SithLore

-Corellia, Late Afternoon-

She was a bad person. Polly had known from the moment he saw her that she was bad news. Bad, bad news. The contents of her cargo only confirmed it and the current situation even moreso. But did Polly really care? To an extent, yes. Regardless of his feelings though, he would still have gone with her because he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. She was the only one willing to help him, even if she only did so because she saw an opportunity for profit in him. Specifically his possessions.

Polly sat cross-legged in the cargo hold on the cold floor of the old rustic VCX-100 light freighter, surrounded by tiny little particles of dust that seemed to sparkle under the ship’s light. They tickled his nose and he felt the pressure of an oncoming-sneeze. He sniffed and blinked away the tears brought on by the tickling feeling in his sinuses, and scrunched up his face in concentration.

By his feet, a dozen different small contraptions lay scattered about, many of them disassembled or turned inside out, wires and components visible. Amid the assortment of module pieces, was a myriad of different tools such as screwdrivers, wrenches, speed squares, laser-beam levels, hammers and a magnifying glass. Off to the side was a pile of tiny little chips and Polly picked one of them up, and carefully and meticulously inserted it into one of the contraptions on the floor. Then he repeated the motion again and again until there were no chips left, and once done he assembled the contraptions again with skilled ease.

He stood up and stretched out his stiff, aching muscles, body shifting oddly under his too big clothes as if it wanted to bulge out of its current form. Polly winced as his nerves vibrated with pain and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds. He stood still and breathed slowly for a minute, then he squatted down and scooped up the contraptions into his arms. After sorting them into the cargo boxes, he put all the tools away in their respective kits. When he was done, there was no trace that anything at all had happened.

Polly smiled contentedly to himself. Finally done! He’d spent hours going through the last of the cargo and tagging a number of the contents inside. Guns, grenades, crystals, weapon schematics and prototype shield generators. They were bad things. Things that could hurt people.

His smile vanished and he shook his head ruefully. He had begun to sound like a human child even within his mind and that wasn’t good at all. Though he was a child by the standards of his species, he was the oldest on the ship. Humans would have considered him old.

The ship rocked for a moment and Polly perked his head up. They had landed it would seem, but where exactly had they touched down?

“Hey kid!” The female smuggler, a blue skinned Nautolan named Kayt who Polly guessed to be in her thirties, climbed down the ladder that led down to the cargo hold, and stood in front him with her hands at her hips and a stern look to her face. “You get up to the cockpit and you stay there. Don’t come down or go out, no matter what happens lest you want a blaster bolt in the face. Capiche?”

Polly stared blankly at her, though she couldn’t see it due to the goggles he wore. He let her hang for a bit and just as she was getting annoyed and ready to yell at him, he nodded.

Kayt’s lips pulled into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good. Now scram! I got work to do!”

She was really a bad person, but far from the worst. Polly had already pushed her buttons many times during their trip just to see what he could get away with, and though she always threatened him she never once harmed a hair on his head. In her eyes he was just some lost, innocent kid in need of help. In a way she was kind because she didn’t want any harm to come to him and she did genuinely want to help him. She did, however, also want to rob him of all his possessions. One couldn’t win on all points, he supposed.

The ship’s ramp opened up slowly, the engines hissing as steam and exhaust was blown out. Polly stopped halfway up the ladder to glance over his shoulder. Kayt had her back turned to him and didn’t see him staring beyond her and to the green field of grass outside. Where on Corellia were they? And who was waiting for them and the cargo? What would Kayt receive in return?
Whatever it was, Polly was certain it was nothing good.

Polly stopped at the top of the ladder and waited a couple minutes until he was certain Kayt had exited the ship with all the cargo. Then he sprinted to the cockpit on quick, nimble feet. What he was doing was probably not the best idea, but he couldn’t just ignore what was happening.

Kayt’s cargo was stolen wares - apparently Alliance wares judging by the logo on them - no doubt taken from some under-the-radar military research facility, and were highly dangerous in the wrong hands. The kind of people that hired a smuggler to steal stuff like that were not of the good kind and most definitely didn’t have morally right intentions. If they didn’t qualify as the wrong hands, Polly didn’t know who did.

