The Power of Premeditation (Xazor and Open)

(It was a sunny day on Chandrila, warm, with cotton candy clouds adrift in blue skies. A cool breeze blew in from the sea, as I sat at an outdoor cafe. I didn't normally conform to the habitat or the moment. Today, I indulged. A white fedora was drawn over my eyes, with a pastel jacket hung loose and comfortably over my shoulders. I finished the newspaper, setting it in a 'teepee' on the table, where my empty plate was. I paused, taking in the local charm of the place, before lighting a stim.

I'd sent Xazor a communique a week ago, requesting her company today. Hopefully, I wouldn't be disappointed. Smiling, I adjusted my sunglasses, smoke wisping from the end of my stim like a blowing lock of white hair. A silhouette approached from behind.)

Gaston, I'll have a pint of the pub draught. When my guest arrives, get her anything she wishes. I'm paying.

A bright figure made its way through groups of people gathered at the outdoor cafe on Chandrila. She wore a smile that exposed her elongated canines and they gleamed in the light of the beautiful day. As she walked, her white robes flowed gently behind her and made her appear that much more of a regal woman. In her long blonde hair were still the Garou Warrior braids but the golden coins had been exchanged for silver ones and a few of the braids had been brought up to form a wreath on top of her head. Atop those was a beautiful band that encircled her head, and from it dangled crystal jewels that she had found on a trip to Llum.

Several eyed her as she passed, letting their eyes come to rest upon the lightsaber on her left hip attached to her weapons belt. It's silver hilt with blue engravings caught the attention of many through her journey as a Jedi....for indeed, it was an incredible weapon given to her by a dear friend and Jedi Master. An array of throwing knives and three daggers hung from the belt as well, allowing her easy access. Then upon her right hip was her rail gun issued by the NR to all of their Military Officers, which she also was. On her back was an exquisite sword of silver with a black sheeth. The hilt rested beside her head, there for her whenever she needed the trusty weapon. Though the Garou carried these upon her and they were visible....she had a whole secret mass of weaponry below her robes....for she wore armor of incredible make, given to her by Helenias Q'Dunn. The robes were merely show, though....and she removed them when necessary.

It was quite warm and such layers made the Knight awefully hot, but she did not complain and instead, used the Force to cool her body temperature. The sun beat down upon her as her eyes searched the faces for the one who requested her company this day. Sanis Prent....a scounderal, last she knew. Of course, the Knight had only come in contact with him once or twice so she did not judge. Finally she spotted him and just as she was about to reach the table, a waiter stopped her, then asked for her order. She looked at others around them, trying to identify a familiar drink....for she did not wish to inconvenience him with something odd. Finally she spotted someone with what appeared to be a type of Ale and she smiled.

"I'll have a Garou Ale, if you have it...."

He nodded ever so slightly and then went to fill her order as she parted his presence and stopped short at the side of Sanis's table. Bowing as tradition and a sign of respect, the woman seated herself and smiled as she looked across at the man who hopefully had nothing up his sleeve this day. She was well prepared if he did.....if he tried anything she would well defend herself, by the will of the Force.

"Greetings Sanis, you called for me and so this beautiful day, I join you......"

Her voice was soft and floated to his ears like music from a Lyre or a Harp of old. Just as she spoke, her drink was set before her and the waiter departed once again, and she smiled with happiness from the depths of her soul. What a better day to enjoy a drink with someone whom she did not know well! Hopefully it would go as Xazor imagined.......

Good. I'm glad you came.

(I flitted away an accumulation of ash on the stim.)

You'll have to forgive me, I'm a paranoid man. I would appreciate it if you placed your weapons on the table.

Xazor placed her hand on her saber, something she naturally did now. She eyed him curiously and felt the urge to search his mind, for something just did not feel right about that request.

"Forgive me but I'm a paranoid woman and go no where without them.....my weapons are a part of me."

She said softly, then removed her hand from her saber and reached for her mug of Ale. It was an odd request.....she was a Jedi, she would never attack him for the sake of him not being of the light. It sat her wrong for the rest of the time and she took a sip of her drink to ease her mind.

"And even if I put my physical weapons on the table....it still would not be enough to put you at ease. I too am a weapon..."

This was no threat or anything of the sort, merely a fact. For one versed well in the Force, especially in the area of the mind, she was truthfully a weapon. Sighing, the Knight let her eyes drift to the Sea as an awkward silence consumed the area around them and the space between them.....

