell on the implications. This was very, very bad: they weren't playing around, and his blaster was useless against these people at this range and under such heavy fire. He needed to move, and fast, or there'd be nothing left of him to recognize. Not that anyone would know who he was.

"Reroute the speeder! I will find another way out!" the man instructed, yelling above the mayhem.

"Right away, Mas..."

BOOM.

"...ter," the droid finished his sentence, even as the incoming vehicle was shot out of the sky. "Shit."

Well, there went escape route aurek. He didn't waste time dwelling on the direness of the situation, however, using the explosion of his vehicle almost as cover as he made a run for it. He couldn't allow even more firepower to converge on the spot. An impossible dodge to the left avoided a fatal shot, the man traversing more distance in a single step than he had any right to, but as he neared the door, there was nowhere left to evade. He had to counter the next one. He turned, hand outstretched, giving himself to the Force to sense the projectile. He had but a split second, and with so many snipers trained on him, he didn't have the luxury of predicting where it would come from and stopping the thing mid-air. Instead, he opted for deflection.

The bullet, larger than his hand, barely grazed his left shoulder and blasted a hole in the ground behind him. It was enough to sent him careening to the ground, but he adapted, rolling on the ground with his own momentum, his armour doing its job. Without skipping a beat, he moved further inside, finding safety. It hurt, to be sure. A lot. But he was alive to continue fighting,

He took the moment's respite to check over the spot, kneeling behind cover: he wasn't taking any chances. Thankfully, the damage had been relatively minimal, even if his jacket had been nastily shredded and his armor damaged. He'd have a nasty bruise soon enough. But it was better than the hole he'd have had it made direct impact.

"...E chu ta," he growled in displeasure. "I love this jacket."

"As much as you love your physical integrity?" the droid queried.

"Only a little more," the man argued, unable to help a small smirk, rolling his shoulder to ensure its mobility wasn't compromised.

"I'm sure you'll have time to mope over your aesthetic sensibilities later, Master. And Bogan willing, you'll get your chance to impart some very painful and ignoble deaths to your assailants down the line, but right now, let's focus on getting you out of here alive, shall we?"

"When you're right, you're right," he conceded. "Still. These aren't your average crooks. These are Jedi killers," he grumbled. Even if Runik was well known for his anti-Jedi propaganda, this felt like a bit much.

"Looks like they can kill Sith just fine, too," the droid observed.

"Hrm," Temerant grunted, unable to argue with the fact. "They must have the place surrounded. Going high is suicide," he mused, then let out a gruff exhale. "Scrap our alternative routes, we're going to have to improvise. I need to head to ground. Fast... Find me a garbage chute, X3," the man commanded.

"At once, Master," the droid got to work: surely, he'd have time to make plenty of puns later on.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

The gunfire did what her senses could not.

Weeding out Temerant’s position, her sense of caution grew alongside a shower of bullets. Yeah- Runik somehow failed to mention that he had a full-fledged army on retainer. No wonder he'd been so dismissive of her, rhetoric aside- one Jedi Padawan was lousy in comparison to a militia.

Though more legal. Definitely more legal.

Edging a look from the balcony slotted above, all while gunfire concentrated down towards Temerant, the girl kept low- Scouting for the assailants as well as the best possible route to avoid them.

Like they would ever give her the opportunity.

With only a spike of adrenaline as warning, a bullet whizzed towards her, close enough to where she could feel the hair on the back of her neck sear away on impact. She flinched, a raw gash now sawed through her slave brand. A preferable outcome considering it would’ve been her spinal cord if she had so much as crawled an inch further. Ha- precog. Nice.

Without time to fully appreciate her stroke of luck, the girl receded, pressing her body flat against an inner wall. Ok, curveball. This was a tight position to be in, with men flanking her from every possible angle- but she could still weasel her way out of it right? Her hand felt against the nape of her neck, not surprised when her fingers returned bloodied. Ah- Feth my life.

In the next instant, her eyes dropped to the com secured on her wrist. Her options slim, but obvious in hindsight.

Kahlil.

She’d held out as long as she possibly could, but not ringing him up now would border on negligence rather than stubborn resolve on her part. As much as she wanted to prove she could handle herself…well the evidence was irrefutably not in her favor. To her infinite chagrin however, the com jammed. No doubt in thanks to interference on either Temerant or Runik’s part. Who the blame ultimately landed on didn't matter, both parties had her beyond the normal human capacity for exasperation.

Sinking lower, the girl braced against the wall, seething. She needed to make a dash to safety- somewhere secluded- and try to find a way to contact anyone who’d remotely be willing to help. Unlike Temerant she had no high-tech apparel shielding her position, so any movement on her part would be a shot in the dark. They’d simply tear through her.

But before she could so much as formulate a plan, her decision was made for her. From the balcony’s opening, a metallic disk came skidding to the floor beside her, blinking red.

