Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Soaked Pages

[SIZE=10pt]It wouldn’t be long before they landed, anonymous representatives of a very wealthy party interested in buying a very special book. Its high price equalled nothing compared to the infinite value it held for the order of Ren, its author Darth Sidious himself. Ironically enough, it’s been collecting dust in one antiquarian bookstore on Dromund Vatsu, a planet known for its Emperor-god and his obsession with powerful Sith artifacts. As such, the jungle world has become something of a goldmine for the Ren, this certainly not being the first operation to take place there. The transaction would happen in Vatsu city, and unless the Sith decided to interfere, everything was set to proceed smoothly. The female duo only had to verify the book’s authenticity, proving its current owner’s promises true, and seal the deal with credits. Nothing challenging – but those especially sensitive to the mysterious currents of the Force knew something to be amiss, even if the future was not set in stone. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Zmej briefly cast her golden hued gaze over the knight overseeing her trial, observing her. While the flame-haired woman’s appearance showed little signs commonly attributed to stereotypical warriors, perhaps except for the scar gracing her cheek, the Force brought the Ren’s true nature into the light, revealing Isla’s inner darkness in its glory. To many, it would be repulsive if they followed the foolish, dogmatic Jedi ways; Zmej Ren found it beautiful, worthy of respect and admiration, mentally branding [member="Isla Ashen"] a true devotee of the Supreme Leader. The younger, less experienced and nowhere near as powerful Ren felt truly privileged by Ashen’s willingness to spare the time necessary for this mission, especially given its primitive objective that consisted of a simple exchange. Failure was not an option though and the older knight was there to ensure all went well. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]As the blonde’s petite fingers played with the newly constructed, crude and cross-shaped weapon of hers, the disciple let her thoughts wander, imagining herself as successful as the knight next to her. If rumours floating through the academy were to be believed, such reality wasn’t that far away, though many simply found themselves impressed by the disciple’s successful streak. Zmej wanted more though, always feeling her father’s shadow stalking her like an apparition impossible to get rid of. No matter how hard she tried, how well she performed, it was never enough, and something deep inside of her knew it would never change. Once the crossguard lightsaber slipped beneath the disciple’s long robes, safely hidden underneath, Zmej pulled out something else; a small, round, flat object. The only thing her father had ever given her – his precious medal. It continued to mock her still, laughing in the disciple’s face.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Before any questions could be raised, the medal disappeared somewhere Zmej’s layered clothing. Unwilling to let it become the topic, the teenager swiftly addressed the knight, brows furrowing as she brushed away a stray lock of blonde hair.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“How many battles have you been in, sister? I am certain someone of your stature must have plenty of stories to tell and experience to share.”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] The disciple stated, offering a curious, attentive smile commonly found among young, passionate students who had the opportunity to learn something from their experienced peers.[/SIZE]
 
Isla had never held much of an interest in books.

Indeed the woman acknowledged that there were important things to learn from the pages within, but she had never been able to make much sense of them herself. She could read, but she just lacked the desire to do so. For her, experience was better gained with her own two hands. It was all a matter of opinion, she supposed. And yet, here she was on her way back to Dromund Vatsu… all in the name of a piece of written work. Of course, they had not traveled this far for an ordinary book. The words bound between the ancient cover were rumored to have been penned by Darth Sidious. It was a shame to think of his work rotting away on a dusty shelf; it was time to reclaim this knowledge for the Ren.

However, this was not Ashen Ren’s mission alone. She had agreed to accompany [member="Zmej Ren"], a loyal and dedicated disciple. Isla’s interactions with the young woman had been few, but she had heard whispers that Zmej was on the cusp of knighthood. From what she could tell, the blonde teenager was ambitious; she seemed to thirst for advancement within their ranks. And the disciple would soon face her true test.

This trial was a process steeped in tradition, a ritual that all aspiring Knights of Ren must complete. Having passed her own trial, it was now her duty to see that others did the same.Today, Zmej Ren’s task would be simple; she needed only to retrieve the book. Isla understood that the contacts had already been made, and plans arranged to make a simple transaction. Still, when dealing with an object like this, there was plenty of room for their deal to go south. Isla would step aside to let young Zmej do the talking, but she would be there to provide assistance and support to her sister. After all, the Ren were not an organization that delighted in seeing their fellows fail.

A bright glinting caught her emerald orbs, and she turned her head in time to see a round object held in the blonde girl’s hands. But before she could even raise a brow, the small trinket had been tucked away out of sight. Perhaps it had merely been some kind of good luck charm, even Isla carried one -- a primitive hunting knife. She drew in a steady breath as the disciple addressed her, an attempt to make conversation.

“Hmm.” Isla fell into a thoughtful pause,“I have faced battle during many missions. But if you are speaking of large battles, I suppose there have only been two.”

The memories of defending the Bastion came to mind, followed by the more recent events involving Kaeshana. Her eyes lingered on the disciple, studying her closely.

“And you?” She tilted her head to the side, “Are you eager to prove yourself?”
 
