Mon Calamari/Dac

[Krath Apothos]

“And your reason for visiting...Jin Meer?”

 

Nok smiled. “Humanitarian. I’m here with aid supplies.”

 

“...I see.” The spaceport security officer gave Nok a suspicious glance she likely thought he couldn’t see. With his silken red blindfold covering the scarred ruin where his eyes should be, it was an assumption Nok encouraged. In truth, he couldn’t ‘see’, but he could sense the quarren woman, the low fear emanating from the people walking past acting like the soft glow of a candle to his Force senses. Since slavery was illegal on Mon Calamari, he couldn’t bring his usual source of negative emotions to see by, but apparently there was nothing like a pandemic to spread quiet panic and unease.

 

“You’re thinking I’m lying because I’m a neimoidian,” Nok said, keeping his happy, innocent smile even.

 

“No Mister...Master...Lord…” she stammered.

 

“Just Jin, please.”

 

“...Jin, I hope I didn’t offend you. I did not-”

 

“It’s fine,” Nok waved dismissively. “It’s understandable. Most of my kind would rather sell these masks for 1000 credits a breath. But for me…” Nok paused, then pointed at his blindfold, “a handicap has a way of giving you a new perspective.”

 

“Of course...Jin,” she said, clearly not convinced, but flustered enough to want the conversation to end.

 

Must be someone brand new. Things are worse than I thought down here.

 

“Anyway, I believe my arrival was cleared with the portmaster.”

 

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t recall seeing you on...oh, there you are.” 

 

As difficult as it was to tell under all those tentacles, Nok thought she was frowning as she tapped at her datapad. ‘Jin’ and his ship hadn't been on the registry an hour ago. Thanks to a hefty bribe to the portmaster, Nok had gotten around that problem.

 

And to top it off, I can blackmail the man with evidence of the bribe next time I come to Mon Cal. Assuming this disease doesn't kill him.

 

“Will that be everything officer?” he asked, smile still pasted to his face.

 

“Yes...I think that will be everything.”

 

Nok’s smile turned genuine for an instant as he watched her rack her brain, no doubt trying to figure out if she’d missed anything or if she was supposed to do something.

 

“Follow me X3, and bring the supplies.”

 

The GH-7 medical droid hovered behind the controls of the repulsor sled, and at Nok’s command he piloted the overloaded sled forward.

 

“Master,” the droid said, tone mild and respectful the way Nok preferred it, “may I suggest putting on your mask now?”

 

“Right, right.” Nok slipped his mask on, a better quality one than the cheap ones in the crates behind him. Those masks would work fine, but they’d smell awful after a few hours of hot, wet breath. Well, they were just handouts, and it’s not as if charity was why Nok was here.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nok saw the clinic without seeing, the discomfort and pain of the patients mild next to their fear. It flowed through the halls like an undercurrent, washing past Nok and illuminating every room to his senses.

 

It had taken Nok explaining his cover story to one of the doctors to get inside, that he was “Jin Meer”, a representative of Meer Medical, a tiny medical supply company run by his “cousin”. In truth, it had been a legitimate company until Nok drove them into bankruptcy and took over, turning it into a front for selling pharmaceuticals to the Outer Rim at a disgusting markup . It was failing to turn a profit now, and Nok would likely liquidate the whole thing soon, along with its founder Korell Meer, a rare neimoidian with a conscience.

 

Even with his story, the doctor had been hesitant to let him in until Nok offered to lend his medical droid to help for as long as he was on the planet. The GH-7 had a solid reputation as a diagnostician, and the doctor changed his tune immediately. Now he’d likely do everything in his power to keep Nok on planet.

 

This is all a distraction. I need to get down there.

 

The shade’s message had been cryptic, but something waited for Nok here, in the 'waters of Mon Calamari." An...offering? He wondered if it was the disease itself, but that didn’t sit right. Not as the disease was right now in any case. Still, he’d have to tell GH-7-X3 to smuggle a few viral samples out. No telling when that might be useful.

 

“Now where did they put him to work?”

 

Nok picked a hallway and started down it.

Edited March 24, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

Not kriffing likely, Nok thought as the Mon Cal walked away into the sick room, the dry rasping of the infected accompanying her. Nok let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the door slid shut behind her. Maybe she’d expected him to follow, but Nok had no intention of getting anywhere near the mucus spewing, slimy, sweaty, feverish bodies of these sick fish. Still, she was odd, and not just in her saccharine, upbeat personality. There had been a moment there, an instant of negative emotion breaking through her calm positivity. Had it been fear? Anger? It had been too quick for him to catch, a bare blip to his senses. That in and of itself was odd. Everyone else was panicked and worried, but she remained calm and somehow managed to not make it an act. An instant of something throwing her off balance, and she shook it off in the time it took Nok to blink.

 

Well...used to take him anyway.

 

Come to think of it, why did she assume I could help? She must have seen that I’m blind.

 

He didn’t like this, and he didn’t like the peculiar feeling coming from the room she’d entered, like a cold, damp rag to his fear and irritation, paradoxically making him feel better as it made him more nervous.

 

There’s something more to her. Was she the offering? That’d be convenient, which meant she likely wasn’t. Still, it would be good to keep tabs on her.

 

She’d said her name was Leena. He filed it away.

__________________________________________________________________

 

Rather than follow her, Nok quickly made his way through the clinic. Wherever his droid had gone, that Cal woman had distracted him long enough to lose track of it.

 

Not worth the effort I suppose. It’s not like they’re going to run out of plague before I leave. Speaking of which…

 

A few quick questions and a hurried walk around the clinic told him he wasn’t getting out anytime soon. The city security was on high alert, and they’d never let anyone out of this place. He could try a bribe, but as afraid as everyone was it was a die toss how that might turn out. A doctor’s note then. An authorization off the datapad of some medical officer to show he was clean and the promise he was going to get more medical supplies might be enough to get him out of here.

 

Then an idea occurred to him. Perhaps a bad idea, but some of Nok’s happiest days had stemmed from bad ideas.

 

He was already bleeding money on this trip. Ventures, deals, and schemes months in the making that needed his personal attention were stalling while he took this little scavenger hunt. Why not make a little profit to take the edge off his losses? He hadn’t personally done something like this in a while, and it’d be just the thing to keep him sharp.

 

The plan itself was obvious once all the pieces were examined.

 

A clinic like this was likely a non-profit venture. That meant charitable donations,  and some of those likely from drug companies looking to polish their image. This kind of place wouldn’t see much actual currency, not without it being spent immediately anyway, but Nok was willing to bet at least a few of those drug manufacturers were sending supplies to this clinic and others like it to boost their stocks. Compassion in a tragedy like a pandemic was worth big publicity. If nothing else, some of them had to be giving the clinic a discount. All Nok had to do was get the head of the clinic’s datapad, slice his way in, and put in a couple dozen small but extremely expensive orders for rare and valuable medication and equipment. That might normally be suspicious, but in the middle of a pandemic with an unknown disease it would be understandable, and no company wanted to be seen as denying medical aid in a crisis. Discount or not the profit from selling that kind of stuff in the right Outer Rim markets would be huge, even if Nok had to foot the bill himself. The shipping would be handled by Meer Medical under Nok’s directive, graciously offering to ship the supplies for free to try and stop their falling fortunes. 

 

The supplies would never arrive and Meer Medical would disintegrate under a storm of accusations, especially when their noble founder was discovered missing. The clinic would then likely suffer the brunt of the public’s anger when it was discovered the order itself had been fraudulent, and when they learned that Korell Meer’s “cousin” had been in the clinic right before the order had taken place...well, the public liked to make its own stories. Of course they’d suspect the neimoidian, just the wrong one. Nok would be a bit richer, he’d have finally wrung some real value out of Meer Medical, and both “Jin” and Korell Meer would disappear. Nok had never liked the sniveling, self-righteous grease stain to begin with, and his studies had uncovered some old Sith rituals he’d been anxious to try. Even if the rituals were worthless or the barely trained Nok was incapable of performing them properly, it’d be interesting to see how long Korell’s sanctimonious attitude lasted. Nok doubted it would be long. He was a neimoidian after all.

 

Feeling much better with a plan and a direction in mind, he pushed away thoughts of the peculiar Leena and began looking for someone in charge.

Edited April 3, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

Nok planned as he wove his way through the halls towards the back of the clinic. First, he’d have to disable one of the droids. Once he’d done that, it shouldn’t be too hard to-

His train of thought derailed as a surge of emotion cascaded past him and submerged his mind in the torrent.

 

Panic? No, despair! He gritted his teeth against the unexpected shock to his senses, his mind blind to anything but the tide of anguish. The intensity was overwhelming, magnified...

 

The Force. This is the Force!

 

Then it was over. Nok gasped in a breath, and braced his hands against the cold floor. He was on the floor? When had that happened? His robes were bunched up, and his embroidered blindfold sat askew on his head, the disinfected air brushing against his eye sockets.

 

Getting to his feet, Nok’s mind raced. What had that been? And how had it ended so quickly? 

 

No, that wasn’t right, it hadn’t quite ended. The air still pulsed with emotion, but not the overwhelming misery of a few seconds ago. This was more chaotic, more disjointed, like the crazy ripples in a puddle after an earthquake. And whatever or whoever the source was, they were in the direction Nok was going.

 

Not my monster to kill or maiden to save, Nok thought as he turned around.

 

Except...the offering. Could this be it? It would add up. A Force-sensitive with depths of power and pain like that would be valuable enough to any Sith. That idea seemed off somehow, but Nok couldn’t pin down why. Still, it was his most solid lead, and the sooner he was off this disease riddled planet the better.

 

Nok tugged his silken red blindfold back into place shuffled forward down the hall, head down, playing the part of the blind neimoidian. If this person was at all trained in the Force, his ruse wouldn’t work, but it cost him nothing to try. If this person was the type to be offended by an act like this, they probably wouldn't respond any better to a Sith apprentice.

