No Country For Old Jedi (Dire)

[Poludnica]

Ambient [/b]

The soft glow of the datapad danced across her oval face; she reached up and rubbed her eyes before turning the display off. Silent curse escaped Danica's lips. Devon wanted the data from the trip to Naboo. A trip the girl couldn't forget even without helpful nagging from this wretch. And it was so close, pushing the assassin from her mind. ”F*ck it!” She yelled this time aloud, causing a driver to hesitate. The man knew how volatile his boss could be and held back any questions, patiently waiting for the onset of rage to pass. Unfortunately he was out of luck this time.

”Take me back to the gallery.” Danica ordered abruptly, kicking the seat before her. The driver jerked surprised but didn't complain. He had some semblance of survival instinct and just turned the speeder around. Through the rest of the trip back to the Sah'c District the woman spent chewing on a quiet rage that boiled within her. The last week was a horror for her. Unable to push away the guilt and yet fondly remembering the assassin who had caused the whole carnage, Danica lost many hours of sleep every night.

The cab came to a halt and the woman stepped out, feeling cold wind rushing toward her. The bottom of her coat billowed around her legs as she looked for keycard to the gallery. Why the stupid thing got lost so often? If Cassius wasn't comatosed, Danica would think it was another of his tricks to make her life miserable. Finally the plastic, rectangular shape of a passkey. ”I will call you , when I need you.” The woman called out to the driver who relaxed visibly and nodded. Without paying the man any more attention, Danica pushed the doors open.

A simulated twilight settled over the alabaster interior of Cashmere Gallery, Liv & CO new hotspot for the wealthy and important who liked to watch expensive art from all around the Galaxy. . Located off the main Sah'c artery it was quite quiet with lackadaisical atmosphere, while successfully catering and appealing to high society. Danica's pricing was a bit over the top, but it did have the most wanted effect of discouraging any poor lot from infesting the ambiance with their filthy presence.

Sound of expensive high heels echoed in the empty walls of the gallery. The most expensive exhibits were locked away in the safe but most stayed outside all night. Mon Calmari sculptures, modern pieces of human avant garde  and relics of ancient civilization rarely anyone remembered. Hum of a ventilation picked up once the doors closed. With few movements on her datapad Danica deactivated security droids and walked toward the office in a back of the room.

Strange sense of anxiety began to grow in the woman. A nagging feeling at the back of her skull. She turned to look over a display protected by thick glass and sensors rigged to call in law enforcement whenever someone would touch it without deactivating them with a proper code. Within the case rested a small icon rested. It was a tempera painting of primitive Sith, when they had been only a barbaric species, before the Great Schism. It was almost laughable for how little Danica had acquired it, the previous owner thinking it to be fake. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Feeling a pang of pride and satisfaction at the memory of her father proven wrong about this piece, the woman resumed her walk. The dark thoughts from past week were clouding her judgment, causing this silly worry. There was no one here or the droids would react after all.

[Dire Wolf]

(It'll be a post before my guy comes in. This is an npc dj)

"What's wrong, little angel. Are you nervous?" An unstable voice came from behind the corner of a hallway. Before then his footsteps were as silent as a whisper, but after he spoke the heavy foot falls of his boots were actually audible. Not long after the little question was posed, the tall and wiry man rounded the corner. His long purple hair was disheveled and dirty, his expensive clothes filthy and torn, but oddly his dress shoes were shined and well maintained. A pair of glowing red irises etched with intricate black lines peered out at the attractive young woman with malice in them. These lighted things were little more than contacts to frighten people.

"Little angel shouldn't be though, because we're not here to hurt it. We're here to take that little bit of canvas and paint of a bunch of red indians doing stuff." He took a moment, not to gauge her reaction, but to simply clear his throat with a deep and throaty half cough. After a moment of staring off into nothingness, he jumped and looked up at the nothingness. "NO! Stop it! We were getting to that part! Now, little angel, where were we? Oh yes. Thing about this painting is... people think that it..." one of his hands rose to point at the painting, "has power. Like power that we have. The stuff that makes me able to make people's wind go still. Crazy, right? I know. But here. Let us make you an offer: If you let it take it, we will not only give you zero percent of what they make off of them. Not only that, but we'll also make sure we free you from the addiction to oxygen you've suffered from for.... a long time!"

The man twitched as he spoke, and after his little spiel was done he offered her a little smile. Much like the one that a child would give a grown up when he's done something he's proud of. "Now now now, little angel... it'll be okay. We'll make it nice and slow." The almost innocent grin grew maniacal as the insane man carefully walked towards her.

[Poludnica]

Something stirred in the shadows. Danica felt a strange pull down at the core of her being, an ominous foreboding nestled in her being, betraying danger ahead. The woman gasped at the sight of the intruder. ”How...How did you get here?” She asked but her voice lacked any kind of firm tone to it. There was only fear and surprise. On that moment hung eternity. Time stood still and space contracted to a pinpoint. It was as though her senses could only focus on this man, as if his presence commanded attention.

