Wrongs Darker than Death or Night

[Micah tol Powl]

Spoiler

OOC Notes
Nar Shadda is Red Ravens territory. Permission received from [member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] for the events in this thread to take place within RR space.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WPpDyIJdasg[/youtube]​

N A R S H A D D A

It was difficult to believe that, only a few hundred years ago, the Smuggler's Moon had been Vongformed.

The smog rolled in deep. The smell of waste creating a distinctly rank odor in the air. The walls of the buildings were scoured with running stains of the mineral deposits left behind by the slightly acidic rain which returned pollutants and chemicals to the ground. The moon was once again becoming one giant, sprawling metropolis, building layer upon layer of industry as it expanded outward and upward. It was like someone took the ghettos of Coruscant and deposited them here. The entire planet was one giant Red Light District, through which factories, industries, and housing snaked and intertwined in one incestuous knot, tied together by greed, filth, and disease.

It was a world sick with sin.

It reminded him of home, actually.

The Seinar Star Courier had come into the system under a false transponder that painted the electronic image of a vessel under a neutral banner; the Pearl of Yavin, registered out of Lothal. Nar Shadda had a reputation for not caring who did business there. It was controlled by a crime cartel known as the Red Ravens. How they had wrested it away from the Hutts was nothing short of an organized crime mystery, but the Smuggler's Moon was frequented by angels and demons alike. Traders, merchants, and companies from both the Republic and the Sith did business on Nar Shadda, and the Ravens weren't likely to even take note so long as they got their cut.

Now, the Primeval? That tended to warrant some attention, so the Equinox was encroaching upon the moon as a wolf among the sheep. On a break from his classes at the Levantine Academy, it was nice to get out of the ridiculous uniform and shift into something more comfortable for him. Not an article of clothing so much as a state of mind. Being a student was difficult for how it required tact and diplomacy.

He hadn't killed anyone since the assignment to Ascension1. There was a darkness there, inside of him. It spoke to a side of himself which he had held in check, allowing personality to cover up the baser instincts and true nature that had been birthed from out of cesspools so very much like this one.

He was a predator.

A true hellspawn, reviling in the blood of his fellow man and forging from out of that sanguine mystery a power unlike anything born from mortal imagining. A killer who had fought his way out from under the crushing poverty of the ghetto through the calculated murder of innocents. And he'd been able to do it, to survive, because he had died a long time ago. The moment that his parents had abandoned him to a childhood in a dumpster, he'd been written off as dead.

Strange, how being dead could make someone feel so alive.

For the novice, it could be frightening to experience the sensation that was the Dark Side of the Force. It was fire and ice. The visions it invoked could create the dizzying impression that you might be someone else. Something else. A beast, a creature of insatiable rage, dwelling in the shadow of the soul.

It wore his flesh as though a mask.

It spoke to him. Never consciously. It wasn't a force that existed to commune or reason with, it merely was. And it would fight to ensure that it was. Those were the moments when it spoke to him. When his control slipped, his mind wandered, or his resolve gave way to impulse.

It was a wild dog on a leash, pulling against its chains in every effort to free itself.

From morality. Humanity. Reason. Regret. Any number of sins which the Sith would use to plague their lives with guilt, or else justify their divorce from anything human.

It was speaking to him now. Whispers which summoned to mind any number of dark deeds...

There was death here. Close... closer now.

Emerging from out of the bulb-shaped section of the Star Courier, the boy was once again dressed in the plain, white tunic. The hem of the jacket draped across the thighs, sweeping behind him as the blue-skinned youth made his way from out of the ship and into the smog of the city. The rats around the space port were not so much of the animal variety as they were alien. A pair of vermin in particular held the young Pantoran's attention, an Aqualish and a human coming toward him as the boy made his way from the docking bay.

The human had a vibroknife on him. One he was trying to conceal by holding the base of the handle and hiding the blade inside of the sleeve of the tattered, dirty jacket that he wore.

The Aqualish was window dressing. A thug. Muscle, and not worth even that.

As he sensed the coming tides of darkness, the child had a hard time biting back the smirk. As the boy quietly walked passed, the Aqualish swung his shoulder out to check the smaller Pantoran. It was a solid catch, the white robed boy staggered as he kept his footing.

"Oy, oy."

They were laughing.

Finding his balance, the boy stood there, his back toward the two. In his mind's eye, he could see the human drawing the vibroblade from out of its makeshift sheath, holding it behind his back as he beckoned toward the youth in whatever sadistic game they thought to play. "You should apologize when you run into someone, isn't that right Quando?"

A smile slowly crept across the child's face. A palpable cold radiating from him as he slowly turned to face the two offended gentlemen. The smaller of the pair actually took a step back at the sight of the boy's dead gaze.

