Blood for Freedom

[Sin]

It had taken you a substantial amount of time to find, and dispose of the husk that now lay before yourself. A blackened body, broken and mute - his death had been quiet. Almost peaceful. How miserable must a life be to lay down at its end with nary a whimper. Oh there had been noises, brief, choked and distressingly pleased as you'd choked the remaining existence from the corpse.

Your former master. If such a word were ever appropriate for the failed terrorist. A twisted being who spoke flowery words and sweetness. Promises of power and control and taught his students just enough to lead them to a final and destructive end to further his goals. You glanced down at your own scarred skin, fingers curling and uncurling as you considered the path before yourself. You'd managed your revenge - but where would you go now? There was no life out there for one like you. No future returning to people who would never recognize or recall you, battered by fire and destruction as you had been. You could scant recall your own life before the end of it. Or its presumed end.

A hospital bed. An accusation of terrorism. A harrowing escape through a third story window to avoid the authorities. A realization of the betrayal of the one you had trusted. The only one you had trusted. He'd sent you to die. He'd sent you to be a martyr in a cause that only he believed in. Your hatred of this one, it had seen you through though, hadn't it? Your desire to watch the life leave his eyes. And yet it had been so... empty. You'd gained nothing from it. No. You'd gained your freedom. You were free. You were your own.

A grin spread wide across your lips, blistered as they stay and you tilted his face away to look upon it, now free from the mask he had worn. A mask. Perhaps you'd require one yourself now. There was no going home. There was no going back. All that lay before you was at your feet. He hadn't taught you much, but it had clearly been enough. He had called himself a Knight when he came to you so long ago. Taught you everything as his disciple and now you had surpassed him.

A dark echo lapped at your ear. A sweet caress of hatred. He had promised he would make you a Sith. It seemed this was the one promise he had kept.

"Sin." You whispered softly as you leaned over his shattered body. A title and a name he had lost all right to with this loss. Was that not the way you had been taught? The student surpasses the master. They were yours to take. And wasn't that just the most delicious final insult to this monster? To steal the only property that remained his? Yes.

You stood and stretched with a growing understanding of your future. You walked away from there with an electricity to your mind. Where would you go now? What darkness would you revel in moving forward? He had been too small in his thinking. Too focused on destruction, you knew better.

-- Three Months Later --

People kept their distance from you. That was probably for the best. Your tastes were unique, after all. Very few people enjoy the pain you like to give, or can offer the amount of pain you need to receive. The club around you continued to sway and move like a wounded animal, and you watched it like it were your job. You hadn't bothered to catch it's name on the way in, not that it particularly mattered. The waitress had been by twice to ask your drink, and you'd just smiled behind your leathery mask as she looked uncomfortable at your lack of an answer. She seemed sweet.

[Michael Cline]

It was one of the smaller clubs on Cloud City the Sun owned - Cline had stumbled upon it while going over some records and decided to make it his usual venture on his infrequent day off. Someplace he knew he could still have sway if he needed it, but far off the path enough he wasn't likely to be bothered or interrupted by work issues. It didn't attract the most impressive clientele for lack of a better term, but it was clean and better than some seedy dive. He was two drinks into a night of peaceful insobriety when Angessa walked over and stood nervously waiting to be addressed.

The waitress was pretty, though plain. Blonde, blue eyed and rather forgettable. Cline glanced at her before raising an eyebrow and finishing his drink in a swallow to turn and look at her, suddenly picking up on her nervousness and discomfort. Dren, how had he missed it to begin with? It roiled off her like an scent this close, even without him feeling it empathically it was all over her body language and stance.

"Angie. It's my day off. What?"

"W..well. I'm sorry, Mr. Cl-..." she caught herself. "Mike. Mike, I'm sorry."

Cline rolled his eyes, and followed by rolling his hand, urging her to continue.

"It's just, there's.. there's this customer. They're... I don't..." She pointed toward the masked individual, sitting casually, and far too relaxed in a corner booth and... staring.

Or napping. He actually couldn't tell what they were doing behind the mask. Which was even more out of place, since he was very certain that should have been against the Club's rules. How had they managed to get in here with. It hit him like water at his toes a moment later. The darkside pushing back against him, rather than coming from him. Dren. No. Not on his day off. "Okay so what, other than winning an award for creepiness, are they doing?"

