Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

New places n old faces

Nar Shaddaa.

Home to the most low-down criminal scum you could find. There was something for everybody, from drugs, weapons, medicine, and slaves. . However the most important element of all was information. Maleus was on the hunt for the location of a particular Sith Pure-Blood that went by the name Ballen-Ist. The two of them had clashed under the tutelage of the Sith Assassin known as Ferus. He remembered the trials they went through to ascend to Knighthood with great clarity.
How could he not?
It was where Ferus had given him his artificial heart, and it was an unsightly apparatus that protruded from his chest. The device burned with blue tones that matched the tempo of his heart-beat. A part of him hated Ferus for doing this to him, an errant bolt of lightning could warrant the Zabraks funeral and he was always over-compensating for it in battle.
Still, being apart of the Sith faction had its perks.

Yet, ever since the mass exodus of the New Order they were split apart. Maleus did his best in search of information, and had come up with nothing. He had recently rekindled an apprenticeship under Ferus but the Zabrak faked his demise.

Currently, he stood in a dimly lit Catina with his personal holocron shifting through various images of the Sith. "I thought you said money could get me anything, but I see that the amounts of credits I supplied has dulled your sense of reason.. I told you I wanted to get a lead on the whereabouts of the Pure-Blood. Mi-"

He was cut off by the figure in the screen. "The amounts of credits you supplied were insubstantial.. Why don't we renegotiate?"
"The only thing I will renegotiate is my terms for allowing you to continue breathing. Make it so or die."
"I- I will do what I can."
[member="Ballen-Ist"]
 
Nar Shaddaa, the city planet that Ballen-Ist frequented the most. Coruscant was a place of luxury and peace for most Sith, however the Pureblood simply despised the planet. It was overrun with upstarts and those that did not know their place, along with the real powerhouses of the One Sith. A Sith Cult that the young red skinned man did not particularly favour, nor did he oppose it for that matter. In fact, he had done much work in the past, recruiting and training acolytes and assassins alike for their cause. Ballen-Ist respected the power the One Sith commanded, but he simply couldn't respect them as a whole.

The Rule of One was said to be grievously flawed, even though it was easy enough to argue that the Rule of Two was as well. The point being, was that Coruscant was far too dangerous a place to conduct operations on, for there were many unknown variables that were likely to get in the way. After the fall of the Techno Union, Ballen-Ist found himself on Nar Shaddaa a lot more often, selling cheap weaponry to lowly gangsters, while also making deals with wealthy Hutts. Things had been going well for the Pureblood, though he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt in his mind, as he gazed out of the cockpit viewport of his Fury-class interceptor.

The large Sith designed ship would soar through the dark skies of Nar Shaddaa, touching down on a landing pad jutting outward from a skyscraper. A thick mist poured from the interceptors underbelly as the air tight seal disengaged, allowing the loading ramp to fall down to the metallic surface below. Ballen-Ist would stride along the floor, his booted feet slamming audibly with each step, as he gazed out towards the horizon. Someone was there, watching him. Hesitating for only a moment, the Knight would regain his pace, taking a turbolift down all the way to the lower levels surface. If someone was looking for him, then he would meet them. Pulling his dark cloak close to his body, the Pureblood adjusted the metallic mask upon his head, before marching out onto the streets. He kept to the shadows for the most part, avoiding any commotion that his presence might cause. Slowly but surely, the Sith would hone in on [member="Maleus"]' force signature, getting closer and closer to the cantina he was within.
 
Static, the emitter died out.
"Kark."

The Sith-Knight threw his cowl over his cranium as he preferred the anonymity of shadows as well. "Failure is not an option." He'd murmur to himself as his thoughts converged onto that faithful day where the two duelists went head to head. "What...?" The force reached out to him in the form of a premonition. The vision was a powerful one; As a male garbed in shadows approached, he'd extend his hand forward in gesticulation of his excitement. The hilt of his saber was unmistakable. It was the very blade Ferus had crafted with Ballenist when the two were in good standing.. As the vision came to an abrupt end the Zabrak drew his crimson hand forth only to see it tremble before his very eyes.

