Forcast

[TweedPawn]

Jean Lafitte Leblanc had a particular look to him. His outfit, a tad of the casual for most business types, was still impeccably well-pressed. Jean had a sense of how to combine colors. His hair was well groomed. His shoes were polished. The look of money, on a shoestring budget. Accountants were stiffed these days. Jean always got his revenge, but only during tax season when the cheapskates realized that they couldn't explain to the galaxy why they suddenly had money ties to illegal gambling rings.

But today, Jean found that he was justified in a light lunch with proper plates and forks. There was a little musing to himself. He thought of the way anyone assumed a restaurant had class the minute water was served in stemmed glasses with ice. He was also perplexed why some establishments insisted on serving messy soups and sandwiches to the suits. Jean ordered a salad. He preferred avoiding dry cleaners.

He was unassuming. He tailored himself strictly for that. As the holonet started to broadcast the latest sports highlights, Jean already knew who won. He arranged the losses himself. Not enough to favor any team. But to calculate who would draw the best crowds during the final tournaments. A numbers game combined with marketing.

But there was a war out too. Wasn't there? Jean loved seeing war on the news, it distracted politicians and civilians from the dastardly deeds of his clients. Jean continued to eat his salad. He paid the staff, tipped precisely 15 percent, and grabbed his briefcase. He had some numbers to review. Apparently certain industries were interested in investing on certain technologies that could be mass produced for the war's money machines. There was a need to quantify the resources, the technologies, and even the demographics of the bodies. It was a thankless job.

The briefcase held his current findings. Nothing too sensitive, but a fancy briefcase painted Jean as a target for idiots who assumed that all briefcases held stacks of money. The holonet continued to predict potential winners of the races. But Jean already knew that answer without the books. That little trick was all in his head, an aspect he could never quite explain. It was like an instinct that was never wrong. He knew who was going to win.

But it did not reveal everything on a whim. Life, regrettably, was full of surprising....

 

[GABA]

Uyter.

She was home.

Or at least, where she was born and spent her first few years with a family who never cared to bother with her after she was taken to the Jedi. She did hold her curiosities about them, wanting to know their names, who were her siblings, and if there were any other force latent relatives. It wasn't usual to hold such curiosities as many padawans would ask for her assistance as she knew the back doors of security protocols and was worth the chocolate exchange fee in the end. However, she would never get to know them later in life as they had passed a few years earlier from a disease, easily curable by galactic standards, but they were the outliers. According to some neighbors in their small farming town, they blamed their bad luck and misfortunes on their youngest daughter.

"She was the cutest thing!" They would tell her not realizing the babe they spoke of sat before them at their kitchen table, "But she was too clever, too smart to be a farm hand, I just don't think they knew what to do with 'er." The elderly couple looked at one another, and then at Kyrene, uneasiness expressed on their faces. "The monks said she was destined for great things, perhaps one day, we'll see her leading that Jedi Army, imagine that! A farmer turned hero!"

Kyrene had thanked them for their time, leaving them with the blessings of their gods.

She wasn't sure where to go next as she stood atop of the hill, looking down at the elderly couple's homestead. Night had long since fallen and the stars were at their peak in the sky and no moon to steal their light. Kyrene felt lost still, she was receiving more questions than answers, like the mythical hydra, thus asking one question only sprouted 2 more and so on. The darkness grew around herself in her annoyance and agitation. The grass and flowers withered up beside her, blackening and crumbling as she tried to force herself to understand unknown answers. They knew more than what they were telling you... she heard herself think, they feared that little girl all those years ago and there was something about you that was uncanny...

The next morning, news spread quickly through the town the elderly couple had passed. They had not shown up for blessing, first time in 65 years, and a monk had found the couple, still in their beds, having passed away that night.

Kyrene left town that afternoon, heading back into the city, dressed in Uyter's traditional women's clothing, layers of colorful fabric dresses and flowers stitched in the hems, loose, not too tight fitting, allowing her to make agile movements if needed. Her lightsaber weapon was hidden within an artist's poster carrying tube resting against her back and her satchel heavy with other belongings, giving the more curious population the belief she was an artist of some sort. The train that took her back was bumpy, but comfortably empty allowing the young girl to reflect on her questions in privacy. Exiting off at the first station, she stopped at a small cafe not too far from the business district. Quiet, but popular spot, she wasn't hoping to find to many surprises.

