As Promised

[Darth Veles]

Pitting his reign over telekinesis against hers was a lost battle, and even though he realized that, accepting it was a whole different matter. Required to divide focus between maintaining the spectral form and holding two weapons, the Sith lord could not defy his opponent’s telekinetic mastery despite most certainly trying to do so and finishing his move, to no avail. The fact frustrated him to no end, and while such powerful emotion meant a slight increase in power, not even the boost offered enough strength to overpower the woman’s own. Both blades remained stuck in the invisible clash of will.

Unable to retreat or advance, they hissed venomously, promising painful retaliation the moment their owner managed to set them free upon the hunter’s weak spots. Such plan wasn’t one the Sith lord wished to follow though. Needlessly exhausting himself by trying to overpower his opponent’s telekinetic grip on his weapons did not guarantee success, and thus he did the only other thing he could in this form.

By letting go of both hilts and thus placing them in the hunter’s control, Darth Veles partially freed his focus, now able to redirect the Force originally binding the two weapons to his hands upon the woman. Not immediately; first he had to claim a better spot, one worthy an assassin like him. Such special spot was right behind her – and lacking physical presence in the world, the apparition could achieve that quite easily. He didn’t announce or declare his intent; the Sith lord acted with swiftness and ease, knowing there was no possible way to get injured or wounded, thus all caution binding his actions went out of the window.

The struggle for lightsabers suddenly died without a warning, and albeit it was a particularly strange experience, the Sith lord used his phantom-like vessel to walk right through her, bypassing the mysterious opponent's armour and flesh alike. Graceful and confident steps simply brought him right in front of the armoured figure and continued without ever stopping, defying her presence and delivering Darth Veles right in her back, where the illusionary clone of his spun around, eyeing the rifle.

Not wasting any time, the Sith lord’s telekinetic efforts focused upon the weapon to summon it from her back, all concentration put into the task meant to claim her deadly rifle, seize it, wield it – and, of course, give the hunter a taste of her own medicine by opening fire at her.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

For the first few seconds Keira was caught off guard by the sudden release of the sabers, but the moment she fully realized what had happened her left hand curled into a fist, a physical supplement to her attempt at crushing the internal systems of the weapon in order to render them both useless. Her hand wrenched to the side in order to throw the hilts into the jungle, hopefully disarming her opponent of all effective weaponry and leaving him solely with the tomahawk she intended to recover. If she had any luck this fight was nearing its end, but she knew full well her adversary was far more resourceful than that. He wouldn't allow this to end until all resources were expended, and that was a long way off.

The sensation of his phantom body passing through her tangible form was an alien, uncomfortable feeling, but she ground her teeth in order to dislodge the feeling. As her rifle was wrenched off of her back she didn't have quite enough time to counter it, instead turning to face the illusion of the Sith head-on in order to better counter it. The blaster screamed once just as she made her turn, plasma crashing against her shoulder and chest plates, sending her backwards from the sheer force of the impact. There would no doubt be bruising and burns beneath her armor, but the plating held up as well as had been promised, even under the duress of a weapon meant to throw a grown man backwards with the velocity of each shot.

Breathing came difficultly in those moments after the shot impacted, but she forced herself to her feet, using that pain as power just as she'd been taught. Her beskad had landed next to her, the blade soon finding its way back to its sheathe, having worn out its usefulness and perhaps never harboring any in such a scenario. Just as quickly the shielding built into her left arm sprung to life, the next successive shots impacting against it and causing her to slide backwards, booted feet planted firmly on the ground. As much as she despised being on the wrong end of any weapon, she had to admire just how the rifle was made. It certainly had stopping power, but this was what happened when an unstoppable force met an immovable object.

Loathe though she was to cause any lasting damage to the rifle, disabling it for the time being was another matter altogether. If she was lucky he would damage it himself from firing too many bursts far too quickly, but there were other means of incapacitating the weapon. Once again she reached out with the ethereal, grappling with his own invisible grip in order to wrench the weapon away, at once attempting to shift the internal components in order to stop it from firing for the duration of the fight. While it might prove debilitating to her own arsenal in the long run, she was willing to make the sacrifice so long as he was equally at a loss.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Even the briefest of glances revealed the weapon deceptively posed like an ancient model in appearance. Not that it acted as such, quite the opposite. Once the Dark Lord’s telekinetic squeeze stroked the trigger, it burst in a deadly shower of red, proving far greater efficiency than its looks originally suggested. Immense satisfaction flared to life in the real Sith lord’s gut upon witnessing the hunter driven back by the sheer impact power. Seeing his efforts rewarded, opponent suddenly on the defensive and forced to focus on survival, Darth Veles repeated the formula of success. Another short-lived burst headed her way, this time meeting the woman’s shimmering shield that decided to show more punctuality than the last time, bravely presenting an impenetrable wall to spare the armour more charred humiliation. Somewhat disappointing after the striking hits, yet none could deny the blaster’s power when its barking load still carried enough strength to forcefully shove the enemy backwards.

