More than a Match

[Curtis Learchin]

Ever since Curtis's master had left the public eye, he had been alone. No tutoring from anyone, no new skills taught by a Dark Lord. This had led him to take matters into his own hands, which meant going off on his own in search of power, be them artifacts or shrines. And as it happened, he had heard a rumor of both in one place. The planet of Caradim, just outside of Sith jurisdiction, reportedly had an ancient temple that held a shrine of immense power. Rumour or not, Curtis had to investigate, if only to tick it off his list. He had also heard of a warrior cult that occupied the area, but hopefully he could avoid them.

Arriving on the desert world, Curtis decided to make contact with someone. This was the first time that he had done this, but he needed to make a habit of letting someone know where he was. So he sent the message, addressed to [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"], giving her his coordinates and instructions of what to do should he fail to return within good time. Of course, good time for the Sith could mean a month.

With the message sent, Curtis began to trek through the desert, using his swordstaff as a crutch to make the journey easier. He wasn't quite sure how far he would have to go, but he knew the direction, and that he was almost definitely being watched.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The bronze plated control pad attached to the chair lit up, illuminating the darkened command centre with a fluorescent crimson. The room was filled with devices, suddenly booting up as the shutters of the slanted ceiling began to shift. The moonlight filled the room, passing through the massive ravine and shining light down into the massive infrastructure below. The flashing alarm from the chair began to blare a singular repetitious noise, waiting for answer.

​Rising from her slumber, Overseer Craljma stalked through the halls toward the Command Centre - her lithe Aeravalin form casting a long, contorted shadow as her body began to truly wake.

​Arriving in the Command Centre, the beauty of the moon's light radiating throughout the CC as the low lights began to breathe life to the minimalistic technology that decorated the room; immediately she moved to the Command Chair, seeing the symbol repeating on the pad.

​The sentence continued to repeat on the chairs arm panel, Craljma lingered in silence for a moment before settling into her seat - answering the beacon. Accessing Caradim's planetary defence battlenet channels, linking to the Officer who had activated the beacon. The Overseer and Officer's exchange was short, making Craljma aware of the situation in its entirety.

​They would deal with the anomaly, with an efficient and alert presence on the ground. Whilst the planet seemed to slumber to the eyes of a foreigner, deep beneath the ground the Bryn'adûl awoke from their rest, creature, beast and Drael alike mobilising. However, the lone intrusion would be dealt with appropriately. The Servitors deep beneath the planet crust used their senses to assist the Shamans as they tracked the intrusion.

​Soon, he would find himself amongst company in the wastes.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

The scorching sun of the wastes beat down on his pale skin like a drum, beads of sweat falling from his brow and his breath heavy from the trek. It was much harder than he'd expected, but not impossible. The drive for knowledge kept him going, and the force would sustain him somewhat. Loosening a small water can from his belt, he took a long sip before wiping his brow.

"Well, this isn't the most fun I've had." He muttered to himself, before pushing onwards into the desert that lay before him. Everything seemed too quiet for him though, maybe he was too used to the city, or maybe the planet was just dead, a husk that floated through space with no purpose at all. That would explain why a temple would be here, the Sith seemed to like hiding things in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by death and decay.

Cresting the top of a sand dune, Curtis looked over the barren land. In the distance, a structure stood, looking vaguely temple like from where he was. A warm wind brushed sand against his lower legs, and after a long breath, he started to move, once more unto the breach.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​As the intruder trudged through the sand, the Bryn'adûl forces watched and waited as they determined that the human male was heading toward Kras Makrat, a temple entrance belonging to the members of the Shaman order that resided primarily on Caradim. Whatever archaic ornamentals of human design had resided on Caradim before had been utter destroyer, their cities and populaces turned to little more than scorched ash.

​As the foreigner would draw closer, the design of the temple would become clearly alien to him. It was not pyramid shaped; but rather like a fountain of metal, spreading out across the sand like molten lava. At its centre, a deep tunnel that fed into the earth beneath.

​On the cliffs above, a Shaman stood beside a small grouping of Brutes. Behind them, a Sirracus Wyrm awaited its masters call. The Shaman directed the Brutes, they were to intercept the foreigner on his way to the temple. The Shaman sent out the Sirracus, its lithe and durable form funnelling into the sand and making its way toward the human as well.

They would have simply killed him, however Overseer Craljma ordered his capture. The Seer [member="Ehud"] would want this one as a prisoner, easy prey. Somewhere on his trek, an assortment of twelve Brutes waited with Spike Rifles in hand alongside the Shaman, their presence cloaked by him. The Sirracus tracked behind the human, they would have him.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

Curtis pressed forward, even with the feeling he was being watched. The force was trying to tell him something, but with the terrain and the weather, his mind was too occupied to focus in on it. Soon, he entered what seemed to be a valley, cliffs rising around him as he moved towards what he could see now was more of a mess of metal than a traditional temple. He was entering a kill box, but with no other way forward, it would have to be that way.

