Private The Pursuers

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Nathan's Robes

Armed With: Nathan's Training Lightsaber, Ionised Stun Pistol (3 Reloads)

Equipment: Ammo Belt

Arrived in: Silverlark Shuttle, Energy Shield Cybernetic Arm




Earlier, aboard the Atrisian Pathfinder ...


Nathan stared at his newborn son Grendel Percival Bloodscrawl, sleeping in his crib. It had been a long a difficult birth. His wife was still recovering, feeding on energy.

The Baby was human, genetically speaking. But considering who his mother was, Nathan knew complications would arise down the road.

For the first time, genuine terror had re-entered his life.

It had been so long since he had felt genuine fear that it was like feeling it for the first time ever.

To be fair, he also felt genuine, unreserved joy...and that too, was foreign, almost...

Vera Mina , his wife, slept in the large bed next to the crib.

They were among the wealthiest sentients in the Galaxy, and he was still utterly terrified about how to protect a baby going forward, especially while maintaining his low level position in the NJO, doing as little to draw attention to himself as possible.

Perhaps... perhaps it was time for a fresh start...

Nathan's hand hesitantly went out to softly rest on his son's head.

The pain of losing Julia to the Cult hit fresh and nasty. He withdrew his hand. He would not lose his son like he had lost Julia. He would fight the universe itself to keep his family alive.

He would root out the entire cult.

There was a soft beep in the comm terminal installed in their room.

Nathan withdrew from the crib and went over to the terminal.

His artificial 'older' sister, Meleena Bloodscrawl showed on the holoprojector. She had been doing business for the family in Naboo the past few days. She wore a shiny red catsuit, seemingly an ingrained programming holdover of her status as a female model Nuetralizer.

"Meleena. How are you?" Nathan asked quietly.

"Is this line secure?" Meleena asked.

Nathan punched in a few commands.

"Now it is..." He replied. "Go ahead."

"Been setting up the franchise on Naboo, as per your request. Got a permit for a small Bacta-Works Outlet...but I started hearing rumors..."

"What sort of rumors?" Nathan asked.

"That there is a Dark Sider on Naboo... looking to make a hit on a member of the Royal Court..."

This got Nathan's attention. He had been having strange dreams about that planet for days now...

"How likely is it that the rumors are true?" Nathan asked.

Even Naboo has its criminal element. When members of that element all start chirping similar things, I tend to pay attention." Meleena replied.

"Hmmm...target?"

"A member of the Ee'everwest Family. Some guy named Saida. Advises the Court on crop yields in Naboo's countryside."

Nathan was silent a moment...

"Nate?" Meleena asked.

"Sounds like an excuse for me to go to Naboo..." Nathan trailed. "I'll handle it...I don't want you anywhere near the Royal Court..."

"Gotcha..." she replied, cutting contact.

Nathan went over to his wife.

"Vera..." he called out softly...

Vera's eyes fluttered open.

"What is it, husband?" she asked with her own voice and that of every personality swimming inside her.

"Some interesting business came to Naboo..." Nathan said. "Feel like staying there a couple of days while I...sort things out?"

Vera smiled. Nathan smiled back.

Present.

His primary artificial Sister, Melissa Bloodscrawl , had flown him on a silverlark shuttle from the private vessel to Naboo.

"Y'know, Nate..." Melissa said as she piloted down to the planet. "I've been thinking ... perhaps the time has come for a change..."

"Oh?" he asked her.

"Think about it. You won't be able to keep your subterfuge going with the Alliance forever. Eventually you will be found out. No one can hide being the CEO of a major corporation forever. Let alone your other clandestine activities..." She stated plainly. "Maybe it's time for you to withdraw from personal activity in the Alliance. Go somewhere they never heard of you. Even by your own admission, you are starting to be noticed..."

Nathan sighed.

"I have considered it. But where would I put down roots? The High Republic?"

"Why not?" Melissa asked rhetorically. "They have a functional Jedi Sect here. Maybe the time has come to at least stop hiding how powerful you are..."

Nathan was silent at her response as she landed.

Melissa, dressed in a pink cocktail dress, handed him his passport and visitor's pass for a tour being conducted. More detailed information from Meleena had hinted that the hit on Saida was to be conducted today...

