In what furnace...? (Tear)

[Je'gan Olra'en]

It sometimes seemed as if regrettable lapses were the stuff of which Je'gan's life was made. From charity to befriending Jedi, he'd made far more than his share of mistakes. Strange, then, that the one occasion in which he'd fought side-by-side with a Jedi had not been one of these. On the contrary: his attempt to ingratiate himself with Satine Capashen had been in fulfillment of a command from TSO's Elders. They had desired that he become a friend to a Jedi and then betray them in the most painful way possible. Things had been looking up...but then he and Capashen had become separated when they fought Gav Mortis and a squad of Imperials led by a Dark Jedi - Colonel Tear, Imperial Intelligence.

He got away by the skin of his Apprenticely teeth. Within a handful of months, he'd fulfilled the Warlock's directive and murdered Jedi Padawan Ceres Duvall. That was that, or thatshould have been that...

Save for his abominable lack of foresight. He'd brought attention to himself that day, completely without realizing it. In point of fact, he still didn't realize it almost a year later, the day he walked into the Libaaut Central Museum, Thyferra, in pursuit of a Sith reliquary.

He was doing this alone, without Master or Apprentices, without even Jan. In part, it was attributable to his lack of confidence in anyone else. The main cause, however, was the growing confinement and even disillusion that he'd long felt creeping up on him. He needed to restore his viewpoint and his enthusiasm, and hunting down artifacts seemed the best way to go about that.

The specimen he was after had been sitting in Libauut Central for the last two centuries, and on Malquis for a millennia before. Its lack of similarity to the average Force-related item had kept it out of the purges, and not a single rumour had cropped up. For all intents and purposes, it was a completely normal reliquary. Chance had brought him across a picture of it once. Now he was convinced that he saw elements of Sith craftsmanship in its design. Not runes or glyphs; nothing that blatant. Just subtle curves and hues that conveyed a general sense of similarity to artifacts of his acquaintance. To the best of his knowledge, he was the only one with these suspicions.

Dressed in a black tunic and breeches with a long green cape overtop, he looked like an average man - and curiously enough, blended in fairly well with the locals. He paid NR scrip at the wicket and stalked farther inside. The artifact was in a room two wings from the lobby; taking a pamphlet from a wall kiosk, he set to reading more about it.

Within a few minutes, he was standing in front of the transparisteel case. The reliquary sat square in the middle of a display on religious sacramentals, and some of the elements he attributed to Sith manufacture were there, but he couldn't see a critical part - it was obscured behind something that looked like a jewelled, inverted bowl. Hissing, he stalked around to the other side of the case, trying to find a suitable angle. No success.

Worse was yet to come. The museum staff wouldn't open the thing for him without mind control, and he couldn't seem to find the proper person - one who could both open the case's lock and turn off the security system. No more could he take control of every single employee here. He was, to put it bluntly, irritated.

He returned from his abortive attempt at negotiation with a feral gleam in his eye. Magor flared blue in his hands and cut a swift circle in the transparisteel. Dousing the blade and seizing the artifact, he dashed out of the wing to the blare of alarms. Full Force-enhancement tripled his speed; before anyone could mobilize, he'd passed the lobby and was into the streets.

[Tear]

“So will you be coming to lunch?” A man, in his late thirties, posed the question as he held the elevator door open. Behind him several of his staff members stood patiently, looking on like children to a stranger their parents knew, and had run into on the way to the toy store.

“Ah, I don’t think I should. I have a briefing at two.” Tear pulled back the sleeve of his simple black suit and gave a few solemn taps to the chrono on his wrist. Turning he waved back at them, promising to take a rain check and catch up with them some other time. He was lying.

“Sir! Colonel!” A young ensign was running down the hall, his boots squeaking with each quick stop he made while ducking and weaving through the stream of personnel that took up the hallway. “Agent Tear!”

Tear stopped and turned as the ensign came screeching to a stop only inches away, data pad tight in hand.

“Yes?”

“Ther-theres…a sec-ty” The young ensign bent over bracing himself on his knees as he attempted to catch his breath. Freeing up one hand to hold up the data pad he was carrying. “Pad.”

The Colonel’s eyes skimmed over the pad briefly. “You’re joking?” Blue eyes raised up to look at the ensign with disbelief. “Here on Thyferra? The Sovereignty homeworld?”

The ensign swallowed hard, nodding as he struggled to form words for lack of breath. “Jedi.”

Anger comes quickly to those who aren’t afraid of it. Even quicker to those who appreciate it. Tear often wondered if his quick temper was more of an ailment then an aide. “Send word to my Lieutenant, tell him to prep up. Contact the Civil guard and when you do, patch them through to command.” Sometimes though, anger can be a prudent motivator. The Colonel twisted about and took off in a sprint down the hall.

