Ask Low on Cloud Nine

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Bespin
Some Time After the Escape
From Mataou



A number of days had passed since the boy had landed at the colony. The fees for an unprompted landing were steep, but there was a heavy credit-write off that applied to those who had to conduct an emergency landing. Laeonas' conditions upon arrival had surprised the officials that came to collect him-- his features were gaunt, his face was unshaven, and his ribs had begun to stick out due to a solid two weeks in space without food.

His story was, seemingly, very simple; he'd managed to escape the quarantine of an AMS infected planet with a ship. It wasn't a strict lie-- it simply left out the relevant details that he wasn't native to the planet, and that the ship he was in had escaped.

The quarantine that he had been placed under had ended the previous day. The port authority had taken the liberties of searching and sanitizing his ship, and Laeonas was honestly surprised that they hadn't found some cache of spice he wasn't aware of. Apparently the ship's only relevant cargo had in fact been people-- which the port authority didn't bother to investigate, thankfully for him.

He'd been given a small apartment, hearty rations, and had all of his personal effects returned to him-- including his bountiful pile of beskar bars, his rifle, vibrosword, and lightsaber. They had questioned him on all of this, particularly the beskar and the Sith weapon, but he had calmly replied that they'd belonged to his "associates," who hadn't been able to escape despite him having loaded the cargo. Another half truth, but one they couldn't disprove.

The Sith blade almost appeared non-functional after all Laeo had done to it when he realized the grip he'd been holding was made from the skin of a man; parts of the casing had cracked, the grip had been violently ripped off with his sharpened finger nails, and he'd tossed it against the bulkhead so hard that there was still a visible dent.

But it still hummed to life when he slipped it on.

The matter of paying off the port authority itself was another matter entirely. Laeonas had needed to slip into the number of digital accounts he possessed in order to scrounge enough credits to pay the fees for an impromptu landing-- but he'd payed the 2000 credits off with relative ease.

-------------

Staring at the wall across the room, Laeonas had a blank expression on his face. Guilt still overwhelmed his conscience, and the Sith's broken body was still all that greeted him when he closed his eyes.

Drink was the only solution he had, as temporary as it was. The boy wondered if the woman's life had meant something; if there was consequence to her death. That wasn't for him to determine however.

It was for him to learn.​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music OOC

He had come from the void. Before existence...nothing. Then a big bang. It was the big bang of his father ejaculating into his mother as he banged her, and what came from that big bang was Kayden Skyler. He had not been alone. The womb of his mother had been shared by one other. The boy had a sister, the girl had a brother, and the two had been separated as chlidren of boy and girl to find each other as teenaged boy and girl.

They had been lost before they had been found, suffering together under the thralldom of their master, their uncle, and who the hell was he if not the brother of their mother or their father? They had never learned, may never learn, and would never care. They had found each other, that brother and that sister, one Kayden and one Kamelle, and they stripped the skin from their uncle’s body and left him to wallow and wail in agony. Then they moved on.

Where are you now..? Kayden asked the viewport. Where did you go..? The amber ball of orange gas gave him no answer. Yet the brother knew that the sister had gone to Mataou, and whether she had left in a lone ship or not was yet unknown. It had not been her own ship, had not been the Wailing, though he might have sworn that he had heard a wailing emanate from that Mataou even before the Hutts’ ships had wailed their lasers upon the surface.

“Where are you...sister?” He asked the air around him. It was cool and quiet, just like his soul, enveloping the man like a void; like a black hole that did not give way to an orange planet or a yellow sun, or a supernova that might seek to swallow it whole. “Where O where did you go?”

Kayden Skyler touched Silence down as its landing struts kissed the surface of the spaceport. Bespin was as alive with activity as ever though there was death lingering in its midst like a mist, and each step that the Sith took to close toward his quarry he could feel that death kiss his skin. Where are you…

His suspicions had been confirmed with or without the Force. If the stars were aligned then any ship to escape Mataou was a ship to be quarantined wherever it ended up, and Kayden had trailed this one from there to here. He found his bounty with the spaceport authorities.

“Who are you?” The port authority asked.

“A concerned citizen,” Kayden answered. The Sith looked more like a concerned citizen in his green jacket and brown pants; like a pilot come to port for business or pleasure and not much else. Both, though. “Word travels like wind, sir, and word has it that a ship just got quarantined with…” He leaned in closer. “...AMS?”

“Ah hell...” The officer snorted. “Got nothing to worry about, pal. We got this under control. Move along.”

“I don’t doubt that, don’t doubt that at all…” Kayden nodded. “Just...I’m with a trader’s guild and all...in a rush to get in and out for their sake...last thing I want is to tell them I’ve been delayed on account of a possible...outbreak?” He smiled. “If you could just tell me what places to avoid, well, the wind won’t travel any further than our circle, sir, if you catch my drift.”

A hand wave later and Kayden found himself pacing the corridor of an apartment complex. He looked simple enough: a fellow resident waltzing along in his green jacket and brown pants, black boots clacking off the floor. No one needed to know about the hilts hiding in said jacket, pants and boots.

In fact, there was only one person in the whole universe who needed to worry about the man who had just entered this apartment complex, and that was his sister or, hmm, whoever his sister was not.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Bright eyes looked down at the empty bottle in his hand. Another drink had slipped down his throat-- but it definitely wasn't enough to satisfy him. Not yet.

The boy was completely naked in the small apartment he'd been temporarily granted. He had a few days to recuperate, buy supplies, and simply appreciate the surprisingly high quality of life on Bespin before he left. The boy had been given free access to the entire colony however, since he was proven completely free from infection; which had surprised the boy, considering the only clothes to escape Mataou had needed three washes through the refresher before they stopped smelling of rotting flesh.

Laeonas was, however, lucky enough to be given some basic clothes, and he was further able to purchase a new wardrobe after accessing some of the larger credit accounts he'd had in reserve. They were all simple, practical garments-- the boy's taste for expensive clothing had been killed by the desire to complete the singular mission of returning home with his riches; splurging on new clothes would've undermined that.

...he was silently glad that he'd managed to save his earrings though.

---------

The doors to the cantina would open, and through them, seemingly an average patron. The only thing that sent the boy with unkempt facial hair and aquamarine eyes apart from the rest, visibly speaking, were the two earrings that sat on his lobes. The plain brown synthread shirt and pants he wore covered up his still toned-- but admittedly thin-- frame, while the black polyleather jacket that wrapped around his torso concealed both his newly acquired lightsaber, and his credits. He wasn't interested in using it, but it was the only weapon he owned that he could reasonably conceal in his current attire.

Besides having an impeccable taste in jewelry, there really wasn't anything that could set him apart from the cantina patrons. Casually, he'd sit at the bar's counter, placing a handful of credit chips down for the Ugnaut bartender to pick up. "Corellian Ale." The boy would say in an uncharacteristically flat tone, not in the mood for idle chatter. Laeonas had tried again and again to reconcile the guilt that overwhelmed his conscience; nothing had worked, so he'd fallen back to his most reliable method of dealing with his problems.

