I flew from literally thin air, head first, my face tucked into my chest in order to convert my mad flight from Hell into a semblance of a controlled fall. One I could at least term to be close to a landing; and luckily my training was still ingrained in muscle memory. For that's exactly what I did: I tucked, rolled, and came up crouching, arms out and low, hands outspread, ready to face anything and everything except the classroom of students who were frozen in their seats, their expressions no less shock and horror-filled than that upon the face of their equally frozen teacher...

[ 10-03-2007 11:03 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

--------------------

Thoran landed on the floor, rolling. He immediately grabbed at his leg and held it tightly, waiting for the pain to subside. He gritted his teeth and roared out a long series of foul words, and after a moment leaned back in relief as the pain eased. He let out one more curse and then opened his eyes to see Sorben crouched and ready to spring. His eyes then took in the rest of the surroundings, and then followed Sorben’s gaze to the classroom of young students and their dumbfounded instructor, all staring with wide-open mouths.

“Um,” said Thoran. “Class dismissed?”

--------------------

Whirling, I strode quickly to a nearby window, and paused before it.

"Come on!" It was now my turn to take the lead, to urge for expediency. "We--"

I paused in my tracks as the eerie yet shockingly familiar grunts and woorbles of rontos, of all things, suddenly came wafting through the window and into my ears. I leaned out a bit, felt the warmth of the sun-- no, two suns! on my face, felt my flesh shrivel in the low humidity, squinted to see all the more clearly the ragbag little dust-colored community which stretched out not too far from where we now were. Which was--

"Tatooine. We're on Tatooine!"

How we had come to be there I didn't bother to speculate; suffice it to say that my senses were all I wanted to believe in at the moment, and they were telling me that we had somehow and quite fortunately popped back into reality upon a planet which I knew was policed by a rather large blockade of Imperial ships.

All we had to do now was simply contact said ships.

For a moment I considered just waiting until the intrepid instructor returned, then decided against that tactic. Chances were we'd be detained first and asked questions later; without any means of proving to the locals who I was -- for rarely had I been seen by many in anything other than my Mandalorian armor -- it would undoubtedly be a cold day in hell when we'd ever manage to convince anyone into letting us contact said blockade.

And I didn't even want to begin thinking of how to explain Thoran.

"Follow me, pal, and for ghod's sake keep yourself hidden from others if you can!"

Without waiting for any reply from my reluctant companion, I leapt quickly and lithely from the window. Once my feet struck desert hardpan it didn't take me long to make good use of them. I knew the cemented material would resist whatever footprints I might be making in my getaway, and knew as well that the persistent wind on this dusty planet would soon erase all evidence of whatever meager spoor I might otherwise be leaving.

Keeping hunched and low, moving from whatever shelter I could find to the next, and avoiding contact with any others I soon left the school far behind me. Once I was safely away I slowed my pace, and began to simply saunter along, my manner free and easy. For there's no better way to be overlooked as a target, than by not appearing to be one.

And for the time being, at least until I could find the local Imperial base, I figured this simple ploy would more than adequately work to our advantage.

[ 10-04-2007 01:07 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

--------------------

The pain receded as he moved. The constant circulation of fresh blood seemed to lessen the effects of the old imp sting, and whatever had grazed him as he dove through the portal was now wearing off. He followed Tarnus’s pattern of hopping from cover to cover, and when finally in the open hard-packed desert his long strides allowed Thoran to catch the human.

“Well,” said Thoran. “This has me baffled. I mean, I swear I saw the Master open a portal from the other side of those imps, and port to where we were. It doesn’t follow that jumping through that would take us here. But, damn, here we are. Hmm, Where the heck do you think we are, anyway?”

--------------------

The streets here were pretty much empty.

I knew, however, that the Imperial base we had set up on the heels of squashing the last of the Hutts' spice-smuggling ring wouldn't be in the backwaters, but placed in a prominent position as a reminder to all just who was the new King of the Mountain around here. But to get there, we'd have to pass beneath way too many curious eyes, in my humble opinion.

Not that I worried for my own sake; I'd be as anonymous among the riff-raff as I was to the troops when in full armor. Not too many peeps had ever actually seen me "naked," after all.

But as to my companion...

