Private Forbidden Knowledge

[Ishani Dinn]

A little bell rang as Ishani entered the antique shop, startling her with the sharpness of the sound it made. She was used to soft, inoffensive chimes announcing to shopkeepers that a new customer had entered—but then she was also used to doors sliding open automatically at her approach. She had stood outside under the noon sun for nearly a full minute, wondering why it hadn’t opened on its own, before she finally noticed the sign that said please push door.

Inside it was cool, a welcome respite from the humidity of summer on Naboo. The first room she encountered was filled with very old clocks made of wood and stone, great tall things that ticked and chimed and had to be wound up. Ishani wondered if it was meant to symbolize going back in time as one entered the shop. That would certainly fit with the quaintness of the push door.

Ishani took it all in, walking slowly and carefully. She was a little afraid of knocking something over. After all, every relic in here was priceless and unique, having survived the passage of time. She’d hate to be the cause of its damage or destruction on account of her clumsiness. It didn’t help that she was wearing brand new shoes with heels higher than she was used to. Shoes which she had bought yesterday after being lured into a fancy boutique by the sight of pretty clothes in the window, along with the dress, the stockings, and the green silk ribbon tying her hair back, to say nothing of the other frivolous pretty things she had bought before she finally stopped herself… Force forgive the one who had seen fit to give her access to a seemingly bottomless bank account during this trip. She had wasted the entire day shopping for things she didn’t need.

But today, she was determined to get what she had come for. This was the fourth (or was it the fifth? she was losing track, the heat addling her brain) antique shop she had visited in her quest, and she hoped it would be her last. In the room beyond, she glimpsed an old woman sitting behind a glass counter. If she looked up from her holomag at the sound of the tinkling bell, the glance was so quick that Ishani must have missed it. The shop was quiet, with seemingly nobody else around. It wasn’t as if the shopkeep was busy…

“Hi,” she said, approaching the counter. The old woman looked up, but didn’t say anything. “I’m, uh… looking for something specific.”

“It’s pretty safe to say that everything in here is specific,” the old woman replied dryly. “What is it?”

“A device about this big, shaped like a pyramid.” She gestured with her hands. “It should be red, made out of crystal lattice. Maybe with some ornate markings along the sides, like runes or some dead language...”

Thin white eyebrows rose. “A holocron?”

“Uh… yeah,” Ishani replied, brow furrowing. She was surprised the old woman had guessed. Most normal people didn’t know about holocrons, right? Did the old woman know that red pyramid-shaped ones were usually associated with the Sith? Lowering her voice, she added, “I’m looking for a holocron, yes. Do you have any?”

“I don’t keep them in stock. Sometimes trinkets like that come in, but they don’t stay for long. Collectors come and snatch them up as soon as they arrive, and not for cheap either.”

“Money won’t be a problem.” Ishani shifted her weight from one pinched foot to the other. “Could you just—could you at least check to make sure you don’t have anything?”

Raising her eyebrows, the old woman stepped out from behind the counter and disappeared into a back room. Ishani studied the antique jewelry encased in glass, gnawing on her lower lip as she awaited the shopkeep’s return...

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

No. Freaking way.

He had done it. Well. They had done it! After multiple trips spent scoping out the market and examining the movements and tendencies of his minders, Brandyn and Davian had successfully managed to slip away from those tasked with keeping an eye on them, and ultimately keeping Brandyn safe.

"OK. So...no what?" Davian asked. Brandyn's face scrunched up. They had spent so many weeks planning their getaway, that the whole aspect of what to do after they successfully escaped had alluded them.

"We don't get caught, to start with," Brandyn said, mind racing for an actual purpose to this madness.

"Well...thought that went without saying," said Davian with a shrug, the groundskeeper's son looking less than impressed with the scope of Brandyn's ambition, "I know a great bakery just down the way..."

