There Were Only Three...

[Darth Caedes]

Deep Space;
Mid Rim;
On Mission.

Sweat crept over Nejaa's body. In fact, it felt as though his mouth was now the only location not wet from nervous fear. Instead, a parched tongue danced behind white rows of teeth. All of the screens and lights were flickering perfectly, everything checked out. He had run a thorough diagnostics test on the Pride before leaving Republic space and heading out into the wilds, so to speak. It had felt like days already were slipping by at hour mark three, and the continuous buzz of pilots behind him rattled in his ears. Republic troopers, stationed in stealth based craft on a stealth mission. They starships they each maneuvered in looked thin and long, with short wings which sported ample enough looking guns. This had not been the first mission he'd taken with the spear like ships backing him, but this would certainly be different than those other times. I doubt Nejaa even knew yet, though.

<<Kfftt--Master Niynx, are you picking that up on your local scanners?>>

The sudden boot of noise seemed to kick Nejaa in a place less comfortable than expected, and he shook into reality once more. The air felt hot, and his eyes moved quickly from the left to right, like he was looking for something. Hands, just shy of shaking, scrambled for the controls before him and clicked the lever through which he could respond. "Honest truth I-- I wasn't looking, hold on, I'm--..." His voice cut out, and silence resumed for another second. In a quiet 'blip' the scanner screen blinked red, and a small, incoming and flashing dot entered. Followed by another dot, and a third. "Wh-What are those? They're not coming for us ar--" But his answer came before he could finish. Another burst of the intercom, and another ship spat rushed words.

<<Kkffttt--They have a weapons lock kkftt... Weapons lock on me!>>

Nejaa's eyes widened, were they being attacked? There was no way. No way, right? The boy bit his lip and sprawled his fingers like spiders over his control panels. By no means was he an incredible pilot, he felt trapped and useless, all at once in a rush which overtook him. "Break off, assume needle formation--" But it was a bit too late, and the shooting started. A powerful blast rumbled the hull of Nejaa's Infiltrator. Heavy breathing, and frantic movements led him to pull up on the yoke with a sudden heave. His ship spiraled into a spin, arcing up and coming back down hard on the attacking entourage. There were three of them, though they didn't look uniform. For a second, Nejaa refrained from pulling the triggers, just for a second thinking of how much more easy this would be.

Click.

The lasers blasted quickly, and on repeat, firing round after round into the hull of the ship just before him. It was not usual that things worked out that well. A panting breath of excitement took pause, and then resumed as he flew through the wreckage of the ship. Each of his pilots whipped around as well, surviving the first wave fully. But they had lost their position in the strafe effort, and now the enemies were behind them. No doubt, they were already locking their targeting brackets on the whole lot of them. Nejaa's eyes looked over every button, trying to think of something he could do. Despite what his training told him, he could not merely trust, and reach out to the force. It felt like he was being choked, and fighting for each breath of air. "Line up, we'll swing back around and take them from behind. Form up ahead, I'll cover your rear. You'll make the turn faster... on my mark..." With a swift swivel of the yoke, and a combination of nimble finger work on the keyboard just ahead of him, Nejaa flung his hull up and around to try and flank the enemy once more. "Scatter!"

<<Kkftffk--No good-- missile lock, they're firin-->>

A single explosion and he caught sight of his third fighter spiraling down the space-scape before detonating a final time. Nejaa's eyes seemed to despise the flames and smoke, gripping his teeth tightly, and grinding them against one another. "Keep up position," Nejaa insisted, and the two stuck to it, finally coming around to the enemy's rear only to have Nejaa sweep in behind them. Everything seemed to be lining up now, and they shot. Quickly, it was clear who the winner would be of this little piloting match, the enemy peeled apart into scrap in little time. There was only one left, but it was perhaps the smallest and fastest of the lot. Its evasive skill was rather impressive, and in a quick turn it peeled back to take aim at the second ship.