The man had aura of malevolence around him, everything about his looks was revolting – filthy hair in strange, inhuman color, ragged clothes, smell decay and unwashed body. His eyes looked like two glowing red orbs, couldn't be natural. What is...that! The girl thought feverishly, not being able to place neither the man's species nor features. No one she had known or seen in her life.

Danica yelped in fear when the intruder spoke. He sounded like a raving lunatic, nothing in what he had said made any sense or just panic flooded her mind too the point nothing seemed coherent. She stepped back, hitting the glass display with her back. Cold glass only added to her fear induced shudder. ”Maybe..maybe we can talk about?” The human asked carefully, trying to muster all the self-control she possessed. Memory from a week before had returned but this man was not Nieraan – unlike the dark jedi assassin she had ran into few days ago, this attacker had clear intention. Serves me right for gathering Sith crap..

”You want it?” Danica asked, placing her hand firmly on the display case. ”Take it then...” She pushed the case, forcing it to fall over. Sound of shattered glass filled the spacious room, nearly deafening the woman. The icon hit the ground, breaking in half. Without waiting for any reaction from the obvious looney, the girl kicked off her shoes and made a break for the office where safely hidden an expensive blaster rested. Locked away in a wooden desk. For a moment Danica counted on a streak of luck and alarms to go off, but nothing had happened. Even in the mids of frantic run she remembered to berate her tech specialist later.

[Dire Wolf]

"Now little angel," a little innocent smile spread those cracked lips thin, "a good magician never reveals its secrets. But sure. Sure we can talk all about it. Why, we could even talk about it while it lets you see just how atrocious the snakes inside of your belly look on the outside. It'll be fun. We swear." The man began to hum some kind of cacophony as he walked casually towards the little angel.

When she asked if he wanted 'it' or not, his head tilted away for a moment and he looked at her with a genuinely surprised gaze. "No. I don't," his voice was full of sarcasm. When she put both hands on the painting, the man's unnatural eyes grew wide as it began to fall. Though he did nothing to save it. Once the artifact broke into a few pieces, the Dark Jedi simply gazed at it for a few moments. Then he began to laugh. "You think we care about some archaic doodle?" He shouted after her, "I'm not in it for the money. We're in it for the... fun!"

The man sensed that she wasn't headed for any exit, but rather some futile way to resist. As she ran, he simply walked. The heavy boots he wore fell against the floor with a loud tap that echoed from the great and spacious building. This was the perfect arena. The perfect locale to tear down another person who deserved tearing down. She was the perfect monument to be shredded apart for their amusement.

Less than a block away, a lone man stood at the street corner. A simple trench coat covered up his moderately expensive business suit and a partly undone tie. Dark circles and bags hung under his blue eyes, and his face wore the look of a man who barely knew sleep. Tyriel rarely slept when the council sent him out on a mission: it was a complete waste of time.

A deep sigh caused his chest to rise and fall as he watched the building, and how sleepy it seemed. It was a lie. In his experience the first look was almost always a lie. Within the confines of the extravagant building lie a demon, one that would consume the innocent person within. Tyriel brought in a deep breath of air before walking towards the building, his trenchcoat billowing out with a sudden gust of wind.

A dynamic entrance was necessary to save the woman inside.

[Poludnica]

That was a big mistake. Her stunt didn't really buy much time as the man wasn't interested in the icon. He was interested in tearing her asunder for whatever sick reason. Danica was sure of that and cursed whatever cruel fate had made this happen. For a moment, a mere heartbeat she believed it was a price to pay for her crime. For helping a killer and benefit from it. It nearly made the girl to give up when the last shred of rationality screamed No! in her mind. There was no fate, no god to punish 'evil' deeds. There was no good and evil – only choices and their consequences and Danica chose to fight.

The heavy steps where coming closer, forcing a cry of terror from the young woman. She hit the doors with her shoulder and stumbled inside the office when they opened. Without losing any time Danica pushed a chair and a wide display case to block the entrance. Frantically, her hands looked for a comm device and a shriek of frustration left her lips upon realizing she had left it in the cab. Careless! Careless pregnant dog! Danica's mind screamed.

Feeling tears stinging at her eyes, the black haired girl quickly opened the safe and took out a simple hold out blaster pistol. Simple but deadly. The Zeltron soldier might have been a cheating bastard but at least those lessons with him would not go to waste. She released the safety catch and pointed the gun at the doors, waiting for the intruder to stick his ugly mug through the barricade.

There was something stirring in Danica's guts. A feeling that this intruder was not some typical wacko who had nothing beside his insanity. He was indeed dangerous. Terror crystallized her blood into ice and tears of fear began to roll down her cheeks, smudging make up. ”I will kill you, sick f*cker! I swear!” Danica called out in attempt to discourage the lunatic – her voice soaked in panic.