There was not much he could do to stop them, not alone, but there was bound to be someone looking for the cargo. Kayt was good at shaking off tails and even better at going undetected, but Polly was a deft hand with technology, machinery and starships. It was a simple thing to secure a communications line and contact the right people. He hadn’t spoken directly with anyone or given a name or an identity, but had rather sent encoded messages with information pertaining to his location and the contents of the cargo as he slowly went through the crates and catalogued them.

Now he was in the cockpit, and with a few expert strokes of his fingers, he sent out the last transmission, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop the trade from happening. He would have to delay it.

Polly could do it from the ship, but he wouldn’t be able to see how Kayt and her buyers would react. She had deliberately landed the ship in an angle where neither the cockpit, the ramp or any of the windows overlooked the meeting point. He could fly off with the ship and while that would distract Kayt, the buyers would hardly care. No, he had to leave the ship. Besides, he was too small to actually be able to fly the ship accurately. Kayt was a really tall woman and his 4’8” couldn’t really measure up to her 6’1”.

He left the cockpit and hurried through the ship. He slid down the ladder and dropped onto the floor of the cargo hold with a thud. Without missing a beat he skidded down the ramp and out onto the green field of rural Corellia.

Ascertained that he had a ten minutes or so before the trade would be finalized, Polly took a moment to study his surroundings. They were in an open field to the right of the edge of a forest. To his right tall trees crowned with flowery green branches stood densely. In front him there was nothing but grass, the stretch of green only broken by a distan, snow tipped mountain in the horizon.

Tactical thinking was not something Polly had been trained in, so he didn’t have a clue what he was actually supposed to do next. He would just have to wing it somehow, but he really didn’t like it. It was risky and he was the kind that preferred to be cautious rather than stupidly reckless.

Polly made a beeline for the trees. He made sure to that he wasn’t spotted by Kayt or the buyers. They were just by the treeline, barely visible hidden as they were in the shadows.

He ducked behind a tree and worried his lips, his mind racing a mile a minute. He had to come up with some way to distract and delay them without risking himself too much. He was really not keen on dying.

A couple of minutes later, he had walked quite a bit and stood atop a small rise. Why he had done so, he had no clue, but he felt drawn to the area as if it would somehow provide him with an answer on what to do. It was like a gut instinct guiding him, or some other sense that he couldn’t quite comprehend. Not knowing what else to do, he had simply followed it.

Turns out that had been a colossal mistake.

Behind the rise, a pack of at least three dozen dire-cats, cubs included, milled about, some of them tearing into some poor felled animal.

Polly stopped dead in his tracks and breathed in sharply. He barely stopped himself from cursing and slowly began to turn around, but as he stepped down onto the undergrowth, a twig shattered underfoot and the sound was like an explosion.

“Frak!”

A chorus of howls split the air and just about shattered his ear drums as every single dire-cat glared at him, fangs barred and eyes alight with bloodlust. Polly stood frozen for several seconds, as did they, but fear and instinct kicked in soon enough and he ran.

They shot after him down the rise like automated bullets, a storm of rumbling tunnels at his heels. He screamed and yelled for Kayt and the five men surrounding her to run, run, run! They looked shocked and utterly mortified as he stormed toward them. And then they too ran.

Kayt ran like the wind toward her ship, two crates hovering beside her. The buyers headed for their own ship with the rest of the cargo already loading onto the ramp. Polly headed for Kayt’s ship too, but before he could get even halfway, a pair of claws hooked his ankles and he crashed to the ground as two dire-cats came bearing down on him.

The night was coming, the heat fading from the warmed planet. Blood could almost smell the light fragrance the lush trees had to offer as his Infiltrator landed on the planet. The lovely hills, the meadows teaming with the vivid green of lovingly taken care of grasses...all of it was just on the outside of the porthole he gazed out of.

