V & N's Fungus Journey (Riku)

[Fromikeable]

Vance had to remark, he really didn't care for Felucia. At all. It has humid, hard to breathe, had an atmosphere literally swimming with pollen and allergens, and was so muggy that he was practically ready to peel his skin off. Even the colors of planet, usually very gorgeous to see, were a bit tiring on the eyes as the day wore on.

And there was nothing like a day of concentrated hiking into the wilderness. On a planet with more wilderness than it could shake a stick at.

Stupid plants can't grow on a city block in Kway Teow, could they? It wasn't a serious criticism so much as an annoyed huff.

But even still, he failed to complain. Honestly, his first “assignment” was really beginning to fascinate him. Vance knew next to nothing about alchemy, and the fact that Novus practiced it both mystified and confused him. He’d always heard two things about alchemy; that it was a method of extreme evil (the teachings of the Order), or that it was a waste of time attempting fairytales (gleaned from those of the general galactic population that he had listened to).

And yet, here was a Sith Lady, sane of mind and surprisingly reasonable (so far as he could tell), instructing him to head out into the wilds with a grocery list of poisonous fungi, enchanting petals, and smooth barks.

Needless to say, he had no end of questions. She would be hearing them as soon as she arrived on Felucia tomorrow to collect him, the ingredients, and the troops.

Speaking of the troops, they had kept him on a small edge. He’d been around enough of them by this point to no longer be afraid of suddenly being turned on (either by orders, prejudice, discovery of his membership to the Jedi, or general dislike), and these particular troopers had been nice enough in helping him with his navigation, but honestly he felt as if he was putting on an act. That was the worst part. They were just soldiers, just like you’d find in the Republic. They treated him well enough because he was their “ally”. If they ever suspected him of being otherwise, he would find a far less kind treatment as per what they would give to their enemies.

Just clip, Asano. Just clip. With his duo of guides a few dozen meters away chatting (he’d asked them to wait as he searched), the ex-padawan put his bag to the side and knelt to the ground. Activating a holopad, he flipped through the images until he found the species before him; a delicate-looking blue flower that seemed to curl more like a pigtail than a blossom. Putting on a pair of gloves (half to avoid the thorns and any insects, half to avoid any potential poisons), he hunched over and withdrew a small pair of clippers from his bag.

As perpendicular as possible to the stem, try to keep it from bleeding any. No skin-contact, make sure to leave the petals untouched…

[Fox]

Following a shuttle low-key was rather difficult this far out with no one else around, but that didn't stop Kuroth. He could feel - no, see - the corruption of the Dark Side emanating from the shuttle. As a vagrant, he had no goals. He simply went wherever the wind took him. Unfortunately for this Sith, his hidden pursuer had a distaste for Dark Jedi. Something about thirty years of slavery or something like that... It proved to be easier than expected following the shuttle. Through the application of Force Stealth, he managed to keep his presence undetectable to whomever was on that ship, and some careful flying kept him out of the line of sight. Within hours he and his prey arrived at their destination: The planet of Felucia.The humid air caused the Grey Jedi's cloak to stick to him uncomfortably but it concealed both his face and his weaponry - a necessary part of the ensemble.

Following his target on foot was far easier as it was particularly one of Kuroth's specialties. Rather than attacking indiscriminately upon first landing, he kept a respectable distance and watched from the shadows, keeping himself concealed as he tried to gather the Dark Jedi's purpose for being here. Curiously the youngling spent his time harvesting flowers, assisted by two Imperial Guards who seemed rather... inattentive. He watched as his prey chose each plant carefully from a holopad, evidently following some sort of list. What was this? The ingredients for some sort of ritual?

The Dark Jedi stopped once more at the side of a small trail to examine a plant. His two guards trailed off ahead, chattering as they absentmindedly strolled. One stopped to take a leak, the second casually trailing off. It would prove to be a fatal error.

The ex-assassin leaped from the shadows in a flash of speed. His hands were upon the trailing guard before his eyes would even catch a glimps of his captor, a hand over his mouth to muffle any noise. Without skipping a beat, the two fell into the foliage. A quick twist and the guard's neck was snapped, silencing him and stashing his body away in the plant life.

