Turning Point: What‘s in a name

[Marc Tarkin]

The planet G'rho in the Varko sector was not all that far from the planet Bakura, where he had just been. It wasn’t a real busy world, nor one with a great deal of commerce or trade. It did however provide the young Tarkin a place to go so that he could sit and have a think on what had just occurred.

Over the course of the last couple of months he had finally found his sister again, having thought her dead many years ago. But it wasn’t quite that simple. It was much more complicated and he had to get away from Bakura to try and gather his thoughts and clear his head. G’rho would do just as good as anyplace else considering it was near and Bakura was still in a state of civil unrest.

He entered a seedy looking bar and was taken aback by the noise, smoke, and poor lighting. He wasn’t really one for frequenting bars so it did surprise him to see this here at this little outpost used mostly by smugglers and other people of questionable background and profession.

He walked to the bar and ordered a drink, hoping his out of uniform but still moderately upscale clothing would not attract any attention from some of the dangerous types he seemed surrounded by.

“Corellian Whiskey with Ice. Just give me an entire bottle of it and start a tab?” He flashed his ID card and was served.

He took the glass and the bottle and began to make his way through the plethora of bodies towards what looked to be a good place to sit.

[Marc Tarkin]

Luckily enough he was able to find an open table. It was small and positioned near the far back wall. He sat with his back to the wall so that he had a full view of the bar’s occupants. With such a crowd as this it was best not to turn your back on a single one of them.

He spun the top off the bottle and filled his glass watching the caramel colored liquid lift the cubes from its bottom. His body was here but his head was light years away, thinking back to the time he had spoken with his sister in the halls of the Sith Empire.

He found that she was a Force user and as such had chosen the way of the Sith. To him just the fact she was alive had been the real surprise, but that surprise wasn’t long in being the biggest.

Upon returning to Bakura, where his sister, under her Sith name Dalethria had told him their mother’s body was lain to rest, he came across another shock. He found his sister there too and at first thought it was Dalethria, but soon he learned different. This incarnation of his sister still used the name he had known her by throughout all their childhood together. she was Navaria. He also learned that she was a Force user, but for an opposing side than the one he had met previously. Navaria was Jedi.

He was uncertain which was his real sister and which was a doppelganger, but one thing was certain, the way of the Force was stronger in his family than he had ever thought.

Did that mean…

He finally removed his hand from the bottle and ran stiff fingers through his hair, lost in his thoughts.

[DarthHERA]

He'd caught her eye the moment he'd stepped into the smoke-hazed gloom of the bar.

The man was tall, well built and unusually neat in dress compared to the regular scum that frequented such places as this.
But that wasnt what had grabbed her attention.

His face seemed familiar for some reason.

Hera knew she hadn't ever met this man before - or even seen him for that matter. The Sith Master had a good eye for faces and could recall meetings and aquaintances easily, though sometimes she was hardput to remember names. But this was not one such occassion.

He took a seat and drank from his glass. His drink of choice, Corellian whiskey - well, she couldnt really hold that against him, she figured.

She studied him as she walked over from where she had been previously talking with a burly Trandoshan and approached his table - the features of his face...she knew them, she was sure of it.

She confidently sat down opposite him while he was yet in the process of running his fingers through his thick dark waves.
Despite the danger of sounding like she was trying a dusty old pick up line, she went ahead anyway with all seriousness.

"Do I know you?"

[Marc Tarkin]

Being so distracted by his thoughts he had barely noticed her approach. She was beautiful and there was just something about her that said to him; Danger. But what else would you expect from a female in a joint like this in such a, tucked away in the middle of nowhere, corner of the galaxy?

His hand came away from his head and settled in his lap while his other started to lift his glass. He answered her just before lifting the glass to his lips.

“You must have me mistaken for someone else.”

The sound of clinking ice cubes was heard next as he emptied his entire glass in one fell swig, setting the glass down and taking the bottle into the same hand, preparing to fill it again.

For some strange reason this woman’s state of dress almost reminded him of the first version of his sister he had recently encountered. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly why but knew it did. His other hand remained out of sight under the table, looking as if it was setting in his lap.

[DarthHERA]

She waited for him to say more, but he just poured himself another drink and looked at her.

Hera stretched back in her seat, to all looking completely relaxed and nochalant, though anyone who knew her, would know differently. She was as tightly wound as a spring, all her force senses alert to her surroundings and those in them. The bar was one like thousands of others and she was smart enough to know one never, ever, let their guard wane in such places.

"Maybe you're right."

She stretched out a leg into the aisle and rocked her heavily booted foot back and forth on its heel.

"You got a name to go with that bubbly personality of yours?"

[Marc Tarkin]

It was obvious by his posture that he wasn’t in the best of spirits even when she first arrived, and their stimulating little bit of conversation had done nothing to change his demeanor.

His glass was now filled and he placed the bottle back on the table, looking her directly in the eye as if to make his next response seem a little less dubious and evasive.

“The name is Marcus, but most just call me Marc.”

He didn’t like telling complete strangers his entire name first and last because his last name generally garnered quite a bit of attention he did not particularly want right now. He thought he might as well be courteous and offer her a drink, and he thought it might help distract her from further questions as to his complete identity.

“Would you like a drink Miss….?” His hand above the table tapped on the side of the bottle of whiskey as he paused for a moment.

“…Sorry, you have me at a disadvantage now. I didn’t catch your name.”

[DarthHERA]

"Hera" she supplied, noting the absence of his last name and doing likewise just for the heck of it.

She didnt think he would be quite so cagey, but she was used to people she came into contact with being meager in supplying details about themselves. It was just the way it was in the circles she moved in.

"Nice to make your aquaintance, Marc. No whiskey for me tho, im not a big fan of it. "

She flagged down the buxom waitress and ordered a rum from her. The server flashed Marc a flirtive grin before she moved off to get the drink, which made Hera smile thinly.

"Sorry to crash your table here, but you really do remind me of someone. I cant place the connection though. I guess I was curious."

The waitress returned and placed the rum on the table, bending lower than was required for the action in order to afford Hera's handsome company an ample view.

Hera grabbed the woman by her mousy brown hair and yanked her so she could snarl into her face. "Keep doing that, and I might get offended."

Releasing the wench to beat a hasty retreat, Hera turned pleasant and all conversational again.

"So...you're not from around here I take it?"

[Marc Tarkin]

"And you as well."

Being young and inexperienced with ladies, Marc had been enjoying the attention given him by the waitress. No sooner had it started to get interesting and it was suddenly over very abruptly. Watching Hera take the server by the hair and whisper something in her ear cause the young man, all of twenty years in age, to raise an eyebrow, wondering what words may have been exchanged.

The voice that had given him a sense of danger earlier was now giving him another warning, but he wasn’t familiar enough with what was happening to really recognize the signs. There was a tinge in the back of his head trying to tell him something.

Nervously he took another drink from his glass and swallowed it hard. He looked as if he was getting fidgety in his seat, like a rabbit that had just spotted its predator, not sure whether to flee or stand still so as maybe not be seen.

Almost unconsciously his head started to shake from side to side in response to her question. He barely even realized he was doing it and then it hit him suddenly, he was acting even less his age then he was and he quickly tried to cover it up but did a poor job of both via what he said and its tone in his voice.

“No, I have spent most of my time in far more populated places than this. I take it you are a regular here?”

Rigid fingers ran through his hair.

[DarthHERA]

She couldnt stop the smile as it crept across her lips.