[Dire Wolf]

The dark man gave a grin as he sensed her target: a blaster pistol. He began to roll his neck, shoulders, and knuckles. A long and loud series of pops came from his joints as he cracked them, and the look on his face shifted from dark intent to an almost merry one as he pulled a small cylindrical item from his belt. Other than hold the small cylinder, he did nothing. Paniced as she was, the girl's mind was unveiled to him. Jeron wasn't nearly skilled enough to skim memories that she wasn't thinking of from her mind, but he was close. "Why are you scared, little angel? We don't want to hurt you. Much. Just give you wings."

That was about when she screamed out that insult from the little office. His mouth opened for a second in disbelief before he looked out at nothing with slightly narrowed eyes and mouthed the words "Sick fucker?". After a few moments the creature was just outside her door, "why do you make fun of us? You don't even know us. See... that is why we're here. You people don't know how to anything but look down your nose at the lesser people. People like us. We're all nothing but ants to be squashed under your ridiculously expensive high heels." The man rounded the corner and entered the room to see her pointing a pistol at him. If she shot just then, he would easily (if not lazily) evade the bolt.

His face turned to one of feigned surprise, and then one of disbelief. Not because she had a gun, but more the fact that she tried to use one at all. "Careful, little angel. You might hurt something with that. We hear that they can be dangerous." Within moments the snap-hiss of a lightsaber snapped from the tiny cylinder in Jeron's hand, a soft green light eminating from the blade that was suddenly in existence. "I really hate using this thing. Not enough blood. While it can keep you alive for a lot longer, which is good, we just don't get to have any on our hands. We-"

The building began to quake and tremble violently, cutting the Dark Jedi off from his deranged monologue. Suddenly a brilliant presence made itself known to the two other inhabitants of the little art gallery, its strength and light within the perception of even the weakest Force Sensitives. It gave off warmth and comfort, but at the same time the type of fury that was reserved for the iniquitous man who stood before the pretty girl. The warm aura grew stronger as the quakes grew in intensity, until the trembling suddenly stopped and a man stood behind the Dark Jedi.

Tyriel grabbed the man by the back of the neck, lifted him up, and hurled him down the hallway as fast and hard as his Force assisted arms could throw him. It was very fast. The Dark Jedi partially sailed through the wall, letting out a loud moan as slid to the ground like a piece of wet bacon. "That... wasn't very nice papa angel. We'll have to cut both of you for that." Making it a point to ignore the Dark Jedi, the old blonde miraluka turned his face to the girl, "are you hurt?"

[Poludnica]

Fury and terror wracked Danica's frame, causing her to shake violently; unable to keep the blaster steady. The few shots missed the target by far, burning a painting of white, horned horse. Nausea washed over the woman when the creature spoke again and green light saber came to life. That explained how the man slipped in undetected. She screamed angrily at the figure and fired few more rounds at him. Danica refused to die at the hands of a filthy nut job. It was not going to happen! Tears burned her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. This couldn't be happening.

Then a tide turned with an explosion of light so bright, the woman had to cover her eyes. Sharp yelp left her lips and Danica fell back, stumbling over the desk and onto a plushy carpet. She felt stinging pain on her neck, when the skin was chafed by a harsh material. From her new vantage point, the woman watched the events unfold. It was a man...no not a man. Miraluka, his hair almost white in the pale aura of the energy that surrounded him and a blindfold. Danica blinked...There was no light, no, not physical one. It was something her eyes could...feel. The woman touched her eyelids, too shocked to do much more. There was no halo from the outburst of energy, nothing to suggest there was any perception of light and yet...

Despite the sensation gone, Danica could feel something resonating in her being. Calming and comforting but also not natural. Alien. The woman tried to pushed it away, but it wouldn't vanish. And why in seven hells there were two force users suddenly in her gallery? The crazy was flung thought the entire room, hitting the wall where already burned painting was. It fell comically on the man's head. ”What...The...” The girl looked at the Miraluka dumbfounded, too confused to even feel frightened anymore than angry.

”How..do you think I am feeling?! The as*hole tried to kill me!” She shouted out, trying to gather herself from the floor.

[Dire Wolf]

"Don't be afraid" Tyriel furrowed his brows at the young woman before him, blaster still clutched to her hands like life itself. Against the dark creature who he threw into a wall her little gun may as well have been a feather meant for tickling. Against him it wasn't even that, not that he believed she would turn it on him. He could sense the fear she felt, in fact his blind eyes could almost see the fear raging like a hurricane within her. "He's not a threat to you any longer."

The righteous man's gaze lingered on the frightened girl for a fleeting moment before turning to the miserable heap that was the Dark Jedi that attacked her. Or where he would have been, had the wretched thing not gotten up and fluttered away moments before. Tyr's voice was strong full of authority, "stay here. You're safe so long as I'm here." Tyriel then walked the path that the Dark Jedi was hurled down moments before, taking a minute to travel what he did within the blink of an eye.