He had emptied his glass three times before the effects of the alcohol had started to set in. Previously the boy had a surprisingly high tolerance, but after losing 18 kilos from 2 weeks of near zero food, Laeonas found himself getting intoxicated far, far quicker. He couldn't possibly anticipate that this was a decision that would cost him. To Laeonas Tannaras, this was just a drink, and tomorrow he'd get back on his new ship and begin to journey home.

That wasn't all that would happen though.​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC

From Silence to Mataou, Mataou to Bespin, starport to apartment complex, apartment to cantina—Kayden had tailed his trail the whole way.

There he sat, one gaunt little man with emerald earrings drowning his sorrows away as though the tears would congeal into new gems. Well, Kayden Skyler knew a thing or two about solidifying liquid; blood had a tendency to coagulate when left out long enough.

“Bloody Cherry,” the man called one seat away from his quarry. A moment later and a glass of dry spiced vodka and sweet rich wine mixed with lemon and tomato juice, pepper and salt, hot sauce and vinegar-garlic, settled itself before the Sith. The bartender had no idea.

“Thanks,” Kayden conveyed as he accepted his glass with a modest sip that ended with an aah! He looked right, spotted a Twi’lek bopping her shoulders to the beats one stool away; and my was she a beauty.

The music was fine, fad, fab; guitar and keyboard, drums and tambourine, all gracing away as though the galaxy was on pause and just telling everyone to chill, chill, chill.

“Don’t worry,” Kayden conveyed to the guy on his left; that gaunt guy in a black jacket over a brown shirt. The older man’s words escape with the lyrics of the overhead speakers as drums and tambourine drifted amid keyboard and guitar.

“About a thing.” Kayden took another sip, then smiled at that guy. “Every little thing is gonna be all right...right?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

In truth, Laeonas hadn't really been paying attention to any one of the cantina's patrons. He honestly couldn't care any less than he already did-- but that became difficult when he was directly addressed. It was at this point that Laeonas' aquamarine eyes broke from the focus on the tall glass sitting in front of him and shifted to the patrons to his right. The two next to him were bopping along to the beat-- to a song he'd never heard before. He gave the nearest one, a slightly shorter but much bulkier human a confused look, before turning away.

The force wasn't ringing any alarms; his peripheral senses weren't showing any indications of a threat. He wasn't about to start reaching out and scanning the room though-- he was already to drunk and apathetic to be bothered. There was nothing to... off about the man; he wore perfectly standard attire, and his demeanor wasn't hostile. This was probably just some guy who wanted to be friendly with his fellow patrons-- hell, maybe he was looking for someone to sleep with.

But who... was this guy?

The look the pale boy gave in response wasn't overtly hostile, but friendly wasn't anywhere close to how it could be described. The green blue of his eyes looked to be boring holes into the other man's soul. The expression Laeonas wore wasn't one of intense thought or concentration though-- he looked exhausted. Weary, depressed, and he obviously hadn't come to the cantina to make friends. Friendly attempts at fraternizing weren't welcome... and anyone who was interested should've known to avoid him.

...but this guy hadn't.

Why in the force's name would anyone try to be friendly to a man who obviously wasn't looking to make friends? The look in Laeonas' eyes were full of wordless cues to ignore him-- to leave him to drink on his own and deal with whatever was making him feel as horrible as he was, on his own. What was the point of trying to make friends with a man who was wordlessly implying that he was not at all interested in making any friends?

Irrational friendliness in a bar wasn't the craziest thing he'd seen though... but this guy wasn't drunk yet. In fact, he'd ordered a drink diluted with a number of different sweeteners and spices. Even partially intoxicated already, Laeonas was already suspect of the friendly gesture... but he didn't show it.

He could be working for the authorities on the station, making sure that the boy wasn't getting into serious trouble, or contact tracing anyone and everyone the boy was around. He could also just be some opportunist, looking to mug an unsuspecting young man by lulling him into a false sense of security.

...or, he could be working for the hutts, looking to track down and capture the man that had wounded the pride of whichever crime lord's vault that he had managed to raid. Perhaps he'd figured out from the authorities who the survivor from Mataou was, and was now looking to collect whatever reward the Hutt Lord had on the boy's head.

...but all of this amounted to partially drunk speculation that the boy couldn't possibly hope to prove.

He'd simply turn his gaze back to his drink, adding a singular "Yeah..." in response. He didn't have much to say past that, and he certainly wasn't interested in conversation.

Ofcourse, that wasn't the only goal of the other man. ​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

“Yeah…” Kayden mimicked. That one word said all the words that neither of them had to say. But I have more to say. So much more. “Yeah I hear ya, buddy.” Those words like the two had been chatting all night and sharing their problems, maybe competing to see who had the bigger problem, but no that’s unfair because the guy who wasn’t Kayden had the bigger problem. He just might not know it yet.

“Don’t worry about a thing.” Kayden chuckled. “That’s my motto in life.” He sipped from his cocktail. He could taste the vodka and wine but they were at a healthy low compared with the tomato and lemon juice. “You got a motto, buddy?”

Whatever the “Nah” or “Yeah” to that question, Kayden would spend a moment staring at the man beside him as though he was just one more Bloody Cherry to drink up.

“Mottos are important. Keep you motivated. Keep you going. Especially if you ever find yourself running from something, well, that motto can remind you that everything’s gonna be all right.”

Kayden would lean in just an inch more, subtle and silent. “I mean, the last thing anyone wants is to not have anything to live for. That would make their life meaningless and their existence forfeit. Like a planet going up in flames...or a lone pilot flying from that planet without sharing his story.”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

More words. On any other night the boy might have been amicable, and further, he might've even appreciated and reciprocated the man's seemingly friendly demeanor. That lack of a desire for social interaction had, however, only made the boy suspicious when the man had ignored his signs of a lack of friendliness.

The boy tried to ignore the words, instinctive pulling at the hairs on his beard with one hand while pressing the glass to his lips with the other. The other human was going off about... mottos? Even though he wasn't making eye contact? Was his self importance so great that he had simply continued on like they were having a conversation? Was he just insane? Was he a conman? Was he trying to lull him into a trap?

Increasingly, Laeonas' lack of a desire to talk, or even hear another person's voice, was making him irritable. He'd grit his teeth a bit, and his fingers would tap on the bar's counter as he listened to the man drone on, this time about a man escaping a destroyed planet, having not told anyone about their life.

His fingers abruptly stopped tapping on the counter, and the boy's hand, which was wrapped around the glass, froze before it could bring the rim to his lips.

He would sit like that for what felt like a few minutes, but was probably less than ten seconds. Laeonas would finally manage to place the glass back down, though his fingers were so tightly wrapped around it that he wouldn't release his grip. Turning to the other human, the boy gave him a look that was almost... incomprehensible.