And then there were two.

[Fromikeable]

Rgh. Leaking too much sap. Gloved hands carefully put the flower they had been pruning off to the side, not willing to discard it in case it ended up being his best attempt. The cut was off, and he'd skinned it a bit too much getting the thorns off. Sighing lightly, he wiped his forehead with his wrist and chose another flower, trying again.

He was no botanist. Willing to learn, certainly, but only amateurish at the moment.

A sideways glance over at the guards revealed that they had moved. Shrugging lightly, he focused again, trying to correct his mistakes from last time... resulting in something a little better, but still not quite as he'd been instructed. Placing it off his other side, he sat back on the dirt and scrolled through the holopad once more, referencing the notes Novus had given him. What had she said? Something about the side of the clipper, if he remembered right...

Taking a deep breath, Vance relaxed as he read, his presence in the Force spreading out lazily, taking in the world around it. Felucia was a wild planet to feel; there was no sentience, no order by sentient definition, and nothing to stop the boundless, natural flow of things. In a way it was a serene, peaceful place devoid of the usual distractions of the galaxy. On the other hand, it was one of the deadliest places Vance had ever beheld; its natural flow seemed almost primal, as if the very planet was crouched, ready to pounce.

... hm. Speaking of sentience, where had his guides gone? Spreading out his presence further, the ex-padawan sat, eyes closed, knees bent, searching for a second. All he could feel was one presence off near a bush a dozen meters away... only one?

Either his guides had gone off without telling him, or they were...

... Oh. OH. Okay then. Just a theory, but... if they rolled that way. Couldn't have they have waited until they were off-world?

Opening his eyes and looking at the plant one more time, the padawan took up his clippers again, his brow knit as he leaned in close. He'd make a good cut this time, then find out where his accomplices had gotten to.

[Fox]

The apprentice would go on oblivious to the situation, at least for the moment. The laziness of his guides proved to be not only their own downfall but his own as his low expectations of them would allow Kuroth's assassination to go unnoticed by both the second guard and the Sith. With his "eyes" now set upon the second guard, he would test the boy's perception a bit further. After a bit of repositioning through the brush, the assassin had his sights set on his second target. The man was as good as dead.

In a rather non-flashy yet effective display, he once more leaped from cover and tackled his prey into a new hiding spot, disabling him with a simple and silent neck snap. No reason to be fancy when the basics got the job done just fine. With nothing but distance separating Kuroth from his final target, he continued to make his way through the foliage with great effort to conceal himself visibly, audibly, and through sensory means.

And then there was one...

[Fromikeable]

Aha! A decent cut. It was far from perfect; there was a thorn he'd only managed to split, and the cut was a little more vertical than he would've liked, but the plant wasn't bleeding, and the petals were pristine. Reaching into his bag, he withdrew a small cubic container, popped the lid, and carefully dropped the flower in, making sure that it didn't rest against the sides. Restoring the top, he smiled; not so bad.

He tried not to think too hard about what it was going to be used for. Hopefully nothing terrible, right? Whatever you need to tell yourself... Sighing lightly, he placed it back in his pack and stood, dusting himself off, and turned around...

... to be greeted by solace. Quiet, empty solace. Closing his eyes, he searched for the presence from earlier... and it was gone.

Uh-oh. His suspicious feelings flared in an instant. Novus hadn't told the guides to ditch him in the jungle, had she? That didn't seem to be her MO, particularly considering that her need for these ingredients had seemed genuine. Assuming that he hadn't simply been deserted, that left a few possibilities. The guides could have wandered off for a moment, maybe to use the bathroom or... something simple. A basic need in need of filling. Something reasonable that would allow them to return any moment.

On the other hand, the guards could have deserted him for some justifiable or unjustifiable reason. Perhaps they saw something odd or rare. Perhaps they were spooked. Perhaps they just didn't care for him and decided to let him try to make his own way back.

On the third, more extreme hand... perhaps something had happened to them.