As he rounded the corner he got a good “look” at the carnage. Unconscious bodies littered the floor, and the sickly sweet stench of burnt skin wafted through the charred air. In the middle of it all stood the source of the shifting spectrum of emotion, a humanoid woman of some kind. The Force around her rippled and twitched as it settled, still twisting in the aftermath of power. Could be a human, but without actual eyes it was impossible to tell.

 

“Is someone there? I heard a noise. Is everyone all right?”

 

Nok stopped a foot away from walking into an orderly’s body, aiming his sightless gaze into empty space, a good foot away from the woman.

[Krath Apothos]

Nok moved with the panicked crowd through the halls of the clinic, their alarm illuminating the way clearer than he could have seen with his eyes. But he felt clear headed, sharp, even strong. The fear...fed him. No, not fed. It galvanized him, pushed him, purged him. He’d been around fear before, and he’d channeled his own terror early on, but this was the first time he could remember being so close to so many soaked in blind, animal dread without being scared himself. The panic-charged emotions of the crowd, half convinced they were about to die, flowed through him and emptied him out, yet paradoxically surged into him and swelled him with crackling, boiling life. He could feel their fear like it was his own, but it was outside him and sharpening him instead clouding his mind, the difference between the hot blood in his veins and a cool drink of water on his tongue. The closest comparison he could make was to the first time he’d tried glitterstim, but without the heady loss of perception. It made him into his best self, focused and alive.

 

Nok breathed in the clear air as he got outside and the crowd dispersed around him. No withdrawal, no manic desire for more. A drug without drawbacks. He smiled. If there was some cosmic intelligence guiding the workings of the universe, then it clearly favored people like Nok to give him such a gift.

 

The clinic exploded, sending Nok crashing to the ground.

 

Kriffing idiot. Feel smug a safe distance away from the exploding building.

 

He got up and brushed at his ruined robes, but his mood refused to dampen. He could have sworn he’d sensed...something coming out of the clinic during the explosion. Which was strange, since without some kind of negative emotion from someone nearby he shouldn’t have been able to sense something moving so fast while he was distracted by...well, an exploding clinic. Unless the thing itself was…

 

...No, that can’t be…

 

It was. In the spreading ripples of the crowd’s panic, Nok could see the woman from before standing up from the ruins of a gurney before beating what must have been fire out of her coat. He kept his distance as she promptly stole a hospital courier speeder.

 

Kind of cold, considering I’m pretty sure you caused this, he thought as she sped off. I hope you’re not what I’m here for. You strike me as “difficult”. Though, I suppose I could have offered to let GH-7-X3 treat the burns…

 

GH-7-X3 was in the clinic.

 

A low, heavy pulse of negative emotion emanated from Nok, illuminating the wreckage and pavement in stark detail. Rage.

 

That...that droid was custom. Years of upgrades. Thousands and thousands of credits on its mind alone. Dozens of databases integrated. I rewrote the root commands myself!

 

His blood boiled as he realized the sheer amount of nerf fodder he’d have to wade through just to clean up this mess. He’d have to hire some outside agent at a premium just to comb through police evidence on the off-chance they recovered that hunk of scrap’s data drive! Jin was on record entering the place before it blew, so Meer Medical was on its way down even if they couldn’t link anything to him! And that wasn’t even getting into the mountain of credits and the months of work it would take to replace that stupid, useless thing! All because some untrained, unhinged, unstable thrill junky couldn’t keep her feelings from exploding a building!?

 

Nok should have calmed down. He should have fought to keep himself under control and rational. But he didn’t. This anger felt good. Anger had been the first emotion he’d learned to properly wield in focusing the Force, and even if it wasn’t his strongest it still felt powerful, red, and raw. There was no way Nok was kriffing leaving without what he came for. This...offering, whatever that kriffing meant!

 

Fine. Even if you're not what I’m looking for, you’re the only thing that’s even come close. And considering you nearly blew me up, I think I’ll…

 

Nok stopped that train of thought, and took a deep breath, suppressing the anger. As hollow as it made him feel, the calm, little voice in the back of his mind had finally broken through. That attitude wasn’t going to get him anything but shanked or shot in an alley. He had to be calm, rational, and controlled. Revenge was like gambling. You were a sucker to play unless you could afford to lose.

 

Remember that first lesson. She’s untrained. Find her presence in the Force.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Nok walked into the warehouse, keeping his irritation at a slow-burn to let him see. There were a few others aside from the woman, and a...combat droid?

Edited April 10, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

Nok had decided the best response to lightsabers was to keep quiet and out of the way.

 

Jedi. Wonderful. Trained, LARGE, Jedi.

 

Tempers were flaring, particularly from that Cathar. If this turned into a fight between the Cathar and the dual-wielding humanoid...

No, these are Jedi. They’ll calm down, and…

 

...notice the blind man without a seeing eye droid. Perfect.

 

No chance of faking this then. No one would buy that he’d run through the streets and found his way in here without help. Fine. Stay out of their drama for now, and find yourself some insurance.

 

Nok’s thoughts were interrupted as the droid, a RHTC-560 Hunter Trainer he realized, weighed in on the conversation. Nok quirked a smile when the droid called everyone “lesser”. One of those personalities then.

 

Unfortunately he was also standing near Nok when he started talking, and was pretending to be talking to him specifically.

 

Wonderful. So much for staying out of everyone’s attention.

 

“I have to agree with the droid here. We need to calm down if we’re going to make it out of this. I don’t think anyone here wants a fight with the local law enforcement, especially when everyone is already scared from this pandemic.”

[Krath Apothos]

The droid’s offer threw Nok for a loop for a second. Not because of his sudden change in politeness, but because the suppressed vehemence of the machine wasn’t accompanied by the telltale pulse of negative emotion. If anyone living had tried that Nok would have been swimming in hatred and bile. Granted, it was a droid, but it still felt odd to hear it without feeling it.

 

Maybe I can overcome that dislike...or at least keep him on my side long enough to get me off this planet. No time to be stingy.

 

Nok kept his voice low, preferring not to shout out to the entire warehouse, though someone nearby would still be able to hear. His voice dropped into his friendliest, oiliest, most appeasing tone, the kind you use to tell the inspector what a magnificent job they're doing while you slip him a thousand creds. Act servile and let people's egos do the rest.

 

“I’ll pay you 15,000 in hard credits now to protect me. I’ll pay double that again once we’re safely off-planet, and I’ll pay you another 15,000 if I get out of here without serious injury.” Nok held up his hands. “Plus I work with some specialty droid manufacturers, so I can probably help you get replacement parts cheaper. And it goes without saying I’ll compensate you for on-the-job expenses and injuries.”

 

That's about all the hooks I've got at the moment. Best not to lay it on too thick. Just one more blatant appeal to his pride.

 

Nok shrugged as he pulled out the top of a small money purse that clicked with the distinct sound of cred sticks before tucking it back in. “Just a thought. I’m not good enough to get off this planet on my own, and I’m not against paying someone their worth for their help.” 

[Krath Apothos]

Nok felt the presence a split second before it exploded into the room. Or rather he “saw” it. Emanating from the vents, the Force twisted and writhed like a bug under a pin, only for the dark power to explode out an instant later, sending the vent grates flying in a rush of vapor.

 

All around him, something elusive slithered and spread through the air like tendrils, something that echoed with an audible voice.

 

On 4/13/2020 at 9:46 PM, Leena Kil said:

“So you have heeded my signal, lord of darkness. Your sacrifices have just begun. Come to what you once deemed my place of eternal damnation that I may exact my revenge.”

 

Well, that’s a fairly clear sign.

 

A small part of him preened at the title of “lord of darkness”. Flattery was one of Nok’s unfortunate weaknesses, but at least it was one he was usually aware of.

 

The entire warehouse was lit up with panic and terror, the equivalent of a sunny day on Cato Neimoidia for Nok. He was tempted to simply enjoy the new pleasure he found in the sensation, but the rational part of him was very aware that he was in a room filled with violent Jedi who'd just had a brush with the Dark Side. A fight here between him and them would barely qualify as a warm-up for these warriors, and Nok couldn’t go outside without getting shot or quarantined. Likely both.

He considered the nearest open vent.

 

It came from below...and it’s powerful. Powerful enough?

 

He stepped towards the grate.

 

Besides, that woman from the clinic is clearly siding with that Leena...who as it turns out is a Jedi as well, because why not? This blind man act was barely holding up before, and it’ll crumble the second she starts talking after that display. It’ll have to be enough, because my chances up here are getting slimmer.

 

He took another step towards the vent, but stopped in front of the droid.

 

“I’m leaving. Offer stands. If you think you can make it outside, then go ahead, but my offer just doubled,” he said as he pulled off two of his nova gem encrusted rings, “if you can get me to the source of that voice before getting me off planet.”

[Krath Apothos]

Nok hissed in surprise as his foot slipped during the climb down the vent. He listened to the droid as they descended, getting a better impression of the machine’s personality. In the back of his head, the smell of the gas niggled at him. 

 

Where have I smelled that before?

 

On 4/16/2020 at 10:00 AM, Xar said:

“What is this voice anyways? And who are you? So we know who to send the bill to.” 

