last_kallig (
last_kallig) wrote2014-12-05 03:49 pm
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OOM: Mission: Shopping!
This is Kaas City, the Dark heart of the Sith Empire. The planet of Dromund Kaas is saturated with the Dark Side of the Force and the city itself is mere klicks from at least one incredibly potent Dark Force Nexus. Compared to THAT, the hundreds of Sith here are mere pinpricks, raindrops in an ocean of dark power.
And Quinlan Voss, former Jedi, is here to.....shop. The Force works in mysterious ways, perhaps.
And Quinlan Voss, former Jedi, is here to.....shop. The Force works in mysterious ways, perhaps.
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The craftwoman who runs the shop is a tall, lean woman, hair gone completely steel gray with age. She's ex military, from the way she moves, although her steps are just a touch stiffer than they should be. Prosthetic legs hidden by trousers, perhaps?
She greets both of them with a half bow and a "My lords," before beginning her explanations of the armor she makes. Yes, her armor WILL protect from lightsaber blows. Not forever, of course, but all of the armors have cortosis alloy in them for such a purpose. She asks about how he prefers to fight, watches how he moves. She even knows the proper names of all the lightsaber forms and what they're used for! The craftswoman may be Force blind, but her knowledge of how combat works with Force sensitives is considerable.
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Once Ibani gives him the all clear, he explains he prefers forms V and VI, but draws from Vii as well. He uses the Sith names of course. When the woman requests him to demonstrate a form, he does so, first slowly and then near combat speed.
When he is done, he offers the seller a slight nod of respect to placate any hard feelings his seemingly suspicious nature before might have suggested. It always pays to be polite to the person who is making equipment that will save your life.
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She nods occasionally, listening intently as he answers. It won't be long before they've narrowed the possible options down. In fact, Quin is in luck! There is a set of armor, nearly finished, that would be a good fit for him with only minimal alterations.
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"How difficult would it be to apply temporary paints? My Master requires discretion at times and I do not always know the terrain I am to work in."
In other words, how easy is it to apply a camouflage layer to the armor.
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"Paint could certainly be applied, although it won't hold up well to being struck by weapons," she replies. "Paint designed for armor would last a little better, but the likelihood of it needing a touch up after an altercation would be high."
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"No matter. The paint would only be temporary in any case."
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She'll answer any questions he has before the idea of him actually purchasing the armor is broached. Thankfully, the Bar at Milliways is capable of changing money from Quin's era into the Imperial credits of this one. His normal money would definitely be no good here, being minted by a different Empire entirely!
"It suits you," Ibani says as they leave the shop, her smile hidden behind her mask. The streets seem too crowded as they head back into the main thoroughfare, something must be obstructing traffic ahead and things are rapidly progressing into gridlock.
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"It does feel good, though I am not so sure of the mask. I will have to spend some time sparing with it on." The walk feels good and oddly enough, wearing armor makes him feel slightly less as much a target. A foolish thought, he realizes and forces himself to go back to caution. His scanning eyes pass a face before they come back to rest on a face which shouldn't be familiar at all.
Quin hides this by continuing to scans the area and chat with Ibani, but a few meters later, he remembers why he knows the man. Harkun, Ibani's old overseer whom he saw when he read her lightsaber.
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That is right about the time she also sees that familiar face where she was definitely not expecting it to be. Ibani doesn't twitch, doesn't stop moving, but Quin might feel a brief, sharp, spike of hate from her that's quickly suppressed.
"It's a surprise to see one's former instructors outside the classroom," she remarks, tone entirely conversational. Harsh and unforgiving necessity has made sure she's very good at self-control. "He must be taking a break from his weeding on Korriban."
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As Quin watches, an idea occurs to him; a very un-Jedi-like idea. He waits until Harkun is just about to pass the obvious Sith and then just gives a slight Force push to the overseer's feet. Just enough to trip him up.
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The push is just enough to send Harkun stumbling into the other Sith. Harkun's lips twist in a sneer and it's clear he is about to throttle some poor, random Imperial behind him when the realization of just WHO he's bumped into registers.
Harkun's face goes pale enough that the red tattoos stand out like fresh blood on his skin, but he manages to keep his voice steady. His usual arrogance and superiority is gone, replaced by subservience and submissiveness. "My utmost apologies my Lord," he says with a deep bow. He glances out of the corner of his eye for someone to blame, but the rapidly widening circle bare of people around the two Sith is devoid of potential culprits.
Quin might notice that Ibani has gone very, very still and that's she's watching the unknown Sith warily.
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He hopes his impulsiveness isn't about to get them in trouble. As to Harkun, well the man can fend for himself.
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"That's the Dark Lord Darth Marr," Ibani explains quietly. "Member of the Dark Council and one of the most powerful Sith in the entire Empire." No wonder Harkun is so pale!
Darth Marr speaks, his voice a deep tone largely absent of emotion. "Inattentiveness to one's surroundings is a dangerous trait for a Sith to cultivate," he intones. It might or might not be a veiled threat, it's impossible to say for sure.
Harkun swallows. "Yes, my Lord, of course. I will take all possible caution in the future."
"Indeed," Marr replies. "I'm sure you will." The Dark Lord stalks on his way without another word.
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"I believe your former overseer may be in need of new trousers." Quin says, not that he can blame the fellow.
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A subtle use of the Force a time or two and the droid just happens to nearly run over Harkun's foot.
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Harkun snarls at the droid and stretches one hand out toward the offending machine. Force lightning crackles through the air, sizzling and popping. The droid's distressed, pained sounding beeps, whistles and shrieks as the lightning blackens its outer shell and destroys its inner workings are loud in the unnatural silence around them. The citizens of Dromund Kaas are quite accustomed to Sith, but even they aren't used to seeing Force lightning at work. (And, of course, they're hoping that if they're quiet and out of the way none of that will be turned on THEM.)
By the time the droid is a blackened shell on the permacrete, Harkun seems back to his usual self. Nothing like putting someone or something else 'in their place' to restore your own sense of superiority, apparently.
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"Perhaps we should move on before he sees us." He murmurs to Ibani. He's not sure if she outranks Harkun but just in case. Plus, he could use less temptation right now.
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The traffic is still at a near standstill, but Force Sensitives aren't limited to traveling along the street. "Up for a bit of a challenge? I bet we can make it back there much faster by nontraditional routes."
It's hardly any effort at all for Ibani to force leap up onto a nearby roof, Quin close behind her. Milliways is calling.