"We're going to have to do something about you, buddy. I know the dregs of the galaxy tend to migrate here, no alluded offense intended, but even here I don't think anyone has ever seen one of your race before. There will be questions, that's a certainty since we've been seen already. I can lose myself in a crowd; you obviously cannot."

Pausing, I peered ahead. It seemed we were beginning to approach a part of Mos Eisley that was more "hopping," for now I could hear the rough voices of the vendors as they haggled their wares. I waved Panthar into a dark shadowy nook.

"Wait here, pal, and let me see what I can do about that."

Assuming he had followed my directive I simply set out, aiming for a little cart which sat on the next street corner. Due to the ragtag nature of the offered goods there weren't too many others in close proximity to it either, which suited me just fine.

"Mother," I said by way of greeting to the elderly woman hunched between a ricketty table in front of her and splintery, wooden upright behind. I pointed to the latter.

"I am in need of a cloak..." I said nothing further, just fell silent.

Greed began rising in her pale, watery eyes, and she hunched closer.

"Aye, and a discerning eye you have, good Sir--" she began in a cackling croak, but I refused to let her start her little spiel.

"I haven't any money, Mother, but you will be rewarded." That said, I pierced her with an intense gaze, staring her directly in her eyes. She must have recognized the look; perhaps a passing jedi had confronted her at one point in the past, for all I knew. But thankfully she seemed to respond to the look I was pinning her with, for after a moment's pause she turned painfully in her seat and yanked down a sand-colored, hole-filled and altogether dirty hooded cloak. Turning back, she laid it across the table.

"No one is buying it anyway," she grumbled defensively, trying to maintain what little dignity that she could. I merely smiled and gathered it up in my arms, nodded my thanks and turned to leave. I hadn't taken but a couple steps when I was halted in mid-track by the sound of her rusty voice.

"Wrap yourself up good and tight, stranger; my bones are aching. There's a storm coming, no doubt about that."

My smile grew darker, and carried itself into my eyes.

"You have no idea," I replied, then retraced my steps to where Thoran was quietly awaiting my return.

[ 11-14-2007 08:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by patternghost ]

--------------------

But it was not all goodness and light, this he knew. The shadow was still present, a dark mist from his past, even before his time with the Master. That shadow he could never fully escape, but it was what made him what he was, and what gave him his true ties to the Darker Realms, his original profession.

But never again, not even if the darkest core of the Realms called his name in command, would he ever again be a spirit assassin.

Sorben approached, holding out a ragged cloak. Thoran raised an eyebrow, eyed the cloak, and then twisted his mouth in thought.

“Hang on,” he said. He removed the white covering from his back and folded it twice lengthwise. This he held to his ear, then wound the long fabric around the top of his head, over his horns, and then down around his neck. He tucked the end through the bottom, and held his hand out for the cloak. With that wrapped around his body, most of his head and body was now covered.

“Shame to cover such nice horns,” he said. “But sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, right? Thanks for the duds, though. So now that we’re all dressed, where to?”

--------------------

"Off to find the local governor, that's what," I replied, letting a grim smile cross my features. "From thereon it's clear sailing."

With that I set up a steady but ground-covering pace, winding through the maze of roadways that snaked this way and that through the community. Mos Eisley might not be the greatest of cities I had ever vusited, but it was the largest on this dustball of a planet, and stretched itself over a wide area. I ignored the sounds of the various and sundry beings who chortled and stomped and whuffed and howled all about me, engrossed in their equally various and sundry, if not dull, daily routines, and kept right on moving. I was hunting for one particular building, the only one to reach toward the sky upon a planet where all other buildings and dwellings were single-storied:

The Hutt's palace. For it was here, I knew, that my troops had set up a base from which to operate.

Nothing but the best for ol' ShaanD'uu Tark, I thought to myself, remembering who had been "elected" governor of Mos Eisley, and who as a result acted in the best interests of the Empire. My smile grew grimmer yet as I shoved my way between a pair of fluttering, bickering Toydarians, sending them wheeling tail over wing-web as I proceeded on, ignoring them.

Where is that damned palace?

One would think it an easy feat to find a structure that towered several stories over the rest of the city. However, Mos Eisley, although spread out over the face of the Tatooine desert, had narrow and winding streets. Crowded by walls of dun colored adobe, from my angle I wouldn't be able to actually see the top of the palace peeping over the buildings on either side of me until I was practically on top of it.

