Private Scapegoat

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

His reaction was unexpected. Generous even. And worst of all he had a point.

But the majority of her missions had been spent playing defense, not mowing down opponents with the reckless abandon the inquisitor seemed well-versed in. For what felt like the millionth time, her thoughts fell back to Kahlil, to the Sithspawn she’d cut down when they’d first met -to how insanely easy it had been at first, and how swiftly guilt barged in afterwards.

A Jedi is never obligated to kill. Only when there's no other option.

Without drumming up a verbal response, her expression simply neutralized, gaze lingering a moment before dropping to the goal at hand.

There was simply no room for her comfy Jedi principles- they’d probably get her killed at this rate.
—

Metal biting skin, the girl kept her gaze pinned on the floor as the commander and his men fanned out, constricting her. For the briefest of moments, she wondered if this was how things ended. A humiliating way to go really. Baited by a Sith, finished off by some low-life mercenary -ultimately a smear on the name of all Jedi kind.

But fortunately for her, Temerant wasn’t the least bit shy, only allowing a few painful seconds to elapse before cashing in on his promise. With more relief than she’d care to admit, Capris tucked her shoulder and rolled free of the Commander’s gun, opening the inquisitor to a full range of targets all while dodging a slug to the head herself. She braced herself against the cacophony of screams and breaking bodies as Temerant made swift work of the company. A snapped neck here, a shattered knee-cap there- A harmonic back and forth that almost made the whole routine seem rehearsed.

It would’ve been fascinating to watch had she not been so intimately involved. She was complacent in this. Wholly and completely complacent. And the revelation nearly locked her in place. Nearly. Her eyes darted to the gaping hole where the energy shield once was. She could make a run for it- rid herself of Temerant. After all, was she really safer with a Sith in tow? They’d go right back to mortal enemies the second the present threat was dealt with.

She wasn’t given time to reason.

As Temerant found himself at the expense of the Commander, Capris found a gun awkwardly configured in her shackled hands. Not so much by accident. In the next instant a single body hit the floor with a resounding thud.

Her hands didn’t shake, her body didn’t recoil. She didn’t convulse at the realization, as if pure instinct had piloted her body, the now smoking hole burrowing into the Commander’s side a direct and intentional shot.

It was Zygerria all over again.

Allowing her aim to lower, she fought down the rising bile in her throat. Dammit.

Instead of tossing the gun away in abject disgust, her grip tightened, not bothering to look Temerant in the eye to ensure he’d even survived the rapid fire. “Let’s go.”

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Thank the bloody Bogan.

Temerant grunted, finally incorporating himself, before pulling himself to his feet, even as she demanded they got on the move. It'd been a good shot, and to his surprise, she wasn't moping, her head in the game.

Or at least, he knew, distracting her from what she'd just done. He knew it all too well.

He regarded the teenager. For a moment, he wondered if she'd turn her frustrations on him. Force knew he might've at her age. And for a brief moment, he also wondered what it might've been like if things had been different.

He opened his mouth to speak, but he found he really didn't have anything to say. The impulse to provide some snark regarding his condition was there, but he found he didn't have the inclination to spout it.

"Let's," he simply gruffed at last, ignoring the pain that flooded his shoulder, the bullet still dancing inside. He had never been hit by a slug before, surprisingly enough, but he decided they weren't any more fun than blasters. To top things off, they did not sear like plasma did, provoking a healthy amount of bleeding. But they did not have time to focus on that.

He adopted a tactical stance, firearm raised. "Stick close behind," he grunted. "And keep your weapon trained infront of you at all times. We do not know how many are left, and they will fire at us," he noted, not waiting for a response before advancing.

Surprisingly, they met little in the way of opposition as they moved to the medbay, where a lone Teehka looked over his younger companion.

"Hello Teehlo," the man grunted, pointing the slugthrower at him. Surprisingly, he made no move to rise from his seat.

"They're all dead, aren't they?" the man gruffed, still looking over Rhiatt, who was hooked to a bed, wearing a respiratory device, but it seemed, at least, he had survived.

"The ones that came after us, yes," Temerant confirmed. "How many more in the building?"

"Just us," Teehlo sighed.

"I don't appreciate being lied to, Teehlo," Temerant probed.

"Don't you think they would've swarmed your position when they heard the shots?" the man countered. It was a fair point.

"Very well. Our lightsabers. Where?" he demanded.

"Command room. We didn't have time to store them in the armory," Teehlo complied with his query. "Down the hall, to the right," he jutted his head in the general direction.

"You're being oddly cooperative," Temerant noted suspiciously. "What gives?"

"I know you're going to kill me," the man countered. "All I ask is you spare the kid," he requested then.

"You should've thought about that before getting him involved in your little war, now shouldn't you?" Temerant replied dryly. "Cuffs off. Now," he instructed then. "And keep your hands where I can see them."

Teehlo sighed in resignation, moving to liberate them from the cuffs. Soon enough, they found themselves free of them, Teehlo's hands up in the air as he took a step back.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Allowing her gaze to be pulled from the Commander’s slumped body as Temerant motioned them out, she fell in place behind the man. An uncharacteristic albeit necessary show of compliance.

She may have found the strength to argue or at the very least comment under better circumstances, but for the time being her mind fixated solely on the next task laid out before her. Loose the shackles- find their sabers. It was simple enough for her body to distract her mind, forward motion being the only tried and true way to keep from spiraling. Moral qualms could come later, first she needed to survive this.

Turning the corner into the med bay, her gun lowered at the sight of Teehlo and Rhiatt, doing nothing to snuff out the glint of relief in her eyes at seeing the younger soldier stabilizing. It was with that same concern she examined the exchange between Teelho and Temerant. They were at the end of the line? Ah, that certainly didn’t bode well given her utility was near expended. Would Temerant now turn on her? He certainly didn’t seem the type to leave loose ends.

Though, in all fairness, he also didn’t seem the type to blindly save a Jedi either. Yet here she was, alive and well.

Capris watched the man as he probed Teehlo, past events having already proved she wouldn’t be able to take him in a fight. Maybe his mercy only stemmed from her inability to pose a threat- that certainly seemed to be the case back with Runik. Before she could muse further however, Teehlo was coerced into uncuffing the two. The chain broke and once more the Force flooded her senses in a warm bath of light. It was a much-needed reprieve, but she was careful not to lose herself in it. Fighting the instinct to soothe her newly freed wrists the girl simply turned to the soldier, eyes scanning his own.

“What assignment?”

However simple the question, its implications ran deep, Teehlo looking at her a moment with his hands still raised.

“Jutrand.”

Her expression sobered, a cool wash of understanding softening her exterior in an almost undetectable manner. Breaking the mutual acknowledgment, her gaze flickered up towards Temerant.

“They haven’t seen you. They have no way of tracking you- You’ll slip straight back into obscurity the moment you step foot off this place.” The same couldn’t be said for her, but that hardly mattered. She’d take the target on her back; the moral ramifications were far easier to grapple with.

