Unexpected Delays (open)

[sparrow]

(( post here before joining please))

Taris was once a prosperous planet, an entire world covered in city. It's surface was subject to heavy bombardment during the Jedi Civil War, and even three hundred years later, many parts of the planet were still being rebuilt.

History was the last thing on Sierra's mind as she leaped from the roof of a still partially constructed building to a lower structure, a streak in the night. Landing softly on her feet, she quickly ducked behind a wall, pausing to catch her breath. It would be a few moments before her pursuers would get here.

They were armsmen, bodyguards, hired to protect an important client. Crimelord? Businessman? Politician? Sierra didn't know who he had been, didn't care. All that had mattered to her was that her assignment had been to kill him, and kill him she did, with a single stab to the throat.

Of the pursuers, only two remained, and nearby two thumping sounds on the roof announced their arrival. Sierra stood motionless behind the wall, one handing gripping what looked a long-handled dagger with a leaf-shaped blade. Cautiously, the two guards drew their weapons and advanced.

The first rounded the corner, and she burst into the motion, and blade going straight for the neck. Blood spurted like a fountain, and the man fell to the ground dead. The second leaped backwards, tried to assume a fighting stance, but Sierra swung her weapon, which had suddenly telescoped out into a six-foot long spear, sweeping his legs out from under him. Finishing him off was easy. Just one stab.

Retracting her weapon, Sierra made her way back to down to ground level, arriving at a deserted square. This part of the city had not yet been fully rebuilt and very few would be wandering the streets at this time of night. There was a small stone fountain in the center of the square that looked like it had seen much better days, and Sierra stopped there to wash the blood off her face.

[♫ Drace ♫]

Taris, a once affluent world; that however was before the sinned Jedi Civil War. Though its surface was almost entirely constructed of synthetic structures, the face of the planet was perilously damaged quite some time ago. Nevertheless, construction was being applied to the perfunctory planet. On the ground level, an exciting silhouette arose from the horizon, and as it moved, its dark cloak swiveled in the air. The posture of such an individual was firm, not supple and gave off the aura of dark; its atmosphere was cold as the night’s sky.

With the hood of its cloak draped over its head, possible recognition was implausible, and that was the way that Drace wanted it. The seditious Jedi moved with a calming velocity not exerting too much energy. However not walking at a turtles pace; gradually dragging the hood down, the brunette stands of Drace’s hair chopped outwards, dropping down to just below his shoulders. The unreceptive feels brought by the arctic, emerald portrayal of his eyes were filled with vacant intentions.

Having no valid reason for being on such a planet, Drace forced himself to believe that he could obtain training. With the current time and exhibit of darkness in the sky, it was obvious that most wouldn’t be outside. Perfect for one who merely wanted to be alone? While walking, a malodorous stench flounced against Drace’s nose and with haste, the Wanderer quickly drug the end of his cloak across his nose. As revolting as the stench was, Drace pressed forward. However another precursor had halted his progression. The thud of his foot stepping in what could be a trivial puddle rippled and Drace took to his knee. Dragging his fingers threw the strange liquid, Drace brought the putrid fluid to his noise, and then to his eyes; immediately recognizing it as blood, fresh blood.

So someone was recently killed, interesting, a matter that would catch the attention of the impassive Jedi. Before tracking the cause of the experienced, methodical murders; Drace disrobed himself of the cloak, revealing a full body suit. Lightly armored, the suit possibly resembled a leather assembly. Attached to his lower waist, a steel scabbard that had a Lightsaber handle attached to both ends. Reaching behind his head, Drace pulled a dark mask that was attached to his suit, over his face; followed by placing a metal visor over his eyes.

Adjusting the mechanic-visor to the lighting of the area, Drace could view the night with the ut-most clarity. With Haste, Drace sprinted forward; trailing in his shadow was a long red scarf that hung from his neck. Following the marks of blood that possibly fell from Assassins weapon, or exterior; Drace had the intentions of conversing. However if combat was to be implicated, Drace wouldn’t deny his weapons. After a short run, Drace fund himself hiding behind a partly crumbled building, to its side, a square aperture. Leaning against the wall serenely, Drace could hear the intrusion in the foundations natural flowing current and could immediately tell that someone was there, even without looking.

Not wanting to give his location away, Drace simply detached one of the Lightsaber handles into the palm of his right hand; gripping it securely. Taking a quick took over the side, Drace’s eyes caught glance of a slim figure, washing her hands and possibly weapons. His target was standing directly in front of him. Nevertheless, Drace wasn’t the one to purely rush into something without first evaluating his adversary. Standing back, Drace merely waited until the girl moved, maybe she would lead him somewhere worth the trip.

---

Outfit Located here.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Near the fountain, just down one of the sidestreets in fact, there was a cantina. Cantinas weren't unusual, especially in the Outer Rim, and this one wasn't any different. That would shortly change, though.

This change would be wrought by the tall, scruffy fellow in the gray trench coat, downing glass after glass of juma juice; despite the supposed strength of the liquor he showed no obvious signs of drunkenness, instead was stable on his stool, even if slumped over with his head on one arm, and intent on getting as drunk as possible before his ability to intimidate the barkeeper ran out.

