Specters

[Vaemond]

WELCOME TO CATO NEMOIDIA

The bright neon lights of the starport flooded Vaemond's eyes as he slowly exited the shuttle, carrying his meager belongings in his sack and moving with the line as they slowly moved through processing. It had been years since Vaemond had set foot on this planet, yet it remained as opulent and lucrative as ever. He knew of the criminal procedeings that ran this world and the trade guilds that watched his every move. He knew that the security guard ahead most likely had a device giving him all the intel he would ever need on Vaemond, not that it would be much help. As a backwater, it's likely the guard had never heard the name Zakuul outside of a single passing mention in a Galactic History class. To Vaemond, this was a blessing. It made it easier to blend in.

As a scholar Vaemond had become adept at faking identification and learning to assume different personas for different crowds. Here, he would be Yoral, a visiting scholar researching the gladitorial argot that had developed in the arenas around the hanging cities. With such a vast galaxy it would be nearly impossible to prove the credentials he provided wrong. An ID card from his time at the University of Alderaan, a "grant" for proof, and his identification card. Here, he was not a Jedi. For what he was doing he could not be.

It had been only a couple of months since Vaemond had joined the Silver Jedi. His knowledge of the force and Jedi traditions from his previous studies had granted him the rank of Knight quickly, giving him great freedom in terms of travel and study. The philosophy and the vibe all felt right, but Vaemond couldn't shake the feeling that something else was calling to him. A purpose, something he had already perfected but yet couldn't put to use. As a traveler he had mastered many languages and studied many cultures, making it easy for him to surprise the guard with his knowledge of Nemoidian, as rudimentary as it was. Impressed, the guard let Vaemond slip by without searching his sack, inside which he contained his lightsaber and counterfeit credits.

He had heard rumors, whispers at the temple of a figure that had suddenly appeared one day at the temple. People said they traveled from place to place, keeping track of the order's enemies and allies alike. Using patterns of reports and rumor circulation, Vaemond had deduced that the next target would be a world more towards the fringes of the Order's reach, to send a message. To bring peace. Cato Nemoidia was not a world that would give up its traditions so easily, especially when they had so much to gain from them. As Vaemond navigated the hanging city he found time beginning to blur as he traveled deeper and deeper, passing through the financial district, the industrial sector, and entertainment zone, and eventually the worker's quarters. It was here that the underpaid, indebted workers festered under the weight of oppressive trade monopolies. Some of these families had been here for centuries, knowing no other future than the trade guilds. "Here." Vaemond thought. It was here he would find what he was looking for. No, not what, who. A grimy, run down bar caught Vaemond's eye as he realized he hadn't eaten nor drank during his long journey through the city. Assuming a gruff, frustrated appearance Vaemond entered and took a seat.

"Blue milk." Vaemond said, half slurred. The act was the most important part.

And now, the wait begins. He would know when they arrived when he heard the force speak to him again, as it had done when he heard the rumors.

[member="Ilwynog Cysgod"]

 

[Ilwynog Cysgod]

Whispers had reached them that someone was looking for them. Someone had been talking and investigating their presence around the temple, however Ilwynog was not worried by this. They had plenty of practice in others attempting to contact them, find them and figure out their identity but they were careful. Planning for anything and everything. Cloaking their Force presence, they remained invisible to the Force, just another in the masses. It was a power that was crucial for a spy, a thief, a criminal to learn, many times they had shown fellow criminals the importance of being a stealthy person would grant them superiority in fights and other areas. They entered the planet, Ilwynog had no need for passing guards with ID. Cato Nemoidia was not a world free of a black market, criminals and smugglers, pay the right people the right amount then you could enter a secure planet with a full arsenal of weapons, armour and without the need of fake identification would could be figured out.

Ilwynog adjusted their cloak, covering their armour and helmet as they wandered through the dark alleys of the planet. It was easy to spot the black market areas which Ilwynog made a mental note to remember when they could visit at a later date, for now, they were focusing on their mission. The person who was searching for them had come to this planet expecting to surprise them but they would be surprising this new person. Ilwynog flew under the radar for many years only deciding to rise up as a skilled criminal and spy in more recent months, so it was curious to have someone wanting to approach them.

Wandering through the city, they arrived at a cantina, looking around spotting the target who was looking for them. They kept to the shadows and remained distant, curious to see what this person's skill set would be. Interested in seeing if they would be useful for the group that Ilwynog was organising, it was a group to allow Ilwynog to extend his reach and learn more. They sat at a table and leaned back into the shadows, watching and waiting to see if this new person could keep a persona going or if someone would find them out.

[member="Vaemond"]

 

[Vaemond]

An hour had yet passed and still nothing. Vaemond had kept himself low, making sure to not look around the room and keeping his head low. His drink sat half drunk as he waited, people coming and going through the cantina. As the night grew darker, the seedier crowd had begun to pour in. In what seemed like an instant, the bar stool he had been sitting at was crowded with people of various species hooting and howling, playing music and singing songs as the drinks kept flowing. Crowds had never been a problem for Vaemond, having been raised communally he was used to this sort of situation.

"A test, perhaps." Vaemond thought to himself, realizing he hadn't felt a thing in the hours he had been here. Though he could be wrong about his assumption, his intuition felt that this had to be the place to be. Until, suddenly, Vaemond realized he would not be able to see or feel this person's presence. A figure such as them would be a shadow, a fly on the wall. A flicker of light which quickly vanished. Irritating, sure, but Vaemond figured he could find a way to draw the figure out. Keep calm, act, casual don't get too-

"You're in my seat." A voice bellowed from behind. Rhodian, the man was speaking Rhodian. Vaemond could tell from the voice that the man wasn't Rhodian but a human who had presumably been raised with it.