"Do I make you nervous?"

She didnt wait for a reply. It was obvious by the way he kept shifting in his seat, the way he felt the need to keep his hand moving restlessly, finally running his fingers again through his hair. All the signs were too easily recognisable.

When she thought about it, she supposed she could be a little unnerving in her manner. It wasnt deliberate - its just the way she ways. She always felt the best road was the direct road and it was evident in almost every aspect of her life. She saw something she wanted, she took it. She needed to know something, she found about it. If she was threatened by something, she eliminated the threat. Hera saw no reason in the wasting of time.

It was why she had approached Marc in the first place. She wanted to know why he seemed familiar and so had come right up and asked.

But he was being coy, and not giving her much information.

She hadnt realised how green he was. He appeared confident and self-assured when he had first arrived and it lent him a maturity that belied his youth. But sitting here across from him, seeing his thoughts in a turmoil as to her intent toward him, she found his discomfort amusing. She knew she meant him no harm, but he didn't. And she found this funny.

She tried to put him at ease, though this was not her specialty..putting people at ease.

"To answer your question, no - I am new here myself."

She drank down her rum in one tilt of her hand.

"I dont often travel this close to the Outer Rim, even though my business takes me all over the galaxy on a regular basis. You could say I was just in the neighbourhood."

She made a point of looking him over, taking in his neatly cropped hair, his smart clothing...

Her tone held a good-natured teasing quality to it,

"Let me guess, your a rich kid who's tired of living with the folks and want to "see the world"?"

[Marc Tarkin]

Her last words brought a grin to his face, which was followed closely by his looking around from side to side hoping her words had not gotten anyone else’s attention. It was true he was a rich kid and his clothes probably made that fairly obvious, but advertising it verbally wasn’t a wise thing to do. It appeared no one else had take notice, appeared.

“You’re half right, except my parents are dead, and the thing I used to consider my family is in complete shambles right now.”

He was referring in a very subtle way to the current state of the Galactic Empire, which he had only just learned of during his journey from Bakura to this world.

He paused after speaking that, still wearing his good natured smile and took another big drink from his glass of whiskey. It wouldn’t take much more of the stuff and he would probably be pouring his whole life story out to this woman whom he really didn’t know. Her playfulness and the alcohol would certainly loosen him up.

“I’m beginning to think it may be time for me to pursue a change of careers.”

Just as he spoke that last word, he lifted his other hand from under the table slowly. Upon his right ring finger was a large gold ring, emblazoned with the Imperial insignia. His eyes wandered down to his hand so that he could give away his profession without saying it aloud. He had no idea how some of the patrons here may react to there being an Imperial officer here.

Once he was sure she had seen his ring, he moved his hand slowly under the table and back into what appeared to be his lap again. The odd tinge he had in the back of his head from earlier, still present but unrecognized by him. Something unseen was trying to tell him something, but he didn’t speak its language. He was more like his sister and her clone than he knew.

[DarthHERA]

She'd dropped her eyes to the hand Marc had significantly placed on the table. It was there just a moment, but long enough to speak volumes. His clothing, his manner...it all suddenly fell into place and Hera wondered why she hadn't picked him for a military man in the first place.

She raised her blue luminous eyes to his and he realised instantly she now knew a great deal more about him than just the moment previous.

"A carreer change, huh" she said, not shifting her gaze from his.

She noted that the whiskey was putting him in a more amiable state as reflected by his sudden revelation of past and possible future. She saw more in this young man though. Potential. Though for what exactly, only time would really tell. It all depended on which path he chose.

He had, right now, the look of a man on the road to nowhere and who had just realised he was lost.

Hera placed her empty glass down and looked about for the waitress who was no where to be seen. Small wonder. The wench was atleast smart enough to protect her own skin. Someone was bound to be by again.

She reached over and took the whiskey bottle together with Marc's empty glass and poured a generous amount into it. Then waving her hand in a very slight forward movement, she returned the glass using the force to slide it silently across the table.

"What kind of thing are you looking to do?"

[Marc Tarkin]

Seeing the glass move into his waiting hand all on its own suddenly made him realize why Hera seemed to remind him of Dalethria when she first approached. The way they carried themselves, the way they dressed and just the air the exuded. He stared at the glass for a second barely making out what she had last said to him.

Finally he blinked it off and unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair yet again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Before getting a reply he was reaching into his inside jacket pocket, something that might make some nervous he was about to draw a weapon, but his eyes showed that he had no ill intentions. They were big blue and looking a little lost and confused.

From out of his pocket he pulled his hand in a fist, cupping something inside. He turned his hand over next to his glass and opened it, then took his glass up and took a drink, emptying the container of half its contents. Sitting next to his glass after he set it down were two small holo cubes. Normally used for portraits. He taped their tops with a fingertip and both lit up and displayed the full body three dimensional images each contained.

One was the first incarnation of his sister he had met, the Sith Mistress Dalethria. The other was the second incarnation of his sister he had recently found and left behind on Bakura, the Jedi Knight Navaria Tarkin.

“You wouldn’t happen to know either of these women would you?”

[DarthHERA]

Surprise registered on the Siths face when she recognised Dalethria in the holo projection.

Surprise gave way to shock when Hera realised the second was not just another image of Dale, but rather what could only be her Jedi clone. So, the rumours were true...

Looking from Dalethria's image to Marc, the resemblence was marked and the Sith now knew why he seemed familiar. It wasn't just their looks..it was their mannerisms, the way they held their posture...little things that were passed on through generations. They were family.

Hera raised her eyes back again to Marc's.

"I know them both."

It was his turn for surprise.

"Dalethria I am good friends with....The other, I helped create."

He could tell by the way she answered that he wasnt going to get a great deal more information on that.

Then she said, a rare soft smile turning the corners of her mouth.

"You look like her."

[imported_Callista]

The crowd. The smell. The atmosphere. Callista grinned as she took a single step into the bar. Oh, how she had missed this! She took in a long drawl of the oxygen, then let it out with a satisfied sigh. Smoke, alcohol, and sweat. What every bar was made of.

The grin remained plastered on her face, as she looked out over the crowd of alien and human alike seated at various tables. Half of them, she guessed, were involved in illegal operations, which wasn’t so uncommon in this part of the galaxy. In fact it was why she had even come to this hole in the wall. Smuggling…she had fallen from that line of work years ago, ever since the Force had come calling. Now she itched to be back in the saddle, flying illegitimate goods around the galaxy. And one person was going to help her get in the business again…

Hera. If it were humanly possible, Callista’s smile engulfed her face as she spotted the top of the blonde woman’s head. She had thought she would beat the fellow Sith to their rendezvous point, but she should have known better; Hera was always punctual.

Twisting and weaving her way through the sea of patrons, she approached the table Hera and…a man occupied. A dark brow immediately arched at the sight. She had not known there would be anyone else at the meeting. Or at least Hera had not mentioned it. Her footing faltered a moment as she stopped to look at him. No, he wasn’t familiar looking at all; she didn’t know him.

Her lips puffed out in thought. “Hmm…” With a sudden shake of her head, she continued forward, concluding it hardly mattered if she figured out who he was. If Hera was sitting with him, he had to be there for a reason. As her steps fell within reach, she noisily pulled out the vacant chair, swiveled it around and sat on it backwards, draping her arms casually over the back.

