Bangin' Out The Dents (Verse & Others)

[Cameo Stenislav]

It was another typical day at work for Cameo Stenislav. Thank goodness for nicknames, thought the "deformed," navy-blue skinned Chiss as he continued his rounds at the bar he worked at. The busboy had, yet again, called in sick. Nevermind that the day before, some surly gentlemen had come to discuss buisness matters in the alleyway beside the bar. So typical for this area, Sten thought disdainfully, as he wiped down yet another table.

And that's when it happened. Some dumb person spilled a drink on someone, or said the wrong racist drunken slurr, or cheated at pazaak, or any number of things that only drunks or children would fight over, and then the barscene turned into a vertiable battlefield. Sten would've laughed aloud, had some humungous lout of a Trandoshan decided to hiss some strange, idiotic phrase at him. Normally, Sten would let it roll off of him like a blaster bolt off of a Rancor, but this creature decided to follow it up with a rake of the claws. Instinctively, Sten tossed his weight onto the nearest table sumersaulting over it. A quick hand plant and a swing brought the tailed Chiss sliding between the Trandoshan's legs. Powerful hands brought Sten into a spin, sweeping the lizardman's legs out from under him. His body crashes down, scaly head thumping hard and crashing through the wooden table.

This caused drinks to scatter everywhere, and a cup tumbled through the air, toward the Chiss. Sten caught it easily and took a swig. Bouncing, one of his real occupations, was thirsty work indeed.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse moved as a large drunkard fell past him. The bar was in full swing indeed. Verse had no time for games. He sledom did this day and age. There was to much going on in the universe. To much pain to little joy. The drunk was back on his feet again, and ran/stumbled past Verse.

Verse hadn't been to the inner rim in years. Not sence the Jedi fell so long ago. The Cathar stood up to his full 5'10 hieght. He was a little shorter than most Cathar but was all muscle. He didn't have the fat that most humans had. It was all genetics. He came from good stock he was told. His partents were prime specimens according to rumors and such.

His brown and tan hair was long with coins braided into certain areas of it. It was part of his tribes culture to do so. He found out this when he was on hiding on Cathar. He didn't wear robes any more. He didn't even think Jedi knew how to make robes anymore, much less wear them. His twin light sabers were hidden in the pockets of his cargo pants. He wore only a tanktop. It was to hot this close t the inner rim. To say his boots were steel toe was a little...understating. He had steel plated on the front of his boots.

Verse had no time for this all in all. He reached out and touched the minds of the crowd around him. He didn't mask himself, just made the crowd not pay him any attention as he walked through him. The looked past him and never at him. He turned his body a little now and then to avoid being bumped into from the mass of this fight.

He really didn't have time for this all and all.

[Cameo Stenislav]

As Sten downed his, or some other unlucky patron's drink, he felt a touch of the Force. He knew this technique; he sometimes used it when working as The Chimp. It was excellent for infiltration, or just avoidance. Sten had to focus, to pinpoint just where it was coming from. He finally found it. Now, to see into it, through it. After some concentration, Sten managed to sift through the technique, and saw the muscly, smaller-statured Cathar. And he knew him. But from where?

Sten's mind began to drift backwards, and he found the face. It was a fellow Jedi Knight. Verse Dawnstrider. They had been partners once, perhaps even friends. Sten thought to track him, but was stopped abruptly, as some big lout suddenly tossed a table. He didn't have enough time to dodge it. So, Sten did the next best thing; as it neared him, Sten jumped, using the table as some sort of board to surf through the crowd. The ride was rough, knocking several patrons to the floor to be trampled and kicked at. Sten hooted, truly enjoying the spectacle. He had forgotten just how fun this was, until the table came to a dead stop, sending him tumbling through the crowd, flipping and somersaulting to and fro.....

Coming to a barely-controlled stop, right in front of the Cathar. He hadn't intended to bother him, but being right in front of him, Sten merely chuckled.

"Verse? The hell are you doin' here?"

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Sten. Verse remembered him well. He was a prankster. He was slightly...what was the word...outlandish. He was not your normal Chiss. One could tell that from the deformaties. That was not what made him odd.