His eyes were wide-- but they didn't match the panicked look of some man caught in the act, or terrified at the site of something they didn't understand. Those wide eyes matched that of a creature that had just recognized something-- more accurately, someone-- as a threat. There was a quieter current of rage behind the glaring orbs; if this one meant to stop him from achieving his goals, he'd be met with Laeonas' direct opposition. No longer were there any ifs about the other man-- he knew who Laeonas was, and that was enough to make him dangerous.

The boy needed to get home. He needed to get home with access to all of his accumulated wealth, and he needed to be able to give it to his mother-- or at the very least, someone who could execute his will and give it all to her.

This man could track his movements-- hell, he had tracked his movements. Admittedly it hadn't been very far, and it had been with a two week head start-- but what was to say the man wouldn't continue when the boy made his way to the core? Laeonas might inadvertently lead the man to his mother and grandfather-- the only family he had, and two of the four people in the galaxy he'd ever actually trusted for an extended period of time.

He didn't know this one's intentions, but considering the vaguely linked references to a meaningless life that had the potential to end, which were immediately followed by references to his own life, they didn't sound good.

What was he to do? Draw the lightsaber from his jacket and end the man? Killing someone else would've only put an even more sour taste in his mouth-- but it wasn't just his safety at stake. There was no telling what the man was capable of-- he could track down his family, and do... something to them.

There was also the simpler option of choking the man with the force; nobody would know that it would be him, and they'd assume it was an allergic reaction to whatever particular spices were used in his drink. The boy didn't even need to kill him-- all he had to do was knock him unconscious, get on his ship, and escape as soon as possible. That didn't even require the force-- he could just beat the man until he stopped moving.

...that would probably land him in a cell, but it was better than possibly being hunted by a complete stranger. Eventually he would be let out, and from there he could find a place to lay low for a few months. He could sell his ship-- preferably unregistered-- and buy a new one as well. From there he could take an incredibly long and complicated route home until he finally arrived on Brentaal, with the beskar and the money he'd have from the ship's purchase, as well as the thousands he had in reserve.

He would succeed.

For now, however, Laeonas had to play nice. He wasn't about to unleash the powers of the force on this hunter yet. Instead, his look would shift to one that forced an unconvincingly friendly demeanor, and a grin that was so badly forced that under normal circumstances he might've burst out laughing had he seen himself in the mirror.

"Ai got a motto, Ai guess. Ai always got told ta fly high when Ai was little; but if we're all makin' our way through tha galaxy, all flyin' around, why tha'ell should we stop at flyin?'" The boy began, stopping to take another swig. "Ai never wanted ta fly; Ai wanted ta soar. Laike that pilot who escaped some burnin' planet laike ya mentioned." He continued, this time his smile faded a bit.

"Why're ya interested in weird stories about men flyin' off planets that got glassed a couple weeks ago?" Laeonas asked, maintaining the pretense of a friendly demeanor-- the half drunk apathy he'd possessed a minute before was replaced with a calm, but ever so slightly inviting tone; one that didn't indicate any intentions of closing the distance between the two of them and breaking the other human's nose.

He didn't know what the threat before him represented.

But he would find out.​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC

As more words than merely one finally kicked out from the gaunt man’s mouth another song kicked in through the cantina speakers. Maybe the last one had been on its tail end by the time Kayden had arrived. Maybe someone had just kissed the jukebox. The two men might have kissed just then, though one was not into men, while the other man looked like he was. A gigolo, perhaps.

Kayden mused as he listened to the speech with another sip, this one long and lazy. He licked his lips, tasted vinegar, the overhead music beating its drums like a heartbeat with a throb of two thrums. Fear could do that to a man, to anyone really, but the idiot beside the Sith appeared to be more inebriated than afraid. That can change.

“I’m always interested in a good story,” Kayden did not lie as he gazed up at the HV above the bar. It was some commercial about lotion for lekku. Besides the Twi’lek beside him there was one other Twi’lek that probably needed more than lotion for her lekku given her lack of lekku after a Sith’s saber had kissed the tentacles. What was her name again? Lidge? Kidge?

“I got a story. Though I’m still searching for the ending. Just need more material.” ‘This will never end ‘cause I want more...more give me more give me more…’ “Wanna hear it?” It was a rhetorical question. “I was following someone before I followed someone else. The second tail is...obvious...but the first led me to that planet of two weeks ago.” Another commercial. This one about discounts on starships. Does it come in pink?

“She’s a real piece of work. Not the most sociable sort. Kinda like you. ‘Cept where you haven’t hit me yet, well, she just might have. Ha! Heartless bitch. Good singing voice though.” ‘If I had a heart I could love you...if I had a voice I would sing…’

It might have only been the mystery dangling in the air as to how much this man in a green jacket knew about the other in order to keep that other listening. Kayden sighed out another swig, enjoying the drink as much as the moment. “Anyway, I tracked her to that one planet, Mataou, and right before it got glassed only one ship left. It wasn’t hers. It was yours.” He nodded over without eye contact. “And only one person came out of that ship. It wasn’t her. It was you.”

Kayden finally looked his drinking buddy in his scowling eyes with his own two smiling eyes. “I'm Kayden." Handshake? No? Fine. "Son of spacers. Father was a salvager. Mother was a scientist. Who the hell cares? Not Kayden Skyler. I, who bear their surname. Me, the better of two. You have met my sister, I believe: Kamelle Skyler. She is a Sith like me but not quite like me. There is no one like me. There is only me...."

The Sith slipped a hand into his jacket just then and if the boy flinched far enough to hit him then something else would come out of that jacket instead of the portrait.

Spoiler

“...And her... So you’d best tell me where she is, ’kay, buddy?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

This one was better at hiding his intentions; seconds after casually threatening him, he was back to taking long sips of his drink like nothing was going on. The music had shifted to something deep, almost spiritual. For whatever reason it suited the boy’s tastes; if he were taking someone to bed, he might’ve even put it on repeat while they went at it. But the pleasant music was juxtaposed against a man that even under circumstances as these, Laeo would’ve had zero interest in.

Sipping from his own glass, the boy waited for a response; and he almost spat out his drink at the answer.

He liked a good story? That was his response to the question? He wanted to insult the man; “What a response; next you’ll tell me ya drink water cus yer thirsty, and ya eat food when yer hungry…” He might’ve gone on further until the boy got bored. Laeonas was, however, intent on listening to the man who had been casually trying to threaten him. But his eyes instead chose to wander to the holo, which further irritated the boy. Was this just some madman who’d decided to stalk him?

When he finally chose to elaborate, the boy continued to listen, pressing his fist against his cheekbones while sipping down the liquor with his other hand. “Another drink.” He’d suddenly interrupt, glancing over at the ugnaut bartender, who was dealing with an Aqualish two seats down.

