A Day on Nar Shaddaa

[Malok]

​

Red Light Sector, Nar Shaddaa​

It was not particularly often that Abel Denko found himself in the literal cesspool of filth known as Nar Shaddaa's Red Light Sector. This was not due to his possession of some sort of shining morals or anything that would cause him to frown upon it, of course. No, this was due to the fact that his bank account was light and could barely afford the monthly withdrawals for bills. As such, the Enforcer did not have the means to indulge himself on a Twi'lek or two, nor a taste of spice. Instead, he had to make due with the occassional fling from an old flame here and there; and packs of cigarettes. This was the sort of thing that responsibilities resulted in, yet this day...Abel decided to venture to the Red Light Sector despite literally living from paycheck to paycheck.

The reason being was simple: he had a dream.

For years, the Enforcer had been "blessed" with glimpses of the future whilst asleep. He had predicted the murder of his parents, the flight of his brother, and even the Republic's slapping around of the Syndicate all whilst within the embrace of slumber. Therefore, when the most recent wave of "futuresque" dreams hit his psyche, Abel made absolutely certain to hearken to their details. In particular, he saw the Red Light Sector, for reasons beyond him, and a single man. The features of this individual were obscured, but Abel memorized enough of his psyche's depiction in order to pick him out of a crowd if necessary. In the dream, Abel was standing before a spice establishment in the district, leisurely smoking a cigarette whilst scanning the crowds.

And then, something "fun" would happen that would case Abel to step in and thereby change the direction of his life forevermore.

So, Abel waited. His form was leaned up against the very same spice establishment that he had seen in his dream, and his eyes diligently scanned the crowds. For several minutes, there was no "dream person" in sight...but then Abel caught sight of him. This caused him to stand up off of the wall and cautiously begin to make his way over...and the moment he did, he saw a glimmer of durasteel. There was a mook, plain and simple, garbed in a tattered cloak behind the tall man. With greed burning in his eyes, the sneak thief had selected a prey and was out for blood. One slit throat and a pilfering of pockets would get him his next meal, so he thoughts. However, Abel saw the blade, saw the approach, and had little time to react. He had no blaster on his person and shouting wouldn't alert the man in time...what could he do?

The Force.

The "duh" moment went off in his head and Abel set all his focus on the task. With but the thrusting forward of his palm, he sent a wall of telekinetic force hurtling into the man's would-be assailant, causing him to stumble over. In light of recent history, the people of Nar Shaddaa were beyond fearful of wielders of the Force. As such, the mook scampered away into the night, leaving Abel shaking his head. "You must not be from around here eh? Watch yourself next time."

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Pulled. This feeling like someone had attached a string to the middle of his chest for the exact purpose to tug upon it and draw him hither and yon. Over the years, even before his stasis he’d learned to heed the Force as the results usually ended up being for his benefit, not to mention others. He’d not expected to feel this urgent calling so soon, he expected to be able to languish in the world of the waking for a time without a need to move. Clearly the Force willed otherwise. It took weeks of travel from one hired conveyance to another, he’d yet acquired the service of a ship and pilot for his own devices. For that matter his home hadn’t even been lived in for three days before suddenly, off he went, pulled across the stars.

His only blessing was that whatever it was didn’t move around, the direction was constant. His arrival was nothing significant, but he gazed at the planet wide decaying slums of Nar Shaddaa with distaste. The stink of rot was so strong it actually made him ill, still, he was pulled. He willed the air around his head to purify, his lit ruby gaze taking on an inner glow with the evocation of Power. The urge to retch passed as the air became easier to breathe, he started out of the building making his way down to one of the lower levels. People moved out of his way as he walked, it was nothing he did, but the aura he affected, the predatory air of a man who was not to be trifled with.

He had no choice except to pay attention to his surroundings, what he was Called to was here on this disgustingly wretched planet. As he walked he was propositioned by far too many prostitutes, spice dealers competed and all the while the throngs of people walking to and fro moved around him like shabby and drab fish. He stood out, he was keenly aware of how much, he was wearing a black suit with a black undershirt, his shoes were also black. He was clean, his clothing of fine quality, a man of money, of higher means, an exotic figure who so far paid no attention to the painted whores or drug dealers. He looked to be totally ignoring everything while walking in a purposeful manner, his hands tucked into his pockets.

