Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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A Happy Coincidence?

Coruscant Undercity: Level 2
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One week ago
In the second level of the Coruscant undercity, a lonely dark-clad figure sat in the glum corner of a swanky bar. The Hardened Gamorrean, as it was called, was a local hotspot for the low-paid working class, serving watery rum and greasy low-quality food. The air smelled of cheap deathsticks and unrefined spice, as well as sweat and other unsavory smells.​
So why was a prestigious SIth Lord there? As privileged as life as a Sith was, sometimes someone as solitary as Ajihad needed a break from it all. He spent most of his days hunting down enemies of the Sith, and was widely regarded as one of the most feared assassins in the galaxy. However, that life was a lonely one, causing the need for the occasional cheap and dimly-lit bar for some form of comfort.​
As he rolled the half-empty glass of watered-down Coruscanti rum, he caught a commotion out of the corner of his eye. A large Weequay was engaging in a fight with a smaller man, but that's not what caught his eye. Fights broke out here on a daily basis, usually involving the Weequay perpetrator. What got the assassin's attention was the other man whom he had never seen before. In a small sequence of lightning-fast moves, the alien was laying dead on the floor with a broken neck. Ajihad's eyebrows knit together. He had never seen a martial artist move so quickly anywhere outside of House Rist on Alderaan, and this man was no Rist assassin. The mysterious man bolted out the door before anyone could foolishly attempt to apprehend him, running off into the infinite city.​
Present Day
Ajihad had been following the police investigation on this man for several days from the shadows, picking up on the bits and pieces of information they had found so far. They were close to making a breakthrough on the man's location, when a young police officer had found a vital piece of information as to where he dwelled. He was en route to the local station, when a wraithlike figure emerged emerged from the shadows. He held up a hand, forcing the officer to halt in his tracks. "Who do you think you are, interfering on official police..." Before he finished his sentence, a crushing pressure would be applied to his throat. The funny thing was, nobody was touching him. The assassin used the force to search his thoughts, instincts telling him this man knew where the man was. The officer kicked and flailed, trying to cry out. After a couple minutes of searching, Ajihad had what he was looking for. He twisted his hand slightly, and the man's neck made a slight popping sound. The officer fell to the ground unmoving, and Ajihad set off for where he believed this man to be.​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
Dark and thick with the odors of corporate excess, Coruscant was more a hive than any place in the galaxy for criminal activity and reckless violence. It was a simple matter to slip through the careful clutches of law enforcement when they had their hands so overly full already. Someone with Alkor's own skillset needed only to abate a clear and present threat, and witnesses in the undercity would be less than willing to inform on him. As he watched the fear filled eyes of his unfortunate oppressor leak salty tears, Alkor was careful to keep his own face obscured.

The shadows danced around him as he hurried back through the long, labyrinthine series of alleyways toward the slum where he made home. The whine of sirens overhead pricked at his consciousness with trace amounts of urgency, but if they saw him, they did not give chase.

His doorway creaked open and the familiar smile of the young landlady greeted him warmly. "Out drinking again, sir?" she asked with all the familiarity of a friend. "As long as you can pay your rent on time, I'm not judging you. Don't worry. Times are hard."

Alkor shook his head. "Not this time," he answered. "But thank you for opening your home to me."

"It's nice to have a man around," she chuckled. "It helps to keep away unwanted advances. Some of the local ladies whisper about you being... erm..." She made a gesture with her hands that Alkor dismissed as meaningless, but he managed to shrug anyway. "Well, I mean, thank you. I don't have to deal with the nastier folks in the neighborhood because you're here, now."

His lips drew a flat line as recognition dawned. She might not have been fully aware of why the neighborhood men gave her a wide berth, but Alkor knew immediately. Someone had seen him. It wouldn't be long before organized crime on Coruscant gave his landlady more trouble than any of the local scum. "Miss Alisha, you shouldn't thank me," he waved a hand idly. "But if someone does come calling, I'll answer the door from here on."

She tilted her head. "Al...alright, I suppose," she blushed, and Alkor instantly realized that she assumed he was offering her protection. She was a pretty girl, dirty blonde with bright brown eyes and a smile that shined despite the filthy conditions they were living in. "Do you want some dinner?" she asked. "I just started to heat some caf and I'm making a stew tonight."