"Good luck, Nate..." Melissa wished sincerely.

"Thanks." He said, hugging her before stepping off the shuttle to foil a potential attempt on someone's life.

Wandering the streets of Naboo felt... bizarre...too open. Too clean. He almost preferred the controlled chaos of the massive city planets. Too exposed. Easier to focus on anomalies.

Like himself.

He considered Melissa's words as he headed to the palace. He wasn't sure...but they still struck a chord.

He was checked for weapons as he entered the area where the palace was. The guards checked his passport.

"Alliance, huh? You're a long way from Coruscant. Here for the tour, I see..." The guard said, scanning him.

"Non-lethal...huh..." The guard noted. "Cheap ass clothes... nothing illegal though...go on in...stick to the tour, though..."

Nathan nodded, absolutely NOT intending to do that. He joined the large group as they entered the Royal Palace, listening to the tour guide as they were led past the front gates. The guide immediately began blathering on about architecture details but the only thing Nathan was concerned about was finding the target that was to be attacked...

As they walked at a slow pace through the Palace, he spotted Saida in the distance, a large, well muscles man with a beard in flowing green clothes, carrying a stack of the latest reports to another area of the palace in the distance.

Why do they want YOU dead? he thought to himself before rounding a corner with the tour group, cloaking himself with the Force during the turn around the corner and doubling back down the round.

There were reasons he had gone in with non-lethal weapons and cheap clothes. One was to not arouse suspicion with fancy, high end gear. The second was that he wouldn't be mistaken for an assassin himself if he failed and they interrogated him in the aftermath...

Nathan silently followed the man past the guards and scanners, invisible to the world around him...

Kyric

Jonathan Washburne

 

[Jonathan Washburne]

Equipment: Hallikset, saber (hidden in vest), boot knife
A brilliant array of blues, greens, yellows and oranges cast long colorful shadows across the beautifully constructed sprawling courtyard that marked the entrance of Naboo's Royal Palace. Johnathan stood apart from the crowd, as they went to and from, with his newsboy cap laying on the ornate steps in front of him. In his hands was a fine seven stringed hallikset as he played traditional Naboo folk music. For the past week he'd cemented himself as a traveling musician with the palace staff and security. He drank with the guards in the evening and flattered the others during the day. The most surprising aspect to his youthful training had been just how far one could get with a song, sung or otherwise. Especially when you took the time to learn the local color. He dressed as was expected for a traveler and a muscian of his nature. Dark simple clothing, functional.


The sky shown with brilliant hues as the first hints of evening began to show itself to Theed. Soon the crowds would disperse, the Palace would begin to wind down like an engine. Then he'd make his way to where Saida slept and end his life. John liked to keep things somewhat civilized, and there weren't alot of ways to get at the man till the evening hours that wouldn't involve more trouble than would be worth it. So for now he played, patiently waiting for the sun to lower behind the green domes of Theed's classically constructed skyline. What a wonder it was to John, these people, that they'd managed to maintain their heritage for such a long time, what a love they had for one another. Jonathan reviled in that as he played, vicariously living off the echoes of joys he'd never know as the locals nodded along.

Kyric Nathan Bloodscrawl

 

[Kyric]

Against all reason, Kyric stood within a tiny apartment tucked away into the servant quarters of the Royal Palace of Theed. The room was a small, five by face space with a twin bed, wooden chair, and cold durasteel desk. A sliding door constructed to the left of the desk acted as a closet where the kiffar stored his few meager belongings; an old poncho and a sleek Atrisian katana.

He suspected such accommodations were presented solely due to his newfound connections to Aurelian Veruna.

The Prince of Parrlay proved not only his resourcefulness, but also the extent of his reach. To so easily place Kyric, an outsider to Naboo, within the heart of the Monarchy spoke volumes of House Veruna and its dangerous heir.

For nearly a week, Kyric played the role of a hopeful mercenary auditioning to join the next Queen's Royal Guard. Whatever papers the Prince doctored earned Kyric's place among the candidacy.