[Marc Tarkin]

His jaw practically hit the table top as his mouth became agape with utter surprise, Imagining the odds of finding someone who knew his sister in such a way back corner of the universe as this boggled his mind. But that wasn’t all, Hera had just answered one of the questions which had been plaguing him since his departure from Bakura after running into the incarnation of his sister that used her original name. Navaria was the clone and Dalethria was his true sister.

He reached for the cubes and took then into his hand, closing his wide-open mouth as he tucked them back into his pocket. He had noticed Hera looking for the waitress earlier and just at that moment caught sight of her over Hera’s shoulder, some distance away. He raised a hand and flagged her over to the table.

The waitress steered very clear of Hera as she approached.

“Get my guest another rum please.”

Once the waitress was gone Marc looked back to Hera, some of his confusion gone, but replaced by a look of shock and slight embarrassment.

“Yes, she is my sister.” He paused for a second, took another drink from his whiskey and then continued.

“I always thought I was destined to follow in my father’s, and his father’s before, footsteps. But with what I have learned about my Sister, I’m not certain if that is truly what is right for me any more. It could be that I am destined for something else entirely.”

While he had been talking he noticed the other woman approaching. Having one’s back to the wall was good for not being caught off guard. At first there was nothing too unusual about it. Most of the patrons had taken the time to give him the once over, but besides Hera here, this was the first to actually come all the way to the table and act as if they had been invited.

He looked to both women questioningly and appeared as if he was starting to feel the effects of the whiskey.

[DarthHERA]

Hera jumped up and gave her friend a generous hug pulling Callista half out of her chair.

Then she gestured to Marc as he sat smiling, watching them.

"Callista meet, Marcus, (leaning forward like a conspirator) but most just call him Marc. Marc, meet Callista ”

They sat once more and nodded her head toward him, "He's Dalethria's brother. We just happened to bump into each other here. Small world huh."

Despite Hera's jovial mood, she took to heart what the handsome young man had just shared with her. Through the light banter generated by Callista's arrival, she mused inwardly over what he'd said and wondered if he had shared any of this with Dale.

She lifted the whiskey bottle in a gesture to the barkeep to send another. Atleast she would not be guilty of not showing her good friends lil bro a good time.

[imported_Callista]

Callista smiled at Hera’s greeting and clapped her friend on the back. Then as Hera directed her attention to the man sitting at the table, her smile was almost immediately wiped from her face. Just by his look he seemed out of place: his clothing, his hygiene, his disposition, it just all seemed so…fresh. The only feature that matched the milieu of the bar was the bottle of Corellian Whiskey maintaining a place in front of him.

Not wanting to miss a beat, she offered a hand and a polite flash of teeth. “Dalethria’s brother, eh? Small world indeed…” Although Callista didn’t know Dalethria personally, she had heard plenty about her…or so she had thought. She hadn’t realized she possessed a brother. A very attractive brother…

[Marc Tarkin]

He stood as a sign of respect as they were introduced and she offered a hand. He took it and bowed slightly. The alcohol making him even more polite and friendly than he probably would be to a complete stranger on a normal occasion. As he bowed h brought her hand to his mouth and pressed his lips lightly to it. Not even thinking that doing such thing may have consequences the likes of having his half empty bottle of whiskey broken over his head.

He looked back up and said.

“A pleasure to meet you Callista.”

Hera was no doubt going to notice how differently he had treated Callista then he had her when they first met, but the conversation and the drinks had certainly relaxed his mood. He took his seat again just as the waitress returned with Hera’s rum and the second bottle of whiskey. Marc stopped her for a second and asked Callista.

“Would you like something else?” He tapped on the full bottle of whiskey on the table as he sat back down.

[DarthHERA]

Hera took up the rum, to hide the sly smile that had crept once more to her lips. The exchange of greeting between Callista and Marc was definitely a warm one and she stretched back once more in her chair, removing herself a little from the conversation as she watched what would transpire.

[imported_Callista]

As she had done so often since entering the establishment, Callista raised both brows as Marc’s lips found her hand. She had half a mind to deck him right there, but didn’t. He was on the intoxicated side and doing so would only draw unwanted attention towards their party.

“Mmm…a pleasure to meet you as well, Marcus.”

Why must they be charming while drunk? Without indication she passed a short word to Hera, connecting minds briefly.

Callista flaunted a smile towards Marcus as he signaled to the drink in front of him. She stole a quick glance at the waitress finding her shifting her gaze between Marcus and Hera. Something surely had happened earlier...

“Whiskey sounds great to me, as long as you’re buying.”

[Marc Tarkin]

That tinge in the back of his head started at him again, even more noticeably this time. He still had no idea what it was but this time he shifted his head around on his neck as if stretching the muscles. He heard Callista’s answer and asked the waitress to bring another glass.

“If I might ask, what line of work are the two of you in?”

He didn’t really expect a correct answer from either of them, but it was possible he could be in for another surprise.

[DarthHERA]

Waiting for the waitress to leave once more, their drinks all replenished, Hera glanced around the room non-committally.

She would let Callista answer for herself, as part of that answer was the reason the two women had arranged to meet up in this outta-they-way "oasis" in the first place. She and Call went way back, but it had been some time since they had done anything together.

"Im in Transports and Aquisitions, pretty much." She grinned, pausing pointedly, "Among other things.."

[imported_Callista]

Line of work…Well actually she had no line of work as of yet. But by meeting Hera here she had hoped to solve such a quandary. As Hera replied, Callista took the liberty of pouring herself some Whiskey from the full bottle. She waited just a moment more as she took a sip to test the quality, letting Marc mull over what exactly was meant by “other things.”

Catching his gaze as an indication for her turn to answer, she set the glass down in front of her and shrugged slightly. “I’m unemployed at the moment.” Not knowing Marcus’ feelings on illegal operations, she left her answer at that. She felt no need to run the fellow off so soon.

Cradling the glass once again in her hand, she lifted it halfway then stopped to speak. “And as for you? Surely you must do more than get drunk, and attract the attention of women.” A grin lit up her face as she brought the glass rim to her lips.

[Marc Tarkin]

It felt to Marc as if someone had just turned the heat up in the bar by about forty degrees. His face filled with color and he averted his eyes from direct contact momentarily. Besides Callista’s last comment, which caused him to feel this way.

The answers he had received were about what he had expected. Those, coupled with the on the spot question from Callista brought a unique question of his own to mind. But, he would get to that after he responded to one posed to him. There was no reason to be rude or seem as if he were being evasive. Even though he wasn’t real forthcoming with clear details.

“My employers are too busy wresting for majority control to even realize I exist, causing my heart to not really be in it. Lets say I just work for myself these days seeking excitement.”

Ice cubes rattled in his glass as he spun/stirred his drink before taking a healthy sip from it. Once finished, he posed the question that had come to mind previous to his answer. His question was in response to what Hera had said, but his eyes were fixed on Callista and they way her lips seemed to caress the glass she sampled her whiskey from.

“Do you find these other things you mentioned.......fulfilling?”

The corner of one side of his mouth curled into a sly looking grin, but it may have been completely innocent if it weren't for the alcohol....may have been.

[DarthHERA]

Marc's line of sight was taken up completely by Callista. He was speaking to Hera, but his attention was definitely on her companion.

Slowly it dawned on him that Hera was tilting in her chair - her head slowly coming into the radius of his vision and almost touching to Callista's head.

A wide grin split her face and he could hear the mischief in her voice when she answered him "Oh, very fulfilling."

She let her chair drop back with a thud and she stood abruptly.

