On a Mountaintop, With a Radio and Good Batteries

[Matsu Xiangu]

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Ascension​

Late Afternoon​

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[SIZE=12pt]Matsu hadn’t meant to go anywhere near a mountain for years to come.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She usually wasn’t one to run from pain – after all, how quickly had she forced herself to lift and flex the strange durasteel that served to fill the hollow space left behind that once was skin and bone? – but this was different. It was a reminder of a time when she’d been younger (has it really been years?) and foolish, more apt to believe someone on their word alone. A reminder of when she learned that sometimes flat disappointment was harder to be the brunt of than rage. But that was, in the end, why she sought a mountain despite herself – after all, the old adage of history repeating itself could not be allowed, would not be allowed in her story. (He killed you here – the old you. Walked in to your head and made you cut off your own arm, right there on Skye at the base of some beautiful peak. Spread-eagle in an expanding pool of red, your snow-stain the only thing you’d leave behind. Stand there and remember how easily that could have been game over. And then move on and make something of yourself.)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Downtime had come unexpectedly, a week or two that seemed wide open in a schedule that had as of late left no time for the usual lazy swath of exploration Matsu liked to cut through the galaxy. (Where will it be this time, where haven’t I gone, where haven’t I put down boots and wandered?) Ascension had, at first glance, called her name and then despite ruling it out firmly she kept coming back to it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] So she found herself on the wintry planet, at first exploring the cities and settlements along its coastlines. She had never been a fan of the cold (even in this planet’s summer months it was bitter, just enough to sink down to the bone) but she had to admit there was a certain beauty to its oceans – water forever, water farther than she could see! She’d spent some time in its capital city but quickly been iced out by stares equally as frigid as the planet itself. Whether it was so small a place that they recognized her as an off-worlder or something deeper and more fundamental she wasn’t sure, but she left soon after regardless – the tundra outside civilization was what she wanted anyway.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Leaving her small fighter partially obscured in a small grouping of pines she set off towards the peak in the distance, snow-capped and silent. She hadn’t recalled how fascinating they were and as she got closer she let herself get lost in the crunch of light snow beneath her boots, the whistle of the wind past her ears, the numbness at the top of her nose as she stared at that peak. The shock of overwhelming thought and memory she had accepted didn’t come and she crossed her arms over her chest, pressing on towards the base of the mountain.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Alen Na'Varro"][/SIZE]​

 

[Aran Finn]

​

He had been born within this cavern; brought from his mother into the bosom of the world itself and immediately burdened with a legacy. You are Chosen, Alen. You will be a God among men, and rule this world by divine right. His father had said those words to him countless times during their more tender moments, so much so that they had burned into the parchment of his mind. These words he would always remember verbatum, possibly until his death. He had almost died more times than he could count, lost his mind more than once, and yet that charter remained vivid. It had never come to pass. Perhaps this was to do with fate, but more likely it was the bearded man's stubborn nature that took him away from the path of dominance over Ascension. The man was a swordsman, a killer at heart, a leader of men but not a ruler. He wished to make his own destiny for himself, not for his psychopathic megalomaniac of a father. Alen Na'Varro had no desire to rule. He just wanted to be happy.

The man inhaled, exhaled ... his breathing slow, his concentration meticulous. From his seat, perched on a shallow stone in the midst of the high hanging cavern, Na'Varro sought to control the tempest that flowed inside of him. It never stopped these days. His descent into the Dark Side had been slow and full of tribulations. It had taken him a full eleven years of being a Darksider, two dead children, one dead wife, a dead Master who had returned as a Force Ghost and attempted to kill him and his allies, and another great deceased mentalist who had finally tipped his scales, to become a Sith. Eleven years of fighting the monster inside of him; eleven years it had taken for him to unleash. The release had been ecstasy, but the bearded man still had enough decency to be ashamed, even sickened. Still he fought on; fighting the monster, fighting the addiction to savage violence. This sensibility was balanced by his devotion to Kitt, and his need for power to keep them safe. Na'Varro now struggled to become the greatest warrior ever to live, concurrently wrestling against the idea of falling too far and losing her forever. Losing everything. As with all Sith, Na'Varro's psyche teetered on the precipice of sheer disaster.

He inhaled and exhaled again. He was strong, but he knew in his heart of hearts that he was not strong enough to obtain the peace of mind that he sought. That was why he was here. Na'Varro thought that maybe here, deep beneath Ascension's great peaks, where it all began for him, he would find the clarity that he lacked. He quickly found that with nothing but his own mind for company, the problems exacerbated themselves. His mind was still a raging tempest, a cluster with no placidity to it. There was only one person who could calm the storm, but she was not here. With that lodged firmly in the back of his mind, the man began to feel the pull of the Force.

