Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Strange Tidings

The empyrean worked in strange ways.

Today, it had brought him a message from a stranger. The message had detailed wishes for a meeting in exchange for service, though such pretenses were false, unknown to Cedric. It had been meant to lure the Jedi Master out into the open, and it had succeeded.

The bar was several levels beneath Coruscant's upper crust; it was the sort of place Jedi were sorely needed these days, and the lack of his brethren's presence was noticeable. The denizens within gave Cedric a wide berth as he strode through the smoke stained lounge. Most assumed the man clad in full battle plate to be a bounty hunter of mercenary until they saw the two-handed light club hanging openly from his belt. If that wasn't enough, than the saber scarred helm he wore was intimidating enough to carve him a line through the crowds.

The Jedi Master radiated an intensity that served him well in places like this. It was an illusion of power that he maintained by subtly plucking at the minds of those closest to him for the sole purpose of seeing them give him passage. His helmeted gaze fell upon one of the dark corners of the room. Shadows played across it like the touch of the bogan, and the creature that dwelled within it was just as mysterious as the primordial enemy itself.

Cedric came to a halt in front of the booth, arms folding about his chest as he looked down to regard the shadowed figure.

"I was told you wished to meet with me by a mutually friendly party," he stated plainly, his voice tinny with mechanical augmentation.
 
Outfit: Currently wearing
Weapons: Throwing daggers & Katana
Tags: [member="Cedric Grayson"]

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Shalita wasn’t really in the mood to meet yet another person who a whisper had said could be the man that she had been looking for for all of these years. In fact, the woman had almost given up looking. The likelihood of her finding the man responsible for restoring her mind and giving her the key to her freedom, was unlikely. There were so many people and finding one of them, out of billions across a galaxy so vast, was a near impossible task. A task that she would never fully give up on, no matter how long it took. It was a challenge, one that she couldn’t drop, her pride just wouldn’t let her. The woman was an assassin and if she couldn’t find her target then she wasn’t a very good assassin.

Currently the Assassin was sitting in a shadowy corner booth, where the hood of her cloak was drawn down over her face, to cast even more shadows across it. Darkness had been a friend of hers, had always been ever since her escape. In fact, Shalita always saw herself as the shadow of the Vi’dreya family, mostly because of the fact that she was always looking for her next undercover assignment. Keeping busy was her forte and if she wasn’t keeping busy, she had lately found herself in the training room, building up her combat skills and working with the Force. An assassin could never have too many skills up her sleeve, especially if they wanted to excel in their field.

Sitting in front of her was a glass of tennessee whiskey and ice blue eyes watched as cool droplets of condensation slowly made their way down the outside of the glass. It had been untouched, in fact, the woman rarely drank anymore. Why? Because she never allowed the toxins to play with her mind. She didn’t even take painkillers for pain. That was how she preferred it, to keep her mind crystal clear and thinking with absolute clarity, as one false move could always be detrimental in her line of work. Discovery was not an option. With line of thinking at the forefront of her mind, she became aware of the uneasy murmurs that was beginning to drift around the establishment, murmurs which announced the well known figure. Slowly the woman leaned forwards and lifted her arms so then she could rest her elbows upon the table in front of her. Gloved hands rose so her fingers could interlace and her chin rested on those fingers just as the man approached her table and spoke.

Cedric Grayson. The man was a well known figure alright, known for his masked and heavily robed figure. A whispering bird had also confirmed as much, but that didn’t mean that he was the one that she was looking for. “Feel free to sit and have a drink,” The woman said softly as she leaned back slightly so then ice blue eyes could peer up from underneath the hood, to take in the figure before her. Within her mind’s eye she could very well see it, see the man from her past being the man that stood before her now and eyes narrowed upon him. Shalita never really knew if the man would ever recognise the killer that he had set free that fateful day. One born of ice and cold calculations. One who could shed her skin and go undercover for years and not think twice about it.

Leaning back slightly, her right hand dropped to her lap only to lift up a katana that had been covered up by black material, resting it upon the table beside her, she drew back the material slightly so then the hilt could be visible to the male in front of her. It was a test, one that was true to its core. No one had ever passed the test before, as the other had not recognised the blade itself, but only the one that had given it to her would recognise it and the test was the sure fire way to cut everything down to the core. If he was that man, she didn't quite know what she would do. Reaching for him was very much an option this time, but if he was who he was, the one man who knew her before she was an assassin, her own mask might slip. A mask that hid her vulnerabilities deep, vulnerabilities that this man was more than aware of, due to the fact that he had restored her mind and that man had been the only one inside her mind ever since.

Her free hand dropped to rest next to the glass upon the table, but slowly it fisted as she watched him carefully. Could it really be him?
 
