Meeting Death's Shadow

[James Prent]

James pulled her robes around her, trying to keep out the wind as she hustled to the waiting taxi. Her parents were watching from their window, seven levels up, and waving. She waved back, although she could barely see them. Laana and Hie Prent were good people. Not her natural parents, as she'd been adopted, but the only parents she'd ever known.

It was good to visit them. James slammed the speeder door shut to the consternation of the driver, and directed him to the Jedi Order.

"That's four sectors over!" He growled to the rearward mirror.

"I'm well aware of that, but I have to get back tonight." The diminutive padawan tried to fix her hair as the driver harumphed and pulled the speeder up into the airlanes. It was a long trip, almost an hour, but it gave her time to think. She'd been at the Jedi Order for a year now, and had learned many things. The components for a lightsaber were jumbled about on the table in her room, waiting for her to find the time to put them together.

So much had changed about her. It was good to come home and find that her family was still the same. Laana, her mother, had expressed gratitude that the padawan robes covered her up modestly, and her father had just grinned and tugged on the new padawan braid. Dinner had been delicious, but also a few hours ago. They were proud of her, proud of the step she'd been able to take in joining the prestigious Jedi Order.

James' hand went self consciously to the braid now, tucking it behind her right ear. She leaned against the door of the speeder, and closed her eyes for a moment. She didn't want to be a disappointment to them. What if she failed her knight trials? What if her master never deemed her ready?

But fear was of the Dark side. James opened her eyes, and looked out the window. "Ah, wait, stop here, I've changed my mind."

"What, right here?" The driver looked around, and the speeder dove down to the nearest pedwalk.

"Yeah, gotta get some food in me. Thanks." James handed him a credit chit for a bit more than the correct amount, and hopped out of the cab onto the wind blown pedwalk. The blinking neon lights of an all-night diner greeted her eyes, and she dashed for the refuge it offered against the weather.

A bell pinged as she let herself in, and James took a moment to straighten her tunic before looking for a booth to sit at. The hour was late, and there were only a few beings inside. The tired looking waitress looked her way before turning back to the counter and chatting with the cook.

James found a seat, and propped up a menu, taking a cursory glance over the grease filled entrees. She used to work at a place like this. The food was usually good, as long as you didn't order the steak. Never order the steak at a twenty-four hour diner.

[imported_J'ktal Anajii]

Why could diners never do steak right? That's all he wanted. Just a good steak at a fair price, but it was beyond his grasp. J'ktal had visited four other restaurants that night in search of a good steak, and it absolutely eluded him. Perhaps a night spent over thr grill in his room at the Living Quarters wouln't have been so bad after all.

At least not as bad as his steak was.

The mashed potatoes, though a far cry from any form of freshly prepared vegetable, at least sated his hunger, and the green beans were fortunate enough to have come from a can instead of being freeze-dried. About the only true luxury to his dinner was a glass of decent ale, which sat half-empty in front of him, the head slowly dissipating.

J'ktal was about to finish it and leave when a young woman walked in. It wasn't that he was suddenly attracted to her, or that he wished to speak with her, it was simply bad manners to leave just after someone else entered. It didn't allow the staff proper time to adjust to the change. The gray mongoose pushed the slab of meat away from his potatoes on his plate with his knife, and set about loading up a forkful and eating it neatly. One of his manners often stuck out in so middle-class an establishment, but he didn't care that night. He was hungry, and not about to try and find a sixth restaurant to be served a poor excuse for a steak at.

As he sipped his ale, J'ktal looked closer at the young woman. She appeared familiar somehow, though he couldn't see her braid to identify where he knew her from. Passing it off as merely mistaken identity, J'ktal returned to his less than appetizing meal.

[James Prent]

James looked up as the waitress approached, the typical tired smile in place. As she placed a glass of ice water on the table the padawan smiled sympathetically. "Slow night?"

"Ah, the worst." The nametag proclaimed her to be 'Susi,' and the middle aged humanoid smiled warmly at James. "What can I get for you, miss?"