"I've eaten," he stated. Alkor knew better than to get too close to someone like this. She looked crushed as he disappeared into the back, shedding his cloak along the way. "But save me something for later," he added, and her smile returned.

"I will!" she called after him.

"Here's hoping I'm just being paranoid," Alkor muttered as the shower pattered down on him.

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
(I'll rp as if I followed you home from the bar, should be less complicated)​
From across the street, the master assassin watched the entire exchange between a pretty young landlady and someone he immediately recognized to be the man from the bar fight. Unfortunately, he was not able to use the force to eavesdrop on their conversation, as the background noise of Coruscant was too great to overcome.​
They spoke for several moments, before the man followed inside and the woman followed suit. His cybernetic eye switched to x-ray vision, following their movement into the small grimy home. The man took off his coat, heading towards something that resembled a small and tight bathroom. Ajihad's suspicions were confirmed as he turned a knob on the wall, and what seemed to be semi-clean water spewed outwards.​
He turned his attention to the woman, who had headed to the kitchen where a small pot of stew was boiling on the stove. The man took a moment to think, before deciding on a plan of action. He intended to find out who this man was and where he came from. He fought like someone who was more than just a normal undercity worker. He stood up from his seat in a small motel room on the second floor of a bar, jumping through the open window into the street below.​
He walked over to the ghetto building, looking around for witnesses. After confirming nobody was around, he leapt onto the wall like a spider and began climbing at unnatural speeds. Within seconds he had reached the bedroom window, using the force to unlock the cheap mechanism. He knew had had to move quickly, before the man got out of the shower. A glove hand silently slid the window open, and he slipped inside without making a noise.​
He made his way into the kitchen, he boots unnaturally making no noise against the cracked tile floor. The man was facing away from him, happily humming as she stirred the stew. He crept up behind her, placing a gloved hand over her face. She attempted to cry out, but to no avail. She thrashed about, but he held her away from anything that could make any noise. After a moment, she stopped thrashing. He pulled his hand away from her face, admiring his handiwork. The skin of her eyelids and mouth had sealed shut, making her look like some freak experiment. She was still breathing, but unable to make any sort of noise.​
He dragged her over to a chair fixed in the floor, and walked over to one of the nearby crumbling walls. He reached inside, pulling out a single long wire. He heard the refrigeration unit shut off in the background. He used the wire to tie her to the chair, then proceeded to sit down nearby and wait for the mysterious man to get out of the shower.​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
Something shifted.

It was subtle, silent, and subversive. The Darkness rarely left any kind of footprint in its wake, but to someone acutely familiar with its workings it could be tasted. Alkor did not know what it was, where it came from, or what it meant, but he was instantly on high alert. His eyes remained half open, his expression laconic. On the outside, the Jen'jidai showed a facade of serenity as his fleeting, flesh form reveled in the comfort of a steamy shower.

The water ceased to flow as it normally would have, and the Dark Jedi gave no indication that anything at all was amiss. He wrapped his lower body in a towel and held it with one hand, scooping his lightsaber from his robes that still lay disheveled on the floor and hiding it just beneath the fabric that hid his unmentionables. His scarred body dripped water and blood as he stepped into the main corridor, immediately skimming for any sign of danger. While the Force would warm him of impending danger, a smart man knew that his own senses were just as important to utilize.

Alkor in particular had training that made his body as much a weapon as any blade.

He made no attempt to mask his approach as he strode toward the kitchen, his steps creaking along the ruined floor. "Alisha?" he queried as he turned the corner, then stopped. There was no surprise in his expression as he admired the grotesque handiwork of the unwelcome guest. "I assume you plan to fix that?"

He felt the panic explode in Alisha as she heard his voice and registered his presence. There was a spark of hope, mixed with dread. "What do you want?"

