Bang Bang

[Bubák]

The lower levels of Coruscant were not a nice place, be it before or after the takeover by the One Sith. To the new faction’s credit, they did try to do something about the mess that resided on the lower levels, unlike the Republic. It certainly appeared as if the former governing body did not care about the problem; or, more precisely, resigned on the situation and never attempted to fix it, too busy with poking their sticks into other factions to repair their own playground.

There were very few things Izinri hated more than these Jetisee and their Republic. The feeling was mutual; they have invaded her home and forced her into hiding. As a Sith, she was less than an animal in their eyes, a virus they desperately wanted to cure by the only way they knew; killing her. She did not have to say a word; she did not have to do anything at all. The moment any of those stick waving idiots saw her skin color, she was deemed corrupt and evil, which was more than enough to earn her a death sentence because anything associated with the Sith was infinitely evil, which in turn meant anything the Jedi did was infinitely good. Luckily, Izinri lacked many Sith features, often allowing her to pretend to be a Zeltron with darker pigmentation. Still, the incredible amount of prejudice and speciesism in the Republic made it impossible for her to find honest work in their space, forcing her to resort to the more dangerous way of getting credits. With the Sith suffering a seemingly crippling blow at the time, it was no surprise the young woman eventually found herself aligning with the Mandalorians.

Dressed in Mandalorian armor and wielding a light repeating blaster supplied by a small power generator on her back, she young Sith slowly paced through the streets. Officially, she was one of the volunteers and mercenaries patrolling the lower levels of Coruscant to keep peace and order, unofficially she was collecting a bounty here and there. Quite profitable, actually, but not much of a challenge. Unless she ran into one of the resistance pockets, of course. Those consisted of Jedi, military veterans and whatnot. Killing those bastards was fun though, for both challenge and revenge.

Glancing around, she spotted some wenches selling their bodies and a drunk vomiting on the other side of the street. Something was telling Izinri that those folks would not use the opportunity the One Sith offered by opening several factories or something like that. Not that she cared anyway; she was getting paid for looking tough and killing people who violently opposed the new rulers of the planet. Most troublemakers did not have to see her stern gaze under the helmet to know attacking a person like her was suicidal.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

The dark, depressing streets of Coruscant's lower levels would be dimly illuminated by the neon signs that advertised many establishments, most being run-down and full of scum. Thugs, skanks, drunkards and the likes littered the streets as Ballen-Ist made himself apparent, exiting one of the more well kept cantinas. His upright, confident posture displayed an attitude that not many individuals possessed amongst the streets, for most had given up long ago their lives. The youthful Sith pure blood would not bother to give anyone a second glance as his black, cloaked figure made it's way out in the crowds, moving swiftly through the people until a comfortable space was found. The young Knight could've used his powers to simply force everyone out of his way, but that would cause unnecessary attention to be drawn onto him. The storm troopers that had accompanied the seventeen year old were like the One Sith's own soldiers, however they had been brought up under the New Order's training and lead. However, the group of ten troops would simply make their way through the streets, heading in the opposite direction of their leader. They were dressed in casual clothing, having been posing as mere thugs within the bar. Now they had been ordered to return to the shuttle, to prepare for leaving.

Having been on Korriban hours earlier, Ballen-Ist could not help but find himself where he didn't belong. It was weird, but the stress caused by fighting pirates and making it off a Republic world simply drove him to relax amongst the filth. Either way, he didn't know much about the upper class establishments, surely their ways were much too boring and polite for his likes. The underworld offered excitement at all corners, even while one sat quietly and drank water. That is what he had been doing after all, until he decided to leave for an appointment he had almost forgotten about. The boy was scheduled to duel someone he had brought back from Korriban, and he had most definitely kept them waiting. A large, black cloth hood was pulled over Ballen-Ist's head as his feet moved swiftly, propelling him at a quick pace through the wide streets. Holding the long cloak tightly to his form, the boy wouldn't bother to look up until his form slammed into another's, causing him to take a single step back.