"I'll have the nerf and cheese omlette, and a glass of orange juice please." James folded up the menu and stuck it behind a sticky condiment rack by the window.

Susi jotted down a note or two, and smiled, "I'll get your orange juice. Be a few minutes on the omlette though."

"No rush." James ran her hands through her short hair, trying to fix whatever it was the wind had done to it. Her padawan braid dropped in front of her ear once more, and she sighed. This was going to require a mirror.

She wasn't wearing the short tunic and leggings that she trained in, but rather a longer robe in a wrap-around style. It was beige with green embroidered trim on the sleeves and hems. The obi was green as well, and it had been a birthday gift from her mother, who had done all the detailing herself. It had seemed like a good idea to wear it home, so Mom could see what it looked like.

It was too formal looking for her everyday life, however. And she felt overdressed here in the diner. James pushed herself out of the booth and made for the restroom, passing one of the other patrons of the diner as she did so. It wasn't often one saw a Nehantite on Coruscant, but she knew of the species.

She didn't stare, that wouldn't be right. Plus, on her way back to her seat she'd be able to discreetly get another look at him. James pulled open the door to the restroom and let it close behind her as she looked in the mirror, trying to fix her hair.

The bell on the front door pinged as more people entered. James licked her fingers and tried to flatten a rogue strand.

[imported_J'ktal Anajii]

It was impossible. Eating a steak so poorly cooked, and so cheap of quality to begin with just could not be done by J'ktal. In the back of his mind, he hoped the strawberry cheesecake he ordered for desert would be rich and thick enogugh to drown out all the bland, unappetizing flavors he had choked down so far.

But it had not yet arrived, so he simply waited and finished off his ale. The young woman caught his eye once more as she made her way to the ladies room, and it was then that he caught sight of the braid. A Padawan, that was how he knew her. Though her name eluded him, the puzzle piece fell into place.

The obnoxious chime of the door broke his train of thought, and the gray mongoose glanced back to take a look at those entering, jsut out of curiosity. He could tell it before it would happen, he knew what they were there for. They way they walked, the way one of them held his jacket closed, and how their eyes examined the patrons and the windows and doors. Had they been holding up signs and using bullhorns, theit intentions could not have been more clear to the Death-Shadow. Still, there were only five, and they were young and only decently experienced as far as he could tell. Otherwise they would have known better than to rob a diner. Robbing an elctronics store would have been far more profitable at that time of night.

His mind was clinking and whirring, turning over various situations as he watched them out of the corner of his eye while pretending to cut his putrid steak. Of course, they would have to make the first move. It would be unethical, as well as disheartening to stop a group of robbers before they got to announce themselves.

[James Prent]

The tired waitress hurried up to the newcomers as they entered. "It's seat yourself after nine, fellas. Help yourselves."

A young one in the back nearest the door jerked slightly as she said it, and the tall one in a dark nerfhide jacket sniggered, pulling out a blaster from beneath his coat. "Right, help ourselves. Don't mind if we do." Susi shrieked, unable to help herself.

They were all human, mostly all cocky, and definetely desperate. The youngest one looked about one fix away from death, and scared as hell. The older one pointed the blaster around the room, like some bad holomovie. "If anyone moves, this nice lady gets shot between the eyes!" Susi wilted a bit at those words.

He sniggered, "Now my boys are going to come around and collect your wallets. Be good now, and give 'em. We don't want you t' cause trouble." There were only three patrons in the diner. Three patrons and a booth with a glass of water.

One thug had run into the kitchen, and was holding a butcher knife on the cook. The other three went to the three patrons. The first two men gave up their money without much fuss, while the other, the young one...he walked towards a grey furred alien sitting by himself.

"Give it up!" The trembling kid shouted at J'ktal, who seemed to be studying him. The alien looked like he was looking through him. He was giving the tripped out kid another trip with those cool eyes of his. "Hey, are you deaf?" A hand dipped into a pocket, and a nasty looking vibroblade came out.


