As Promised

[Darth Veles]

Temporarily done with his study concerning the knights of Ren, Darth Veles left the First Order’s borders and roamed the galaxy in search of other sects and groups drawing from the Force, collecting their secrets and techniques while claiming powerful artefacts. Mirroring his old master’s journey and aware of the powerful spells she had acquired during her stay among the tribal witch society, the Sith lord found himself on Dathomir, swallowed by vast green jungles and soaking in the powerful dark side presence permeating the very planet. Various tribes and clans called the obscure world home, each in possession of information he required to unlock the great mystery of the Force. All would part with their knowledge, willingly or not. Although he had been to Dathomir before and one clan mother had owed him a favour for helping her group defeat another, the experience was old enough to lose all importance and diminish into a distant memory.

He had to start over, with only the Force and two lightsabers acting as his trusty companions on this particular journey.

Rendering his presence non-existent and abandoning his stealthed ship in a safe place, he set off, swimming through the emerald kingdom of leaves and plants, guided solely by thin threads of the Force that lured him closer to places exhibiting particularly strong signatures of darkness. The dangerous and occult Nightsisters found him first. Walking straight into an ambush would have been the end of many, yet Darth Veles’ body remained standing while others fell and their spirits went on the longest of journeys. The primitively armed women fought valiantly, but ultimately had zero chance against the Sith lord’s command over the dark. Only one tribal lived through the encounter, though her survival was only a temporary by-product of usefulness. Earning herself a deep, bleeding stab in the abdomen and a complete purification of the soul as her will succumbed to Darth Veles’ telepathic commands, she willingly guided her new best friend through the forests, leading the guest to a sacred ritual site strictly forbidden to all off-worlders and uninitiated.

But another signature sang through the Force, one Darth Veles could not brush off as more natives. There was no doubt someone particularly strong stalked him as he hunted for artefacts and knowledge. Aware of the predator trailing his footsteps, the Sith lord’s conscious senses peaked, wary, and he pondered the hunter’s identity. Admittedly, many people wanted him dead or captured, thus his naturally curious mind lusted for learning more instead of vanishing in the forest. The wounded Nightsister continued to bleed and practically drew a line for others to follow, an excellent bait. Better yet; before the woman’s life escaped with the precious crimson liquid, they have reached the destination. Situated in a dark jungle, one of the places impossible to find unless one knew its exact location, it reeked of decaying vegetation and arcane rituals. Unnatural silence loomed over the area, the air heavy with humidity and unnatural dangers lurking behind every crooked tree. In the midst of it, a sanctuary, ruined and broken, yet serving the same purpose for hundreds of years nevertheless.

“Thank you. You have done well.” The Sith lord stated gently, sight washing over the area as he planned his next move. As much as he desired to examine the ruin up close, delve into the Force and touch its secrets, there was still the matter of his pursuer.

Succumbing to her wound, the Nightsister’s carcass collapsed to the ground, joining her friends in death. Darth Veles unceremoniously stepped over the freshly deceased body, planning his next steps. Lacking knowledge concerning his mysterious enemy, the Sith lord opted for observing them as they appeared. Unnatural strength shot through his body and launched the man’s cloaked form high above the ground, landing him safety in a tree where the master of light-based illusions vanished, entirely hidden beneath a cloak of shadows. There, he waited, killing all sounds through the same technique that turned him invisible. Like a predator awaiting its prey’s arrival, he carefully observed every single movement in the world below, subtly following the closing signature without revealing himself.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The blood was more than telling, and that was why Keira didn't trust it in the least. None of the Sith she had crossed had ever been this stupid, and she didn't anticipate this one to be the exception to the rule. More like than not it was the predecessor to an ambush, and she had to admire the tactic, for it was one she herself would have utilized had she been in the same position. A good predator knew when they were being hunted, and it seemed this one had caught on early. That was just as much her fault for not bothering to disguise her signature as it was anything else, but this time around she saw no reason to prolong the inevitable. If there was going to be a fight, then it would happen regardless of what methods of approach were put in place.

Besides, she was more suited to being a wrecking ball than a precise blade.

Her full armor would only be a tell to those that knew her well enough, and as always some fraction of her arsenal accompanied her, this one suited for mobility rather than being a heavy hitter. Jungles weren't the best place to be lugging around the deadliest of her weapons, but even the smallest knife was lethal in the right hands. She had been playing this game long enough to be confident in killing a Sith with nothing more than her wits about her, but it never hurt to have extra help, especially when said extra help included weaponry that had been customized to her personal fighting style. The only thing missing was her tomahawk, but she'd been using the one that had once belonged to her older brother. It was balanced for a grip far different than her own, but it was the only piece of him she had to hold onto anymore.

For no more than a handful of hours she had been walking the jungles of Dathomir, hunting the Sith she had tracked this far and coming up fruitless save for the trail of blood and nothing more than a glimpse at a presence before it was snuffed out, though not in death. She would have recognized that, as the ending of life had become something akin to an old friend. No, her target was unfortunately still alive, but she would have no trouble in remedying that when they eventually crossed paths. It was easy for her to rationalize the killing of a Sith, as they ceased to retain any semblance of humanity the second they adopted that moniker. And killing non-sentients meant nothing.

Her pace slowed as the trail of blood eventually smeared into nothingness, and she didn't bother examining what remained, knowing she would find nothing of value. Instead her gaze turned upwards to the trees, and she scanned the upper branches for any trace of a masterful disappearance, finding none and summarily unfazed. This was typical, and after clashing with the man that had once been the head of the Sith Assassins, nothing tended to surprise her.

