First Reply Sleeping on the Blacktop

[Soldane Talon]

Jutrand​

902 ABY​

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The 11th Sith Empire stood on the precipice of war, and the world of Jutrand seemed unperturbed by its casual balance on the edge of a draft. Ships flew in from the Terminus system to the west, and the various hyperlanes that fed trade back to their worlds. While the emperorship of Darth Empyrean had spurred the collective GDP of the worlds into a new era, the economy was so focused on military production for their endless conquests that domestic production had been stifled to almost nothing. It was self evident in the slums that covered the world, broken apart by opulent churches and heavily armed cartel casinos.​

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Soldane sat on the edge of a walkway's guard rail, letting his feet dangle over a thousand foot drop into the confines of a world crushed under the totalitarian boot heel of the Sith. In some areas of the planet, noble-adjacent gated communities lined with private security fed on the wealth produced by the labor hours of the rest of the world. Where the rest lived, however, was multi level mega complexes filled with crime and bounty hunters. The Empire had chosen to secure its world by greatly rewarding snitching and peasant militias instead of any real concept of a police force.​

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Only the Inquisition seemed to hold any presence in those dark voids. Soldane saw it, and frowned - he had read up on economic theory, on imperial rule, history of every sort, and here he saw something so machievellian he wasn't sure how to feel. On one hand, he understood that the system of religious zealotry and nationalism instilled into the population made it self governing, but on the other hand he saw this world as nothing more than a dog eat dog arena where bloodshed became the first answer. It was fitting, for the Sith, he supposed, but he still wasn't sure there wasn't something better to be done.

He had snuck out of his temporary apartment where Lunaria and Bedford remained. Bedford had become their temporary guardian on Jutrand, an agent of his haru Darth Carnifex . There was nothing wrong with the man, and Soldane was sure that under most instances he was very capable at his job - but Soldane didn't want to be watched and protected by an orbiting body guard. He wanted to see the world his father had conquered and rebuilt in his image.​

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So with hood over his head, he swung his legs back over the railing, and began to walk through the crowds to find something more interesting. Nobody gave him a second look - children wandering alone had become common in the lower districts. They were rarely robbed or noticed, as there was a highly reduced likelyhood they had any wealth at all. The second reason was that most were messengers of the cartels - and there was no one on this world dumb enough to make an enemy of the Cartels.​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

One day he might learn why exactly he found himself at peace walking through crowds like this. He had several theories, and despite what people imagined, he was far more comfortable being alone than with others, still, he was still bound to the baser instincts of his species.

Social animals they called them.

So he walked through the crowds, filled with people, yet not one looking his way.

Perhaps it was because there was a strange calm to the ruckus and rumble of a crowd moving every which way. To any outsider, it was chaos, individuals moving about, desperate to reach where they wanted to go, as quickly as possible. Yet, Malum had watched such crowds many a time in his life.

There was an almost invisible, natural order, that came about across a crowd of individuals, invisible paths taken, made by right, or by consensus? He could not quite say, the original maker of the path, having long since disappeared by his measure.

There too, he supposed was a strange familiarity.

Cloaked and hooded, wandering through the incomprehensible voices of thousands, each speaking their own unique tongue, only to be drowned out by all others, making a great melting pot that no one could understand.

But was still... so undeniably alive.

Jutrand was all those things and more, the great spires rose high of the city world, the capital of the Sith Empire, it far from looked the utopian dream of what they aimed for, even if there was some strange beauty in it.

If one ignored the smog that blotted out the stars at night.

If one ignored the belching smoke of factories making the weapons of war.

There would be time for utopia after victory, he supposed.

If they would ever find victory.

The final reason then, this was home, he was born here on Jutrand, not among such muck and squalor, but of his family's estate upon this world, among the last show of green left, as the Marrs had made themselves on Jutrand far before the arrival of the remnants of the Sith Empire of the Twice-Failed Emperor.

It was ironic in some sense, that the Marrs of generations past who tried their utmost to claw their way to the highs of their great master, always overlooked.

And when the time came at the end, the Order had come to them.

He had risen far in the years after the fall.

That did not mean the fall did not live in his mind free every day.

He walked these streets as a child, as an apprentice, as a traitor, as a lord, now he walked it as a councillor.

Was not there higher still?

Unfortunately, he did not have any more moments to idly ponder, as he blinked.

His movement paused, forcibly.

He had run into someone.

A child.

Hooded as he was.

Malum peered down at him curiously.

"My apologies... I seem to have been lost in thought..." Malum spoke softly, not wanting to spook the child, it was not everyday who ran into a Sith Lord after all.

