Private Fear

[Sinestra]

...place is as vibrant as Coruscant, but the vibrancy here's the motley list of races each trynna paint the other crimson red, if you get my gist. It's a melting pot a degree less from a melted pot and it's been getting way, way hotter with what's been goin' out there at Zabrakplaast lately. Hey, if you do pass by Galaardrop -- there's a great Chiss lady at the Come Right Inn--
##transmission disconnected##

- the hardly professional ISB Agent Brenko's intel​

Zabrakplaats, Hazaria Nieuw-West
Anobis

In his own... cynical way, agent Brenko's intel seemed to be spot on. Zabrakplaats was a patchwork of sagging rooftops, peeling paint, and boarded-up windows. Some structures leaned precariously, propped up by makeshift beams and scaffolding, while others had collapsed entirely, leaving gaping holes where homes and businesses once stood. Yet amid the old decay, there were marks of something new -- fresh graffiti calling for violence towards Humans or Zabraks plastered across walls, still warm scorched marks of homemade incendiary explosives blackening the pavement and broken steel bars of law enforcement ramparts dumped across various streets and alleys.

Had this been the natural, the eternally recurrent cycle of violence, Sinestra would have not been here. But her visions had summoned her here, the sheer terror they had invoked had nearly seized her heart. What was occurring here was anything but natural. The seer was set to find out by herself until the Emperor had commanded her to bring, of all other Elite, the Nephilim. A man with whom she had shared a meld not long ago during the summit of Bogan. His aura was a tangible threat, a twisted edge of insanity barely kept in check.

But she had to trust the Emperor. Despite what had occurred on Bogan.

At the very least, she had to obey him.

With hoods over their heads and lightsabers concealed, the duo trod down the streets, knowing well if their true allegiance was revealed they would be stranded in the heart of enemy territory.

"Have you been here before?" the seer asked, reluctantly breaking the silence.

Malva'ikh Dralidok​

​

 

[Malva'ikh Dralidok]

FEAR
~I cut you in, deafening~

GEAR: In bio
TAG: Sinestra

Spoiler

HAZARIA NIEUW-WEST, HAZARIA, ANOBIS

You can't ever lie to your senses. Not about a person; the scream out of his lung still fills the void in my head till this day. Not about a time; decades ago when I was a skinny little knight errant, when a stab still felt painful, in its truest, negative connotation, not the one I'm chasing the high off. Not about a not about a place; the smell of fear and hate in Hazaria remains even after decades.

The Force has since taken me so far away from the life that feels like a lifetime ago, yet the senses keep the memories linger. Even the one you weren't conscious to begin with. Hazaria was a memory, a blast from the past. I've traveled through the agonies of space and time, rode the highest high, shed blood in half-conscious rampages, and attended the highest profile death gala in the belly of the Hutt Space and the Slice. Yet nothing ever feels as surreal as Hazaria.

No, it wasn't the place where I slaughtered a whole station intoxicated by the Dark Side. It was way before. It was the precursor to the life of the Nephilim that everyone knows and loves.

The Sith'ari favorite had been delegated the role of His voice for the time being and took me to this wretched, magnificent city. She leads the way on the Nieuw-West street, citing an intel of riots and VIPs.

I see right through you, girl.

Hazaria has always been a kettle pot ready to explode on the next added spice. You don't take the Nephilim to rescue some blue lizard with another info in her head.

"Have you been here before?" the seer asked, reluctantly breaking the silence.

I chuckled at her baiting question, and the street we are currently at. She's taking me to the wrong part of the city if she wants amusing tales.

"The senses never lie, it still smells the same after decades."

Smell of the mundane. Of life of the middle class. Too rich to have a survival instinct, too poor to have any resemblance of control in their life. Of constant fear of being useless, of being replaced.

"It's a dull place to visit, nothing worth your time, really." I told her nonchalantly while keeping my eyes on the tailgate, looking forward to any form of reaction. There's no harm in trying to dig into her the way she's trying to do mine.

After all, everything will be revealed once we get our minds melded, for much much longer than we did. All in due time.

​

 

[Sinestra]

Sinestra raised an eyebrow. The Nephilim had spoken but essentially said nothing. Fine, she would not pry him open. Not yet, at least. If the Emperor had sent him here, then that was only a matter of time.

"Fortunately, we are not here to just visit." she replied, keeping her eyes fixated ahead.

They turned left off the main street and into a dark alley where the only light was the glitching, neon sign of Blue Ember struggling to stay lit. A cantina establishment for its patrons, a watering hole for anyone else in the galaxy.

The usual buzz of loud conversation had quieted to low murmurs more fitting for a funeral. The band in the corner played a slow, haunting tune, their heads lowered, avoiding eye contact with the sparse crowd. At the bar, a Chiss bartender kept a wary eye on a few grunts, who sat with their blasters resting casually on the counter. The usual crowd of rowdy gamblers was absent, replaced by a few sullen figures hunched over their drinks, their glances darting to the door every time it creaked open. Even the air smelled different, the usual scent of burning spice was replaced with the acrid tang of burnt metal from the riots a few days ago.

Sinestra doubted even her saber could cut through the tension hanging over the Ember. She glanced at her companion, then headed for the bar, suspicious eyes trailing the off-world duo. The bartender had noticed them, but he stayed anchored at the far end, his hand working a rag inside a glass. The seer raised her hand to call him over and he hesitated, then took a few steps forward—just enough to hear them, but still too far for any easy reach.

"I don't want any of your trouble." he stated through a whisper, then turned his back to the duo, his hand returning to polishing the glass until it turned crystal.

"We're only asking wh--"

"I said I don't want any. Of your. Trouble." he asserted, loud enough to make the grunts at the far end of the bar lift their heads from their drinks and shoot wary glances at the newcomers.

Malva'ikh Dralidok​

 

[Malva'ikh Dralidok]

FEAR
~I cut you in, deafening~

GEAR: In bio
TAG: Sinestra

Spoiler

HAZARIA NIEUW-WEST, HAZARIA, ANOBIS

"Water, please? We all don't want any of their troubles." I whispered from beyond my cloak.

Zabraks. No-good-for, filthy thugs. Five of them. Maybe if I left their fathers begging for their life a lifetime ago instead of butchering all those delinquents they would've warned their sons of the diabolical Evereni.

Yet the past is in the past. And bloodshed is reserved for the very near future. A big game hunt is always more enticing compared to pest control.

As for the situation in hand, well, Sinestra didn't make it any easier with her rather, assertive approach. This city is a rogue Imperial Remnant nest, there are rats on every corner of the street and in every establishment. A small incident here will make its way to the Warlord's palace. We don't want that.

"We lookin' for an inn. The lady's tired after a full day lookin' for an exquisite rhodusite." I added, emphasizing on the blue gemstone as I tapped in the Force, reading every small movement; in front, behind, above, and below the establishment.

No movement above and below. Which means it's just the Chiss, the Zabraks and the rats if it ever comes to that. That's the worst outcome for everyone; we fail the mission, the Chiss, the Zabraks, the rogue Imperials all butchered by the Nephilim, and the Sith'ari is losing two of his best.

Let's just hope that the bartender sees the crazy in my eyes and feels the creeping aura of terror, and decides to do the sensible thing.

​

 

[Sinestra]

The bartender stopped wiping the glass in hand. He flashed a glance at the Zabraks, then back at the Evereni, then bit his lip with a curse under his breath. Setting the rag and glass aside, the Chiss tilted his head for them to follow.

Sinestra blinked, shooting an arched eyebrow at the Nephilim's tongue of silver.

"Who would've thought?" she snorted.

They found the Chiss inside gesturing for the duo to remain silent, before the loud racket of dishwaters starting enveloped the empty kitchen.

"We can talk now." he said, "Look, I'm not stupid -- I don't know what brings you here, but I sure as hell know it's not gems." the Chiss pinched the bridge of his nose, then relented, "A month ago some radical anti-alien Human group showed up in town. Call themselves the Aspirants, or something like that. They've been beating up Zabraks left and right, killing them, torching their places and any place they visit. That's why I don't want any trouble. I've got these five Zabrak gunners out there, if the Aspirants see them hanging out here for too long -- this place's gone in flames."

"You're not telling us everything." Sinestra asserted.

The Chiss' red eyes shifted for the exits of the kitchen, then fell on the towering figure of the Evereni.

He sighed.

"They... I've seen them gather at the abandoned Crown Hotel. It-it's in the outskirts of the district, west from here. Big crown on top, can't miss it."

"... just please, whatever you're here for, don't go by the Ember again."

Malva'ikh Dralidok

 

[Malva'ikh Dralidok]

FEAR
~I cut you in, deafening~

GEAR: In bio
TAG: Sinestra

Spoiler

HAZARIA NIEUW-WEST, HAZARIA, ANOBIS

"The Imperials up north don't do anything about that?"

This might be a ploy by the head honcho of this planet's Imperial Remnant. They might have sniffed our plan to take over the city and would rather leave us with ashes. Or not. Maybe the remnant is just not capable of handling it, and Zabraks just have a shootable face, maybe there's nothing beyond it. Either way, we are sent here by the Sith'ari, and that seems to be too much of a coincidence.

The Chiss did give us a location, but what could we, two xenos barely familiar with the city, could do with that information? Storm right in? It's too risky, we could alert the other camps of this Aspirant group he's talking about, or the remnant, worse come to worse. My mind keeps digging for a possible backdoor to these ordeals, and that only leads to Come Right Inn comes in.

"Before we leave, I heard a thing or two about another hotel too. In Galaardrop. What's it called again?"

I glanced at Sinestra, giving her a sign to continue the interrogation. This whole thing is too suspicious to jump into without extra preparation. There is definitely a missing link we ought to discover first. Maybe our lady friend can help make this a more pleasant affair.

​