“They’re not a threat to you. Hell, we’ve probably squashed whatever hope their cell had of mobilizing in the first place.” She eyed the inquisitor, trying in vain to get a read of his body language.

“Why waste the ammunition? Let’s just tie them up and be on our way.”

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant had busied himself relieving Teehlo of his sidearm as he spoke, only to wave his slugthrower around his face, indicating he wanted his arms behind his back, the man reshackling him with the cuffs he'd just gotten off. Nevertheless, the gun was put back in his face as he rejoined them.

"You're kind of relentless," he noted bluntly, addressing the teenager. "Is this like a little preemptive band-aid? Do you argue for every soul that needs killing before it happens, just so you can feel better about yourself after the fact?" he asked, though the question was, yet, again, rhetorical. He looked back at Teehlo, nodding his head to her.

"Is this true?" he asked him. "We may have 'crushed' your little cell, but what of your movement, hrm?"

Silence from the man.

"It's like your Commander said, hrm? Runik's death will make your ill-guided sentiments spread like wild fire. And what about you? Are you going to change your ways and abandon your fights against force users?"

"...No," Teehlo grunted through gritted teeth.

"No, I didn't think so," Temerant gruffed, pushing the gun to his head. The man closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. And yet... the shot didn't come.

"This girl is arguing for your life," he noted then. "Not that I give much of a feth, but you do not strike me as an idiot, Teehlo. Surely, you can see that you're wasting your energy targeting the wrong people," he pointed out.

Teehlo blinked at that. "She's just another filthy..."

Temerant didn't let him finish the sentence, jabbing the point of his gun into the man's eye, which made him jerk his head back as he fell into a bleeding frenzy, eyes watering.

"Yes, yes, a filthy forcer," Temerant grunted.

"ARGH! What the kark, man?" the man let his professionalism fall, partly out of shock, partly out of pain.

"Your rhetoric is starting to bore me. And you people really need to expand your repertoire when it comes to insults," Temerant simply replied. "Besides, the man pointing a gun at you also happens to be a filthy forcer, so you may wish to watch that tongue," he suggested bluntly. "Look at her," he demanded then.

Teehlo let out something akin to a snarl, but made an effort to make sense of her visage.

"She's someone's child, too. And she's trying to save your life," the man remarked. "I know your type likes to repeat your self-justifying mantras until brain death is achieved, but you know targetting random forcers won't bring her back."

A tear slipped down his face, though this time, they did not seem prompted by the man's little gun jab.

Temerant let out a gruff exhale. "For what it's worth, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't stop, either," he conceded.

"What?" Teehlo looked back at him, confused.

"Making them pay," Temerant clarified. "I just wouldn't be stupid enough to target the wrong people out of a sense of impotence. Nor would I wrap up kids like our brash friend Rhiatt here in my vendettas," he remarked, pointing his chin briefly to the boy in the bed.

Teehlo was trembling now with conflicted emotions. "My little girl..."

"Is dead," Temerant pointed out, dry as ever. "And killing us would've not brought her back. But she had a mother, yes? Estranged from you, I imagine, given your activities. Losing a child can do that, anyway. But do you still love her?"

Teehlo's eyes widened at this, despite the difficulty. "If you touch a hair on her...!" he began, launching towards Temerant... who swiftly poked his good eye. "ARGH! SON! OF! A! BANTHA!" Teehlo screamed, hopping around and shaking his head widely, as if that might make the pain fall off.

"Shush. I'm speaking. Focus," Temerant demanded. "I have no interest in going after your old flames. I'm trying to make a point. You didn't lose everything. And you won't gain anything by swapping out your revenge for the next best thing," he pointed out. "That woman likely needs you, and young Rhiatt here could likely use some actual guidance, so stop feeling sorry for yourself and focus your energy on something worthwhile."

The words seemed to sink in. Clearly, they resonated with Teehlo, who on some fundamental level, must've known them to be true. He stared (or tried to) at Temerant for a while, as confused as he seemed pensive.

"What about you?" he growled then.

"What about me?" Temerant canted his head.

"Why do you do what you do?" he demanded to know.

Temerant paused at that. "Get Rhiatt out of here, Teehlo. And forget about the girl," he grunted, although there was an unspoken threat that came with his last words. "And... Good luck with the concussion."

"What concu..."

WHAM.

Teehlo fell flat to the ground after the butt of the gun slammed right onto his temple.

"That is for ealier," Temerant gruffed, before looking to the girl. "There. Happy? Will you get off my back if I have to kill anyone else? Because you've made me lose a good amount of time already and that Butcher fellow will probably arrive any minute now," he pointed out.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Temerant's words dug. A bit deeper than she'd honestly care to admit. The corner of her mouth twitched in preparation of a comeback, but surprisingly she fell short. She could spout as much Jedi rhetoric as her heart desired, it didn't change the way of things. Not when she was too weak to defend her principles in any real sense. Temerant would simply gun her down if she tried anything stupid.

Or maybe not? Pinpointing the man's moral compass was.. proving difficult.

Before she could bite back, Temerant revoked his attention, casually sealing a gun to Teehlo's temple. In sync with the man, Capris stiffened, anticipating a shot that never came. His restraint had her surprised, enough so to spare a glance towards the dark-clad man. He actually listened? Odd. The inquisitor clearly kept his empathy on a tight leash however, Teehlo nearly keeling over as a gun was jammed into his eye socket. Flashing a grimace, she winced in accordance.

It was then Temerant demanded the man look at her, which he did to the best of his ability, eyes pooling with equal parts contempt and conflict. Not that she could honestly hold it against him. She stared back, lips thin as Temerant proceeded to tangle him in a web of inner conflict. It was as impressive as it was effective, Teehlo only managing to growl back in defeat.

In a final bid, the soldier asked the very same question she'd been sitting on herself. Of course the inquisitor dodged it, instead opting for a thinly-veiled threat punctuated with a concussion. Typical.

"There. Happy? Will you get off my back if I have to kill anyone else?...”

"I can't make that promise." Quoting Temerant himself, Capris pulled her eyes from Teehlo's slumped body. "Preemptive bandaid, remember?" Rubbing a tendon on her wrist, the girl returned a comfortable grip on her gun. "Maybe cut back on monologuing next time if you're so worried about punctuality." She shrugged, poking her head out from the med bay to ensure the path was clear. "Or if you don't like the sound of that, maybe you can just psychoanalyze the Butcher until you get him pissing himself too. Three for three."

Pushing out to the hallway, the girl kept vigilant. Of both the halls and the man besides her.

"Plus," Capris cocked her head over her shoulder, adopting a tone that made it clear she wasn't still on about the Butcher. "You wouldn't have spared him if some small part of you didn't want to."

Again they found little in the way of resistance as they moved towards the command room, a false sense of security if anything.

Ahead of them a paneled door breathed open, Capris instinctively pressing herself to the wall at the sound. From it emerged a man, face horrifically maimed from what could only be deduced as a lightsaber burn. There was no mistaking him, especially not with the dura-steel plated case held firmly in his hand, a gun in the other.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Whilst she, to his expert assessment, rattled on in response, Temerant looked over the medbay's shelves, searching for something...

