A Forced Hand

[Talus Morid]

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

Talus looked at her with no small amount of amusement in his eyes. There was something funny to him about how fiercely she looked at him at the moment, as if she were planning to slit his throat from ear to ear. In truth he would have been impressed with the act, at least a little bit.

Silence reigned within the cockpit, the only sound being the constant droning of the engines.

"My people are exiles." He would give no great monologue, not for her, not for now. When he had gone to the Sith they had made him speak, tell them where he was from and what he was doing there. Torture worked on everyone differently. On Talus it had only brought to the surface what he had already known. Pain, suffering, it was a part of the power within him. It was what drove him and what would ultimately bring him what he desired.

He knew that.

Slowly the Kiffar squatted in front of his prey. "Four hundred years ago we were expelled from society for something one of my Ancestors did."

Just what that was he actually had no idea, none of the Elders did either. It was a secret that had long ago been forgotten.

 

[Lief]

His voice broke through the air, the sound of it jarring.

It was a simple statement, though the sentiment behind it was one she could appreciate whether he knew it or not. She understood what it was to be shunned, by your people, those around you, maybe not to the same degree - it was not her entire family who had faced such, only herself - but in some small capacity. But in her eyes it did not explain anything, not truly. No one thing defined a person or their actions, if he wanted to get hung up on what other people thought of him and his then he was welcome to but she found that to be a very tiring way to live indeed.

He knelt down before her, predator before his supposed prey, continuing his thoughts though she knew he was holding back more than he was putting out. For her part she continued to glare, and as he brought himself closer she did as she wished she'd been able to when she was hanging from his grasp.

Reaching right down to her boot she pulled free the knife which hid there and in the same motion brought it swinging out toward him. She was aiming for his neck, specifically the carotid artery, but honestly she'd be happy if she just got a glancing blow on arm if he was quick enough to react.

She was done playing his games.

[member="Talus Morid"]

 

[Talus Morid]

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

The blade swiped forward, but before it could strike through his neck Talus leaned back slightly.

A bite of metal slid through his skin, cutting into the flesh of his cheek and drawing blood in an instant. The wound cut deep, right below his qukuuf on the right side of his face. It seemed to bisect the scar that was already settled onto his face. The smile that had been painted on his face did not go away as he felt the durasteel etch his skin, in fact the corners of his lips seemed to curl even more.

His hand shot up with that same speed as it had before, the power filling him. Fueled by a rage born of pain.

Fingers sought her wrist on the reverse stroke of her blade, knowing that she would come for him again.

This had always been a possibility. He had never searched her, never bothered to disarm her. A part of Talus had expected this, no, that was wrong, he had wanted this. Entertainment. That was what he needed on this little flight, and whether she knew it or not she had just provided that.

Poor thing.

 

[Lief]

Though the man leaned back, her forward swipe was still met with resistance as the sharp blade tore through the flesh of his cheek.

Once upon a time, she'd done similar to a Cathar back on The Wheel. She'd been a child then, barely nine years old, but he'd backed her into a corner while she was working one of Luh's casino's and the first thing she'd gotten her hands on had ended up stuck in his face. Back then she'd frozen in fear and disgust as the ruddy ichor of life ran down the mans cheek. As he screamed loud enough to draw the attention of the old Hutt's bodyguards.

She'd gotten into more trouble than the Cathar in the end, but looking back it had been worth it.

This time Kal didn't freeze.

She pulled back once the initial motion was complete, fully intent on dragging it deeper through his cheek, her eyes alight with a primal fury. Her wrist was grabbed, ceasing the motion before it fully came to be and forcing a growl from her lips as she fought against his grip. Her breathing was ragged, desperation wrought over every inch of her body except for her scowl-ridden face. Muscles were tense, anxious to bolt, but his grip was vice-like.

[member="Talus Morid"]

 

[Talus Morid]

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

Contests of strength had never really been his game, not among his tribe anyway. His brothers had always been more interested in that, but for Talus they had always been too...brutish. There was a benefit to them of course, it made the hunt easier, it made the struggle of prey less obtrusive. He had always preferred to use the power though.

Rather than raw muscle, he used the strength that came most naturally to him.

In an instant a raw wave of red washed over him, the power flooding into his veins and filtering through his body. The Kiffar's pupils seemed to stretch and grow, inky black quickly expanding and consuming the pale yellow that normally sparked his eye. The darkness spread until it consumed even the white, leaving Kalyn only a dark abyss to stare into. Lips seemed to curl into a grin, and then suddenly an odd sort of red aura sprang to life around his fingertips.

Instantly she would feel a searing burn within her skin.

There was no heat to his touch, no real fire, but it burned all the same. It ate away at cloth and flesh all the same.

 

[Lief]

The way in which his eyes disappeared into the inky abyss of pure darkness brought about by his pupils gave the girl serious pause.

Her mind jumped back to another chance meeting onboard a battlecruiser; she'd gone there in search of work, one of her old contacts insisting it was the best place for them to meet, but when what she'd later discovered to be a trafficker pulled her from her path and into a booth things went from bad to worse. Much in the same way she'd been hijacked from her own ship to fly this damn freighter.