I gritted my teeth, growling.

"Where the hell do they hold those damned Pod races?" I muttered as I came to a halt, arcing my back as I peered upward and around. "If we can find the course, we'll find the palace. Then we can get the hell off of this forsaken rock!"

--------------------

Not waiting for a reply from Tarnus, Thoran stepped out of the alley and held his hand up to the chest of a passing man.

“Hey, buddy!” he cried out. “Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could tell me where they hold the pod races?”

The man stared dumbly at Thoran, then a smile cracked his face and turned to the left and walked away. Thoran stared at the man’s back for a moment until it disappeared down the crowded street.

“That was strange…” he said, turning to the blue Twi’lek woman who passed near him. The woman stopped and cocked her head at Thoran.

“Oh, um, pod races! Do you know where they hold them?”

The woman cocked her head the other way, then smiled and placed her hand on Thoran’s face, cupping his cheek in her palm. Thoran smiled back apprehensively, then after a few seconds he gently grabbed her wrist and brought her hand down. The woman stared ahead and walked away.

“All right,” he said back to the ally where Tarnus still stood. “I don’t know what is going on here, but something isn’t quite right with the people. I’ve never known…”

Something large bumped into Thoran, sending him sailing to the ground. He rolled to his back and looked up to see a large Rodian male staring down at him. The Rodian was dressed in space faring gear, a blaster hanging at his side. Thoran prepared for a confrontation, but instead of going for his gun the Rodian offered a hand. Thoran cautiously accepted and was pulled to his feet.

“Thanks,” he said. The Rodian said nothing and stared at Thoran.

Thoran noticed the Rodian was still holding onto his hand, and when Thoran looked down he caught the shimmer of a white insect crawling across the Rodian’s hand. It quickly made for Thoran’s hand, and he pulled away just in time. The white thing froze long enough for Thoran to get a good look at it, then it darted back under the Rodian’s sleeve. The large male turned and walked away.

Thoran stumbled backwards into the alley.

“We have a problem…” he sputtered. “Wh—white spiders.”

--------------------

I shook my head, and grabbed Thoran, who was looking like something a rancor was about to eat, by the sleeve.

"C'mon, let's try this way," I said and headed off down yet another winding, dusty street. Thoran remained mute, but allowed himself to be dragged along in my wake. As we moved farther through the busy little avenues, though, my own sense of apprehension began to mount, for we didn't receive so much as a single threat from anyone. No death threats, no attempts at extortions. No pick-pockets, no cudgels to the back of the head...

Not even an ugly grimace.

I took a moment to stop and take stock of the situation, hands on my hips and a scowl on my face.

"You're right... and this isn't," I said in a low voice, for by now every instinct I'd ever owned and honed through all my years as a bounty hunter, skills and senses further sharpened by trying to keep up with Galen, were practically screaming at me that something was rotten in Dantooine, and if we weren't careful we'd be sucked smack into it.

I cast a careful glance around, and spotted a handy little niche indented between two buildings. Into it's shadowy embraced I hauled my red-skinned companion.

"Ok, pal, you acted like the world was coming to an end back there. Something about spiders, you said. You wanna come clean about this, and let me in on the scoop too? It would be nice to have all the information available so I can figure out the best way to get us where we want to go."

I gave his sleeve a determined yank, bringing my face not only right up into his personal space, but nice and close to his own. Meanwhile my eyes tried to burn themselves out the backside of his head; after all, I really didn't know this guy from Adam, right? Who was he, a Sith to come spring me out of a Sith dungeon?

Some fast talking was in order, I thought, and I was prepared to listen to it. That did not, however, necessarily mean I would believe...

--------------------

“All right,” he said at last. “You probably won’t believe much of it, but all right.”

Thoran inhaled deeply, then let the breath out slowly as he looked out at the wall of the next building.

“I don’t know if it means the world is coming to end or anything, but it’s really strange what’s going on. You see, we came across these white spiders a while back, on Dagobah, I think. They were connected somehow to the A--”

Thoran stopped, not sure if he wanted to go into the All at this moment.

