Well its not nice to meet you...

[Rax Tremira]

• Outside Dromund Kass
• Small Residential Area
• Dusk

Rax yawned aloud as he lumbered out of the speeder that took him to his teachers place. Why the heck was this lesson so important at this time of the night anyway? The young Sithling nodded to the speeder pilot, who mumbled some Sith propaganda in return; something Rax had no interest in having clarified. He just wanted to get this meeting with Master Voss out of the way.. Maybe even, there would be time to show up at the party that was said to be happening on the outskirts. Though, the kind of "party" that the kids on Dromund Kass attended might throw even the most steel-hearted of warriors for a loop.


​

A party here included a lot of suffering for those too weak to defend themselves. Of course, citizens were exempt from such things, for the most part, but just like any other place in the galaxy, crime could occur... Especially when the victims were too scared to come forth. The young man was simply content with being alive however; as opposed to being dead. Many of the people he knew as a boy didn't make it. So much faces disappeared, never to be seen again. For that reason alone, he was grateful to be alive.


~~~~~~

As soon as he approached the exterior doorway to his Master's apartment, he had the strangest feeling. As if every fiber of his body wanted him to run away. It was the strangest sensation, but he ignored it and opened the door. So tired even, he didn't even notice the light thudding upstairs. Perhaps Master Voss indeed had called others in for this lesson, which was fine by him. In fact, he secretly hoped the Rodian boy would be there. He loved punching that kid right in his eye. The very thought brought a laugh from his lips. The more he thought of it, the more Rax would laugh to himself, taking off his black boots, and switching into the training socks that were in the foyer.

With that, he went up the stairs slowly, thudding along heavily at first, but then slowing when he heard the distinctive glare of a lightsaber. His blood went cold for a moment, but he would swallow down that fear, and press on. Other than the saber Voss carried on him, there were no other weapons that Rax knew of. The sounds of his Master growling in anger filled his ears, and he would press on until he could peek around the corner and observe what was happening in the room that he was supposed to be training in.

What he saw? Well...

Aaran Tafo

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He really should not have come here. Of all places for him to venture to, Dromund Kass was probably up there in one of the worst places he could end up. A single misstep, a single error and he would find himself wound up in a Sith prison. Subjected to their tender mercies. And unlike the previous times he found himself in the grasp of the Sith. He would be unlikely to escape.

But he came anyway. His foolish personal attachment to the mission compelling him onwards, spending no small sum of credits to find a skilled enough smuggler to get him planetside. The Taozin amulet clung tightly to his chest to mute his presence in the Force so no one would notice him dart through the shadows. Slowly making his ways towards the apartment of some no-name Sith Lord of little consequence to the current galactic war.

Shuffling through the apartment, he finally laid eyes on his prize. A plain, unmarked mask carved from wood. A curious piece considering it seemed to leave no eyeholes to see through or even a hole to allow air in. If what his grandmother told him was true. It was some relic that ancient Miraluka gave to their Jedi allies. Something to aid in meditation and focus by blocking out all external stimuli. This particular mask used to belong to his family, having been loaned to allies in the past.

There was a certain feeling of satisfaction to be had now that it was back in his own hands. As if the universe had aligned itself to be somewhat closer to what Aaran believed it should be.

But that fleeting feeling would not last for long. As his triumph was interrupted by the creaking of the floorboard behind him. Whipping around, he was confronted with none other than Voss. The Sith who had found his grubby mitts on his family heirloom. Under normal circumstances, Aaran would just take this chance to flee, not bothering to exert energy or take a life. Or perhaps try to subdue him.

But sadly, these were not normal circumstances. And Aaran could not risk capture this evening. So instead, he leapt onto the offensive. Dashing forward at astonishing speed. Arete drawn from its sheath with barely a whisper as the silver blade sliced outwards. Severing Voss' head from the rest of his body in one smooth motion.

One part of his mind mused at how easy such a thing was for him now. Several years ago fighting an individual of Voss' calibre would have been the fight of his life. But now it was barely more than an afterthought. The other part of him, however, was disgusted that he was forced to take a life once again. "May you find the Peace with the Force that you could not in life." He whispered a short prayer to the fallen Sith. Turning his back to the body. He began to leave, only to pause, his blood freezing in his veins as he heard the door open behind him.