He was aware that he had someone tailing him, he felt his intense greed and desire for his death, but didn’t do anything about it. The crowd parted, just as he felt the man move in for what he mistook as an easy kill, his eyes blazed brighter as he delivered a precise punch with condensed energy to the stalker’s face. His nose, left eye and upper pallet caved in, right before he suddenly went flying back, the Push spun him around and made him stagger off, the body dropping to the ground with a thud. He felt his life flicker and die, he had no remorse for the corpse, his lit ruby gaze upon the one who’d made a move to ‘save’ him. A fledgling, from the taste of his aura he hadn’t yet to taint his soul enough to flavor his Aura with death.

He focused his will at the man’s mind, using telepathy, without needing for those around him to hear what he desired. The Force was quiet, the Pull gone, this moment was going to bring plenty of unrest to what he’d hoped would be an easy integration. Lead me to your place of residence, I have no desire for those around us to play audience any longer.

His mind-voice was colored with a variety of emotions, disgust, impatience and annoyance, though it wouldn’t be directed at him. He moved to stand within about four feet of the man, he noticed they were about the same height. They weighed about the same too, which was a bit of a relief for him as he disliked being towered over and didn’t like feeling like he was doing the towering.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

Apparently, the target of the would-be pickpocketing had a trick or two up his sleeve; for the moment the mook brandished his blade, a punch was launched. This strike carried with it tremendous force, enough so that the sound of shattering bone reached Abel's ear. He winced, watching the body skid across the pavement in response to the punch and his telekinetic shove. Then, he looked at the man. They were about the same in terms of height and build, but that was where the similarities concluded. While Abel was commonly dressed, garbed in a pair of denims with a jacket and collared, button-up shirt, the enigmatic individual was not. Instead, he wore some of the most finely-tailored threads that the Enforcer had seen; the sort that the upper echelon within the Cartel or Suns would wear.

Immediately, he thought this man to be of ill-repute. After all, what the kark would a sharply-dressed individual be doing in the Red Light Sector, aside from collecting credits from the ladies he set on the corner? Oh yes, Abel was judging him. Silently, of course, as he did not want to fall victim to an empowered punch like the deceased mook on the ground. Opening his mouth to speak again, the Enforcer suddenly found himself the subject of a mental "invasion". It had been years since anyone with a grasp of the Force brushed their mind against his own and it caused him to flinch noticeably. However, once the message had been deposited within his skull, Abel gave the man a slight look of disbelief...before motioning for him to follow.

Brisk, yet confident, footsteps bore the Enforcer down the adjacent alley and silence ruled him all the while. The walk lasted several minutes, until they just barely breached the Red Light Sector, and Abel continued to lead the way. He ascended the flight of stairs immediately outside a seedy apartment building and entered within, then continued climbing the resulting flights of stairs until they arrived on the fourth floor. At room "448" he produced a key, slid it into the slot, and admitted himself within, tarrying a moment for the sharply dressed man to enter. Closing the door behind him, Abel then locked his apartment door and turned, motioning to the couch situated in the living room. The space, as a whole, was small; yet had the accommodations of modern living. Furthermore, above all else, it was clean; as Abel was sort of a neat freak like that.

"Alright, let's start with the obvious." he began, stepping into the kitchen momentarily. He then opened the cabinet and produced a bottle of Corellian Whiskey and two glasses. Setting them upon the table, the Enforcer then went into the chill box, grabbed a few cubes of ice, and set them within the glasses before pouring them drinks. "Who the kark are you? I doubt you're a Jedi, murdering people in the street and all...and with the Empire gone, I hope to the Force you're not a stray Sith. So spill. You got a name?" That said, Abel took one of the glasses and raised it to his lips, indulging in a hearty sip before adding. "Oh, and that mental crap? Big no-no. Head's off-limits, got it?"

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Silence. He was pleased the man didn’t rattle of nonsense from nerves, nor was he easily intimidated, but his reaction to mental communication was a shade worrisome. Through his years of training telepathy was used commonly between Master and Apprentice, one could not lie mind to mind as the recipient would sense the sender’s intent. This one had training, but clearly not a good upbringing within the embrace of the Force. On the other hand that was a good thing too, he probably didn’t have many bad habits to re-train.