As if to test this, his glass was once again empty. Scowling, he thumped sharply on the bar: "Barkeep! Another glass!" he hissed, in an oddly smooth voice. He raised his head, flipping his unkempt bangs out of the way, briefly revealing a face no less scruffy than the rest of him, with cold, analytical blue eyes. His true name was lost to time; his given name, when he felt like being truthful, was Romeo, and he was a malfunctioning assassin of the highest possible order.

"That's your fifteenth shot!" the other man protested, with more than a little fear.

"Yeah, and I'm ordering more," the drunkard sneered, "how hard is that to comprehend? Now do your damn job and bring me another glass!"

The barkeep took several deep breaths, pressed a button beneath the bar, and squared his shoulders. "I am sorry, Mister Cord, but I cannot serve you any more tonight," he said, the formality of his voice giving him confidence. "I must ask you to-"

He was cut off by Romeo's hand lashing out and seizing his neck. "Do I look as if care?" he hissed angrily. "I've already figured out fifty different ways of blowing this pissant little shop to hell and back, now if you don't-"

"Back off, bub," a rough voice rumbled, as a meaty hand laid itself calmly, yet firmly, on Romeo's shoulder. "It's late, you don't wanna cause trouble."

Romeo shrugged the bouncer off hard enough to make him stumble, threw the barkeep down, and whirled around, his face so twisted in fury the bouncer recoiled; out of nowhere an antiquated looking weapon appeared in his hand, pointed steadily at the bouncer. "You'll regret that!" he roared, preparing to pull the trigger. Suddenly the anger drained out of his face, and the arm with the gun fell limp to his side. "What...?" he muttered helplessly. "Where am...?"

The barkeep chose this moment to smash an empty bottle over his head, and he crumpled without another sound. "Get 'im outta here," he spat, turning his back on the crumpled assassin. The bouncer did so, first trying to pry the gun from his fist; upon finding said fist contained more muscle than most people imagined a hand could hold, he gave up and hauled him out, down the street to the square, and dunked his head beneath the water of the fountain several times before simply dropping him in a heap at the foot of the structure. Then, without looking around or noticing either Sierra or Drace, he marched back to his place of employment.

Romeo, meanwhile, sputtered as he awoke, stumbling to his feet and glancing around; he was much more attentive even though he'd just been bashed over the head and then half-drowned, and it took him half a second to notice the other assassin. "Who're you?" he asked, half-raising the gun; it was a lever-action shotgun, sawed-off, and the way he held it one-handed and with intimate ease indicated he was very capable with it.

He didn't recognize Sierra right away, but she would no doubt know him straight off. What she would do with that knowledge, was up to her.

[sparrow]

Splashing the cool water over her face, Sierra washed off the splattered the bloodstains. She then proceeded to clean her weapon, which was now retracted back to dagger length. There was some on her clothing as well, but those weren't going to be washed off here so easily.

A day or so ago, she had come to the planet anonymously, hitching a ride with a smuggler. The man had also agreed to take her off the planet, but only if he returned before he finished loading his shipment. There was still more than enough time, so now she paused for a few moments, her large brown eyes watching the ripples across the water. Leaning over the water, she appeared to be lost in thought, though she wasn't really thinking about anything in particular at all. The peace and quiet of the night were comforting to her, and she just wanted to stand still for a little bit.

She blinked in surprise as a bouncer from a nearby cantina dunked a man's head into the fountain near where she was standing. A blink was about as strong a reaction as she was going to experience. The man who had just been dunked thrashed around for a bit, stumbling to his feet. He looked like a fairly normal man, albeit a rather tall, well-muscled, though somewhat scruffy-looking normal man. Something about him was oddly familiar. It didn't take her very long to realize why.

Sierra felt no fear as the man held up his gun. She knew this man. "Romy?" She remembered him from the facility, though if her memory was correct she hadn't seen him in a while. "Where have you been?" Walking closer to him, she pushed the barrel slightly to the side with her hand so that it was pointed away from her, though a bit cautiously, as she wasn't completely sure how the man would react.

[Mr.Bøbert]

Daleb set his Dynamic-Class Freighter ((I can't remember it's name, :/ xD)) down on what used to be a tall cloudcutter, but was now a temporary landing pad for construction workers' ships and speeders. It was deserted now, aside from a few parked construction vehicles, being past working hours. He sighed and looked out the viewport after shutting down the systems, gazing at what was once a great planet. Sort of. He'd heard that in it's last days before it had been destroyed by the Sith, they had been a mostly anti-alien people. Daleb was never fond of humans who thought of themselves as better than other species. As a padawan in the Jedi Temple, he'd had many alien friends. He shook his head out of the past, realized he was still three hours early for his cargo, several turbolaser upgrades for some Private Army's captured ship, to be loaded, so he decided to go looking for a cantina.

