Log:All Right, Hear Me Out Here...
Phase one complete. Standing under the glaring suns of Tatooine, Rax squints up at the sun. He's bought new clothing, to replace the blood-soaked leathers he was wearing on Serenno, but it's clear as he stands there that he doesn't belong in the searing light. Or the heat. Tugging on his collar, the swordsman strides toward the street exit of the landing pad, willing to endure a short stopover before executing Phase Two of his ransom plan. The Infiltrator is tucked away into a cheap hangar, and Rax needs some time on the ground after trying to fly the damn thing.
Narrowing his eyes, he clenches his hands into fists, head tilted forward as he prepares to brave Mos Eisley, sword on his back and blaster at his hip.
Sand. How he hated it. Sand worlds were the absolute worst of the lot.
Kylo Ren stood by, off of a small alleyway, with a blue-skinned Rodian giving him weaseling an extra thousand credits out of him. Or, trying to, at least. Intimidating Rodians was about as difficult as getting annoyed by sand. "You'll take the deal we agreed upon, or I'll alter the deal," Kylo warns. The Rodian takes the hint and promptly leaves with his credits and his life. It was a good deal. That's when Kylo slips from the alleyway. In the square, he pauses for a moment to focus on something.
Striding from the star port, his lightning-colored eyes significantly less impressive in the glaring sunlight, Rax glares as he glances about. Clearly gearing up for some posturing and authority-establishing among the other lowlifes that called Mos Eisley home, Rax is stopped cold by the apparition before him, across the sandy plaza. His eyes go wide. He can't help it. Of all the things he had prepared himself to see, the Man in the Black Mask had been among the very last.
But the look of naked surprise lasts only a moment. In the span of time it takes him to take in a single, long breath, Rax's expression relaxes...into an easy grin. Sliding his scabbard slowly off his back, Rax draws the green crystal blade without a word, simply watching the dark warrior across the distance. The Tatooine sand puffs upwards as his scabbard hits the plaza floor, and Rax whirls the blade, holding before him in both hands.
Calling out in a hard, clear voice, the pirate can't stop himself from grinning as he speaks, "It's too bad we had to meet like this, stranger... I'd hoped I'd have a working lightsaber by the time we met again." He shrugs, just smiling that satisfied smile, "But this poor blade will have to do."
"You're no Jedi," Kylo responds, turning slightly to square off against the man and his sword. Kylo considers him for a quick moment. "You have something of mine--I've come to see it returned," he offers quickly. The formless face of the mask did well to conceal whatever remained beneath it, but the modulated voice was cold and lacking in feature. Each word was emphasized only as much as neccessary. Like a business transaction, and one he had no emotional interest in.
"You're right. I'm not." When no battle is forthcoming, Rax's look of joy fades into cold neutrality. Slowly rising from his battle stance, he keeps the sword before him, tip lowered toward the ground. "I was about to send you the price tag. But since you've come to negotiate, lets talk." He nods aside, "She's a beautiful ship. How much is she worth to you?"
Holding up a hand quickly, Rax narrows his eyes, "We both know you have...powers. But I am not an unreasonable man. Let us talk, and see where this goes." He grins, his eyes widening with battle lust, "When we both possess lightsabers once again, then, perhaps, we can have a different sort of conversation."
"I have a thousand ships," Kylo says quietly, "Why would I need another?" The voice carries thoughtfully towards the man, as Kylo's head shifts only slightly to the side, as if to study Rax.
"There was something on that ship. Something I no longer sense," he declares coldly, bringing the conversation to a dangerous point. "You're going to tell me who took it," he demands calmly, "Or, I will find out who took it from you anyway. Then, we can discuss what to do about the ship."
"The Cube!" Rax's eyes grow wide in disbelief. "You're here for the Cube! But why?" Then his eyes slowly narrow, turning his head as he inclines it, "*That* was the Relic you were referring to, with the Gauvian Death Gang." Dipping his head, he grimaces as he whirls the sword to his side. "Yeah, I know who took it." He smiles a bit, "Nice mask, by the way. Love the vocoder."