He seemed to hit the jackpot, grabbing a stimpak and promptly injecting it into his person, using the breach in his armour to reach his skin and allow the bacta to flood around the wound. Much like he'd implied to the fallen Commander, pain was not something he was a stranger to, the Sith doing a good job of maintaining his cool despite the fact that there was a bullet dodged inside him. The loss of blood, however, was somewhat more concerning, but they couldn't dally, and he had no intention of clueing the brat in on the severity of his condition. Besides, he'd suffered worse. Pieces of metal floating around his insides were just something of a novel experience, to add to a long list.

"I was not monologuing. I was interacting," he noted. "It's not my fault Teehlo is such a stubborn nerf herder. And I told you earlier," he gruffed as he joined her. "Death is a tool. If I'd killed him you would've wanted to fight, in all likelihood. For folk who subscribe to the idea that 'there is no death' you certainly have a lot of hang-ups surrounding it," he observed. It was patent, by now, that he was not a Jedi. Not by any traditional sense of the title, any way. "It has nothing to do with what I want. I am merely being pragmatic."

He did wonder, however, if the blood loss was somewhat interfering with his ability to make decisions. The girl, at this point, was more of an obstacle than a boon. He didn't even need his slug-thrower anymore: even injured, he could likely end her with relatively little effort. She was a Padawan, and he, a highly condecorated assassin. Jedi Masters and Sith Lords both had fallen to him. Some with unexpected ease. And he'd never had any moral quandaries about it before. Why should she be any different?

It was then that the Butcher showed up.

"What in the..." he did not finish his thought, raising his gun to shoot at the pair. But Temerant had already lifted his good arm.

Unlike the sniper slugs, these were far more predictable, the Butcher's surprise working to his advantage. The bullets slowed as they made their way to them, only to hang in mid-air.

"No, no," Temerant chided him. "I've had enough of being shot at with bloody pellets for one day," he remarkedeven as he reached out with the force, his studies on the inner workings of a slugthrower coming into play. There was a reason why most of the galaxy thought them archaic weapons, their functioning -and flaws- fairly apparent to someone with an in-depth understanding of physics and engineering... and dangerous, when that was coupled with a mastery over telekinesis. "I wouldn't shoot again, if I were you," he warned.

The Butcher, of course, didn't listen to this. He pressed the trigger, and yet, the bullet did not come out. Instead, the barrel exploded, forming an almost mushroom shape, pieces of shrapnel flying back at the butcher, who let out a pained swear as he dropped the ruined slugger to the ground.

All manner of nasty means of disposal occurred to him in that moment... but instead, he holstered his gun inside the back of his trousers, moving to lean his shoulder against a wall.

"I'm tired of doing all the heavy lifting," he told the teenager then. "So go ahead, Capris. He's all yours. Show me how a Jedi deals with a man who loves to torture our kind."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
​

Growing impatient, it was with zero tact or consideration she tossed a pointed look back Temerant's way. One which quickly morphed into mild surprise. Oh. Right. He'd been shot. Point blank. Right in front of her. All of like five minutes ago. Her eyes latched onto the stimpak, watching as the man self-injected without so much as a grimace. Capris almost formed some kind of concerned remark in response, but her lips thinned before it could escape.

In all fairness he was doing a much better job concealing his injuries then she had.

Eyes skimming the small depression on his armor in some attempt to gauge the damage underneath, he didn't allow her any time to dwell on it. Not that she cared to outside the fact it was useful intel. If he were to drop dead, she'd certainly be better off.

Well.. so long as she could make a straight shot out of here. But of course that was never how things panned out.

Before long history repeated itself, a malfunctioning gun and a Sith offering justice on a silver platter. This time around it was the use of her own name that almost had the girl wincing- likely the intended effect.

"Don't get casual with me." She leveled, "You're pushing it." With a flick of the wrist, she swept the slugger far from the Butcher's clawing reach. Ashla, it felt good to be in control again. To flex the force as if it were a sore muscle. To wield some conceivable power over another person, especially someone like the Butcher. Who, despite her obedience to emotional regulation, earned a flame of indignation from the girl.

It was Temerant's final remark however, that had her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Despite how things appeared, she had options on how to go about this. Some far more rational than others. If there was ever an opportunity to get a leg up, now was both the time and place. Temerant's grip was waning, even as he exuded pure indifference, so why not capitalize on that? If she ran, would he even bother giving chase? Certainly not with Butcher still alive enough to keep him company.

Even with that notion, the girl didn't budge. Much to her own chagrin.

He'd saved her hadn't he?

He'd allowed himself to be captured, when he very easily could've thrown her to the wolves instead.

Him.

An trained assassin, a hardened sith- whatever the feth he was. Ultimately someone who should know better.

Despite her fervent attempts, she couldn't quite shake the implications. So she caved.

Rolling back a shoulder to quiet her protesting muscles, the girl took full advantage of the opening left by Temerant. Keeping in pattern with everyone else she'd fought today, the Butcher absolutely towered over her, wild and blinded by pain as he swung shrapnel laced arms down on her head. "FETHING FORCERS."

"Yeah I know." Dodging the lunge with a sharp sidestep, Capris delivered a kick spanning his abdomen and rib cage, forcing the man against the wall. In retaliation he grabbed for her leg, attempting to shake her balance. But she merely twisted free before he got the chance, a premeditated fist connecting with his jawline. Unlike what little prowess she'd shown with a saber in hand, the girl seemed almost in her element. It certainly wasn't violent enough for the likes of Temerant to appreciate, but there remained a feral edge to her waltz, one no Jedi had taught her.

As soon as she had him positioned and adequately disoriented, her foot shot up, striking an occipital nerve and then receding as the man slumped to the ground in response. Shaking the sting from her knuckles, two fingers lowered to his carotid, easing back once they found a pulse.

"There's your answer." The girl straightened, eyes resting on the slacked form of the Butcher a moment before switching to Temerant. She was by no means a pacifist, just an adrenaline junkie with lines she wouldn't cross.

Easing through her abuse of her muscles, Capris seemed to deliberate a moment. All while standing over the Butcher, words just teasing her lips.

"You're hurt."

The statement was almost accusatory, hilariously so given she wasn't readily owning up to her own condition either. But to the untrained eye it was hard to tell how much his armor had truly blocked- Hard to tell If he needed immediate attention.

"How bad is it?"

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

He watched her fight with almost professional interest, his good hand (for the other one was starting to feel pretty numb) casually prompting the case to slide closer to him as he forced it open with... well. The Force.

Still, he kept most of his attention on the fight. She was good. Better at this than with her lightsaber, that was certain. With training, she could become a very competent duelist. Fast. Precise. Maybe if she learned the fundamentals of Makashi and Djem So properly and maybe combined them with... he shook his head. Jedi. He needed to stop thinking about what might benefit, and start thinking of how to get rid of her. Killing her wasn't worth it, at this point. Outside of mission parameters, and she had, in all likelihood, saved his life. But the blood loss, coupled with his exertion in the force was making him light-headed and clearly had him contemplating nonsense.