"Watch where..." The teen would begin, lifting his head in order to look upwards. His blazing yellow eyes would glare out from the slight shadows cast by his attire, aiming to lock onto whatever had caused him the brief discomfort. His gaze would be met by the helmet of a Mandalorian, it's reflective surface almost causing his eyes to flinch as many lights were redirected off of it. "...You're going." Ballen-Ist would finish, noting the rather small, but athletic frame of whoever laid beneath the beskar suit. Reaching out with the force, the boy would easily feel the untapped potential the warrior held, whoever they were. Strangely enough, another similarity would be made known as the force continued to probe for information, seeking out feelings of hatred that were deep-seated. It was unsure where or what these thoughts were directed at, though one thing was sure, and that was the natural, but untapped connection to the dark side that Ballen-Ist felt. Who was this person? [member="Izinri"]

 

[Bubák]

Izinri barely shook as the figure bumped into her. This was surprising, since any and all citizens who walked in her direction made sure to get out of her way. Maybe because of the hefty cannon in her hands, maybe because of the armor that supported the intimidating factor, the Sith woman certainly did not expect this. The first, instinctive reaction upon feeling his body contact with her armor was to push his back, away from her with her repeating blaster. It seemed she was lucky enough to hit a street rat, a little pathetic thief using one of the oldest tricks in the galaxy. These thoughts were futher supported by his apparel; dark cloak and hood pulled over his face indicated the person hidden underneath the cloth did not wish to be seen and remained somewhat anonymous to quickly disappear in the streets and people if needed. Paying no attention to his words, Izinri aimed towards the ground and started raising her weapon to take aim. No trial, no regret. The apparent thieve's life meant absolutely nothing to her. Then there was a slight possibility the being was a member of a certain order in hiding. Many poorer beings wore robes and cloaks, yet only few groups of people thought they had not raised suspicion while having hoods covering their heads indoors or when no rain threatened to wet their hair. Jedi filth. Just the thought filled her with excitement. She desperately wanted to kill another of those Bantha herders, to quench her bloodlust just a bit... Whether the man sought to steal her belongings or stir up a rebellion against the One Sith, he was about to test his ability of deflecting blaster fire, 680 bolts per minute to be exact. The index finger on her right hand readied itself to pull the trigger.

The barrel of her weapon stopped moving up before she even aimed higher than at his feet. Up until now, the hood did a good job at casting shadow over the young man's eyes. The shock in her yellow orbs remained hidden under the helmet as she saw the eyes of a Sith. Years of experience as a gun of hire were useless right now; upon seeing one of her own species, Izinri froze, her mind racing. She definitely had not expected to see a Sith. The last time she had seen one was when the Republic invaded and butchered Korriban. The HoloNews portrayed the event as a great victory of freedom and democracy, making the teenage Sith hate the Republic and the Jedi Order even more than before. Even now, just thinking about it made her blood boil.

Pulling herself together, Izinri lowered the weapon, not aiming at the young Sith anymore. "What is a Sith doing in filth and dirt?" she asked swiftly, still tense and prepared to raise her weapon again if needed. The Sith Mando did not want to take any chances, but she did not intend to gun down one of those who were kindly paying her for clearing up the streets.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Taking a few steps backwards, Ballen-Ist would simply stand shocked, finding it unbelievable that someone had shoved him. [member="Izinri"] and her armor had indeed pushed back, forcing the boy backwards a step or two. Examining the females height, he would find it difficult to discern her age, though if he had to guess they were relatively close to each other in years. Remembering his training, the young Sith Knight would direct his vision towards the ground quickly, watching as the girl's arms flexed in order to lift the cannon just barely. Having utilized his force sense ability, he had been able to sense the many emotions that floated around the teenager's mind, who was opposite of him. The crowds that walked back and forth on the street would part to the sides for the duo as they stood, like a rock against a powerful river. The long barrel of the repeating rifle would be raised up ever so slightly, as would a single black gloved hand from beneath the boy's cloak. The Sith's palm had been clenched, forming a semi-fist as his fingers twitched, eagerly awaiting to control the amount of oxygen one's lungs and brain received. Such harsh and instinctive methods were traditional amongst dark siders, although the boy had realized he himself was straying from such ways.

