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Onderon

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Inner Rim

Sector: Japreal Sector

System: Japreal System

Orbital Position: 2

Moons: 4 (Dxun, Dagri, Evas, Suthre)

Grid Coordinates: Q-10

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: jungles, mountains

Points of Interest: Iziz (capital), royal palace, University of Iziz

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: humans

Immigrated Species: various (though the Onderonians are mildly xenophobic)

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic

Faction Affiliation: neutral

 

Defense Rating: 3

 

JediRP Canon History: Onderon has a history of being a battleground, starting with Freedon Nadd and the Beast Wars, to the Mandalorian Wars, to the Onderon Civil War, and even to the Clone Wars. There have consistently been tensions between its government, and the Mandalorian clans who control its largest moon, Dxun. In fact, Onderon’s jungles hide many Mandalorians.

 

During the war between the Republic and Empire, the Mandalorians on Onderon attempted peace talks with Admiral Onderin Starlisk of the Republic and his apprentice, Aira Cadan. The peace talks, despite the efforts of an assassin droid and a countess, ended with the Republic giving control of Onderon provisionally to the Mandalorians. The Mandalorians didn’t keep their end of the deal, however, engaging in hostile actions against Iziz. The Republic showed up, but were unable to prevent the Mandalorians from slaughtering practically the entire city and then abandoning it to burn. Republic forces, including Knight Cadan and the Survivor’s Foundation, then engaged in clean-up operations.

 

Onderin Starlisk later returned to the planet along with Jedi Grandmaster Darex Trevelian. Together, the two Jedi Masters stopped an Arach’tar attack, preventing the monsters from returning to the galaxy once more.

 

Onderon has long been home to a top-secret underground Sith temple, filled with adepts and agents of Darth Luciferian. During the build up to Faust’s attempt at destroying the galaxy, one of his agents, Dr. Van Isel, was visited by both Aira Cadan and Emily Zsahra-Skywalker, who were hunting for information on Faust’s ritual. Both women were forced to leave empty handed. Van Isel was killed in service to Faust on Coruscant during the final showdown at the Memorial.

 

Recently, a man claiming to be Faust has led Jedi Master Skye Organa and CoreSec officer Tenebris on a hunt all across Iziz as they search for the truth of the rumors of his return.

 

((Summary compiled by Amidala Skywalker. Thank you!))

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Aluc docks his ship and gets off. He has absolutely no idea where to meet the old man. He stand waitng in the docks assuming this is the easiest place to find someone. He sits against a wall to rest and feels himself drifting into a deep sleep.

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It is time to awaken the senses within you. A voice rang as Aluc drifted into his deep sleep.

 

By the time Aluc had woken up from his nap, a common street begger was standing before him with his hands open, "Why won't you help me? I beg to you for some spare change! If you won't help me, then I will fight you for it."

 

A split second later, the begger was tossing himself at Aluc in an attempt to steal for his own survival....

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Aluc lets his hand leap to his pistol in a raw yet still slow response.

 

What the hell Aluc says to himself as he responds and tries to comprehend what is going on.

 

He lets the man fall on top of him, and quickly pulls one of his pistols out of its holster and fires a shot aimed directly for the center of the mans chest.

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The shot landed itself right in the center of the begger's chest, killing him instantly. The ordeal drew the attention of several citizens occupying the docks; most of them beggers and panhandlers themselves. Normally, they would have simply kept their distance, since such conflicts weren't uncommon in this part of the city. That night however, something else compelled them to act.

 

You've tasted a small hint of killing. But now you must unlock you're true potential. The voice from the air said again.

 

This time, the small crowd began to swarm Aluc in what seemed to be their own defense or survival. A simple pistol wouldn't be able to deal with this crowd; instead, something more would be required....

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Aluc realizes the danger and quickly pulls free his second blaster and starts to fire both at the fastest speed he can muster. The crowd draws ever closer despite his attempts to stop it. Aluc realizes he hasn't felt this afraid in...well...forever. Aluc keeps firing but the situation starts to look more bleak. Anger floods through him.

 

Why the hell did the old man lead me into such a shitty place! races through Aluc's mind, soon he feels hands starts to touch him.

 

What the hell is with these people he thinks. He starts to feel hatred for the people around him. Finally one of his pistols is pulled from his hand. He yells in frustration and lunges for the pistol, it is at that moment he realizes the pistol is still firing almost as if he is pulling the trigger with an invisible finger. A blade slashes his shoulder, and Aluc swings around in rage. He feels a pulse in his mind and he realizes all of the automated guns in the room started to fire for a second clearing away a large part of the crowd.