Grand Lebaaut Museum, Ualis street.

People had come flooding out of the museum. Most were on their own accord and hadn’t even noticed the security guards ushering them out while they sealed the Museum up for investigation. Panicked faces looked around in disbelief, strangers reacquainting the last fifteen minutes with other strangers of how their lives were just in severe jeopardy.

“A Jedi! Here on Thyferra!”

“You should have seen the look in his eyes. I swear he would have killed me if security wasn’t around.”

“Damn Jedi. They’re all alike. They need to be wiped out.”

Irony crossed the mind of Civil guard trooper, Dan Lewing, as he watched and heard the people mill about and retell their stories which ended up a little more skewed and dangerous then it had been since they last told it. His headset chimed in suddenly, cutting him off from a particular odd story where the Jedi was only stealing the artifact to save his beloved.

Moments later. Communications and Security of Intelligence Command.

“Have you found him yet?” Tears voice boomed above the pit of communications personnel as they’re off rhythm chant of relaying messages filled the room with a soup of voices.

“Sir. I’m running a search now. Civil guard units have been notified of a Jedi in the vicinity.”

“Good. Do we have any identification?”

“Yes sir. Security cameras in the Libaaut Museum picked him up a few times.”

“A museum? What was he doing there?”

“Well normally we don’t take jurisdiction over thieves it’s the civil guards department…but.” The communications officer tapped a few keys into his station, accessing a previously recorded security feed. A small box blipped into view and began to play back the security footage. The camera showed a young man, in his twenties, inspecting an artifact for a fair while before taking out a lightsaber and breaking into the case to remove it. “When thieves start wielding lightsabers it becomes our jurisdiction.”

Tear blinked and squinted at the figure as a wave of familiarity fell over him. “Wait a second. Zoom in on him.” A cold smile etched its way over Tears lips as he recognized the face. Interesting.

“He paid with NR scrip which was what first set off a security flag. We do get some tourists or businessmen from the New Republic and when they pay with their current the security cameras just tend to pay special attention. We’re also running a reference on the artifact he stole from the museum, so far nothing.”

Why would he want that artifact? There had to be a reason and even if he did steal the artifact, which he did, he would need a way off the planet. Tears fingers pawed at his chin as he stared off in thought, trying to predict his quarry’s next move.

The communications officer suddenly canted his head to the side with a jerk and listened intently for a moment before turning around to speak. But Tear already figured out what he was going to say and beat him to the point.

“Where!?”

“Civil guard speeder spotted him moving through south district of Lebraaut, heading west. He just passed by Hill and Uar street. The units in pursuit.”

“Good. Have every unit in the area move in and box him in on Lorrain and Prdess. Get them to evacuate the area of civilians before he gets there though. If this gets out of hand I don’t want to have to clean up a mess.”

“Yes sir.” The officer’s head canted briefly again as another transmission was being relayed. “Sir. It’s for you, a Lieutenant Ylor. Hes at the building and the troops are prepped and ready. Two attack gunships of Inquisitoriate troops.”

“Hah.” Tear couldn’t help the excitement that flushed through his body, the tingle before a hunt, before a battle. He lived for it.

“Tell command to order a lock down of any transport in city limits. I don’t want him escaping.” Tear turned a predatory gleam in his eye and a toothy grin spread over his lips. The door ahead of him hissed open and whispered words fell from his mouth. “Lets go play.”

[Je'gan Olra'en]

The first clue he had that something had gone seriously wrong, of course, was that he'd used his saber. That had been a mistake, no doubt about it. The second clue, however, and the last he needed to realize the real gravity of the situation, was the impression his danger-sense was giving him. Large elements were in motion ahead of him. And behind him...

A speeder, Civil Guard by the markings, booted up its repulsors and took off after him. He was still running at full Force-speed, but that speeder would catch up within seconds.

He leapt into a tiny alley and jumped straight up, clearing three floors to land neatly on the flat roof. The speeder came to a screeching halt - running into a kiosk or something in the process - and he could hear booted feet hit the road hard. Dropping his physical enhancement, he reached out and crippled their minds one by one, the last as a hand came over the edge of the roof, hanging onto the rail of a fire escape. As that psyche disintigrated under his assault, the hand stiffened, then released. A loud thud percolated up to him.