The apartment was much like the rest of the city, shabby, but once inside it was clear the man lived better than he had first feared. It was organized and meticulously maintained, he didn’t spot any of the usual signs of vermin either which meant they were probably ruthlessly deterred. He remained standing, taking in the room, his lit ruby gaze flicking to the man once he started talking, his gaze moved to the bottle of whiskey. At least he had refined tastes too, but judging from what little he’d seen in the cold storage and the fatigue lines on his face, he was barely keeping what little he’d had.

He’d seen those signs before, little details of a man better off than a pauper, but with poverty still shadowing his heels. When he displayed the doubts he had about him as a Jedi, he smirked, taking his glass and taking a sip, savoring its flavor. “You’ve not had much instruction in how to tap into the Force.”

It wasn’t a question. His voice was smooth, the words clear and precise, the inflections that marked him as nobility and not just a very rich man. “I am not Sith.”

To set the man at ease, he moved around the room making a circle, a thoughtful motion and not made like the prowling of a restless beast. “Do you own a ship?”

It would make the transition a lot easier and the route back to Naboo far more direct. He moved to stand across the man and studied him, his eyes noting everything from the few days worth of stubble, to the worn well used clothing. His eyes, there was a wariness to them that spoke of a man who’d lived within the sprawling decay for too long, seen too much and had stained his hands. “My name is Serian Corsair Loria.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, this man would make an interesting student and certainly not an easy one, the thought amused him. “We will be returning to my estate on Naboo, from there I will further your training as my Apprentice. Pack your things, find someone” He almost said ‘thing’ “To convey your possessions to where we need to go so that we can leave. I’ll pay for the labor and whatever other details that are needed to make the transition away swiftly.”

He then raised his glass as a gesture of gratitude “I thank you for this, its been some time since I’ve tasted something so familiar.”

It brought to memory of times where he wasn’t so discontent and it was bittersweet for him, he dismissed his declaration of never touching his mind again because he had no intentions of following it.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

For a moment, the Enforcer stood in silence, watching the man before him like a hawk. His mannerisms and tone of voice screamed nobility; just as his attire screamed that he possessed mountains upon mountains of credits. However, these facts alone paled in comparison to the revelation that was working itself into the forefront of Abel's mind. Apparently, the "not Sith" before him had made a decision...without so much as asking Abel's opinion. This decision began with the simple pointing out that he lacked education in the Force, which was obvious in response to his difficulty in event amassing a proper shove through the Force. From there, Abel found himself gaping...but then placed the rim of his glass between his lips. Indulging in a hearty sip, he then exhaled a satisfied breath before setting the glass back down upon the counter.

"My father, Radia, did the best he could. Y'know, when he wasn't piss drunk." he finally said, still digesting the sudden decision in his mind. The Enforcer was entirely conflicted over this turn of events, for part of him did not wish to relinquish his current lifestyle and freedom in order to blindly follow some mook off to Naboo. However, a larger part of him desired to go; for this was a fresh start. Off of the poodoo-hole that he had called home for two decades and down the path that his brother had taken. "Yeah, I've got a ship. The Black Widow; it's my baby." Abel then replied, then stepped over from behind the counter. He came to a halt before the man, looking him dead in the eye. There was no fear in the depths of his icy blues; but a fierceness that came with an upbringing on Nar Shaddaa.

Finally, Abel relented and said, "The name's Abel...and I'm serious about the mental thing." before stepping to the side. He hastily grabbed a handful of items, namely a fresh pack of cigarettes and a jacket before reaching for his holoprojector-disk. Tapping a number in, he then left a message for an old flame: a Twi'lek who was so sweet on him that it was ridiculous. "Hey sugar, grab the guys will ya? I need my place packed up and all the boxes sent to the port. Get a mover and I'll have the coordinates sent to ya. Finally skipping town, but I'll be home for the holidays. Promise." He gave a wink to the message and then ended the call before facing his new "Master". "Everything'll be taken care of. Just need coordinates to where my crap is to be sent."

He took a moment to slip a cigarette between his lips and fumbled in his pockets for a lighter. "Lead the way, Serian." Oh yeah, Abel wasn't going to be calling anyone Master. Not yet at least. Sure, he had decided to follow a man he didn't even know out of his apartment and into a life he had never lived; but the simple fact was that returning to this way of living was easy. There would always be bounties to hunt, nightclubs to guard, and Cartels to enforce. For a man like Abel, income was never a problem; so taking a long vacation or starting a new life...well, it wasn't as huge a leap for him as it was for others.