“You’re shitting me.” Panic wracked her body, then nothing at all.

An explosion ripped through the building's side with an ugly vengeance. One that sent debris hailing down on Temerant along with someone else. Not that she was exactly conscious enough to bear witness to the free fall.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon ​

"X3, I needed an extraction route 3 seconds ago!" Temerant screamed as things intensified, the militants clearly having organized their efforts. And where the kark where the authorities?

"...ster! The...king ass...are...fering...our commu...."

TZZZZT

White noise. White noise wasn't good. The speeder may have alerted them to the fact he had a 'man' on the outside. He needed to move.

And so he did, only to sense the girl nearby. Hadn't he told her to go home? Bloody teenagers, never recognizing good advice when they saw it. Normally, under this amount of pressure and jacked on adrenaline, another force user might've missed her, but Temerant was no stranger to having the odds stacked against him. He'd been in far worse situations.

He hoped.

Alas, if she wanted to get killed, that was her problem. Who knew? Maybe she'd even provide him with the opening he needed to...

There it was again. That invisible hand taking a solid hold of his innards.

BOOM.

Thought gave way to instinct, the man deaf to his own growling as his ears rung despite the helmet's filters, the aftermath falling at him in the form of heavy projectiles. But he ignored them, finding himself leaping forth to wrap his arms around the girl, twisting his body to land back first before the pair rolled over the ground. There was no logic behind the act that he could discern or even dwell upon, just action, a primitive gut reaction, the man ending the roll on top, covering Capris' far less armoured and tinier form with his own.

A boulder hit his back, then another, before he gritted his teeth, letting out a snarl that accompanied an outward shockwave that pushed the remaining incoming debris far away from the two.

It took a moment for the anger that had ignited his violent response -and surely- further given confirmation as to their location- to subside, only for Temerant to blink, as he realized, almost with horror, what he'd done. Still, the chrono was ticking. He'd have time to beat himself up later, he needed to get out of there. He got off her and repositioned himself -hardly realizing he had hooked his hands under her armpits and was dragging her along to cover- before looking for a viable exit or distraction... Only for his gaze to fall back upon the Jedi. He removed one of his gloves, and checked her pulse.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LEAVE!

He dismissed the urgency inside his own mind, checking that she was breathing without difficulty after the fact.

YOU'RE RUNNING OUT OF TIME! THEY'RE CLOSING IN ON YOU!

She was. Good. Wait… Good?

He shook his head, getting it back in the game. A number of things were about to happen. He ran his head through the different scenarios, visualizing them in his mind at breakneck speeds. The odds were heavily stacked against him if he stayed and fight: even a prolific killer like himself would have trouble handling a unit that was clearly designed to put people like him down, and he'd come in for what was meant to be an easy assassination job: he hadn't come prepared for fellow trained killers.

But he could still get out if he didn't waste any more time. The girl's fate would be sealed, no doubt, but she should've listened when she had the chance. He took a step forth, getting ready to launch into a sprint. He didn't, instead taking another hesitant step forth.

"...Kark," he growled to himself.

He waited for the strike team to appear, his hands lifted up in the air.

"I surrender!" he declared loudly, even as the humiliation of saying it out loud ate at his insides.

"...Commander?!" One of the slugthower-toting militants looked to the man who seemed in charge, confused by this development.

"...Hands locked behind your head, you filthy forcer!" the commander shouted after the briefest moments of consideration. As Temerant had gambled, getting him alive was even better than getting him... well. Dead. "And get yourself flat on the fething ground, now! And if I so much as think you are trying one of your karking Jedi tricks I am putting a slug in your head, you hear me?!"

Hard not to. Full of indignation, Temerant followed the command, putting himself to the ground, even as he seethed inside.

Soon enough, both him and Capris had been thoroughly disarmed -not before slapping a pair of force supressing cuffs, locking their arms behind their backs- and were being extracted in a bloody hurry.

Temerant tried to focus on the positive. Firstly, at the very least this gave him a chance to learn who the kark these people were, and that information might prove far more useful than some ill-conceived plan to sow some disruption and eliminate a minor threat. Intel on a Coruscant based anti-force-sensitive task force, or funded militia, or whatever the Bogan they were was far more valuable to the Imperium.

And secondly... They were now taking the vornskr into their very own lair. They should've put that slug in his head when they had the chance: they were going to regret this development. Dearly.

***

​

"Are you looking at me, you bloody barve?!"

Once again, Temerant had a slugthrower pointed to his helm as the pair was shuttled off to some location. In fairness, the black helmet made it near impossible to discern where he was actually looking at, much as their own faces were covered behind their own tac helms, blue slits were their eyes should be. In reality, Temerant had merely shifted his head as he'd hear the sound of a large transport fly nearby, even as he mentally tried to map out the speed and direction of their trajectory to keep track of a -sense- of their general location. Their vessel was military grade, and designed to transport a good few troops... or prisoners.

