The Drunk Side

*Kaldera listened to the Darth's story in interest, though he slowly began to find it boring. There was nothing overly "great" about this beings' transformation into that of a Dark Lord of the Sith. He was just a former greedy business man who simply wanted more power for himself. A trait that Kaldera had hoped would have been eradicated from the Sith centuries ago by Darth Bane. But absolute power corrupts absolutely, and this Neca, clearly had been corrupted. His appearance certainly screamed as such.*

*As the self titled "Darth" concluded his story, Kaldera scoffed in amusement. Cutting passed the details of his past, Kaldera looked straight at the would-be-Sith and asked directly.*

So what your saying is, you didn't earn you title, you simply claimed it cause you wanted to join the masses?

*Kaldera couldn't help but begin laughing at that. It was odd how the "Darth" title these days, was synonymous with "Lord" in Kaan's Brotherhood of Darkness, all show, no power. Quickly changing moods from amused to disgusted, Kaldera said.*

That is rather pathetic.

*Kaledra's reaction was hardly unexpected. Not that it bothered Neca of course. He'd seen and done far too much for ire of some young upstart to rattle his self-image. Truth be told, he'd never given much thought to whether or not he had 'earned' his new title. It seemed like a natural progression and as such, he adopted it without any great deliberation.

Neca half listened to the rest of the young Sith's words as he pondered where to take this little meeting next. He certainly had grounds to put this whelp in his place. Whether or not he actually could was another matter entirely, however.*

I claimed it for a few reasons.

*Neca sighed and leaned back in his seat, casually glancing around in search of the bartender. His tone was jovial still but now with a palpable hint of venom.*

One of which was to irritate pretentious fools like the one sat before me. The rest are far to complicated for you to comprehend. Anyway, you've asked enough questions now and I'm very quickly becoming bored of you. And I don't like being bored. Unless you'd like to support your churlish tone I'd reason that it would be in your interest to speak with a little more... respect.

*Kaldera could feel the tension rising between himself and the Kel Dor, and he felt no fear. He was confident in his own abilities and, while Neca maybe more knowledgeable in the Dark side, his aged body may not be so strong. He weighed his options as the awkward silence built between the two Sith, until it was broken by the shuffling of the bartender coming up beside them with another tea cup. Setting it on the table, the man looked to the two of them and asked.*



*Kaldera remained silent, deciding to take a sip of his still hot tea, which was due to his natural affinity to the nature side of the Force. As the silence settled once more, Kaldera continued to draw more of the Dark side to him, in preparation of a possible confrontation with the Elder Sith.*

*Neca ignored the bartender who was still stood awkwardly between the two posturing Sith. The Kel Dor could feel dark side energy flowing around Kaledra like a filthy river and it made him uncomfortable, not because he didn't believe that he could defeat his would be foe as he'd now decided that it probably wouldn't be too much of a challenge. Regardless, he didn't want a violent confrontation with the man. Neca had come to Korriban to stay off the radar and starting a fight in a packed bar clearly wasn't conducive to his goals. He needed to end this, and fast.

Neca leapt to his feet in a blur of swirling robes. The crunch and screech of rusted metal filled the air as Neca's durasteel skin scraped and ground against bone, sinew and flesh. He snapped the rusty hilt of his saber from his belt and ignited it in one swift motion, bathing the dimly lit cantina with a deep crimson glow. He adopted his usual duelling stance; side on, back knee bent to facilitate an early lunge or dodge and saber tip pointed to the face of his foe. Naturally the bar fell deathly silent as all faces turned to the pair, only the hum of Neca's blade broke the deathly stillness. Trickles of oily blood dripped to the floor from new lacerations of old scar tissue where organic flesh met metal, brought about by the Sith's sudden action. Considering his age and condition, the old Sith was surprisingly nimble it seemed.*

Is this what you want then?