He who had eventually disposed of the trafficker turned into a far worse manifestation of greed and sin than the criminal, a demon in every sense of the word. Like the stranger who held her wrist firm, his eyes had also been pools of sulfur, though the things he'd been capable of far eclipsed what was happening now.

Or so she had thought, right up until the moment when the tendrils of red formed around the fingertips of her antagonizer.

Right before the pain spread over her skin, rending the clothes from her back and searing deep into her flesh. She tried, at first, to hold it back, that primal scream which was borne from such agony, she ground her teeth and swallowed it down until her mind became hazy and it seized the chance to break free.

It came out as more of a howl than anything else, the sound of a spirit broken in one fell and unexpected swoop.

[member="Talus Morid"]

 

[Talus Morid]

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

Pain was sweet. It was a nectar unlike any other. It's infliction, it's escalation, it's stunning resolution. There was something about it that Talus found almost endearing in a way. Perhaps it was because he'd suffered so much pain himself.

He had been tortured at the hands of the Sith, beaten by his tribe, and thrown into the wastes by his kin. Talus had suffered through life, but always he had endured. Always he bad crawled to the edge of survival and thrown himself over it's glorious cliffs. Black eyes watched as the girl reeled back and screeched in horrific pain, her face contorting and her eyes closing as the power began to slowly peel away her skin. The etching of his fingers would mark her arm, cutting and burning his print into her.

It was a simple thing really, the power he held. It was natural and divine, granted to him by the patron of his Tribe.

The inky abyss of his eyes suddenly collapsed in on themselves, pale yellow and bright white reemerging as the power ceased and the red glow around his palm flashed out of existence. Just as quickly as it had started the pain would be gone. His hand would remain however, the flesh beneath it raw, red, and bleeding.

He said nothing.

 

[Lief]

She seemed to shrink in on herself as the agony continued.

Her body shifted and convulsed, fighting to get free from the searing pain, her eyes were clenched tightly shut and teeth were treated similarly. Those cries she'd exhibited were forced back inside, turning into far softer whimpers as she fought to keep at least a modicum of control. She wasn't weak, she couldn't be, though her present affliction was making it really difficult to be anything but.

Even when the worst of it began to wane she trembled beneath him, the arm which remained within his grasp the only part of her still aloft. She had slumped down, face averted from his view, though surprisingly her hand still held the handle of the knife as though her life depended on it.

At this point that wasn't really a conscious decision. She clung to it, unwilling to be separated to that last bit of control she had. Fingers vice-like.

"No more" she breathed, though the words were hardly audible at all and spoke volumes to her wounded state, "Please, no more..."

[member="Talus Morid"]

 

[Talus Morid]

[member="Kalyn Shif"]

He made no attempt to remove the knife from her hand, he didn't need to.

Control was never about who had the best weapon. It was never about who had the knife or the blaster. It was about who could project the most power. Pale yellow eyes stared down at the girl, expression as blank as could be. The smile that he had been wearing just a few seconds ago was completely wiped away. The Tattoos on his face, the decorative qukuuf that were usually so full of life seemed dead on his features. The blood on his cheek slowly poured down the side of his face.

"On Kiffu we are rejects." Talus continued exactly where he had left off in his story, as if her little interruption had meant less than nothing to him. It was a subtle nudge, a way of showing the girl that to him she was less than an insect. She was not even the prey to his predator. She was simply there.

That was it.

"That Exile taught my tribe many things." He shrugged his shoulders. "Things that are hidden from me."

For now anyway.

 

[Lief]

He was a confusing one, this Kiffar who first had reprimanded her for talking too much yet now was seemingly answering the questions she'd brought to the table. Nothing she'd done, or attempted to do, veered him from his storytelling path, so as she knelt there with one arm locked up in his grasp, still holding that blasted knife, all that Kal could really do was listen.

She did not know enough about her heritage to deduce the reasons that they might have been exiled. Some societies, she'd discovered, were very particular, they had their codes and their ethics and their traditions and if broken... Well, apparently it could hinder even future generations.

Kal didn't think that was very fair. You were not responsible for the actions of your predecessors, yet in some places you had to pay for it all the same.

Was her Father outcasted? Was that why he'd never visited? Why Kal had never been sent for? Why she hadn't been able to find information on her tribe?

It seemed as though he wanted answers of his own. In that moment, even with the power struggle and all that had transpired to lead her to this point, she couldn't actually blame him. She'd want the same... Wanted the same. Would she stoop so low as to kidnap a pilot along the way? Not at all likely, but then again she could get herself wherever she wanted without issue.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that wasn't the case for everyone.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, under her breath, in all sincerity, fingertips relaxing their grip on the knife which proceeded to clatter down against the floor. Attacking him hadn't been her best idea, it didn't help to stoop to such a level. Not yet, at least, not while he still needed her alive. Now she'd all but exhausted her options. Now it was mostly just a ticking time bomb, counting down to her end.

Her eyes fell to the consoles, the long distance comms were silent and the ship itself continued to hold steady along the lane.

It was very likely nobody was coming.

[member="Talus Morid"]