Duel Dagger

[Xashe Tistya]

DEEP SPACE LISTENING POST // NEAREST SYSTEM: SELVARIS
ALLIANCE-BROTHERHOOD BORDERSPACE
DISTRESS SIGNAL RECEIVED
you sold your knowledge to sink the silent cries of pain
Zaavik Perl

​

The rumble of the engines on the x-wing came to an abrupt halt, an eerie silence filling its wake. A glance back to the screen upon the mantle affirmed this was the place. The outward devastation the mirialan expected from a distress signal this close to the border was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was nothing- no hail when her ship made the jump, no acknowledgment of her docking. The lack of any signs of life was much more unsettling than if the whole post had been lit up. When a threat reveals itself, you can confront it; when it hid, the hunter became the hunted.

"You stay here, bud." She whispered to the bb-unit in the back of her cockpit. "And be quiet! I have a bad feeling this'll be enough trouble without you causing more."

The assault on her senses came on the moment she jumped from the ship. The smell of iron filled her nostrils, so thick it almost caused her to gag. Somewhere beneath it was the smoke of blaster fire. She tensed, looking around the hangar slowly. No signs of life- no boogeymen in the shadows. Still, the hairs on the back of her neck stood straight. Reaching to the force, trails of light extended from herself outward, probing. It didn't take but a few moments for the wall of pain and desperation to reveal itself. A sharp exhale channeled their tension, the Jedi fighting to separate herself from the snaring web of negative emotion.

The kind of fear that made you want to scream and run took root in her bones- instinctual, the innate desire to survive demanding you leave and never return. Determination drove Xashe forward in spite of it. Such darkness was only birthed by death- and whoever these people were, they deserved justice for their anguish. A sure hand slipped the blade of deliverance from her belt, golden light coming to life in her hand. Iva seemed to vibrate at the call. Xashe could feel the crystal's recognition of the darkness, reminded of the corruption once imposed on it. It was compelled by the same duty its wielder was.

The destruction didn't reveal itself until she was firmly within the bowels of the small station. First, a few overturned crates, missed blaster shots gone right through the metal sheets of the wall. Rounding the corner of the hall was like entering a different place. Four corpses, uniformed in the colors of the navy, littered the ground. The blood of one had created a pool throughout the hall. Red footsteps led onward from it. Xashe knelt gently, inspecting their faces. Gingerly, a hand reached for the top of an elder man, pulling the cloth away to reveal a cauterized wound across his belly. The groan almost caused her to jump. Her eyes quickly flickered to the face of the soldier, finding his half-open, swimming with anguish.

"Please... Hel-lp me, J-J-Jed-" A cough interrupted his words, blood spilling from his mouth with it.

Her eyes flickered back to the wound. Grief filled the lines of her face as the man radiated his own. Helplessness overwhelmed her, leading to a stroke of frustration. She couldn't save him; all she could do was ease his passing. A soft blue glow took to his pale skin, her hand growing warm as the light flowing through it. The pink wound seemed to become angrier at her energy, but the man relaxed, his expression fading to peaceful bliss. A few moments later, it slackened, blank. There was no time given to acknowledge the hollowness the encounter had left within. A quiet beep drew her attention. Blue eyes flickered upward, towards the soft glow of screens escaping a cracked door at the end of the hall. Xashe rose, boots leaving their own set of prints as she approached the room.​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

COME TASTE THIS BLADE
​

Bodies of the dead and dying littered the operating bridge in the wake of the listening post's tenebrous interloper. Havoc echoed visually along the path he had taken. Terminals fountained sparks, wires hung like severed vines from breakers and cable housings, and electronic debris and metallic scraps lay strewn about the bridge. Dozens of deep, charred-black slices, unmistakably the path of a malicious saber, were the origin point that birthed every picture of carnage. Neither man, woman, droid, nor object was spared from the prejudiceless sundering.

A bloody, gloved hand strained to the peak of its reach, fished blindly through a tangle of wires and computing components. Another held a small device that had been intrusively wired into the same terminal its counterpart was shoved into. Heterochromic eyes watched the changing values and stream of data on the device's compact screen. Values shifted as searching fingers found and tugged loose a series of wires, each break away causing the terminal to emit a high pitched chime. Once the data on the screen matched what was sought, sensationless fingers drifted from the wires, clutched a searing hot computational core and ripped free its housing.

Errors and malfunctions overloading the terminal manifested as a prolonged beep, a digital scream of anguish and confusion. The forced defect overloaded the device, an electrical pop reverberated through the bridge, sparks rained from the open panel. Unphased, the interloper tucked the core into a satchel and moved for the next terminal with a lax absence of haste. Intrusive cord from his handheld device detached, snaked itself back into the dispenser with a rotary hiss.

A presence stopped him. Snapping to the entryway, the sinister gaze of the intruder watched with an invested scrutiny. As it persisted, the nuances to the presence became as clear as the sparks that still flew before him. It wasn't another post operator. It was familiar, strong with the force. A Jedi. Several thoughts considered who it could be. Overbearing hatred overtook the inclination to be curious before it could fully blossom. A venemous scowl formed on Zaavik's face before it shimmered from visibility. His figure, veiled in black cloak, became entirely undetectable at the slightest whim. Unseen boots treaded silent steps around the remains of several server towers, skulking into a position to strike.

Xashe Tistya​

 

[Xashe Tistya]

The wanton destruction of the control room greeted the mirialan as she stepped in. Pushing the sleeves of her jacket up, Xashe moved to the screens, hoping to shed light on the events that had played out here- or why. Instead, only a blue screen saw fit to reveal itself. Frowning, the knight looked around. The glow cast sinister shadows across every corner of the otherwise dark area. Eyes scanned each cranny, adjusting to the dimness, to reveal nothing- yet the feeling of being watched grew.

She needed answers, but only found more questions. With a frustrated sigh, the Jedi placed an open palm on the mantle. Perhaps she was hopeless in the realm of tech, but there were other avenues. A throbbing in her temples presented itself as the mirialan battled time itself. The force changed with the current, a white fuzz taking to her vision as she looked back to the past. Shadows. Rage. Feral. Then, familiarity.

Xashe stumbled back with a gasp, releasing her hold on the desk. The room spun around her as she returned to the present. She had to work to get back to herself- to push past the shock, and the hatred that had been influenced by another.

​