 

“Not sure, exactly. But I’m something of a collector of Jedi and Sith history,” he said, focusing on keeping his robe out of the way of his feet while he fabricated his story. “An amateur really. But when I heard there might be something like that here, I couldn’t help myself. Hobbies and all, I’m sure you get it. Plus, artifacts of the ancient Jedi are worth fortunes, and Sith artifacts even more so. Heard there was a plague and figured a nice charitable donation would get me on the planet, then I’d have all the time in the world to search while every other collector waited for the quarantine to end. Then I could sit around on a beautiful ocean planet sipping Correllian until I got cleared to leave.” Part of that was true. Neimoidians were notorious for being resistant to disease, though they carried them just fine. “As for the voice, like I said I’m not sure, but my studies have shown me that Sith love their macabre security systems.” Nok put a slight quaver in his voice as he continued, playing the part of the sheltered academic in denial. “I’m guessing that was an automated system of some sort trying to spook intruders, and it carried up the vents with that explosion of gas.” The lie sounded pathetic even to him, and he doubted the droid would buy it, and might not even buy that Nok believed it. Let him, the point here was to play a part, even if that was the part of someone hiding poorly behind another part.

 

Though seriously, where have I smelled this before?

 

“Oh wait, you asked my name. Jin Meer, nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but I’d hate to fa-”

 

He stopped as his feet touched solid ground. He hadn’t even seen it before he stepped onto it.

 

Or in it, he corrected morosely as his shoe squished.

 

Nok jumped as the Jedi from before, Leena spoke right next to him.

 

On 4/18/2020 at 10:13 PM, Leena Kil said:

“Oh. Uh. Hello fellows. Did you, uh, happen to see a Jedi down here?  He was wearing, um, not Jedi robes.” Are you guys following the tunnel somewhere? Probably a faster way out than the doors, honestly.”

 

Perfect, no pain or fear. Of course.

 

But that wasn’t it either, not entirely. He should still be able to see a little, even if only from his own mild fear. But the Force wasn’t still. It was...agitated, like water in a gently vibrating tub. It didn’t feel like it was coming from down below either. It felt like it was coming from above, in anticipation of something. The closest thing he could describe it as was an echo in reverse.

 

Nok extended his awareness, trying to grasp it, relying on his instincts and feelings with no formal training to fall back on.

 

It’s not hate, or anything else. No...it’s something else...where...wait, yes, back then.

 

Nok remembered the last sight he had ever seen with his own eyes. The serpent. The taste of its essence hanging in the air. The edges of its mind stirring the depths of the Force.

 

That’s what I’m feeling. The intent to kill. Yes! And...death. Death but not death. Death that...is waiting. Death that hasn’t happened yet.

 

Nok took a sharp breath as he realized he was sensing the future, even if only vaguely. That got him a lungful of the gas and he doubled over coughing, chest burning from the acrid vapor.

 

Then he remembered where he’d smelled this before.

 

It had been at a mine, his first cortosis mine, where he’d stupidly taken a deep breath and started hacking like he was now. The dirty, squalid miners around him had run for their lives as soon as they smelled what he had, ignoring their employer’s confusion and abandoning him to the thing they feared most.

 

The vent passage suddenly was lit clear as day as Nok’s dread surged out through the Force.

 

“Is that...Lethane gas?!”

[Krath Apothos]

Nok was in awe. When the resounding boom of the explosion echoed through the chamber, he’d felt the rush of force and heat tearing towards them, greater than anything he could have pushed back with the Force. He wasn’t even sure if he could push on something like that. The tentacle-faced man was down on the ground, Leena the Jedi seemed to be out of ideas, and the droid didn’t look like it was interested in saving anyone at the moment.

 

Then the woman who’d exploded with emotion and power at the clinic tossed something, and a burst of cold and power erupted that he could only assume stopped the explosion, given that they weren’t dead.

 

On 4/23/2020 at 4:46 PM, Scorpion said:

“And I guess thirdly is, does anybody have any idea which direction we’re headed?”

 

Nok took a moment to gather himself. “That explosion sounded like it came from above us. I’m guessing that warehouse isn’t there anymore, so we’re not getting out that way. And given what that explosion implies, I’m not going up there anytime soon anyway to ‘turn myself in’.” He frowned. “That was Lethane gas. It comes from cortosis. There might be a mine down there.”
Nok wanted to descend deeper and follow the voice, but admitting you were actively looking for Dark Side voices in deep caverns seemed like a quick way to get a lightsaber to the throat.
He thought for a second, and decided. “I’m heading down there. Better to find a mine or another corridor than to wander around up here and hope security doesn’t think to search for survivors.” He was well aware how crazy that sounded after the dark voice, but he was willing to play up the naive academic in denial a little longer.

Edited April 25, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

As the group sloshed down the corridor through what had to be raw sewage, Nok kept quiet. The droid and the Jedi together seemed more than capable of filling the silence, and better yet they didn’t need someone to respond to keep them going. That big one though...he was strange. Nok could barely see him from the faint fear and minor aches of the others. He was empty and still, as if he was dead.

 

Still, Nok was grateful to be ignored. It helped him to focus on...the cold.

 

It had crept up on him, but now he felt it sink in. A malicious, invasive presence, moving with hints of intelligence.

 

Dead in the cold and dark.

 

Nok gritted his teeth as he felt a surge of uncontrolled fear run raw against the underside of his skin, the words dredging up a familiar sensation with fresh intensity.

 

No. I am in control of my fear. That vision is my weapon, not-

 

Your end?

 

Nok’s heart seemed to stop for a second. Had that...no, that had been his own mind, fueled by this place, by this presence.

 

Your destiny awaits below. Stall. Stall and run. Run to the sun and be warm.

 

No! He thought fiercely, shutting out the treacherous thoughts as his skin crawled in the chill. I will not give up! I am Nok Morliss! I fought and killed my way to where I am, and I will take anything I want from this pointless universe! Nok’s confidence gained footing as he reminded himself of his victories, his deals, his vast wealth. I’m smarter than them! I’m better than them! Everything I’ve earned and taken from the fools of this galaxy is proof! And I’ll have more, because that’s what I am!

 

I am a conqueror!

 

Nok’s mind turned as cold as the air as he took control. He dissected the fear running through him, analyzing it until it was nothing but a sensation, just like the cold. A tool to be partnered with the Force and his intelligence.

 

Flashes of Nok’s siblings sprang into his mind, memories that had been indistinct suddenly clear. He saw their mewling and their groveling as they envied their elders. He saw himself, pretending to be one of them as he snatched and cultivated wealth and power.

 

You’re just another one of them, part of the set. You’ve always been one of them. You just convinced yourself that you were special. Just like every idiot you’ve conned.

 

You are not real. You’re my own mind.

 

Am I? Then I know you best, don’t I?

 

Nok could feel his control slipping as the fear squirmed free, doubts fraying his focus.

 

You think that because you robbed a few Outer Rim rubes and hedge-fund brats that you’re something special? You’re just an opportunist, a vulture with a little more bite and a little less patience. You think you can stack up to a real Jedi? Or a real Sith!?

 

Nok fumbled in the sleeve of his robes until his fingers closed around the hilt of one of his vibro-knives.

 

This. I earned this.

 

...You only killed one howlrunner.

 

I...no, I had the other killed as a lesson to myself. To never surrender!

 

I think you actually believe that.

 

Nok head throbbed, and his skin felt like he was submerged in a hill of clinging, stinging insects.

 

Be quiet! You’re my mind! Mine! You’re mine! You will-

 

The Jedi tripped and fell into the hole.

 

The “sight” broke Nok out of his trance. His own inner turmoil was providing plenty of negative emotion to see by, but he’d barely realized they’d even come to a pit. And then the Jedi had just...tripped.

 

Then the large one jumped after her.

 

Nok collected himself as he entertained the possibility that he was hallucinating. Could he even hallucinate with the way he was?

 

No. It was real. It felt real. As real as the squish of bodies landing in yet more raw sewage.

 

Nok’s resigned acceptance that his expensive, custom robes were a total loss at this point surprised him. The fear was gone.

 

He grimaced as he sucked in a breath.

 

I am a conqueror.

 

He jumped.

[Krath Apothos]

This had better be worth it.

 

Nok had smelled raw sewage before, though never from this close, and this stuff was actually worse, despite how impossible that seemed. On top of the overwhelming normal stench of normal sewage, this glop radiated the overwhelming scent of fish. Nok thought back to the nubian spinefish drenched in shaak butter and garnished with powdered lux urchin he’d eaten three days ago, and had to fight not to wretch.

 

Wonderful, now seafood is ruined for me.

 

Nok heard the others moving through the sludge, and saw them through the throbbing aches he’d earned from the fall. He also saw…

 

Yes, there, an opening about 12 feet up. He couldn’t be sure if the others could see it in the dark.

 

Enough. I’m not sitting in this muck waiting for them to find the exit. I doubt they were buying the blind man routine to begin with.

 

Nok waded over to the wall directly below the fissure, firmly ignoring the texture of whatever his feet were stepping in, and slapped his hands as hard as he could against the stone.

 

The stinging in his palms illuminated the stone wall to his mind, showing in stark detail the chinks and cavities peppering the surface. He reached up and grasped a knob of rock, his sewage slick fingers slipping for a second but eventually finding their grip. Then Nok began to climb.

 

He smiled as he pulled himself out of the muck with a SCHLUCK. This reminded him of when he’d first started making his fortune, sabotaging his own customer’s operations to drive them into debt and into his control. He’d been fierce then, hungry. He remembered squirming through air shafts, cramming himself into shipping crates for hours, slicing computers with second-hand local equipment…

 

And now I’m covered in sewage, free-climbing a wall in a Lethane filled mine on a quarantined planet. There was a reason I stopped doing this nonsense.

 

Nok rolled over the lip into the fissure, and took a second to catch his breath. He could barely “see” up here, away from the others and with the stinging in his palms subsiding.

 

He considered calling on the terror of the vision again, but after the internal conversation before the jump he was no longer sure he could control that torrent of emotion if he invoked it.

 

Alright, different plan then.

 

He pulled out one of his vibro-knives, keeping it off, and before he could think better he drove the dull, rounded hilt into the meat of his upper left arm. Then he did it again, and again, until his left arm throbbed with what would definitely be bruises. He flexed, the pain sharpening with each motion and lighting up the passage. Concealing the knife back in his sleeve, he started on the downward path.

