Reaver of Savior

[Vash Windrider]

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Nar Shaddaa - During Skirmish​

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The top levels of the city of Nar Shaddaa were burning. Small scale skirmishes and pockets of resistance were attempting to resist a culling of the heard that was underway. Flesh, credits and spice would be taken to feed the appetites of monsters and men. It was the their right to take what they willed and Vash was no different.

While the top levels burned the assassin slithered down below. Slipping into the shadows to move about, undetected and unopposed. For the moment. While the rest of his brothers and sisters did what came natural. Vash pushed deeper. He did not seek to just blow off steam, An under boss perhaps.

 

[The Firefox]

"So mother doesn't think I can handle it, is it?"

High above the system of Nar Shaddaa was a single Sith craft that was not designed for space combat. The ship was named The Retribution and was owned by a young woman by the name of Clara Cole. The ship was in tip top shape, only a year old, though basically unused. The ship was more a second room than a space vessel for it spent most of its days docked in a hangar. Though well lived in by the private-kept girl, it's engines were top of the line and there wasn't a scratch to be seen on the outside. Clara only hoped it stayed that way.

Making sure to stay well within the sights of the Imperial patrols, she followed them down to the planet's surface, following the various ramps and service tunnels until she got to the lower levels. Most of the planet had been taken by now as far as the surface was concerned. But Nar Shadda, like so many planets nowadays, had tiers upon tiers of levels under the main sectors. She'd heard Coruscant have over a thousand! If her memory served her right.

Finding a decent spot down below she brought the ship down and docked it where it wouldn't be crashed into by mistake. Clara had a knack for flying; her father taught her everything she knew. She wasn't about to ruin her pride by getting blown up on the first run out. She had no droid to stay behind and watch the ship though, which could be troubling at times. Nar Shaddaa was a dangerous place. But that was alright. She didn't think she'd need any sort of protective functions on her ship what with the whole planet freaking out and attacking one another. No one would pay attention to an offline cruiser.

Departing down the ramp she would at least lock the spacecraft up before stepping into the grungy air that was Nar Shaddaa. She was dressed in a light military outfit so she had some protection at least. The suit had all the basic functions such as chest plates, arm and leg vambraces, and most importantly a clip for her curved Brylark lightsaber hilt. The weapon -like the ship- was hardly ever used for when she trained she was typically using practice weapons. To be honest though, her training sessions were few and far between. Her mother wished for her to work more on her studies than craft with a blade. She got a few good lessons from her uncle, and the stubborn teen was more than confident enough she could handle a few rebels and low lives. She had the superior weapon after all. That, and the entirety of the Force at her command.


"Nar Shaddaa....here I come."

With a snap of her wrist her saber was ignited and a red hue lit up the space around her. She was ready to cut down some low lives. And what better way to draw the roaches out than to give them a big red target? Clara headed into the dark corners of the lower levels searching out her enemies. She knew they would be hiding. She only had to follow the sounds of the guns and explosions.

Turning several streets down she eventually found the fighting. She'd passed a few establishments on the way that had lost power that she could feel had lives within it. But if they weren't rushing out to strike her down she figured they were innocent. Her mother had always told her to never kill unless necessary. Sure it was part of the Sith code to take what one wanted, but selfish killing never got anywhere. A person could always hold some value, even as a prisoner. While Clara had no way of taking someone back to Ziost with her like her mother did, the sentiment was there: no killing.

That didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the fight...or provoke someone into forcing it upon themselves. If she were in danger she'd have no choice but to roll a few heads. The idea made her sadistic little brain wind like cogwheels. Looking out into a large opening of land -possibly a hotel or casino grandway- she noticed several blockades had been set up. All across the large walkway were pirates (she assumed) carrying ammo and boxes of grenades. They were stocking up to hold this position down for when the Sith armies pushed their way in. Only, Clara had gotten there first.

How perfect! If she took down this whole camp herself then her mother would have no choice but to enlist her to the services! She could be trained as a real apprentice and taught all the secrets of the Force and the universe and secure the galaxy under the rightful true power. Giving her ligthsaber a quick swing she let the beautiful sound of its vibration echo around her and then she boosted herself into the fray.