"They... they won't order a drink." Saying it out loud her face blushed with embarrassment. It sounded silly out loud, but the club did have a strict 2 drink policy, and coupled with the anxiety Angie was feeling from being around them it made sense she'd come to him. It wasn't at a point she should really be raising the situation to the club's actual bouncers just yet, she probably thought Cline'd lean on them with a slightly more friendly tone than just throwing them out. He stood with a stretch and patted the anxious girl on the shoulder. "I'll talk to them."

He tried to look calm and collected as he strolled over and stood in front of the Sith. Oh it was absolutely a Sith. Now that he could get a good look at them in the dim light from up close they might as well have had a neon sign above them that said "Ask me about my Darth." Creepy mask, stupid robes, sitting all alone in a bar people watching and freaking every one out? Why were these types always so predictable. Still. Cline effected his best smile and hooked his thumbs into his pant pockets. "Hi friend." He said with a chipper tone. "We need to talk."

[Sin]

You'd watched the sweet girl walk over to the Orange boy. You'd see him narrow his eyes and felt him with the Force. He was like you. Like him. But was he like you or like him. You'd find out. He had walked over to talk to you. Told you that you and he would need to talk. You had leaned in at that, curious to what either of you had to talk about, rested your chin against your knuckles, elbows propped on the table as he spoke. Something about drinks. About not causing problems. About every rambling unimportant point someone could make. You'd hoped he'd be interesting, but he was boring. He was a suit. Just an employee, or an authority. Boring.

Through the din of the crowd you heard his question again, he was getting irritated.

"Do you even have any money?"

No. Of course you did not, at least not any you wanted to give to either him or this establishment. What a stupid question. You shrugged, feigning ignorance even as he sat a credit chit down on the table in front of you with a warning.

"Two drinks. Then out."

Oh, now he'd become interesting. A warning. A challenge. You had no intention of causing problems, intent to sit there and revel in the people around you until this assault on your seclusion. Your grin went from coy, to mischievous as you leaned forward more, back bending slightly to lean your face up toward his.

"Oh? Or what? Please, do - I pray - tell me what you're going to do? When I don't?" You pushed, just a little with the Force. All the intention of a schoolyard shove to the orange boy. You didn't actually want to cause a scene, but this was too delicious to avoid. Just to see what he'd do. Read him a little. See how quickly he folds or explodes. Was he a dud? You were ever so curious now. What a fun day this was.

[Michael Cline]

They looked like a bird. Some weird, creepy bird. Did they mass produce these masks somewhere or did Darkside types have them special ordered. The person leaned forward and peered at him, resting their head against their knuckles and he couldn't help but be certain that, yes, this was some sort of bird.

"Listen, friend, you're making the nice lady back there a little uncomfortable. I get that it's hard for your type not to do that - but... let's save ourselves the headache alright? You need to buy some drinks, have a nice time, don't cause anyone any trouble. You and I don't want to have problems, right?" Cline was left wondering if they even understood basic with how little of a response he was getting. Dren. Was that it? A language barrier? They were holding their emotions pretty tightly to themselves, damn near masked them as well as they did their face. But he was getting something, something... Oh frell this. Boredom? They were bored? So they probably did understand and just didn't care. He didn't need this. Not on his day off, not where what he was could be exposed in any way.

"Do you even have any money?"

And they shrugged. They actually shrugged. Coyness pressed back against the boredom now and Cline had about had enough of this absolute dren. He put a credit chit on the table, slid it over.

"Two drinks. Then out."

He held out his fingers to emphasize the point in the number two. Just in case there were any possible barrier. He wanted this one out of his sight and off Cloud City ASAP. There was absolutely no good that was going to come from them being here.

"Oh? Or what? Please, do - I pray - tell me what you're going to do? When I don't?"

His right heel snapped down as he steadied himself from the gentle force shove he'd been given. They hadn't raised their hands, hadn't needed to direct it visually. They'd just done it.

1. 2. 3. 4. Breathe. Breathe.

He had to steady himself, had to calm himself. He wanted to burn this stupid masked peon off the planet. Wanted to burn the whole club down around them to make a point. But that wasn't him anymore. Cline had overcome that side of himself, he wasn't the hotheaded kid anymore. 'You're a professional.' he reminded himself, even as he adjusted his tie and took a step forward.

