The Past Always Catches Up To You ...

[Victor Numan]

Candle light flickered across the faces of those gathered.

"The Angel of Death has betrayed us..."

A man in clerical garb spke up from the group. The rest looked to him. They were all, like him, clad in vestments and stoles of fine velvet, yet they looked worn. Their eyes seemed tired, and their faces grubby. They murmured, then were interupted by the same man as before.

"The Crimson Sun cannot abide traitors..."

There was a general mumble of agreement as the hooded figures turned to look to each other, glancing about. Some groaned in annoyance, as they all knew what would come next.

"We destroy traitors."

The current of voices seemed to raise with mixed opinion. Some sounded pleased, whilst a few seemed to object. It seemed that one of the robed people had an overly strong opinion, as he stepped from the group towards the head of the congregation.

"Master, I will take her life."

He rose his hands to the hood that shrouded his visage and cast it away. Instantly, the torches around the room illuminated his eyes, wreathing them in fire. Though he seemed young in appearance, his eyes told of an ancient age unseen.

"Torus," the elderly hooded figure chimed.

"Who belives that Torus, Hurricane Reaper, should undertake this task?"

There was no reply, as a choking silence filled the room. Torus, the younger figure, squinted to his Master and clenched his fists within the folds of his robes.

"The rivalry between the Reaper and Angel is strong, will it not cloud your judgement in the heat of the chase?"

"Nay, mi'lord," came the instant reply from Torus.

"... We shall see," the Master waved one hand, and the clerics dissapeared into the shadows, "I entrust you with this task, Torus, make it swift and subtle."

The Hurricane Reaper nodded, a grin etching into his chiseled features. For a long time he'd wanted to take out his revenge on the Angel of Death, and now his time had come, as Death would turn on the Angel ...

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure stood on the balcony of the old worn house. Why was she here? She didnt know. It was a nice place, reminded her of a worn home, worn out by love. A home she had never had.
Her childhood had been of training, surviving and becoming a pure bred killer, who made no mistakes. She now moved silently, and actually had a hard time making noise sometimes. Her feet usually made no sound, she moved like a cheeta, on a hunt and she rarely spoke if there was no need, unless ingaging in friendly conversation. She could kill without a sound, had been a Crimson Sun assasin until she had deserted, after her brother had been killed. Or so she had though.
Azhure looked into the sky wondering if they would find her, if Torus would be assigned. Her arch-enemy. The reaper.::


::The angel of death and Hurricane Reaper faced each other, another test. Their weapons clashed with the other, movements were like a dance and the slience of their feet did not echo in the training halls. They were the two left in their age group, the rest had died in the tests, drowned or had been too slow.
Both faces did not show any guilt over killing, they had been brainwashed not to. He was the last male of the Kareshka group.

They circled each other, another training session.
Keshja, the fight to the death. Eradicting the weak. This was their seventh, it had been a draw all times, the elders knew they were different...they would be enemies, both powerful and strong with a deep hatred and resentment for each other because of ambition. A fine line between love and hate and the elders would make sure it would be hate...

The two children attacked each other, making no sound but attacking each other in a sick dance of death::

::Azhure looked out at the dust in the area and wondered what he was doing now::

[Victor Numan]

After being bid a safe journey from the Master, Torus departed from the chamber. He stept out from the darkened room into the light of the quad. All around their were corridors, with similarly dressed figures passing by quickly. Many carried books or cases, some even had weapons. Out beyond the wall infront of him people duelled with rapiers, pistols and all manners of weapons. In the distance a victim of the Keshja let out their final scream before fading to nothing.

Torus sighed deeply. That name, Torus, how long had he had it now? Every since he was young he had been with the Crimson Sun, they'd plucked him from his home and saved him, saved his soul from taint. Rarely did anyone ever speak his true name, infact he himself was beginning to forget it ...

But that had no matter now. He was to find her, and take her. Remove her. His own brethern, and reap her. So it shall be.

<center>***</center>

Robes now discarded he was dressed in a more formal convert suit. All black with storage comparments and the like, it hugged his form neatly. Striding out into the keep of the cloisters of the Sun, he mounted a speeder bike and sighed. Today would be a long day.

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure stepped into the ship, and for some reasojn turned around. Somethign was going to happen today or tomorrow and she knew it, but what was it? The force had given her a warning but she could not tell what it was.

