Private A Tale of Lies

[Kasir Dorran]

Corazona von Ascania

A sense of triumph surged during her struggle; it fueled his arrogance, making him believe he had the upper hand. A smirk curled along his lips. Kasir's expression even morphed to something of wicked satisfaction as he soon felt Cora's mechanical fingers tighten around his throat. The surprise of it all managed to cut through the adrenaline pumping through his being. She was like a storm now, driven by anger, a noblewoman shifting into a primal beast.

The assassin chuckled, a cold sound that emerged through the pain building in his neck. He embraced the sensation, though not as an act of submission, but as an opportunity; he absorbed her emotions, trying to draw power from them. The fury intensified as blood splattered on his face, the warm liquid feeling as though it were searing against the charred skin. A tooth struck his flesh with a sharp pain. As the metallic liquid splashed into his eyes, the temporary blindness caused him to find his backfoot. He tripped over an uneven patch of the rock. Throughout the chaos, he at least remained aware of her lightsaber, its glow present in his mind.

During the fall, the Sith's arm lashed out, latching onto her wrist like a vice, refusing to give any advantage. Summoning the full extent of his strength, he wrenched it free from his throat and shoved the woman off him.

With determined effort, he rose again. Staggering towards the edge, he gazed down at the lava raging below. He leapt through the air, crossing each one until he landed on the other side of the river, barely maintaining his balance. And although his vision still blurred, he lifted his arm, channeling every ounce of dark power into a force that crackled with intense energy. With a roar, he unleashed a storm of lightning; it was a powerful display of his mastery. He anticipated that the Jedi would have followed.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

There was a struggle. For a few good moments, Cora felt as though she truly had him - her adrenaline would not rest until she made that pulse beneath her hand fade away, until the threat was well and truly neutralized.

It would not have been a kind way to go. Horace's hands around her neck had made her panic, once, as he squeezed the breath from her throat and had her world fading. The Sith did not deserve kindness, but there was something vile in the low chuckle that emanated from his chest.

Kasir stumbled back and wrenched her grasp from his person. His shove sent her to the ground, giving him enough time to cross the churning river of lava. Momentarily dazed, Cora retrieved her lightsaber and went after him.

The ache in her back and legs became heavier each time she landed on the small, rocky islands that zigged and zagged through the lava flow. She'd only made it partway across when something bright and malevolent shifted in the Force. Tiny hairs stood at the back of her neck. Cora could not explain why, but she had the distinct feeling of being caught in a trap.

The familiar scent of ozone crackled in the air. A sensation she’d experienced twice before, but even that realization wasn't enough. She lifted a hand, hoping to absorb the blow.

Lightning struck her right hand, the metal prosthetic amplifying the current. It trawled up her arm, scoring through the fabric of her sleeve and deepening the fractal scars she'd received from Sinestra years ago. This was not the same; this was far more powerful. More personal.

Her body seized, frozen in a display of agony as lightning burned at every nerve, sending jolts of intense pain through every muscle fiber. When the assault ended, she collapsed onto the ashen rock. A burst of lava struck the side of the island, leaving bright molten specks along her legs.

Cora gasped for breath. She felt as though her lungs had been paralyzed, and her limbs were too heavy, too tired and disconnected to move. Vicious thoughts permeated her mind, sinking into the core of her being. Sparks leapt against the arm that had been struck as she felt her own vile anger burn harsher with each passing moment.

Darth Ukatis whispered somewhere at the edges of her mind, but he went ignored.

She fought through the twitches and spasms, propping herself up first with two hands, then her knees, then to her feet. With a feral cry, lightning erupted from metal fingertips, casting a jagged arc across the river.

Kasir Dorran

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Time slowed as Kasir watched the arcs of lightning fall upon the Jedi. The colors of her suffering painted the suffocating air, each jolt bringing torment. Even from afar, he could see it in her eyes— the ferocity of her very struggle. With each pulse of agony that rippled through the air, his strength grew.

The Sith’s heart thrummed as he stood rooted to the spot, tension humming in the air around him. He sensed the surge of energy turning course, headed directly for him. Snapping his head to the side, he instinctively recognized the familiarity of impending danger. Its raw and wild nature drew closer, cutting through the space between him and Cora like a storm.

He could feel the reverberations of the Jedi's pain, the cries of her own soul echoing within the currents of the Force. It stirred something deep within him— pure, untamed anger. His fists clenched, feeling it tighten around him like a chain.

Bracing himself, Kasir channeled the very essence of lightning that flowed through his veins. He could almost feel the tendrils of power rising from the depths of his core; they were ready to burst forth in response to the new threat. With every ounce of his will, the assassin summoned the invisible threads of energy, feeling his resolve strengthen with urgency.

Lightning writhed from the fingertips of his only hand. He could see it— the mass of Cora's lightning surging towards him; though, it still wasn’t enough to demand his respect. Wasting no time, he unleashed his own strike, feeling its frenzy collide with that which was aimed to decimate him. As their energies clashed, sparks flew and the air crackled; it was a collision that threatened to tear everything around him apart.

Given his current state, it didn't take long for Kasir's strength began to wane against her relentless assault; the strain became completely unbearable. In that moment of vulnerability, the lightning finally struck him, cutting through all his defenses and sending pain through his entire being. Just as he roared, his voice was devoured by the tempest surrounding him; he was then thrown back, his body crumpling under the pressure.

He landed by the charred edge of the fiery rivers of Mustafar; it welcomed his descent with the warmth of a funeral pyre, and his already damaged form was consumed by flames.

