Unexpected Meetings [Invite]

[♫ Drace ♫]

Meditation, the art of focusing on more than an echelon of basic reality, looking past the obvious and finding the abnormal; most that were attuned to the Force practiced this form of unvoiced concentration. Sitting in a dimly lit corner of the Kaldar Station, Drace was entranced in his own subliminal thoughts; focusing on the past, present, and the future, not reality in physical form. Connecting to the Force wasn’t so much about how you did it, but rather how one would use that correlation to aid them. Though Drace’s mind was corrupt with confusion and hatred, he wasn’t simply a cold-hearted killing; every action he took came with its pros and cons. His contemplation and Force Attunement were ways for him to accept what he has done, and allows him to do it again without ill regret.

Kaldar Station was the perfect place for someone who wanted to be alone. Though it had virtually no errors, it was always eccentrically vacant; no sign of life, lost in space to say the least. Nonetheless, this simple station reasoned with Drace, both being alone, both being vacant; and both having an absence of sentiment. It was rare when Drace socialized, and when he did so, it was only to obtain information that pertained to a certain topic that tickled his interest.

While in Meditation, the slightest sound could be disorienting to a normal person, but with a Force-Sensitive it could be blocked out. However the sound of an Engine roaring, the suddenly ceasing took Drace directly from his state of Mediation back into reality. Stepping up from his once resting position, Drace gripped tightly the middle of his sheath from the ground and continued to make his way towards the docking bay. Once in the area, Drace noticed a stationed Ship, and departing from it a dark, luminous figure, whose darkness almost, if not surpassed Drace’s own. There he stood in the doorway, not giving a sound to his presence, but allowing his Force Attunement to make it known.

Stepping from the shadows, Drace continued to gawk at the man as he exited the ship. His clothes, smeared in blood, tattered and dirty. His eyes, devoid of human emotion, as Drace’s. Looking past the façade, Drace could deal this person had done wrong. However before he could come up with a rationale, the man noticed him, instantly sparking a feud. Rushing at Drace, the mysterious male pulled from his side, a short pocket Knife. However before he could lift his hand, his body was severed in two, as a majestic purple light shined, and the sound of a Beam twirling signaled. Deactivating his Lightsaber, Drace lowered towards the ground in a Kneeled position as he began to ramble through the thug’s body.

After mere moments, Drace’s hands stumbled upon what seemed to be a bounty poster, the man’s face and name plastered on it. So Drace had unknowingly killed a scum of the galaxy, well the bounty could come in handy later. However the wasted use of his blade with stick into his mind. Taking a stand, Drace pocketed the poster, and soon made his way towards the lone ship. Most likely stolen, Drace was expecting to find any materials of use within.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Kaldar Station was not entirely empty as Drace made his latest kill. Two others were also there, both of whom considerably dark themselves. One of them more than the other, naturally. They were here in transition from one place to another (what they were being irrelevant); the ship needed fuel, and here was a place for getting fuel.

They were master and student, in fact, a younger Twi'lek girl and a much older man who's race was indeterminate at first. He could have been human, or any number of near-human races; the dark, fashionable glasses prevented one from seeing for certain. They had been walking peacefully along, the older man lecturing the Twi'lek on the subtleties of Seeing through the Force, when he had sensed an anomaly nearby.

Curious, he bade his student to be silent and moved toward the thing, which was Drace in his meditations. He had already been concealing himself and his student in the Force; now he tightened this cloak as they came in view, just in time for another ship to come in.

"Watch, Miss Looma," he commanded quietly, laying a hand on her slim shoulder. The assassin stood to watch whoever was coming down, and there appeared another dark figure; the master frowned, thinking there was going to be some confabulation or other, but it was not to be. The new arrival saw the assassin and instantly rushed in, drawing a knife as he did so, and the assassin cut him down in one move.

"This one has talent," he muttered with a smile. "Go, Miss Looma, and introduce yourself. I have taught you how to lead, command, make yourself known; show me what you have learned." Gently he propelled his student forward, releasing the shroud over her Force presense as he did so.

[Mara]

[...from The Dwarf and the Droid]



Looma was feeling a little breathless as she followed her master out of their ship that had made a pit stop on Kaldar Station on Mon Calimari. She hadn't been running, nor had been exerting herself for any length of time. No, the Twi'lek felt breathless because it felt like she had been all over the galaxy with Shard, never spending too much time in any one place. She understand that he had his organization to run, something that she was only just beginning to understand and get acquainted with, and that this planet-hopping was normal for him. It was just something she hadn't gotten used to. From Korriban to Tatooine to Mon Calimari, with other planets in between. Some he was finding recruits at, some, like now, they were merely stopping for fuel and rest.

All the traveling gave him time to teach her during the downtime of hyperspace and for her to practice the lessons. But sometimes Looma secretly yearned for time on solid ground. For a real lesson. It was times like these when she thought that perhaps her master couldn't really teach unless he had the limited time of interstellar travel before making another trip on planet. That maybe he didn't have the patience to stand up with her and train and practice and teach for an entire day. But she pushed those thoughts aside. Looma didn't want to seem ungrateful. Shard was one of the more powerful of the initiates, and she should be thankful he took a shine to her.

Besides, right now he was actually giving her tips on seeing with the Force, something she was already fairly knowledgeable in because she used something similar in her telekinesis. Though this aspect was not to be able to see the object she was moving without her eyes but a more general aspect of it. Or more specific, depending on the point of view.