Tyriel drew a deep breath in through his nostrils, held it for a moment, and released a long exhale through his mouth. While he went through this exercise, his awareness expanded outwards until it would go no further. Nothing. This Dark Jedi was trained well; having the ability to hide himself from Tyr's arcane abilities. That was when he caught it: a single speck of darkness that stuck out like a sore thumb against the compariably bright flooring. He almost instantly strode over to it, dropping to a knee once he reached it, and cautiously dipped his index finger into it.

That was when he heard it, the slight rustle of cloth against cloth, and the surprisingly quiet pitter-patter of heavy combat boots. Before he could pull his own saber, the all too familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber attacked his ears. All that he had time to do was whirl around m the force, and from the direction that the girl was looking it surely would have looked like he had been impaled. The truth, however, was a completely different story. A soft blue light eminated from his hand, swallowing the Dark Jedi's purple blade whole.

Tyr had absolutely no hope of holding the fury of a lightsaber at bay indefinately. No Jedi master can accomplish such a feat, no matter how strong or skilled he is. Instead Tyriel took all of that energy and harnessed it outwards, wrapping it around every loose object in room he thought he could lift, and some he couldn't. "What's wrong, Jedi? Couldn't feel us coming? No surprise. You Jedi are weak. Just like that girl! WEAK!" Tyriel only smiled in response, and waited until his grip on the loose objects was sure.

[Poludnica]

Through the torrential downpour of thoughts, Danica tried to gather the entirety of the situation. The Miraluka looked at her. His comforting words did little to calm down the woman though. Her fingers were still closed on the useless gun. With a growing fury the human discarded it away. Few things, however, managed to seep into her consciousness. The older male was not a threat, at least not yet which caused Danica's rage to focus on the nut job. ”Stay?” She hissed, looking at the place where dark jedi had fallen.

Without losing anymore precious time, the woman gathered herself from the floor and darted toward the desk. With a corner of her eye she could see the purple haired man getting up. He didn't seem to be injured. The girl's eyes widened in fear when she realized it was a hiss of a lightsaber that drew her attention. Danica's hands began to move faster, scurry through the various drawers until scooping a small taser and pepper gas. The only weapons she had aside from the apparently useless blaster.

There! A gleam of satisfactory smile crossed her lips but it was quickly wiped by a sight of the Miraluka being stabbed with a purple blade. She gasped, thinking it was the end. There was no one else to stop the crazed Forcer. No..No...He was alive, somehow...Danica looked at her toys thinking what they could do against such power.

The woman gritted her teeth in determination. She could have guessed it was a Jedi. A bunch of self-righteous, stuck up, pr*cks with a monopoly for right and wrong...Even the Miraluka's intervention which most likely had saved her life couldn't lessen the resentment the girl felt toward the Order. It was reasonable to help the alien though in this situation.

Oblivious to the energy gathering around her and circled around the fighting pair so to take, a good straight aim at her attacker. ”Maybe weak, but not helpless.” Danica hissed and released two probes deployed by compressed nitrogen. The electrical current wouldn't kill the man but maybe gave the Jedi advantage he needed. If her shaking hands would actually allow her to hit anything.

[Dire Wolf]

The amount of energy he took in was quickly becoming more than he could hope to manage. If Tyriel didn't act fast, the energy would short out and, at best, cause a serious amount of damage to everything around him. Including the Dark Jedi. At worst it would simply sputter out and fail, leaving Tyr with nothing more than a few layers of flesh to protect him from the purple plasma sword. The Miraluka raised his free hand up to press into the man's greasy, unclean face.

After a few moments he only smiled as he took all of the raw power he had been storing and unleashed it in the form of an invisible shockwave. The Dark Jedi turned into a blur as he flew into the ceiling, and Tyriel was about to pelt the now floating man with every available object in the room when he felt a pair of sharp teeth dig into his chest. The blonde man hadn't even had time to look down to see the wires before being assaulted with a debilitating amount of electricity. Every muscle in his tensed, seconds passed by like hours, and all that he could manage to do was fall down and twitch helplessly underneath the extreme amount of electricity.

The Dark Jedi hit the ground with a loud thud, and simply laid there for a long moment. Dazed was an understatement. After he recovered, the man shot up and sped out of the building as quickly as his still unstable feet could carry him. Jeron may have been insane, but he was far from stupid. This girl would be punished the very instant that the Jedi left her presence.

After pulling the probes out of his chest, he stood and regarded the girl with a surprised look on his face. In Tyriel's case it was a stoic look with his eyebrows barely raised. Expressive fellow, that one. "I commend your willingness to help, but trust me when I say that I will have no issues fighting this man. Are you hurt?"