The young blonde reached for the door, only to have it to fling out, catching the girl off guard and bumping into a table behind her, spilling wine glasses in the laps of now angry business patrons. Kyrene swiftly apologized to those at the table behind her while internally kicking herself for not paying attention to her senses. Her mind was truly distracted. She turned to look at the guilty individual in a sharp suit and briefcase, "By the gods, be careful!" she told him.

 

[TweedPawn]

Jean's eagle-like eyes looked at the girl before him. He noted the way she was dressed. How traditional it was, and the way it carried her like a needle work pillow. She looked like what some would call a creative. Jean stared. Not at any particular feature, but to immediately size up if she was worth becoming concerned about. He had a sense that he should be cautious around her, though he couldn't place why. She was probably a purse snatcher.

With the thought now in his mind, Jean began to sharply glance his surroundings and search his pockets. With everything accounted for, he refocused once more to the woman adjusting herself. He felt more confident now that she wasn't a threat.

"Aren't you quaint?" He replied. It carried a tone with it. Like someone appraising an old quilt, or farm tool. His fingers tightened around the handle of his briefcase. His expression showed no regret for causing the girl's clumsy entrance. He had nothing to do with it. Farm girls ought to be nimble enough to avoid hazards.

Still, he would preferred not to be noticed. He focused his eyes on hers now.

" Forget you saw me." He commanded. It was a strange trick he found useful. Jean wasn't sure if it was a tone or the way he commanded authority that caused it to work, but sometimes it was like a light went off in the other's mind. It had a few failures, but the dull gazes were the surprising factor. He wasn't sure how to explain it.

He began to carry on again.

 

[GABA]

Did he just call me quaint?

She gave the man a puzzled look and took a step backwards. His accent and the way he dressed told her he was from off-world. Though what surprised her the most was what he said next. Something in the Force stirred, touching her own thoughts. It was sweet and desirable and she wanted to follow what he suggested, but Kyrene was too strong willed. She knew this game, one she was very diverse in playing across the galaxy. He definitely wasn't Jedi, or she didn't think he was, but he didn't necessarily ring sith either. Kyrene though, decided to play his game, she wanted to know what this guy was up to for going as far as making her trying to forget who he was.

"I forgot..." she spoke softly, letting him believe his trick work as she turned around to the table behind her and excused herself for the mess she had caused, offering to pay for it as she played the clumsy blonde, knocking over the glasses again and then the bottle as she tried to help clean up.

The man carried on down the street, and Kyrene waited until he nearly vanished in the crowd before she buried her presence in the Force and gave chase. Tracking was something she had become quite clever at performing, having tracked some individuals across the galaxy. It was no easy task, but as long as he stayed on this world, she would have him and find out who the exactly he was trying to be cute with his tricks.

 

[TweedPawn]

Satisfied, Jean continued walking. He continued to watch his surroundings, making sure that no one else wanted to think of him as an easy pickpocket. After a few blocks, he reached a moderately busy business district of this farmtown. It had a spaceport and that was possibly the only thing keeping this place afloat. Jean wished that his flight was much sooner.

He was bored in this place. But boring places were good for shady business. The population was complacent. While the locals bristled at Jean's formality and coldness, they left him alone. Jean found a clean bench. Being forceful, as he had been towards that farmgirl, was draining. He wasn't sure why. It was a natural way for him to interact with others. Then again, many considered jogging just as naturally tiring.

Jean placed the briefcase in his lap. His eyes gazed around him. So far no one looked shifty. Indeed, he was the shady looking part of this town. War would probably never reach this place in earnest. Sure, some military forces would flex muscle, but no one would get too hurt.

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something to worry about. It was like he was forgetting something. Jean chewed a little on the inside of his mouth. What was his forgetting? What was he missing?

 

[GABA]

Kyrene's hand slipped into her bag while she weaved in and out of the crowd, the top of his head was easy to pick out as he stood just a little taller than the rest of the city folk who were around him. She felt the cold stone and removed her obsidian blade, holding it in a reversed grip as not to accidentally cut someone who had gotten too close to her while she tried to pass them. The girl did have her saber, but it tended to make too much noise and ruckus.