He tilted his head towards the man. "Insecure," the Sith observed dryly. "You are taking me in, which means you have orders not to use your weapon unless I prove myself a danger. You can relax. I'm not stupid enough to try anything," he let him know. "The only danger you're in is me discerning whether your anxious bravado stems from deeply seated, unresolved parental issues or from your inability to perform in the sack to satisfactory standards. Though judging by how quick you were to snap at me, I'm willing to wager it's a mixture of both," the man concluded.

"What?" It took the gun-wielding fellow a moment to process the implications. "You karker!" he doubled down, pointing it again with even more 'emphasis'.

"Let it go, Rhiatt," his companion in keeping watch over him and the Jedi intervened. "He's just trying to get inside your head. By the time we're through with them, he'll be sorry he ever laid eyes upon us," he attempted to pacify him.

"Rhiatt. I'll remember that," Temerant commented in the most casual of fashions, which only made it sound like even more of a threat. "And you must be the level-headed partner. You're a professional. The pitch of your voice suggests you're older. More experienced, too wisened to let your emotions get the better of you. And yet, you've been playing with that pendant of yours every time you've gazed our way," he continued to cooly observe. "You may be professionals, but this is personal, isn't it?"

The older militant huffed gruffly. "Shut your mouth."

"Who was it?" Temerant continued. "A loved one, no doubt. Spouse? No, you would've worn some kind of band if that were the case. You're sentimental like that. And that's a small holo-projector, is it not?" he deduced, knowing tech when he saw it. "You look at whatever's recorded inside often. A child, then. Your boy? Little girl?"

The man was a professional. He didn't utter a word in response, but to the latter, his free hand closed into a fist.

"Little girl it is," Temerant gruffed bluntly. "Collateral, I'm assuming. That's the problem with war, isn't it? It's always the innocent who suffer most. And we Jedi are the worst, are we not? So high and mighty, but never accountable as we spout our hipocrisy to any who would hear it, and justify all the suffering we cause by dressing it under the veneer of the greater good..."

The fist was so tightly wound now the man's fingers nails were digging their way through the leather. "I said shut your mouth!"

"And you... You're a good soldier," Temerant continued anyway. "You were off fighting the 'good fight', hrm? You didn't even get to say goodbye... I would be ashamed, too."

"You son of a slorth!" the man finally exploded, moving to slam the butt of his slugthrower against his helm. Temerant allowed it to happen: the last thing he wanted was an actual confrontation inside their transport, and he was still wearing his helm, so he merely braced for him. Still, it shook his brain inside his skull pretty good, making him momentarily lose track of his spatial tracking. He would have to get checked for a mild concussion when this was over.

"Teehlo!" it was now his younger companion stopping him from issuing a second blow, the agressor becoming the pacifier this time around. Teehlo struggled a bit, but slowly relented. "We're almost there! It's like you said, he's just trying to get in our heads!"

There was a slam up front. "What the kark is going on back there?!"

Teehlo shouted back. "Nothing! Everything's good!" he reassured the voice up front, before turning to Temerant. "Not another word out of you," he warned in a quieter, yet still angry tone.

"Hrrrrn..." a low, guttural growl was uttered by the Sith as he reincorporated himself. "Teehlo," he uttered, but he wasn't addressing him: he was making note. Silence washed over the vehicle at that, as if he'd just been given a pair of blasters of his own and had them directly pressed to their temples.

His helm veered towards the pair. Teehlo was clearly still going through a lot of emotions, even if he had managed to reign them in, his left foot lightly tapping the speeder's floor as he warily kept his helm's slit trained on the Knight Inquisitor. Rhiatt, on the other hand, was deathly still, looking at Temerant in absolute silence. Likely, concerned he'd dig as deeply into his psyche as he had Teehlo's, given his initial assesment of the eager lad. They were wrong about one thing: he wasn't trying to get inside their heads.

He already was.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Her return to consciousness was not the steady trickle of a stream, but rather the whole dam.

Cold hard duracrete was the first string to tether her back to the waking world. Followed soon after by the soft warble of dialogue, then a poignant whack.

Oh.

Everything flooded back full swing, sparing her no detail. Runik- Temerant- Runik again- Snipers? And now a ship with no discernable direction. Oh, was right.

Bloodied, bruised, and all around beaten the girl still managed to suck in a breath, strained as it was. This was bad. Astronomically bad. Yet she did not dare to move, did not dare let anyone know she was awake. It was perhaps the only card she had to play.

That’s when the worst of all revelations struck her like a knee to the abdomen. The force was gone. Gone. The one constant in her life snuffed out. Now a collapsed bridge.