There were two problems that he now recognized. The first is that this one, whatever they were, was crazy enough to have no concern for what trouble they caused here. And secondly that he'd felt something else behind that shove.

Power. Real and strong. This wasn't some kid playing, and while from the reckless attitude he wasn't sure they had experience, they absolutely were a step past him in terms of control and ability. He couldn't brute force his way through this. He took another breath and worked his neck, letting the tension leave slowly. He was a professional.

"Then we go to war and bring all the Empire's finest men knocking at the door. I don't want that. I really hope you don't either - so let's be friendly. I'm paying for your drinks, and asking you to find another bar."

[Sin]

You had to consider that request. The orange boy hadn't responded the way you'd expected. No explosion, but no backing down. Confident, restrained. Not like you, but also not like him. This one was their own. Good for them. Empire, Empire was a good point. Could be bad. You could always find a way to escape. You'd gotten good at escaping, but did you want to? It was still an early night. Still much enjoyment to be had if you wanted it. You considered giving him another shove, just a playful push but didn't. His home. His rules. You reached up slowly and patted his cheek with one gloved hand. A soft chuckle escaping.

"Fine. Fine. No problems. Two drinks."

Maybe you'd see if the sweet girl he seemed so worried about could be swayed to your bed later though. You wouldn't break her entirely if you did, but it would be funny to send her back a bit worse for wear. Maybe. A reminder that you'd been here, that you'd left willingly, and what it had cost him for you to do so. You leaned back into the booth swiping up the credit chit as you went to examine it. Probably wasn't much on it. You gave it a toss toward Orange boy and let him catch it.

"Tell her two Corellian Ale. Rest, if anything is there, is hers."

The tension sat in there air for just a moment, and you smirked, certain the boy didn't enjoy being used as a server before watching him stalk off frustrated. Nothing could spoil this night.

[Michael Cline]

Cline took the time while they tried to decide if they were a problem or not to size the masked and hooded Sith up.

Five foot something, lithe build, covered from head to two in green and brown wrappings and cloaks. He had been trying to pick anything up from their speech that gave him more on who they were. Any knowledge he could pick from them could be useful if they decided to be a real asshole about this. But there wasn't. As much as they basically screamed "I'M A DARKSIDER. COME ARREST ME" they were oddly indistinct past that. Dren, Cline could genuinely not tell if he were talking to a man or a woman either. The muffled voice behind the mask, with an odd whisper as if straining against their own throat didn't help him sort it out at all.

The gloved hand reaching up for him snapped him out of his thoughts and almost brought him racing for his blaster, but the intentions around them didn't seem violent, just... childlike? Was this all a game to them? A *pap pap* on your cheek and they spoke again.

"Fine. Fine. No problems. Two drinks."

Finally something rational, and just as quickly they demonstrated they were still an asshole despite that, as the credit chit were thrown in Cline's direction, the youth catching it in their palm.

"Tell her two Corellian Ale. Rest, if anything is there, is hers."

Cline fought the urge to sock the freak in the jaw. This was it then. They'd comply, but they were intent on getting the last word in. The last humiliation. Cline felt the urge to chew on his tongue to keep from responding, but finally walked away. It was his day off. He was going to enjoy his day off, and that meant getting this weirdo out of the club as quickly and calmly as possible. He sat the credit chit on Angie's tray when he got back to where she stand, waiting, and had to fight the growl in his voice.

"Two Corellian ale, and tell me if they hang around after that. I want them gone like a bad habit."

[Sin]

The rest of your evening in the club passed without incident. You'd drank your ale slowly, just to annoy the suit but eventually your people watching got less and less interesting as more and more people wound their way home content in their happy little lives and no one else ever presented themselves to you to make your night any more interesting. Sweet girl had ducked away just after taking your order and bringing your drinks. You'd laughed and laughed inside about it. Oh she was just too sweet. You'd have gotten a cavity.

Still the night had been fine. You'd annoyed some arrogant tie wearer and relaxed for long enough to feel pretty good. Maybe tomorrow you would try your hand at the Sabacc tables. You stood, giving an appropriately dramatic bow to your constant observer and stepped out and off of the busy pathways of Cloud City into its side paths and alleys, dim lights casting long shadows as you walked away from the crowds and toward the more secluded areas to consider your next location.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A shadow detached from the alleyway, and a woman with long black wavy hair interposed herself between the masked individual and whatever they had been walking toward.