Rax twirls his sword slowly, "I've got your info... But I wanted to test your blade, not your..." He starts to gesture vaguely, feigning ignorance... But then the pirate suddenly drops the act. His face is stone. "You wield the Force. I don't. But I do not break easily. So make it worth my while and I'll just tell you."
He shrugs a bit, "I've played this game for a long time. I know when it's time to deal."
"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. Thanks to your friends, there is no blade to test," Kylo declares, raising his hands at his sides as if to show he was unarmed. They both knew that wasn't the case.
"But then, there is the brat's lightsaber. So weakly constructed I couldn't bear to carry it with me--But, stronger than a shard of glass," Kylo says, slightly mocking the sword the man carried. "The name of your co-conspirator and his whereabouts. Then, you retrieve the 'cube' for me, and the brat's poorly-made lightsaber is yours," he offers.
"You can't imagine my disappointment." Listening to the rest of the offer, Rax considers the words, retrieving his scabbard from the desert sands in the meantime. Tipping it over to dump out any grains that have fallen in, he chuckles a bit, "You're wasting your time insulting my sword." He snaps the blade into the scabbard smartly. "Thing is garbage." He grins, "Your offer is a good one, and I respect that. But if I'm expected to give up her identity, AND her location, AND then *also* retrieve the Cube for you? I'll need credits. Lots of them. She's a businesswoman. And she's deadly lethal. I'll have to negotiate for the cube...and she'll know that I told you. I guarantee it."
Rax upnods, "Counter-offer. You know who I am. Or, at least, I'd hope you do by now, considering how fast you got here. I'm not exactly the hiding type. We part ways here, without me giving you the data. Instead, I encode it, and keep it entrusted to a neutral party. I never told you a thing, and there's no memory of me doing so either." He grins, "Then, I negotiate for the cube. I don't think she wants...whatever was inside it. I think it was more a curiosity to her. It can be purchased."
"What Thieves do amongst themselves isn't my concern," he says, rolling his shoulders a moment. "I take the name, find them myself, and take their life. Then, I return for yours," Kylo says quickly. He turns slightly to get a better angle on their scene--Preventing the mouse from running, perhaps. "I suggest you accept, before you lose the ability to speak," he says. Kylo straightens some, coming to his full height. He wanted off this world, and his patience was thinning.
Rax smirks. He nods slowly. "...You are an excellent pirate, sir. So be it. His name is..." The words trail off into an awkwardly long silence. Rax glances aside, and then up and to the side. The grin fades, and Rax looks a little confused. "It's..." His brow furrows, and he holds up a hand, looking at the masked warrior, "All right, hear me out here... I can describe him -really- well, and he lives on Nar Shaddaa. Older man..." Rax gives quite a detailed description of Jictor, including his mannerisms, his strange purple goo-lightning gun, turns of phrase.
Eventually, Rax spreads his hands outwards, "You had stormtroopers there. Surely ONE of them saw the old man running around. He was the one who shot the...blaster bolt." Rax grimaces faintly. "The one you...froze." It still chills his blood, even now. "You were looking right at him."
For a moment, it seems almost as though Kylo were frozen in time. Thoughts muddle through his head quickly, though it would be impossible to tell outwardly. However, the subtle way his hands curl and clench in the leather gloves is slightly unnerving. Just when it seems as though the tension may snap with Kylo exploding in a fit of rage, he begins to walk. Dust and sand billow around him with each angry step onward. "Apology accepted," he offers in passing. It was, apparently, the information he required.
Rax exhales. He didn't even realize how long he'd been holding it until after the fact. Watching the storm of sand billow about the departing warrior, Rax's eyes narrow. Fear turns to envy. His voice is quiet as he addresses the distant figure's back, with words meant only for his own ears. "...Perhaps next time, stranger." A shiver runs through him, and Rax turns sharply, regaining his composure. Ships on fire. The hard vacuum of space. The cold silence of a cell. Those were physical things, things he could fight. But wizards... The Force... Those were very different things indeed.
And so Rax turns...and walks away.