 

There was no question in his mind that he was going down, not up. The argument he’d had with himself had lit a fire in him, and he wasn’t going to quit now. Never surrender. He might retreat, rethink, or restrategize, but he would never truly give up on something he wanted. That’s what made him different. That’s what made him better.

 

He could almost hear the voice mocking him with silent insults that struck home nonetheless. Was he just fooling himself? Was he just some lucky and arrogant grifter, a bottom-feeder waiting to get stepped on?

 

Fitting planet to die on if I am.

 

The passage descended straight at first, but eventually changed into a winding passage that moved with the contours of the rock rather than cut into it. The Lethane was growing thicker, and Nok’s lungs started to burn as he struggled to breathe. He channeled the pain into power and kept going. He wasn’t thinking now. He was going to win, he was going to get what he came for, or he would die trying. This wasn’t some con or mission anymore, this was him alone with the howlrunners, the two beasts starved and snarling as they eyed the worn neimoidian. This was wrestling mind-to-mind with that serpent on Kuat. This was fighting for his life against that tree-thing on Garn.

 

Then, like passing through a door into a heated room out of the cold, the Lethane cleared. Nok sucked in a deep breath of sweet air, confused. Had he passed the gas’s source? Lethane did rise, but the change was so sudden, like entering a force field.

 

Nok took in his surroundings, the throbbing aches in his battered left arm acting as his light.

Edited May 2, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

On 5/2/2020 at 6:26 PM, Xar said:

“Meer! When we offerred our help, we didn’t think you’d be doing suicidal commitments like that…”

 

Nok wanted to shout something back about his views on hazard pay, but decided to just ignore the comment. Soaked in sewage, trapped in a cave on an ocean planet with a bunch of lightsaber wielding Jedi, and running towards some...thing, he didn't trust himself to be civilized. So long as the droid did his job for as long as possible it didn't matter if he complained.

 

Besides, if he leaves early, I don't have to pay him.

 

On 5/4/2020 at 8:42 PM, Leena Kil said:

Leena grabbed at Nok’s slimy robes trying to pull him close, the darkness that seemed to echo about them dwarfing what she felt radiating from the man. “Whatever darkness you carry, this is beyond you. Who are you and what are you doing? Can’t you feel it calling?”

Nok wrenched away.

 

"GET OFF ME YOU-" Nok stopped him himself and grimaced. This place, that presence...he couldn't trust himself.

 

I...won't retreat.

 

He modulated his voice to something more polite. "Yes, I feel it. As for who I am and what I'm doing, would you believe anything I told you?"

 

Those words, they aren't old Sith.

 

"I'm not here to hurt anyone. And before you ask, I'm not a Sith. I'm just an...interested amateur." He ran his lie through his head as he talked, until he thought it had enough truth to sound convincing enough to buy. "Look, I found out I was...like you. Sensitive. It's even how I see now. When I found out, I got my hands on every bit of Sith and Jedi lore I could find, but it wasn't enough. The Sith, I mean the living ones, were the only option that had answers. I mean, you Jedi are a bit hard to find and have traditionally...not gotten on well with neimoidian culture. But in any case, I was an idiot, a businessman who thought money and position would protect me from those monsters." He tightened his jaw for effect. "Don't believe whatever the news has been saying, those animals are sadistic killers, nothing more.  Before I knew it, I was drafted or kidnapped or something into serving a warrior darth and was off to the battle of Kuat. Fortunately for me, my new master disappeared in the fighting after giving me just enough of a start in the Force to see once I got blinded." Nok covered his face with his palm. "I wasn't even in the actual battle. It was some animal that got me, a snake I think, though it happened fast and I don't remember much about it. I got off-planet, but the Sith Empire has me in their records, and I'm not anxious to get caught again. More than that, I need answers. I've been having dreams, the same vision over and over and over and it's terrifying me!" Nok shuddered, then collected himself. "Anyway, nothing smooths things over like an old-fashioned bribe. I've found a relatively reasonable Sith that I think I can deal with, but he'll only deal with me if I prove myself by bringing him something. I didn't even know what I was coming here for, just that I'd find something. And I'm willing to bet THAT" he said waving his hand at the darkness "has something to do with it. I'm not leaving. I'm not going to go the rest of my life in terror every night, afraid I'm going to die in...that I'm going to die in pain."

 

He sighed. "There. That's my story. I know it's probably foolish, but I don't have any other options. And if the Sith can't give me answers...then maybe something down here will. But I am not dying on anyone's terms but mine."

 

Not a bad try. If I'd had the chance to rehearse it, I could have really emphasized some of those emotional points, but that was still good for an off-the-top.

 

Besides, I don't have to convince her it's true. I just have to make her doubt. Selfless person like her...well, better not to count on anything down here, but I seriously doubt she'll try to kill me now.

Edited May 8, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

On 5/9/2020 at 4:33 PM, Xar said:

“Hmmm…” Xar studied it, then handed it back to the Nemoidian and slowly moved on. “Residue. From whatever was being mined here. Is this what you are hoping to find?” 

"Cortosis. No, but valuable," Nok replied, a note of disinterest in his voice. He wasn't here for rocks, but if it kept the others occupied, then they were welcome to it.

 

At the bridge, he grimaced. His ache in his arm was starting to fade, and with it his vision. He stepped out onto the length of stone without waiting and shuffled across.

 

The droid proved its safe, and there's no sense in separating from the one heavily armed thing in this cavern protecting me.

 

He tamped down on his emotions, forcing himself to stay calm. That voice was worming its way inside, but it didn't sound hostile. More like...a call?

 

Is anyone there?

 

 

He cringed after thinking the question, half expecting to hear his own voice mocking him again.

[Krath Apothos]

Still as stone, Nok listened to the Sith commando's declaration, and then his ultimatum. Seconds passed, with his brow furrowed and his gaze fixed on empty space. Then, his shoulders relaxed, a decision made. His soft voice stayed calm and even as he spoke.

 

"We can't be taken prisoner. They'll kill the Jedi, and maybe the rest of us as collaborators. Or worse, they could take us prisoner. We have to pick up the pace. We might find a split in the path or a place we can barricade to stall them. Anyone who feels like a noble sacrifice, now would be the time."

 

Nok didn't wait, or pretend to make any show of being blind. Purpose infused each long stride as he made his way to the front of group and kept going, hesitation absent.

 

As he passed Xar, he spoke in the same even voice. "Whatever happens, don't shoot the soldiers."

 

"Or do, but then you're fired."

Edited May 22, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

Nok moved to the edge of the pit. His blind regard switched from artifact to artifact, and his fingertips began to unconsciously rub together, a slight smile quirking the edges of his mouth.

22 hours ago, Xar said:

“Meer!” Xar uttered as his light bathed the room in a crimson red. He stepped closer and had his claws open, ready. 

 

“The Sith have what they want. And we believe this…” Xar gestured to the room, specifically to the breathing sound, “...is what you want, no? So tell us...who are you, really? And what is this? We demand to know...now”

Nok's body froze. Then, smoothly, he turned to the droid.

 

"Fine. My name is Nok Morliss. I'm a wealthy entrepreneur and an amateur Sith. I was tasked by a potential master to come to Mon Calamari and retrieve...something." He turned his face upward, as if in thought. "I'm not sure what, that was kept fairly vague. Just an 'offering' of some kind. When the dark voice started talking and the chanting began, I made what I think is a rather reasonable assumption and decided it was linked to what I came for. Judging by this room," he said, a smile splitting his face, "I'd say I was right. Even a tenth of the rubble in here is valuable, not to mention an excellent bribe for any Sith on Onderon." He turned back to the droid. "I think you'll understand why I wanted to keep this from the more 'old-fashioned' members of the group. True to form, they've gone off to die gloriously.

 

And thanks to your quick thinking, we'll have a chance to explain ourselves to the troopers. My ship and identity are both registered by the Sith Imperial census bureau, so if we can get them to not shoot us long enough to look up my name, we should be fine." He grinned wider. "Especially with something like this lab to offer. Play it smart, and we'll get out of this alive, and may be richer than we started. There is still that reward out on Jedi right?"

 

Nok turned back to regard the pit.

 

"Now, before we start congratulating ourselves, I should tell you that I'm having trouble sensing down there, which I think unfortunately means we've reached the end of the line," Nok said, pointing down.

Edited May 25, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

On 5/25/2020 at 11:21 PM, Xar said:

“If this is the end of the line, then where is that voice of yours?” Xar asked. With a curious intention, Xar picked up a loose pebble with his foot claws, brought it up to his hands, and threw it into the waters. 

"If I had to guess, somewhere down there. I think-"

 

Nok stopped as a deep boom followed by a low rumble that swelled into the roar of shattering stone echoed through the chamber. Throughout it, he remained perfectly still, but as the cacophony subsided, he turned his head and stared blindly towards the tunnel entrance that had been the source of the explosion.

 

"...someone survived that." His mouth pursed in a thoughtful expression. "Just one...and in pain. Broken ribs, at least." Nok stayed silent for several long moments. Then, what was left of his eyes widened, the ugly scars spreading out from under the blindfold stretching and twisting in his expression of surprise.

 

Then, just as quickly, his expression brightened, a smile sliding onto his face. He turned to Xar and kept his voice low. "I think we just hit on a stroke of luck." Looking back at the hole, he wryly added, "assuming whatever's down there didn't just get woken up." He stood up. "Let's go collect our friend."

 

Maintaining as much class as possible in a robe soaked with fecal matter, Nok started towards the tunnel and the survivor.

[Krath Apothos]

21 hours ago, Scorpion said:

“I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE GORRAM CAVES! Now! I’m not going to say it again.” Sara briefly sputtered, expelling seawater caught in her mouth. “STEP OFF!”

