I laid down on a cot, propping my arm up on a crate. I used the Force to drag the kid across the room to rest in my lap. The Jedi stood up, reaching for their lightsabers menacingly, but a glare from me silenced them as I took their threat a step forward and ignited a one of my lightsabers' ruby blades with my left hand.
But I couldn't help but admit to myself that I knew how they felt. If I saw a Jedi even looking at Blood meanly, they would be dead meat.
Shrugging off their glowers, I put two fingers to the Padawan's neck, pressing as hard as I could. First, there was nothing, just as before.
But, the more I concentrated, the more I could make out slow vibrations coming from his artery in a shaky, uncertain pattern.
He was alive.
I looked at a Jedi and nodded at her, still glaring slightly to let her know that I was by no means their ally.
Nonetheless, I couldn't help but feel good as I saw their relieved faces. I shook my head, mentally cursing myself. This wasn't like me.
I shoved the boy to the floor, mentally grinning as the others scurried over like Jedi rats to pick him up. This was more like it.
Satisfied, I resigned myself to looking out the window.
And I immediately wished I hadn't.
"COURASCANT?!" I shouted at them. I immediately leapt to my feet, my metal arm jerking back to life.
"Are you INSANE?!" I yelled at the pilot, grabbing for my knife. But it was too late.
We touched down onto a large platform, and a small group of Jedi hurried out of the Jedi Temple. I seriously considered jumping into the sea of traffic below me.
"Missed, you have been," a scratchy voice sounded from just below me, and I looked down to see a tiny green midget waddling over towards the Jedi refugees. I drew my hood over my face, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. And retreated to the far end of the platform.
But the teen, now conscious, limped over to me.
"Thanks for saving me," his voice croaked from lack of use, but it was firm as Windu's—though his eyes, quite contrarily, blinked out at my playfully. He reminded me a bit of Blood.
But only a bit.
"No big deal," I kept my voice low and quiet, edging my lightsabers under my cloak. I knew that there was no chance he would be like this if he knew what I was.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Jedi that I had just rescued motioning towards me, drawing their lightsabers determinedly.
"You traitor!" I yelped when I realized what they were doing, shoving the teen back into the crowd of Jedi and promptly launching myself off the edge of the landing platform.
Count Dookou was angry, which scared Blood.
What scared him even more was the fact that he was holding it in with a smile. The fact that he was smiling was frightening in itself.
"Master," Blood began cautiously, "DeathRain is gone, kidnapped by the Jedi… with all due respect, sir, why are you smiling?"
"Because, BloodLust," Dookou grinned. "She shall play an important part in my plan."
The blonde-haired teen's jaw dropped. That was never good.
"But… what is she doing out there?" He asked, pausing a bit before rushing to add a respectful "sir" on the end of the sentence.
"You shall see, my apprentice…" snarled the Count, "you shall see…"
Falling through the air to my death, I had never felt so alive.
The colours of various models and brands if speeders whipped by me, and I was able to do incredible aerial feats that could never be done on ground.
Finally, I spotted what—or who—I was looking for.
Elan Sleazebango.
He was always flying around on his flame-red speeder, looking for passengers he never found and buyers for illegal drugs and weapons that no one needed.
I landed with a metallic thump on the back of his speeder and clawed my way up to sit behind him. The vessel fell for a moment, and it took a moment for the dealer to regain control—but when he did, he was furious. He turned to look at me with a deep scowl, which quickly turned to a grin when he saw who I was.
"DeathRain!" he cried out, losing focus for a split second almost crashing into a bright green speeder.
"Eyes on the skies, Elan," I smirked at him, my eyes gleaming as I enjoyed the company only a Sith could enjoy.
"What can I do for you today, Rain?" Elan swerved to avoid a landing fighter as he descended into the Courascant underworld, the only place that would be generally void of Jedi.
"Nothing much," I shrugged, idly gazing out at the rainbow of transports that swirled around me, "just shelter for a bit. A group of stinking Jedi are after me."
"Got yourself on the 'Most Wanted' list again?" Elan grinned, "How do you know when a Jedi's near?"
I laughed at him—he had brought back our old inside joke.
"You'll smell them before you see them," I snickered as Elan's red speeder touched down on a small, sketchy platform on one of the lowest levels.
I let the smile fade from my face as I stepped out, my friend close behind, and drew the cowl of my cloak over my hair letting the shadow engulf the upper part of my face.
Elan led me into a sleazy bar called "Death by Gundark". How encouraging.
As I strode into the barely lit room, I remembered the first time I had met Elan.
It was a long time ago, in a tavern not unlike the one I was in now. I was only twelve, and Elan had been around seventeen or so. I had entered the bar, slipping around the multitudes of beings that were crammed into the tiny building.
Then Elan had showed up.
"Hey, kid," he'd leaned over to me, reaching inside his long jacket, "do you want some Death Sticks?"
"No," I had smirked slyly, 'but I bet that the Jedi in here will."
"Jedi?" he'd whirled around, terrified, undoubtedly expecting to see a lightsaber pointed at his face. "How do you know a Jedi is near?"
"Because you can smell one before you see one," I'd replied wryly, nodding towards the cloaked man sitting at the counter that was carelessly letting his lightsaber show.
Elan had winked at me gratefully, sliding me his card before he pushed his way to the knight to offer him some Death Sticks. Not long after, he had come back my way, looking very confused and mumbling something about rethinking his life. After that, a bounty hunter by the name of Zam Wessel caused some… problems.
But, needless to say, Elan most definitely did not rethink his life.
"Rain," Elan whispered to me, snapping me out of my reminiscing, "Should I take care of this for you? Or do you think—"
"First of all," I hissed back, interrupting him, "Call me DeathRain. I'm more recognized by Rain."
Elan nodded, swallowing nervously despite the fact we'd been friends for years. Smart guy.
"Second of all," my expression turned from one of malice to a cheeky smirk. "I've got this." I punched my friend playfully on the shoulder before treading up to the man at the counter. I slapped a couple of credits on the table.
"I need accommodations," I snarled as he grabbed the money.
"Why?" he raised an eyebrow skeptically, greed shining in his eyes as he fingered the currency.
"Like I'm gonna tell you," my voice changed to a low growl, but inside I was as tense an nobody's business—I hadn't done this sort of thing in a while.
"The way you talk makes you sound as if you'd be worth a pretty price to the Jedi." He grinned, slinking out from behind the counter.
I went pale.
The few people who were actually in the bar stood, and I backed towards the center of the room as the bounty hunters and pirates circled around me like hungry sharks.
"Elan," I hissed through my teeth to the twenty-year-old, who was just behind me, "get back to your speeder. This is going to get graphic."