He glanced up at the clifftops, and spotted what he thought was a humanoid figure watching him. That was all the proof he needed that he was being stalked like prey, maybe he'd wondered into their nest. Maybe the whole planet was a nest. All he knew was that he had made a mistake coming here, but he had no way out.

The valley opened up slightly, and ahead of him, a dozen towering Brutes stood, rifles at the ready. Curtis stopped a few metres away from them, and turned his head back to the way he'd come. The ground seemed to move behind him.

"Quite the welcome you've got for me, I should be honoured." He said, turning his head back to the collection of Brutes ahead of him. He prepped himself for the worst.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The six Brutes moved to encircle him, each standing roughly six feet apart with their weapons raised. Each held a Spiker Rifle, aimed directly at the centre mass of the small man. They did not respond to the words spoken, they likely didn't even speak Common. They simply stood, in silence.

​Their armour was decorated by dirt and sand clinging to their forms, they had been out here for a while - waiting for him to come. The figure above approached from behind and to the right of the Sith adept. His form was more compact and agile, his limbs were longer in ratio to his body yet even the shortest Brutes stood a head taller.

​However, as the Shaman drew close; staff tracking through the sand. It became clear even he was well over a foot taller than the Sith, he stopped a metre away from the Sith - staff firmly planted into the sand. No words were exchanged as the ground began to shift, and the Sith would feel the impressive power of the Shaman attempting to grasp him, to force his body to freeze in place.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Tap, tap, tap

The rhythmic tapping of a finger against the console made the holographic screen shift, one page to the next. Joycelyn Zambrano stared at the screen dispassionately as it flickered from one message or rapport to the next. She stopped only to pick up a piece round piece of fruit and popping it into her mouth. With a grind of her teeth, it broke and spread flavour in her mouth. She was about to click to the next rapport when her finger paused, hovering over the console.

"Acolyte Learchin." "What in the grace of Vahl are you up to?"

She sat up in her chair, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and brushing a stray lock of hair away from her forehead. The dispassion on her face was replaced with keen interest as she looked into recent reports concerning the acolyte's training and exploits, especially after their training session.

"I see. And so you have gone to Caradim in search of power."

She put both elbows on the table and intertwined her fingers, leaning her nose on the arch her hands made. Joycelyn closed her eyes with a deep inhale, then let her shoulders drop a little with the exhale. She could have left him there without backup, but what would that say about the Empire? About her? Sacrifice, yes. Loyalty demanded more than assigned fate.

"Fine."

Hours later, the Daena left Dromund Kaas. Darth Vornskr the Second sat in its command throne, fingers steepled and eyes closed. Her mind delved into the Force as she prepared for whatever was ahead.

[member="Curtis Learchin"] [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Curtis Learchin]

Curtis could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as a dozen rifles pointed at his body. He had no doubt that they would shoot him, and that even should he escape, he would be hunted to the ends of the planet. The Shaman behind him was moving in, and the size of all his assailants was impressive to say the least. He was not a tall man, but these monsters were another breed of trouble.

Suddenly he felt his body freeze, as if he had been struck by a cramp that took over every single muscle in his body. No doubt it was the force, likely from the being with the staff. This wasn't just an ambush, this was a trap. They wanted him.

"So be it then." He muttered, as lightning sparked from his fingers. His own force powers were at war with the Shaman's, and a brief moment of opportunity revealed itself. Curtis managed to break free, and responded with a torrent of electricity, aimed directly for the Shaman's torso.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The surge of energy from the Sith was not unexpected, they were known to be aggressive - volatile and hostile even when outnumbered. The Sith combatted the Shaman's abilities, the two in flux as the Shaman uttered a single word in their dialect in the midst of their engagement. It resembled something similar to 'incapacitate' in Galactic Basic, but the Draelvasier language was so foreign no ears but their own would be able to comprehend the meaning.

​Then, within the same split-second the Sith turned to face the Shaman; his back now to the Brutes. Two of which aimed, firing singular massive super-heated spikes at the back of the Sith's knees, whilst two moved closer with Spike Rifles in hand - three massive steps and the first to act was in range, swinging the butt of his gun to hit the Sith on the head whilst the other waited in the Sith's immediate range to react.

​A full swing would've cracked his skull, splattered it like a fragile egg. Instead, the movement was controlled; hopefully enough applied force to remove him from consciousness.