She was listening to him with her full attention, walking beside him with her hands in the sleeves of her dark robe, all hints of her shapely figure hidden within the heavy fabric, feeling the hilt of her lightsaber lightly slapping her thigh, when he stopped moving and speaking. Curious but not frightened, she followed his order and stayed quiet while he investigated the source of the interruption.

Looma hadn't heard anything, so Shard must have felt the figure in the Force, something she hadn't felt herself until now. She chided herself for not putting into practice the very thing her master had been teaching her just a moment before. If she had been watching with the Force instead of being closed in on herself, she would have noticed the figure as well.

Her focus turned to this stranger, trying to figure out what he was doing here. He was crouching in the darkness. She didn't have time to dwell on it any longer because she heard the familiar whine of another approaching ship, and then her master's voice. The yellow Twi'lek nodded in understanding, her gaze going back to the first stranger to see what would happen.

Quickly the dark figure jumped the new arrival, making quick work of his weapon. She saw then it was a lightsaber, and thought it odd for this man to have one. At the same time that he drew the purple blade, he had opened up with the Force, and Looma felt him. Not nearly as strong as her master, but definitely as strong or more as most of the other newer initiates like herself.

This was a Sith, then? Or perhaps A Jedi? The latter thought made her heart quicken; her first challenge against a Jedi. She hoped her master would let her fight him. Though she had only recently gotten her own weapon and was regaining her knowledge in Shii-Cho, she felt this figure before her would be an easy mark. And she had her master with her in case things went bad fast.

The stranger quickly went to his dead target, scavenging for items off the person. Then he headed to the dead man's ship, but before he could get any closer to it, Shard spoke up again, quietly to her. Asking her to--yes! No, wait, introduce herself? Not to engage in a duel? Oh, well, there could still be time for that yet, she supposed.

Gathering all the confidence she could muster, Looma took a deep breath and strode towards the figure standing near the second ship. Like a breath of fresh air she felt the Force cloak her master had over her disappear, releasing her own presence. Using a bit of the Force to propel it, she spoke, leaving her hands within her sleeves. "You there. Turn around so I can see you." Looma didn't wait for him to obey before she continued on. This time she removed her hands and lifted down her hood, revealing her face and lekku, hoping that her physical features plus a little pushing through the Force, as she had been taught, would influence him to answer. "I am Looma Isana, Sith apprentice. Who are you?"



(((Erm, I'm not sure what you wanted her to do, so I'm just winging it...)))

[♫ Drace ♫]

A pathetic pilot, it would have been safe to assume the contents of his ship were also pathetic. Just from a nippy scan, it was obvious that this person was comparatively poor, or at least the person who owned this ship before him was. The stench of aged whisky and cigarette smoke scalded Drace’s sensitive noise, even from beneath the protection of his dark cloak; truly revolting. Nevertheless, bypassing the odor Drace was curious if the ship held anything of worth. Until abruptly, his senses reallocated, triggering an immediate alarm within his mind as a presence dwindled near.

Sardonically, this attendant wasn’t there before; as if it manifested from nothingness. His attunement to the force augmented his innate senses. However he wasn’t able to feel such a portentous sensation before. Strange, was this some form of cloaking? And if so, what this mysterious person an abuser of the Force? It was undeniably likely, seeing as that only one accustomed to the Force could screen themselves from its arresting influence.

Underneath the hood of the dark cloak, Drace’s ears twitched slightly as a unfamiliar voice echoed through the station. Though shrill, the tone of voice was relatively feminine; leading Drace to assume it was from a female. Nonetheless he could feel the haughtiness, and intolerance that radiated from her being. Not only feeling such sentiments, a weak disturbance in the Force occurred as a weak push comforted Drace. Though on the exterior, he seemed un-phased. So, she was Force-sensitive, this explained enough for now.

Then she asked for his name, and apparently his attention? Her manners were deficient, and her approach, fruitless. She couldn’t possibly assume someone of Drace’s cold deportment would acknowledge such brash actions. Conversely, the ends of his clock twirled steadily as Drace now faced the twe’liek; his cloak still masking his facial appearance, as his cloak gave a façade to his strapping, well-developed figure. As he stood in place, one would notice a silver handle slowly dropped from the ends of his cloak’s sleeve as Drace revealed a Lightsaber handle in a firm grasp. Not taking any actions following the reveal, Drace stood silent, ready to retort if provoked.

[Karl the Unfettered]

Shard had pushed Looma forward not only to test her, but to distract this new fellow. Distract him from what? Why, whatever might be needing distractions from, of course! Fortunately, his apprentice was plenty distracting. The strong, silent type, I see, he thought to himself as he observed Drace's reaction, or lack thereof. Just fine, just fine.

Boldly he stepped forward, unnoticed by either of them due to the powers of Art of the Small. An extremely useful power, Art of the Small, its basic premise was to minimize one's presence in the Force to a microscopic level; many disregarded it, though, thinking it useless for more practical applications of the Force. And perhaps, in some ways, it was.

Not to Shard, though. It was an excellent means of stealth, not only making it impossible to detect the user in the Force but also making him unnoticable. Not invisible, simply beneath notice, utterly anonymous, not worth even a first glance let alone a second. One way to describe it was dim, and while so enshrouded one could walk before the eyes of masters and never be percieved.

