Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private From the frying pan to the forge

The low hum of idling electronics in the Aegis' cockpit made for a useful meditation aid. Or, it had once served such a purpose. Now, every whistle, beep, click and Sith-damned trill broke Kyrilu from his attempts to settle his turbulent, broiling thought-cage. It had been a lean few weeks for Ky recently, the only jobs coming in either piddly sabotage work from two-bit crime lords or pain in the arse aristocrats with a grudge against their rival house. Things had gotten so bad he had started trawling the holonet for leisure, or pleasure, resort holidays in the inner rim just to kill the boredom. He was only lying to himself, however, he'd never have went through with it; by the end of day one he'd have been casing the resort's headquarters for a juicy packet of corporate secrets to find a buyer for just to keep things interesting.

So it was he found himself sat in the pilot's throne of the Aegis, feet up on the console and a lho-stick wedged between his teeth, pretending that he could still find the inner peace Master Valens had always parroted at him. Done with the charade of meditating, he held the lho-stick in his pursed lips as he re-tied the grey cloth about his head over his "eyes". It was an affect he couldn't shake, even now that he had been on his own for almost a decade, and even when in the privacy of his own ship with only the whirr of machines for company, but he knew the unsettling effect his vestigial eye sockets had on others, and at the jedi temple it had been part of his waking routine to secure the cloth over his sockets. The imminent meet with his new prospective client was only via the holoprojector whirring faintly on the console, so the cloth was really just a formality, but...old habits.

Before he had time to contemplate backing out of the meeting again, the holoprojector trilled, then buzzed like a dozen gnatflies trapped in a glass bottle as it powered up at his touch.

"Good morning, noon or night, mamzel! Nice of you to finally show!"


Working for Aurora had opened her eyes to a number of possibilities with the power she could achieve. Her master's company was vast. It's resources even more so. Power not through the battlefield, but through wealth and shrewd business. It also lent her the ability to just hire our when she didn't want to bother retrieving her own property if she could help it.

Which meant appearances. The Hologram came to life, Alina calmly sitting at a desk. Her eyes watching the flickering image of her latest hired help. The job was more.. Clandestine than she'd normally admit. Retrieval of her families artifacts needed to be discreet. And more importantly away from Aurora. The ability to change her appearance certainly helped that.

"Good morning, noon or night, mamzel! Nice of you to finally show!"

A light smirk played across her lips as she simply dipped her head.

"Apologies if I've kept you waiting. You can bill me the time if you so desire. Have you read through the dossier?"
"Apologies if I've kept you waiting. You can bill me the time if you so desire. Have you read through the dossier?"

Kyrilu smiled, the scarred flesh at the base of his jaw and neck pulled taut in what he had been told was an unpleasant, aggravating example of a charlatan's grin. Seeing the world through the force as he did rather than through the limiting medium of vision, he had taken others' word on that score, but, being honest with himself, he didn't mind that characterisation. The hologram was relayed to the client in a hazy, generally indistinct approximation of his face - clients were disinclined to trust him to carry out whatever underhanded business they required once they knew he was a Miralukan and, by extension, wielded power over the Force - but the client would see the grin. The smile, like his opening comment, was partly designed to unsettle prospective clients by acting not as they would expect an agent-for-hire such as himself to do so. Clients who wanted a discussion first rather than simply hire him outright tended to be nervous, unsubtle wrecks or overly-fastidious, micro-managing pains in Ky's rear end. Adding some levity to the situation usually elicited poor reactions from those clients Ky was long past having to put up with, given the reputation he had spent years carving out for himself.

This client was...different, however. He had been approached by a third party who opened discussions regarding a potential well-paying assignment with a private client that required an item procured from its owner in discrete fashion. The details had been slim to begin with, and after flicking through the dossier sent over two days ago his interest had certainly been piqued. It wasn't entirely out of his wheelhouse, but usually it was corporate espionage, a simple case of removing certain information from one location and transferring it to another, that called for this use of his many talents. This job smacked of the relic hunters' lot, a profession he tried to stay away from as much as possible so he didn't have to deal with collectors madder than a gundark tea party or spend weeks chasing down leads to some dusty piece of archaic fountain pen.

However, with that in mind, the neutral third party had not only vouched for the client but made promises that they were "the real deal" so to speak. Judging by the client's initial reaction, a smirk and a nod of the head, to his greeting, he could well believe that.

Straight to business. My kind of client, he thought as he took a drag on his lho-stick, watching the smoke drift lazily about the cockpit while he waited just longer than appropriate to reply.