Like a rapid animal, panic took full and unrelenting control of her mind, her thoughts free to catastrophize to the very extent of human imagination. She’d been cut off. She’dbeencutoff. Panic clawed for escape. A scream- a sob- anything tangible, but she wouldn’t grant it permission. Not here, not now. God not now. As much as she wanted to slam her locked hands against the nearest surface- to pry this contraption off of her- to dent it- to mangle - to ruin. That would most certainly come at the expense of her hands.

And she needed those if she were to strangle Temerant later.

So instead of acting on every synapse-firing impulse that came her way she fought them down violently. Eyes still shut to the world. To Temerant. To Rhiatt and Teelon. To the gravity of her situation.

Still Temerant knew how to draw attention to himself

She listened like a corpse would as he teased out strands of each man’s sanity. Even in her panic swept mind, she recognized his technique, the simple genius of it. The way he squeezed into their minds all while she sat by, frankly helpless. At least it kept eyes off her.

It was then, in her carefully sustained comatose, she was allowed a flare of curiosity.

So these men.. Were they estranged Alliance soldiers? Their grudges ran deep, at least by Temerant’s frank assessment. In hindsight it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. Relations between Jedi and their military body was.. Tense. Hell even the ones she’s worked alongside had their reservations. Xenophobia was a viral disease. Like it had been on Xe Fal- on Yag-Dhul.

Had these men worked under Jedi Generals before? She tried to envision it, the faces of her own men levying blasters her way on the flip of a coin. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch of the imagination. The puzzle pieces were there to assemble. The fleeting glances, the way some tensed if she so much as breathed in their direction. They’d only ever shown respect her way, but she couldn’t help and wonder how much of it was forced. How much quiet resentment went undetected.

They had a right to that acrimony. Outranked by a kid who had no right to be there- who only halved their experience and knowledge- who could very easily lead them to their deaths all because she thought of herself as some living god. Untouchable.

Somewhere in the depth of her musings they’d arrived at their locale. She could pretend no longer.

—--​

The compound was sterile, nondescript, and all around bleak. Not that she particularly cared about its choice of interior design. The girl kept deathly silent the entire journey to their cell block. Not given the opportunity to freely commentate what with Rhiatt and Teehlo prodding them forward like cattle, blasters trained on their backs, unrelenting.

They also didn’t fare much better in the cell they were subsequently stuffed in. Chained and discarded. Without a single moment’s rest, Teehlo seemed to address another man, one just out the cell’s field of vision. Not like that would prove to be an issue much longer.

The man rounded the corner to face the two force-sensitives fully in the next instant. But instead of regarding the pair with contempt as one might expect, the man grinned, a soft and deceivingly non-threatening countenance to him. His eyes fell to Capris. Naturally.

She’d be the first one to cave.

“Capris Halycon.”

Her stomach plummeted to farthest conceivable depths.

“Padawan of Jedi Master Kahlil Noble-” In little more than seven words, the man had dealt more damage than the very explosion she’d just woken from.

They’d profiled her? Of course they did. Runik would never stand having a Jedi breathe the same air as him. He no doubt required a background check the moment her name was muttered his way.

The man hardly let her thoughts stew however, continuing his somehow light-hearted speel with total ease “Haven’t been with the Order long by the look of it.” He noted with a hum of interest. “Newly apprenticed, appearances out on the warfront left and right. A lot to look forward to, hm?”

He then feigned sympathy.

“See, isn't that scary? Just how quickly they sink their claws in.” The man stooped to her level, tilting his head with a cruel kind of indifference. “Maybe that’s why you were assigned to this shit-show, all the easier to plead negligence.”

His ever present smile seemed to widen. “I’m sure you and I both know Jedi aren’t that sloppy.”

She stared back coldly. Her anonymity shot. Hopelessly so. Now Temerant could not only point her out in the crowd but know exactly who he was looking at. It was reason enough to squirm. To balk even. But she did neither of those things. More likely than not that particular concession of information would feth her over down the line, but for the time being she met the men’s gaze head on. As if to say yeah, that’s me. And what about it?

Those weren’t exactly the words she settled on.

“Do you always talk this much?”

The man blinked, the only hint towards a break in his composure. The lapse quickly re-sutured itself and he was left smiling that same small and premeditated smile. “Ah shame- already so uncompromising.” He then turned his attention towards Temerant, this time opting to stand. Unlike Capris, Temerant’s presence couldn't be imposed on. Any attempt at such would be humiliating.

“You.” The man began, arms clasped behind his back. “You’re tricky.’

Dismissive of his words, the man simply shrugged. “One way or another we’ll unmask you. Trust me when I say that. I tend to keep my promises.” While his cadence could be mistaken for polite conversation, there was an undeniable depth to that last statement in particular.

“So how about you save us all the headache. Who are you?”