Smiling grimly, he leapt back down into the street, using the Force to soften his landing. The speeder was still running; its driver, well-trained, opened fire. The Sith Knight ducked behind a cluster of terrified passersby and took control of the driver's mind. Powerful repulsors roared to life. The vehicle careened down the road in the direction Je'gan had been heading. Hastily, he implanted mindless aggression in the driver, overrode and destroyed self-interest to make the poor man suicidal, and left a compulsion to continue in that direction before dropping control. Then, cloaking himself in Illusion - he was now an overweight human male some three decades older - Je'gan continued down the road in that direction at a hurried but normal walking pace. Somewhere out there, he sensed, there was a Darksider of considerable power. This could yet turn out to be more fun than 'run, run, run, stay alive.'

[Tear]

Like plumes up smoke, clouds of soot black and gray began to wash over the skies of Libraaut. Drifting so doubtlessly over the city, blanketing the upper levels of certain skyscrapers while thunder crackled and sparked to life like a newborn inside a womb of clouds. Rain was assured to follow at some point.

Stars in daytime the engines of two attack gunships gleamed hot as afterburners flared to life. The pair of transport craft swooped low cleaving through the storm brimmed clouds while weaving back and forth around the various skyscrapers that dotted the Libraaut district.

Inside the two speeding craft: strategies where being refined, information collected and intelligence reports dispensed. The sound of equipment being set up, checked, double-checked and finally equipped, filled the air with various clicks, zips, snaps and confirming beeps. Two teams of Inquisitoriate troops had been assembled.

Cold blue eyes stared past the reflection of the window and focused down into the bustling city below. A constant feed of information was being relayed to him from the units on the ground. Apparently the civil guard unit that was pursuing the force user had attempted to corner him. They’re names will end up marked onto the casualty list of what’s going to be a very long and nasty report. Tear hated working in friendly territory. The innocents that often found themselves caught in some sort of crossfire or in the wrong place actually had to be kept safe. It was like having a brawl in a nursery school. So far the civilian list was up to two, wounded by friendly fire.

Finger tips brushed over the soft fabric of Tears black suit in an attempt to shoo away a piece of lint. He smiled at himself once he realized the futility of trying to keep his suit clean in what would probably end up a messy operation. Should have changed before I left.

“Agent. We’re coming up on alpha sector 1.” The sector was named for the purpose of easy navigation through the city. The intersection were the civil guard was attempting to push the Jedi toward was Alpha sector one. Every city block expanding that area would rise in number until becoming a new sector.

“Wait a second. What’s going on down there?” Tear craned his neck trying to get a better view of below before sighing and slapping the deploy console which drew back the transport doors. Various troopers quickly found themselves scrambling for their supports, even though they were already strapped securely in.

Tear peered through squinted eyes as the air whipped over him at gale forces. A crowd was running in the opposite direction of the Alpha site. “Lieutenant, what’s going on down there?” The Colonel shouted as he attempted to speak over the roaring wind.

“We think the Jedi commandeered that civil guard speeder, he’s heading straight into our trap.”

Tear turned and glanced down again, a growl reverberating up from his chest as he signaled the pilot to slow to drop speed. Twin DL-47’s slide from their holsters, their power packs checked and loaded, then primed before sliding back into their resting place in their holsters on Tears thigh. Dangling alongside them a metallic object with a black leather grip dangled from a braided strap, a symbol of the man who wielded such a weapon. An assault rifle was slung over his silk covered back and black gloves slid tight over his hands.

“You look real pretty sir.” Ylor, Tears lieutenant, grinned wickedly as the rest of the men chuckled.

Tear glanced down at himself, still wearing his simple black suit, which was now dotted with weapons. “I do have a gun. I could shoot you.”

“A pretty gun too.”

The colonel couldn’t help but laugh as he gave a signal. The second gunship suddenly pulled up. Flying straight up, parallel to a skyscraper. Where the second team would take up sniper positions and wait in reserve if called upon. The other gunship slowed drastically, leaving everyone inside to try and resist the centrifugal pull forward. Rockets launched in a sudden acceleration from the ship’s wings, exploding in mid air to rain multiple canisters of tear gas into the streets just behind the running crowd of civilians.

“Go!” Eleven sets of combat boots, and one set of leather dress shoes, slammed into the duracreet streets below. Nine troopers peeled off to take cover behind abandoned speeders, building corners, or even light posts as the remaining three, including Colonel Tear rushed forward rifles drawn and aimed at a single man who was still a fair distance away.

Tear smirked under the gas mask he had put on with the rest of his team before they had descended from the gunship. He’s probably wondering just how I picked him out of the crowd.

Boots padded silent over bits of broken glass. Everyone else was running and screaming in panic. He wasn’t. He was walking in the opposite direction, casual and calm. So either Tear had just made a mistake and was about to take down an overweight, middle aged, man hocked up on drugs or he had found a very skilled Jedi. Time would tell…

“DO NOT MOVE!”