Chiss as a whole, as in 99% of them, were serious and stubborn to the point of frustration. Verse didn't joke or kid often. Chiss were just unbending. The world crashes about, and they still will not bend. They were unheard of as well. Sten and Thrawn were the only ones off their home world. They never left the outer rim.

Sten was frustrating as well. If the Chiss were heads...Sten was tails. If they were Yang...Sten was Ying. He enjoyed life to the point of madness. Verse could not think of a time when Sten was serious. He reminded him of Kit Fisto.

Sten was acrobatic as well. He was a good hand to hand fighter. He was better than Verse without weapons. As long as Verse had a stick though....Sten was out classed. That is not what worried Verse though. Sten had something that many people did not not. Luck and Cunning. Good doses of one, much less both, can beat skill more often than not. Sten had both in Spades. Verse was as cunning as they came, but Luck seemed to always be with Sten. That was somethign no one could take from him or duplicate.

"Sten. Why is it that you always seem to be in trouble. Jedi are hunted. Drawing attention to ones self doesn't always work in our favor...."

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten chuckled slightly. It was indeed the Verse he remembered. Stiff and rigorous. Good with weapons. But he, in hiding? He seemed too prideful for it. Or at least, too unbending and unyielding to hide. Hiding was, in a sense, yielding territory. And if Sten remembered correctly, the Cathars were all about territory.

"Well, this wasn't my doing! I work here, man. You know, I bus tables when the busboy's not here. I bounce the rowdies when the bouncer isn't available. But mostly, I clean and sweep, as the custodian. Plus, you know, I dabble in other lucrative business."

Another projectile, this one in the form of a Twi'lek, came hurtling toward Sten. A simple duck let the creature pass him by, wind and lekku tossing Sten's hair about.

"And no, it doesn't. And I don't draw attention....or at least, I don't try to. Laying low, working as a custo....ah, forget it, janitor, that's pretty much as low-laying as I can do."

Sten smiled a flash of pearly whites.

"What about you? Skulking around isn't hiding, though masking your Force signature is. Anyone who can see you would know that you're a trained individual, as the....ahem, specialized fighters of the past often are. What brings you here?"

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse regarded the Chiss. Yes, just as he remebered.

"I am indeed hiding. There is a difference between hiding because your scared and hiding because you do no want to be shot for treason. I just got dropped off here. I plan to try and get off this sink hole as soon as I can."

Slave labor. That is what Verse saw Sten doing. One of a Jedi's caliber does not clean tables for money. Nor do they do this line of work. It was just a step above begging for money. This is what Death Stick junkies did for thier fix. This was belittling.

"Falling from grace puts things in a different light."

A cup rushed past Verse's head. He didn't move. He saw it leave the man's hands and judged where it would travel. He could tell it would be close but not hit him. No need to waste energy moving when something would not hit you. Would be pointless.

"I am sorry to say this Sten, but this is a little sad. One of your stature...and it is wierd me placing you as a peer I may add.... is above this. There is things that need to be done in the galaxy and you...clean after gangsters and druggies. I must say, I am kinda disapointed."

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten smiled.

"Yes. Demeaning work. I agree wholeheartedly. Then again, this would be the last place that someone would look for us, correct? And not to mention....the free tab. Food's not bad. Drinks're better. And I have a free place to stay essentially..."

Sten didn't move as another table leg soared past his face.

"Well, this is not my most profitable job. I do have one more profitable. And with it, I take the proceeds and put them up for good causes. But I'd rather not discuss this aspect of buisness here. You know, this place is easy to bug. Even in full swing. And as for hiding..."

Sten looked down at Verse's cargo pants, a little nicer than Sten's own black work slacks and reinforced slippers. Particularly, Sten noted the bulges that the lightsabers made.

"It would seem that 'sabers have a distinctive pattern. Hard to confuse that for anything else. So much for hiding, huh?"

Sten chuckled, finishing the last of the graf with a toss of the head.

