A Lesson in Darkness [Salacious Vexx]

[Darth Imperia]

Location: Nar Shaddaa's Undercity​

Key Players: Darth Vitium's Apprentice, Salacious Vexx
Objectives: Locate Dark Sider, Evaluate Potential Usefulness to the Sith. Proceed Accordingly.​

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Darth Vitium's Apprentice was not an intimidating figure, physically speaking. Standing at five feet nine inches tall and weighing an underfed one hundred and thirty pounds, there was little there to inspire fear in the common thugs that prowled the streets of Nar Shaddaa's undercity.

But to those who observed, who not only saw, but analyzed what they saw, there was all the reason in the world to be unsettled. For the hooded woman traversing the streets did so in a peculiar way - there was none of the skittishness which a typical visitor to such a locale might feel, but nor was there the arrogant swagger of someone who felt that they owned the streets upon which they trod. No. The woman gave off the impression, instead, that she was not-quite-human. That there was something alien and primal about her. She was a predator, calm and collected and on the hunt.

Her prey was unknown to her. Like her Mistress before her, the Apprentice came to Nar Shaddaa not of her own volition, but because the Dark Side, her constant companion, both her Master and her Servant, had called her there.

The Apprentice had, in her former life, spent much time on Little Coruscant. She knew its streets, its points of interest. It was a second home to her, and she felt as much affection for the Smuggler's Moon as her Mentor felt disdain for the same. And beyond that, she knew its Darkness almost as well as she knew her own. Whatever the Acolyte was looking for, she had faith that she could pick out its unique signature in the Force.

The Dark Side, after all, provided.

---

[member="Salacious Ren"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

Salacious's eyes glowed with bloodlust as he continuous pounded the Rodian's head into the concrete. The Undercity of Nar Shadaa, always a fight to be had, a challenge met, a defiant fool to defeat. The planet was one of the Acolyte's favorites. If his lust could not be slaked elsewhere, the fight rings of Nar Shadaa always did. The bets never ended, the spectators thirst to watch a man die brutally, never sated. And Salacious Vexx was happy to deliver.

The man stood and roared and beat his bloodied knuckles on his bare chest, the Rodian lying in a pool of his own blood and brain matter. The crowd roared in response. They were still hungry. Just as they'd always been. Just as he always was.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

Ah...

There it was. Lust. Rage. Hunger. A deep, primal need for blood that transcended the simple sadism that so many of Nar Shaddaa's citizens carried in their hearts. This was why she was here. Harsh yellow eyes peered out from beneath the Apprentice's black hood.

The Zabrak in the ring was...feral. Savage. There was nothing subtle about him, at least so far as the Apprentice could sense. But, she reminded herself, You are not your Mistress. You have much to learn. You musn't overestimate yourself. The ability to hide your presence in the Force, to make it appear far less impressive than it actually was, after all, was a common skill among Dark Siders, and one that the Apprentice herself needed to practice, now that she thought about it.

Keeping that in mind, the Apprentice continued her observations. The Zabrak was, admittedly, an impressive specimen, all muscle and strength and vitality. The corners of the young woman's mouth, obscured by the scarf covering said body part, curled into a small smile. If she didn't end up killing him, her quarry could prove to be an altogether...pleasant distraction from the stresses of the Galaxy. She wasn't prepared to let that passing fancy interfere with her judgement, however. She was here on Sith business, and the fact that her objective happened to be an aesthetically pleasing one was irrelevant.

Now...how to best get her quarry's attention? He seemed to the Apprentice to be the brutish type, the sort that respected strength and skill with arms over, say, intellectual capability or displays of mystical knowledge - which was convenient for her, actually. She was yet to learn much of her Mistress's arcane powers. With that in mind, the grey-skinned young woman reached within her robes, retrieving with her mechanical right arm a small, curved cylinder. It was black and silver, small enough to comfortably fit in one hand, and obviously a lightsaber.

Immediately following the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber's activation, the unfortunate soul standing in front of Vitium's Apprentice, a rodian woman, found herself bisected by the quick stroke of a bloodshine blade.