Large battles were not entirely new to the teen – she had tasted such on Kaeshana, though that was only one less than the older Ren counted. This, too, further supported the validity of rumours concerning her promotion, sending a fresh wave of excitement through the younger Ren’s body, causing a slight shiver at the onslaught of emotions currently swirling inside. Ignoring the lure of ambition became harder the closer it approached. Success was almost in her grasp – she only needed to keep it in sight and never let it escape. Drawing deep, powerful breaths to keep passion from claiming her heart and spirit, Zmej contained the feeling, locking it behind bars of discipline that has been drilled into her since young age. Connecting her gaze with [member="Isla Ashen"], the blonde nodded.

“Yes,” she admitted, “After years of studies and training, I can finally join the First Order’s struggle.”

There was a bump soon after the disciple’s anwer, followed by foreboding silence. They have arrived, unleashed right into the capital and its eternally stormy weather. Bolts of lightning arced the dark skies, touching the towering spires standing guard beyond the city’s walls ad pounding on one’s eardrums. Greeted by a downpour just as expected, Zmej stepped outside, hood over the blonde head, taking in the powerful dark side presence enveloping the place. Was this how Sith rule looked and felt like? The city presented a union between glass and steel, an imposing piece of architecture priding itself on tall towers and large open spaces. Constant military surveillance was a given and every now and then, a robed shape walked past, draped in signatures radiating power and fear. Quite pretty, but it lacked the First Order’s banners and the Supreme Leader’s firm hand ruling over all.

Nobody appeared to pay the two disembarking figures any mind except for one soldier, swiftly brought to the duo by quick steps, likely to check on the newly arrived passengers. Wielding a rifle as a sign of authority, the man raised his palm in a gesture to prevent the two Ren from continuing deeper into Vatsu's bowels.

“Halt! This-“

Zmej never allowed him finish. Her sulphur yellow eyes did half the work to brand her a Sith, clenched fist the other. At the dark side’s command, the soldier clutched his throat and fell to his knees, immense, unnatural pressure robbing him of ability to draw breath. One long, confidence oozing stride brought the teenage Ren closer, staring into the choked man’s face with a twisted grin carved into her expression.

“You’re standing in my way and I don’t have the time or patience to deal with you. Begone, worm!”

Releasing her grasp, she let the soldier recover, unforgiving yellow gaze observing as he scurried away with muffled words of apology.

“Is it usually this easy to imitate Sith?” questioned the teen, throwing a smirk Isla’s way, “The bookstore should be ten minutes away from the spaceport.”

Taking the lead, Zmej swiftly marched down the landing pad, entering the city's mostly emptied outskirts. Boots splashed through wet puddles formed in the streets and the disciple found her attire drenched almost immediately. For all the advantages in anonymity robes had, facing the bombardment of rain was not one of them.
 
Isla let her head bow slightly, nodding in response to [member="Zmej Ren"]. On the surface, her expression was quite neutral, perhaps boring on the lines of stern. However, inside she was wondering what it might have been like to train with the Ren from such a young age. Perhaps, deep down… there was even a tiny spark of envy. After all, her own path to the fold of the Ren had only been revealed in recent years. The flame-haired woman was not allowed to linger on these thoughts for long, for they had arrived. After the ship powered down, the Knight of Ren stood and gathered her things.

Letting a comfortable silence fall between them, she followed the disciple towards the exit. Her boots carried her down the ramp and onto the wet ground of Dromund Vatsu. The sky above was a dark expanse, filled with clouds, rain, and lighting. Just like the last time she had set foot on this world. Only, this time she would not be venturing deep into the jungle, but rather into the city. The outline of buildings was etched against the darkness on the horizon, and looked very much like it had been taken from a gloomy oil painting.

Isla drew her hood up over her face and tucked her arms under the woolen fabric of her cloak. But then, her attention was immediately pulled towards an approaching figure. A lone guard met them with an open palm, and he attempted to voice his authority… but Zmej had quickly seen to it that the rest of his words became trapped inside his throat. Tilting her head back to peer from beneath her hood, Isla made out the dark smile on the disciple’s face.

True, it had not been the most subtle way of dealing with the man. But it got the point across quite well.

“Don’t let it go to your head, disciple.” Isla said with narrowed eyes, but her lips formed a tiny smile.

She gave a nod and then continued to move at Zmej’s side. Her gaze fell to the ground for a moment, watching as her boots splashed through a puddle. Already, their forms were drenched with rain, their robes hung heavily upon their shoulders. But Isla did not mind the weather, as miserable as it was. As they reached the edge of the city, the streets were empty and most of the buildings appeared dark. But there was a small shop down the way, a single light illuminated eerily in the window.

Isla glanced to Zmej and raised her brows, as if to ask “Is that it?”
 
“Yes,” nodded the younger woman, “That is it.”