"You know, the fetch a pretty price in shadier markets and with collectors of fine goods."

Sten continued his laugh, perhaps hoping that Verse would loosen up. When Verse seemed to only stiffen at the words, Sten stopped laughing, and pulled at his belt, to a large pouch tied to it closely.

"But honestly, I took mine apart. You know, being on the run and whatnot. The less ties we had to our pasts, the better...."

[Verse Dawnstrider]

"It is sad that you are not tied to your past. Only a weak willed nerf herder would give up all of that. I didn't see you as the quiting type. It seems that time hav eno been kind to you."

Verse thought about what else Sten said.

"What is this other buissness. The one you donate to charities. Tell me that one is atleast worthy of a...former... Jedi."

Verse let the former hand in the air a little longer than he should. Seeing Sten like this had sicken him slightly. Hopefully what ever he was doing on the side was better than what he was now.

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten shook his head at Verse's words.

"Whoa, you're jumping to conclusions. I merely disassembled the weapon; not only can I reassemble it, I could probably make some improvements to it. A weapon says much about the wielder, much like how he uses it, and how often, even. Don't tell me that you think it's the weapon that makes the wielder, for it is always the other way around. Surely you didn't miss that lesson at Temple?"

Sten didn't even bother dodging the next blow to come to him. It sailed wide, another fist from another patron catching the assailant before it even landed.

"And I am attached to my past. You must remember that we all came from somewhere before the Temple ever became our homes. Hell, I went back to the Circus for a bit. That's being attached to my past."

The Chiss' red eyes seemed to flare for a second, before dulling down to their former, far less radiant irredescence.

"And I still use what I can of....you know, our former talents...Such as not dodging the next blow that strikes me...coming right about now..."

The former Trandoshan, incensed at it's failure at attacking Sten, had regained some of its feral senses and consciousness. And naturally, it made it's way to the markedly unusual Chiss. Sten took the blow, a charging tackle that picked up the foot-or-so smaller Chiss, and carried him to a set of viewing screens of the street, not more than ten feet from them. Sten summoned up some energy from the Force to keep him from being wounded terribly from the shattering of glassteel against his back. It would seem that the blue-skinned humanoid didn't even bother stopping himself from falling. And the Trandoshan, in its rage, didn't even bother to stop the momentum, even as they were free-falling, two stories down, into the oncoming traffic.

Sten took a deep breath, and turned himself in the fall, bringing the Force around him, dispersing some of the impact and momentum as they landed. The surface shook and dented inward, the metal-plated flatbed of an open-back freighter, currently empty of any freight. Perhaps the driver was en route to pick up a load, perhaps not. Either way, Sten looked to the driver, who had been unable to see the landing of himself and the Trandoshan. The large, humanoid lizard clawed at the deck, uninjured from the fall. Just as Sten liked it.

The former fighter of the Circus Horrificus, and Jedi of the Temple, smiled, his red gaze catching the eyes of the Trandoshan. A casual stance was assumed, as if this were nothing to Sten. His three-fingered, right hand came up, waving on the Trandoshan.

"Hello, beautiful. I see the bar wasn't quite to your liking. Perhaps I can speak to the manager later...."

Sten merely laughed as he dodged the Trandoshan's oncoming swipe, and took the screeching growl as an answer.

"Whoa! Perhaps not...."

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse watched at the Humanoid slammed into Sten. Verse saw as they feel out the window. Verse ran. The bar was in a riot. One would think that it was a frontline in the war. A little extreme in how one saw the thing, but pretty much the idea of it.

Verse turned his body as a man was tossed at him. Another was pushed at his legs. Verse just lifted his feet up and rolled over the man. Verse landed and pushed off as soon as feet touched ground. Sten was not making the choices Verse would make in his life, but he was still a Jedi. Kinda. Verse jumped out the window nanoseconds after Sten.

The Force flowed through Verse. It was if the world slowed down to a crawl. Verse knew he was speeding up his reaction time, but it never surpriced him to watch time slow to the point he was scared it would stop. His eyes darted at he saw the Chiss hit the truck.

