Walk Down Memory Lane (Open)

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Saleucami was hardly the most pleasant of worlds in the estimations of the general public in the galaxy. It was dim, and most of the surface was barren. However, life was prevalent in the calderas of the planet, dips formed by dormant volcanos. It provided ready thermal energy to tap, and it allowed those locations to flourish with life.

As it happened, this wasn't the first time Naraka had been here. The last time had been a decade? Maybe a bit more. The Togruta Sith Master didn't have a good sense of time, a side-effect of being alone in the wild for so long. It wasn't as if she wore a watch or followed a strict schedule.

The Togruta woman walked barefoot through a dusty street in the outskirts of the settlement. Her Sith-issued shuttle was left behind at the tiny docking port, as this particular caldera was rather isolated and possessed a small port.

Naraka came to a stop and looked at her destination. It was a large blue house, decrepit, and in shambles. There were brambles and weeds choking up the front lawn, and it was silent and gloomy. She could remember a time when it was very different though.

The paint had been fresh, and every day she'd tended to flowers in the planters in the front. They'd grown in large quantities, brilliants reds and yellows, vibrant and fresh. She'd tended to them personally every morning before meditating in the warm sun, sitting on neatly trimmed grass.

Everything had been so peaceful and tranquil. Dervin had dealt with all the money and the groceries, and Naraka had been left with the duties of tending to her apprentice's training. She'd watched the Twi'lek boy grow into a strapping adult, taking him and shaping him into her own instrument. She could feel the ghostly memories, of his hands caressing her breasts, his eyes watching her in the morning, and the telekinetic hold on her throat when he'd tried to kill her.

She'd punished him, and dearly. He'd paid for his impudent treachery.

What had become of the Rutian boy after that, she didn't know. His fate was closed to her, just another of the mysteries she couldn't answer.

All she could do was remember as she stared at the ramshackle building.

After long minutes, Naraka stepped into the yard and lowered herself to her knees, plucking weeds with her bare hands, cleaning up the place she'd once lived as if she were going to live there again, even though she was destined to leave it in a few hours, or days at the most.

Somehow, she felt it only mattered that she try.

[Juzt]

Simo, hated this damn rock, it was far too dry and arid for his tastes. However, he could not bare hanging around Spearpoint Headquarters for much longer without a break. The people rubbed his green skin up the wrong way. Treating him as if he were a trooper in some army, while they took on some fools crusade of being noble pirates fighting for the Republic. Simo could not stand Idealism in all its forms. The Rodian detested sympathisers for any cause, beliefs of that nature made the believers reckless and foolish. Simo, was distrusted and disliked by most of the erstwhile, Ethan Morelli's command. His ability to feign indifference and make even his compliance with orders sound like a challenge, wore thin on the people he was forced to work with. This was a break everyone needed.

However, it was a challenge Simo was a Rodian of almost no vices, all he cared about was money and his own skin's survival. Everything else was secondary, though perhaps one vice could be a certain lust for killing. Not that he would ever confess such to himself or anyone else, but on a certain subconscious level, death fascinated and intrigued him. However, beyond that the Rodian never got involved, with females or spice or Alcohol or even Corellian sweets. People found him hard to get used to, as he showed little emotion beyond a general irritation with everyone round him. The world could crumble and Simo would give the image of calmness.

That was a remarkable truth for even now, as the long limbed Rodian's feet pounded the ground bringing up little plumes of dust, as he chased a terrified human who was stumbling and running as fast as he could away, not hint of emotion was on Rodian's face. It was strange that after all that time couped up with Spearpoint, his idea of shore leave was a good bounty.

Perhaps there was some Pyschological reason for this? Not enough love as a child, some traumatic experience. Simo did not really care either way he just knew that he was both good at what he did and that he enjoyed it, how many workers shuffling in and out of factories could say that? The Human seemed to be closing in on some decrepit hut painted rather tastelessly in blue. Simo tired of the running, not that he was stretching himself unduly. He stopped, took a blaster pistol from his large green coat, and calmly took a deep breath and pointed it at the man. A loud shot later and the man had a hole in his leg.