[Poludnica]

The tide of force that rumbled through the office left her breathless. Danica couldn't see it but somehow she could feel. As if deep down her soul someone pulled a string, or more accurately, tore it. The girl gasped and stumbled back which of course forced her aim to change entirely. As the young woman landed ungracefully on her buttocks she realized there were things floating in the air, though only for a mere heartbeat. Everything happened too fast for her senses to catch the entirety of it. There was deafening sound of breaking glass , someone's cry and then silence disturbed only by quick, noisy steps.

By the time Danica pulled herself up from the floor -feeling scratches and small cuts on her hands from the pieces of unlucky furniture – the assailant was long gone and the Miraluka's blindfolded stare was focused on her. She noticed two darker spots on his chest, when it occurred to her that the wrong man had been tased. ”Sh*t...” The girl said breathlessly. It only added to ruining the image of a proper and high class lady. Danica's hair was a mess and overpriced cocktail dress had at least few unrepairable tears but it was the dumbfounded look on the girl's face that finalized the picture of utter chaos.

Glacial green eyes swept over the carnage. She noticed broken, ancient vases; destroyed paintings; wrecked sculptures. Unconsciously, her mind began to add numbers, calculating the horrendous amount of money that little experience had cost. A detached frown appeared on Danica's forehead as she turned to face the Jedi again. Helplessness and anger boiled in the girl's mind. It was not how this evening was suppose to look like... At the thought, verdant eyes narrowed and lips pursed in a sign of aloof displeasure.

The alien man didn't seem furious or even mildly irritated about the accidental tase but it was hard to read anything through this half-mask. Certainly his words had no anger. Maybe slight amusement, maybe not...Somehow it made Danica's own inner turmoil to increased, fueled by the reflection in half-broken mirror. The woman couldn't stand imperfection and her image now was as far from ideal as possible. ”You!” She took a step toward the Miraluka, pointing her finger at him accusingly. ”You wrecked my gallery!” A cry of frustration and anger echoed in the spacious interior. Danica felt tears welling up in her eyes as some kind of late response to the shock of the attack.”What the f*ck just happened?!” The human demanded and sniffed loudly, unable to held back incoming wave of tears.

[Dire Wolf]

"I apologize. If you contact the republic, they will compensate you for the damage." In truth, the man did feel a semblance of guilt for destroying her gallery. At the time the choice was either that, or finding out what happened when his body could absorb no more energy from the lightsaber. Either the field around his hand would dissipate, which was unlikely, or the power inside him would short out and detonate. That was far more likely, and would leave everything around him completely destroyed, him dead, and the dark jedi with wounds. Though likely not wounds grievous enough to stop him from killing the girl.

Tyriel didn't need to explain himself to this girl, though. Even if he did, she likely wouldn't understand. Some people thought he had unlimited power because he could pick something up with his brain. If only that was so."A Dark Jedi attacked you. I saved your life," the man stated the obvious not quite realizing that it probably wasn't the thing to say. "For the moment.. He'll be back. This time he'll be angry, and unless I'm there... he will kill you."

The elderly Jedi's gaze swept over the destruction that he had caused, and the massive craters in both the wall and the ceiling that his adversary had left behind. For a moment, Tyriel's face looked as if it attempted to adopt a look of sympathy, but for the most part remained stoic. That pseudo-sympathetic look vanished as quickly and awkwardly as it came before he turned to view the girl before him. Tyr spoke in as genuine a voice as he could muster, which was far from the usual cold, stoic tone he had before. "I'm sorry. I'll repay you by keeping you safe until the Dark Jedi is apprehended. After that is done, you will never see me again. The republic and the Jedi will repay you for the damage I've caused, and the trouble this has put you through."

[Poludnica]

Mumbling something about incompetent senators, Danica scoffed, her small nose wrinkled at the idea to ask the Republic for anything. Many things the young woman rejected in her upbringing but Cassius' views on the government were something they had shared. Useless and weak. The girl had little hope they would compensate anything. She stopped her tongue before it would go running about her attitudes in front of a Jedi. Instead her dark, carefully plucked brows furrowed even more.

”You are giving me a headache.” Danica sniffed loudly and tried to stop her body from shaking. Completely lost, unable to think of what to do next, the woman began to walk from display to display trying to assess the damage. It didn't even appear to her, to ask the Miraluka. After all the blind alien had just destroyed half of the Livco's gallery. For a brief second a pang of fear nestled under her skull at how Cassius would berate his daughter for this failure but then she remembered the former CEO was lying comatosed in the hospital. It angered the girl that her first reaction in such case was fear of Cassius, as if danger to her own life was less important than the old man's approval.

Her hand froze on a broken piece of Ryloth vase and fierce, green gaze turned toward the Jedi. ”Why would a dark jedi attack me? I have no idea who that was!” She insisted. The girl blanched visibly when a memory of the Firrerreo bubbled in her mind. No, that couldn't be connected... The piece of decorated clay fell on the floor when Danica's fingers turned numb from fear that swept through her. The girl shook her head, trying to think rationally.

