Forced Apprentiship

[Braden]

The stadium shook with the sound of cheers as the Calna Muun Dreadnoughts scored again. Fifty thousand supporters packed to the rafters were roared on the local Limmie team as they took a resounding lead the local derby match. Seraphim has never really watched Limmie before, he just about knew the basic rules of the game, but anyone with sense could tell that the Dreadnoughts were well and truly sinking their opposition. He stood in one of the main entrances to the stadium people stretching out in all directions, at first glance he looked like any ordinary spectator, his loose hanging shirt blending in with the rest of the youths in the building. Under his shirt however his two light-sabers were hidden, his single blade on the right and his double blade on his back.

Closing his eyes Seraphim reached out with the force pulling shut the double doors behind him and securing the lock. Once shut he reached up to his ear opening the comm channel.

"Seraphim, my gate is secure."

He had been sent with two others on a hunt for new recruits to the ranks of the Sith, in the core the Jedi had there way with any potential force sensitives but they hardly looked beyond the borders of the fledgling republic to check the stock. This is where the Sith had to capitalize, the more hungry recruits they had the stronger the Brotherhood as a whole would become. As the other's confirmed there readiness he reached out with the force, the purple and blue banners of the Dreadnoughts disappearing from his sight as he began his search for the next generation.

@Feather @RedneckLoves @Sapphire Storm

 

[RedneckLoves]

Rosalin resisted the urge to cover her ears with her hands as the massive crowd roared wildly. Searching this rowdy bunch of maggots was not her idea and she resented being sent here. She understood the importance of their mission, but certainly could have imagined quieter venues in which to recruit/capture force sensitives from this rotten city. At least during this mission she wasn't required to wear a disguise and was allowed to wear her traditional, comfortable flowing black robes.

With a resigned sigh, Rosalin pulled her deep hood lower over her face. A glance around her immediate vicinity revealed no prying eyes. Silently, she closed her eyes and reached within herself for that tiny bit of raw power that always elated her so. Drawing from it for even the simplest of tasks made her veins run wild with ecstasy. Staying focused and on task though the temptation to immerse herself in it was powerful, she sent out a gentle wave to close the large double doors behind her and engage the permanent safety lock.

Speaking quietly into her own comm, Rosalin answered, "As is mine. Where shall we begin once the stadium is secure?"

Even as she spoke, she tapped once more into that power within her. She could feel it deep within and all throughout her body like a writhing snake wanting to be let out and strike the lethal blow. Maintaining control of this beast was the reason she so often meditated when left alone. At the moment, however, she had complete control. She was allowing the power to begin seeping outwards in preparation for the task ahead. She would easily be able to pick out any similar sources of power within those lifeforms that filled the stadium balconies.

 

[Feather]

The individual that stood at the third and final stadium gateway rocked forward, bouncing momentarily on the balls of his feet. Bright, hazel eyes scanned the small section of the field he could see from his current position. He smiled. Scenes like this were refreshing. Thrilling. They filled him with energy and anticipation in a way that the forever-lingering Force could not. The roar of the crowd, the echoes around the stadium, the near-electric surge of excitement when so many people gathered together to cheer towards a common goal... He craved it. He'd enjoy every last moment of this.

Besef stretched lazily in the shaded alcove beneath the stands, arching his back and reaching his arms behind him with a sigh. The fingers of one hand curled in a beckoning motion, and as they did so the heavy stadium gate behind him rumbled shut. It wasn't until he heard the safety lock slide into place that he reached for the small device at his ear. "My gate is closed as well," his voice purred over their communicators, smooth and full of a perpetual amusement. "Are you absolutely positive we can't wait a bit, see the outcome of the match?" Above him, an excited murmur passed through the crowd as something particularly important happened on the playing field. He glanced up and grinned, moving out of the shade and towards the field. He didn't follow any sporting event in particular, yet he enjoyed coming to settings such as this - moreso for the throngs of people than for the games themeselves. It was clear his words were meant as a joke, but part of him did want to linger and soak in the atmosphere. Ah, well. Time for that later, perhaps.

The afternoon sun beat down on his back as he leaned against a safety rail, overlooking the field., not the least bit worried about being noticed. For all he cared, everyone's eyes were on the game. For the briefest moment he regretted wearing such a dark outfit, but he shook the discomfort away. If he was going to make a thorough impression, he couldn't afford to take shortcuts. He had to look the part he played, not just talk big and do neat tricks.