He lowered the boarding ramp, stepped out, and breathed in the fresh, un-recycled air. Suddenly, he sensed something. Someone had a sense of urgency and anger. No, two somebodies. He stretched out further and felt another presence, this one more calm, but this presence seemed even more deadly then the other two, who were obviously chasing the other being. Perhaps police chasing a criminal? Amateur Bounty-Hunters chasing someone unlucky enough to have a bounty on their head? He could only guess without seeing them. He heard a distant thump noise, turned, and saw two people, the urgent angry ones. He could also see another figure, this one appearing to be... a young teenage boy? No, the body language seemed more female. About 5 feet tall, hiding behind a wall, knife at the ready. Daleb could see her, but the other two couldn't. Instinctively, his hand went to his lightsaber as he watched the calm one burst into motion, the knife going for the first goon's throat, splattering blood all over the place. The second goon jumped back, trying to assume a fighting stance. By now, Daleb was watching while leaping across the rooftops, his Jedi robes swirling, headed towards the fight. The knife of the female suddenly telescoped into a spear, knocked the legs of the other goon out from under him, and then stabbed him.

Daleb had reached a rooftop just above the fight, but too late. The assassin, as Daleb assumed she was, as he could now see the two goons looked like bodyguards, had made her way down to ground level, and the bodyguards were dead. Silently, Daleb leaped once more, landing in a bush just off to the side of the square where the assassin had gone. He wrapped himself in the Force, making himself completely invisible to any sentient being. A droid or camera could see him, of course, as making himself invisible from those things would take much too much energy. He simply walked up to the fountain, just as a bouncer dunked some guy's head in the water, several times, then walked away. It was hard for Daleb not to laugh. The man who'd just been half-drowned half-raised a sawed off old-fashioned shotgun towards the assassin, muttering '"Who're you?" It was obvious he was drunk. The assassin apparently knew him. "Romy?" she asked. "Where have you been?" she said as she cautiously pushed his weapon's barrel away from her.

Daleb still considered himself a Jedi, and though he did not officially belong to the Order, he still liked to help out the authorities whenever possible, and this killer had to be stopped. Simultaneously, he ignited his lightsaber and dropped his Force Cloak, the twin orange blades blazing into existence. "Sorry to break up your little meet-'n-greet, but I'm going to have to take you into custody. Unless, of course, you can truthfully tell me that those guys back there," he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb back towards where the fight had been, "had no reason to attack you, and that they attacked first."

Boy, he hoped he wasn't getting into something more then he could handle...

[♫ Drace ♫]

Were things getting interesting or what? Just being a specter, or recipient to the events going on, Drace could evidently tell that something was going to happen. While behind the wall, Drace scrupulously took the additional time he had to himself to determine his next phase of action. So, within the past half-hour, Drace had trailed the coarse-looking young woman. However he’d also felt the presence of another, one who was more idiosyncratic, a Force-sensitive; one whose aura differed tremendously from Drace’s own, A Jedi? Needless to say, if it were a Jedi and followed there “virtuous” code, then the murder of the two foolhardy hoodlums would most likely draw his/her attention.

The thin avenue which leading to the opening was sheltered by the towering buildings, and thus Drace used the shadows effectively step from off the wall. Wanting a clearer outlook, Drace had now felt a new existence. Expected, moments later a rather bulky man dragged an inebriated male to the fountain, and practically drowned him next to the girl. Though murder wasn’t committed, Drace found it droll how the bouncer didn’t do more. If was obvious that the drunken fool had to have done something, and on such a planet, one could only expect the worse; what a disappointment to say the least.

As the young girl and the intoxicated took a moment to hold a brief banter of simple questions, Drace finally found something he could agree on. After only a few inquisitive questions, weapons were drawn as the male held out a Double-barrel Shotgun. Before “hopefully” firing, the weapon was derailed from its original target as the girl simply moved the barrel away from her body; calling him “Romy”. So she knew him after-all, that would really put a dent in someone’s plan to kill that was if he liked her or was abstemious enough to even remember.

Before a reply was given by drunken Romy, Drace immediately felt the presence of the previous disturbance, and it was growing near. Soon following the consciousness, a man appeared from what seemed to be nonentity and held within his hands, two Orange Lightsabers. His suspensions were confirmed as Drace found himself staring down a Jedi, or a “suspected” Jedi. Though naturally even-tempered and composed, Drace’s anger began to flutter enormously; the hatred he felt for the Jedi was become visible. Stepping into the opening from the shadows, Drace without word ignited the Lightsaber he already held in his hand, the beam radiated a dark violent.

Looking over to the Jedi, his face was concealed by the mask; however one who was attuned to the Force would feel the resentment miles away. “You, with the Lightsaber”[/color] Drace exclaimed in a secure, composed tone of voice. “Are you a Jedi?”[/color] The question may have seemed pointless, or dense; nevertheless, Drace didn’t want to pointlessly enter confrontation with an aspirant, or someone who simply by coincidence, got a hold of a Lightsaber. Placing his free hand out to the side, the scabbard attached to his waist began to fluster and within a fraction of a second, the other Lightsaber handle detached and hovered into his grasp. Igniting the fierce dark Golden beam, Drace began to wind the weapons in-between his fingers; a typical exercise preformed by the Pseudo Jedi, Drace.

His visual attention was locked on the Jedi. However he didn’t put the two others out of his frame of thought; no one in the circle of individuals was reliable in Drace could just as easily be attacked. Not taking any impetuous or bold actions, Drace simply stood in place, and awaited the answer from the Jedi. If indeed a dignified Jedi, he would force confront Drace verbally, before entering combat. That however if he was a typical, conventional Jedi of the Order.