"That I have, that I have. A bit light on the specifics, actually, but I can work with those parameters. I hope our mutual friend made you aware of my, well-earned, reputation for discretion, in case you had any qualms about our fledgling business arrangement," Ky said, stubbing out his lho-stick. "Are there any addendums to the dossier you'd like to add?"


"No addendums, but I will provide more detail now that you've agreed. The.. Man holding this, if they could even be called a man, is of course free to kill. Anyone there is free to kill. Slavers have no place in this galaxy, after all. The more you kill, the more I'm willing to pay. Of course, you don't have to kill anyone. The object in question resides in the basement. I'll send you the tracking number." She reached out for a datapad, casually tapping away to send just that. Only to pause and raise a brow.

"If of course, you have such equipment?"

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
This was definitely not the usual sort of contract, in any sense of the word now. The client would know, surely, of his main line of work. That didn't usually extend to a per head bonus, and the casual, offhand way in which it was spoken set of alarum bells ringing in Ky's head. This was no vengeful patron wishing dead someone who had stolen from her. Or was it? He admitted to himself he had no idea what to make of this aloof woman, and for once wished the meeting could be face to face so he could discern her true nature. Two minutes alone and Ky would be able to read her well enough to guess what she liked for breakfast in the morning, but if that answer was "the bodies of dead slavers" then what must she think of Ky, a glorified thief-for-hire?

"The great tragedy of sentient life is that we all have such equipment, to make corpses of others," Ky said, lighting another lho-stick. "Rest assured nothing will stop me from acquiring your goods, especially not a few slavers. I'll make sure to do a head count before I leave, and bill you accordingly," he laughed, trying to diffuse the building tension he felt.

"Now, unless there was anything else...?"


Great tragedy?

Alina raised a brow, but spoke nothing on it. Pacifist in this line of work were non existent, so it had to be a belief thing. Right? .. She hummed in thought, musing over what it could mean for only a moment longer. His laugh pulled her out of those thoughts, and her own softly joined in. "I've nothing else for you, no. When the job is done contact me. I look forward to hearing your report."

She flashed a thin smile before clicking off the device and promptly fell back in her seat. More work to be done.

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
Several days later, aboard the Aegis

Travelling at lightspeed was often a stressful time for Kyrilu. Being Miralukan, his view of the galaxy around him was not like most other creatures', something only another force user could come close to understanding. He would never understand the nuances of colour theory that most races took for granted, but so too would they never understand him were he to try explaining the subtle differences in vibrations he felt from the galaxy and every living thing inside of it. His perception was so vastly different that he found it difficult to focus on his surroundings when his own inner turmoil was screaming so much louder. To quiet the noise, he preferred to keep himself busy, never give himself any time for personal reflection. Lightspeed travel forced the introspection he so badly avoided.

Kyrilu's hands were bloody, more so than any time in his past. The halls of the compound he had recovered the client's shipment from would not leave his thoughts. The operation had been going so smoothly, right up until the metaphorical shit hit the literal fan. Then everything had become a blur of panicked shouts, the whine of blasters and the frenzied melee of death served face-to-face. The combat had been so visceral, so intense, so...satisfying. Never before had he felt so present, so lost in the symphony of battle and living in the moment that his all his fears and anxious thoughts were burned away by the heat of pure chaos.

He shook himself from his introspection as he came out of lightspeed in the system designated as the meeting location by the client. He'd needed a hasty retreat from the compound and the world, had merely sent a brief acknowledgement of his completion of the mission and then jumped to lightspeed as soon as the reply came through without asking for more details than the overall system he needed to jump to. Now, he fired off another quick message along the secure channel of his arrival in-system.

Where and when?


Where and when?

Here and now.

The response was instant. A ship, previously cloaked, materialized close by. With the message came a request to dock. The instructions of how. To get the Forge in her own ship for transport, Alina figured a meeting in space would be best. Asides, easier to dispose of a body if needed. She stood by the door to her own docking port, arms crossed as she awaited the joining of the two ships with an ever patient smile.

If he truly did bring the Forge, all the better.

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
The sudden appearance of the ship, too close for comfort, set alarm bells ringing for Kyrilu, rousing him from his thoughts. After the chaos of his escape from the slavers' compound and subsequent reflections on his own feelings, he had entirely forgotten his own professional standards. This situation did not bode well for him. If the client had the resources and the skill to operate a ship with such efficient stealth capabilities to take him entirely unawares, who exactly was she? Not someone to take lightly, was the only answer he could come up with.

