An Appointment with Death (Rugs)

[Karl the Unfettered]

Balmorra. One of the premier industrial planets in the galaxy, producing all sorts of stuff from droids to blasters to gigantic things normal people didn't have to think about. Traffic, and security, were naturally somewhat high, though bribes were of course easily spent. Nevertheless a healthy criminal element existed, which could be manipulated for personal gain if one had the right... influence.

The dark-robed man in the tinted glasses, cloak pulled about his lean frame and custom cortosis-laced armor, had the right influence. Witness how he effortlessly deflected any potential attention even as he had the attendants of the shuttle dancing to his every whim. Then witness how the security check somehow missed searching him as he and the other passengers disembarked, even as they diligently patted down everyone else.

"Mortals," he said cheerfully to himself, startling a rather innocent-looking young Zabrak woman just in front of him. She reminded him of his apprentice; naturally he couldn't just leave it alone after that, so he applied a bit of sweet-talking and a fair bit of the Force...

An hour later, he walked out of the cheap starport hotel, not a thread out of place on his expensive clothing or glint out of place on his expensive shades. "Mortals," he said to himself in a satisfied tone, giving his blond hair a toss. The young Zabrak, no longer so innocent, had been persuaded to sleep in for a while, which would no doubt do her a lot of good later on.

Fortunately the dark-robed man in the expensive armor had been several hours early, so he had plenty of time to amble along, taking in the sights. To his vision, the world around him was a swirl of colors, intents and purposes; he had no eyes, hence the glasses, but he saw much better than most who were inhibited by mere vision. "Much better than Nar Shaddaa," he said to himself.

In time, after a break in a coffee shop (where he had somehow gotten everything for free), he came to his destination; Visari Enterprises. An anonymous office building situated between a river and a mountain, it had none of what the dark-robed fellow had expected from a company like that. "Oh well, never judge a holocron by its casing I guess," he said as he walked in. The security guards rose to confront the newcomer, but one look at his lightsaber said maybe they should let him pass.

Smirking, he did just that, walking unerringly through the halls until he reached the receptionist. "Excuse me," he began, "I have an appointment with Mister Netellus. I know I'm early, but could he perhaps be notified?"

The receptionist glanced up, boredom hidden beneath years of professionalism. "Sign your name and take a seat," she said, pushing a pad across to the fellow. "You'll be sent for once your appointment comes up."

"Of course, of course," the fellow replied, picking up the stylus and signing his name, the date, and the time of his appointment with a flourish. He pushed it back across the counter, and went to sit down at one of the tastefully modern chairs in the waiting room.

The receptionist took note of the fellow's name, Charlill Sylvorr, remembered for some reason the oddly dark glasses, shrugged and sent it along; whoever he was, Mister Netellus would handle it.

[Rugs]

{Just a nitpick here, but the company is Visari Enterprises. Nothing to really worry about, but just to avoid calling it two different things...}

"Paperwork, paperwork, always paperwork," muttered one somewhat irritated Visari Netellus. The Epicanthix was seated behind a massive desk in his private offices in the headquarter building of Visari Enterprises. It was a large, well adorned room, with a great array of windows in the front that looked out onto the river that ran in front of the building. The floor was made of a red sandstone with veins of white marble running through it, imported from Tatooine. His desk was rather large, and hand-carved from wood, rather than metal. While Visari could appreciate the love for the metal and glass desks that many seemed to favor these days, he held the opinion that wood crafted in the hand of a true master was far superior to the more popular metal desks. The same was true of his chair; it didn't hover, and was made of the same wood (by the same craftsman) as his desk was, though it had generous cushion on it- there was no point in having something uncomfortable if he was going to be in it all day. The guest chairs that were in front of his desk were also made by the same craftsman, though they were smaller, and less expensive.

There were various things hanging on the walls of the office, the most eye catching of which hung high on the wall behind him. It was an old sword, a rapier, that had been passed down through his family for generations. The old blade sat horizontally on a wall-mounted display, under an image of the Netellus family crest that had been wrought in gold. It was more of a decoration at this point than a weapon(though with a bit of sharpening, it could be ready for use once more) with its elaborate wire guard and gold work carving in the hilt. But even so, Visari was quite fond of it; he had gone so far as to have a replica put in his office on board The Ballestra.

Today had been a rather uneventful one for Visari. He had awoken, done his early morning duties, and gotten to work. It was also one of the days where he had to spend much of his time rifling through paperwork; he was not at all fond of it, but it had to be done.