The darkness of the ship stayed as she perferred darkness sometimes. It was not the darkness it was the comfort of dissapearing, she felt fear somehow, why? She never realyl felt fear and if she did, then it was blocked. This fear was intoxicating and it took a few minutes to go down, blocked. Fear slows you down, she had grown weak since joining the jedi in emotional hardness. Only one person had given her that fear, though it had been blocked and ignored for years. feared him, hated him and yes, defied him to show him he couoldnt best her. Ambition.
Was it there now? No.
How would she fare if she ever saw him again?
Azhure turned to the light and put it on dim, enough to see the screen on her datapad. This is what she loved doing best, going anywhere, exploring. making maps of places in her head.
Somehow the feeling didnt go away and it irked her the whole way to the next planet nearby::

[Victor Numan]

She had been uncharacteristically careless.

Each member of the Crimson Sun was given a chip, implanted into an unknown location of their body. This device would allow any other member to locate them at any time; this was useful for locating lost members, or captured comrades ... but also for finding traitors. All the way on his trip across the deserts on a speeder he had watched the screen of the gadget as it calculated her location, and now inside his ship it continued to monitor and lock on to the Angel's lifesigns.

"I thought you knew better than that..." he mumbled, turning from the control panel to gather up some weapons and such in his arms.

He dumped the load of gear into a satchel, groaning softly as he thought about what was coming up. He had been waiting to do this for a long time, and now that it was finally here his apprehension held him in a tight grip; he knew he could beat her, but he felt that in doing so he would beat himself - all the drive in him would deplete with her demise, unfortunately.

But it was the price he had to pay ...

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Ever since joining the GJO Azhure had softened. She was careful but somehow becoign emotional left some thoughts untouched. It might be true, emotions blind you.
She knew about the chip but what could you do? you cannot hide, why run. It was bound to happen one day. Azhure was sick of being too careful though it was a habit and the way her veyr midn thought.
Crimson Sun made you killers, elite in silence and that she would never lose, but also almost like robots in the processing of actions. You never really made a mistake, always knew what you were diong. It scared her when she did not knwo what she was doing or where she was going. It was a part of life she had never experienced before now. Anyone had to change, adapt. But would this adapting make her skills grow weaker. Make her mind a little less methodical. Making her mopre vunerable to Crimson Sun's attack. They would come after her eventually if they had not sent someone already. Rubbing her shoulder, near her tattoo she wondered if there was anyway to get under the skin and under some muscles to uninsert it. But if it did thee might be side effects, or instant termination.. The chip was under the tattoo.
She felt as if something bad would happen today and somehtign twigged. Could they have sent...no, they would have thought the hatred would blind their new best assasin. They wouldnt have.
She hope they hadnt.
Her ship landed on the rocky planet as it reached it's destination and she checked for her weapons, the feeling not going away. But why the hate? She did not feel the ambition anymore, did not want to kill. Would that become a weakness or strength. In act she didnt know how she felt about her clan brother...

Sittign down on the rock silently she looked around. barren cold, just like most assasins were.

[Victor Numan]

His arrival was momentarily delayed by asteroids belts around the planet, but none the less he was prompt. In the baren landscape you could see clearly for miles, and thus it would not matter where he touched down. Even if the Angel was parsecs away the magenta flair of the back engines would give away his location. The craft settled down with a soft hiss, landing ramp slipping out and open with fluid ease.

Victor trudged out onto the walkway, squinting at the late evening light. The sky was a soft shade of blue, illuminated by a phosphorant sun of the same hue. The grit and sand below foot was a pale cerulean, and depressed with a crackle as the assassins chunky boots crushed against it.

In training at the Crimson Sun one technique which he had learnt was to have the vision of a hawk. He could see for miles around, picking out interesting details or points which might hide things. His brow furrowed somewhat as he spotted a figure hunched over in the distance. It must have been here. He quickly unloaded his speeder and kicked it onto full throtle.

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure heard the noise, had seen the ship land and a very distant figure so she turned, not surprised. Watching as the speeder came closer she put her hand on her new weapon, given to her by Xazor. A crystal dagger that could be a lightsaber. A gift from a friend, assasin generally didnt have friends, somethign she felt glad about leaving Crimson Sin for. YOu were unhappy and you didnt even realize it. The daggers name was 'Light' and this would be the first time it would be used.
Her other weapon was one of her swords. It was the Claymore. Flexible, accurate and thin enough for tricky manouvers. Assasins made their own blades traditionally and usually had quite a collection of weapons. Her eyes connected with his and she did not smile. Did not say a word, there was no need to. A small cold smile that generated no warmth was enough to send the message across, though that smile had lost a bit of it's venom it used to have. There was not as much reason to hate and a jedi did not cultivate hate as weapon. Something she would have to keep in mind.
It had been a long time.. but something about him had changed.::

[Victor Numan]

Within minutes sand was kicking up near Azhure as the speeder drew in close to her. Calmly, the assassin dismounted the transport and stepped down onto the grit below. He gave a mock bow, his eyes remaining fixed always on the target.