And so, with the impenetrable veil of dimness about his person, the normally loud and ebullient Miraluka paced forward, regarding Drace and his student as they faced each other. Cloaks and masks were no obstacle for his vision; he saw through them to the muscular individual beneath. His presence in the Force was nothing to scoff at, yet still it seemed... untrained. Clearly, an initiate of sorts.

"Do not antagonize this one, Miss Looma," he told his student, silently through Telepathy. "He has skill, and the air of a killer. Be ready, however." She would not be alarmed by this, since she would have seen his ability to disappear like that before and still work through the Force. He walked around Drace's tall form, subtly searching his mind for details.

"Mister Jager, you intrigue us," he whispered, using the Force to make his voice echo throughout the chamber. "Tell us, what do you seek from life?" With Shard's power in play there was no way for Drace to isolate the voice and identify its source; it clearly wasn't Looma, since it was definately a masculine sound, yet there wasn't any other apparent source for such random voices in his sight or senses, either.

[Mara]

Her eyes narrowed as the figure in front of her failed to obey right away. The anger that would have vaulted out of her because of such rudeness she forced down quickly. Either she hadn't pushed hard enough, or this man was simply stubborn. Looma wasn't sure what to do next; her master had told her to simply introduce herself. Improvise, then. She decided she needed to get him to talk, to answer her questions.

Clearing her throat, her purple eyes stared at the man in front of her, as he had finally turned around to look at her. Just a man, that's all she could see. Or at least close enough to be human. His cloak still covered him almost entirely, and his presence in the Force was a little cloudy. But Looma felt he had a distinctly human... odor about him. All this see saw without her gaze moving from his face, as she thought about her next move, how best to demand of him his name.

But that wasn't all she could see. Something sparkled in the dim light of the hangar near the man's hand. Her head moved not a centimeter, nor did her lekku, as she deduced it must be the weapon he had so recently used to slaughter the poor hapless spacer that lay on the floor meters away. Two could play at that game, however. Looma had her own weapon attached to her belt, hidden now beneath her own cloak. But hers was of a crimson blade, not of a deep purple. A marking of the Sith.

Looma had just been about to reach for it, to show this man some respect, to get him to answer her, when she felt the presence of her master change slight. Though he used it often to disguise himself to others, she was still trying to get used to the fact that sometimes her master would just... disappear. The practice of his just made her feel eerie sometimes. But she had been around him long enough not to show any emotion on her face, keeping her eyes locked on the man in front of her.

He had been using it since they spotted the figure by the ship, but something seemed different now. Like he had moved. She couldn't feel him through the Force, but there was something else. Perhaps air currents sensed by her lekku. Or a slight change in the smells in the air. Whatever it was, she knew Shard was on the move.

Looma shut down the urge to grab her own lightsaber, instead using the Force to focus on the unknown man. Shard's voice echoed in her mind, not exactly words, but she got the message all the same. The same thing she had been telling herself just a moment before. It could be fatal to antagonize this man further, this man who had so easily killed that poor pilot. Again, her master's wisdom was shown to her.

Her decision was to break him into talking by being quiet herself. Soon enough, she thought, he would just say something, anything, to get her amethyst stare off his cloaked face. At least she hoped so. Or hoped that Shard had a better idea.

And that he had. She could feel him moving again, still unexplainable to her logical mind how she could, going closer to the man. He spoke to the stranger, and Looma had to pull on the Force to keep herself from being surprised by the loudness of Shard's voice. It took all she had to keep her gaze focused on the head in front of her. She had to act like this was the most normal occurrence, walking up to a stranger, demanding his name, and then hearing a voice booming around the chamber around her, like a floating companion.

[♫ Drace ♫]

Drace’s prominent silence was all but convivial; he held himself with such shrewdness that usually others would feel a sense of discomfort or exasperation. Nevertheless, he wasn’t here to please others, nor to answers such questions without the appropriate civility that came with such inquire. Intimidation didn’t dwell in Drace’s soul; his impassive nature shielded him from such foreboding. Her cloak’s hood dropped, Drace was able to cast sight upon the Twe’liek Beauty. Nonetheless, such splendor could be noxious; he’d have to keep a close eye on her for the time-being.

Her presence in the force wasn’t something to ridicule. However, it was also unrefined. Compared to his own, she was mediocre. Nonetheless, something placed the Cloaked Assailant at a pleasant uneasiness. She approached him alone, and her audience went disregarded for what Drace assumed to be long enough for her to scrutinize him. How could someone, whom held the force, hide from one who used it, especially at his echelon of skill? Something didn’t add, and Drace would get to the bottom of it.

With his Lightsaber handle held firmly in the grip of his right hand, Drace’s eyes, hidden from the outside world caught a slight disturbance in the maiden’s robe. As if a limb was rambling around vaguely; was she reaching for something? Drace thought as he stood stationed. His free arm slowly moving into the confines of his cloak, moving around near his waist until gradually, the movement came to a stop.

Leisurely pulling his arm from within his cloak, Looma would notice another tool in his clutch. Conversely, this handle wasn’t silver, but chrome golden. Showcasing the two Lightsaber Handles, Drace gave off an ominous atmosphere as if his thirst for blood had intensified. But something happened, something halted his next move as he lowered both arms to his side, and soon enough, a voice echoed through the four-walled station.

