Hunting the Fallen

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade stared at the planet as her ship broke through atmosphere. It was another one of those missions she'd taken up in the hopes of improving her personal record. There was a lot to atone for after too many things had happened, and once again she found herself in a position in which she was over expanding and trying to make up for things she didn't necessarily have anything to do with. This mission was one that… Frankly, she had no personal care about. Jedi gone rogue, and all of that.

A group of them had deflected and turned shadow. While maintaining the claim that they were Jedi, they had kidnapped various people and enslaved them. There were reports of abuse as well. Normally the Confederacy did not prioritize these things; not as a whole, anyway. But this group had been working with the Confederacy in the past, helping them rebuild on Monastery. It was personal to the Confederacy this time, and this was why the group had been tracked to Trenwyth.

So Scherezade had been assigned along with Executor [member="Taramaz Laurs"]. For all intents and purposes, she would appear as a Knight Obsidian Pathfinder on his records as well as on the mission statement, since only those of high enough clearance would know she was in truth part of the Ministry of Secrets now.

Her meet up point with the Executor was planned to happen several minutes from now, a few miles off from where the Jedi base was. They'd have to treck on foot for a few miles before actually finding them. And the mission this time? No mercy. It was going to be a bloody massacre.

Scherezade parked her ship, and waited for her mission partner to either arrive or make his presence known. They were going to have fun.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Equipment: Mark-V Odin Armour, Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Exploding Bullets, Flashbangs, Tear Gas, Fragmentation Grenades, Medkit​

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[SIZE=11pt]Redemption[/SIZE]​

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Transmission# 1--. Designate: EXTRMN8​

KO-043 Dispatched with Pathfinder Scherezade deWinter on Trenwyth​

Target: Jedi Fugitives​

Laurs meeting with Pathfinder deWinter​

1318 hrs 8 May, 856 ABY​

The Executor's ship touched down. As the Sith Lord rose from the Captain's seat, he grabbed his rifle and pistol, pushing clips filled with exploding bullets into them. He swung the rifle onto his back, the mag-grip holding tight, he then put his pistol on his leg, a mag grip keeping it in place aswell. He hooked his trusty lightsabers onto his belt, hooking his flashbangs behind his waist, a tear gas grenade and a fragmentation grenade on his chest, and the remaining two of the same onto the front of his belt. He checked through the medkit quickly, before putting it on his leg, opposite of his pistol, a mag grip holding tight. He then grabbed his helmet, and turned it over, inspecting every bit of it, before sliding the cushioned, highly advanced, highly expensive piece of technology onto his head, the HUD springing to life.

The ramp of his ship hissed, loud enough to scare off local birds, flocking them up into a squawking mass of colour against the dull sky. His boots tapped on the metal ramp as he walked down it as it was still lowering and extending. Then, before it had even opened fully, it was closing again, it's Executor walking away, through the terrain to the ship of the Pathfinder. It took less than a few moments for the Executor to stumble upon the ship, a near glowing beacon of civilisation in the desolate wastes of the planet. He looked over at the ship, seeing nobody waiting nearby, he walked over to a small boulder, big enough to sit on, just turned on it's side, and wedged into the ground.

The Executor grabbed the boulder without hesitation, and ripped it from the ground, and threw it onto the dirt, about fifteen metres from the ship, and then yanked it down, before finally sitting. He tapped the side of his helmet, turning off the voice scrambler, then activated his comm-system, on a closed, and secured Knights Obsidian Spec-Ops frequency, one he'd managed to acquire for use in this mission. His voice, unfiltered by his helmet, thanks to the high quality of microphone, was smooth, with a spark of the rage he carried as a Sith Lord, and from all his scars and wounds, old and new. Yet there was also the sarcastically humorous tone mixed in.

"I'm waiting, oh mysterious woman."

He knew the Pathfinder's face from the portfolio he'd received, and it was the same damn face he'd seen before the mission to the other dimension, the same face from the Fortressa disaster, the face who he'd fought alongside with, who he'd saved, and been saved by. Yet her name was not listed as Madalena Antares, no. It was listed as [member="Scherezade deWinter"], a strange occurrence, as when he searched for the name Madalena Antares in the database, he'd found another completely different profile, the same records as the Madalena he had known, but with a different face. Whoever this Scherezade was, something was most certainly wrong, perhaps corruption, insubordination, a cover-up even? Flat-out treason seemed likely. Though it was strange for them to create a secondary profile in the Obsidian Database for any of these reasons.