"Get down!" Whisper-yelled Brandyn as his hand pushed Davian's head down. The tall peasant boy grumbled at the manhandling but was grateful when they both watched the security detail passing them without incident.

"This is Ray-Echo-Delta. No sign of them in this quadrant, sweeping the perimeter."

Brandyn began to process what that would mean. The perimeter probably meant the outskirts of the market. He glanced quickly over his back to realize that he had little cover there, and his back was facing towards the edge of the market sector of the city. Any guard sweeping any perimeter nearby would surely be able to spot them where they were crouched.

The sound of a bell caught Brandyn's attention, and he glanced across the way to see an old door swinging on hinges. The shop appeared to be an antique store, there was little of interest in there for Brandyn save that there were so many items for sale in the windows that the view from outside was almost completely obscured by...stuff.

A quick tap on Davian's shoulder and a point in the general direction was all the warning Brandyn gave before running across the street, leaving his lanky co-conspirator behind. The bell rang, as Brandyn entered, and he did his best impression of his mother when she was just 'looking' in stores.

“A device about this big, shaped like a pyramid. It should be red, made out of crystal lattice. Maybe with some ornate markings along the sides, like runes or some dead language...”

“A holocron?”

Brandyn froze. A chill ran up his spine. Holocron. Red. Like the ones in the Holo-films. They were real? Wait. They were real! And in the holos...it was never a Jedi that looked for them. It was always...

The young Sal-Soren felt his heart begin to pound in his chest. He was in the room with an actual Sith. It had to be a Sith. Only a Sith would want a Sith holocron. He was sure of this. Even if he was wrong. A Sith holocron was not something to mess with.

Edging towards the entrance, Brandyn pushed his way through the door while looking back over his shoulder to finally catch a glimpse of the Sith...before crashing into Davian who was on his way in.

"OOF," Davian exclaimed, "wait...what...we aren't hiding in here...?"

Brandyn's hand came up to cover Davian's mouth, as he hissed a, "shhhhh".

Pushing the taller teen back across to their previous hiding place, Brandyn held his hand over while he explained their predicament. "There...is a Sith in there," he said, Davian's eyes conveying confusion then grave concern, "and we...are going to stop them from doing whatever...evil...thing they are trying to do." Davian shook his head, a sound no in response to Brandyn's declaration.

Brandyn removed his hand, and ignored the verbal protestations from his friend, while turning back to face the antique stores front door. Whoever this Sith was. She had met her match. She? It was only then that the image of the girl inside had returned to his mind, and he found his moment of courage dissipate in a gust of nerves.

"Damn it, Brandyn," he whispered, "keep you mind on the task at hand..."

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani had jumped yet again as she heard the sound of the bell jangling, but didn’t think anything of it, continuing her conversation with the shopkeep. The boy who had entered left shortly before the old woman returned, shaking her head.

“We haven’t got any holocrons, period, let alone anything like the one you described.”

Sighing, Ishani ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you for checking,” she mumbled, turning to go… only to pause. “What about, um… old weapons?”

“Old weapons?” the old woman echoed.

“... Yeah. Like swords, or bows and arrows, blasters or even lightsabers from a long time ago.”

Wrinkled lips pursed in thought. “We do keep such things, but they are upstairs.” Walking around a corner to a spiral staircase, she gestured. “Right this way, please.”

Ishani trailed behind the old woman up the steps, getting a whiff of her perfume in the process. Some type of white floral. Old-fashioned for sure, but classy.

They emerged on the second floor, the first room of which looked like a storybook library, the shelves all stacked with real books. That perfume mingled with the musty odor of dust, leather, and yellowing pages. Ishani’s shoes clicked across wood panels as she followed the shopkeep into another room, this one filled with a variety of antique weapons on display.

“Don’t try to handle anything yourself. None of the guns are loaded and I doubt any of the blades are sharp enough to hurt you, but some of these are very old and they may break easily, even if they look durable.”