"If you insects value your infinitely meaningless lives," began the Apprentice, her words emphasized by the arcs of red lightning dancing across her left hand, "then I suggest you depart, quickly. Except you," She added, pointing her lightsaber at the Zabrak in the ring. "You stay."

---

[member="Salacious Ren"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

A snap hiss was followed by a shrill scream and a woman speaking, commanding those around her to flee...except for him. Salacious Vexx turned to the new, unexpected challenger. "How did a puny thing like you come to own a weapon of such power?" he inquired, standing defiantly. "Did you steal it like the rest of the dishonorable ones?" The new comer was small compared to him, a whole head shorter than he and less than a third his weight he guessed. He could crush her with his bare hands...or punt her off the nearest ledge.

The bloodlust hadn't quite abandoned the massive Zabrak. His chest heaved in and out, great breaths inhaled and expelled as he fought the urge to climb up to her and squeeze the life from her throat. After all she didn't seem very strong...physically or in the Force. He could barely sense her presence.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

"Did you steal it like the rest of the dishonorable ones?"

Oh, no. No, no, no. That wouldn't do. That wouldn't do at all. The Apprentice's quarry was either weak in the Force, or stupid. Or, Force forbid, he was both.

If he was simply weak in the Force, that was one thing - he couldn't sense her Presence, even after it was cultivated by her training with Darth Vitium and enhanced by Soeht's dubious 'blessing.' This implied that his Force Sense - if present at all - was rudimentary at best, a sad state of affairs that she herself was previously quite familiar with. If he was stupid, however, that was another thing altogether. It meant that he was not suitable to be a Sith, not a real Sith, at any rate. Perhaps he might become a weapon, like Vader or Maul, but beyond that, the unintelligent had no place in the ranks of the Sith.

If he was both, however, weak in the Force and Stupid, then the Apprentice had a problem. Never mind his worthiness to be a Sith - if that were the case, he'd barely be worthy to clean her boots. Brawn and a lightsaber, after all, did not a Sith make. Still...it would be foolish to kill the man outright, in any case. Every tool, no matter how damaged, had some use, even if that use was as simple as 'throw it at some enemy's head as a distraction.'

Whatever the case was, she'd decide what to do with the Zabrak in the future. At the moment, he was just another whelp to be punished for stepping out of line. With an imperious flick of her left hand and little more than a scoff of derision, Vitium's Apprentice sent an arc of blood-red lightning barreling towards her prey's chest - not enough to kill him, however - partly because she didn't want to do that, and partly because she wasn't capable of creating a single bolt so powerful. But it was certainly enough to hurt, and possibly even enough to stun the massive man, if he happened to not be as tough as he looked.

---

[member="Salacious Ren"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The lightning arced through the air, throwing crimson sparks off the the cage that separated them, and in an instant it lanced through the Zabrak's chest. The man bent forward as a quick shock of searing pain coursed through his system. But it quickly subsided. As he straightened he laughed, "Oh, that felt good." He rolled his shoulders, the muscles in his back popping as they released tension. "Not a thief." he noted. "Come join me, fight in the Cage!" he dared.

His saber had been abandoned in the staging area of the arena. No weapons were permitted in the Cage, save what you smuggled in, or picked up from the ground. But now no one watched. If the Sith brought in her saber, who was to object now? Certainly not Salacious. He'd enjoy the challenge.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

Death Waltz

---

Darth Vitium's Apprentice had an iffy history with duels - her first (and only) had resulted in great loss and pain, and so she was understandably hesitant to engage in the practice.

But as she looked to the unarmed man in the cage, then back to the saber in her hand, it spoke. It only spoke in her mind, of course - a sign of the encroaching madness that would no doubt only grow in strength as she did the same. Crush him, whispered her psyche, in a voice that she would've described as 'scandalous' if it didn't happen to be her own. He is nothing. Pathetic. Fit for life as a slave, and nothing more.

The Apprentice closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and disengaged her lightsaber. Then, she shrugged, allowing her robe to fall to the ground. What she wore underneath was more akin to a martial artist's attire than the clothing of a Sith Acolyte, but there it was - a sleeveless black top with a fairly low cut neck, trousers made of similar material, utilitarian work boots, and a belt upon which to clip her lightsaber. What was more interesting, however, was her skin. Her one organic arm, and what could be seen of her chest, were covered in scars. Some shallow, some deep, some long and some short. They adhered to a pattern which only made sense to the Sithling, crawling up and down her body like snakes on novacoke.