He had it locked on, just for a second. It flew right by his laser canons, ready and primed to rip the hull apart. But Nejaa's shaking fingers hesitated, and it got away. A high pitched silence took over his senses for the rest. The rest, where he became useless, letting the small craft take advantage of his pause, and tear apart the next of his men. He was letting it happen, though every noise of explosion seemed to cut deep into him, bleeding out his morality. Gulps from that dry mouth, gulps which surely carried no liquid content, yet they were sucked down all the same. The intercoms on his dashboard blazed with activity. Questions and demands, concerns of dying, and then, while Nejaa just watched, the last of the three ships was torn apart. Where a voice had echoed back in hysteria just seconds before, now a thick static overtook the cockpit. A simple click of a lever, and another few jerked movements and the enemy was torn apart into the starred darkness.

He had not come through completely unscathed, as the first hit had been a more than direct hit on his hull, and he could tell the damage was significant enough to cause a premature landing somewhere. The holonet popped up in 3D before his eyes, and he poked at the moving and bouncing shapes until whatever information he was looking for apparently surfaced. "Blast..." He said, looking at his bleak options. Anzat was his best option, but it was a rough bet to take. From what he knew of the place, it was a cesspool of crime, and home-on-wheels to many of the galaxy's smugglers. That said, it was geared towards on-the-run-pilots, and would more than likely be able to accommodate his situation, provided he didn't make it too obvious he was a Jedi. He would just be in, and out, make repairs, and leave. That was all, he promised himself. That was all.

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

He kept his head low here, an entire body wrapped in the darkly colored, hooded cloak. It was but quick words with the skeptical looking spaceport employee who took in his ship, and more easily took Nejaa's money. He had already worked out the ship's repairs, but it was going to be hours before he'd be ready to fly again. He looked around him, but found no comforting corner to hide in, and the ship's lonely cockpit was hardly inviting. He had never been taken to this planet on mission before, and had never had much interaction with it at all. Of course, he remembered the information he had received back in the academy, where he had acquired his basic knowledge of many of the galaxy's unique worlds. Standing at the open hatch to his ship, and leaning against the durasteel bulk, he decided on food. In his first scan, he found no promising direction to start, though the second brought him a wiff of something. Pleasant would be stretching it a bit, but edible and considerable was perhaps closer.

As he walked, bumping into what seemed like everyone he passed, he tried to avoid the thoughts of what he'd just done. The temptation which had gotten the better of him, and the strict defiance which could mean a life time of trouble later. What was he going to tell his superiors? Was he going to tell them anything? Keep on running and try to disappear? What had he been thinking, what was he doing? The world churned around him, and he walked face first into a large alien, four armed man. Nejaa, not thinking anything of it, apologized quickly and tried to move past, but things never worked out like that in places like this. "'Eyy kid," clamored the man in a thickly accented basic. As Nejaa turned, the man was approaching him quickly, arms wide as if wanting to initiate a fight. "Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by--" but the first of two shoves came hard against Nejaa's chest. As the second rasped his pectorals, Nejaa grimaced and grabbed the alien's finger, twisting it until the large man knelt in false submission, one of his many ams lashing out to strike again. Nejaa dodged it only be stepping back and losing the finger.

"I don't want any trouble, sir..."

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

The room was hot. Steamy even. I had sweat over my body, feeling the slight pain of tears in my skin on my back from nails. Bite marks on my shoulders, forearms, and even my thighs and hands. Sleeping next to my waking figure, rested a woman. A pink skinned Zeltron that had blue hair deeper than the oceans of Mannan. She was a pretty lass. And one who liked to play around. Last night had been eventful. Well, it was up until I blacked out from the sheer lack of sleep, and pure contents of adult drinks. Having a small flashback.....

"Well my handsome man, why would you buy such a lady like myself a drink?"

Yep, I bought a Zeltron girl a drink. She looked nice, as well, she had been looking my way all night. She didn't know that I had that information on her. Like most bars, they have a Mirror behind the bartender, a form of illusion to make it seem like they had more drinks than they really did. From my angle to her, I was taking a look to notice about an half an hour ago she kept looking at me. Now she had walked up and started a conversation with me. It was about an hour of flirting and talking about stuff. about how I am a Soldier, and a warrior that was off duty. I had led her to a room that I had been renting here on Anzat. The place was known for crimes and whatever else. So having a little fun was not out of the question.