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After the automatic guns tore into the crowd, the rest of the mob snapped back to reality and began to look around at the chaos. Most of them pushed back in a retreat, some tripping and trampling over each other as they moved. Some others simply stood in a state of shock. It took a couple of minutes before the crowd was finally gone, leaving Aluc to his own doings. In just a few moments, the atmosphere of the situation had returned back to normal.

 

That was the time that the true training started. Aluc was in a position of finding himself in a new light; one that would offer enhanced skills and understandings about the world. It was one that would also bring pain and danger to the new apprentice's life.

 

"Now you have found your true potential." The voice said, this time in a clearer state than before....

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Aluc snaps his head around looking for the voice.

 

"whats going on here?" he yells "What do you want from me? what did I just do?" Aluc feels his unanswered questions brining inside of him fueling his anger. His extra pistol levitates into his holster without him realizing it. "WHAT do you want?" he yells one last time?

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"I want nothing from you." Celedon spoke as he stepped out of the shadows and into the dim lit area.

 

"What you just did is awaken the Force within you. You've touched a powerful ally that, with training and concentration, will open you into a new world of experience and power....."

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Those words "The Force" shock Aluc/ He has heard about them in tales, but in his childhood it was all but that a tale. Excitement filled him he could only imagine what something like this could entail for him.

 

He turns to the old man with an odd grin on his face "Do you propose to teach me more with the force old man?" - Aluc asks

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A swift punch against Aluc's throat brought the young man to the street in a split second. A second later, Celedon was hovering above Aluc with his knee slowly squeezing down on the man's swollen neck.

 

"The only thing I intend to teach you with is this, until you prove yourself more than some space cowboy wannabe. This feeling right now: the sting of your throat; the stretch of your lungs gasping for air; will be the only thing you know until you learn how to act smart in this world. The Force is unforgiving to the idiots in this galaxy." Celedon stated as he gazed down straight at Aluc's frightened eyes.

 

"Don't forget that several people died tonight, just to awaken you to the Force. Death isn't something to shy away from, but needless death I will not tolerate. You must now prove to me that those deaths weren't needless, first by showing proper respect: as of this moment, you will only know me as Master, is that clear?"

 

Once Aluc had acknowledged, Celedon released the man from his knee grip and threw a datapad down, "You are to take yourself to Tatooine; land anywhere you wish. I'm giving you a half a day's head start before I come to hunt you down. If you fail to survive, then you will die. If you happen to impress me enough, then I may consider letting you live... and if luck is really on your side, I just might continue your training. I would stop wasting time and get going...."

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Aluc coughs and stands up. Tears flood his eyes as air finally flows back into his lungs. He stands up and glares at all of the spectators. He debates leaving for a fair bit of time. Then climbs to his ship and flies away.

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"Are you sure?" The doctor stared at his assistant with fear in his eyes and dread on his lips. This couldn't be correct. Surely they knew of his condition. The good doctor couldn't help but stare, mouth agape as he waited for the young boy to speak up. He was scared as well; they had never planned for something like this to happen so soon. Not when there was so much work to be done.

 

"I double checked sir. The orders came straight from the top." He was grasping the datapad perhaps a little too tight; his finger tips and knuckles had started to grow white. For a while they both remained standing. The small, knickknack filled office had grown confining, the air thick and stale. The silence spoke more to them than any words could have, the gravity the small electronic text held was unfathomable.

 

"Corporate ordered this?"

 

"No sir, higher."

 

"Higher?"

 

"The Empire, sir. Says we can't hold him anymore."

 

For over six months the patient had spent every Monday morning alone in a room with the good doctor. Drugged up, restrained, with two guards at the door, the patient should have been as docile as a lamb, and yet the doctor still said a prayer every time he stepped through that door. What this man was, what he had become was something the doctor had hoped to never see manifest in his lifetime. Murder, corpse desecration, unconfirmed numbers driven insane, the patient's rap sheet was enough to give any good soul nightmares. Orders were to shoot him on sight, taken dead or alive. It had taken twelve officers, a special team of ten stormtroopers lent by the local garrison, two undercover officers, and one brave citizen to bring him down, and none got out intact. Those who didn't die were cursed to a life of the mad house, driven insane by whatever untraceable narcotics he had given them. At least that was the official cause of insanity put on the reports. The doctors found absolutely no signs of poisoning, not even on the autopsy of the officer that had chewed off his own tongue alone in his room tied to his bed, drowning on his own blood in less than thirty seconds. The courts deemed the patient mentally insane, unable to take to trial. And so he was taken to the asylum, where every Monday he would sit for two hours, doing nothing but staring into the eyes of the good doctor.

