The Art of Death


11-05-2011 01:26:39

OOC:Restricted to Fremoc and Mirado, and those who later become invited.

The Spike

It had been some time since he had been to Tarthos, but now that he was the Fist of the Brotherhood, he barely had time to return to see his family. His cousin Mirado had heard of the incident that had occurred with Angelo Dante, and figured it was time for him to help Fremoc learn some things from him. He stood outside the large spire known as The Spike, as he watched the younger L'eonheart brother walk towards him.

"Cousin! How have you been?" asked Mirado as he approached.

"I've seen better days," his muscles were aching from his training, but also his chest was still burning from the burn mark caused by the Dark Lord himself. He turned and led his cousin into the Spike, and towards a door. The two Guardsmen nodded to their Commander as well as the Trainee that was following him. The door opened to the turbolift that accessed the training grounds for the Royal Guard beneath the ground. The two Pepoi entered the turbolift, and Fremoc punched a code into the keypad.

"Access granted," said a female voice, and immediately the turbolift dropped, bringing the two men to the third sub-level. The doors opened allowing the Pepoi to step out before shutting again.

"You are lucky cousin. Only a few have been able to get this low in the Spike. The only way you got down here was because you were with me."

"I understand. Shall we begin?"

"Indeed. Everyone else is currently upstairs helping train new recruits." The older Pepoi smirked as he was about to be taught techniques to be an assassin, even though he was Muz's Alpha Assassin and Enforcer.


11-05-2011 13:44:16

Chapter One - To become a Murderer
“Assassination has never changed the history of the world”

Mirado pointed towards one of the conference rooms and just began walking that way. He had a lot to say, so he was storing his daily allotment of words for the task ahead. Content to accepting his cousin’s tutelage, Fremoc followed, noticing his heels clicked where Mirado’s didn’t, so he adjusted his pace and step, silencing his own footsteps.

Once inside the conference room, Mirado pulled a chair out, but didn’t sit down. Instead, he filled a pitcher with water, and grabbed two cups from the service cabinet. Finally, he sat down, and waited on Fremoc to sit as well, before finally beginning to talk.

“You have all of the skills necessary to be a real assassin. No one can argue it. Training with sundry weapons, explosives, stealth, infiltration, all that good commando drek.” The Miraluka said, leveling his eyeless gaze at his cousin.

“You finally noticed?” Fremoc cracked, taking a drink of his water. “I thought you didn’t care.”

Mirado shook his head and continued. “Everything’s there, but it’s in the wrong places. I did some digging, found out what your job entails.”

“Ok, you really didn’t care,” Fremoc said sourly.

“Well, I do now, because if you’re going to actually BE Muz’s assassin, you need to know how to do the job. That’s why I dropped everything on Aeotheran and flew out here.” Mirado pointed out, reminding his cousin of the work he’d recently been handed with the raising of a new house within Naga Sadow, rightfully clanned again.

When Fremoc just looked at him, Mirado took a drink, and continued. “I came out here to teach you how to use your skills, how to apply them, and how to do it without getting caught.”

“Alright guru, let’s begin.” Fremoc said, a testament to his self-discipline and dedication.

- The Spike
- An Hour Later

Mirado and Fremoc walked through the sub-level of the Spike, when Mirado, out of nowhere, pointed to one of the Royal Guard, and said “Give you a thousand credits to kill him.”

Fremoc paused, wondering why Mirado wanted him to kill Reiden Karr. When Mirado made an odd smirk, he spoke up. “Why?”

“You know what sets a good assassin apart from a great one?” Mirado asked, pausing to lean against a wall. From the sleeve of his robes, he produced a red fruit, and began carving slices off with a small knife.

“The great ones never ask questions.” Fremoc said, remembering the lack of intel on why he, as a commando, ever did any of the tasks assigned to he and his team.

“On the contrary,” Mirado replied, handing Fremoc a slice of fruit. “The good ones don’t ask questions, the great ones do, but there’s only certain questions they’ll ask.”

“Like?” Fremoc asked around a mouthful of fruit. He recognized the flavor as whatever it was his cousin was growing on the back end of their family compound. He’d never asked what they were, he’d just picked one now and again.

“You don’t ask why, you ask what they did. You’re never going to get the complete answer, but you get enough. Nobody who contracts a professional is looking for telling their life story, but if they want somebody dead enough they’re willing to pay for it, they tend to be more than happy to tell you what the target did to warrant it.”

“Sounds the same as asking why.” Fremoc said, taking another slice of fruit from his cousin. “What’s the difference?”

“There isn’t one, but it’s how you ask.” Mirado shrugged. “I never claimed to know how that works, I just know it does. It’s like a flushing toilet. You don’t care how it works, until it stops working.”

“So, what else do you ask?” Fremoc asked, following his cousin as they started walking again. He had the distinct feeling that Mirado was wandering aimlessly because he’d never been down here before, and wanted to sightsee.

“You discuss payment. Highball your price, they’ll negotiate. If they’re too quick to pay what you ask, you know there’s something they’re not telling you, and it’s a good sign to de-ass.”

“This is part of my job, Muz doesn’t give me bonuses for the people I eliminate.” Fremoc retorted.

“Really?” Mirado asked, a shocked look on his face. “That’s a damn shame. Still, mind your resource requests, same thing applies.”

“Ok,” Fremoc said thoughtfully. “What else?”