The Acolyte reignited her saber as she grew closer to the cage where her quarry stood, posturing like the animal that he was.

"When I best you," she began, her Coruscanti accent clearly present, but subtle, "You will bend the knee to me, or you will lose it, is that understood, boy?"

--

[member="Salacious Ren"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The woman's cloak fell away revealing her reavaged flesh and martial garments. "When your beaten you'll swallow those words, girl." The air was alive with with tension, the impending battle electrifying everything in the vicinity. A red haze seemed to cloud the Zabrak's vision, the Sith's heartbeat resounded in his ear, the warm blood in her veins radiating off her body.

A wave of his hand and the door to the cage swung open, the rusting, uncared for hinges creaking as they slowly pivoted. "Enter the ring little one."

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

Vitium's Apprentice was not, in general, very skilled in Lightsaber combat. True, she had practiced Shii-Cho on her own, observed the malignant grace ever present in her Mistress's displays of Makashi, and studied the mindset of the Djem So Practitioner - but she was still a novice. A well rounded novice, but a novice nonetheless. And even then, the Acolyte had no doubt that this would be an easy 'fight.' Not only was her opponent unarmed and unarmored, but he lacked the good sense to be wary of that fact. No, he was no Sith. He lacked even the most basic ability to control his passions. Indeed, it was the opposite- the Zabrak was little more than an animal, guided to and fro by his emotions.

Her disgust and hatred reached their tipping point as she stepped into the cage, bolstered by the scent of blood and death that permeated the grisly stage. Reaching out with her left hand, and twirling her saber casually with her right, the Acolyte immediately threw a blast of kinetic energy at her prey, the blood and internal organs that lay on the floor quivering under the force of her, well, Force.

"Weak. You are weak," spat out the Apprentice, slowly walking towards her quarry. "I thought that the Darkness brought me here to discover an ally, but it seems I was mistaken. I was brought here to dispose of vermin."

---

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The kinetic blast forced Salacious to take a step back, the push enough to stagger him. "A vermin?!" he roared. "You're but a twig to be broken. Do not speak to me of vermin." his rage slowly began to boil over. The beaten and bloodied body of the Rodian still lay before his feet. Reaching down he grabbed the corpse by the ankle and waited for the woman to approach. Surely the saber would cut the cool corpse cleanly in half.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

The Acolyte continued her approach, but didn't yet raise her saber. No - she kept her blade low and by her side, a somewhat inaccurate imitation of the Makashi starting guard. To anyone experienced in the style, it might appear quaint, but that didn't matter to the Apprentice. Because keeping her blade low, held so casually? It showed her opponent that she didn't care. He wasn't even worth the effort of raising her blade to defend herself.

That wasn't to say that she did nothing, however - her left arm still outstretched, she began to gesture towards the Zabrak's throat with a clawed hand. It was a technique that the Apprentice was sure even a lowly beast like the Zabrak was familiar with, a delightfully sadistic use of telekinesis often affectionately named the Force Choke. As with most of her Force Powers, however, she was still not exceptionally skilled in the use of Telekinesis, not that it mattered - if the Zabrak was as weak in the Force as she thought he was, then he wouldn't know the proper way to break the hold she had on him. And while it was true that she'd probably not defeat him with this power, that wasn't the point - the point was to humiliate her quarry, to show him just how weak he really was.

"I'm a twig, am I? Alright. Go ahead. Break me. Show me just how powerful you really are, arlamaâ."

--

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The Zabrak could feel a hand grasp his neck and squeeze. Not the death grip of an experienced Sith. Merely enough to make breathing difficult. Salacious would have wheezed with every breath he sucked in if he allowed himself. He wouldn't even allow the twig that satisfaction. He was a Zabrak of Dathomir! The man drew his arm back a little and pushed forward a huge kinetic blast following it. It had force, yes. But it lacked the control, the finesse of a practiced user. If the woman was capable, she may block his attack. If not, if her focus was too attached to her Force Choke, she'd slam into the cage behind herself.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

Vitium's Apprentice reacted quickly to the surprise assault by her prey. Releasing her quarry's throat, she quickly countered his Push with one of her own - it didn't hold the same raw power as the Zabrak's, but that was intentional - she could do the same with less raw power, more precision and finesse. Stumbling backwards, but certainly not slamming into the cage behind her, the Acolyte looked up at her quarry with a smile. It wasn't a friendly smile, no. It didn't say 'I want to be your friend,' but rather, 'I'm going to enjoy breaking you.'