[Je'gan Olra'en]

He craned his neck up, watching the two gunships separate and the closer one descend. The Forcer was in that one, and as he focused on the minds of the Imperial troops he thought he recognized them. Those were at least some of the same men he and Capashen had fought, and the Forcer – now recognizable as the man in the incongruous suit – was the one who’d beaten Capashen. Now that made things interesting.

Practiced eyes noted the efficiency with which the troops fanned out. He glanced again at the other gunship as it touched down on a skyscraper top. Looked like this commander had a fondness for sniper backup. Something to watch.

And now others of the closer party had dug in behind some decent cover. That was, of course, of no account.

”DO NOT MOVE!”

Three were approaching, including the man in the suit. A tiny smile crept over Je’gan’s face. His illusion flickered into nothingness from lack of concentration as he reached out and seized control of two…three…four of the soldiers behind, forced them to target Tear and his two companions, and with a flick of his mind pulled all four triggers. The bolts rippled towards the three Imperials – and, by extension, Je’gan, up until the moment he cut loose the mind control, threw full power to physical enhancement, invisibility and Force-masking, and leapt straight up into the air.

[Tear]

“What the frell..” It was like someone screaming in the back of your mind. The hairs on your neck didn’t stand straight up…they jumped. “DOWN!” Tear dove to the ground, his shoulder hit first, using the motion to tuck his body into a roll. Bolts of energy seared through the air above him as the two troopers at his sides slammed into the ground. Wisps of smoke clung to their armor like bony fingers trying to scrape their way through. Sharpie rolled to his side his arm limp while Menim simply laid where he had crumbled to the ground, barely moving. Tear continued his roll until he was facing upward, and squeezed the trigger on his assault rifle before finishing the roll and sliding to a stop on his feet.

Where was he? Tear had seen the Jedi jump into the air but. Tear raised his weapon to his shoulder and scanned the area.

“Colonel…my head. He was in our heads.”

Tear hissed as he continued scanning over the area. His presence was gone. It was like he had just disappeared only something was a little off. There was still a lingering scent about of his presence like when someone bakes a cake in a room and leaves with the cake, you know there’s cake, it’ll just take a little bit of time to track down where its gone.

“Copy that. Follow procedure shore up and pull out.” Inquisitoriate troops were trained specifically to deal with force users for the Empire. Most of them actually had some minor force sensitivity otherwise to even be considered for Inquisitoriate training was near impossible. Standard procedure when dealing with a PSI developed Jedi would mean anyone that couldn’t defend against mental attacks was a risk and as such would pull back from the engagement, shoring up their minds defenses as they did.

His men rushed forward weapons still drawn and ready as they dove to their fallen comrade’s location and began to pull them back.

Tear smirked under the gas mask, frell it was hard to see under this thing, not to mention the fog of tear gas that surrounded him. Seems you have learned some new tricks since our last little encounter. Let’s try this again.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

He landed softly more or less where he'd taken off from, and launched himself into another leap that took him perhaps ten metres away, back the way he'd come. The first tendrils of gas were coming closer at an alarming rate and, having no desire to lose self-control to that stuff, he ducked behind a dumpster and dropped the invisibility and physical enhancement. A Force grip ripped a running soldier's mask off - taking care to first trip all the catches at once, Je'gan's telekinesis being far more suited to finesse than to power - and brought it around the dumpster. He grabbed it and made both himself and the mask invisible, then put it on while jumping back further, in preparation for the possible - even probable - retaliation for the mask's theft.

[Tear]

Weather has and always will be a variable in tactics and strategy. Sometimes the weather can play into your hands, other times it slaps them. This time it decided to play neutral. The wind picked up in a sudden gust, forcing the cloud of tear gas to billow and race away down the street, dispersing as it did so. A crack of thunder split through the darkening clouds that covered the city skies. Still no rain fell.

Tear watched in silence as his men stumbled and tripped, a gas mask being ripped off one just before the cloud of tear gas was blown away. The man skimmed over the ground and around a Dumpster like it was alive and taking cover.

Combat boots moved over the pavement in retreat as the Colonels men withdrew from the streets and away from the two force users. Tear glanced back at them as they fell out of range and then back to the dumpster. Raising his rifle to his shoulder he took aim and squeezed the trigger. A rapid series of armor piercing bolts shot forth into and through the dumpter, leaving singed holes to billow smoke into the air. A small click resounded and the energy pack discharged. Smirking he tossed the weapon to the side.

“Come on out…”

[Je'gan Olra'en]

Send your snipers away first, Je'gan stated emphatically, or they'll kill you.