And some of his peers were too cruel by half.

Soldane Talon

 

[Soldane Talon]

The streets were too crowded. More than he was used to, growing up in the isolation of his mother's Cularin Jungle estate, Soldane had seen very few crowds outside of holotapes. It made him clumsy, in spite of his Echani genetics, and when someone moved past two others Soldane failed to get out of the way - bumping directly into the man with a hard push. He almost fell, almost.​

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His foot struck back and caught him, but a hand went to rub at his nose. His eyes watered a bit a the slowly forming bruise he would have to explain to Bedford - but he feared having to explain it to Lunaria. She would be angry he didn't bring her along with him, and this was likely why. When they were together, they were stronger - but not just in the Force, but in mind and body. He probably would have never bumped into this idiot in the first place.​

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"Watch where you're going, dolt.", he said with a harshness betraying the calmness he needed. It wasn't a good idea to insult a random person - but the man had apologized instantly. Was it a sign he was weak?

As he blinked through the half formed tears up to the man, he realized who it was. There was no shortage of information he had read on the Marrs, nor was it unlikely he wouldn't recognize one of the newly appointed members of the Dark Council. His education had been thorough in these regards - politics would get him killed, even as a young man, so he needed to be deadly aware of who he saw.​

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There was a flash of something on his face, of recognition, before it faded. He downcast his gaze, a slow fear in him rising. He could not be recognized, nor could he afford to be struck down. Would this man so wish, he could have - killed a child and feared nothing for his actions. That was his place in the Empire, but Soldane knew that wouldn't be the end of it.​

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There would be a retribution on him that could not be foreseen, and could not be stopped. He didn't want that either.​

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"Forget I said anything.", he said as he tried to move past - only to pull his hand back and see his life blood on his hand. His nose was bleeding, and he grimaced at it. Sucking on his teeth, he moved to get out of the flow of people towards the edge, where a man with a disruptor shotgun carefully watched the child - and the man behind him.​

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Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

His eyes widened imperceptibly, as he raised a brow at that answer, of the harshness of it. Still, perhaps his disguise had been better than he had expected, Malum was so used to walking through crowds invisible from naked and unnaked eyes, that he had long since feared that he had grown lax in the far simpler act of disguise.

Thankfully it seemed not.

Still, it proved that the boy in front of him was rather rude if anything else... though he supposed not any more rude than anyone else in a rush on a busy Jutrand day.

Yet, he would give the boy some credit, being barrelled over by one, by Malum's estimation was double his age, and coming out of it still standing and with little more than a bruised nose, was enough to be worthy of some respect.

Indeed, if he had kept his mouth shut, it would have made an... unorthodox if still good first impression.

Malum offered the ghost of a smile, "Be careful of how you speak, you never know who will hear," reaching into his robes, and pulling out a handkerchief, offering it to him, a rather inexpensive gift for his troubles, and no doubt he would be sneezing in a few minutes as the nose adjusted itself to a new uncertain feeling, and could do little but try to fix and reorientate itself by the only means it had.

As Malum saw the first droplets of blood fall.

Noticing those tears in his eyes.

Eyes that felt strangely familiar.

He did so hate the sight of crying... crying anyone.

It was only then that he noticed, silver eyes.

Peering through the hood.

...He was an Echani, was that why he looked familiar? Silver eyes were no common trait after all.

Though perhaps coming from the one with red eyes that was a little too ironic.

What was more intriguing was the flash in those watery eyes, enough to make Malum narrow his eyes.

He was infamous within the Order, within the Empire, certainly, but it was rare that the commoner would simply recognise him at a glance. The fact that his eyes immediately turned downcast, only filled his suspicions more, he was unaware if there was an Echani quarter on Jutrand, though he supposed he would not be too surprised if there was one.

The attack on Eshan was a dark day for the planet, many had likely fled.

Still, thinking of the Echani he did know, inevitably brought him to think of the Empress...

...There likely was no connection there, and he might have dismissed it out of hand, for after all this boy seemed far from the station to serve as one of her courtiers, at the same time.

Why would some slum child recognise him?

He stilled, lost in pondering thoughts, that he almost missed the last of the Echani's words, he reached out aiming for the boy's shoulder, curiosity at his brow, yet the path of the crowd had turned against him, almost losing him among the far taller heads.

Yet making his way through, a gloved hand gripped firmly on his shoulder, "...Let me tend to your injury, it is partially my fault after all," His voice remained genial, his mind, was considering numerous theories.