The pirates had no idea what had happened. Clara was suddenly right there with them swinging her blade and lobbing off hands as if she were collecting them for sport. She laughed and kicked one of them backwards so hard he tumbled a stack of boxes over. Now she got their attention. They began to fire blasters at her, and her training kicked in. Block, dodge, weave. Don't let your guard down.

Click

Look out behind you. Clara forgot about that one. Holding very still, she every so slowly turned her head and noticed the butt of a handgun pressed against the back of her head.

"Drop your weapon, Sith scum."

Oh crap.

 

[Vash Windrider]

He moved in the shadows of the slummy allies. The black cloak of his robes concealing the predator underneath. The Nightseer armor underneath protecting his from the vile content of the planet. Which was good, due to the smell coming off of some of the vents in the lowers slums. But it was the slower, more concealed path, he had chosen. Rather then that of his brethren.

Finally, a payoff. Vash peeked out from the shadow of the ally. Finding just what he had been hunting for. Some sod minded lower level under boss had it in his mind that he would barricaded himself inside this sad little slum level casino. Thugs and slaves alike were stocking up weapons creates and speeders for cover, poor as it might have been.

What the assassin did not expect, could not have, was the poor formed and unskilled charge of some half cocked fellow Sith. The charge in it self would of made sense for a powerful warrior. But Vash could feel in the force that she was not that. If she was, he planned to see about her Master when they returned to Sith space. Because this was just sad. Sweeping basic attacks, striking mostly arms or weapons. Little force use to increase her attack or shield herself from enemies starting to surround her.

And there it was. A Trandoshan at her back with the business end of a blaster at her head. Demanding her surrender.

"Foolish little girl."

 

[Alexis Solis]

"I said drop it," the thief growled again.

Clara was too terrified to move. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to drop her saber. She'd made that on Ziost, her mother watching her carefully and guiding her hand. That crystal picked her, it was as part of her as her own heart. She couldn't just surrender it to some thugs with no decency to bathe regularly. Not a chance.

Well the choice was made for her . The man with the gun adjusted his aim and shot her point blank in the back of her right shoulder. Being so close it burned clean through both sides of her armor, and left a nasty hole through end to end. Clara screamed as the pain hit her and both she and the saber dropped to the floor. Falling to one knee she clasped her burning shoulder and curled into herself; the pirate kicked away her saber to the side where another of his buddies claimed it.

"Time to die, scum," the pirate said again and moved his barrel back on to her head.

"No!" cried the redhead.

With a sharp twist of her waist she turned toward her bad shoulder and thrust her left arm to the man behind her. A solid wall of Force energy slammed into him making him go sailing; his blaster fired a shot that went high and burned into the front of the building. Hearing the sound, the rest of the men opened fire too, a force of habit and instinct. Blaster fire tore into the area as they all tried to take down the would-be Sith.

But Clara was fast. While she proved she needed far more work with her saber, she was still physically fit, well trained in hand to hand, and a genius with the Force. At least, for someone her age. Jumping and spinning in careful tumbles and handsprings, the redhead treaded through the wires of red bolts that sailed past her like it was a dance. Each second counted, for staying in one place too long was certain death. And without a weapon, she had to improvise.

Using the Force as much as she could, Clara would attempt to trip the men up by pulling them or tugging them with an invisible hand. She was clever as she did it, moving them into the way of their own shots. Others she simply shoved to get out of her way. For a moment, it actually looked like she might pull it off.

Had there not been so many she might've had that chance. Finally one managed to get behind her and pull her into a powerful bear hug that lifted her up off the ground. Clara screamed in protest as she tried to kick her way free until the pig-alien holding her squeezed even tighter, thus putting more pressure on her wound. The girl howled in pain which gave the other fiends a chance to rush in and subdue her. Her cries ceased when the first one came up and bashed her head with the butt of his rifle. A large gash in her forehead spilled blood down her face and her body went limp.

"Throw her in a container," one of them commanded the alien holding Clara. "She'll make an excellent prize for someone."

A few meters away was a rectangular crate that had previous held rockets in it. The alien brought her over and tossed her into the straw filled box then slammed the lid shut. Another came and locked it. A third used a welder to seal the lid. By now, soft and muffled knocking came from the other side as Clara used her good arm and her feet to try and kick her way free. No such use. Without her saber she'd be pretty well stuck in there. And if not for the wound making her head fuzzy, she couldn't even begin to hold the Force long enough to fight her way out. She was good and stuck now.