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Unbeknownst to the other man, Ajihad was watching him through the walls with his cybernetic eye's x-ray vision the whole time. He saw as he hid a lightsaber beneath his towel. Was he just a cautious man, or did he feel Ajihad's presence in the building? The assassin had forgotten to hide his force presence, so the latter was always a possibility. If he did detect Ajihad, his suspicions of the man being more than he seemed was confirmed even more so.​
As he stepped into the room, his eyes gave the landlady a quick look. The lack of horror or even surprise on his face gave him away. This was indeed no ordinary run-of-the-mill worker. This was a man who had seen the horrors of the galaxy, someone who was used to such atrocities.​
As he pondered the man's words, Ajihad's golden eyes looked him over from head to toe. He was heavily scarred, his body looking like the battlefields of Wayland more than anything. He was still wet from the shower, droplets of water mixed with blood which he presumed were from recent wounds. This man was a fighter.​
After a minute, his eyes eventually moved to meet that of the mystery man. "That, my friend, depends entirely on you. What is your name, and from where do you hail?" His accent was unplaceable, a deep rich baritone that almost sounded like it came forth from the mouth of a god. The woman froze as she heard it, a shiver running down her spine. It was time to see if when blow came to blow this man cared enough for her to offer up information. If not, then her innocent blood would be on his hands.​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
He could easily have let the woman die and occupied the house in absentia.

The thought occurred to him, but Alkor did not care for grand displays of dispassion for their own sake. The monstrous nature of Sith and their tendency to place no value on the lives of those they deemed lesser categorized this creature and his dulcet tones instantly. How adorable.

It occurred to him that he'd never given Alisha his real name, or told her anything of value about himself. She was eager enough for the stimulus in credits that she leased to him with a shady set of credentials and essentially nothing but good faith. True to his word, however, Alkor was forthcoming with payments and timely about it as well. Honor was one of the facets a Warrior kept to, and more than any other force tradition, the path of the Jen'jidai was one of a Warrior.

It was that more than anything that saved her life.

"My name is Alkor Centaris." He was forthcoming enough with the name, which would tie him to several heinous criminal acts in the Core, but he hardly cared, "and I'm sure you've heard your fair share of Corellian accents. Now let the girl go, you're obviously not interested in her life."

Alkor dropped the towel and made no attempt to hide his lightsaber from view. Of course, he didn't bother to hide much else either. "So, are you friends with the poor sods from the bar, or is this a personal visit?"

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Ajihad nodded as Alkor gave his real name. His cybernetic eye immediately began searching the holonet for him, identifying him as a felon that the OS had a pretty nice bounty on. Not that the assassin cared, he had plenty enough credits as it was. Other things interested him about this man than material stability.​
The man dropped his towel, but Ajihad's gaze never left that of Alkor's eyes. The asexual assassin wasn't distracted by much, much less the man's lumber from down under. His eyes turned to the landlady, before speaking again. "Indeed, I am not. But I'm sure you are to some degree, so let us finish our parlay. You are correct, this visit is personal. I saw you assault the man in the bar earlier. No doubt he was a deserving victim, but how you you went about it is what intrigues me. You used a martial art of some kind I had never seen before. What was it?" He stood up from his seat, hands clasped behind his back and began pacing about the room. Just how far would this man go to protect the landlady before he wouldn't tell any more?​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
"I'll tell you anything you want to know," Alkor said with a shrug. "I've got no reason to hide it. You're a Sith, not Coruscant security."

Alkor collected his robes from the floor and donned them without bothering with bandages or his pants. "Provided, of course, you let her go. Which is more precious to you, knowledge or your bloodlust? If she dies, I will tell you nothing. She'll be dead, I'll be looking for new living arrangements, but you won't have the information you're looking for. I'm sure you'll find my terms agreeable."

He hardly sought to bargain for the woman's life, but letting the Sith know just how little of an attachment he had with her ought to level the playing field some. He could hear the poor girl's heartbeat in his ears, reverberating through the Force with absolute horror. With a sigh, Alkor stretched out and stroked her consciousness with a wave of cold emotion, something familiar, something that would soothe her with its intoxicating aura. Her mind sank into a catatonic state, devoid of pain and while she would still hear and breathe normally, she was now totally relaxed.

"Sometimes all you really have to do is ask," he informed the man with an expression of annoyance.

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Ajihad nodded, seemingly in agreement with what Alkor had to say. He was going to be cooperative, good. He wasn't going to deal with this man like he did that damned insufferable hermit...