[Tear]

Tear winced noticeably at the invasion of his thoughts. Je’gan’s voiced echoed its message briefly through his mind before being forcibly quenched. The Jedi probably wouldn’t realize it at first but the mere connection of telepathy to Tears mind would cause a somewhat un-settling if not down right uncomfortable feedback of emotions, most of which screamed of pain, anger or sorrow.

“They’re already withdrawing. It’s just you and me now.” Tears men were infact pulling back but only to a safe distance and out of range of Je’gan. Their thoughts would be impartial displaying no threat to the Sith and thus shouldn’t attract any unwanted attention by the force user.

The Imperial stood alone in the middle of the street, shrugging back the memories that Je’gan had unintentionally sparked.

Others dwelled in Tears shattered mind, others who were imprisoned there by a master he had trained under long ago. His mind was made into a mental fortress. Not only for his own protection but also for those around him. Darana, Tears former master, knew what lurked in the shadows of Tears mind and even she feared its unbiased cruelty. She had attempted several times to delve deep into his mind in an attempt to discover what the cause of his shattered mind but many times she barely escaped with her sanity intact. Not being able to mend the damage done by some unknown event in Tears past she did the next best thing. Sealed his ghosts away. It took her years to fully erect the shield in Tears fragile mind but once up, it would not let anything out and effectively imprisoned his persona’s keeping them from randomly surging and taking control. While this kept Tear relatively safe and sane it also effected his abilities, leaving him with no mind abilities usually associated with force users. He was left unable to mask his presence, voice his opinions or thoughts through telepathy, cast an illusion, play mind tricks or anything of that nature leaving his abilities significantly weakened in some aspects. But his mind was a fortress of nasty traps, leaving him nearly invulnerable to mind attacks. Although while a fortress his mind was, nothing is unbreakable but to break the dam that held evil in place would have consequences of horrific proportions.

Tear continued to stand in the street. As he waited for Je’gan to make his appearance the clouds finally released and rain fell softly over the city.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

Even the shallow contact of projective telepathy revealed much about the target's mind. In this case, it revealed enough that the Sith Knight was deeply tempted to try navigating Tear's psyche, just to see if he could. The shielding was on a par with his own - impressively strong and very complicated. Just the sort of thing, really, that he needed to learn to deal with. But that, if it ever came, could wait. For now, he was content to withdraw his influence and keep his own multiple personalities in check: Seren Irreantum, and what was left of Darth Shule's independence, the latter having been mostly subsumed over the last several months.

Then the heavens opened up. The raindrops that hit him blurred and flowed strangely to the eye as his Illusion broke down. Je'gan rippled into existance ten metres in front of Tear with a wry smile on his face. "Beg pardon," he said. "Illusion isn't my strong suit."

A lightsaber soared from his belt to his hand, black and silvery metal, crescent-curved. The blade it cast was sky blue. He assumed a relaxed fencing stance with right foot and hand - saber hand - forward. The smile remained.

"En garde."

[Tear]

Finesse or power that’s what it seemed this fight would boil down to. Tear had seen Je’gan in battle before and taken notes for lack of a better metaphor. Speed, quick attacks and strategic retreats, so more or less Je’gan was a hit and run sort of guy. Although with his newly acquired mind tricks he seemed to be far more aggressive then he was in the last encounter.

This differed in some respects to Tear. Having no mind abilities at all he specialized in two skills: Telekinetics and physical enhancements. After all what could prove more useful to a man who kills for a living?

Tear quirked an eyebrow at Je’gan stance and his saber type. The “En garde” sealing the style of fighter Je’gan really was, a fencer. Form II most likely. Tear on the other hand continued his views on pure overwhelming power in the face of finesse as he trained nearly exclusively in form V or had been under Darana. Since then it was a mixture of styles he was developing on his own and from what he had learned previously.

“How’s the ankle?” Tear smiled, almost evilly as he tossed the memory of when he tossed a knife through Je’gans ankle, pinning him to the ground, in their last encounter. Reaching down he unclipped the metallic cylinder and gripped the black leather of its grip tightly. Raising it up above his head before igniting it in a flash of brilliant orange that hissed and spat steam as heavy raindrops fell over its length. Tear held his weapon vertical and high around his shoulders, reaching back with a foot into a comfortable stance.

The two warriors squared off, eyes locked and weapons raised as one waited for the others move. Rain continued to pour down around them, quickly leaving a thin layer of water to run down the streets. A bolt of lighting flared to life overhead, forking across the charcoal covered skies as its thunderous boom sparked the beginning of a battle.


(OOC: Thought this was funny since it mimics our situation Styles (http://swordforum.com/summer99/kat-vs-rap.html)

[Je'gan Olra'en]

OOC/ Thanks. Sure goes a lot deeper than what I'd considered.