 

[Vash Windrider]

He could not believe what he was watching. Such raw potential, wasted. She was aggressive but sloppy and bore minimal technique. She allowed the enemy to take her back, shoot her, and rob her of her weapon. The weapon was quickly claimed by one of the thugs and though this acolyte attempted to redeem herself. It was to late. For her to fight was over before it ever truly began.

Vash used to poor defense to further mask his movements. As the Sith Knight moved closer, cloaked by the stealth system of his armor. He let the thugs toss her into the container and seal her away. The best place for her for the moment. The assassin then used the force to reach into the pitiful mind of one of the thugs. A Gamorrean. The most common and simple minded of scum. Pushing into his mind was like like pushing his finger into jello. Implanting his will over the thug was equally as simple.

"They cheated you, kill them. Kill them all"

The pig faced held his head a moment and then snorted in anger. Without warning he used his blaster carbine. Shooting both of the thugs that had carried the girl first. Next blasting his partner next to him and finally two more who were standing near the first two, just before they returned fire. It was a blood bath that started and ended in seconds.

One started the crawl away. Wounded and slowly dying. The blaster would searing the flesh and insides of his right side. The prize of the saber hilt on his left. The nearly invisible outline of the cloaked Sith moved until his stood over him. Suddenly a solid red beam cut the barrier and lowered the cloak of the armor. As it plunged into the skull of the now dead thug. Vash then switched the blade off, and plucked the other hilt from the corps.

Moving to the create with the girl. He danced a couple of fingers, using the force to release the locks and open the container.

"Pitiful!"

 

[The Firefox]

It was impossible to tell what was going on outside the weapon crate. Clara couldn't hear anything as the heavy durasteel box was being sealed in. The men clearly weren't being very smart about sealing in her though as she'd lose her air supply rather quickly. Especially since she was screaming the whole time trying to escape. Clara pounded on the walls and kicked with her feet. She screamed at the top of her lungs for someone to let her out. She could already feel her air getting denser. A burning heat was coming out from the edge where the lid shut. Clara leaned away from it so as not to catch any lose sparks that were flying about. The redhead began to cough and sputter, while she covered her face from the melting steel.

Was this the end for her? She was going to die in some makeshift coffin? Clara couldn't handle it. She wouldn't except it. Her world started getting darker now, and not just because whomever was using the welder stopped their task. Clara felt like the walls were literally closing in one her. She began to breathe even heavier now as panic started to rush through her. She continued banging on the metal and trying again to reach out to someone. "Please! Please! I can't breathe! Please!"

The box was getting even hotter. Clara swore something inside had caught fire as the air now smelled like something burning. She banged against the walls harder. "Please!! Someone!! Please!!"

Then without warning the lid flew open and neon lights shined down on her. But from the outside, [member="Vash Windrider"] would see something very strange. The second the flid flipped off smoke would burst out and vanish from inside. Smoke? Had someone tossed a flare in there when they locked her in? Were they actually trying to burn her alive in there? Or...had the flame of their torch caught something from the inside on fire? That was the most likely of the possibilities.

A moment passed and Clara's good arm reached over the edge and pulled herself over to the other side, landing her on her back at Vash's feet. She was breathing heavily and coughing in the process. Tears had formed in her eyes which were red from the smoke inhalation and lack of oxygen. But Vash would notice one other thing, some of the straw still inside the box was burning still (some had burnt to a crisp). There actually was a fire. It's a good thing he came when he did. Otherwise, Clara would be toast (pun intended).

"Thank you..." she struggled to say in between coughs. Clara slowly squinted one of her eyes open to look at the Sith with blurry vision. Her eyes were still watering so she couldn't see him clearly.

 

[Vash Windrider]

As the crate came open it was clear to him that something was a miss. Not only in the girl and her childish emotions but in the condition of the box itself. The crate was simple enough. Durasteel and mag locks. Nothing that should of help her for long, if she had the training and mind to set force to task. But instead the inside was smolder and char. Burning where not flame or even spark was ever made. Because he had her hilt after all.