C-click

(I paused, flicking my stim away, and reaching for my pint. The sound from under the table was suspicious it should be. I normally don't ask twice.)

Then forgive my insurance policy, because I can't afford you the trust to treat you differently. We're both a bit between a rock and a hard place, and I don't want to be here any more than you do.

(What was generally known was that the hammer of some projectile weapon had been drawn. What only I knew was that I had a barrel of my shell gun positioned across my thigh, still slung in its loop holster. The hot barrel had an orange shell loaded, with a solid durasteel mass that achieved a muzzle velocity of hyperspeeds. I'd seen Sith Masters with more leeway of distance and a better position get bit by a shot like this. From point blank, and seated...it wasn't even debateable. Though, I hoped the mere action of the hammer draw would be enough. I don't like to fight when I don't get paid, and these rounds aren't cheap. I took a few notches off my pub draught, setting the pint aside with a smile.)

Don't worry...as I said...insurance.

(I tipped the brim of my fedora down a bit, to keep out sunlight that was emerging from behind a cloud)

There are some very influential people that wish all matters of creative harm to come to you, Miss Dawnstrider. I even hear your tongue has a bounty on it.

(I raised an eyebrow)

And quite a substantial one, at that.

The Knight placed her hand back upon her saber hilt and eyed him curiously. This was bad, just as she had expected. Sighing, she recalled her own weaponry....her armour. He had no knowledge of this and if he shot her, chances are, the bullet would be stuck before it ever reached her flesh. Even a shot from a blaster would be deflected back at the shooter. Smiling ever so slightly, she kept her eyes on him as her other free hand reached to her saber and began unclipping both sides from one another.

"Oh really? I'm sorry, but I don't give tongue nor anything else. These supposed people you are dealing with have a lack of intelligence, it seems."

She laughed to herself and a slight click was heard as both parts of the saber came apart. The Knight held one side in each hand....now possesing two sabers instead of one. She preferred the double saber, reversed grip style of fighting in a situation like this compared to her regular duel-phase double bladed way. The Garou smiled toothily, obviously not worried but endulging in the calm of the Force. All would be well and she would not die this day nor in the days to come. It was a shame that dear Sanis did not know this....but then again, with the company that he kept, he did not seem as intelligent as she had once thought him to be.

OOC: With mass and muzzle velocity at this range, even if the round was stopped, you're looking at enough displaced kinetics to cause a cascading series of trauma wounds. Keep this in mind, as your armor won't be able to prevent that effect.

IC:

Sit down, and shut up.

(I raised my voice slightly above conversation tone, gesturing back to her seat)

Its an insurance policy, because you are a hot-head, and you have no idea how to conduct yourself professionally. I'm not here to kill you if I don't have to. Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't waste my time sitting and smiling if that was my angle.

(I took another drink, licking the froth from my lips)

I've come here to discuss this matter with you. I think we can come to an understanding that works for both of us.

(I removed my shades, sliding them into my jacket pocket. My off-hand slid down to my belt, resting on a small device clipped there.)

We have something in common, in that we have no love for Sasseeri Reeouurra. With your help, I can lessen this burden on both our shoulders.

OOC: It's all good...just stating what I was wearing in great detail for the sake of writing. :) I didn't get up from my seat, BTW...but I'll play it out anyhow.

IC:

Xazor narrowed her eyes slightly and sat down in her seat, keeping her hands on her sabers for caution. He was quite cocky...but there was something about it that she liked. His personality was much the same as hers....though he did not appear to have difficulties with anger. She sighed and lowered her head as he spoke a painful truth of her.

"Hot-head? Perhaps I can easily become upset but I assure you it's only my nature...I do not choose to be this way."

She said softly, easing up the tension in her muscles a bit as she eyed him curiously. His words shocked her but only for a moment as he spoke of Sasseri Reeouurra....a Cizerack whom Xazor despised. Sighing, the Knight shifted her weight and came to rest her right elbow upon the table so that she sat at a slight angel to Sanis.

"You need my help? But how? Do you plan to....kill her?"

Now being she was a Lost Jedi and was already walking a fine line between Light and Dark...this seemed even more compromising....but then again....she never said that she would do it....

No, she's more a liability dead than alive. I can't risk upsetting a balance that currently works to my advantage. She sees me as a useful asset, and my interests are secure so long as that perception is maintained. There are others in her organization that I can't enjoy such amenities with.