Simo, lazily walked over to the man who was trying to pull himself up on the walls of the house. Simo checked the blaster, it needed reloading, he calmly stopped mere feet from the man, and pulled out more blaster packs. The man reached for a blaster of his own, Simo kicked him hard to the ground and with his newly loaded blaster, put another hole into the poor guy's head. “A job well done.” he said to hims self mildly in Rodese.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka was halfway through the weeds in the front yard when she sensed other presences coming, and she heard a shot. It was the distinct sound of a blaster being fired, and her attention was captured. Where there was danger she found interest, and the Togruta woman straightened and walked around to the back yard where the sound had come from.

About halfway there, she heard another blaster shot and turned the corner to see a Rodian standing over a newly dead body. Instantly her mind strayed to the plethora of possible reasons.

There were so many reasons for murder. The most delicious were personal reasons, such as quarrels and feuds. However, this, to her, smacked of more impersonal reasons. Perhaps an assassination or contract killing. Yes, this man's motives were clearly mercenary in nature, as she couldn't sense any special delight or satisfaction in him.

Naraka looked at the body. Human, and young. He had sandy blonde hair and a pale complexion, marred by a blaster wound in his forehead. His eyes were open and eternally marred by fear.

The Togruta woman crossed over to the body and knelt by it, closing the corpse's eyes before she stood again, surveying her work. He looked a little more at peace now, and she felt like she'd carried out charity.

She wasn't evil enough that she felt that wasn't a good thing. She still took a little pride that she'd had some decency and compassion. Ashla would have been proud of her in that moment. That thought alone satisfied her.

If she could have named any one feat to bring her joy, it would have been making her mentors proud. Without a doubt, that was the most gratification she could receive. There was no higher ambition. No principalities or powers could compare.

Naraka sighed.

"I hope it was worthwhile," She said softly, still staring at the dead man, though her words were addressed to the Rodian.

[Juzt]

Simo remained absolutely still as the Togruta, came and closed the eyes on the human. Outwardly his face remained still, but his hand gripped his blaster a little tighter, especially when he noticed two lightsabers hanging from her belt. That made him think Jedi, but her mode of dress made him think pleasure slave. She was certainly an unusual woman. For the moment, she seemed more curious than hostile.. Simo lowed his blaster but did not holster it.

His multifaceted red eyes, swivelled over her form. She seemed to be attractive, as far as Simo cared about such things, he ignored her for the moment, and walked past the search through the Human's clothing. His weapon was expensive and showy, but more than a little useless. The pockets contained and Identity card, that marked the man as 'Niuk', Simo checked this carefully.

“Yes defiantly the right one.” He muttered in Rodese.

Simo also found a few credits, and what looked like a picture of his family, two small children were prominently featured on it. Simo threw the thing away without a second glance and pocketed the credits. Simo, then glanced at where the picture lay on the ground, he stepped over the man and picked it up, after all it may come in useful as evidence that Simo had killed him as there he doubted Niuk would have given this picture up willingly. He looked at the Togruta woman, she had said something....

Switching to the more easily spoken Huttese he said “Worth it, yes it is most certainly worth it. I am promised good payment for this. Hmmm I wonder what he did?” He shrugged his shoulders, and stared to depart the scene.

He looked over his shoulder at her for a moment. “I would not suggest hanging around madame.” He said in a surprisingly polite voice.

“I doubt the security Forces here get to make many arrests and if your hanging about here, well....”

He ran his fingers over the spines on his head for a moment, and his antennae twitched a sure sign that he was thinking. “Unless of course you inform the authorities yourself and try and get me arrested, in which case I had better go yes?”[/color] He spoke in a level robotic way, with no emotion, almost as if he was asking the way to the nearest starport, or commenting on the Weather

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

The Rodian said something in what Naraka assumed was his native language, and then moved on to what she knew was Huttese. As it happened, she spoke neither, being fluent only in Togruti and Basic. However, two could play at his little game.

In fluid and lilting Togruti, the Sith Master went on and on, certain he couldn't understand her.

"I bet you're rather proud of yourself for being so mercenary. I'd judge you, but that would make me a hypocrite. It's not as if I haven't killed before, but never for something as trivial as money."

The Togruta woman sighed and folded her arms over her breast, fixing a rather sad look onto the Rodian.

