Faction Death to Traitors | A Operation Cinder Story

[Prowler II]

Xenith flinched at the greeting and tucked himself halfway behind a wall. "H-Hello," the boy uttered weakly...

Kyric found his attention shifting between Bernard and Xenith more with each second. Something about the encounter spooked the boy, but Kyric couldn't quite put his finger on it...

What was it about Bernard that put the boy on the defensive?

..Kyric tugged faintly at the invisible thread he knew to connect him and Bernard of Arca since Coruscant. The shared trauma of quite literally losing their eyes—back-to-back—at the hands of Prowler and Creuat forged an unbreakable bond Kyric heavily relied on in the two years since he last saw Bernard. It delivered him through the worst of his imprisonment.

When Kyric followed that thread, it led not to the man standing before him, but somewhere else. More importantly, the individual on the other side of that connection burned with such violent yearning. It was a stark juxtaposition to the well-mannered and well-meaning man before him.

The Jedi Knight slid out of reach and activated Silic's old saber.

"Yer not Bernard," Kyric narrowed his eyes. "Xenith get into the cockpit and lock the door! Get the droid movin'! Now!"

As if waiting for Kyric's queue, Xenith turned and bolted.

Thats...Interesting. That was faster than the others.

Prowler noted to himself the remarkable display of perception with a respectful awe and surprise. Raising a brow and letting his maw gap oh so slightly in genuine expression. The moment fixed in his arkanian hosts conscious and into the paradoxical essence that was Prowler. Coalesced from the netherworld itself, as old as time and experiencing a new feeling that might as well of made him the blindman.

Far faster.

When the lightsaber activated between them was when the curtain fell. Transfixed on the young kiffar, the elderly arkanian let out a grunt. It turned into a heinous chuckle. " Mhhmm hhhmhmhhhmmhhhmmm. Heh!" With a flash the lightsaber in his hand hissed to life and baptized the room in a crimson shade. A creeping coldsnap of darkside energy that was paired with the sadistic cunning of his Master, Darth Solipsis .

" Oooh my young pupil. How Lord Creuat 's pride will be wounded, when he discovers.... The son of the sword. Blessed with foresight." The elders facial features went blank. " Indeed, you are powerful!!." His pale eyes went wild! Prowlers saber flourishing with a tight two hand twist and driving a diagonal slash in an attempt to pin Kyric and his weapon against the corridor with a clash!

[OOC: PAGE CLAIM FOR THE EMPIRE!]​

 

[Kyric]

The snap-hiss of Prowler's lightsaber heralded the corruptive power of the dark side a split-second before the cold flooded the chamber.

Kyric lifted his blade across his body to parry the oncoming strike. His opponent moved forward with such momentum the kiffar was forced to slide a foot backward, lessening the power behind his block. He gripped the saber with both hands and pushed back with all his strength against the taller, stronger opponent.

Prowler moved forward with the weight of an avalanche, while Kyric struggled desperately to still the disaster waiting to happen. The Jedi slid back across the durasteel floor and felt his back press against the threshold's frame. Prowler pressed in, the spirit's blade inching closer and closer to Kyric's neck with each second. He exhaled a deep breath, teeth gritted together in the face of the Dark Jedi Master's taunting.

"You freaks can't take no fer an answ- tch," Kyric twisted his wrist to the side and forced Prowler's blade up just far enough to slip beneath it and beside his foe. He swept his borrowed saber out in a wide arc, only to reveal the blow as a faint in the instant before impact. The kiffar drew back, raised the blade high, and swept downward as if to bisect the ancient arkanian from head to groin.

In the cockpit, Xenith sat at the helm and stared blankly at the controls. The young echani couldn't make heads-or-tails of the contraption.

"Beep-boop, brrrr, waaaooorw!" the astromech, a repurposed R2-Q5 model, whirred incessantly at the boy. It wobbled toward the terminal and injected its scomp-link directly into the ship.

The light-freighter wobbled in answer. It rose slowly, then shot forward with zero warning to the duelists!