"Of course, she will be returned to normal and let to do as she pleases if you answer my questions. And I'm sure you'll understand the lifestyle I live generally has me kill first, and ask questions later. But enough of this idle chat." The assassin stood up, walking over to the girl. He again placed a gloved hand over her face, causing her to squirm with discomfort. Several moments later, he withdrew his hand revealing her features had returned to normal.

He took his seat once again, one leg set on top of the other. He moved his hand in a lazy gesture for the man to continue. "So then, I assume what I witnessed was done sort of martial art. What was it?" His golden eyes seemed to pierce their way into the man's soul, though the Sith Lord doubted it would cause a man like him much discomfort.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]
 
"You've heard of the Followers of Palawa?" Alkor asked idly as the woman twitched uncomfortably in her sleep, but seemed to relax when the Sith removed his hand. Alkor saw her features had returned to normalcy, and he returned his gaze to the man who had confessed to a profession that dealt readily in death. So, they had that much in common. The stark difference between them lay in just how much of the darkness had corrupted them. The taint would always be present within Alkor, who allowed it in without any reservations but did not give himself over to it; whereas with the Sith, the presence of golden hued pupils belied an open embrace of the abyss.

With a wave of his hand, Alisha stirred, then her eyes opened. "I dreamed... that... uhm, who is this?" She looked at the unknown man with an uncertain gaze, but Alkor placed a finger to his lips.

"Focus on the stew, Alisha," he bid her. "Make sure there is enough for one more, please?" He smiled at her disarmingly, and she returned the expression brightly. Apparently, his assurance was enough to abate any worry the girl had. Alkor returned his eyes to Ajihad and his lips returned to their natural, apathetic state. "They are warrior monks, not generally force sensitive. During ancient times, they were forced to take an opposing role against the Jedi, so they devised a series of combative arts that could neutralize the advantages of a lightsaber. At the peak of training, monks even learned to close their minds to the influence of the force itself, though they were unable to ever truly simulate sensitivity."

He lifted a hand for the Sith to view, and turned it over lazily. "They called the art Teras Kasi," he explained. "Iron Hands."

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Ajihad listened intently to the man's story, not even refusing the indirect offer of stew the man had granted. The Followers of Palawa... he believed he had heard of them, though their story was not one all too familiar with him. Forced to take up arms against the Jedi, anti-lightsaber martial arts, it was all very interesting to the assassin.

He stood up after the man had finished speaking, walking over the small grimy window that sat on the wall of the living room. His eyes wandered the streets below, taking it all in. The malnourished street urchins, the sleezy vendors, the shameless prostitutes. A man with such a skill could be living practically anywhere, doing practically whatever he wanted. Many factions would pay small fortunes to enlist him to their aides. Why choose here?

Just as he was turning back from the window, the Sith saw a small event unfold not a block down the street from the ghetto house. A police vehicle had pulled onto the street, several uniformed men stepping out. They whipped out ID scanners with all the flourish they would a weapon, quickly and efficently scanning the faces of everyone in the area they could get their hands on.

Paying them no heed, Ajihad turned to fully face the man. Now was time for the golden question. "Can you teach me?"

[member="Alkor Centaris"]
 
It was at that moment Alisha realized what she had seen only a moment before.

Her face turned bright and rosy red as she blinked and snapped her face back toward Alkor, her full lips ajar in abject surprise. "Oh," she whispered as her eyes trailed downward and lingered longer than she would later admit to. "Oh dear. I..." She pointed with the ladle and stammered as she jabbed it several times in his direction. "P...pants!" she managed to cry out. "Put on some pants, Alkor!"

She stopped, then her eyes moved up to his. "You never told me that was your name," she recognized in confusion. "How did I know that?"

"Sometimes people hear in their sleep," he shrugged. "How is the stew coming?"

"Almost ready, she stated awkwardly as she turned back to the stove. "But you're not getting a bite til you get yourself decent," she chided.

"I doubt tall, dark and dangerous wants to tussle with a half naked bloke anyhow," Alkor replied in kind. "So I'll oblige you, ma'am." He turned his gaze toward the Sith after saying this and grabbed his slacks off the floor. As he slipped into them, he assessed the frame of the Assassin and nodded slowly. "Yes, I can teach you," he told Ajihad, "but it's not like the Echani arts, or Stava. It does not draw from innate talent, or what you may already have learned. To master the art, you must begin by forgetting everything you have ever learned about combat. You have to be willing to understand completely from a perspective that is foreign to you."