"I've never seen a Jedi fight like that," the man pointed wryly out as she returned, lifting the Buthcher's case in the air with a casual gesture and going over his tools. Oh yeah, he knew what he was doing. "Hrmph. Do not pretend to concern yourself with my well-being. It is unbecoming. Besides, not as badly as he intended to hurt us," he dismissed the question, being all too familiar with the items on display. He was a Knight Inquisitor after all: he'd been trained in the resistance of extreme torture... and in its distribution. "Laser scapel. Acid jet. Flesh peeler. Electroshock nerve probe. Joint crippler. Bone fragmenter. Power shear. Good old welding tool. Various needles with what I can only assume to be neurotoxins..." he listed. "And..."

He pulled out with the force a container, which held a pent-up, nasty looking creature. It had a snake-like, yellow-brown body, with a long, sting like tail making up the majority of its length and mass, the upper end and almost crustacean like exoskeleton, with four sharp, hook-like claws and similar fangs. "A bloody interrogation spineray," Temerant gruffed with disgust. "Yuuzhan Vong bioweapon. This thing will latch on to you and open up your neural pathways. Makes you feel like every nerve ending is on fire, and experiment pain in a whole new dimension. So that's what the Commander meant," he grunted with displeasure, eyeing the nightmarish being, which screeched at him from within its glass prison.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x
​

"I've never seen a Jedi fight like that,"

Careful to step over the behemoth of muscles that was the Butcher, two hands lifted to adjusted her jacket with a tug . “Yeah well- first time for everything.”

He then dismissed his injuries, but not before taking the time to critique her. Predictable. Concern was definitely too strong of a word. "Alright, I’ll shut up.” Hands raised in mock surrender, the girl bridged the gap, coming to a stand-still with the case between them. “Blame it on my Jedi sensibilities.”

It was then she followed Temerant’s gaze to the tool kit, stiffening at its contents all while she blinked back a look of surprise. Of course- not having been tortured in any traditional sense before- she couldn’t name a single component. But context coupled with speculation was a strong enough basis to work from. Not to mention Temerant was there to kindly fill in the blanks. Simply rattling them off like one might a bingo card.

Why was she not surprised?

With a skeptic eyebrow her gaze returned to Temerant before flitting down to the spineray. Watching as it threw its body against the glass, determined to reach the force sensitives outside. Feth- they planned to use that on them? Stifling a grimace she suddenly found herself immensely grateful for Temerant’s interference. Well.. his sacrifice if she were to really dig into things. But she’d sooner die than acknowledge that specific revelation.

Still, if he hadn’t been here alongside her-

Her palm flexed, snuffing out such thoughts.

“Good to know.” The Jedi deadpanned. As dismissive as she seemed, there was an edge of consideration peeking through her expression. His words weren’t lost on her. Especially just how personal they sounded, the inquisitor no doubt speaking from first-hand experience. “If you’re done ogling, how about we grab our lightsabers and find a way off of here?”

The girl shrugged, ready to turn to the command room. “We can throw that thing into the abyss of space while we’re at it.”

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Whilst the Commander had been wrong about one thing, Capris' instincts brought her dangerously close to the more gruesome truth: when it came to pain, Temerant's imagination was not lacking when it came to the depths it could reach. He had a most solid foundation.

"Right," he simply grunted, not in the mood to argue with a misguided teenager. He let the container float back into its the case's padded interior, fitting perfectly into a 'slot' designed for it, before closing the strap and subsequently, the case itself, which he promptly snatched out of the air.

As they passed the Butcher, he gave the unconscious man a contemptuous look. Almost immediately, he flew towards the ceiling, slamming against it hard, before crashing back down to the floor, then slamming towards each wall in quick succesion. If he wasn't dead from the trauma, he was certainly broken now, and had many, many hours of rehabilitation before him, his body a crumpled mess on the ground.

"Do not lecture me," the man in black warned her preemptively. His voice was a growl, deep and full of danger, unlike any tone he'd use with her previously: it was apparent he was deadly serious about the limits of his patience. "I am not in the mood... And it is much better than he deserves," he remarked in an almost dull fashion, as if he were completely separated from the brutality he'd just donned out.

It wasn't long before they found the command room, the man making a beeline for the computational systems in place.

"Find our lightsabers," he instructed, as if there were no doubt in his mind regarding who was in charge. "I have something to do. And don't try anything stupid," he pointed out. "A lightsaber won't do you any good against me. If anything, it might hinder you, given what I've seen so far," he commented clinically as he began to slice into the mainframe.

"Hrrrm... Sloppy," he mused as his fingers tapped away at breackneck speed, the man swatting away the system's defenses like they were flies with line after line of code. He snorted a grunt when he finally bypassed the password, rolling his eyes.

T1m3f0rR3tr1but10n.

It wasn't clever. It was sentimental. A true professional would have chosen something entirely at random, and cyclically changed it. Whoever was in charge of their ciber-security clearly sinned of arrogance.

Even as those musings ran through his head, he was already redirecting the jammers to block out any frequencies but the ones of his choosing. Soon enough, a familiar voice reverberated inside his head.

"Master! Fething finally. I was starting to worry you might actually be in trouble," X3 came in giddily through the comms.

"Your lack of faith is disturbing," the man noted soberly. "I am giving you access to this joke of an insurgency's computers. I want you to download and catalog everything they have. I want everything on these clowns," he commanded. "And of course, wipe any traces of me. They took footage of me during our fight. I want it gone."

"Understood, Master," the droid cracked his hands' metallic joints - to little effect, more of a quirk than anything. "Are you doing okay?" he asked then. "I am detecting a breach in your armour, and its biofeed is presenting some alarming data. Your heart rate is somewhat faster than usual, and your blood pressure is dropping... And if I didn't know about all your fancy breathing techniques and respirator, I wouldn't be surprised if your respiration had grown shallower... Are you karking hemorraghing?!" the droid asked with alarm as he put two and two together.

"It's under control. I used a stimpak," the man dismissed the notion as he tried to concentrate on a file he'd found. "Decrypt this for me, will you?"

"What in Chaos happened?" the droid demanded to know, even as he did as commanded. "Why didn't you seal off the wound?"

"Shot. Armor piercing slug," Temerant let him know. He wasn't in the mood to argue with his own droid, and it was getting harder to concentrate, his voice having fallen to a murmur to not give Capris any insight as to his condition. "It's still inside me. Can't cauterize or stitch it up until it's out and I've had the whole thing disinfected. Might've been laced with something," he suggested.

"Oh, and you used a bloody stimpak. No concerns there, then! If someone punctures your liver next I'll be sure to have some band-aids handy," the droid chided him, his voice full of contemptuous sarcasm. "You need surgery!"

Temerant looked over the file, which contained some sensitive information regarding people of note that were involved with their little movement. He'd have time to review everything later, but he nodded to himself, branding certain pieces to memory. One, in particular, the man's weakening consciousness managing to connect some dots.