 

The Zeltron held the saber’s blade at a lethal angle between her and Xar and stared him down with manic chaos in her amber gaze.

 

Nok held up his hands, stopping roughly 30 feet away. The woman's form churned the Force around her, illuminating her body from within like a bonfire in a bottle. His voice was steady and serious, no pretense or smooth words to speak of.

 

"Calm down. You're angry. You're in a lot of pain. You're scared. I can feel it. Just take a few breaths and think. I promise there are ways out of this."

 

He waited, taking slow, measured breaths.

 

"You have four choices." He extended his hand with four fingers up. He started ticking them down.

 

"One, you can shoot me with that gun. Though," his sightless gaze deliberately fixed on her trembling hand, "I wouldn't bet on your aim. If you miss me, the droid will kill you before you can fire again. If you hit me, the droid will still kill you because he won't be getting paid and lightsabers are worth a lot of money.

 

Two, you can shoot the droid. You might damage him a little, but I doubt you'll kill him before he kills you.

 

Three, you can give me the gun. You have no way out, and if you want to bleed out what's left of your life here on the floor or get arrested and killed by the Sith for being a Jedi collaborator, that's your business. But I'm not turning my back on someone with a gun pointed at me.

 

Four," Nok's face remained passive, "you give me that lightsaber. I want it. I don't intend to use it. That's all I'll say on that. You do that, and when the Sith eventually dig their way in here, I'll tell them you work for me. If we both make it out of here, I'll give you transport off-planet."

 

He spread his hands, his voice still neutral.

 

"Those are your options as I see them. Now think carefully, because you don't get to choose twice. And if you don't choose, someone else in here will."

[Krath Apothos]

Nok's gray-green face was stony as the fiery woman refused his offer. His expression didn't so much as twitch as she shouted at him, her anger cascading outwards in a torrent of emotion to match the rising seawater. Nok's shoulders dropped a bare fraction when she started insulting the droid. Her fate was decided now.

 

The neimoidian mogul's outward composure finally broke when, surprisingly, the woman didn't suffer an immediate craniotomy. Instead, in a burst of speed that could only have come from the Force she actually managed to outmaneuver the droid and ran through the rising water. His body tensed as he sidestepped, a knife dropping into his left hand, but the woman barely seemed to see him as she raced towards the hole. A second later Nok was shoved to the side as his mercenary bodyguard barreled past him with a speed and focus only a mechanical death machine could muster.

 

Gotta admire her spirit. She's no coward.

 

He raised his empty right hand. 

 

But that saber is mine...

 

His mind unraveled into the Force, the physical sensations fading to unimportant pinpricks of cold light like distant city lights. All around him the power of the Dark Side writhed and pulsed, a fire that clutched, consumed, and wove through everything it touched. Beyond it, in an infinite web of snares and connections, was the universe itself. At that moment, Nok felt like he was grasping everything.

 

...and I'm done pretending.

 

Dead in the cold and dark

 

Fear raced through Nok, fear of death, fear of weakness, and fear of failure. He tamed it, channeling it into the thick, acrid power of the Dark Side and compelled it, twisting it around the beacon of passion and pain running through the water.

 

The Force pull wasn't elegant, or even very strong. Even with his attempts at practice, Nok's telekinetic abilities hadn't seen much improvement without formal training. To a tough-as-leather spacer like that woman, it would be the equivalent of getting hit with a thick, wet pillow in the chest. It would only slow her down.

 

But her ribs were broken, and with the droid right behind her...

 

<<Kill Shot Assist on Sara Corion>>

[Krath Apothos]

She died defiantly rather than lose control.

 

Nok's lip curled contemptuously.

 

Fool. Blind, dead fool.

 

Control was an illusion. You only lost it when you stopped believing you had it. Nok was trapped underground in a flooding cave with a psychotic droid that could turn on him if he so much as insulted it. Not an ideal situation, but he had his mind and so he had as much control as he'd ever had.

 

Only the weak thought they could ever lack control over their own choices, and only the arrogant thought they controlled anything else.

 

The seawater rushed past Nok's legs, soaking and tugging at his heavy robes. Grimacing, he activated the vibroknife still in his left hand and sliced his ruined robes away, letting them drop into the current and flow into the pit. Underneath, he wore black noghri leathers, tailored to fit his taller frame. His other three vibroknives, curved blades with horn grips and a different sigil engraved on each, sat nestled in their wrist sheaths, and his hold-out blaster hung snug at his hip. He shut off his knife and drew the inactive blade across the tip of his finger, pain blossoming and illuminating the cave like a candle while blood dripped into the water below.

 

Perception is power, but no one to pretend for now.

 

"Good work," he said to Xar as he approached. "She's dead, I-"

 

He stopped as the unmistakable sound of creaking metal echoed up from the chamber below, barely audible over the rushing water. Nok got the faintest impression of shapes moving through the water.

 

Droids...

 

He smiled. "I guess this place isn't as empty as we thought. Good thing. We needed someone to ask for directions."

 

Looks like a good twenty feet down. Fall probably killed her. As for me...

 

Master Miwak, one of Nok's instructors, had taught him how to roll into a fall, but twenty feet was tricky at best and he hadn't practiced in some time.

 

Dead in the cold and dark.

 

Fear raced through him in waves in time with his breathing. Nok sunk into the emotion, channeling it into something useful. In that clarity, he had an idea, something he'd read about but never attempted.

 

Nok wasn't about to stay up here. Sheathing his knife, he exhaled. Then he jumped.

 

As he fell, he pushed with the Force as he had before, but now on himself instead of a fleeing woman. Even as he did, he could feel how he'd done it wrong, the move clumsy and and uncertain. It slowed him down, but through him off his balance. Instinctively, he tucked his legs like he'd been taught.

 

Pain blossomed as he crashed into the water and rolled in the current. A pathetic landing that would have had his trainers beating him, but with the clumsy Force push it was enough to keep him from breaking any bones. That being said, Nok's formerly unbruised arm now ached, adding to the illumination of his Dark Side vision. With it, he could see through the water to the droids approaching...and to a metal hilt rocking back and forth in the current next to the corpse of the woman.

Edited June 17, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

Nok's hand closed around the lightsaber hilt hidden under the chilled water. Surreptitiously he clipped it to his belt and didn't mention it. Xar had killed the woman, but he didn't seem interested in the valuable weapon, and Nok didn't want to draw his attention to it if he could help it.

 

18 hours ago, Leena Kil said:

The four well-worn droids, dripping with water and slopping moss creaked to a halt as their feet reached the edge of the blackened waters. There, they stood, silent sentinels regarding the droid and nemoidian without acknowledging Xar’s order.

 

Still in pain from his fall, Nok could see the shape of the peculiar droids. They were no model he recognized, and they seemed decidedly fish-like in their design with their heads eerily similar to a Mon Calamari. He struggled to comprehend how they were still standing, but couldn't tell if they were even running anymore. They didn't appear to be armed, and weren't moving to stop Nok and Xar, so he hoped they were nonfunctional or at least didn't see the pair as threats.

 

18 hours ago, Leena Kil said:

“Çağırışa qulaq asmaq üçün daha layiqli bir qurban gözləyirdik. Nə olursa olsun, yetər. Dərhal qəbul üçün hazırlayın.” a dark otherworldly voice rumbled out of the swirling blackness that began to slowly churn out over the waters behind the droids.

 

One of Nok's knives dropped back into his left hand as his right drew his blaster. The voice moved through the Force, spoke through the Force, but had no apparent source. Nok's attention fell on the altar and the skeletal remains laid atop it.

 

His grim, tight lips creeped up into a macabre smile. He'd read about the labs of Force-sensitives amassing knowledge of concepts like souls and spirits centuries beyond modern science, and an altar in a lab filled with a dark presence matched the ideal perfectly.

 

He crouched as he tamped down his dreams of the possible treasure trove they'd found, and forced his thoughts onto a more cautious track.

 

The source of that voice...the corpse? A guardian?

*Rumble*

 

Is that...panic?

 

19 hours ago, Leena Kil said:

And still, the force ruled over it all. The froth of icy black picked up the adventurers and carried them forward, tossing and tearing at them until it slammed into the end of the tunnel. Then and only then could it even begin to subside as it regurgitated much of the contents of its gullet into the pit below.

 

Water, sea creatures, and adventurers were thrown into the pit amongst an unhealthy amount of water that surged over and through the desecrated laboratory until it met with the still waters where the aged droids stood.

 

Springing back at the sudden deluge, Nok half leapt, half sprinted to the wall and pressed his back against it. Water surged past his feet, and to Nok's Force senses, he saw the panicked struggle of sea creatures slipping into the flooding lab like dropped glowballs. Then, larger things dropped through. People.

 

19 hours ago, Leena Kil said:

In that moment, the four sentinels sprung to life with more agility than one might expect from an ancient robot. Sprinting towards the crashing junction of water and ancient air, the droids encircled the downward flowing geyser. Each droid lifted it’s hand towards another, a bluish purple glow kindling in the dim chaos until beams of light shot from each palm. The laser like blasts all interconnected and began to spread in sparking circles. Slowly raising their hands the expanding glows of energy became a single growing circle that cut off the water as it crashed over the edges of the energized barrier. Lifting the barrier towards the ceiling, as the droids raised their hands upwards, water continued to rain down until the shield connected with a hiss to the ceiling. And then suddenly, the cascade of death was stopped, leaving nearly waist deep water spanning the once lab, froth forming at the rocky walls. Aside from a few shelves that clung desperately to the edged, and the wall mounted ghoulish green lights, the only thing that remained visible was the stone altar and it’s long-dead sacrificial skeleton. Under foot, bits of broken who-knows-what continued to swirl as the waters began to settle.

 

Alright, so they're functional after all.