 

”œDid they say why they wanted him released?”

Edited by Guest

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Faust received word on landing that his advance troops did their work well and the coup as it were, was smooth, save for the burning of an asylum. Still making use of his covert ties to the Empire, the Hunter has an archeological team dispatched from Coruscant, guessing as well that broadening gap between the Sith and Empire would make them far from missed.

 

Landing, Faust makes for the former Palace in Iziz, once the home of Onderon's royalty, now set up as a temporary base of operations for his occupation of the planet. He has archeological teams set out about the place, as well as dispatching a few guarded ones to Dxun to investigate the tomb of Freedon Nadd and dredge up any artifacts that might remain. To Faust's dissapointment, he finds that Orbalisks, a staple of the Sith in ancient days, were driven to extinction years back by a cult on the planet and could no longer be found in the galaxy. In the meantime, there were thousands of small details to see to, which he was loathe to do, but...

 

His attention is swiftly taken by reports of Imperial activity in the past few days, involving the fire in Iziz he heard of, of a former war criminal being sprung. Instinctively sensing opportunity, or perhaps a kindred spirit, Faust orders three of his elite troopers to undergo "casual dress" in non-descript clothes (though still heavily armed and armored underneath) and tail him into hunting down this rogue unit and to asses its status as a threat, a neutral force, or if it would ally with him. Though he could send someone else in his place, a premonition stoked his curiosity and told him he should do this himself.

 

He finds himself in a typical bar, populated mostly by humanoids, given Onderon's xenophobic nature towards off-worlders. His senses, all six briskly scan the bar, finding someone vaguely familiar at the bar. Motioning for his men to stay back, Faust strolls up to the bar, making no point of hiding his identity: his pristine, shining white body armor, his trench coat, laden with weapons flowing behind him, and the cold, inhuman stare of his eyes.

 

The bartender gapes, recognizing one of the galaxy's most infamous men. Faust smiles, realizing the bartender wet himself and a few other patrons were on the verge of doing the same. Standing beside Julio, Faust gives an order.

 

"A drink. I'll have what he's having," he states, motioning towards the former Sith and Imperial.

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The smell of ammonia stung his nostrils more than the coarse whiskey this backwater planet had to offer. He hadn't noticed them in the slightest as they strolled in, nor the overwhelming silence that was cast over the bar as the new patrons were recognized. Disconnected from the bar, from himself, even the drink in his hands, he felt nothing. No remorse for his actions at the asylum, not even shock or joy for what he had done. Nothing had seemed right since his birth, or rather his rebirth. It seemed that with his mind as did his ability to feel become stricken from him. Now, in the empty peacefulness of a washed out bar, he sat alone in perplexity. Only when the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand, and the man clad in all white took the seat next to him did Julio snap back to the world around him.

 

"-what he's having."

 

He tilted his own glass, noting the shallow pool of amber liquor still remaining. Oh that's right, I was drinking. He looked side to side, keeping his head still. The five ghouls spread throughout the bar weren't here previously, they must have come in with the man in white. The bulges in their clothes weren't promising, but there couldn't be a bounty out already. You could still smell the asylum burning in the air. There must have been something else this man wanted. Obviously the other patrons at the bar knew him, and feared him from the look at them. Like lambs, all of them.

 

"And I'll have another. Both on me."

 

Something had to be done, and Julio wanted to hold the initiative in this encounter. He had managed to procure a small knife from the asylum, but it was in his boot, not easily accessible enough to really matter in such close quarters. No, he would have to talk this one out, if anything was to come up.

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Faust smiles, giving a gracious nod. Either this one was incredibly brave, stupid, or ignorant. Faust takes the drink, reaching out to probe the man's mind. There was a disturbing amount of emptiness in there, one that surprised Faust given how complete it was. Faust probed for a name, anything, but only got darkness and the recent memories of the escape.

 

"Curious," he murmurs aloud. "For one who did such beautiful work, you have no memory of the path that led you into the flames and back out again." Faust chuckles. "Truly magnificent. And I can see you killed heavily many people before then. Tell me, what do you suppose drives a man to not only kill, but make his victory over the vanquished absolute?"