Shifting his pack on his shoulder, Vance's hand subconciously hovered above his saber, ready to grab it at a moment's notice. Stepping forward a few times, his eyes darted about the trees as he focused less on what light entered his eyes, and more on the what the Force swirling about the vicinity could tell him. And that told him one thing, as he could vaguely make out a masked presence moving about.

He was far from alone.

[Fox]

A few moments passed with the young one remaining far more interested in his bouquet-making than his surroundings or the lives of his apparent comrades. But the boy wasn't entirely clueless as he finally stood, grasping the reality of his sudden solitude. He appeared much more alert and ready as his hand hovered over the empty hilt of his lightsaber. At least he wasn't entirely clueless, but the little exercise had revealed one thing to Kuroth: This boy was not only young, but was highly inexperienced - relatively of course.

Without a thing to fear other than Felucia itself, Kuroth made himself known to the Dark Jedi. His veil dropped and his tie to the Force could easily be felt as he stepped out from the bushes, a casual demeanor about him as he playfully examined the helmet of one of the fallen guides. "I don't know what's worse: These guards who went down without so much as a glimpse of me or the one who didn't even notice it all happening." The helmet was lightly tossed to the side where it fell with a thud behind the brush.

"A little dangerous to be picking flowers here. There's all kinds of predators about. All kinds." He teased with a slight smirk.

[Fromikeable]

An sage-green blade of light hissed to life before the padawan as he half stared, half glared at the man who had walked out of the bushes... with the helmet of one of his guides.

Sithspit. Sithspit, sithspit, sithspit, they're dead. Honestly, he was more concerned about the deaths of the guards than the interloper. They had seemed like nice enough guys; soldiers just doing what their army had told them. Now? They were dead, and because of...

... whatever this guy wanted. His smirk was unsettling. Vance didn't get people deriving joy from killing. On the few occasions that he'd killed, it had haunted him (admittedly to a lessening degree, which also frightened him a little). To just smile after he'd done it...

But first thing was first, and as it always was with Vance, that meant questions. He spouted the most pressing of them while his blade hummed before him, his body already in a Soresu stance.

"What the hells? Why did you kill them?"

Meanwhile, his mind raced. Who was this person? He clearly had no good intentions, to kill the guides and smile like that. Was he there to hunt, a la a predator? Was he there to demand? To capture? Just to have a bit of sport?

And to think, Vance's most pressing concern that day had been the thought of not quite cutting some herbs right.

[Fox]

The green light of the Sith's blade blended in perfectly with the natural colors of Felucia's foliage. It was peculiar to see a color he had personally learned to associate with Jedi of The Order wielded by one tainted with the corruption he once felt himself. This boy was not too far along the path. He could still be saved. He still had a chance to turn back.

Kuroth's right arm lazily dangled at his side but his hand opened and flexed, causing the hilt of his own saber to telekinetically dislodge from his belt and fly to his hand. It too roared to life in a vibrant indigo hue, but he remained in a relaxed and seemingly unprepared posture rather than taking the initial form of a style such as the apprentice had. One of the questions he had expected was tossed his way by the boy, curiously not lead by the infamous "Who are you?"

"I can feel the corruption in you. Do you know what lies at the end of the path you follow? Or were you blinded like me? As if to make both a point and some sort of morbid pun, Kuroth's free hand reached towards his hood, the bare mechanics of the prosthetic visible as the sleeve drooped. The hood fell and his blank eyes stared at nothing yet seemed to peer into the Jedi's very soul from beneath their darkened sockets. The light of the sun illuminated his pale skin and the black veins lining his neck. "Do you understand the price of the power you are asking for?"

[Fromikeable]

"I... what?"

Vance just blinked. What? Excuse him? What had he done? Looking slightly past the man and his own glowing saber, the ex-padawan peered at the bushes behind him, trying to see any sign of his deceased guides. He could... was that a foot? It might've been a padded elbow... Oh Force, what the hells?

"Sergeant? Private Adams?" He knew calling for them was a pretty moot point; they were gone, as far as he could sense. But a small part of him demanded that he hold out for a few seconds, his ears perked as they wished for at least some raspy breathing or a labored moan.