It was then that I heard a rustle on the right side of the bed. Moving over to see, I looked down to see two other women. One a blue Twi'lek, and a mix between a human and a cat like creature. She had ears and a tail was slowly moving its way out of the blanket that was on top of the two as they almost cuddled with one another. The feline woman look familiar. it was then that I had another flashback to when the Zeltron woman, whose name I forgot, called her friends. It was later on when the two came in and well. We all had a good time. I let the rest of the memory fade from my memory Turning back over to the Zeltron woman, I placed a hand on her shoulder. In a few seconds she woke up and saw me. Her face went from a dull sleep to a bright smiling face.

"We really need to do that again." She gave me a wink and I leaned down and gave her a kiss. "I'll leave my number, I have to get going. Duty calls." She smiled and tried to go back to sleep. I pulled the blanket off of myself and stepped over the two women on the floor. Apparently it was good to have friends. I shrugged my shoulders as I looked down at myself. Bite marks, scratches, even places where I was scratched so hard there was some dried blood on my skin. Walking over to the end table, I picked up my pants and slid them on as quietly as possible, and slid on my boots. Grabbing the rest of my items, I made my way out. And yes, I did leave my number behind.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

​

I grunted as my skin was once more covered in sweat. This time it was because I was running. Running to keep myself in shape. While I had not been in battle for a while, I wanted to keep myself in the same shape should I have to go back into a battle once more. I ran past others without incidents or confrontation. Mostly because I had my shirt off. I mean, watch a guy who stands close to seven feet tall with ripped abbs and pecs that could lift a woman from her feet alone, you didn't really want to mess with him. As well, I was still armed. Ready should I need to use a weapon. but hidden to look as though I were a civilian. Even when most of them carried weapons anyways.

It was during my running that I saw a man start a fight with a younger male. I didn't pay attention to the kid as I was running, as well, I was not one to do something on a whim. Chaos around here was good for me. But when I could feel a Force signature from the young man, I slowed down to watch him as he fought off the man. Even while it was nothing else to it. I walked across the street towards the two.

It was then that the four armed man aimed to punch the kid for a second time. But he was met with my own fist. Catching his in mine, I twisted and with a loud audible snap his wrist was broken, I then pushed him back with my off hand physically. "leave the kid alone. He said he was sorry."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"],

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

Nejaa never thought 'thank god, I'm saved.' The ignorant and out-of-line alien had posed no actual threat. Had Nejaa needed, he could have easily dispatched the man into several pieces. However, that was no where near the case anymore. A sting of awareness drew about the area, whispering to him frantically in the force. What was that man doing here? After sucking in a powerful breath, Nejaa stepped backwards and away from the man, one hand drawing closer to his lightsaber. Before him, the alien lay in a very real submission, and the surrounding civilians had been very much alerted to the violence. So many eyes, all at once, fell upon him and he felt naked before the stares. They probably all thought of themselves as predators for the small, human child; how wrong they were, on so many fronts. "Da-Darren..." He had almost wanted to prefix the name with 'master', but had refrained from doing so. Of course, it would have more or less been a false familiarization, in an attempt to come out of this encounter alive. Then, like a threat his whisper came, not to be mistaken for anything bold of nature. It was still very clearly made in desperation. "What are you doing here!?" He was so close to simply turning around and--

Actually, no, that was a good idea, come to think of it. Nodding, he looked past Darren to apologize to the alien man. The now victim-alien man. "Apologies, sir." He made the same gesture to the gathered audience, and began to walk quickly away from the scene. If Darren even remembered the boy, his appearance here was somewhat thought about. At least, Darren had not avoided the little jedi he met at lightsaber point, that time ago. If he was rethinking his previous kindness, Nejaa did not want the battle to be around innocents; not that any of them could really be classified as 'innocents.' If Darren had something to say, or wanted to converse at all, he would have to understand Nejaa's terms of communication - out of the public eye. Then, there was a chance that Darren had not recognized him at all, or couldn't care less, and they would go about their ways. But for some reason, he didn't want to believe that.