People disappointed her. Killing was supposed to be personal, something intimate, and often a little romantic. Just dispassionately killing someone for money seemed so cold and stark, and she was not such a woman. She was passionate, and while she killed upon orders, she made them personal kills.

She savored them, and cherished the bond between hunter and prey.

"Love of money is the root of all evil, as we say on Shili," Naraka concluded, still in Togruti.

While the statements were heart-felt, she had no expectation they would be understood, and no intention to translate them. After all, she'd only done this to prove to him how annoying it was to have someone speaking in a language one didn't understand.

[Juzt]

Simo, listened to her babble on for a few minutes. Maybe she had not understood him. However, Simo was conflicted between his sometimes underdeveloped curiosity and his urge to get away from the scene. The curiosity made a surprise win, as he reasoned they were out in the middle of no where and I would be likely sometime before the body was found. Simo thought for a moment, this was probably going to mean speaking Basic. Simo hated speaking Basic with a passion, being a Rodian and not having a mouth in the way many species did, he found the sounds hard to form and as a result spoke with a strong accent and a lisp. Simo felt that this made people take him and other members of his species not at all seriously so he liked to minimise his use of the language where possible.

He said quietly “Who are you mith?”

He quite wondered what she was doing out here in the middle of no where. Maybe she had some connection to the man. Certainly the way she handled his corpse and how her speech seemed irritated, made him wonder if this was the case.

“I wonder what you are doing here? A friend of hith maybe?”

He looked her over with a little more scrutiny this time, he supposed many would consider her attractive. Simo supposed in a way he did to, but he was generally indifferent to women and resistant to their charms, well except one but that was more of a motherly relationship. She was certainly no mother. Simo supposed many would see him having no friends, and his lack of sexual interest as strange but to Simo he was with the Jedi on this attachments were dangerous. Emotion was dangerous. Never ever let them know that they hurt you or that you care about things. It was best not to care so they had nothing to hurt, even the most basic bullied child knew this though it was harder to practice rather than preach. Simo was pretty good at it however, he supposed a Force user would gather more than an ordinary person but he found they struggled sometimes to.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

The lisp was a little unexpected, but Naraka didn't laugh. It was still Basic, and that was what she'd wanted. Now they could engage in a conversation.

"My name isn't important," She said dismissively, with a wave of her slender, red-skinned hand. There was no need to give it out, either her real name or her Sith name. Arming some random bounty hunter with information on her wasn't really appealing.

Next he asked if she was a friend of the dead man, and she resisted the urge to lie, to say yes. She could make him frightened that way, and she could feast off of his fear. Indeed, it was a little tempting to cause a conflict with him for no other reason than that she could, but that wasn't in her nature.

For a Sith, Naraka was remarkably even-keeled, not seeking out conflicts or fights as a rule, and only engaging in ones she could win. Some might have referred to that as cowardice, though she referred to it as practicality.

"I didn't even know the man. But I know this place well. I imagine you don't, and that you have no idea about this house. It's just another passing location for you, the shrewd bounty hunter who wants to collect his reward, heedless of the very soil he walks on. I know your type."

The Togruta woman's voice was calm, but tinged with an obvious disdain. It was clear she didn't hold people like the Rodian in very high esteem.

[Juzt]

Simo, was mildly amused by this woman. She clearly disdained him something she made clear in her body language the ways she spoke and moved. Bounty Hunters were often reviled and distrusted by all sorts of people. Looking at her sabers again he wondered for a moment if she was a Jedi, but seeing how she was dressed he reappraised that. Maybe a renegade? She also claimed that she knew his type, what a remarkably arrogant thing to say. She clearly had an ego and a chip on her shoulder, she might be fun to spar with.

“You know my type do you? What a remarkable skill you must have for telling a person's character at a glance.” His voice was even, and a little sing song, giving off a completely relaxed demeanour

“Or perhapth you are thimply arrogant and have decided you are an expert in such matters. Either way it is an honour to meet you” The last part of his sentence had more than a little trace of insincerity.

“And why in the galaxy should I heed the thoil? It does not heed me. Ah but I am athuming, that this place means something to you. Theentimentality, a weakness of which I do not thuffer.”