Completely inconspicuous, sunken between flashier and bigger shops, the antiquarian bookshop served like a lighthouse, the only building around to cast its bright yellow illumination onto the west streets. Its reflection in numerous puddles was soon shattered once Zmej Ren marched through, going straight to the building. Even though the sign spelled closed, the disciple tried her luck, gloved finger activating the adjacent control panel to sound a buzz. One minute or two must have passed before the door opened, bathing the two Ren in a bright, yet inviting light that invited them into warmth. Nodding at [member="Isla Ashen"], Zmej passed through the doorframe and removed her hood, blonde hair wet and sticking to the head. After both agents rested inside, the door shut closed in their back. No sign of a living souls – only a small, cosy room with a table in the middle, shelves full of books lining the walls.

Given traditional books were often regarded as an archaic matter, slowly pushed out by flimsiplast, datapads and holobooks, the sheer number gave the place a very specific smell of old and ancient, creating a mysterious atmosphere that made the visitors feel as if they travelled back in time. As if intending to reinforce the notion, a hunched figure emerged from behind one of the shelves, waving at the arrivals as he slumped into the seat behind the desk and placed a robust publication between them. Without as much as touching it, Zmej knew it to be the original one – it screamed at her through the Force, calling for a dark side practitioner to be its master.

“The book?” Zmej gasped, gaze piercing its black cover.

Much like his books, the owner’s face showed signs of old age, skin wrinkled and spotted, yet wearing a pleasant smile to answer with.

“As long as you have the credits. Please, inspect the merchandise.”

Greedy fingers snatched the hardback from his hands, carefully turning its ancient pages and skimming through, regretful to not have the time for a thorough read. Despite several centuries to its name, the book appeared brand new – the dark side must have preserved it throughout the ages, a product of Darth Sidious’ hatred. Even a brief contact such as this gave Zmej immense satisfaction though; electrifying stimulations travelled across her body, tingling the woman’s senses and fully igniting the darkness within. All of the sudden, the Force appeared to be a tamed beast, easy to control.

Perfect.

“Our employer will be very pleased – and generous. Here are the credits.” The blonde Ren stated, handing the book over to Isla and pulling out five credit chips, each worth well over several millions.

“Then we have a dea-“

A violent flash of light and smoke erupted from the man’s chest, carving an eternal look of surprise into his face. One last gasp before the body collapsed on the table and his soul travelled into the Void. No sign of the perpetrator.

“Stealing from the Sith again, Ren?”

Out of nowhere, a tall, robed, featureless figure slowly materialized in front of their very eyes, voice coming from all directions and ripping into their minds. First like a luring bait, drawing the listener into itself, then unceremoniously forcing its power into their heads and burning the words into consciousness, deep enough for physical pain to come. Curiously enough, the Force chose to remain silent, revealing no other signature or presence within the room other than the Ren. Like a shadow, the attacked spilled across the entire room and filled it with pitch black night.
 
Isla followed [member="Zmej Ren"] through the door of the small shop, gladly moving into the warmth of the ship and away from the falling rain. Everything about this small space was strange; the tall shelves that lined the walls were heavy with dust and filled to the brim with seemingly ancient texts. Her head turned slightly at the sound of the door falling closed behind them, and then turned to face the empty desk. Isla craned her head and rose up onto her toes, her emerald gaze was sent down the aisle way that lead towards the back of the shop – there was only darkness.

The flame-haired woman stepped towards the nearest shelf, her black-gloved finger slid gently along the spine of a rather worn leather cover. Slowly, the book slid into her hand and Isla studied it for a moment. She pushed out a quick breath to free the smooth surface of dusty and debris, but the title etched on the front was so faded that she could hardly see it. Isla turned to watch as a figure made its way out of the darkness, its form bent forward sharply in the way that often comes with age. The shadows played on the surface of the man’s face, but she could still see the lines that marked his skin, especially around his eyes. Perhaps this man was as time-worn as the books in his care.

As the shopkeeper motioned for the two women to approach, Isla took a few steps forward. The tips of her fingers came to rest on the edge of the counter, almost as if they were yearning to slip closer to the book that waited there. The darkness held within the pages was easily felt, a powerful and intoxicating presence. Isla remained still and tucked her hands beneath the fold of her cloak, and watched silently as Zmej lifted the book. The pages turned as the blonde girl’s fingers sifted through them, eyes turning from cover to cover.

She let her eyes close, this book had to be authentic – there was little doubt in her mind.

Her eyes fluttered open again when she felt the book slide into her grasp, and she clutched it close for safekeeping. Isla chanced a look down at the relic in her arms, and listened as the deal between Zmej and the old man came to a close. However, the last words of the shop keeper stuck in his throat, doomed to be forever unspoken. Her emerald gaze shifted quickly, just in time to see the ragged form of the old man fall to the floor.

Instantly, Isla threw her guard up.

A shadowy form had appeared before them, a wraith-like figure spun from the shadows themselves. Isla winced as she felt the power of this unknown presence burn into her mind. Of course, their simple task would not be completed to easily. Though she could not exactly see or feel their attacker, this person had to be nearby. Isla bent over the book, still held tightly against her chest.

