Private Shooting for the Stars

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Outdoor Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

The night was old and dying.

Not long after arriving on Dallenor, Sisserith had begun to feel exhausted and achingly lonely. The Seseli was growing more homesick by the day, feeling like a foreigner in a galaxy that she didn’t understand at the best of times and outright hated at the worst. More than once, the Sithspawn had mulled over the possibility of living within civilized society, working a normal job, following the law, and in general, being a productive citizen. However, it was difficult to start down that path when her most marketable skill was killing. Not to mention, given her diminutive stature, she wasn’t exactly an attractive hire for most menial jobs and there was also the fact that she was a Sithspawn. People like her were usually enslaved by warlords or hunted for sport by Light Side fanatics. Fearing either of those fates, Sisserith kept on the move when she could, refusing to stay in one place for too long, keeping an eye on her back, and staying sharp.

And that meant keeping her skills up.

Having located an abandoned outdoor shooting range outside of Palomeno, a small town far from any dense, urban civilization, during an exercise run the day before, Sisserith had decided to make a day out of the range. Returning at first light the next day, the diminutive Seseli was tailed by an autonomous repulsor sled with supplies, a few weapons, power cells, and slugthrower ammunition strapped onto the bed.

However, she hadn’t expected to find someone else at the range.

The diminutive Sithspawn lingered at the edge of the range for a few moments before approaching, wary in the event that the man proved dangerous. Fortunately, she had a pistol hidden under her jacket, which she could use if it came to it. However, seeing how well he could shoot after watching him bullseye two of the furthest targets, Sisserith sensed that outshooting him might be beyond her, no matter what weapon she had.

“Nice shot.”

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen aimed down his sights at the empty beer bottle hanging downrange with his verpine sidearm. He had come to Palomeno to make a trade deal with the city's mayor (which was successful) but stayed for the shooting range. His trigger finger had become itchy and he needed to solve that problem before it caused bigger problems.

Closing his eyes, he opened the channel of the force inside of him, letting him aim his way directly to the bottle in his mind. Now all he had to do was squeeze the trigger slowly so he didn't pull his shot and... As he opened his eyes, all he saw was the shattered stem of the bottle hanging limply above the ground and glass scattered all over it. It also looked like someone else had noticed his shooting as well.

Turning to his left, he saw a... uncommon sight to say the least. Or it was just all the small goth girls hid in some corner of the galaxy away from his eyes. Either way, he didn't mind the company. "Nearly anyone can do it given enough time. I just have more time on my hands than most. I'm Omen by the way. What's your name if it isn't too impolite for me to ask."

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

"Nearly anyone can do it given enough time. I just have more time on my hands than most. I'm Omen by the way. What's your name if it isn't too impolite for me to ask."

“Sometimes…I doubt that.” Sisserith answered in a resigned, exhausted tone as she took a seat on a nearby bench, her legs aching with a moderate degree of soreness from her run, the sweat glistening on her forehead serving as a mark of her exhaustion. “Sorry for my mood. I came up on this place yesterday afternoon during my run and thought I would be alone, since it looked deserted. I guess it’s not quite as abandoned as I thought.” She continued. “Last few days have been a bit rough, but I’m trying to keep a routine…I guess.” With a deep breath, Sisserith tapped the OmniLink on her wrist and summoned her repulsor sled to her side. Then, after rummaging through the contents of a box strapped onto it, the Seseli fished out a bag of bantha jerky, along with a can of Cozmic Max Vanilla.

“I’m Sisserith.” The Sithspawn introduced herself. “Oh! Want some jerky?” She extended her left hand with the bag in its grasp, offering to share her food with the man. However, upon seeing his face, Sisserith frowned, features marked with curiosity. Had she seen this man before?

“I feel like…I’ve seen your face before.” She added. “I can’t put where but…gahh, maybe my mind is just playing tricks on me.” She sighed, before opening the can of Cozmic Vanilla and taking a sip of the sugar-laden soft drink.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen followed her lead, sitting down on the other end of the bench. "I'm serious. Maybe there is a glass ceiling but I've been beaten by non-forceusers before. Nothing is impossible." The Clone frowned when the tiny woman shared her woes, kicking up the dirt off the ground as he tried not to feel guilty for disrupting her favorite spot. "I just was lucky to find this place on my walk. I'm sorry if I ruined it for you... If it makes you feel any better, I didn't think weird makeup, horns, and jogging gear went together but you've proven me wrong."