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

A-bull. An odd flavor for a name, but then a lot can change in eight hundred and fifteen years. Bulls were stubborn, this man shared that trait, he’d learn. He turned his back on him when he spoke to his machine, but turned back after he was done, just in time for him to see him light his cigarette. The flame flared from the lighter, engulfing the stick all the way to the filter, probably giving a scorch to the tip of the man’s nose.

Said flame also leapt to the pack of sticks as well making a very final end to the disgusting display. He then moved to stand near the door “The spaceport is a large place, plus you will know a better route than the one I took down here.”

The revelation that his father was his teacher, along with a drunkard, was appalling, but he showed not a hint. It wasn’t his place to judge his sire, nor judge the dead, at least his apprentice didn’t follow the same path, though there were too many other disgusting vices to pick up. Sadly he showed one in particular he couldn’t stand, he’d be damned if his home started to smell like an ashtray. He’d make sure the man nipped the habit. “I’d appreciate it if you’d rise above the gutter rot you’ve learned to speak and at least sound like you are civilized. I cannot change where you’ve been, but for you to be of aid to me I cannot have you displaying such an appallingly ill mannered tongue.”

As he walked behind him he smirked “As for the subject of your mind, mental communication is necessary. Moreover mind to mind there are no lies, no deceit, for any such manipulations and ill intent will be felt. I will not heed you in your silly fear, I have no interest in peering into your mind. I doubt there is anything in it that would interest me, but we will be speaking mind to mind and you will accept it whether you like it or not.”

Walking with Serian would be an interesting thing for Abel would see that people around them unconsciously made room. As if Abel was inside a bubble around the ruby eyed man that repelled people, but in such a way as that after they pass the path closes again. It would be an eerie thing for there was no malevolence coming from him, just that they moved.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"Holy poodoo! Are you kidding me?!" exclaimed the Enforcer as his cigarette spontaneously combusted. The length of his addiction was consumed by fire, which then leapt to the pack in his hand. He dropped both and began to furiously stamp them out upon hitting the floor, then looked up, seething. "Nah." Abel began, striding towards the man, "Nah. Nah. Karking Nah. There's no way that you're just going to walk up in my apartment, damn near catch my hand on fire, and demand that I don't swear? You kidding me?!" Then, the Enforcer remembered that Serian had suckerpunched a man to death and shut his mouth. "Y'know what? Nevermind. But if you're going to destroy my cigarettes, at least use your fortune to buy me some quittin' gum."

The Enforcer did not comment further on Serian's desire to have him clean up his language; as it was one of those things that would take time. Abel would try not to swear...at least within earshot of the man, but he was far from thrilled over the arrangement. "T'ch." was the only response that Serian received in regards to the comments about the necessity of mental communication, but for the time being Abel would "play" along. Striding forth, the Enforce poured himself a final shot and downed it in a single gulp, shook his head in response to the burn, and set the glass upon the countertop. He then motioned for his new Master to follow and said "Well, c'mon." With that said, Abel unlocked his apartment for the final time and stepped outside into the hall, then led the way outside once more.

Like previously, silence ruled Abel whilst he walked through the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Along the way, he slipped on his jacket and stuffed his hands within its pockets, shrugging ever so slightly in response to the chill of evening. His mind mulled over a great variety of things, but at last he decided to pose a question. "I've got a niece who comes over on the weekends sometime. I take it you'll be fine with her coming to see me, right? Or am I to go full Jedi and cut myself off from the entire Galaxy?" Leaving the snark hanging in the air, he continued along until they reached the Spaceport several moments later. He navigated them through the semi-crowded area to the location of his personal ship and turned around, arms wide open with pride.

"And here she is, the Black Widow. One of the finest products ever produced by Silk Holdings. This bad boy is sleek, fast, and looks damn sexy. Don't you agree?" he began, then remembered who he was talking to. "Nah, you probably don't. Anyways, c'mon in." Turning around once more, Abel opened the rear of the vessel with but a touch of his remote and stepped in on the entrance ramp. Settling himself into the pilot's chair, he then set about getting the systems online and finally got to the part where coordinates were to be put in. "Alright, go ahead and put the coordinates in. Then we'll be outta here."