They would have to protect Darth Sidious’ work at all costs.
 
“Stop hiding, villain!” The disciple cursed, eyes blinking rapidly as she instinctively tried to shake off the strange blinds shut over her gaze.

The outsider’s presence violating her mind hurt like a shard, robbing the Ren of focus and clear thought. Pushing it out became priority, ending his telepathic influence over her head. Whether this was an illusion or something entirely different, it served as evidence of the mysterious attacker’s skill. Completely outmatched, the fight soon turned into a contest for their very lives. Fortunately enough, the older and more experienced Ren had the precious book in her possession, allowing Zmej to concentrate on surviving the ordeal instead. How to fight an enemy she could neither see nor feel through? The oily black abyss clouded everything and the blonde’s eyes failed to see through, a typical hiss announced a lightsaber flaring to life. Instead of witnessing a blood red cross, the disciple’s vision remained shrouded.

Sheer power coursed through [member="Isla Ashen"] while she held the book, tingling in her fingertips and begging to be released. Never before did she experience such strong control over the dark side, nothing was impossible anymore. She only had to listen, use the book’s dark gift to bend the Force itself to her will, eradicate anyone in her way. The knight now turned a master - and the whole world would listen to her should she use the overwhelming might of the Force slumbering in her hands.

Zmej frantically launched herself back until a wall prevented her from retreating further. If nothing else, she denied the attacker the opportunity to strike her from behind, and while reducing her own mobility, it was better than standing out in the open. Wild swings and stabs in front of herself dissuaded the stealthy enemy from getting too close while the Ren’s mental defences waged a battle of their own, hoping to lift the curse affecting her senses. A desperate attempt at distracting the Sith followed, seeing the disciple’s hand summon and release a wave of telekinetic energy hurled forth, completely in vain aside from sending several books flying. It was frustrating, the only signature being Ashen’s – and thus the disciple focused on her, a beacon in this terrorizing night.

Finally, a soft tap landed on her lightsaber, accompanied by a characteristic hiss of two blades sharing a kiss. Like a viper, the disciple lunged forward, slashing through empty air. Fury asked for permission to step in and crush the daring opponent, but lacking sight still, it was essentially useless. Calmness, patience were the only weapons capable of piercing the assassin’s tricks, and so Zmej Ren soothed her thoughts, opting to listen with her ears perked up. Deep breaths brought much relief to the frustrated mind, allowing a passionate, almost meditative dive into the flowing currents of the Force. Although neither Ren could feel the Sith assassin in the Force, they sensed the world around if focused enough. Even the subtlest of interactions would be noticed, revealing the position of their enemy.
 
Isla was mildly aware of [member="Zmej Ren"] calling out, but the young woman’s voice was distant, lost in the cacophony of darkness inside her mind. As she continued to clutch the book, she could feel the tendrils of power slowly reaching across her hands. Just like small threads, they seemed to flow into her veins and gifted Isla insight like she had never seen. Suddenly, her emerald eyes seemed to shift and become dark as night, wide pools of shadow that contrasted with her pale skin. Isla could see that the disciple was struggling against the unseen force, doing her best not to succumb, her will quite strong in its wish to survive.

The power of the book took Isla into its grasp, holding her firmly to the spot where she stood.

Her arms extended just so, the pages were flipping themselves, revealing their secrets to the flame-haired knight. It was a powerful darkness like she had never experienced before. Even as this sensation surrounded her, Isla’s mind was calm and quiet like a stone.

Reaching out, she could feel and see everything within the bookstore – all save for the presence that was being cleverly and skillfully held from them. She could sense the musty air all around them, and every bit of dust that traveled the currents. It was there that she found the flow of a figure interrupting their natural pattern. There was a hem that swept along the hallway, disturbing the debris on the hardwood floor, and beneath the fabric, there were footsteps… slow and silent.

“The… hallway.” Her voice strained, her eyes shot towards Zmej for but a moment.

It became clear to Isla that this Sith attacker meant to take the book for himself. But he did not understand the ways of the Ren, he thought they were weak. They would show him what it was to serve the Supreme Leader, they would not fail. For the moment, it seemed that the task would fall upon the blonde girl’s shoulders, as Isla was now fighting a battle of her own.

Her presence within the force was stronger than ever, but was nearly becoming swallowed by that of the book. Isla was hanging on, clinging to the will to preserve her own being.
 
Lasting only for a few seconds, the meditation’s been cut short, cast aside in favour of the very same result Zmej had wished to produce herself. Her head sharply turned in the direction of Ashen’s announcement, blonde hair flailing wildly. By now the woman’s power spilled into the Force, signature no longer so familiar. Terrible anger stemmed from within the darkness in her form, a beast at the flame-haired woman’s command. Definitely an opponent to be feared, suddenly making the chances of winning the fight for their lives even. When [member="Isla Ashen"] spoke, voice trembling with unfathomable power, the blonde nodded in reply. There was no hesitation once the older Ren’s information passed onto her younger colleague.