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant's body language was much too relaxed, as if he'd been invited to take a tour and was just tagging along for the ride. In fact, by the time they'd reached the cell, he hadn't even needed a prompt to take a seat, the man certainly seeming to know the drill, going with the motions. The Sith was practically lounging, adopting a comfortable position, his stance wide. He idly watched their commander drill the kid. Capris Halcyon, Padawan to Kahlil Noble. He archived their names in the confines of his mind... So that was her name. And she was a little war-monger, too. Good. He could use a fighter for what was to come.

He couldn't help but snort a grunt to her blunt query. A fighter indeed. He resisted the urge to nod faintly to himself, their interrogator's attention soon falling upon him.

Who was he? It was a good question. One that many asked. And yet, few ever got any kind of straight answer. Rhiatt, however, had naturally tensed as the Sith was addressed, keeping a very close eye on him.

"Why not just take a gander for yourself?" he asked, feigning a puzzled tone.

The commander opened his mouth to respond, but Rhiatt was already on the move, quite possibly eager to level the playing field after their previous encounter now that his 'opponent' was in a cell and he had the full support of his commander. Clearly, part of the man's meaning had been lost on him, as he moved to attempt to do just that.

Several voices sprung at the same time.

"Let's see how much of a smart-ass you are when..."

"No, you idiot!"

"Rhiatt, wait!"

Zap.

An electric discharge was shot through Rhiatt's body as he attempted to find a gap in the man's helm, the young soldier briefly and violently convulsing in place before flying away several feet after a loud crackle.

A series of grunts then escaped Temerant as his shoulders rose and fell in a rhythm. He seemed to be laughing, and it was definitely not the most pleasant of sounds, his amusement gruff and dark. "Hrn, hrn, hrn... Not the sharpest tool in the shed, is he?" he pointed out, his mind games already paying dividends. "You know... For a man who criticizes the Jedi for their use of the young ones, you certainly don't shy away from it, do you? Easier to mold, these fletchling minds. So eager to latch to a cause, to prove their worth..." he taunted. "You're just as much of a fanatic and a hypocrite as any Jedi."

All semblance of sympathy was gone from the Commander's face. "Tricky," he repeated, albeit with far more contempt. Still, he was a worthy opponent, not falling for his bait that easily. "You're not a Jedi, then..." he inferred. Two could play at that game.

However, Temerant largely ignored him, his attention focused on Rhiatt and the concerned Teehlo looming over him. "That was enough voltage to stop his heart. You can still save him, but I suggest you rush him to your medbay. And be fast, Teehlo. You may have not been able to be there for your little girl, but you can still save the lad."

"You son of a..." Teehlo grunted under his breath, Temerant's words cutting deep. "Commander?"

"Tick, tock, tick, tock," Temerant grunted in quick succesion.

The man in charge furrowed his nose, but gave him a curt nod, prompting Teehlo to grab his partner and usher him off in a hurry.

"Now where were we..." Temerant did not skip a beat. Control had been established, and he had little intent of returning it. "Ah, yes. Who am I? Well, no, I'm not a Jedi. At least not anymore. The Order kind of takes issue when you go around cutting Senators down. I guess it all boils down to who you ask," he continued. "A rogue. A villain. A darksider some would say, that is for certain. Though your mother calls me daddy. So I suppose that makes me your grandaddy," he suggested. There was a stark contrast between his black humour and the blunt gravity of his tone. "Which you would think is the nicest one in the list, and yet, I am terribly disappointed in you. Tut, tut."

"Save it," the Commander spat, clearly having enough of him. "I see now that we're not going to get anywhere the easy way. Don't say I did not offer. The hard way it is," he remarked. "And just so you know... You did us a big favour. Runik's death only justifies our beliefs, and now, it shall spread like a wild fire. Our numbers will swell like never before," he let him know. There was no point in concealing their motives anymore.

"That's nice," Temerant nodded sagely. "Do you think they'll give you a discount in printed shirts if you buy them in bulk? Picture it. 'I hate the Jedi,' in bold capital letters across the chest. You're going to make a lot of opportunistic merchants very happy."

X3 would be proud.

However, it was the Commander's turn to ignore him as he touched his earpiece. "Bring in the Butcher. And tell him to bring his laser cutters. He has a barve to cut out of its suit," he remarked dryly. "Good. ETA?" A pause. A slight flinch of his nose. Good. They had time. "Tell him I want him here in half that time."

"The Butcher. How original," Temerant mused.

"Laugh it up all you want," the man responded. "But the Butcher knows ways in which to hurt people that would make the most vile of Sith scum blush. And amongst us all, he has a real stone to grind with you filthy forcers. He is going to love you. And by the time he's through with you, you'll be begging to tell us everything. From who sent you, to what age you were when you stopped pissing your bed."