He slide down the side of the building and waited...waited..wai.Push off. Verse's powerful legs launched him at the truck. His feet touched steel and he rolled to one knee to soften the blow. The Force did alot, but physics still applied to life. Even if you could bend the laws one could not break them. Verse was not going to let Sten of all people lecture him on the Force and being a Jedi.

"You are wrong. The Lightsaber is part of who you are. That is why one must use the Force make one's own. The past is just that as well. The Past. Why do you think most Jedi never know who thier parents are or where they come from? Jedi must focus of the Force. Not what they once were. That is why I still am a Jedi. I never stopped. It is not my past, but my present."

Verse thought a few moments

"And you don't just put a Light Saber back together. It takes weeks just to make one, and days to put one back together. No good to you now."

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten heard Verse, and what he was saying.

And then the claws and teeth of the Trandoshan came in, slashing and piercing at air as Sten deftly dodged it. He smiled. Always smiling, the Chiss was. Seriousness was a good thing, but only in controlled doses. Life needed fun. Otherwise, monotony and whimsy would give way to absolute control. Which was fine, if you were an automaton, working on parameters and nothing more. Such would destroy passion, feeling, and emotion. Emotions were good. So long as they didn't control your life. Funny how it all worked. Life was a balance. The Jedi understood that somewhat.

"I never knew my parents because I was bought and sold."

Sten moved aside as the vehicle pitched slightly, dodging another series of furious attacks from the Trandoshan. The freighter pitched once more, and the lizard-man became off-balance. Just enough for Sten to land one hard, Force-powered, right hand strike between the eyes of the Trandoshan. He rocked back, completely stunned, before falling to the freighter's deck.

Sten got to work, tying down the Trandoshan. The ties would hold heavy pieces of machinery; they would hold against the claws and teeth of a Trandoshan.

Once finished, Sten made his way to a good resting spot, hair rustling in the wind as the freighter flew along. He looked up at Verse on his perch.

"To a degree, you are correct. Then again, is the lightsaber so completely a part of you that you can't survive without it? We can't rely on the weapon alone. And yes, you do just put back together a lightsaber. I never said how long reforging it would take. Or if I could do it in a jiffy. Hell, it's been, what, twenty-something years since I dismantled it? Why do you think I didn't get rid of the components? Why do I carry them, strapped so closely to my side? Because the truth is, I am still a Jedi, and will continue to be one until I pass on, and become one with the Force. But the issue is, sometimes we have to lose a part of ourselves to survive. After all, if the boulder traps your arm, do you lay there and let it kill you, or do you somehow sever the arm for the sake of survival?"

Sten's head turned to the ongoing traffic, watching the people as they soared past.

"No, the 'saber does nothing for me right now. Wearing one constructed on my side would elicit trouble, perhaps even death. You carrying two does the same. Yet you hide them. I went a step further. But I didn't part with it completely. Much like sometimes, when someone loses a limb, they still swear to feel it, even when it's not there, and no proper replacement has been fitted. The lightsaber is still here..."

Sten tapped a finger of his right hand at his heart.

", and here...."

Sten then tapped the same finger to his head, his mind.

"And when the time comes, I'll rebuild it, and replace it properly. And as the Force would direct me, the modifications would be made, just as the changes that I had to make in my life to survive were made. Just as a limb grows and changes as you age."

Sten sat for a second, mulling over their conversation.

"So, you never were a Jedi. You still are. And you discredit the past. Why? Because you must look forward, right? True enough. But aren't we supposed to be mindful of the past? That's why I don't carry a lightsaber currently; because to carry one constructed in the past was to openly be a Jedi. And those who were openly Jedi during the Purge were the ones to be attacked and killed. Perhaps I have been too mindful of the past, and at the expense of the present, but c'mon. Look around. Do you blame me? We are hunted. We are exterminated. We are Jedi. And a Jedi acts through the Force. And a Jedi carries a lightsaber. Do I not act through the Force? And do I not carry a lightsaber? After all, it never once said that the lightsaber had to work. It just had to be carried. When the time comes, it will be remade, reworked, reforged from the Force. But right now, on this freighter, is not the time."