The Sith Lord let out a sigh, and turned his voice scrambler back on, and the comm-system off. With the mechanical exhalation, the Sith Lord took his rifle off his back, and started inspecting it.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets

Shadows offered the Pathfinder/Crow ample place to train. In truth, she had not been there for long at all; Executor Laurs arrived a precious few seconds after she did. Yet in that time, Scherezade had managed to slip her way inside a shadow. Getting into them had become easy by now. Getting out where she wanted to… Was slightly harder. In a few ways, she supposed, the ability resembled those who performed the white turret thing. But she was not a Jedi, nor did she overly enjoy the sensation of being it, after having being pulled into it on more than one occasion.

But the shadows were a god domain for a Blood Hound. A few times, she'd almost exited where [member="Taramaz Laurs"] was moving his boulder to, only to not do so at the last second, saving herself from getting squashed. It was pure luck, what it was. And yes, she heard him refer to her as a mysterious woman, causing her to frown in surprise. Scherezade would never get used to anyone referring to her as such. Usually the words used to describe her were more… Colorful.

Moments after he sighed, Scherezade found the perfect shadow to make her exit from, coming into full view in front of him, donning her armor as well as the plethora of weapons she always carried about her body, not all of them revealed in plain sight.

"Nah, not so mysterious," she said with a grin, and motioned for him to get up. She'd glanced at his record before. She knew about his little adventure with Madalena, an adventure that had gotten Scherezade's own body so beat up that it had added to the plethora of scars she concealed beneath her clothes.

"But less willing to break atmosphere without proper equipment this time," she added, "I supposed you already figured out that it wasn't me though. Just my sister inside my body."

That was the fastest explenation. And she hoped he wouldn't ask for more details. "Shall we go?"

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Equipment: Mark-V Odin Armour, Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Exploding Bullets, Flashbangs, Tear Gas, Fragmentation Grenades, Medkit​

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[SIZE=11pt]Redemption[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=14.6667px][member="Scherezade deWinter"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]The Executor was taken back by the sight before him. Yes, he'd seen this woman before, but the armour... that was most strange, considering they were going to be battling. If he was being most honest with himself, he was reminded of a swim suit when he looked at the armour. And where had she come from? It reminded him of the stories of ancient Sith Assassins, and Jedi Shadows, from the time of the Galactic Cold War, stories from the time of his Master. Where the Shadows and Assassins blended in with the very light and dark itself. Had this Scherezade deWinter learned their arts? It was not Taramaz' job to nose around and find out. His job was to put the Fallen Jedi Enclave to the sword, that's all he knew.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He stood, and put his rifle back on his back, the mag-grip activating again. He then nodded to the woman, he was ready to go. He then started walking back to his ship, standing on the ramp. He then looked back.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"What do you think of a speeder to get us there faster? If not, I'm fine with that, I'm confident I could make the trek."[/SIZE]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

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He was walking back into his ship? Why was he walking back to his ship? Scherezade looked at him as he moved, the green glow of her eyes following his every step while she remained in place. Ah. That was why.

"I prefer walking," she said with a smile, "we don't know what sort of tech they got; a speeder is harder to hide from sensors than two Force Users are."

Grinning, Scherezade motioned for him to come with her. They both knew where the compound was, the rest was just a matter of getting there, without the local fauna and flora trying to kill them as they made their way towards it.

"There are flesh eating worms on this planet," she added, her tone cheerful, "think we're gonna bump into some of them? I hear the Minister of Science would love some tissue samples if we do."

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Equipment: Mark-V Odin Armour, Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Exploding Bullets, Flashbangs, Tear Gas, Fragmentation Grenades, Medkit​