Followed someone, before someone else. A target changed, and the boy almost felt relief. This had been going on shortly, and the boy himself wasn’t the primary target. If Mataou had been where this one had changed from, that narrowed it down to those who’d gone to the vault.

That list was wide though; not only had Laeonas gone with a good dozen different people, but many had come before him. He couldn’t be entirely sure of who the man was going after. “Yet.” The boy thought, listening onward.

For whatever reason, the hair’s on the boy’s neck shot up, but he couldn’t tell why.

She. A piece of work. That narrowed it down to women. He’d think back, mind racing to the women he’d managed to see on the mission; the redhead, the Jedi, that Mandalorian. His heart sank at the realization that there was a chance that whoever it was this man was looking for, they might already be dead.

He continued listening; he’d escaped. She had gone down to the planet; her ship hadn’t been one of the ones to escape.

The hairs on his neck raised up again; and a flash appeared before his eyes. It was the Sith woman; hand pressed against the ray shield, her body shaking in place before tumbling when he dropped her.

The boy’s eyes widened. His mouth tried to sound out a single word, but no sound came.

A name. His. A story. His. A sister. His.

And a title. His. Hers.

For a moment, the boy felt as if he were choking. He… couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t the force blocking his airway though; his mind simply worked around the images that began flooding his mind once more. Her body, broken and burning on the floor. Her body, left behind to be blown to smithereens with the rest of the vault.

He turned when the man brought out the photo. It wasn’t her; the Sith he’d left wasn’t composed. Her mouth had been hanging open from the screams, her eyes were glazed over, not full of intent.

The words kept trying to form. It was as if he was silently reciting something, repetitive and unchanging.

“No way, no way, no way, no way, no way, no way…” He went on. The images didn’t stop. He sat almost motionless. But for the movement of his lips, there was no sign the boy was even alive.

This was so, so much worse than a hutt enforcer. ​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

Oooooh. Kayden’s smile never wavered even as his threats did. At this rate he may not need them after all. Jackpot. The guy beside him was positively struggling, like a fish plucked from the water by hands so uncaring. He was fortunate, then, that the Sith sitting beside him was a caring kind of guy.

Kayden watched those pupils poise, watched the eyelids rise, watched the sclera glisten, the optical nerve stretched taught, like a rope to a wrist and another to an ankle. Then pull, pull, pull. Was that what Mr. Gaunt was experiencing right now? The feeling of being stretched on a rack? Is he just that much of a sissy?

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kayden tilted his head, dancing his gaze between the man’s thousand-yard stare to his ordered drink just then set down on the bar by the tender. The Sith pushed it gently toward his associate. “Drink some of that, buddy. It’ll make you feel better. So I’m told.”

That mattered less than getting told what actually mattered. Okay, so, clearly Mr. Gaunt had recognized the photo and likely the rest of Kayden’s spiel. Yet who is the ghost? Him or her? Had Kamelle done such a number on this boy that her name and her image drained the blood from his being and replaced it with dread? Sounds like you, sis.

Or had she gone out with the fireworks back on Mataou? It was not likely for a gimp like this one brooding at a bar to have taken out Kamelle Skyler. Port authority had confirmed only one occupant of the ship that came in for quarantine. Had Kamelle yet been on it to part ways prior to Bespin? Was she out there still, haunting the boy's dreams and his face in the mirror?

“A good story, like I said.” Kayden leaned in another inch, leveling. “But I need to finish it. As much as I love a good story I hate an incomplete one. You can help me, right?” He searched for those blue eyes as though they were sapphires in a black sea. “You can tell me what became of my sweet sister?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Whatever confidence or self assurance the boy had possessed had vanished. The reality that the corpse who had haunted his vision for weeks on end not only had family, but that said family had tracked him down here, was more terrifying than anything he could've imagined. Nothing could compare to the terror he felt in this very moment. The nightmares he'd have when he was little, the fears of him or his mother dying; the challenges he'd faced in life, ranging from the Kath Hounds on Dantooine to the hordes on Mataou.

Laeonas Tannaras had faced things most men would buckle at. Not many could manage to stare down a hallway filled with AMS patients and walk away a full man. Not many could survive with nothing but basic supplies on a remote world for more than four years. Despite all his self doubt, the boastful confidence he'd felt before didn't come from nothing-- he was more than capable of dispatching most threats to his life.

But the fear he had right now transcended rational understanding. It wasn't just the man in front of him-- material threats weren't what was driving him right now. He could understand material threats-- weapons, poisons, people. Fundamentally, all a Sith was amounted to a person-- who could command the force. Still, Laeonas was more afraid of the idea of what Kayden represented, in the same way that he feared Kamelle.

The woman was dead; buried under a mountain of rubble, or completely disintegrated by the pounding turbolasers of the Hutt armada. There was no way that the woman could enact some retribution from beyond the grave; sure, there were legends of Sith haunting their places of burial past their ends, but Kamelle was no Dark Lord.

Yet the fear driving him came from the recesses of his psyche-- and a fundamental inability to process that the Sith he'd left on Mataou was dead. His attempts to justify why he had wronged her had almost been directed at her, like he was preparing for counterarguments or retaliation that could never arrive. Subconsciously, he had genuinely believed that what he had done on Mataou would have consequences. It was another coping mechanism-- for if even monsters like Kamelle were to be avenged by the universe, nobody would ever die without the bill coming due to those that had wronged them.

Under any other circumstances, his higher thoughts would've been correct, and his subconscious mind would've eventually succumbed to the reality of the universe. Actions were only paid back by people; even the force could only alter circumstances and manipulate the direction of events indirectly, rather than highjack free will in order to directly restore balance.

But right now, the boy could only remain horrified as all he'd read and believed shattered.

And than his mind shifted back to the flood of images, and the boy realized for the first time that they hadn't just been the subconscious reminding him of his own guilt.

His mind had been warning him about the man sitting right next to him.

---------

He'd remained silent for a few minutes following when he'd finished the drink. The shaking had steadied greatly, though mentally he was still reeling. He needed to provide an answer before the Sith decided he didn't want to wait anymore. This man was brothers to a woman who carried around the skin of a man she'd murdered-- and Laeonas didn't doubt that this one was just as willing to employ similarly cruel tactics against him.

How could he possibly hope to tell him that his sister had died? Further, how could he tell him that she died as a result of him leaving her there? Even if the Sith was incapable of genuinely caring about his sister's death, he was still taking interest in the boy. Finding out the fate of his sister-- either where she had escaped to, or if she had escaped at all, was undeniably important to the man. Denying him what he wanted wasn't in the boy's best interest... but he wasn't sure if telling the truth would win him any favors.

The boy's mind wandered back to when he and the Sith had confronted the the droidekas. The conflict almost seemed inevitable in retrospect-- but by telling the truth, Laeonas had avoided being caught in a lie.