One short burst, then another, a short pause, more shots. Darth Veles’ barrage lacked any sort of pattern, most likely completely random or periodic in a way only he understood. Denying her any chance to adapt, find a window of opportunity in his chaotic spam of attacks, the Sith lord felt fairly confident of his chances. All he had to do was wait until the shield gave away – provided the weapon had enough ammo capacity for that. Such tactic proved a dead end though. For one reason or another, after spitting out more deadly insults at its former owner, the rifle refused to unleash more scarlet bolts, no matter how hard he pulled the trigger. Dead, reduced to nothing more than a lightsaber resistant chunk of metal, the rifle turned into a liability the Sith lord had zero need of. Completely disregarding its use and feeling the opponent’s telekinetic grip trying to wrestle it from his hands, he complied; adding to her telekinesis, the phantom launched the weapon at its original owner.

Finding himself weaponless, but with hands free again, it came as no surprise the Dark Lord of the Sith shifted his attention towards the so very tempting beskad, no longer sleeping peacefully in its sheath. Its edge rattled in eagerness as the spectral Mon Calamari pulled the same trick as before, this time attempting to pull the sword out of its prison and claim it as his own. Repeating the original stunt would do little good though – he anticipated the opponent’s readiness, and thus instead of yanking on the sword too hard and too long, his telekinesis suddenly turned its focus to none other than the woman herself. First came a push away, immediately followed by an equally powerful pull back, an attempt at whiplash.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

When the rifle was finally rendered useless she was allowed it back within her possession, slinging it across her back, that familiar pressure almost comforting if she hadn't known it was dead weight at this point. Keira rolled her left shoulder once in order to work the joint from the stress, thankful for the durability of the cybernetic and the shielding installed within the arm itself. There would be no lasting damage from the impact of the shots, though she felt the strain in the nerves and muscle the false limb was attached to. It was better than suffering a direct hit, but she would still be feeling the aftereffects for a week or so afterwards.

His hold on the beskad was countered for the brief few seconds he attempted to steal it from its sheathe, but quickly enough his focus shifted to her personally, his grip sudden and vice-like grip across her abdomen, driving the breath from her. In order to lessen the injury from the whiplash she stabilized herself with the Force, still able to feel the wrenching of her neck and the strain on the muscle. Her right hand twisted sharply in her best attempt to break his hold with her own telekinetic strength, allowing her to hopefully land on her feet and thereby muster a counter before he had the opportunity to gather his wits about him and formulate another attack.

For the first time in the course of their clash she drew on the Force with full intent, releasing a shimmering wave of energy into the jungle behind and through the illusion, the blast capable of leveling small trees and uprooting less firmly rooted flora, otherwise sending dirt and debris flying. If she had any luck it would find his meditating form - his true form - and break him out of his trance, causing the illusion to disappear. If the strike hit true, he would be knocked backwards, giving her time to recuperate and deal another blow. If.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Wrestling free from his invisible grip wasn’t much of a feat. After all, the woman did not have to divide her attention and focus, thus her telekinetic mastery shattered the Sith lord’s hold over her body without facing much difficulty. Denied his victory, Darth Veles’s clone recoiled from her powerful resistance, but immediately started to muster the anger and hatred necessary to give him the edge over her and finally deliver a blow devastating enough to leave her crippled and broken. Amassing such strength wasn’t an immediate feat; the entire process of drinking from the dark side’s well of infinite power took time, as the Sith lord desired to ensure success. It ultimately boiled down to whether he could conjure the strength to penetrate her defences or not – and prioritizing offence over defence still, he never even considered she stood a chance at endangering his real body. Not believing she would throw away so much energy just to harass his immobile, hidden vessel, the Sith lord was taken by surprise when the hunter unleashed a mighty blast that went right through him and washed over the jungle.