"'Scuse me?" Vaemond replied back, his speech slurred and his face showing a manner of agitation. His Rhodian was rusty, but good enough to get through this basic conversation. As long as things didn't turn towards starships and engineering he would be fine.

"I said you're in my seat. If you know what's good for you you'll gimmie the seat and the drink." The man held a small blaster to Vaemond's side, poking his ribs. "Say, what's a man in clothes like thems doing in parts like theses?"

Vaemond could sense the situation was getting tense. People around him were beginning to notice, some of whom would take the chance to rob Vaemond blind if he let them. He knew he could overpower the room if he had to, he could make the man walk away with a wave of his hand. Then he would cause a scene, someone would notice. Someone would say something. He had to keep still, lay low, play it cool.

"Jus' business. 'S all yours man, take some for the road." Vaemond slowly stumbled up and passed the counterfeit credits to the table, giving the man the seat and walking to an empty booth. The man quickly returned to his drinking and talking with his friends, using the credits to buy a round. From his new vantage point, Vaemond scoured the room with both his eyes and the force, noticing no one in particular. Determined, Vaemond allowed the music to flow into his head, remembering his time undercover for his family.

"Be where they will least expect you but you are most obvious."

Another drink came over and Vaemond returned to nursing, ordering two to give the impression he was waiting for someone else. In a sense, he was, though he didn't know who.

[member="Ilwynog Cysgod"]

 

[Ilwynog Cysgod]

Watching quietly, they noticed the drunk human talking Rodian, interesting combination but then they had learnt a large range of languages, it was necessary when your clients often didn't speak Galactic Basic. They watched the interaction, knowing the credits had to be fake, with the knowledge they knew of this new person, giving away that much in credits meant that the chances were they were fake more than they were real. It was a risk, a very dangerous risk, someone else would figure out they were fake and then there would be a lot of trouble and attention. Something Ilwynog was not looking for personally, instead, it seems they would have to introduce themselves in order to leave the establishment and lower the chances of being caught out on the deception that Vaemond used. Leaning back, they watched Vaemond a while longer, taking in the new position and his attempts of appearing to be waiting on someone was interesting tactic. Especially since there was a element of truth to what he was doing.

Before Ilwynog rose, the bartender approached to bawdy human Rodian, confronting him about the fake credits. While sleazy, the more sleazy the place, the more cautious they tend to be about fake credits since it was much more common for people to try using them. Ilwynog would have saved the fake credits for a fancier establishment since they were less likely to question you, especially when you dress rich. Ilwynog rose to their feet and wandered over to Vaemond, their voice changer changing their voice to be deep and unrecognisable with no accent or identifiable tone. "We must leave, they have figured out your credits were fake. We need to leave now, there is somewhere else we can go to lay low." Ilwynog ordered Vaemond as they gestured to the human Rodian and his friends getting annoyed and rising to their feet.

Ilwynog approached the group with hands out in a passive gesture. "Gentlemen, my associate here was just leaving, I am sure he didn't mean anything by the fake credits. Sure we must have been swindled out of some real credits." Ilwynog commented as they moved closer but the group did not look in a good mood, the human Rodian swinging his fist at Ilwynog who ducked to one side and countered with a hard jab to the side and threw him into another group of drunks who got the cantina into a full bar fight. Perfect. Bar fight meant they had an ideal cover to duck out. They grabbed Vaemond and gestured to him the door. "Lets go now, while we have the chance."

[member="Vaemond"]

 

[Vaemond]

And just like clockwork everything fell into place.

After the time spent waiting, finally someone appeared. Vaemond knew the scene was only moments from getting intense, all attention turning towards his part of the room. If his target hadn't been at the bar, they had to be over here. Sure enough, someone, or something, appeared and told Vaemond they had to leave. Vaemond initially laughed to himself, thinking the situation was more or less under control, no need to worry. It was until he saw the size of the group and the anger on their faces that he realized he may have made a grave mistake in his deception. Vaemond nodded and got up, following the figure to the exit of the bar. As they passed the now angered group, Vaemond watched quickly as the scene completely unraveled and the two quietly left through the door, remaining completely inconspicuous.

"I figured you'd show up. Apologies for the inconvenience, I just needed a way to catch your attention."

Vaemond had no idea who this figure was nor what they knew about him. The less he said, the better. He ruffled his hair and stuffed his jacket into his sack, rolling up his sleeves and donning a more working class look. Now they needed to blend in, now they were targets.

But then again, how else could Vaemond know this person was who he thought they were? If they couldn't get them out of this, then perhaps Vaemond had been mistaken.

[member="Ilwynog Cysgod"]

 

[Ilwynog Cysgod]

Ilwynog lifted their hood more over their helmet to hide their armour, the tattered robes giving the air of a homeless person on hard times. Only their armour that gave a hint that they were something more than someone homeless. Guiding Vaemond through the streets, Ilwynog pulled him in close then pinned him into a shadow, listening out for the mob that was rushing around searching for them. They knew in time that the mob would give up the search, something else was always more important and more drink to guzzle down. After awhile things quieten down, Ilwynog stepped away from Vaemond and shook their head.

"Well, there were plenty of other ways to gain my attention. Seems you are still learning how to be a Jedi Shadow, your Force signature isn't hidden and your skills could use some work. I can help you become better, to be one with the shadows if you want to learn. If you are here to just find out who is under the helmet then you be sorely disappointed. I am Ilwynog Cysgod, and that is all you need to know." Ilwynog's tone was firm through the voice changer. They were hidden from anything identifiable for their safety and to do the best work they can.

Looking around, "if being a Jedi Shadow is what interests you, here is a safe place for us to meet and discuss it more once again." Ilwynog hands the man an address and then vanishes into the shadows. Hiding their presence in the Force and their physical appearance.

[member="Vaemond"]