He relaxed against the rail, eyes roving over the field before him. To anyone else he would look like another spectator, but in reality his attention was drifting gently over the crowd behind him as he searched for an unfamiliar taste of the Force - one that would mark someone other than his colleagues.

 

[Braden]

Seraphim smiled at Besef's comment, it would be a shame to miss the rest of what politely could be called a hammering, but needs muss.

"Start from the top and work downwards I guess."

He continued his search through the force, feeling his way through the rows of people. It would have been easier if they searched through the streets door to door as they could sense the force potential much easier through the throng of living flesh around them. But it took too much time and without pulling in the might of the Sith military gatherings like this were the only way they could gather enough people. Seraphim finally felt a presence, it wasn't clear, he only had the gist of where one could be. He began to walk towards his potential target, narrowing it down from thousands to hundreds.

"I may have one."

As he got within a few rows the crowd jumped up cheering again breaking Seraphim's concentration. He cursed under his breath which drew the ire of a few of the Dreadnought supporters around him. He flashed them a smile and a waved the dreadnought flag he had picked up on the way in and they quickly forgot about him. Closing his eyes he concentrated again locating the source of the force energy, opening his eyes he locked onto the child. He was about six or seven, standing next to what looked like his father. His hair was dark like Seraphim's.

"Maybe I will call him Mini Me?" He said sarcastically.

 

[RedneckLoves]

Rosalin began slowly making her way through the throng of people in her section of the massive stands. All the while keeping focused on that inner beast as she sent inquiring whisps out among the crowds. She barely noticed the noise, nor did she hear either of her companions even though her ear comm was completely functional. When tapped into the raw power that resides deep within her, almost all her senses dulled to the point of nothingness, so intent was she in her concentration.

Physical boundaries have their limits, however, and Rosalin found one as an unseemly character with slimy green skin and multifaceted eyeballs suddenly barreled straight into her. Torn so abruptly from that most intimate connection with the Force, she very nearly attacked the creature with intent to kill. Reason overcame her in a moment and overruled that decision. This thing was not important. They had important things to accomplish here and taking the time to punish it would be a waste of time. Having made this decision in a matter of moments, Rosalin simply stood back up and clenched her fists as the thing lumbered on by with no idea of the destruction it had nearly caused.

Returning to the matter at hand, she went back within herself to reestablish the connection to the power. Firmly in control once more, she almost instantly felt a tiny vibration in one of the searching tendrils. There was something connected to the Force nearby. What or who it was remained to be seen. Rosalin opened her eyes and began walking purposefully in the direction of the vibration, still holding firm to the link between herself and the power.

 

[Feather]

"'Mini Me?' That's darling. Now if you get matching tattoos, that will be perfect." Besef rested his arms on the rail now, one elbow propped up to support his chin in his hand. This way, he could reach up and secure the device in his ear without being obvious - and he had to, a this point. The roaring of the crowd demanded that he keep his earpiece pressed close in order to hear anything, but it was of little inconvenience. He could lounge against the rail and pretend to be interested in the game while idly conversing with his associates and lazily feeling out among the people behind him.

And that's what his effort was, at the moment. Lazy. Unrushed, unhurried. He found no reason for urgency; his searching wouldn't be made any more efficient by increasing his speed. No need to be frantic. The game was barely into its second half, and its spectators were enthralled. The crowd wasn't going anywhere soon. The three of them had ensured that, so why rush? With this in mind, Besef let his eyes drift halfway shut and extended his senses out among the little wisps of Force that he had extended behind him.

After a fruitless couple of minutes, the Firrerreo exhaled through his nose and pushed himself upright. "No luck over here, it seems," he murmured. "I think I'll make my way around the stands, head towards one of you." Once again he stretched languidly, reminiscent of some lithe jungle cat as his back arched. Deliberate, measured steps carried him away from his rail, the loose fabric of his pants fluttering lightly with each stride. "Do either of you need an extra pair of hands? Or a winning smile, perhaps?"

 

[Braden]

Seraphim moved closer to the child, the scenarios flashing in his head. To take him by force? diplomacy? Show of might? He was undecided but he was getting closer by the second. 'Diplomacy' he thought 'and if all else fails he has a light-saber'. Before he got closer he taped on his ear.