IC/ The Knight let out a quiet breath, keeping his attention on Tear's knees. The Imperial and the Sith were too far apart to hit each other without moving first - or using the Force. But if Tear moved first, his knee - everybody's knee, or near enough - would shift just slightly before the actual movement. Je'gan himself did it, and it was something that he'd had only limited success in countering. The only was to counter it, really, was to move fast.

The street exploded right behind Tear as Je'gan leapt forward, springing off his back leg to take him to the very edge of Tear's effective killzone. His blade flicked out in a straight thrust at the Imperial's throat.

[Tear]

The boom of thunder almost masked the blast that roared up from the street behind Tear. He instinctively, if not fool hardy, wheeled around to meet the alarming explosion.

Mistakes, ironically, often become obscenely apparent after making one. Tear released a hand on his weapon, slowing the speeding shrapnel of duracreet with telekentics while continuing the fluid motion of his three sixty spin to meet what was probably going to be Je’gans blade. His eyes caught sight of the sky blue blade lunging toward his neck. Tear arched his back and deepened the curve of his knees in an attempt to pull out of range as he felt the blade sizzle through the collar of his silk shirt. His free hand swiped around, flinging the debris he had slowed from Je’gans surprise back at him.

Tear stumbled back suddenly, his free hand shook and slapped against the front of his neck tightly, clutching it as his eyes went wide with a sense of shock. A choked breath stuttered through clenched teeth as the Imperial dropped his saber, his other hand adding to the other around his neck as he fell flat onto his back, writhing to his side in pain. A sputtered cough spat its way up, Je’gan would have recognized the look in Tears clenched eyes if he could see them…it was fear.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

He honestly didn't know how far his lightsaber had penetrated Tear's neck, or if it had harmed more than the shirt whose crisped odour came through cleanly to his heightened senses. Brushing bits of duracrete from his eyes, he drew back two short steps, right foot still ahead of left, and concentrated on his danger-sense. If Tear decided to do something tricky, he'd be considerably more than ready.

The idea of blowing up the street under Tear was tempting...but he had better uses for his power.

[Tear]

A high-pitched scream tore through the air around the two warriors. The one standing would have thought it came from the other, who was writhing in pain over the sidewalk if it wasn’t for the two Drop ships that cleaved through the sky above like daggers. In turn two objects detached from the under bellies of each drop ship for a total of four earth shattering impacts that crushed into the rubble that was previously duracreet.

There spheres began to buzz as four tripod like legs extended and lifted the main body of the droid up as a total of four arm apparatus’s pulled away from the main body. The battle droids were massive with a pair on each end of the street effectively blocking entry or escape. Two lower arms hung low to the ground with hand like apparatus’s clenching and unclenching as the droid went through its systems checks. The other two arms sported a number of different instruments would undoubtedly contained a number of different weapons. Barrels also extended from the body, sounding off various clicks and buzz’s as weapons systems charged up. Three red circles regarded Je’gan as they preformed various scans, taking in their surroundings any weather changes for any tactical benefit. But most importantly a dull void enveloped the two force users.

Tear turned over as his erratic coughs halted as he cleared his throat with a slight chuckle. Standing he flicked away the burnt remnants of his charred collar. “About time.” He commented as he continued to brush any dirt or debris that clung to his already dirty suit. The Colonel smirked, as his hand extended toward his lightsaber before he remembered it wouldn’t obey his command, forcing him to bend over and retrieve it. “Surprise.”

Standard protocol when dealing with any force user, especially a Psi developed one in friendly grounds was to take away their advantage, namely their force talents. If anything was more apparent to Tear from their last encounter it was that Je’gan had developed his abilities massively but all the while had become increasingly more dependent on them in a fight. Tear on the other hand was a killer in every respect. With or without the use of the force he had been conditioned and trained to kill efficiently and effectively. A murder from birth to an assassin in life, sadly it was the only thing he knew how to do and do well.

Cold blue eyes glanced to the skyscrapers then to the massive droids that boxed them into their own private arena. His eyes sank to Je’gan as he waited for the clarity of the situation to sink in. Tear wondered if Je’gan had ever been without the force or more to the point trained without it. Most Jedi find it very disconcerting to suddenly have to operate in a dark room with no lights. I wonder if he’ll stumble.

The droids shuddered for a moment as their shield kicked in sealing them into a protective shell of swirling colors. Further protecting the living creature that sat snug under protective armor within the middle of the mechanical beasts. The Ysalimari slept snuggly attached to their nutrient frames totally unaware of what was occurring outside.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

It was and always had been a matter of pride to Je'gan that when he fought non-Forcers one-on-one, it was without the Force. Furthermore, he'd only been a Forcewielder for a year and a half...prior to that, he'd been a Teras Kasi artist and a champion fencer. He knew how to handle himself without the Dark Side.