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[SIZE=11pt]Redemption[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt][member="Scherezade deWinter"][/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]The Sith Lord turned around, pressing a button on the inside of the ship, then walked off the ramp as it slid back up into the ship, and the hatch was closed. He then pressed a button on his suit, and several holes opened up around the ramp, dropping pressure-activated mines onto the ground around it, small enough to take out most creatures that could get into the ship, without damaging it in the explosion. He then started walking towards the Pathfinder, tapping the side of his helmet, bringing up 3D scans of the path ahead, he then tapped again, making the helmet project them out infront of it like a hologram, about the size of a rifle. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Flesh Eating Worms, you say? Gives me flash backs to the Rishi Moon. You ever been to the Rishi Moon? At least one of them. They've got these giant worms that make tunnels in the moon's surface, bigger than a Rancor. Then again, I suppose it would be quite rude to deny the Minister of Science some free specimens. Who's carrying them? Want me to go get my Squire?" [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He halted, and pressed a button, another hole opened, and an Obsidian Squire flew out, which then hovered over, and floated by Taramaz' side. Taramaz then pressed another button on his helmet, sending the 3D scans to his loyal squire, who happily displayed them for Scherezade to look at as he went off, switching off the projector on his helmet, and turning his vocal scrambler back on. He began the trek towards the Fallen Jedi base. He followed a very specific pattern, avoiding a large field of sinkholes, leading down into deep, empty caves. His footsteps were careful and coordinated, the 3D scans guiding him. When he got to the other side, he stopped, and waited for his companions to join him.[/SIZE]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: Taramaz Laurs

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Scherezade made a playful disgust face as Taramaz mentioned the giant worms on the Rishi Moon. She'd been to Rishi itself – twice just her body, with her sister inhabiting it, and once on her own, while inhabiting her own body. But to the moon of that planet, she'd never set foot on.

"I keep forgetting you- I mean, we, get Squires," she laughed, and shrugged, "I mean, tissue samples can fit into match-sized boxes, but if you wanna give it to yours, sure. I'd just put them in my pocket otherwise. Or sometimes take a bite and then spit it into a disposable cup. I'm pretty good at playing by ear when the situation demands it."

The two walked towards the base, and whereas Taramaz' walk was careful, planned, avoiding everything, Scherezade herself more resembled a child, jumping over potholes, walking slow for a few steps and then almost running for a few more. It was almost the walk of a text book ADHD child.

If there was a need for conversation, she was perfectly comfortable letting the Executor by her side decide on that. Scherezade rarely felt the need to fill up silence with conversation – her levels of comfort didn't really depend on that.

And eventually, magically avoiding any and all flesh eating worms, the two had made it to the Jedi base.

Scherezade removed a pretty rope from her pocket and offered it to Taramaz. "So we pretending you caught me as a slave and wanna sell? I've done that scenario a few times now, if you can negotiate them to give you more than twenty five thousand creds, you'll be the record holder."

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Wearing: Mark-V Odin Armour, MDS, Medkit​

Wielding: Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Exploding Bullets, 2x Flashbangs, 2x Frag Grenades, 2x Tear Gas​

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[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

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The armour clad figure turned to face his partner as she spoke, offering him the plan. He then tapped a button on the side of his head, the audio scrambler turning off with a click. He then looked down at his partner, taking the offered rope.

"Challenge accepted. Now, I hope you don't have sensitive skin... this is gonna hurt."

He then grabbed her wrist, and looped the rope around it, then pulled it across, grabbing her other wrist, looping the rope around there too. He then tied a complex looking knot, that in it's nature, was rather simple. He placed one of the loose ends into her hand, with enough give to quickly undo the entire, rather tight, knot. A few features of the knot included: the pretty rope, a complex looking knot that would fool most, an amazing means to choke someone. He then backed up, looking at her.

"You want me to take your weapons? Got my own little gadget, will only show what I'm holding. And I doubt a slave would carry an arsenal as impressive as yours. Though... I think you could smuggle in a pistol or knife, I doubt you'd need it though. We should only need to get a few rooms in anyway. Squire, stay hidden, remain vigilant, give me visuals if you see anything unusual."

He then grabbed a small device from his belt, and pressed a button. A second later, he nolonger looked the part of the heavily armed and armoured warrior. Instead, he was wearing rather elegant clothing, pure black in colour, looking much like the robes of a Sith Lord. He then pulled one of his sabers off his belt, holding it in his hand.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives| Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

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"I'm fine with physical pain," Scherezade shrugged carelessly. Her body was covered in armor, keeping the scars hidden, but it was full of them. How many battles had she attended in nothing but denim and simple shirts, using her body as a meat shield to protect others? At one point she had been dubbed as the best pin cushion in the 'verse, a title she had attempted to wield with pride before realizing she was being mocked for it. But to compare a bit of potential rope burn to that? Child's play.