”It was not my fault!” As if daring the Jedi to comment on this , Danica glared defiantly up at the tall figure;her cheeks and lips puffed out insolently, evocative of an angry little squirrel. Des[ite her attitude the Miraluka remained calm, even his voice grew warmer. It left the young woman baffled. Kind reaction was not something she was used to when showing her snappy attitude. Hesitation and confusion were clear in Danica's features when a question left her lips. ”What do you mean by keeping me safe? ”The thought of the pink haired creep returning was not something she looked forward too. The Jedi's company suddenly became much better idea.

[Dire Wolf]

Tyriel gave a slight nod at her second question, and thought for a moment on her first. Why do Dark Jedi do what they do? Why do people do what they do? There's no real reason for some of it, though Tyr could certainly speculate as to why the Dark Jedi picked his targets. Over the past few months the creature had been targeting the wealthy, though not just any. The most elite that were already born into money. He seemed to love taking them down to little more than an animal before killing them, or so he would guess. "I don't know why he's after you, all that I know is that he doesn't have anything pleasant in mind."

"Its simple, really," Tyriel blurted out. He almost said that since the Dark Jedi had targeted her in particular, it was very likely that he would return to finish the job that he had started. If Tyriel was there, waiting in the shadows to ambush him, then it would be a relatively easy victory. Yet again, for her sake, he lied, "I destroyed your gallery, so I owe you that much. I could leave, if you'd prefer." Civilians were strange creatures. Most didn't react well to being used as bait, and something told him that this woman was no different.

As the Jedi thought more on what she said, he began to speculate as to why she denied some supposed accusation. Had she done something to anger this man? If so, it would certainly be helpful to the both of them. "What wasn't your fault?" Tyriel wasn't here to judge Danica's past choices, but what he was here to do was uphold the law and capture or kill a serial killer. The law could forgive the girl if she assisted him in the matter at hand.

"Any insight you give me would be a great help. Which is something both of us need, once you take the Dark Jedi bent on skinning you alive into account." His voice had once again reverted back into the stoic, detached voice of the Jedi. Though she could surely feel that his mere presence was soothing and warm, not to mention one that could make even the most paranoid feel safe. That's what Tyriel was: as much justicar as he was protector.

[Poludnica]

Before she had a chance to suppress it, Danica felt the kindling flames of fear flare up in her gut. The Jedi's words stirred feeling of helplessness when she realized it was beyond her influence what this dark being had done. That it could be just a random act of chaos. She hated chaos – it made her feel weak. ”No! No! Don't leave.” The girl gasped, only after a moment realizing how pathetic and pleading it sounded. Danica blushed feverishly and pulled away few strings of hair as if this simple gesture would help her to retain some dignity. ”If...if you are sure he is coming back.” The human finished cautiously.

The woman's expression grew even darker and more worried when the Miraluka caught on the little blurp she had made. ”I...” Danica breathed. Of course this Jedi couldn't know what had happened on Naboo, yet meeting another dark jedi was a strange coincident to say the least. The woman blanched when the Jedi mentioned skinning alive. Was he doing it on purpose? Trying to make her feel bad after what had happened? ”I have a bad luck it seems. I don't know this man.” She swallowed a tight knot of fear.

”So...what happens now?” Danica resumed gathering the broken pieces. The wondered if her bodyguards would be of any use. She remembered with what ease Nieraan was slipping pass the guards. Someone who didn't use force didn't stand a chance. ”Are you staying with me? I need to call few people, my insurance lawyers....” Vivid, green eyes once again swept around the carnage , then back to the Jedi. He seemed old, even older than Cassius. Her dark brows furrowed. ”You look old for a Jedi.” Danica said bluntly, dropping any pretense of high class svaoire vivre. It was her life that was one the line after all.

Thought one thing she had to give him. There was something reassuring in his presence; it stirred uneasiness in the woman as much as tranquility. For someone so tense, so used to people cold, aloof and critical meeting a genuinely caring person caused confusion. Confusion that immediately would built a wall to keep such feelings gnawing at her. So strange...”Ow!” A sound of surprise and pain left Danica's lips, breaking the aura of calm she let herself to feel from the Miraluka. The girl looked down at a swelling droplet of blood at her fingertip where a shard of glass had pierced the skin.

[Dire Wolf]

"And you look young for such a wealthy entrepeneur." Tyriel responded with an even, stoic tone. The holovids would put every Jedi at the age of 25, handsome, and constantly battling his emotions. The truth was that most Jedi were like him: stoic, distant, and detached. It wasn't that Jedi were afraid of their emotions, it was just that they could control them. "But no, I won't leave until the Dark Jedi is apprehended."