Turning to see the face of Rax Tremira behind him. He paused in his step. No doubt striking a menacing figure his bloody blade in hand and hooded cloak over his shoulders. He held out one hand to silence any sounds the teen might make.

"Kid. Your first instinct will be to call for help. I'd really advise you to not do that." He warned, certainly not looking to add a child to his bodycount today. But it did put him in a difficult situation as he considered how to deal with the new arrival.

 

[Rax Tremira]

He observed it, the fell swoop that had bested his master. Even as the body fell to the ground, Rax felt a certain unease in his stomach. Voss might have been one of the strongest people he knew, and he was killed that easily? Rax curled his digits into tightly wound fists, eyes flickering from the corpse on the ground, still spewing blood that seemed to flow endlessly, then locking eyes with the man that had committed the crime. A thief, and a murderer... One could say the Sith were no better, but in this scenario Rax wasn't in the wrong. He was upset, but unsure of what he should've done.

In practice, an individual may die, but they were eternal; in reality... He was scared. He should've indeed called for help, but he knew he couldn't get away from this man. And so, he stood there, his brain stuck in a loop of fight or flight. Both options however seemed beyond reason with the still twitching body of his Master on the ground. Rax looked at the blade the other held, and would exhale a shaky breath.

"Murderer!" he called out, still shivering with a mixture of fear, and anger. His eyes scanned the room, spotting the holo-pad on the wall. Though, it was useless, considering the killer separated him from it. What to do... It was at that moment a light came on in his head; this room was also Master Voss's meditation chamber. If he was quick enough, he could trap the man here then run for help.

Though his body exuded fear, he took two shaky steps away from the other, right hand searching out to grasp at the wall. Just a few more steps, and his plan could be placed into action.

Just in case, his voice would be heard again, trying to distract the other from his true intention.

"A- Advise M-.. Me... You mean kill me quietly?" Rax tried, fingers just barely feeling out the display that controlled the door panel.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Wonderful an overly emotional teen as well. Just his luck he did not get the calm, logical and sociopathic acolyte who'd be glad to find his master dead and willing to cooperate on a purely logical level.

Instead he had some poor fool who thought himself to try something clever. The trick to fighting Jedi was to keep them distracted and off-balance. And not let them focus entirely on you. Because there was always the slight issue when dealing with precognitive and empathic warriors.

An issue that Aaran demonstrated quite clearly as he crossed the interevening distance between the two. His form a blur as he simply appeared between Rax and the panel. During his transit he sheathed his blade and simply held up a hand as if to stop the boy from trying to run or call for help. "Never intended to kill anyone." He said, hand reaching into his cloak to pull out the same wooden mask from before. "Just wanted to get back what he stole from my family." He wasnt looking to justify or excuse his actions. But he was looking to explain things at the very least.

"If you or your boss called for help, that would make things pretty tricky for me." He admitted, placing the mask back into his cloak. Keeping his other hand raised in an attempt to placate the teenager.

"So how about you stop trying to pull any tricks and we just sit and talk for a bit. No one gets hurt and I make my way out of here."

 

[Rax Tremira]

His teeth were gritted as he backed away, terrified, but still at heart working in the interest of the Empire. When the other party blocked off that panel, he spun on heel and stared in disbelief. How could he move so fast?

If he sat with this man, then he was a traitor... Or so he thought, but also Voss himself was one that always preached the doubling of power. He said that eventually it was the student who lived to surpass the master. Yet, this man had killed Voss, and could easily have killed him; though he was choosing to stay his blade. Maybe it was because he was a child? He underestimated him?

In any case, it didn't make sense to throw his life away for such an impossible task. With that thought out of the way, he would nod once, backing up and sitting on one of the soft plushy couches they usually used for training.

"Alright... Talk" he said, gesturing lightly with his hands. At this point, he didn't really have another choice. Though it was hard to focus with the corpse in the room. It wasn't like he hadn't seen bodies before, but ironically he had never seen an allies body. It was almost hard to believe the people on your side had the propensity to die; this man had proved that incorrect.

 

[Trilla Kestis]

“Stop!” cried the child with the white lightsaber. “You don’t know what you are doing!”