 

Nok sidestepped along the edge of the wall towards the back of the room, away from the droids and the altar. Fate or chance or the Force had granted him a surplus of new people, and if any of them were his companions who'd gladly thrown themselves at the Sith, he had no doubt they'd trigger whatever danger was here first if he just held back.

 

Still...the feel he got from the newcomers was different...

 

He sheathed his knife and holstered his pistol, but kept his hands ready to draw again.

[Krath Apothos]

The screams of the troopers accented the bursts of terror that washed across the room. Nok watched in stunned fascination as the...creature swallowed Xar before spitting him back out. The droid, true to its ego, got right back up, shouted orders, and fired at the thing. And yet, Nok couldn't actually see the monster. The Dark Side warped around it in a haze, only giving Nok glimpses of teeth as the troopers were drawn struggling toward the unseen maw.

 

Backpedaling, he raised his hands, gathering the Force to him before throwing the most powerful push he could at the nearest tentacles, hoping to give the troopers enough space to start firing back. He immediately began gathering for another push, gritting his teeth as his mind raced to find a way out of this.

 

The Sith who'd been washed in with them, that was the their best hope. Even now, the Dark Side coalesced around him in subtle patterns and complex currents Nok would never have been able to picture. The power moving through this man was greater than any he'd seen before.

[Krath Apothos]

That is power.

 

Nok watched the currents of the Dark Side respond to the passions of the Sith as he scythed and weaved through tentacles' grip. He did not grip the Force and wield like a crude weapon. He flowed through it, and it wove to his desire, a beast anticipating its master, a body obeying its mind.

 

I see. I see where I was wrong.

 

Nok had only ever seen Darth Akheron truly wield the Dark Side, the man a font of focused power that crackled and scorched the universe with pure intensity, like the moment of a bomb's detonation preserved in a life-form. Nok had been aping him, trying to gather that intensity with each expression of the Force, only to be frustrated time and again as it came slowly and slipped his grasp. But this new lord...he was a creature of power, but not the same as Akheron, any more than a cloaking field was the same as a blaster bolt. His power was subtle and fluid, and he ran with it instead of wielding it.

 

But...that's not my way either, is it? I need to go back to the beginning. Nok let his Force attack fall and let the gathered strength drain. This was important, he knew it was important without knowing why.

 

I don't wield. I don't flow.

 

Nok couldn't close his eyes. He simply stopped looking outward. The world, the battle, the task, it all faded away.

 

I unravel.

 

Nok's mind let go, and he unspooled into the Force. His mind threatened to pull apart as it rode the currents of life, power, and passion. He let it. That fear that had threatened to overwhelm him, the invasive presence he'd recoiled from, returned at his call as if it had never left. Maybe it hadn't. Stronger than ever, it coalesced around him, whispering his own thoughts.

 

Are you a conqueror? A coward? Or nothing at all?

 

I don't know what I am.

 

...

 

Good answer.

 

Nok did not rise out of the depths of the Force. He came out the other side.

 

The battle raged around him much as it had before. The fear, rage, and death resonated through the chamber, giving Nok the vision he needed. But now he saw more. He saw intricacies to the currents that the passions of the dying stirred. He the faintest hint of patterns and structure in the rolling energy that moved unseen by organic and artificial eyes. But more than that, he understood it. His comprehension wasn't academic or conscious. It was a part of him. He just had to let go to take hold.

 

"I am one with the Force...

 

...and the Force serves me."

 

Nok didn't gather the Force or try to move with it. He touched it gently. The Force responded as he knew instinctively that it would. His hand held out in mimicry of his will, he gestured at one of the tendrils that had gotten close. He grasped it and flung it aside into the stone wall, the wet slap of cartilage and meat hitting stone reverberating in Nok's ears like a victory bell.

 

No delay, no clumsiness, no difficulty. It had been as easy as tossing a stick from his hand.

 

I don't wield the Force. I don't flow with the Force. I unravel into the Force, and so I understand it.

[Krath Apothos]

The Force swirled in a torrent of fear and passion that matched the physical water flowing past the legs of the creature's victims. Nok had only as moment to appreciate it as he gestured at the nearest risen corpse, sending the limping cadaver tumbling backwards with an act of will into the monster's gullet.

 

Perhaps it won't like the taste of rotted meat, he thought sourly.

 

The power the creature displayed was incredible. It flowed out from it, embracing its puppets in a subtle saturation Nok couldn't parse. It was strange, alien, and vast.

 

And arrogant.

 

The creature's mystique had dimmed slightly after it threatened them in Basic. There was a mind there, a mind as limited and emotional as any humanoid. A powerful, hungry mind, but not a god.

 

Putting aside his impulse to bask in his newfound perspective of the Dark Side, Nok's analytical mind turned and ground away at this new evidence.

 

It doesn't just want us dead. If it did, it'd stop the droids from holding back the sea. It wouldn't be talking to us.

 

It has an ego. A grudge. It wanted us here. As an audience?

 

No...

 

It needs us to get out.

 

His thoughts were interrupted as he spotted a small orb hurtling towards the monster's maw. A thermal detonator.

 

A grin spread across Nok's face. Holding out both hands, he gestured at the tendrils nearest to the explosive, knocking them aside and away from the incoming weapon.

[Krath Apothos]

On 7/14/2020 at 11:09 AM, Leena Kil said:

Behind the group, the three droids that had been holding back the deluge stopped. The purple glow on their hands fading as they turned, the thunderous crash of water filling the cavern as they turned, sure footed and leapt. Two towards Xar, reaching and grasping for wires and loose plates, tearing and pulling. Another at Nok Morliss, intent on rendering flesh from bone with it’s vice-like fingers.

Nok turned his sightless gaze on the droid, hands remaining still as he touched the Force. Fear ran through him, crystallizing and echoing through his will. Nok was a part of the Force, a spreading stain like blood in the water. This creature was a simple machine, a tool.

 

He inhaled, exhaled, and pushed. The droid slipped and slammed into the water as Nok shot its feet out from under it. It was up in a second, and barreling towards Nok.

 

"Fine. I'd hoped to discourage you, but..."

 

Nok waited as the droid closed in, durasteel fingers extended. He waited...waited...waited.

 

The droid reached for his neck.

 

"No."

 

Nok ignited the lightsaber he'd taken from the zeltron. He might not have been trained to use it, but pointing it away from him while concealing it in his sleeve was well within his skills.

 

The droid jerked to a stop as the blade penetrated its neck. Its red lights flickered briefly, then went dead.

 

Quote

“You owe us a lot of money Nok! Now kill that Sith-traitor thing! Then we can get out of here.” 

 

"Never fear, you're getting paid. Now we just need to figure out how we're going to escape alive."

[Krath Apothos]

Nok breathed. In. Out. In. Out.

 

He stood on the edge of the burning city, Sith soldiers running around him as his Sith savior strode away surrounded by troops.

 

You survived.

 

I survived.

 

The cold, the dark, the shadow of death had hung over him but failed to hold him down. His focus shifted to the lightsaber hilt in his hand. He had survived where another died.

 

I was right. I was always right. But it's not enough...

 

I've hidden for so long, been so afraid of revealing myself, of coming into the light. Hiding isn't an option anymore. I am Sith. Enemies will be drawn to this power, enemies I may not understand or see coming. Monsters that will see through the shadows.

 

I need more. I need power.

 

As if in answer, a wave roared against the city barriers, temporarily overcoming the screams and howling flames. Nok's mind, coming down off the adrenaline, began to assemble something like an idea. Disparate pieces wove together into a picture, something vivid and daring. He saw the future of this world. He saw how it could be his.

 

Nok breathed. In. Out. In. Out. And he smiled.

 

"Xar! I believe I owe you some payment? And if you're interested...I have a job for you."

[Krath Apothos]

Nok turned to the droid, and studied for several long moments. Then, he pulled out a datapad, and began tapping at it.

 

When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth and amiable.

 

"120,000 was the amount we originally agreed on if you got me to the source of the voice and got me out again without serious injury. Seeing as I also offered to pay you for any injuries or repairs, I'm going to round that up to 140,000 credits. Unless you're planning on coating yourself in liquid chromium, that will be the extent I'll pay for repairs. If you disagree, feel free to provide me with a maintenance quote indicating you incurred over 20,000 credits worth of damage." The amount stung, but Nok would make it up once he gutted Meer Medical and sold the equipment and freighters to the cartels. "I'll also pay the 2800 for the schematics and info now as well," he said, tapping a few more times on the datapad. "Counting the 15,000 I already gave you, that's...127,800 credits."

 

He lowered the datapad and pulled out the lightsaber, staring down at it as the aches and bruises of the last few hours emanated soft ripples in the Force and outlined the hilt.

 

"I will not pay for this. Not because I can't afford to, but as a matter of principle." He lifted his sightless gaze to meet Xar's. "You killed her, true, but this is mine. I'm not going to throw out any technical smokescreens or legalistic jargon to defend myself. If I were in your position, I'd probably do what you're doing. I'm not going to make this into a lesson or a power play or some display of superiority. 

 

I'm simply making a claim.

 

This. Is. Mine.

 

If that's a problem, then simply type in the ID code of the account of your choice here," he said, holding out the datapad where a credit transfer of 127,800 was ready to be confirmed, "and do what you need to do. I have a job offer for you that could easily triple what you're about to make." He held the datapad out further. "I won't surrender on this Xar. The choice is yours."

 

Nok waited. In the cold, clean corridors of his logical mind, he knew he was being foolish. He should just pay the droid for the weapon and move on. But he wouldn't. There was a line he wouldn't cross, a time when surrendering wasn't just part of a plot or the smart move but when it was true surrender. This was that line, that time.

 

I ate the howlrunner to prove something. I won't surrender.