He slid the pant legs up and zipped them shut. "Dinner's ready," Alisha called out. "You two can talk over food, I hope. It's best while it's still hot."

She smiled at both men in turn, and Alkor nodded. "Alright," he replied, "we can discuss this more while we eat."

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Ajihad nodded thoughtfully at the statement. He was a well-trained martial artist and fighter in general, so forgetting everything he had ever learned just simply wasn't going to happen. He would just have to put that information in storage for a bit, and try not to let his instincts take total control as he learned.​
As Alkor went off to change, Ajihad turned to the landlady. "Excuse me for but a moment, ma'am."
He would turn towards the door as he sensed ten armed policemen approach it, flicking his wrist forward. A hidden blade would quietly emerge from its sheath, poking outward from the bottom of his wrist. He swung the door open before the first knock landed, and the landlady could consider herself lucky that a wall blocked her view from the kitchen to the front door. One could barely make out the sound of a blade sinking into soft flesh as well as a single loud cry before hearing several soft thuds, sounding suspiciously like ten corpses hitting the ground simultaneously.​
For the next couple minutes, all that was to be heard was the sounds of large objects being dragged across the ground and tossed into a dumpster. The assassin walked back into the kitchen moments later, blade no longer emerging from his wrist. He quietly sat down and crossed his hands in prayer, offering up his meal and the lives of the men he had killed to Sargon before he ate. He then sat silently, waiting for Alkor to join them.​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
Alisha heard the sounds of conflict outside of the door, but seemed to feign ignorance on the matter. Her smile never wavered as she served the meal and sat at the head of the table dutifully, like a housewife tending her hungry family. The aroma of warm broth and boiled vegetables wafted across the room as Alkor returned, though if he took any notice of the conflict just outside he did not acknowledge as much. Instead, he took his seat and spooned a helping of the stew into his mouth. He continued to reflect for several long moments as they ate in silence, uncertainty in every breath.

"Murder for its own sake is a pointless venture," the Jen'jidai spoke with a yawn. "There are many other ways to solve problems."

Questions from law officials made Alkor antsy. Since his youth, and his arrest, he never trusted them; further, when there was murder involved, his record would not be kind if they decided to pull records. Complications were everywhere, waiting to be brought to bear. "Problem solving is an important part of the art," he explained. "A fighter must be able to assess any situation and find the path that leads to victory. That path is not always the least resistant."

It would be a foreign concept to most Sith. More, they often considered such talk to be the ramblings of Jedi, and dismissed them. Alkor knew better. Knowledge was another form of power. Teras Kasi masters were aloof, much the same was as those who they warred against, but they had more harsh training techniques and their doctrine dismissed the Force. They rarely took on pupils who were sensitive, and when they did those students were never Jedi.

Alkor lifted a hand and put up three fingers, his thumb, index, and middle. "If you want to learn the art, there are three things you need to understand. Using the Force during training is prohibited," he said bluntly.

Alisha blinked. "The Force?" she asked, her head tilted. "Are you two some kind of Jedi?" Her gaze lingered on one man, then the other. "You don't look like Jedi..."

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
Ajihad let a slight frown play across his face as the man called killing pointless. Of course there were other ways to solve issues, but killing was almost always the quickest. What if a Jedi started swinging a lightsaber at your neck? Was killing so pointless then?​
As he continued to listen, Ajihad subconsciously nodded to the man's words. Finding the quickest and most efficient path to victory was indeed a valuable ability. At least some of what was coming out of this man's mouth was wise.​
As Alkor continued on, the more it became apparent Teras Kasi was more than a martial art. It was a way of thinking. One must change their ideals and thought processes to understand it, something that could prove difficult for the assassin in some aspects. However, he would do what he had to in order to adapt.​
As the man said the force was prohibited, Ajihad's frown grew in size. Could he fight without the force? Sure, if he had to. However, there seemed to be little tactical advantage to it. Unless... "Is the lack of use of the force supposed to help build skill? I understand it is more difficult to fight without the force than with it, so is practicing like this meant to improve combat prowess?"
He then raised an eyebrow to the landlady's question a moment later. They were in the One Sith capital of Coruscant, he had just massacred police in the streets, and she thought these men were Jedi. It seemed she was indeed in her rightful place of the social hierarchy. Dwelling at the very bottom. "I am Sith. As for your friend, I really have yet to decide." It was true he didn't really know who this man was. Could he be an exiled Jedi, or a runaway Sith? Who knew with this one?​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
Alkor watched the expression of his newfound Sith friend change and grow in disdain, even impatience. While most men were not innately worried over showing these emotions, Sith often thrived on them to an excessive degree. A Jen'jidai rarely took the time to associate himself with the Sith, but it was easier to lay low in the midst of followers of the Dark side than among Jedi. That was what drew the Corellian to Coruscant, rather than someplace else. He seemed somewhat perturbed by the notion of combat without the force, but the question was an honest one. It was worth noting that the man did crave knowledge- a form of power- which made him a worthy learner, but Alkor still beleived that the craving outweighed a true desire for more than a means of garnering more strength for its own sake.