"Why. . . . Why after all this time I find myself afraid of your presence?"
The holo-emitter buzzed to life as if on cue. "Sir, we've confirmed tha-"
"Send me the coordinates."
"The data has been transmitted to you."
Maleus navigated towards the edge of the Catina. His metallic hand rapping against the glass. Two men who were waiting outside started his Speeder. The male non-nonchalantly strides out of the establishment having been slightly annoyed by its ambiance; one of the things that annoyed him about those types of places were their neon signs that were so bright they often gave their patrons migraines.

The headlights that whirled to life on his speeder were nothing in comparison, and soon the Sith was racing through the desolate moon in search of his long lost associate.
[member="Ballen-Ist"]
 
The lightly armoured jumpsuit that Ballen-Ist wore beneath the dark cloak allowed him to travel at decent speeds, the force enhancing his movements as he continued to dart along the rooftops of Nar Shaddaa's lower levels. With every leap the Pureblood took, he could sense [member="Maleus"]' force signature growing ever closer. The Knight was not sure whether the Zabrak's reappearance was untimely or just in time, though he would find out soon enough upon confronting him. Nar Shaddaa was a planet now uncontrolled by any powerful government or cult, seeing as the Techno Union had fallen apart entirely. Of course, there were still remnants present that tried to regain their authority, though the real power was in the hands of the crime lords and petty gang leaders alike.

As if crime had not previously run rampant on the city planet, the rate in which they were committed basically multiplied, and Ballen-Ist had foreseen this. Despite the Hutt Cartel having been dissolved as well, the slugs were still influential allies, and through many pulled strings and assassinations, the red skinned Sith had gained a bit of sway over the lowlife masses himself. Tucking in his arm and legs, Ballen-Ist would fall between two buildings, landing swiftly on his feet in a crouched position within a dark alleyway. Standing up, the Sith would quickly make his way towards the back entrance of one of the buildings, opening the metallic door to reveal a dirty staircase that led upwards. Once upstairs, Ballen-Ist would examine the familiar surroundings, disappointed with how unkempt the apartment was, if it could even be called that.

There was little to no furniture inside the rooms, the only exception being a metallic table that had previously captured the attention of many rugged looking ruffians. Instead of paying attention to the bets and cards they had placed down during their pazaak game, now they stared intently at the doorway, blasters drawn and aimed directly at the Pureblood. "Oh. Doazi," a Devronian spoke, his expression shifting from angered to terrified. He lowered his weapon, and the other dozen or so men followed suit. "We didn't know you were stopping by," he began to babble, his eyes trying to avoid the crates of spice that were supposed to be smuggled off-world already. Ballen-Ist didn't care however, he was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

"Mighty Kelan has tipped me off on a robbery taking place here, soon," the Sith lied through his teeth, not even warning them of the true danger they were about to be in. Maleus would most likely show up, and when he did, he would not be pleased. "We need to prepare. Have four men on guard outside, in the main room, and another four including yourself at the staircase." There was little need for any more words to be exchanged, for the thugs knew what needed to be done. Whatever Ballen-Ist said, basically. So they began to position themselves, holstering their blaster pistols in exchange for more heavy duty rifles. The Zabrak would arrive soon, and then the fun would begin.
 
Ballen's presence was an all too familiar sensation. Males advances, the swooshing of his speeder tears through dirty streets; errant litter spewed to the sides as he coursed through the area. The force was powerful - it allowed him to reach out to his environment in a ways people who were not force sensitive couldn't dream of. He approached a shabby looking building, the brakes force the vehicle to an abrupt halt. He was getting that feeling again, it was felt as an incessant tickle running down his spine, danger.