The kiffar scarcely struggled to stay ahead of the fellow hopefuls. His careful use of the Force saw him in the top three performers within most exercises. But it was the danger scenarios themselves where the young Jedi shone. His keen intellect and raw tenacity saw him outpace the others time and time again.

After another long day of written and physical tests, Kyric retired to his room.

Only a few short hours into his rest Kyric was awoken by a soft buzzing from his transceiver atop the desk. He groaned loudly and pushed himself out of bed with the grace and etiquette of a toddler.

The holo-communicator built into the desk whirred to life as Kyric slid into his chair. Soft blue-white light projected the daily update following another round of tests:

Leaderboard

First Place: Kyric Karis - 148 Points
Second Place: Sohl Do'Ori - 126 Points
Third Place: Monroe Hellick - 104 Points
Fourth Place: Torbi-Torbi - 90 Points
Fifth Place: D'shall Kastern - 83 Points

All other applicants have been disqualified for not reaching the eighty point threshold. Tomorrow marks the final day of tests. Only three of you will successfully join the ranks of the Royal Guard. Good luck.
​

"Sheesh," Kyric mumbled. "I figured we'd have more time than that." He tapped the device and it deactivated, taking both the light and its contents away. He considered slipping back into bed to continue his rest, but decided against it. Instead, the kiffar withdrew his father's old poncho from the closet and wrapped it around his athletic frame.

"Let's see what the mess is servin' for grub." Kyric strode out from his apartment and took to the palace halls in search of dinner.

---

Tags: Nathan Bloodscrawl | Jonathan Washburne
Honorable Mentions: Aurelian Veruna

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

(THIS Plays)


So far, Nathan had been following Saida around and couldn't figure out why this man would be a target of anyone. Saida didn't seem particularly shady. If anything, he seemed rather bland and a bit insular.

Nathan had grown in his power, such that he was able to keep the stealth field up with relatively minimal focus. He glided past security. If he had wanted to end Saida himself, it would have been almost too easy to pull off.

A shove down the stairs. A used banana peel where he was walking. A puddle and an electric cable that snapped off by accident. Poison in the food. A chandelier coming loose and falling on him. Real Agent 47 chit. The possibilities were almost endless.

Nathan kept a look out for anyone or anything out of place. He checked the guards he passed by. All comfortable. Nothing out of place. No one who looked like they didn't belong. He noticed a security office nearby as Saida stopped to complain to a Palace technician about the air conditioning in his office. Not harshly, more annoyed than anything.

Nathan noticed a case of smoke grenades on a shelf in the office. The officers were outside, apparently listening to a Palace official complaining about some contraband they had found. Glitterstim, by the sound of it.

Nathan, keeping his eye on the guards, making sure no cameras or sensors were in the office, sneakily opened the case while still invisible and plucked a grenade out, putting it in his robe, closing the case, and only moving when Saida moved again.

He stuck to Saida like a fly on...you know what I mean. He followed him all the way into his lavish office. Nathan was silent, watching from the corner, studying Saida, trying to figure out what he could have done that would have resulted in a hit being put out on him.

Saida worked silently, occasionally sipping a glass of cold fruit juice from a crystal goblet that a waiter droid brought him as he looked over his papers.

Just then, there was a beeping on the communication holoprojector. Saida sighed visibly and hit the respond button.

Nathan watched as a portly man in expensive looking flowing gold robes with a mustache appeared on the projector plate.

Saida sighed again. "I told you, Mercurio. My decision is final."

"And I say again, Saida, that you have overreacted to a simple business decision." The man called Mercurio said.

"There was no overreaction. The samples of your grape crops on your automated farms revealed non-approved genetic modifications to make them grow faster. There is no way of knowing how that will affect public health. I have it on good authority that some people have already been hospitalized due to drinking wine and brandy made from those grapes. Severe, crippling stomach cramps, even compromised immune systems." Saida said to Mercurio, straightening his papers.

"You shouldn't have outsourced your seed stock. Especially not from bloody Nar Shaddaa..." Saida lectured.

"Saida, see reason!" Mercurio protested, starting to get visibly agitated. "The fines that would be imposed on my farms would ruin my business! Is it truly my fault some people might have a weak constitution for strong drink?!"

