“This was your grand plan, Jon?”
“Oh come on, you act like it’s the worst idea I’ve ever had!”
Talis looked to his commander. Somehow in spite of the blindfold, Talis managed to convey
a look. It was the kind of look he normally only got from Aura and Revak.
“...Look, we need those credits Talis, and you agreed to help me get them,” Jon explained. “Well, this is as good a way as any to get them!”
“No. You need those credits, Jon, firstly,” Talis pointed out. “Secondly, I agreed to nothing; you burst into the Squadron’s headquarters, grabbed me by the arm and said ‘get in, we’re going to go get rich.’ Thirdly, and most important: this is a terrible way to earn credits.”
Talis gestured to the pit where three gamorreans were ripping apart a squadron of B2-battle droids to the great delight of a throng of scum, villainy, and assorted low-lifes. As is to prove his point, one of the pigs chose that oppurtunity to rip the arm off one of the droids, and throw it out of the ring.
The severed limb landed at their feet, dripping oil and sparking electricity.. It’s fingers were still twitching.
Jon tried to hide his grimace.
“What are you worried about? Talis, these guys are just a bunch of untrained thugs!”
One of them, a great hulking zabrak overheard, and turned to look at them, glaring at Jon. The Captain chuckled nervously, and put his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Ah, not you of course, friend. You’re a... Ah… you have excellent… skull tattoos…”
“Silvon!” a deep, feminine voice called out. Despite the mass of noise and voices, her words rung out clear as day.
Jon and Talis turned - Talis with curiosity, Jon with thinly-veiled apprehension. The crowd parted to reveal a tall woman, with violet highlights in her raven black hair, and dressed in a skin-tight, violet outfit, walking towards the pair. Strapped to her back was pitch black lightsaber-pike, with a pair of golden serpents circling the hilt, their heads forming a kind of ornate crossguard. She seemed to almost radiate power - literally and figuratively; her presence screamed of the Dark Side of the Force.
To Talis’ senses, it was like a great black pit in the shape of a woman was approaching them. Although Talis had never met her in person, he knew exactly who she was. And Jon was… still smiling?
Oh Force no, tell me that idiot didn’t actually make a bet with--
“Selika darling!” Jon chirped, cheerful as ever as he stood in the presence of Selika Roh, Herald of the Dark Council. “I was just looking for you, m’lady! How are you --”
“This him?” Selika snapped, looking Talis’ way. Her gaze made him feel like he was bathing in ice.
“Ah!” Jon exclaimed. “As a matter of fact it is. Allow me to introduce --”
“My name is Talis Kor-Zar, of Odan-Urr.”
Selika Roh took in Talis’ form, appraising him. Slowly, the Dark Councillor began to circle the Odanite and the captain. Talis tried not to feel like he was being circled by a large predator, to very little success.
Jon was still chatting good naturedly, even though neither of the Force-users in the room were still listening. To some it might’ve seemed like he was just oblivious, but Talis knew him better than that. The captain knew full well that both Talish and Selika could sense the fear hiding just below the surface. The mask wasn’t for their benefit. It gave him a sense of control in the presence of people wielding powers he couldn’t comprehend.
“And the Odanites teach you how to fight I take it?” she asked. Her tone dripped condescension, a challenge.
“Obviously,” he said in turn. His voice, in spite of himself, was steady.
As Selika completed her circle of the pair, she came to a stop in front of them. Whatever she’d seen must’ve satisfied her, judging by the satisfied smirk on her face.
“Alright Silvon. You’re on. If your pet Force-user can take on my five best warriors down in the pit, you’ll be walking out of here ninety-thousand credits richer. Good luck.” As she turned and walked away, the two could hear her whisper “You’re gonna need it.”
“Jon. A word.” Talis grabbed his captain by the shoulder, and nearly dragged him to a secluded corner. “You’re gambling against a Dark Councilor?” he hissed.
The captain looked sheepish.
“Well, I mean when you put it that way --”
“What other way is there Jon?”
Jon looked thoughtful for a moment.
“...That we are taking a daring and heroic risk to acquire badly needed funds for Odan-Urr --”
“Jon.” Talis snapped.
“Talis. Calm down. You can take these guys, alright? They’re nothing!”
“Then why don’t you fight them?” Talis demanded.
Jon shrugged. “I’m not the one with the space magic and laser sword.”
“And I’m not the one who blew the Squadron’s budget upgrading the Grande Carnival again!”
“Not all of it,” Jon said, crossing his arms. “Some of it was for this cape I’m wearing --”
Talis took a deep breath, and resisted the urge to strangle his captain.
“When we get out of this,” he said slowly. “I’m going to make sure the Council knows exactly what you’ve been doing. And Aura will kill you. Slowly.”
“That’s the spirit Talis!” Jon laughed, clapping his friend on the back.
“Ladies, gentleman, and otherwise!” a droid with an over-the-top accent announced to the crowd. “*Do we have a show for you tonight! All the way from Kiast, a representitive of the Jedi clan themselves, Talis Kor-Zar!”
Talis walked into the hangar-come-gladiator-pit to the excited booing of a hundred species in a twice as many languages. A very encouraging start to this mad endeavor.
From up above, Jon leaned over the railing, watching his friend eagerly. Winning five fights in a row against Force-knew what kind of opponents… it would be tough, but Jon knew Talis’ fighting style well. As long as he could end each fight quickly, before his stamina started to run down, he could do it.
“You seem pretty confident your friend is gonna win this, Silvon,” a voice spoke from behind him. Jon started, and spun to see Selika standing right behind him. He’d never even heard her approach. “It’d be a real shame if the Light Side Clan had one less Force-wielder, of course. Quite the gamble you’re making, you know?”
Jon instinctively felt a thrill of terror go through him at the woman’s presence, but he immediately hid it behind a friendly smile, and a flourishing bow.
“The only gambles worth making, Madame Herald, are the ones with the highest stakes. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I would,” she said with a nod. “So I’m sure you won’t hold it against me when I cheat.”
“...Come again?” he asked. The Dark Councilor pointed down into the ring. The droid was in the process of presenting to the crowd Talis’ opponent… no. Opponents. All five of them.
“Dank ferric…” Jon whispered as realisation set in.
“I did say five opponents,” Selika said, more to herself than to Jon, as she leaned against the railing.
“But,” Jon sighed, mentally slapping himself. “You never said one at a time, right? Should’ve seen that one coming a lightyear away…”
“Yes, you really should’ve,” she chuckled.
“And now!” the droid continued. “*Fighters ready! The battle will begin in five, four, three…”
“I hate my life,” Jon growsed before throwing himself over the railing and into the pit. He landed just before the force-fields came up.
“How’s that grand plan going so far Jon?” Talis quipped as their opponents came at them.
“Shut up and get out your lightsabers, Talis.”