 

 

Edited August 5, 2020 by Nok Morliss
Wrong credit amount

[Krath Apothos]

Jorl Edda, chief administrative officer of Mon Calamari shipyards, looked stressed. While it was difficult to gauge emotion from the fishlike faces of the Mon Calamari, the unhealthy pale skin and dull eyes of the CAO spoke of long nights and far too much caf. His eyes flicked up at the approaching neimoidian, a minor, masterless Sith apprentice. His eyes were covered by a gold-embroidered crimson blindfold, and long, silky red robes swayed silently as he walked forward. Clipped to the side of his head was a seeing-eye droid, a small eye and voicebox that whispered instructions to the handicapped man as he slowly walked forward. Every finger sported several glinting rings adorned with nova crystals, and his headdress was a complex thing of black felt that looked more like modern art than clothing. Everything about the creature spoke of pretension and insecurity. Jorl’s lip curled, and he said nothing.

 

 

____________________________________________________________________

 

 

Nok made a show of feeling around for the chair, and sat down.

 

“Thank you for seeing me Master Edda. I’m happy to see your planetary head office escaped the invasion unscathed.”

 

Jorl grunted, but remained silent. Nok could feel resentment boiling off of the man, and he could guess at its source. Jorl was one of the most powerful men on the planet, yet the coming of the Sith had changed all that. Now, Mon Calamari shipyards was waiting for the inevitable word that the Sith Empire would seize direct control of the planet’s biggest industry, crushing the economy and plunging the planet into downturn and ruin. Even now, all exports had been halted while the Sith government consolidated its power and integrated its own laws with the local populace. And that was on top of the planet suffering a plague and rebuilding after the violent invasion.

 

The planet was in ruins, its future was unclear, and the Mon Calamari and Quarren had no control. And now the Sith had sent a minor apprentice to deal with Jorl, a clear insult.

 

“Straight to business then. I’m here to discuss the future of Mon Cal Shipyards, and where you’ll be in the new order.”

 

Jorl grimaced, but kept his voice even as he said, “Mon Calamari shipyards will be happy to comply with whatever legal action the Empire requires of us. We want to make this transition as smooth as possible.”

 

Nok could only imagine the bile in Jorl’s mouth as he said those words. But now was the time to play the game.

 

“I think you misunderstand me Master Edda. I’m not here on behalf of the Sith Empire.”

 

Jorl’s movements stopped dead, though only for a split second. Nok had thrown him. He recovered, and Nok could see the man’s evaluation of the sithling change. Nok wasn’t an official to the CAO, he was an opportunist. Businessmen like Jorl could use opportunists.

 

“...Explain then.”

 

“We both know what’s coming, Master Edda. Control over the shipyards is key to control over the planet, and the Sith are hungry for the warships you can make for them. Once the Dark King appoints a Sith Lord over the planet, that Lord will seize the shipyards, appoint his own officers, and scrap all existing contracts. Workers will rebel, or quit, or just not work fast enough, and he’ll respond with imported slaves or make the slaves right here. Quality will plummet, profit will follow, and the planet will be gutted to make up the difference.” As he spoke, Nok saw ripples of anger and fear interplay across the Mon Calamari, who had no doubt been fearing that outcome ever since Sith troops took the capital.

 

“Alright, fine, let’s say that you’re right. Are you offering to take the position of Mon Cal’s new lord?”

 

Nok laughed. “Hardly! I can’t control the King’s choices. But something you don’t understand is Sith politics. We’re not, contrary to the holo-propaganda you might have seen, one cohesive horde intent on destroying the galaxy. The truth is we’re similar to any government, with different Sith vying for power and influence. A Sith Lord will be appointed here, and I can’t stop that, but what I can provide you is a Sith on your side. Sith, even apprentices,” he said as he casually gestured to himself, “have rights. A Sith Lord of a planet can seize almost anything he wants, but the exception is the property of another Sith.”

 

This time it was Jorl’s turn to laugh. Nok’s “ploy” must have seemed so obvious to him.

 

“So you want me to give you control over the Shipyards? Is that it? And you promise to run them responsibly?” he mocked. He raised his hand to gesture for security, but Nok interrupted him.

 

“Of course not. I only want 10%.”

 

Jorl stopped.

 

“10%?”

 

“Yes. Your family, the Edda’s, control 40% of the stock in Mon Calamari shipyards, with the remainder in the hands of other Mon Calamari families across the planet. Oh, and one Quarren.” Nok shrugged, and continued. “Essentially, I want you to put 10% of your stock in the company up for sale. I have a buyer waiting to snatch that 10% up on open market price.”

 

Jorl’s head bowed as he considered, and Nok could guess his thoughts. With the Sith invasion, the plague, and now the global export shutdown, Mon Calamari Shipyards’ stock was at the bottom of the ocean, ridiculously cheap. But cheap stock of a massive company like the Shipyards’ was still a lot for a single buyer. Nok would have to invest over 3 billion credits to purchase that 10%. Doable, but Jorl must have realized that such an investment would tie Nok firmly to the performance of the company, while still keeping him in the minority of power with his fellow directors.

 

“Won’t the new Sith Lord just seize the stock of the remaining members?”

 

Nok shook his head. “A Sith on your board of directors prevents that. A Sith’s rights extend to all sorts of peripheries, including his business partners. Attacking you would mean attacking me, and while I’m only an apprentice that still means legal involvement, and that means time. A new Sith Lord won’t want to deal with that kind of delay. They’ll be much more willing to deal with a fellow, weaker Sith to get things moving and deal with them later. What I’m offering you is time for the Shipyards to find their footing. All I’m asking you is that you put up some of your stock for sale.” Nok sat back, and waited.

 

He saw Jorl’s face contort as he tried to consider the angles. Nok had no doubt that Jorl now saw Nok as an opportunist looking for a bit of financial glory, gambling that Mon Calamari Shipyards would make a strong return and reward his investment. As the Sith on the board, Nok would be the face of the company to their Sith overlords, but he would still be controllable so long as Jorl and the rest held his purse-strings in their joint venture. Nok was a worm, but a worm that Jorl could put in a box.

 

Jorl’s computer flared to life as the Mon Calamari scanned through legal documents and reports. His eyes stared intensely, but Nok could tell the decision was made. Eventually, Jorl sighed, though Nok couldn’t tell if it was genuine resignation or a performance for his benefit. He keyed in a few codes, then closed his computer.

 

“Done.”

 

Nok’s datapad dinged from inside his robe. The sale was complete.

 

He smiled.

 

“Thank you very much. I hope our next board meeting is soon. I’m looking forward to meeting my fellow directors.”

 

Jorl’s lips turned up as if he’d just swallowed something spiny and poisonous. His voice remained civil.

 

“Well, I’m sure the other’s will be happy to know their 90% is safe.”

 

“70%”

 

Jorl paused halfway out of his chair. “What?”

 

“70%. Kip Jento was killed several days ago, likely in the chaos of the invasion.”

 

Nok saw Jorl’s eyes narrow. They both knew the mogul Kip Jento had been alive only yesterday.

 

“Still,” Jorl said cautiously, “her children…”

 

“...cannot inherit as of yet. There are taxes on that sort of thing in the Sith Empire, and in order to properly tax their inheritance the Sith need to do a full evaluation on their holdings. Like the value of the Shipyards.” Nok shook his head as if in exasperation. “It’ll be months before that gets done, and until then their inheritance will be held in trust by the Sith government. That 20% is effectively null until then.”

 

Nok saw everything click for the CAO. The widening of the eyes, the catching of the breath…

 

Jorl’s hands flew for the security call button. Nok casually lifted his arm, and a glint of metal and a soft hum preceded the vibroknife as it buried itself in the CAO’s neck, carried by the gentlest touch of the Force. The most powerful man on Mon Calamari tumbled to the floor.

 

Nok remained seated as the vibroknife deactivated and levitated back to his sleeve. He had only a few minutes.

 

He walked out of the room, and the guards outside looked at him as he passed. He paused.

 

“I had a guard droid I was forced to leave behind when I came in. Where can I retrieve him?”

 

The guard responded curtly. “He’s likely at the front security checkpoint. I’ll message them that you’re coming down.”

 

“Unnecessary.” The guards didn’t have time to even react as Nok sent two knives into their necks on the currents of the Force.

 

He activated his own comlink.

 

“Xar? It’s time. Your target is Chief Financial Officer Hars Volda. His office should be room 217 on second floor.
He is not to leave the building alive. Everyone else is expendable. Make some noise. Your payment will be wired on completion.” 

[Krath Apothos]

Nok stopped midstride as Xar’s voice came in over his “seeing eye droid”.

 

Command? Nok hesitated for a moment, then let it go. The best specialists were always a bit special. A gran hacker Nok had employed once had demanded to be served live fish before every job, claiming it helped him “energize” or something. Nok suspected the hacker had a few personality problems, and last he’d heard the gran had overdosed on spice.
I suppose that is one of the benefits of working with a droid. I don’t have to worry about him inhaling something he shouldn’t and either dying or talking.

 

“Understood. On my way.”

 

Nok changed course and headed for the nearest set of stairs. Emergency signs along the walls told him he was going in the right direction, something Nok couldn’t have normally known if they hadn’t embossed the signs with raised lettering.

 

Good of them to make allowances for the disabled.

 

He had almost made it to the stairwell when voices echoed through the hallways.

 

“20 seconds from office. Still no response from guards.”

 

That was fast.

 

“Sir!” a guard called from about 30 feet behind him.

 

And observant.

 

Nok slowly turned, allowing the guard to see his “disability”.

 

“Yes?”

 

The guard approached, one hand holding a raised blaster pistol pointed at Nok’s head, the other pulling out a set of stun cuffs.

 

“You’re droid is on the loose and Master Edda isn’t resp-”

 

His words stopped mid-sentence as his blaster flew from his hand and into Nok’s. Without pausing for a beat, Nok shot him in the head. He let the blaster tumble to the ground.