Eying him carefully as he did the special knots, Scherezade grinned, but said nothing. They were both Force Users; she could get out of it, no matter how complicated it was, by the power of thought. That was not to diminish what he was doing in any way though; he would've been able to do the same if the shoe was on the other foot. But she appreciated the piece of loose rope at the end regardless.

"I don't think you'd get all my weapons even if you scoured every inch of my body," she laughed, "but yeah, take the ones that show up and you can find."

It was a sad thing. She loved her weapons. But a disguise was a disguise.

When she looked up, he was in Sith robes. Nodding, she focused for a few moments before her own face took on an entirely different expression; submission. Ugh.

As the two walked into the compound, Scherezade kept her gaze to the ground, knowing it was time to let her mission partner hold the ropes. In more ways than one.

The inside of the compound was deep and dark. Without the Force or other little gadgets, it would have easily been possible to mistake the place for empty. But a few minutes of a walk, and the long dark hall opened into a large circular chamber, filled with lavish couches and doors that led to other parts of the compound.

"What have we here?" a male voice boomed over. For a moment, Scherezade let herself look up. It was a man that smelled and appeared human – wearing the classic Jedi robes, but in black. Every word that came out of his mouth seemed to be dripping with seduction aimed at anyone who heard them, regardless of sex or gender or preference. She shuddered. "What is this gift our Sith friend has brought us?" he asked, eyes now focusing on Taramaz, "Who is our Sith friend?"

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Wearing: Mark-V Odin Armour, MDS, Medkit​

Wielding: Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Exploding Bullets, 2x Flashbangs, 2x Frag Grenades, 2x Tear Gas​

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[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

Taramaz made a respectful half-smile at her careless shrug. And chuckled along with her laugh. It took a real gusty-type to be so confident in their partner that they allowed them to take their weapons, and bind them, then lead them into extremely hostile territory, especially when they were outnumbered atleast thirty to two. He then took the most obvious weapons from her, and placed them somewhere on his back, where they then disappeared, absorbed by the disguise suite. He then patted her down quickly, pushing some weapons into more hidden positions, before finally backing up, looking over his work.

"Do I still get the record if I use a mind trick?"

He asked the question out of the blue, rather casually when considering the severity and task ahead of himself. He had, after all, just accepted responsibility for one of his sisters in the Knighthood. If she died, then it would be because he'd bound her hands, however loosely, and taken her weapons, however few.

He smiled a smile of satisfaction, hiding his concern expertly, before he forced it to fade into a scowl, and a rather unhappy expression. He grabbed her ropes, feigning aggression, as if she had tried to pull away. It was unsafe to assume they were not being watched, yet it was very unlikely. His grip on the hilt of his saber tightening. He began the fast, impatient walk expected of a Sith Lord with urgent business. He lead his companion into the rather dark and dreary compound. He transfered his saber to his belt, where the disguise suite let it remain unabsorbed. He held his hand up, a flame forming in his palm, which he used to light the way through the gloomy corridor.

When they arrived in the circular chamber, not unakin to an Ambassador's private quarters, he lowered his hand, the flame extinguishing himself as he took hold of his saber again. A few more steps into the room, and he was halted by a man in blackened Jedi robes. An attire not uncommon to the Dark Jedi of centuries past. The man was perhaps a foot or two shorter than Taramaz, he was well groomed. If not for the prior information of what he really was, and for Taramaz' lessons in force users from his own master, then he would've guessed the man was a jedi, tempted by the Dark Side, perhaps, but under control, or just one who favoured darker colours. There were certainly others in the history of the jedi who did.

The seductive tone of the mystery man tugged at his mind, before rearing back, out of the swirling darkness that was the mind of Darth Laurs.

"You can cut your honeyed words, I have no interest in them, nor do they have an interest in me. I also have a policy about influencing my property. I suggest you adjust your tone and introduce yourself. You adress Darth Laurs, a true Lord of the Sith, one who has corrupted the force to his own will, instead of a undecided who can not commit. I bring you a slave, who I may just consider selling to you, if you prove it to be worth my while."

His tone was harsh, and commanding. The Dark Side practically radiated from him, in all it's foul, yet beautifully twisted forms, revealing itself only to those who had the power in the force to sense it.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives| Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

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Scherezade had to admit she was somewhat impressed with her mission partner's acting ability. She had not expected him to shine s much in his role, though perhaps the fact that he was a Sith helped the matter at least a little. Still, she had her own role to fulfil, and beaming with pride wasn't going to be useful to her in any way.