"Im gonna get some more rum, I'll let Callista here educate you on the what dangerous women we are." She kicked Callista's chair leg as she passed, her equivilant to a goodnatured shot in the arm, and then made her way over to engage the Bar tender, hoping to find some better under-the-counter quality rum.

[imported_Callista]

Callista bit back a laugh. She could sense the movement of Hera beside her trying to get the attention of the beau at the other end of the table.

Her icy gray gaze remained fixed on Marcus, amused at his sudden take of interest. Caused by the intake of alcohol? More than likely, but Callista wouldn’t miss an opportunity to play with it.

She ran her tongue along the curve of the glass, catching a drop of escaped liquor. Her eyes never left his face, even as Hera rose and kicked at her chair leg. Oh, she would definitely have to instruct him. One way or another…

After just a few seconds she had to suppress a smile by quickly tossing back the last bit of whiskey from her mug. She caught a chunk of ice between her teeth and began to crunch on it. Briskly setting the glass down with a loud clank against the surface, she shifted in her seat, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the the edge of the table. “So…what brought you to this backwater planet? …And especially here to this establishment? You don’t seem the type to frequent such places.” She poked a well-manicured finger in the air at him, indicating his clean-cut choice of clothing.

[Marc Tarkin]

Hera’s antics managed to draw his eye for a second and her answer a grin. But his eyes quickly snapped back to the one whom they had been surveying so intricately before as Hera left. His gulp as he watched Callista’s enticing and suggestive mannerisms was probably clearly audible. A semi inexperienced youth who had spent the majority of his childhood in the sheltered and structured ways of military life didn’t have much experience with the opposite sex, but his libido was his guide now, something Callista fully intended more than likely.

Her questions sounded to him almost as if they were spoken in an echo filled tunnel. His hormones and blood alcohol content were starting to get the better of him. Discipline and control had been things he was taught for the last twelve years, but with his current situation, he was letting that discipline and control slip away. He was here to try and find new direction and adventure. One of which he had already seemed to find. this did seem to be an adventure so far.

He looked down at his clothes and then from side to side at his surroundings.

“You are right. I don’t fit in very well around here do I?”

It was a rhetorical question obviously since it matched what she had said in its own way. He continued on, as his hand seemed to clench the glass of whiskey a little tighter, possibly a sign of nervous anticipation.

“As for what brought me here, I’m really not sure. I just needed to get away from someone and consider my future and the possible directions it may take.”

[Navaria Tarkin]

Memonam Transport - Destination Yavin

A lone Jedi Knight sat in the passenger area of the Memonam, graciously provided by her friend, Gaeriel Captison, Prime Minster of the now free planet of Bakura.

It was hard to get past the face and hair at first glance, but when one looked hard enough, the robes were not used for deception. Navaria Tarkin was indeed a Jedi. A servant of the Light that shone brightly in the softness of her blue eyes.

But those eyes showed confusion and sadness while she brooded over what happened on the planet. By chance, no ... by the Force, she was reunited with her younger brother, Marc!

The joyous occasion soon became overshadowed by who he thought she was.

Dalethria.

At first he was going to call her by her proper name but no, it came out the name of her tormentor.

Dalethria.

It was because of her, that Marc was completely baffled to Navaria's presence. She was suppose to be a Sith to him. She was suppose to be this Master of the Dark Side to him. But she was only a Jedi. A Jedi that Marc started to become bitter towards as they departed.

That caused her to scowl. Not something normally seen by her fellow Jedi, and thankfully, Navaria was happy that no one could see it. It was quite unbecoming of the Knight.

"She got to him first."

She said out loud to no one.

<Mz. Tarkin? We're gonna be comin' out of hyperspace soon. You'll be home in 'bout an hour>

"Thank you. And thank you again for taking me home."

Navaria relaxed back into her thoughts. They were filled with only questions about her brother and what he must think of her as the spiraling effect of stars quieted to the tiny streaks of light that signified subspace travel.

OOC~ Continues here http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=22743

[imported_Callista]

Intrigued eyes creased at the edges as she gazed unabashedly at him an instant. There was something about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on… She had a notion to probe his mind, observe his thoughts, uncover just what was under the surface, and who exactly he was avoiding. She wanted to know everything about him, all in that instant. But something stopped her. Whether it was because he was drunk and couldn’t unconsciously fight back making it all too easy, or the realization that by ‘everything’ she had meant more than just his reasoning for being here, she didn’t know.

Callista’s eyes averted as she reached for the neck of the whiskey bottle. A perfect excuse to recollect wandering thoughts. Refilling her glass and topping off his, she began to trace a fingertip along the lip of her drink, slowly circling around the rim. She had no desire to get drunk, finding it much more amusing to watch him. A full glass just kept the appearance.

She propped her chin in her unoccupied hand; full lips deliberately puffed out as if pouting. Lifting her brows, she batted her long dark lashes once in his direction. She would get to him, if she hadn’t already…

[Marc Tarkin]

Either the room was too smoke filled or his vision was beginning to become impaired. He could hardly believe that the exquisite vision of a woman that sat before him was making cutesy faces and batting her eyelashes at him. He momentarily closed his eyes and shook his head, thinking that when he opened them he would be staring at an expressionless face.

That wasn’t what waited for him. He had not been seeing things at all. There she sat still gazing at him in what appeared to be a very enticing and somewhat inviting manner. He felt as if all of his limbs had become durasteel. He froze completely still unable to move, not sure what to do. A nervousness he wasn’t at all familiar with overcame him completely and just had to be evident in his eyes and posture.

”I need more whiskey.” He thought to himself, trying to gather the ability to move again.

She was toying with him, but he had no idea that was the case. Being young and naive in the ways of the opposite sex was definitely putting him at a great disadvantage at this time.

After what seemed like five minutes but was more like one in reality, he lifted his glass, thanking her for refilling it as he did, but his voice sounded dry and strained.

“T..hank y…ou.”

He heard how he sounded and quickly doused his dry mouth with the brownish liquor to try and cover up what had just happened, and to hopefully keep it from happening again. In his haste he ended up emptying the glass in one swig. Seventy five percent of it went where it belonged and the remaining twenty five percent out around his mouth, over his cheeks, through his hair, and onto the floor behind him.

“Oh dren!” He exclaimed.

Now he had really made a fool of himself he thought to himself as he reached for a facecloth on the table. He could barely bring himself to look into her eyes again because of his shame. As he wiped his face his blue eyes drifted up and caught hers to see her reaction to his accidental antics.

[imported_Callista]

Callista lifted her head from her hand, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. My how he certainly looked… pleasurable. She had to bite her lower lip to keep from bursting forth a sharp laugh. Where was Hera at a time like this? She was surely missing out!

Just seeing his alcohol drenched face almost brought a look of guilt and pity to her face…almost.

She caught his eye as he looked at her. Rising slightly from her seat, she leaned over the table and reached for the cloth. “You missed a spot.” She just managed to miss the cloth, her hand wrapping around his. Moving it towards his cheek, she helped him brush the last bit of drink from his face. “There.” With a wink and smile she sat back down in her seat, twisting her body around to scope the place for Hera. She'd let Marcus clean the rest of himself up. He certainly didn't need her laughing at him.

[Marc Tarkin]

The sensation of her hand touching his was twenty times more stimulating than seeing her bat her eyelashes at him, but now was the time to try as best he could to keep his composure. He had made more than a fool of himself and the last thing he wanted to do was run her off.

He smiled and thanked her for the help, with a wink of his own right back. Then saw her turn to look for Hera. Her return now would be good. That way he could excuse himself for a moment to visit the fresher room and get himself cleaned up properly. He wouldn’t be so rude as to leave Callista here by herself.

“She did say she was coming back....didn't she?”

He said casually to the back of Callista’s head, the last two words so quietly they probably wouldn't be heard. He wasn't really expecting an answer, remembering how it seemed as if the two knew each other well when Callista first arrived and was introduced by Hera.

[imported_Callista]

Using the back of the chair as support, she strained her neck, moving from side to side to get a better view of the bar. She was sure that had been where Hera was last heading. Heh… Callista’s lips pursed and her shoulders lifted in a shrug. Hera was a big girl, she’d return eventually.

Turning her upper torso back around to face Marcus, she realized he had said something. “Hmm? …Oh, yes…she will. I wouldn’t doubt she found some business in here.” As she spoke she lifted herself to her feet and grabbed the chair back with a hand. Twirling it around on one leg she straightened it out and sat down…correctly this time, as a chair should have been sat in. She went immediately back to entertaining herself with the whiskey glass, her eyes glancing up at Marcus a moment.

“If you need to go clean up, do so. No need to sit in it and let it dry.” She bared her teeth in a wide grin and waved a hand at him in dismissal. “I’d come help you out, but I wouldn’t want Hera thinking we left her.” Laughing lightly she took another drink, eyeing him from over the brim.

[Marc Tarkin]

“Oh alright then, if you don’t mind me leaving you here by yourself.”

Came his reply as he started to stand, feeling warmer again as she looked at him. It was obvious she could handle herself seeing she had arrived here alone, but he was just being polite.

Marc started to walk past her chair smiling at her as he did.

“I won’t be long.”

[imported_Callista]

“Oh, please don’t be.” She winked, tossing a smile at him as he left. Downing another swig of her liquor she laughed. What a fool. Either it was the whiskey controlling his actions or he really had not been around women much. Either way, she had enjoyed flirting and teasing him so, watching him squirm. Men were so bamboozled when it came to women and it tickled her knowing that truth.

Leaning back in her chair, she continued to nurse the glass of whiskey, awaiting the return of…anyone actually.

[Gologna]

(He had been watchin her and him for a while now, waitin for just the right time to make a move. Now he saw it and made his way over to the table as the youngin left. He smirked at the young man then eyed the lady from behind.)

“Git along babe face. Ya’ve not got what it takes for tha likes o this catch.”

(His head motioned towards Callista.)

"Let a real man be show'n ya how's it be done."

[Marc Tarkin]

He wasn’t even past Callista when the bald tattooed freak started mouthing off to him. The back of his mind had been filled with a growing anger and building hatred for his false sister, Navaria the Jedi Knight, along with the alcohol and now this incident, that even before he started to reach for his blaster, his anger reached a boiling point which even he did not expect. It’s results even more shocking.

As one hand reached for the blaster he kept in his jacket, before the man was even finished with his first sentence, his second hand raised up palm open as if to say stop right there. Just as Gologna finished his caveman-esque speech, Marc felt the surge of anger rush through his body and exit his hand. It stopped his right hand on its way to his weapon, but had a result he never expected to see in all his life.

Gologna was suddenly lifted from his feet as his body was tossed backwards by some invisible Force. People gasped and ducked as he went through them striking his head on a lighting fixture before finally coming to land in the middle of the cantina.

Marc’s following expression was full of shock and disbelief. He was struck almost speechless and looked down at his empty hand.

“Did I……..”

[imported_Callista]

Callista’s hand stopped mid-motion, as she was about to bring the glass up for another drink. A brow arced as she cautiously revolved her head around to look straight at the voice that had risen above all others in the tavern. She was immediately taken back by the site. How repulsing! Tattoos and piercings littered the man’s entire face and body. How he thought he could get any woman was beyond her.

Her upper lip curled into a snarl as he moved towards her. She didn’t want to cause a scene here…but she would break something if need be, if he tried laying a single hand on her.

The thoughts had barely entered her mind when Marcus caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She kept her gaze fixed on the bald man, keeping track of the younger through her mind’s eye. What was he up to? Surely Marc didn’t think he could take this man under the influence.

She opened her mouth to make some sort of witty remark to the ugly one. Her jaw continued to drop as he was lifted from his feet.

What the…? She expected to see Hera when she whirled her head around. It was Marcus. His hand was outstretched, a look of pure hate washed over his face.

Her eyes flitted back to the other man who was now barreling down, landing solidly against the floor with a distinct thud and cracking noise. She winced and once again turned to Marc. His expression had completely changed from anger to shock. This was obviously not a reoccurrence everyday for the young man. In fact, just by his reaction, this was the first time it had happened.

Cognition struck her like a hammer. He was Force sensitive. And why not? If his sister was Dalethria, a Sith Master, why wouldn’t he have such potential? A sadistic smirk gradually spread across her face. She could use this…

[Gologna]

(At right about the time he was going to move to the seat next to the hot little filly, he saw the babyface boy glaring at him. Before the laugh could erupt from his exposed belly, what felt like a dura-steel bulkhead that he couldn’t see struck him. It hurt like the three plagues but that wasn’t the last of it.

Thoughts of revenge were stewing in his mind already as he sailed airborne. Thoughts which came to a sudden halt as his head struck something solid. Everything went dark as he fell to the floor in a heap, his shoulder snapping as it was dislocated by the impact.)

[Marc Tarkin]

No sooner had his question come from his mouth and his eyes focused on his hand than the room began to spin. This unknown power he had just used, in its magnitude, had sapped his strength, while the alcohol didn’t help the lack of it in the first place.

He removed his hand from his blaster and reached for the table edge next to Callista as his knees started to feel weak.

“Something is wro….”

Before he finished his sentence, his eyes rolled up in his head and closed. He went out like a light that had just been switched off, his knees buckling and causing him to collapse right into the lap of the, turned around facing him, Sith woman as she sat in her chair.

[imported_Callista]

The Sith’s reflexes were fast, her instincts much faster. She watched as Marcus clumsily reached for the table, trying to steady himself. He was going to fall. And down he came.

“Whoa…hey! Marc!” Jumping from her chair she quickly kicked it back out of the way her arms sliding under his, hoping to catch him and slow his decent. But she did just opposite of that. Under the weight, she slid to the floor, landing on her knees, his upper half falling into her lap.

“Well…Didn’t think I’d have him falling for me quite this soon.” She half laughed at her own pun, then looked down at him realizing he was out. “Oh, frell…Somebody get me a wet cloth?” There were plenty of spectators, but it seemed that none were moving or getting up to aid. She mumbled several curses under her breath.

He just had to faint! She leaned her face down right in front of his and lightly tapped his cheek with her hand. “Hello…Marc? Wakeup!” He didn’t seem to be listening either. He didn't stir once. She let out an exasperated sigh.

Damn…Hera?

[The Narrator]

The activities that had occurred at the back of the bar and spread to the middle of it, had not gone unnoticed by the other patrons and the staff. Seeing a large man tossed across the smoke filled room was not something one normally witnessed here.

Many of those near enough to hear and see the exchange were expecting to see Marcus get bullied and possibly bloodied by the rude Gologna. But much to their amazement that didn’t happen and now there were many strange eyes on both Callista and the unconscious Marcus. They were being scrutinized, scorned in whispers, and studied by some.

Meanwhile, the bar’s bouncers had just finished moving Gologna’s out cold carcass off of the floor, tossing him unceremoniously out the back door. They were now heading in the direction of Marc and Callista looking not the least bit pleased.

The bar’s owner could be seen speaking into a comm. device behind the bar. Who he might be talking to was a mystery, but it sure was starting to look like Marcus was about to be in some kind of predicament. One that he had no way to protect himself from at the current moment in time since he was in a prone position in the Sith vixen’s hands and lap.

[DarthHERA]

The bartender had been as slippery as an eel. From at first hedging about revealing the primo rum he kept in a locked cupboard beneath the bar until he saw the weight of Hera's credit purse, to the niggardly information about the general state of "business" in this part of the planet and its neighbour, Bakura.

He had been warming up by degrees the longer the Sith Smuggler plied her charm, and Hera finally was finding out some usuful information.

Callista and Marcus seemed to be getting along handsomely and the occassional glance in their direction showed them talking and laughing. That was, until the last glance over her shoulder took in a heavily tatooed individual who, by his swaggering manner, practically shouted a beligerent menace.

Within seconds of the scum's approach to the table, the most unexpected thing happened. "Kid brother Marcus" force-threw the interloper halfway across the bar, rending him an unconscious blight on the dirty bar-room floor.

The throw was wild and uncontrolled, as if the young man had no idea he possessed such ability, but it was effective nonetheless and revealed an intersting turn on things. Hera laughed at its unexpectedness.

She noticed though, the bartender didn't share in her amusement. She had gathered already from him that the folk round these parts, like alot of other places, were very nervous around force users and the following buzz of suspicious and angry voices that arose from this latest development told the Sith Master it would be a good time to pay up their tab and call it a night. Atleast if they wanted to avoid the now collapsed Marcus from waking up in some stinking gaol - or worse.

Hera dropped a bag of credits in the barmans hand, ample to cover all the drinks the 3 of them had, and pushed her way through the curious crowd to Callista.

The bouncers had uncerimoniously deposited Gologna in the gutter outside and were moving quickly toward the pair at the table.

Hera focused on the two burly men and threw one, then the other by the force over the bar, crashing them into the rows and rows of liquor stacked on shelves behind it. The second bouncer's foot collecting the expensive bottle of rum as he went over and sending it careening to an explosive end on the ground. She then drew her lightsaber "Atropos" and ignited first one, then the other end - the brilliantly glowing weapon in her hand and her bold display of dark force was a defiant warning of who they planned to try to take should any have such a notion.

"We'll be leaving now."

She left it to Callista to bring Marcus, still drained but beginning to rouse, and waited for them to move out ahead of her out of the bar, and watched carefully as patrons parted to give them leave, for anyone who would try to stop them.

[Marc Tarkin]

Slowly things started to become light again. His eyes opened to see her face and feel her hand upon the side of his own. He could see her lips moving but it took a few more seconds before he could make out any of the words.

“…go!”

He seemed to pick up that last word, both audibly and in a way ringing inside his head, which he thought must just be some kind of after affect of having fallen.

”I did fall, right?” He thought to himself, his eyes quickly panning around noting his position and verifying that he was on the ground.

He struggled to his feet, still weak and relying on her help to a great extent. Once in a standing position he noticed Hera with the drawn and activated lightsaber. His eyes grew large at the sight but he nodded to them both.

“Yes, lets go.” He said with a shaky voice, his mind racing and his body trying to catch up.

[imported_Callista]

Things were definitely beginning to heat up. As soon as bouncers went flying by hand of Hera, Callista knew she had to wake Marc and fast for it was clearly time to take a bow and exit.

At that familiar snap-hiss of a saber, a several gasps and curses were uttered followed by an immediate hush of the crowd as the blonde haired Force wielder gave forewarning. This was no trifle matter. Callista almost craved for some such simpleton to stand up to her, just to see the conflict unfold. But they were all too frozen with fear after witnessing such easy discard of the establishment’s muscles.

A movement in her lap brought her attention back to Marc. He was stirring, and for his own good, too. She would just as soon leave the man than drag his unconscious form. She rattled his shoulders slightly to help stimulate his body to gain full awareness. “Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up…we gotta go.” With that she pushed and pulled him up to his feet. Marcus wobbled and swayed a moment, but she managed to steady him, snaking one of his arms around her neck. Marc in tow, she heading towards the door.

Patrons that had risen from their seats to get a better view backed out of the way while others scooted chairs in, giving room for the pair to pass. She ventured a glance over her shoulder at Hera, hoping to see the woman close behind.

[DarthHERA]

Callista and a very unsteady Marc moved toward the door. That boy was gonna have one helluva headache later. The copious amounts of whiskey, coupled with the effects of the force power he had expended would produce an orchestra of hammers on the inside of his head. Hera didnt envy him.

She could tell Call was just itching for some fool to get in her way, but for all the free flowing alcohol in this place, the patrons were still not so stupid as to try it.

As they passed out the door, Hera grabbed a rotund fellow who was sitting bug-eyed and dumbstruck at a table by the exit.

She grabbed him up by his collar and stood him up.

"When we go out, if anyone comes out after us - youre the first person Im coming back for so I can seperate you from your innards. Got it?"

Chunky boy nodded and Hera noticed the saliva dribbling out of his trembling lips. Even so, he pulled out his blaster and held it in a shaking hand toward the general direction of the crowded bar.
She poked his tummy hard with her finger as a reminder which made the mans legs weaken, and then she disappeared out the door.

**********

Callista had not wasted anytime and had hailed a hovercab and was bundling Marc into the back of it. The drivers eyes started from his head as Hera emerged from the bar with her glowing saber in hand, but Callista had her dagger at the mans throat, so there was no choice for him to change his mind about taking their fare.
Hera deactivated her weapon and got in, giving Callista an appreciative nod and then named their destination.

Within moments, the cab was speeding to the "Waldorf" hotel and leaving the seedy bar far behind them,.

[Marc Tarkin]

It had all happened so fast that before he even knew it he found himself in a rented room at the hotel. The room he was in was separate from the one Callista and Hera now occupied. He was quite contently passed out on the bed, fully clothed, while they were in the adjoining bar/entertainment room of the suite doing whatever it was they were up to.

His body was more drained from the unexpected expenditure of ability that he didn’t even know he had that it was trying to fight the effects of the whiskey. But the alcohol certainly played a part in his current condition as he lie face down.

His ID, blaster and a DNA personalized Data-Pad lay on the night stand next to the bed as he slept in a dreamless state.

[imported_Callista]

Callista folded her arms and leaned her elbows atop the tall, round stand of a table, staring down the length to Hera, who was also perched on a lofty seat. They were in a bar…again. However, this bar was exceedingly superior to the one before. The upper class of the hotel occupied the tables instead of the city's scum.

She took a quick glance around her, placing the humans and aliens about the joint, then drew her eyes back to Hera. After such a showing at their first rendezvous point where they weren’t even capable of speaking, they would finally now be able to get down to business.

ShadowFaene business. Callista had been staying at the fortress for some time, watching the trade flow in and out, and she wanted in. Smuggling was a past business of hers; ShadowFaene would grant her privilege of working in the illegal operation again.

Hera knew what Callista wanted and no doubt had already thought it over, so there was no need to beat around the bush. She did, however, keep her voice below normal level. Being in a more respectable bar the conversation would no doubt draw attention. “You know I want in…to be contracted under ShadowFaene; work for you…smuggle…the whole nine yards...” She let her words trail off, waiting to see if Hera would jump in and offer her something.

[DarthHERA]

For Hera there was no question. No need to think about. If Callista wanted to turn her hand again to smuggling, ShadowFaene would be lucky to have her.

Everyone who contracted to ShadowFaene, worked for as much for themselves as they did for SFF. Any jobs that were not directly for SFF, but were individual hires, the Base only took a percentage of the contractors profit in return for their use of ShadowFaene ships, staff and resources.

Hera looked forward to working with Callista and she wanted her to know it.

"Its gonna be our pleasure to have ya, Call. Especially the runs we do with Daiq along." Laughing at the thought of all three of them working together, Hera drank her rum.

"I actually have something in mind that might be a good way for you to get back into things, but before we get to that.."
she grinned slyly..."Whats your take on sleeping beauty upstairs?"

[Marc Tarkin]

His rest was as it had been when he was first taken to this place. It was uninterrupted by dreams, or any form of restlessness. It was the hardest the member of what had once been the Imperial Army, now tattered and torn into its small parts, had ever experienced. His past was so full of hardships that he normally slept badly, dreams plaguing his slumber.

[imported_Callista]

The thought of working alongside Daiq and Hera brought a vocalized laugh from Callista. She had no doubt in her mind that the three of them together could find trouble on even the simplest assignment. That knowledge fathomed erased the slightest doubt that what she had decided was the right path. Joining ShadowFaene’s class was indeed her fated calling. …And she would enjoy every moment of it.

Hera’s noted confidence in her spread a toothy grin across Callista’s face. It didn’t surprise her one bit that Hera already had something cooking up and in the new employees sudden excitement she wanted to know exactly what it was. But then there was the pause…and the astute smile from the blonde haired beauty…

"What’s your take on sleeping beauty upstairs?"

Now how did she figure he would come into the conversation… With a somewhat disgusted look she reached for her cocktail and sipped from the straw, watching Hera all the while. A snug expression remained on the woman's face, as Callista seemed to just drag the inevitable. Setting the drink down she directed a warning finger towards her. “Now don’t you get any ideas.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, catching the smile that tugged on the corners of her lip. Hera knew. Callista had found the drunken chap to be slightly attractive…even if the alcohol had done most of the talking. “You saw his credentials…he’s an Imp.” She didn’t take too kindly to Imperial officers having had some not so friendly run-ins with them in previous years, but she was making excuses now. There was something different about him.

She shrugged and bent down to lazily sip from the straw. “An Imp with Force ability, which isn’t too surprising considering his sister, but an Imp nonetheless.” The Force aptness had largely caught her attention and she half wondered if perhaps she could get him to follow in his sister’s footsteps.

Hera still had that look written on her face… Callista lifted her head and eyed her a moment before cocking a brow and coyly adding a smile. “What are your thoughts on him?”

[DarthHERA]

Hera was all serious nodding and sage "hm, yes-ing" ...and Callista was falling for none of it. A rough shove from her friend made Hera laugh and ease up abit. It seemed obvious that there was more than just a passing interest where the young Tarkin was concerened, but Hera decided to not press the issue.

Instead she spoke of something that was a real concern.

"He has no idea the ability he has. You saw his face when he threw that tatooed scumbag across the room - he was as shocked as baldy was. That kind of potential should not be dismissed lightly, Callista. I wonder what his relationship is like with Dalethria...Ive never heard her mention him. Not to me, anyway."

Hera stirred her drink, pushing the rediculous little umbrella down to the bottom of the glass and pinning it there with the stirstick.

"He is dissillusioned with the military right now and is looking for direction. Seems to me, he could use the right kinda friends right now.."

She let the idea hang in the air, but her eyes were bearing directly at Callista.

She pushed the fruity drink away from her and got up to leave.

"I need to get back to Coruscant - got another "meeting" to keep.
Do me a favor and stay with lil brother tonight until he is fit again to leave in the morning."

She handed Call a card with SFF logo imbedded in it. On the card was a picture of Cyrus Haman and a breif credential outline.

"Meet Cyrus in 5 days time on Kuat. Wait for him at the "Sandor Clegane Inn." You will find that reservations will be waiting for you there. Cyrus will fill you in on the job you will do for ShadowFaene. You can bring Marc if he is at a loss as to where to go, or what to do. Just be sure he is definitely free of his Imperial Connections."

She smiled warmly and gave Callista's shoulder a squeeze.

"Its really great to see you again, Call. And welcome again to SFF. I'll be in touch."

As she left the table, she called back over her shoulder and grinned mischeivously at Callista. "Did you happen to notice he's got nice eyes?"

And then she was gone.

[Marc Tarkin]

Some time had passed, his body had rested better than it had in a long time, but still he remained sleeping. As he did, he began to toss and turn, not remaining in such a peaceful state.

He saw himself sit up and look around to see where he was, but the place did not look like the room he had fallen asleep in. Instead it looked like the command deck of the Executor. And just in front of him stood his grandfather, Grand Moff Tarkin.

Marc shook his head and blinked his eyes, yet the vision did not fade. His long dead grandfather was still standing there, but the old man’s head began to move from side to side, and his expression was one of disgust.

Moff Tarkin stopped and gazed directly into Marc’s eyes, his mouth opening slowly to speak.

”It is up to you Marc, there only of my family that still bears our name and has not disgraced it. You must bring our name the honor it deserves. You must spite those who have been responsible for the deaths of your ancestors. You must make the name synonymous with terror.....................as it should be!”

Marc watched and listened in disbelief. When his grandfather finished speaking, he started to answer, but even before he uttered the first syllable, the vision faded, being replaced by another. The inside of a lavish home was now the setting. It was a place Marc remembered well.

There was a girl’s voice, one he recognized immediately.

”Marc?”

The voice called out questioningly from another room.

[imported_Callista]

“Hah…hah, Hera….” The scowl that bore into the back of Hera’s head as she walked out immediately shifted to a conciliated grin once she was out of sight. He did indeed have nice eyes...

Laughing to herself she brought the little SFF imprinted ticket up to look at it, her thumb tracing the embossed emblem. Flipping the card over she noticed the picture of Cyrus Haman as Hera had pointed out.

Bald and somehow completely cocky looking…great. That actually wasn’t what vexed her…she had seen him someplace before. She knew she hadn’t met him, his face was just familiar… yet not enough to be placable, she soon realized after mulling it over in her brain a moment.

She sucked up the last of her fruit flavored drink, then stepped from the stool, stuffing the card in her jacket pocket. Kuat…5 days... Sandor Clegane Inn She filed the rendezvous point away in her mind as she wove her way back to the room.

----------------------------


Callista’s footfall stopped right in front of the door, her hand moving to the pad on the side of the frame. As she slid the key, her ears perked, having thought she heard something rustle on the inside. The hatch whooshed open and she took a stride inside. “Marc?” Poking her head around a corner she looked in on the dark lit room where his body still rested.

[Marc Tarkin]

Again he sat up suddenly, still unsure if this was dream or reality. this time however he was greeted with a sight that was more believable than the vision of his grandfather. He thought the silhouette and voice belonged to the voluptuous woman he had met earlier at the bar.

“Calista?”

He answered somewhat questioningly, not really sure exactly where he was or how he had gotten here. After he answered he began to look around. Doing all he could to recall this place, but having no luck.

“Are we still on G’rho?”

It was obvious this was a hotel room, but his question was the one that came to him first. Had they left the planet or just gone somewhere else. The last thing he remembered from earlier was…was...was, seeing the bald dude fly across the bar.

His hand rose to the sides of his head as the somewhat disturbing memory came back to him. It was starting to dawn on him that he had been responsible.

[imported_Callista]

The light from the adjacent room cast a halo around her body as she moved to prop her right shoulder up against the frame of the doorway. “Yes, we’re still on this filthy planet.” She tucked her arms casually across her bust line. “Although not for long. Get your stuff together, tiger.” Stalling at the door, she watched him a moment, considering his semi dazed state. Movement would help him regain his bearing.

Pitching her head to the side she leered then quietly turned and moved to the living area. Crossing the plush carpet, Callista lumbered to stand in front of large window that gave view of the city around them. Drawing back the curtain, she peered out at the cascade of bright lights that dared defy the caliginous backdrop of night.

She had a rendezvous in five days…what she was going to do till then was beyond her…and more importantly what she was going to do with the buck in the other room. Despite his validated allegiances he did give off a mass of confusion as if he didn’t quite know his place. And his sudden outburst back at the bar? That seemed to take him completely for a loop. She’d have to dabble in his life a bit, perchance steer him in the right direction; clear up the quandary. An ample grin washed over her face at the very idea…

[Marc Tarkin]

He nodded, trying to shake off the confusion from the events of earlier today. Right now he was in a very agreeable state. The confusion from what he had done, the anger at what the clone of his sister, who was using his sister’s true name, was doing to tarnish their prestigious name. And his own loss of a feeling of belonging to a greater cause with the split up of the Empire, along with the fact that this beautiful woman was seemingly paying him more attention than he had received from the opposite sex, was plenty to make him comply with her request.

He moved to the side of the bed and started to pick up his personal effects, placing them back in his pockets. As he put the last item away he stood and asked with nothing more than innocent curiosity.

“Do you have any idea where we are headed?”

Before she answered he scanned the room and rummaged through his pockets making sure he had not misplaced anything.

[imported_Callista]

We?

She had to laugh.

“Where do you need to go? I’ll be glad to drop you off.” She let those words hang in the air. Imagining the look on his face at that moment she grinned. She had admittedly shown favor towards him and could honestly say there was a slight attraction, but the fact was that Callista was known to flirt with just about every good looking male. And none of those had been for any other reason than for her own personal gain. Which, if she thought about it, Marcus would be the same. That is if he stuck around. If only to exploit his anger and power, she would let him tag along.

I’m sure I can persuade him…

She could take on this new challenge… Bring Marc to the darkside. It seemed to reverberate through her mind, instilling that she indeed needed to take and complete this task.

Turning from the viewport, she leaned her body against it and watched as he emerged from the room. “I have an appointment in five days. You’re welcome to come along if you don’t feel quite ready to jump back into the real world.” That was at least sincere. She needed the time with him. It was a must to drag out his past and any other information that would give her an edge in finding his breaking point. He seemed the type to outwardly remain calm and collected, but she was positive there was a hidden turmoil raging within, else he wouldn’t have been drinking at the bar.

[Marc Tarkin]

At first his expression, hidden by the shadows of low light in the room, was one of someone who had just consumed shoe leather. ”But she answered my question of ‘Are we still on G’rho?” with the response ‘Not for long.” and it sure seemed… The thoughts of his being presumptuous then analyzing whys and wherefores were racing through his mind at a million parsecs a second up until she spoke again.

He had been walking towards the door with his frazzled thoughts, but what she said next caught him totally off guard considering what had preceded it and he stopped in his tracks, trying to get his thoughts in order.

”… come along if you don’t feel quite ready to jump back into the real world.” She nailed that one right on the head. Ever since Bakura, with the news of his false sister’s allegiances and the split of the Empire, Marc had felt as if he was living in some kind of unreal dream. It had been a depressing and frustrating time, but since his chat with Hera and Callista, things were a little more interesting though the incident of what he did to the bald freak was still a complete mystery to him as it pertained to how and why.

What twenty-year-old male, with little experience having relations with the opposite sex could say no to her? Marc sure wasn’t one, as he confirmed by starting to walk towards the door again, exiting it and coming up behind her, looking less like he had feasted on his foot and more like he was up for some adventure.

“Then lets get off this rock.” He said with a smile and a wink. A wink that glistened with a hidden and repressed evil, not yet in the forefront of his mind.

[imported_Callista]

Callista blinked profoundly. Did he just wink at me? A sadistic grin tugged at her lips and she had to bite down on the insides of her cheek to keep it in check. This would be easier than she had first thought. Naive little twit…

Letting her arms drop, she pushed her shoulders from the window. “Let’s go.”

Having not brought anything with her, Callista walked the length of the room to the door, ready to depart right then and there. As she strode past Marcus, she purposely brushed her body against his, then reached a hand out to tap the pad on the side of the door. With a grin she gestured with her arm towards the now open exit. “After you…”

[Marc Tarkin]

She was toying with him, but he had no idea, and as such she could probably bend him to her whims easily with little effort.

His swallowed hard as she brushed against him, eyes remaining attentively upon her’s. When she asked him to exist first he nodded and started towards the door, asking as he stepped out into the hallway.

“I suspect you have a star craft planet side?”

As he asked he placed one hand in his jacket pocket, fumbling with the DNA sequenced device that could be used as a remote for his own.

[imported_Callista]

Callista stopped just as the door swished closed behind her. “Nope…I intend on walking.” She waited for him to turn around and look at her before letting out a small laugh and continuing forward. “Snake’s Eye, pad 241.” Either he was hoping to travel with her, or he was wondering if she needed a lift. She’d have to clarify that double meaning and let him know just what she wanted.

Striding to walk along side him she tilted her head to ask, “You have a ship of your own, do you intend on leaving the vehicle here?” She had no doubt that whatever vessel he came on was as richly high-tech as they came, but it could possibly be marked an Imperial allegiance and she wouldn’t have that messing up her appointment.

[Marc Tarkin]

“Yes, I do have a personal vessel here, but am able to have it follow or even send it elsewhere via remote.”

He pulled the pad from his pocket and placed a thumb on he recognition lens in its top right corner.

“Shall we travel together or separately?”

They arrived at the lift that would take them to a lower floor and Marc held the door open and motioned for her to enter first.

[imported_Callista]

Stepping inside she waited till he had entered and the doors locked in place before tapping the control board, sending them reeling downwards. “We’ll take mine…no need to waste the space,” she replied, her eyes fixed intently on the double doors in front of her. As they reopened seconds later, putting them directly across from the front desk to the hotel, she took a step out. The bill had already been paid, credits courtesy of Hera. Callista felt no need to checkout, immediately turning left and heading towards the exit.

Once outside, standing on the curb of the dimly lit street she waved an arm catching the attention of the nearest cab. It came from around the corner, zipping over in a hurry before any other could seize the fair. She took the opportunity to cast a glance behind her making sure Marcus had stuck close before climbing into the seat, sliding the entire way across to press her body against the opposite door.

The driver swiveled around in the front, leaning back to look at her, his deep set eyes barely visible through the extra folds of skin and fat. His oily raven hair somehow managed to pick up on and reflect the relatively nonexistent glow of a streetlight and it made her grimace in disgust. “Where to, sugah?” the hoarse voice queried with a smile and although impossible to really tell, she could have sworn there had been a supplementary wink.

Only when Marcus had clambered in beside her did she bother to answer, “Bay four, pad 241.” With a somewhat disgusted look directed towards the young Tarkin, the driver turned and sent the cab hurtling through the night.