He harbored no ill will toward them. Nor was he feeling particularly sadistic. No, this was Boo at his most evangelical. He would introduce them to the worship of Balagoth, and claim their souls for the darkness.

For without darkness, they would not recognize the light.

As the smell of blood and the first scream shattered the stillness in the polluted air, the boy though... Nar Shadda reminded him a lot of home, actually.

Spoiler

---
1 a reference to events contained in That Is Not Dead Which Can Eternal Lie...

[member="Catalys Maijora"]

 

[Catalys Maijora]

When agents did travel together they were never actually quite 'together' and in this case Catalys had landed in his own starship about a klick west of Chiyo's landing zone. So for the most part, whatever the kid got himself into until they met up would be his own gamble. It an odd concept to fight alongside someone who couldn't even be classified as an adult but in some ways there was a benefit to his youth; it was unexpected. In surprises, disguises, and unexpected circumstances an assassin was benefited.

Only if the Umbaran could say the same for himself. He was tall, had the marks of a soldier, and more importantly was not prone to being diplomatic. He actually had been here before, on Nar Shaadda, he captured a Jedi and a shipwright here.

The smell, the sights, the sounds -- they were just the way he left them. One thing was different, however. There was a lack of Republic presence which may be due to the fact this world was no longer in Republic territory but instead a mostly independent world being extorted by the Red Ravens criminal syndicate. Another familiar presence, actually, because it was due to him that a war between The Primeval and Red Ravens even began at all when he kidnapped two of their more important members.

With that in mind it wasn't [member="Boo Chiyo"] he would worry himself with... In fact the kid should be more cautious towards Catalys than himself.

Taking his steps the Umbaran walked down the alley to which his landing pad lead and from there he entered the main street and headed to the meeting point where he expected to find his little blue friend.

 

[Vria oximraesiuth]

Nvm I was asked to leave.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

The young Pantoran was whistling casually as he made his way down the haze of smog which obscured the main thoroughfare of this quadrant of the smuggler's moon.

He held the vibroknife in one hand, casually flipping it up into the air as he walked. He'd catch it by the tip, or by the handle, then flip it back up into the air. It was a rather cheap blade. Something recovered from a second-hand store or else poorly repaired to keep it working. He'd taken off the body of the human he'd killed. Which, that had been an amusing, if disappointing, dance. After so long, the young Pantoran had been hoping for something more interesting to entertain him.

So what was he going to do with this?

As if in answer, the azure-hued boy raised his eyes and found himself gazing up at an Umbaran. A rather creep-tacular species. Telepaths. Mind-karks, the lot of them. The youth frowned as he came to a halt and looked over at his contact. He hadn't worked with a partner before. He'd never had need of one, and he didn't particularly believe that he needed one now.

But, that wasn't his decision to make.

"-tt-" the violet haired boy uttered, a click of his tongue expressing both greeting and frustration at the situation presented by this Umbaran. He didn't need a partner. And he didn't need a babysitter.

And he damn sure didn't need someone karking around in his head.

The vibroblade came up, and back down. The blade gleaming in the artificial light, the neon illuminated fog glinting as the knife went up a second time, before the youth snatched it from out of the air and casually flipped it over to the other agent.

A gift.

...of course, if the Umbaran wasn't quick enough, that was going to hurt.

Boo was betting that the man would be able to catch it easily, though perhaps the gesture was in some ways a test of that theory. If he was going to have a babysitter, then the Pantoran expected nothing less than a capable agent. And if an eleven year old street rat could have caught that knife, an agent of the Bleeding Sun had better be prepared to do better than that.

In any case, the boy stuck both hands down into the pockets of his white trousers, turning his back to the other agent as the child started toward the hotel where reservations had been made for their stay overnight. The reservations were under a false name, of course. An arrangement made by their contact on Nar Shadda. The same who had provided the information that was being used to set up this operation.

The youth didn't wait to see if the Umbaran was following or not. The child could have cared less if the man slept in the dumpster or in the beds of one of Nar Shaddas many brothels. As for himself, the boy was looking forward to a mattress softer than the padded brick he had on the Equinox. And maybe a refresher that he could actually turn around in without smacking against the walls.

And hot water. He couldn't forget hot water.

You would think that any species with the technology to achieve hyperspace would have working hot water heaters. The reality? Not so much, no.

If the other agent followed, then they could discuss the operation tomorrow morning. And if the Umbaran went his own way? Then the Pantoran would carry out his orders without him.

Either way, tonight Boo was getting a hot shower and a full night's rest on a real bed.

And tomorrow, something wicked this way comes.

​

[member="Catalys Maijora"]​