Avararda Dinn

I sighed at the man. "This ship is fine. Trust me. We're headed to a system I think we can find our man at. How extensive is your combat and negotiation?" I gave a slight hint at a smile, but he'd never know, thanks to the cover of my helmet.

((OOC: Apologies for the way. Completely forgot.)) Instead of answering the man, I simply stood up and strode towards my ship. As soon as I boarded it my security systems recognized me and deactivated themselves. I waited for the man to follow and immediately took off. ((OOC: Go ahead and post your reply in space. We'll continue there.))

"I see no reason to waste time and ask questions. However, if you wish, I will explain this to you." A sigh was heard through my helmet and I continued. "Dordjooba's target is very high-profile. I am very skilled at what I do, but I admit that I need help with this one. Now, with that said, we will head to my ship and be off. I've recently discovered a public broadcast which we should be able to trace." I waited for the man to stand and exit the cantina before I made any motion whatsoever.

A slight tilt of my head was the only recognition I gave the man. Though the cantina was dimly lit, my helmet's light adjuster's quickly compensated. I saw him slightly grimace at the environment. I guessed it was the stench of the place, although the dirty air had to pass through my filter before I breathed it. The agent looked uneasy, which is exactly the effect I usually had on people. The Ubese armor had the tendency to be slightly intimidating and my personality only augmented the mood. I said nothing as he sat in the chair directly opposite of me. Our location in one of the booths of the cantina ensured that our business would be private, although the noise level of the cantina drowned out the little conversation we'd have. He sat down without introducing himself, instead opting to slide over a credit chip and a datapad. I reached out for the latter and reviewed the details of the contract: it was a kill, but he wouldn't be an easy target. Force-users generally tended to put up a slight fight. The credit chip on the table took away any possibility of hesitation I might have had. It would be a difficult fight, but in the end, I'd be a great deal richer than I was now. I thumbed the datapad's power switch and set it on the table next to my untouched ale. A credit chip of that value would undoubtedly be an object of attention; I grabbed it and slid it into my armor. ”œWe have a deal; however, you're coming with me,”

My helmet's internal speakers emitted a slight beeping noise, rousing me from my slumber. Instantly I was alert; my hand dropped down to my DT-57 on my thigh and I monitored my situation via the helmet's scanners. No threat was present; I relaxed my tight grip on the heavy pistol. The chair let loose a slight squeak as I sat forward, reminding me of my ship's needs for basic maintenance. A press of a few keys on the main console and a display was brought up on the forward view screen, highlighting a newly-entered ship in the sector. ”œAvararda,”

My fingers danced over the control panel as I navigated the sleek ship towards Tatooine. The ship dropped with a gentle glide towards the surface and I only had to make slight adjustments to ensure a safe landing. I picked an obscure spot, or at least what one could consider obscure for a planet like Tatooine.. It was easy enough for me to dodge the never-ending traffic and set the ship down on an empty landing spot. I didn't kill the engines but merely set them on minimal power, as well as my ship's other systems. However, my security systems were set to maximum capacity; I take no chances with my ship. I stepped off the pilot's chair and picked up my DXR6. I ran a thorough weapons check on it and did the same for my sidearm, the DT-57. I glanced over at the flechette launcher resting in it's place on a gun rack. I walked over and picked it up, deciding to heir on the side of caution. With flechette slung over my back, I returned to my chair and ran a comms scan, hoping to pick up the frequency of any open comm.

"Ugh." I heard a groan, but all I could see was darkness. To assess my own damages, I attempted to lift my head. With the added weight of my helmet, this proved to be an especially difficult task. I let my weight go and my helmet hit the deck of my ship. I could only lay there on the deck in a senseless attempt to recall how exactly I got here. I retraced my steps back from what I remembered. The job... Coruscant... Capture... The woman... The woman! That was why I was here, laying helpless on the deck of my own damn ship. But how? My eyes fluttered slightly and a gentle amount of luminosity seeped through my helmet's automated light filters. Slowly I let my eyes drift open, silently thanking the filters for dimming my visor. I struggled to turn over onto my shoulder. After a minute and a couple grunts, I was able to shift over to my stomach. My strength was beginning to fill my body, albeit slowly. I remained there, on my stomach, letting my energy seep back into my lame body. One hand”¦ and then the other. I walked myself through the process of returning to my feet. Now my knees. I slid my knees up under my body and slid one hand up the wall, using the unyielding resistance to raise myself to my feet. It was there I wobbled only slightly before noticing the woman on the floor. I paused and couldn't help but to glance at her astonishing features. Her jet black hair was strewn across the deck, as was the rest of her. The Marabi armorweave she was wearing only accented her curvy but slim body. I looked at her face, but didn't recognize her. Switching my external voice emitter off, the only thing that heard me was my helmet's built in sensor. ”œRun facial recognition,”

Wrong thread. Maaaaaaaaah bad.