"I don't normally fault people being cheap with their crop sources. Happens all the time on Naboo. What I do fault is blatantly ignoring minimum standards of quality by not making sure their product won't leave someone in agony just from a small sip." Saida replied crossly. "I'm sorry, Mercurio. It's nothing personal. But your grapes are dangerous. As long as your product remains on the market, people's lives are potentially at risk. I have to make an example of you. My report will be made to her majesty tomorrow. You are free to dispute my findings in court. But I have amassed proper evidence. Your lack of discretion has left me with little other choice then to recommend your farms be shut down utterly as a public health hazard. I'm afraid trying to appeal to me in private won't work. Good day."

"And you leave me with little other choice but to do everything in my power to stop you from destroying what I have worked so hard for. Good day." Mercurio replied curtly before cutting transmission...

Bingo, Nathan thought to himself, watching Saida scoff at Mercurio's reply.

Nathan was incredibly patient, watching Saida go through his whole day until the sun started to set. Saida began to yawn, clearly ready to go to bed. Nathan watched him eat a light meal before going into a changing room and coming out in his night clothes, heading into another room adjacent to his office.

Nathan followed him in. He wasn't sure what sort of assassin would be headed his way. But his training saber had been surreptitiously modified in such a way that while it could cut through armor it could only stun organics.

No one would be able to accuse Nathan of coming here looking to draw blood.

He waited in a far corner of the room, waiting until everything turned dark as Saida got ready for bed.

No wife. No child. Nathan found himself pitying the man. It was like his job was all he lived for. Saida didn't even seem to enjoy his luxury all that much.

As the shadows began to grow long in the room and Saida finally went to bed, Nathan waited. If there was ever a time to take him out, it was now. This was the exact moment Nathan himself would have struck if he wanted to get to Saida with as little risk as possible...

As he waited for any would be assassin, Nathan found his thoughts drifting back to his own family...

It was starting to become impossible to be the cold, brutal man he had been when getting revived in this era. He was doing good most times because he genuinely wanted to, not out of some ingrained obedience to the family directives. He found himself wanting to save Saida to make his family proud...

These feelings scared him because he didn't know how to deal with them. Didn't know how to deal with not being a cold shell of a man.

But he was trying. That had to count for something...

Kyric

Jonathan Washburne

 

[Jonathan Washburne]

Jonathan pocketed the credits that folks has placed in his hat and headed off towards the tavern frequented by the Naboo Palace Guard as the last rays of sunlight sunk beneath the tidy city skyline. He whistled as he walked, instrument sling behind him as he merrily went about his way. One performance had ended, another to begin immediately after, then another following this one. The work of the Dark was ceaseless, ever welcoming. It was something his Masters appreciated, his work ethic, though he'd developed it out of necessity. For him, work and leisure offered the same things, so why not work?

The small crowd at the tavern welcomed him with large smiles. He'd played regularly throughout the week and had quickly made himself a half regular with his good natured attitude towards the patrons and guards. After a couple pints he switched to water, and feigned that he was drinking liqour from a flask in his coat pocket. Wanting to drink just enough to not arouse suspicion of his lack of drinking, while maintaing sobriety. This went on for a four hours, long enough for the moon to rise high in the dark blue summer sky. John stumbled to his room, a small corner in the upper levels of the tavern, just barely apart from the noise of the crowd below. Fully playing up the role of drunkard for those who saw him. With a bit of luck, he might even be able to return one day.

He bolted the door behind him and laid his instrument on the bed, opening a hidden compartment along it's next and retrieving his lightsaber. New. The metal beneath seemed to shine under the black handgrip, far superior to his hand than the one he'd scavenged before his training, the one created by a servant of the light. His saber had seemed to collect a part of his essence, his cold politeness and murderous intent seeming to communicate both through it's ordered design. He smiled as he placed it into a small pouch on his right hip, disguising the weapon as a string cleaner, something he'd often wore while playing. The assasin reslung his Hallikset, then out his window he went, smelling mildly of booze, looking as he'd intended, like a drunken musician.

