Do you have my Back?

[Zannah Pehluos-Quel]

Malastare
838 BBY

Those of you who have seen one know the violence of a tropical storm. For hours on end, rain poured down on Zannah and Bronwyn. Every fire they could manage to put up went out. Every preparation they attempted to make was blown down. There was no Master in sight, and if anyone knew what it meant to be exhausted, it was the two of them, being strained under 1.56 times the standard gravity and having trained for nearly 48 standard hours with no sleep, and the shadowy feel of the jungle wasn't helping.

Zannah found it hard to keep her eyes open, but her resolve was strong. She was not going to let some stupid storm and the forces of nature stop her from gaining got power necessary to avenge her mothers death. Even in her shivers, Zannah managed not to attempt to comfort herself, and instead made every little thought an effort to continue to survive. Her eyes scanned every inch of the scenery she could, looking for anything that might be a threat to her and her sister, and her caution for such was immense. Her hand was placed lightly upon her lightsaber, and if anything came at them she would make sure that they wouldn't leave unless in a box in multiple pieces.

Besides, if worse came to worse, she had learned a trick or two from previous instances of training that she could easily obliterate an enemy if she so chose. Their master —their father— taught them enough to defend themselves.

Still, Zannah grew tired of this game of waiting for her next trial, whatever it might be, and despite everything inside her bunching up in caution and nerves, she diverted her attention for the company of her sister.

"It's very odd," she began, "I don't every remember father putting us through this kind of chit before. A new challenge, do you think?" She paused, thinking carefully again at why they might be here. "Do you think maybe he might just walk up to us after some time and give us a task of some kind? Maybe a scavenger hunt or something akin to it?"

Not even moments after saying what she had to say, a few rustles in the trees and low hanging plants behind them could be heard, Zannah's head almost jerking towards the sound as she turned around and drew the hilt of her weapon in preparation for whatever might be coming for them. She glanced at her sister, and without any second thought, slowly made her way to be at her Bronwyn's back.

[member="Bronwyn Pehluos"]

 

[Beowoof]

This had not been the most pleasant of excursions by far. Big Sister was not really the outdoorsy type, nor was she at a point in her life in which nature trails were anything of excitement to her. Especially in this muggy heat, and with gravity's influence being extremely inordinate to the places she had thus far been. Each breath felt like it actually took energy, diaphragm seeming like it needed a push instead of behaving completely involuntarily. She had to admit, Father knew how to test them. And that angered her.

Being stuck with her little sister did not help her feel any better about this trip, either. Bronwyn loved Zannah like a good sister should, but eventually it just got annoying having to do everything with her nearby. There had been plenty of alone time, sure, but even then there was an itch in the back of her mind that she needed to keep track of where her sibling was lest they be lost from each other as well. But they only had each other right now, so Bronnie would have to stick it out, whether she liked it or not.

"Maybe the test is to figure that out," the elder remarked, not entirely interested in chatting about the hypotheticals at this point. She swept back her brown locks and placed her chin in her palm, certain that 'Darth Pehluos' would not let his daughters die, whatever they did. She had half a mind to just sit here until he showed up to 'rescue' them.

That moment might not be too far away. Like her sister, Bronwyn sprang to attention as the rustle of nearby foliage became clearly audible. She stood up straight and clutched her lightsaber hilt, not wanting to prematurely activate its crimson blade. Back-to-back the girls stood, eying the fauna about them and wondering what danger they might be in.

[member="Zannah Pehluos-Quel"]

 

[Zannah Pehluos-Quel]

"Not to be hasty in our conclusion, sister..." began Zannah, with a tinge of sarcasm present in her voice, "But I think I might have figured out part of what the test might be."

From the fauna emerged a relatively large group of Dug, most of them baring teeth, most of them saying words under their breath, those of which the only word being recognisable was "oda," and along with the drawing of weapons, Zannah definitely found their presence not only rude, but most certainly aggressive... and dismissible only by violence.

Zannah hastily activated her weapon, its crimson blade gleaming and it's brilliance blooming in the rain. A few of the Dug staggered when she did, but most of them, not only standing their ground, but muttering again and looking to a hood figure she did not notice before. His presence was all but pleasing, and the feel of his gaze —even without being able to see his eyes— was unnerving. Zannah shivered at the thought and as the warm rain landed on her back, and without thinking, naturally placed the blade in front of her as she readied to fight her opponents.

Naturally, her opponent did the same with their lightsaber, only theirs had one more blade than hers.

Zannah's nerves quickly unwound, and in her nervousness, she turned slightly to Bronwyn, keeping her opponent in her peripherals, looking for comfort.

"Actually, I digress," she began calmly, "This might not be anything that I originally thought it was. Tell me you're thinking the same thing I am."

[member="Bronwyn Pehluos"]

 

[Beowoof]

Perhaps it was not surprising to encounter a group of dugs on Malastare. It was their homeworld, after all. However, Bronwyn had no idea what their purpose here would be, especially if it involved them stalking the girls--unless they were part of this 'test'. It made her uncomfortable, and she began to wonder if Father would truly send out these hunters to converge on his only daughters.

"I don't think he'd quite do this." It just seemed far too extreme--more like a massacre than a test. Bronwyn contained the urge to activate her blade, attempting to surmise their predicament before leaping too quickly into things. She did not believe they could handle all of these creatures in combat if they truly were enemies. Careful manipulation was the only way she could see them getting out of a potentially hostile situation of this caliber.

She through all caution aside when she heard the snap of a blade not belonging to Zannah, however, and reflexively turned on her own lightsaber as she craned her neck to look over her sister's shoulder. The red beam of scorching plasma sizzled with delight as it vaporized the falling raindrops instantly, but the elder sister's demeanor did not show any sort of eagerness when the new arrival's second blade lit up. "I'm thinking this isn't where we're supposed to be," Bronwyn whispered. "It may be time to run."

[member="Zannah Pehluos-Quel"]

 

[Zannah Pehluos-Quel]

"No," Zannah snapped, her head snapping as well to see her sister in her peripherals, "We didn't wait all this time and come this far for some bantha fodder with a longer blade than ours to dissuade us for doing Master's bidding. Father's bidding."

With the quick flourish of her blade, Zannah held her blade to the ground and raised a hand at one of the Dugs. Startled, the Dugs around Zannah's designated prey began to mutter more to one another. Her prey merely sat there, stunned. The hooded figure took no action.

Zannah, having been off-put and slightly enraged by the hooded figures lack of initiative —and now passed the original nerves—, turned and smirked at the Dug she targeted. She held her hand much like a Sith waiting to choke her target, and the Dug responded to that in kind by preemptively holding its throat. Rather than lifting up and choking as everyone may have expected —as Zannah hoped they expected—, the Dug began to scream as it dropped to the ground and writhed in agony, holding the hand that was once holding its throat. Zannah continued to use this moment of shock and awe to approach the Dug prey, and, with a slow twist of her hand till her palm faced upward, she lifted the Dug into the air in front of her.

With another scornful smirk, Zannah quickly clenched her hand into a fist, and the as the Dugs hand exploded and its scream resonated in the jungle, she turned to Bronwyn with pleasure and hate seeded in her eyes.

"I didn't wait this long for nothing."

[member="Bronwyn Pehluos"]

 

[Beowoof]

And Father was totally capable of saving our mother, now, wasn't he? Her cynical discord with her sister's opinion would not be voiced, however. The situation was much too dire. Bronwyn considered Zannah to be far too impetuous for her own good sometimes, but she was not going to leave until she could drag her own blood along with her.

Less of a fan of cinematics than what simply worked, the slightly older girl waved her hand stiffly in front of her, emitting some invisible force--or Force--from her body towards a pair of their dug adversaries and propelling the helpless creatures back and against the trees, rendering them useless in this fight. Was it a fight, though? As she turned about to line up beside Zannah, her confidence decayed increasingly with each breath as she stared down the shadowy, stolid figure who dared challenge the sisters. "There's still a chance..." she mumbled as she took stance and angled her saber forward. Father had taught her Form I, and she had thus far dabbled in Form V. Her philosophy was that she only needed to be great at a couple of things rather than mediocre at several things. But she was only a teenager. Most who knew how to handle a double-bladed saber had been working at this for years--perhaps even decades.

"There's still a chance to run. One more chance." Be smart, Zannah.

 

[Zannah Pehluos-Quel]

"Bronwyn. Let's be realistic," Zannah said turning to her sister, "How far do you think we could run before our friend here caught up to us?" Zannah took her blade and raised it up to the hooded figure, point at them in both challenge and example. "Given he's evidently not Sith, I doubt he'd even give us the satisfaction of thinking we got away."

In truth, Zannah knew that Bronwyn was right, but not in a million years did she want to feel weak again. She didn't want to have to run from a possibly dangerous adversary when she could very much have a chance of taking him down, especially with her sister at her side. We cannot lose if we work together... We can't. Zannah took a breath, looked at her sister, and back at her opponent as she gauged the situation once more. Zannah, like her sister, was skilled in Shii-Cho, but worked more with Juyo than Bronwyn did. If Bronwyn was the shield and Zannah the sword, then there was no way they could lose an encounter in which their opponent could only be one or the other.

"Bronwyn," Zannah said once more as her opponent flourished their blade, her voice reminiscent of anger and anticipation, "I did not wait this long for nothing."

 

[Beowoof]

"You said realistic?" she scoffed upon hearing her sister's optimism. To say Bronwyn was a cynic would be an understatement, but how did Zannah even fail to see how they were likely outmatched here? "And I didn't wait to get killed."

Begrudgingly, she broke away from her sister to the left, eying the dark figure's double saber as he worked on pre-combat intimidation, twisting his weapon about in an elegant manner to prove he knew what he was doing--which could be a ruse in itself, but most people do not travel to the middle of nowhere all shrouded in an ominous cloak and with a company of native fighters if they are not at least somewhat aware of how to utilize the weaponry they bring to the party. "I'm assuming you know who we are if you've come so far to meet us," Bronwyn commented. "Do I know who you are?"

Keep to his side and do not be too aggressive, she communicated as she began to flank their challenger. It will only be to his advantage if he can keep us close together. For once, she had to leave Zannah's side if she wanted both of them to survive. Of course, she might not have been forced to do this if Zannah were not so ambitious. I wonder if Father sends us here to punish me.

[member="Zannah Pehluos-Quel"]

 

[Zannah Pehluos-Quel]

There is are certain feelings evoked when in the presence of a worthy adversary, but the most common of those, fear, was the feeling that Zannah most definitely lacked in this case, and even as the sinister smirk fell upon the face of her new opponent, Zannah's overconfident stride drove her away from her sister and to the far side of both Bronwyn and their adversary.

Unfortunately, Zannah's nature was, at this point in time, very aggressive, and despite the message Bronwyn very masterfully conveyed in her steps and her smooth talk, Zannah was very compelled to taunt her foe. Every time she caught their ever-moving eyes, she smiled back. A few lightsaber flourishes here and there. Constant stare down. Yet, to her sisters wishes, she did not move in and did not walk any closer to her.

The figure stood and smiled at Bronwyn as her question brooded in the think, humid air. For a few moments, they said nothing, but, as they were always gauging the situation, the figure succumbed to the pleasure of the torture of small talk. "Perhaps you do... but if you did, Sith, would it make a difference? Would knowing who I was change the way you would defend yourself? Would it perhaps cause you to consider whether or not I would be worth the kill, assuming you managed to defeat me?" The figure chortled. "I think not."

Zannah's taunting smiles dissipated. "Perhaps I made a mistake in being 'realistic' Bronwyn," Zannah began. "It seems evident to me that this... persona... is more interested in philosophically talking us to death than anything worth our time."

[member="Bronwyn Pehluos"]

 

[Beowoof]

Zannah had always been better at fighting; better with the Force than Bronwyn. She was a quicker learner and it was suspected that she was just all-around more gifted in most senses. She was even prettier than her big sis.

But, of course, Zannah was also the impetuous one of the Sithsters. Which meant all that practice, all that raw talent, and all that beauty could potentially be negated in one swift blow through anxious carelessness. And that was what Bronwyn feared now as her overly zealous sibling made talk that was more provocative than advisable. But at least she held her ground rather than rushing into things. That was better than the elder had expected.

Yeah, the philosophy was a little much for Bronnie's taste, even if she did enjoy that sort of thinking. Just, making sophisticated speech before battle made little sense to her. "It probably wouldn't change what we do, no. You obviously don't want us to walk away. Or you want to haunt us. Or... something." She really could not think of what else he could want. He was here to prey on two trainees of their Sith father, right? Snatch them up or slice them up while they are weak and unversed in life-or-death combat."Are you here to kill us? It would be just like our father told us, then. You Jedi speak of peace but can boast none of it."

Bronwyn did not exactly favor limitless patience, but she would rather they not tempt this mysterious man to unleash something they were not prepared for. If faced with the choice of either tucking tail and running or maintaining 'honor' and dying... Bronnie kind of preferred the former. Forget honor. She just needed her sister and herself to get out of this safely.

Still, she could not resist a little sarcastic jab. "Zannah, what did we do to offend this incredibly nice man?"

[member="Zannah Pehluos-Quel"]