Over his years of experience, Na'Varro had grown to recognise the Force as a partner in crime. The Force provided the direction, he himself provided the application. One could not truly function without the other. It was symbiosis at its finest. So when the Sith Lord began to feel the pull at his mind, the gentle coaxing with a grip of steel behind it, he knew there was no point in resisting. He had no will to resist. The pull of the Force, that mysterious energy, had brought him to some of his most famous encounters. The pull of the Force had brought him to compete on Rattatak, where he and [member="Ashin Varanin"] had cut each other to ribbons. It had brought him to Kashyyyk, where Raien Keth had almost killed him, and to the Unknown Regions where he had laid down his life against a Sith Lord when he was barely an apprentice. He would not ignore it now. Na'Varro thirsted for combat, for bloody constraint, and he could sense a fight was on the cards. Na'Varro was probably the best at sniffing out a fight in the galaxy. That was something he felt quite safe in claiming for himself.

Within half an hour, Na'Varro was out of the warm cavern and into the crisp winter air. In front of him, the mountain stretched upwards sharply, with small winding tracks marking the way up. Glorious.

"Behold," he said dryly, and started his ascent through the coniferous trees at the mountain's base. His opponent, his prey, would follow him up. He could feel it.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt]([/SIZE]You’ve come this far. Why stop here?[SIZE=12pt])[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] While she doubted anyone lived on the mountain’s face there were tracks leading upwards, winding in to the trees dotting its lower regions. It was passable at least in part and those parts that didn’t bend before her could be made to – at least partially. She wasn’t one for wonton destruction. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She wasn’t far in – perhaps twenty or thirty feet even, just enough to pass over the threshold of what could truly be called the rim of the mountain’s base where it began to rise – when she felt she wasn’t alone. It was a sensation she was familiar enough with, like someone had dipped in to the same pool and the ripples had finally reached her. (Someone else who knows how to swim And it’s a shark.) If she hadn’t already been on her way up she surely would have followed then – the clarity and draw of someone so far out in the middle of a place it felt they shouldn’t be was enough for Matsu.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] And there was an edge to the feeling, a promise that lured her like sin.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] It seemed that for the majority of the trek she and her prey remained equidistant and she was certain each was tracking the other with similar intent. She was in no particular hurry to reach whoever it was ahead of her as it seemed they both had the same destination in mind – a view. And Matsu liked a hunt. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] The top came faster than she would have imagined but she was glad to reach it. It felt like one more step in squelching the man that plagued her. (I need to kill him. When he’s wiped out of the galaxy along with everything he ever loved I’ll be free.) But despite the small victories, whomever it was she’d followed up was nowhere to be seen despite their presence in the Force feeling stronger than at any point during the journey up. There was danger in its pulse, hints of warning to prepare herself and even as she took in the view she was careful to keep herself a good distance from the edge in case her ‘companion’ decided to try the easy way to dispatch her. (And wouldn’t that be ironic, ending in a pile of limbs at odd angles like some painter just learning anatomy and getting it all wrong…)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] “Seems a shame to enjoy this view alone,” she called, her voice like sea-glass, worn but smooth over the wind whipping through the curled faces of stone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Yes, there was a threat – and no small one – in what joined here there on the mountain but Matsu was careful, patient. True, as all Sith she walked the line between maintaining her control and falling to chaos. But where some were explosive, leaving whole planets halved and burning in their wake, Matsu was like freezing to death – or perhaps drowning. (Silence. Perfect silence where one might live for the last thirty seconds with themselves alone, lungs burning and full of regrets while she smiles.) She was cruel and quiet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] And waiting.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Alen Na'Varro"][/SIZE]​

 

[Aran Finn]

Na'Varro had been likened to many things in his lifetime. Like his Master before him, the Sith Lord Invictus, he had been nicknamed "the Lion." Invictus had been the Lion of Ruusan, and when he disappeared into the Unknown Regions eight hundred years ago, a young Alen Na'Varro had taken that mantle. The Dark Side sect that had called Ruusan home was now long gone, their great mission an abject failure, but the Lion moniker remained, and for good reason. Na'Varro was a proud man, territorial and physically dominant in his habitat. His was to dominate his environment, protect what was his, and establish his superiority over any who crossed through his domain. Ascension was his territory ... even Sith allies such as Jared Ovmar and Lucianus Adair knew that. Not even Mikhail Shorn had entered Ascension's orbit, though that was probably more due to chance than any respect for Na'Varro's territorial nature. Anyone who came to this place risked much. Many had come to Ascension, some even to seek out its dark protector, but few had left with their lives or their pride.

It was as cold as carbonite out in the winter air, but Na'Varro hardly felt it. His mind had slipped seamlessly into the battlespace, where everything around him seemed to simplify into the pure feeling of yes and no. He was hunting now, guided by his own gut instincts and the Dark Side of the Force, married to the emotion that his power invoked. He was not the most powerful Sith in the universe in terms of his influence on galactic events. In his estimation, the deceased Velok still held that honour. However, in raw, explosive physicality ... perhaps he could claim that. For years, he had been building a skillset that made him lethal in close combat. Everything he had learned was engineered towards skilfully dissecting and brutally smashing his opponents in equal parts, with everything unnecessary discarded. Yes, perhaps he was the strongest. Now that he had fully surrendered to the Dark Side, perhaps. There were still more warriors to test himself against to prove it. More food for thought.

