Lightside Sith 016

“Chuba.” Jabba said with childish glee. 

Kaine had heard that word enough times to know it meant ‘again.’ 

Raising his lightsaber high, he rammed it into a solid gold bust of some ancient Hutt, and with a flick of his wrist, he cut it in two. The twin pieces were glowing orange-red, and still hot to the touch as Jabba began clapping like some kid who had seen a magic trick. 

All around the throne room were bisected objects that Jabba's minions had grabbed from somewhere in the palace. Even two halves of a hovercar were resting in the central area. Where people would ordinarily be mingling, or dancing, Kaine had transformed the area into a trash heap. At first, he had suggested he liven up the party with a few lightsaber feats, and that had quickly morphed into seeing just what he could cut through. So far, pretty much everything in Jabba's arsenal was easily bisected. The only thing that could resist the burning beam of red plasma was a personal shield, and a vibroknife that had trace amounts of kortosis manufactured into the blade. 

Of course, Kaine couldn't let these gangsters think they were safe from a Sith, and the guy who had been smugly hiding behind the personal shield-and was even pointing at him, laughing-was now curled up in a ball as [Inflict Pain] made him experience something no drug or saw blade could. An attack to the soul. The Force was bullshit like that. 

As for the vibroblade? Glancing over his shoulder at the smouldering remains of that piece of debris…let's just say he let his inner berserker out for a moment to prove a point. 

Needless to say, after that explosive duel against the Jedi, his street cred amongst the gangsters, mercs, dancers, representatives, politicians, and other hangers on attending Jabba's birthday was through the roof. Half the people-those guests who leaned towards the Republic or had Republic leanings were in fear-whilst the more neutral ones or pro-CIS oriented people were in awe. 

Although it was kind of boring, redundant, and over the top, impressing all of these people with his feats of strength reinforced his persona as a capable Sith, and naturally netted him some sweet sweet LP. 

Currently he was sitting at a nice 1,102LP, a little more than a fourth of the way to becoming a Sith Lord (low). It'd only been three weeks since his arrival into the Star Wars galaxy, and he was making fast progress. 

“The Grand Jabba thanks you for your superb performance, and has decided to double your reward. He hopes that you can attend the next Boonta Eve Classic as a guest of honor.” Bib Fortuna spoke up, translating for the great big slug. 

“I will try to attend, but some Jedi might just try to hold me back.” Kaine half joked, half said seriously, waving his blade left and right, before deactivating it, and placing it at his belt. 

“Oh hoh hoh!” Jabba laughed, and then nodded at him in dismissal. 

Bib stepped forward, then held out a dataslate. “The promised reward.” 

Kaine took out a chip of his own-no larger than a credit card-and accepted one million credits. For a second there, he felt like Dr. Evil from the Austin Powers movies, and wanted to place his pinky on his lower lip. The buying power of a credit was much higher than that of a dollar. A brand new x-wing cost about 150,000 creds, or a stock YT-1300 freighter-the Millennium Falcon-without mods cost 25,000 creds. In context, a moisture farmer might be expected to make 40,000 credits annually. So all things considered, he had made out like a bandit! 

Upon leaving the dais, various people stopped to talk with him, and he devoted a few minutes here and there to shmooze, exchange contact information, and give empty promises. Many people wanted to be close to a prominent figure from the CIS, and quite a few of them not-so-subtly promised him a whole lot of mula if he could get them Dooku's ear. He mostly took their words to heart, but there were a few businessmen who said they were on Republic held worlds, and wouldn't mind colluding with the CIS if it meant a promotion. Now these people could be used! 

For those traitors, or Confederate sympathizers, Kaine bookmarked their names in his contacts, saved their pictures, and took a little note. Few though there were, they were rife for either blackmail or collaboration. If Kaine could use these contacts to successfully take a planet, then that would be just the capital that he needed to gain some freedom. Acting as Dooku's hitman and errand boy was completely bogus. Deciding which targets to hit, or objectives to accomplish on his own was where it was at! 

After about a half hour of this, Kaine had made his way to the back of the room where the mercs and bounty hunters mingled away from the wealthy businessmen or politicians. Although everyone here was invited to Jabba's birthday, there was a difference in social class & circles, so typically these two groups didn't meet in public. 

Walking up to a table, there was a hulking alien dressed in all silver armor. As tall as a professional basketball player, and jacked like a body builder, Durge was sipping on something through a straw, his expression unreadable through his mask. No one sat near him, and the man was entirely quiet, save for the slurping sound made from his drink. Funny enough, despite sitting in the darkest area, his bright silver armor, and imposing height made him stand out like a sore thumb. Looking like something mixed from Shredder & the Predator, he cut an intimidating sight. 

Taking a seat, Kaine used the Force, and yoinked some blue drink with the consistency of yogurt from a passing Twi'lek server. 

“So you can smooth talk your way into a friendship with a Hutt, and kill a Jedi by exploiting his compassion. You really are a Sith.” Durge was the first to talk, and said in a conversational tone like Kaine was just some random guy he met whilst shopping. “Although compared to Lord Hoth & Lord Kaan, you psychics are only a fraction of what was.” 

Kaine listened to the ancient bounty hunter, and was surprised by how smooth the Gen'Dai's voice was. Like velvet to the ears. 

“And they in turn, were nothing compared to the likes of Revan or Satele Shan.” Kaine remarked, taking a sip of his blue drink. Sweetness touched his tongue, and he couldn't help but smile. 

“That’s ice crystal soup from the frozen caves of Rhen Var, some say you can attain a fraction of a Jedi's skills drinking that stuff, but long term consumption induces cancer.” Durge offhandedly remarked without a care in the world. 

