Do You Bite Your Thumb at Me, Sir?

[Darth Narakada]

In search of an apprentice of worth, Darth Narakada was on a string of visits to many planets, looking for Force sensitive peoples with a particular ability to channel and be aware of their hate. Walking into a larger settlement on Bothawui, the Sith knight had very little expectancy of finding anything after having visited many small towns and villages, there was nothing remotely close to having any potential. With a deep sigh, he began walking toward the spaceport to secure a vessel out of this planet. His time was done here. Or was it?

Whilst walking, he began to feel a pull. A strong one. It grew in strength as he marched on. Then it reached a pinnacle of strength just outside of a bar. The Dathomir meandered inside to a lowly bar with few inhabitants, but a figure was sitting at the bar. And it was immediately obvious. "Hello, Āsaktidāyaka ondu. I can't help but notice, you seem to have a certain...power to you."

[member=Sadrion]

 

[Levi Hutch]

Sadrion had no idea what came over him. He wasn't a drinker. The only think he drank was knowledge and power. 'But he is a drinker', he thought. Yes, Xardus had picked up drinking in his early twenties, probably why he had been so easy to control when Sadrion was created inside of him. Unfortunately, it seemed the darkside spirit was picking up more and more of his host's habits. Currently, he sat just to the side of the bar, drinking a cold Mandalorian ale. It was strong, but Xardus's body seemed to be used to it. Downing the glass through the slit in his mask, he pounded it on the table. "Another."

No sooner after this did a man approach him, asking about his power. Sadrion sighed and turned around, his glowing golden eyes shining out of the sockets of the mask. "Way to state the obvious. Your point?"

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

"Gamana seḷeyuva... It is most interesting. I though this planet was completely useless," he said, loud enough for the other patrons to hear, but not annoyingly so. "Pray tell, who do you make your company with?" This question could decide the fate of their meeting. His power was developed and powerful. There was force behind him and his being. Walking a short distance, the Dathomir sat one chair away along the bar and ordered a glass of water with casual disinterest in anything else they had to offer him, despite the nervous offerings of the bartender. His fingers began a slow tapping with a patient and steady beat.

[member="Sadrion"]

 

[Levi Hutch]

Sadrion huffed at the remark. "Interesting." Right. The strangely dressed man probably sated something in return. There was nothin wrong with it, as it was simply the nature of all sentient beings. "I do not affiliate myself with any man or thing, and prefer to keep it that way. Tell me, is there a particular reason you keep pestering me?" Interesting, the effects of alcohol. Taking in his third round, the drink seemed to enhance his arrogance and snobbish behavior, bringing it to a new record high. He was rather amused by this, and would have to try it again sometime.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

"I suppose there isn't," he replies, finishing his water. "I've been told to try this 'friendly' thing and so far I think I'm as displeased with it as you are. Let me buy you another drink, and then I shall take my leave." Narakada clears his throat to beckon the bartender and gets a fourth drink for the hooded figure. "Alright then." With a shove, he stands at his full height - over seven feet - once more. "I would say it's been pleasant talking to you. But really it hasn't."

[member="Sadrion"]

 

[Levi Hutch]

Sadrion had about had enough of talking as it was. Turning to the man, he grabbed his shoulder and threw him back across the bar with enhanced strength. The fuel now in the fire, he shot up and pulled out his lightsaber, watching some finish their drinks and leave, the smart ones. Others stayed to watch what would happen. Imbeciles. A single look into the man's golden eyes, and the rest piled out. Turning back to the bar, he scraped his yellow blade across it, burning the wood nice and crisp. It was time for some fun.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

The sudden movement caught him off guard and as he rolled to the floor, he threw his shoulder into the momentum and rolled onto his feet. "That. Was a mistake." His lightsaber was in his hand and the sickly green blade shot out of it with a hiss. The power of both sabers resounded through the room which was now all but empty of life. Narakada raised his saber to a ready position. A chair to his left was his first move, he used the Force to launch it with extreme speed at his enemy, and then jumped to follow it going to slash at the sword arm of his opponent.

[member="Sadrion"]

 

[Levi Hutch]

Sadrion watched as he felt the lightsaber tore through his robe, bouncing off of his chest. Raising an eyebrow, or at least as well as he could under his seared-on mask, he let loose a huff of disapproval. "No. That was a mistake." Ripping off the rest of his robe, he revealed that he was covered head to toe in a strange metal, covered in burn marks. A fine hole could be seen on the left side of his chest, showing blackened flesh underneath, with a pitiful scar. Brandishing his lightsaber at the other, he shot it downward, preparing to cleave the man's head in two.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

The shot came close to fatal damage as Narakada slightly dodged to the side, crouching slightly as he went. The saber burned a hole into the hood that covered the rest of his helmet. His eyes took in the armor-y thing the man was wearing and felt a brief moment of dread, not at his disadvantage, but at the time he would have to waste trying to stick his saber into the hole. Or go for the head. Both options were viable, but would take time. "What is that armor you pukkalinda? You coward."

[member="Sadrion"]

 

[Levi Hutch]

Sadrion smirked under his mask, which was made of the same metal alloy. "A little something I picked up a while back. The metal is rare, in case you're wondering. Not even Xardus knew what it was." He wouldn't waste any time explaining who Xardus was to the other, it was simply a statement. Though he figured the question would arise. Meanwhile, the dark one used the time he was given to outstretch his hand, letting loose a massive wave of force energy. The force rippled across his palm for a moment before it was sent forward, knocking the man directly in the chest. Sadrion suddenly felt sorry for the mass quantity of fine liquor and other drinks, but he could always buy another round sometime.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

The wave hit him hard, but he kept his feet. His boots skid along the floor as tables and chairs got thrown out of the way by his huge body. "And I suppose I'm supposed to know who this Xardus is?" he asked, after removing himself from the wall he went flying into. Though the skill was undeveloped, he would attempt it. He had no idea what the metal was made of and if this yielded results, then it was a step forward. Narakada let the Force build up inside him, channeling his hatred and his anger. It caused exhaustion immediately but if he only did it once or twice, he could make it through the battle. With enough energy built up quickly, the Dathomir thrust out his hand and sent out is own wave of Force. This was different though. It was Forced Destruction. Meant to tear the atoms apart from each other with the strongest of Force blasts.

[member="Sadrion"]

 

[Levi Hutch]

The dead second the blast hit him, Sadrion felt a rush of pain as it tore through his armor like nothing. The armor itself was still mostly intact, but he was crippled severely. Anger flashed through his eyes. Reaching a hand out, he located the tinest of cuts, one that had been sustained from broken glass, and made it worse. The pain would intensify to excruciating levels, doing nothing to the flesh but completely overloading the mind with pain. "Kneel. To. Me.

[member="Darth Narakada"]

 

[Darth Narakada]

The man infuriated the ancient one, "It is thee who should kneel to I. I can tear you apart, atom by atom. Don't think I won't do it. No, it is you should kneel to me, I am the conquerer of Arcadia, the commander of ships, the one who outlasted death itself. I am many years your senior and I hold you in my clutch to do whatever it may please." The Dathomir grabbed a table and slammed it down between them and used the Force to drag a couple chairs over. "Come. Sit."

[member="Sadrion"]