The wounded girl was a babbling mess and the crawled out of the crate on at Vash's feet. The Sith Knight removed the mask of his helmet to reveal to Clara his glaring red eyes.

"I am Vash Windrider, and you child, are a sad excuse. For anything. I should of let them have you, and would have if we still culled the weak from those of us with true power and skill. "

He loomed over her, perhaps not unlike her Master or in her case mother. Not that he was aware of such things. However the hunt for others was going cold. Saving her likely allowing his true prey to live another day. Yet more payment he would exact from her or who ever her mentor was.

"I watched you that entire time. You lack much, yet looking at this crate you play with abilities far beyond your skill level or ability to control. Perhaps I should of left you there to burn yourself alive then. Saved myself the trouble?"

 

[The Firefox]

The man stood above her and would take off his helmet revealing to her his chiseled jaw and sturdy cheekbones. His red eyes glared down at her but Clara was not in the least bit intimidated by them. Actually, she found them to be rather beautiful. Red always was her favorite color. The Sith introduced himself as Vash Windwider. A strong name. A proud heritage of Sith warriors before him. But what he also shared with her was the fact that friendliness was not a virtue he cared to have. He insulted her by calling her a child and that if the Sith still followed their old ways he'd end her for that weakness right then and there.

Clara was baffled. Such malice, such harsh words. There was no need to be so cruel. They were on the same side after all. Why the hostility? Moving to sit up the redhead got to her knees and grimaced in pain. She clasped her shoulder which was still aching from the severe burn and missing tissue. She glared at Vash, determining that he was not worth her time, nor would she thank him for saving her. Vash then continued to attack her pride by saying she lacked skill. Then, further poking at her wounds, he asked if he should have just left her in there to burn.

"They just caught me off guard," she spat back at him with a hiss. Clara started to get up but the pain in her shoulder caused her to groan in agony and fall back down to one knee. Picking her head back up she looked at him and continued. "Besides, no one asked you to interfere. I can handle myself."

As she looked up she noticed that her saber was clipped to his belt. Clara let go of her shoulder and extended her hand as if to ask for it back. But her tone showed she wasn't asking. "Give me my blade. Now."

 

[Vash Windrider]

"You ran into the center of them. Blind, swinging wildly." he spat back at her. Matter of fact-ly but with a hair of sarcasm. He continued to glare down on her. Careless to her feelings but amused at her sudden show of fight. As she mentioned not needing his help in getting out of the box he could hardly resist the need to laugh. A laugh and deep but rather dark sounding thing. And he seemed genuinely amused at the retort. "Yes, I've seen first hand how well you handle yourself."

As Clara reached for her weapon she lost, demanding the return of her weapon. Vash lifted his arm, bending at the elbow to only move his open hand. Slowly closing his fingers into something like a claw. The force obeying, digging invisible hooks into the burned flesh of the acolyte. His hands would continue to close into a fist, Causing the tendrils of dark energy to rap around the bone and tissue of the would. Slowly crushing the would.

"You have not the rank, the skill, or the power to demand anything of me but mercy."

Amused with her suffering. Vash then opened his hand once more into a claw, using the force to draw out what little energy within the force that Clara might of had. The black tendrils of his dark power reached further into the wounds and along her shoulder and neck as the force seeped away from Clara and into Vash's waiting hand.

 

[The Firefox]

"I said I could have handled it!" she cursed right back at him. Clearly he didn't think she could handle that, and that was making the redhead very angry. She was about to show him the extent of that anger when he then called up his connection to the Dark side. He attacked her exposed weakpoint, crushing her open wound at the opening. Clara screamed as she dropped back down to both knees and then immediately onto her good/left side. Her left arm clutched the shoulder as she tried to ease the pain but there was nothing she could physically do save for trying to retaliate; which, was not something she was mentally capable of doing right then.

Vash spoke down to her as she cried out in pain, claiming she had no right to ask for anything but mercy from the Sith. Had she not been so angry at him perhaps she would have. But Clara was the daughter of someone grand, someone powerful. She'd not sully that name by begging for forgiveness now. Rolling onto her back she arched her back and continued to squirm under his brutal grasp upon her shoulder. Vash then continued his onslaught by then draining her of the Force. Clara felt suddenly weaker, like the very life was being pulled from her. Her left arm then left her shoulder and weakly raised in his direction.