“Right,” Ishani murmured, looking around. A cursory glance didn’t reveal anything spectacular, but she’d need time to study them all and see if there was something worthwhile here.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn found a spot, just a meter or so from his hiding spot that he could see through a slim gap between product in the windows. Ne noted a second person come into view, could be the shop keeper, and then both disappear from his little segment of visible space. Just as he was about to turn his head, he saw two bodies pass over what he had thought was the back of a wooden display board, but he now realized was the staircase going up to the second floor.

The Sith is taking the shopkeeper upstairs! They might torture them...or something worse...to get the Holocron...

He grabbed Davian by the shirt collar. The boy looked completely lost for words as he grunted in annoyance. Brandyn seemed to have forgotten that they were supposed to be staying hidden from his minders. Across the pedestrian thoroughfare they clumsily ambled again, and Brandyn pointed up towards the veranda room. "The Sith went upstairs...lift me up!"

"Lift you up? You must be out of your damn mind, Brandyn," Davian said while taking a step back, "I'm not going to be responsible for you falling and hurting yourself...my father would lose his job...we would be homeless...I would not be able to finish school...and..."

Brandyn's hand covered the boys mouth as the last ramblings of his epic 'what if' meltdown continued. "If a Sith...is on Naboo...and it is getting some ancient...Sith knowledge...then we may not have long before we are all slaves to the whims of an evil Sith Master," Brandyn said, whisper-yelling through clenched teeth while at close proximity to his friends face, "now get over your panic attack...and lift me up so I can see what that Sith girl is doing."

"Wait...Sith...girl?" Davian said as he pulled Brandyn's hand away from his mouth, "oh Brandyn...you know how you get with girls...are you sure..."

"Lift. Me. UP!" Brandyn said as he loosened his belt a little to free his shoulders for climbing.

Davian's head tipped back and to the right in resignation, and he stooped, offering his hands with fingers interwoven as the first step on Brandyn's climb. Brandyn obliged by grabbing the post that held the veranda roof up, and then putting his foot into the hand-stirrup that Davian had created. For a moment he balanced precariously. "Lift with your knees, Davian," he grumbled as his hand failed to make purchase on the roof of the veranda. The taller boy obliged and gave Brandyn the extra inch of heigh he needed to grab a hold and relieve some of the strain from Davian's knees. Moment's later, Brandyn was standing on his friends shoulders and then looping a leg up and onto the roof.

The roofing material buckled slightly under Brandyn's weight, not that there was a lot of weight to go around. Davian muttered something about being careful, but Brandyn was already pulling himself up to glare through the window at what the Sith was doing to the shopkeeper. He was prepared for grotesque, vile, and torturous things...but seeing the Sith...an attractive blonde young woman in a dress shorter than should have been legal on Naboo? That he was not prepared for. Perhaps Davian had been right after all.

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani was, for a few moments at least, preoccupied with examining the weapons on display. Vibroblades hung on the walls, blasters from seemingly every era of galactic history sat behind glass, and more exotic weapons lay on shelves in the back—a single lightsaber among them. Her attention honed in on the Force Users’ weapon. Beautiful design. Was that electrum plating? Or copper?...

She abruptly became aware that she was being watched. Well, by eyes other than the elderly shopkeep, who remained in the room to make sure Ishani didn’t touch anything. The girl turned around. Hadn’t she heard the bell ring over the door at one point?

“Is someone else in here?” she asked out loud. No answer. The shopkeep raised an eyebrow.

Ishani grimaced. She still felt someone there, someone… outside? But they were on the second floor. Unless there was an exterior stair or something along those lines, a person watching her from outside would have to have climbed up to see her through a windo—

Her eyes widened as her gaze fell upon the window, or rather the face she could see on the other side. A boy in his late teens perhaps, with roguish dark hair and an almost swarthy complexion, was sitting on the veranda looking in on them.