Tyr regarded the fresh cut on the woman's finger with the eye of a doctor rather than a protector. He was far from one of the greatest healers among the ranks of his Order, but that hardly meant he had no clue what he was doing. The cut on her finger was at best superficial and at worst requiring a stitches. Either way she would survive without his assistance. At the same time, her trust was necessary to defeat this Dark Jedi. In a fair fight Tyriel would win every time, but the creature he hunted was anything but fair.

Without a single word, he squatted down to her level and gently took her hand. Tyriel's thumb pressed against the wound for a moment before lifting off to reveal that the wound had been completely healed. The man took a brief moment to wipe the blood off on his old robe before standing. His sightless gaze settled on nothing in particular as he pondered his next move. It was likely that even now, the Dark Jedi who attacked the girl was watching from some shadow. Waiting for the best time.

In order to draw him out, Tyriel would have to leave. In order to make it believable, he would have to leave without telling her his intentions. After a few moments he pulled out his datapad, typed a few things into it, and slipped it back into his robe. "And now, we wait," the man found a seat and simply rested there for a few moments, recouping from the tremendous exertion that it took to contain the lightsaber blade.

Until his data pad beeped at him a few minutes later. He looked at the thing, and then slowly rose to his feet. "The authorities found him. They've cornered him in an apartment not far from here." His voice was strangely calm and collected, despite the urgency of the situation. "This is were we part. My sincerest apologies." For using you as bait. If there were any other way, I would take it. This girl, in her own way, reminded him of himself when he was much, much younger. Angry. Short tempered. A bit of a brat. With the proper molding Danica could be forged into something that could make a great, positive difference in everyone's life.

With that said he strode out of the building, his trench coat sirring behind him as a gentle breeze caressed his skin.

[Poludnica]

”How do you know? You have no eyes.” She bit back, hurt by the remark. Not because of looking young, but the simple fact only a mall part of the wealth belonged to her truly. Vultures stockholders and Devon made sure of that. Flush of anger crept up her neck and onto pale cheeks. The Jedi couldn't know of course about Cassius and his minions but it didn't lessen Danica's distress about this comment.

Her expression was fiery as she pulled herself upright from a crouch, hesitating to let the Jedi to touch the injured finger. Danica didn't like for anyone to invade her closely guarded personal space. The knight didn't seem to be discouraged by the woman's reaction and proceeded to press his thumb to the small cut. The girl yelped, feeling pressure mixed with pain. She hissed like an angry feline but when something strange began to prickle at the tip of her finger, the girl felt warmth spreading inside of it.

For a moment Danica stared blankly at a place where, no so long ago, a cut was present. She didn't even protest when the Jedi wiped away the rest of blood with crude material of his robes. ”What the...” The act left her too dumbfounded to care if the Jedi had touched her without any permission. She could feel odd, residual sensation from the healing. As if something pleasant nestled in her stomach.

”Wait..?Wait here? I can't wait here I am...” The woman started but the Jedi didn't seem to care. He scooped out a datapad and put something in. Danica groaned softly with frustration, already wanting to slap the annoying knight whose ever present tranquil put her on edge. As a sign of her growing displeasure, the girl kicked away few loose pieces of broken sculptures.

A single beep tore the woman away from wrecking more of the art. It was a message to the Jedi. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ”Found...him?” She repeated, confused at first. ”Part?” Danica echoed again. Something was strangely off. How did he know if this was this dark jedi? He didn't talk to anyone to get confirmation. But what made the girl doubt the most...The memories came to life, memories of the dark-haried Firrerreo with sun streaked irises. If this dark jedi was anything close to Nieraan, you would need a small army to corner him. The early instilled mistrust toward the Order didn't help the matter. She might have been a simple art dealer but not a naïve one.

Without losing any time, Danica followed the Jedi, stopping only to gather the discarded shoes from the floor. The woman didn't put them on though as she was too busy running after the Miraluka. ”Hey! Hey! You aren't going anywhere, you think I am stupid? What the hell is going on?” The young human nearly stumbled over the closing doors but kept he balance. Cold wind swept over her face . ”You get back here right now! Do you think I am stupid?” Danica demanded, choking on stinging, winter air.

((Great post, gave me good stuff to work with I hope it is not a stretch she does't really trust him and doubts his intentions of leaving. ))

[Dire Wolf]

It was just then that Tyriel knew just how wrong his decision was. He was never a good liar. That was Siri. When they were children, probably no older than Danica, the girl had enough of a silver tongue to lie to Jedi Knights and Masters. The man briefly wondered how the woman did it so well, and part of him wished he had it in him to try and continue the fascade.

"I'm doing what's in your best interests, girl," the man said as he stopped and slowly turned. "Do you really believe that I would come in, save you from certain death, and leave only to subject you to the same fate ten minutes later?" Tyriel's tone had the slightest hint of amusement within its deadpan tone, as if what he said was some kind of joke. "Every second I stay here gives the man who hunts you another few moments to either run or more fully prepare. I can't watch you forever. He may move on, yes, but he will be back for you eventually. When he is, I won't be there to throw him away."