Soldane Talon

 

[Soldane Talon]

At the touch, Soldane stiffened. It wasn't that he was against physical touch, but from a stranger? A dangerous one at that? It filled him with a disgust, a dread so profound he could feel his heart beat for a second. He shrugged his shoulder free of the man and moved to lean against the wall as he pinched the bridge of his nose and took the hankerchief in his other hand to wipe away what blood began to drop.​

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"Touch me again and I scream.", Soldane said with a snarl. He knew at the very least, it wouldn't look good to be attacking a child regardless of this man's station. Word would get back, cause a political incident, and he'd forever be known for attacking a child. Soldane was smart enough to know that wouldn't go well.​

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"I'll deal with it myself.", he said after a moment, pulling the clothe away to check the amount of blood that came out. It wasn't much, but enough to soil the fabric. The Echani child sighed and put it back in its place, making a quick glance to the sentry off the side. The man just watched, as though judging the situation, waiting for something to happen.​

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Soldane knew at the very least, if he acted out of pocket for any reason, violence would ensue. He'd prefer that not be the story he brought back to Lunaria and Bedford. He could only imagine the scolding he would get from Srina Talon for sneaking out. That might be the worst thing that could happen tonight.​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He quirked his eyebrow at that reaction, at the moment of his touch the boy stiffened, and then a heartbeat later he had shrugged his hand off, turning to lean back against the wall, the handkerchief soaked in his lifeblood, which at least thankfully, seemed to be stemming the flow. He was not quite sure what to say of the reaction, he supposed it might have been a common enough reaction to a stranger's touch.

Even if you recognised said stranger.

Bogan knew that Malum had been easily startled when he was a youth.

...Still, what if it heralded a far greater matter?

Unfortunately, he could not make such an accusation without further evidence.

Though as Malum raised a brow at his words, part of him was almost convinced that all the evidence that was required was right in front of him.

...But alas, no, he could not leap to such judgements so easily, Malum had drawn first blood and even if accidentally or not, it made sense that this boy was distrustful, especially if he did in fact know who he was, it not necessarily be the... that other avenue of thought which his mind had wandered.

Malum raised his hand in mock surrender, "As you wish," Despite all he could do to silence him, there was little need for any of that, especially if despite this... first impression, Malum hoped that he could still turn it around.

That was when Malum noted the presence of a third, silently watching, a weapon that could certainly cause many casualties if it was wielded without restraint.

A cartel guard.

You would imagine that trusting a criminal to have restraint would be the worst of ideas, however, here he was, keeping the peace, as much the law enforcement upon this world as the police which his cousin, Trayze Tesar , served.

His eyes flicked back to the thankfully less bloody Echani, "As you wish," Malum repeated, wondering how to best go about this, and as was his wont, taking the direct approach, "While we wait then for the crowds current to lessen... what is your name?" The Sith Lord questioned, reaching into his side, and pulling out yet handkerchief, to catch any residual droplets, and allow the boy to discard the old.

Soldane Talon

 

[Soldane Talon]

"You're pretty nosy.", he retorted, pulling the hankerchief away as he felt blood begin to dry on his lip.​

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He leaned forward an then spat a huge clot onto the ground, rubbing at his teeth to feel how much blood would stain his mouth, his teeth, until he could brush them. Hopefully he would have time before Bedford hunted him down, or dared wake him up. The whole night had to be salvaged somehow, but it likely meant he would have to leave sooner than later.​

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"Rivan. Why do you care?", which was as much a probing question as it was annoyance. Who interrogated a random kid in the middle of the Jutrand streets? Pedophiles, probably, which made him all the more nervous this man was bothering him.​

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Darth Malum of House Marr​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Red eyes glimmered, as a soft chuckle escaped his lips, "I suppose I am, you could say... knowing everything and anything, is part of my position," The boy had thankfully caught most of the blood, yet such was the trait of that viscous liquid, it seemed to rapidly dry if left unattended for so long.

Such that Malum was not too surprised, as he saw it begin to dry on his lips.

Even if somewhat surprised, enough to take a step back, dodging out of the way of the wad of spit that shot out of the Echani's mouth.

So not a noble then.

At least not a refined one.

Though considering his appearance, Echani or not, Malum would have been shocked if he was a noble.

A smile graced his lips at the last of the boy's words, Rivan, it was not a name which revealed much of anything, but it was a name.

Progress.

"I don't." He answered easily enough, that was... mostly the truth, considering the annoyance that tinged Rivan's tone, "I simply wished to inquire about the boy that I harmed, even if accidentally, yet now... I am curious, do you know who I am?"

Soldane Talon