He was not out to convert anyone from one force philosophy to another, by any stretch, but...

"The man who taught me had the same conditions for me," Alkor stated as he folded his arms. "The Art of Teras Kasi is meant as more than just a means of killing a man, or many men. It is a means of creation and destruction. A man goes his entire life sowing seeds and reaping them. To fully understand both aspects, of life and of death, you must let go of all your preconceptions. The Sith indulge themselves and destroy whatever gets in the way of their path to greater power. You cannot learn to create if you seek only to destroy. Likewise, the Jedi refuse to destroy, and thus can only create. The notions are superfluous, however. It is the force itself that stands in your way now, of the path you have claimed to seek."

Alkor turned his gaze toward the window, where flashing lights indicated another scanner sweep passing overhead. "That is the beginning of understanding. The path of the force leads to knowledge as well, but this is knowledge you can only gain without it." He laid both his hands out on the table in full view, battered and calloused, dirty and misshapen seemingly from many impacts. "What you can do with the force and what you can do with your own two hands are at a stark contrast. Anoint the mind, savage the body."

Alisha stared down at the wounds in disbelief. "Sith?" she repeated the word. "I... but Sith are..."

"Human," Alkor answered, "no less human than Jedi, and no more. Breakable in every sense of the word. To be a murderer, you don't have to be good at fighting," he said. "You don't even need to be able to. You just have to find an opening. A warrior makes his own openings, and is not afraid to bleed for them."

She met Alkor's eyes uncertainly. "Warrior?" she tilted her head. "So... you're not a Jedi, or a Sith?"

"What I am hardly matters now," he dismissed. "But I will teach you, Sith. Provided you are amenable to my terms, as I was to my teacher's own. Honor is one of the few things I do find important, even among thieves, liars, and killers. Like us."

His lips turned upward in a smirk.

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
The assassin pulled down the front of his half-mask, beginning to eat the stew. He recoiled at first, as it was quite a bit hotter than he expected. However, he learned his lesson and adopted the practice of blowing gently on the spoon before each bite, so as not to burn his tongue on the savory soup.​
As Alkor finished his little monologue about the conditions of his training, Ajihad dwelled on what he had said. It seemed the martial art while not not using the force, it still heavily relied on it. It balanced between the light side and the dark, creation and destruction. The force's presence was not required physically, but it was very much needed mentally and spiritually. As he trained Ajihad would not be using the force in the traditional sense, but helping him to understand the art from within.​
However, as he finished speaking, there was still something the Jen'jidai hadn't mentioned. Two things, actually. "You have said I need to understand three things before you teach me Teras Kasi. I must not use the force, yes. What are these other two fundamentals?" As far as he was concerned, Alkor had told him many more than three things he needed to understand. However, he wasn't exactly sure what the basic three were.​
Ajihad raised an eyebrow to Alkor's account on how Sith and Jedi alike were all human. Was that joke? Ajihad didn't seem to find a sense of humor in him as of yet. "And I'd have to disagree with your comment on how we are all human. No, many of us are more..." As he spoke, the Sith's face morphed. It stretched and elongated into that of a wolf, fur sprouting from all of his hair follicles. Just a quickly as it had transformed, his face rapidly changed back in the blink of an eye. No, he was certainly not human in any sense of the word.​
[member="Alkor Centaris"]​
 
Shi'ido, perhaps? Or some other manner of shifter species. It might even be some trick performed with Sith Magic, but the Jen'jidai hardly seemed surprised. When the man's face transfigured into that of a wolf, however, Alisha let out a startled yelp. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she almost fell out of her chair. Alkor caught her wrist without his gaze leaving the Sith. "Human may have been a poor choice of word for my meaning," Alkor recanted blandly. Alisha adjusted her position and gulped down, then lowered both eyes to her stew. Alkor withdrew his hand and took up his spoon once more. "But the ultimate meaning is no different. Let's not split hairs over menial concessions."