However, the Dark Jedi in front of them seemed much less impressed. She'd expected as much, but with the waves of Darkside that were coming from Taramaz, it still somewhat surprised her.

Wordlessly, the Dark Jedi walked to where Scherezade was standing, all tied up. His hand moved to her chin and he forced her mouth open, counting the teeth inside. Seriously? They lived in a galaxy where teeth were among the easiest things to replace and he was checking her dental hygiene?

"Why is she in armor?" he demanded as he took a closer look. The mesh that covered her bod was armor indeed, though from afar she supposed it could easily be mistaken for a hot catsuit or some weird fashion that must've come from Coruscant. They always wore the weirdest things on Coruscant.

His hands continued to roam, funnily enough managing to miss the weapons that were still on her. Man. How did he make it so far if he was so bad at his job?

"Two hundred credits for the girl," the Dark Jedi rolled his eyes and began to walk back towards his seat, his attention now on Taramaz. "You're more interesting, old man. What brings you here? Why is someone of your power and caliber even interested in what we have going on here?"

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

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Wearing: Mark-V Odin Armour, MDS, Medkit​

Wielding: Blood of the Massassi, Alterra Full Auto Rifle, Alterra Sidearm Pistol, Alterra Exploding Bullets, 2x Flashbangs, 2x Frag Grenades, 2x Tear Gas​

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[member="Scherezade deWinter"]​

"She wears the armour because that is what I caught her in, and I don't exactly take measurements for every prisoner I take just so I can waste my credits on buying them common clothes. If you feel that you must do so out of fear for your own safety, then that is your choice."

The emotionless eyes of Taramaz tracked the Dark Jedi, the pupils having thinned to almost snake-like proportions, surrounded by the purple and red irises. He raised one hand, freezing the man's movements entirely as his roaming hands became too venturous. He then moved his hand to the side, pushing the man back slightly back, before releasing his grip. The hand on her wrist lowering itself, gently holding onto the rope binding her wrists together. He felt the cold coils of the dark side twist within him, stabbing into his insides, begging to be released, begging for him to unleash his power. To this, he let out a low growl, almost unnoticeable, even to the partner next to him.

His boots tapped on the ground as he began an abrupt walk towards the Dark Jedi. His free hand travelling down to his belt, resting on the hilt of his saber. His scowl deepening as his head looked around the room, observing the surroundings for the almost certain battle that would commence very soon. All the better for the Dark Jedi not to meet his eyes, for their own good. His eyes held the only window into his soul, and if one looked in for too long, they might not look away the same person. He finally turned his attention to the Sith Imitator after a moment of his questions going unanswered, much to Taramaz' satisfaction.

"I come to your pathetic excuse for an enclave because I wished to test your power, and perhaps gain an amount of credits in the process. It is not everyday one meets a group of Fallen Jedi. The regular caste of Jedi and Sith gets quite boring, almost mind numbingly so. But I did not come here to be told prices, asked questions, and be insulted, you'd do well to remember such. I will not go lower than five thousand credits for the lady. But now, tell me. What is your name? What is your position within this group of rogues? How many of you are there?"

Some of the questions he asked might have been red flags, but the Knights had not come in a pair to make peace with the enclave. No, the two had been sent because they were the Knighthood's finest, sent to exterminate an infestation of rodents masquerading as men. Perhaps that last bit was influenced by a darker nature, or perhaps it was the truth. He did not know, all he knew was that he wanted blood, he wanted to tear this whole place down on top of them, and keep he and his partner alive in a show of his sheer power. He had done it before, and to a much greater degree. But now he was glaring right into the eyes of the Imitator, his hand loosed from his saber, and free at his side.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives| Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Taramaz Laurs"]

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Remember your mission, remember your mission, remember your mission… Scherezade kept repeating inside her head. Every fiber of her being longed to remove the ropes and just start pulling the blood out of the bodies of those who were gathered there. She didn't care who they were anymore, not what their goal was, but she did not want to keep hearing how the butthole continued to refer to her. Too many soft places inside of her were being hit, and the only way Scherezade knew how to deal with it was through violence; either at herself or at those causing the pain that she would never admit to feeling in that moment.

All through it all, she kept her gaze fixed on the ground. She knew she could not look up. The moment she looked up, the glow of her eyes would give her away.