This was not entirely true, there was her Tisha, that former leader of the Gang he was in, he always did work for her even though she was far beneath her level. He never forgot what he taught her. Though he would never admit to such sentimentality.

“You could learn something from the threwdness of a Bounty Hunter.” He spoke, in a tone no more animated or impassioned that that of some one commenting on the weather.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

So he had an attitude. She'd take note of that. What's more, she would take him down a beg. His arrogance there begged to be mocked, and she would take great satisfaction in breaking him down.

It would be much easier if she could drain his knowledge, but she could still read his thoughts, which she did quite attentively. She was rewarded by one thought when he spoke about sentimentality, claiming to be immune.

"Oh you suffer from it just as much Rodian. You can't even control your own thoughts, thinking so heavily about what was her name, Tisha? Why don't you tell me all about her?"

Her tone contained a hint of mockery. It wasn't quite blatant, but it was definitely not subtle. Her subtlety was found in verbal and actual swordplay, and not when she was working to break someone down.

"Or perhaps it would make you feel weak? Oh yes, that sentimentality you love so much is back again. What happened, I thought you were immune?"

Naraka suspected that this woman, this Tisha, was his faultline, and that on it he would crack open. Either he'd break and despair on that hinge, or else he'd fight based on it.

Either way she would be pleased.

[Juzt]

Simo, was quite annoyed with himself. The woman was a Force user and he had been a bit to casual in his thoughts. He attempted to lock down his feelings. His face went from smirking, to immediately robotic and immobile. From her words and demeanour it was clear what she wanted to do. Psychological warfare, and her opening salvo had been a good one. Simo, did not know if he loved Tisha, but she was a mentor figure to him. She had caught him snooping round her gang's operation, and had him roughed up a bit and was intrigued by his lack of emotion even when being beaten. So much so she had give him a job as runner for her gang, that had been many moons ago now. Simo felt she was probably the only person he truly liked. There were people he respected but that was a different matter, Tisha he supposed if he thought about it was more of a mother figure. She was the only thing he aloud himself to be sentimental about, well than and Corellian chocolates. Simo had rather a sweet tooth.

Simo, had also worked something else out from this woman. She was using a very obvious misdirection tactic, clearly this place did matter to her and she was simply trying to put it back on to him.

He smiled nonchalantly, “You have caught me out in a little lie, do you want your reward now or later?”

Simo then decided to ignore her completely, and wondered into the blue building. “Hmm this would have been a nice houthe once I am sure.”

He nudged one of the walls, and a bit of the rotten ceiling came crumbling down narrowly missing him. “Though not tho much now.”

He looked round at the weeds and plants coming up through the floor and walls. “Life findth a way...”

He swiveled round and shouted out the door. “Oh and Mith, call me Simo. Even if you won't give me your name, it is always a pleasure to meet someone interesting.” He then proceeded to wonder round the small house kicking the walls as if testing them. Really he was testing her to see if she would get annoyed by this behaviour. Simo, thought she was fascinating and relished the challenge or trying upset her. “You also theem to ditjlike me, that is a thame. I wonder if that is due to what I do for a living, or if you are tjimply racitht againtht Rodians like the retht of this galaxy.” He hummed quietly as he went round 'testing' the walls.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

"It once was," Naraka said candidly to the Rodian when he commented about the house. She wasn't trying to hide anything, for a few simple reasons. He didn't care about the actual facts, which meant that if she took his little approaches and met them directly, it disarmed his subtlety.

Sometimes changing the nature of the game could be quite fun.

She folded her arms and watched him as he kicked the walls like a bored child, and she realized that she wasn't particularly fond of the Rodian man. He was deliberately trying to provoke her, which she might not have minded had it not been completely foolish.

Naraka could have choked the life out of him, burnt his flesh with electricity, or simply started severing limbs with just one of her lightsabers. The fact that he was deliberately trying to aggravate someone who could gut him like a fish pulled from the sea by an angler made her almost want to laugh.

And not an amused laugh, but a contemptuous laugh.

After a moment of ambivalence, she decided to speak rather than laugh, her tone carefully neutral.