“-- to this power, like the Force. An old line of juju monks and all, you know? But something about it is real, like these spiders. I can’t really say why…”

I won’t, anyway…

“…but there was a point when one of us was covered by these things – Galen, I think, and someone else. But we accidentally brought them here to Tatooine, and it wasn’t an easy feat in getting rid of them. I thought they were all dead, but apparently not. But now, you see, that big guy just a minute ago, he had one of those spiders on his hand, and it tried to crawl onto me. And maybe I’m not a graduate of the Grand Academy, but I bet that if we checked, we’d find spiders on everyone else that’s acting weird too.”

--------------------

I most certainly knew exactly what this "strange power" was that Thoran spoke of, although at the moment I felt it behooved me to keep that little bit of information to myself. To my way of thinking, it grafted nicely with the fact that he was Sith, too.

But all this mumbo-jumbo about spiders...

"Look," I finally said, quite honestly. "I'm not sure what all this is about spiders. But if there's a strange connection to them and this power you speak of, and if it appears peeps start acting like puppets or something if contaminated by them, then by all the ghods we ought to steer clear of them, right?"

I took a quick glance about myself, and lo and behold, showing their faces over the top of a dusty little hovel were the elegant spires of the Hutts' one-time fortress.

"Spiders, powers, leave it, pal. Let's get to headquarters and I'll show you what real authority means!"

Thoran in tow, I took off down the narrow, winding avenue, rounded the corner of said dusty hovel, and headed toward the imposing ediface which finally deigned to show to us the face with which it dominated this equally dusty little backwater burg.

[ 08-27-2008 01:06 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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“Authority?” he asked at length. “I’ve had my brush with authority, and those who had it. Seems all it is the ability to out-power the other guy, and then what do you have? Someone always wanting to take what’s yours, and was probably someone else’s to begin with. Authority backed with fear, had enough of that. Now, respect – that’s another thing. I respect the ability to lead, and put be able to trust someone to lead. That’s a rare thing.”

Thoran looked up at the spires that grew closer and closer. He suddenly hoped that he could respect the Hutts, but he had an idea it was not going to be that kind of authority.

--------------------

It was that or die.

I leapt up the huge stone steps we had come to, taking them two at a time. Distant voices immediately raised in alarm as shining white troopers descended upon us, blasters at the ready. I just kept going, raising one hand -- in an authoritative manner, mind you! -- smiling to myself to see that even in the wake of the first so-called "skirmish against" the Galaxy, my men still acted with extreme alacrity.

I barked out a particular code; the men came to braked stop on the steps, blasters now held a tiny bit off from us but not yet being lowered. At length one muscled through, a computer padd in his armored hands. I relieved him of it, pressed my thumb to a receiver, then held that receiver up to my right eye.

The padd clicked and hummed for a nanosecond or two before the receiver turned bright green; I handed it back to the armored soldier with a grim smile.

"Get me Landarian on Relentless," I barked as I continued up the stairs, the troopers now parting to enfold us within their midst so as to escort us the remainder of the way to the Command Center of our appropriated headquarters. Thoran trailed behind me.

I waved a hand behind me, not looking back.

"Keep this one under tabs," I said, and smiled again as at least eight blasters immediately trained on his cloaked form. For hey, who was he to me, after all? True, he was someone who had come to my aide, and assisted in getting me out of that Sith dungeon, a dungeon in which he too had been imprisoned as well.

Or so he stated.

All I knew was that there had been enough weirdness happening in my life, seemingly ever since a particular little redhead had popped into it, and to tell the truth I was getting a tad wee tired of it. And Thoran--?

Well, yeah, he had some ability to wriggle from one place into another by ripping open portals into Hell. I'd done that myself, departing from a particular Sith temple when little horrors from said Hell had been spilling over into it. True, those whatever-they-were were indeed enough to warrant a bit of second thought before traveling back through that terrible place... but we had come and gone through it in the proverbial blink of an eye.

Nothing had happened to us, not really. We'd popped through, and ended up here. No major altercation, all our body parts intact.

And one person was always quicker on the move than a pair. This was simple fact, a standard modus operandi I adhered to as a bounty hunter.

So why hadn't we used this to get himself the hell off of Tattooine?

Something was up. Something was happening. And until I had more facts to operate from, I wasn't about to trust a single one of these big, red beings.

No matter how seemingly helpful or friendly they might appear to be.

Not saying anything else, I simply led the way into the Hutts' old palace, coming at last to the Command Center.