With that same predatory grin on her face, the Acolyte lifted her organic hand and threw an arc of lightning at her prey once again - but this one was different from the last. It was a bit more intense, for one thing, and that went for both parties involved. The Apprentice grimaced beneath her hood as her fingertips blackened and the subtle smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils, using her pain to fuel the lightning, which, in turn, fueled her pain. But she knew that the man before her wasn't going to be downed by a short bolt of pain, no matter how intense, and so that wasn't what she gave him.

Instead, she channeled a continuous stream of rage-fueled lightning towards the Zabrak, with no sign of letting up any time soon. Some small part of her knew that was a bit foolish - her fingertips might not ever heal completely if she kept this up, and, more importantly, there was a fairly high risk of nerve damage to her quarry - which wouldn't suit her purposes, not one bit. There was no defense against this sort of attack, of course, unless her quarry happened to know Tutaminis, which, admittedly, was a possibility - although one that the Apprentice doubted was likely.

"So," Began the grey-skinned young woman, voice filled with pained and hissed through grit teeth, "It appears that the dog may have more to him than pure bark. Color me ever so slightly impressed."

---

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The next torrent of lightning was far stronger than that which the Sith had conjured before. Salacious fought the impulses that were being fired through his body, the spasms wracking through him regardless. The Zabrak's muscles stiffened and relaxed and fired all at once through out his body, the electricity overriding his normal impulses. His nerves burned with such intensity, he could even see scarlet rays of electricity obscure his vision. The ground around him jumped with electric arcs that came off of his body, searching for a ground.

Even still Salacious fought. He fought to make even a single step towards the woman. Even the better to throw the Rodian corpse he still clutched. Straining, through great will of effort, he managed to take a faltering step forward, nearly losing his balance as he spasmed. The second step didn't come as easily as the first. His muscles seemed to take on a great fatigue, from the spasms or from the strain of remainging upright, Salacious did not know.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

The Apprentice grinned once more. It wasn't a lie, and it wasn't simple mockery, when she said that the Zabrak had mildly impressed her - his physicality, something she'd only recently been developing in herself, was nothing to scoff at. But his mental faculties, ah...those left a bit to be desired. It was time to show the poor dear why one should only approach a Sith cautiously. As the lightning died down, the young woman took a step forward, and sliced with her saber, barely grazing the Rodian corpse in her prey's grip and accomplishing absolutely nothing of value.

Or so it would've been, had the Apprentice not had a trick up her sleeve.

As any Force User worth their salt knew, a lightsaber had a variable length blade, which was exceptionally useful, considering the multitude of environments one could find themselves fighting in - but that variability had one glaring flaw. It couldn't reasonably be achieved mid-fight, not without momentarily opening the duelist up to an attack whilst they fiddled with the knobs of their saber.

Dual-Phase Activation fixed that problem, and the Apprentice's saber was dual-phase indeed. Mid-swing, right before the blade lined up with her quarry's shoulder, she activated the second phase of her blade, doubling its length to an impressive 3 meters - more than enough to cut the corpse in half, and threatening to cleave the Zabrak's arm off, unless he reacted very quickly.

---

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

Salacious struggled for every step, even as the lightning died down. His muscles ached and screamed, the lightning bringing to bear every bit energy the little Sith could conjure. The scarlet arcs gave way to a single crimson beam. The woman swung, despite Salacious being out of range. And suddenly he wasn't. A cold searing pain from Vexx's shoulder through his whole body, a red haze of pain and fury clouding his vision once more as he howled. The Zabrak tried to thrust his right arm out, to conjure another kinetic blast. He couldn't there was nothing to move. The Zabrak stared at his severed arm on the ground. Rage, pain, fear, together fueled him. His left arm thrust out, the blast he'd sought to conjre amplified by his pain and rage shot towards the woman. So wide in its spray, her only counter could be another display of the Force, or she'd find herself flying into the cage behind her, and potentially through it.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

Oh, by the Force, that hurt. The Apprentice's delicate frame flew backwards, ripping through the metal cage and falling, thankfully, just short of the wall behind her. The swiftness with which he had summoned the blast, and the fact that she had, for a brief second, allowed her focus to slip, meant that she hadn't had time to properly counter his attack.