The Clone nodded thankfully as he took a strip of jerky and started to chew it slowly, savoring its flavor. "Seems like you have given me a new favorite snack. Thanks for that." He handed her a slice of Joganfruit Haarsun bread from a bag on his hip. "Here, now it is a fair trade."

He quirked an eyebrow as he saw the Goth Woman scan him over with her eyes. Oh god, it was so hard not to laugh. At least she somewhat recognized his kind though. Most others didn't seem to bother. Though he did have a hard time trying to hold back the laughter as she pondered where she had seen him before. "Maybe you've seen me on a billboard advertising my shipping business or maybe you've seen me in history books. There were millions of me after all."

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

"I just was lucky to find this place on my walk. I'm sorry if I ruined it for you... If it makes you feel any better, I didn't think weird makeup, horns, and jogging gear went together but you've proven me wrong."

Against the Sithspawn’s alabaster skin, the effect of Omen’s words was violent and immediate. A flood of crimson blush welled up in her features with such intensity that it could have been mistaken for a severe illness or episode of some allergy. Unconsciously stroking the towering horns on top of her head, which she kept maintained through no small amount of effort, Sisserith gave a soft smile, uncharacteristic of a bloodthirsty, impish Sithspawn, yet was firmly in line with her disposition at that moment.

“Oh well, it’s just…workout clothes. Sweaty." Sisserith giggled, feeling oddly charmed by Omen’s presence. “And you haven't ruined it for me. It's nice to have company. Maybe you can teach me how to shoot better.” The Seseli said with a coy wink, before accepting the offered Jogan fruit from the clone’s hand as she did. Curiosity outweighing caution, she peeled off the purple skin and immediately took a bite, the orange juices leaving a sweet tang on her tongue.

“I’ve…actually never seen this…variety of fruit before.” Sisserith said, in between bites. “What is it called?” It might have seemed like an odd question given how common the fruit was, but having been born in a satellite galaxy, the tiny Seseli was learning and experiencing new things almost every day, at this point.

"Maybe you've seen me on a billboard advertising my shipping business or maybe you've seen me in history books. There were millions of me after all."

“Unfortunately, I'm not well-versed in history. Don't think I've ever picked up a history book before.” Sisserith sighed. “But, it sounds like…you’re a clone? Are you the last of a certain line? That…might explain it, but….I know for a fact that I didn’t see your face in a history book or a billboard.” She paused, her features scrunched in thought as she wracked her memory.

“The clone that I saw…he was…in a nightclub, I don’t know which club or what exact planet it was on but…he looked just like you. Do you know how many clones of your line are left?”

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Well, this interaction was getting interesting. The clone was surprised that the small imps face lit up like small stop sign. Usually people dismissed his compliments but she took them like a champ. Maybe... No, better not to hope. Besides, what about Aren... What if they reconncted? Either way, he had to shove love to the back of his mind as he responded. "Sweaty looks good on you then. Its just the truth. As for teaching you to shoot I could give it a try."

If she looked cute when sweaty, she looked down right precious devouring the Jogan fruit. "Its called Jogan fruit and its from Lothal." Omen nodded, as if expecting that the imp not to have picked up a book in her life. She didn't exactly seem like a researching. "As far as I know I'm the last of my line though that could always change. You probably saw a newer creations bobbling around. I know the Enclave's has the cloning tech to make some as much as I hate it..."

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

Sisserith covered her mouth with girlish embarrassment at the compliment. It went without saying that the tiny Seseli was beginning to enjoy Omen’s company, since the clone had immediately lifted the sour mood she had been mired in only minutes before. Feeling peckish, the Sithspawn took a few more bites of the fruit, which were more mischievous and aggressive in nature than her last, if the sweet-tasting juices running down her chin were any indication. From there, Sisserith quickly finished off the last of the Jogan with a ravenous fury, before wiping away the residue from her chin and flashing Omen a delighted smile.

“Jogans are going on my shopping list, next time.” The Seseli said, quickly stretching her arms over her head as she did. “And Lothal? I guess I need to pay it a visit.” She mused.