The old woman took notice of the shift in her focus and turned to face the window as well. “Good heavens,” she muttered, more annoyed than shocked. “The neighborhood children are at it again.”

While Ishani watched, the shopkeep marched over to the window and threw it open. “Get down from there, you brats. You’ll break your neck climbing this thing, risking a fall! Go on, get!”

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn followed the Sith's eye line and saw the lightsaber hilt. For a moment he was transfixed in awe himself, not realizing that the Sith and shopkeeper were in the process of discovering his presence. The ornate piece of cylindrical metal was a prize indeed. And Brandyn had forgotten his purpose entirely.

He had to get that lightsaber. No matter how much it cost.

“Get down from there, you brats. You’ll break your neck climbing this thing, risking a fall! Go on, get!”

The start that this gave Brandyn brought his focus careening back into reality. Both women inside the shop were staring directly at him. The shock of this revelation caused him to push back from the window sill, tipping him off balance and tumbling down the roof of the verandah. The roof buckled and bent with each tumble. Brandyn's hands unsuccessfully grappled the side of the roof as he fell back first off its front, lower side and towards the ground...which...he never actually collided with.

A loud sound from Davian was heard as Brandyn landed atop the tall, lanky youth who had tried in vain to catch him. Brandyn rolled off his friend, and turned, wild eyed in shock at the moment that had transpired. "Sithspawn! Davian...she saw me...the Sith saw me! We are so dead!" He said in a panic, before reaching his hand out to help his beleagured friend up from the ground.

"I...can...barely breath, Brandyn...I can't run..."

"She only saw me! Blend in! Be safe my friend!"

With a quick pat on the shoulder, Brandyn took off into a run down the street, before ducking behind a stack of barrells to see if the Sith would exit the front door. Davian shrugged, and rubbed his chest with a wince. It was clear that he was ruing the moment he decided to follow Brandyn on his quest.

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

And just like that, the kid on the veranda disappeared. Given how innocuous the incident appeared, Ishani was content to ignore it. Her attention came back to the lightsaber.

“What’s the story behind this?”

“I found it in a box,” the shopkeep replied, offering no further elaboration on the weapon’s origins.

“Well, it’s a lovely specimen. How much would it cost?”

The shopkeep named a shockingly reasonable price. Ishani raised a hand to her cheek. She couldn’t believe her luck. Granted, she would’ve preferred a holocron, but this was still quite the prize.

“I’ll take it.”

A few minutes later, Ishani exited the antique shop, a carefully wrapped bundle clutched in her arms. She walked down the street, hugging her purchase close to her chest, passing by a stack of barrels and a discombobulated young man rubbing his chest as though in pain.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

He was peering between barrells when she exited the shop. His heart stopped as she walked past Davian, paying him no mind. A breath he didn't know he was holding escaped his lips. That was too close. Before he could finish any plans that were coming to mind, he found his heart skipping a beat again as the Sith started walking directly in his general direction. He held his breath, sunk down further into the ground as he watched her pass by.

"By Shiraya. That was close."

When she was out of view, Brandyn popped up and jumped into the middle of the street, almost knocking over a hover-cart loaded with flowers for the market. "AYE! Watch it!" Came the cry. Brandyn raised his hand in apologies, and looked back at the Sith's last direction to see her leg...long...leg...

Brandyn shook his head to clear any distractions, or at least try too.

She had rounded a corner. It was up to him. She might have the holocron, or even the lightsaber. She could kill so many with it. He had to observe and report. His pace was that of just above a walk, but not quite a run. It was almost a skip, as he bounded along the path towards the corner she had gone around, before slidding up against the wall, and peering around the corner to catch a glimpse of her, her back turned to him.

He took the moment to slip around the corner and with back to wall, find a bit of cover standing beside a wooden pillar.

All the while, his heart raced, mind flitting between dramatic scenarios and what he would do if he was called on to save the day...or sacrifice.