"I couldn't care less about Rodians, one way or another. I don't tend to see race outside my own attractions. And I have to say, you rank rather low as a specimen. Of course, I don't think you'd even know what to do with a woman, as you show more interest in kicking an old wall."

[Juzt]

Simo realised he was playing a very dangerous game, but there was a tiny bit of him that he would never admit to that loved the thrill of how dangerous he was being. He was basing this risk on an appraisal of her Character, yes she could probably easily crush him but if she was going to she would have done it already. She was playing with her prey, he suspected she was a Dark Jedi or some such judging by her insults so it made sense. She wanted to break him, win a psychological victory before killing him or perhaps simply leave him broken.

“A low thpecimen? Mith you wound me.”

He really did not care very much but, actually as Rodians went he thought of himself as a very fine example. He was smart, and in very good physical condition. She made some jibe about not having a clue what to do with women. She was most likely right in the sense she was describing. Simo was quite indifferent to women, he really did not see the interest. To him they were a distraction in the pursuit of the kill, again another guilty pleasure he would not quite admit to. However, there was something subconsciously thrilling about death, the light leaving someone's eyes and knowing that he had caused it.

“Your very right. I would have no idea what to do with a woman. Then again they don't interetht me, unleth there is a bounty on their heads, in which cathe I know exactly what to do with them.”

He observed her carefully, her clothes that were not really clothes at all and a generally demeanour of predatory sex appeal. “Where as I am thure you know just what to do with a man. Theveral I dare say. I wonder if there was a lack of love as a child. Not that that matters now I am thure you have more than made up for that in adult hood.”

He sighed for a moment, and stopped his tour of the walls, “Just checking to see how thtable it was, it has held up remarkably well, been abandoned for thome time I dare thay on this mitherable little rock. However, you have compenthated for that meeting and fathinating thranger is one of life's delights.... or tho I am told. I take little delight in anything.”

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka plucked a rose from a scraggly brush, and examined it as the Rodian talked, not affording him the dignity of her full attention. Really he had most of her attention, but there was no need to show him that. It was better if he thought there was benign (or less benign) neglect.

"Oh you're welcome to speculate about my childhood," The Togruta woman said evenly. "But let me save you the time."

If she'd had hair, she might have put the rose in it, resting there to make her look pretty. However, she had nowhere to display it, so she weighed her options. She could pluck out every petal and let it drop to the ground, or she could place it somewhere to wither away like all things did. Or she could keep it with her as long as possible.

Naraka continued to speak, her tone even and relaxed.

"I was born on Shili, into a nice little family of artisans. An ex-Jedi took away from home to train me, and we went to a planet called Felucia, where I was trained. However, my master left on an errand and never came back. I was left alone. Yes, it was very sad, and just take a look what it did to me."

The Togruta Sith chuckled a little, her voice both a lament and an amused tone, as if her own suffering was just a little quirky story she could recount, as if her condemnations of herself didn't matter.

"Yes, I'm an evil woman now. Twisted, sadistic. I could murder you right now, and I'd probably enjoy it. There would be no consequences either, and no one would know. You'd just disappear completely, like you were never born. So I guess we have something in common then. If we die, we leave nothing behind. No contributions, no loved ones to mourn us. And what do we have to show for it? You have money now. And I? I have nothing, just like I did when I was born."

[Juzt]

The more she spoke the more Simo, in a strange way was starting to like her. She was quick dangerous and with a strong sense of humour. She also seemed to love mental jousting and mind games as did Simo. He thought about what she said doubtless she could kill him, but he held on to the belief that she would rather play with him first rather than kill him. He smiled at the rose in her hand.

“I Don't believe in good and evil, or much of anything. I am thure evil is a phrase that could be attached to me. I have killed and tholen and lied, not that I have enjoyed it. “

A little voice popped into his head, saying “Oh but you have.”

Simo ignored his subconscious, as it was not a place even he liked to traverse too much. It was probably pointless to hide his joy for killing she would likely work it out anyway. He thought on her story, abandonment, was probably the cause of her becoming who she was thought he doubted she would tell the whole story. This was really a time for thinking on the past, how had he got here. Who was he really? A lonely little boy bullied by his older brother and his gang of friends? The little boy who learned to turn off his emotions to an extent and got beaten up outside a cantina. It was hard to know life, changes so dramatically and quickly.