Kyrilu sent a brief reply, acknowledging the request to dock and asking for a small window of time to prepare the shipment for transfer. He now made his way directly to his quarters where he fitted his mask into place, changed into a bright, stylishly-cut tunic, jacket, breeches and heavy boots fit to impress any high-ranking aristocrat but that also came with small plates of plasteel sewn into the fabric at strategic locations. He warmed up some keratin oil and ran his fingers through his hair to wash out the stink of travel, then buckled a thick belt on, holstered a heavy blaster pistol and slid a vibrosword into the hanging scabbard. Lastly, he hefted his lightsaber in one heavy hand held out in front of him, weighed down as it now was with all the souls it had recently ended. Kyrilu hoped the meeting would not require the weapon, but he slid it into its underarm sheath hidden under his jacket. He had clearly not given this client the consideration she deserved, and taking care to appear like he, too, should be taken seriously, was only the most obvious of ways he would not continue that trend.

As he changed he had quick-typed specific instructions on a datapad to the mindless lifter droid in his cargo hold. Kyrilu now returned to the cockpit to complete the docking protocols between the two ships, leaving his seat once the autopilot controls took over and making his way to the docking portal. A series of metal shipment crates sat ominously, already waiting for him, on repulsor beds that hovered a few feet off the deck. He straightened his jacket, ran his hand through his groomed hair - a nervous tic he never could quite shake - and pressed the green-backlit button on the wall. The portal hissed open, venting pressurised gases into the docking port's umbilical tunnel.

The few steps it took to cross that threshold felt heavy, akin to walking through sludge, as Kyrilu attempted to probe the area ahead with his senses. Ambush? Double-cross? Or honest dealings? That remained to be seen, but whatever came next he could rest easy knowing he had taken a number of precautions to ensure he was in control of the situation. The tunnel's opposite portal slid open. Kyrilu smiled as he stepped through, the repulsor beds following him in.

"You have impeccable timing, mamzel."


"That's one way to word it." Alina kept more to the darkness of her own shuttle. She could smell it now. The sweet scent of Anima. So the boy was a force user, was he? A coy grin spread across her lips as she stepped more into the light. Pale skin, glowing eyes. Pointed teeth. She could practically smell his wariness on everything that was happening.

As he should.

"I heard some reports of quite the mess. Did you decide you wanted the extra pay after all?"

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
"I heard some reports of quite the mess. Did you decide you wanted the extra pay after all?"

Kyrilu thought himself sufficiently prepared for whatever he would encounter, but the mysterious client surprised him once again. Using his force sight to discern her features, the measure of calm he had managed to attain was quickly disrupted upon forming a picture in his mind of the client's appearance. Her calm demeanour and seemingly casual attitude to the slaughter he had unleashed upon the slavers put him immediately on edge.

"News travels fast, I see," he said, feigning indifference, "but I am no assassin. I did only what was necessary to retrieve your shipment and escape with my life," he lied.

He stopped several yards away from the client, trying to probe the rest of the cargo hold for any further surprises. The repulsor beds loaded with the shipment crates filed in behind him, floating noiselessly into the middle of the hold. He gestured to the crates.

"Your cargo, as agreed. Feel free to inspect the cargo if you please, however I will require proof of transfer of funds before we conclude our meeting."


"Oh, the funds have already been transferred." Alina's gaze shifted to the cargo as they floated over. Without hesitation she stepped to the box and.. Lifted it. Right from the ground. With just one hand. A display of inhuman strength. Worse, though. She frowned. The woman's gaze shifted back to Ky, the pair of glowing eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Credits for your kill, of course. Now where is my Forge?"

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
Kyrilu swore as she effortlessly lifted one of the crates. Called on his bluff, he used the force energy he had been subtly building within himself since the portal opened to infuse his entire musculature. He looked away guiltily, opening his mouth as if about to explain himself. He felt a brief moment of guilt root himself to the deck.

"This isn't the way I normally conduct business, but..."

Then he struck.

Leaping from his stationary position, he executed an Ataru corkscrew even Master Valens would have been proud of, towards the client, simultaneously using the force to pull his lightsaber from its sheath into his right hand and the vibrosword at his hip into his left hand. He felt a wave of ecstasy envelop him, overwhelming the guilt of betraying his client, as he pictured his lightsaber slicing through the client's neck and her life being snuffed out as a result of his prodigious talents. He was already planning his escape route back to his own ship as he arced towards his victim, lightsaber whirring lethally.