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Though it was just past noon, Ishani had found something of value, even if it wasn’t as wondrous as she would have liked. That sense of accomplishment took much of the edge off her attitude. Her pace became more akin to a leisurely stroll than a brisk walk as she made her way down the street.

Naboo was a pretty planet, largely untouched by the constant wars that had plagued the galaxy. At the very least, it certainly lived up to its description as a “garden world”; she welcomed all the wildlife and greenery after spending so much of her time on barren Korriban. Even better, so far she hadn’t had any allergic reactions to the native plants.

Maybe she could convince Arcturus to come here… although, wouldn’t that be a bit cliche? Taking your beau to the most romantic planet in the galaxy, a world of waterfalls, meadows, palaces, gondolas, pretty dresses with generous lace-lined necklines and skirts that barely came down to mid-thigh… hey. Wait a minute.

Was somebody following her?

The Force insisted it was so. She stopped, looking around. The street wasn’t extremely crowded, but it was bustling with a fair amount of activity, as to be expected of a marketplace. Stepping out of the walkway and towards a… bakery, judging by the smell, she cradled her package to her chest with one arm, the other taking hold of the gold sash tied around her waist. If someone wanted to grab her, the trailing bit of cloth from the enormous bow at the back was one loose end they might be able to use to their advantage. She didn’t remain standing outside, but ducked through the open door and was instantly enveloped by the heavenly scent of fresh bread. There—plenty of people around to witness if her pursuer tried anything stupid.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn peeked around the corner of the beam and noted the Sith was playing with the oddly large bow that flaired from the small of her back. He was still at a loss to understand even his homeworlds tendency towards over the top headresses and gowns, or even hairstyles. Perhaps the Sith's style was indicative of the world she came from. Perhaps it was a Sith custom?

Symbolic of how they are tied up in darkness, he though, ruefully.

Pulling back from the peek, he paused for a time considering his next actions. For all he knew in this moment, the Sith was walking back towards him, so he could retreat, but could not stay. What if she had left where she was and moved on to some other side street or alley, staying put was foolish. What if he began to approach, only to find her staring right at him. Indecision filled the moment.

No, Brandyn. Don't be that person. Take action. Be like Briana.

Stepping out into the thoroughfare, Brandyn made an attempt to lock on to the Sith, but she was no where to be seen. Panic again filled his heart, skipping its beat and pulling breath from his lungs. He had failed Naboo. Anyone that died because of this, it was his fault.

He ran forward, stopping around the place where she had been and turned about casting an eye in every direction. There was a bakery, a florist, there was a cobbler's shop and even a few houses, but there was no Sith. Shoulders slumped in resignation to his failure, just as the alluring aroma of fresh baker toofa hit his senses.

"Food to quiet the soul," he muttered before turning towards the bakery with intent...and he froze in place.

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“You!”

Ishani marched back out of the bakery, grateful that her shoes gave her some extra height as she jabbed her finger at the boy—whom she now recognized as the same kid who had been watching through the antique shop window.

“Listen here, you little creep. I don’t take kindly to being followed around by strangers. Whoever you are, whoever you’re working for, you’re doing a terrible job of keeping track of me!”

She could think of no other reason why this person would be following her, unless he had been hired by a Sith overseer. Or perhaps he was a Sith overseer, in which case yelling at him probably wasn’t a good idea. But what else was she supposed to do, just keep letting this weirdo stalk her?

“Leave me alone—or at least keep back several feet! I need some space!”

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Eyes widdened, and Brandyn took a step backwards to get some distance from the advancing Sith. He glanced about looking for something, anything, that might be used for a weapon or some sort of a shield. He noted a long stick of bread, but quickly discounted it. There was the lid of a cane basket that could be used for a shield, but no...no...

His attentioned was brought back as she started yelling though. His arms crossed over his face and he winced as he prepared for some Force lightning attack, or some Sith sorcery. "Don't hurt me! Please, I beg you..."

If only Briana could see him now. Brandyn Sal-Soren, hero at large.

Despite the woman speaking, he really wasn't picking up on her words. Being called a creep flew right over his head, but then when no vicious attack came, his defences lowered and ears began to tune into what she was saying.

It had become very evident that everyone on the street, as few as there was, were now staring at them. Some datapads were out, their built in cameras being pointed towards them. Surely, a Sith would not dare to act out their evil in such a public forum? Surely!?

“Leave me alone—or at least keep back several feet! I need some space!”

That...that was not what he expected a Sith to say. It was not really your typical threat. Brandyn now looked confused, but obeyed her request, stepping back a few feet before bumping his back into the duracreet wall of the building on the opposite side of the street. "I wasn't in your space! You got in MY space!"

| Ishani Dinn | FYI, Briana Sal-Soren |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"Don't hurt me! Please, I beg you..."

Annoyed as she was, his plea didn’t quite register until she had finished ranting. What, was he a wuss who panicked at the first sign of backbone from the person he was stalking?

People were staring, some filming the scene unfolding. Returning inside the shop, she picked up a breadstick wrapped in waxy paper from a nearby basket and bought it, hoping the break would cause the crowd to disperse.

Her stalker backed away at that point, moving all the way to the opposite side of the street. She finished paying for the bread and stepped outside. Though she tried to hide it, she was visibly shaken, her hands trembling slightly as she glared at him from across the road.

She had grown accustomed to many unpleasant things during her training, but she had never gotten used to the idea of being watched, followed, and otherwise spied upon by agents of the Sith. It was especially unpleasant knowing that her quarters at the academy were “bugged”, and she couldn’t do or say anything within those walls without being seen or overheard. No wonder she had taken to sleeping elsewhere, either aboard her ship, or in Arc’s ship, or in Arc’s room, which was at least given more privacy thanks to his being the apprentice of Darth Maliphant himself…

But was this boy actually a spy? He didn’t seem anywhere near cunning enough to be an agent of the Sith. In fact, he was downright fumbling. They wouldn’t send someone this idiotic after her, would they?

"I wasn't in your space! You got in MY space!"

“Oh, when did that happen?” she retorted. “When I was minding my own business inside that antique shop, and you literally climbed on top of the veranda to stare at me through the window? That’s right, I saw you. Or how about when you followed me all the way down the street?”

She crossed the road, eying him all the while—then, on impulse, she closed the distance between them and smacked him upside the head with the still-wrapped breadstick. He deserved it, after all, and it wasn’t as if she had hit him with the lightsaber, which she carried in her other hand.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

You know. She had a point. Come to think of it, there might have been other reasons for why she would have wanted to find a Sith holocron. Maybe to destroy it? Maybe to hide it from the Sith? Doubt began to fill Brandyn's mind as a familiar feeling of shame began to wash over him. He had assumed. He knew what his dad said about assumptions. Maybe it was proving to be true here as well.

But then...she started marching towards him with intent and purpose in her eyes. She was going to do something. Do something to him! And she had a lightsaber in her hand!

This could end very poorly for Brandyn. Very poorly indeed.

Before he could decide what was best, he was whacked in the side of the head with some bread that was harder than it looks. "OUCH...that stuff is harder than it looks!" He said, loudly in protest at his treatment. Without thinking, Brandyn reached to the side for the cane basket and grabbed the lid. With a wild swing aimed at the hand and the bread, Brandyn stepped forward on the counter attack.

"Stay away from you Sith wench!"

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

“Oh, a wench am I? Well, you’re a cad!”

She didn’t really react to the moniker of Sith, though it probably should have concerned her more. She assumed he just meant it as an added insult.

“Can’t even handle a breadstick? You’re not worth my time.”

With that, she unwrapped the bread and took a bite out of it, chewing haughtily as she breezed past him—or tried to.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"A cad!" He exclaimed with incredulity.