The Shaman raised his staff, the Sith Acolyte's attack was potent. However, the Shaman's rebuttal was that of a battle-hardened force wielder. Using the force to separate the tendrils of lightning that he could, adverting them harmlessly to the side. Those that forced their way through his defence singed at his armour, causing him to stagger slightly.

| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

Curtis smiled slightly as the lightning made contact, but dismay took over as his attack was batted away. Before he could turn, a piercing pain wrecked his body. He had just enough time to look down, witnessing the two spikes sticking out of the back of his legs.

His pain became anger, and in a final effort, he let out a powerful force push against the Shaman. And then, blackness. The hit connect with his skull, the pain shooting down his spine as he collapsed on the desert floor.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Shaman slowly returned to his normal posture, back straightening as the bottom of his staff stewed in the sand; assisting his immediate recovery. The Brute whom had struck the Sith placed held his rifle by the barrel in his off-hand, as the Brute adjacent removed the Spikes in his legs; applying Bacta and field Bandages to both wounds.

​The Brutes spoke, chuckling amongst themselves as they shackled him; the Brute threw the Sith over his Shoulder. The Shaman whistled, and moments later a group of Skags arrived, followed by a Ra'mak escort hovering a hundred metres above in the air. The Shaman ascended to the Mountain, riding the Ra'mak as the Brutes rode their Skags underneath; the Sith was taken to their facility in the mountains.

​Overseer Craljma ordered him taken to one of their animal holding cells as they had no other place for a prisoner. The Shaman and two Zealots stood guard as Craljma relayed his capture to Xaeldrask and the Seers themselves. Their orders were clear, he remained sedated - the Shaman did what little he could to help supress the mental capacity of their prisoner until the Seer arrived.

​However, unaware to both the Chieftain of the Bryn'adûl remained cautiously aware of the recent interventions by Seer Ehud. The titan had allowed the abnormal Seer to take enemies from the field, this one was practically gift wrapped. The Chieftain suspected foul play was at hand, and would have a small fleet waiting on the edge of the system.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Ehud"] |​

 

[Ehud]

Respect.

Respect was all Ehud had ever wanted. All he'd craved. Not power. Not wealth. Not standing. He had all those things, had them for all of his short existence. But Respect was something that had always alluded him. Something that, because of his his physical appearance and ailments, had eluded his clouded, golden gaze.

Only respect would sate his palate, where the others of his kind might lust for blood. And until now, it had not come to him.

He heard the news while in his meditations. He laid on the ground, claws barely touching the path outside his home. His eyes, sickly gold, were open, flaring like sputtering candles. His breathing was labored, suckling in large gulps, only to be exhaled in sharp, piercing blasts of air. He was in the throes of a vision, one that had gripped him suddenly, violently, and now shook him like a predator.

Tap. A legacy of blood. Tap. A burst of flavor. Tap. A humanoid face, hard and weathered, yellow eyes. Tap. A tainted sword, which has killed many weaklings, unsheathed against the strong. Tap. A battle, a duel between... equals.

The tapping stops. The face becomes attentive.

"Fine."

Ehud forced himself from the vision, the pressure at his temples too much to bear. He shakes his head, banishing the strange vision for now. It had hurt him to see it, actually hurt him. Who was this person? Why did the Force show them to him?

The seer looked up, through bleary eyes, to see a servant. Ehud cocked his head. "Yes?"

"Overseer Craljima requests your presence at Caradim. They have taken a prisoner, and require your expertise."

Ehud blinked a moment, as if disbelieving the offer. Then he smiled, snapping his jaws like a crocodilian. "Then my expertise they will have."

- - -​

​

They'd had the sense to keep the prisoner sedated until Seer Ehud arrived.

Upon stepping into the cell, the Baedurin mystic got to work immediately. He kept the young mind of the human sedated during the first portion of his work, assembling his preparation. It was difficult to pierce the mind of those who had his talents, that he'd learned already. But it was a simpler thing to tire the mind. Make it believe it is constantly under duress, and it will constantly fight, until it exhausted itself. Then, the true work could begin.

It was a simple thing to twist the sedated mind slightly, to create the illusion that there was a powerful, pervasive presence at the corners of the psyche, just slightly pressing, waiting to pounce.

But as he worked, he kept getting that strange feeling. That burning in his temples. With a start, he realized what it was. What he had to do. Ehud's eyes darted away from his acquisition, and to a guard outside the cell. "Send a message to Tathra Khaeus, now. Tell him there will be a great danger approaching, one that he alone is suited for. A sword in the back, behind yellow eyes." The message was more cryptic than he intended, but the urgency was apparent. The guard rushed off, to pass his message along.