Temerant tilted his head slightly, before leaning forward in his chair, to better get his point across. "Do I strike you as a man who's afraid of pain?" he asked, though there was no doubt that the question was a rhetorical one. It was like he was a different person, all measure of levity gone as he adopted a growling, deadpan tone.

The Commander paused at this. "No. Perhaps not," he conceded. Then gave him a wolfish grin, full of teeth and vileness in stark contrast to the one offered when he'd entered the cell. "Which is why we'll start with her... and make you watch."

Temerant quirked a brow. "So?" he asked bluntly. "I don't give a kark what happens to her."

"Oh, really?" his interlocutor jumped at the chance, as if he'd been waiting for it. "Is that why you risked your life to save hers, then surrendered to our forces?"

There was a moment's hesitation. "I surrendered because I was surrounded and outgunned. I don't know what the feth you're on about."

"Is that so?" the man moved to his holodeck, tapping it a few times before a holo-projection appeared from his forearm. Whilst the image was blurry and distant, and smoke made it difficult to make out, Temerant could still be made out leaping for Capris, only to subsequently protect her from the aftermath of the explosion, subsequently dragging her behind cover. Most likely taken by an in-built body-cam.

Shit.

Temerant hated it when his own tactics were used against him. He scrambled for a comeback, and failed to find an appropriate one before the commander interceded anew.

"I told you I keep my promises," he reminded him. "You'll talk."

With that, he exited the cell, igniting the energy shield that would contain them inside.

Temerant was seething, having fallen prey to his own stupidity. If it weren't for the girl, this would've never have happened to begin with. Not to mention he'd been arrogant, over-confident in his own abilities. He'd underestimated the importance of this mission. And more importantly, he'd likely been set up for failure by someone back home. This would not go unanswered.

But first, he needed to survive it. As soon as the man was out of sight, he stood up, all semblance of relaxation evaporating as he approached the field, having a look at the space outside, spotting the camera trained on the cell soon enough.

"Get your shit together," he grumbled as he continued his inspection. "I'm going to need your help if we're going to make it out of this."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

The near perpetual grimace stamped on her face only deepened as Rhiatt was pulled from the room. While marginally her and Temerant were on the same side, it would be a lie to say she felt any safer. The man was a cruel kind of predictable.

Unlike her however, the commander remained undeterred, simply doubling down on his effort to pry whatever he could. She almost laughed. They weren't going to squeeze anything out of the prison-hardened inquisitor. Idiots. If the situation had been any different, she would've found his circular logic boring. The commander seemed to realize this as well, dishing out a new threat that both her and Temerant alike met with the same deadpan expression. As fethed as she was, it was easy to derive some small pleasure from seeing their interrogator fail so miserably.

He doesn't give a kark what happens to me

"I don't give a kark what happens to her."

Ha- exactly, she was getting good at this.

But the flinty, nearly smug grin that itched the corners of her mouth soon caved, irises reflecting the blue hologram presented to them in low-resolution.

What.

Blinking the surprise from her face, one word strangled itself free, demanding itself to be answered. Why.

Why had he saved her? Why had he strayed so far off the beaten path of Sith doctrine to help a Jedi of all people? Her gaze couldn't help but switch to Temerant a moment before retreating to the Commander. As much as she may have wanted to, it didn't seem like the time to push on that specific development. He'd deflect anyway. She knew his type, closed off- annoyingly aloof. A personal testament if anything.

And so was the anger now rolling off the man as they were left to their own devices.

"My shit's doing just fine. Try taking your own advice." The snark was reflexive, only backed with a slight twinge of guilt when she heard the words for herself. She should say thank you right? That's what any normal person who was just saved from a near death experience would do. It seemed almost obligatory.

No

It wouldn't mean anything to him. If anything he'd openly cringe at the words. They both would. So she settled on something far more comfortable.

"Is psychologically unraveling grown men a hobby of yours or something?” It was with a huff of pained amusement the girl struggled to her feet. Every part of her hurt. Bad. The gash on her neck now dampened her hair with enough blood to make her woozy. She was quick to bury her pain however, stealing her nerve ever so slightly. God forbid she came off as weak. Especially to him.

That revelation in specific nearly whizzed straight over her head. Wait. What?

At first she pinned that childish desire on pride, but that wasn't it was it? Why did she care what he thought of her? Of her competency? Her hands flexed against the cuffs binding them, stifling the stream of thoughts.

There is no emotion, only the force.

Maybe that specific proverb wasn't applicable in their case, but the words had their intended effect. She'd need a clear head if they were to survive this.

Uh- correction if she was to survive this. Feth Temerant.

The girl moved to peer out the energy field as Temerant had done, though at a respectable distance. Ah surveillance. Great. "We need that camera off us." She commented, having no way of knowing the inquisitor had already set his sights on the device. Her eyes then proceeded to skip their surroundings with a heavy shroud of calculation. "There's nothing to jack the energy shield with, so what? We ambush them?"