Helpless, he lay at the mercy of the blaze; all sounds leaving his mouth drowned out by the molten currents flowing. Like a wounded animal, he attempted to crawl away, but only struggled with the stump of his other arm; the searing heat would hold him captive.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mustafar was a world mired in darkness; coarse plumes of smog choked the skies while bright flows of lava cast harsh shadows along every rock and crevice.

Those shadows burned away under the sheer luminance of their clash. It was almost, almost akin to the blinding flash of Force Light.

But there was no Light here. This was power, wild and raw and untamed. This was survival, violent and unbridled.

Cora did not let up until she felt something give. First her knees found the ground, then her hands. Wisps of smoke streamed from her fingers as she gasped and choked on volcanic air. Then, she looked up, squinting across the lava. Kasir was not standing.

She stood, pushing through the tremors that wracked her body. Something in her, a small part, had rejected the assault. A larger part of her wanted to survive. Maybe, she had liked how powerful it felt to be stronger than her captor.

Only for a moment.

Cora dared not move closer, but she spied him struggling near the edge of the deadly river. She saw his mouth move, could even see the harsh rise and fall of his chest, but his voice was swallowed by the churning lava that broke against the shore. Closer and closer it came, sending searing specks of heat over the felled Sith.

She found herself reaching out. A hand raised in front of her, but she stalled the moment her foot hit the ground. Trickles of guilt, familiar and deep, suddenly surged into her core. Conflict played out across her face; the urge to ease suffering, even if it had been by her own hands, was strong and senseless.

Kasir writhed on the ground, fueled by his seemingly endless rage. She imagined that he was cursing her. She couldn't blame him, and she couldn't help him.

Cora swallowed down the bitterness of her own decision as she turned away.

"I'm…"

Her lower lip quivered before stiffening.

No. That would be a lie.

With her back to Kasir, the Force carried her across the river. With her mind set on survival, she moved as quickly as her body allowed, not towards the temple, but the hangar.

Kasir Dorran

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Kasir’s face, generally a mask of stoicism, was now filled with anguish. He saw Cora, but was unable to process any words before she abandoned him. His golden orbs followed her retreat, filled with hate. His body revealed the grotesque remnants of a duel lost all too soon. The cauterized stump continued throbbing painfully, the adrenaline slowly wearing thin.

Feeling desperate, the Sith rolled his body against the unforgiving terrain; each movement only provoked more agony as embers clung to his pale skin. The heat in Mustafar’s air was like a living entity, wrapping around him like a blanket, urging him to succumb to the struggle.

The scent of burning flesh filled his nostrils as he attempted to extinguish the flames that licked greedily at his skin. Though there was little clarity in the moment, he would try to summon whatever Force remained within him to quell the fire, but it was relentless. A gasp escaped his lips, the pain suffocating, each breath becoming more difficult as despair threatened to settle in.

Through the haze of pain, a more potent emotion finally surged within him— fury. Kasir had never felt so vulnerable, yet within that vulnerability there was still a thirst for power. With gritted teeth and a single clenched fist, he closed his eyes, drawing deeply on the dark energies pulsing around him.

Focus, he thought, while summoning the tendrils of the Force toward the minds of other members of Wonosa within the enclave. His mind reached out, brushing against theirs intrusively; the connection sparked with urgency in their thoughts.

[The coward is trying to escape.. ensure she doesn't get away. I want her alive.]

While there was no verbal confirmation, Kasir could feel their acknowledgement, their anger, and even a desire for vengeance as they responded to the call.

A group of cloaked Sith emerged from the shadows. The fabric of their robes swirled around their bodies like smoke. As their blades ignited in unison, the crimson glow reflected off their hoods.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The shadows of Mustafar were dark, dangerous corners. Sith who trained here melded into them with unnerving ease. As the door to the hangar slid open, Cora was suddenly intercepted at all angles.

A single beat passed, during which there was no movement, no sound from either party. Only the low hum of crimson sabers.

What followed next was a flurry of red streaks against a background of dark, billowing robes. Even the Jedi among them - if she could still be called that - was garbed similarly. Now, her hood had been thrown back, adding a splash of blonde to the macabre canvas.

Cora did not know how they'd known, but the why was less important as she fought her way through the hangar. After her bout with Kasir, her body and mind were pushed to their limits; and so, she fought without restraint. She fought to survive.

Crushed bones and severed heads were not the Jedi way, but they happened all the same.

A particularly potent repulse of the Force sent her opponents sprawling. With the spare moment, Cora tore open the ramp of a nearby transport and climbed aboard. Her free hand clenched, drawing the damaged ramp upward until it was flush with the edges of the ship - then crumpled the metal slightly so that it would stay in place.

She scrambled for the controls, unfamiliar with the placement of this particular craft, and flicked switches, twisted knobs and pressed buttons until the engine rumbled to life.

In front of her, the hangar bay door started to close.

A fresh wave of panic funneled directly into adrenaline. The transport was bulkier than she would've liked - Cora was used to flying smaller craft - and she pulled at the yoke, jerking the ship at a sharp angle that scraped noisily along the closing doors.

The freighter went into a barrel roll as soon as it cleared the hangar. Unstrapped, Cora was tossed about the cockpit. The ship righted itself as she took firmer hold of the controls.

Glancing out the viewport, she could see the jagged topography of Mustafar, all thick smoke and churning rivers of lava. Somewhere out there, Kasir was lying in a precarious position.

Her focused expression softened. Then, she shook her head.

Cora turned away from the rapidly retreating surface of the volcanic planet, metal fingers dancing at the controls to pull up a holomap and figure out her next move.

Kasir Dorran