When they received neither, his face contorted in a combination of outrage, sadness, shock, and extreme confusion.

"What're you even talking about? Why the hell did you kill them?" His head shook, trying not to let any one particular emotion grab hold. He succeeded fairly well, though his emotion still tossed and turned. His brain was too upset to stop thinking of questions, but a bigger part of him conjured silence, waiting in earnest for an explanation.

[Fox]

As if he hadn't gotten enough affirmation, the boy called out for his comrades once more, his eyes searching past Kuroth in a desperate attempt to deny reality. Rage and passion bubbled upon the surface of the young one's face but he seemed to maintain his composure for the time being to toss around a few more questions, namely the same one he had already asked. In his defense, Kuroth had ignored the question. Furthermore, the act had been a bit hasty and brutal, to say the least. But it was the way he had been programmed to handle such situations. He was a trained killer.

"So that I could get some uninterrupted time with you. Whether I'm here for your life too or not is entirely up to you." His words were both a warning and a taunt to see what made this Dark Jedi tick. He knew all too well that the Dark Side was fueled by rage and passion. Just how in control was this young one? "I urge you to tread carefully. You walk a thin tightrope on the path you walk."

[Fromikeable]

Vance couldn't help but feel a shiver rock his spine, his head shaking violently for a half second. What a twisted reason to kill two people. Just to have a conversation. As if he couldn't have just approached peacefully and said that, potentially sparing two lives. But no. Killing two people in a bush; two people who, while perhaps enlisted, had no reason to treat someone as a threat without cause.

Force almighty, I searched for flowers and found a psychopath.

"Don't see why the violent murder had to come before the conversation, especially if you haven't made up your mind yet..." He hid a grimace, adjusting his stance just a little, as well as his grip on the platinum hilt of his saber. He'd made it with his own two hands; hands that, for all he knew, this guy had come to chop off and... he didn't know. Make into a necklace, or grill and eat.

"So-" His voice caught, causing him to clear his throat and take a deep, quick breath. He wished the nutjob would just attack or otherwise state his intention. An attempt on his life being up in the air at the man's whimsy was nerve-wracking, not to mention utterly alarming from a diagnostic standpoint.

"So why am I on a tight-rope?"

[Fox]

Kuroth smirked, already feeling the intoxicating and familiar rush of the Dark Side. In a twist of irony, it seemed that it was he who was walking the tight rope, not this Dark Jedi. While he had come here with the intentions of ending the corruption in this boy, it would instead spread further into Kuroth, threatening to pull him under once again. But sometimes the Dark Side was a necessary evil. Sometimes it was a necessary means to achieve an end. Today may be one such day.

"Perhaps I already came here with my mind made up." A brief chuckle escaped his lips. "You cannot tell me this is the first time you've been faced with the death of your comrades. If it is, then perhaps you have another lesson to learn from this." His saber was lightly tossed into the air before him where he grabbed it and brought it to his side once more, this time in a reverse-handed grip.

"The power you call upon will ruin you. It will deceive you and it will drive you mad. Keep your wits about you and do not fall completely to the passion within you." His saber was fancily flourished before resting at his side once more. "Now, avenge your friends if their deaths disturb you so. No amount of words will change what I have done."

[Fromikeable]

Finally a purple blade sprung to life, apparently feeling the need to do a quick somersault above its owner before landing in the man's hands and hissing with intent. Vance actually sighed a little in relief, his eyes tracing it from tip to hilt for a moment as he confirmed its state.

At least that was cleared up.

... now what am I gonna' do about the whole "pyschopath with a lightsaber" thing? Oh. Right. Still had that to deal with, didn't he?

The padawan's mind slowly began to find its instinct as he did his best to shove aside his emotions. The man's comment about dead allies made him cringe a bit, shaking his head again and making the process take a second longer. He'd... he'd think about that later. He promised. He'd sort of liked Private Adams, to be honest. He was a farm kid. He was really good at pointing out animal tracks.

And now he was in a bush, strangled and cold, with his XO.