Time to get back to work.

Ehud turned his gaze back upon the small human before him. And with a sharp, mental stab, he awoke the young acolyte. And he spoke, in a deep, accented Basic.

"Welcome. Do you mind if I pick your brain?"

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] - [member="Curtis Learchin"] - [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

Curtis awoke with a sharp grunt through gritted teeth, a feeling a deep main coursing through his mind and legs. The voice came soon after, oddly soothing but cynical and foreboding. He opened his eyes, and spied the hulking form in front of him. The creature was [member="Ehud"], and it seemed to hold authority. His captor. His torturer.

"Go ahead, but don't be surprised if I do the same." He said with exhaustion, trying to pierce the mind of the beast. But he found it harder and harder, which could mean one of two things. He was drugged, or the beast was force sensitive. It was probably both. Curtis turned his head slightly, looking at his legs, where the spikes had been. They had been removed. "At least you took the spikes out."

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​The Decimus Battle Cruiser Tathra resided on was returning from a successful attack on Lon'parr. All that remained of their city super-structure was a smouldering ruin. His bloodied armour clung to his form as the titan sat among his Warriors, cleaning his Axe in the intermittent silence as his Warriors moved about the hangar, placing weapons in their respective lockers for repairs.

​Additional transports were leaving the bowels of the Decimus to return to the surface for collection of resources and weaponry. Tathra would have preferred to have remained on the planet surface, overseeing the operation. It was one of the few times he could simply enjoy a moment of respite.

​In place of it came a greater reward, Tathra had been offered a challenge. The Chieftain had entrusted a small amount of resources in the hands of Seer Ehud for transportation and whatever minutiae he required, yet it appeared as though Ehud's potential subject had revealed instead something that perhaps frightened the Seer. The Bryn'adûl forces stationed on Caradim were quick to communicate the Seer's message to the Chieftain, sending out the message as almost verbatim.

A great danger, a challenge. Tathra had known something would come of this, he'd felt it in his heart. Ehud's claims all but confirmed it. When he had finished attending to his gear, the Chieftain relieved command of his ship to Brute General Grosck Bah'azet, and rendezvoused with the fleet waiting outside of the system.

​Tathra descended to Caradim alone, he intended to apprehend the Sith and draw out whatever great danger lurked beyond their sight.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Ehud"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Ehud]

"I invite you to try," Ehud said, cocking his head as he felt the mental poking. He studied it, even as he rebuffed it, slapping it away as if he were swatting a grasping hand. The technique was different than his own. More of a wedge, and less of a hand.

He didn't respond to the young man's other comment, instead hyper-fixating on the first. This was not one of the strong. Not yet. But there was so much potential, Ehud could almost smell it. Even if he was non-Drael, there was something worth cultivating in this boy.

"Your technique is unimaginative," the seer noted, as if giving a lecture. "The mind is not a tool, or a weapon. It is an appendage. Use it not as a hammer or knife, but as an arm. An extension of the self."

Then, Ehud attempted to grab hold of the probing Sith's mind, and pull it into his own, to strangle it to submission. His psyche was like a tar pit; dark, encompassing, suffocating.

An extension of the self indeed.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] - [member="Curtis Learchin"] - [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

Curtis found himself actually listening to the beast's deep voice, as if it were his teacher. That seemed like what it was trying to do, maybe if he used the same technique it would make it easier for both of them to probe the other's mind.

"Well thank you for the les..." His sentence was cut off as a sharp pain shot through his head, causing him to gasp in pain. [member="Ehud"] was trying to break in, find his secrets. This was an interrogation like none he had witnessed before, and it was horrific. If he wasn't injured, maybe he'd have a better defence against it, but he was still recovering, and that made him vulnerable.

Trying to centre himself, Curtis used the energy he had to push back. Like a dagger through flesh, he tried to carve through the creature's advance.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] / [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​When the Chieftains vessel broke into the atmosphere of Caradim, he did not find himself alone reviewing data and reports. Instead, the titan pondered on what were perhaps misgivings regarding the Seer. So early into the Seers conquest for knowledge, his operations had begun to bare fruit. It left an impression on his mind, once more his instinct served him well. Whilst the prejudice against Ehud was not without ground, the Seer made up for his ignorance with passion.

As the vessel drew closer to the Mountain based facility, Tathra observed the barren alpine that stretched across the planets southern hemisphere. It was a beautiful maze of craggy mountains. His mind was momentary lost in thought, yet the Chieftain returned to the present as he spied something towards the edge of the mountainous biome, a collection of incredibly large mountains, creating a distinct inorganic valley.