There were many being in the galaxy who who Cedric had crossed. His various misadventures ranging from work with the Dominion to the New Republic had made him a rather unpopular figure among the traditional Sith hierarchy, and truthfully he had been expecting an assassin. It certainly would not be the first, and from the way the cowled woman carried herself told him that he had come to meet with another of these death dealers.

He prepared himself for a short and violent bout, as these things often tended to go that way, but found himself pausing. The way she spoke ticked a memory, and he found himself reaching out into the empyrean without conscious thought put into the decision. The Great Ocean's currents were powerful here, and he glimpsed an image of foreboding within their depths. As he searched deeper, he felt something unexpected - the source of the violent currents was not anger, but of suspicion and anxiety.

Whomever this woman was, he had felt her presence before, and she certainly knew him. He said nothing as she spoke, instead inclining his head curiously toward the drink. He opted not to take it for fear that it might have been drugged, and instead adopted a more open posture. His arms fell down to his sides, and his shoulders slackened.

When the blade was drawn, so too was Cedric's recognition. He understood now the woman's relation to him now, though he had little idea as to why she had called him here. There was no indication yet that she was not a threat.

"You're the girl that worked for that slaver," the Jedi Master's brow furrowed as he reached up to draw back his cowl. The pressure valves on his helmet hissed as he twisted them open, releasing the artificial atmosphere of his suit in favor of the more natural Coruscanti air.

The helm was clipped to his belt, revealing a young, though haggard and scarred face. Cedric was pale and patrician in appearance, his eyes thin specks of sapphire that peered out through the murky din to appraise the assassin.

"Has it served you well?" He lofted a brow, evidently rather curious.

[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
 
It was almost as if she had been punched in the gut. Almost, as an exhale saw her breathless if only for a moment when the male confirmed that it was indeed he who had set her free. Shalita’s free hand pushed aside the drink while her right hand drew the material back over the weapon, to cover it once more. After so long, she had finally found him. So many questions flooded her mind, but slowly the woman rose from her seated position and hands lifted to pulled back the hood from her head. Black locks tumbled around her shoulders and framed a pale face while a frown descended upon her brow as she took in the male before her and barely registered the words he now spoke. She remembered the eyes as they peered back at her all those years ago, when shaky hands suddenly steadied and thoughts that were clear as day began to filter through her mind once more. Eyes that had said so much and yet nothing at all.

A hand rose from her side as if she was reaching for him yet again, before she caught the movement and forced that hand to fall back to her side once more. Never had she thought that she would come across this male again. Cedric. Cedric Greyson had given her a precious gift, one that she realised that she could never repay. “The blade has only ever brought death to one individual,” The Shi’ido said as she drew her gaze away from him to look to the covered blade once more. His gift had been the only one that she had ever carried with her, the only thing that was not replaceable. Everything else had been replaced over the years, time and time again, but she had kept the blade. Kept it and made sure that it was always in top condition. Even now the blade could still kill another soul, should she so choose to.

Where could she even begin? “I could never repay you for the kindness that you showed me that day. For the gift of restoring my mind.” A hand reached out to lightly settle upon the table top beside her then and gripped it with an intensity that made her want to break the damn table. Slowly, she drew in a breath and looked back to the male before her. “I also knew, that the blade you gave me would eventually lead me back to you, so then I could return it.” The blade itself was a symbol really, one that anchored her so then she truly wouldn’t be lost in one of her many aliases. It made sure that she couldn’t truly ever cut the ties that bound her to a faction or a family and it had always drawn her back whenever she strayed too far amongst the shadows of her world. However, she had only kept it to return it to its rightful owner. That rightful owner, now stood in front of her.

Her left hand which had gripped the table released its grip only to slide the blade over to the male. “I can’t say that I understand why you helped me back then. It confuses me, because I can sense that while I walk the path of darkness, you… Walk the opposite.” Ice blue eyes caressed the male’s face as she took in every inch of skin, every scar and every creased that marred his youthful face. However, it was those sapphire eyes that drew her gaze back to them and she felt that itch to reach towards him to smooth fingers along that skin and to find out every one of his secrets that laid hidden behind those eyes. Her own face didn't carry a mark of the years, it was smooth, unmarred and it didn't carry a story of the hardships that she had endured.

A realisation dawned upon her then as she stared into those eyes. If this man was to ever be an enemy of the Confederacy, it would kill her; for she wouldn’t be able to help the family that had adopted the assassin and she wouldn’t be able to help the man who had given her back her life.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

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Cedric remained silent as the assassin spoke her piece, or rather the girl. He supposed he couldn't see her in the light of the killers he'd come across in the past after having known what had started her upon her path. Knowing the origins of those he would otherwise be called to detain tended to muddy the moral grounds he so often stood upon. His expression did not betray his thought; it was a stoic mask that he had crafted for himself long ago.

The empyrean shifted in unusual patterns. The woman's presence within it was clouded. He sensed no violent thoughts or any such things from her, despite the way she spoke. Momentary confusion flickered in his eyes and a slight shifting of his jaw, and then he understood.