“My goals are of none of your concern…”

Exclaimed Drace as he gave a rather formless response to the ricocheting voice; his tone matured, yet unruffled. Not so much threatened by the dangling sound of another male; Drace was more intrigued that these two figures were able to hide from him. Still, the Brown-haired Dark Jedi couldn’t sense the sheer force of this newcomer, this concerned him. Was he really that strong, and if so, was he affiliated with the girl who stood in front of him?

[Karl the Unfettered]

"Wrong answer!" Shard cried gleefully, his voice bouncing back and forth with horrendous volume against Drace's and Looma's eardrums. The young Twi'lek was, of course, spared from the full effect, but Drace had no such accommodations; he got the full blast of Shard's shouting. In the next second it went down to barely a whisper, perhaps inaudible if one's ears still rung: "You are... interesting, Mister Jager," the Miraluka said contemplatively. "Interesting enough to be worth our full concern. Our undivided concern.

"I must express some displeasure, though, at your technique," he went on, now in a light, yet critical tone. "What did you stand to gain in the random slaughter of some passing pilot? More time to yourself, in whatever passes for solitary solitude in your no-doubt exciting life?" He scoffed. "Or, perhaps you are simply a mindless slaughterer, a mangler and a joy-rider on the coat-tails of your betters. At least until you make some misguided attempt at slitting their throat." Whoever was the source of this voice, he was clearly having fun.

"The galaxy is full of mindless killers, Mister Jager, surely you are better than that," Shard went on, now walking in a circle around Drace, still dim beneath his shroud. "Solitude, and the desire for such, I can understand, but hapless killing for interrupting such? Arrogance! Feeble, antiquated arrogance! Why, you may as well kill us to end your day!"

The blond-haired Miraluka now stood in front of Drace, not two feet away; without warning he threw aside the dimness and stood openly, though his Force ability he still kept hidden. He had never been truly invisible, simply beneath notice, but now he dominated attention. "Or rather... you could try to kill us," he whispered, grinning sadistically. "But I think it is you who will die today!" And with no more warning than that, particularly not the eyes most were trained to read (since Shard had no eyes) or even the body language cues a somewhat rarer few could track, he pulled out a silenced slugthrower and fired a single shot at the assassin.

Even from close range it wasn't really much of an attack; if Drace was any good he could dodge the bullet, and if he wasn't then he didn't deserve his life.

[Mara]

She noted the golden glint in his other hand out of the corner of her eye just as she had moments earlier with the silver one, but filed it away for later. Right now there were more pressing things happening, first and foremost, this mysterious man's response to her master. Even if the man hadn't been ready to ignite his weapons and come after her, Looma was glad for her master's timely interruption. Though she would have been ready for his move, and Shard would obviously protect her, her anger had subsided enough for her to want to avoid a violent confrontation. Another lesson from Shard: sometimes words were better than lightsabers.

Looma was surprised at the force of the man's response to her master, a rather loud exclamation. The only reasons she could think for it was that either he was caught off guard by Shard's voice or perhaps just was overwhelmingly private and didn't like talking about himself. With this man's obvious power wafting through the hangar felt by her through the Force, she was inclined to think the latter. She probably would have had a similar reaction if some strange disembodied voice had just whispered into her ear about her purpose in life.

The yellow Twi'lek stood quietly by, still in front of the stranger, keeping her entire focus on him. Right now with his focus split between her and the voice of Shard, he might be a grenade just waiting to go off. There was no telling he would react to her master's reply to his denouncement of his goals' importance. Observation... that's what she would content herself with now. She had bridged the gap to this stranger, and now Shard was taking over to finish it. Some part of her felt pride in this, in working equally with her master to accomplish something.

A comforting and familiar wash of dark side energy came over the hanger then as Shard stepped in front of her and put a face and body to the voice booming and whispering to this man. Her eyes closed briefly as she finally felt the fullness of her master's power; the blinking the only visible movement on her body. It was not yet her time to do anything else but watch.

With him standing bodily in front of her, she focused on his words; earlier they had just been a backdrop of calm as she kept her focus on the Force and on the man in front of her. But now she stepped a couple paces to the side in order to keep her purple eyes on the man instead of just staring at her master's back. She wanted to know where they both were at all times, both physically and through the Force.

At first what she had thought a taunt to get the stranger to bring up his weapons to bear on her and her master, actually turned into what she believed to be a test of Shard's. Looma didn't think he meant to kill this human in this manner; if he wanted him dead, he had had a dozen opportunities before this moment, and she doubted he would have done it with a slug to the chest. She stood silently by and waited, watching to see how this man would react.

[♫ Drace ♫]

This voice, this voice that lacked that of a face held an superciliousness that Drace hadn’t seen in quite some time, and to say the last, it was rather exasperating. Such conceitedness and the facility to express a false superiority was something Drace was deprived of. He couldn’t grasp, nor comprehend the emotional and psychological mindset that one had to undergo to become such a way. Intriguing, but still the less, aggravating in its own right. Such a conception of authority this man expressed through his words was amusing, and he actually spoke as if he held stature over the Brown-haired Pseudo-Jedi.

Then the influence magnified, and soon Drace found his eyes capturing a louder quantity of resonance then he had expected. It was as if this man was directly speaking next to him, as if he were speaking right into his ear. Though he listened to the words that this mysterious silhouette spoke, Drace didn’t give them much thought as to how they reflected the actions he had previously taken against the bandit’s life. This figure, poltergeist, or whatever he was knew nothing of the Jedi, he couldn’t understand why he acted in such a manner, and he didn’t know the milieu that Drace came from; so in theory, how could he speak on something he didn’t understand himself?