Suddenly, as he was doing his work, a holo projector built into his desk came alive with the image of his receptionist. "Sorry to interrupt you sir, but one Charlill Sylvorr is here to see you. He had an appointment later in the day, but perhaps you could see him earlier?"

Visari sighed and ran a hand through his white hair. Sixty three years had he been alive, though he didn't look it. Epicanthix lived longer than humans, and as such, his face looked more like the one of a man in his thirties-maybe forties. His hair had gone white years ago, back when he was in his late twenties; it was a genetic thing, and not anything he really had control over, though he actually quite liked the look.

"Send him up," Visari said after some thought. "I'd much rather him be early than late." His receptionist said that the visitor would be there shortly, and the image of her faded away.

Visari leaned back in his chair, stroking the hair of his goatee. Charlill Sylvorr.... He didn't really know anything about the man. He had requested an appointment with Visari not too long ago, citing to have an offer Visari wouldn't be able to refuse. Visari had heard that particular claim too many times to count, though something about Charlill brought him to accept his request.

Visrari moved about, moving the work he had been working on into his desk; it wouldn't do to have his guest come in to see such an untidy place. As he waited, his hand unconciously brushed against the cool metal of his can. Now, there was a good ruse. He didn't need the thing to walk, he was qutie capable of doing that on his own. But after a slight injury some years ago, he had taken to carrying it around, though that was just to fool the public. The true purpose of the thing was concealment; his lightsaber was hidden away inside of it, but only one who could touch the force and knew the workings to the mechanism to open it up could access it. To anyone else, it was just a cane.

Visari could hear the turbolift in the hallway. Well, that must be him. He folded his hand out on the desk in front of him, and set his vivid green eyes on the door, waiting for his guest to enter.

[Karl the Unfettered]

The dark-robed fellow in the glasses had been idly examining the artwork on the walls, when the receptionist cleared her throat. "Mister Sylvorr, Mister Netellus will see you now," she announced importantly, as a turbolift slid open in the wall beside the desk.

"Oh?" he inquired, coming to his feet in one fluid motion. "He decided to bump me up after all, then?"

"It would seem so, sir," the receptionist replied, in a tone that just bordered on sarcasm.

"Good of him. Thank you ever so kindly, madam," he went on with a bow, courteous and correct, "you have been a great help. I shall be sure to commend your performance to your boss." With that he turned smartly on his heel and strode to the lift, leaving the receptionist somewhat flustered in his wake.

On the way up he rearranged himself slightly, moving his lightsabers to an inner pocket of his cloak; it wouldn't do to walk into a meeting such as this openly armed, after all. He moved them in such a way that any cameras in the lift would miss the action, seeing only a slightly impatient fellow scratching at himself in the privacy of an enclosed space. He then stood at ease, whistling quietly, until the lift came to a halt. "Mind your manners," he whispered to himself as the lift opened, and he stepped into Visari's office.

His first glance of the great businessman, as all first glances were, was extraordinarily instructional. He took in at a glance his well-tailored clothes, his piercing eyes, his fine mane of hair and confident poise. He noted, too, the tell-tale signature of a lightsaber concealed within the metal cane; regardless of Visari's own skill at hiding his Force talent, he could not hide the unique resonance of a properly tuned lightsaber crystal from the Miraluka's vision. The impression was of a man not to be taken lightly, or trifled with, and he reminded himself again to mind his manners as he stepped forward.

"Mister Netellus," he began, holding out his hand, "I am Charlill Sylvorr, businessman and privateer in service of the new Sith Empire." Visari's first impression would be just as instructive; he would see a supremely confident man in precisely tailored clothing, who stood tall and carried himself with the innate grace of a fighter. Yet there was no antagonism whatsoever in his bearing, merely the polite respect granted a powerful man by another powerful man. Conspicuously absent was any sign of the Miraluka's prodigious Force powers; he had Art of the Small in full force, as he had since before landing on Balmorra. If Visari was observant he might also note the finely made armor plating beneath the loose black tunic, which itself had that unique sheen and ripple found only in genuine silk.

"But feel free to call me Shard, if you will," he went on as he shook Visari's hand. "I must say, you have fine taste in art. The paintings in the lobby would have any museum curator drooling with envy. Paizan, were they? One of the finest Alderaanian landscapists in our lifetime; too bad he had to die." He shook his head ruefully, in lament of lost talent. "But we all must pass on, unfortunately." There wasn't even any immediate indication he was a Miraluka; those glasses concealed even the slightest glance of his eyes, or lack thereof.

His glance directed itself over Visari's shoulder, and surprise etched itself over his face. "Ah! That sword!" he exclaimed, taking a few steps toward it. "I haven't seen such a blade in a long while!" He gave off the clear impression of wanting to take it down and handle it, while still maintaining the rigid, yet subtle self-control he always inflicted upon himself. "It... it must be an ancestral sword, is it not?" he went on, turning back to Visari as he composed himself again. "The shape, the hilt, the intricate gold work... if it is less than three hundred years old I would be very surprised." As Visari might know, the Mandalorian Wars had happened about three hundred years ago, with Revan and Malak and all them.

Then he recollected himself. "Oh, do forgive me, I have made artwork and fine craftsmanship a bit of a hobby of mine over the years," he said with a rueful chuckle and shake of his head, "and at times I cannot help but to get a little passionate." Shard may have been two inches shorter than Visari, but that fact seemed unimportant as he waited for the older man to sit down, so they could get to business.

[Rugs]

Visari could only lift his eyebrows at Shard. In his experience, first impressions could often make or break the chances of a pontential client, and his fist impression of Shard was a splendid one. The man dressed well, and seemed to share Visari's taste for gold trim. Visari thought he may have spied armor underneath the man's tunic, though he may have been mistaken; he had seen stranger things, in any case. Shard spoke well, and politely, and his taste in the arts was exquisite.

He motioned Shard to be seated as he himself sat down behind his desk, leaning the long, slender cane against the back of it. "I must say Shard, you surprise me," he said warmly-a tone that very few heard from him. "It has been far too long since I have had a potential client come in that seemed to have something filling the space between their eyes." He paused for a moment, a look of mild distaste passing over his face at the thought of so many wasted meetings. "I mean, it has been years since someone has recognized the works of Paizen. Have we come to the point where even one of the greatest artistic minds of our time fades into obscurity behind whatever the hottest new music group is?" Visari sighed heavily to show how he felt about that.

As he reached into his desk to pull out a few flimsi he continued to speak. "And you would be correct about the blade. This year it will be exactly four-hundred and one year old. It has been passed through five generations, starting with my great-great-great grandfather, who fought in the Mandolorian Wars. He was an officer in the Republic Army, and was killed at the Battle of Vanquo. The blade was sent back to his wife and son, along with the news of his death, and it has been passed down through the family ever since." Visari waved his hand dismissively, realizing that he was starting to digress. Despite the... troubles he had with his father, he was proud of his heritage, as evidenced by the family seal on the left breast of his vest, or any other number of places the crest could be found about the building or on his ship.

He clapped his hands together and pushed a button on his desk. The image of his receptionist flashed to life once more. "What can I get for you sir?"

"Have Z9-G5 bring in some wine. The..." Visari tapped his finger lightly on the desk for a moment as he thought. "The Sullastan Wine will do." The receptionist nodded and the image faded away.

Visari turned to Shard and cleared his throat. "So, down to business, then," he said calmly. But despite this, he had been dancing around one particular issue. Shard had claimed to be in the employ of the reemerging Sith Empire. Now this presented an opportunity for Visari; the power hungry Epicanthix was more than a CEO, he was a Dark Jedi, and had watched the rumors of Sith incursion into the galaxy turn into a reality. Surely then, with the return of the Sith, there were the ones that followed the old ways? The almost completely forgotten ways of the Sith? Of Reven and Malak, of Exar Kun and the others that had gone before them? Were that the case, then an quite the opportunity was sitting across the desk from Visari. But that's where the rub came.

You see, Visari could have reached out with the Force to Shard, to discern if the man spoke true. But his years had taught him caution. He almost constantly had Force Concealment in use-it would not do at all for some random Jedi or other Force sensitive that he may cross paths with to find out his little secret. So, the problem was that in order to reach out and see if Shard spoke true or not, he'd have to touch the Force. Now, Visari did believe that, in all likelihood, Shard was not lying, but he would much rather err on the side of caution than to proceed with reckless enthusiasm. What if Shard was an undercover Jedi, sent after some possible rumor of his powers. Paranoid? More than likely. But better careful than dead.

Suddenly, the protocol droid came into the room, bearing a tray with iced wine and two crystal glasses. The droid deposited the tray on the table, and Visari motioned for him to leave. Once he was gone, Visari pressed a button in on his desk, to make sure the doors were locked; an untimely interruption would hardly do at this point in time. As he poured a glass for Shard and then himself, he started to speak. "So... the Sith Empire, you say?" He had to speak carefully to keep the desire that burned within from rising up into his words. "The rumors are true then? Forgive this old business man for being a bit... out of the loop with matters of war. Running the company takes up so much of my attention, I find I have little time to keep up." That much was a lie, but he had to be careful. "So then," he said staring directly into Shard's dark glasses. "Have the Sith returned once more? Truly? And forgive me if this sounds rude, or presses into personal matters, but if they have, what does your... work for them entail?"

[Karl the Unfettered]

Shard sat down and accepted the glass of wine, sipping carefully from it as Visari spoke. It was good wine, but he did not have more than a few sips before setting it aside; it wouldn't do to have any less than his full awareness and command during this meeting. As Visari asked his questions, then, the Miraluka leaned forward, in such a manner as to imply secrecy without demanding it outright. It was a subtle trick, but one that worked more often than not even on experienced manipulators.

"They have indeed come back," he began, in a quiet voice as if his words were for Visari alone. "Or, I should say... we have indeed come back. War is upon the Republic, upon the Jedi, and if they do not act history will repeat itself in a most brutal fashion." He tilted his head down slightly, at an angle. "It is a good time for men like yourself, to forge alliances and make useful contacts around the Outer Rim. You are a businessman; well, I am offering you business."

He leaned back again, a light chuckle rolling from his throat; it was an easy, confident sound. "There are, of course, various designs at work within the new Empire, all of which will benefit everyone in time. My own included; it is my plan to move upon certain neutral or criminally-aligned planets and systems, subvert the rule of their leaders through force or subterfuge, and claim them in my name, and that of the Sith."

He stood up and spread his arms wide. "I will admit, I am something of a narcissist; Shard's Dominion, it will be called! The wealth and resources of the richest planets on the Rim, captured and put to work for the Empire!" He stepped forward, placing his hands on the edge of Visari's desk, as he leaned forward, again with that implied confidentiality. "But also for me. And perhaps, for you as well.

"Exclusive markets, Mister Netellus; this is what I am offering you. Well, perhaps not totally exclusive, there shall have to be a few others to maintain a semblance of capitalism..." and he shrugged negligently. "A foot in the door before it is even open, you could say. A chance to get in on the ground floor before the duracrete is even poured; hell, you could be the one pouring it! Or the one with the key!"

Shard had stepped away again, and had begun pacing back and forth as he got into his little speech, when suddenly, as his cloak billowed, something was dislodged. A thin, black, cylindrical object fell out of the heavy cloth and hit the floor, rolling a little; Shard quickly ducked to retrieve the thing, but Visari would have plenty of time to recognize it for what it was. The blackened casing was unusual, but nevertheless.

It was a lightsaber.

"Ah, where was I," the Miraluka went on, feigning a slight discomposure as if the previous incident had been an accident. In fact it had been staged, to indicate to Visari who he had before him without revealing any overt skill in the Force some chance Jedi could pick up on. "Well, anyway..." and he returned to the chair, his assurance returned. "What say you, Mister Netellus, to this mad scheme of mine? Are you in, or are you out?"

He was quite certain Visari would accept, though in the off-chance he refused there were always means of dealing with that. Not only was Shard armed with his lightsabers, he had a little holdout pistol inside his left boot. A single-shot weapon, chambered in .357 (a rather large-ish pistol round), it was the Miraluka's backup for when he could not bear his usual complement of artillery. On the inside of his belt were ten extra rounds, just in case he missed the first time.

[Rugs]

The edges of Visari's lips curled up into a smile as Shard spoke. New territories... New markets... Shard's offer was good. Visari was intrigued, to say the least. As Shard spoke, he leaned forward, folding his hands, to let the Miraluka know that he had his attention. A new market with limited competition? Mr. Shard, you are singing my tune...

And then the lightsaber fell out.

Visari was very good at hiding surprise, but even so, his eyebrows went up a bit at that. So, is he... He let the question linger in his head. That could be dealt with in a moment. When Shard finished talking, he sighed, and pretended to think for a moment. Of course, Shard had him, but some appearances had to be maintained. Most of his thoughts we about what to say to the sudden appearance of Shard's lightsaber. He settled on something that could be a bit of a gamble on his end, assuming that he and Shard weren't in the same boat. But Visari believed they were.

"Well then, Shard, it would seem.." his sharp green eyes flicked to where Shard had put his lightsaber away. "That we have some things in common." He let the words hang for a moment. Shard seemed like a sharp fellow, Visari was sure he'd catch the meaning. And if he's not on my side? Well, Visari would just have to deal with that.

He reached into his desk, pulling out a few flimsi, one of which was a contract. "Well, then, it seems you've made quite the pressing argument, Shard," he said, as his pen moved along the electrionic contract, leaving a string of glowing text in his flowing hand writing. Basic things were filled out, the date, the name of the client, things like that. "As I'm sure you may know, I am a man that is all about expansion, and the chance to reach out and pluck the riches of other planets before others have a chance is.. well.... I would be a fool to pass that up, I think." He came to the last thing that needed to be filled out on the contract: his signature-without that, that, the contract was worthless. "But," he said, stopping his hand dramatically over the line, "you will understand, I'm sure if I asked some things of you."

He cleared his throat, and took a small sip of the wine on his desk. "So, clearly, you have things to offer me, but what is it I can offer you? For the Sith's war? For your war?" He smiled a bit as he spoke, to give the image that he was a friend. A friend with very deep pockets that wanted the best for his client, because that would help him in the end, but a friend none the less. "Weapons, I would assumes. Ships? Droids? Whatever it is you ask, I can provide." A thoughtful look passed over his face, and he stroked his thick goatee for a moment. "And where, pray tell, do you seek to strike first, if I may ask?"

[Karl the Unfettered]

"So we do," Shard replied easily, inclining his head as if to gaze at Visari's cane. He straightened, and smiled slightly. "You guessed rightly; weapons, armor, equipment. A ship, I already have; droids I have no use for, they're too easily corrupted as compared to regular soldiers. But you can give me something much more than mere material goods."

He leaned forward again, and his voice became businesslike and confidential. "This will not be a siege in the normal sense, or even a siege at all. I cannot afford open warfare on a large scale until I can solidify a base, politically as well as economic and military; that is where you come in. You are wealthy, connected, respectable; association with one such as you, however covert or indirect, would do much to legitimize my plans. And that, you understand, is worth much more than any amount of guns.

"Let me explain further." He stood up, as if his exitement could not be contained. "My first target will be Farrfin, on the Mid Rim. It is an information hub of sorts, controlled by a criminal cartel; for months now I have had agents spreading anti-Jedi, anti-Republic propaganda and rumors among the plain citizens and low-level bueacracies, and more recently pro-Sith. I have also made one or two personal appearances, to entice the Jedi into showing up; I was once one of them, and have killed at least five Jedi since leaving.

"Soon my agents will step up their efforts, and the cartel will have no choice but to send for aid. Jedi aid." His glance fell on Visari, and even with the glasses between them Visari would feel the heat from that glance. "When that happens, there will be open revolt; my men can spot Jedi regardless of their disguises and tricks, and they will sound the alarm. Then we shall move, and we shall strike, appearing as saviors before them!"

He stopped pacing, yet his body trembled slightly; despite that his control of his powers did not slip, and no inkling shone forth of what he really was. "Think of it! To ensnare a planet and take over its politics while the very citizens you are taking control of do most of the work for you! Oh, there will be bloodshed, on both sides, but it cannot help but succeed!"

He sat down again, still trembling. "So, Mister Netellus... Visari. That is my plan, that is what I can offer you, that is what you can offer me. Do we still have a deal?" His hand extended forth, waiting for the contract to be offered.

[Rugs]

Visari nodded as Shard spoke. The plan was solid. "So you to unite them under you before you have even conquered them, then? Good good." He leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment, and memories, unwanted memories, flooded his mind. And for a moment, he spoke, almost as if to himself. "Farrfin is a world I know very well, Shard. Perhaps more than I'd like." His voice seemed to go hollow as he spoke, and his face started to show a bit of sorrow.

Farrfin. Even without Shard's short description, Visari knew that world. He knew it more than he would like. It was the only planet that still haunted his nightmares. Let me explain:

You see, long ago, when Visari was still young and idealistic, he had gone to Farrfin with his teacher, a Miraluka by the name of Karen Misaes. She had been the one to find him and tell him of his connection to the Force. She had been the one to teach him much of what he knew today. And Farrfin had become her grave. They had chased a Dark Jedi all across the planet for months, and he finally lured them into a trap, inside an old factory. There, he had beaten the daylights out of Visari, and bound him with the Force, forcing him to watch as he snapped a Force collar around his teacher's neck and slowly killed her. Visari had gotten up after that, somehow breaking his bonds, and attacking the Dark Jedi, hoping to avenge his fallen teacher. He was beaten to within an inch of his life. That same Dark Jedi had done a great deal to cause more pain throughout Visari's life.

Nero... Visari thought sullenly. In the end though, Visari had killed him. And, in a strange twist of fate, perhaps he should have felt a bit of gratitude towards the Echani. After all, if Nero hadn't twisted Visari's father into ordering the death of his love, then Visari wouldn't have usurped control of the company, Netellus Arms at the time, and be on the cusp of making the deal of his life as he now was. But that was all in the past. Now was the time to focus on the present.

After a few moments of thought, Visari reached out and took Shard's hand in his firm grip and shook. "Please forgive me," he said, thinking about his recent zoning out. "I'm sure you may know how it is... ghosts of the past and all that." He released Shard's hand. But even throughout the flashback, his shield had not faltered once, his ability was still hidden. "I would be glad to work with you, Shard. You seem to be a man of ambition, and I like that." Visari snorted. "Too many in the galaxy step too timidly for my tastes. You can't grow and expand like that. You have to be bold, and seize the moment." It was Visari's turn to grow a bit passionate, and some passion did indeed rise in his voice, then, but he stopped before he got carried away.

With that, he signed is name on the contract, leaving a glowing trail on the electric document, in his graceful handwriting. Visari turned the paper around, and pushed it toward Shard. "Now, you will need to sign here, and here, and here," he said, as he pointed to various places on the contract. A moment later he asked. "Now, do you have any idea when the time for this takeover might be? Is the time nigh, or are a you still making preparations?" He leaned back as he waited for an answer, and took another sip of wine to stop his left hand, which had started trembling from the pain of his memories.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Shard was silent while Visari sorted his thoughts out, noting from his face that whatever the memories were, they were unpleasant. At times like that he was glad he himself was a Miraluka; he could go around with half his face covered and not cause offense. Of course, that wasn't the only reason he was glad of it, in fact it was the least of reasons.

Once Visari was done, the Miraluka nodded. "Some have it more literal than others," he remarked in response to the man's comment. "And you're right. Nothing was ever won through cowardice and short steps; one must be bold, daring, ruthless." He reached forward and signed his name, his handwriting having the appearance of flowing water somehow. Then he pushed it back toward Visari, a smirk gracing his lips. "We have an accord," he allowed, letting a moment of silence pass as if to mark the moment.

Then he took up the glass of wine again and leaned back in the chair, making himself comfortable. "The assault will happen within the year," he explained. "As I said it is a tenuous undertaking; rumors must reach the right people, the Jedi must be lured out... hopefully the right Jedi, or else it won't be a challenge. And while I do expect it to go off smoothly, if it goes too smoothly it could appear fishy.

"Also, if you were to accompany us personally it would be a great boon," he added. "No doubt your skill is considerable, if you can hide your connection as well as you are." He smirked again. "There are always signs, though... especially for one such as me."

[Rugs]

Visari smiled as Shard returned the signed contract. The deal was done, and he'd have it sent to be stored away in the company's records room. "So we do," he responded to Shard's statement. He took a drink from his own glass of wine as Shard spoke of his plans, and smiled a bit. Provided that all went well in Shard's plan, the potential for the growth of Netellus Enterprises was astounding.

And then Shard let him know that he knew that Visari's secret. His fist feeling was of surprise, and he moved to retrieve the lightsaber out of his cane. Almost. But he remembered the words he had spoken to Shard, after the man had dropped his lightsaber on the ground. Instead, his lips curled upward in a smile as he set his glass of wine down onto his desk once more. "Ah, yes, I suppose the secret is out then, isn't it?" He chuckled at that, and decided to do something he had not done in a long time. He dropped the Force Concealment he had been using, and his hidden ability swelled out revealing the great extent of his ability. He pulled on the Force, drawing it into him and sighed sweetly as he did. This was not done to showboat in front of Shard-he had no doubt that the man was very powerful himself-but was more in the fashion one stretches after being stuck in an uncomfortably small space for too long. "It has been too long..." he muttered to himself. Indeed it had. He hid his ability out of habit, and it had been quite a while since he had allowed himself to touch the Force freely.

Visari looked at Shard again, with a rather content look on his face. "Well, then, I had almost forgotten what it is like to not have to constantly hide myself." He laughed warmly as he leaned back in his chair, the image of a fully relaxed man. "But I suppose that's not all bad. Can't go getting to reliant on the Force, no?" He took another sip of wine before continuing. "I would, of course, be honored to accomany you in your endeavours. You need only call and I shall come. Consider it gratitude for the opportunities that shall arise" A thoughtful look crossed his face as he moved the glass around in his hand, watching the wine move swirl around. "So then, what was the first sign for you? I think it would be underestimating you to think you didn't know before I said that we had some things in common." Visari grinned lightly at that, and added "And that stunt with the lightsaber... Was that merely an accident, or was it orchestrated?"

