The Iron Star - (Open)

[Jade Ren]

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

Ah this woman was going no fun, and apart from that, she was declining him for a drink. He sighed, and hung his neck down. Michael then took in a deep breath, and smiled when he turned to look at her, and she winked at him. "You're loss, you have no clue what fun I can be...plus..I have taste in woman...I'd say you're about a nine on a scale to ten...so close...sooo close." He said with a lower tone, showing a his index finger, and thumb having a small space between them. He peered through the small space between them at her, and winked back.
Michael then picked up the credit from the bench, and slid it into his pocket. Free money was free money. He didnt need it.
"Honestly, I dont think he knows what's best for you. I think...you're scared of him." He said in a teasing tone. Smirking, he continued speaking, "I think, you cant hold you're liqueur."

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"I do, she is, and she can't." Came a gruff voice, hoarse from years of shouting to be heard over the sound of automatic weapons fire, the death screech of ion engines and the guttural roar of a departing dropship. A pair of cloth covered hands came down with just enough pressure to remind the man of the advantages of staying in his karking seat and not harassing the woman further.

He didn't actually know what had been said between the two; he'd just caught her body language and made his way over in time to hear his last little bit. Judging by the noise coming from some of the nearby streets, his compatriots weren't far off. Not that he needed numbers should the man get feisty. Still, time had taught him that everyone had something to prove - including himself - and you never knew when that would boil over into a fight.

And, contrary to popular belief... he hated fighting.

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Michael Zambrano"]

 

[The End Narrator]

She yelled back behind her, managing to catch the last part - somehow.

"I can more than the both of you combined!" She waved her hands to the side in a provoking gesture. "I just have better things to do with my time." She said before turning around and continuing to move down the street. 'Whoever that guy was...well he is a cocky one, that is for sure.' She mused to herself as her hands slid into her pockets. "I'll show you a good time...!" She said mockingly under her breath. "Yeah, right buddy..." Her facial expression shifted into one of an unimpressed glance as she stared ahead, occasionally shifting from passing drunk patrons to shady characters. "Besides, I highly doubt you can get past old bucket head..." She said pulling a hand out of her pocket and gesturing idly in the air before her. "He's like that brother I never had..." She groaned softly. "Well, it's not bad to have him around, least he looks after me."

"Kinda like [member="Spencer Jacobs"] did that one time back on Teta." She mused. "Although the end result wasn't quite what I desired..."

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]
[member="Michael Zambrano"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge gave the man a stern glare before heading off after the almost disturbingly thin form of [member="Aaralyn Rekali"], booted footsteps making precious little noise despite the jogging he was doing to catch up to her without looking like a total rube. "Mumbling to yourself isn't a good sign." He says as he catches up to her and slows down, breathing transitioning back to normal within the span of a heartbeat or two.

Good ol' cardio.

How he loathed it.

There was nothing else he felt like saying just then, so he walked in silence alongside her, waiting for her to open her mouth. Who even knew where they were going.

 

[Jade Ren]

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

When the man went to leave, Michael couldnt help but utter a mocking word back at him. "You're lucky you got some tail to catch up to.." He yelled after, and turned his head away from the man. "You're all size, and no flow. You got me dirty!" He said looking at his shoulder, and wiped it off, dirt fell to the ground.
"I hate that guy.." He muttered.

 

[The End Narrator]

"And stalking isn't a good quality..." She looked to [member="Sarge Potteiger"] with a bit of sarcasm on her facial features. "You have not only managed to potentially shoo away someone I could embarrass and get free drinks from...but you stopped me from enjoying a drink too." She stopped suddenly and brought her finger up to the armored breastplate of Sarge, poking it rather hard - despite it's lack of effectiveness, it made her feel more in control. "Just who do you think you are?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Stalking wasn't a good quality. But... stalking wasn't far off from aggressive target acquisition, so he could live with it. Suddenly, however, she arrested her forward momentum and, by proxy, so too did he. And then she did the one thing all women do when they make a point - they jab at your chest. If he had pockets to stuff his hands in, he would, but his posture could give off that impression even without the motion to accompany it.

Seriously. Finger jabbing. He looked as unimpressed as he felt he looked.