Avararda breathed a small sigh of relief, thanking the Force for the moments rest. The woman kept speaking to him, yet he had no idea what she got out of it. She wasn't nearly as strong in the Force as the others that he felt, yet he felt different about her. I've got no other choice. Another sigh passed through his bloody lips. "I... I couldn't tell you how... got here." His brow furrowed in an attempt to pick out the details. "I was flying... and I was consumed.." He let the Force wander out, tentatively brushing her. Even this small act hurt, thanks to the dark nature of the planet. Things even like rocks and dirt seemed overflowing with darkness. It embedded itself in everything, including Var. He fought internally with every bit of sense he had, but the planet seemed determined to rip his beliefs right out of him.

Avararda rested on his knees with his head bent, drawing long breaths. His face stung, but it was nothing compared to the other beatings. "You don't think that... the others.. the other Jedi.. they'll come... they'll come for me." He coughed and sputtered. Var attempted to bring the Light in a healing form. He clenched his fists and brought the Force around him in a swirling vortex. It didn't have the effect he desired. His internal mindset told him that the Force inside him was having a battle of Light and Dark. He wasn't so sure himself which side he was on anymore.

Var could only shake his head. Is Jedi even my title anymore? He emitted a weak Force pulse. What am I? Who am I? "It makes no difference to me. I'll live not knowing who you are. But hey, we could at least pass the time..."

Var nodded his head as he spoke, more to himself than to anyone. "I'm always waiting..." He turned towards her. "What about you? What's your story?"

Var's wounds still hurt, but he was past the point where it crippled him. The darkness had wound down, but Var knew it was too late. He'd transformed. After all the work he and his sister had gone through, it was all just a waste. Shye... I'm sorry.. he thought. The man sat up, grimacing in the short burst of pain, and sent out a Force-pulse. As far as he could tell, it was only the inexperienced one. He rested his arms on his uplifted knees and let his hands drop. He spit on the smoldering ship - this one was more blood than anything. He looked up as she spoke, and laughed. "I'm a wreck. You could do whatever you want, and I"d be a pushover. Frankly, I'm waiting for one of you to kill me. I can't say I'm not surprised I'm not a cooling corpse right now." Why do I feel more freedom with this woman? She's the enemy for Jedi sake!

Remember the old ways? No! I won't go back! It's coming. You know it is. I'll fight it. If it kills me, I'll die knowing it was for the right reason! Do you feel that? She's going to kill you. This is the end, right here. No! I can survive this! Look at you, you pathetic lump of meat... Let it go! Become real again! The woman released him, and he crumbled back to the ground. However, he felt.. different. More in tune. More complete. Angry. A feeling rose within him. A dark, morbid feeling. Feels good, doesn't it? Yes.... It does. Avararda rose a little; just enough to stick his feet under him and sit on them. He felt as if a simmering pot was just turned up to boiling within him. A transformation was occuring. It rose within him until he couldn't contain it anymore. A piercing shriek rang from his throat. From pain, or pleasure, or enjoyment, the cause was unsure. A memory flashed through his head. Tusken raiders. Death. Fury. Fury! He was angry at everything. He was angry at nothing. The planet now seemed to swarm around him. It seemed to heal him now, rather than to cripple him. It filled him with power. Avararda felt all the hard-earned links to the Light shatter. His connection in the Force was now contained within the Darkness. He breathed hard, his head lowered. Var felt like he'd just got ten rounds with a rancor. His exposed chest dropped and rose heavily. He stood up, completely oblivious to all the pain that supposedly engulfed him and unleashed another beastly roar. The planet howeled with him and fueled his own rage. Var extended the tendrils of Force - his eyes, in essence. He sensed the three characters, but was unsure of which to address.

Var actually willed himself to laugh this time. The motion hurt, but he couldn't help it. "I wouldn't go with you... no matter what you promised. You Sith-" He coughed. "You Sith," he continued, "are all the same. Using... dirty tricks and cheap tactics... to win. How about.... you fight with... some honor?" Var rolled over onto his stomach and raised himself onto his hands and knees. The tied-back portion of his eyeband fell forward onto his shoulder. He spit; the liquid was a disgusting mixture of water and blood. Truth is... I don't even know why I'm here...