Like a maniac, she spun on her heel at amazing speed, moving to face the right direction while building up energy in her free hand. Now that she knew their attacker’s relative position, nothing stopped Zmej from repeating the telekinetic push from earlier, this time hitting its mark. Not enough to make the attacker reveal himself, though definitely breaking his concentration by forcing him to address the forceful wave crashing against his body. Ages old dust swirled through the air, getting the blonde dangerously close to sneezing, but the sheer joy at finally seeing again denied this possibility. Rage started to build up as the Ren readied herself, no longer distracted by blindness. Utilizing anger itself as a weapon, she charged deeper into the room, ferocious swings whizzing through the air, humming a deadly melody announcing doom to anyone foolish enough to get in its arching path.

Each slash presented a great opportunity for the attacker to bring the inexperienced Ren down, though no counter moves have been attempted. Another splash of telekinetic energy hurled into the library, turning the tidy place into a mess, no success. Rapidly rising and falling, the movement of Zmej’s chest signed exhaustion – fighting against an invisible enemy meant fighting against everything, a tiring task, although the energy hasn’t been wasted completely in vain – denied a breathing room of his own, the stealthed assassin unleashed no more mental attacks their way. As if asking for a clue, the blonde’s yellow sight fell upon Isla again.

It became clear the Sith enemy saw more danger in the older Ren – with the book in her hands, Isla presented a great danger, one capable of growing into a threat to all Sith if allowed to continue unchecked. Rushed footsteps carried Zmej closer to her sister as she became a shield instead of a sword, bringing her crimson plasma blade down in a rapid descent that desired to slash through the emptiness right in front of Isla – and instead of continuing in its trajectory uninterrupted, another weapon moved in to intercept. He stood right there, between them – and realizing the gravity of his predicament, the invisible man let out a Force push of his own, tossing the energy at Isla to deny her the chance of striking from behind.
 
As [member="Zmej Ren"] moved forth to do her bidding, Isla closed her eyes and let the strange power of the book wash over her. Her flame red locks swirled around her face; somehow she seemed paler than usual. The dark energy surrounded her, lifting the tips of her toes off the wooden floor. Isla did not need to open her eyes to know that the disciple had unleashed a power wave into the hallway, she felt it through the force and the small disturbance that followed. Even though their opponent had not been totally disabled, he had certainly faltered. The redhead could feel every swing of Zmej’s saber, blazing a path through the darkness and dust.

Her own mind was a blur, thoughts moved past before she could even register them. Feelings too, some her own… and some that were not. Even as she peered into the unseen with her sharpened gaze, the presence of their attacker seemed to wax and wane. But the young blonde’s signature was a steady constant, and Isla could easily sense the girl’s next attacks and the frustration that bubbled up. Fighting blind was no easy task. Isla’s gloved palms trembled beneath the weight of the ancient book; the secrets held within the book were begging to be unleashed. She needed to maintain control.

Isla could not risk becoming lost within the pages herself – as tempting as it was.

With teeth gritting, she attempted to re-gain control of her actions so that she could assist Zmej in her search for their stealthy opponent. But the momentary lapse in focus made her an easy target. As she struggled within to break free, she felt the impact of the assassin’s force wave crash against her middle. Isla’s tall form was sent backwards and into the wall of the shop. She fell forward, leaving an obvious dent in the wall. Her emerald eyes snapped in the direction of the attack, and she reached out with a swift mental grasp. Though the book had fallen from her grasp, the residual power remained. Isla located the attacker’s throat, and her will wrapped tightly around.

The man’s body lifted up into the air, his limps flailed wildly in an attempt to break free. But it was no use. Isla took the opportunity to search his mind for information, and once she had gleaned enough… his body dropped to the ground.

“He’s not the only one.” She said to Zmej, “There will be more.”
 
At first the blonde’s expression showed worry when Isla found herself carried away by the assassin’s telekinetic attack, a human ragdoll to crash against the wall hard enough to wipe away all signs of hope. Without the more skilled and experienced knight, Zmej stood little chance against such a powerful opponent. Even raw rage and fury lost their value when pitted against the Sith’s disciplined anger and superior knowledge of the dark side. Victory itself spread across the assassin’s face, wildly eyeing Zmej as his next kill – a look swiftly replaced by sheer terror, realization he was about to die as Isla’s telekinetic grip coiled around his neck, squeezing it tight. A tense moment followed, ending with the Sith’s motionless body kissing the ground, almost as silently as he had moved earlier. This impressive feat signed victory – and yet Zmej Ren’s blood red lightsaber continued to sing and hum, crackling and hissing.

Sith were well known for their tricks, especially the sneaky ones. A proof was needed to confirm the kill.