Laeonas couldn't be sure of how the Sith would react. In truth, it was all up to him-- whether the boy was going to have to pull out the sister's weapon to fight the brother was, to an extent, his choice.

Letting out a sigh, the boy would shakily ask, "...about... why were there... what do ya know so far?"
​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC

Oh, this was becoming a tad too taxing. He had waited weeks then weeks again; first the days spent chasing her down, finally reaching her at Mataou, then days spent chasing the one and only ship that had left it. And it wasn’t even Kamelle who had left it! It was this whimpering whelp about as tall as himself but nowhere near as muscled. But I bet they’re no less red and ripe when the skin is peeled away…

Kayden had tried to play nice. Putting on a front, wearing the face, it usually did the trick. A chameleon was just another lizard if it could not change its colors, yet it was no lizard at all if it had no color of its own to return to. And sometimes any other color was as draining as blood from the face. Like the ghost beside me. You gaunt little prick.

He sat there mumbling something this and something that, his voice far more quivering than the woman’s as the latter flowed like honey from the speakers. ‘About? Why were there..?’ Kayden squinted as though trying to peer through a window smeared with goo. That incomplete sentence another wonderful revelation of how utterly useless you are?

“I know what I already said,” Kayden shrugged as nonchalantly as one could expect of a fellow patron. “I found my sister’s ship, the Wailing, planetside on Mataou. Just in time to spot a different ship leave the surface. From the same area.” That was important to note. Did Mr. Gaunt take note of the Sith’s eyes as they took note of his own?

“We were born in the same womb.” Kayden chuckled. “Not you and I, of course, but Kamelle and I. Twins. Squirted into our mother’s belly at the same moment. And here we are. Only . . . ” He looked away but it would be obvious that he wasn’t forming thoughts so much as rubbing them in like salt in a wound.

“ . . . It’s the darnedest thing, you know? Moments before Mataou went ka-boom!, well, I felt something in the Force… You know that term, yes?” Yes? No? More than most? “It was like...like having this jacket removed from my body in an instant, leaving me one garment short…” His Bloody Cherry did little to fill that void.

“So, I guess, Mr. Gaunt—can I call you Mr. Gaunt?—it’s more accurate to say that here I am, just me, and wherever my sister is...well…” He waved a hand between them both just then as if dismissing any more delays, but not really. If Mr. Gaunt was weak-willed enough then he would have no choice but to get to the karking point and spill the beans.

“You’re going to tell me. Right here. Right now.” Or I’m going to stab you to death and play around in your blood.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

...he had to be lying.

Could the Sith truly know nothing about the situation? How was it even possible? It was absurd on it's face; the transmission from Mataou had gone out across the galaxy-- it's just that the overwhelming majority of the population dismissed it as an outright lie.

Where had this Sith been to miss a galaxy-wide broadcast that had been reported on in both local and galactic holochannels?

Those words, at least temporarily, had broken the boy's fear. His mind was reeling; how could a Sith who'd hunted him for weeks on end been so completely ignorant of even the most broad galactic stories? No demon sent by the universe to seek revenge for a woman he'd left to die was sitting next to the boy-- it was just another man. A man, who could wield the force-- just like him.

...well, the man had said that there were no men like him, and Laeonas was inclined to believe that someone who associated with murders who turned the skins of their victims into grips on their weapons.

The boy felt the unease begin to set in once more. Despite the break from the fear, it began to creep it's way back into his mind. Laeonas would continue to listen to the Sith, who went on and started to explain how he was conceived... and the boy began to wonder how truly insane the man sitting next to him actually was.

Words poured out of the man's mouth, continuing further and further and further. Laeonas listened... and listened... and he almost stopped, until he felt it.

His mind felt as if it was slowing down. His mouth hung open slightly as static similar to what one might see on a broken holoviewer began to cloud his vision. Thoughts slowed, and began to stop all together. Than he heard a booming voice; the Sith's, no doubt.

"You're going to tell me. Right here. Right now."

...
...
...

The boy sat, blinking over and over. The static, the voice, it was overpowering...

...but none of it was real.

All he'd heard were words. A command, with added emphasis thanks to the power of the force. Others might have viewed it like a dream, and in a way, the experience was all to similar to the familiar mental prison the mind put itself into when sleep arrived.

But for whatever reason-- his will, or the power of the force-- Laeonas saw the prison as it was-- a suggestion, one that he was free to ignore.

...but the boy wasn't foolish enough to defy the man sitting next to him. He'd remembered the instructions he'd been given by the various bosses he'd served whenever it came time to extort someone for protection fees. Threats were to be rolled out first-- innuendo, suggestion, words.

But if they didn't comply, Laeonas was to start breaking their fingers. If they ran out of fingers to break, they'd move onto the toes-- than the arms, than the legs, than any other appendages the species he was dealing with had.

The Sith might've been using suggestion right now, but if he were denied, Laeonas could guess that his fate would be similar to those who didn't break after all their bones had.

"...no, it'll be worse." He thought.

That, and the return of his guilt, was what finally pushed him to try and speak.

He'd open his mouth... and he'd falter. Laeonas could mouth the first word, and whisper it out. "Sith..." The boy would sputter out. He'd try to concentrate, to focus-- but as he did so, whatever was stopping the return of his guilt in full finally broke.

The images, everything he'd experienced and seen-- it all flooded back in. He'd grip the rim of the table as his fingers began to tremble, even as all he could manage to see was Kamelle's body crushed under a mountain of rubble, finally starting to rot after weeks of being left unburied or preserved.

Laeonas, inexplicably, felt tears begin to well up. His eyes were puffed out-- and the boy found himself confused.

Why did he still care about this woman?

He couldn't help himself but wonder that, even as he recognized the immediate danger he was in. Laeonas was going to die-- murdered by the brother of the woman he'd left for dead on Mataou. He wouldn't be given the quick death of turbolaser fire and rubble though-- his would be slow...

...and he wouldn't be able to return home.

“Sith…woman, sister…” he’d stammer, his breathing heavy. His eyes were pink; watering at the thought of even uttering her name.

“…Kamelle…” Laeonas uttered, closing his eyes and looking away from the man.

"She... Ai... hunters, went after treasure. Promised if we saved some guy in a vault, he'd give all of it ta'us." Elaborating he began explaining the situation-- all the way from the beginning-- in spite of the trembling whimper that accompanied every word.

"Trapped; AMS, hordes outside, pinned us in. Attacked inside to..." He'd continue, before adding, "...yer sister saved mae laife."

Aquamarine eyes opened again, and he went on. "We... we had a few minutes b'fore tha hutts decided ta glass it all ta'ell." He explained-- this time, in a full, complete sentence.

"Others wanted ta leave-- wanted ta cut their losses, take ships, and go. We... yer sister, and Ai... we 'ad other plans." He'd almost sounded confident-- the same level of self assurance he'd had only minutes before had almost returned... until it broke.