[Karl the Unfettered]

((OOC: sparrow, had you wanted to establish some sort of more direct history between Romeo and Sierra, or was the silly nickname something they all do with each other? The first would be interesting, but I'm fine either way. And Drace, it's a single-barreled shotgun; ever seen Terminator 2? It's like that one Arnold does the fancy "flip-cocking" with.))

The girl knew who he was; not only that, but knew him well enough she had a nickname for him. As she stepped closer, prodding the shotgun out of the way and asking him where he had been, her face came into the sudden moonlight (which must have been behind a cloud) and an undeniably feminine scent reached his nose; memories surfaced within his mind's eye, unimpeded by his malfunctioning RELIC chip.

But before he could sort through them, something or someone began approaching them; automatically, Romeo stepped between them and the other assassin, a second shotgun identical to the first appearing in his other hand with little more than a flutter of his longcoat. The implants in his eyes allowed him to see through the fellow's cloaking, and he betrayed no surprise (since there was no surprise to betray) at his appearance and ultimatum.

"Custody?" he replied with a scoff, twirling one of his guns; it made a racheting sound as a slug loaded into the chamber, and he brought it up again. "You're a long way from home, Jedi, keep your nosy ways to yourself." There was absolutely no sign of intoxication whatsoever, as he regarded the former Jedi from beneath the ragged fringe of his hair; it had once been a neat bowl cut, though it had also been some months since it had been properly trimmed, and his face was unshaven for perhaps a week or so. Nevertheless his cold blue eyes bore unrelentingly against Daleb, glinting strangely in evidence of the implants.

But before anyone could say anything else, yet another Jedi showed up. This one seemed altogether darker and more preoccupied than the first, showing no sign of acknowledging either Romeo or Sierra as he instead confronted Daleb directly. "They breed like flies," he said, for himself and his fellow killer alone. He felt no urge to fight, not for himself anyway, simply a need to protect his companion, who perhaps was his friend, until they could have a proper talk. "We can't have a proper discussion with these two around; you get out of here, I'll send them off and meet up with you later."

He cocked the second shotgun and trained it on Drace, his hands completely steady. Unbeknownst to the two of them, Romeo's guns contained incendiery rounds, which when fired would generate an intense burst of sparks and flame from the volatile magnesium and zirconium compounds; easily hot enough to melt most metals and burn away skin and flesh in seconds, the rounds served as excellent tools for his preferred method of assassination. Namely, loud, violent, painful, and final; no confusing messages to enemies, no unpleasant witnesses, just a large pile of dead bodies and a charred crater or two. "I have no quarrel with either of you," he went on, addressing the two Force users, "so I shall offer you a choice: leave us be and take your own issues somewhere else, or die painfully." He had killed Jedi before, and would do so again with no hesitation at all.

[Mr.Bøbert]

Daleb spun around to see two lightsabers burning, held by a masked man. "Yes... Well, no. I left the Order years ago. I still follow the code... sort of. And I do not take kindly to threats," he said, voice darkening. He spun into action, assisted by the Force, deactivating one blade and pressing that side's emitter up to the man who'd just been half-drowned's forehead before he would possibly know what happened. "I also have no quarrel with you, aside from you threatening me," he said quietly. He spun around and stepped away from him before he had time to react, re-igniting the blade he'd just shut off. "You stay there, I'm not finished with you yet." He faced the other man, still surprised he hadn't sensed his resentment and anger. Now that he thought about it, though, he had sensed something, but had been too preoccupied to worry about it. He casually shifted his feet to an Ataru opening stance, and let his double-bladed lightsaber hand at his side. "So who're you, then?"


((Sorry, I didn't know you weren't allowed to do that... though in my defense, even with your guy's iron hand grip, Daleb should have been able to ))

[sparrow]

She nodded. "Four's a crowd."

Despite the fact that she routinely dealt with blood and death, Sierra wasn't much of a fan of unnecessary slaughter. She killed who her orders told her to kill, and that was about it. It wasn't due to some regard for the sanctity of life; she just didn't care. So if Romeo wanted to step in and do the fighting himself, she wasn't about to refuse.

"Catch ya later," she said, and took off. There was a low wall and one edge of the square, presumably leading to some residential areas on the other side. Her spear telescoped out again as she approached. Jamming the blunt end into the ground, the shaft bent slightly as her feet left the ground, vaulting her up to the top of the wall.

She was about to jump down to the other side when she stopped and looked back. The three men still stood in the middle of the square, weapons pointed at each other, Romeo with his shotguns, the others with their lightsabers. Romeo had told her to leave. She knew that the guy could handle himself. Was she actually...worried?

[♫ Drace ♫]

[OOC: My apologizes for the very late post. However I was preoccupied with personal matters and couldn’t get online. Hopefully this post will make-up for the ack of activity.]

just to the far side of the Jedi, and at angle to the vivacious renegade and his “believed” associate, Drace was earnest. His Lightsabers still moving fluidity threw his fingers; Drace was fairly taken aback at the answer given to him. With an effortless question, the Jedi basically sung a entire snippet, Drace was simply looking for a “Yes” or a “No.” Either way nonetheless, Drace obtained the information that he sought and soon halted the progression of his twirling blades. Holding one to his side (left) and the other against his upper body, Drace decisively but evenly put his attention on the inebriated man.