"Thalia, scanners. Thermal." Without a word the AI complied, and she flashed a crooked grin beneath her helmet. Found you.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

His mysterious pursuer emerged from within the jungle, though unwilling to commit a fatal mistake and inspect the dead body. Darth Veles would have used that moment to strike, deliver a fatal blow and swiftly end the encounter before it even began, but he could work with this scenario, too. After all, Sith were meant to adapt, and Sith lords did not live long lest they devoted themselves to endlessly striving for more power to secure their survival. His opponent understood it as well. Clad in armour undoubtedly capable of withstanding lightsaber blades, experienced enough to not fall for his trick, possessing several death dealing tools on their belt; everything about the new enemy told Darth Veles he had to remain wary, always on guard. Did this hunter work alone or were there more closing in on him? As one eye remained fixed on enemy down below, the artificial replacement dug through the forested surroundings, spotting no additional threat. Quite relieving – the Sith lord hated the idea of his pursuers teaming up. Not even all his trickery and deceitful arts stood a chance against that sort of concept, therefore he considered himself fortunate as the bionic orb turned its piercing, all-knowing glare towards the sole opponent.

Scanning the armoured being though his cybernetic eye’s lens, the Sith lord soon uncovered who graced him with their presence, carving a subtle hint of a smile across his features. Was the signature alone familiar? Perhaps. But when combined with the armour, there was no mistaking the hunter for any other enemy. The very same opponent he had fought aboard the Omega before its premature destruction put an end to their duel. Instinctively, his webbed hand slithered to the finely crafted tomahawk attached to his belt, gently stroking its sharp curves. This presented a great chance to return the war axe – right into the rightful owner’s skull. Not like he had much of a choice when it came to his arsenal anyway; the Sith lord’s lightsabers have been demoted to blaster deflecting sticks by the woman’s armour. Elegance and grace became worthless, surgical precision meaningless. Only brute strength stood a chance of putting a dent or two into the armour she sported. He could do that. Webbed hand that hid its artificial nature beneath synthflesh firmly grasped the tomahawk, soundlessly retrieving it from the belt. The other went for one of the curved hilts, ready to bring it to life.

With his cybernetically augmented muscles, Darth Veles’ peak physical form harnessed a peerless strength three times the ordinary. Overpowering his opponent through that alone promised a high enough chance of victory, marking this a very personal encounter. Just as he readied himself, amassing the Force in his body to turn his strike into an unstoppable missile to shatter her defences, the woman’s helmeted head turned towards his position with suspicious accuracy. At the same time, the Force screamed in his head, a warning his worst fears were now a reality. Thermal vision, some sort of mysterious Force ability that saw through his invisible disguise? Either way, nothing new to him, a bane to his tricks none the less. So much for a surprise attack. Gritting his teeth, Darth Veles understood all remaining seconds of preparation have been stolen from him. Forced to act, he launched himself off the tree’s solid trunk, propelled at divine speed and turning visible as he went. First a transparent shadow plummeting down from above at lightning speed, followed by the billowing armourweave robe, Darth Veles turned into pitch black night that blocked the sun above her head.

Silence followed him. The Sith lord’s brutal descent was accompanied by no sound at all, his power murdering and enslaving any noise in vicinity. Even his lightsaber’s scarlet fury saw no need to announce itself as it burst to life, lacking the usual humming sound that announced the blade’s arrival. Perhaps merciful, maybe all the more frightening, the war axe remained silent as well as it ripped through the air and sought after the armoured figure’s head as if the Sith lord desired to cleave the entire woman in half, amrour or not. For a second, the tomahawk’s eternally sharp edge glistened, as if recently oiled and polished just for this occasion.

This was it. His promise about to split her brain.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

As a Corellian Keira had long since given up the idea of questioning the odds, but sometimes she had to admire just how damning they were. The tomahawk that sluiced through the air, its path destined for her skull, was one that she knew because it belonged to her. That made the attacker a familiar face as well, or at the very least, not an entirely meaningless kill. This was a Sith she had faced before on that doomed space station, where its eventual collapse had led to an unfortunate shortening of events as she and her brother had to evacuate, along with the remaining Crusaders. Fate, however, was kind enough to bring them together for one last dance, and hopefully this one would have the resolution she was looking for.

The sight of her own weapon careening downwards, its destination ending her life, wasn't as frightening as it probably ought to have been. Her extensive use of the weapon meant she knew it intrinsically, and so as opposed to dodging it she only pulled her brother's tomahawk from her belt, holding it in a reverse grip in her left hand and bringing it up in a block, locking the blade of her own behind his and twisting sharply in an effort to disarm him of at least one piece of his arsenal. This wasn't about retrieving what had once been hers just yet, but about finalizing what had been left unwritten the last time. The last chapter of their book had to be finished first, and then she would see about reclaiming what was rightfully her own and being on her way.

Throwing up her right hand she released the tightly wound ball of the Force she'd been nurturing, the strength it held capable of throwing an entirely unprepared combatant backwards and into the treeline. Thankfully for the both of them he was far from new to this sort of game, otherwise this fight would have been far too short and boring for both their tastes. Grown out of old habits though she may have been, she still enjoyed toying with her prey perhaps more than she should have, although it was hard to tell who was who in this instance. That didn't really matter so long as the right person lay dead at the end of it all, and if fate was kind it would be him. Even if fate was so unkind, she would find a way.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

One loud clank of metal resonated throughout the forest and sent many native creatures scurrying away in absolute terror as the two war axes impacted. A hard hit for sure, but neither combatant crumbled dead, both too empowered by cybernetics and adrenaline to die so soon. Darth Veles now knew this would be a long, exhausting duel; he had failed to deliver a blow. Fortunately enough, disarming him was equally fruitless, leaving the weapons locked in a loving kiss destined to continue until one cyborg prevailed. The Sith lord was an assassin though, and thus it became difficult to not let disappointment spill into the Force. His first strike should have been the last, a perfectly orchestrated death delivered by his hands with professional care and utmost precision. Although it would be a lie to claim he did not enjoy a good fight, the Sith lord was simply survival and efficiency oriented, too much to find joy in battles to the death. When playing with terrible cards, one had to improvise, and given the hunter’s armour, he had to improvise a lot, both lightsabers useless.

For the most part, anyway.

“Long time no see, old friend.” The Sith lord’s smooth voice mocked his rival, amber eyes never leaving her form.