"I'll be there soon. Calm down," he growled, leaving the computer to turn to his unexpected companion. "Just do your job."

X3 knew better than to argue with him in this situation. There was nothing he could much do to help with the issue at current, and there was a further development. "We have a problem," he noted. "I'm getting an incoming signal. I do believe these people's higher ups are expecting some manner of update regarding your incarceration."

"Lightsabers," he demanded from Capris then, fully expecting for them to have them, a hand outstretched. "We need to get out of here."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x

​

Maybe if his brutality had less of a precedent, Capris would've reeled back in abject horror. But as had already been established, Temerant was a predictable kind of cruel. And his treatment of the Butcher was nothing if not expected. Numbing almost.

That's not to say she watched it with any measure of indifference. Quick to minimize her initial shock, the girl's nostrils flared ever so slightly, eyes pinned to the splintered form of the Butcher then to the floor then to Temerant. Her previous nonchalance all but wiped away.

He didn't have to worry about any lecture, she had nothing to say. Not to his face at least.

Before the scene could truly sink in, they pushed to the command room, Temerant waving her off to retrieve their sabers. If not for the beatdown she'd literally just witnessed coupled with her near debilitating injuries, she may have found the strength to bite back. But as stubborn as she was, the girl didn't happen to be an idiot on top.

Still her brow pulled together at his last remark, gaze hostile. Regardless of his assessment, she felt much better about her odds with a lightsaber in hand, so rather begrudgingly the girl obliged.

It wasn't much of a search. Like Teehlo had suggested, stashing their lightsabers had been a rather rushed job. So it was with practical ease she moved down the length of control boards, letting the thrum of her own crystal weed out the remaining. With a quick, strategic heel kick to a back panel, she fished out the hidden sabers, starting with her own. Her eyes ghosted over the other two, hand hovering a moment. The Jedi's saber was no surprise, considering it had been the very sword used against her hours earlier. A reminder that this man had killed the likes of her before, and would undoubtedly do so again.

And as much as that sent a rush of indignation coursing through her it was nothing in comparison to the one lying besides it.

Pulling them to an open hand with the force, the girl’s mistake wasn't realized until a cold, somewhat familiar sensation stirred the outskirts of her awareness. Shit.

Capris stiffened, knuckles paling with an unconscious amount of force behind them. Almost as if she meant to snap the sabers in two. The cool absence of reality bound her limbs in the next moment, senses abruptly and violently occupied. A notably more aggressive onset than the handful of times her psychometry had been triggered before.

She seethed.


The figure in black swung the crimson blade with brutal speed and precision, each blow making her take a step back down the narrow bridge.

Fast. He's too fast. Too strong. He wanted me here.

She was a master of Ataru, and yet the narrow foot space allowed her little space to maneuver, the man seeming to switch between Makashi and Djem So attacks effortlessly, a fluidness to the way in which he married the two.

"You don't need to do this!" she tried to appeal to reason.

"It is not personal," the man's voice gruffed back, his advance relentless. "Your bladework is beautiful. I'll be sorry to see you gone," he admitted. "You will not suffer."

Kill him. I need to kill him now. I need to…

There was an audible gasp as the red blade pierced straight through her heart, her blade going out, as did his, the man preventing her from falling over the edge as he moved to grab her, holding her in place. It was a small comfort, as her body began shutting down. A moment of clarity afforded.

There is no death. There is only…


The girl nearly staggered back, the sensation of having died still caving her chest. Palpable enough for a hand to brush against her sternum, fluttering over the point of impact as if it were a raw and open wound. He'd shown no hesitation in committing the act, yet the figure -Temerant- still clung to her failing body.

Well.. not her failing body but still.

Just when she felt the vision easing up, another came to replace it. Ten fold.


Don't stop. Don't think. RUN.

The jungle was dark and full of noises, yet they all came to a screeching halt as a blood-curling roar impregnated the air.

"Come here and fight me, little ghost!" a guttural voice came through, slightly robotic as some manner of translator turned grunts and growls into words, its volume making it cacophonous as he screamed after him. "There is nowhere for you to run! I can smell the stench of your FEAR!"

I'm faster than he is. He cannot catch me. Just keep running.

Hopeful thoughts as he bounced from tree branch to tree branch, to trunk and vine at unnatural speeds, keeping to a high ground, even as the sound of stomping and vegetation crumbling followed not so far away. Even trees seemed to fall in the rage-bound approach of his persecutor.

"I do not understand what Father sees in you!" the monstrous voice continued to roar. "Weak little human, you are no hunter! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT PREY! And I shall prove it to him once and for all!"

Just talk. Weak Dun-Moch. He's getting frustrated. Tired. He is no longer hunting. He is bull rushing, hoping taunting will get to you where his skills can't. He does not understand failure. Don't listen to him. Don't let your pride get in the way. Survive.

There was a measure of fear. Youthful fear. And yet it was familiar. Controlled. This was not the first time he was hunted... but there was a very real uncertainty that he could handle whatever was after him.

"Or maybe I'll just go back to that quaint little village you've been bringing your kills to in the night! Have my fun with them!" the beast roared then.

The youth stopped at that. How does he…

​

"You thought I wouldn't know about that?!" the beast growled with savage amusement. "Wretched little ghost! You are disgusting! You defile Father's teachings! There can only be one being at the top of the food chain, and yet you long for the pack! And even then, you're too scared to let them even see you! You could be a God amongst them! And now they're all dead because of you!" the beast proclaimed.

Anger. Unbridled anger, fueled by fear. This time, real fear. Not for himself, but for others.

"I will start by goring their men! Then I will turn to their cubs, and make the women watch as I…!"

The hulking, hooded being roared in pain as the youth descended upon him, slashing at his back with his crimson blade at the last moment, the blade going off again.

"You talk too much," Temerant snarled, before dashing back into the darkness.

"COME BACK HERE!" the beast demanded as it gave chase.

That's it. Keep him angry. Keep him working on instinct and rage. You know these jungles better than he does.

As he ran through the shadows, he snatched a bundle of flowers from the ground. It was gaining on him. Good. He hopped, then came to a stop, turning to face his hunter.

"At last!" the creature growled. "Finally decided to accept your… What? Are you threatening me with flowers?"

The beast never finished the sentence, a massive, carnivorous plant snapping shut around his form as it stepped over its flattened surface. Temerant didn't give it time to think, his free hand blasting the flowers with the force to spread their spores towards the creature's hooded face, who reacted poorly, snarling in pain and frustration as it jerked it back, clawing at the plant that held him prisoner.

Now. Kill him now.

He rushed, lightsaber igniting, yet instinct forced him to roll as another claw rose, shooting lightning his way. He moved in for the kill, nevertheless, but it was all the respite the massive humanoid needed, the man-eater torn apart as he stepped forth, a huge lightsaber coming to block his own.

