In Darkness

[The Amalgam]

Arrived on Nar Shaddaa in: Corrupted Flesh (X-70B Phantom Class Yacht)

Wearing: Resistance Epidermis

Armed with: Skin Shears (Purple Double Bladed Lightsaber)

First Degree Burn (High Capacity Laser Pistol)

Novastreak (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/126580-ai-331m-novastreak-heavy-weapon-system/)



She hated Nar Shaddaa. She hated the smell, the crowds, the life. It was irritating. Completely and totally irritating.

Nar Shaddaa reminded her of The Underworks on Coruscant. She'd grown up in the aftermath of The Gulag Plague. When she had been still a mere thief and murderer at fifty, having only recently taught herself to read and write at that troubled time in her life, she had been shocked at reading a history of the Underworks, about how parts of it actually used to be fun.

The Underworks she had endured had just spent decades dragging itself out of the horrors of the plague. People who had thought the Underworks during the Clone Wars had been terrible would have been appalled at the conditions after the Plague. It had been years before she had taught herself to read and write, so focused on stealing and killing to stay alive that she simply hadn't had the time.

Over three centuries had passed since those days, and The Amalgam had long since ceased being a weakling. The Dark Side had provided her power and purpose, and she was zealously devoted to advancing its cause. But having to advance it on Nar Shaddaa brought back bad memories.

Nar Shaddaa was basically the underworks, but all the time.. She acknowledged the cleverness of coming to hide here, as the mass of life made it difficult to sense a Jedi, to say nothing of the fact that many other Force Users came here these days, and were far more open about it.

But still...it was a predictable tactic, especially for a Jedi. The Amalgam hated it when they ran to Nar Shaddaa to escape her.

If it had been anyone else, even the Shi'ido's normally busybody nature might have just decided to cut him loose, let him off the hook, rather than endure yet another hunt through narrow alleys, air so choked with smog and pollutants she'd had to bring a breath mask and everybody ready to stick you the moment you let your guard down. She loved a challenge, but on Nar Shaddaa, challenges had a habit of becoming chores.

But this was no ordinary Jedi that The Amalgam sought. This Was Hadrian Amox, a member of The Marksmen.

One of Ursula's friends.

That was why the stunning, curvy shapeshifter who had spent years honing her appearance to seduce the widest number of humans and near humans possible, was patiently taking her time to leave the vessel after she had landed, having a glass of iced tea from her fridge in the mess area, which was colored obsidian, the red floral pattern from her bedroom present on the counters and cabinets as well. The black and red scheme went everywhere on the ship with the exception of engineering.

As she sipped her tea, she stared at a photo of Uri Udinia, better known as Maple Harte, in her hand. Just staring into her green eyes stoked fury in the 'currently' beautiful shapeshifter's otherwise malevolently empty purple ones. She would take pleasure, killing another of Udinia's friends.

She finished her tea, crushing the photo, and rose to retrieve her weapons, already wearing her Resistance Epidermis, a skin tight combat suit that bore an off white, almost fleshy color.

She hooked her lightsaber to her belt, slipped her white and gold laser pistol into her holster, the only weapon she trusted as much as her lightsaber, and took a case fitted in reflec containing her newest weapon--a Novastreak Rifle from Aurora Industries, and headed off to began her hunt of Hadrian, who'd been betrayed by a man he had saved with the Force for a pittance of credits. She'd drained the man of life after she paid him for his info, taking her credits back.

Hadrian was believed to be hiding in an apartment complex three kilometers west of the docking pad she had landed her sterile white vessel with a red trim on. She'd chosen some place far, where the taint of the vessel could not easily be picked out and she could have enough lead time to approach, cloaking her nature in the Force and walking down hatefully familiar dank and smelly streets.

[member="Kel Novastar"]

 

[Kel Novastar]

Kel had once vowed to never return to Nar Shadaa after abandoning his job with the Hutts and effectively placing a permanent bounty for his head. It wasn't healthy for him to stay on the world long, he told himself, but his abilities were far beyond what they once were when he was younger. The big bad Hutt-boogeyman had once scared him enough to keep his loyalty sealed, but not anymore. Kel decided to once more walk upon the Hutt worlds with the intention of retrieving what was once his.

His safehouse still existed on the world, and within it a safe with enough credit chips to keep him fed while he searched for ancient force artifacts throughout the galaxy. It was relatively straight forwards; get in, get out, and don't let your presence be known.

A discreet landing pad and a handful of credits had kept his arrival secret from the authorities managing the docks. Kel kept his hood over his head as he through the streets, occasionally cutting through the dark alleyways for good measure. It appeared simple enough, and with good reason. It was located at an apartment complex clear on the other side of his old territory. Occasionally information slipped across rival turf, but it was an oddly quiet evening. "Even for Nar Shadaa's standards.." He muttered beneath his breath.

Arriving at the apartment complex, Kel would quickly discover that it wouldn't be as quick and clean of an operation as he thought. A kiosk was quick to inform him that his key card had been revoked, and his room rented out to someone else a few months back. It was a setback, but luckily he had the safe installed within a wall before he left. It was all a matter of getting in quickly and making it as clean as possible, if that was possible.