"That so?"

Even as the man lept at her she didn't lower thr box. Rather. She turned. Swung the box like an impromptu weapon to catch him middair. He had the Force. He was using Ataru. She could recognize it enough, even as limited as she was in feeling the Force.

The box itself wasn't going to be a threat to him, if he had a lightsaber anyway. But it should slow him enough. No sooner did she thrown the box under the assumption he'd cut through it than her fist came between the speratated parts like a bullet for his stomach.

"I don't mind it rough."

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
Kyrilu noted the crate thrown at him with mild annoyance, mild excitement at fighting a capable opponent. He sliced down with his lightsaber, turning his twisting motion into a rotation as he came barrelling through the two halves foot first as he arced down. He used her outstretched. striking arm as a springboard with his foot to flip over the top of the client's head. He struck with his off-hand vibrosword as he did so but her reflexes were far too fast for him and she slid out of the way. Ky landed several metres away, on the wrong side of the hangar to his ship's umbilical portal.

The Ataru corkscrew had him breathing hard, but that was the risk you took when using Ataru as the opening gambit. He paused, assuming a defensive stance as he attempted to focus his force sight on the client with intent now. What he saw unnerved him more than he already was.

"You're not what I expected," he breathed, stepping softly to the left, probing the cargo hold for anything to use as a distraction. "Nice to know I can still be surprised."


"I'm not what a lot of people expect." She chuckled, turning to face the Miraluka with the faintest of a smile still on her lips. She wasn't out of breath. Well, she didn't need to breath so out of breath never applied. Alina kept her distance, though. Watching. Waiting. Curiosity stayed her hand from the offence.

"Blue. Jedi, once? Certainly not any more. Not with all the people you killed for trifles and artifacts in search of a pay day."

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
"Blue. Jedi, once? Certainly not any more. Not with all the people you killed for trifles and artifacts in search of a pay day."

Kyrilu glanced down at his lightsaber, the blue blade humming softly. She was toying with him, goading him into attacking her again by playing with his emotions. He knew this. But was she right? He had left the Jedi behind almost a decade ago and never looked back, but he still thought of himself as a morally good man, had still tried to avoid killing others whenever possible. Yet here he stood, having butchered his way out of a compound, attacking a client with the intent to kill just to not have to face up to his actions and flee to another part of the galaxy that hadn't heard of him. History doesn't repeat itself, Master Valens, but it does rhyme.

"Once, maybe. How astute of you," he laughed, trying to get under her skin and buy himself some time, "what gave it away?"


"Ataru. A blue lightsaber. There are other groups around that wield lightsaber these days, but you stink of regret. Only a former Jedi would smell like this after such a brutal slaughter."

She kept where she was. No hint of movement save for her lips as she spoke. Watching. Waiting. He was stuck in her ship after all.

"It's so much easier to kill a problem, isn't it?"

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked
Kyrilu circled another few paces, stopping once he identified a small generator behind a wall panel with his force sight. He was only half listening, but bit back a snarl of frustration at the mention of brutal slaughter. He had refused to acknowledge his own feelings on killing ever since he had murdered his old master, constantly running from his problems while using those jedi techniques for suppressing one's emotions. Clearly, they had worked well in his case.

"Only a sith would espouse such ideas."

Ky couldn't hold back a grunt of effort as he let forth a bolt of emerald force lightning from his off hand, sparking up the length of his vibrosword and unleashing from the tip with a crackling boom of energy, hurtling towards the client.

Without missing a beat, he sprung through the air towards the portal that would facilitate his escape. At the beginning of his arc he threw his arm out towards the hidden generator, his lightsaber following suit as it spun away. The blade careened effortlessly through the machinery of the generator, sparks sent flying and a dangerous thrumming preceding a loud explosion. At the end of his arc, before his feet hit the ground, his lightsaber whipped back into his open palm. Feet slapped onto the deck and he turned to run for the portal.

"Don't take it personally, I don't play nice with anyone," he shot over his shoulder.


"Unlike you, I don't deny what I am."

Alina didn't move much from where she was. The most she did was slam her foot down to pull up one of the grates to catch the bolt of lightning sent her way before battering it to the side as the impact turned it from a shield to a weapon. A curious brow rose as she looked to the smoking piece of metal.

That was no Jedi lightning.

She didn't give chase, even as part of her ship started to explode. instead, she just grinned. Watching him run.

"I already told you I don't mind playing rough."

Kyrilu Storm-wracked Kyrilu Storm-wracked

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