Without much thought he steeled his body for what was to come. Boots click against the dirty staircase, insects disperse under the weight of his foot-falls. A dull click resonated a few meters away, the ignition of his saber cast vermilion undertones through the dimly lit hallway.

As he turned the corner a storm of blasters opened fire pelting his current position. Scorch marks riddled the walls and in some cases punched holes through the battered interior. As the rubble settled, and plums of smoke left his blackened form the thugs couldn't help but tremble under the weight of their ignorance..... "He deflected them ho-!" The grunt was cut off, literally. His severed head flew several feet away from his body.
The rest of the thugs retreat in shock, this wasn't some measly robbery, this man was too much for them, all of them.

As the three of them ran, his free hand ascended causing for the fodder to lose their footing. They' float helplessly, the artificial stasis was still not enough to keep them still so he'd finish with a defiant lunge, through the throwing and alteration of his saber he'd cut through the trio simultaneously. Their charred flesh hung from their corpses as they flopped listlessly onto the ground with a thud.

The Zabrak continued. A door, one that was no doubt guarded and expected to cause his ruin. With a defiant push the door shattered causing the debris to spiral through the interior. Chaos ensued as the creatures instinctively throttled the trigger sending fragments of ceiling toppling down. The fiend used this to his advantage, he'd accelerate quickly, as blur he'd shoot betwixt the armada, skillfully and methodically dispatching them with his saber.

"I know you're here...... Enough games....Reveal yourself."

[member="Ballen-Ist"]
 
The cloaked shadow remained still and silent, only opening his golden eyes to pierce through the darkness that shrouded him within the abandoned apartment. In the distance, the Pureblood could hear the screams of terror, smell the burnt ozone as a saber swung wildly, causing those struck by horror to fire wildly. He could even taste the death. Standing from his seated position, Ballen-Ist would stroll forward making his way through he corridor, noticing the caved in ceiling further into the next room and [member="Maleus"], almost right in front of him.

"I see no game, Maleus. Only a test. Just making sure you haven't gone soft," the Sith spoke from beneath a metallic helmet, the speakers within projecting a static voice for the Zabrak to hear. Ballen was aware of Maleus' past, and how he had once experienced the light side of the force. However, it seemed the Zabrak had once more given himself to the dark side, and he seemed to be stronger than ever. What had happened during his disappearance? "So, care to explain yourself?" The Pureblood questioned, shifting in his lightly armored jumpsuit.
 
A test? Sith were always trying to usurp some form of challenge so they could analyze anyone they came into contact with. The objective was always a simple one, either you proved yourself worthy through defeating the 'game', or you'd die where you stood. It was an ancient teaching, a way to root out the weak and incompetent. Maleus proved himself to be a worthy Crusader long ago; why it was not so long ago that they were allies who worked with their master to spread terror across the lands. Although, the term ally was to be used loosely, it was more of a rivalry where failure was not an option. The artificial whirling of his heart, and durasteel-gauntlet adorned hand were eternal reminders of failing to meet the expectations of the way of the Sith.

"It has been too long..." The Zabrak observed how much the Pure-Blood had grown. He commanded the Dark-Side with such authority a part of him was intimidated. However, he was not the only one to have the force serve him; Maleus was a force to be reckoned with in terms of Saber combat. In terms of drawing on innate reserves of the force [member="Ballen-Ist"] had him beat -- there was also the possibility he had improved his blade-work making Maleus obsolete. A Zabrakian relic of no value, an antiquity to be used and thrown away once its purposes were achieved.

"I have been training..." The beast stirs.
"You look different."
 
"Yes, I can tell," the Pureblood muttered, taking a few steps passed Maleus to examine the carnage that had previously ensued. Steam rose from the motionless bodies on the ground, while the others were simply crushed by the fallen debris. Kelan wouldn't be happy, but there was an endless amount of lowlives in the galaxy, they could eventually be replaced. [member="Maleus"], however was a valuable ally, one that Ballen-Ist knew he could work with. The red skinned man would laugh quietly as he listened to the Zabrak's last remark, lifting his arms to place both palms upon the side of his helmet. Pulling it from his head, the Sith would reveal his matured facial features, along with a neat scar that ran diagonally across the upper half of his face.