He was sitting on a plan, she knew it. So as much as it begrudged her, her eyes flitted to the man for guidance.

 

[Darth Temerant]

Tags: Capris Halcyon
​

The Sith seemed largely unphased by the snark coming from her, focused as he was on his task, his helm subtly moving to the ceiling in search of something, before letting out a pensive grunt.

His attention did move towards her, however, as she stood. She put on a brave front, but she was hurting, that much was clear. And unsurprising, all things considered. Still, he did not bother dwelling on that beyond her utility. If she'd left when she'd had the chance, she likely wouldn't be in this mess.

Or maybe she'd have a slug in her head. And in fairness, he was somewhat responsible for her predicament.

He shook his head in the faintest of fashions, dispelling such thoughts. She was a nuisance. A Jedi nuisance at that. But right now... He very much needed her.

To his surprise, she was soon joining him, and hitting the right beats, in terms of how he intended to proceed. She had a good head on her shoulders. Good. They would need it.

"Escaped from many cells before?" he asked her, though he had been nodding to her observations, the man stepping away from the shield, almost casual in his gait. "Yes. The camera is going to be an issue. If we had more time, we might be capable of finding a way to deviate it," he mused as he moved off to the wall closest to the camera. The frame of the energy shield provided some cover in that particular spot, it seemed. "But since I do not think either of us is particularly keen on meeting this Butcher fellow, we are going to have to think fast on our feet. Ambush it is," he noted.

"I am going to 'disappear'," he let her know, a sense of authority in his gruff tones as he continued. Clearly, the man was no stranger to ordering others around. "You are going to try to get the camera's attention. Bounce around, scream at it, put on a bit of a show. See that pipe up there?" he pointed motioned with his jaw to the ceiling.

Bleak had been an accurate assesment of the place. This was no high end prison, but likely a safehouse, from what they could gather on their way in: a small complex to house their little terrorist cell. A thick pipe ran exposed, clearly part of the building's plumbling, judging by how it ran along the edges of the ceiling and made a dive for a crude toilet which was sorely neglected, much like the rest of the cell.

"I'm going to get myself up there. When they arrive, they will ask where I am. Tell them you don't know. That I said I was sorry and just... walked through a wall or something. It doesn't really matter. In all likelihood they will not believe whatever you say, but we are force users, and they're afraid of what we can do, even with these shackles. Their doubt will play to our advantage. They will point their weapons at you and tell you to move to a corner. Do so, but indicate to me how many there are clearly, and their positions if you can. Hopefully they'll leave the cameras unattended, buying as some time. Judging by what we've seen, I doubt there's more than six or seven of them in the building. Ten, at most, and that's stretching it, if they want to remain anonymous," he surmised. "Not to mention they'll likely be distracted by Rhiatt's condition, and patting themselves on the back for capturing us. You can nod your head towards as many people as there are when they tell you to, or whatever else feels natural at the time," he recommended, a measure of trust in her abilities seemingly placed.

With that, the man jumped high in the air, knees tugging close to his chest as he brought his arms under and over in a display of acrobatic athletism. Whoever he was, it seemed he did not leave his luck in the hands of the Force.

"If you can't do that, I'll teach you how once I've taken care of them. You can do it on your arse," he explained. "Not as dignified, but it gets the job done, and with your physique you shouldn't have too much trouble... I could get us out of these shackles with enough time, but I'd much rather we get them off fast. Teehlo cuffed us, so he is our best bet. We'll head to the medbay first. Then, we get our sabers, and once I have what I need from this place, we get the kark out of here," he concluded.

"And for the record. It's not just grown men," he let her know. "I do it with women too," he declared. "I don't discriminate when I'm messing with people's heads."

He leaned back against the wall, canting his head slightly towards the girl. "Questions?" he asked. "Be quick about it though. The faster we do this, the more off-guard we'll catch them, and time isn't exactly our friend right now...

​

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant

​

"Escaped from many cells before?"

"This would be a first."

The girl crossed her arms, seemingly more engaged with the shield than the man beside her. A definite, perhaps obvious lie. He'd undoubtedly be able to pick up on the ever cautious look hedging her peripherals. Still, as he outlined his plan Capris listened, her mouth a thin line searching for the faintest whiff of deception. Instinct told her not to go through with this- To not place her life so carelessly in the hands of a sith. But what other option did she have? This was quite possibly the only course of action where her odds didn't egregiously suck.

She could hate herself for it later. Distrust offset by necessity, her arms unfolded and she offered an almost reserved nod his way.

"Alright."

It was not, in fact, alright, but she moved anyway, inclining her head to the ceiling as if to say go right ahead. In that manner, the deal was hermetically sealed. Capris now a voluntary lamb to the slaughter.