Trees valiantly defied the unseen wave of energy crashing against them. Some resisted and creaked in sheer effort, others fell, broken, and a whirlwind of leaves and dirt continued to linger and dance over the jungle before settling down in eerie silence. No sign of the Sith lord – the ghostly projection was gone without leaving a single trace, indicating some measure of success. Quite the contrary though. After dancing around and exchanging positions with his opponent, the Sith lord’s illusionary vessel became a poor indicator of his real whereabouts, which greatly projected into the blast’s success; missing his position. Arguably, the telekinetic wave would have interrupted him otherwise. Darth Veles was a slippery foe though. Playing along, he tugged at the delicate fibres of sound. A panicked scream mimicking his own voice banished the serene silence, coming from under a nearby toppled tree, hoping to summon the hunter there.

Coiling the cloaking technique around himself once more, the real body of Darth Veles rose, no longer locked in the slumber-like meditation. Admittedly, the fight’s been exhausting so far. Employing so many expensive techniques and powers came at a cost, high enough to break lesser beings – but the cybernetically enhanced Sith lord wasn’t one of them. Deep breaths rhythmically filled and emptied his lungs as he drew a short blade, bathed in Sith alchemy to achieve infinite sharpness and near indestructible properties. His last weapon – minus the alchemized dagger and his opponent’s tomahawk, the latter of which he held in the other hand. When short on tools, sacrificing another to arm a new clone with would be way too risky for his liking. Gripping both weapons firmly, he set off to find the enemy himself. Invisible, inaudible, impossible to detect in the great currents of the Force, the master assassin planted each step carefully enough to avoid disturbing the ground, taking great care to not unveil his latest trickery just yet. Getting in his opponent’s back without detection was paramount – after that, he would do what assassins did best.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

When the illusion disappeared Keira was even more on edge, knowing full well that it meant his physical form was once more conscious and capable of dealing damage. On the other hand, that also meant she was able to injure him in return, finally giving her the ability to end the fight once and for all. Still he remained persistently hidden, a void in the fabric of reality, impossible to detect unless one was willing to dedicate the time and effort necessary to do so. After what had happened the first time she wasn't inclined to immerse herself in the ethereal in order to locate him again, and so conceded to more conventional methods in order to determine just where her opponent stood in relation to her.

"Thalia, he's up and around again."
"Scanners?"
"Thermal. If it worked once, it will again."

Soon enough she was viewing her surroundings in shades varying from blues and greens to oranges and reds, screening out the smaller and insignificant signatures and searching for those the size and shape of humanoids. Her HUD afforded her 360 degree vision, allowing her to make quick work of her surroundings and narrow down the signatures until she found the Sith. Without bothering to disguise her movements - hopefully he wasn't anticipating her actually being able to see him - she drew her beskad, the taint of darkness the blade naturally radiated whispering sweet nothings once more, promising power if only she would obey its will. Long ago she had learned to ignore the temptation, but still the hissing voice persisted.

Minutes of eerie silence followed, before Thalia painted bright red across her HUD, right where a new heat signature had manifested. It was the AI's silent indication that her enemy had been spotted, but she didn't react, allowing him to believe that he was still invisible. Taking the bait he offered she walked over to the downed tree as if searching for a body, all the while keeping a close eye on the presence marked for death.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Even though it was hardly necessary, the assassin held his breath in anticipation of success. Slow steps brought the Sith lord closer to his target, taking meticulous care to eliminate any and all sounds his approach might have produced. No mistakes allowed – especially since he finally stood so close to ending the duel and his opponent alike in one powerful stab. Patience was a virtue, and while often brutally underestimated, the fruit it produced tasted sweeter than anything else. He was about to take a bite - Darth Veles was a man of infinite patience, never rushing through when it came to moving unseen and unheard. Still, none could deny the enjoyment he felt when stalking his prey and orchestrating their death. Killing itself left him completely indifferent; the thrill of the hunt, though?

Creeping up on such an experienced and obviously powerful enemy provided the Sith assassin with immense excitement, reminding him of the times he used to do this sort of thing much more often. Just a few seconds separated him from his victim, yet he already felt victory run through his veins. Indeed; Darth Veles could not deny the rightfully earned pride when it came to assassinations. A professional, he always liked to see his plans come together, a perfect, clean execution that sent his opponents straight down the Void’s depths.

Muscles flexed as he cautiously lowered the blade, just enough to allow it an undisturbed journey right into her stomach; he had noticed the lack of armour there when he fought the woman up close earlier. Amber eyes never left the woman’s back, spying on her attempts to find a confirmation of his demise beneath the fallen tree. Three long and powerful strides delivered the Sith lord closer – now he merely needed another step to close the short gap. A distant scream came from somewhere far behind them both, nothing more than another of his tricks to play on the woman’s nerves and make her turn around.

