Forged by Fire: The Heist

[Evan Jarin Tedronai]

Turthang, Ore Duke Mineral Storage Depot, Shu-Torun.
​

A torrid wind blew around the dark robed figure leaning against an ashen boulder in the rocky outcropping atop the blackened hill that overlooked one of the Ore Duke’s many ore warehouses, camouflaged well by the landscape, and by a curious trick of light that tended to blur its image to any who might be observing. After some time, the cloaked individual became a bit easier to see, straightening and reaching out one hand, palm upwards toward the sky. At the same time, a weak, lower wind, barely more than a breeze, whipped over and through the facility, snaking through its courtyard, windows, corridors, and even making it so far as one of the lower level storerooms before dying out. With a grunt, the figure nodded, withdrew its hand, and waited.


Just as I thought. Decently guarded, but not particularly alert, and likely has not been for some time. After all, who else truly lives on this planet except those who serve the dukes? They would be stealing from themselves.


That worked out well for what he was planning. Evan managed a tight smile. Complacency, something that was a luxury in the galaxy these days, combined with the even more scarce wealth. It amazed him that even with all they had been fortunate to acquire, and to hold in these troubled times, that they were still greedy enough to try to every last credit out of anyone who was not an aristocrat, an enforcer working for them, or a particularly skilled dancer.


Then again, are you really? Most of the Jedi have no issue with branding you a traitor on par with the worst of the Exiles simply because you have made exactly one choice that is actually yours after serving them for nearly twenty-five years. The fact that I even have to do this just to get a chance to defend myself shows how ridiculous everything is right now. To think I would need a lightsaber to defend myself from a Jedi stabbing me in the back in the night...and they still claim to not be hypocrites.

A tingling in the Force.
​

Evan turned towards the direction of one of his wards of air he held, designed to warn him against anything solid passing through them. This one was angled some thirty feet behind him. He repressed a sigh, then dropped his wards, and reached out with the Force, reapplying the slight bending of light to make him harder for anyone to focus on. In theory, it should be possible to make himself disappear completely, but he had not quite figured out how to do that-at least not that he was comfortable with yet. Playing with light was tricky, and if one was not careful, dangerous.


Keeping low and making sure to keep as close to the rocks he could, he circled back around the other side of the hill, away from the presence he felt approaching the top.

Kynigos.
​

The mercenary was useful, to be sure, if the showdown with the Duke’s men and the founding of their little rebellion was any indication. But Evan doubted he had taken up with their cause out of any idealistic sentiment. That was fine to him-after all, most people, even most Jedi, and even him were self-interested. If that worked in a way that could benefit what he had in mind, he would put up with a few...indiscretions...along the way. From what he could tell, no government was built without a bit of blood on its hands...and he just hoped that what he had in mind meant far less than it would have otherwise.


Still, I cannot let him sense that I am weak. I’ve seen men like him before, they are like Akk hounds, loyal to you as long as you feed him meat and show dominance. Let that slip, however, and he will nip at you or worse…


When he had circled around the hill, his robes leaving an ashen trail behind him as they swept over blackened ash and rock, he reached out, and, with a bit of a strain, whisked up the nearby winds to mask the sound of his footsteps. Six or so feet behind the mercenary, he dropped both at the same time, and spoke.


“Kynigos. Thank you for agreeing to come with me on this task. You will, of course, be compensated from whatever we liberate from the Dukes…”

He gave the man a slight smile, wiping away a small trickle of sweat from his brow. He hoped the other man assumed it was from the heat and not from his effort.

 

[Kynigos]

Out of all the planets in the Galaxy, it was Sho-Torun that Kynigos resembled most. Intense, fiery, and corrupt. These three little words could equally define himself or the planet. With the recent uprising, the volcanic world had become quite profitable, prompting Kynigos to stick around.

So here he was, crouched down, waiting in silence for his most recent client to arrive. The air was hot and stuffy, only giving more reason for Kynigos to ignore his helmet. He hated the thing, even if it was supposed to do him some good. It was oversized and clumsy, and Kynigos wanted people to see his face.

A man like Kynigos would keep his identity a secret if he were wise, but Kynigos lacked wisdom. He made up for it with the aggression of a starving wolf, and the cunningness of a desert viper. While most men seemed to hide away their demons, Kynigos flaunted them. Embraced them even. Sure, he could hide away the monster when the time called for it, but typically he chose not to.

There was a fire in his chest. A raging inferno of ambition that threatened to ingulf the world around him. Perhaps this is what made Kynigos unique. It most certainly made him dangerous.

Often, he was unpredictable. Like a raging storm, Kynigos' rage may emerge from no where, only to disappear moments later. It took no provocation. The only reason Kynigos needed was an opportunity. Give him and inch, and he'll take a mile. Give him a blaster, and he'll take a life.

The Client. His name was Evan, but in all reality, He was nothing more then a Client.

The Client was all that stood between Kynigos and a bloodbath. They'd been together in the initial moments of this planet's impending revolution, and he'd put on quite the display. It didn't take long for Kynigos to pick his side. Evan could be quite the ally; quite the profit.

Kynigos would play puppet for now, and as long as it suited him. But make no mistake; the moment the endeavor ceases to be worthwhile, Kynigos won't hesitate to re-direct his fire. Like a Lion in the circus, Kynigos will put on a show, but one should never forget that he'll never truly be tamed.

-
Evan called from behind, causing Kynigos to stand slowly and face the man.

Kynigos' face showed no emotion. Not a smile. Not a grimace. Not even any sort of sign of acknowledgement. He simply stated the man down as he spoke.

"Let's skip the pleasantries. I haven't got time for it, and neither do you." Kynigos responded, almost immediately after the other man stopped talking.


He watched as the man lifted a hand up to wipe away his face. He took little note of it. Whether Evan was tired, or he was hot, Kynigos couldn't care less. Whether this operation succeeded or failed, Kynigos would not walk away empty handed. After all, he was not above looting corpses...