The hood had fallen back, and now, under the light of their clashing blades, its face could be seen. Massive and saurian, it revealed row after row of dagger-like fangs. It was a creature of terror, large and muscular, somewhere between mammal and reptile, a bifid tongue snaking between its terrifying teeth as his eyes, bleeding from the reaction the spores had caused, gazed down upon him with hatred, large and black as the void. Then its neck coiled… and its maw descended towards his face, like a snake lashing out.


The return to reality was by no means smooth. Her breaths came shallow, stabilizing after a moment, eyes processing the change in scenery thrice over. What. Thefuck.

Back facing Temerant, his command went ignored.

Had that been him in the vision? Or just another of his victims? Young like her. Equally at war with their emotions. Distinctly human. She blinked, forcing her head back into the game as her chin tipped back over her shoulder, regarding Temerant.

Gut instinct had her gravitating towards the first.

Finding a foothold in a level of boldness she didn't even know she had, the girl tossed the inquisitor his saber. Almost dismissive of the fact. The other however, she kept a lock-jawed hold of.

"I'm keeping this." She let him know. The statement wasn't defensive or pleading, just leveled. Was she going to get away with this? Unlikely. Did an overbearing sense of duty force her to push her luck anyway? 100%.

"Fight me if you want to- As well as you can hemorrhaging that is." She knew perfectly well he could still cut her down in his condition. Likely would, now that she made herself something of an obstacle. But regardless she let the words loose, testing whatever whisper thin mercy had kept her alive this long. "But I think we both know that would be an unnecessary waste of time. Which is something we don't have."

She inhaled, gaze slipping to the dead Jedi's saber. "I'm not fucking letting you take-" Her voice dove low, hiccuping with emotion. Despite her attempts to plough through, the visions coursed fresh in her veins. Flushing judgment. Rational thought. Anything of the sort from her system.

She inhaled again, the break in her mask resuturing. There is only the force..

"Like you said. We gotta go."

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon ​

Temerant snatched his saber out of the air. She seemed... rattled. What the feth had gotten into her? And was she seriously choosing to challenge him? To take something he had cherished and honoured, in his own way, and more importantly, earned?

"You are not letting me?" he asked, slowly beginning to make his way towards her. Despite his size, his footsteps barely made a sound, and yet they might have just as well thundered in the room.

"Master, your condition..." X3 begged, but the man did not cease.

"Let us be candid for a moment here, Capris," he growled, practically crunching her name between his teeth. "I understand you may be going through something of a rebellious phase. That your training dictates you should oppose me at every turn. That you think that your gesture holds some kind of meaning..." he begun. Even as he spoke, the entirety of the command center appeared to begin to shake, metal rattling and moaning all around them, loose objects beginning to levitate. Despite his lack of presence in the form, it was becoming rather evident that he was not lacking in strength within it. Not by any stretch of the imagination. "But you do not allow me to do anything," he sentenced, beginning to loom over her. "You think this wound hinders me? Against the likes of you? I have stared into the abyss, child, and when it looked back at me, I dove in to face the terrors that awaited. I have walked the shadowed roads and been to the dark places. I have fought beings the likes of which would make your worst nightmares restful, faced with their memory. I..."

"You are going to wreck the computer systems, and I am not done," X3 chimed in in a rush, appealing to his common sense, in hopes that it might make his anger subside. "And whilst I do love hearing you monologue, she is entirely right. You are in Coruscant, Master, and the chrono is ticking. Making a hurt teenager -who has just shared with you in a fair bit of trauma, might I add,- wet her pants is not the mission."

Temerant had stopped dead on his tracks as the droid addressed him, considering the words for a moment, before taking a deep breath... which devolved into a coughing fit. Letting himself loose in the force was taking a toll in his injured condition, and it had distracted him from keeping whatever the bullet was putting into his blood at bay. If he was not certain that he'd been poisoned before, he had no doubt now. And apparently, with something he wasn't immunized to. Yet.

He snarled, focusing back on flushing the toxins from his body.

"Please tell me you didn't just cough blood into your helmet," X3 pleaded.

He couldn't do that. Not without lying.

"...That lightsaber belonged to a great Jedi. She was fierce and beautiful in her determination. She died a noble death. A warrior's death," he grunted, almost reproachingly. Clearly, unlike Capris he was not privy to the woman's final thoughts. Either that, or her fear did not diminish what he thought of her. As always, hard to read. "Do not dishonour it," he gruffed, before finally agreeing. "Let's go."

He did not bother waiting for her agreement. She did not seem interested in fighting, and if his little display had changed her mind... Well. He would have to deal with it.

"X3. Speeders," he demanded, not bothering to even hide his associate's presence, or name, for that matter.

"Uploading the building's blueprint to your helmet, Master."

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x

​

If her sense of self preservation was still remotely intact, the girl may have recoiled. As would most people when confronted with the wall that was the Knight Inquisitor. But in place of rational thought, Capris merely stared back, attempting to hold eye contact with a man whose own eyes were no doubt skewering her. No that she'd be able to tell, considering the only thing reflected in his dark abyss of a mask was herself. Split lip, bruised cheeks and all.

Somewhere behind them, a control panel cracked from exertion, and she fought down a spike of anxiety in response. Vehemently. God forbid she'd project the slightest hint of human reflex out for the world to see. For him to see.

Fortunately for her the cutthroat tension was quick to break, Temerant hacking out his lungs after an uncomfortably long pause. At first the girl simply blinked at the tonal shift, deriving a morsel of satisfaction. He was tiring himself out. Good. She could use that.

Well.. probably.

To her immediate surprise however, the man soon conceded. So swift to turn on his monologue she couldn't help but wonder what manner of divine intervention had taken place. And what exactly she had done to deserve it.

Temerant claimed the Jedi died a noble death, from his lone vantage point of course. Which only made the padawan's jaw tighten, suicidally headstrong as ever.

"She-" was terrified. Terrified of you. You ass. The girl bit her tongue, "She died an unnecessary death. I don't know what good you think you're doing romanticizing it." While it could've been mistaken for typical Jedi doctrine, her words were undercut with a certain depth. Raw and authentic. As if she had certain insight.

And well yeah… living someone's else's death was rather insightful.

Nothing felt noble about it for one. Just pleading. Just hopelessly afraid. She never stood a chance against him. Not for a moment.

"Do not dishonor it."

Her brow pulled together at that statement, even as his attention flaked. He wasn't serious was he. In typical adolescent fashion she muttered something of a comeback under her breath. "Did you or did you not just use it as an accessory in a political assassination. "

Whether or not he took offense, she didn't protest as they moved from the command center and into the fold of whatever remained. The name drop earned a raised eyebrow from the girl however. He had a man on the outside? Sure - Of course he did.

The man was a professional.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

She was brave. He had to give her that. Not many could maintain their composure when faced with the threat that the Knight Inquisitor posed, and yet, she held her ground admirably.