"You don't know the half of it," he continued, a firm scowl directed at Maleus. "Got this from a Jedi recon team. That boy you were so obsessed with was there... Though he didn't do it." The Sith spoke with a brief laugh, still glaring at Maleus. Obviously, Ballen was angered, though he wasn't sure if he blamed Maleus or not yet. "I hope your training was not in vain, for there has been many developments in the galaxy." He concluded, lifting an arm and sweeping some of the debris from the hallway and into the room. Walking forward, Ballen-Ist expected the Zabrak to follow outside. It was his air speeder he intended to use, after all.
 
Time could do wonders to a body; It could change one's physical appearance and make them seem entirely different. [member="Ballen-Ist"] had grown since their last encounter, and knowing him he was very angry. Angry over many things -- One of them being that there was never a conclusion to their long lasting rivalry. Another being that he long thought Maleus to be dead, and to find him alive was more than a shock. He should've been lost to the endless vacuum of the universe, but the Zabrak was very much -alive.-

"Wa-.. Hm.. I see..." He took in the information, soaked in the cryptic fragments Sith often used to make a point. "Elaborate on these developments..."
The crackle of crimson lightning faded as he deactivated his saber, smoke rises from the chasm -- with a swift,and measured motion the saber found itself lodged on his waist-band.

"Ah, Carden. Hm, but I guess I do need to be filled in on times passing on my absence."
 
"Carden, hah!" The Sith spat venomously over his shoulder, shaking his head in surprise of [member="Maleus"]' cluelessness. Ballen-Ist hadn't encountered the Mandalorian in ages, and wasn't very worried about him at the moment. "I said the boy. The Jedi," the Sith corrected, hoping the Zabrak realized who he spoke of. He had been there on Kashyyyk during their first encounter, after all.

"The Republic appears to have weakened significantly, in their wake rose the Galactic Alliance. The One Sith is still strong, though the battle of Coruscant looks grim. The Techno Union and Hutt Cartel have fallen as well, too major powers in the galaxy. I hope your training was worth it." The Knight concluded, opening the door and stepping outside towards the Zabrak's speeder. "We should leave, to the upper levels." He suggested, climbing in the passenger seat.
 
"Ah.." Maleus understood who [member="Ballen-Ist"] was speaking of. "Tugoro, he and I have battled numerous times. I find his strength enticing, perhaps I shall find him on the battlefield again, if he is alive." The beast muses to himself, his red eyes were rife with hatred, and as he drew his face from the cowl his serrated horns were plainly visible.. It hadn't changed much, unlike the aging that riddled his visage. Bags under his eyes shaped themselves into a haggard slump; His jaw-line was chiseled under the constant stress of conflict, cheeks heavily scarred -- only the coat of encapsulating crimson concealed some of the lasting damage.

Provided Ballen-Ist wished to take off into the upper-levels the Zabrak would follow suit. They'd surge through the dirty streets of the wasteland of a planet in search of their destiny --- Their purpose.
 
The duo would soar through the air, weaving their way through traffic, eventually rising through the levels of Nar Shaddaa via the artificial sinkholes that allowed travel between them. "I have been studying for years, now," the Pureblood muttered to himself, though he knew he was venting to @Maleus. "Though, only now have I been able to uncover ancient secrets of the past," he continued, supporting his head with a hand while its elbow leaned against the airspeeders door.

"Ones that would surely take your mind off such insignificant things," Ballen-Ist concluded, reaching into the folds of his over cloak to withdraw a strange decorated cube, that radiate a dark power. "The holocron of Tulak Horde." He declared, looking somewhat uninterested. He had been unable to learn anything other than saber styles from the gatekeeper, as he was deemed unworthy.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom