Zereth Lancer
Dec 2nd, 2009, 04:01:31 AM
The planet remained the same, but everything had changed. It became evident the moment he attempted to land in the private docking bay and attached compound that had once been a special police forces headquarters till the government shut down the force after a long dispute over the amount of weaponry and force a police squadron should be allowed. The building had been purchased by local landowner Vince Iro, who had awoken in his bed to several hooded and robed figures in his bed chamber threatening to destroy him if he did not do everything he said. Iro was not the only one to fall into the pool of fear the Sith of the Korriban Sith Order had created upon Corellia. Many others would find themselves in similar situations. There were pay offs of course. They benefitted in some says, most of all by keeping their own heads. They had lived in a cycle of fear, the Sith Order agents on Corellia kept tabs on the men, making sudden appearance from time to time to keep them afraid. The facility in question was used as a safe house and base of operations, but was now apparently under new ownership.
Looking up at the building from the street, Zereth's tan brows knitted into a frown. When he hailed the building to land, using the right codes, he was greeted with an unfamiliar voice that had refused him access and told him to bugger off. This was not the way it should be, so he was forced to park his craft elsewhere and come on foot to investigate. The place was locked down, and the access codes had been changed. Access refused, Zereth searched around the building, which was rather large but located between a dense city district and one of the warehouse districts. It was a relatively unused spot of land and that was what had made it perfect. Likewise now, in broad daylight, Zereth was able to move virtually unnoticed as he prowled around the building. He was dressed casually in a tunic and pants of soft colors, his long black, rigid hair flowing behind him like a trailing mane. Red eyes searched for a way in, and found it in a second story window. A sideways flick of his hand, first two fingers pressed up with the rest held down, caused the window to wiggle open. Then, with a glance around, he sprung up ten feet into the open window, tucking his legs in so that he landed on the window ledge, his tall, thin frame just barely fitting through as he slipped inside.
The window deposited him into the residential side of the compound as opposed to the docking bay side that held the facilities formerly used by the special forces police unit. Closing the window behind him, he became aware of the sound of footsteps. Ducking out of sight, he found a hiding place behind an air regulator unit tucked in the corner. A man slipped into view, walking slowly through the room Zereth had found himself in, which was empty except for the doorway the man came in and another one leading out the other side. The man was short and pig eyed with greasy black hair and bags under his eyes. He clutched a cup of cafe in his hand as he moved through the room. Zereth recognized the man as Gavriel H'jori, one of the sith's spies on the planet. The man had been useless in the arts of the force but possessed a very wicked mind that had allowed him to dominate those the sith had under their thumbs. His job had been to feed the fear into the men and women they were taking advantage of, but this facility was to remain empty and unused. This was most unusual.
Rather then poking around for hours and possibly never finding a clue, Zereth revealed himself from his hiding place, causing Gavriel to start and move for the door, which swung shut on it's own and locked itself. Zereth stood against the wall, making no threatening movement or showing any indication to close the other door, but would shut it just the same as he had with the first is Gavriel made a move for it. "Lord Lancer!" He said, his voice squeaky and troubled, as where his eyes, which darted wildly like mice trapped in his face. "Acolyte H'jori." Zereth replied, always the formal one. "Might I ask why I was refused access to the dock only hours ago and why, if not more pressing, you are within this structure at all. This building was off limits to anyone and designated for emergency use only. Explain. Now."
Gavriel sputtered for several moments, apparently too put on the spot to come up with an answer. "Um, well, as you know, that is, you all disappeared and I and the other Shades here were left on our own. We did not know what to do, so, um, we moved in here. We, that is I, did did not think you would return." The man replied, but he did not look at Zereth, he was instead looking at the door, the mug in his hand shaking ever so subtly. He was hiding something. If what he said was true he had nothing to fear from Zereth, who could not blame the man for being a cowardly rat.
"You are lying to me. That is unacceptable."
Zereth sprung across the room, jumping and using the wall as a spring board, his powerful long legs bunching up against it and throwing him forward. Gavriel made a run for the door, his mug falling from his hand, but Zereth had anticipated this and angled ahead of the running man so that his outstretched arm could catch the man at the waist and pull him down. The two tumbled to the ground together, Gavriel's limbs going mad as he tried to free himself. A stray elbow caught Zereth in the face as he rose on his shoulder and sent him back to the ground. Gavriel took advantage and tried to get up, but Zereth's reaching hand found his hair and pulled him off his knees back to the floor. A following punch clocked him in the eye and further pacified him, at least enough for Zereth to rise and get on top of the man, straddling his torso and holding his arms down to the floor on either side. "What are you hiding you Gizka schutta?"