"Food, drink, and uniforms," I barked, once again waving a hand toward Thoran. "And something simple he can put on; that cloak stinks to high heaven!

"And someone get me Landarian!"

Hands on hips I watched with satisfaction as, with the sole exception of the eight blasters trained on Thoran, all others lowered in lieu of their owners' saluting me. I shot a see what I mean? look to the Sith as the Command Center burst into a veritable beehive as troopers moved to carry out my orders.

--------------------

“You have proven your point,” he called out. “You remind me of someone I used to work for. Perhaps when you finish cleaning yourself up, we can discuss the reason I rescued you?”

--------------------

"Oh, put your arms down, for ghod's sake," I grumbled, motioning him to take a nearby seat. The little retinue of armed guards didn't impede him one whit, but kept their blasters duly trained on him per my order. I settled down into the base commander's chair, said worthy having personally relinquished it to me as he went off to scare up Relentless.

I eyed Thoran while I waited.

"The thought did cross my mind, Thoran," I said seriously, sighing to myself to see the unhesitating manner in which this guy flipped from white to black in his worldview.

Not one lick of gray. Just BOOM, we're palsy-walsy, or BOOM, the most bitter of enemies. Not one thought regarding a possibility that perhaps I'd had to act as I did...

I could only wonder to myself if this was representative of his people as a whole, or simply resultant of his own quirky personality. I really needed to determine if there was a difference, for I'd only met one or two others of his race. His behavior from this point on was going to go a long way toward helping me understand how best to deal with the Sith. So far he had seemed open and friendly enough, but I still couldn't help wondering why after the rather elaborate manner in which he had extricated us from the dungeons we had been reduced to such mundane subterfuge in order to make our way here to the Command Center.

The fact that he actually hadn't up and flickered into another place in the universe sans a particular Lt. General couterbalanced that, however. I motioned to a hovering aide, ordered something for us to drink, and waved at Thoran once again.

--------------------

“Yeah,” he said. “All right. I knew it all along.”

Thoran walked to the seat that was offered. He sat down and plopped a leg on top of his other, crossing them and leaning back.

“Not to sound like a woman, but I’ve been hurt a few times in the past. In fact, that’s sort of why I helped you out. You see, there was a time when I was kind of like you. On top of the world, or the galaxy… or in my case something even bigger. But when you make deals with the wrong people you eventually have to pay the bill, right? Maybe you know that already.”

Thoran glanced around, his eyes then coming slowly back to Tarnus.

“Hey, got anything to eat?”

--------------------

So you've been hurt, pal. Well... welcome to the galaxy.

I didn't say a word, didn't let the images of a particular redhead rush forward as they were suddenly trying to do, pushed aside another one of a tiny, blue-eyed infant. I just raised a finger toward one of the men, who quickly saluted before departing. Time ticked by, heavy with silence, until he at last returned bearing a tray of something or other which passed for food on this miserable planet.

That at least provoked a frown from me. I mean, ghods but one would think the Empire would provide decent sustenance for its troops. Was this normal?

I thought of mentioning my disgust at what was proffered but decided to hold back. Since I had first fallen in with him, my good ol buddy Thoran hadn't really said much of anything important to me, just ramblings about spiders and being hurt. And according to him whatever hurt him was, in his own words, "something big."

I settled in my seat, nodding to the trooper who moved to Thoran's side, tray in hand. Waving my own to indicate Thoran help himself, I remained silent and simply waited to hear if he would ever say something that might truly prove itself useful.

[ 10-12-2008 01:56 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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“So,” he said. “I’m grateful to you for the food and things.”

For a moment longer he let the silence echo, then sat forward.

“All right,” he said. “I guess we’re here, safe, and all is well. So we can finally talk about some things that need to be talked about. Well, that and some other creepiness, like the weird white spiders.”

Thoran paused, trying to read the face of Tarnus.

“Look, I know you’re probably not too trusting right now, considering the place I found you. I took you with me because you are human, and believe it or not some of my best friends are human. You also had to be someone of either great importance, or at least of great intrigue, and it turns out you are both. And now serendipity has smiled on me again, because there is some really heavy stuff going on that could maybe head off a conflict.”

--------------------

A conflict.