James pushed open the bathroom door and stepped out, walking a good five steps before the padawan realized something was terribly wrong. She looked at the Nehantite, and then to her left at a pale skinned, sweaty guy holding a vibroblade. James, you need to hone your survival skills.

The kid was in his twenties, and surprisingly quick. Wiry arms grabbed James, and she felt a breath of air as the humming blade was held close to her neck. His attention was still on the steely gaze of the Nehantite, and James' hands went to her belt...

...but no lightsaber. Frell.

She took a deep breath, her mind withdrawing from the yelling that was all around her, and dipping into the Force. When the opportunity came to make a move to get out of this mess, hopefully she'd be ready. The tiny padawan met the eyes of the Nehantite, and she found herself raising an eyebrow, as if to say "Okay, now what?"

[imported_J'ktal Anajii]

Rookies. Oh, it was painful to watch them work, so unskilled at their new profession, so many holes in their defenses. It was difficult not to laugh.

And J'ktal didn't laugh, instead he simply let his muzzle turn up at the corners in a very faint smile, one that was more evident in the sparkle of his cold, pink eyes than on the angle of his lips. His paws retreated to his lap as he spoke, "And what makes you think I care about her?" his voice was terribly honest, and one of his paws, his left one, returned to his plate, pickign up his fork and loading another bite of mashed potatoes. "And I do not have any money. I spent it on what this establishment calls a steak. Open their cashbox and I am sure you will five my twelve credits there."

The kid wasn't sure what to make of this furry alien. He seemed so absolutely certain that he wasn't in danger, and that the gang wouldn't touch him. It was unnerving, and the craving in the kid's blood for another fix wasn't helping any either.

As if waiting for the kid to do something, J'ktal looked at hima gain, and used his loaded fork as a gesturing device. "Well, if you're going to kill her, then kill her. Like I said, it is a rather hollow threat to me if you hold her like that. After all, she isn't terribly beautiful, not to mention a little scrawny, and you have a small needle sticking from your leg that if not quickly removed will cause paralysis. You humans have such a simply alteres physiology."

It was true, while he was speaking, J'ktal has pulled a needle from his belt and snapped it from his paw into the man's leg. It wouldn't kill him, but it would freeze him up badly if the poision were allowed to spread, and then his body would feel as if it were on fire for several hours. Such lovely concoctions the fellows at the Laboratory came up with these days.

By then, J'ktal had the attention of the others in the diner, and he knew that he would have to act wisely if he wished to avoid getting someone innocent hurt or killed. The robbers he cared little about, and had James not been a Padawan herself, he would think little about killing the lot of them. Though he was still learning telepathy, he tried to send a message to James, "Lean back into him, it will knock him off balance, and push the hand with the knife away from your throat. I will take care of the rest."

Normally a Nehantite would have been incapable of sending such a message, but as the result of more than one brain operation, J'ktal found that he posessed the ability the rest of his race was denied.

[James Prent]

Her head buzzed for a moment, and she blinked, suddenly understanding what the mongoose wanted her to do. Was he a Jedi? The vibroblade hummed silently, even one touch to her skin would be enough to slice her throat open.

Mustering herself, James dug her feet into the ground and threw herself backwards into the junkie. He stumbled backwards as she put her hands up and grabbed his wrist, pushing the dangerous blade away from her. With a quick twist she turned his wrist backwards, causing him to drop the knife and fall to his knees.

[imported_J'ktal Anajii]

In a heartbeat J'ktal was up from his chair and leaping across his table. Landing a hard kick to the young man's head, he laid him out flat on the floor before spinning and firing off a handgun he had drawn in his leap.

The shot caught the man standing next to the leader in the chest. He dropped like a rock, and that was enough time for J'ktal to grab his lightsaber from his belt and toss it to James. "Take it!" he called to her, dropping a bead on the ringleader, his aim unwavering. His lightsaber reeked of the Dark Side, as it had been taken from the hand of dead sith. When activated, the blade burned deep red, but it oddly suited the black-clad and nasty-tempered mongoose. If James didn't know who he was, odds were that she would get the wrong impression, and he knew it. That was what made things interesting in life.