Threw his engineered visor, Drace found himself fixated on a single-barrel Shotgun, rigid on his position. So “Romy” was uncomfortable with the current situation and sought to make himself comfortable. If Drace wasn’t stripped of his emotions, he would possibly laugh at the predicament that he now found himself in. To make things more attention-grabbing; Romy held a second gun, identical to the first at firing range to the Jedi. Two Force-Users were so venetian blind with their own transgressions that they couldn’t sense the danger that had just arose.

So the rough-looking man wasn’t as smashed or irrational as Drace had once assumed. He could prove more trouble then Drace was willing to merely let live. However he was at the existing disadvantage, or was he? Before the shrouded mystique reacted, he watched as the Jedi entered into a well-known Ataru stance, holding his Double-bladed Lightsaber with a stiff grasp. This only proved that he wasn’t an archetypal Jedi; he didn’t even try to sway the man’s brash actions with words of encouragement. If confrontation was going to be settled, this particular Jedi wouldn’t drift, but rather be in the middle.

Romy had spoken, and so had the Jedi. Drace however was only concerned with the words of the Gun-wielding scurfy. ”I to have no problems with you, but your weapon is making me livid.”[/b] Drace spoke in a clam nature. He was never one to allow others to hold a loaded or ignited weapon to his face, as it was quite discourteous. ”May you please lower your weapon?”[/b] Drace asked as he used the force to de-ignite his lowered (left) Lightsaber, as it leisurely levitated back into the end of his sheath. He however left his Main Lightsaber ignited across his chest; not dim-witted; Drace wouldn’t lower his guard and required its use if the man wouldn’t cooperate.

Before Drace could filly given his unbroken attention to Romy and the Jedi, he sensed something quite unsettling. Shifting his head slightly, he noticed the young girl fleeing from the area, vaulting herself over the high-wall that lied on the corner of the opening. Questioning to pursue, Drace needed to deal with the present state of affairs here between him and the two men. A Jedi with a Double-Bladed Lightsaber, and a man who wielded two twin Shotguns who was possibly deranged; any other man would fell threaten. Nevertheless, Drace felt nothing, and not by choice.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Sierra had left; this was good. The two Force-users had threatened him, and wanted him to put his guns away; not so good, but they weren't in charge here. Besides, Romeo had other means of attack than his shotguns. "Put my guns down?" he replied with a scoff. "Sure, y'all just put your laserswords up and we'll talk about putting my guns down." He took a careful step back, to ensure his weight was evenly distributed; if either of them were sharp of hearing they might hear the implants in his eyes whirring as he looked them over.

The darker one was muscular, yet young, and his lack of emotion reminded Romeo of himself and the other assassins. His two laserswords glimmered in the dark, throwing multicolored shades across the little square. The other one didn't seem much older than he himself, perhaps a year or so younger; his own weapon contrasted to the dark one's blades, though the assassin wasn't in a mood to consider such things at the moment.

"Are all Jedi always so cocky?" he remarked, crooking his elbows back to his side; this had the effect of lowering his guns, as Drace had asked, without actually putting them away. "Or is it just you two?" From here, with the two of them still focused on each other, Romeo could do several things: he could fire his guns at them and rush one or the other, likely the lighter one since he didn't carry himself with the grace of an unarmed fighter like the dark one did; he could simply run, get out of there, catch up with Sierra and evade them together; he could pretend to surrender, get their guards down, then strike at the opportune moment; or...

Or...

He could make a mess.

"Sure glad I'm not a Jedi," he went on derisively, returning one gun to its holster and freeing his right hand, which remained beneath the coat. "Sure glad I don't have to fight every other Jedi I come across. I get to choose my fights." What happened next, neither of them would get any hint of. A Jedi's sense of his opponent relied on emotions, feelings; most people pictured their attacks in their minds before doing them, and subtle cues in their body language and emotional demeanor served to telegraph the moves. But when your opponent had no emotions, and moved too fast for body language, a Jedi's foresight was as useless as a rock slug in lava.

From beneath his coat, Romeo produced two spherical objects, which he threw at the space between the two Jedi; simultaneously the other shotgun came back to his hand and he fired four times, twice from each gun, so quickly it seemed like a single continuous roar. The two grenades went off at once; they were a flashbang and a smoker, and they filled the area with blindling light and billowing clouds of smoke (the flashbang also had a moderate ionic effect, which would short out electronics, like visors or unprepared lightsabers, within its wide radius). The shotguns filled the air with arcs of molten-hot chemical shards, easily capable of burning clear through cloth to the flesh beneath.

Romeo didn't wait to see what effect his attacks had; he spun and ran for the wall where Sierra had been, catching the top and throwing himself over it and to the other side in a single fluid bound, displaying incredible grace despite his muscularity. "Sierra?" he called out, pitching his voice so it wouldn't echo too far. This area had yet to recover from the attack so long ago, as there were chasms everywhere and collapsed rubble; no doubt the chasms would take you clear to Undercity, if you didn't land on something hard before then. It was also extremely dark, since the surrounding skyscrapers blocked the moon and there were currently no other functioning sources of light.