For a second, it would look to Vash like she was finally giving in and begging him to spare her. Her pathetic attempt to plead for that mercy which was her only right. But at the last second, she would call upon the very last ounce of energy she could muster and grip her saber's hilt. The metal and wooden grip would snap from Vash's belt and to her hand where she gripped it firmly before passing out at his feet. Her last act of deviance: to die with her saber in hand....



At least, unless Vash had other plans for her...

[member="Vash Windrider"]

 

[Vash Windrider]

He could feel her connection to the dark side. It was strong but wild. With it he could also feel her hate, distrust and fear. But it was not for him, though there was some of those emotions for him. It was yet hard to tell where it was really directed toward. It didn't really matter to the Sith Assassin. He was focused on shower her she was not all she thought she was. In any case she was losing consciousness. How ever much fire she thought she had, her body was betraying to true will.

As one last attempted act of defiance, she tried to use the force to pull her weapon from him. Succeeding only to take it off of his belt before losing consciousness. Vash would release his hold on her, reach out and take the hilt back in hand as it flew in mid air. He would return the weapon back to his belt. Then reach down, taking her nearly lifeless body by the thick of her red locks. Pulling her to him before calling on the force to embrace them in shadow.

The shadows rolled over them, like a rolling fog. Pulling them ever deeper intl the abyss. One moment they were at the slums the next they were at the floating lauch pad where both of their Sith ship were resting. Vash would wave of the pilot droid to leave the shuttle and pilot the acolyte's vessel. A light freighter.

The droid would take the girl, carry her into the ship and deliver her to the soft couch of the within the living area of the ship.

"Send a message to one of our raid ships to pick up the shuttle and then set a course for Empire controlled space." he commanded. The droid giving only a nod. Then jumped to lightspeed.

 

[The Firefox]

As [member="Vash Windrider"] entered into her ship, bypassing her easy locks on the ramp, he'd come to find the center of the ship was round like a clock.

The first part of the ship essentially would be at the 4 O'Clock position, assuming the cockpit was 12 O'Clock. From there, you could head left to leave the circle; or go right, clockwise, to see the other side of the ship. By turning left and entering the Starboard side of the ship, you would reach the kitchen. Along the South end of the ship would be an L-shaped kitchen, complete with stove, sink, and fridge. The Northern end of this room would store the dinning table with had two long benches on either end, which could hold at most eight people.

The other exit to the kitchen would be the North end of the ship and would take you to the cockpit. There were only two chairs in this room because the cockpit was smaller in size than most other cruisers. The cockpit would be placed at the 12 O'Clock position in the circle and continuing from the port side of the corridor would bring you to the 9 O'Clock side. Here is where you would enter to the very center of the ship which held a ladder up, and down as well, to manual gun turrets on the top and bottom of the ship.

If you chose to leave the circle at the 9 O'Clock you would enter into a single, short corridor with three adjacent doorways. The room to the left, or rear of the ship, would be a simple closet which held towels and such for the bathroom directly across from the closet, which would be the front of the ship. The bathroom included your basic toiletries and sink space, and it was complete with a stand up refresher which could hold two bodies in, albeit not very comfortably.

The main doorway of the mini-corridor led to a room which would hold Clara's bedroom. This room took up the remainder of the port side wing. Her room was large for a typical spaceship's bedroom, something she insisted in the buying process way back when she 'shopped' for her ship. It was shaped like a pentagon, with the walls moving closer together in the back. She very well could cut this room in half and make a second bedroom next to it, but why bother when she never planned on having a house guest?

Along the far wall was a cutaway that continued the bedroom where the redhead had set up her bed. There was just enough room for her to sit up in her bed without hitting the ceiling. The bed itself was large enough for her and one other to lie side by side, though it wouldn't be too comfy as Clara would often toss and turn in her sleep. The rest of her room was decorated in an, oddly enough, pink color. Pink didn't really seem like this girl's color, what with all the red she liked to wear, but could you blame her? The floor had a round circular mat that she would use for her meditation. The left side of the room, which was the South side of the ship, was a long dresser for her clothes; the right was a vanity table for makeup and other things. It was cluttered and messy with clothes and medical supplies as well as a few certain objects that women tended to have when living on their own.