Green eyes caught a bit of light as she tilted her head toward them. "You're shorter than I remember."

[Sin]

You hadn't even felt them. That was interesting. You'd felt the orange boy. You didn't feel the dark woman, which meant they were good. Very good. And that was bad. Very bad.

"You're shorter than I remember."

You didn't know her, you were very certain of that. So who then? Oh. Him. She was looking for him. Which meant you. Which meant your first instinct had been very right. This was very bad.

"You're less remembered than I remember."

You responded, trying to keep the tone playful and the atmosphere non-aggressive. You could bolt in an instant, maybe make it back to the street before they could get to you. But you hadn't felt them, which means you couldn't know they were alone. If you can't feel her, there could be more you can't feel. You let your eyes hit every corner, every shadow, strain to see or feel if it were just the two of you. If there were any possible traps in wait.

"You knew him I presume? And what lies did he tell you?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

This one speaks.

Lilaena raised an eyebrow. "He told me a lot of things. Concern for one young woman in particular - but I felt that he had ill intentions, no matter what his words were. When we parted ways I lost track of him. Until now."

She didn't move from her position in front of the masked person. "Apparently I still don't know where he is."

[Sin]

You relaxed. Just a little. Not a close friend. Not a long time associate. The dark woman could be lying though. He lied. They knew each other. Liars maybe know liars. You continued to watch her, carefully. She continued to watch you.

"He cared a lot about many. Said he did." You scoffed at that, a rasp to your tone. "Care for this one." You moved your hand to gesture at yourself. "Care for your one." You motioned at the woman. "Care for many before. Always so much care." Your eyes narrowed. "One must take care when handling explosives, after all." You felt yourself grind your teeth, the bitter hatred bite back into your throat, the darkside, delicious and warm around you in response. You raised your hand, watching to see if she would react. When she did not, you reached your other up to tug at your glove, slipping it away slowly, a finger at a time until your hand was free. It was as it always was. Marred by scars and burns.

"That man promised power. That man promised safety. That man loved only death. All others he sent to their end. Tic. Tic. Boom. I didn't even know I was holding a bomb. Told me to wait for him. He was my master, he would show me what I was. How to be what I should be. He showed me who he was, instead. Terrorist. Child killer."

You slid the glove back over your exposed flesh and flexed it a few times to pull the chill of exposed air off your damaged flesh. "I can tell you where he is. Or what remains of what I made him. If you still want his body." You kept your attention pinned to the woman as you spoke.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Anger surged inside her at the sight of the scars, at their words about who Sin had been, and how it confirmed her worst fears. And yet... she had still allowed him safe passage and left him to his own devices.

“I do not want his body. If you assure me he is dead, that is enough.” Lilaena hesitated. “Why have you dressed like him?”

Perhaps looking for who might be looking for HIM. And here I am.

She extended her senses further, trying to anticipate their next move.

[Sin]

You extended your arms in a bit of surprise looking over your wrappings, robes and giving your hood a small tug. "Have I?" You hadn't particularly thought of your appearance in that regard. It was a necessity to cover the extensive burns and damage from your time as his walking explosive. You had taken his name as well, though. Perhaps it had all been somewhat subconscious? A need to look like something familiar in light of no longer looking like yourself.

"The mask, the clothes. I am not... pleasant to view thanks to the scars. Easier to cover myself." As if recognizing an obvious follow up question you continued. "I took his name because he does not deserve to be remembered. I want nothing to be left of him. No trace he ever stained this universe. His name. His title. I suppose his look as well. They are mine by right. Mine by fire and mine by fight." You crossed your arms and regarded her now, the dark woman, she was no fan of his action you could tell. You could feel the hatred and anger flare when you had told her your story. Good. No one would miss him. But this left you with a conundrum now, didn't it? The dark woman had come looking for him and found you instead.

"And what of you? You know me as Sin, and I am pleased enough to continue by that name. What shall I call you?" First step first. IF she were not an enemy, then you could extend at least the appearance of politeness.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"You may call me Malleus."

Lilaena narrowed her eyes at "Sin" and took a step forward. "What is your plan now, since you have killed your former master? You are ... a loose end, to put it bluntly. I dislike loose ends. If you start unraveling you could make my life more difficult."