Pacing forward, his gun leveled at the ringleader's head, he shook his own and said, "Drop the blaster, you do not know what you are doing. Your friend will need medical attention soon, or he will die. If you leave now, you will have time enough to get him the care ne needs. I estimate he has five minutes before his lungs start to fill with blood." His voice was absolutely devoid of care, as if he were reciting a science book, and his posture screamed of professionalism. Susi and the cook were still held in jeopardy of their life, but J'ktal knew how to handle hostage situations. You make the hostage worthless in the eyes of the holder.

[James Prent]

James fumbled as she caught the lightsaber pommel, getting it straight in her hands momentarily. She stood to her feet, carefully thumbing the blade to life with a satisfying snap-hiss. It felt...odd. Tainted somehow.

The blood red blade lit up the room with an eerie light, and she made herself look tougher than she felt, keeping her eyes locked on the two others. The Nehantite seemed able to take care of business, which was refreshing. James looked down, and kicked the vibroblade handle, sending it skittering under the booth and away from the junkie's fingers.

"Drop the blaster, you do not know what you are doing. Your friend will need medical attention soon, or he will die. If you leave now, you will have time enough to get him the care ne needs. I estimate he has five minutes before his lungs start to fill with blood."

She looked up at his words, saw the man on the ground and realized he'd been shot. Then she looked down at the lightsaber in her hands, and noticed that everyone in the room was staring at her. Time to take charge of the situation, eh? Why do Jedi have to be so damn heroic? "I'd do what he says, if I were you."

They have no idea how true that is. James kept the fear out of her eyes, and instead pointed the tip of the blade at the thugs.

[imported_J'ktal Anajii]

"I'll frelling shoot her!" the ringleader shouted, his eyes betraying the fear in his heart as J'ktal inched slowly colser. He held Susi tight, the muzzle of his blaster buried in her neck.

"If you do, I will kill you," J'ktal replied matter-of-factly, watching the others out of the corner of his eye. "So there really is nothing to gain by shooting her, now is there. If she dies, then this world will be short one waitress. Who would miss her?"

He was now only ten feet away from the head man, and his gun remained fixed on the theif's forehead. "And as far as the cook goes, he grills one of the worst steaks I have ever tasted, so killing him would be doing the world a favor."

While he spoke, one of the others was trying to sneak up on him, and J'ktal let him do so. Springing from the sidelines, the man leapt at J'ktal, but would up being grabbed by the arm and flipped over. Once the assailant was on the his knees to J'ktal's other side, the mongoose held up the arm he still ahd a grip on and dealt several nasty kicks to the man's ribs and head before letting him drop like a sack of potatoes. "That's three down, leaving only yourself and your buddy in the kitchen. Two minutes left before Captain Chest Wound back there starts to drown in his own blood," the Death-Shadow said, a wicked smile on his face as he came closer, until he pressed the handgun right up against the leader's forehead and started to push him down. "And sixty seconds before I pull this trigger and you become modern art on the tile foor, here. Now, give me your wallet, and things will be nice and easy. I do not want any trouble here, just your money."

It was a strange twist on the original situation, but while J'ktal had been so focused on the head man, he had neglected the one in the kitchen, and when he glanced up, the man was no longer there. It would be up to James to deal with that one should there be any trouble.

[James Prent]

James was already running into the kitchen, and found the cook sitting on the ground rubbing his throat. He pointed wordlessly to the back door, and she disengaged the 'saber as she pulled it open. "Hey!" Her voice sounded small as she shouted after the retreating figure. "Stop!"

He wasn't stopping, and had reached the end of the alleyway. James ran after him. She had shorter legs, perhaps, but had trained as a long distance runner in her school days and still ran several miles every morning. Long after he got winded, she would still be able to run.

Her long robes hindered her, and she grabbed them with her left hand and hiked them up, freeing her legs. James rounded the corner of the building, and caught sight of the thug once more, trying to duck into a bar. She dashed towards him and he caught sight of her, changed his mind about the bar, and took off running again.