The main question was the droids. If they attacked, he was essentially doomed. For the moment, though, they appeared as sessile as the ysalamiri that were likely encased within their chassis. It came down to himself and Tear, and a pair of lightsabers. Also his rapier, dirk and hold-out blaster and Tear's DL-47's and assault rifle. Time was too short to calculate all variables, but unless he acted fast...

Fast was the key. Was he fast enough to dodge streams of blasterfire?

He moved in in a controlled rush, stabbing for Tear's chest without overextending.

[Tear]

Plumes of mist spiraled to life from both of their blades as they stood their muscles tensing like cat preparing to pounce.

Tears arms had been raised above his head, his hands gripped tightly over his saber hilt ready for an execution like slash. Stepping to the side to avoid Je’gans diving blade, Tear took a step back before bringing his saber down in a direct slash against his opponents. The same smooth motion brought Tears blade back up so the point pointed down while held laterally to his shoulder in a defensive stance. The slash was one of pure intimidation swatting the blade away.

In essence this fight was a fight against close range and long range. Je’gans fighting style clearly gave him the advantage of range, being able to lunge in with quick thrusts and back away keeping a safe distance. While Tears own style of swift counter cuts and powerful slashes would dominate in close range.

Rain poured over the two combatants with steam spattering and hissing from their blades. Their eyes lay still on each other studying for betrayal in each other’s moments. It was funny, Tear had seen holo movies of fictional Jedi duels and how the holo’s always displayed them as epic battles lasting hours. Where as in reality any duel with a saber usually ended in mere minutes.

Close the distance and close it fast, Tear thought as his mind turned page after page of tactical possibilities. It was more then likely he would receive several fatal punctures just trying to get close enough to deliver a single fatal blow, which would likely leave them both dead or dying.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

He took in Tear's stance carefully as he recovered from the lunge and took a moment to evaluate what had just happened, how the Dark Jedi had moved, what was likely to happen. His thoughts moved along the same lines as Tear's own, although of course he couldn't resort to telepathy in a ysalamir field. Coincidence born of mutual experience, that was all.

Footwork would be paramount, fast and mobile. The older man could move fast enough on his own to get past Je'gan's admittedly less than stellar defences - his style, while mastered, was primarily offensive - and deliver their mutual deaths. From what he'd seen and what he remembered of this man's style, he was just as good as Je'gan himself.

Abruptly, tension eased along Je'gan's shoulders and arms, and he doused his blade in a last puff of steam.

[Tear]

Tear squinted as he tried to figure out what the Jedi was doing. Standing down? A quick glance to his surroundings did snap the realization that Je’gan was trapped and surrounded. Still he didn’t think it would end so…peacefully.

Taking a few steps back Tear deactivated his own saber letting the last few wisps of steam dissipate around him. “Change your mind?”

However changed Je’gans body posture was Tears muscles still held tense for fear of trickery behind his opponents actions.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

"On the contrary," Je'gan said, a slow smile creeping across his features. "A Sith Knight never changes his mind, he just reevaluates his options."

Avoiding sudden movements, he replaced the lightsaber at his belt and extended his hand to shake.

"Je'gan Olra'en. TSO."

[Tear]

“Sith…you’re a…” Tears eyebrow arched curiously as his posture eased which was ironic. Most wouldn’t feel too comfortable around the sith. Re-attatching his own saber the agent moved forward slowly but casually.

“Tear, Imperial Sovereignty.” He took Je’gan’s hand, a smirk tugging the corner of his lip.

“Not to be rude but I assumed you were a Jedi. Especially after our last encounter. The man i fought, your friend? Was clearly of the Jedi Order.”

[Je'gan Olra'en]

Je'gan shrugged as he reclaimed his hand. He took no offence; those had been confusing days, and more than one person had taken him for a Lightsider.

"Part of a test set by the Elders," he said. "Ingratiate oneself with a Jedi, then betray them. Thanks to you and your men..." The young man chuckled, hooking his thumbs in his belt. "...I never got the chance. That duel was supposed to be the ingratiating part."

His eyes flicked past Tear's shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have the stand-down codes for those droids handy, would you? Being without the Force is distinctly uncomfortable."

[Tear]

“Interesting quest.” Tear crossed his arms and stroked his chin curiously. Pondering his memories of their last encounter.

The trials and tests of the ones who considered themselves master’s. Tear had visited Corellia to request aid in his task in attempting to destroy the Jedi. They were less then enthusiastic about the idea.

"You wouldn't happen to have the stand-down codes for those droids handy, would you? Being without the Force is distinctly uncomfortable."