How much was Kayt still worth to him? Not much, honestly. He hadn't seen the Nautolan since he had left his bounty hunting and most of his illegal trading life, behind as Slade. Now, as a Sith Lord, everything he could have even had the slightest of desires for were delivered to his fingertips with no questions asked. So Kayt, dear Kayt, was nothing more than a breeze he had to blow far, far away.
Blood was a keen, keen devil. He hadn't personally done business with the Nautolan; Slade did. However, despite the same face and different persona, Blood and Slade shared memories, and Blood forgot no face. That scandalous girl hadn't contacted him back, and whether he went AWOL or was murdered, he and all of his contacts and business partners had made truce when they made business with him; They would keep in contact atleast once a month.
It had been almost an entire year since he had heard from the lovely Kayt.
That was naughty of her.

Blood walked down the ramp savoring the air as the ship landed. Oh, how he missed visiting this wonderful rock.
Behind him, 2 sets of Garrals emerged, all 8 volcanic eyes hanging hungrily on the land as their master began his trek down the ramp. The click of unclipped claws sounded a haunting song to nearby ears, though it was just a melody of pure beauty in his ears. Blood was rather fond of garrals, as the hulking beasts were much more vicious than people assumed, which became their own fault as they were mauled by the hulking canines. Garrals were extremely smart, and with Blood having the experience of what he knew from Slade and his own skill, Blood capitalized on it. They stalked to where noise of scuffle was, howls and yowls were prominent, souring the natural ambiance. Almost synchronized, all eyes, whether man or beast, focused on where the scattered disturbance was.

And with the knowledge stolen from Slade, Blood sent a single chorus of whistles to the hounds, a long tune paired with 2 sharp whistles. A snap followed, and as a unit, the Garrals moved to silence the situation. It was through the grasses of the planet, into a meadow of emerald life. The garrals were followed by their master, who took a casual pace to the scene which unfolded not too far from his landing.
Each second he played various scenarios of how the hulking dogs had apprehended the multi-tentacled azure alien. Each scenario more deliciously gore-ified than the last. However, happening upon the scene, this was not to be.

Emre sat in the dining room of the infiltrator, feeling the full force of anxiety. He curled his head between his knees trying to calm himself down. His master had told him previously before landing that he didn’t have to accompany him on this specific mission. The master knew this planet was a source of pain for the young acolyte, and allowed him to stick behind if he wanted. Emre gave Lord Blood no definite answer, but instead stayed behind to regain his composure.

Tapping his foot on the cold metal floor of the vessel, Emre swayed back and forth holding his medallion around his neck. He knew for the sake of impressing his master and moving forward for his training he had to do this. He had to learn first hand on missions like this. Being one of the very few he had the privilege of joining, he knew what he had to do.

The young man got up and began to pace the dinning room. He held his arms above his head, feeling his emotions take over. He was angry, he hated Corellia, but he had to do this. Harnessing his hatred towards this place gave him the courage to walk out of the hull and onto the plains.

Emre exited the vessel down the ramp as he saw his master only a short distance ahead. His boots finally touched the surface of his hell for the first time since he had left. He wore light armor with a thin black hooded robe that kept his face covered from any unwanted gazes. His tan hands gripped the hilt of his vibro sword, a weapon he had very little training with so far.

Quickly, he hustled to make his way behind his master as the Garrals moved a head. As he caught up to Blood, he slowed down to a casual pace. Catching his breath, Emre nodded to the Lord acknowledging he was ready.

There has been an awakening...
Have you felt it?
#

Corellian forests, planet Corellia
Corellian system, Corellian sector

"Our intel was solid," the giant, digitigrade SEP-security droid that had been custom-fitted with the head of a KX-unit, Bigweld 2.0, nodded to Ani, photoreceptor units focused on the grasslands and tall trees that blocked their view. "The trajectory of the cargo ship, from which the coded transmission came, can be extrapolated to this general location..."

Jedi Rainwalker nodded at his seven foot tall droid, and oldest friend, as he stood in the midst of the tall blades of Corellian grass adorned in entirely black robes, save for a white sash tied around his waste. His hands were crossed over his chest, both robotic appendages hidden from plain site by his excessively long sleeves. Green eyes scanned the forest, but the eyes had a distance look to them, as Annan was not observing through his retinas, but through the Force.

He could detect multiple life signs, but most of them were not strong enough to belong to higher sentient life forms, thus Jedi Rainwalker deduced they were the local fauna. Annan breathed in, and out, expanding his reach in the Force as he found that centre that Master Xin had taught him to locate when he had been his Padawan - three years had now passed. Center... center... found it. Annan inhaled, and reached out...

His eyes snapped open, and he shot forth in his three o' clock direction at breakneck speeds.

Bigweld 2.0, who had been observing the other general direction, turned around and saw that his partner was suddenly nowhere in sight.

"... Ani...?"

He saw a small disappearing speck in the horizon.

"ANI!!!"

Bigweld 2.0 bolted behind him.

#

A blue-green glow fell upon the boy and his would-be predators for the briefest of moments, accompanied by a snap-hiss, before the predatory feliforms that had been foremost in bringing the boy down promptly lost their heads. It would have been a grotesque sight, had Jedi Rainwalker's plasma blade not cauterised the decapitated predators to prevent them bleeding all over the boy - nevertheless, suddenly seeing any life form lose a head must been as traumatic an experience as knowing that one was going to be their food had there been but a moment's delay in that decapitation. The boy may need post-traumatic stress counselling after this event, but Annan hoped he would recover.

Especially since his presence in the Force felt so potent.

Jedi Rainwalker subconsciously registered the strength of the Force with the injured boy (he had been clawed by that animal before it had lost its head), as he now stood between him and the remaining felines, who no doubt had halted their advance seeing their two pride leaders get their heads chopped off by the blue-green lightsaber ignited in Jedi Rainwalker's right hand, and more importantly, they were suddenly being preyed upon themselves by... strange multiple-eyed caniforms...

On his part, Annan was sad. He disliked harming any living thing, it was against both his very nature and his Jedi teachings. Yet this had been done out of sheer necessity; the green-eyed Jedi Knight could not Force Pull the boy away because the feliforms had almost killed him and Annan in his rushed arrival did not have the mental presence to concentrate in time to telekinetically affect the boy with the Force. Decapitation by lightsaber had been the only logical option.

“Youngling, how badly are you hurt?” spake the Jedi Knight, his tone at least soothing, if not mystical, as he calmly stared down the predators, lightsaber hissing and twirling in his hand, as they fought one another.

It was a rather horrific sight, Ani noted.

The sounds of blaster fire were heard, the weapon in the hands of Bigweld 2.0 launched a series of green blasterbolts - set at stun - that should hit Kayt's back moments before she had climbed up the ramp of her ship, preventing her escape. The other people could not be helped at this point, but Jedi Rainwalker was content that his trusty droid was ever present as back-up.

Then, the Jedi Knight's green orbs fell upon to the two newcomers as they entered the scene. He did not show any outward reaction, but both his Common and Danger Senses were screaming 'mother!', as he registered the powerful Force signature of the taller one.

Okay, he had not been expecting this.

Rhoden leapt from a relatively low branch onto the ground as Jorvan neared his location. His eyes were alight, for it had been many years since he had gone into the wilderness of any planet for any reason outside of some crucial mission.

Rhoden wore not his Shadowguard armor, for this planet was not so dangerous as to warrant such protection. He did, however, have his vibroblade, scout blaster, and SE-14r. And--a notable addition to his usual armament--a bowcaster. Rhoden had used the weapon before, but he was looking forward to becoming more proficient with it on this trip.

"Good to put some of the skills we learned on Morikin to work, eh?" he said to Jorvan "Never been a combat scenario I've not used those skills in." Jorvan replied. "Maybe get a nice rug, or.. oh... I know--I'll make a hat for Haly." Rhoden said, fingering the bowcaster. Jorvan glanced at Rhoden and was on the point of responding when there was a great commotion ahead.

The duo broke into a sprint and quickly arrived upon a clearing, there was a boy on the ground surrounded by a group of beasts. Before Rhoden could take aim however, another form broke out of the forest. There was a snap-hiss and the familiar blaze of a lightsaber tore through the beasts.