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Accelerating heartbeat and the sudden loss of breath told Julio that he was presently experiencing a whole new emotion. Basic fear, mixed with a strong curiosity and a hint of desperate aggression marked this as one of his least favorite feelings thus far, but even that thought was pushed aside as the echoing question of how ran through his mind. It...just wasn't possible. He stilled his mind away from his body, detaching himself yet again to bring control back. His face remained expressionless despite the rushing of questions and building fear manifesting internally. What was inside was supposed to be his alone, no one else's. Denial was a fool's game. As nonchalantly as the man in white had spilled his sins in to the ears of those in the bar, he was completely sure of what he spoke.

 

"I suppose it's a matter of how you want to win, really." he said as he rose his new glass to his lips, no longer sipping but practically throwing the burning liquid down his throat. "You either win, and let the challenger live to challenge another day, or win completely, once and for all, and never have to worry about that challenger again."

 

He rested the shot glass back on the counter before turning to the man in white. May as well look into the eyes of the man who knows all your secrets, you have nothing left to hide.

 

"Another. Burnout this time."

 

He reached into his front coat pocket, precisely measuring his movements so as not to seem threatening. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, one lifted from the gate guard at the asylum, his final hurdle in his path to freedom.

 

"Care for a square?" He said to the man in white. "Name's Julio." The name sounded unfamiliar and unused, like it wasn't his, but it was the same with any other name he heard. This was what the doctor had called him, and thus that was who he was. He could have at any time discarded the name and picked another, but it didn't really matter. Perhaps the name would help him find someone that would recognize him, that could shed some light on the overcast his mind had been swallowed by.

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Faust declines the offer of a smoke with a choice word.

 

"Cigarettes are for pussies," he states with a derisive snort, "though they'll do in a pinch." With the same measured slowness, he reaches into the folds of his trenchcoat and takes out a small silver case, which he flips open with one hand. Drawing out a cigar, Faust offers one to Julio before plucking the cigar into his mouth. "I don't smoke too much myself, but a cigar everyone once in a while hits the spot." He puts the case back and takes out a battered looking metal lighter. Faust gives a faint smile, knowing he's lit up more than cigars with his trusty lighter and soon the bar area is covered in the faint scent of tobacco, and almost something that reminded those who caught whiff of the smoke, burning flesh perhaps?

 

"Well, Julio Furion," Faust states, giving a content smile that looked strangely out of place on his face as he inhales deeply. "I'm of the mind that victory involves destroying an opponent utterly. Life as you've no doubt noticed is cheap, easy, and fragile, yet something that people cling desperately to. For some, giving them death is enough to destroy them, to break them into pieces in their last moments. One may take life, but destroying the soul, that is the challenge."

 

"Of course," Faust adds thoughtfully, "there are some who just won't die, at all. Armies of damn clones waiting in the wings for the next time their spirit gets shunted off the mortal coil." Faust wonders yet why he never made had a clone waiting for himself. He'd possessed other bodies when it suited him, but always kept his own, his original in cryostasis during those periods. Probably because he thought, no, knew himself immortal. Even when a horde of treacherous Vong ripped his body to shreds, or a cunning Jedi Master liquidized his insides with a bomb, he survived, sometimes relying on cloned organs or other tricks, but he never died.

 

Bringing himself out of his pondering, he continues. "Breaking their life's work, their dreams, turning their very world against them can break a man. It is very satisfying, is it not?" Faust quietly probes Julio's mind again and to Julio's ears, words echo back from inside.

 

Why did you do it? Why did you kill all those people? They did nothing to you, nothing! Do you just enjoy killing, or was there something more to it? Were you ordered to do it? What?! Just tell me why you did all the terrible things you did, so I can look for it in other men and stamp it out so the likes of you can never again plague this galaxy....

 

I can't... continue... I can't let you kill any more people! FIRE!

 

"That doctor was broken before you killed him. Magnificent how your mere being drove him to his death. That is power, true power, when your presence, your history, your very existence brings about that absolute destruction of your enemies. That is the self you seem to have forgotten, Julio Furion."

 

Behind the cigar smoke, Faust's cold eyes glitter, hungry for the carnage and bloodshed that Furio so briefly experienced. "I can give that back to you," he states in a matter-of-fact voice. "These sheep, the ones you see cowering around us, hating, can be mastered by that power. If you close your eyes and try to, you can literally feel it, thick in the air as the smoke from this cigar."