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Serian was used to doing whatever he wanted and using whatever methods he had to get it. The man was fighting now because his whole world was ripped from underneath him and that he was subordinate to someone. He gave him a lot of slack, but when he had stalked towards him with anger he had to reign in the impulse to smack him down because he was challenging him. He was conditioned to such extremes simply because it was something that was necessary, but back in the past. How many insolent pups from his old Empire had thought to challenge him just because their masters disrespected him? Abel wasn’t part of that, he was just a man who was having trouble taking things in stride.

Still, for that split second he had almost died, but luckily he corrected himself. The whole walk to his ship he wasn’t really paying attention, he was worried, he almost snapped. He’d almost lost control, the Force led him to this man for a reason, perhaps this was one of them. An innocent man he could hesitate to harm because he was hair triggered to harm. It scared him, that he had become so, that he had almost done something truly monstrous. When he started talking to him his attention snapped back to him, he gazed at the ship momentarily confused, but then the man was walking away.

He put in the coordinates and sat in the Co-pilots seat, he recalled the man mention something about family. “I won’t cut you off from your family Abel… They are welcome in our home and under my protection.”


He looked out the window, but didn’t really see what was ahead, his gaze distant. He’d also catch a rare show of emotion, deep sadness and even longing. He’d never had a ‘family’ not even from his mother and father, Abel was lucky.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"Well, that's mighty decent of you." said the Enforcer, running through the take-off procedures, "You have my thanks." With that said, Abel closed the rear-door of the freighter and it's engines roared to life. Being thorough with his prized vessel, he made sure to run through all of the pre-flight checks. He adjusted the flaps, tested the landing gear, and checked all the gauges as well. Upon satisfying his desire to make absolutely certain that the Black Widow was ship-shape, Abel wrapped his hands about the steering column and pulled back, guiding the vessel into the air. It hovered lazily for a moment whilst it's engines hummed loudly, before lurching skyward at an impressive pace. Whilst silent, Abel reached out and began warming up the Hyperdrive; awaiting the Black Widow's escape from Nar Shaddaa'a gravity well before engaging. When the opportune moment arrived, he pulled back on the lever and was gently pushed back into his seat as the vessel dove into Hyperspace.

* * *

After hours upon hours of silence, the vessel finally emerged from the depths of Hyperspace and began going through the landing checks. The various scanners and transmissions of the Omega Protectorate screened the Black Widow before entry, and once given the green light, Abel steered the ship down to the coordinates below. Having never been on Naboo, he took a moment to look out of the view port in order to marvel at the natural beauty of the world. However, his attention was quickly placed back upon the task at hand as he guided the ship closer and closer to the landing point. Originally, he had anticipated a private star port or something along those lines, but what he was met with surpasses his expectations. In the midst of acres upon acres of land was a massive, walled estate. It was a manor of sorts with an enormous yard, complete with a square in the far back that was designated for landing. Abel gaped...You have your own landing pad? Dude. What do you do for a living?!" He inquired whilst piloting the Black Widow over the square. He landed the ship expertly and shut down its systems before rising from his seat, stretching. Then, he led the way off of the vessel and came to a halt upon taking his first step on Naboo.

This was the world of his mother's family, the Carde family that had tosses her away for her lowborn status. Sure, she was illegitimate. Sure, the family sent money every now and again and were to blame for his being able to afford the Black Widow. But to ostracize someone for years over their entry into the world was wrong; and the mere thought of it soured Abel's mood. "Well, we're here. Lead the way."

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Home. Naboo was where his home was, there was something to the world that called to him. He took in the view and suffered in silence, he wanted off the noisy machine and in the comfort of his residence. The moment they were landed and the doors opened he left the ship, breathing deeply. His eyes resumed their more natural ruby color as he could cease changing the air he breathed. His ears stopped ringing too which was a blessing. A woman walked down the road and when she arrived she bowed “Master Loria…” Her eyes went to Abel “I and my father will handle your things sir.”

Serian walked past her “His name is Abel Denko, he will be living here, take care of him as well.”

She nodded “Master Denko.”