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Tags: Prowler II

 

[Prowler II]

"You freaks can't take no fer an answ- tch," Kyric twisted his wrist to the side and forced Prowler's blade up just far enough to slip beneath it and beside his foe. He swept his borrowed saber out in a wide arc, only to reveal the blow as a faint in the instant before impact. The kiffar drew back, raised the blade high, and swept downward as if to bisect the ancient arkanian from head to groin.

The elders advance had been executed with an exquisite precision. Yet like a game of sabacc, the kiffars hand revealed itself with a dexterous combative sleight. The two blades whined with their prolonged embrace, flickering inaudible reveries and hissing against the cargo bays armored interior. The fresh scent of burnt ozone wafting through his respiratory system.

"Thats it, Kyric. It will all be over-" His blade leveraging down further, when he growled in surprise! Instinctively tracking Kyric 's next movement in a blur of speed. A successful block when there was none. Where as before their blades cried out, the now present connection was practically non existent. The dark jedi's form over extended. Crimson blades tip cast down ward toward the floor and a shadow of light looming over him.

Pale eyes went wide with death allured curiosity. As fast as Prowlers maneuver was, this jedi, this boy, had somehow managed to follow through with a falling avalanche strike and backed the elder against the corridor! " Gaaaaahah hah ha!!" his hiss pivoted into a death wished crackle. Click. The lower half of his lightsaber hilt broke away. A sleek interlocking design, a camouflaged viper, a shoto saber. Lowering into a half squat and extending his off hand weapon, its emitter was sent forward to touch against the kiffars chest. All too close to heart.

Time seemed to slow further with anticipation and fear. His counter just as sharp and quick as the kiffars was, but dipped with a psychological edge. Are your willing to sacrifice yourself, boy? A maddening desperation oozed from Prowler. Appearance disheveled and long hair fraying out with vicious motions. A doubt passed him by. But am I ready to die? He continued to crackle. It was nervous? " Heh heh ah hah ha heh hehh!"

" DO IT!!!!" He roared! Voice louder than before and carried on metaphysical ebbs and flows!

 

[Kyric]

Flashes of potential timelines played out in Kyric's mind as his blade descended for Prowler's skull. In many of them, his blade sliced the arkanian meatsuit in twain. But an equal number revealed the kiffar's corpse splayed out on the ship floor. Precognition, for all it's strengths, was an ever shifting web of possibility; made more confusing when employed against another Force Sensitive's increased cognition. If Prowler did not seek a victorious future of his opponent, then the specter's mind proved the stronger in their psionic struggle.

A spiraling fissure crawled across Kyric's vision in a diagonal line from the Prowler's hip to center abdomen. It burst into hundreds of smaller cracks crawling across the kiffar's opponent like tiny ants, but Kyric saw the pattern for what it was—a warning.

Prowler's body dropped a split-second later. The specter's offhand detached the bottom portion of his strange saber-hilt and revealed a shoto hidden within.

Kyric shifted his weight from his front foot to his back. He felt the heat of the superheated plasma inching closer at a harrowing speed. With teeth gritted, his one-eye burning into Prowler's milky gaze, the kiffar pitched backward and dropped to the floor to avoid sudden death. There was more for Kyric to lose now. No more could he bet on going-even and selling himself up river for the greater good. Especially not against an enemy like this, who had a knack for dragging himself back from the Nether.

Xenith needed him.

BD-8 was alone out there somewhere.

The silver-white saber deactivated midway to the floor and Kyric used his free hands to pitch himself to his right, riding his momentum in a kick aimed for the back of the Prowler's leg. An immediate burst of telekinetic energy saw Kyric dance backward into the hall and twirl back onto his feet all in one fluid movement.

Again Kyric's borrowed saber burned to life with a snap-hiss. He breathed heavily backing further into the short corridor. His best chance to overcome his opponent was not a test in skill, but intellect. An entity so old had an endless flood of experiences to lean upon. Intuition, instinct, and hell, even luck honed over such a stretch decided a battle or pure skill a farce. Instead, the kiffar devised a proper plan.

Fighting retreat to the ramp. Force the assassin off the vessel. Escape.

Easy enough, right?

Kyric sighed.

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Tags: Prowler II