Later... I'll think about, I'll think about it... just later. His subconscious, already swimming with adrenaline, seemed to accept this for now and allowed him to focus on the matter at hand.

His opponent jabbered something, flurried his saber, and demanded action. When he started jabbering, Vance started thinking. When he started flurrying, Vance started deciding. And when he started demanding, Vance started acting.

And so the ex-padawan darted as fast as he could to his right, sprinting.

Vance had never been much of a speed demon. Long legs helped him cover more ground than most, but they were really built more for lifting and jogging than running and speeding. His saber still humming in his hand as he ran, he ducked left, then right, then between a tree, than skirted another, having a general idea of his direction.

Novus was approximately thataway, and his subconscious demanded that if he died, he do it where she could see it. He didn't need two Orders listing him M.I.A.

[Fox]

It was almost as if Kuroth could see the cogs of the boy's brain turning as he seemed to temporarily accept his situation, realizing now was a time for action. The deed was done and real combat did not offer the luxury of a Q&A panel. He seemed to struggle internally, albeit briefly, more than likely holding back either the rage or the fear he felt at this moment. Adrenaline undoubtedly coursed through his veins and the fight-or-flight response finally kicked in.

And he chose flight.

The boy broke off to his right and moved through the trees. A hunt was it? Kuroth smirked. His specialty. While he had lived past the prime of his life, his old muscles still had at least a decade before they began to really give up. His speed was not what it used to be but he was still fast - at least fast enough today. The sudden sprint had given his prey a bit of a head start, but the gap was closed little by little with each powerful stride.

The Grey Jedi planted his foot firmly on a tree to his right and kicked off, sending him high in the air. His saber flipped in his hand and was brought upright, held firmly in both hands high above his head as he soared through the air towards his prey.

[Fromikeable]

His body jolted this way and that as he juked, he dodged, he rolled, and he barreled past trees, a few of the movements surprisingly fluid (Jedi training was good for something, it seemed), the rest clumsy and clearly not meant to be performed by someone with the stature of a statue. Even still, he could hear the crunching branches and ruffled leaves behind him just barely over his own ruckus. More than that, he could feel what was happening behind him.

And then, suddenly, the feeling shifted from simply behind to... above.

Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdam- The young man dove to his left as he could feel the presence rushing down upon him, bashing his own side into a tree as he dodged for his life. But big bodies had big momentum, and as such his thigh betrayed him, his enemy's saber bouncing off of his flesh, skinning it and the first few millimeters of skin it held. His body shook, jarred from ramming itself against the tree, and his leg howled with pain, searing and hot.

All he could do was howl, trusting in his instincts.

And his instincts demanded that he swipe aimlessly toward where the man had landed as he resumed his speed, making slashes at this tree and that as they presented themselves to him, hoping one would prove weak enough to fall in its strength to strengthen his weak chances of living.

It was improbable. It was a waste of energy. It was stupid. And it was naive.

But the rushing river ahead beckoned to him; a fleeting hope of living another a few seconds.

[Fox]

The searing edge of Kuroth's saber skinned the boy's leg in his feeble attempt to dodge the attack. It probably did him more harm than good as he railed himself pretty hard against a nearby tree as well. He howled in pain and stood up, a look of ferocity in his eyes. His hand was clamped tightly around his saber and he sprung into action, going on the offensive immediately. He slashed every which way, his saber sometimes flying wildly through the air, other times colliding with the trunk of a nearby tree.

The Grey Jedi moved back with relative ease, staying just out of the boy's reach to provoke him into attacking. All but one tree stood tall, a single weakened tree collapsing after being struck yet falling harmlessly away from the fighting pair.

As the Sith slashed to attack again, Kuroth lunged forward and brought his own saber up, creating a deadlock. His blank eyes bore deep into the boy and a faint smirk raised his beard. "You've talent, boy, but your instructor's rubbish." He backed up, cocked his arm back, and came in for another attack, purposely moving slow enough that his opponent would surely deflect it and catch them in a brief deadlock once more. "Channel that rage instead of descending into a blind fury if you're so intent on using it."