Then it happened, as Drace stood pokerfaced, though unyielding in his stance a bit bemused and startled as a figure seemingly appeared from the dark, empty space that once separated himself and the Twe’liek girl. His manifestation was unnoticed, which only added to the baffling mystery as to why Drace couldn’t sense him. It was strange and somewhat annoying realizing that either this man had a potent correlation with the Force, or was vastly weaker then the Jedi that stood in front of him. However he wouldn’t act inattentive, nor would he allow such deception to perturb his sagacity as he simply stood in place, visually ignoring the comments made against him, but rather assiduously detailing them in his mind.

As he stood, something rang in Drace’s head, as if a quintessence, or entity was calling out to him; warning him. This placed Drace’s mind at an anguish, and before he knew it, the Cloaked Jedi found himself sliding to his left, shifting his body as his eyes watched the disturbance that rushed through air, bypassing his body. Quickly looking back as he came to a stop, Drace noticed the fuming smolder that radiated from the nose of the Gun that rested in the man’s hand as he apparently fired a shot at Drace. As it missed, he couldn’t hope but think that it wasn’t aimed to kill, but more-so as a joke, a travesty Taking back to his stance, Drace simply stood still, and soon enough, the sound of a Light-Saber’s beam igniting ensue; Drace had once again revealed the purple hue of his primary Weapon.

[Karl the Unfettered]

"How dodgy," Shard drawled in a bored tone. "Miss Looma, this one has no idea whatsoever what we want with him. I mean look at him, standing there dumb and passive as a fence post!" Without warning he reached out with the Force and siezed Drace by the neck, yanking him down to eye-level (or glasses-level).

"Can you speak more than five words at a time, Mister Jager," he crooned, "or did they beat all sense of vocabulary out of you in Mindless Killers' School?" This close, Drace would be able to smell Shard's cologne, an expensive brand from the Core Worlds; not so musky as to overpower the senses, it nevertheless conveyed an olfactory aura of virility and power. Not that Shard needed such, but still.

"I doubt you can; why else would you hide behind this hideous mask? Scarf? Thing?" Abruptly he reached up and ripped away Drace's headgear, shoving him back as he did so. "Honestly, a man should be proud of his face, not ashamed of it. Especially with those tattoos, very attractive." A pause. "If you're into that sort of thing."

Looma would then hear the Miraluka's voice in her head: "Don't tell, but I happen to be into that sort of thing. Hint hint." Whether he was simply being random or subtly telling her to go and get inked up, was hard to tell at the moment. "Now go around, block his way to the ship; we don't need him running away, after all." Simultaneously the young Twi'lek would feel his power enveloping her once again, shielding her from Drace's perceptions; their roles were reversed, now Shard was the distraction.

"Now, that lightsaber of yours... did you make it yourself or was it simply handed down to you?" he went on out loud, at the same time as he was communicating with his student. "I made mine, you see, every piece and component either hunted down personally or tooled by my own hand." His blade floated up from wherever it had lurked and hovered before Shard's face, spinning slowly; the blackened hilt with its golden fixtures glinted darkly even in the dim light. "I daresay I could cut you in half before you have a chance to blink, so don't get any funny ideas now."

The blackened hilt slid into his hand, and ignited to reveal the acid-yellow blade. "If you're as confident with those two glowrods as you present yourself to be, you wouldn't mind backing it up," the Miraluka went on, adopting a defensive Shii-cho stance and moving backward a few steps. "Now, back it up." Shard's body armor, beneath the fancy robes, was of quadranium, and laced with cortosis alloy; Drace's weapons would not pierce it.

[Mara]

Violet eyes were unblinking as she watched the stranger easily avoid her master's rather inelegant salvo towards him. Her own body slid a couple paces to the side as well, always keeping both of the males in her vision. The older, her master, if only to watch what he did; the younger, the newcomer, to be wary of any further actions he might take. Looma remained still then, the only active part of her her eyes and her grasp of the Force.

And so her eyes were already on the other when he brought out his weapon, a lightsaber of purple hue. The fact was not lost on the yellow Twi'lek that it was also the hue she hoped to have when she eventually constructed her own weapon to replace the red blade her master had given her. But to her credit, she showed no emotion through the Force. Merely waited to see what her master would respond with, remaining out of the way until she was needed again. The introductions were over; now Shard would talk to this fellow.

She had to bite back a laugh at her master's first response, settling for a subtle smile over her lips. Looma wasn't sure what Shard's tactic was, but she was sure that this would infuriate the human, so she keep an eye on his blade, to make sure he didn't try to take a swipe at her master. Though she had utter confidence that he knew what he was doing, it wouldn't do for her not to be attentive as he swung the stranger in the air in front of him with the Force.

The only sign that Looma noticed the human's--for now it was obviously he was one--obviously handsome face when Shard removed his covering was a widening of her violet eyes. And perhaps a brief stir in the Force before she squashed it. He was no Caleb, but this human was still very good-looking, as much as she could see with his clothing covering the rest of him. There was evidence of a well-toned body underneath, but it was hard to tell for sure. What surprised her, though, was how young the human looked. About the same as her and Cal. But now it all made sense to the Twi'lek--his mannerisms all spoke to someone young, immature and inexperienced. She should have suspected it earlier.