She then moved to the ship, Serian never looked back. The inside of the house was pretty barren, there was some furniture in the study, in the kitchen and fortunately a few rooms were furnished too. Everything was impeccable, the kitchen had all the bells and whistles, it would be some place once it had things in it. The ruby eyed Master sat down in his study and laid his head back on the back of the chair, he rubbed the middle of his forehead trying to rid himself of the sudden pain.

Nar Shaddaa had been a mess and it had overly stimulated his mind, Senses and ordinary senses. He practically vibrated from it all, but now the cacophony of noise was gone, even the ordinary ship noises had only aggravated things. He didn’t know if his apprentice had followed, but he could always use his mind. I don’t need to work, but I do have an income, do not worry I am able to provide. If you need for anything tell me, it will be acquired and don’t hold out due to foolish pride either.

If he paid attention to the flavor of his mind-voice he’d feel an undercurrent of dull aching pain, of stress. Something that hadn’t been present the first time he had spoken to him mind to mind. Something had changed between then and now and he might catch that his new Master was trying to hide it.

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

A few moments following their departure from the Black Widow, the duo of Master and Apprentice were met by a woman. She was a humbly-dressed individual who regarded Serian with a respectful bow and addressed him as "Master Loria". Likewise, when introduced to him, she addressed him as "Master Denko". However, this did not sit right with Abel in the slightest, for he was certainly not above anyone else. Hell, if anything, he was beneath most individuals; as he grew up in a cesspool of filth known as Nar Shaddaa. With that thought in mind, the Enforcer said simply: "Please, call me Abel. Nice to meet you." before striding off after his mentor. The first impression imparted to him of the manor was, of course, the vastness of Serian's wealth...

But upon stepping within the estate, Abel gave a low whistle of surprise. The place was damn-near empty! Though he lagged behind his Master several steps, Abel kept up throughout the halls; taking a moment to poke his head into each and every door he passed along the way. The Kitchen was a literal masterpiece, stocked from top to bottom with all the foods and ingredients that Abel could dream of! However, the dining area adjacent to it was barely furnished. It had a simple table and chairs. That was it. Likewise, the entirety of the estate, save for a few rooms, looked as though they were not fully moved in to. Of course, Abel did not breathe a word of his surprise to his Master; and was absolutely certain to keep his mental-mouth shut when his voice erupted into his head.

Now, Abel was not the most observant individual in the world, but even he could tell when someone had a headache. The tone of voice, mental or not, had that rough edge to it that spoke of a throbbing menace to the head. As such, upon entering the study, the Enforcer closed the door behind him as quietly as possible and actually made an effort to respond mentally to his mentor. He did not know the specifics of how telepathy worked, so he simply thought what his response would be; and hoped that Sirian could hear him. "I'll be sure to remember that." he began, lowering himself into the seat adjacent to Serian's, "and...you sound like you need some aspirin. Want me to call up that woman and see if there are any lying around?"

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Serian’s eyes opened and he shook his head carefully “It will pass. I assume this ‘aspirin’ is medication?” He closed his eyes and sighed “I’m sensitive to my environment, exposure to an over abundance of stimuli ends up agitating them and causing a reaction headache. This affliction and I are old companions, I should be fine in about fifteen minutes.”

Pain was overriding his usual manner “To answer your question, I’ve not had this estate long, I had been here only three days before I was pulled to your homeworld. The Force willed, I but obeyed. I spent about a week in transit, hopping from one slow freight to another, I am quite grateful you had a ship of your own. Now… You probably have questions, ask them, we have plenty of time. Tiana, the maid, is a fair cook and as she knows how to work most things in the kitchen if you need any food, talk to her.”

It was safe to assume from what he said he didn’t know his way around the kitchen. In fact in the corner of the study were a few boxes, they were opened, but from the assembly manuals strewn in a heap like they’d been tossed there in frustration, he hadn’t known what to do with all the complicated parts. One set was for the computer, the other a sound system for playing music. It would probably seem rather odd, pretty much anyone could figure out how to set up tech or even use a kitchen.
@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"Yeah, aspirin helps headaches. Also knocks fevers down a peg. Pretty useful stuff." said the Enforcer, folding his hands slightly. Nodding along ever so slightly, Abel then wracked his brains for the most pressing of inquiries. He did not want to come off as a hyperactive youngling by asking every single question that formed in his mind; and there were multitudes of these. As such, he thought on it...hard...and came up with the first item to ask his new Master. Of course, Abel decided to dance about it ever so slightly before getting to the meat of the sandwich. "I can cook for myself." he said, leaning back in the chair, "The Kitchen looks pretty well stocked, so I might whip something up in a few. Maybe after your head stops throbbing I can show you the best burger you've ever tasted."