(I took another drink, my trigger finger relaxing against the side of my weapon underneath the table.)

My plan is all about perceptions. She perceives you as a nuissance, and asks for an example to be made. I stand to profit from it, but I'm having disgruntled tendencies of late. There is a bounty of thirty thousand credits on your tongue. It sounds odd, but she has the credits, means, and ends to ask for things.

(I smiled a bit, thumbing through the menu that lay beside my plate)

When she gets what she wants, she'll be satisfied. She pays me, and I am satisfied. And if I were to make this as painless as a pin-prick, I'm sure even you would be satisfied...at least without worrying about bounties pending.

(Gaston returned, and I ordered a nice, medium rare Tattooine strip dewback steak, to compliment the dark draught. When he left, I returned my attention to Xazor.)

Are you familiar with spaarti technology?

Xazor narrowed her eyes as she set her gaze upon Sanis. She did not like the sounds of this at all and would surely not fall for what he was asking.

"No, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with it...please, tell me of this technology."

She said softly, still a bit confused as to what he was leaning towards. No matter, though....she would go with this as long as it did not involve the removal of....tongues....

(So not only was she apt to fly off the handle, but she was a bit on the historically-obtuse side as well. It boggled the mind that somebody could be a Jedi without knowing the basics)

Spaarti technology was adapted from Kaminoan cloning facilities, and used in the Old Republic and early Empire, and was later put to use by Grand Admiral Thrawn. With a spaarti device, you can take a tissue sample, and replicate a whole clone...or even part of one, if you so desired.

They're not easy to find these days, especially not since the New Republic has made so much headway in the war. But...I have my sources. You give me a blood sample...I use the cyllinder.

(My smile widened)

And all our mutual problems go away.

Xazor smiled slightly, eyeing Sanis for a moment. She had heard of this....but her memories had been erased once and with them, this had gone as well. So indeed...she knew the basics....but had to remember them.

"So you will make a...clone, of my tongue, so to speak. I like this idea....I agree."

She said softly, glad that finally something was being done to make her problems go away....and his as well.

"So this will be as painless as a pin-prick? Just a blood sample...and nothing more? Will you not be able to use this blood against me though? I know how your kind work...I can work that way as well, Mr. Prent..."

She growled slightly, tensing upon her sabers once again at the thought of this deal being shady in the slightest...

OOC: Xazor, no need to defend yourself so dilligently. Its idle thoughts. Criticism okay. Relax good.

IC:

(I winced, making a pained face)

Xazor, you break my heart. And to think, I thought this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Don't worry, you can supervise the process if you want. I'll be a good boy.

(I reached into my pocket, pulling out a jacketed hypodermic recepticle. With a smirk, I set it on the table)

You wanna do the honors, or should I ask you to say "Ah"?

She wasn't sure why she was still here. After all, Pierce was no longer on Chandrila. But there was always business for her, something that had to be taken care of.

The woman drew the hood of her dark blue cloak down, letting her dark hair blow in the warm breeze. There was a bar here, more of a speakeasy than a true bar, and down the street there was a quaint looking outdoor cafe. De'Ville stood still on the sidewalk a moment, and then walked on towards the cafe. Cheap bars were a dime a dozen, and she'd been in more than her share of them in the past.

Her hand was idly playing with a sabacc card, an illegal skifter that she'd lifted from a shady dealer, as she neared the cafe, and she scanned the patrons before asking to be seated. There. She had felt a familiar presence, and indeed, there was one.

And it must have been her lucky day, for she also recognized his female companion. De'Ville approached their table, walking in behind Xazor Magus, or whatever she was calling herself these days. She had run across the padawan's files while perusing the Jedi Order's datafiles a year ago. Perhaps she had already been promoted, as she was allowed outside to play by herself now.

De'Ville caught the last sentances of their conversation as she approached. "Will you not be able to use this blood against me though? I know how your kind work...I can work that way as well, Mr. Prent..."

"Xazor, you break my heart. And to think, I thought this was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Don't worry, you can supervise the process if you want. I'll be a good boy. You wanna do the honors, or should I ask you to say 'Ah'?" De'Ville caught sight of a small recepticle, and her brow raised.