Her steps were light and the people around her seemed to know they needed to move as they cleared her a path for the curious man with the suitcase. She thought of the dozens of scenario that could happen when she caught him, from simply doing nothing to accepting her destiny and carving him into steaks and feeding him to the wolves. They all seemed like logical ideas more or less to the young girl, especially given he thought her as quaint. The thought of being called that seemed to be worst than being called small or weak, in fact, it seemed liked all those things in one word and it was a trigger for Kyrene.

Turning a corner she paused, staying out of sight while she studied him for a moment. He seemed fairly confident, the way he dressed and carried himself on this side of town in general was odd. He stuck out, like a sore on a model's lip, it would be long before someone else would decide his fate and she would luck out.

The well dressed man would feel something press between his shoulder blades and a cold breeze brush his ear followed with the words, "By the gods, you should be very careful." Her lips were nearly touching his ear and she pressed harder into his back with the blade. "Don't get up, I'm going to join you." she told him lifting the blade before taking a seat next to him.

"We've crossed paths for a reason, I wouldn't have bothered with you, except that trick you tried, that was something quite unusual for any normal individual to preform." she said

 

[TweedPawn]

Jean became unsettled at first. His mind seeking a reason for why this exact scenario was now happening. This girl should have still been cleaning the stains from the carpet of the restaurant. Yet, here she was, pointing a knife into his back. His heart raced, but his face remained stern. It was always unsettling when weapons were involved. He had been in similar situations.

He knew the routine. Calmly listen, make a counter offer, and then negotiate. He gave a sideways glance. One thing had been proven correct, this was indeed a charlatan of a farmgirl. Jean felt his mouth tighten as the conversation began.

"It is merely psychological. Many sentient species feel compelled to avoid trouble when faced with a firm command. Some even convince themselves to actually forget. It is the same as when one is told a lie, but when said firmly, the lie is believed to be a truth." Jean calmly said. He felt compelled to insult her intelligence, but decided against it. After all, she had managed to get his guard down earlier, had she not?

"With enough practice, you can do it yourself. And you will find life a tad more convenient."

 

[GABA]

It is the same as when one is told a lie, but when said firmly, the lie is believed to be a truth.

Kyrene tilted her head slightly, she knew that for certain. She was the product of that while under the Jedi Order, and now she was on the search for truth on who she was. In fact, it was a frustrating search as she continued to find more questions atop of the questions already asked.

"Not that easy to explain, its a little more than psychological what you did back there." she told him, "I felt it." Kyrene gave him a glance in return, still gripping her knife as it rested under her forearm, out of sight.

"And now, life is not as convenient because your trick didn't work, and for someone keen on using such tricks means you're hiding something regardless of how confident you are presenting yourself." she raised an eyebrow, "Over-confident as you sit in this part of town in your fancy suite and how you grip so tightly onto that suitcase, which must carry something important or else why would you hold it on your lap."

Kyrene gave a nonchalant shrug, "I frankly don't care though what you have in your suitcase, but I am more curious about how much you know on lying."

 

[TweedPawn]

"What I know about lying?" he parroted. He allowed a pause in the air. His own thoughts collecting, trying to decipher what this woman was referring to. Was this code for some organization? What was she insinuating?

"And you claim that you felt it? Interesting. I never heard such a response before. I can only account for myself, but what I use is merely mind tricks pulled from a datapad. A little article about presentation of the self, inflection in your voice, and with just the right gaze you can convince many that you are much more than the truth. The article stated that the most common reaction will be compliance. Because many sentients desire to simply avoid trouble."

Jean crossed his legs. He slyly slid his hand under his jacket, preparing to use the briefcase if necessary. He had a small pistol under his coat. It was nothing lethal, but it could knock a threat off their feet. It was perfectly legal, given its low power, but Jean wished he could modify the weapon.

"Other sentients will simply find you overly-confident. Perhaps arrogant. But to feel it. It is not a reaction documented in the article. Or should I pat myself on the back for transcending a two-credit pseudo-psychology editorial? You aren't attributing powers to me, are you?" he raised an eyebrow.

 

[GABA]

"An editorial can put all the science they want behind what you did, but it was more than just an over-confident suggestion, there was a power behind it and I am certain you are able to touch the Force." Her eyes scanned the area as she tried to decipher the man's intentions; she knew there were undocumented Force sensitives in the galaxy, but their abilities were more on the lines of extremely lucky.