Temerant groaned to her words. "And how the kark would you know that?" he grunted as they made way to the garage, dismissive of her words. "She was a freedom fighter. She opposed governments she deemed corrupt. That lightsaber has killed more than its fair share of political entities, military or otherwise. She just chose to call it justice, instead of retribution," the man explained. "You understand most lightsabers can be set to stun, yes?" he asked her then. "And yet, so often Jedi choose the more terminal option. They decide who is worthy of redemption and who must die. Or is simply 'inconvenient' in their view of the greater good," he grumbled. "I did nothing she would have not wanted to do herself, even if she told herself otherwise. And her death was an inevitability," he grumbled. "If not me, someone else would've gone after her. Someone worse."

Considering that matter settled, as he very much tried not to lose focus as his condition began to worsen, they arrived at the garage. Several airspeeders awaited, including an armoured transport vehicle -no doubt the one in which they'd been brought in- and a number of civilian vehicles, including what appeared to be a delivery van: no doubt something they used to conceal their activities. That, or someone had a day job.

Temerant eyed a sleek looking speeder, yet settled on one that was less eye-catching and had a roof over the seats. "That one," he pointed towards it, before looking at the girl, eyes narrowing behind the helmet in consideration.

"I hope you know how to drive," the man remarked then. "I can't let you go back to the Order. Not yet. You'll set them after me. Try to prevent me from going off-planet," he noted. Not to mention, driving in his state was probably not the brightest idea. "Believe me when I say I like this even less than you do. But if you want to keep breathing, you're going to have to come with me," he grunted. "I'll allow you to shuttle off to some safe location when I'm certain you don't pose a threat any longer. You have my word," he told her.

She had intervened when he needed it most. It didn't matter if they were somewhat even in that regard, killing her now would be the logical thing to do, yet also... distasteful. A stain on his honour. A stupid notion, most Sith would think, but Temerant had never much cared what others thought, and he wasn't going to start now. Reason might rule most of his life, but some things were more important, even if they proved a risk. And no matter how hard anyone tried, they would not take that from him.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x

"And how the kark would you know that?"

The girl opened her mouth as if to rebuke, but quickly thought better of it. The inquisitor already had a near stockpile of information on her. She wasn't going to add to that folder all because she felt some primal impulse to argue with the man at every turn. Now was definitely not the time to clue him in. Of course, there would never be a time if all went according to plan. She'd drop his ass as soon as humanly possible.

Entering the garage, her examination was equally skeptic, thumbing the hilt of her own saber in anticipation. No surprise ambush? Man, Teehlo wasn't kidding. They were chronically short-staffed.

She wasn't allowed time to further assess however, what with Temerant now forcing her to chauffeur. The girl blinked. She was getting kidnapped? Again?

Kahlil would be getting an ear full.

To be fair it was a smart play. No doubt Capris would sick the entirety of the Order on his trail if given the chance. And she'd willingly admit to such too. Lying would be of no use, her sabacc face was no bueno,

The girl watched him for a moment, studying. As if trying to piece together why she was on the receiving end of such an uncharacteristic string of mercy. He was losing grip wasn't he? He needed her. And yet- he didn't seem the type to bank any amount of trust into the hands of well… anyone.

Especially not a Jedi. Who he'd already proved he had no qualms about killing.

"You have my word."

"Right." Her eyebrows bounced in sarcastic unison all while she moved to the bike, swinging a leg over without further prompting. "And that just means the world to me." With one hand settling on the ignition, she revved the engine. As if that was confirmation enough for his question. Of course she was a competent driver.

As competent as one could be without having ever gotten their license that is.

"Try anything and I buck you off." The girl warned. A little more steady in her threat now that Temerant was fading. With that said, she kicked the speeder into motion, freeing them from the garage and subsequent building out into the slums of Coruscant.

They were out. Finally.

It should've been a nice moment, but the padawan found it rather difficult to enjoy the victory with a Sith in tow. By no means was she out of the woods yet. Anything but.

Letting the wind drown out the absolute inner turmoil wrecking her system, the girl abided whatever directions Temerant was sure to bark her way. All in all, helping a Sith escape the wrath of the NJO and Senate alike was not how she expected her day to go.

She'd quite possibly hit rock bottom.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

Temerant got on the back of the bike, grabbing on to the rails beneath his seat. "Hrm. That is a poorly conceived plan," the man noted. "How confident are you that you can buck me off without me putting a lightsaber in your sternum? Or breaking your neck? Or without me pulling you into another speeder before I even hit the ground?" he suggested. "I like my odds better," he concluded.

"Charming as always, Master," the droid remarked.

"Oh, shut up and calculate the best route," Temerant gruffed into the comms.

"Hm. Planning to do a little bit of backseat driving, Master?" the droid suggested.

"Maybe a little," Temerant conceded. "But I'd rather we do not waste time. Guide her," he remarked, as he pulled off his helmet, dettaching it from the rebreather that it locked into.

"Wait. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" X3 asked excitedly.

"Don't be alarmed," the Sith addressed her then. "I'm going to put my helmet on you. It'll help," he explained, before putting the thing over her head. "Don't look back at me," he added in warning.

As the helmet fell into place, it recalibrated. The view from inside was deceptively clear, except for all the visual feedback it began providing, a hud appearing on sight for her detailing a whole plethora of things, including their speed and the projected trajectory of other vehicles.

"OH MY BOLTS AND STARS! NEW USER! NEW USER!" X3 practically wet his chassis, before gaining a measure of composure back. "Ahem! Hi, Miss Halcyon! It is so lovely to meet you! I am X3 Mk 5, and I shall be your guide during this ride!"

With that, a digitally enhanced route appeared on screen.

"Please do not be overwhelmed! It takes just a moment getting used to, but I have faith in you! You've been putting up with Master so far, and that is a considerably more difficult task. But don't mind him too much. He's only a sour-puss on the surface. And in the center. And..."

"I'm still here, X3," the man groaned as he put on a pair of ear-plugs, diving back into the comms system.

"Oh, of course you are, you bloody party pooper," the droid remarked, deflated. "Do you mind? I'm finally interfacing with a new user, and this is a momentous and quite frankly, private moment, Master."

"X3. I've been shot at, smacked, incarcerated and damn nearly exploded. All whilst babysitting a teenager with an attitude problem. Will you, for once, just do your job?" Temerant pleaded, albeit in a demanding tone.

"No boundaries, this one," X3 sighed, clearly addressing the driver.

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x

​

Deciding to forgo a comeback, her lip simply twitched in irritation. His threats could all easily be delivered on, she knew that perfectly well.

Even grievously injured, his odds were better.

"Oh, shut up and calculate the best route,"

"What?" Her brow pulled together at that, as annoyed as she was confused."I didn't say anything." But he hadn't been talking to her of course. A fact she only pieced together moments later.

"Don't be- wait hold on, what?" Voice hiccuping in panic, she nearly echoed X3's own exclamation. If not for the fact her hands were busy steering, the girl may have grabbed his wrist, determined to keep her head free of whatever game the Sith seemed intent on playing. But alas, all she managed to do was haphazardly swerve, mask slipping into place.

Shitshitshitshit.

It was then a voice came to assuage her.

The girl blinked, processing his apparent enthusiasm. This was his guy in the chair? The one who'd just squealed. Damn, talk about whiplash.