Just after her master unceremoniously dumped the young man back to the floor, she felt a concentrated effort of the Force. More than what she had already been feeling from her Master's presence; he was speaking to her again. The distraction was welcoming. Though she still focused on the young man with her eyes, she no longer felt the unease she had felt upon seeing his features. She quickly ignored Shard's first unspoken comment but latched onto the second, more important one. Her only confirmation that she had understood his message was a slight nod of the chin and a nudge through the Force. Shard had conveyed to her through the Force the importance of blocking off the human's escape route. Though both of they could certainly handle the one, it wouldn't hurt to cover all the possibilities.

As she got in motion again, to head off the third member of their unofficial party, she felt dark side energy wash over her again, again, her master cloaking her Force presence. She relished the feel of it, like a soft blanket covering her, her violet eyes closing briefly in ecstasy. The feeling only helped to confirm her decision to leave Bakura and run away with the dark Jedi, to accept the apprenticeship of Shard. Looma knew she was where she belonged when the dark side touched her.

She stood then behind the prone figure of the human, between him and the ship, with he between her and Shard. Looma knew that this stranger wouldn't stay on the ground for long, even might ignite the other weapon she had seen a glint over earlier. Listening as her master continued to speak, degrading the other's weapon, taunting him and lifting out his own, Looma refocused herself in the Force, being watchful for any sudden clue of danger. And so the only surprise she felt when her master challenged the human to a duel, was felt only in her mind.

Instinctively, Looma moved back a couple of places nearer the ship she was supposedly guarding. If this human took the challenge, and she was sure he would, taking into account his previous actions, she wanted to be out of the way. Especially now that the other's focus would be entirely on Shard and not her, due to her master's shielding of her and the human's undeniable desire to concentrate on the battle ahead. She stood quietly, folding her hands inside her the sleeves of her cloak. And waited.

[♫ Drace ♫]

The searing sputter that exuded from the steel wall behind Drace soon died away as the once lustrous glow from the heated shell drowned in its own light, fading into nothingness. The Jedi, now stationed to his side simply stood, taking in the sights of his two adversaries, who simply did the same. One, hushed, was portraying a figure of exquisiteness. However that didn’t catch Drace’s eyes, it was the darkness that enveloped her heart that sparked a sense of intrigue in the cloaked combatant. The other, though showing signs of visual maturity, his attitude and mannerism was far from prudent, for he spoke with a tongue that expressed ignorance and annoyance.

Soon enough an eerie sentiment reached out, finding its way around the strong neck of the Dark Jedi, and with a mighty tug, brought Drace to his knees, dragging him to the ground. There, looking up from beneath his hood, Drace found himself staring the Cloaked Specter eye-to-eye. However, before long, his identity would come into light as Shard ripped the very metal that once protected his face away, tossing it aside as his dark brown hair flustered outwards, falling to the sides of his face.

Shard’s comments went nowhere as Drace minimally pierced through his opponent’s being, staying quiet and allowing the nature of his eyes to express the vicious intent that now devoured his heart. Looking from his peripheral, the brown-haired Male noticed the evaporation of the young Twe’liek, and soon enough, came to an conclusion that a plan was amidst.

Shard, with a self-assured mercy released the hold of Drace, and soon enough, requested a revelation of the skill he assumed Drace possessed. Picking himself gradually of the ground, Drace turned around, facing the ship, however not making a impetuous rush; rather, a plodding pace. After a few steps, he would turn around, facing his opponent once more as he dragged his left hand up, revealing the dark-golden chrome he held in his grasp. Unclipping the fasten that held his cloak together, Drace would toss the dark rag aside, showcasing his exposed, and finely-toned upper torso. His muscles, tensed as he entered into an offensive Niman stance, his hands stressing around both handles and with a flick of the force, igniting the beams. One pulsated a potent dark purple, and the other, a dominant golden hue.

Through his emerald green eyes, Shard would notice nothing but a void stare, but if he could sense the feeling in his heart and mind, he would notice the murderous purpose that soon ensued. And with that, he pushed off the ground, moving towards Shard as he brought both arms up; moving in a interweave pattern, what was his plan as he quickly approached the cloaked male?

[Karl the Unfettered]

Niman, Shard saw immediately, as Drace completed his preparations and began the assault. Considered by many to be an ineffective style and unsuited to the rigors of true dueling, a master could nevertheless confuse and mislead an opponent with its deceptively graceful attacks. This young man appeared not to have grasped these subtleties, though, as his lunge was simple and annoyingly straightforward.

The Miraluka couldn't help but shake his head chidingly. "You know very little," he announced, easily batting aside Drace's two-pronged assault with his single blade. "Niman is a cultured form, not the barbaric atrocity you're trying to cut me with." The boy didn't even know proper Jar'kai; his attacks were doubly ineffective. In retaliation he drove at Drace's torso in a basic Shii-cho kata, though elevated to such speed and ferocity one could hardly recognize it; the much younger man, knowing nothing of the defensive forms Soresu or Shien, would have difficulty fending off the assault.

Or he would, if Shard had been serious about his attack. In truth he was still testing the boy, his attacks set at a frequency just above what he could effectively block; he wouldn't have any time to launch fancy counters through the Force, or properly evade and attack with his blades, merely fall back and block as best he could. Looma would recognize this; she would know of her master's habit of toying with people he met, whether in a fight or whatever, but Drace wouldn't know this at all.

Drace was in no danger at all, but he wouldn't be able to tell. Acid yellow would consume his vision' any other course of action would lead to his swift death.