[Karl the Unfettered]

As Visari relaxed his control and reclined, Shard breathed in deeply, as if the sudden output of power Visari gave off was an aroma he could smell. Which, in a sense, it was. "You do have ability," he said appreciatively. "Yes, I could surely make use of your power during the assault, and subsequent campaigns..." He smiled, and it wasn't a nice smile. "Of course, as much as I can count on you, you can equally count on me."

For another second he regarded the Epicanthix, and his smile faded somewhat. "I am afraid I have not the luxury of relaxation that you have," he said after a moment, "since this isn't my company and we're too close to the Core for my taste, but..." He shrugged, and with a mental sigh released his own power, relaxing the Art of the Small.

Immediately, Visari would feel as if a boiler had come on very close by, filling the room with an unstable heat that wasn't felt on the skin. A violent aura began swirling around the Miraluka, black and bloody crimson and deep royal purple; dark whispers of insane thoughts echoed dimly in his mind, as if flitting madly about seeking entrance. That grin came back, in all its shark-like glory, and he faced Visari directly.

"It's for everyone else's good, rather than my own," he explained in a low voice, "that I tend to keep myself on a leash." He chuckled darkly. "Sometimes I sit and meditate, and people can hear me if I'm not careful. It's almost... infectious." He laughed then, a distinctly unpleasant laugh. "I tend to... forget myself, even..." and he laughed harder.

Then the heat went away, Shard stopped laughing, the aura faded, and he was himself again. "Sorry about that," he said apologetically, straightening his shirt. "As I said, I have not the luxury of relaxing quite like you do. Not here anyway." He sipped his wine, and sighed. "Anyway, you were asking me of things... as you may have guessed, I am a Miraluka. Blind in the physical sense, but because of that I see so much more than people with sight; I see purely through the Force.

"Everyone has a resonance, an aura," he went on. "From the second I walked in I noticed yours was subdued, repressed; not many notice such subtleties, but as you noticed my power is not typical." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Then, there was your weapon," and he nodded at Visari's cane. "Every well-built lightsaber has its own signature, the Force-attuned crystals within vibrating even when inactive. Yours has a similar resonance to your own, which is common with self-constructed 'sabers, or ones a person has carried for a long time. The crystals are like sieves; they absorb the flow of Force energy and come to reflect it in time."

He took out his own two weapons, laying them on the desk before Visari. "You see my own blades," he commented, with obvious pride. One was a normal 'saber, the other an unusual guard shoto variant; both had blackened casings and gold-tinted furniture. "After I gave up on the Jedi I crafted these, to reflect my new purpose and nature. Since then I have slain many, and will slay many more in the future." He put them away again, and grinned. "And yes, that was deliberate on my part, though I'm happy to say I knew what would happen."

[Rugs]

Visari's eyebrows lifted when Shard unveiled his own power. The Epicanthix was not one to usually be affected by heat or cold, unless it was extreme, but when Shard did what he did there was an... uncomfortable warmness that seemed to crawl beneath Visari's skin. No, it felt like it was coming from within his very being. Visari was a man of great power, both through his influence and the Force, but even he recognized that the man in front of him was not someone to be trifled with. What's more, Visari saw what looked to be an aura around the man. A physical manifestation of what lays within him, perhaps? Visari's eyes narrowed a bit in bewilderment as Shard started to mumble, almost as if to himself, and started to laugh like a man crazed. It seemed to Visari for a moment that the man who had been before him only moment before was gone, replaced by a cackling maniac. Is this what he's truly like? Is the other Shard a mask he wears to the rest of the world? He shook his head just a bit. He's certainly interesting...

And then the Miraluka's power receded, and he was the man he had been before once more. He nodded at Shard's words and even grinned a bit himself. "Ah, as I thought..." He reached done behind his desk to hold his cane up, and he could see both his and Shard's reflection in the smooth, polished metal surface of it. "I am proud to say that, you have been the first to see through this little disguise of mine." He probed at the mechanisms inside of the cane for a moment, and the head of it suddenly popped off, revealing the hilt of his lightsaber, emitter facing up. "Well, not counting those that I've wanted to see my blade. But ah... most of them are quite dead now." He chuckled a bit at that before holding up his lightsaber hilt. It was the outer layer of it was silver, much like the blade when it was ignited, and there were etchings in it that revealed the dark core metal that surrounded the inner workings of the blade. He suddenly smiled lightly, remembering the way he had almost been killed in his youth on the mission where he acquired the crystal for his blade. There had been one very large droid, and it hurt very much when it hit him. He wasn't entirely sure why he looked on that memory so fondly, but there it was.