"Angel ... it has been far too long," he said, his words laced with venom.

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure laughed, her hand was on her sword, but her body seemed to move without the look of tension. He had known her as Maigraith by code name, but if he, Torus had done his homework, he should have known the details. He looked considerably good from last time, the nasty cut to his side had gone. Yet there was that hardness that used to be in her eyes that was coming back now. She smiled sweetly, almost mockingly but it could have been taken both ways as she curtsied. All the while she never broke eye contact.::

Ah reaper. You always were a lousy actor.

::Azhure stood up, and looked him in the eye, a small smile twitching on her lips. They had finally sent someone. A small chill went down her spine, which was ignored, if noticed at all. Her voice was even, calm and conversational. The first thing you learnt in Crimson Sun is that death is a fact of life and not to be afraid to face it::

They've sent you to kill me I assume?

::As if knowing the answer already her sword was in front of her, she stood on even ground and awaiting his answer, never lost eye contact. Keshja was bound to happen, and he would be the one to die. Her honour demanded it::

[Victor Numan]

"You assume to much, Angel. I might be here to see an old friend,"

Victor folded his hands behind his back and paced forward, a sickly smile dancing on his lips as he walked to the right of Azhure.

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure laughed coldly::

The moment I believe you think of me as a friend will be one when I know somethign is wrong, and you do not go on trips juts to meet a friend. I'm not that stupid.

::She moved to the left, slowly and deliberately. her eyes watched every move he made and her mind was as sharp as an eagle in his presence. Her hands were on her weapon, and she watched as he seemed to do the same::

How is our oh wondourous and brutal leader been going? Is he dead yet?

[Victor Numan]

"Nay, our leader remains strong. He is much displeased with you, Angel."

Victor slid his arms over his chest and pryed his fingertips beneath the lapel of his jacket, withdrawing something from the inner pocket. He gripped the hilt of a small dagger in his hand, hiding it from the view of Azhure.

"Your betrayal of our sect is a disgrace, and he has sent me of all people to deal with you," he added bluntly.

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure smelt steel, having grown up with it her whole life and knew he was hiding something. An anger grew inside her, at herself, at him, at everyone who had taught her to be like....him. When she looked into his eyes she could see how cruel she had been.::

Betrayel? I grew tired of killing people without a proper reason. I grew tired of the ones I cared for being killed when it endangered my assasin mind. I grew tired of being locked under mind and my own thought and following orders my whole life, brainwashing! I grew tired of being a murderer and a slave! But one such as you may not see that... your mind is toof ar gone in corruptness and following. Your brainwashing succeed where as mine failed. No Reaper, you are a traitor to life itself

::The rush of emotion passed her, uncontrolled, unchecked. A force hit him on the throat for a few seconds before she withdrew with fear in her eyes. She had touched a side again she did not want to. Withdrawing the force from his thrat she calmed down, and let the emotionless faze take her again::

You are a traitor to life and I am learning to live. A friend such as you should understand that, or are we enemies. It has always been blurry. We have always hated each other for competition but now you are the best in CrimsonSun. Why so unhappy assasin?

[Victor Numan]

"I am not unhappy. I am emotionless. I have no need for basic weaknesses such as 'happiness'. I am content in my vocation."

Seeing she had already noted the weapon, he withdrew it. The blade was curved, and the hilt a dark crimson with the logo of a crescent moon upon it. A gem was set into the uncarved section of the moon, a pale blue sapphire. Its full length was nigh on two foot.

"You know why I am here, now let us begin."

[Azhure Darkstone]

::Azhure looked at him levelly for a second. Almost feeling sorry for him, she was reminded of how she had been and how it still and maybe always would effect her. He would never know what happiness felt like that. Once thought a weakness, and perhaps always would, happiness and emotion was also a strength.

Azhure had been emotionless, but she had also been lonely. She didnt want to think about Reaper dying lonely, would almost feel guilty about it as she could understand his state of mind. Instead she blocked her mind and heart from emotions, she still did not believe in using emotions in battle if unneccessary. Taking out her sword, it's double edged blade sparkled with what light there was.
It reminded her of Keshja, the fight to the death. The final test for one and just another test for the other. It would be the f9inal test for Reaper, and later she would not know how she would feel, he was much more than a friend, much more than an enemy. But right now he was an opponant. She did not say a word, there was nothign to say besides one thing. She wished him one thing as all deserved this.::

May you die with honour Reaper, and find emotion in the next life.