*He flicked Kaledra a brief Makashi salute.*

Come along now, make a decision. If you want to play with the big boys going around acting all spoiled and surly at the slightest insult to yourself or your heritage isn't really a very good idea now is it?

*As Neca leaped from the booth, drew his lightsaber, and managed to gash open his ancient looking flesh, Kaldera did nothing aside from throw up the natural barrier all Force users used to deflect Force based attacks thrown at them. In this, he remained calm. In all honesty, he didn't want an engagement with the elder Sith. Their prides had taken hold and now they were caught in the middle of a useless pissing contest that would do nothing to benefit either of them. And thats not what Kaldera had come to learn under the Blackguard, nor from his private studies of Darth Bane's ideologies.*

*Taking another sip from his tea, Kaldera looked up to Neca standing before him, taking no notice of the Bartender to his left who was pissing himself in fear, and said.*

If we are to engage each other in combat, I would prefer to gain something from it aside from an unnecessary body, as I am sure you feel the same. I let my pride and my teachings get the better of me, now please, sit down before the tea gets cold.

*Unsure as to how the self-titled Darth would act now, Kaldera used the Force to flick the little switch on the flamethrower on his left arm, quietly activating it in case this escalated any further.*

That's better!

*Neca laughed heartily and deactivated his saber. All of a sudden he was overtaken by the acidic smell of fresh urine. He looked over at the bartender on his left, his eyes drawn to the dark stain around his groin and down the insides of his legs. He raised his brow*

Go and clean yourself up, silly man.

*The bartender, probably still unsure quite what was going on scurried away nonetheless. Neca dropped back into his chair as the room returned to normal.*

You can turn that off now, please.

[Narration]He gestured to the device on Kaledra's left arm which he assumed was some sort of weapon.[/Narration

You, my dear, made the right choice. As much as I love a little scrap now is not the time or the place...

You know more than enough about me and I shan't honour you with any further details of my remarkable life and exploits until you reveal a little more about your good self. Tell me, Kaledra; aside from the obvious, what brings you to Korriban?

*Not bothering to hide the half grin that came to Kaldera's face as Neca deactivated his blade and sat down across from him once more. Looking to where the Kel Dor pointed next, Kaldera let out a soft chuckle as he flicked the activation switch on his flamethrower off. Then, pouring Neca a some of the still warm tea in the spare cup the bartender had brought them, and slid it before him, not caring if the Kel Dor could potentially actually drink it or not. It was respectful.*

*Listening on, Kaldera couldn't help but roll his eyes amusingly before answering the question presented to him.*

Well, Lord Neca, I am here to find the rest of the Sith, take what they know, and leave them. Maybe kill a few I find worthless, but otherwise let them destroy themselves in their own way. Once I have earned my own Darth title, I'll take on my own apprentice and pass along what I have learned to them, as is the way the Sith should and forever shall be, in one way or another.

*Pausing a moment to refill his own tea cup, he took a small sip from the cup and asked.*

So what brings you here, if I might ask?

*Neca looked at the tea, then to Kaledra, then back to the tea. He hated tea. Even if he could drink the stuff he wouldn't touch it with a barge pole. He didn't much like the smell either and turned off his olfactory implants in disgust. Kaledra's irreverence was starting to irritate him now, though he made no outward sign that would belie his rising frustration.*

Well aren't we the walking clich├â┬®?

*The man clearly had no personal ambition and seemed to exist to do little more than further the cause of the Sith. Such a sad existance, Neca mused, being the thrall of an abstract concept and a slave to tradition. Drawing his thoughts back to the discussion at hand he answered.*

I'm here because I want to be. Perhaps recruit a follower or two to assist me with my great plan. When looking for friends one should first look amongst like minded individuals, no?

*He paused for a moment*

Oh, and it's Darth Neca by the way. You'd do well to remember that.