He paused, leading up to the question.

"Alright, so, I know next to nothing about the Force. Father instructed me in lightsaber combat when I was really young, and that's about it. You, on the other hand, obviously know a ton more. So, let me ask you this: what all can you do? And, furthermore...I get these weird ass dreams sometimes. Like, they tell me the future and such. I knew that my parents were going to die before it happened. I knew the Republic was going to curb stomp Nar Shaddaa before it happened. So, what I'm wondering is...Do you know how to control these visions?"

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

He opened his eyes when he mentioned he could cook, one eyebrow lifting at the mention of the ‘burger’ “I’ve never even heard of such a thing.” Nor was he joking, he was perfectly serious “I should probably eat something, its been…” He actually had to think about it “Its been about a day and a half.”

He had mentioned being pulled and that urgency had made him forgo meals, but then he wasn’t used to eating much to begin with. “Its called Foresight and no, I’ve not learned to control it, but it is possible to See at will. Because of your ill-training I would say that the reason why this curse-gift is so prevalent is because you had need of such a skill. It may fade off now as you will have a proper education, but I cannot say. Its however the Force wills and if It decided you are to have this affinity, it is out of my hands.”

He stood up walking out the door “Tea. Maybe in that labyrinth that is the kitchen a teapot will appear and I can make some. I know one was bought and I have some tea that will ease my headache faster.”

He opened cupboards till he’d found one, filled it with water and then stared at the stove, the buttons were many and it seemed like there was a button for everything. Sense, it made none, he looked over at his apprentice and gestured with a hand “Can you heat the water?”

He could read, but he didn’t think simmering, broiling or the other multitude of words would be wise to use on a teapot. He’d have to watch carefully to see how he accomplished it so he could do it himself and not feel so foolish. “For all my knowledge there are still far too many things I have yet to learn.”

@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"A day and a half?" the Enforcer asked in disbelief. "Dude, you've got a hunger headache!" Shaking his head with a slight chuckle, Abel stood up from his seat and began to follow his new Master throughout the halls. As they walked along, his head bobbed up and down every so often, denoting the fact that he was listening intently to the words Serian was uttering. The subject of "Foresight" was interesting to Abel, to say the least, and it prompted a second inquiry just as they entered the kitchen. He stood by whilst his Master fumbled through the cabinets, almost as if he was completely lost, until he produced a tea kettle. Then, the man placed it on the stove...and looked beyond lost. Abel had to force down a bemused grin as he strode over and set the stove with but a single push of a button and said. "It's all good man. For boiling water, just turn this dial to 'Hi' and keep an eye on it."

With that said, he stepped over to the chill box and opened its doors, setting himself to the task of seeking out the ingredients for a proper burger. He found the ground beef, cheeses, and other fixings just fine and laid them out on the counter before browsing the cabinets himself. Whilst he did so, he posed his second question. "Is it possible to use Foresight in the middle of a brawl? Like, can I see an enemy's moves before he makes them?"

@[member="Serian Loria"].

 

[Serian Loria]

Serian took a seat on one of the bar stools and nodded “Yes, we can practice in a spar when we get there, but I’m warning you now… I’m a passing physical fighter at best, my skills lay with my mind and with the force. So you will have to perfect your hack and slashing without more than the instruction I can provide. In my time we called it Battle Sight, but force knows what its been named since. As for my headache, its not due to hunger, I’m used to eating infrequently and very simply. Food has always been an after-thought, something a servant provided in the background while I worked.”