"Me? Some call me Sarge." He says, as if that was all the explanation needed. That same was synonymous with stubborn, as well as aggressive. After all, he was the man who not only shot the Lady Protector... but stayed in her good graces after. That took some impressive amount of something. "I've also been called Preacher in my time." He adds, giving her a smirk.

 

[The End Narrator]

"You know you're also a pain in the ass...." She waved a hand at him and turned to stalk back down the street. "Why are you following me anyways? Don't like the answer you got back at the bar?" She grumbled and moved across the street towards a Cantina that sounded rather lively for this time of the evening. She looked left and right after an incoming speeder zoomed passed her, sending her hair flying in different direction. The driver [SIZE=12.222222328186px]fortunately[/SIZE] missed her but wasn't so lucky about half a click down the road when he smashed into the bench where they once were. Hopefully that tattoo guy had moved....([member="Michael Zambrano"])


She could hear his footsteps behind her which caused her to turn as she made it up onto the opposite sidewalk, just a few meters short of the next Cantina entrance.

"Did my dad hire you?" She said sternly. "You know, since he decided it be best that he just ups, leaves and forgets that he probably has a plethora of enemies roaming about...looking to end what little he has left." She threw her hand to the right in disgust. "You know, not the first time he just up and disappeared either." She said with a slightly choked voice and then she stopped, turning her gaze back to [member="Sarge Potteiger"] "Wait, why am I even telling you this! For the love of the Force...go somewhere!" She shouted.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

"Ye know." The man says in a bit of a drawl, clearly amused as he stood on the sidewalk she'd just vacated. "Yer really emotional fer a Jedi." There was a twinkle of mirth in those pitch black eyes, and if she knew anything of Preacher the Jedi, she knew that he'd a reputation for being quite emotional himself; except when it had mattered. He'd somehow managed to bit back his anger at the whole Mandalorian thing.

Still pat himself on the back for that one. Job well done, me.

"An who's yer dad?" He asks. That would answer that question, unless she wanted to press the issue of his ignorance. Not like he knew the familial relations of every person in the galaxy. Such an endeavor far exceeded his particular skillset. His mostly revolved around, as Jorus had once put it, hypermurder.

He was exceedingly good at hypermurder. That was how he'd gotten the Hyper-Lethal combat rating. Only one in the Protectorate with that. Not so well done, me.

"And I am going somewhere. It's called wherever you're going."

 

[The End Narrator]

She turned away from him quickly, as if she were trying to ignore everything he was saying. He was persistent, stubborn and despite the negative qualities...he gave her some level of friendly comfort. She took a deep breath and turned her head to the side, speaking over her shoulder. "Ember Rekali." Her voice slightly choked as she spoke the name. It wasn't that she was losing the battle for control of her emotions, she was just trying to understand something she hadn't had to face as an adult and alone. She looked back at the cantina door and clutched her hands together. "I know, I'm a bit emotional right now. I have alot on my mind and I haven't had a moment to unwind it all." She clenched her fingers tightly around one another as she thought of the dozens of things coursing through her brain.

"To be honest, I feel useless. I'm like itching for a fight, something to just let it all out." She took a deep breath and exhaled roughly. "Things are easier on the front-lines as opposed to these side duties." The sound of the leather material grinding together got a bit louder as her anxiety increased.

[member="Sarge Potteiger"]

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Imagining her on the front line was a laughable idea, but she was a Jedi, and that meant she could handle her own... even if he could snap her in half with a well placed punch. "Ah, him. He put the Light into my blade." That wasn't a euphemism. Ember had not only helped track Cira to Alderaan, but he'd also put the Light of the Force into Sarge's halberd. "Idea. We find somewhere quiet and private, and you just... deal with it in your own time, away from people. I'll bring the whiskey."

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn bit her left cheek in thought as she looked to the Cantina entrance and then back to [member="Sarge Potteiger"], her fingers intertwined and gripping together tightly. "I guess it's better than trying to avoid some dirtbag in there..." She said as she let her hands fall back down to her sides. "Least you have some manners and something my dad saw in you..." She gestured towards the body of Sarge as she passed him. "Let's head back to my ship." She said quietly as she slipped her hands into her pockets. "Maybe you can tell me what is wrong with the weapons capacity onboard my YT Series..."