 

Bursts of fear blossomed through the hallways, no doubt people who had heard the shot. Judging by their bulky frames they were armored guards. Nok shook his head and raised both arms.

 

Two of his knives hummed as they came to life and zipped down the hallways, turning corners and homing in on the nearest guards. Nok saw the fear spike into reactionary animal panic at the sudden sight of floating weapons. Whatever wry satisfaction he got from the display turned to frustration as Nok struggled to put the nearest two guards down. He’d successfully stopped them, but he’d made a mistake trying to control two knives at once from a distance. His attacks were clumsy and ill-timed, and while he succeeded in cutting the guards he failed to put either down. Two more guards were pounding down hallways to Nok’s left and right, and the’d be in their lines of sight in moments. Growling, he sent one of the two knives into the ceiling, burying it in a light fixture that sparked and exploded. The other knife, now under Nok’s full attention, twisted and moved through the air with far greater speed and precision. Still a bit clumsy from the distance he was at, it was nevertheless enough for Nok to slit the guard’s throat after aa few passes. Letting it go, he turned back to the other knife, wiggling it out of the fixture and down towards the guard who was just activating his night-vision. He turned it on just in time to see the tip of the blade pass through his left eye.

 

“Put your hands behind your head.”

 

Nok grimaced. While he’d been so focused, the other guards had caught up to him. The only reason they’d likely not attacked him outright was because all they saw was a blind neimoidian with his hands in the air, twitching and waving like a madman.

 

Raising his hands, Nok brought his focus back to his surroundings, to the intricate currents of the Dark Side all around him. The demise of the two guards had washed over him, releasing that intense power that Nok was beginning to associate with violent death. He touched it, and he comprehended it. Instinctually, naturally, he understood the vast energy that surrounded him. It felt...excited. Anticipatory. Death only whetted its appetite. More, it seemed to say.

 

Nok exhaled, touching the Force in just the right way to get the reaction he wanted. He didn’t wrestle it or coax it, he played it as if it was a part of himself.

 

His remaining two knives hummed to life and tore out of his sleeves, passing through the tops of the skulls of the two Mon Calamari guards. Their deaths exploded like fireworks to

Nok’s vision, their light passing through him like a bolt of lightning.

 

With a set of dull thumps the guard’s bodies crumpled to the floor. Nok’s knives came shooting back to him on the strings of the Force. He pocketed them in his robe, his sleeves and forearm holsters ruined, turned, and walked down the stairs.

 

As he descended, the noise of people rose from a faint murmur to a frightened chatter to a panicked mania. A set of durasteel doors, locked, barred a single room in the duracrete hallway. A TT-8L/Y7 gatekeeper droid, given a polished white finish, emerged from the wall and scanned.

 

“DO NOT MOVE,” it blasted. “WHY ARE YOU HERE?”

 

They turned up the volume on this one.

 

“Please,” Nok said, panic edging into his voice, “please let me in! There’s a killer droid!”

 

“...YOU ARE NOT ON THE LIST OF REGISTERED EMPLOYEES.”

 

“My ID isn’t in yet! Search under Nok Morliss.”

 

The little eye held still for a moment, then backed up.

“I’m sorry sir. I was not aware you were on the board of directors. However, without a way to confirm your identity, I cannot let you in until I’ve determined you are not a threat.”

 

“Run me against internal logs. My security check should still be on file.”

 

“...Confirmed. You were registered as a guest. This is sufficient confirmation of your identity. Apologies for the delay sir.”

 

The door swished open and Nok stepped inside.

 

The fear in the long, featureless storage room exploded at the opening of the door. Several workers pointed at Nok, but whatever they were shouting was lost in the jumble. Nok stepped towards the crowd, but was stopped when a large, muscled Quarren blocked his path.

 

“Who are you?”

 

Nok kept his face pointed forward into the tall man’s chest, and spoke in a breathy, edge-of-hysterical voice. “I’m...Jin...Jin Meer. I’m an investor.”

 

The Quarren’s tentacles twisted in what Nok thought might be suspicion. “What’s going on out there?”

 

“Intruder. Some crazy droid.”

 

“...Alright. Security will take care of it. Just find a spot and sit down.”

 

“Thank you...umm…”

 

“Kuaggs. Foreman Kuaggs.” He started walking away.

 

Nok cocked his head. “Head of the union?”

 

Kuaggs gave a burbling noise that sounded something like annoyance. “Head of the Quarren Workers Union.” He turned back, suspicion clear in his blue eyes. “How’s an investor know that?”

 

Nok only backed away, slumping against a wall and sinking to the ground.

 

“Hey,” Kuaggs called. “I asked you-”

 

Nok bowed his head, ignoring the Quarren as he sunk into the Force. He could see the fear saturating the room, desperate and maddening. It just needed the right push.

 

A flick of his fingers, and the one of the light fixtures burst into a spray of sparks. Then another, and another, and another. Kuaggs’ head whipped around, following the exploding lights and the growing shadows, before turning back to the seated Nok. Nok saw the comprehension dawn on his face.

 

“You’re one of them!”

 

Nok’s hand flicked out once more, and like slipping on an old glove one of his vibro knives sailed out on currents of the Force. Kuaggs screamed and then gurgled as the knife buried itself in his throat, twisted, and shot back to Nok. The scream was contagious as blood geysered out of the former foreman, and the fear turned to blind madness. Shoving, trampling, and blind flailing turned the crowd of workers into a full mob.

 

“Sorry Kuaggs,” Nok muttered. “But better this than disbanding the union later.” He paused. “Better for me I mean.” He stood up, shattering more lights until the room was pitch black, and walked out.

 

The TT-8L emerged from the wall.

 

“Sir...what is going-”

 

Nok gestured, and a squeal of metal preceded the droid eye being ripped from the wall and dropped to the ground, sparking wires and hardware trailing behind it.

 

“Xar,” he said into his commlink, “I think I’ve done all I can here. Our target was not in the basement, but I managed to eliminate a tertiary objective. I’m heading out. Alert me once you’re done, and our Holonet partner will wipe the security feeds.”
 

[Krath Apothos]

A screech of grinding metal echoed through the district as one of the repulsorlift transports smashed through the fence and crashed into the wall of another building, erupting into flames and electrical sparks. The rear hatch opened and Nok stumbled out before ducking down a side alley. If that Booster Rann did his job, the security feeds would be wiped and Nok would never have officially been there. Combine that with a planetary government in transition after an invasion and biased, corruptible, Sith officials in charge, and Nok would easily avoid any lengthy investigations.

 

Particularly since his investment group were now one of the most influential forces on the planet, and Nok would soon be listed as one of the chief executives of Mon Calamari shipyards.

All in all, a good day.

____________________________________________________

Nok shuffled into the cantina "The Knotted Keelkana", feigning that his blindness was as complete as it looked. He loosely held a sealed case in one hand, and his other held an ornate walking cane of black wood inlaid with gold filigree. 

 

An uneasy undercurrent of fear gave the neimoidian Sithling plenty to see with. People huddled around their drinks, scooted tables from one another, and periodically checked their masks. People were scared. Plague, invasion, and the news of a slaughter by an unknown assailant at the Shipyard's planetary office had everyone spooked. Nok faintly heard "secret police", "assassins", and even "witches" being muttered in the tight clusters scattered across the room. The air hummed with tension bordering on panic, and it warmed Nok's skin like a hot bath as he passed through it.

 

He had no trouble finding the man (men?) he had come to see. Well, meet anyway. He was the only one with two heads. The Troig gave off a distinct impression, one that resembled a biohazard warning on top of a posted notice of wild Gundarks in the area. "Mess with me at your own stupidity." The cantina's patrons stayed well clear of the man, and a few shifted around the tables to marginally better cover as they saw Nok approach the him.

 

"So..." Nok said quietly as he sat down, "I understand your the man to talk to about 'offworld' purchases." He kept wrists loose as he set the case on the counter, ready to draw one of his knives if he sensed the wrong thing from the dangerous criminal.

 

Edited August 26, 2020 by Nok Morliss

[Krath Apothos]

On 8/28/2020 at 12:02 PM, Xar said:

“Mr... Zhimzinblimp” Vizier spoke. “Allow us to introduce ourselves. This is my lord, Xar, whom you have briefly seen before. And this Neimodian is Nok. And we have a business proposition for you…”

 

Nok nodded graciously, first to Vizier, then to Xar.

"My associate is correct. As I understand it, you are currently between markets after the political shifts on Nar Shaddaa. By the way, I'm genuinely sorry to hear about that. Time was you could get anything on Nar Shaddaa, and now..."

 

If Nok regretted one thing about his injury more than anything else, the far and away 1st place winner was the ability to roll his eyes for effect.

 

"However, talent like yours doesn't just lay down and die. I'm here, but not as a buyer." Nok turned the case so that only the table's occupants could see, pressed his finger against the reader, and opened it. Inside a soft, green glint radiated out.

 

"20 kilos of refined nova crystals. Set in 0.5 kilo bars. No markings. No tracking devices. No radiation treatments." Nok pushed the open case over to Shimsinblimp. "This is a down payment for the job I'm hoping to hire you for. I want to hire you," Nok said, leaning back, "to sell spice. To be clear, I want you to set up a spice market here on Mon Cal, and I'm willing to pay to see that happen. And I'm not talking about a rodian on a corner lot peddling to academy brats. I want big. Global. It's why I'm coming to you. I need someone with experience in the business and the drive to build something here on Mon Cal, to take advantage of the opportunities a newly conquered planet offers for such ventures. I think you're that man. Why else would you be here after all?"

Nok leaned forward again, serious. "I understand there's issues to resolve. Steady supply lines for one. But if you are looking to build something here on Mon Cal..." Nok smiled. "Then you could do far worse than to have a Shipyard's executive as an investor."