In that very moment, the assassin finally lunged forth, thrusting his short blade towards her abdomen to run her through.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

This was not her first time clashing with an individual who fancied themselves an assassin, and she intended to prove that. Even as every instinct screamed at her to turn around as he approached her from behind, she played along like willing prey until the last possible second, wanting every opportunity to catch him off guard and turn the fight immediately to her favor. Only when the second cry was projected did she turn, seemingly the epitome of a surprised victim if it wasn't for the blade in her right hand flicking up to block the stab of his dagger despite the agony the action elicited from the wound present. Instead of succumbing to the pain she instead allowed it to fuel her next action, riding out the waves of trauma.

Her left hand shot up in the next moment to grab him by the throat in a vice-like grip, and she used that cybernetically enhanced strength to drive him to the ground - theoretically. Should that prove successful she would only hold the deadly sharp edge of the beskad to his throat, the presence of the weapon enough of a reminder of his own mortality, especially so in that moment. Just because she hadn't killed him just yet didn't mean the moment wasn't to come, because if she had her way it would, and swiftly. All it would take was the slightest application of pressure or an activation of the repulse hand built into the cybernetic, and it would be over.

A fitting, violent end.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The Sith lord’s naturally calm, collected expression suddenly displayed shock and surprise when his enemy spun around – and though it was a part of his plan, the same could not be said about her precise, unforgiving block that stepped in his dagger’s way. Although sharp, the alchemized sword harmlessly slid against her beskad, defiantly screeching when denied the hunter’s blood. Too late did Darth Veles realize she must have outsmarted him by playing an unsuspecting victim – and before he could raise his hands in defence and effectively counter the attack, the woman’s deadly cybernetic grip seized his neck. Caught unprepared, not much struggle accompanied his way down. It simply happened in a few abrupt motions and the Sith lord found himself on his knees. All signs of belligerence vanished alongside the fighting spirit; both weapons resignedly fell from his hands, landing in the grass and presenting no threat. Just like the man himself – suddenly a docile lamb calmly waiting for the killing blow, face showing humility and silent acceptance.

Small stream of brilliant scarlet came into existence when her large sword’s edge kissed his throat; blood swiftly succumbed to gravity and ran down his bare torso, painting a red line. Darth Veles’ amber sight first addressed her belly where his dagger should have slipped in. For all the burning disappointment he felt, there was surprisingly little fear in the man’s gaze when he looked up at the hunter, staring at her helmet. Slowly, his left hand sneaked towards the woman’s gauntleted right wrist, a subtle touch in a desperate attempt to elevate some pressure of her sword’s deadly sharpness from his neck. A forced smile graced his expression. This couldn’t be the end – and although death would certainly put his spirit’s immortality to the test, the Sith lord rejected such notion, never ceasing his search for ways to cheat the inevitable.

“Bravo, mighty warrior. You’ve proven yourself stronger. I kneel before you, defeated and disarmed; but before you strike the killing blow, grant your foe one last favour, friend.” His strongly accented, yet surprisingly smooth and soothing voice declared, trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

Just like his other hand, the cybernetic replacement clawed up to tug on her clothes covering her abdomen, a hopeless gesture begging the woman for momentary clemency.

“Tell me. Who was it that hired you?! Was it the Sith Order? Do my old One Sith colleagues desire to orchestrate my death? Or am I completely mistaken and the call came from the Galactic Alliance and its Jedi enforcers?”

He needed to know. Establishing direct eye contact was the key - and with subtlety natural to assassins, the Sith lord tried to gently and discreetly placate her rage and appease her sense of mercy, if only enough to get his answers.


[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

There was something he didn't quite seem to understand about her opinion regarding the Sith. They were an order better off dead in her eyes, and she didn't need to be coaxed into action with credits in order to take to hunting them. More than that, the chances of her bending to the will of another collective of Sith were slim to none. She would sooner see the entirety of them eliminated than subject herself to their bidding even for a fleeting amount of time. The same went for the Jedi - almost - though they were at the very least more tolerable than their antagonistic counterparts. A sect of compliant, stagnant peacekeepers were acceptable when compared to an order that had wreaked nigh endless havoc on the galaxy for as long as they existed.