With the haughtiness and pride wounding nature of her accusation, Brandyn pushed off the wall and marched across the road again, pulling one of the long breadsticks off the display outside. The crusty nature of the item felt like a suitable retribution.

"Hey! You have to pay for that!"

Brandyn frowned in shock.

"The bread...you have to pay for it."

Brandyn rushed inside the bakery and fumbled in his pocket for the credit charger that he had been given that morning. He tapped it on the device on the counter and was back out the door in a moment. He ignored the words of the baker as he mumbled something about impertinent rich kids, and the Eternal Flame perhaps having a point.

The Sith was a little further down the road, so Brandyn ran to catch up, before winding up and hitting the woman on the back of the head probably just a little too hard.

He realized the indiscretion of pushing it a little too far, and jumped back, basket lid at the ready in one hand, and brandishing the bread in the other. He wanted to offer some retort about how that felt, or what do you think about being hit with bread now, but something from the reaction of the onlookers said that he deserved whatever happened next.

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani felt the bread collide with the back of her head. It wasn’t that hard—her reaction had more to do with the shock of the impact, and the audacity of the boy who hit her.

She whirled around, wanting nothing less than to activate the lightsaber and toast his breadstick for him… but that would be insane. They were in the middle of a public street.

Her breadstick, with its bite marks on one end, was still mostly intact, but she didn’t want to waste perfectly good food on him. So instead she reached out with the Force, seeking to knock his legs out from under him as if he had been tripped by an invisible foot.

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn was not unaccustomed to falling on posterior. So when the invisible leg sweep came out of nowhere he showed himself to be quite adept at falling over. He hit with a thud, and wheeled about looking for his heretofore unseen assailant. The crowd was abuzz, some laughing at Brandyn's misfortunate.

As he bounced back up to his feet, he spun about in a crouch before coming back to look upon the Sith woman. "You...you and your Sith trickery..."

Staying in the crouch, he held his breadstick out while pulling the basket lid shield up to protect the lower portion of his face and head. With a scuffle like this in a public forum, the authorities would be along soon enough. Not to mention there was a gaggle of bodyguards looking for him that he had completely forgotten about. Either way, stalling her was the name of the game.

"...you won't get away with it, Sith."

| Ishani Dinn |​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

She nibbled on the bread, watching him clamber back to his feet. He took that fall like a champ, she had to admit.

But despite the goofiness of the altercation, she finally detected the note of genuine disdain in his voice, the way he said Sith as if it were a curse. It no longer sounded like a mere insult, but a slur.

“What makes you think I’m a Sith?” she shot back. Was it really that obvious? Damn. She thought she was good at blending in… “And what does that make you? A Jedi? You’re a fumbling idiot excuse for one.”

If this was his idea of a conversion attempt, it… well, it wasn’t as sorry as Dagon Kaze’s fumbled seduction, but it wasn’t much better either. Just what was this kid’s deal, anyhow?

Brandyn Sal-Soren

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

"You were trying to find a Sith holocron," he spat back, but even as the words came out of his mouth he was again filled with the same self-doubt that had surfaced moments earlier.

"Only...only...a Sith would be looking for one of those," he said, sounding less assured.

When she accused him of being a Jedi, Brandyn's chest swelled just a little, but then his face contorted with her additional words. That was just mean.

"I am going to be a Jedi...best ever..."

"Ah...Brandyn," came the nervous voice from nowhere, Davian had returned, "what're you doing?"

Brandyn looked over to Davian to reprimand him for interrupting, but instead stood in surprise at how many people had gathered to witness what looked to them surely like some crazed young boy trying to attack a young woman with bread. How had it gotten this far? His mother was going to lecture him for hours, and Briana would never not hold this over his head as a trump card.

Standing up, shoulders slumped, and hands at his side. All of a sudden, being on the end of a Sith lightsaber didn't sound like a bad option.

| Ishani Dinn | Hisashi |​