Concealing his arm, the boy's hand would disappear underneath his cloak while he instead relied on his mind, sensing out Izinri's own briefly. Many strong emotions swirled within her, though the most notable was the incredible bloodlust that seemed to leak off of her. Even as he took in the fear of the girl's realization, her anger and hatred that was directed at something was still present. Looking over her attire, he would fully notice that she was a Mandalorian, most likely belonging to one of their major factions. Well, it was worth a shot. Looking upwards, Ballen-Ist's burning gaze would pierce through the T-visor she wore to mask her identity. Beneath all of the emotions he sensed, there was something else that made her shocked, other than the fact that he was a Sith. Or was it that very reason? Then, comes into play the real question, Sith species or Sith Knight? It was rather confusing, however the boy's mind would remain open to the force, allowing it to guide him through this situation. Remaining quiet, he would listen to her words before immediately replying, "What is a bloodthirsty killer doing in filth and dirt?"

 

[Bubák]

Bloodthirsty killer? This made the Mandalorian giggle a bit from under the helmet, that was an interesting way of calling her and she honestly found the Sith's boldness amusing since not many would dare to say such thing into her face. Did she really look that very intimidating, in the armor she wore and the cannon in her hands? He was not entirely wrong though. An independent spectator might call Izinri a bloodthirsty killer upon seeing her in combat, because she ultimately was exactly that. Though considering the cloaked Sith had no way of seeing her blood lust in battle, it implied he did have a way of getting inside her head, thus meaning she faced a trained Force user. That, Izinri did not like. Just the thought of it creeped her out, imagining all things someone very experienced could do with her mind without her even noticing it.

Despite being a Force sensitive herself, the young woman had no training whatsoever, meaning she could not do anything to stop the Sith Pureblood from attacking her mind and probing her feelings. It wouldn't be as easy to do as breaking into the mind of an average galactic citizen due to the small protection her Force sensitivity offered, but if her opponent knew what he was doing... Her eyes stared through the visor, noting what the young Sith Pureblood did with his hands. By now she had no doubt he possessed a lightsaber, as most, if not all Force users did. If nothing else, this ruled out the Sith in front of her being a thief.

Instead of opening fire, Izinri decided to surprise him just as he had done to her. Her left hand let go of the heavy weapon, leaving the right arm to carry the repeating blaster. Izinri was strong, even more so with her augmented muscles, so holding the heavy gun in just one hand did not give her much trouble as long as she did not have to shoot. The free hand reached up towards the helmet the Mando wore and slowly removed it with a hiss of air. “Where does your allegiance lie?” she retorted with a question of her own, her voice no longer filtered through the helmet as she lifted it over her head, allowing the breeze to caress her red skin and play with her hair. It felt rather good. Placing the helmet under her arm, the glowing yellow eyes returned the Pureblood’s gaze.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Everything became clear to Ballen-Ist at this point, as he listened to the female giggle, before she lifted the Mandalorian helment off of her head. He could feel the uneasiness she felt, however it was unimportant for the young boy had not been successful in prying too deep. He had only been taught the basics of mind techniques long ago, from a One Sith Knight. The teenager had long lowered his arm, his hand having ceased any hostility it had intended. If the Mandalorian were to attack, he would be ready, however he did not sense any spite off of her anymore. Her black locks of hair would become apparent as the helmet was taken off completely, being held under her arm at this point. The boy's jaw would hang open for a brief moment as he looked over her smooth red skin, noting the youthful facial features she possessed.

There was little doubt in Ballen-Ist's mind that the two were around the same age, but he had never suspected her of being a Sith. Looking over her features again, he would begin to count her fingers, seeing as she had no tendrils upon her face. Pure bloods were rare nowadays, of course she was a half breed. The Knight could not help but sigh in utter disappointment, lowering his gaze before averting it back to meet her own. The yellow hue of her eyes were not comparable to his own, for he had been immersed in the dark side for a long time. They would glow brightly with slight anger, as the tendrils upon his chin began to quiver. "I could say the same thing, what is a Sith doing in Mandalorian armor?" He questioned, not sure as to where this meeting would take the duo. "You have a gift, one that is wasted in your current situation." He explained.
[member="Izinri"]