Her grip shirted on the beskad just slightly, relieving exactly none of the pressure, the darkness imbued into the weapon itself not sated by the crimson that wet its edge but instead demanding more. The unnaturally tight grip of her cybernetic arm refused to cease just as obstinately, and she only watched him for a moment behind the faint, light blue glow of her visor that rendered her just another faceless dealer of death. It was the same mask he'd known her as previously, and the only one he would ever become familiar with. She owed him nothing, his attempt at gaining any semblance of mercy falling on deaf ears. There was nothing he could say that would persuade her, and if he was as smart as he'd made himself out to be previously he would recognize that.

"I wasn't hired. Killing Sith isn't something I need to be persuaded to do." The pressure of the blade on his neck increased just slightly, cutting mere millimeters deeper, the action intended to cause pain rather than end his life. "Your life is meaningless to me on its own."

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

“You… you were not hired?” The Sith lord stuttered, unable to grasp her response at first. Truly, he had suspected many parties interested in his demise, but meeting a lone hunter acting of her own accord wasn’t one of the scenarios. Now he needed to play his cards right. Not only his life depended on it; she wasn’t a fan of Sith, much like himself, although the Sith lord would call the group differently.

Ironic, really – fate was a cruel mistress, pitting the last Sith in the galaxy against a Sith hunter that had yet to see the glaring difference between her newest victim and those who unrightfully used the Sith name. Gulping, eyeing the edge of her weapon and feeling it bite into his neck, Darth Veles planted his artificial palm upon her stomach and let it rest there in complete stillness, no longer grasping at the woman’s apparel.

“This is a bitter end, my friend. I would have pointed you in the right direction if I had known killing Sith is a passion of yours.” A gentle laugh followed, albeit somewhat restrained by her blade. His orbs coloured in warm amber darted over to the jungle, as if spying on something.

His cybernetic hand was ready to eject the hidden blade built within the wrist, awaiting the Sith lord's command. It wouldn't save his life, but if he had a chance to take his killer on a one way trip to the Void, he would take it.

“What if I told you exterminating those who call themselves Sith is my life’s goal? I, too, oppose the spoiled degenerates who are Sith in name only.” The Sith lord revealed.

His breathing halted as the large domed head turned up to look upon the helmet again, knowing her eyes stared right back.

“What I ask for is not mercy – I merely wish you to know that my death will only remove another thorn from our common foe's side. You will gain nothing aside from killing a man who wants to burn the pretenders alongside their heretical ways.”



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

His surprise was entirely foreign to her, but she supposed that hunters weren't used to becoming the hunted merely of another's whim and nothing more. Typically there was more motivation behind it, credits or prestige being offered, but Keira was no such mercenary when it came to excursions like these. Sometimes the thrill of the fight offered was enjoyment in and of itself, and it had certainly been some time besides that she had faced an opponent which challenged her on the same level that the Sith had. Even with a blade to his throat she was certain that he was still developing a plan to get out of this alive somehow, and although he was the enemy that was something she had to admire, for she often possessed the same level of obstinance in the face of overwhelming odds.

Watching him for a moment with narrowed eyes beneath her helmet she sighed in a way that hissed between her teeth, contemplating the true value of keeping him alive. She would lose no sleep at night over ending his life, but when one could use their enemy as a tool against a greater threat it begged the question of how much a waste of resources it would be to kill them. And so was the dilemma she was presently faced with. Ending it here had the potential of getting rid of a resource she could use later, but there was no telling how much trouble he would prove to be later. He was an opportunistic hunter, and she knew he wouldn't pass up the chance for retaliation should the opportune moment arise.

Those few minutes of contemplation seemed to last an eternity, but finally she removed the edge of the beskad from his throat, utilizing the artificial strength of her cybernetic around his neck to throw him away, turning and sheathing the blade before she changed her mind. Looking to him again, she granted him the only warning he would receive, "You can try to kill me now that I've let you live, but understand that I won't be so merciful next time. Be thankful you're being allowed to leave alive, and maybe I won't regret my decision and rectify it later." Turning her back on him properly for the first time since the fight began, she made her way back to the clearing, picking up both her brother's and her own tomahawk, hooking them at her waist side-by-side.

"The enemy of my enemy--"
"Is my enemy's enemy. I know, Thalia."
"I just want you to understand what you've gotten yourself into."
"I don't need a reminder."