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

I had not noticed the young man as he stood almost behind me. The four-armed man yelled out in pain as I had just broken a few bones in his hand and wrist all at once. I let the man go and fall to the ground as the young man mentioned my real name. I turned my head to look at him. Beheld his face that was one of my past when I was a Knight, and later as a Master. It had been years since our last encounter, but felt like yesterday when the boy had gotten in a fight on Courscant, and the ensuing chase of thugs at him. I had not really saved him, as more so, my presence was used as a form of nullifying the situation.

Over the years I had acquired a voice. One that was filled with authority and power. Yet it would be cold and almost unforgiving. The question was posed of what I was doing here. Around here I was not known as Darren. No, I had changed my name to get away from the past that I had created of myself. I was known as Dante. The meaning of "Enduring" rather than a standard name. I looked at him in slight confusion "I have no idea who you are talking about kid." But as I turned around, he began to walk away. I already knew the situation. Turning back to the instigator of the situation, I walked over and helped him up. "Just mind your own buisness. Maybe you should learn from the kid to be more accepting." I turned from his face and began to walk away as well.

Somewhat towards the direction that Nejaa was walking, only I had once again moved across the street to look and feel as though I were not with the young man. Almost following him to where we would be able to talk alone. As I walked, There were small booths for many things. One of them happened to be clothing. Picking the first thing up, it was a white T-shirt that was a little to small. I shook my head. Even in these situations, I always ended up with a tight shirt. Threatening to break should I even flex just slightly. I cursed myself in a low voice for being a tool. I reached for another item, and it was a simple windbreaker jacket that I used to cover myself a little more.

I continued to walk on in almost a diagonal fashion to Nejaa. Watching him and where he would turn next.

We had a lot to discuss.

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

There was a short pause. A delaying game, as Darren released the man with a stern warning and purchased his new set of clothing, Nejaa continued swiftly indoors. It didn't matter how far he ran, or where he hid, so long as he made no attempt to hide his aura of force. Darren would find him, and Nejaa knew the man by no other name. In fact, he knew very little about the man, other than that the dark side of the force flowed strongly through him. It had thrown Nejaa off kilter at first, Darren's seemingly justified nature. He felt like a sith, and yet spoke something like a Jedi... at least, it was not purely evil. There was some sense of justice there. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he reminded himself who he was dealing with and looked for vantage points. He had to consider the option of violence in his near future, and with someone far superior. If that was the case, he would need to rely on knowing his surroundings. And an agile retreat.

It didn't take many backward glances for Nejaa to realize he was indeed being followed. Very shortly, he would have company. Yanking the hood up and over his head, his skin quickly changed until he resembled a red skinned zabrak. Black tattoos criss crossed his body with thick lines. When he turned around to face Darren, he was fully submerged in a lonely back ally, dark shadows cast about and the whole scene lit with low volume. "Darren," he hissed, as if threatened just by being around the man. "What are you doing here... you can't just..." he motioned to the two of them, and began shaking his hands. "We can't be seen together, b-but I have... so much to... tell you..." A quick moment of hesitation, and he reached for his lightsaber handle, but never actually took it from the belt. "You're not gunna like... attack me or something rash, right?"

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

Following kept getting harder and harder after the years.

The first we had met, it was easy to keep up to him. Now, he was doing very well. Moving in and out. Fast enough to be moving away from me, but not quite fast enough to attract attention. I saw his hood go up, and I already knew that he was trying to blend in. He was not human. He was a Clawdite. A species of shapeshifters. While yes it did hurt him, he would probably use it because of my name. I couldn't blame him. I stopped almost in the middle of the walkway and concentrated on his force signature. In an instant, I found him up ahead of me.

Deciding to take this the easy way, I simply walked after him. Turning around the corner to see a Zabrak. Indistinctly I drew my hilt just because of my past with the species. Three have I met, and three of them betrayed me. I would not fall again. but his words of my old name struck me. I put the saber away and shook my head. "It has been a long time since someone has called me by that name Nejaa." I pointed to my black hair and my rough face. "I have changed this to hide myself and become an outcast. Since we have last met, I have done some rather nasty things, and took the downfall for others. I got rid of the name you speak of. Don't utter it again."