"Besef, maybe circle round to me. Just encase the dad and his friends try to cause some trouble."

Finally approaching the pair, he gave them both a big smile.

"Good match isn't it?"

He took an empty seat next to the son, he began reaching out with the force probing at the father's mind trying to ease his trepidation.

 

[Eccles]

The kid turned to Seraphim and nodded enthusiastically, but the father didn't seem to notice the young Sith as he was too focused on the game "What!? That's a dive! Ref! Come one!" he yelled and suddenly several others jumped up too in order to curse and threaten the referee. The kid joined in after a moment of hesitation and repeated his dad's words, not really understanding what was happening but nevertheless eager to be part of the outrage his father had initiated.

Seraphim had stumbled in a section filled with sport fanatics and the dad seemed to be the kind that doesn't take shit from anyone. His forearms were huge, his neck was thick and wrists and neck were adorned with cheap, but fancy looking, jewelry. The more Seraphim kept probing into the father's mind to ease his trepidation, the more aggressive he began to rile up his fellow supporters to curse and verbally threaten the referees and the players of the opponent's team. If the Sith kept this up, there'd be chaos.

 

[RedneckLoves]

Rosalin was vaguely aware of the commotion around her. Apparently whatever meaningless game was being played was a good one with plenty of action. The crowds in the stands roared and screamed intermittently with either rage or excitement, depending on which team they were rooting for.

All of this was of no concern to the quiet Sith as she made her way through them all with her eyes half closed and her senses turned inwards.There was definitely a person with a connection to the Force nearby. She could feel the connection intimately and felt as if she might know the person as an old friend. Of course she'd never met anyone from this disgusting planet, the sense of familiarity came only from the connection to the vast river of power that was the Force.

It wasn't long before she came within sight of the source of it. Raising her eyes from the floor, she gazed around at the crowd immediately before her eyes scanning intently. With the precision of a sniper blast, her eyes focused on a girl. Almost a woman, in fact. She was a twi'lek, red in color, and looked to be at maturity but not old by any means. She was only a few rows up.

Rosalin made her way through the throng, using slight emanations of the Force to push those weaklings that might have impeded her progress away from her. After a minute she had reached the row with the force sensitive twi'lek. Moving with grace, she sat next to the young woman in a seat vacated very recently by Rosalin's force suggestion to the man that had been sitting there. After settling for a minute and after waiting through another wave of rowdy shouting from the crowd, she spoke to the woman.

"What is your name, young one?"

 

[Feather]

A low purr rose from Besef's throat at Seraphim's request, instantly lost in the rush of the crowd but resonating enough to register over the communicator, delicately attuned to the timbre of his voice specifically. It was a handy thing which ensured that both speaker and listener would be able to communicate with near-crystal clarity, so long as the earpiece was in place. "Mm. On my way." He stood, stretched once again, and causally began making his way around the stadium. Like all of his movements, his pace now was by no means rushed or hurried. He sidestepped citizens who tried to push past him, clearing the path as often as he needed. There was no need to rush, yet. He'd get there soon enough. Rushing would draw attention, and attention wasn't what they wanted. Not yet.

When the crowd rose to its feet to cheer or argue with officials, he'd weave around and through, closing the gap between him and his destination. There was still plenty of distance between him and Seraphim, but it steadily shrank. And no further effort was wasted trying to search out any other Force-sensitive individuals as he passed; if Seraphim - and possibly Rosalin - had both found their own quarry, their hands would be full enough.

 

[Braden]

Seraphim could feel the anger and violence in the father. Perhaps it had been passed onto the son setting the stage for an easy conversion to the Dark Side. Looking around him he could feel the annomisty in the crowd, some were itching for a fight. Hooligans, what was he going to do. Reaching into his jacket he placed his left hand on his saber ready to act when the time came to it. Something else happened on the field enticing the crowd to scream louder, enough time for him to quickly speak to his comrades without being heard by the son.

"Looks like its about to get rough in here. Keep on your toes."