"We 'ad ta bring down some... droids. 'Ad shields, difficult. She and A-" The boy stopped himself suddenly-- though this time, it wasn't from fear.

The man didn't know that he could use the force.

Blinking, the boy shook his head. "She used 'er powers ta rip off a door-- covered in beskar-- so we could get int'a'tha vault. Wasn't tha'only one; she and Ai 'ad ta find out a password." He continued, though Laeonas paused-- and his face soured a bit before going on; "Than some... slimey, gangster, no good pile of bantha shite started mockin' us."

He'd let out a long, long sigh. The seconds passed before he'd finally whisper out...

"...we--Ai-- wanted ta prove'im wrong."

The boy's lips pursed together, and Laeonas would wave at the ugnaut who'd been delivering drinks the whole evening. The shorter humanoid hadn't once chimed in on their conversation-- truth be told, Laeonas didn't even know if he'd been listening.

"We...we tried...rammin' tha beskar against tha vault door. It got... stuck. It wobbled though-- so Ai kept it in place." The boy tried describing, glancing down as his glass returned. Grabbing it, he'd take a long, drawn out sip.

"Ai--we-- noticed that there was a gap in tha door," He'd say, reverting to the plural. There was no singular blame for this part of the story; the Sith wanted to hear the truth-- and the truth was that what happened next was as much Kamelle's decision as it was Laeonas'.

"Ai kept tha beskar in place, and she climbed up. There was a shield-- energy-- that kept any of mae blaster shots from gettin' through. Tha Sith," He'd say, reverting back to the only identifier he'd given to the woman, "and Ai... thought slippin' 'er and through tha shield, and than activatin' tha lightsaber, would let us... cut through tha door."

It sounded so very, very stupid when he'd said it aloud. But it was out there-- ready to be taken in by any who listened... and right now, that was Kayden Skyler, and nobody else.

"...'er body... 'it tha floor when Ai let go." Laeonas whispered.

"...yer sister died on tha floor of that vault, Sith."
​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

Kamelle had been lost in the stars, searching for herself, ignoring the calls of her brother time and again, at one point not even recognizing him as her brother. She had ultimately heard the call from Mataou; a distress signal that she had answered. Her brother had heard it too, but did that matter?

Not as much. Kayden was just trying to get to the meat and potatoes of his sister’s fate. The details leading up to that was for Mr. Gaunt to handle. Let him spew it all out. His counterpart would sift through the spiel to determine what was trivial and what was to be put on trial.

Because, by recalling the events out loud himself, without Kayden sparing him the ordeal, well, Mr. Gaunt was relaying those results right then and there. His eyes welled up like the coward he was as emotions since hidden flooded to the surface. What came with them were the very answers his listener had been so patiently waiting on. Now he patiently listened.

What’s this? Kamelle saved the boy’s life? Kayden fought off a grin. He tried to look as concerning as a fellow patron could. Inside, his heart skipped a beat at the mention of beskar, he blinked at the speaker’s new drink while his own Bloody Cherry was still fresh, and heard...

...Everything.

Kayden Skyler did not flinch. Did not budge. Did naught but sit and stare. The boy beside him had just spilled the beans. He had divulged the fate of Kamelle Skyler. She was dead. Blown with the blasts. Gone with the wind. And I knew it… The moment I reached Mataou...saw it...heard it...felt it… I knew it…

So, Kamelle had given her life to a...ray shield? “She suffered from amnesia, you know?” Kayden pursed his lips before they met the glass of his drink, as if something stronger ought to be in it. “She was abducted. Held in a freighter to fend for her life. Memories stripped from her like skin beneath a blade… When she broke free, well, she was never quite the same again.” He shrugged. “Might help explain sticking her hand through a shield.”

More important than what had become of his sister, however, was what had become of her possessions. “Did she…” Kayden sighed as though this was the hardest question in the world to ask. “...Did she...at least die with dignity? With her lightsaber?” You kriffing toddler. I could skin you right here and now, starting with those emerald earrings.

Kayden’s internal dialogue aside, his countenance would convey nothing but sincerity. He was a Sith, had revealed as much, but he was talking to a kind of down on his luck drunk who may yet appreciate the awkward bond between two siblings enough to humor it with one more truth.

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

He took it... well, though that really shouldn't have surprised the boy. If he was as much a Sith as his sister, he'd be as devoid of empathy or remorse as one could be. But even through the calm tone, Laeonas could tell that the man wasn't completely unaffected. His remarks smelled of the slightest hint of mourning; talking about his sister's condition, trying to explain why she had made the mistake. It was easier to grapple with than the possibility that his sister had fumbled in such a way.

He sat, and waited for the final line to escape the Sith's lips. Another question, with another answer... that the boy wasn't entirely prepared to provide.

Laeonas hadn't inserted outright falsehoods into his recounting. Kamelle had, for all intents and purposes, died as he'd said-- on the floor of the vault, which had been directly related to her touching the ray shield. But there was more to that story-- the part where Laeonas had sensed the last bit of life in the woman and chosen to abandon her.

She hadn't died with lightsaber in hand-- not just because it had fallen mere moments after she'd touched the shield, but because the weapon in question was sitting in Laeonas' jacket. The tears had dissipated before they'd fallen, and his eyes were normal, apart from the grey bags beneath. Aquamarines searched the air, as if contemplating the list of possible actions that could come next.

"...when she touched tha shield, her entire arm got scorched; it looked laike it'd been on a cooker fer to long." Was all Laeonas could manage to explain, shaking his head as if to emphasize his point.

"Even if she'd 'ad tha lightsaber in 'er and, it wouldn't 'ave done 'er any good. She'd 'ave needed a whole new arm." He continued, the images in his head still present... but weaker.

Even in the context of providing all the information under the threat of death that would more than likely be agonizing and drawn out over an extended period of time, revealing what had happened almost felt liberating. It was one thing to suffer from trauma, but the negative effects could only compound when you remained isolated, and refused to open up. That had been exactly what Laeonas had done when he locked himself on his ship, alone and stewing in his own shame and self doubt.

He sat there for a moment, until a voice-- his, but not entirely, asked a simple question.

"...than why does this still 'urt?"

Laeonas blinked, glancing around the room. More words in his mind; they might have sounded like his own, but he hadn't brought them about. Yet, the question remained; he had revealed what had happened to the Sith by his side. He was no longer burdened with exclusive knowledge of Kamelle's fate... but the constant flow of images continued all the same. It might not have been as intense, and he might not have felt as terribly-- but the boy did not feel a wave of closure, and he did not feel free of guilt. Laeonas was still suffering, and so far the only cure had been to provide information to a man who, if he offended, would probably kill him.

He could end it here and now. Tell the whole of the truth; but Laeonas wasn't about to throw his life away, even if the alternative was to forever be haunted by memories of a woman he'd hated.