Throwing aside the blaster Rhoden ran up to the boy on the ground and quickly looked him over, there appeared to be no life-threatening injuries. Rhoden looked up as several stun bolts dropped someone who had been running towards a ship, a smuggler Rhoden suspected. Rhoden's eyes moved, then, to two individuals and his back stiffened.

Once more he had been put in the path of the Sith, and what was worse, he was between them and a Jedi. Cursing to himself he scrambled back dragging the boy with him, he had no desire to be in the middle of this fight. Jorvan moved around the Jedi to join Rhoden.

Crack!

The glass on the goggles of his right eye cracked and shattered as his head crashed onto the ground. Pain pulsated through his head, strobe lights flashed before his eyes and took all sight from him and he tasted dry dirt, but all of those sensations faded as razor sharp claws raked down his leg and the hot stinky breath of one of the dire-cats tickled his neck.

He didn’t scream or make even the slightest of sounds. In fact he was oddly calm in the face of his impending death. Wait, no, Polly wasn’t going to die today. He knew it as certainly as he knew the sun would rise on Corellia come the next morning. Help was coming. He could feel it as clearly as he could feel the claws in his ankle. It was a sense of instinctual knowing, very much alike the sense that had brought him face to face with the predatory felines.

Help was coming and it was here now.

Polly heard rather than saw the decapitation of the dire-cats. The snap-hiss of a blade and the thud of two heads rolling on the ground. In his mind he saw it with absolutely clarity, the clean sweep of the blade that were their end and their heads rolling to a still a few feet away. And he shivered then as he felt their life snuff away as quickly as you blow out a candlelight.

The sound of blaster fire and fighting reached his ears, and they told him all he needed to know. More had arrived on the scene and the dire-cats were fighting some other, vicious creature. The howling, snarling and pained yowls were almost enough to wipe out the sound of ripping flesh. Almost.

”Youngling, how badly are you hurt?”

Polly moved for the first time, his head turning slightly so that he could look upon his rescuer through the broken glass of his right goggle eye. One eye, a brilliantly blue and clear sky, fell upon the green eyed Jedi and the blue-green lightsaber he held in his right hand. There was no fear in that eye, just calm inquisitiveness. The sight and feel of the Jedi near him was like a pressure on his chest, and the power that the man held was almost tangible. It was as if Polly could taste it and the sensations sent shivering tickles throughout his body.

Had he been able, Polly would have said something, but his head still swam and no words would come to his tongue.

A man arrived by his side then. Polly didn’t see him, but felt his presence, the air shifting as he came down to inspect him. Polly let his head fall to rest on the ground and didn’t object as the man dragged him away from the felines, the Jedi and the two approaching men that he had, until just then, not noticed.

“They are dangerous,” he whispered, eyes staring steadily dead ahead at the two men. “But so are they.” Polly turned his head and pointed limply at the buyers who were loading the last of their cargo. “And what they carry.”

He lifted one hand to his face and removed the splinters of glass from his goggle eye. Then he attempted to stand up, legs trembling under the strain so much so that he simply collapsed. There was little in the way of pain. All he felt was numb. The injury caused by the claws was not fatal nor particularly deep, but deep enough to make him bleed. His leg was covered in blood and more trickled out from it like the thinnest stream from a faucet.

“How did you get here? And who are you?”

Polly asked into the air, the question directed to everyone. He didn’t know who of these people were truly his ally and in order to determine whom to trust, he needed to know their motive. Had any of these people received his transmission? If anyone it had to be the Jedi, but Polly wasn’t even sure he was a Jedi. Caution and skepticism was the only reason Polly was still alive, even if he had just been stupidly reckless mere moments before.

Rip!

The cloth of his right pant leg was ripped loose and Polly wrapped it around the wound and expertly tied it. He would have liked to at least wash it, but now really wasn’t the time. He could deal with it no problem. He had faced pain on a much larger scale before and survived. Or so he thought, because he couldn’t actually remember it. There was much he couldn’t remember, but none of that mattered now. At the moment, he had to try not to die.