A lump was already developing on the bridge of Gavriel's eyebrow and there were spots of blood on his face and chest. It took a few moments before Zereth realized it was his own blood dripping from his mangled nose. For the moment he ignored the pain that was now welling up inside the front of his face and focused on the bruised face before him. When Gavriel did not speak Zereth released one of his hands for a moment and punched the man across the face. Hard. When the silence continued Zereth followed suit, but the man just looked up defiantly at Zereth. "Pain will motivate you." Zereth continued taking one of Gavriel's hands, who did not resist. He knew he could not fight back against Zereth. "You learned that lesson a long time ago when we taught you how to hurt others, but I feel that you have not felt it from the other side." and with that he seized a finger in both hands and wrenched it in opposite directions. There was resistance and then, with a cartilage break snap, slack. The man screamed, but Zereth slipped three fingers into the man's mouth, slipped them down his throat, and blocked his airways so that he could not make more that a gurgle of sound. Removing his fingers, he felt the man whimper before asking his question again. It took a second broken finger to get the whole story out.
"When the Sith Lords disappeared all members of the Pool of Fear stopped being afraid. We lost all control, but managed to strike a deal with Vance Iro. He let us keep the building and we became his watch dogs... *snap*... he has us take care of the people he doesn't like. We run a Pool of Fear for him now. He's gobbling up land across the city, buying from people we scare into leaving or selling their land cheap. Come on, I don't deserve this. I'm only here because Iro let me rent some of the space for cheap. There's like three families living in here, paying way too much..."
Zereth stood up, dragging Gavriel with him and throwing him up against the wall, his mangled hand listing lifelessly off to the side. "Your betrayal will not go unnoticed. You will be the first example. There will be many more." Behind Zereth, as he spoke, a pipe on the air regulator began to shake in place, bending out at the center. The device had once been used to run the air refreshers that kept the air from going stale in some of the deeper, less accessible areas of the compound, but now it was going to be turned into a tool of fear. The pipe, six feet long, was ripped free of it's joints, the machine was long ago deactivated and made no protest as Zereth ripped it's body apart with his mind. The pipe sailed into the air, turned horizontally so it was pointing it's length at Zereth's back, and then it shot across the room. Zereth shoved Gavriel up against the wall and stepped aside, letting the durosteel pipe drive itself into Gavriel's body, pushing through the wall behind him and embedding itself there, half the pipe still sticking out this side.
Gavriel's eyes had not even fluttered shut before Zereth had set to his grizzly task. Ten minutes later he was gone, using a stray rag to wipe his hand off as he left through the very way he entered. On the wall beside the corpse was written, in bold, thick letters: "We are not gone. We are not forgiving."
Looking up at the building from the street, Zereth's tan brows knitted into a frown. When he hailed the building to land, using the right codes, he was greeted with an unfamiliar voice that had refused him access and told him to bugger off. This was not the way it should be, so he was forced to park his craft elsewhere and come on foot to investigate. The place was locked down, and the access codes had been changed. Access refused, Zereth searched around the building, which was rather large but located between a dense city district and one of the warehouse districts. It was a relatively unused spot of land and that was what had made it perfect. Likewise now, in broad daylight, Zereth was able to move virtually unnoticed as he prowled around the building. He was dressed casually in a tunic and pants of soft colors, his long black, rigid hair flowing behind him like a trailing mane. Red eyes searched for a way in, and found it in a second story window. A sideways flick of his hand, first two fingers pressed up with the rest held down, caused the window to wiggle open. Then, with a glance around, he sprung up ten feet into the open window, tucking his legs in so that he landed on the window ledge, his tall, thin frame just barely fitting through as he slipped inside.
The window deposited him into the residential side of the compound as opposed to the docking bay side that held the facilities formerly used by the special forces police unit. Closing the window behind him, he became aware of the sound of footsteps. Ducking out of sight, he found a hiding place behind an air regulator unit tucked in the corner. A man slipped into view, walking slowly through the room Zereth had found himself in, which was empty except for the doorway the man came in and another one leading out the other side. The man was short and pig eyed with greasy black hair and bags under his eyes. He clutched a cup of cafe in his hand as he moved through the room. Zereth recognized the man as Gavriel H'jori, one of the sith's spies on the planet. The man had been useless in the arts of the force but possessed a very wicked mind that had allowed him to dominate those the sith had under their thumbs. His job had been to feed the fear into the men and women they were taking advantage of, but this facility was to remain empty and unused. This was most unusual.