"As far as I know I'm the last of my line though that could always change. You probably saw a newer creations bobbling around. I know the Enclave's has the cloning tech to make some as much as I hate it..."

“You’re the last? When was your line of clones created?” Sisserith asked with an innocent curiosity in her tone, before taking a bite of bantha jerky.

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Well, at least he had made someone's day. The way she devoured that Jogan fruit made him fearful of anyone that got on her bad side. "It is a nice place with orchards aplenty plus probably some sith cults in there somewhere since it was in the core of their territory after all. Overall, it's pretty alright."

Taking a sack from his belt, he would take some breadcrumbs out on the ground. Soon enough, the birds that had been scared off by his shot had smelt the food and come back with forks and knives in hand. "Oh about 800 years ago..." The Clone held out a finger, using his force sense to coax on of the birds onto his finger. "I've been the only one that's an original. Or at least the only one from what I've seen. Could be someone rattling around out there undercover. Never say never... Though I wouldn't wish my extensive on anyone. It can be... rather lonely to be the only one of your family left. But I bet you already know that, don't you?"

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

Sisserith blinked.

“800 years ago?! Wait, humans don’t live that long! Or are you from a longer-lived Near-Human species?” The Sithspawn replied. While Sisserith’s species could live in excess of 5000 years—though virtually all tended to die within their first year of life, due to violence—she knew that humans were much shorter-lived, in spite of the fact that on average, they tended to live longer than Seseli. “How are you…alive?” She asked, her eyes staring at the seemingly ancient clone with no shortage of awe, as she did.

However, his next question was as if her heart had been ripped from her chest.

"It can be... rather lonely to be the only one of your family left. But I bet you already know that, don't you?"

“I-I…” Sisserith frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose, a singular tear rolling down her left cheek which was quickly wiped away. “H-how would you know that?” She asked. “I’m not…exactly alone, more just…stuck in a place where my family isn’t.” The Sithspawn said softly.

“They might have already forgotten about me.”

 

[Sergeant Omen]

"Nope, I got lucky and got freeze-dried. Thankfully there were no errors in the carboite freezing or we wouldn't be talking." With one gentle push, the bird that had been sitting on his finger took off, only leaving a couple of loose feathers in his wake.

Omen wondered if he had made a mistake mentioning it. It was a good guess at least. "Well, you seem like more of a social person, and social people are usually in social groups. Just was a good guess." He gently put a hand on her diminutive shoulder as she explained her being separated from her family. "They haven't forgotten about you. If they did, they wouldn't be your family. Do you know where they could be?"

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

Sisserith watched with a blank gaze as the birds ate from the breadcrumbs on the ground, before taking off a few moments later. All the while, the Seseli listened to the clone with no shortage of curiosity as he told her of his origins, which in a way mirrored her own, in the sense that while Sisserith was separated from her family by place, Omen was separated by time. Of those two barriers, only one was possible to traverse. Suddenly, Sisserith felt very selfish for making a big deal out of her own plight, where for Omen, the possibility of ever seeing his family again was denied to him by the immutable laws of the universe.

“So you’re a…man out of time.” Sisserith said softly. “You’ll never see your family…your original family, again.” She continued. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do you cope with that? My family is in the satellite galaxy Forn on the world Margakh IV. I could still reunite with them but….I just need to find a way to get there. Intergalactic travel isn’t exactly easy or cheap.” The Seseli paused.

“But your family is…they’re no longer alive.”

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen shruged as the imp asked how he coped with being able to get back to his family. "Whining doesn't help anything. I can't build a time machine and cut to that time and even if I did, what would I do? Just fight a war with no winner again? Besides, I didn't really have a family back then anyways." Well except Bolt... until he dropped a building on him...

His soft smile returned as he tried to change the topic. "Is there anything I can do to get back to your family?"

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

Bloodthirsty, impish, and feral as her nature compelled her to be, Sisserith felt sympathy for the clone’s apparent loneliness. He was a man out of time, even though it seemed that he had found a comfortable place in this era, if his sociability and charm were any indication. Sensing his hand on her shoulder, the Seseli returned the clone’s smile with one of her own, displaying sharp canines as she placed her much smaller hand on top of his, her skin a pale alabaster compared to his light tan.

"Is there anything I can do to get back to your family?"