Lastly, continuing around the clock-like corridor of the ship, at the South end or 6 O'Clock was a lookout window; coming full circle around, it also connected back to the ramp and kitchen. Along the window was a small bench that could be laid upon if one wished. Clara would often sit on the bench while leaning against the wall with her legs tucked up to her chest and read in her free time.

This is the couch that the droid would set her on, choosing the first one it showed. Where Vash went from there was his own choice. He could go into the cockpit, or perhaps the kitchen for food. Or, to be a complete poodoo of a person, go into her bedroom and claim the bed for her own. It would be several hours before Clara woke up, but eventually she stirred and slumped out of the couch window. She opened her eyes, used to waking up after a long sleep on the couch from accidentally passing out from reading. She looked out the viewport and noticed the blue stream of light which again she didn't think was weird. But as she rounded the clock-like hall to the bathroom she noticed something moving in her cockpit.

Confused, Clara would go and see the droid which made her jump. "Who are you!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing on my ship!"

 

[Vash Windrider]

The droid looked up from the controls of the ship, Gave the girl a side glance look up and down and then returned his attention to the controls of the ship with a binary scoffing sound. "I am an HK-51 droid. Master prefers to call me Aitch, I am programmed to assist Master Vash with all things he needs. In this particular case, to fly this ship. As the meat bag who owns it could not manage to hold her own in a fight with other meat bags and the Master. Thus getting herself knocked out. Question, what is your name meat bag ?"

 

[The Firefox]

Clara was baffled. Not only because this Droid claimed it belonged to someone else, but because it was insulting her. Was it the Masters words just being repeated, or did this Droid have some serious circuits lose? The girl listened as the anger built inside her which made her reach for her saber only to discover it was not on her belt. Clapping her clothes in a panic she looked down and around herself wondering where it was. But in the process of doing that, she moved her arm a certain way and all of the pain from last night came rushing up. On her sleep deprived state she hadn't noticed, but now the pain was back. It had somewhat healed while it had been stationary, but like any burn physical contact made it worse.

Clara would fall to her knees and grab at her shoulder. She was still wearing her armor, and it was practically melted into her clothes and her skin from the gun's blaster bolt. The hell happened? Someone saved her but didn't bother dressing the wound? What if she'd been bleeding!? Groaning, she turned away from the Droid and rushed to her hallway closet and began ripping things out to get to a medical bag she'd not once opened. With some struggle pulling the zipper, she managed to pull out a Bacta-pen and spray down the wound. It sizzled and fizzed against her skin making her cry out once again. But at least time some good would come of it from the medicine inside.

After emptying the cartridge at both ends of the shoulder piece she then tossed aside the pen and fell down to her back to look at the ceiling. Her heart rate had spiked and her breathing was going just as fast along with it. Clara whimpered a little from the pain as she waited for the meds to kick in. And as she lay there, she noticed a certain aura that was dangerously close to her. Someone else was aboard the ship.

Sitting up, she crawled backwards into the round dial of her room and called out, "Whoever's there...come out. I mean it!"

 

[Vash Windrider]

Vash had been sitting alone in the dark and shadows of the ship's cargo hold. He could of taken any space he wanted to but seemingly enjoyed the wealth of emptiness and silence that the hold provided. As such he could fill the void with his emotions, allow them to boil and run over as he meditated within the dark side. He had no cause for concern, or care of the young woman who managed to ruin his little hunt. All that mattered was his connection to the force.

But even so careless to the young woman. He could feel her as she moved about the ship, as she woke, moved about the ship. He could feel her and her aura in the cockpit of the vessel and returning to her room for what ? A med pack perhaps?

His blissful silence would suddenly be broke as the groaning tone of her voice filled the ship and demanded he show himself. To no surprise he did not even bother the flinch yet alone stand. Instead he reached out into the darkness with his will. Found her tiny but willful aura in that void of darkness and latched onto it. His will and power seeping past the barriers of her mind until it took seed within her thoughts.

"What is it, child ?" his voice now thundering within her mind. Low and smooth but thunderous all at once. Bellowing inside her mind with such intensity as to push out other thoughts

 

[The Firefox]

A dark voice had found her. It creeped inside her mind making Clara groan and wince in pain. Her good arm shot up to her temple where she tried to pry him out, but it was too late. The Force tendrils of power had already worked their way into her consiousness and burrowed inside. Clara cried out loud as she tried to fight it, "Who are you? Get out of my head!"