Rather then poking around for hours and possibly never finding a clue, Zereth revealed himself from his hiding place, causing Gavriel to start and move for the door, which swung shut on it's own and locked itself. Zereth stood against the wall, making no threatening movement or showing any indication to close the other door, but would shut it just the same as he had with the first is Gavriel made a move for it. "Lord Lancer!" He said, his voice squeaky and troubled, as where his eyes, which darted wildly like mice trapped in his face. "Acolyte H'jori." Zereth replied, always the formal one. "Might I ask why I was refused access to the dock only hours ago and why, if not more pressing, you are within this structure at all. This building was off limits to anyone and designated for emergency use only. Explain. Now."
Gavriel sputtered for several moments, apparently too put on the spot to come up with an answer. "Um, well, as you know, that is, you all disappeared and I and the other Shades here were left on our own. We did not know what to do, so, um, we moved in here. We, that is I, did did not think you would return." The man replied, but he did not look at Zereth, he was instead looking at the door, the mug in his hand shaking ever so subtly. He was hiding something. If what he said was true he had nothing to fear from Zereth, who could not blame the man for being a cowardly rat.
"You are lying to me. That is unacceptable."
Zereth sprung across the room, jumping and using the wall as a spring board, his powerful long legs bunching up against it and throwing him forward. Gavriel made a run for the door, his mug falling from his hand, but Zereth had anticipated this and angled ahead of the running man so that his outstretched arm could catch the man at the waist and pull him down. The two tumbled to the ground together, Gavriel's limbs going mad as he tried to free himself. A stray elbow caught Zereth in the face as he rose on his shoulder and sent him back to the ground. Gavriel took advantage and tried to get up, but Zereth's reaching hand found his hair and pulled him off his knees back to the floor. A following punch clocked him in the eye and further pacified him, at least enough for Zereth to rise and get on top of the man, straddling his torso and holding his arms down to the floor on either side. "What are you hiding you Gizka schutta?"
A lump was already developing on the bridge of Gavriel's eyebrow and there were spots of blood on his face and chest. It took a few moments before Zereth realized it was his own blood dripping from his mangled nose. For the moment he ignored the pain that was now welling up inside the front of his face and focused on the bruised face before him. When Gavriel did not speak Zereth released one of his hands for a moment and punched the man across the face. Hard. When the silence continued Zereth followed suit, but the man just looked up defiantly at Zereth. "Pain will motivate you." Zereth continued taking one of Gavriel's hands, who did not resist. He knew he could not fight back against Zereth. "You learned that lesson a long time ago when we taught you how to hurt others, but I feel that you have not felt it from the other side." and with that he seized a finger in both hands and wrenched it in opposite directions. There was resistance and then, with a cartilage break snap, slack. The man screamed, but Zereth slipped three fingers into the man's mouth, slipped them down his throat, and blocked his airways so that he could not make more that a gurgle of sound. Removing his fingers, he felt the man whimper before asking his question again. It took a second broken finger to get the whole story out.
"When the Sith Lords disappeared all members of the Pool of Fear stopped being afraid. We lost all control, but managed to strike a deal with Vance Iro. He let us keep the building and we became his watch dogs... *snap*... he has us take care of the people he doesn't like. We run a Pool of Fear for him now. He's gobbling up land across the city, buying from people we scare into leaving or selling their land cheap. Come on, I don't deserve this. I'm only here because Iro let me rent some of the space for cheap. There's like three families living in here, paying way too much..."
Zereth stood up, dragging Gavriel with him and throwing him up against the wall, his mangled hand listing lifelessly off to the side. "Your betrayal will not go unnoticed. You will be the first example. There will be many more." Behind Zereth, as he spoke, a pipe on the air regulator began to shake in place, bending out at the center. The device had once been used to run the air refreshers that kept the air from going stale in some of the deeper, less accessible areas of the compound, but now it was going to be turned into a tool of fear. The pipe, six feet long, was ripped free of it's joints, the machine was long ago deactivated and made no protest as Zereth ripped it's body apart with his mind. The pipe sailed into the air, turned horizontally so it was pointing it's length at Zereth's back, and then it shot across the room. Zereth shoved Gavriel up against the wall and stepped aside, letting the durosteel pipe drive itself into Gavriel's body, pushing through the wall behind him and embedding itself there, half the pipe still sticking out this side.
Gavriel's eyes had not even fluttered shut before Zereth had set to his grizzly task. Ten minutes later he was gone, using a stray rag to wipe his hand off as he left through the very way he entered. On the wall beside the corpse was written, in bold, thick letters: "We are not gone. We are not forgiving."