"Mr. Prent, I must admit, I did not expect to see you here." De'Ville stood directly behind the Jedi, her right hand concealed inside her robes, and practically touching the back of Xazor's head with her stomach she was so close. "Business, Mr. Prent? I hope I am not interrupting anything ...important."

ooc: I am just replying as she would speak, nothing more. I'm perfectly relaxed...but Xaz is high strung lately (she's pregnant too, remember? :lol)

ic:


Xazor looked down at the little device and she sighed to herself. Looking up at him, she opened her mouth and then suddenly shut it at the sound of a feminine voice. Her hands tightened upon her saber hilts as she closed her eyes and felt the presence of....a Darksider...standing directly behind her, nearly touching her head. Sighing, the Knight opened her eyes and smiled, turning a bit to see one that shocked her....Lilaena De'Ville! Marcus had often spoken of her....and with the Knight's recent operations with The Lost Jedi....she had become quite familiar with the profile of this Dark Jedi. The Knight decided it was rude of her to remain sitting, so she stood and bowed slightly.

"Greetings Master De'Ville...."

She stated softly, acknowledging her rank fully and with reverance. Indeed, she was a Dark Jedi...but still, she was a Jedi in part in Xazor's eyes. Their ways were similar in some aspects, yet different in many others. Xazor sat back down and eyed Sanis for a moment, wondering if she should go through with the 'procedure' now....or when the Dark Jedi left. It was becomming an odd situation.....and she knew that the Darksider did not think to fondly of the Garou woman.

(My poker face was unflinching. Inside, I racked my brain for the necessary curse word to express my mood. They likely hadn't invented it yet. De'Ville. A pity she wasn't dead, or similarly inconvenienced. She'd taken some past business personally, and that annoyed me. Of course, I'd put the proverbial gun to her head, but it was a professional venture.)

Miss De'Ville, to be honest, I was expecting you to be a bit under the weather. I'm a bit busy at the moment, but I'm sure that I can find some time later today to talk with you, your health permitting.

(I turned back to Xazor, hoping that the Dark Jedi wasn't so obtuse as to not get the hint, or at least hadn't become desperate enough to be rude.)

As I was saying...

De'Ville smiled, sweetly, making sure her expression was underlined with a little bit of bitterness. "Of course, Mr. Prent. It was just that I came across something that might prove interesting to you. Your precious time permitting."

She nodded to Dawnstrider, "I am sure we shall meet again, Jedi." The statement was puncuated by a hard stare, and then De'Ville turned her back on them both, and took a seat at a table a few yards away. Her left hand was in a pocket of her jumpsuit, fingering something smallish and rounded. Just you wait, Sanis.

Xazor did not know what this little....interruption....was about, but she paid it no mind and smiled thoughtfully at Sanis.

"Like I was saying, I'll take care of it....."

She said softly and then took the Hypodermic Recepticle in her hand. Xazor did not like needles much and this one looked a little thick to be merely drawing DNA samples. She sighed to herself and turned away from the others...and away from the crowd, then opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. The Garou shoved the needle into the flesh and quickly drew the blood, then removed it and turned to face Sanis with a healthy amount in the vile.

"Hope that's enough for you.....and I hope that she leaves both of us alone now."

She smiled, though the pin prick had felt like one hundred pin pricks. Sighing, she blocked the pain from her mind and sat back, taking a sip of her drink once again....



ooc: I'm so terribly sorry it's taken me forever to get here. Honestly between my schedule and then my incessent forgetfulness....it got pushed to the wayside. Sorry again guys....I'll keep up on it now by subscribing to it. :)

(Unscrewing the needle, I tossed it away, capping the recepticle and dropping it into a plastic baggy.)

That'll do just fine.

(It amazed me how willingly she'd gone along with it, considering my reputation. If I were in the same position, I would have at least insisted on using a different syringe, but whats done is done. I pocketed the baggy.)

Been a pleasure doing business with you, and if you happen to contract any undue, genetically-engineered illnesses within the next 72 hours...

(She tensed but a moment, and I smiled)

...a joke.

(Rising from my seat, I paid my bill and gratuity)

At any rate, hope we're both through with messy involvements. See you around.

Xazor looked at him curiously and as he walked away, her eyes trailed him.

"Let me know how things go.....thanks....I think....."

She mummbled to herself. Sighing, the Knight rose from her seat and she too left. What a curious meeting indeed......I hope he was joking.... She thought to herself as she made her way back to the Jedi Base....