But he couldn't ever hope to live if all he felt was a sense that he was the one who deserved to be buried.

"...if there's somethin' else ya want ta know, ask. Ai'll answer."
​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC

As the music changed, like life into dust, Kayden listened intently as his counterpart divulged further into the fate of his sister.

Kamelle had certainly paid the price of touching whatever shield she had touched. Ray shield? Death shield? Whatever-shield? Sure, there were shields out there that allowed entry from the outside by slow-moving objects—the shields of droidekas, for example—but then there were shields that were as kind to inanimate objects as unkind to animate objects.

Whatever her reasoning, whatever her desperation, whatever her muddled mind and chaotic contemplation of memories and whatsuch notwithstanding, well, Kamelle had paid the penalty.

She had gambled and had lost. Now she’s dead. Got burned for the attempt. Scorched arm and all. Oh well. Kayden took a drink. The Bloody Cherry was enough. He did not need anything stronger, though he would maintain every attempt to make it appear that he did.

Yet, Mr. Gaunt had revealed that Kamelle was still alive even by the time she had lost her will to grasp her saber. She would have needed a mechno-arm, a prosthetic limb, but would have survived even by that point. That was valuable information and, perhaps, Mr. Gaunt did not realize just how expensive it really was.

The victim of his own survival, the life plagued with life after death, the morsel of a feast bitten but not devoured, that Mr. Gaunt, he looked around himself, eyes dancing like butterflies, searching for solace in a cantina that did not bother.

Kayden watched him, his own gaze shifting left and right and largely unnoticed as his victim of observation darted his own gaze every which way. Sissy. Pussy. Fool. Freak. It should have been you. Not her.

Then the million-credit question.

“Yeah...there is something I want to know…” Kayden gave away coolly, taking another sip. His drink was reaching its end but, unlike his counterpart, he was far from inebriated. “You, uh...well...you didn’t actually tell me what happened to my sister’s lightsaber...just kinda danced around it…”

Kayden looked left, looked right, as if nervous and hesitant to proceed any further, and whether this was the Force at work for either or both of them, well, that would not matter. Mr. Gaunt had some more explaining to do. Failing that, I’ve got some more flaying to do.

“Where is her lightsaber? My sister’s lightsaber? Kamelle Skyler's?” The Sith looked the other man right in the eye, as boldly as one would expect of a fellow patron and a Sith all in one. “Did you take it for safekeeping?” Kayden's gaze advanced like an army. "Or did it turn into dust?"

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

Listening to the Sith, the change in music had made their discussion had lightened the mood ever so slightly. The boy's mind had previously been overwhelmed with guilt and uncertainty, but opening up had allowed that burden to ease. Now, with a decidedly less unsettling atmosphere, he couldn't help but feel ever so slightly more confident of his chance at escaping unharmed.

Still, he wasn't prepared to act against the Sith-- not here at least. It would undoubtedly end in the survivor-- or survivors, if neither were lucky enough to succeed-- in being arrested by the authorities. The boy wasn't about to risk everything-- his life, his possessions, and the ability to return home-- in a fight that he couldn't confidently say he would win.

But now, as the focus became clear due to the Sith's answer, the boy found himself surprised once more. There was no broad shock this time however; no overwhelming fear that caused his hands to tremble. Now, there was only a lack of comprehension, an inability to understand why.

Why did the Sith care, of all things, about the location of his sister's weapon? Was it so important to his emotional closure that he get his hands on it, or at least know where it was? He'd taken the fact that she had died relatively well-- but now, Laeonas was supposed to grapple with him needing to know where her own possessions were?

"What tha kriff does it matter?" He'd wanted to answer, the harsh, grating tone of a man confident that his life couldn't be ended within seconds of speaking accompanying the words in his own mind. "Yer sister's a pile of cooked flesh and shattered bone, buried under a mountain of duracrete. 'Ow does knowin' where 'er kriffin' laser sword matter ta ya when ya didn't even shed a tear when ya learned she'd died?"

But the more the boy thought about it, his mind was drawn inward. When he'd contemplated the possibility of his own death on Mataou, all he'd been able to think about were his possessions and funds. On their own, they were nothing to a dead man; but Laeonas had wanted to be able to make sure his mother would have access to them if he'd died. All he'd done-- all the deaths he'd caused, all the credits stolen, windows shattered, bodies destroyed, drugs trafficked-- it was all in the name of securing a better life for himself, and for his family. There had only been one person beside himself who he cared to call that.

His mother had brought him into the world, probably with the hopes of becoming the mistress of the lord Tannaras, with a place by his side at the court of his palace. She couldn't have ever been naïve enough to believe she could be his wife, but Laeonas had been a ticket to possible fortune.

But that hadn't happened. She and him had been cast aside-- left to be forgotten as the young lord went off to continue drinking, whoring, and partying at the expense of all who were his "subjects." She had been left with an infant child, and if she'd been a lesser woman, she'd have left him in some alley to be picked up somewhere or to die.

But she hadn't. Through anything that challenged her, and in spite of everything he'd put her through, Laeonas' mother had stuck by him regardless. Beyond simply doing well for himself, Laeonas had wanted to at least give his mother the chance of the life she could've had if his father had shown even an ounce of the responsibility she had demonstrated.

Staring at his drink, the boy let out a sigh, turning to the Sith. The look of strength in the Sith's eyes weren't one Laeonas could imitate; his was offensive, attempting to bore into him like the drills on a mining droid. By contrast, his aquamarines were like shields; they gave no hint of the lingering uncertainty and guilt that, in spite of everything, hadn't gone away.

"Yer sister's saber isn't dust. Ai took it when Ai left Mataou, after Ai used it ta yew off tha beskar on tha door once she'd fallen." Laeonas stated, matter of fact and confident in tone. "Ai took it, and tha beskar, and ran. She'd still 'ad some life in 'er-- enough ta where if Ai'd gotten ta'tha 'ospitals on this station a couple 'ours later, she could've probably been treated. Got 'er arm yewn off, body dipped in bacta. Probably could've lived, and gone off ta go and skin some other unlucky shites in tha galaxy."

Internally, the boy was... terrified, to say the very least. He was speaking to the Sith not as a storm-- a threat that could end him in seconds-- but as a man to be argued against. Brave, but unwise-- at least, depending on what Kayden Skyler chose to do next.
​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

There was...speech...that parted from Mr. Gaunt’s mouth. There were words. There was dialogue. There were letters between letters. His tongue dripped with a voice, so focused and factual, like whatever he was saying was not forced or Forced and no more a lie than it was the truth.

Kayden watched that young man no less, gouging one eyeball after the other with his own one and the other, searching for a meal to devour like a man in a feast plucking the best dish from someone else so as to savor and suck.