[sparrow]

Landing softly on the ground on the other side, Sierra poked her head back over the wall to see what was going on on the other side, only to have to duck quickly as Romeo ran over and threw himself over the structure as well. Hopefully the other two would be distracted and not follow. They were Jedi, judging by the lightsabers.

Somewhere in her memory, Sierra had the impression that she had met a Jedi before. Maybe she had even fought one at some point, though she could not say for sure. No, the memory was definitely there. She could remember her spear parrying a sword made of light, darting and stabbing, and herself moving the weapon faster and faster in order to keep her opponent off balance. Wait,.... when had that happened? It was very odd how the impression was there, yet she could not name a time or place where that had happened.

Come to think of it, was she able to conjure up any memories of her being outside the Green Meadows facility that were more than just vague images and impressions? Not that she could think of...

"Sierra?"

His voice snapped her back to reality. What was she doing here anyways? Her mission on Taris was finished. By all logic she should have been on her way back to Green Meadows now. But something was making her stay. Curiosity?

She approached slowly, and with caution. He was the same person that she had known at the facility, but something about him was strangely different. For some reason she wanted to know what is was, and why. "You should have been back weeks ago." Her voice was soft. She sounded slightly unsure. "Why didn't you come back to the facility? What happened to you?"

[Mr.Bøbert]

((Oi, I already posted here a few days, but the site ate it. -_-))

Daleb's only warning about the incoming grenades was a quiet twitching noise, though even that was not quite fast enough, he realized. He dove behind the fountain, yelling "Duck!" midair, but the grenade went off before he was safely away. Everything went white.
Wait, white? And what's that ringing noise? And if I'm dead, why am I coughing?
He blinked a few times, and his vision started returning. A flashbang and a smoke grenade... he realized. He started jogging away, still coughing, trying to escape the smoke. He tripped a few times, but he eventually escaped the thick cloud of smoke.
He looked up, and realized that his vision had almost fully returned, as had his hearing. He looked around, just in time to see a leg-- most likely 'Romy's' leg-- disappear over a wall.
Daleb was mad now.
He sprinted towards the wall, and leaped over it, landing right in between Romy and his friend. Grinning, he pressed the ignite buttons on his lightsaber...
Nothing happened.
Oh, kark it All!
He dove away before either of them could react, pulling his blaster pistol out of it's holster, rolled, then came up facing both of them. "Neat grenade. But it only succeeded in angering me. Now don't move, and I won't have to blast you."
But if these assassins had as much skill as he thought, he was in some big trouble...

[♫ Drace ♫]

Something didn’t seem exact, once Drace asked Romeo to withdraw his weapons, he did so. Was he really weakening his guard, or did he have something up his sleeves? That was the question running threw the contemplating intellect of the Dark Jedi. From what Drace had perceived thus far, Romeo’s actions, dialogue, and even posture didn’t portray someone who would simply renounce this eventually led Drace to his suspensions of the rough figure. The young lady had already left, and it would be apparent that Romeo would want to follow as soon as possible; which would mean getting past the two Force-Sensitive’s.

Quickly Drace sensed a interruption in what had taken place thus far, a feeling of admonition surged Drace. Nevertheless, it was difficult to decipher such feelings when not directly facing the source of the disturbance. Nonetheless, Drace had the basis and knew he was being warned that something was about to happen; the question was did it involve Romy, or the Jedi? Then it happened, With a Keen eye, Drace noticed Romy releasing two spherical objects from the confines of his clothes, and with haste Drace went on the move.

Entering a state of conjoint mind and body, everything weakened in speed, as if it slowed down; however Drace was still in normal Motion. Using the Force to augment his speed and reflexes, Drace could effectively evade the grenades which now became evident. As Drace rushed to the sides, into a nearby alleyway, he would appear as a blur to those who were in visible distance. Retreating to a safe distance, Drace stood behind a wall as the sound of deafening blares erupted. However Drace could only assume that the Jedi was more affected then he was. After a few moments of breathing heavily underneath his mask, Drace lifted the bottom of his facial shrouded and allowed the fresh air to enter his lungs purely. The downfall of using such a technique was exhaustion, though he didn’t enervate his body, he was at a lost of breath, and his Force connection was slightly weakened.

So, Romy had used a Flash bang, and smoke screen; intelligent enough to cause disorientation and make for a easy escape. His Visor though slightly malfunctioning, gradually returned to its normal level of efficiently, and his Lightsabers were working properly after a few moments. From the evaluation of his weapons and equipment, Drace could only assume that a slight Ionic factor played on those grenades; and if he was slightly affected from a fair distance, then the Jedi was surely fully affected as point-blank range.

Stepping back into the opening, Drace ignited the dark purple beam of his Lightsaber that faded slightly and soon regained its density as he made his way back into the opening. By the time he arrived, No one was there, there Drace knew that The Romy had fled, however the Jedi could have done the same. Until the sound of the Jedi’s voice signaled his suspensions wrong. So the Jedi had followed them. Not scaling the wall, Drace would wait to see the outcome of the three’s encounter, then he would act accordingly afterwards.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Looking down at Sierra, Romeo was overcome by confusion. "I... there was an accident," he began tentatively. "I had been sent after one Molder Dizzigny, lived in a high-rise..." He remembered it well; it had been a classic assault for the powerful killer. Decieve, infiltrate, sabotage, blow out, it had gone exactly as planned until the end.