 

Faust takes a soft, quiet puff, deciding to make his formal introduction. "My name is Faust. Vladmir Faust."

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He relived the last few moments of the doctor's life along with Faust, surprisingly not at all uneasy by his presence in his mind this time. The memory was too precious to be soured by another, after all, it was one of the very few he had. His lungs burned as the soft grey smoke lived its last practical moments still inside him, held there so long as the memory held out. Only when the vision ended and Faust spoke did he exhale, allowing his concentration to return to automatic functions. As Faust spoke, Julio listened, patient but intent to catch every word that left his lips. Ignoring his guest's prompting to try the detailed exercise of of simply feeling the the hate dripping from the locals. It was an interesting idea to be sure, but Julio felt he would let his guard down of he closed his eyes for even a second around this snake. What intrigued Julio most was how Faust mentioned something of returning his prior memory.

 

"Do you want to know the truth, Vladimir? I don't know why I killed those people. I had nothing against them, nor an unnatural thirst for blood or suffering. I had a...compulsion if you will, to kill those men. They needed to die." Julio unsteadily cast a quick glance around the bar, noting how many were passively listening to the conversation, saying nothing for fear of this man named Faust. "They all deserve to die. I...I don't think I hate them, or at least I'm not sure that I'm aware that I'm hating them. In fact, I'm not really sure how I feel about it."

 

He took another deep drag of his cigarette, now glad he had refused Faust's offer for a cigar. Cigars were for celebrating, or just looking classy as hell, but you never inhaled them. But his cigarette, used to its design, delivered him just the right amount of stimulus to keep his hands from shaking. Since he could remember, he had never once divulged this much about himself to anyone. He guessed it didn't really matter with Faust, since he had already seen him for the monster he was.

 

"They're all wanting. The lot of them. So much potential and what do they do with it? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. They throw it all away in ignorance and fear..." He trailed off, no longer sure the words he spoke were his any longer. They were not words that had come from Faust, this he was sure of. They came from somewhere inside him, and the scariest part was, they made sense.

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Faust just enjoys the cigar and listens. While not one for smoking, giving how he tried not to occupy his senses too much anymore, especially in public, he found his custom blend a welcome relief: fine tobacco, mixed in with just enough ground flesh to give off that hint of burning skin, and a few stimulants for that extra boost.

 

"Everyone deserves to die. Everyone has it coming. Those who are aware of this fact, those who see reality as it is, get to make the choice. We know better and we can act on this simple truth." Faust discards some of the ashes casually on the counter-top. "The feeling you may be feeling is not hatred because they are not worthy of hatred and the effort hatred requires. That feeling for the masses, the sheep, is contempt. Contempt for that waste. Contempt because worlds will burn sooner rather than later. Contempt is the low fire that runs through people, leading to hatred when those we hold in contempt dare resist us. Contempt puts things into focus, clarifies, and distills the sheep from the wolves, the prey from the hunters."

 

Faust gives an amused half-turn, visually scanning the bar, now part of a world he was controlling. "The wolves will fight over the carcasses and the sheep will die. Worlds and galaxies will burn before all is done, and all will burn in the end. The question is where will you stand before the end, and how far will you go to get there?"

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He thought for a moment, reflecting on what Faust said. The ideas he spoke of, that all deserved to die and it was only the select few that realized this that had the authority to choose how and when it would happen, seemed like a personal observation Faust had acquired during his travels rather than a righteous path laid down by eons of philosophy. Julio didn't feel it was a view he could see himself taking at the moment. He would have to learn more before he donned such a misanthropic view of mankind, but until then he would remain indifferent.

 

Julio cast a glance around the bar. Even still the patrons wore their fear poorly, not at all waning in the time the cause of their fear had been there. Why were they still so frightened? For a half hour the pair had sat and talked, and not once since then had the others at the bar done anything more than remain frozen in fear.

 

"You must certainly be the wolf of our time to keep brutes such as these locked in fear of their lives."

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Faust gives a small smile, flashing his teeth. "I've had modest successes," he admits candidly.

 

He instigated at least two wars of genocide, one against the Wookies, nearly wiped out about seven different species, including the Gungans with a bio agent, assassinated a few world leaders and leading Jedi and Sith Council members, bombed an Imperial wedding, then latter killed the bride at the request of the husband, and topped it all by all but destroying Coruscant and the nearly trillion lives on it.