((Sorry for the lack of length. Anyway, happy birthday Drace! ))

[Mara]

Again, standing off to the side between the battle to come between her master and this Jedi stranger and the ship the other had come on, Looma noticed the unmistakable attractiveness of the young human. Thankfully, though, for herself and for the others, she kept the reaction deep inside. Sure that it wouldn't distact Shard anyway, she wasn't about to alert him to the fact that, even though he wasn't Caleb, the yellow Twi'lek was feeling something when the young man tossed his outer cloak. Her job was to be just an observer, and she had to remain as such, until her master gave her further directions.

She had no doubt that Shard would be toying with his younger combatant, but still, she was interested to see how this duel would go. To see what level of skill the human had compared to the masterful Miraluka that was her master in the Sith arts. Would her master push hard and strike fast, or just let the human enough openings to bolster his confidence, and then surprise him with a volley of hits?

Looma had to contain a smile and remain impassive, both outwardly and inwardly, through the Force. Though his opponent had two blades, and her master only one, this human was no match for him. Plus, he found the time and breath to taunt him. If it were anyone else, she would question his motives, but the Twi'lek knew that her master knew what he was doing. What that was, she could only guess at; all she knew was that he had a plan, and he was sticking to it. She was just waiting to find out what his purpose was.

[♫ Drace ♫]

Continuing his interweave motion, Drace zigzagged across the cold floorboards. His body’s muscles tuning, propelling and supplementing the level of adroitness and strength he would soon divulge to his unknowing opponent. Disorientation was his plan for the initial attack. No clear-cut actions or a plain and obvious charge. That was irresponsible and evidently imprudent against an opponent that held such a caliber of skill as his opponent did. Both blades lifted in an easily adaptable fashion; allowing, if needed a swift change from an offensive blitz, to a defensive front.

As the three blades collided, they seen entered into a agitation of strikes, and tolerable defensives. Drace, though showing nothing shy of apathy was mildly impressed with the man’s skills to combat his “judicious “skill in Niman, with a singular blade. However the ephemeral impression of interest faded when Shard assumed he would get such a easy strike on the young Jedi. As his blades were folded, he simply adjusted his arms, moving them across his chest, and with the opposition’s weapons striking across Drace’s Lightsabers, he leaped back, sliding across the floor as he did so.

Defusing the golden blade, Drace retracted the handle back into its hoister, swaying from the end of the Katana Sheath. Now with a single weapon, the brown haired Jedi could put up a more sufficient fight. Sliding into the basic stance of Shii-cho, he waited for his opponent to move. His evident pause in motion would surely give Shard the message.

[Karl the Unfettered]

"Well done," Shard said in a congratulatory tone. "Perhaps you have some ability after all." When Drace slid backward the Miraluka did not press the attack; he stood in place, the acid yellow blade poised and ready. "Tell me, young man... you have demonstrated skill in Shii-cho and Niman, have you any other areas of focus?" He rather doubted it; Drace couldn't have been more than eighteen. Twenty, at the latest.

Regardless, he was without doubt talented in lightsaber combat, and Shard wanted to take him alive. Alive and on their side, if possible. "I should like to take you with me; under my guidance, the Sith can find a much better use for your skills than you could by yourself." Without warning he launched an attack; a fierce telekinetic wave, from the side, knocking into the younger man and carrying him along. The wave stopped just short of the wall, depositing Drace unharmed at the far end of the chamber away from his ship.

"I am not exaggerating when I say I could kill you without effort," the Miraluka went on, pacing toward Drace with unhurried, measured steps. "But that would be a waste; surrender, and I can offer you a place in the galaxy, a chance at greatness you could never hope to reach by yourself. Come with us, join the Sith, prove yourself to our lords and accept the tutelage of a master; perhaps even one of the Lords themselves will take an interest in you, should you prove interesting enough.

"Refuse, however..." His walk did not slow, the cadence and volume of his voice did not rise or fall; simply, between one step and another, one word and the next, Shard's form blurred with speed. The acid yellow blade in his hand shot forward much faster than either of his younger fellows could hope to follow, and the tip stopped a hair's breadth from Drace's throat. "...and die." His stance was casual, nonchalant, yet the blade he held out did not waver in the slightest.

"Do you know of Juyo, Mister Jager?" he inquired, his voice unchanging still. "What I just showed you was Assured Strike. Trade power for accuracy, and as it describes your next blow will land without fail, piercing all defenses. This is what I offer you, power of this nature; this is what will kill you, if you continue to vex me." The blade retracted, Shard stepped back until there were several feet between the two of them; then, he turned his back on Drace.

"This is your last chance, boy... your final answer. Yes, or no?"

[♫ Drace ♫]

OOC: Sorry for the bad post

---

Odd, He went from antagonist to motivational presenter in such a short amount of time. Drace wanted to know what had caused such the far-reaching change in heart. However at the time being, he couldn’t careless and simply wanted answers. Regardless of his own individual feelings towards the Sith that stood in front of him (which weren’t much of anything anyways) it would be irrational to say Shard was a novice, unlike Drace himself and possessed true power; power that the brown-haired Jedi wanted in his grasp.

And thus he continued on listening thoroughly to the words the man spoke, encouraging Drace’s skill, while still stressing the importance and beneficial recognition he could gain if he joined the sith. It was tempting, and truly Drace had nowhere else to go. And will the benefit could be worth the effort it took. And honestly, if Shard wanted him dead, would the offer had even been proposed.