[Sin]

You followed her path, retreating a step as she moved forward, trying to keep the same amount of distance and not allow her to close the gap. "I'm a'frayed you'll just have to deal." You snarked in response. Malleus, as she called herself, was not like Him. He spoke much of his power, of his position. He had crumbled when faced with actual power, and you could already tell this Malleus had power in spades. Perhaps you had been too quick to read better intentions, or too hopeful. Enemy still, perhaps. The response had lingered on the air too longer and her persistence and insistence of your status wasn't going to be assuaged by clever wordplay.

"Now." You put bluntly, a tone of edge to your voice, and unwillingness to waver, even if you were to make an escape, "I live. For me. My master tried to destroy me. I survived. I flourished. I took his place." A growl deepened in your words now, anger flaring, temper raising in response to the threat. "I AM FREE." You snapped sharply, fingers twitching and itching to move. Vials, chemicals, compounds. All stored neatly within the layers of robes and fabrics you wore. Safe enough on their own. But with simple and basic mixing, even merely tossing them together to shatter on the ground and mingle in the air you could obscure senses. Sight, sound, smell. It wouldn't stop her. You knew it wouldn't. You could feel it wouldn't. But what of the crowd just behind you. The busy pathways of Cloud City. Could she catch you before you made it back to the public? Could she stop you before you could incite a riot? Last resort only. Last attempt only. Talk first.

"What do you want?" You hissed low, your body taught with anxious energy. "To ensure that I am not an end you want to end."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena did not smile, but she could feel one forming inside.

"I want you to be... free. As you are. Carrying his name with you may bring more attention your way, more people like yourself who are anxious to take their revenge.

"I understand the need to protect oneself from a mentor with bad intentions. Too often that is the way of things for people like us." She relaxed her stance, though she didn't back up or stand aside.

[Sin]

You blinked in surprise at that response. Not the answer you had expected, not an answer you'd have even hoped for. The dark woman, Malleus, was proving difficult to decipher. Still what she had said. What she claimed to want. You fought back the flicker of hope that you felt grow inside. You did not extinguish it, but it was guarded and contained. You would not be deceived again by another who spoke sweet words. Despite it though, you felt your neck crook at what she said at the end of that statement. A needle of curiosity pushing its way from within you until it forced a question.

"People. Like. Us." You spoke each word separately. Deliberately. It was a question without the words. It was a request to know from one survivor to someone who was purporting to be another. I told you mine. Now tell me yours. You didn't trust. You couldn't trust. But inside, deep in that place where everyone around you had always betrayed you, you wanted to. The caged bird of hope beat its wings a bit harder, and you fought to keep your guard up.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"My story is not one for an alleyway, told between strangers." Lilaena thought for a moment, and then produced a data slip with a secure commline programmed into it. Lifting it from her hand with the Force she floated it slowly toward the masked figure.

"If you need help in the future, call this number. I don't expect you to trust me - you don't know me. I don't know you. But if you call, I will come."

[Sin]

The long game. Malleus was playing the long game. Or she was telling the truth. You couldn't know for sure and you hated that uncertainty. That angry little fist in the pit of your stomach pleading with you that this time will be different. This one is different from him. Different from them. Anger warred with hope, expecting a lie but desiring the truth you snatched the slip from the air and brought it into your line of sight to inspect as not to drop your vision from the woman. No risks. No chances for betrayal.

"Do not expect my call." You offered truthfully. If you did not put yourself out you could not be hurt again. There was nothing you could not handle on your own. You had handled them. You had handled him. You had fled, and fought and survived it all.

"But I will keep this." You held it up with a slow nod before pocketing it. You kept your focus trained on her and took a step backward to test the waters, to see if she would allow you to leave or if she had more to say. "If we are finished?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"We are."

Lilaena stepped backward, back into the shadows. After a few moments Sin realized there was a doorway in the alley that she must have slipped through, because they were alone once more.

[Sin]

You watched her vanish back into the darkness she had arrived from. She was interesting and you were torn on wanting to know more of her and the story she held inside and simply being grateful to once more be rid of unexpected companionship. You palmed the data strip in your pocket and considered it for another moment. You would not actively seek her, but it could be handy to have such a life line in a worst case scenario. You stepped backwards out of the alleyway, intent on staying to the busier paths for a brief period. At least until you could feel confident in your own strength again.

For now at least you were still free and that was enough.