"Then you've used it well," he remarked, approval obvious in his tone. For one reason or another the woman's words eased some of the worries brewing in the dark corners of his mind. The possibility that he had sent a rage filled murderer upon the galaxy was something he had not considered until now. He supposed she might have been lying, but he chose to believe her for his own sense of comfort. "I do not believe the Force would have led me to give it to you were you to use it any other way." He added honestly.

The Jedi paused as she reached out with a hand, then halted mid gesture. He read it as a momentary threat, but quickly cast such thoughts aside. He'd become undeniably paranoid since the scourging of his homeworld. Further thoughts on the matter were quelled when she offered him the blade. His thoughts shifted to the weapon's origin: it had been a tool of ancient times, one his family had left within the Graywall centuries prior. It was a weapon that was not to Cedric's own taste, and he'd happened to have it aboard his ship when he'd stopped that day. The decision to give it to the girl had been one of impulse, but one he had not regretted. Other Jedi could afford to be merciful with the likes of slavers, but Cedric was not blessed with such infinite compassion for his enemies.

"You don't need to repay me for anything. A Jedi's duty is to serve wherever it is required. You were suffering, so I helped. Any good person with similar abilities would have done the same," he replied with something akin to a friendly tone. "As for the blade, it's spent far more time in your company than in mine. I have my own weapon," he reached down to pat the blade at his belt. "That katana isn't really suited to my style, anyway."

He offered her a reassuring smile, evidently oblivious or unaffected by the mental struggle going on within the woman's mind. If he could read it within the empyrean or infer it from her body language, it did not show. "Perhaps I helped you because I saw the potential for something more than what you call darkness," his brow furrowed. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself, but know that there is always potential to escape the influence of the Dark Side. It's only a matter of truly wanting to be free of it - everyone gets to that point, but eventually it gets far too late to pull back."

Cedric paused. He was preaching again, wasn't he?

A plate-bound hand was offered. "I never caught your name back then."

[member="Shalita Vi'dreya"]
 
Yes, the blade itself had claimed one life, but many other blades and other tools had claimed the lives of others. The woman was, after all, an assassin. None of the kills were made through anger, but rather ice cold calculation, right down to the timing of each one of her victim’s breaths. Some were through simple curiousity, while others had been contract kills. There was always a purpose to a kill, never were they senseless and ice only peered out at the man who stood before her as he spoke of the Force and his belief of it guiding hand; metaphorically speaking. The assassin didn’t really have much to do with the Jedi and what they did, but she did feel a slight pang of sadness in a way that they stood on opposite grounds. Even as he spoke the words and said that it was never too late, she knew that he was wrong. For her, it was too late.

A gloved hand rose to lightly grasp his own as a small smile curved the corners of her lips. “I believe that you didn’t give me a chance to give you a name. Although people call me Shalita, Shalita Vi’dreya.” The woman angled her head slightly to the right, “And I know who you are… Cedric Greyson. It's impossible not to know who you are, you don’t exactly keep a low profile.” She said with a soft chuckle to her words. His profile was high and while she was probably putting a target on the back of her ‘normal’ form, she figured it was a risk she would take. Another challenge, to outsmart any assassins that may come her way. Take out the competition. Prove her skills against others in her profession.

Finally she sighed, “It is too late Cedric.” Shalita finally said, in reference to their earlier conversation. If the man chose to remain still, the woman took a step closer to him and raised the hand that held his own. Drawing his hand closer to her, she rested his plate bound hand against the bare skin of her neck. “Feel free to look inside if you like, it’s not as if you haven’t already been there before.” She said as a smirk curved her lips. Ice, her soul was ice. There were no real warm attachments, there was nothing except a code of conduct. A code of practice that gave no real meaning to family except the knowledge that she knew family meant a loyalty of some kind. She was never able to fully grasp the emotions that came with that territory, only the knowledge of what it should be.

It was a defense of sorts, to protect her mind from shattering a second time if her family were killed once more, but even as that thought crossed her mind, she knew that this family would be able to fight back. However, she still kept them at arm's length. If anything were to happen to her, she’d make sure no one mourned like she had for her own parents. Her death would just be that, but she herself would fight until then. The only thing that had held her where she was, had been the memory of waking up from a long slumber, but ever since then, she had made sure that her path was mostly one of solitude.

After a pause, she dropped her hand and reached out to take the blade from the table, only to tie it back onto the belt around her waist. Her free hand lifted to press to the center of her chest if only for a moment, before she drew upon the strength of the cold shadows to steady her mind once more into a blade. The hand fell back to her side, “If you ever need help, I’ll do my best to help you. However, I cannot help you when it comes to the Confederacy. I will not harm those within my faction, nor will I do something for you that will harm my faction’s progress.”


[member="Cedric Grayson"]

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