John moved in a practiced manner across the Naboo tile, slinking like a cat as he hopped across the roof, towards a back alley. A small black cat eyed him curiously as he slid down a copper drainage pipe, it's surface still slightly warm from the beaming sun that had beamed upon it the entire day. The cat hadn't seen any of the humans act that way before, particularly to lower themselves into a narrow corridor. "What an odd creature" the cat thought to itself before turning it's attention to a small rodent scittering down the other end of the alley.

The walk to the palace's servants entrance was pleasent enough, not a soul out at that time. The local patrolsmen took no note of him. It wasn't an odd thing to see a singular drunken musician or artist solitarily wandering the city, musing at the architecture or the beautiful, star filled Theed sky. That bit stung John in a hard way. He didn't like taking advantage of that aspect of Naboo's character. But he had his orders and the cold voice in the cave in his mind urged him onward. "Thy will be done." He muttered as he moved. The palace loomed above in all it's ornate glory as he watched the servant's entrance from a shadowed corner. He glanced at his watch and waited silently another fifteen minutes, taking in the silence of the area, the lack of security. He waited again. A patrolman and their partner walked past, slowly making their rounds, gossiping about some drama within their ranks. John only watched as they made their way past and he then approached the door, fishing a single key from his pocket that he'd stolen from the gardner earlier in the week. He walked silently, and like he was supposed to be there and made his way along the corridor leading to the residences, where he target should be sleeping. Ahead a flash of light illuminated the darkened hallway and John pressed himself against a ornate piller as another guard lazily strolled past, whistling as he did. The assassin slinked out and up the stairs towards Saida's office and adjoining living space, silently entering the office and bolt locking the door behind him. He felt outward in the force as he did, feeling Saida sleeping in the other room and....... a hint of something else. John placed his instrument on the man's decorated desk shifting the objects on it slightly with a quiet rattle. He put his lightsaber in his hand, unactivated but at a low ready of sorts. Was someone really trying to protect this fool?

John smiled widely as he approached the closed bedroom door and pushed it open silently, Saidi's bed was line up almost perfectly with the door and John waited, leaving the door just sitting open as the target snoozed.

Nathan Bloodscrawl Kyric

 

[Kyric]

There was a certain pleasantness to be found in the empty halls of the Royal Palace after sunset. An ordered-chaos settled over palace and its denizens from dawn to dusk, as if each day carried a million different problems for the Queen and her dignitaries. Simple servants raced from room to room weighed down by books and/or datapads. Guards positioned throughout the hall added to the madness, crowding the wild space with feelings of trepidation and mistrust.

Kyric found the day-to-day of life here an ordeal, which didn't bode well for him given the stupid tryouts destined to place him beside the queen-to-be; Sibylla Antares—assuming she won the election, of course. If not, the kiffar expected Aurelian to send him off to pursue another means of connection to the young Lady.

Then again, the Prince of Parrlay was just as likely to drop Kyric back in prison and throw away the key.

"How do I end up in these fethin' situations?" Kyric asked the empty corridor.

Passing across a tall window cut into the sculpted stone, Kyric caught a glimpse of a silhouette move from the shadow of an awning toward the servant's entrance. He didn't think much of it and continued on; only coming to a halt a few feet from the mess. His single-eye closed in a slow blink—or wink, the kiffar still wasn't sure how to address that—and he pivoted on his heel back the way he came. Arriving at the window a moment later, Kyric tried and failed to discern anyone else out there in the darkness.

Unsure why he even returned to the window, Kyric shook his head and turned to depart; until he caught sight of tiny fractures interwoven across the servant's entrance. The little fissures were an indication of a Shatterpoint, as Jedi Knight Tyrus Vastor once explained to him. And from what Kyric perfectly recalled with his eidetic memory, such points in the Force were often a great cause for concern. Rarely did they manifest without purpose; a purpose he could not ignore.

Kyric released a heavy sigh. "It never ends." He scanned the hall in both directions to ensure he was alone, then unlatched the giant window with a faint thunk. The kiffar climbed out into the crisp evening air and dropped down to the street with little fanfare. Another cursory glance confirmed no one was watching him, so he hurried over to the same entrance the silhouette took and Kyric pressed his bare palm against the handle.

A flash of an unfamiliar face appeared within Kyric's mind.

