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Post by Poludnica on Aug 22, 2014 3:45:06 GMT -5
Theme
This planet was dying. Dying in own misery and toxic wastes. Its ugly cities grew like a tumor on the rocky, dead surface. Streets were filled with hungry laborers, homeless children and indecent women that hoped for easy money. Cassius resented this place, it showed how low a human can fall – face down in the mud. No one cared about Montitia though which helped anonymity he needed. A small, shady bar on the outskirts of the planet's capital was the last place anyone would expect Cassius Liviana to spend his time. Taught long ago how to hide own status, the Livco CEO made sure his garment was neither refined nor expensive: simple grey robes fashioned roughly after the Jedi's outfit melted with the brown, steel background. There were subtle signs that Cassius didn't belong amid the poverty stricken locals, small hints hidden in the aloof, verdant gaze. Obnoxiously bright and judgmental. His features were cleanly shaved, sharp and hair neatly combed. Some around cared to notice all that, followed him with their hollow, drunk gazes until they didn't spot a small trinket hanging at his waist. Sleek and silver – the saber's hilt was simple but betrayed the owner's meticulous perfectionism. They fearfully looked away, crushed by own troubles already even without picking fights with a force user.
Bounty hunter, mercenary or a Jedi were the common peasantry guesses which suited Cassius just fine. If a press sniffed out the Livco owner, a man who posed as a legitimate businessman in the Core, meeting with a shady character his reputation would pummeled. People would get curious, investigating his Hutt connections and alleged powers only Jedi should wield. Today he was Darek, a notorious bounty hunter and the Cartels protege, leading his own morally dubious syndicate under their banner. After he had pulled away from direct interventions in the affairs his small fame certainly faded, leaving only a shadowy puppeteer that worked alongside Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta Hutts. A good decade ago more people would know him by this name that now was a mere echo. Others gained nefarious infamy, stealing the spotlight. Like Jack, a hunted former Exchange dog that stood up to his masters. Admirable if foolish – making powerful enemies before gaining equally important friends never ended well. Cassius didn't like Exchange, not really because anything personal but simple pragmatism as they waged war against the Cartel, by extend also him. Jack had done him a favor without even realizing that...And now maybe would be willing to do another.
Ever since Cassius had learned about Nieraan he blamed him for everything that happened with Danica. The Firrerreo was a clueless pawn in his daughters act of ultimate rebellion – one thing his daughter knew was to manipulate men. Especially those intellectually inferior, led by primal instincts more than reason. Nieraan simply had to go. Leaving his daughter's claws, preferably betraying her in the most painful way. Killing him wasn't an option, creating martyrs never did any good. Even discovering the rainbowheaded whelp's past brought absolutely nothing. A fruit of a forbidden union, raised in poverty, without any formal education he could become only one thing: a common criminal and a killer that happened upon the Sith. Certainly belonging to a group of self proclaimed cult inflated the boy's fragile ego. Jack was most likely no much different, seeing how the two run around together. Cassius didn't know what to expect from that meeting but had to try – Nieraan was a slippery little bastard that was taught crawling through the Galaxy underbelly, like a roach hidden in a woodwork. Ambushing him was doable, breaking not so much. The hearty beating and being thrown into a trash chute only strengthened Nieraan's resolve to be an annoying nuisance. Cassius would never admit it, even to himself but slowly grew desperate. Especially after he had received the devastating news – and from his own daughter no less.
The sound of opening doors brought him back from the dark cloud of troubling thoughts. Another patron vacated the joint when his money ran out and the bartender refused to pour him a glass on the house. Cassius looked down on own half empty glass. Local beer was a reminiscent of Montitia: tasted of river krust and moldy water. A sigh escaped him before he took a datapad that rested next to the glass. His message to Jack was short but hopefully an incentive enough. It mentioned the boy's past and the bounty. A promise of work. Cassius ran his fingers across the paper thin screen, he let the Force to seep from behind the wall that hid it. Long ago the Livco owner learned how to hide his presence behind the telepathic shield. It served him well on Coruscant and in Hutt space but here he didn't have to put masks. If Jack had second thoughts about the meeting and was around, maybe this would lure him. Unless fear won over curiosity in him but Cassius doubted it. There were many unsavory things the Sith could be describe with but cowards wasn't one of them.
The tendrils of the Force swept through the bar and beyond, plucking out superficial thoughts that rose into one choir. I don't feel well...Money, owes me...I can't tell her...Killed. Somewhere near the old man claimed a dark corner and drank himself into oblivion, he could feel his life fading in the Force but found no sympathy in his hear, maybe some pity. Cassius aura burned brightly but lost plenty of greyish light he had learned to maintain. It grew darker, muddier – betraying cold anger beneath. The crime lord titled his head back and closed his eyes. Cassius placed legs leisurely on the table, rocking back and forth in a rickety chair he listened to the mental static.