Kaine raised an eyebrow, and used [Telekinesis] on a fork, and found that he was perhaps 10% stronger in the Force…which considering he had only taken one sip, was pretty impressive. This was something that required further study! 

“The distillation process costs 10,000 credits per cup. However, why bother yourself with such small talk. What mission do you have for me today, little Sith?” Durge boredly asked, stirring the contents in his drink with a bright red straw. 

Kaine raised an eyebrow. He sensed intense boredom radiating from this man. If he had to make a guess, it'd be that this long-lived individual found life to be exceedingly droll. In fact, he sensed minor amounts of depression! As a creature made up of flexible sinews that had incredible regeneration, he didn't really need to fear death, and likely acted out the life of a bounty hunter/merc to get a little excitement in his day to day. He would use this knowledge to help him in his negotiations. Although he had an ace in the hole so to speak, since he had foreknowledge, that didn't mean he had to be stupid about it. 

“As you have gathered, I am a representative of the Confederacy, and I-” 

“Not interested.” Durge morosely stated, and looked down at the table blankly. 

“May I ask why? Surely someone as qualified as you would be worth millions of credits in a galaxy spanning conflict such as this. The thrills and excitement of galactic war…what does a near immortal like you fear?” Kaine began to speak in a sophisticated tone, but by the end, he was leaning into his act as a Pureblood Sith, started to speak in disdain, as if the person in front of him were a coward. 

“Haha, a typical Sith indeed.” Durge lightly laughed, and shook his head from side to side, seeing Kaine's insult for the empty air that it was. “Save your breath, Sith. I am not some youth easily impressed by shiny glowsticks, nor am I a wet behind the ears whelp desperate for money.” 

Kaine actually laughed at Durge's words, as the stringy alien had insulted both Jabba and himself in the same sentence. Clearly he wasn't lacking courage! If Jabba learnt of this insult, he'd send countless minions after Durge, and if Kaine were a petty…well, if he was born Sith, he wouldn't let him off! 

“Now I must recruit you to our cause. Such dry wit is wasted on these malcontents.” Kaine chuckled, sloshing his drink around, he went to take a sip, but before the liquid could touch his tongue, he discreetly deposited it into his inventory. 

“The Republic has been good to me. Once the Sith inevitably lose this conflict, I am not fool enough to remain their enemy. The last time I disregarded them, the Republic didn't rescind their kill order for 300 years.” Durge explained in a mildly annoyed tone. 

The smile on Kaine's face froze, but then it deepened. 

“And what if I told you the Sith mastermind this time was in the Senate and this war is being orchestrated on both sides?” Kaine said in an extremely low, sinister whisper. 

Durge slowly put his straw down, then sat up in his chair to his full height. “I'm listening.” 

“Whichever side wins the war, the Sith shall come out on top. And you, my friend, are poised to gain much from this conflict. Haven't you become bored playing the role of some petty bounty hunter fetching the heads of others for some idiot?” Kaine idly remarked, this time, it was his turn to act lazy & coy. 

“If the war is scripted, what need do you have of me?” Durge leaned forward, his massive bulk rippled underneath his armor as he stared at Kaine, inches from his face. 

Not intimidated in the least-despite knowing this guy could throw hands with Master Obi-Wan Kenobi-Kaine popped an olive in his mouth, and enjoyed the acidic flavor. Chewing an extra second long, he spat the seed out on the table, and grinned. 

“That is a game played between Dooku and his master. A playground for thrillseekers, a place where we can slay the sons of Mandalore with zero consequences. My sorceries require death and conquest, this war satisfies that reality. You, meanwhile, shall have entertainment, and quite possibly a shot at revenge.” 

“So you've been baiting me towards this topic the entire time. Did your reports tell you I hate being manipulated?” Durge coldly spoke, his massive armored fists slowly slid across the table. He needed only to flex his arms, and they'd pull Kaine into a chokehold. 

“The information I have disclosed to you could see me tortured into perpetuity by my masters.” Kaine calmly retorted, cleaning his lips with a napkin. “My Master tasked me with recruiting you to the CIS. I want you as part of my strike team. Together, we can navigate this war as partners. Apart, you would likely be yet another depressed drunk loitering at the edges of some youth's birthday party.” 

Durge stared at him for a long time, his intent to kill surging. Several bouts of [Precognition] foresaw the alien lunging at him with a fist, yet in reality, the armored figure did nothing. 

“I have an uncompleted mission north of the city in the Scraplands. Prove to me you are capable of more than talking smooth, or tricking Jedi into suicide.” Durge slowly intoned. “Do this, and I shall follow you for the duration of the war, Kaine Renstar.” 

“And the mission details?” Kaine asked. 

“Upon the Ten Mile Plateau, you will find a derelict stellar-energy station. Due to corrosive acid fog, and a sky full of pterosaurs, you must approach on foot. Extract the files within, and return by sunrise.” Durge calmly explained. 

Kaine glanced at a window, and saw that the sun was close to setting. It was looking like he was going to have to make a nighttime adventure through a hostile zone…what a load of bantha shit! 

“What's wrong, Sith, what does a Pureblood like you have to fear?” Durge chuckled, repeating Kaine's own words back to him. 

What the Gen'Dai didn't know, was that he had [Hide Presence]. This mission was sure to be annoying, but it shouldn't be any more dangerous than his trek through the inhospitable wastelands of Ryloth. 

Holding out his hand, Kaine smirked. 

“We have ourselves a deal.”