"Uh- hi." Was all she managed back, fighting the urge to look over shoulder in apparent confusion. Whatthehellishappening. Whothehellisthis.

Like the droid had assured her however, the disorientation was short-lived, allowing the kid to fully consider the info X3 kept feeding her. Did Temerant seriously let a droid shit-talk him? How.. curious.

Of course the man himself tapped in the very next moment. Seems like there wouldn't be any interfacing to be had. Shame.

"X3. I've been shot at, smacked, incarcerated and damn nearly exploded. All whilst babysitting a teenager with an attitude problem. Will you, for once, just do your job?"

The girl shifted his choice of words, once again stopping herself from turning to dish out a pointed look. He was dead serious about the whole anonymity thing, it was best not to test his limits. So instead she opted to keep her eyes on the road, replying with a shrug of mock sympathy. "Wow, poor thing. Rough day huh?"

The droid's remark however roused a faint huff of amusement. A genuine one.

"Yeah- I gathered. Bit of a control freak eh?"

Following the directions superimposed on the mask, the kid slinked through lane after lane, turning her head in subtle fascination at the feedback. It was admittedly cool, though she'd never own up to such musings. Not to Temerant at least. This was perhaps not the best time to nerd out.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

"Who, Master? Nooooo," the droid replied, following along with the banter. "Just don't leave your toothpaste cap off. Or misplace his tools. Or..."

"Conscienstiousness is not a flaw," Temerant grumbled.

"I would agree if you weren't so picky with what you're conscienstious with," X3 countered. "Trust me, Miss Halcyon. You're entirely fortunate he's not the one driving. It's like he has a deathwish."

"What? I'm an excellent driver," Temerant gruffed.

"That you are, Master. You also seem to think regulations do not apply to you and fly like a hawk-bat on an acid trip," X3 noted.

"I get places fast. That's the whole point," he argued in turn. "Speaking of which, you lean too little into your turns, girl. Don't worry about overshooting. I'll stabilize the weight on my end," he assured her. "ETA?" he demanded then.

"At your current pace, a little under three and a half minutes," the droid pointed out.

"Faster," Temerant urged her, feeling himself slowly become more compromised, his vision blurring some. "The visual aids are useful, but don't trust them overmuch. You know that sensation you have when you're about to be hurt?" he asked. "Give yourself to it. Think less. Let the Force guide you."

"I strongly recommend you do not take his advice, Miss Halcyon..." X3 intervened, a little alarmed by this development.

"Shush, circuit-brains. We'll be fine... Trust me," he concluded, though it was uncertain whether he was addressing the droid, or the girl taking them there.

​

 

[Capris Halcyon]

TAGS: Darth Temerant
Outfit:x

​

Once again X3’s zingers prompted a smile from the girl. Someone’s personality matrix had to be massively skewed. Had he actually been programmed like this?

Silently correcting her position, the girl’s steering grew fluid, syncing her body with the break-neck roll of the bike. He’d been right, she had been holding back. But verbalizing as much was simply too tall of an order. This wasn’t exactly a joyride. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

Clearly unsatisfied, the Knight Inquisitor urged her further, and for what felt like the millionth time the girl fought the impulse to glance back. Not so much out of genuine concern, but rather the fear having roughly 200 pounds slip off her bike mid acceleration.

“If I wanted pointers, I’d have asked.” the girl leveled.

“I know you’re desperate but you’re not getting anywhere If we’re both dead.” Despite her words the girl seemed to take note, speeding ever so slightly as she stopped abiding by the map and rather gave into reflex. Whether to goad fate (or because it was really the only way her frustration could safely manifest itself) she did in fact go faster.

Fast enough to shave off a good minute or two from the projected time that is. It was only then, on the cusp of their destination, she finally slowed her roll. Letting gravel spit against the metal all while a boot dropped to solid ground.

Without invitation to do so, the girl slid off, losing the helmet.

“We should ditch the speeder.” She reasoned, shrugging as she held the mask between her palms, “It’s probably chipped for all we know. Doubt we’ve slipped off their radar yet.”

Keeping her head carefully angled away, eyes trained on the floor, she offered up the mask with an outstretched hand. “You can limp the rest of the way, right?” Again, it was less of a question and more of a jab.

 

[Darth Temerant]

TAGS: Capris Halcyon
​

"Not bad," Temerant conceded as they came to a stop, the man seeming to have enjoyed the ride (or as much as his condition allowed) even as X3 had kept his breath baited. One of them was bad enough. Now there were two maniacs behind the controls.

He snatched the helmet, putting it back on with a grunt of satisfaction. Much better. It was apparent that the man appreciated his anonimity.

"You have a good head on your shoulders. You would make a fine operative, with the right training," he conceded. "Shame about all the snark and fragile ideology," he jabbed right back. "Come along now. And don't try anything funny."

***​

Temerant led them to a hangar which... Well. Should not be there. There went one of his safe sites.

His ship wasn't, perhaps, what one might expect. It was an unassuming... Well, piece of junk. The kind of small-time cruiser which made its way into Coruscant all the time. The door opened for a black droid to greet them inside, crimson orbs glowing with excitement. He was reminiscent of a protocol droid, and had a rather modern look to it, and yet, there was a distinctive DIY quality about his design.

"Miss Halcyon! Welcome to the..."

"Ship that shall remain unidentified," Temerant gruffed. The inside wasn't anything particularly remarkable, either: nothing you wouldn't find in a regular spacer's ship.

"Ah, yes, of course. Sorry Master. It's just so unusual for us to have a guest that is not a business associate," he pointed out.

"That's quite enough X3," Temerant gruffed. "Set course for our main vessel," he instructed. "I want us out of this planet yesterday," he noted.

"After the death of the senator, we might have some trouble getting out without scrutiny, Master. And there is a young and might I say, talented padawan currently missing," X3 pointed out.

"Burn through identity four," the man instructed as he took off his jacket with a groan, hanging it.

"In this ship?" the droid asked, perplexed.

"It has enough clearance to get through without a hassle, and by the time the people with the right paygrade have a thorough look at it, we'll be long gone."

The droid let out what almost seemed like a genuine sigh. "That's a shame. We went through so much trouble to set it up..."

"In case something like this happened," the man noted with a shrug, motioning to Capris. "Cockpit's this way. Keep your sabers where I can see them. And if you so much as think about using the force, I will make your skull collapse into your brain," his assertiveness much too casual for the threat to ring empty. "I have a medical droid that will tend to your injuries when we arrive."

X3 joined the youth. "Oh, you'll just love it at home. We have so many amenities! And Mr. Brooding over there barely makes use of them. Spends the bloody day training or in his workshop. Often both! Don't ask me how that works, you force-sensitives are remarkable. I'd love to perform an autopsy on one of you, take a gander at how your brains work, but Master won't let me..."

"X3..." Temerant groaned as he began tapping buttons in the console.

"What?!" the droid complained. "It's for science!"

"It's morbid," the actual assassin countered.

"Morbidly scientific!" X3 pushed, showing a seat to Capris. "If you'd be so kind, Miss Halcyon."