I had gotten rid of the word. Leaving everything of my past behind to protect her. It was all for her. I just hoped that Nejaa would know as well, but I would hold back from the young man. "I won't. I act on reason, not because I simply can." my left hand erupted in a small series of sparks, "If I wanted to, You already would be hurt, or worse."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"],

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

Nejaa nodded in silent, albeit fearful submission at Dante's commands. Darren the name Nejaa had known him by, was no longer something which represented the man. And he had changed, if only slightly. That is to say, the resemblance was obvious enough to the young Knight. Though, the more the man opposite him spoke, the less and less comfortable he felt. When a man like Dante spoke of nasty deeds, Nejaa had no way to fathom that which he meant. The dark side of the force pulsated through him, thick, and unhindered by much. It was far different than Nejaa's own energetic make up, far more bold and aggressive. It seemed to overwhelm the Knight, and squash his presence without completely crushing him. After all, the darkness was not capable of completely eating the boy, as he was also a powerful wielder of its properties. He merely lacked refinement in such practices, darker practices.

"What, uh, what terrible things have you done... Dante..."

He managed to ignore Dante's expression of power. A feature of the dark side, coils of force generated lightning winding around his fingers like animated snakes of thin light. Nejaa had managed no such offensive power, as such abilities were used with a venomous side of the force, addictive and dangerous. Though, he hardly felt at ease with the Jedi's limitations on the force, either.

"... Dante... what terrible things..."

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

Asked of what bad things. I shook my head. letting the lighting in my hand dissipate to nothing once more. I slumped my shoulders. Letting them fall down and I shook my head once again. I held a hand up. Stop sign for him to not speak. Slowly my arm drifted down like a leaf in the fall. I wanted to tell the young man. Tell him about what had happened in my past. So many years had passed since when it had happened. And yet it was my most defining moment in how poorly I had made my choices. I was young then. Just out of the Academy at the Sith Temple. I could remember every detail as though it were yesterday. Almost twenty years later, I knew that the Girl was grown now. Probably was living the life of a normal being. She deserves it.

"It was a long time ago before you were even born Nejaa. I changed myself to keep someone safe. It is from my actions that I had to either choose to keep them in my life, but have them in danger every waking moment, or leave them, and keep them safe without me there."

I bowed my head and lifted it up.

"Nejaa, You know that I am old. Older than most and older than I look. I am fourty five years old. Almost half a century. Yet, I am still in my prime. Don't you think someone else would have a family. A wife to bed with. A son to wrestle with, and a daughter to hold and protect?" Deciding that he was going to be the only person I would ever tell. I felt a close connection to this young man. I don't know why, but I knew that he could keep silent about information.

"I have a daughter."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"]

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

He didn't move, and the whole time he waited to reach for his lightsaber. Waited to be attacked, fear urging him to stay cautious. This was, after all, a sith of sorts. It had been a long while since the man had appeared in Nejaa's life, and there was no telling what exactly he had been doing all of this time. Things that he would not have time to tell him now, and things that he probably would never tell the young Knight of the Republic. Nejaa's voice shook a bit as he challenged Dante's forceful presence with a demanding stare of his own. His defiance straightened his posture, and looked to relax him, physically loosening him until he looked at the man as if they were on equal footing. Not one above the other, nor one under. Of course, he knew such a view was false on most accounts, but his presence evened out.

"A daughter...?"

Nejaa's dismantled confusion wasn't at all evident on his face. "You have a family," he asked to himself, having just received the answer and not expecting it again. "So then what'd you do, Dante," he questioned further, taking a small step forward with the raised infliction of his voice. "What'd you do that was so terrible, tell me." He didn't sound as if he were asking any longer, though he had no power to demand anything. Which made his tone a tricky one to figure our, more multi dimensional than any simple mental game. He wanted to feel safe around the man, and comfortable, but he couldn't.