Arms still crossed I lifted a finger toward the guards, wiggled it in a particular manner. The gleaming white helmets made simultaneous nods in my direction before cocking to their respective left sides in a somewhat peculiar fashion. This was followed by the almost choreographed movement as all heads resumed their normal pose, weapons still aimed in the vicinity of Thoran.

The armored warriors' helmet receivers had been turned off at my command, leaving the lot of them deaf to their surroundings. But certainly not aloof, I wasn't that stupid. Unknown to most in the galaxy, the rising New Empire had developed an entire collage of hand signals.

For just such kinds of circumstances.

Secure that the retinue could no longer hear our conversation, I settled more comfortably in my seat.

"How lovely it is that you wish to maintain good relations between our species," I said wryly, letting a quick smile flick across my face. It hardened back into an unreadable mask.

"Perhaps you will tell me exactly what it was that happened at K'eel Doba, pal. And please, don't insult my intelligence by claiming ignorance; from all the little hints and innuendos you've been tossing about I know you know far more than you've been willing to let out."

In a sudden movement, fluid as a rushing waterfall and just as erosive, I straightened and sent a fisted hand down on the tabletop with a decisive thump.

"What happened to my blockade?!"

--------------------

“Your blockade was destroyed by the power held by the Sith, to eliminate what was perceived to be an unwarranted act of aggression upon the race. However costly, though, I now appeal to you to hold from further action until you hear me out. There is much more at stake here than the expansion of an empire, and there needs to be an immediate understanding and truce between your people and the Sith.”

Thoran relaxed a bit, then glanced at the guards once more before returning his attention to Sorben Tarnus.

“I think you should speak with the Dark Lords,” he said. “Neither race can afford to be fighting each other, not at this time.”

--------------------

Images rose up from memories, those fairly new and fresh in reference to the years I had occupied space in the Galaxy, but images that to most would be utterly unthinkable. Frightening.

Images of my time with Galen, which led me through an introductory period, if you will, against a couple of what I have come to know as being Dark Jedi. Images then leading to what she had endured at the hands of her sister, and then our interactions with this self-proclaimed "Graysith" and the weird power she had, that which I had come to know as The All. Images of running in an otherwise empty temple on the sister planet of Khar Delba, fighting demons from hell, a hell I had recently passed through myself; fleeing from that supposed haven as the Dark Sorcerer Lord sequestered himself away from us, leaving us to fight alone, to go one alone, to face...

What? Other Dark Lords who came and went, the heartache of Galen's departure, the approach of Admiral Actar who wanted her dead, who claimed to want my own daughter dead...

Even though I knew she had something to do with this power, this All, as well.

I knew the Sith weren't supposed to be here... but they were. That was something I imagined Thoran himself had no inkling of; how could he?

He hedged about the All, but it simply made no sense. If his people had flashed out in anger against what they perceived to be an attack against them, even though never once did I destroy any Sith ships in their coming and going between sister worlds, why did they wait until now to do so? The blockade had circled the system for well over a standard year.

Why now?

Obviously there was more going on here than I thought. But speaking to the Dark Lords...

"That would be something of a... complication," I said at length, now reaching for the glass I had set on the table and taking a gulp from it to cleanse my throat, to marshall my thoughts.

"For it was when I had approached the ruling body on K'eel Doba that I was imprisoned. I came before their, what would you call her, the Dark Lady? Graysith--?"

Another swallow, then a gentle thunk as the goblet was set almost daintily upon the tabletop once again.

"--only to be mocked and almost immediately imprisoned, and for no apparent reason, I might add."

Other than I was there, one of the High Mucketty-Mucks of the Empire, if you will.

I fell into silence, still judging the man before me, still trying to determine if indeed I could seriously and truly trust him. I will admit, however, that so far I appeared to have every indication of doing so...

[ 10-26-2008 05:14 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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“Well,” he said, “I agree that it was a not a good thing to throw you into the dungeon like that, speaking from experience it’s something that gets done a little too hastily at times. But you were holding a blockade around the system, and they’re not used to dealing with people from the outside – not really much use for diplomacy, if you know what I mean. But I’m hoping that at least is an incident that we can put behind us, and figure out how to get along with each other. I’m pretty sure that once we introduce each other properly, and under better circumstances, you guys will hit it off a lot better. I know for a fact Phalomir – one of the Dark Lords – he’d love to talk to you. And Graysith will talk, too. I mean, it’s not like you have a past personal history with the Dark Lady that she’d hold a grudge about, right?”