"Five… thousand?!" the other man repeated the price, entirely missing the part where Taramaz had said lady. After all, ladies didn't get sold. "I am not paying five thousand credits for her. Even if I took her apart and sold every body part separately she wouldn’t fetch that much!" He burst into laughter, and the other joined him fast enough.

"Five hundred, then we can talk," he said, signaling to one of his men to approach with the money.

Scherezade bit down on her jaw. She deserved ten thousand. At least.

 

[Taramaz Arcturus]

Wearing: Sith Lord
Wielding: Blood of the Count

Taramaz smiled as they laughed. Not a smile of happiness, in fact, smile was the wrong word. Smirk was more appropriate. A smirk that betrayed his evil intentions. They should have listened to his words of warning. For even if everything else was but a lie to get them inside, he was honest with what they should not do, and they had just broke every rule. They had mocked him, told him their price, and asked him if he was serious. Though their first mistake was assuming that he was anything but serious.

He laughed kept smirking, all the way up until he was holding the case of credits. He smiled, and placed the case on a nearby table. He then let go of his partner's ropes. He then grabbed his new, but trusty, lightsaber from his belt, and ignited it, force pulling the Dark Jedi back into it. The only sounds audible in the chamber in that five seconds was the hiss as his saber ignited, and the searing, sizzling sound as the Dark Jedi slaver was pulled back into it, without the chance to resist. The pitch black blade of his saber protruded from the upper torso of the slaver for a brief moment, then Taramaz pulled the saber out of the body, letting the body hit the floor.

He then raised his hand, his fist slowly closing and rising up, as the Dark Jedi in the room began to lift of the ground, grasping hands rising to their necks. He nodded to Scherezade, a signal to bleed the room dry, except for the leader. He held the leader in place as he stepped forward, dropping the other jedi onto the floor, gasping for air on their hands and knees. He flicked his fingers, and the room began illuminating itself, torches flaring with fire, but without fuel, lightbulbs twitching on without draining energy.

Taramaz stopped a few feet infront of the man, then lowered his hand, bringing the man to take a knee, keeping constant pressure on his trachea, and forcing his hands onto a knee, forcing his head back, staring into the man's eyes.

"Your first mistake was not making every attempt to meet my price. Your second was mocking me. Your third was forcing a price onto me. And your last mistake was assuming I would allow you to. The Dark Side is a path to power. You claim to know everything of it, yet a Dark Jedi Master is nothing compared to the weakest of Sith Lords. You claim mastery over our domain. Answer our questions, follow our commands, and I promise you, death will be painful and slow."

Taramaz stared down at the man. His eyes were no longer the purple and red they normally were. They were now pitch black, seething with anger, and a lust for violence and death.

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Scherezade deWinter​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor

Wielding: 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives| Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets

Tags: Taramaz Laurs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*~​

She didn't need to be an empath to sort of sense what was going on beneath Tar's skin. Holding back a grin that threatened to show on her face, Scherezade kept her gaze strictly on the ground, knowing that if she glanced a moment too soon, she would blow their entire cover.

But then Taramaz began. The room of it, full of Dark Jedi rising into the air against their will, the Force Choke cutting off their air. Her eyes snapped wide open, the glow of her sight casting its light in her nearby surrounding. The orders were clear. Kill them all. Leave their leader.

The leader though, Taramaz could take care of him on his own. He didn't need the Blood Hound for that. To be honest, she didn't quite need him either; their joined mission was the result of better safe than sorry as most pair-up missions were. But both had their own might and abilities, though practiced differently.

Scherezade looked to the goons still in the air. Letting her ropes drop, she raised her face, her glowing green eyes resting against them, and she smiled.

Nothing seemed to be happening at first, other than that they dropped to the ground. But then she screaming began. Blood veins, typically, did not have any nerve endings. But skin did. Flesh did. So while the Jedi had not felt the blood moving and pulling through their veins to the outside, they felt the pressure as it left those veins and into the flesh, coming out. Bruises appeared on their skins beneath their armor and clothes, and the pressure became even greater.

Only when she saw the purples and black bruises on their face did Scherezade make a move with her hands, using the Force to yank all the pints of blood from their bodies. Their screams of pain died out quickly, and the gallons of blood soaking up the leader and pooling around him.

"Have fun," she purred at Taramaz with a smile.