Money, was all he had money? It was all he trusted. He trusted no one at Spearpoint, he had never trusted anyone he worked for or with except Tisha. Simo took very little joy from the Galaxy that he would freely admit to. It was an emotion after all and that was weakness. He did not drink, he did not fraternise with the opposite sex. About all he truly enjoyed doing was killing, and maybe those Corellian Chocolates he was fond of. A definite guilty pleasure.

“What do we have? Chocolates and thweets are nice, and even though I don't like to admit it killing has a certain appeal beyond money, if I am honetht.”

She would enjoy killing him? “I am not thure you would enjoy killing me too much. I rather think you like your prey to dangle and thqueal, or perhaps develop an impotent anger, I am afraid in thuch thakes I would be a disappointment.”

he looked at her carefully, appraisingly. “You have a ready wit, intelligence and Charm. All useful toolth to have.” It was not intended as a compliment, certainly not in the way Simo understood them. It was more of a statement of fact, she clearly had all of those things. Simo had some himself, except charm perhaps and he respected her skills.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

"Oh, I could make you squeal," Naraka assured the Rodian. "You'd whimper and scream, begging for mercy if I wanted you to. However, I really don't think you're worth the effort."

The Togruta woman scrutinized him very carefully, looking at his eyes and his face, and reaching out with the Force to feel him, to sense him as best as she could. She was bout to make her guess.

"You wear a mask around others. Your wit and disinterest is a facade you use to keep other people away from you. I think you're afraid of getting hurt, and you're afraid of intimacy. You don't trust anyone, and you don't want to trust anyone."

After another long second of silence, Naraka looked away, confident in her appraisal, twirling the rose in her fingers. A thorn pricked her, and she stared at it.

Was she afraid of trusting as well? Was she afraid of getting pricked? Perhaps. Sith weren't trustworthy, and she didn't want many knowing about her secrets. Her past was hidden to them, and when she mentioned it, she trivialized it. The last time she'd been honest with someone was...

Adri'van. Her Dark Master had been like her mother, and she'd known every secret and shred of information about her student, and Naraka had felt safe. There was nothing to hide from her.

But Adri was dead now, and she had no one. Dervin knew her best, but she didn't trust him. He was an acquaintance, and she wanted something more substantial than that.

"Time to face the truth Simo. You and I can either try to change for the better and become heroes, die and be forgotten, or we can become monsters. There are no other options."

[Juzt]

He smiled faintly at the idea of her making him squeal and beg for mercy. He doubted very much she could, oh she could leave him in excruciating agony no doubt but Simo had learned that in torture emotional or otherwise it was the fear and despair and anger that sustained the attacker. It was that which fed their own sense of pleasure in performing such acts. The way for them to stop hurting you, was to behave like you did not care what happened shutting down the emotional centres of the brain. Without that emotion feeding their psyche they either were going to finish you quick or let you go. There is nothing more infuriating than some one who does not care what you do to them.

What Simo found more disturbing was her analysis of him. It meant some of his control measures had failed but then she was a Force user, who knew what she could rip from his head. It was true indifference was a mask a comfortable and effective facade for him to use. Though recently his façade had worn thin with all that had happened, no long being able to work in most parts of the Galaxy and being forced to work for an organisation, who while paying him well he distrusted and despised. What could he do? He could not lie to her what would be the point she knew most of the story already.

“You are perfectly correct. It has proven an effective tactic before. Why thould I trust anyone? Everyone is a potential enemy, betht to keep what you know in your head letht it be used against you.”

She pricked her hand on the thorn of the plant, his antennae twitched just a little, the Rodian version of a raised eyebrow. Rodians had a good sense of smell and he could detect the faint irony taste of her blood on the air, it sent adrenaline down his spine in little short bursts. Nothing quite like the smell of blood for swinging a body into action. Simo kept perfectly still anyhow, as she muttered some regretful rubbish about changing for the better. After all what was better?

He snorted a little his first outward trace of genuine emotion in this conversation.