Sten stood.

"But I do still believe that it is what is inside that makes us Jedi. Not the lightsabers that we wield, nor the Force that guides us and allows us to utilize it. Those are important parts; that I will agree to. But take away those things, and is the Jedi still a Jedi? The answer for me is yes, because it is what is in our hearts and minds that makes us the Jedi. Do you agree?"

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse didn't blink when Sten spoke.

"Lets see how that works for you...."

Verse held out his hand and one of his sabers rushed to his hand. He flipped it so that the blade would face down. With a flick the deep Green blade sprung to life. The wind picked up and tossed Verse's mane. He tightened his grip and thought back. Sten was good at acrobatic form. He could still use the fundamentals without a blade. Verse could combat that. Verse was a monster in combat. Defence form would stop him. He will not want to get close to the blades.

"Hopefully, your heart will protect you. Don't take this the wrong way. I know you value certain emotions. I am more old school. There is no emotion. Only peace."

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten smiled. Was this a spar? Against a fellow Jedi? He was saberless, but that accounted for nothing. After all, it was what was within that made the Jedi. He was ready, awaiting an attack.

"I value certain emotions? Do you not? There is no emotion. There is peace. True enough. But where is your peace in your stance, as you stand ready to defend, weapon drawn? Do you think I will attack you? I will not. Jedi do not attack, they defend."

Sten began to pace back and forth, feeling the weight shift underneath him. He was becoming very acclimated to the movement underneath him, feeling the flow of the Force all around him. Here in Coruscant, the presence of life within the Force was so strong, so resonant that it aided him, showed him everything that was occuring. It would also aid his long-time friend, if he chose it to.

"Now, to answer the question you had earlier, inquiring about my other occupation, and as to the donations I make. Well, it isn't really much of an occupation, per se. It was something I have a knack for. With very little training, I've honed my abilities into the less-than-reputable art of thievery. You see, I am also an entity that is pretty well known, an entity that has stolen for over two centuries. And this is how it works: when the master thief comes to his prospect, he makes him an offer. The apprentice trains under him for a time. Until one day, the apprentice takes on the title, and the master in turn takes on the role of apprentice. There is a separation of sorts, whether it is by good or ill means, and the apprentice turned master carries on, continuing where the master left off, assuming his persona. And the master turned apprentice decides to leave, and retires from crime, and most likely, with the profits turned, retires from all other aspects of buisness and work, to a life of individual pleasures. You see, I was that apprentice, the younger that assumed the role. I am the entity known as The Chimp, the entity responsible for various thefts in the past decade, all seeming to be areas where loss would hurt those who deserved to be hurt. For example, my most recent theft, a few years back, resulted in the leakings of plans of a certain design flaw to a certain network, who in turn revealed the design to the Rebel Alliance. This small event, in turn, led to the destruction of the first Death Star, at the hand of one Luke Skywalker. That in itself is a small donation, is it not?"

Sten turned away from Verse, walking another pass.

"But, to myself, that wasn't enough. It was an excellent donation, to be sure, but not an actual donation. So, I did the math, figuring up just what I would need to survive, and gave up the rest, donating it to needy charities, orphanages, being a mysterious patron to many good causes, et cetera. So, you see, this menial job, of a janitor, is really not only a ruse, but more a penitience, an oath of poverty. Poverty, until I am able to reassume publicly the role of Jedi Knight. This poverty has not only kept me alive, but has suited me in my tasks, allowing me to make the most of the interesting position that I've found myself in. Maybe this changes your opinion of me, and my dedication as a Jedi. If not, it matters not. You are a peer, correct? If so, then your judgment matters not. It would be the will of the Force that would deem me guilty or not."

Sten sighed.

"A lengthy answer. But one nonetheless. So, what now?"

[Verse Dawnstrider]

"I am more of an.... action Jedi. I believe a strong offence is the best defence. Some may say I am wrong, but that is how Mace Windu did things. The way Kit Fisto did things. I in turn will do things like that."