Another quick look that put the cybernetic orb to work, scanning the woman’s helmet in particular. While it did not provide him with anything game changing, he did get to see every single detail, every scratch and damage to ever mark the piece of armour. Purposely keeping their tomahawks locked, Darth Veles released his thumb from the curved lightsaber’s ignition button. Hissing, a definite proof no sound bending took effect any longer, the entire beam of superheated plasma died, fading out as if it never existed in the first place. As the Sith lord pointed his metallic hilt directly at her visor, all his reasoning became clear; the lightsaber’s blade was way too long to allow for a stab into the woman’s face. By turning it off first and aiming it almost like a blaster, he intended to ignite it straight through what he perceived to be her helmet’s weakest portion. A simple, barely noticeable motion of his thumb was all it took to ignite the weapon again.

Maybe it would have worked, but he did not get the chance to test his visor-related theory. Just as the fiery red energy snapped to life again, angrily eating towards the hunter, the Sith lord’s body shot back, driven away from his enemy by unseen power. Ironically enough, if not for his attempt at stabbing the woman, he would have likely caught the attack given the enhanced speed. Lacking both time and means to block or lessen the power’s impact however, the Sith lord received a telekinetic punch that sent him sprawling back with laughable ease and knocked the wind out of both lungs. Darth Veles’ short-lived flight passed the small clearing and headed towards the trees, but receiving concussion was not among his intentions. Retaliation was in order; just as her, the Sith lord summoned a drop of anger, packing its power into a telekinetic push he hurled at the enemy. Boots dug into the ground, carving lines into the earth and slowing his involuntary retreat enough that by the time Darth Veles’ back hit a tree, it was a mere tap.

The Force was about to do the talking. Dismissing the lightsaber completely and returning the sleek hilt back onto his belt, the Sith lord’s empty palm curled into a fist and opened immediately after, releasing a blinding flash of light. Primarily meant to rob her of sight and temporarily disable the most sensitive electronics installed within the woman’s suit, the power really served as an effective distraction. Precisely what he needed. Deeply focused, knowing he could not afford to fail, his free hand immediately unleashed another technique. Similar in nature, it aimed to disable the suit’s systems, albeit for longer. It also required to connect; similar to the famed power of Sith lightning, shimmering stream of violet energy rushed towards the opponent to do as commanded. All in all, Darth Veles really wanted to distract her – anything to let him get close again. Swift, relentless pace started to carry him closer.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

He may not have been built for long, drawn out fights, but by contrast they were where she thrived. Extensive combat with the Gen'Dai that amounted to her only mentor had taught her how to last in to-the-death scenarios, durability for fights something beaten into her. So when their tomahawks locked together her arm didn't waver, the cybernetic limb remaining unnaturally taut in the face of such stress. It was built for catching lightsabers, so it stood to reason that this was child's play in comparison. Everything about her was built to stand up to abuse when others were doing their best to end her life, and unfortunately for this opponent she was far better at staying alive than was convenient for him.

Fortunately for her the telekinetic punch drove him backwards before the crimson of his blade could pierce both her helmet and skull, and it was satisfying to watch her strike connect solidly and send him flying through the air. Rather unfortunately, he was still standing at the end of it all, sending an equally as powerful wave of energy towards her. A shimmering barrier was manifested, hastily constructed but sturdy enough, boots remaining on the ground even as she slid backwards. In the last few seconds as the blow rained down on her she sent a burst of the Force outwards meant to do nothing more than counter his opposing energy, the clash of the two blows echoing like a gunshot through the trees.

Drawing again on the ethereal she became a blur, the flash of light not immediately hindering, as the visor of her helmet automatically darkened, sensing the change in brightness. That was, until her HUD went dark. Thankfully she had closed the distance between them considerably at that point, and so a lack of readings wouldn't hinder her ability to get in close and deal in death. Then the electricity spider-webbed outwards, an attack not seen and barely sensed with the immediate lack fo sight that overwhelmed her senses. Instinctively she hit the ground in a roll, arms tucked in so as to avoid injury. Rather than hopping to her feet she sprung into a crouch, sweeping out with her left leg in order to take his legs out from under him, tomahawk whistling down towards his head, the tables having turned.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

She was fast, he had to admit. A trained, experienced warrior well-versed in the ways of the Force. The again, being a master of unnatural arts of the dark side himself, Darth Veles did not stay far behind. A cyborg, he was more than a match for her when it came to speed and agility – possessing just the right amount of augmentations to make him physically superior to most sentients in the galaxy, yet not ruining his body to the point of decreasing his own connection to the Force. Obsessed with perfection and constantly hunting for more, be it power, knowledge, or even physical and mental strength, the Mon Calamari was a living embodiment of Sith virtues. Unlike many, who have traded constant hardship for comfort and luxury, he was a survivor through and through, raised by Korriban’s unforgiving rules and well versed in the blood red planet’s secrets. Combined with his purist ideology, knowing he was the last Sith in the galaxy, Darth Veles did not cut any corners when it came to training, always pushing himself past his limits and finding joy in the years of pain and rivers of blood that have washed away all physical weaknesses, leaving a monstrous machine occupied by a sharp, Machiavellian mind.

When the armoured woman drastically closed the distance between them, he stood still, waiting, hand no longer spewing purple sparks. Given his mind continued to process the hunter’s moves incredibly fast, reducing mere predictions into cold, accurate calculations, he could effectively prepare himself for her onslaught, legs bending slightly for better stability. Truly – working in conjunction with the Force, deciding on his next move became terrifyingly easy. She was skilled, experienced, powerful, no doubt about that, but nothing he could not deal with.