He never mentioned eating with company or if he enjoyed what he ate, he was a man that had gotten used to being alone and had made the best of it. Obviously he’d need to be looked after just so he didn’t waste away for he didn’t seem to think much of regular meals.
@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"In your time? You sound like my grandfather; just how old are you? And fret not about my saber skills, I know a place where I can brush up on them just fine." Abel could not help but inquiring as he fished out a suitable pan and set it upon the stove. He then melted a small slice of butter upon its cast-iron surface and made certain that it coated the bottom enough as to prevent sticking. Then, having washed his hands and rolled up his sleeves, he set about forming the burgers; stopping at four patties as he was uncertain of how large Serian's appetite was. He seasoned them with a modest blend of spices, just enough to give it that kick he so desperately craved, then set them in the pan. Pressing down upon the top of each pattie gently with a spatula, Abel then turned his attention to Serian as the delicious scent began to fill the room. "Call your two servants down, will ya? I'm making burgers for them too. If they're going to be serving me, the least I can do is pay 'em with lunch."

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

Serian blinked, he hadn’t meant to let that slip, but there was no salvaging it without it sounding like an obvious lie. He sighed “I am twenty five, but I came from an age eight hundred and fifteen years in the past. I spent those centuries in stasis, so I am not an oldster.”

He’d catch the hint of a sniff in regards to his comment about age, he didn’t feel old. “As for the servants, I doubt that they will accept such an offer Abel. They are not familiar with us and its better to let us all adjust, but later I will put the offer to paper and let things play out as they will.”

The grilling meat made his mouth water and he eyed the pan with interest, the teapot made cry that the water was hot enough and he pulled out a wooden box. From the box he took out four tea bags, the tea was supposed to be drank strong, but he couldn’t handle more than four bags. The smell of lavender and something spicy soon perfumed the air along with the scent of cooking meat. He poured himself a cup, the tea a purple-ish red and sipped it grimacing slightly, it was very bitter, but best ingested without additives.


@[member="Abel Denko"]

 

[Malok]

"What the ka-" began the Enforcer in disbelief. He looked away from his culinary masterpieces within the pan and gaped momentarily, but did not have the time to spend on remaining shocked. Otherwise, his burgers would burn and therefore be ruined. "So like...you knew Palpatine and all that?" he inquired, returning his attention to the pan. Abel did not comment on the status of the servants and their supposed unwillingness to eat his food. The simplest fix was to simply make the burgers double-pattied, which is exactly what he did. Abel then took a moment to toast a duo of buns and fry up a few slices of bacon for flavor whilst depositing the patties on a paper towel as to draw out the oils. "Lunch is almost ready boss. Hope you're ready for your life to change."

@[member="Serian Loria"]

 

[Serian Loria]

He was taking a drink of tea when he made the remark about Palpatine, he coughed, the fit lasting a few moments till it stopped. He looked at Abel incredulous “Palpatine was before my time thank you.” He snorted “I believe he followed Darth Bane’s philosophy of the rule of two, which was certainly not something that I and our order did, we followed a different philosophy. Though most of the tenants passed down through the ages were followed." He smirked “I’m a former Sith, yes. As for Palpatine, he was a fool, had he taken care of loose ends and made sure that Padme Amidala's children had truly died with her, Skywalker would never have been around to spark defiance in Darth Vader and thus be the catalyst for his end. From there the Jedi might very well have faded from the galaxy.”

He finished his cup of tea and put the teapot in the cold storage, his headache was nothing more than a disgruntled murmur. He pulled out some chilled orange juice and filled his cup, sitting back down with a sigh “This age of yours holds far more factions than mine, though the known galaxy was also smaller. I cannot recall the last time I’d had an apprentice.” Then he did and he closed his eyes, the memory of finding her mangled corpse returned souring his stomach, she had been one he’d been close to. It hurt, a lot, still. He opened his eyes and emptied his glass with a gulp “She was killed… One of the other Lords had ended her life to hurt me. I avenged her and staked what was left of his corpse on a wall within the central chambers for all to gaze upon. I made sure to leave his head and face intact.”

His screams echoed in his ears once again, but he took no pride in the memory, Telara had been both a lover and a friend, a rare combination. He’d closed himself off from others after that, seeking a way to leave them all to dust, her end had been the last tie to the Empire strong enough to hold him there. “A curious thing happened to me during my long sleep, memories of my self I can recall, but everything outside myself is hit and miss. I gain those memories back, but its usually triggered by something, like the case now. I will be spending the next few mornings going through my training, I cannot say for sure if I’ve forgotten anything.”

He eyed the food, the scent from it all was making him impatient, he didn’t know how it would taste, but his stomach cared not as its only want was to be filled. “Do you have other family, other than the niece of yours?”



@[member="Abel Denko"]