Tear nodded with a smirk on his face, fully understanding the uneasiness Je’gan was feeling. “It is uncomfortable isn’t it? Like having the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, feeling as if there was someone behind you.” The agent smiled as the click of several automatic weapons resounded directly behind Je’gan.

“I’m sure you understand my need for precautions though. As much as I’d like to trust you, I cannot in danger the people of this world. The men behind you will take your weapons.”

The sky thundered lightly overhead but there was no familiar flash of lighting. Instead a gun ship swung low from the clouds careening to its side as it landed. A large armored door swung open pouring out a half dozen more troops with their weapons drawn.

Tear placed one foot onto the craft and stepped up waving a hand inward. “When your ready Je’gan.”

[Je'gan Olra'en]

Je'gan shrugged and handed over his weaponry - all of it. Truthfully, he hadn't expected it, but in hindisght he should have.

After all, it was what he himself would have done.

A few quick steps took him inside the craft to stand beside Tear. After a moment, Je'gan removed the stolen artifact from concealment and hefted it in his hand.

"This thing has Sith origins, you know. It's not in the billing or any of the research, but it was constructed by followers of the ancient Sith."

[Tear]

Tear gave a quick nod the soldiers remaining on the ground. They would secure the area and let the public know they were once again safe. Clearing traffic to remove the droids would be a hassle though. The agent winced noticeably when he realized the paper work he would need to fill out in order to explain why he dropped several ton battle droids into a public area destroying a street in the process.

Je’gans statement snapped him back into the reality of his present situation. A sith artifact?

“Interesting a Sith artifact?� Tear held out his hand, he could see some hesitation in Je’gans eyes before he passed it over. Tear cold blue eyes scanned over the small object for a moment looking for any familiar symbols he knew to be sith related. None, then again Tears knowledge of the Sith probably wasn’t even close to that of Je’gans.

“How can you tell?� The gunship banked suddenly curving through the sky as its repulser’s fired slowing its decent and eventual smooth landing.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

"There are hints in the colour scheme, the texture, certain curves and angles...nothing obtrusive, which makes me think it wasn't made by the Sith themselves, just people - or rogue Forcers - under their influence and accustomed to their style. Those criteria, of course, apply to so many groups throughout the last twenty millennia that tracking down specifics would be very, very hard to do."

Je'gan craned his neck around for a better view of their destination. If he was uncomfortable this high up, it didn't show. After all, there was a more than decent chance he could shift the Shadow on his forearms into wings or a parasail in time to prevent impact. He had no worries about falling to his death.

"Where are you taking me?"

[Tear]

"To be interrogated and tortured Je'gan. You don’t think I could let someone get away with stealing from the Imperial Sovereignty, do you?" Tear looked toward Je’gan his face a wall of stone dead seriousness...for a moment anyway until his lips cracked into a smile.

"To be processed. I have to take your prints and D.N.A to be confirmed by the Sith even though I'm sure who you say you are precautions must be taking in these times." The Gunship lurched as its landing gears stressed and bore the weight of the landing. The group was quick to transfer from the landing port to the front gates of the Intelligence building.

Surprisingly even with the arrival of the Sith not many of the workers stopped their buzz of activity as they ran errands and criss-crossed the office in an invisible display of purpose.

"I have to go attend to some things Je'gan this young officer right..." Tear reached out and grabbed a woman who had attempted to skip by with a stack of papers in her arms, "here. She will take you to get cleaned up and change or dry your…robes if you wish." Before leaving Tear took Je’gans hand and tapped the tip of his finger with a small sensor.

"When you’re done she will show you back to me." Tear flipped the devices around in his hands a few times as he waved and began down the hall disappearing in the mass of organized confusion.

[Je'gan Olra'en]

Wordless, the Sith followed the female officer. He knew one or two of his fellows who might not have kept their eyes level or their intentions clean. If given a moment alone with the officer, Rivin would have summarily skinned her alive.

Je'gan was not Rivin. Thus, he kept his gaze where it should be: taking note of everything they passed. Unsurprisingly, that wasn't much. The Imperials didn't seem the type to reveal the innards of their Intel machine to even a not-so-casual visitor.

After a couple of minutes, he was deposited inside a cubicle, where he offed his cape. The all-enveloping fabric had endured the brunt of the rain, and he passed it outside with murmured thanks for whoever took it. Everything below was only moderately damp save for the cuffs of the black pants. These he wrung out on a towel, which he tossed down a narrow laundry chute.

He emerged into the spare corridor, hair a bit unkempt but otherwise quite presentable. The officer nodded and led him through a new set of halls to an office with Col. Tear emblazoned on the door. Nodding to the Intel girl, Je'gan rapped on the door.