“I appreciate the offer but…” Sisserith paused. “The trip would be too expensive and it might take weeks if we’re lucky, and if not, maybe months or possibly years.” She continued. “Finding hyperspace lanes would be difficult and well…how would I repay you?”

Then, without warning, the tiny Sithspawn jumped into Omen’s lap with an athletic, feline grace, before wrapping her slender arms around his broad chest and giving him a tight intimate hug.

“But…I could ask a different favor.” She continued, with a soft, playful giggle. “Could you give me some pointers on marksmanship?” This was a clone trooper who had fought in a war that had taken place over 800 years ago. She could only guess at what wisdom he might be able to bestow upon her, especially when it came to the art of applying violence. It went without saying that this was an opportunity that she could not afford to waste!

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen would intertwine his fingers with hers as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. If someone had said his soulmate was a 3ft cannibal, he would have laughed his ass off but it looked an actual possibility now. "I'm sure your company would be payment enough. Plus we would have years to get to know each other. Plus you can eat me if the rations run out." The Clone tried to hide his frown as the Sithspawn jumped away from him before gently chuckling as Sis wrapped her arms around him like a child hugs a father. This... This might be something that he could roll with for the rest of his life, granted of course she didn't get thrown into EE prison like his last girl.

The Former Arc gave her a smirk as she asked for shooting tips. "Of course, but you have to let go of me first." He nodded to where her arms were pinning him to the bench. He could pick her up and move her out of the way but that wouldn't be polite, would it?

Sisserith

 

[Sisserith]

Location: Abandoned Desert Shooting Range, Outskirts of Palomeno - Dallenor
Time: Morning
Attire: Fitness Wear
Equipment: Repulsor Sled
Tag: Sergeant Omen

“Eat you? Oh Omen…I can eat anything.” The tiny Sithspawn let out a feral noise that was a mix between a purr and a growl. Indeed, it wasn’t a lie, as her species was capable of digesting raw meat due to strong stomachs and powerful immune systems. Sisserith had done it on more than one occasion, though she had never eaten the flesh of a sapient being.

As if to make her point, Sisserith glanced at one of the birds with a particularly predatory glint in her magenta eyes, before slinking down from Omen’s lap with a savage grace, before suddenly pouncing on the bird with vicious speed, catching the hapless creature in her grasp while the rest scrambled to take off, eager to avoid the predator in their midst.

“Ehh…too skinny.” Sisserith frowned, yet with a playful expression borne across her alabaster features as she examined her catch, before letting the avian fly off.

Then, moving to her repulsor sled, Sisserith picked out an SMG-01 from her box—which four other weapons inside, along with magazines and power cells—and slotted a 40 round stick magazine into the slot with practiced ease. From her handling of the weapon, it was clear that the Sithspawn was already quite familiar with firearms and blasters , in addition to being trained to respect their hazards, meaning that Omen might be able to skip over the raw basics.

“I’m ready!”

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen just shook his head with a chuckle, thinking what he was getting himself into with this feline alien as she crawled off his lap and leap forward, capturing the bird in her grasp. At least she didn't bite the songbird's head off and leave the carcass. That would both gross and maybe lead the townspeople to ask questions he didn't want to answer. "Well, you don't need any help in a brawl, that's for sure."

He chuckled at the small but deadly form prancing in front of him, ready for the lesson to begin. She had enthusiasm, he would give her that but enthusiasm only lasted as long as its owner wasn't straight up killed or worse enslaved. Standing upon his metal legs with a small grunt, the former ARC would walk over to the small being and gesture for her weapon. If she handed it over, he would check it over, making sure to eject the first round to make sure the breach was well cared for. "Hekler'Kok huh... Haven't had any of their firearms before but it seems well made. You've also taken great care of it which I can always admire. Take care of the weapon and it will take care of you as the saying goes. But you won't be using this today or at least for right now. I can't look at your good and bad habits if you're spraying all over the range now, can I?" He knelt down and grabbed the compact LPD-62 Firefist Pistol out of his ankle holster and handed it to her. "Never can go wrong with a Lucerne. It's only got 6 rounds but that should be enough to tell me where you're weaknesses lie. Now the effective range is 20 yards on this thing so we will probably be doing any long-range shooting with one of your weapons of choice. Now me what you can do against that tin-hanging target."

Sisserith