A chill sent through his body preceded a warning from the force. He was't quite sure if the dark still spoke to him, but minor premonitions of danger were helpful on the rare occasions they happened. Using the force to sense the individuals within the building would give him an answer to the bad feeling he was getting. "I see.." There was a force-user in the building from what he could sense out. "...That changes things." And they were close to his room, if not one and the same. All that remained was to head into the building and find out.

[member=The Amalgam]

 

[The Amalgam]

The Amalgam's frown had only deepened the longer she traveled through the streets, her prescence in the Force cloaked.

Amox was the heavy hitter of The Marksmen. Their heavy weapons specialist. Also possessed superhuman strength and stamina. His accuracy came from his muscles and their ability to absorb severe amounts of recoil. His accuracy with machine guns was considered second to none in The Marksmen. He designed and built his own rockets and grenade launchers.

In short...he was a badass.

But that wouldn't save him from the curvy creature with the lightsaber and the bloodthirst.

Or this Novastreak rifle, which she had configured for Sniping. She'd take him out from afar if possible...no sense in going up against the giant if you didn't have to. The Dark Side's best, most delicious victories came from deception and patience and stealth. She would honor The Bogan in her way, let other Dark Adepts honor it in their own.

The skyscrapers of Nar Shaddaa's smog clouded streets loomed hatefully over her just as Coruscant's had. She remembered when she had lived on the street, in a hovel, defending herself with just a knife from every manner of being looking to hurt her. Her home had basically been a large cardboard box at one point. Her only clothing had been rags. She had never actually had a conversation with anyone in the works. It was just thieving, killing, and hiding in the shadows. She had been alone. Purposeless.

Nar Shaddaa pressed all the wrong buttons for the Amalgam as she made her way through the filthy, degenerate metropolis, at last reaching the apartment complex, no one having stopped her to search her case. No one on this world ever got curious unless a crime boss told them to. She longed to see the day when the Sith would dominate this world. She would lead the charge to kill everyone in its deepest, darkest bowels personally.

It was an open, rectangular court with a fountain at the center. The roofs were slanted, with high capacity solar panels mounted on them. She went to the Manager's office, spotted a Hutt on a large base for his fat, putrid body to rest on, fanned by Twi'lek dancers, both blue skinned and wearing very little.

The beautiful shapeshifter paused, put her case down, her presence still cloaked, and addressed him. The slug stopped eating those weird little freaky black worms they liked to engorge on sometimes when he saw the Lightsaber on her belt.

"Jedi?"

The Amalgam allowed the Darkness to enter her eyes, turning them a sulphur yellow.

The Hutt, stared, stuffed worms into his mouth after a moment's pause.

"Oh." The Hutt spoke. "He's not here. He'll be back in an hour. Can you kill him off the property? I just got this place renovated."

Not willing to just take him at his word, The Amalgam briefly dropped her Queytek Meditation to sense the Area...she sensed faint traces of him. Strong and recent. But there was another signature she felt...her very dark presence in the Force would no doubt gain the attention of any Force user in close vicinity, but if they knew what was good for them they would not interfere with the affairs of the Dark Side.

As it turned out, she sensed only one Force User, but it didn't feel like Hadrian...it felt...confused...divided, pulled between strength and weakness.

"What floor?" she asked in a cold, feminine rasp.

"Second. Room seven." the Hutt answered, stuffing more worms in his mouth. "Had a bad feelin' 'bout that big guy..."

The Amalgam pulled a out a roll of hundred credit bills, tossing them at his metaphorical feet.

"What's that for?" The Hutt asked.

"The mess..." the Shi'ido answered, giving a dark smirk.

"Feth it all..." the Hutt grumbled, looking at his dancers.

"Clear out, ladies...its gonna get bloody..."

She cloaked her presence in the Force once more and walked out of the office, leaving her case containing her rifle behind a pillar on the lower floor and took her staff off her belt as she headed up the steps. She saw who she suspected was who she had sensed in close proximity, walking to the same room she was heading to. She dropped her cloak again, letting her nauseatingly corrupt presence spill out into the Force, and stared at [member="Kel Novastar"] with a dark smile. She could not sense Hadrian. But that meant nothing. He could be close by, but she had to take the risk looking for him: Hadrian was no joke.

Meanwhile, what was this man doing here? Did Hadrian have other enemies? Of course he did. They all did, but he didn't look properly equipped, and seemed far more secretive. Hadrian knew his doom was coming: when a Jedi on the run knows that at least a good many of them flee here like cowards.

This boy didn't look like a threat. But he did look a bit too curious about something for his own good. Still, in a rare moment of professional courtesy, The Amalgam decided to warn him he was biting off more than he could chew.

Careful, boy. she called out to him telepathically. I'm after a rather nasty one here. If you're after a nest egg or something, you might have to wait...

Meanwhile, The Amalgam's instincts were very much correct. Hadrian was here, having snuck into his apartment after receiving a precognition of his pursuer the day before. He was a large man with a weathered, heavily textured and scarred face, hair light brown and cut about an inch or two from his skull. His muscles bulged as he cloaked his presence in the Force as the Amalgam and Kel made their way close to his room. He was in the black armorweave jumpsuit, a cane saber slung over his back...

And two automatic shotguns in his hands, pointed right at the door.