Character
It wasn't hard to track the man, it wasn't nearly as hard as it should have been. This led Damian to a simple conclusion, this was a trap. The planet of Kattada was an ocean world, and both himself and his kind of uncle Coren had interests on the planet, so when Damian had heard about a lookalike parading around the planet trying to make contact with local magistrates he had investigated. It didn't take long to find Marek's trail; a casino, a shady club, a number of back alley card games, the low places where one of less than morale convictions might go to enjoy himself. The kind of place one might go to meet men of standing who might be influenced by the dark powers he seemed to possess. The dark power that Damian, when he was being honest with himself, also possessed. It was the ability hard wired into him to lie. It was knowing what people wanted and giving it to them, making friends with them and otherwise using assets.
Of course Damian didn’t use his gift the way Marek did. The string of strung out men and women were in his wake, a trail of breadcrumbs leading to the outer islands.
Located off the coast and away from the more populous regions of the planet was the outer islands. They were tiny specs of green in a void of blue with a population that matched their side. The islands varied from the hyper rich on their privately owned beach to local townies. Isolated from the mainlands with a series of miles long bridges connecting them it was the perfect place to hide.
Lightning struck in the air overhead as Damians speeder drove across the longest of the chain of bridges leading to the islands proper. Most would glide across the ocean in skimmers except the bridge itself was designed for times like this. Damian wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not, but a storm was coming and the sea was choppy leaving only the bridge for citizens to enter and leave. And leave they did as the mandatory evacuation had started ahead of the large gale that was coming. Damian met few speeders on the way in, only a few stragglers left, and those few who were too stubborn to leave.
Another hour and no more speeders. The wind and waves picked up sending water washing onto the road normally well above the danger line. The speeder shook and rocked from the wind, soon it wouldn’t be safe to drive,but also soon he’d be at his destination.
He wasn’t going to any island in particular, but rather to one of the service stations on the bridge, designed with dock and road access to help with any accidents. Damian didn’t know why Marek had chosen this location, but knew why he would; it was perfect for an ambush, controlling the only access in and out of the area.
He approached Waystation six and could see its structure jutting out of the bridge. Taking a few deep breathes he steeled his resolve. He tries to play nice, then tries to eliminate the mans source of income, none of it worked. His thought went to Brooke and her contract with Marek before his employment, there was redemption perhaps. Not for Marek, but for himself.
The speeder lurched, it’s shield taking he brunt of the blow as a laser canon lanced out to strike him. The vehicle swerved on the road and nearly went off the side except for Damians meaningful jerk of the steering wheel.
Spinning out the speeder came to a rest nearly a hundred meters before the station. The door opened as a laser lanced out at him once again, this time neatly blocked by Damains now ignited saber.
Wind blowing his clothing and hail beating against the ground Damian stood. Siloutted by the light of the waystation and made blurry from rain was his nemesis. He knew him even now through the dim of evening and the obscuration from the storm, he knew him because they shared a face. Damian might have been the copy, but that didn’t make him any less a man.
“I’m surprised you’re alone,” Damian said as he stepped forward with his blade readied for another blast.
Marek Starchaser
Of course Damian didn’t use his gift the way Marek did. The string of strung out men and women were in his wake, a trail of breadcrumbs leading to the outer islands.
Located off the coast and away from the more populous regions of the planet was the outer islands. They were tiny specs of green in a void of blue with a population that matched their side. The islands varied from the hyper rich on their privately owned beach to local townies. Isolated from the mainlands with a series of miles long bridges connecting them it was the perfect place to hide.
Lightning struck in the air overhead as Damians speeder drove across the longest of the chain of bridges leading to the islands proper. Most would glide across the ocean in skimmers except the bridge itself was designed for times like this. Damian wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not, but a storm was coming and the sea was choppy leaving only the bridge for citizens to enter and leave. And leave they did as the mandatory evacuation had started ahead of the large gale that was coming. Damian met few speeders on the way in, only a few stragglers left, and those few who were too stubborn to leave.
Another hour and no more speeders. The wind and waves picked up sending water washing onto the road normally well above the danger line. The speeder shook and rocked from the wind, soon it wouldn’t be safe to drive,but also soon he’d be at his destination.
He wasn’t going to any island in particular, but rather to one of the service stations on the bridge, designed with dock and road access to help with any accidents. Damian didn’t know why Marek had chosen this location, but knew why he would; it was perfect for an ambush, controlling the only access in and out of the area.
He approached Waystation six and could see its structure jutting out of the bridge. Taking a few deep breathes he steeled his resolve. He tries to play nice, then tries to eliminate the mans source of income, none of it worked. His thought went to Brooke and her contract with Marek before his employment, there was redemption perhaps. Not for Marek, but for himself.
The speeder lurched, it’s shield taking he brunt of the blow as a laser canon lanced out to strike him. The vehicle swerved on the road and nearly went off the side except for Damians meaningful jerk of the steering wheel.
Spinning out the speeder came to a rest nearly a hundred meters before the station. The door opened as a laser lanced out at him once again, this time neatly blocked by Damains now ignited saber.
Wind blowing his clothing and hail beating against the ground Damian stood. Siloutted by the light of the waystation and made blurry from rain was his nemesis. He knew him even now through the dim of evening and the obscuration from the storm, he knew him because they shared a face. Damian might have been the copy, but that didn’t make him any less a man.
“I’m surprised you’re alone,” Damian said as he stepped forward with his blade readied for another blast.
Marek Starchaser