"I was walking away, and..." There had been a pain in his head, and he had stopped to feel around. That had been a mistake; the explosives he had planted were too finely timed for any hesitation, and he'd been blown away. Not literally, of course, since he was still alive; he'd landed in a garbage bin and lain unconcious for a short time, waking up to a massive confusion. The ensuing moments he didn't care to think about.

But before he could put any of that into words for Sierra's benefit, one of the Jedi leaped over the wall and tried to threaten them. "Damnit," Romeo muttered darkly, irritated at the interruption. He couldn't help a smirk as Daleb realized his precious laserswords weren't working, though it faded as he rolled away and drew a blaster. "You need to watch your mouth, Jedi," he replied, turning his body subtly to face the other man. "It might get you hurt, one of these days."

Romeo didn't specialize in unarmed combat, not like Echo or Tango, but he still had the prodigious physical strength and celerity to make such fine distinctions irrelevant. With a scowl of fury he darted forward, covering the distance between himself and Daleb in a single bound; his torso twisted, and one booted foot shot upward, knocking the hold-out blaster out of his hands; the leg folded in and snapped outward, slamming into the former Jedi's solar plexus with the fury and kinetic energy of a charging rancor; from there it smashed upward into Daleb's jaw, launching him backward to land, hard, against a pillar behind him.

"Stupid Jedi," Romeo muttered, lowering his foot and stretching his hand out, palm up; Daleb's blaster landed neatly in that outstretched palm, and with practiced movements disassembled the gun and left it in pieces at his feet. He turned back to Sierra, and found he couldn't immediately recall what he had been saying. "Damn him! I forgot what I was saying!" he hissed, sparing a withering glare at the Jedi behind him. "Well, whatever... come on, we need to keep moving," and he gestured farther into the depths. His eyes adapted easily to the darkness, picking out the yawning chasms and piles of rubble. "That other one might not be so easy to shove aside."

There was also the possibility of running into scavengers, or other denizens of Taris in these dangerous below-ground landscapes, but there was no choice. They had to shake the two Jedi off their trail, or leave them in a pool of their own blood; Romeo's training and experience foresaw no other possible endings.

[sparrow]

The night had started with a very routine assassination mission, but things were starting to get weird. First the suddenly reappearance of a lost friend, and then suddenly two jedi who seemed to not only want to fight them, but each other as well.

Romeo had started to answer when a loud thump announced the arrival of one of the Jedi landing on the ground after vaulting over the wall. How... annoying! They certainly had impeccable timing. Every time she tried to talk to Romeo one showed up. But then the logical parts of her mind quickly took over, noting that only two occurrences weren't enough to establish a definite trend. It was still annoying though. She was surprised by the amount of emotion she suddenly seemed to be feeling.

One of the small throwing blades that she usually carried was in her hand as soon as the Jedi finished speaking, but Romeo had reacted just as fast, sprinting towards the Jedi in an explosion of motion. She lowered her blaster. There was no point in shooting with Romeo between her and the Jedi.

She froze as she heard footsteps from the other side of the wall. So the other had decided to follow as well. Persistent, weren't they? Just couldn't take a hint. She hand slowly traveled to now-collapsed spear. If that man tried to jump the wall all he would find was a spearhead to the face.

And then Romeo was running off, and beckoning for her to follow. The man certainly was efficient, she had to admit. Efficient, and effective. She obeyed, nimble feet easily keeping up with his heavier steps. She still wanted those answers.

[Mr.Bøbert]

Daleb opened his eyes, then instinctively shut them again as wave after wave of pain went through his body. The pain was coming from both the area around his abdomen and his chin. He called upon the Force, letting the waves of it flow through him, flowing through and against the waves of pain, like two tsunamis crashing into each other. He started to feel better. He let himself drift into a Healing Trance, and he floated out of consciousness...

Daleb awoke, estimating only a few minutes to have passed. He felt much better, though his abdomen still exploded in pain as he tried to wobble to his feet. He groaned, with the effort, but the pain didn't seem like the sort of pain one would feel if something was permanently damaged. He stretched, which sent a fresh explosion through his body. He gingerly felt his chin, which seemed to have recovered from.... Daleb wasn't sure. The last thing he remembered was...
The assassins... he realized with a start. He looked in both directions, but they were gone. He tried walking, but heard a crunch under his foot. He looked down, expecting to find that his leg had snapped in half, but found his disassembled blaster pistol. Only half-relieved, he bent down to pick up the pieces and stuff them in his pocket. As he stood up, he caught a glimpse of something in the construction dust on the ground. He looked back, and saw footprints, leading into the rubble. He started to follow, then stopped, pulled out his lightsaber, and flipped on both blades. There was a satisfying snap-hiss! as the twin orange blades blazed to life. He smiled grimly, shut it off, and started after the assassins. He wasn't going to give them a chance to escape now. He was going to try to stop them completely, by knocking them out, or chopping their legs off. He didn't care what now. He was mad.
As he jogged into the darkness, every step sent a new wave of fiery pain through his legs and into his stomach, but he ignored it. It was only pain. A lot of pain, sure, but still just pain...