Without further hesitation, Zmej dragged the fiery blade forth; painting an orange line over the floor, splitting several books in half before it effortlessly decapitated the enemy with a greasy hiss accompanied by a cloud of smoke, putting a definitive end to his threat. No matter ancient rituals, unholy spells and faithless techniques to keep one alive through lethal wounds adorning the body – there was nothing to do when the head suffered separation and rolled away from the remains. A sigh of infinite relief passed her lips once the repulsive whiff of overdone meat rushed into her nose. Now it was truly over, death reigned supreme and carried the dead man’s soul into the Void. Free hand telekinetically summoned the fallen treasure from the ground, and, just like Isla before, the blonde experience a sudden power spike bursting out of nowhere. Intoxicating as it was, the two had to move – the trap’s been sprung, escaping with their very lives now a reward for successfully completing the task. With the book in their possession, the Ren duo stood a chance. In similar way illusionists made objects disappear, Palpatine’s work smoothly vanished beneath the disciple’s black cloak.

Senses greatly improved, the dark side at command, Zmej faced no difficulty when reaching out, feeling a great deal of signatures waiting outside. It wasn’t hard to imagine a small company of Sith soldiers, rifles trained at the entrance with trigger fingers more than eager to make that final pull and unload hell upon anyone who attempted to leave.

“Hopefully there's a back door,” commented the blonde disciple, black hood moving up to cover her hair and cast a thick shadow over the stone cold expression, “There won't be any pause once we’re outside. Finding a ride will be our top priority. Are you ready, sister?”



[member="Isla Ashen"]
 
Isla watched [member="Zmej Ren"] with a knowing glint in her emerald eyes. Yes, these Sith were crafty. Instead of checking for a pulse, the young blonde wasted no time in separating the man’s head from the rest of his person. The redhead watched the disciple closely, noting the hints of relief that followed her actions. With the immediate threat taken care of, they had a short moment to collect themselves and form a plan. Through the force, she felt the book now moving into Zmej’s waiting hands, and then disappeared beneath the fold of her cloak. Even without the surge of power provided by the ancient relic, Isla knew that they would face great danger once they stepped out of the shelter provided by the shop.

“Yes, let’s move.” She said in a low tone, and started down the hallway, heading away from the entrance.

But before she passed by the last shelf of books, her hands reached up to lift a rather worn looking book. It had a thick spine and worn leather for a cover. The heavy tome had a dark aesthetic, just like one might expect of the work of Palpatine. It would serve easily enough as a decoy, Isla surmised that their opposition might not expect a young woman like Zmej to be in possession of such a notable piece of work. Indeed, there was a back door to the little shop. Isla narrowed her eyes and reached out with the force. She did not sense any threats waiting on the other side… but that did not mean they were not there.

It was important that Zmej get the book back to their ship, so Isla stepped forward to go out first. She placed her gloved hand upon the doorknob and gave the disciple a steady nod to signal that she was about to open the door. Isla slowly cracked the door open, just enough to see. The afternoon sky was beginning to wind down into darkness, and the rain was relentless. Without further hesitation, she pushed clear of the doorway and let her black boots hit the wet ground. For a brief moment, she thought they were clear… but two dark figures appeared at the far side of the building.

“Halt!” A male voice called from beneath a helmet.

“Go,” She urged Zmej, if she could secure transport, Isla would do her best to keep the enemy at bay. Her hand found her saber once more, and ignited it just in time to deflect a couple incoming blaster bolts. Though the real book was no longer in her possession, she remembered the power. And that was all she needed...
 
Sith would have abandoned their comrade – that wasn’t the case of Zmej Ren. The very idea had not even crossed her mind, leaving Isla behind an unthinkable foolishness. Offered cover by her sister, the young disciple ran alongside the building, headed to the landing pads as instructed. Barks of blaster rifles came from behind, alongside the characteristic hum belonging to a lightsaber, yet none persuaded the girl to turn around or cease her efforts. [member="Isla Ashen"] depended on her and Zmej intended to prove the trust has not been misplaced, every fibre of her being devoted to the task at hand. As the golden-haired Ren rounded the block of buildings through, a startling realization hit her, causing the sulphur glare grow wide open. Even if she fetched their ship and brought the older Ren aboard, what then? No doubt the enemy expected such tactic, rendering it a fool’s errand. Nobody would fall for the same trick twice, more so that the Sith appeared to have known about their arrival, thus effectively ruling out the escape – provided the duo boarded the same vessel.

Zmej’s eyes shifted to the neighbouring landing pad, one to also house a space-worthy vessel by the looks of it. A potent symbol of Darth Vyrassu’s power sprayed upon its plates marked it a military shuttle - loaded with soldiers, too. In a perfectly choreographed display of military discipline, they fanned out as one, blasters ready. Normally, Zmej would have been obliterated before even raising her blade in defence. With Palpatine’s gift coursing through the blonde’s veins though, all it took was a wave of her hand. Loud, terror-filled screams reached her position as the entire squad left the landing pad and plummeted down the unending, mist-filled abyss below. The disciple of Ren stood still for a moment, ears pricked up until the end. It felt good, knowing she, a small teenager, had killed several older, stronger men with a simple gesture. That, and taking sentient lives produced an intoxicating sensation like no other activity; still a fairly new experience for the young Ren.