As the crowd settled down, he looked over to the stewards who were standing ready to act against the violence. A number of police behind them as well. Leaving the father's mind behind he began to probe into one of the more agitated stewards who looked close to the edge. He began to feed him thoughts of fear and anger, after a time he looked ready to snap. The bonfire was built now it needed a match. Reaching out with the force to the pitch, he found the man who had so riled up the dad. Following him closely he waited for him to get close to another player before pushing out with the force making him trip. The ref blew the whistle again and Seraphim tensed ready for the spark.

 

[Eccles]

The young Twi'lek frowned at Rosalin and tried to look around, searching for someone. "Where's Rik? You're in his seat." she asked Rosalin and stood up to get a better look in all directions. She had come to the match with her boyfriend, who was the big sportsfan of the two so it was really weird that he'd just up and leave. Especially without telling her about it. It seemed that, although she'd outright deny it to her friends, she was caught up in the game a bit too much than she'd like. Frack she thought and why is this girl still looking at me?

____

Somewhere else in the stadium Seraphim was about to get what he wanted. Having orchistrated a violent outburst from the entire section he watched how dozens of riled up supporters, including the father, jumped from their seats and approached the railing separating them from the field. The reply from the steward was much too agressive as he took the father by the collar and smashed his head against the railing, knocking him out, before launching at another supporter with a terrifying scream. The steward had built up decades of anger towards the hooligans that kept destroying the stadium and the town, giving the sport he loved a bad name. Today, for some reason he couldn't quite understand, he'd had enough and was going to vent all that anger by beating those miscreants to pulp.

The Force-sensitive kid was hesitant, confused, he had seen the insults as a game but found this new development scary. He was afraid, his eyes were moist, and he started sobbing slowly. Seraphim had a choice to either comfort him, or further escalate the situation, prompting, perhaps, to an outburst wherein the kid channeled the Force. The latter would certainly test whether his Force-sensitivity was strong enough to become Sith.

 

[RedneckLoves]

Rosalin smiled kindly at the girl, but pointedly ignored her question. She would rather take the girl willingly instead of by force. As the twi'lek stood up and looked around her her companion, Rosalin used the power deep within her to push suggestions at her.

Hush, it's all alright. Your friend simply went to the restroom. Sit down and talk to me, I am a friend. I wish to know about you. Tell me child, what is your name?

Rosalin could feel the power within this young girl and knew that she would make a powerful Sith once she was properly trained. It occurred to Rosalin that the girl might not even know she was force sensitive. If that was the case it may be more difficult to get her to come with them willingly. Either way, though, Rosalin knew that this young woman would be making the trip to Korriban very soon, whether she wanted to or not.

 

[Feather]

The commotion moved as a slow, subtle wave among the crowd, rippling through supporters and rivals alike. Fans stood to yell and berate the officials, shouts and foul words were lobbed through the air. Among them moved Besef, weaving through narrow openings in the crowd and lithe in the way his body contorted to avoid any contact beyond just a subtle brush of leather. His movements were less lax, now; there was a touch more urgency in his motions as he navigated the stands. "You started without me," he mumbled under his breath. "You can't start without me, that's hardly fa--" A sudden rush of motion from the corner of his eye was his only warning before a solid mass roiled past him to slam into the safety rail. Besef blinked, wide eyes staring at the trandoshan who would have smeared him against the stands had he been just a step or two ahead of where he'd been. "Ah--" The defensive Force that had welled up inside him threatened to burst forth and send the trandoshan flying back a few seats, but with a few careful breaths Besef forced it down. Now was not the time or the place. He needed to save his strength if any conflict arose later. But not right now.

The huge reptilian humanoid huffed, shouting verbal attacks in its native tongue and gesticulating wildly at the field. Besef began edged quietly around him, careful not to draw attention lest he become the object of the lizard's fury. Soon enough he had moved far enough away where he could securely turn his back and continue weaving fluidly through the crowd. He was closer, now, and he could make out Seraphim's shape a handful of rows away. It wouldn't be long before he'd reach his associate. But he wasn't there quite yet.

 

[Braden]

Seraphim could feel the child's fear, the emotion enhanced by the force was flowing from him. But even someone not trained in the arts could see the child was afraid. But what would come next was the key, the answer to the question he asked. Could he do it, could he tap into that reservoir of power. Seraphim looked over his shoulder to see the father attacked again, he only watched, it was the source of the child anguish. Instead he kept his eyes open for anyone who would interfear with the child. One man came from behind the kid, looking to strike out at, well something. Side stepping the child, Seraphim jumped up onto the row behind before delivering a punt to the side of the head felling him in one strike. The body fell behind the boy as Seraphim waited for him to burst.