The healthy brew of vegetables and meat slid down his tongue with a slurp. Alkor nodded his approval, though he hardly would have in different company. It helped to assuage some of the woman's terror, because she offered a small smile in response. "Obviously, we will both leave our weapons and any armor outside of the designated training area. They will be of no use in the early stages of training, and the temptation to use them will only create a tendency to draw on them for an advantage in combat."

Alkor laid down the spoon and turned his gaze to the woman. "Do you have any ale?" he asked. Her lips parted in slight confusion, then she frowned. "No, I don't keep booze in the house."

He sighed. "And the last condition is that you agree to tell no one where you learned the art," he added finally. Both cerulean eyes turned on Ajihad with a certain severity that they had lacked until this point. "Few men in the galaxy outside of the Palawa are trained in this art, and even less of them are amenable to imparting the knowledge. I enjoy my ability to go places and be afforded a certain amount of anonymity. I don't like training people in any of the skills I know, and in no small part this agreement is entirely contingent on my duty to Miss Alisha."

The woman in question blinked, then her face blossomed into ten shades of crimson. "Don't get the wrong idea," Alkor snapped. "A Jen'jidai does not allow his allies to die, regardless of their rank or strength. Until I leave Coruscant, and for as long as I live under your roof, I am bound to keep your neck from the blade."

Alisha continued to smile in spite of his stoic dispassion. Alkor continued to watch Ajihad, intent on the man's answer.

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 
(Sorry for crappy post quality, on mobile)

Ajihad smirked at the woman's reaction to him shape-shifting. The Gurlanin often liked to watch how simple folk such as her reacted to the more supernatural aspects of the galaxy.

He was also amused as to watching Alkor take a protective stance to her. He claimed it was because his kind never let down an ally, a noble reason indeed. However, Ajihad had a feeling that this man might care for her at a higher degree than he let on. Perhaps it wasn't denial, maybe he just couldn't bring himself to believe he could care for another living being at a personal level. An interesting notion indeed.

Ajihad pondered the man's conditions. He never liked to leave his weapons anywhere but on his person. That, combined with no force usage allowed, made Ajihad much more vulnerable than he typically allowed. However, he would have to step more than a bit outside of his comfort zone if he wanted to learn Teras Kasi.

He second condition was also within reason. In fact, Ajihad would have made the same condition himself if he were in the man's shoes. Anonymity was an import trait in the galaxy's current state, and witholding the information from others would give them less if a basis to defend themselves against him anyways.

"I agree to your terms. No force, no weapons, no telling. Now when do we begin?"

[member="Alkor Centaris"]
 
"We need to go elsewhere," Alkor replied immediately. "While I enjoy the undercity as much as anyone, it's hardly a decent venue for what we're going to do." It didn't help that it was the epicenter of Sith control in the galaxy, either. The Jen'jidai had grown weary of defending a bystander, and leaving now would give her the relative safety of her former lifestyle. Moreso than that, the security force of Coruscant offered a continual bother and Alkor wanted to find a place that would give them no such entanglements as they went through the techniques and meditation.

"There is a planet in the outer rim," he told Ajihad. "Honoghr. It's sufficiently remote for our purposes, and largely unaffiliated with current regimes."

Alisha looked despondent. "You're leaving?" she asked. "Can you take me off the planet, at least?"

Alkor glanced sidelong at her. "You're safer here," he said. "And being affiliated with me is not going to endear you to the Alliance. If you want to live happily, live quietly."

She frowned, but did not press the issue. "Meet me on Honoghr in three days time," Alkor announced as he scooped up his dishes and headed for the sink. "Come alone, obviously."

[member="Lord Ajihad"]
 

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