Wielding so much power terrified her, but she was having way too much fun living a power fantasy to realize that, filled with excitement and immature joy. In fact, with the newfound talents at disposal, Zmej almost listened to the seducing voice telling her to stay and wreak havoc on Dromund Vatsu’s capital. Common sense refused such ideas though – powerful Sith walked the planet and there was no doubt one would eventually manage to seize the book. Isla needed help, every second counted. Rain continued to pound her hooded head as black boots carelessly rushed through puddles until there was no more wetness, body comfortably seated behind the shuttle’s controls, one dead man with unnaturally bent neck playing the role of a co-pilot.

A thundering roar of stressed out engines burst in bright orange flames, chaotically propelling the entire ship forward at dangerous speed. Bright sparks flew off the landing pad as the shuttle’s bottom continued to carve into the metal it’s been landed on before taking off, free like a bird, yet bound by duty. It wouldn’t be long until the hornet’s nest saw through their newest lie, ruining the cover, followed by attempts to destroy or capture the escaping ship. In fact, anyone to see the shuttle’s swift ascent would have a chance to inform the authorities, revealing it carried no officials, but two wanted enemies of the God-Emperor. As such, without any further ado, the pale skinned disciple steered the heavily armoured spacecraft in the bookshop’s direction and prayed to find her sister among the living.
 
Though Isla could not risk a backwards glance, she could feel the presence [member="Zmej Ren"] growing further away, steadily empowered by the ancient book in her grasp. The book should be in the hands of the Supreme Leader, and Isla had no trouble with the thought of dying here in the rain for his benefit. But of course, she was going to do all she could in order to prevent that fate from becoming reality. Though she had not worked alongside the young disciple before, she did not doubt her devotion to the First Order and Sieger Ren. The thought of Zmej leaving her for dead did not even cross her mind. Still, this act would only prove her loyalty to their cause.

Turning her attention fully to the task at hand, Isla let her saber sing its deadly song. The crimson blade cut swiftly through the air and soared in a fatal arc, cutting down the first man that had come to confront her. No doubt they had seen the blonde girl running off, but Isla would keep them focused on her. The second man raised his weapon in Isla’s direction, but did not have time to squeeze the trigger. Her saber had thrust forward suddenly, catching him off guard and sinking through his protective gear.

Isla stood silently, a dark figure in a drenched cloak. She could feel Sith nearby, their presence unmistakable. The rain continued to pelt the ground, her hood did little to shelter her from the droplets at this point. Her boots pivoted slightly, there were heavy footsteps approaching from the side. The image of four men formed in her mind, a brief vision provided to her by the dark side. The flame-haired woman turned to meet them, the distance between them still too great to launch another attack with her saber. She lifted her hands and focused her thoughts.

The dark side gathered in the palms of her hands, and her fingertips began to spark and crackle with energy. It was not an ability that she used often, but it was a skill that she did wish to hone. With gritted teeth, she threw her hands forward and released the torrent of electricity. The blue-hued lightning shot forth and branched out to reach all four soldiers. However, the power behind the attack had only been enough to incapacitate, not quite enough to kill. But that would be the simple part.

Or so she thought…

She approached the spot where the bodies of the soldiers had collapsed; her saber raised into the air. But just as she attempted to swing down, she felt an unseen force grasp her wrist, preventing movement. Isla turned her head quickly, just like before… there was no one to be found.
 
Adding to the red-haired knight’s trouble, another danger swiftly approached, sailing on the wind. A dark shadow came from above as something passed overhead, roaring engines successfully overpowering the drumming downpour. It became apparent the shuttle had no intention of letting the Ren go – hovering high above the ground, it spun around, cannons aimed straight at the Ren. She wouldn’t escape this situation, surrounded and outnumbered. It was after the surrounding soldiers recovered from her attack and started to get up that the transport fired, spitting one shot after another. Not at the knight as its weapon’s original position wished to suggest.

Flashes of scarlet ripped into the Sith soldiers around her as the cannon dug smoking craters inside each body, declaring the pilot Isla’s ally. Once the last man hit the ground, never to get up again, the teenager behind the shuttle’s controls let out a sigh of relief and released her thumb from the trigger to let the hail of crimson fire die. From up there, it appeared the situation’s been handled – the disciple of Ren felt immense relief upon finding her sister alive. Oblivious to another Sith cloaked in the dark side’s concealing power, the pale skinned blonde carefully turned the transport again to expose its open belly. The hole leading inside its confines promised safety. It meant freedom. [member="Isla Ashen"] only had to jump, free herself of this soggy day.

“Hop in,” muttered Zmej wishfully, knowing full well her flame-haired comrade could not hear her, albeit the shuttle’s purpose of giving Isla a chance to escape couldn’t have been clearer.

Immense power wrapped the shuttle, entangling the machine in a telekinetic web, for the spider believed the Ren staying outside had Palpatine’s work in possession, thus removing her way out meant crushing her hopes of fleeing. No other option made sense – surely the woman’s accomplice wouldn’t return if they already had the book with them aboard the ship?