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Just one short flight across the battlefield later, the duel reached its end, leaving just one combatant standing. Stillness took over and silence gained permission to rest undisturbed, and while all facts pointed at the lying man, announcing his defeat, Darth Veles begged to differ. After hitting the forest floor and rolling over the ground, the Sith lord scrambled to his knees, sly smile curling the corners of his lips. Whether his opponent realized or not, he emerged victorious – surviving alone counted as victory, gaining a new asset further solidified it. Indeed, a vastly better alternative than slaying the woman and leaving her carcass for animals to feast upon. There was zero doubt she would come to regret sparing his life sooner or later, but such things had to be expected when it came to Sith.

Even though by no means a genocidal maniac who betrayed his allies for the sake of it, Darth Veles was still an opportunist, taking calculated risks and more than willing to backstab his way through friends and foes alike if the gain proved far too great to refuse. Right now, the woman was an asset – her fighting capabilities and a particularly strong opinion about the Sith could not be denied, and both would serve the amphibious Sith lord’s interests well. For a time – the very same things made her existence undesired in the long run, but he would wait until the newest asset turned into a liability before acting. She had to know it as well, making him wonder if she’d watch over her shoulder more often from now on.

Violating the jungle’s serenity, Darth Veles’ gentle, yet dark and foreboding laughter started to resonate with undisputed victory, cut short with a pronounced sigh. Before doing anything else, his burning orange glare stabbed the former opponent in the back, watching her with immense satisfaction. A simple flick of his hand summoned one lost weapon after another, until the Sith lord stood armed with the same arsenal as before, minus one tomahawk. A very acceptable sacrifice all things considered.

“Don’t worry. You have made the right choice, I promise.” The Mon Cal delivered softly, voice so sweet one almost wanted to instinctively trust his lie that was no lie at all; deceitful tongues knew how to please their listeners while spouting poison.

“Tell me, worthy adversary. How can I repay you?”



[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"There is no right choice when it comes to your kind." Keira halted in her progress, turning to look upon him one final time where he stood, his figure fully armed once more but no longer exuding an aura of deadly intent. The both of them were finished with the fight, having tired of combat and now more concerned with tending to their own wounds. Her breathing came a touch shallower due to the bruising and burns across her chest, and she was already taking stock of which injuries would require a trip to the medbay and which she could remedy herself. On top of that her kit needed repairing, and she knew it would take a complete disassembly of her EE-3 to reconfigure its internal components.

His laughter didn't faze her, as she knew this would more like than not come to a fight between them at a later date, a thought she was already at peace with. A second chance would give her the opportunity to eliminate any chance of him becoming a further problem, but until then she was taking that risk and mostly accepted the consequences. If she had it her way the pair would rarely cross paths from this day forward, as this had been the only intentional run-in, and if she had her way the last. Of course, she knew fate wouldn't be so kind. Corellians never questioned the odds, and she was already fully aware of just how damning they could be.

"You can start by making certain we never cross paths again." And with that she turned to leave, silently daring him to make a move.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

“You have no idea.”

Another short laugh escaped the Sith lord’s lips, brought to this world by his former opponent’s remark about the Sith. She was awfully right about his kind, possibly more than she would ever realize. Surprising for someone outside of the order, then again, completely ignoring the latest incarnations of Sith empires and the wars they wrought was an impossible feat. Darth Veles regarded the woman with a curious, analysing look; he couldn’t really say how much experience the hunter had when it came to dark side practitioners following the ancient code, but if her prowess in combat was anything to go by, he’d say she must have killed her share of lightsaber-wielding foes. Nothing more than competitors and pretenders; the amphibious Sith lord was most thankful for that, as it meant she was doing his work for him.

Thoughts concerning his original purpose on Dathomir came to mind. Once the empowering adrenaline rush started to die down though, pain eagerly rushed back, hand in hand with various effects stemming from the injuries he had sustained. After all, there was a hole in his abdomen, still spewing out crimson drops of blood that mixed with the same liquid running from his neck and dripping on leaves and grass. What an unusual sight. It’s been too long since someone tested his skills so thoroughly. Definitely an enlightening experience, one he would meditate upon after fixing the gravest injuries dotting his form. Raising the cybernetic hand, stripped bare of artificial flesh, Darth Veles admired his opponent’s handiwork. Without ever tearing his gaze away from the damaged arm, as there was nobody else than the armoured warrior to hear his words, he spoke again.

“Your hobby makes another encounter quite likely, hunter,” replied the Sith smoothly, finally looking at her retreating form as careful steps carried him through the impenetrable green sea of Dathomir’s forests as well, “Though I have a feeling we’ll join forces in the future.”


[member="Keira Ticon"]