The 4 garrals had come to a halt when they had seen the enemy before them. Forming a curve line, they stood before Blood, muscles bunching under thick hides as they readied themselves for their tamer's command. Emre had come to join him after all, and together they surveyed the scene before them. The one the garrals were meant to apprehend; she wasn't here. The Nautolan was farther off, not even at this scene.
Cursing himself, he despised his lack of patience- if he had sensed the life, if he had taken the second to ensure this form wasn't her, then he wouldn't have wasted this time. Now someone else stood before him with a sway of dark robes, highlighted by a ivory band. The Wolf reached his mental touch before his pack, just to address the scent of the new comers. The thing before him, something or someone small, was snatched up by a man, who held in his pack, another. His Garrals snarled at the human who raced across the scene, though the canines did not attack. But the Master Tamer was mesmerized more by the more dominant of the pair, the Dark Pelted man with the gems of ice in his skull. Pretty, pretty blue eyes. Such a contrast of color, and a rare one, indeed. Both had no visible touch of Force in the Hunter's interpretation.

In his arms lay a smaller humanoid, a bundle of life he hadn't come across, ever. It was strange, and alien to him. Not familiar, whatsoever. And most importantly, it wasn't Kayt. The man, the frosty eyed brave who snatched him and scuttled back, heard words from Blood, himself. A calm and collected command, graciously backed by his own explanation.

"Keep him. I am not here for the child, anyways."

Turning his gaze back to the saber wielding figure before him, he felt the hackles in his mind rise ever so slightly. In response, the Garrals too grew more aggressive, revealing gleaming alabaster fangs behind sharp pronged lips. Tails arched, they were locked onto the Jedi as Blood himself inhaled the aura of the robed figure who dared to cull animal life so easily. Golden irises lay stuck on the eyes of this robed man, only to fall to the lifeless and cooling bodies of the dire cats.
They returned to the Jedi's with an unpredictable blaze behind them.

Not turning to his own Apprentice, Blood spoke to Emre.
"This is who we face against, Acolyte. This monster before you is who points the judging finger, and deems us the terror to children. Witness this crime, remember it, and make your opinion of the Jedi."

Blood knew he wasn't here to face against a Jedi, or what this saber wielder happened to be. If anything, he still felt young in the Force, a pup learning beneath a Sire. Taking a more contemplative stance, he spoke again; this time to the White Sash.

"One day, we will meet again. And unlike them," he said, sweeping a matte black gloved hand over the direction of the corpses. "I want you to be ready, Berniuk iv Jidai."

A second passed before he broke his gaze with the Jedi, and he took his leave. Dark cape flushed an elegant flourish behind him as he swiveled and made his exit to where the cargo folk scrambled to get their things aboard their ship. The Garrals stayed in their formation until both Blood and Emre were well away from the scene until they too turned and left efficiently to form proper formation with the two disappearing Sith.

His master’s beasts had come to a halt rather suddenly. A scene had been unfolding in front of them a few moments before they had arrived. They were obviously late to the party, whatever party this was.

The acolyte could notice his master’s focus was no longer on the child, but the man with the glowing saber. Emre was interested to see how Lord Blood would respond, he knew they this would be a long encounter if the pair stayed.

"This is who we face against, Acolyte. This monster before you is who points the judging finger, and deems us the terror to children. Witness this crime, remember it, and make your opinion of the Jedi."

Emre felt a swell on anger for the Jedi; he strove to be nothing like him. It would be a tragedy to leave the child in the hands on this man, but it seemed they were too late.

The young man turned to leave with Lord Blood, the beasts guarding them as they if they were to follow. Emre was concerned as to why they would leave the young child but some fights aren’t worth it. He hoped he would see this jedi another day, when he was stronger.

Rhoden watched the Sith turn and leave. He felt relief flood through him and made no attempt to shoot them in their backs for it would have been an effort in futility.