Showing zero hesitation, as if he had planned this particular combo long before and now he simply played it out, the Sith lord jumped, only enough to let his opponent’s swooping motion pass harmlessly through empty air. The moment his booted feet touched solid land, she attacked again, but so did he. With his own war axe rising up to meet her attack, pursuing the simply goal of parrying, Darth Veles’ right leg shot forward in a kick aimed for her mid-section. The Force and his augmentations worked together to deliver maximum speed and strength, albeit it wouldn’t have the same obliterating effect on her well-protected form as it usually had on unarmoured foes. That still left his lightsaber-wielding hand free to pursue another action; trickery and flames of darkness danced together in the Sith lord’s large amber orbs as another telekinetic pull took place, aimed at the hunter’s legs to ruin her footing and send her tumbling down.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Her sight reduced to mere blurs and vague shapes, Keira had to operate on instinct and her extrasensory abilities much more than she would have liked. The parry was detected rather easily, the clang of alchemized metal difficult to miss. As opposed to the lock initiated previously the two weapons simply rebounded off of each other, which was telling to another attack not far behind. And Keira was not disappointed. The kick connected solidly, though she had the phrik mesh and ballistic vest to thank for reducing the full force of the strike. However, it still served to drive the breath from her, and regardless of the additional protection across her abdomen she still knew there would be bruising to tend to later.

The telekinetic tug, however, was something she sensed intrinsically. Claiming herself a master of those arts above all else, it was something she took note of inherently. It still most certainly took her off her feet, but it was more fluidly dealt with than simply suffering the blow as she had previously. While she was off her feet she managed to turn it into a somewhat graceful move, planting solidly on her right hand in a flip that distanced her only very slightly and kept her on her feet, one way or another. The tomahawk was still held firmly in her left, and she certainly felt her age the moment she found her feet again. It had been a long time since she utilized acrobatics, and she remembered why that was the case.

Coming out of the flip she switched her tomahawk to her right hand, a flex of her fingers causing her carbon-fiber pistol - the CW-77 - to materialize seemingly from nothing in her left hand. The slugthrower fired twice, two reports of the weapon cracking in the jungle, aimed for his body instead of any vital organs, debilitating shots rather than lethal. She didn't necessarily expect any of them to connect, but bullets were a bit more challenging to block with a lightsaber.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

All evidence pointed in her favour; it became obvious the woman was no stranger to battling Sith, well-versed in the ancient order’s modus operandi. If accidental onlookers witnessed the dance, they would have undoubtedly thought it must have been meticulously planned beforehand due to the unrivalled ease at which the two warriors moved, as if they have done it many times before. Her flip tore their weapons away in a manner that naturally capitalized on his telekinetic attack, an act that freed the duo and placed a neat spot of unoccupied room between them. Ripping downwards with a promise of pain, yet eating through nothing but empty air, a cut that followed was too slow to catch the woman’s thigh, missing her armoured form as it escaped the alchemized axe’s reach. Darth Veles immediately followed with a charge against the experienced hunter’s body, refusing to offer her a momentary reprieve. Little did he know that she possessed a trick up her sleeve, prepared for such circumstance.

Many cybernetic arms concealed hidden weaponry – his own included. That did not rob the mysterious killer of the element of surprise though, more so that her reaction time wished to rival his. Two quick, successive shots barked his way, immediately processed by the Sith lord’s augmentations that worked with the Force to formulate a plan to address the situation accordingly. Nothing overly exotic or flashy – Darth Veles committed to the simplest of moves, bringing the tomahawk up. The whooshing war axe rushed an impossible race to stop the projectiles, countering one, yet not even the cyborg’s lightning speed prevented one of the two bullets from entering his torso and feasting on the Mon Calamari flesh, a tiny hole in his black tunic serving as a proof. No gasp or even a tug to slow his terrifying advance forward acknowledged the hit however – indeed, the Sith lord continued unhindered, plummeting the alchemized weapon back down in a diagonal motion, eager to put a dent in the helmet as a loving memento.

A predictable strike, just like he wanted. Easy to block or parry.

The small pistol’s cries for attention went unanswered; Darth Veles completely ignored the little bugger as his form continued to move forward, intent on crashing into the woman and ruining her plans depending on stability. In all the chaos, nobody would notice the left hand’s subtle flick in its wrist that sent the beam of softly humming energy up, seeking the woman’s right armpit that the Sith lord guessed to be particularly vulnerable, as with many armours. It was a risky bet, naturally, yet the payoff meant one disabled arm.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The satisfaction of watching one of the bullets connect was unprecedented, and although her opponent disguised his pain remarkably well, Keira couldn't help but naturally draw on the subtle nuances of suffering that ebbed outwards with him as the epicenter. Consume Essence was an ability that had been literally beaten into her by a former mentor, and training was difficult to ignore, if not impossible. The use of pain as power was a mantra she had memorized and learned to live by at a young age, and as much as she had attempted to leave that inherent darkness behind, it had pursued her relentlessly throughout the years. Still she deemed herself better than the Sith she hunted, better than the man before her.

His strike was parried with some difficulty, her ambidexterity not perfected, but she managed to avoid a potentially devastating cut to her helmet regardless. His saber grazed nastily along the vulnerability of her armor before she instinctively jerked back, putting her left hand between herself and the blade, the weapon sparking harmlessly against the phrik plating and adding yet another layer of scorch marks to the already ruined palm of the cybernetic. If Patricia were here she would be cursing her for the constant abuse of the limb, but if it was built to withstand the constant stress she put it through, there was no point in denying a tool its usefulness.

The tomahawk had fallen to the ground the moment the white hot heat of his saber made contact with her arm, but she wasn't in any state to keep utilizing the weapon, lest she aggravate the wound. So, a mostly one-handed fight this would be. Thankfully she'd faced worse odds in her time. Her right leg came up to hopefully deliver a powerful kick to his abdomen, though regardless of whether the blow actually connected she would follow up with a punch intended for his jaw with her left hand, the repulse hand active, granting him no mercy as their fight continued to work towards its deadliest peak.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The hunter’s sharpened war axe jumped from her fingers and kissed the ground, yet the arm refused to follow and join the weapon in deathly stillness despite the obvious hit. A glaring sign of vulnerability nevertheless, which he could read from the pain-driven, swift reaction that rushed her away from the crimson blade. Maybe not the result he had expected, but immensely satisfying anyway, even prompting his opponent to shield the weakness by the cybernetic hand. Armed with fresh knowledge and hoping to exploit her vulnerable spot further, Darth Veles opted to continue his relentless wave of attacks. Without any breathing room, she would eventually crack. Sooner or later, but there was no alternative when facing someone who felt hardly any exhaustion. Fatigue became an alien concept after artificially transcending his natural limits and removing several chains holding him back. All went in accordance with the Sith ways of eliminating one’s weaknesses, even if such weaknesses stemmed from the natural fragility of organic bodies.