*Kaldera gave a soft scoff at Neca's comments, but let them pass. It was obvious neither of them were going to be friends and, aside from killing each other over words, it was best to simply let them slide for now. Instead, Kaldera focused more on the prospect of the Kel Dor actually having some kind of "Great Plan".*

And what is this plan that you have in mind?

Oh, the usual. I want my planet back. However, being effictively destitute hinders me somewhat...

*Neca slumped further back into his seat. Kaledra's interest seemed genuine; perhaps recruitment was on the cards. It would be interesting to see if the young Sith could put aside his frankly irrational dislike of the narcissistic Darth to see the potential opportunity that Neca was presenting by being so open.*

Once I have the requisite guns and erm, willing subjects to command it should prove to be a most entertaining little jaunt!

*Typical. The would-be Darth only wanted power for himself instead of the greater good of the Galaxy. Kaldera mentally shrugged. It was to be expected. Though, the thought began to creep into the back of his mind...what would this elder Sith do once he claimed what had once been his. Deciding that subtlety had never been something the two men shared, Kaldera blatantly asked.*

And, upon claiming your guns and men, and taking back what you were once too weak to keep hold of, then what will you do?

*Neca laughed, the deep guttural noise reverberated around the cantina and drew more than a few nervous glances. Eventually his laughter subsided and he replied*

What will I do? Why, whatever takes my fancy. Such is the privilege that should be afforded to a God incarnate!

*Neca predicted Kaledra's inevitable scepticism and before he could utter his likely very witty response he carried on*

I have heard rumours pertaining to a cult that venerates beings that reside within hyperspace. It's utter nonsense, frankly, but if these idiots are going to devote themselves to something it might as well be me...

*Kaldera had to use extreme discipline to hold in the laughter that was building in his chest. While he was all for the manipulation of weaker masses to further one's goals, the fact that this was a crazed cult that would, no doubt, begin holding Neca in a God-like light was simply absurd! But, alas, he didn't want to show his true feelings this time around, feeling positive that no good would come of it. However, he did feel the need to address one thing...*

So, you haven't planned very far ahead is what your saying.

*Kaldera personally felt that one should have a true end goal, a goal worthy of dedicating your entire life to achieving...and apparently, Neca's was simply to regain his lost property. Kaldera gained a look of disapproval as he took another sip of his hot tea, which by now Neca would no doubt notice should be cold by now...*

*Despite no outward signs, judging by the way the conversation had gone thus far, Neca knew that Kaledra was doing all he could to keep himself from crumbling into a laughing mess. Neca could hardly blame him, the way he conducted himself was the anathema of what a Sith should strive to be. He was crass, irreverent and a tad effeminate.

Regardless, the young one had no idea of how deep Neca's schemes ran. But then, that in itself was all part of the old man's grand design. Plot and counter plot interwove in a vast tapestry so complex that even Neca himself struggled to grasp at times. He was, truth be told, more than a little mad. Not that it mattered. Quite the contrary in fact- he found it rather helped.*

You can think that if you wish. But you're not stupid- you know full well that isn't the case. Carry on like that and that place in my mighty, world-stomping empire I had earmarked for you may well just disappear.

*Kaldera thought a moment on Neca's response, having surprisingly stopped drinking of his tea. While he knew full well he wasn't stupid, he contemplated whether Neca was smart enough to ever achieve getting his own world back, much less a full scale Galactic Empire. But, the self-proclaimed Darth had lived this long, so he obviously had some kind of intelligence to him. Setting his tea cup down on its plate, Kaldera leaned forward and placed his elbows on the edge of the table, intertwining his fingers as he did so.*

And what sort of "place" did you have in mind for some...how did you put it? Ah yes, "irritate pretentious fool" if my memory serves.