Verse let the idea of 'The Chimp' sink in.

"I like that though. The Empire is taking from the people. So we take it back to help the people. I like that alot."

For the first time in years Verse let out a smile. His enlongated canines gleaming in the sun.

"I want in."

[Cameo Stenislav]

A radiant smile flashed Verse's way.

"Action is my middle name. Or at least, it should be!"

Sten stopped his pacing, his glance making it's way to his long-time friend. A moment ago, he was ready to fight. Sten was not much of a debater; his words not particularly flowery, but somehow wise, striking chords with others where even the most silver-tongued trickster could only find discord and strife.

"Well, it's not all against the Empire. Some of it is merely to help worthy causes. After all, if we were completely against the Empire, then we would join the Rebel Alliance, and support their ideas of government. But that's just the mistake we made in the past. It was more about politics, and less about doing what was right. And in this universe, we all know that sometimes right and wrong has their fine lines and shades of gray. So, as Jedi, we turn to the Force, to our minds, and to our hearts, to show us the path that may not be known. Joining up would be useful, but perhaps an alternate identity would prove useful..."

Sten cocked a pearly smile Verse's way.

"...You think I tell everyone that I am The Chimp? To do so would be suicide. Every bounty hunter, thug of the Empire, and Inquisitor would be on my tail every step of the way. No peace there. Only folly. And death. After all, we are Knights, not invulnerable gods. And while peace with the Force is something to aspire to, life is not something that we, as Jedi, should be quick to toss aside. In terms of action, we do far more alive than dead. Right?"

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse nodded.

'It would be folly to tell everyone. That I can agree with, but one could be clever. I would gather a few close allies and EVERYONE claim to be 'The Chimp'. Everyone leave the same calling cards. Really screw with peoples heads.

I have problem taking from the Rebels as well. I am more fond of them, but I feel Jedi should be for the Jedi. Politics is not my field. I didn't know that The Force was democratic or Republic for that matter."

Verse thought for a few moments. He let his mind wander a little.

'I have no need for a secret idientity. I am not popular, nor remebered. Lightsabers can be found in pawn shops and who will believe a Jedi is stealing and such?"

[Cameo Stenislav]

"Hmmm, that is interesting. Just a broader application of the same basic principle that is used to keep The Chimp anonymous. And I could see that, you being the perfect standard of the Cathar race....now, myself, even by Chiss standards, I stand out like a sore thumb. Oh, and I didn't so much mean not taking from them, so much as I meant furthering their agenda by working solely for them. If they are doing the right thing, then they will most likely benefit from my actions. If they aren't, then they will probably suffer from the reprocussions of The Chimp's actions."

Sten stated all this a matter of factly; it was merely the truth, what he would do.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse nodded his head

"Agreed."

Verse looked around watching the buildings go by

"So, what do we do from here?"

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten shrugged his head.

"I dunno. The Force, and my common sense tells me that we should eventually get off this freighter. But I do have an absolute need to get my lightsaber rebuilt, and find a suitable place to carry it. And then there's more lightsaber training; my technique was great, but I'm afraid that I'm quite rusty. The closest thing I've wielded to a 'saber is a vibrosword. And you know it just ain't the same..."

Sten smiled, looking back the way they came.

"Oh, and I need to go back to the bar. So I can give them a notice. Not to mention, that's also where I bunk, so my effects are there..."

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse nodded. He reached out the drivers mind and pushed the man to stop. All at once the Drive was worried that he may have a loose stering fin. As the truck pulled to the side of the road, Verse hopped off and looked at Sten

"I understand. Let me know when you are ready to leave."

Verse reached in his pocket and pulled out pen. He picked up a piece of paper from a near by trash can. He wrote a few things down and handed them to Sten.

'This is my comlink number. Just give me a call. The address of where I am staying is there as well.'

[Cameo Stenislav]

Sten took the scribbled scrap of paper, and folded it neatly, before stuffing it carefully in his chest pocket, buttoning it up.

"I'll give ya a call, and we'll meet up when I get something lined up."