Struggling to stand up she started walking towards where the feeling came from. She had to fight this man in person. She couldn't do it from afar. She made it to the ramp of her ship and leaned against the wall as she tried sliding her way to the lower floor. "Get out...." she pleaded with the voice. "Get out of my head. Get off my ship."

 

[Vash Windrider]

Vash scoffed within her mind. As if this was all just a game to him, playing inside her head was indeed just that. He could feel her attempt to resist but it was to late. He was now firmly within her mind, burning pathways within to do so as often as he saw fit to do so. Her cries were amusing however. The whimpered little groans of pain like a sweet treat as he could feel her emotions within his connection to her.

"Who am I, your savior. I am the Sith Master who saved you from your own failure." his voice again boomed in her mind. He could feel her getting closer, but it made no difference. Her suffering only continued and the harder she fought to push him out, the deeper his hold only seemed to get. "There is a lesson here. A show of power and skill you do not have, but you could. You could be so much more then a willful little brat living within the cold and lacking embrace of the Confessor."

 

[The Firefox]

The aura was coming from below her. It had to be. He was in her cargo hold. Still sliding against the wall as she leaned into it to walk, the redhead moved further down the ramp and fell into the hold once the doors opened. She groaned again, still grabbing at her shoulder which had yet to stop throbbing. The voice called out to her, claiming he was her savior. The voice was louder now. Clara cried out.

She stood up again, looking out into the darkness of the hold for the man. She moved toward the voice in her head as he spoke about the power she could have. Rather than being the spoiled brat of her mother's heritage. Clara froze. What did he say? He mentioned...her mother? How did he know?

"You don't....know anything!.....about.....my.... FAMILY!"

The girl fell to get knees and began to scream, using as much Force power as she could muster to pull Vash out of her head. The crates and spare tools lying around would begin to shake and rise up into the air. Clara drew power from the deepest depths of her core. She believed in the Dark side. It would not let her fail.

"Get...out...of...my...head!!"

 

[Vash Windrider]

Vash was still within her mind. He could see details understand the emotions within those details. Knew without completely knowing who and what her mother was. For if it was within her mind, he could sense and search it out. He could indeed teach her such things and much more. So much more. But it would be up to her if she would be willing to learn.

All the while he could feel her building power. He suspecting that she was intending one last effort to much him out of her mind. He could feel her aura within the force and feel that she was indeed able to be something far greater then what she was. He also knew she needed a win, She needed to know she was not completely useless. So with her one last futile effort, he withdrew from her.

"Well done." he spoke from the shadows before her. Now standing as he could feel the young Sith girl move ever closer to him. "Look around you and see what a little focus and guidance can achieve in you" he of course was talking about the power she was using to what she thought was forcing him out of her head. "kneel child, and take your place as my apprentice. I alone with show you the true power of the dark side and how to wield it. Far beyond that of your mother."

 

[The Firefox]

Victory. She had done it. With a surge of pure willpower she managed to push out the snake. The feeling was like coming up for air after holding one's breath for too long. Clara inhaled a large gasp of air as she relaxed and fell into herself. She felt like she was sweating, but her arms and torso were chilled to the bone. The numbing sensation in her shoulder was just starting to take effect as well. Another small win.

The voice spoke aloud to her, causing her to look up and around in the shadows. It was so dark down here as neither of them had turned the lights on. But Clara knew where the man was. He called to her, beckoning her forward to come and kneel at his feet. This was it. Someone finally wanted her. She could be trained. She'd come to Nar Shaddaa in hopes of joining the Sith Empire, and now she could.

With one last effort Clara got to her feet again and slowly inched her way to the man before sinking to her knees and lowering her head. She was exhausted, and the chills in her system were making her feel even weaker. She didn't know it, but she was on the verge of getting a fever as her body fought against the wound that had yet to be examined . But Clara couldn't worry about that now. Her dream was right before her. All she had to do was take it.

"I pledge myself...to your teachings, my Lord. Train me. Teach me the ways of the Dark side. Mold me....into something worry in your eyes...My life is yours. Please, accept me."