The Rebel Faction

"Perhaps, once."

He shook his head in self chastisation.

"You can call me the cosmic jester now."

The words were said with all the seriousness and conviction of a holopreacher. He was not bitter, just something strange that the other could not place. As the man bowed in the wrong direction, Dakkon knew he was, in escence, taking the piss.

"Its not nice to be condescending to someone you've just met."

The treeman got no reaction from his snigger, but his comment about bleeding hearts caused the slightest of flinches. But even worse was the fact that it was followed up by the other probing him.

That @#%$ is searching for weakness.

His reaction was typically defensive, a flare of anger sending a pulse of the force away from him, slightly stunning the Others senses. Dakkons hands moved up in a automatic gesture, but he held himself in check.

"Stupidity tends to be ones greatest obsticle in any endeavour, and thats no more true here, friend."

Mother @#%$!

The low blow bit deep, but Dakkon was in fighting mode now. Never once had he been talked down to without giving back. Even Emperor Fearsons had come to fear his apprentices sharp tongue.

"I think a little from colomn A, a little from colomn B.

Or maybe you're just an ass hole."

Concise, lacking in intelligence perhaps, but it certainly delievered his point home. This guy was getting in his face, and there was nothing he liked better.