Cover and defence played little role in the Sith lord’s advance. One unyielding step forth and the gap she had created became a meaningless gesture delaying the inevitable, another long stride was about to finish the job when a powerful kick interrupted the seamless flow. Landing true, it elicited a hiss and sent a fresh wave of pain through his stomach, largely due to the scorched circular mark ruining his clothes. Blood gushed out in a short-lived stream, immediately soaking into the dark fabric wrapped around his form. Darh Veles’ ribs definitely did not approve either, yet the Sith lord’s sturdy, reinforced bones saw little reason to crack despite the lingering ache. More pain meant more power, an opportunity he seized to fuel himself by drawing the potent sensation like a sponge. Aware of another strike headed his way, a cybernetically enhanced punch to shatter bone, he adjusted accordingly.

This potentially devastating attack met swift opposition in form of the Sith lord’s own artificial arm, still wielding the tomahawk. An instinctive reaction, enhanced by years of training, nothing more than a typical parry that saw her cybernetic fist clash with his synthflesh-coated hand replacement. Definitely a solid block that denied the powerful bionic hit from travelling any further and meeting his face in a crushing fashion, yet there was an element he had not accounted for; the repulse generators worked all too well, ripping the synthflesh covering his hand into ribbons and exposing the underlying phrik frame. Much to the Sith lord’s dismay, the concealed wrist blade was no longer hidden from the outside world either, though it continued to silently sleep in the complicated mechanism and obediently wait for its master’s call to action. Given the woman’s armour, the eternally sharp dagger had zero use right now.

There it was, a perfect opportunity to disable the woman’s artificial limb and whatever else has been installed inside her body. At this range, there would be no avoiding it – like a sudden, bone chilling scream, currents of shimmering purple erupted from the Sith lord’s fingertips, ionic energy manufactured by the dark side rushing from his left hand, its target obvious. Lasting only as long as his focus allowed, the power would cease when scarlet flashes of light hummed through the air, lightsaber eager to dive into the hunter’s right armpit again and leave a more lasting impression this time.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The shielding installed in her left arm flashed into existence just long enough to block the stream of electricity, and once the shriek of the energy silenced the impromptu defense dissipated entirely, not lasting long enough to contend with the crimson blade. This time the sight of the saber cutting through the air towards her was a more familiar one, and she managed to create just enough distance between them to avoid losing the limb, the heat of the weapon still grazing against her skin and causing considerable pain, a sharp gasp and string of curses escaping her. He was fast, but thankfully she managed to at the very least keep up, avoiding the loss of what would amount to a third limb.

Her form blurred as enhanced speed created more of a gap between them, her chest rising and falling visibly as she stood there. This wasn't the most difficult or life-threatening fight she had been in by any means, but it certainly was one of the more fast-paced ones, requiring her to utilize more quick-thinking and improvisation than she was entirely comfortable with for such an extended period of time. It reminded her far too much of when she was younger and far more brash and uncaring for her own safety. That was a dangerous mindset to lose herself in, and opponents such as this had a tendency to bring it out in her, if just for moments at a time. Perhaps that was why she'd pursued this fight so readily.

Instead of attacking again she relented momentarily, inspecting her wounded right arm and seeming to lend it more attention than the fight at hand, though any who assumed her defenseless would be reminded quickly of how truly dangerous a honed warrior was. By her calculations she wasn't in danger of losing the arm just yet, but taking any more hits like that would likely result in some kind of permanent nerve damage that would take some time to heal. Better that than another cybernetic, she supposed. Still she didn't lash out, seeming to only be watching him, but in reality she was preparing a strike that wasn't immediately outwardly volatile. This one instead relied on her more refined ethereal talents, and while it wasn't perfect, it was something.

Her focus may have been absorbed by the burnt and sundered flesh of her right arm, but her intent lay elsewhere, directed towards the hilt of the saber her adversary held. Her breathing slowed gradually, her brow crinkling slightly seemingly in pain, but truly in concentration on the ethereal. Keira inhaled once deeply, allowing that breath to be released measuredly as her focus on the Force only increased until she could nearly envision the composition of the lightsaber held in his grasp. Within her mind's eye she imagined it separating on a nearly molecular level, an invisible, sharp twist of the Force hopefully causing the same to happen in reality, the success of the attack being marked by his saber exploding violently in his grasp.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

In a beautiful spectacle to witness, his power washed over the shield, absorbed by it in shimmering waves of purple and blue. The flashes reflected in the Sith lord’s big bulbous eyes, alongside small, barely noticeable pyres of deceit and treachery. Contrasting the attack’s failure, his secondary strike hit true again, gently stroking the woman’s skin and flesh in a playful fashion if not for the vaporizing effect common to most lightsabers. While the arm remained attached, there was no longer the absolute certainty it’d obey the body’s whims. Creating numerous small weaknesses promised to birth vulnerabilities, which the Makashi practitioner intended to exploit. No doubt the hunter realized so as well - further necessitating distractions and other non-life threatening injuries to divert her attention from the fatal opening Darth Veles desired to orchestrate and execute. After all, lightsabers did not need to completely and utterly annihilate the enemy to kill – a single light tap in the right place was enough to send the majority of sentients straight to the Void. In this case, all vital spots have been covered, yet a skilled enough duelist knew how to circumvent even the thickest of armour by delivering dozens of light, yet disabling cuts.

She was on the defensive. Increasing the distance between them proved that. The Sith lord did not charge this time, remaining in place and weaving future strategies.