She said as she turned partially towards Sarge, walking a bit sideways with her hands in her pocket. "Since you're so good with weapons and all that stuff..." She mused and grinned at him. He kinda reminded her of a brother she didn't have the fortune of having because well - he died. They all died, on Metalorn. Now, with Ember gone, it was just her and Alec.

She definitely needed to get in touch with [member="Skye Mertaal"], that woman was probably the next best thing to having Ember around - in the sense of knowing him. Maybe she could give her advice? What if she didn't know? How would she react to it? That is when the unsettling fear began to boil within the pit of her stomach, causing her grin to fade as she turned away from Sarge.

What if something happened to [member="Alec Rekali"] because she wasn't able to protect her? Aaralyn felt her hand begin to tremble softly within the confines of her pocket and the air felt thick and choking, as if a darkness cloud of smoke had suddenly found it's way down her throat.

What if something worse than Isolda got ahold of her again? Or worse, got ahold of Alec.

The uncertainty and doubt emanated from Aaralyn and she froze in place as the thoughts ran rampant through her mind. The lights that were dim as it were would begin to flicker around them, pulsing energy would not only audibly radiate from anything with an energy source but begin to crackle and spark from the lumbulbs themselves.

Her hands slowly came out of her pockets, blood dripping from her fingertips and down into her palms. The blood oozed between her soft flesh and onto the ground, blackened vermilion fluid puddled at her feet as she stared in horror at her hands. "The blood of a thousand innocents...." She whispered softly, the memories flooding her mind from the Vahla Shrine to the Goddess on Coruscant. The whispers of a thousand beings filled her ears, along with the laughing of @Darth Nepthys and the soft lull of [member="Darth Isolda"]. She began to weep, her tears weren't made of water though - they were the same blackish red blood that stained and dripped from her hands.

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

Sarge had always been mentally dead, at least in regards to the Force. His mental problems were his own, and just as no one could reach into his mind, so too was he unable to breach another's. This extended, in many ways, to his empathic abilities. Reading people was one thing, but feeling through the Force was another. He could read, not sense. So when she stopped and retracted into herself, he knew what was coming without being able to feel it.

Her look was one he was intimately familiar one as it was one he'd worn countless times in his life. Coming around her as she settled into her own mind, clearly seeing things he could not, he set one hand on her shoulder while the other reached up to cup the sides of her chin. "Break out of it." He whispers quietly, "You are safe. You're OK. Everyone is fine... okay?" That last word was the most curious, as he put every soothing emotion he had into it.

It was a promise, a question and a lie, all at once.

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[HK-50]

Loud metal clanking came from the Cantina entrance as a droid came out of it, it started walking towards the couple down the sidewalk, not noticing, or not caring, as too what was happening. The droid in question, was painted a poor shade of durasteel, had yellow gleaming eyes and a bar with the rank of Lieutenant on it's chestpiece.

Sarge Potteiger Aaralyn Rekali

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn snapped back to reality with a sudden jolt, her hands coming up to grab onto whatever part of [member="Sarge Potteiger"]’s armor she could. Her eyes reflected fear and confusion, never having experienced such a flood of emotions and raw memories before. She didn’t quite understand what Boolon had said when he mentioned ramifications for restoring memory, now she did. The haunting images of what had become of her and what she had done to accomplish greater sense of knowledge through the Force had a price and that price would be a life without peace.

She felt the tension in her arms as she gripped Sarge’s armor tightly, the fear in her eyes slowly fading as she listened to the words that came from him. Slowly, she relaxed, her arms falling back down by her side as her muscles eased into a natural state. “I…I’m ok.” She stuttered softly and turned away.“I’m not quite sure what happened." She would shake her head softly, speaking in a low tone.

“I think it is best I get back to the Coronet and get some rest.” She looked over her shoulder at Sarge. “Since you’ve pretty much looked after me since day one, I think I’ll take ya in like a big brother or something…” She offered him a weak smile. “I mean, I don’t have any family left anyways, so what could it hurt?”

OOC - [member="HK-50"], Just letting you know that we're actually outside the Cantina. We sort've progressed beyond it. You're more than welcome to catch us out there if ya'd like!