Kneeling on the ground, back covered in cuts deep and shallow, her breath ragged, the Apprentice had to think quick. While direct physical confrontation would likely end in her favor, if only because she had a lightsaber and he did not, her injuries were grave, and with more abuse, she might be taken out of the fight. The Force was a good fallback - even rage fueled as he was, she had no doubt that she could outmatch him in a Force Duel, but that brought with it even more risk, not the least of which was overdoing it and furthering the corruption that tainted her body.

No, no. She'd have to win this duel through guile, through deception - that was fine by her. Trickery had been her companion long before she'd become one of the Sith, and it would remain so until the end of her days.

With a quiet, defeated-sounding sigh, the Apprentice disengaged her lightsaber, dropping the inactive hilt to the ground. Then, she spoke, her voice solemn and fearful, in stark contrast to the imperious tone that she'd adopted before, when she was attempting to demoralize and infuriate her foe. "I...I submit. I know when I'm bested." Her head hung low, so that her hood could conceal the smirk on her face. "Strike me down. Do it! I don't deserve to bear the title of Sith."

It was all a lie, of course, but it was one spoken with such sincerity that only a very keen observer might spot the falsehood. She knew he'd take the bait, and she knew what she was going to do. Her mind focused on her lightsaber, awaiting the opportune moment to strike.

---

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The Zabrak strode over to the Sith as she spoke. A weak and puny thing. Wisps of smoke rose from the place where his arm used to be, the smell of burnt flesh rising with it. The sharp and searing pain coursed through his body, aggravating and energizing the man. Stepping over the scattered pieces of the cage, he lowered his head, the hole the Sith's body had created far too small for him to pass through upright. The Zabrak grasped the small woman's throat and lifte her high into the air, his hand slowly closing into a fist, squeezing the life from her. Lips curled back in a snarl, his rank breath filled her nostrils, mixing with the taste of electrified air and the scent of marred flesh.

[member="Mala Arar"]

 

[Darth Imperia]

When the Zabrak approached and grabbed the Acolyte's neck, he'd see that the young woman in his grasp was grinning wickedly, because the Zabrak was exactly where she wanted him. It was true, the hand around her throat was a bit of an issue, but she could deal with that. All it took was a gentle pull with the Force from her left hand, and suddenly she was no longer unarmed. The iconic snap-hiss of a lightsaber echoed through the arena, and the next thing anyone knew, there was a lightsaber blade headed for Salacious's legs at high speed. There was still the problem of the hand around her throat, however, and to rectify that problem, the Apprentice applied what was quickly becoming one of her favorite techniques. A delicate, metallic black hand with red fingernails wrapped around the hand on the Acolyte's throat, and squeezed.

Now, the Emperor's Reach model prosthesis was not, truly, an exceptionally strong replacement - but it was still twice as strong as, say, your average zabrak, and delivered more than enough force to crush all of the delicate little bones in a humanoid's hand.

How the Zabrak responded to this multi-pronged assault was, of course, up to him - but he was in for a world of hurt if he didn't pull something very clever, very quickly.

---

[member="Salacious Vexx"]

 

[Salacious Vexx]

The snap hiss gave the man little warning. But just enough to save his legs. As the distinctive sound rung out, Salacious lifted the woman higher, swinging her around to attempt to crash her body into the ground. No sooner had he begun to move did he feel the cool metal against his skin and then the crushing force which snapped and shattered his bones. The pain broke his focus, what little of it he had, and instead of forcefully throwing the woman aside, he dropped her, mid throw, so that she landed before his feet.

The pain lanced up his arm in a moment, had he another hand to grip his wrist with he would have. The welp would pay for that, and the arm too.

[member="Mala Arar"]