 

[Eccles]

The Twi'lek girl wavered to Rosalin's persuasion but the sweet words of the Sith could not convince her "He wouldn't go without telling me" she said, still resisting the Sith's reach as the suggestions did not go through. Apparently the girl was too willful, too Force-sensitive perhaps, for that trick to work on her. "Tell me where he is!" the girl suddenly cried, her eyes moist, he fists clenched. She was clearly afraid, not for herself, but for whatever this stranger had done to her boyfriend. The Force around her intensified. If Rosalin kept this up many people in the stadium would not make it out alive.

---

The child jerked his head around, watching Seraphim fell a man with one single blow and the boy jumped up with a screech. He was scared, but violence seemed not in his nature and instead he ran for it. Away from the fighting, away from his father, away from the violent man and into the direction of Besef and the huge reptilian. If Seraphim wanted to bring this kid home to Korriban, he had better catch him.

 

[RedneckLoves]

Rosalin sighed audibly. This girl was not going to make it easy on her.

"Sit down and stop causing a scene, you foolish girl."

She saw no way to get the twi'lek to calm down other than simply stating the truth, so that's what she did.

"I sent your friend away, but I did nothing to harm him. He had a sudden intense urge to find something quite specific to drink. I imagine he is having a very good time somewhere around here."

Rosalin gently put her hand out to the girl, gesturing for her to sit down. Abandoning the course of manipulating her with the Force, instead she sought to help her understand the situation. It was, after all, going to be an exciting journey for her.

"Are you aware that you have a very strong connection to the Force, young one? It is an irreplaceable gift and one that can be fully utilized with proper training. Your future is limitless!"

 

[Braden]

"Besef, frak. He's coming your way."

Seraphim jumped down from the row behind him and quickly made his way after the child. On open ground he would have caught the child within seconds, but in the crowd the kid the edge. Able to weave in and out, where Seraphim had to make his way around or over. Knowing that he had to use force now on the child he began to channel energy into his right arm, it was much harder whilst he was moving but it slowly began to build.

"Roslin, I would probably say hurry up. This riot is getting worse."

 

[Feather]

"I see him, I see him." Leaving the trandoshan to yell indiscriminately at the game, Besef turned his attention toward his colleague - and their quarry. It couldn't have been anyone else; aside from Seraphim, the boy was the only source of Force energy that Besef in the immediate area. Sharp, alert eyes passed swiftly over the scene before him, over the child that was breaking away from the epicenter of chaos. Thoughts raced through different possibilities, different ways this could end. Would the child lash out at those around him? The father seemed distracted enough, they'd have to move the boy quickly. He'd have to intercept the child, perhaps. There was still opportunity to capture the boy without seriously injuring him, but it would be delicate. Or, on another vein entirely, they could blow the entire side of the stadium to bits. It wouldn't be pretty by any means, and it would sap much of their resources, but it was... an option.

The deaths were a downside as well, he supposed.

He made a decision in that moment, abandoning his current course to hop up a row of seats, then another, then a third, bracing his hands on the back of the row and vaulting easily over the seat-backs. He now stood directly in the boy's path, motionless, letting the crowd around him jostle past. "Hey, kiddo," he murmured. "Easy, now. Nice and easy." With the volume of the growing riot around him, he didn't expect the boy to hear him, but he used his quiet words to center his own control of the Force within his own body. He didn't know how the youngster would react. It could be passive, it could be violent. Besef was preparing for the latter, bracing for any vicious outburst of Force from the panicking child.

 

[Eccles]

The Twi'lek girl shot an angry look at Rosalin, "You send him away? Why would he listen? You're such a liar, why would I listen to another word?" she slapped Rosalin's hand away and her entire body was tensing up, preparing, no doubt, for an outburst that would escalate things even further.

---

The kid saw Besef in his path and jumped a row down to brush passed him. He was scared, but his Force-sensitivty allowed him to keep a good overview of the possible routes to take through the many sports fans and the reflexes needed to take them at a last minute. Seraphim and Besef might lose him as their bigger size made it nigh impossible to move through the crowd as swiftly as the child did. Catching him meant thinking of something better than just running after him.