 

Of course, realizing that Julio remembered nothing, it stung Faust's vast pride that recounting these stories would mean absolutely nothing.

 

"As for these brutes," Faust states, "I have no reason to be wasteful at this time. They fear wisely in this case," he murmurs with a note of satisfaction, "but since this planet was just added to the Empire and I've made myself governor (at least as soon as I notify the current Emperor I "borrowed" some of his troops that were loyal to me using covert codes...). I want this place run... efficiently... and I'm content to let people be. It's if I get a whiff of rebellion, plotting, or worse that I will unleash my wrath and gladly so."

 

Naturally, Faust let his tone carry as he said that, making it perfectly clear to all in the bar what he intended. News would spread over the capital shortly and he expected the cooperation of the populace in short order.

 

"Speaking of rebels, Jedi, and the like, how much do you remember about them?"

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"Not much, I'm afraid." He admitted, letting Faust's talks of the Empire and governorship slip from his mind. "All I really remember was waking up on Naboo. A man claiming to be my brother by the name of Syn found me, but we were attacked by some bounty hunter. The hunter was defeated, somewhat, but he left me at that point."

 

He took a sip of his burnout, but no more than a sip. The faux-water burned the whole way down.

 

"Since then I've been moving from planet to planet, evading the authorities until winding up at that damned asylum for half a year."

 

His gaze went distant as he remembered what little life he had led flash before his eyes, each encounter ending in a fine mist of bloodshed.

 

"Apparently they didn't appreciate my work." Even as he said it, he doubted his casual tone fit what he truly felt. In reality he wasn't sure of what he felt, even after his guest's compelling argument into the value of life.

 

"All I remember is what little I've gleaned from conversations I've overheard. The Rebels are attempting to make a legitimate government, the Jedi sit on their hands as usual, and the Empire is working out the new structure of the rising Emperor."

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"Ahh," Faust murmurs quietly. He raises his blaster into the air and fires off three shots in quick succession, sending out a shower of sparks. The rest of the bar immediately takes the hint and everyone leaves, giving Faust, Julio, and the Hunter's three elite troopers the place to themselves. Faust looks around, detecting no one remaining in the vincinity either visually or with the Force.

 

"A bit over the top, I admit, but effective." Faust's tone changes, taking a harder note. "What I have is a business proposal, pure and simple. I'm feeling inspired lately and realizing that this galaxy needs a bit of shaking up. I'm offering my services to the Empire and Sith because they need my services and share my vision when it comes down to it. I'm offering my services to you too."

 

Faust twirls the blaster on his finger before it vanishes back into his trench coat.

 

"I'm intending to disrupt the rebels, secure the Empire, position the Sith on firm ground, and if I can, make the Jedi rue the day they were born." Though grateful for the Jedi for healing him, Faust resented it even more. Furthermore he would prove himself right even if he had to plunge the galaxy into chaos and fire with his own two hands. Giving a sudden though, he taps his ear, having a comm relayed to his ship, and then to a few more friends in the Empire, giving Faust a small chuckle.

 

"I do appreciate your work, which is why I'm giving you this opportunity. Join up with me and you'll have a galaxy admiring and fearing your efforts. You will be in a position of authority yourself and you can force them to hide from you." Faust stands up, tossing a few coins on the counter- enough to pay for his drink and probably the damages to the ceiling, then grabs a vodka from behind the bar. "I'm calling together a strike force to start retaking this galaxy this very night I think. If you wish to join me, say so, and we can begin."

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Faust's display was almost awe inspiring, if Julio had anything else to base it off of. They would have likely run out at a stern look in their direction, but for some reason he felt the need to show force. What Faust spoke of, the Jedi and Sith, Empire and Rebels, were like stars in a far off system to Julio. He neither knew them, nor had any particular interest in them. He wanted to believe that Faust understood him, but in truth even Julio didn't understand himself, so he had no way of telling how close the things Faust believed were to the truth.

 

"To tell you the truth, Vladimir, I don't really give a damn about the Jedi or Rebels, or whatever it is you're doing. But, as it is now, I don't really have anything else to do, and I find our conversations somewhat..." He paused to look into Faust's cold blue eyes, searching for something other than the right word. "...enthralling."

 

He kept his face from showing signs of eagerness or anxiety, but truth be told he was excited. To be a part of something, anything really, was a step towards forging identity. He could begin to identify himself with a particular group, and through that with the group's views and morals. From burning down his six month long prison, to finding himself a job, today was turning out to be a good day.

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