 

[Bubák]

Izinri smirked upon seeing [member="Ballen-Ist"]'s reaction, the expression that formed upon his face when she revealed her own race. Her yellow eyes noticed his gaze moving towards her hands, most likely to easily determine whether she was a pureblood or not. Well, he was in for a disappointment. Not that she was surprised; those of pure blood valued their ancestry and more often than not respected the ancient traditions of the Sith. Obviously, when confronted with a member of their own race who did not share the purity, the pure Sith often saw failure in their unclean kinsmen, it meant a pure-blooded Sith must have fallen so low to mate with a member of another race a long time ago. Force knows what kind of life awaited Izinri had the Republic not attacked Korriban. A slave to the pure Sith, maybe a lowly Acolyte? It hardly mattered now... She questioningly eyed the boy as he expressed his concern. Was her Force sensitivity being wasted? Definitely, but then again, she never really needed to use the Force. As a mercenary, a gun for hire, the teenage Sith had yet to encounter a situation her powerful weaponry would be unable to solve.

She spoke again, the smile on her face disappearing as a more casual expression took over. "I have an armor made out of beskar, I have a weapon that fires about seven hundred shots per minute, I get paid for shooting people. What more could I wish for?" she shrugged and glanced around, noting several sentients who paid too much attention to the two Sith. Fortunately, Izinri's frown has proven to be enough to persuade them into minding their own business. Returning her gaze to the young Sith in front of her, the female Sith curiously watched the pureblood. "Listen, my job is to patrol the streets and help the One Sith keep order. Mercenaries like me are the closest thing to justice one can find in places like this, since the security forces do not dare to venture to these parts if they don't have to. I need to keep moving." Her helmet slid over her head again, hiding her face.

 

[Ballen-Ist]

"Your weapons and armor pale in comparison to the power of the force." Ballen-Ist would explain, not exactly wanting to come off as an arrogant dark sider right off the bat. If he hadn't already done so, that is. Sensing out with his mind, the youth would be able to sense the doubt in her mind, the fear of becoming some sort of puppet, perhaps. It was true that the Sith often did things like this, however Ballen-Ist cared little. The streets would grow loud again as the commoners went about their business, only sending a casual glance to the duo as they passed. "Aiding the One Sith is noble, but you could do so much more. You're making a mistake." The teenager would say to the girl, watching as she placed the helmet back on her head.

"One day, you'll realize. I don't know how, but it will happen." The boy would say, remaining still amongst the crowds. If she left, she left, and so would the Knight.
[member="Izinri"]

 

[Bubák]

“Maybe,” she shrugged, her left hand gripping the barrel of the massive weapon and holding it firmly again, “The blaster bolt from this weapon can penetrate a 1000 kg bantha without losing much of its power. Can you deflect eleven of those bolts in one second? The abilities of the Force are formidable, but are nothing compared to modern weaponry. And my armor? Lightsaber resistant, almost indestructible.” Izinri said, her voice emotionless. It almost felt like cheating, having these things when the other party did not. The New Order learned that the hard way, but truth to be told, the Mandalorians would have lost the war without their seemingly unlimited supply of beskar that saved most of them from being killed. Because of their armor, they have grown arrogant, reckless and rash. There was no tactic. No brain being used. Just muscle and blind charge into whatever danger they faced.

Izinri started to walk away, ready to continue her patrol when she froze after thinking of the Pureblood’s words. Did he try to persuade her into joining the One Sith? So far, the only thing that made their jobs worthy her time was being paid a nice sum of credits. That, and Izinri held nothing against the One Sith, unlike some of her brothers and sisters blinded by inexplicable hate. “Maybe,” she said again, “But Mandalorians are my family. I cannot betray my family, my honor. When the Republic attacks the One Sith again, I will help you though… for free. To be honest, I’ll gladly kill a Jedi and take any chance to hurt the Republic I can get. It is not about money, really, it is about revenge…,” Giving the young Sith one last glance, she took off, disappearing in the streets. Strangely enough, she felt as if this was not their last meeting. Something was telling her the life she used to live would inevitably come to an end, take a drastic turn and give her no option to turn back.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]