He scaled the mountain quickly, playing the role of the 'mouse' as he felt the dark presence follow behind him. The hunt had already begun. During the ascent he reached out with the Force, not probing the other Sith's aura so much as gauging its strength and inclinations. It was powerful enough, not quite up to the standard of the highest tier but definitely adept in the Force and well trained in its arts. As the presence drew closer, Na'Varro could determine more about it ... sharp, cool edges surrounding placidity. The aura was like a lake in winter; a thick ice sheet with freezing, still water underneath. Na'Varro's was at distinct right angles in comparison; more like a raging white water river that consistently raged with furious intent. The two Sith were two different kettle of fish, and there could be no mistake in that regard.

Na'Varro reached the top, knowing that this was where he was to spring his trap, and cloaked himself in shadow. He did not need to wait long. The first thing he noticed about his prey was her long hair, shaded in the darkest of blacks. She was tall and beautiful, as most Force users ironically were, and everything about her appearance matched what he had gauged from her aura. Already, the bearded Sith Lord believed he had the measure of her. For a few seconds, he watched her as she took in a view that he had seen a million times, for the first time. The vista was impressive, with the rest of the Vellio Dividing Range stretching out as far as the eye could see, distinct amongst the pine forests and icy tundra. Ascension was the most beautiful planet in the galaxy; as good a place to die as any.

“Seems a shame to enjoy this view alone.” Her voice reached his ears as if the wind itself carried it to him. Up here on the high peak, the wind spoke its own language of whistles and air scratching against stone. The other Sith's voice cut through all, leaving Na'Varro with a distinct impression of her power. In reply, he did not feel inclined to speak as yet. Instead, he stepped out into the open from behind where she stood and paused.

One second. Two seconds. Three. Still, Na'Varro did not speak. He merely looked her up and down; his bearing imperious and confident. His facial expression was of particular interest. His eyes and forehead scrunched themselves into a frown while his lips curled slightly upward, reminiscent of an arrogant, Shorn-like smirk ... only less so. For a few seconds that seemed like an eternity, he did not speak. But then he did.

"You should not have come here," he said almost kindly, shrugging his dark fur cloak from his shoulders and letting it drop to the snowy ground behind him. His voice was calm and measured, but far beneath all of that, a careful ear could sense the warning in his voice, and the rage that sustained him. "You should have known better."

Na'Varro made no move towards his lightsaber, but it was evident that he intended to use it.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=12pt] Matsu really should have known better.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Ovmar had warned her of this place. Not the planet itself, but the man who called it his. She didn’t make it a habit of telling her old Master her itinerary – they were, after all, far past the point of constant consultation – but it had come up in conversation and now, with her company finally showing himself, she realized why he’d appeared to be stricken by her travel plans. The flare of his power was tangible, so developed she felt she could reach out in to the air and touch it. (And it would be heat, pure like fire threatening to melt her ice and destroy her.) The problem was that Matsu, in her quiet depths, did not seek confrontation and even though Ovmar had warned her of the possible consequences of going to Ascension she had come anyway. It was not that she thought herself immune to the wrath of an angered property owner, but she had assumed that her intentions would have been clear. Why attack someone who so clearly meant to go about her business and leave? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] She had underestimated a Lion’s territorial instincts.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Even from this distance it was obvious that his height advantage was distinct, his face layered in various streaks of confidence with a smirk that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. Those were too busy taking the measure of her – perhaps, she thought, searching for where it might be easiest to break her. It was her advantage to be tiny in most ways. She usually carried the element of surprise as few expected her (so little, so quiet, so patient) to burst forth with the kind of relish she could display, content to play that role if it meant that others would fatally underestimate her. But she sensed that would not be a card she could play here. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] (A predator, isn’t he? Not so easily fooled, not so full of himself that he would look over you. But perhaps angry enough for you to find a place to burrow into.)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] A small smile curled the edges of her lips when he dropped his cloak behind him, knowing that now she’d been invited to something that was perhaps out of her depth at that current point in her life. She wasn’t ashamed to admit there were things out there more powerful than herself (because I’ll catch up, I WILL catch up) but regardless she felt herself start to respond to the warning masked underneath the surface of his tone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] “Perhaps,” she allowed, picking up a slow circle around him (and clearly even farther from the edge of the drop than she’d been before) and releasing her cloak from around her as if in response to him. “But I’ve done nothing,” she offered in following, narrowing her eyes slightly in a reptilian gesture of observation as she stalked him. It wasn’t a plea not to do what she felt he might, but if she could avoid an unnecessary fight all to the good.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt] Reaching outwards with the Force she found the simmering coal of rage in the back of his mind (beautiful really…deep red, this is always burning isn’t it? this never ends) and pressed, dipping in where she didn’t belong. It was just to test the waters, feel where she might be able to push and pull to either protect herself and stop the thick escalation of the atmosphere between them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt][member="Alen Na'Varro"][/SIZE]​