Although the tactic of relentlessly charging the woman and offering no breathing room had worked so far, repeating it over and over gravely increased the danger of impaling himself on the notional spear in her hands. The Sith lord had already received one warning in his stomach and there was no telling if the next bullet would be his death or not. Keeping his distance and assessing the situation, mind calm and calculating the opponent’s next move, Darth Veles started to circle the woman, moving counter clockwise, a predator caught in the elegant process of picking the right moment to strike. Footwork flawless, flowing smoothly without a single mistake and showing no indication of ever suffering an injury, the Sith lord kept his scarlet blade pointed downwards, yet his eyes burning in similarly to a cosy fireplace never abandoned their main focus. Her hands and legs have been carefully evaluated for any signs willing to reveal her intentions, searching for even the slightest of motions indicating the hunter’s plan.

No strike came from her direction, yet a dark frown spread over the Dark lord’s expression, head tilting to the side as if his piercing glare wished to peek into the hunter’s mind and uncover her thoughts. Something subtle rustled in the Force, treachery afoot. Time was of the essence – he could not afford to wait any longer, lest he risked paying the ultimate price. Turned into a red scythe, his saber rushed off, not directly towards the woman however; instead of craving her flesh once again, it turned its wrath towards the green jungles of Dathomir before coming back to its owner. One tree nearby the hunter found itself freed from the ground’s shackles – with Darth Veles’ telekinetic nudge, the trunk rushed to club the woman standing below, pulled by gravity and telekinesis alike.

Without an explanation, the returned weapon hissed and shut off. A malevolent tremor ran through the Force, one only he could feel – it meant the kyber crystal he had enslaved and bound to his will worked no more. cracked and rendered unsafe for use.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

For a long few moments, all was silent in the jungle. It seemed that, out of all the waves of attack the Sith had launched in the turmoil of their clash, that the most simplistic had been successful. There wasn't so much a whisper of her presence in the Force, or any indication that she still lived and breathed. As far as the galaxy was concerned in the moment, that was the case. In the frantic seconds during which the tree had fallen, she had moved impossibly fast into the jungle, concealing herself in the trees just as her opponent had previously, though she had only natural camouflage and Mandalorian training as opposed to the ability to bend light. It sufficed well enough, for the short amount of time she wished to remain hidden.

Keira took those first few moments of recompense to simply breathe, taking stock of her current injuries, what limits had been pushed too far and which she was still capable of breaking for a little while longer. As built as she was for drawn out fights, this one was far more unorthodox and underhanded than she had originally anticipated. Unlike those other Sith had fought this one actually knew how to surprise her, something that at one impressed and annoyed her. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about that, but thankfully so did she. While he had caused her to push her limits, she still had a few tricks left up her sleeve. Namely, what remained of her arsenal.

As stealthily as she could manage with the weight of the armor plate, Keira reached up to pull her EE-3 off her back - dubbed Delilah by the woman that had crafted it. This marked her first time utilizing it in total, but a soldier didn't need to be taught how to fire a gun. Shouldering the weapon, she sighted through the scope at her target, aiming for body shots as opposed to anything explicitly lethal. It would be a nice bonus if she managed to kill him, but for the moment all she really needed to do was slow him down. If what Blonde had told her when she manufactured the weapon was true, it had enough stopping power to get the job done. If not, she would make sure it did.

With an ease brought on by years of practice she flicked off the safety and fired downrange nearly instantly after the fact; a three-round burst intended to impact his abdomen. Just as quickly the safety catch was re-engaged and the weapon returned to its proper place, and she swung down from the tree just as her presence in the Force exploded outwards as if reborn, her existence once again a reality.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

For a moment, the Sith lord lost his sight on the enemy as a shower of leaves and branches harshly descended to the ground, followed by eerie silence. The hunter’s Force signature went silent, extinguished, and even when the Dark lord’s senses crept over the delicate fabric of the Force, there was nothing to be found, yet he realized his foe lived and breathed still. No shattered and broken body lied beneath the tree’s crushing weight – a clear enough indication she must have retreated to find a better position to attack him from. There was no point in rushing after her though. Although Darth Veles considered himself an experienced tracker, the sheer frantic pace of their tango did not allow for the thorough and methodical examination of marks she must have left behind. Better to stay in place and let the woman revel herself. A single shot would be more than enough to give her hiding spot away.

In the meantime, Darth Veles’ webbed hand swapped the two lightsabers in his possession, no longer holding a timed bomb. Readiness and a preying sense of calm radiated off his form as he stood motionless, delving into the Force and listening to every suspicious rustle, cybernetic eye softly whizzing as the orb swivelled around, darting between various objects to be used as cover. Somewhere in there, she watched him, analysed his every move and planned a new strategy to take him down. Even without a distinct presence to reveal the hunter, the Sith lord could imagine her intentions very well nevertheless. Lowering his weapons, lightsaber extinguished, he waited, observing his surroundings carefully.

There, in the trees. Well camouflaged and concealed, but visible nevertheless, betrayed by reaching up for her rifle and breaking the natural cover for the briefest of seconds. Instead of staring directly at her and revealing his knowledge of her position, the Sith lord averted his sight elsewhere, forming a plan for when the first attack hit. The master assassin briefly considered cloaking himself again, but there was no guarantee of success given his enemy still possessed good enough sensors to find her target. It meant Dathomir’s forests would become his best friend very soon – enough cover to hide him from her devices, more than enough spots to launch an ambush from. There was just one last thing that needed to be done; survive. Prepared for the inevitable, the amphibious Dark lord of the Sith felt his chances were pretty good. In fact, the Sith infiltrator looked forward to it, excited by the idea of doing what he did best and toying with his pursuer.

A burst of three deadly stings erupted from their hiding spot, a surprise that’s already been spoiled. In a twirl, Darth Veles dashed into the jungle, letting his heavy armourweave cloak eat the blaster bolts and fall like a fallen soldier, discarded as its owner vanished in the emerald sea. With so many obstacles and other living inhabitants roaming around, discovering the Mon Cal’s form would be vastly more challenging, if not completely overwhelming for the hunter’s sensors. Permanently hidden, his signature also refused to offer any means of betraying its master, allowing Darth Veles to become the invisible predator again, using trees as perfect cover as he moved between the ancient trunks. He only needed a moment to exert his mastery over light and sound – and his pursuer’s presence turned visible again, letting the Sith lord pinpoint her exact position. Perfect. Before anything else though, he removed his tunic, fully exposing the bloody hole adorning his stomach. The little bugger sleeping within found itself pulled out through telekinesis. A painful ordeal, but nothing a Sith couldn’t handle.