The stranger slipped the keycard into the terminal with the confidence of one who belonged there. But his attire revealed otherwise. The man—a musician of some sort if Kyric had to guess—was not employed by any of the Royal Advisory Council. Those in their employ were some of the first of the palace denizens the Jedi committed to memory.

"Who the hell are you?" Kyric asked aloud. Drawing out his own keycard, he swiped it through the security terminal and stalked into the western passages provided to the help. He overheard a pair of servants discussing the convenience of such specialty corridors before. They claimed it made traversing the palace quickly and quietly a simple affair. Kyric initially thought those were the musings of a lower class forced to cope with their lot in life, but the swiftness with which he followed the stranger's echo changed the kiffar's stance immediately.

In minutes, Kyric scaled up a few sets of stairs and stepped out from the servant's tunnel and into a long hallway reserved for those appointed to the Naboo Royal Advisory Council.

He was rapidly starting to regret leaving his sword in his room.

---

Tags: Nathan Bloodscrawl | Jonathan Washburne

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan watched Saida like a hawk, watching him twitch and snooze and mutter in his sleep. He had begun to wonder if perhaps the assassin had not found a way in after all...

But he knew better, deep down. If he could find a way in, then so could the would be killer.

He had occupied the wait time, just deciding what to do to protect Saida specifically. He had worked out something of a strategy...he considered simply teleporting Saida out of the killer's reach but that would be risky since he wasn't that familiar with the layout of the palace and had gained only a passing understanding of its interior. The ability could be...wonky if teleporting another in an unfamiliar area. Probably best to protect him the old fashioned way.

His thoughts drifted back to his family. How empty his vast wealth would have seemed to him without their presence.

Nathan was slowly starting to realize that, somehow, the pain didn't sting as much.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that. For a while, cold anger had been all that had pushed him on. The hunt for The Cult a borderline psychopathic obsession.

But getting a family had changed him, slowly, but surely. The bloodthirsty creature Vera had been had somehow gotten past all his armor. And he in turn, had somehow gotten past hers.

He certainly hadn't expected to be given artificial sisters by her as a wedding gift, for instance. Yet now he had latched onto the three Bloodscrawl Sisters in such a way that he somehow couldn't imagine life without them either...

Then of course, there was his adopted son and daughter, Thel and Draco. And his newborn son. Having something to live for was terrifying to him. It motivated him...but he still was coming to grips with the fact he was... different.

When the door opened, it was almost silent. Nathan knew it wasn't staff. Staff would have been much more noisy. Wasn't security, either.

Nathan watched from a corner in the room a few seconds. He had noted the safety measures in place for royalty. The emergency contact switches.

The Fire Alarm, for instance...

Nathan had positioned himself near it, knowing that pulling it would cause an immediate reaction from security. He pulled the lever in one swift motion, still invisible, and somersaulted in front of the bed, decloaking, as his blue lightsaber flashed on. Saida shot up in surprise at the sound, gaping and immediately hitting the silent alarms. Shouts were heard down the hall.

Nathan took in his opponent, guarding. The clothes of a musician. Figures. He had actually seen this guy playing earlier but hadn't paid him any mind. It meant he was dangerous. Very dangerous if he hadn't initially triggered Nathan's suspicion.

"Nice night for a walk." Nathan said grimly, staring hard at his opponent.

(Cutaway of The Terminator pulling that one dude's heart out in the first movie)

He didn't strike. He looked like some cheap rent-a-padawan, but his presence in the Force betrayed that of a knight, possibly even a master. His saber looked like an ordinary training saber. Hopefully that would make the Assassin underestimate him, thinking he was woefully under-equipped. The blade had been fitted with a Plague Ankarres. While the blade could only stun Organics into possible unconsciousness, inorganic materials could still be sliced through easily. His bond to his wife let her know what was happening.

When Saida demanded to know what was going on, Nathan ignored him.

"Your move, 'Musician'..." Nathan said stoically. "Don't much think a ballad is gonna get you outta this, though..."

Meanwhile...

On orders from Vera, Melissa Bloodscrawl and Meleena Bloodscrawl had decided to comb the seedier areas of the city to try and dig up more information on who had put the hit out. They had been given a name via transmission: 'Mercurio'.