[♫ Drace ♫]

Thus far, Drace had proven to not only quite the tactician, but also the smarter between the two Jedi. As the Attuned Counterpart rushed into battle ignorant of his opponent’s strengths and weaknesses; Drace analyzed first, and reacted later. Maybe he could have been wrong in assuming he was the smartest; however when stacked against odds as the two were, it would have been wise to simply gather information to use against them. While on the other-side of the scaling wall, Drace was at some advantage in terms of not being damaged. Nonetheless, he couldn’t deal any from his position. Waiting a few moments as the upheaval from the other-side erupted to new heights; so they had entered combat.

As time passed and the loud frantic that originated opposite the wall ceased, Drace could conclude that the fighting had ended, and since the two rogues had returned for him, it was safe to assume that either they escaped, or were defeated. However with that, since the Jedi who obviously enjoyed talking and was one of the Jedi-Code hadn’t continued on to gloat or even make a arrest, which was apparent threw the absence of sound, he was defeated and the rogues escaped. If Drace’s assumptions were indeed correct, then it was safe to assume that the Jedi was either unconscious, or healing himself, which in either case, Drace didn’t have time to watch.

Looking at the wall, and the two buildings that were connected by it, Drace began to scale the right building, using the power of Force to augment his physical capabilities once more, that was however only to get a initial start. The building had pipes and other objects that Drace used to bring himself to the roof. Once on the roof, Drace took time to inhale more of the fresh air as he regained his composure from using the force once more. Taking a step to the side, Drace thoroughly looked down at the ground, noticing that the Jedi had taken to his feet, so he wasn’t out for the count. Then he went on the move, there was Drace’s opportunity. Perusing from the Roof top, and keeping smart to take each step with caution to avoid sound, Drace would follow the Jedi and hopes of finding what he was looking for, being most likely the two assassins.

His Lightsaber de-ignited in his hand, Drace tried his base to hide his Force-filled aroma from the Jedi in hopes that his cover wouldn’t be blown. Nonetheless, as of now Drace was sure that he wasn’t the foremost target on the Jedi’s mind, a defeat could attach stringently to the soul of those with pride and audacity, and this Jedi seemed like one of those types. One could guess that he was out for revenge; a trait that swallowed the pompous, and turned the light into darkness.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Romeo was tireless, and with Sierra following behind they went deeper into the dark, cavernous area, just short of sprinting. "I've been having headaches," he told her, vaulting over a heap of broken duracrete and skirting the edge of a yawning pit just beyond. "And I... I'm feeling things too. Sometimes I lose control of myself, and people get killed; other times I want to just curl up in a dark corner and cry for hours." He shook his head in irritation; nothing in his training had prepared him to deal with these emotional onslaughts.

In the darkness ahead, he made out pinpoints of light. Scavengers, a settlement? "Stay close," he said to Sierra as they approached the lights, slowing down and sticking to the shadows; there were a great many of those, since not only was it overcast and nighttime but the overarching pillars and broken skyscrapers blocked all but a thin strip of sky. Just outside the rim of the lights, Romeo slipped behind a pillar and observed quietly.

As he suspected, there were people. Some were stretched out in the glow of the flickering heat lamps, others moved back and forth in what he recognized as a watch pattern; one or two were busy over a small folding stove. Gear and equipment lay about in seemingly random fashion, but after a moment Romeo noted patterns there, too; everything was gathered close to hand of one or another of the wanderers, ready to be packed up and hauled off in short order.

"Scavengers," he told his companion. An idea came to his head, and with a smirk he unslung his own pack; it was large and heavy, but he handled it with ease. "Watch my back, I've got some surprises for our friends." He knew they had but a few minutes before the Jedi woke up and took off after them again; he'd be slowed by the pain of Romeo's brutal assault, but Jedi were a tenacious lot.

From his pack, the assassin produced a number of devices, medium-grade explosives. Quickly he rigged them and set them up, moving in an arc to plant them; one on the pillar, another beneath a mound of heavy debris, two more on the inside edge of a nearby pit. The last was placed on another support structure at the far end, out of sight. He was an expert at this; the bombs were small yet powerful, and not easily disarmed even if one was familiar with explosives. Also, none of them had the blinking lights that could alert the watchful for such things.

"Now we wait," Romeo told Sierra as he hunkered down behind a massive block of duracrete, a detonator in his hand. Neither of the Jedi had shown up yet; had they given up, after all? The scavengers had noticed nothing, and were unaware of the possibility of their impending destruction. Their lives meant nothing to Romeo; he had no qualms harming innocents, unlike the others.

[sparrow]

She nodded and said nothing, joining Romeo in the covered position behind the duracrete, feeling a bit surprised at how much ordinance the man was still carrying even after being absent for so long. Crouching, she drew her spear from its place on her belt, one hand tightly gripping the handle. The spear was still in its foot-and-a-half long collapsed position, but it could extend into its full six-foot length in a second's time. The shaft and blade were both constructed with a cortosis weave, allowing her to be able to block the Jedi's lightsabers, should it come to that. Scanning the area, her eyes fell upon the scavengers for a few moments, and idly wondered how many would be caught in the explosions that Romeo had prepared. There was nothing happening at the moment, so she mentally ran a few calculations to keep her mind occupied and alert during the wait.