He returned to the present after a moment of reminiscing at set his lightsaber down on his desk next to his glass of wine. He took another drink of his wine and continued. "So, there is one more matter I wanted to ask of you..." He had been skirting around it since Shard mentioned that the Sith had returned. "You say the Sith have returned... Would I be correct in assuming that, other than the Sith Order will be rebuilt, then? The Order that Malak, and Revan and those that came before them were a part of?" He stopped, and let the unspoken question linger; the question of how he could become a part of it.

[Karl the Unfettered]

((Jeez, short post. Sorries! T_T ))

"I thought you would get around to that eventually," Shard replied with a chuckle. "It is hard to resist, is it not? The potential to expand one's power, grow stronger..." He reached for his wineglass, sipping gently; the hard part was over, but he felt it prudent still to not indulge too much.

"Anyway... it isn't as hard as you would think, not at the current time." Again he was businesslike, direct in his speech. "We have only formed recently, and the new Temple will be completed within the week. I left the construction efforts to come here and see you, but I believe it prudent to return soon and do what I can in the final touches. Perhaps you could follow along a day or so after, which would give you time to address matters here."

He stood up again, as if unable to stay still. "One of your experience would no doubt be assigned an apprentice, if you don't attract one yourself in the natural course of things. Students are a rare gift, but they can be dangerous; it is the nature of the Dark Side to incite strife, conflict, and nowhere is this more apparent than in the relationship between a master and his student.

"If you have raised one before you know how it can be," he went on. "Have you, by chance?" and he turned to face Visari directly. "I've brought one or two up from the depths of ignorance. Very fulfilling, but as I said, very dangerous at the same time.

"Anyway. As I said, joining would be fairly easy at this time: simply show up and don't make an ass of yourself."

[Rugs]

{Hmm... I think I may have started to ramble a bit in the middle... Oh well, it still came out fine}

"As you say, then," Visari said to Shard's instructions for making his way to Korriban. He'd follow a few days after, to make preparations for his absence, and to make it know that he might be away for a while. Of course, the true reason for his absence wouldn't be revealed, but the Epicanthix was often away from Balmorra, running the company from his office on The Ballestra more often than the one on Balmorra, so that wouldn't be too much of an issue.

That would give him time to make another stop along the way, one that could not be ignored. About a week ago he had received a rather intriguing deal from one Lux Teper, who claimed to want to make an agreement to start up a special research division under the Visari Enterprises banner. It was hardly the first offer of its type Visari had received, and he outright refused more of them than he could count (as most came from fools), but what information Lux had given him had proved to be sufficiently intriguing, so he agreed to give the man an audience. They'd meet on Arkania, and Visari could just make that stop as he made his way to Korriban.

Visari lifted his eyes up to look at Shard at the Miraluka's question and smiled wryly. "This may surprise you sir, but I have to say that I have not." Visari leaned back and took another light sip of his wine before going on. "Or at least, not in the ways of the Force. You see, due to the way things have fallen into place in my life, my descent into the darkness almost directly coincided with the time that I took control of this company." Visari smiled, almost wickedly, like he was suddenly amused by something. "Or perhaps I should say usurped control of it from my father... But that's a story for another day. Anyway, for a time, I was learning the ropes of running this business, since it is very much a different beast than what academic learning would have one to believe." Visari sighed, and shrugged mentally. "And since then, I have been very busy getting this company to the point it's at now, and that has not left me the time to train one in the Force."

"But that is not to say I do not know what it is to train someone beneath me. Every now and then, when I see potential in one of the employees that's been working their way up the ranks, I will train them personally for a time. And that's not counting the speeches, lectures, or other presentations I've been asked to give at various schools from time to time." Visari smiled again and he looked wistfully out of the window. He had not expected that part of being a CEO when he took the position from his father, but he had gotten used to it. It seemed business schools rather liked having the head of one of the fastest growing corporations in the galaxy come and talk to their students, and he actually enjoyed it himself, to tell the truth. "That, and raising a student in the Force would require a certain kind of person, given my position." And so far, the right kind of person had yet to cross paths with him.

Visari shrugged and drank from his wine once more. "But, should I find someone suitable, I'd have no qualms about bringing them out of the depths of ignorance, as you put it. After all, one form of mentoring is, more or less, the same as another." Visari looked up to regard the man standing before him before asking "So what was it like for you? Raising up your first student?"