--------------------

Grudge? Don't be silly...

A ripple of annoyance whispered through me as I listened to what I perceived to be a glib attempt at speaking without really saying much.

Yeah pal, I just bet your "Dark Lord" would just love to talk to me. Especially since Jharmeen Jhin'Darr, the self-appointed "Graysith," whatever that meant, held her fancy-schmancy title of Dark Lady of the Sith.

Yeah. Right.

I leaned back casually, crossing my arms, and was about to reply when an ensign appologetically joined us. He came to a full salute, then upon my response that he rest easy he approached me and whispered quietly into my ear.

I couldn't help the tiny smile that lifted the corner of my lips.

A courier was coming, to take me to Landarian. Actar had sent Swatzi...

Good.

After dismissing the ensign I rose to my feet and considered Thoran for a moment. Here was a representative of the race that had blasted my fleet to smithereens, one who on one hand had released me from imprisonment, but who was remaining remarkably taciturn about issues my gut was simply screaming to me that he had to know.

Into which camp should he be placed: friend, foe, ally...

...or simple manipulator?

All I knew was that he definitely needed to be kept in hand, so to speak; and the best sort of hand with which to hold a nervous flutterby was one from which the gauntlet had been removed.

"We're going to be getting off this rock," I said succinctly, with an equally succinct nod to him.

"Is there anything you need that our simple base here might possibly provide in the meanwhile?"

((OOC: To see what Sorben is referring to, see Back Into the Fire, this date, in the "Empire/New Republic" forums, thank you.))

[ 11-12-2008 02:15 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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“I don’t want to put you out,” he continued, considering Sorben’s offer. “Just a chance to freshen up a bit, if that’s all right. Those dungeons were pretty dank, and then the hot sun didn’t do much to make me smell any better.”

Thoran paused, looking at Sorben solemnly.

“I don’t want to be your enemy, you know. I don’t want our people to be enemies, either. I could have left you there, in that dungeon, but I knew that would have been truly bad. There are bigger things at work here, and the sooner we can all get over the emotional ride we’ve just been through, the sooner we can all realize that we’re being played against each other in a ridiculous game.”

Thoran leaned forward, his face growing more serious.

“I took you through the portal to show you what was on the other side of the membrane. It’s not at all a happy place, and the folks there would just as soon cut you up and feed you to the imps than say hello. But I have a feeling you already knew about this place. And I also have the feeling your story with the Sith goes back quite a way. But I’m willing to bet that you don’t know the half of it. So I want to tell you some things, and because you know about the Darker Realms, I’m hoping it will keep your mind open to a lot of other things that will seem fantastic.”

Thoran sat back and brought a leg up to rest on the other.

“Can you tolerate me for a while longer?”

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I let the smile of satisfaction on my lips segue into a genuinely pleasant one. If my traveling companion was willing to finally begin letting me in on the "half" I didn't already know, I was more than willing to listen.

"Ok, shoot," I said, dismissing the hovering troops to wait outside. No need for any possible eager ears to overhear what Thoran might be about to divulge; while prudence cautioned I might want to wait until we were with Swatzi, and possibly Actar himself, I wanted to let my gut make that final decision. After all, I had never come to terms with the horror Actar had placed Galen in.

Not to mention the little fact that he had sent me out to assassinate her, along with our own daughter. Little did Galen know, but I had been fairly certain that the pair I had destroyed at Quee's hidden sanctuary had been merely a set of clones; Galen might be a cunning little firebrand, but she left an electronic trail a blind dewback with a cold could follow. It hadn't been too difficult to deduce what she had been up to, selling off all the familial lands and so on, then going to Kamino for a little visit. A little visit there on my own time assured that Actar would never, ever discover what she did.

Funny what enough credits will buy a guy. Thanks, Admiral, for making me third in command!

Leaning forward casually, I flipped a switch, keeping the surveillence vid-cam sweeping the room operating, but muting the sound. I fed the images to a small monitor outside, where I knew the lieutenant in charge of my little retinue would be hovering, ready to act immediately should Thoran try anything funny.

That little task finished, I reached for my caf, took a sip, and nodded to the rather happy looking Sith.

"Tell me what I already don't know."

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