"Never you mind, now." Rhoden said, letting the boy drop into Jorvan's hands. Jorvan began inspecting the wound himself, and had opened his small but well-kept medical pouch. Rhoden turned to the smugglers, or--for he had seen them hastily loading a few more crates--buyers. He raised the bowcaster, "Need I say anything?" he asked loudly. The two men hoisting the crate looked up and wilted, they dropped the box and raised their hands.

Of course none of this was Rhoden's business, indeed he felt a great annoyance at this disturbance in his vacation. "Oi, Jedi!" he growled, "I think this is your responsibility?" He gestured with the weapon to the two scowling men standing behind the crate and tilted his head to the injured boy.

Jedi Rainwalker released all the agitation and nervousness that crept into his system into the Force with a few deep, nasal breaths, sparkling green eyes calm to the outside world, yet alert, fully trained on the Sith Lord before him, as his short black hair danced along with his black cloak in the billowing winds. He spared a side-glance at the man who had taken the youngling into his grasp, but as he made no malignant moves, the Jedi made no move against him.

“How did you get here? And who are you?”

Annan did not turn to look at the boy, eyes fixed on the Two. Always Two there are, a Master and an Apprentice... "Me? 'I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you'!"

Annan paused for dramatic effect.

When he saw no one bought his quip, he smirked. It was an old habit of his to diffuse tense situations with quips like that. "Kid, come on. Fancy green 'laser sword', black cloak? What do I look like, Senator Binks? ... Annan Anakin Rainwalker, Jedi Knight. As for how I got here, I was on... business, in Selonia. My droid picked up and decrypted an encoded transmission. Something about stolen Alliance goods. Considering we were just a planet over, we decided to pay a visit."

Then finally, the Sith Lord turned his undivided attention to said Jedi Knight.

"This is who we face against, Acolyte. This monster before you is who points the judging finger, and deems us the terror to children. Witness this crime, remember it, and make your opinion of the Jedi."

Annan did not need to sense the hate coming off from the Sith Lord, he could practically see it in the large man's body language and hear it in his tone. The growling, bare-fanged Garrals were also not exactly a subtle indication. Introspectively, the Jedi found the entire ordeal rather amusing. Here was this man, whose very presence screamed 'dark side', raging over for him for killing a couple of non-sentient life forms - something the Jedi deeply regretting doing more than he would ever know anyways - in order to save the life of a sentient youngling.

Talk about needing to get one's priorities straightened out.

"Yes," Annan's responded, tone serene and mystical, and somehow laced with sarcasm at the same time, "I'm sure the poor felines only wanted catnip. The youngling just happened to be in their way, so they decided to claw him to death. But who cares about younglings, right? Bad, bad Jedi Knight, for committing the horrible crime of preventing a kid from becoming a carcass..."

Jedi Rainwalker collapsed his lightsaber, placing the black-hilted blade in its clip at the right side of the white sash that served as his belt, as he saw the large man take his leave along with his entourage of predatory fauna, black cape gloriously bellowing behind him. "... Vader wannabes," the Jedi muttered under his breath after a while of staring at their disappearing forms, shaking his head in mock-disappointment, "It's been thirty years since he kicked the bucket, and still, Vader wannabes everywhere. Why can't they try something new, huh, Bigweld?"

The giant, black SEP-series security droid, custom fitted with the head of a KX-unit walked over to the scene, a stunned Kayt apprehended, photoreceptor units locked onto Rhoden and Jorvan just so they did not make any funny moves. He did not respond to his partner, Annan never expected him to. He stuck to his security droid programming, keeping Rhoden and Jorvan within blaster range even after they had begun providing first aid to the boy. The Jedi, on the other hand, softened himself immediately upon seeing that, projecting nothing but peace and calm at that point.

Talk about Light Side, Dark Side and the Balance.

"Oi, Jedi!" Rhoden growled, "I think this is your responsibility?" He gestured with the weapon to the two scowling men standing behind the crate and tilted his head to the injured boy.

The Jedi looked back down at the boy, responding to Rhoden without looking directly at him. "Considering these are stolen Alliance goods, I believe so. Boy, were you a part of their crew? Who sent the signal?" Annan paused, before adding, "... and where are your parents?"