This planet was dying. Dying in own misery and toxic wastes. Its ugly cities grew like a tumor on the rocky, dead surface. Streets were filled with hungry laborers, homeless children and indecent women that hoped for easy money. Cassius resented this place, it showed how low a human can fall – face down in the mud. No one cared about Montitia though which helped anonymity he needed. A small, shady bar on the outskirts of the planet's capital was the last place anyone would expect Cassius Liviana to spend his time. Taught long ago how to hide own status, the Livco CEO made sure his garment was neither refined nor expensive: simple grey robes fashioned roughly after the Jedi's outfit melted with the brown, steel background. There were subtle signs that Cassius didn't belong amid the poverty stricken locals, small hints hidden in the aloof, verdant gaze. Obnoxiously bright and judgmental. His features were cleanly shaved, sharp and hair neatly combed. Some around cared to notice all that, followed him with their hollow, drunk gazes until they didn't spot a small trinket hanging at his waist. Sleek and silver – the saber's hilt was simple but betrayed the owner's meticulous perfectionism. They fearfully looked away, crushed by own troubles already even without picking fights with a force user.
Bounty hunter, mercenary or a Jedi were the common peasantry guesses which suited Cassius just fine. If a press sniffed out the Livco owner, a man who posed as a legitimate businessman in the Core, meeting with a shady character his reputation would pummeled. People would get curious, investigating his Hutt connections and alleged powers only Jedi should wield. Today he was Darek, a notorious bounty hunter and the Cartels protege, leading his own morally dubious syndicate under their banner. After he had pulled away from direct interventions in the affairs his small fame certainly faded, leaving only a shadowy puppeteer that worked alongside Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta Hutts. A good decade ago more people would know him by this name that now was a mere echo. Others gained nefarious infamy, stealing the spotlight. Like Jack, a hunted former Exchange dog that stood up to his masters. Admirable if foolish – making powerful enemies before gaining equally important friends never ended well. Cassius didn't like Exchange, not really because anything personal but simple pragmatism as they waged war against the Cartel, by extend also him. Jack had done him a favor without even realizing that...And now maybe would be willing to do another.
Ever since Cassius had learned about Nieraan he blamed him for everything that happened with Danica. The Firrerreo was a clueless pawn in his daughters act of ultimate rebellion – one thing his daughter knew was to manipulate men. Especially those intellectually inferior, led by primal instincts more than reason. Nieraan simply had to go. Leaving his daughter's claws, preferably betraying her in the most painful way. Killing him wasn't an option, creating martyrs never did any good. Even discovering the rainbowheaded whelp's past brought absolutely nothing. A fruit of a forbidden union, raised in poverty, without any formal education he could become only one thing: a common criminal and a killer that happened upon the Sith. Certainly belonging to a group of self proclaimed cult inflated the boy's fragile ego. Jack was most likely no much different, seeing how the two run around together. Cassius didn't know what to expect from that meeting but had to try – Nieraan was a slippery little bastard that was taught crawling through the Galaxy underbelly, like a roach hidden in a woodwork. Ambushing him was doable, breaking not so much. The hearty beating and being thrown into a trash chute only strengthened Nieraan's resolve to be an annoying nuisance. Cassius would never admit it, even to himself but slowly grew desperate. Especially after he had received the devastating news – and from his own daughter no less.
The sound of opening doors brought him back from the dark cloud of troubling thoughts. Another patron vacated the joint when his money ran out and the bartender refused to pour him a glass on the house. Cassius looked down on own half empty glass. Local beer was a reminiscent of Montitia: tasted of river krust and moldy water. A sigh escaped him before he took a datapad that rested next to the glass. His message to Jack was short but hopefully an incentive enough. It mentioned the boy's past and the bounty. A promise of work. Cassius ran his fingers across the paper thin screen, he let the Force to seep from behind the wall that hid it. Long ago the Livco owner learned how to hide his presence behind the telepathic shield. It served him well on Coruscant and in Hutt space but here he didn't have to put masks. If Jack had second thoughts about the meeting and was around, maybe this would lure him. Unless fear won over curiosity in him but Cassius doubted it. There were many unsavory things the Sith could be describe with but cowards wasn't one of them.
The tendrils of the Force swept through the bar and beyond, plucking out superficial thoughts that rose into one choir. I don't feel well...Money, owes me...I can't tell her...Killed. Somewhere near the old man claimed a dark corner and drank himself into oblivion, he could feel his life fading in the Force but found no sympathy in his hear, maybe some pity. Cassius aura burned brightly but lost plenty of greyish light he had learned to maintain. It grew darker, muddier – betraying cold anger beneath. The crime lord titled his head back and closed his eyes. Cassius placed legs leisurely on the table, rocking back and forth in a rickety chair he listened to the mental static.