Something stirred behind the hunter’s back, an unnatural smudge as if something moved unnaturally fast.

“Over here.” The thickly accented voice belonging to her prey beckoned, whispered into her ear.

“Come. Follow me.” Came from another direction.

Grass rustled here and there, but not even the most advanced of sensors would reveal anyone treading upon the forest floor.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Thalia--"
"I'm working on it. He seems to have disguised himself through more unnatural means."
"He's Sith. It's what they do. If you pick up on anything, let me know."
"Of course. I would recommend you hide yourself just as he has. I've heard the Force can be a pain."
"You don't even understand it."
"Nor do you, so I suppose we're even."

It was then there was a disturbance behind her, but a hairpin turn brought on by a near-constant combat-readiness yielded nothing but empty space, and the whispers on the fringes of her hearing told her all she needed to know about how the rest of this fight was going to pan out. Her opponent was an assassin at heart, it seemed, and she knew from the moment he disappeared that the cards had traded hands. Stealth was not her forte by any means, and her experience in clashing with adversaries that utilized it to such a high capacity was minimal at best. This had turned into a waiting game, and already she was beginning to despise every minute of it.

When it came to clashes like these, the only thing she could really do was wait for her opponent to reveal themselves at their own volition and anticipate an attack at any moment. As much as she tried to grow out of such a strategy, she had never been truly challenged in this realm until the present moment, and it had never become a necessity. So, improvisation. At least it was something she was good at. Just as she had done earlier he'd become entirely null in the Force, his presence snuffed out like a candle in the breeze. It was an often overlooked trick, and one it seemed he enjoyed exploiting just as much as she did during this fight. Fortunately, every good soldier knew ways around even their own strategies.

"Keep your sensors monitoring the surroundings. I'm going to look around a bit."
"I'm assuming you don't mean actually looking around."
"Like you said, I don't understand the Force entirely. But I do know how to one-up it."

Intentionally slowly her breathing, she retreated to a place inside herself she rarely ventured, one that she had only dipped into on a handful of occasions, none of them as tense as a live battlefield. It made her question of this strategy would even work, but as always she pressed on regardless of the odds. There was one thing in particular she was searching for, and that happened to be where her opponent wasn't. Seeking out voids in the Force wasn't a talent she had innately held, but it was one quickly learned after contending with the Vong in numerous warzones. It wasn't a simple technique by any means, and it didn't come near as naturally as seeking out life, but it worked.

Cautiously she tapped into that far more serene side of herself, an unnatural stillness washing over her in those first few seconds, the outside world muffled and blurred, a mere smudge on the fabric of reality. It felt as if the entirety of the ethereal was open to her, when in truth this was but a fraction of the energy present just on this planet. But it was enough of a sliver to reveal to her all in the vicinity. Methodically she combed the area, picking out any oddities but always coming up short. Then there was a flicker that gave her pause, an unnatural empty space that signaled something more out of place than just her own human error. It was that she honed in on, narrowing her senses.

It took a few more moments to confirm her suspicions, and she slowly clawed her way back to some semblance of reality, allowing herself to float halfway between what was real and her internal dreamworld, slowly drawing her rifle from her back once again.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

A dark frown crossed Darth Veles’ features when his opponent’s signature revealed her simply standing there, as if the Force had opened her eyes to his tricks and lies. Quite disconcerting, especially given it offered him zero clues regarding her next action. The uncertainty weighed heavily on his mind, as both seemed to wait for the other to make the first move. Not what he had hoped to achieve, but he was a Sith, capable of adapting endlessly, ready to battle an infinite number of scenarios and emerging victorious every single time. The Dark Lord of the Sith delved deeper into the Force, fully immersed in its currents, ready to prove his mastery over the dark side. Both curved lightsabers found themselves on the ground, gently placed in front of the Sith lord’s kneeling form; deep breaths and concentration erased most traces of adrenaline pumping through his body, allowing for unprecedented focus required to tackle several techniques at once.

She was in for a surprise.

“So you’ve found me again. Splendid.” The master assassin delivered calmly, yet none could deny his words dripped hate and disdain.

With smoothness and grace so typical of him, Darth Veles emerged from behind the tree, signature and presence non-existent, although there was something highly disturbing about his aura now. Flaring to life, two blood red lightsabers announced their hunger for flesh; the one in his right hand produced an unhealthy, overly powerful hum screaming of disorder and excessive energy. It hissed and spat, crying and moaning, random and chaotic sparks of pure energy running along the barely stable blade as only its nearly indestructible phrik shell kept the weapon functional. The Sith lord appeared awfully calm, confident, taking two powerful steps towards the opponent despite holding what could become a bomb any moment. As his short-lived pace came to a halt, the unstable blade pointed at her chest place while the other remained lowered, waiting its turn.

For some inexplicable reason, there wasn’t a hint of worry as he planted one foot after another, a counter clockwise circle around the hunter ending prematurely due to the Sith lord’s sudden leap forward. Both weapons whizzed, cutting through the air. Her visor became a target for the one she had damaged earlier; its crackling beam of superheated plasma rushed at her helmet in a straight stab, though the easily avoidable maneuver served no other purpose than distract the woman once more. By now a traditional move, the second blade flicked up in an upwards thrust to take a look at the woman’s right shoulder, hoping to finish what its twin started.



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

It was all far too easy, and for that reason her hackles were instantly raised the moment his form materialized from behind the tree, seemingly as if he had been there all along. In all it was entirely plausible, but Keira had spent her entire adult life hunting and killing Sith, and knew full well they were rarely this stupid. To simply step out into the open after all that had previously transpired was a move too reckless even for the most powerful of Sith Lords, and after witnessing how her opponent fought firsthand on two separate occasions she knew he was far from the sort to leave himself so open, even if it was only for a fractional amount of time. That minuscule amount of time was easy for the enemy to take advantage of, and he wasn't the sort to allow any trace of an upper hand.

