Lightside Sith 039

Gathered in the hold of the Odachi, Team Renstar surrounded Kaine in a semi-circle. 

“You're mad, absolutely mad.” Ferus shook his head in stunned disbelief. 

“The Hutts wanted to make an example out of Grakkus for what he did, what better place than in the arena?” Kaine asked back. 

“I can't believe I'm agreeing with the inkstain, but an assassination is our best route. The gear, the intelligence, we have everything necessary to infiltrate Grakkus's palace.” Durge shook his armored head left and right in confusion. 

“Aggn!” Krrsantan growled in approval, and slapped Kaine's breastplate with a nod. 

“Heh, I knew the Wookiee would get it. My people are skilled assassins, this is true. However, we are proud warriors as well. Grakkus the Hutt owns a gladiatorial arena, and participates in it himself. To so grandly kill the slug in front of an audience of several million…that is quite the feat! The rewatch value would likely reach over a billion, with clips reaching the tens of billions.” Kaine said with a smirk that absolutely oozed a scummy  nobleman's persona. 

“Durge is right, the tools, the information, you need not slaughter so many people just to cleanse this blight upon the galaxy.” Ferus emphatically retorted. 

“The tools & intelligence shall not go to waste. In my final battle against Grakkus, there are many different traps, caged beasts, and surprises involved. The staff all release them to give their master an advantage. That is where you three come in. When the muscular slug is expecting some assistance, you will be there to not only prevent this, but even ensnare him at his own game!” Kaine gloated. 

“Hmm. I can see it now. The slaughter will be legendary. You know, Renstar, that brutal murder of that Jedi at Jabba's party was what first interested me in you. Now that you're finding new inventive ways to slaughter, I'm certain I made the right choice.” Durge said, changing his tune. 

When the teen was going to raise a finger in protest, Krrsantan placed a meaty paw on Ferus's shoulder, and shook his head. 

“That's more like it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a match to attend.” Kaine smoothly replied, and marched down the ramp. 

Clad in replica ancient Sith armor-looking something like an Egyptian Pharaoh Sorcerer King-gear was bright, shiny, and had a golden hue to it. For this arena challenge, lightsabers, blasters, grenades, and beskar armor were all banned, thus, his current get-up. 

In his left hand was a buckler, and his right a big Sith warblade. The warblade was festooned with runes, as was the armor. Knowledge learned from studying the ancient book of magic, these runes were currently inert, not even capable of the slightest attack or defense. However, once he quenched his gear in the blood of warriors, the runes would take effect. Especially the sword, once he slew an ancient or powerful ‘named’ enemy, he could bind its soul to the weapon, greatly enhancing it. 

And Grakkus seemed just like the guy to claim for his soulbound weapon. From there, he could extract all sorts of knowledge from that spirit, including where he had secret bank accounts, hidden properties, and most importantly, the location of his Jedi/Sith relics. 

See, Grakkus wasn't your ordinary Hutt. For one, he was built like the biggest gym bro in history, with muscles on muscles. He was a warrior through and through. Secondly, his number one hobby was collecting Jedi & Sith trinkets. In the Legends timeline, he kidnapped Luke Skywalker, and had him fight in his arena for entertainment purposes. Needless to say, he was like that rich guy who spent all his free money on Pokémon/MTG cards, but instead on Jedi items. 

Such a collection was bound to contain plenty of ‘mint condition’ items, and other rare oddities. After keeping the best loot for himself, Kaine planned on sending the scraps to Dooku & Ventress to keep himself in their good graces. Doubtlessly after the escort & rescue of Padmé's body double reached Dooku's-and more importantly, Palpatine’s ears-he'd be in for a world of pain. So, much like when a man knew he was going home to an irate girlfriend, Kaine was going to do what was known as a ‘pro-gamer move’ and preempt that with a massive gift. 

But of course, he also couldn't resist sticking it to Skywalker either, so as he strode through a large parking garage towards the under levels of the arena, he pulled out his communicator, and dialed up the beautiful young woman. Without having to wait more than three seconds, the call went through. 

“What is it, Renstar, I'm very busy organizing the relocation process for those people who you freed…thanks again by the way.” Dormé said all at once, clearly appearing frazzled as she typed away at her desk. 

“A professional woman at work, I respect that~” Kaine teased. 

“Look, if this is a social call-” 

“Those refugees are having trouble getting off world, but I'd wager many of them came to Nar Shaddaa to seek employment, and were only captured because they couldn't find work that suited them.” Kaine said in a ‘pure’ tone of voice, as if he were truly a good guy who cared about their wellbeing. 

Dormé bit her lower lip, reluctantly nodding her head. “It's true…but I don't know what to do.” 

“I hate to see such a bleeding heart cry. As a matter of fact, I called you up because I have an employment opportunity for them.” Kaine said, toying with the pommel of his sword. 