*Neca could barely contain his excitement. The fish had taken the bait, now all he had to do was reel him in.*

Just because you're a pretentious little clich├â┬® doesn't exclude you from being useful. Running an organisation, be it a company or an empire, cannot be done by an individual. Regardless of how wonderful, charismatic and intelligent that individual is. It requires a group of powerful, strong willed individuals working together towards a singular goal within the bounds of a strict structure. In short: you are powerful and have a strong sense of self. I admire these traits and would see you rewarded for them with the freedom to chose your place in my resurgent empire.

*The old Sith slowly got to his feet and stretched a little in an effort to loosen his frozen joints. He dropped a credit chip on the table and headed for the exit.*

That should cover the tea and... trouble. If you want in I shall be aboard my vessel for the next hour or so. She's sat in hanger C-02, look for the Intrepid Despot.

*Just as he was about to leave Neca stopped and called to Kaledra.*

This is a onetime deal, my friend. If you chose not to take me upon my offer, don't expect me to play nice the next time we meet.

*With that, Neca slipped out of the bar and down the long, thin corridor that lead to the hanger bay. His clanging footfalls growing ever more quiet until they were swallowed up by the background hum of the patrons of the Drunk Side.*

*As Neca placed the credit chip on the table and left, Kaldera remained for a long while. The prospect of creating a new empire from scratch was interesting, whether for the challenge alone or the power he couldn't quite decide. However, the new coming of an all Sith Empire, while insulting as it was, still no doubt held far more knowledge within its foundations then Neca could possibly ever comprehend.*

*It was some time more before Kaldera finally came to a decision. Getting up slowly from the table, his tea having finally gotten cold, he slid his helmet over his head and exited the cantina.*

*Entering the cantina a moment or so before the rest of her group, Nicolina surreptitiously checks out the other patrons present as she heads to the bar to gain a picture of the layout of the cantina itself and an idea of what kind of patrons are present and what their general mood might be.

Ordering a bottle of cheap but strong Dodbri whiskey and asking for four glasses, Nicolina pays for the bottle when it arrives and then takes it and the glasses to a table near the bar where X-man, Cranky and En-Cee-Oh will spot her easily and sits down to wait for them to show.*

*Walking into the cantina like a kriff sir he sees Nicolina with four glasses and walks over to her. Pulling out the seat he sat down on it and felt the wooden seat give a little as it struggled to hold the weight of both him and his armour. Taking out his own flask, which he had taken to carrying since his encounter on Roon; he poured it into one of the shot glasses that he took for himself and downed it.* Damn thats good stuff, so what do you see?

*Looking around the rather full bar he sized up a few men. Many were obviously spacers, the way they stuck to themselves or a handful of others. The card players in the corner probably didnt know much of anything besides what they have heard. He kept looking using his hi sense eyes to zoom in and out on people looking for tells of manual labour or other things.*

*Nicolina looks around the cantina and sniffs when asked what she sees,* "Nothing to write home about. *Leaning forward after pouring a shot for herself, Nicolina says in a hushed voice,* Problem with the Big O's plan is that it's too imprecise. We start making noise there's no guarantee all we'll draw out of the woodwork aren't just some regular old non-sensitive grunts that Darth Emo sends to check things out or, best case scenario, maybe a little Sithling looking to earn his stripes is sent to show how dark he can go, right? Long odds if we want Fey, yo? I say we comm the ship, have 'em start monitoring local comm traffic, see if they can't pick up anything worthwhile. Meanwhile, when Cranky and the Big O show up, we split up and mingle here, see if we can learn anything about the lay of the land. Maybe have Cranky say she's looking to be Darth Cranky, wants to know where to go to sign up for taking being a big, bad, evil lord of Sith 101. *Shrugging, Nicolina says,* That might get us a place to hit worth hitting, might not. If we turn up the big zilch we can always go with the Big O's make noise and see what kind of action we get. We could, *she looks around the cantina again, assessing the layout,* always take this dump over, send the locals packing and hold here until we see what we've drawn out to play. We could make a good stand here, plenty of cover, not many entry points to watch. We get in too deep, the Hope could always play cavalry and extract us."