"Don't- " the girl paused a moment as she turned away from the camera, weighing the next words carefully.

"-Don't kill them." Her gaze, however conflicted, remained brazen as she pinned Temerant with the notion. Three words weren't going to unravel years of Sith conditioning, but she nonetheless voiced them. To be snarled at, laughed at, dismissed. Whatever he saw fit. To her, they couldn't have gone unsaid.

With that, she turned back to the energy shield, allowing Temerant ample time to shove himself out of sight before she rammed a shoulder forward. Of course it held- and of course it sent a ripple of pain down her arm, but she kept it up. Up until she earned the attention she was after.

"Karking hell, have you lost your damn mind-" The commander froze, annoyance turned to horror upon rounding the corner, clearly having hurried back from whatever he'd been organizing. Just as Temerant predicted, a gun was levied her way before any possible objection could be voiced, the energy shield disintegrating "Where is he-" The man's words were more of a growl than a sentence. He was no idiot, he knew exactly what was at stake.

The girl blinked at him a moment. One might have read it for confusion, but the way in which her eyes darted to the four men flanking either side of the commander it was clear she was simply getting a read.

It was then her gaze returned to the commander's with a dismissive shrug.

"Why don't you ask your mom-"

Immediately a steeled-toed boot floored her, forcing out a wheeze on impact. God- he was insecure. As hysterical as she might've found his reaction, the metal barrel quickly pressed against her forehead was objectively less so. Her stomach tightened ever so slightly in response

There is no emotion. There is the force. There is no emotion. There is the force.

She tapped a foot from where she was kneeled on the duracrete- three on the left, one on the right.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

There was no snark, or disregard to the teenager's request. In truth, the Sith had half expected it to come.

"...That is not something I can promise," he simply replied instead. "Not if we're to make it out of here alive. But I think you knew that already," he gruffed. "The Jedi sanction you to kill during your war operations, do they not?" he pointed out then. "Think of this as the same thing. Because we very much are at war."

With that, the man used the shield generator's frame as cover as he turned, before leaping against the wall, using it as a platform to reach the pipe. He grunted, the shackles impeding him the range of motion that would've been ideal for such a task, but nevertheless, his grip was trained to hold his own weight comfortably, and then some. With another grunt, the man tensed his core in order to pull the rest of his mass up in a practiced move until his body was parallel to the ceiling, hooking his legs over the pipe. Once he was certain it wouldn't collapse under his considerable weight, well bolted as it was, he began to shimmy towards a more centered position in the room.

In position, he held in wait for Capris to do her part - and that she did. Soon enough, the Commander had her on the ground at gunpoint. Not your standard procedure, he mused, but he did not let it distract him from the girl's indications. He let a moment pass. Then another... And then they came into sight. The fight played out in his mind in the span of a breath, each move premeditated even as he let go off the pipe. It was a skill he practiced daily, visualization, and no matter how impressive his kill count, it would always pale before the thousands more that perished within his mind's eye.

His shackled arms hooked over the head of the middle man in the left group. Temerant had identified a weakness in their armour during their trip, their necks enjoying less protection than the rest of them: doubly true when they didn't wear their helmets. He pulled, choking the man, and even as he did a powerful, straight kick shot to the side of the man on his left's neck. His head jerked unnaturally towards the foot as a crunch filled the air, and if that weren't enough, the kick was delivered with such power it sent him slamming against the wall, only to fall limp.

Temerant did not skip a beat, practically jumping off his right foot as he collected his left, knee rising, only to fall in an oblique kick towards the side of the woman to his right's knee before she and the fellow beyond could fully react. There was a crack, which immediately preceded a scream as her leg buckled under her own weight.

The Sith forced the man in his grip to turn sideways then, before releasing him: just in time for his body to intercept the barrage of blaster shots sent his way. His hands dove for the human shield's sidearm, which proceed to slump over him before falling to the ground. It had not yet hit it before two shots were fired in rapid succession: one high, towards the shooter's head, the other low, putting a stop to the woman's cries as she suffered the same fate.

It was over in a matter of seconds. But of course... It wasn't truly over, was it?

He turned to train the weapon on the Commander... only to find a searing heat running through him. At this range, even his suit struggled to deal with armor piercing rounds, the first shot damaging it, whilst the second moved straight through him, at the height of his shoulder. He wasn't sure if that was by design, or whether he'd instincitvely tried to move out of the way after the first impact. One way or another, he'd been lucky. Or as lucky as a man can be when he has a hole in him. Whatever blaspheming the Commander issued, he missed it entirely, his mind needing a moment to process what had just happened.

Capris, he tried to call. He needed her to jump into action, but no words came out, his mind coming back up to speed before his body could. Temerant knew unless something happened, the next shot would put an end to him.