Coup

[Kyrinov]

His black dress shoes touched down on the dark, moist soil of Dromund Kaas. He looked down and scoffed at himself for the idiotic "mistake" he'd made. This kind of footwear has no place on a jungle planet, not with the multitude of various soil types and dense vegetation that threatened to all but swallow him whole should a predator shirk the opportunity at its next meal of the night. He made a mental note to find something a bit more... sturdy than the tuxedo he presently wore. Well, apart from the poor choice of clothing and the muck that now coated his once shined shoes, he gravitated to this planet like a moth to an open flame. Its pull was irresistible. No, even that thought was wrong. It was the planet which called to him. It was the destination which he sought that called to him in such an alluring way.

He recognized the pull for exactly what it was. He'd felt it time and time again, if only in smaller proportions. Perhaps the first true time he'd felt it was when his Master drained him and teetered him on the doorstep of death. The void that he'd been left with allowed him to become finely attuned to the voice of power and Dark Side Force energy that rang out from various sources that leeched from the Lord of Gluttony. It seemed that this particular source cried the loudest. It wailed and screamed almost as plangently as the voices within his head and body. As invigorating as it was, he continued to move to the north, through the trees and towards the goliath beast that beckoned him nearer and nearer to its gaping gullet.

Inon broke through the brush and took a step back. It seems he'd reached his destination, the effect was similar to an intense headache that persisted and pounded in perfect, inverse synchronization with his heartbeat. The pull of power was far stronger than the torment that scratched at the recesses of his mind. Still, he pushed forward, each step painstakingly harmful to his being. Each one more difficult as he trudged closer until he came upon the metallic prison that once held Darth Voracitos.

The man paused just past the threshold and pulled out a deep magenta vial that was only as long as his slender index finger and about twice as thick as it. He unscrewed the black top and looked around. The stench was foul, but what did he expect? Flowers and sunshine? This place reeked of a plethora of scents that he couldn't bring himself to even begin to identify. This was quite the prison they'd holed his Master in. A heavily fortified one, if first glances were indeed trustworthy. He looked around and walked deeper into the tomb. He had a rare chemical to find and contain. It would be essential to his work.

[member="Icarn Amonta"]

 

[Icarn Amonta]

Why anyone thought Icarn was suited for a simple retrieval mission was beyond him. There was no thrill in hunting non-sentients, no satisfaction in the kill when there was nothing to be killing. Truly, such missions were a waste both his talent and time. But alas, the skinshifter needed the cash. The job had come to him whilst business was in a slump, his particular talents perhaps too gruesome for the current games of assassination. Icarn was by no means overly eager to accept this incursion, but did he have anything better to do? How hard could getting some chemicals be, anyway?

The jungles of Dromund Kaas proved to be a navigational nightmare, hardly a selling tourist attraction. It must have rained recently, giving that Icarn's boots sunk into the soil with any particularly heavy step. Wildlife made for an ambiance befitting that of a treasure hunt reminiscent of Icarn's current endeavor. Every so often, the roar of a rancor pierced the relative silence, promising tales of danger for all save those truly fit to conquer such a beast. As bored as Icarn was and as confident as he was in his own abilities, better judgment urged that he stayed on the steady course. The rancor's wouldn't be going anywhere. His prize, on the other hand, just might. That would be just his luck, anyway, to come so far only for the chemicals to not be there at all. The thought of that had the Shi'ido temporarily hasten his pace, only to slow much more just moments later.

What did he have to fear? Who else in their right mind would be after this chemical? And, in the odd event that this did become a race for time, what would keep him from simply allowing his competitor to deliver the prize to him? Nah, to hasten his pace would be to waste his energy on a menial task.

He neared the tomb with a lazy gait and a whistle piercing the air, having no care for who or what might hear him. The overall feel of the area, if not the stench alone, had his skin quite literally crawling. He considered taking on a different form, one that would save his practically perfect features from being scarred by the tomb's horrors. Better yet, one lacking a nose. But no, there would be no gain without pain, right? And in the unlikely event he were to come across someone, he'd treat them to at least a pretty sight before they died. So onwards he went, still whistling a tune, his mind reaching out to scout for other sentience, if only to give himself something to do.

[member="Inon"]​

 

[Kyrinov]

He felt it almost immediately, someone was inside of the Asylum with him. It couldn't have been one of the rancors he'd heard growl on the way here, rancors didn't have any kind of Force presence like this person. Rancors were animals, they couldn't be felt or perceived in the same way that a sentient beings could be felt. They had a presence, yes. However, it was one that was simply there. There was nothing significant about an animal, hostile or docile. This presence was quite odd. It was Dark, yes. But, it shifted somehow. It changed and pressed through the building in a way that should not have been possible for the typical Force User. Yet, it was a familiar presence.

Inon opened himself to the Force, allowing the void in him to increase ever so slightly in case he needed to react through or with the Force at some point. He cautiously made his way back towards the entrance, feeling the energy that resonated to him grow and grow until it seemed to encase him in a thick aura that threatened to all but consume him if he were not careful enough. He knew that specific, transfigurative energy from somewhere. Rather, he knew of that energy. If only he could think of the name of the person he came to associate it with.

He'd just thought of the name of the being with such a presence about them.

But, by the time he'd pat himself on the back in his mind and looked at where he was going, he'd quite literally bumped into the person that the strange energy originated from. There he stood, a mess of long-ish jet black hair that concealed the majority of his face from a profile view.

The sight almost made him scowl and grin at the same thing. Well, a sight that he'd only heard about in hushed whispers before now.

When he spoke, the word came out more as a smooth, melodic, and friendly greeting than the hiss of disdain that he'd been aiming for.

"Hello... Icarn."

[member="Icarn Amonta"]

 

[Icarn Amonta]

If he felt another presence in the immediate area, Icarn made no indication of such. His carefree stature was normal for him, after all there were few beings he'd come across that presented a threat to him. If anything, most were just distractions, toys to pass the time with. And judging how quiet the area was, he could certainly use the distraction. Honestly, he ought to stop taking such boring jobs. The money was all fine and dandy but the boredom was agonizing.

When he did catch sight of the other, he didn't change his pace. If anything, it quickened slightly in curiosity. Who else would even bother with such a place? Were they after the same objective? Gee, that would such a shame for this other person. Maybe if anyone other than Icarn was on the job, they'd find success but alas, fate was not on their side. Truly a shame for them, but perhaps a blessing for Icarn. They would serve a new purpose - to entertain him on this dreadfully boring endeavor.

His feet had come to a halt as the other approached him, waiting with arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised in mild amusement as he was practically walked into. "Not the most observant one, are you?" he purred, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So you've heard of me. I'm flattered. I suppose you have a name?"

[member="Inon"]​