“Heroth and monthers? Are we living a fairy thory, a fable? Brave knights rethcuing a Printheth from the cathle of the Dragon on the hill? It is amathing how this thuff exithts in all rathes, this thentimental nonthense. There is no good or evil, there is you, me, this planet and every other utheleth hump who drew breath.”

The Rodian was getting oddly animated about this issue, it annoyed him more than a little. “Everyone even the most famous of uth will turn to rustht and ash, and be forgotten eventually. Good and evil are jutht conthtructionth in our heads that we invent to make our lives theem more meaningful. We act ath if there is some rightneth in the Universe by which everything can be judged and there just ithn't. Live life however you choose because in the end it doeth not matter.”

His face had gone hard and stony, and a battle was going on between a fire in his mind telling him to let loose to correct what she had said that he thought was wrong, and a cold part of him annoyed that he had shown any feeling at all.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

"You and I know that," Naraka said. "But society doesn't."

While she didn't exist in society per se, the Togruta Sith was still keenly aware of it, like someone from the Core Worlds might be aware of a foreign culture in the Outer Rim. She didn't even hate it really, it was just that it had no power over her.

"So while I might do something for my own interests and be neither good nor bad, to be remembered in their world, I have to do something more. For people like us to leave a legacy, we have to fulfill a role."

Naraka glanced at the rose, and tucked it between strips of leather in her garments, smiling appreciatively at the flower before she got back to this trifling little philosophy discussion.

"You have to be loved or hated to be remembered, and to do that you have to play by society's rules. I don't, so I expect to die alone and be forgotten quickly. But if you want to be remembered, then consider playing the game."

With that, Naraka turned, and her bare feet carried her back to the front yard, where once more she resumed plucking weeds and casting them into a pile, focusing in on the trivial little work.

She hummed softly as she gardened on her knees, peripherally aware of the Rodian still, but not really focusing on him. As far as she was concerned, they were done.

[Juzt]

Simo, guessed he should not have been surprised. The woman felt the need to be remembered, Sith and other dark Force users often seemed to talk about Legacy. Some of the more realistic ones who realised they could not live forever, they wanted to be remembered for ever, or at least as long as there were sentient beings. Simo did not feel like he particularity wanted to be remembered, if he was fine but if not when he was dead he would exactly be in a position to care. He just wanted to live his life the way he chose, a feat few achieved and Spearpoint was restricting that. He sighed softly

She had moved away to tend the garden it seemed like getting the weeds out of that mess would be a nightmare and that she would be fighting a loosing battle. The same with a repair of the house, yet she seemed intent on restoring it. Simo shook his head at the useless sentimentality of it, then Tisha swam into view again. Was it not for the sake of sentimentality that he helped her out, for a nominal fee or even nothing sometimes. The people she dealt with were way beneath a Bounty Hunter of his standard but yet he still interjected. He supposed in some slightly baffled befuddled way he loved her but he was not sure on that score, and sometimes it felt nice to rekindle the memories of being a small time gang member in her care. The dark tattoos that traced his head and neck were proud reminders of a time when he had no money, his family despised him, and he did questionable things for a few credits. Yet despite all of that he remembered those times fondly, running from the Police and security forces, the camaraderie of the gang, shaking people down, and even killing his own brother. Those had been good times.

Could he recapture that with Spearpoint?He supposed when the Republic were re-alerted to his presence in their space, and he made too many enemies in Hutt Space, Simo could have gone to the Sith Empire for work. However, a ragtag group of mercenaries who in many ways stood for things he did not believe in, who he had been sent to kill the leaders of had seduced him with the chance to run with others again. Have that camaraderie even a limited and slightly antagonistic way.

The Rodian smiled genuinely, looking on the woman. He was disappointed not to have found out her name, as he rather liked her in a strange way and hoped one day to see her again. He reached his hand into the long green coat he always wore, and pulled forth a card with his details on. He tossed it, he landed in the flower bed between her working hands.

“This was good fun, I would like to do it again thometime. Of courthe if you ever need anyone killed give me a call, I am very reathonable ethpecially to preferred cuthomers.... Good day.”

He left without looking round to see if she picked it up or even to hear any response. He took a deep breath once outside the the hutt and took a slow leisurely walk back to his ship. After all he had had a good day.