If he was going to do such an act as fight in an arena, he might as well have a crowd of witnesses around to help him farm LP. 

“YOU DO?!” Dormé exclaimed, rising from her seat, practically knocking over the lamp next to her in her excitement. 

“Easy, dark chocolate, easy.” Kaine held out his hand in a ‘woahhh!’ gesture, as if he were calming a wild horse. 

“Ahem. I mean. Is it safe?” Dormé cleared her throat, and looked away, attempting to hide the cherry red of her blushing face. 

“As safe as anything on Nar Shaddaa.” Kaine shrugged his shoulders. 

“Then I won't do it.” Dormé crossed her arms. 

“I'll pay for any offworld transport after the job is done, and they'll be paid from a pool of 1 million credits.” Kaine lazily drawled as if he had already caught the Loth cat with a bowl of milk. 

Dormé bit her lip one more time, then looked away with a conflicted look. 

“Okay…but I have to be there to supervise them, to make sure you aren't up to anything you say you aren't. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just, just-” 

“Say no more, I wouldn't have it any other way.” Kaine held up a finger, and grandly smiled. 

“You're trouble, Renstar.” Dormé frowned with a furrowed brow. 

“Hmm, very good. Then please lead those willing to work to Grakkus the Hutt's arena. Oh, and here's a million credits to your account.” Kaine said in an afterthought, wiring the money whilst typing away. 

“You're trusting me just like that?” Dormé questioned in surprise. Then just as fast, her expression morphed into bewilderment. Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she had an expression akin to a goldfish on her face. “The arena!?” 

“Yes, I need some hecklers to boost my cache at just the right time, or even throw shade at me when appropriate. I'll leave it in your very capable hands to place bets on me when it's at the lowest valley, so that our wins result in mountains of creds.” Kaine explained everything slowly, as if he were teaching a five year old how to spell their name. 

Dormé continued to blink like a goldfish, but she wasn't a stupid woman, and was quick to grasp the key words of their exchange. 

“You're going to fight in Grakkus's arena? That's too dangerous!” Dormé said in concern, and began tapping away at her dataslate to return the money, as if it had scalded her. 

“The Hutt ruling Council has ordered this hit. If I tried to back out now, I'd be floating face down in a vat of acid come tomorrow. Please, Dormé, I need your help.” Kaine entreated, as if he were some bad boy asking his girlfriend for money for drugs for the dozenth time. 

Dormé shifted her shoulders from side to side, a guilty look spreading across her face. 

Time for the coup de gras. 

“Think of the children. Not only will those willing to work be paid, but the dividends from those wagers will also go directly into their futures. By the end of this, I might even be able to get a slice of Grakkus's wealth. It could benefit not only the people we rescued, but go towards a charity. One both myself and the Senator could co-chair.” Kaine said, referencing Padmé with a diabolical glint in his eye. 

Upon hearing this rapid series of heart wrenching stomach punches, Dormé took a deep breath, then looked him in the eye with a level of heat that Kaine momentarily mistook her for the real thing. 

“When is your first match?” She asked with fire in her voice. 

“Half an hour from now.” Kaine returned. 

Dormé stared at him, sharply exhaled through her nose, and held her head high. “I will be there…as will the children. I wish to keep them innocent, but they already experienced the edge of hell…and have been clamoring to see you fight ever since you brought them back.”

“Rest assured-” 

“Don't. You. Lose. Renstar. Do you understand?” Dormé interrupted, and poked out her finger as if she were stabbing it into his chest. 

“Mi'lady, Kaine Renstar is many things, but a loser he is not. Slaughtering my way through hordes of faceless goons is my speci-ali-tee~” Kaine replied in a bragging tone, and performed a grand bow. 

Dormé stared him down, taking an especially long time to admire some of his abs that were peaking through a gap in the armor. 

Kaine felt some latent, hidden desire through the Force coming from the young maiden, and responded with a rogueish grin, and wink of the eye. 

Dormé shivered once she knew she had been caught, and without another word, she practically lunged towards the off button on her desk. 

+10LP. 

It appeared playing with a maiden's heart generated LP too. 

How cute. 

Humming a merry tune to himself, Kaine queued up for his first fight. Entering a large tunnel, the sound of cheers, boos, and the roar of a bloodthirsty crowd entered his ears. 

Dried blood was everywhere on the tunnel floor, and a bright red streak indicated a fresh one had been dragged off somewhere. 

His ancient Sith bloodline began to boil, and adrenaline & other alien hormones powered through his body. 

He couldn't wait. 

~~~~~

AN: YK, the ancient Sith had such an awesome aesthetic with the whole Egyptian Sorcerer thing. I think at some point Renstar will have to build himself a pyramid. All these ‘modern’ Sith wear black edgy clothing, and hide in the shadows. But sorcerer-warriors like Marka Ragnos are just so badass. If it weren't so unknown/unpopular, I'd love to write a story set in that era.