“I’ll join you…”

[Karl the Unfettered]

"Ahh, excellent," Shard said, genuine glee in his voice. He waved at Looma, indicating the threat was over and she could relax. "It's unlikely I will teach you personally, as I am usually a very busy man. You've met my current student already, Miss Looma Isana; she can tell you how busy I can be." Which was to her detriment, and his regret; he kept on telling himself to make time for private lessons with her, but between the demands of the Empire and arranging matters for the Dominion, time just wasn't something to be found in abundance.

In any event, he had two young people with him now, and he had to take the lead. "We should take you to Korriban, Mister Jager," he went on in a businesslike tone, "so I can introduce you to the others and formally recommend you for induction to the Sith. They might want to test you, but you'll do fine; if not, there will be two masters I'll try to find, Visari Netellus and Shandari Banaan. I work with both of them on and off, and in the future I intend them to join me in the most elaborate and far-reaching plans of our lives.

"But I doubt you'd have any interest in that. For now, once you reach the Temple you will be a student once again. Not all of them are as whimsical as I; you must show humility, respect, even if they don't immediately garner such, or they will refuse your admission. Or worse, kill you outright and leave you for the tuk'ata." He turned, and pointed a finger at Drace. "You are a proud young man, and deservedly so, but the Sith do not understand such; trust me on what I say, and remember it well. You will not get second chances."

He looked around again, and lowered his hand. "But it's time to go, now. Come along, you two, there's still a ways to go." He turned and went back to his ship, expecting Drace and Looma to follow along behind.

[Mara]

Once having been watching with rapt attention, Looma knew that her attention span was growing thin, something that she wanted to chide herself for. She should be watching every detail of this duel between her master and this stranger Drace, but most of the time she felt she was drifting off. Her eyes were seeing but her mind wasn't. It wasn't that it was an uninteresting battle, far from it. But despite not knowing exactly what Shard had planned, she knew he was manipulating the human. And for right now, she had nothing to do but watch, albeit rather impassively.

She busied herself then with focusing on herself, while also trying to keep her purple-hued eyes on the duel in front of her. Not trying to focus too deeply on the young human who so desperately made her think of Caleb back on Korriban or wherever he was, with his own master. No, she had to push all those thoughts away and think of herself. Looma knew she looked like a Sith, had all the trappings of a Sith, but still was far from being one.

The yellow Twi'lek still struggled from time to time with her master's teachings and philosophizing which he mixed in with actual lessons on the Force and lightsaber combat. And right when she thought she was gaining, they had taken a trip to the Temple's medbay after returning back from Tatooine with more Dominion members. Before then most of her lessons had been simple ones, something to pass the time during hyperspace on trips. She and him seemed to always be traveling somewhere, planet to planet. Looma had seen more places in the last few months than she had in her almost 18 years. Then, though, everything had gone wrong, she had failed, and her master had told her to forget everything he had taught her. Looma had been stunned by this.

And since that failing of hers, there hadn't really been any more focused teachings. Yes, he still imparted knowledge on her here and there, but no real hard time spent teaching her. She had thought he would have to start over, just as she had to erase her memory and learn anew. But then they had stopped over here to refuel and gained a minor distraction. Looma just hoped that he would take the time to finally stop traveling for a couple weeks and just spend time with her. There had been rumors circling the Temple before they left about a battle on Subterrel. And if she was to partake, she wanted to be ready.

With her mind thusly, winding down a bit and getting more contemplative of her future, she heard something coming from the human that brought her entire focus back to him and her master. Looma had to blink, wondering if she had registered his words right. He wanted to join Shard? As an apprentice? No... surely not. Plus, how did this duel of testing suddenly turn into a request? And then it hit Looma--the whole reason that Shard had decided to stop and play with this young Force user, a Jedi who had obviously gotten apathetic with his own kind. He had intended the whole time to pull him to their side. Why hadn't she realized this earlier?

Looma's lekku twitched a bit as she waited for her master's reply to Drace's answer. And hoped that he wasn't simply saying so to lower Shard's guard--he had seemed to speak quite quickly after her master was taunting him. Trusting her master, she still kept tabs on the Force surrounding the younger being, just in case.

When introduced she merely nodded and kept her arms in her sleeves, only relaxing slightly when her master told her the threat was over. She wanted to be careful; just because their weapons were no longer drawn didn't mean the danger was over, especially from someone who could be as unbalanced as this Drace.

Something that did calm her, though, was that it seemed her master did not, in fact, intend to train this one himself but would bring him to Korriban to find a master. And Looma was relieved at this. She had just recently gained him as her master herself and didn't really want to share him. Not that she was jealous... she just thought that if Shard's attention was further split, her training would slip further away from his priorities versus those of the Dominion. And hopefully after they returned to Korriban and dropped him off, she would never see Drace and his handsome face again.

Grateful to finally be leaving, she dropped her arms to her sides and followed after her master to their shuttle, showing her back to the new Sith. She had the Force; if he moved to attack, she would know it. The fact that they hadn't actually refueled yet tickled the back of her mind, wondering if this pit stop had been more than just coincidence. But Looma pushed it away, replacing it with the pleasure of seeing the Temple again and perhaps Cal as well. And training with her master, if they did not immediately leave again after dropping Drace to find more of his minions. Either way, it would be just her and her master. The location didn't matter. Perhaps this day was going to actually turn good.


[to Siege of Subterrel [Sith]... ]