​Tathra recognised it immediately as the location of their hidden base, the base's scanning systems locked onto his ship, directing him to a slowly extending platform. The Tarka groaned as it slowed to a halt, its bindings slowly untethering themselves as it released Tathra to the platform below by way of a localised teleportation. Spurned with a shivering wave of ionic energy, the platform shuddered under the titans weight. Whilst his disposition had been one of questions on the journey, Tathra arrived in the Bryn'adûl station with an air of confidence.

​Tathra arrived with a cruel smirk painted across his face, he wished to face whatever great danger the Seer spoke of. But first, he would review the evidence and prisoner himself. He had little time for what prattle came of the Overseers greetings, his paced footfalls quaked, drowning out their murmurs as he made his way toward where Ehud remained.

His arrival was swift. The door slid open, swishing to the side as the Chieftain hunched slightly; filtering his massive form into the claustrophobic dimensions of the impromptu interrogation area. Tathra's pace slowed, dead eyes setting on the half-dead specimen before them. His mass stalked the edge of the room, muscle-bound form clad in shadow as he deduced the Sith to be of no true threat.

​Tathra closed the distance then, standing behind and to the left of the Seer. It was clear the Seer was already drilling into his mind, pulling at what information he wished for, tearing through what he cared little for. The practice was strange, but its torturous and competent results could not be denied.

​"Seer, I hope the urgency of your request was not made in haste." ​Tathra's stringent baritone radiated from every corner of the room as his eyes locked on the frail Sith. If the Seer had wasted his time for this human, he'd remove both of their heads.

​| [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Ehud"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Ehud]

Ehud's eyes were focused on the Sith whelp's searching for understanding. From the vague psychic intuition he had, he had managed to impart some lesson to the boy. Perhaps if the child survived, they would learn from this encounter.

Considering Ehud's species, the bulky seer doubted that to be the case.

The Sith fought back considerably competently, given it's situation. They did not use 'the hand' yet, which was the most prudent and intelligent call, instead reaching for the knife. It would be no good to practice such an advanced technique against a superior foe.

Ehud welcomed the mental stabs, letting them sink into his mind. Each one carved into the morass of his consciousness, but he welcomed the headache. Instead of defending himself, he fought back, striking at the knife, the hand, the mind all the same. He attempted to decapitate the probing appendage, send it back to lick it's wounds.

Tathra chose this critical moment to speak.

Ehud had not even realized the Chieftain had entered. The tall, invincible Drael showed just how much faith he had in Ehud's abilities. Which was to say, not much. He would change that eventually.

Even while engaged in a mental duel, Ehud's voice was the same. Ponderous, yet held a certain intensity. He responded in Drael. "Caution is not an undesirable quality, would you say, my Chieftain?"

"I sensed the possibility of a great threat, coming to fruition because of this young creature's capture. Perhaps I overestimated your opponent's haste, and responded with my own." Ehud's brow shifted as he sent another hammering blast at the Sith. "I will have more answers for you in a few minutes."

In the battle of attrition, there is only one route to victory; patience.

[member="Tathra Khaeus"] - [member="Curtis Learchin"] - [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​It was clear from the Seer's posture and emotive tone that whilst not physically, he was mentally engaged, entrapped within a cosmic duel with the diminutive Acolyte. Once more, the Seer carried wisdom upon a current of impudence. A quality that perhaps would trend throughout their meetings.

​The result of his efforts would decide if Tathra would tolerate it for much longer.

​"Do what you must Seer." ​He replied in their language to Ehud, looking at the Seer momentarily before returning his gaze to the child Sith. His tone carried a wish to disengage from whatever word games Ehud conversed through. His mind was stretched, thoughts obscured by a constant layer of battle plans and statistics.

​He would dwell on other matters whilst the Seer worked.

​| [member="Ehud"] | [member="Curtis Learchin"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] |​

 

[Curtis Learchin]

A sharp ringing swept through his mind, causing Curtis to recoil physically, as much as he could in his restraints that was. It was then that he noticed the even bigger creature, this one seeming to be in command of the other. He was in too deep, and he regretted ever coming to the wasteland planet. Curtis tried to look up, breifly making eye contact with @Tathre Khaeus before his head fell back again. [member="Ehud"] was training him like an orange in a juicer, and that wasn't good. He may have been only an acolyte, but he knew some things about the Sith Empire that could be seen as... sensitive.

"Hello big guy, having a nice da..." His sentence was interrupted by another surge of pain, causing him to scream. He wanted to send a message to someone, but if he thought of them, he knew that the force sensitive one would find out who. "Find what you're looking for yet?!?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]