"Besides, you shouldn't believe everything you read. Question it, its ok to be a skeptic." Kyrene said and sighed heavily as she thought about her own skepticism within the Order and where it has lead her now. She let her silence be filled by some yells of a passerby as they tried to flag down others in the street. There was a bit of envy she felt to their ignorance and even to the man beside her. She was starting to believe he didn't belong to any Order and was free to do as he wished with his power.

"Be careful of your trick though, next time you might try it on the wrong person. As you know there is a war out there, both sides will recruit to the cause and claim those who resist as traitors." Kyrene explained, "They lie and cheat you into doing what they believe is right for you. They don't trust or listen, or take fault for their mistakes, instead they misplace blame and try to fix you into something of their vision."

Kyrene tucked her knife in her sleeve as another individual joined them on the bench. It made her rather uncomfortable now as she was stuck between the man and a rather large and greasy trandoshan; and she couldn't tell if it was the streets she smelled or the lizard that took a seat beside her.

"Your freedom is a delusion."

 

[TweedPawn]

"i have come across those who attribute divine power to me." Jean said. Who was this girl? Why was she telling him all of this? His steely eyes studied her. He tried to pin down her organization. She spoke of those force-users. Jean knew of the concept too well. But it understood its full potential poorly. He knew first hand that one could get life altering visions, and he assumed that was what this woman was really looking for. But mind alteration? If such a thing were true then what was stopping the big wigs from banning any display of using the Force?

Or perhaps that "holy order" of monks was actually a means to control that population. It was a gig that held no interest for Jean. Even as the rank trandoshan sat nearby, Jean could only focus what this girl was wanting from him. No one talked like this without a sales pitch.

"Of course I know that. My clients have very far reaching fingers and can track me any where. It would be regrettable if something was to cause a distraction for me." The implication was clear. This was a man with very dangerous business associates. Even if he was killed on the spot, Jean's vengence would come to this girl. They would find her and make her pay.

"Why are you telling me this, any way?" he asked.

 

[GABA]

Kyrene's gaze fell onto the buildings ahead of them, but it wasn't necessarily what she was looking at, it more like looking through them as she listened to his response.

"Shame...sounds like your own freedom is a delusion also." she spoke as he warned her of the repercussions if something were ever to happen to him while on a job. Death did not scare the girl, she understood its many purposes. She had seen and felt it, controlled when and decided how it would occur and in the end, she felt no remorse, sadness, or joy for it and it scared her. All her years in the Order, she understood that death was part of life, it was a fate everyone would have to face eventually.

Perhaps it was her purpose as the monks had predicted and why her family feared her so much.

"Why?" The question had caught her off guard, she had followed him, threatened him, and now she sat telling her thoughts about people she once cared for. "Because the next time you will see me, death will be at my side." she explained, "I crave it, yet fear it and maybe if I tell the right people, I will get the right answer."

Kyrene leaned back on the bench, leaning towards the man as the trandoshan had decided they were not going to be leaving anytime soon as he flicked through pages on the holoscreen of his datapad.

"I haven't been getting answers, only more questions."

 

[TweedPawn]

"Uh....huh...." Jean now found himself leaning away. Okay, now that kind of talk was usually followed by a suicide bombing, and Jean certainly wanted nothing to do with it. His body shifted. Instead of the cool and calculating businessman, he seemed nervous. He had no possible idea why this was happening to him today, of all days. Was she a cultist? Ugh, were those extremists bombing temples really more populous than he gave them credit for?

"Tell me, where do you usually get your answers from?" he asked cautiously. He was more worried now about hidden bombs and this woman flying off the deep end than almost anything else in his vicinity now.

 

[GABA]

Kyrene could feel the fear and nervousness flow from the man. She smiled on the inside, feeling a bit of her own justice as to how rude he was at the cafe earlier. The man's uneasiness drowned out the smelly lizard beast beside her while she focused, her eyes fading into gold.

"My answers cannot come from speech, only action." Kyrene spoke, the dark side grew around her. Jean would feel as though he was being wrapped in a cold, wet blanket as the energy grew stronger. The Trandoshan shifted, he clearly was uncomfortable, but was unable to move as he dropped his datapad.

"So, your fear is in a right place..." The trandoshan grabbed his chest and hissed, "Because I'm not quaint..." The lizard feel on the ground, pain in his eyes as he looked to the two for help before his last breath escaped his lungs.

Kyrene leapt to her feet, stumbling back and screamed, "SITH! He's a SITH! Clear the area!"