[member="Dante Zankar"]

 

[Garza]

Slowly I let my shoulders fall. I had let it go. Part of me felt good about it. The other part wanted me to take it back. But actually. I felt proud to say that I had a daughter. I smirked as he asked me about me having a daughter. I nodded my head and walked closer to him. That way we were within an arms reach of each other. It was where I wanted so desperately to tell everything. But instead, I kept my silence on the subject.

"We need to go somewhere else. Staying in one spot in the open is dangerous."

I looked around visually and looked through the force to see if there was anything that I could find of a person being close or listening in on us. Luckily no one was. Turning back to the young man looking more like a Zabrak, I spoke in a whisper.

"If you want to talk more. we can. Meet me at the Inn called, 'Nexu's Claws Inn' Room 1341." I turned around to leave him and then stopped. Looking over my shoulder. "Good to see you alive kid. Just don't die on me yet."

[member="Nejaa Niynx"],

 

[Darth Caedes]

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport.

He felt his stomach wrench and quiver as the man took a step closer. He couldn't help it. Even with the smile across Nejaa's face, what he really felt was fear. So much fear, to the point that his head hurt. The force, like layers of uncomfortable wool, wrapped around him as if to protect him from Dante's own oppressive energies. A hand, quick as lightning, and a faster draw than even most masters of the order grabbed at one of the two lightsabers across his belt. He didn't activate the blade, but held it up as if to warn Dante that he was prepared to defend himself, should he need it. Dante didn't seem to fear a thing. When they had first met, the monster of a man had killed without remorse, yet spoken of the dark side from a different point of view. One of excellence, and control, not from a point of darkness, but from a point of logic. Of course, it sounded as though it were mere sith lies, but, for some reason the idea had stuck like a bug in Nejaa's mind.

More so, over the years, the idea had shaped his relationship with the force, and learning how to use it through logic. How to focus the dark, without dimming the light. Of course, he could hardly claim to be a master in any area of the force, which remained a great mystery to the child. When Dante turned, and began to leave, his voice trailing off as he spoke of their next meeting, Nejaa's face began to shift and change, relaxing back into his human form, the more comfortable of the faces to wear. Only then did he realize he hadn't been breathing for almost the full encounter. A booming exhale, followed by a powerful inhale until he evened out once more.

Mid Rim;
Perlemian Trade Route;
Anzat Spaceport;
Meeting Point.

Nexu's Claws Inn, room 1341. Nejaa never went there, he had decided not to go before Dante had even left. At first, he was sure of the decision, though as he neared his spacecraft and debating leaving the world, his resolve began to weaken and crumble in temptation. The force was violent around him, as if struggling with the same internal argument as he. But, it wasn't until he could actually see the Sith Infiltrator that he took a slower step, followed by stopping completely. Nibbling his bottom lip and hugging himself with the oversized Jedi Robes, he looked around as if to see if anyone was judging what was in his mind. As if he felt exposed, even here in the lonely chamber. Dante had certainly changed, as if he had lost his edge, and grown softer. At least, in physical body, this was what Nejaa received, though the force spoke of other stories. Where before Nejaa had sensed some form of duality, some feeling of positivity, there was now an astounding power. Pitch black power, untamed, and still very much alive. It had scared him then, and continued to do so now.

But it was an addiction...

Dante would feel no presence of the force lingering outside. He would hear no footsteps to be mistaken for Nejaa's, as no one came. At least not for hours, and when the knock on Dante's door came, it did not come from the Jedi's knuckles. Instead, a droid, a droid which looked incredibly basic in terms of programming. A simpleton, to say the least, with minimal uses to be sure. That droid acted as substitute for the young male, and gave only one gift to the older man, now with black hair. A com-unit. Small, and with only one contact uploaded. Upon exploration of the device, Dante would also find a tracking unit attached to Nejaa's ship, essentially giving the man permission to follow him. But they needed to leave this place if they meant to convene. He was, after all, of the Jedi Order.

[Exit; time for a new topic.]

[member="Dante Zankar"]