Mr. Gaunt, oh, he spoke of Mataou, spoke of saber, of sister, of Sith, of beskar and yewn something this and that and running like the coward he was. A chickenshit kriffkark. Drown in your own blood. You banthashit.

Then the boy mentioned skinning some other unlucky ‘shites’ and Kayden once more could not help but chuckle. “Hahaha”, he enthused with his glass thudding the counter. Bartender came over with a cocked brow of ‘Next drink?’ and the Sith just shook his head to dismiss the Ugnaut. Kriff off.

“Well, I’ll be…” Kayden spoke as he watched the HV. The commercials had since ended to reveal a game of Galactic Fighting Championship, or GFC for short, and Monor Giccregor had just knocked someone out with a fist to the jaw.

“So...you got the bitch's saber, eh?” Kayden downed what was left in his drink. “I’m sure the skin on the hilt—a shared gimmick between two siblings—is not something too attractive for the likes of you.” He smiled, watching the fight.

“Still, you’re a formidable foe to have escaped alive, I’ll give you that… You walked away scott-free, with a lightsaber and some beskar… Still, I doubt you know how to handle that hilt. Doubt you know where to take that iron.”

Kayden just then looked toward Mr. Gaunt. “I can help you with both. What do you say?”

@Tom

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

The not-so-subtle threats had returned. The revelations that had preceded them, however, were not there. Laeonas doubted there was anything else that could so effectively break his resolve than finding out that the brother of the woman he'd obsessed over for weeks on end had come to question him. It was almost comforting-- if not for the fact that this Sith was very obviously not happy with the boy. This confidence also didn't change the fact that this Sith was a trained killer-- who apparently enjoyed the craft.

While the other man chose to refuse a new drink, Laeonas eagerly took the opportunity to for another glass. He was only slightly buzzed despite the amount of alcohol he'd taken in-- the fear had purged his body of the inebriating effects of the alcohol to a very large extent, and that was on top of his already high tolerance for drink.

He didn't pay attention to the holoviewer anymore, instead focusing on the Sith's reply, mulling them over in his head after hearing them. His glass returned, and the boy drank-- slowly this time, letting the alcohol roll down his throat as he'd contemplate his new options.

To be sure, Laeonas didn't exactly have much of a choice in the matter. He doubted telling the Sith to go and jump off the station was an option; and he obviously wasn't going to leave the boy alone until he was... satisfied? When would that be? When he had Laeonas' skin hanging on some wrack on his own ship?

Whatever it was, any future plans the boy had would be negatively impacted by the Sith's continued presence. He was a threat-- one that had to be dealt with either diplomatically, or by force.

"That'll be mae last drink fer t'night." He would state, drawing from his pockets a number of chips to pay for the drinks. "Ya'v got some fine shite; though Ai'v got no intentions of comin' back ta yer bar anytime soon." The boy stated, which prompted a simple nod from the ugnaut.

When his focus returned to the Sith, he'd quietly stand, one foot after the other pulling himself up from the stool.

"We weren't foes. Any other situation and she would've probably 'ave decided she wanted mae eyes fer earrin's, but that wasn't what we were there for." The boy stated, looking up slightly to maintain eye contact with the Sith. Without the vantage, the equally tall humans were placed at an uneven stance.

"Ai'll admit that Ai felt outclassed a number of times, and our relationship definitely wasn't equal-- at least in 'er eyes. Called me mule once, and that made me want ta strangle tha ****." He continued, frowning a bit as he spoke.

"But when it came down ta'tha end... Ai really didn't want her dead. It's one thing ta gun a man down or break 'is thumbs when 'e doesn't pay yer boss-- it's another ta leave some poor sod ta die." He would whisper, pursing his lips towards the end. Laeonas almost looked to mourn, and for a few seconds it looked as if the blubbering, unconsolable mess of a young man was about to return.

But no such creature made their appearance. Now, there was only a man-- a boy, really-- sad at the passing of what could've been.

"Ai wanted ta gloat. Look that self confident bitch in tha'eye, and laugh. Tell 'er Ai'd given up everythin'-- tha beskar, tha saber, tha treasure in that vault-- ta save her worthless 'ide. Ai wanted ta remind her that in tha end, it was me-- not 'er-- who'd gotten us out'f there." His explanation was... long, and it dripped with a mixture of emotions. Regret, anger-- even a hint of amusement.

Finally, he'd address the main point of where their conversation had gone. "Standin'ere would be pointless if what we're tryna do is figure out 'ow ta deal with what Ai brought with me. Ya'ought ta follow me ta mae ship-- Ai'll show ya tha beskar, and Ai'll show ya yer sister's saber."

He didn't need to bring the Sith to his ship to show him the saber. It was still tucked in the pocket of his jacket, neatly concealed. It would've been rather simple, and if Laeonas had simply wanted privacy, they certainly didn't need to go to the hunk of shit out on the landing pads.

But for what he had planned, there wasn't anywhere else in the galaxy where he'd want it to happen.
​

@Die Shize

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC [Recurring]

Last drink for the night. That had not gone unnoticed. It was as simple as suggestive, like a patron having had their share and ready to call it quits, surely influenced by the fellow patron drinking beside them, even if the latter was no longer drinking.

And then...no intentions of coming back… Why, Mr. Gaunt was an astute lad, was he not? Oh, quite right, he would not be coming back to this bar anytime soon...if ever…

As the boy with the earrings stood up, the man without any earrings remained seated, listening all the same. His contemporary spoke of Kamelle’s desire for his eyes as earrings, and truth be told Kamelle didn’t need to make you an enemy to make earrings out of your eyeballs, but whatever.

Again, a chuckle—from the Sith, rest assured. Mule. Kayden lingered. He fits the saddle. Too bad she didn’t know how to ride him. The Sith’s eyes danced between the viewscreen and the other man beside him who looked like he was on the verge of becoming a blubbering, unbridled mule on the verge of balling his eyes out.

Had Kayden not been distracted with the GFC match then he might just have betrayed his own subterfuge, or such as it remained. Instead, by the time his credit chips landed on the bar for the bartender, the Sith rose from his stool and turned toward Mr. Gaunt without a smile on his visage. Instead, his lips were lined rigid, his eyes, though unblinking, no longer dancing between either of his counterpart’s.

“You never told me your name.” Kayden waited for it or lack thereof. “I followed you this far… I’ll follow you far enough to my sister’s saber. All I know is...” Kayden thought of the overhead lyrics. He would have betrayed himself as a Sith if he did not proceed with this next part. Or would he?

“It was you...breathless and torn…” He smiled, aware of the drama. “I could feel my eyes turning into dust...and two strangers turning into dust…” Then, just in case his listener wasn’t catching on, Kayden pulled back enough jacket to reveal the side of his hip where a hilt should be. “...Turning into dust…”

Kayden nodded, relinquishing fate. "Lead the way, if you insist. All I want is what was hers. Then I'll leave you alone."

@Tom