But an upper hand was just what she was looking for, even if it wouldn't be difficult to carve out in an engagement such as this. Fortunately, the woman that crafted her kit had thought ahead, and for that she was grateful. Plasma sparked against her rifle as she raised it in an impromptu block, pushing out and away in order to deflect his blades and prevent any further injury. Her already damaged right arm screamed in protest, and her block faltered at the end, forcing her to take a step back in order to avoid his strike. Immediately she swung out towards his face with the butt of the rifle, slinging it across her back with the leftover momentum, the weapon no longer useful in what had once more become close quarters.

Rather than waste time determining where her brother's tomahawk had fallen she instead drew her beskad, a weapon she herself had dubbed Ash Eater as a true testament to her Corellian heritage. The moment her hand grasped the hilt, cybernetic though the limb may have been, she was enveloped within the far too familiar adrenaline rush the darkness ushered in. Welcome though the sudden surge of energy may have been, she had to force herself to slow down and consider the ramifications of her hypothetical actions, lest she throw herself into a scenario there was no way out of. The dark was once an old friend and bitter enemy, and that was a line not easily balanced upon when it came to her dealings with it.

There would be no attack from her, as she was unwilling to waste her energy on a man she was uncertain as to the reality of. Long ago she had learned to trust her intuition, as rarely did it lie. Of course, it helped to have an extra pair of eyes as well. As she circled him slowly, her AI spoke three words that at once comforted and alarmed her, "He's not real."

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Darth Veles’ red plasma slashed against her rifle, but instead of going through as expected, the searing cut stopped in a fashion similar to when two lightsabers crossed each other’s path, reluctant to continue any further. Whether the weapon’s unusual resistance was a result of special materials or some sort of Force imbuement, the Sith now understood taking it out would require effort, both necessary and taxing, as its shielding capability ultimately presented another layer of defense he needed to peel off to get to the hunter’s vulnerabilities. Perhaps succeeding would demand him to attend in person – then again, getting to know his pursuer more without risking his real body was a valid tactic as well. While in this form, his offence capabilities were severely lacking, yet the low number of options merely represented the fact he had opted to fight the woman from afar, true form in a meditation-like trance and controlling this strange, unnatural apparition, more resembling phantoms and ghosts than real beings when it came to physical attributes.

As such, it came as no surprise when the woman’s well-aimed, swift and brutal attack did not connect with his cranium – instead of impacting the Sith lord’s face, the rifle passed straight through without a single hint of resistance, removing all doubt the saber-wielding Mon Cal was anything more than a clone, a non-existent manifestation created by someone’s mind; albeit armed with very real lightsabers. Even though he saw and heard through the apparition’s senses, his physical interaction with the world was nothing else than another trick to fool others; telekinesis was a powerful tool, essentially one of the very few powers this illusion of a body could utilize to defend itself or attack. Now she knew. How much would that knowledge aid her in defeating him, though?

The lack of response indicated his opponent focused on resolving the situation. Darth Veles – or, rather, his Force-made pretender – logically did not want her to finish her train of thought and risk his real body attacked while vulnerable. Two decisive steps carried him forth, killing the gap. Ultimately, the large, apparently heavy sword in his opponent’s hands meant nothing; disregarding any danger that could be inflicted upon the barely real form he controlled, Darth Veles commanded the puppet to extinguish one blade – the one in his left, while the unstable and damaged weapon in the cybernetic hand rushed at the woman’s visor in a stab, presenting immediate danger that demanded addressing. The Sith lord did not stop though; another step forward, and the arm holding the extinguished lightsaber rushed forward in a way that revealed his intention of planting the hilt directly under the hunter’s armpit, pointed up, a move that would ensure devastating damage once the blade burst to life again.

Normally, he’d never dare to take such risk – the Sith lord had zero intention of getting another cybernetic limb, and the motion promised dismemberment. This wasn’t his body, though. Not entirely. Just a shell to be used and discarded, a product of his willpower, a disposable unit perfectly suited for extremely risky, yet infinitely rewarding strikes such as this.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Somehow the illusion held more present danger than his true self had, though perhaps that was just because he had less fear of endangering a pretender than he did his physical form. It was a trick Keira knew he couldn't keep up forever, and while she wasn't keen on waiting it out she wasn't willing to risk further injury by searching for where her opponent truly resided. This was just one more test to stand up to until he was content to reveal himself once more, and she was resolved to put an end to things once and for all. She hadn't been toying with him in the least before, but there was a more efficient side to her brutality that tended to ignore her own self-preservation for a time, and she was willing to unleash it if it meant killing a Sith.

Her left hand was up in an instant to catch the lightsaber darting towards her visor in the phrik-plated palm, and she pushed outwards and away in some sort of makeshift parry. The second saber, once more reaching out for her right arm, was intercepted with her own telekinetic grip before it could reach its mark. Well, at least hopefully. There was no shift of her hand to indicate it, and she only stood there, beskad held at her side as she was locked in a battle of wills against the doppelganger before her. Had this been his true form she would have next struck with a kick to the stomach meant to leave him open and create breathing room, but she'd already witnessed firsthand that physical attacks of any sort would have no effect.

This was by far not the first true stalemate their fight had reached, but she resolved to make it the last. Her left hand was still raised and poised to deflect or otherwise impede his second blade from dealing any damage other than the superficial sort against the resistant materials of her false limb. He may have had more tricks up his sleeve than herself, but she had improvisation and quick, often reckless thinking on her side. Most opponents wouldn't allow themselves to get as friendly with the super-heated plasma blade of a lightsaber as she had, but most didn't have such a disregard for their own personal safety. So long as she lived to tell the tale, this fight could continue for as long as he wished.

But she wouldn't allow that.

[member="Darth Veles"]