Lying and keeping the full truth from someone were two completely different things. The Jedi Master's conscience was still fairly heavy for not telling the truth, however. Lying was the easy way out, and that lead to the dark side. The only problem was that Tyr saw no other alternative then to tie her to a post and shoot the first wolf to come sniffing about. "I can either leave, and hunt this man. Or stay with you and, one day, read about you in the holonet's obituaries." "Chalk up yet another failure. No. You need to save this one, Tyriel. You need to."

"So what would you have me do? Escort you around to wherever you were going? Or hunt this man down and rid you of him for good?" If she wanted him to, the man would stay along side her for as long as he deemed sane. He did have a job to do, and there was always the chance that this Dark Jedi would try to sneak past him once complacency set in, but that was unlikely. Jeron Wrywulf, the man he hunted, was one of the most brilliant if not twisted minds there were amongst humans. He was as cunning as he was intelligent.

The logical thing to do was not try to sneak one past a man who could kill you in his sleep.

[Poludnica]

More deeply than ever Danica felt rush of emotions. Anger, surprise, fear. Clearly distressed she stopped within few steps from the Jedi. ”I have a name.” The woman snapped before even considering the meaning of his words. Only after a moment of tensed silence she responded. ”How can I know you would?” The question had a dangerous taint of hysteria. Three force users met in one week was too much for someone sheltered even if in ice cold tower. ”You wanted me to be a bait? Weren't you suppose to be protectors? Protectors my as*” Danica hissed and clumsily threw a shoe at the man. Of course it would most likely miss by far.

String of tears were already pouring down her cheeks, betraying panic and despair. ”It's unfair! I did nothing to deserve it!” Danica sniffed. This wasn't the full truth ,at least objectively. She had made killing two scums easier but they had surely deserved it. But this? Suddenly the girl felt overwhelming helplessness as it became clear that without such powers, she was but a mere victim.

It took a moment for her to calm down, long, embarrassing moment of hectic breathing and sobs. ”Don't you think it is a little obvious leaving like that?” Danica finally spoke, still choking on cold, city air. The Jedi made a good point though; he couldn't stay with her the entire time. Run away? Leave Coruscant? The mangled handkerchief was still safe in her apartment but she would have to live to get it and contact the Firrerreo. There were also her father's men; Broca, her occasional bodyguard but the man was a bane of anyone's existance.... Danica shuddered at the thought of owning anything to him.

”Screw it! Do what you want!” She yelled out. ”Screw you, your Order and the Force!” Danica threw another shoe and turned back, going back to the wrecked gallery. It was hard to tell if the woman was playing along or was genuinely upset. Or both.

The doors closed behind her. In the bright halogen light there was almost no shadows but the few that existed were pitch black. Danica eyed them warily, looking around. It seemed that only one exhibit from the main room suffered. The one she pushed herself. Slowly, the woman made her way, barefoot, toward the mangled icon.

[Dire Wolf]

The man took her verbal beating with a solemn, stoic face. Even with the poorly thrown shoes, even if one of the two did hit him in the stomach. Its force wasn't great, so it did little but bounce off and fall harmlessly to the ground. On the outside it looked as if he didn't care for this girl's sadness. As if he were nothing but a very lifelike droid, not programmed to handle such things that defined humanity. On the inside he only felt guilt for her perceiving his actions as betrayal. It made no sense to him. Staying with her and leaving when no assailant revealed himself would be the true betrayal.

Perhaps that was his role in this particular act of the play, however. To be the demonized hero who the damsel loathes, but saves her regardless. He was alright with that. Love, gifts, and glory were not for him to receive and he would feel absolutely out of place receiving any of the three. Tyriel was, and always would be, a simple guardian of the innocent people of the republic. Nothing more, nothing less. Even still, the old phrase "perception is reality" held some truth to it. If the Jedi and those within were perceived to be some shady organization with an ends justified the means philosophy, so they would be. A famous quote, "its not what I am underneath, but what I do that defines me" seemed to ring true here.

It was funny how Tyriel considered himself old and wizened, yet he still made mistakes that he could have made when he was a newly christened knight. Learned things that he felt as if he should have known for years. With even more grim look on his face, he bent down to retrieve the shoes that had been thrown at him. Once they were collected he followed her back inside the building to see that she was near the mangled Sith icon. "Your shoes," he extended them towards her, "you said before that you have a name. I don't know it, and at this point I doubt you'd be willing to give it to me. Mine is Tyriel. I promise that no further harm will come to you by the hand of this Dark Jedi, be it physical or financial."

Tyriel looked at her for a trice through his spectral eyes before he turned and began to walk off. His walk paused as he turned his head for a moment to speak one last time, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't throw those shoes at me. At least until I incapacitate this Dark Jedi." With that said he continued towards the door, his trench coat billowing in the wind.