“Well, you never do your own initial intel gathering.” the Fist’s cousin said, splitting the last of the fruit between them. “You get everything they have on the person. The less they have, the less you want the job. Once you get all they’ve got, you follow it up, triple check everything, and make sure you’re not being taken for a ride. This is also where you make sure you’re not being hounded to make sure the job is done. Some people hire a second assassin to kill the first if the thing goes south. This is especially true if the job is something the client thinks the assassin will find distasteful if all the details come out.”

“So, if that does happen, you kill the second assassin before filling the contract?” Fremoc asked.

“Exactly. There’s times you don’t want to, but it’s a judgment call. I once tracked the second, told them what was going on, and she wound up killing the client while I robbed their house to make up the money they owed me for the contract.” Mirado said, looking faraway at the memory.

“What had happened?” Fremoc asked, curious.

Mirado just shook his head. “Years ago, doesn’t matter. Next thing you ask is timeframe. The quicker they want it done, the hotter the client’s head, or the more dire the circumstance. You can sometimes get more money out of them for it, but if they fold on that, you really need to de-ass, because they’re too desperate.”

“So, it all boils down to covering your own six, is basically what you’re saying.” Fremoc asked. When Mirado nodded, and gestured for Fremoc to elaborate, he thought for a moment, and continued. “Because, you have no support, there’s nobody to cover it for you, and there’s no guarantee there’s not a contract on your own head from a prior job.” Fremoc said, coming to the line of logic in short order.

“Every question you ask is another opportunity to find out if you’re being done wrong.” Mirado replied. “Not bad.”

“So, what kind of fruit was that anyways? It was good.” Fremoc asked after a moment.

“Kulujia cactus apple.” Mirado replied, and watched as Fremoc’s ‘aura’ in the force flashed and rippled.

“They’re highly toxic!” Fremoc said, nearly shouting. “You’re trying to kill me?”

Mirado just shook his head. “The sap and juice is toxic in distilled concentration. You’re just gonna be sicker than you’ve ever been here in about five minutes.” Mirado paused then, before continuing. “I did you a favor.”

When Fremoc’s stomach grumbled ominously, Mirado shrugged. “It’s a common toxin, and it’s a plant toxin, you can develop an immunity to those. Besides, they ARE tasty, and the poison notwithstanding, quite good for you.”

“I’m gonna find a refresher.” Fremoc said with a scowl.


30-06-2011 14:40:00

Eiko matched his gait to Fremoc's hurried steps as the Fist rushed toward the fountain. "I'll let you get a drink first, before you lose your strength."

"Quaestor Eiko." Fremoc straightened his back, pulling his shoulders back and pushing the robe away from his chest.

"Don't be stupid - drink some water," Eiko replied stiffly. "You swallow an apple like that and I wouldn't have to exert myself to kill you. And since I'm not here to kill you, I want you to drink before we start talking."

Fremoc's stare didn't drift away from the black-robed Quaestor as he let the water run off of his chin into the basin.

"I'm not above theft of information, Fist," Eiko laughed dryly. "Close the turbolift door before you put your code in."

"You're not supposed to be up here. This is for Second Echelon guardsmen."

"Should I have kept that information and sold it?" Eiko's body shifted forward one step towards Fremoc, now drying his mouth off with the back of his hand. "I don't think I've formally introduced myself to you - what with the Summit's political edgings constantly dragging everyone back and forth. My name is Eiko, and I'm head of House Revan."

"I know who you are," Fremoc grimaced. "Mirado!"

Eiko glanced over his shoulder as the other assassin started to pick up pace.

"If I'd wanted to kill you, I wouldn't have come here. If I'd wanted someone else to kill you, I wouldn't have come here."

"Why are you here?" Fremoc asked. His face was already red from irritation and growing darker as he let his hand hover for a second beside his saber.

Eiko lifted his palms toward Fremoc. "I'm here because I saw you step into the lift, key your code into the system, then shut the door. Your cousin would suggest a different question, though," Eiko spoke calmly, hesitating on the words. "If I were here to kill you - and I'm not - then who would I be working for? Whose favors would I be currying? You should know enough about me from our time on the Summit, Fist. You should know what my nature is like. Who would like to kill the Throne's assassin, hmm?"

A silence held through the empty training room as Fremoc glanced back and forth in thought. Eiko inhaled once, then stepped forward.

"I'm not an Arconan - nor am I terribly close to any of them. I'm no threat to the Throne either. If Lord Keibatsu picked you, a fellow Obelisk and a well-recognized Sadowan, I wouldn't contest that. You're at least the equal of my former master. No," Eiko shook his head lightly, "I'm not a threat to you - or your family." He tilted his head toward Mirado. "Just making good on an opportunity that I wanted to make sure reached the right side."

Eiko pulled a thin tube from the back of his bandolier, tossing it towards Fremoc as he pulled his own robe away to show the handle of a DC-15s.

"Personal work of mine... trims some of the bolt off of the blaster and cuts a good portion of the sound off. Not invisible - just a little less obvious."


11-07-2011 21:57:22

Fremoc grinned as he twisted the silencer onto the DC-15s Side Arm that was on his hip. There was someone else that Fremoc could sense in the shadows. "Lynyrd stop hiding in the shadows."

The Zabrak stepped forward and grinned, "Damn you for knowing where I am."

"You're family, and you can be found easier." Fremoc regarded Eiko once more, "Thanks for the silencer. It'll be helpful in the future. Now gents, shall we begin?" The three men looked at the Commander of the Guard. "Welcome to Guardsman training gentlemen. Pair up."