The two sisters, actually reprogrammed and heavily modified bio-organic examples of the Nuetralizer machine race designed by the mad Laertia Io , had been surprised how shady some areas of Naboo could actually get. Especially Theed.

Once, during some sort of netherworld crisis or another, in what had become the last stand of the modern CIS as a major faction run by Darth Metus , The Nuetralizers had viciously fought in the streets with mercenaries and pirates looking to take advantage of the chaos, and had defended it for weeks after. Time had utterly erased any signs of that battle, and any remaining signs of when Nathan Bloodscrawl's firstborn had genuinely tried to be a hero.

The two sisters, wearing matte crimson, skintight catsuits, had ventured into a seedy looking bar far from the polite and clean city centers, instantly turning heads from the suspicious looking patrons, all looking rough and surely, like Theed wasn't their natural environment. The sisters were immensely beautiful, Meleena with her subtle, athletic build, Melissa with her slender frame and long legs, and that was what made them look so unnatural and out of place to the bar patrons.

Melissa subtly gestured for Meleena to stick by her as they sauntered over to the Rodian Bartender behind his shiny golden counter, a selection of fine spirits on the shelves behind them in fancy, impractical looking bottles.

"What can I get you two ladies?" The bartender asked.

"O75 Northern Plains Chianti..." Melissa answered politely.

"Sorry ladies... can't sell you that..." The Bartender replied. "Been a recall on that. Didn't you hear?"

"No, actually. Only been in town for a few days..." Melissa said. "What else you got?"

"Cladhan." The Bartender answered. "Unusually popular around here. Gets you drunk fast."

Two glasses were poured for the pair. Melissa sipped it, knowing her body would simply break it down as a foreign substance.

"So why did the Chianti get recalled?" Melissa asked politely.

"Well besides tasting like disinfectant--which probably is an insult to actual disinfectant--it kept getting people sick. Local grower named Murcurio, got rich selling cheap drink. Kinda stuff you drink out of a paper bag at three in the morning. Except he got lazy. Outsourced off planet. Looks like some minister is about to shut him down. So whatever Murcurio did...he screwed up bad..."

"Huh..." Melissa muttered taking another sip. A subtle tap and electronic Telepathy from Meleena told her a number of patrons were suddenly staring hard faced at them, looking like they were keeping their hands close to their weapons.

"Can't imagine he's happy..." Melissa remarked. "What's he doing about it?"

"You ask a lot of questions for a tourist, lady..." The Bartender remarked.

"Passing curiosity..." Melissa replied.

"Don't sound passing." The Bartender replied suspiciously.

Melissa's ears pinpointed the sound of a blaster being drawn, and flung her glass at superhuman speeds, knocking the weapon out of the would-be shooter's hand. Meleena activated a plasma blade organ in her arm and and almost ghostly energy blade was summoned around it, pointing at the bartender's throat as he tried to pull a shotgun.

Melissa casually turned to face the other patrons getting out their blasters.

"I do so hate resorting to cliches..." Melissa remarked to the other patrons. "But we can do this the easy way...or the hard way..."

Three minutes later.

The two sisters of Nathan had, in accordance with House Bloodscrawl doctrine, had been merciful. No one was dead, and they hadn't even inflicted cuts or broken bones. They were just out cold, their martial arts database employing liberal use of pressure points to subdue them relatively painlessly. Part of it was that they were not cruel. A larger part was in case they got nabbed, they might be able to claim self defense.

They had at least an address. Murcurio's farm.

The pair exited the bar, leaving a pile of the unconscious behind...and the bartender behind his counter, too scared to even move after he saw how effortlessly they had crushed the local goons.

"Sister, I'll keep asking around in the city. You head to the farm..." Meleena said as they walked the streets.

"Agreed..." Melissa replied.

The pair split up, both utterly out of place despite their beauty...



Jonathan Washburne

Kyric

 

[Daniel Washburne]

Nathan Bloodscrawl Kyric
(OOC: Hey guys my apologies but imma bow out of this one. just not feeling the evil. Ya'll can ax him if you want. Dropping those swat threads this week, if you still wanted to write some action stuff)