Controls no longer responded as they should, technology struggled against the Force. While Zmej tried to wrestle free, little idea of what happened, but very much realizing the enemy forces had something to do with it, the entire vessel dangerously neared a close-by skyscraper. Through the windshield, she watched the shape grow in size, hand furiously pressing buttons and doing whatever possible to prevent collision.
 
Isla could sense the very timely arrival of the ship; she could feel the presence of [member="Zmej Ren"] within. Just as the soldiers at her feet began to stir, a flurry of fire came from above. The men were barely on their feet again before they were struck down once more. But this time, they would remain still and silent upon the wet ground. Still struggling against the unseen, Isla chanced a glance towards the sky. Her emerald orbs found her way to safety, the open hatch in the middle of the ship. She needed only to jump up into the shelter of the transport.
However, it was a task easier said than done.

All around her, she could feel the flow of the force. It wrapped her wrist still, and it began to wind around the ship, threatening to bring it down. Isla could not let that happen. They had they book in their possession; it was just a matter of getting back to First Order space. Truly, they were too close to let this chance slip through their hands. The rage began to build within, until she let forth a frustrated growl. A small shock wave burst outwards from her position, likely jostling the ship, too. Her anger had caught her invisible opponent off guard, just enough to reveal his position nearby. His darkened form was pressed tightly against the wall, still concealed but vulnerable.

Isla turned her narrowed eyes towards this spot, her hand reached out, almost in a way that appeared benevolent. She had quickly seized the opportunity presented, her will invading her enemy’s. Slowly, she began to drain away his power. It was a powerful feeling, to be sure, but it was also a very strange sensation. Isla remembered being subjected to the Mon Cal Sith Lord’s will in this very same way, the feeling had never quite left her. As she continued to focus and call the Sith’s life force to her, she felt him growing weak and feeble. She enjoyed this feeling, and the corner of her mouth lifted.

Once his lifeless form dropped abruptly from the shadows, Isla closed her fist around this newfound strength. She took a quick look up towards the ship, and jumped up into the cargo bay. For the moment, the ship was free of opposition. They only needed to complete their escape.

“I’m on,” Isla’s fist hit the comm button; Zmej would hear her voice inside the cockpit.
 
Zmej had zero idea of Ashen’s struggle, though even if she knew the flame-haired knight fought another Sith down below, there was little the younger woman could do. Battling an invisible foe intending to crash her ship kept the blonde disciple occupied enough, engines putting up a fight against the telekinetic grip. All resistance seemed futile, trapping her in a never-ending struggle to survive. Everything she did merely countered the outside influence without setting her free – right until the Sith found himself drained of life and energy alike. Although still completely oblivious of what actually happened, the ship’s controls suddenly gained in responsiveness. Stabilizing the vessel, desperate struggle replaced by a calm hover high above the ground, Zmej positioned it again for her colleague to board.

Joy touched the blonde’s heart when the knight’s signature neared before landing within, marking the first part of their escape plan successful. Relieved, the disciple of Ren acknowledged her sister’s words by hitting a button to shut the entry point closed. Without any other obstacle to threaten going into space, the small ship rose towards the thundering skies and penetrated the cloud-stricken atmosphere. Lightning bolts viciously hissed all around, but that passed in a few minutes. Now came the hardest task, one impossible to influence; slipping past the small force guarding the planet against outsiders.

Dark shapes of warships could be seen painted against the blackness of space, each carrying more than enough firepower to blast the small transport shuttle. Fighters circled around in swarms, adding to the menace. Zmej bit her lip in anticipation as a massive bulkhead drew closer, ready to welcome the vastly smaller vessel. Have they been informed of the theft yet? Perhaps – lacking information about a stolen shuttle though, possibly told to expect a completely different ship, no vessel attempted to intercept. Flying past the fleet and reaching freedom shattered all worries accumulated within the young Ren. Falling back in the seat, she propped her feet against the controls and let the autopilot do its job at navigating them back to the First Order space. An immature, joyous laugh escaped her lips, fully realizing they made it.

“Better luck next time.” Zmej mocked as her gaze shifted to the original pilot’s corpse, its blank stare screaming murder. Gloved hand undid the drenched cloak and tossed it at the body before both gloves fell off as well, landing on the floor. Finally, she could touch and feel the ancient book’s texture, its power still running through her being. It was wonderful and extremely rewarding - soon, she and [member="Isla Ashen"] would be celebrated throughout the ranks of Ren for their recovery of Palpatine's precious wisdom.
 
In the solitude of the cargo bay, Isla took a moment to catch her breath. Their trip to the bookshop had not gone as planned, but it truly could have been worse. The two Ren had managed to escape with their lives and with the precious work of Palpatine – it was a victory. Her emerald eyes shifted slightly, eyeing the ceiling and walls of the transport. Perhaps they were not out of the woods just yet; she could sense the presence of the other ships surrounding them. There was a brief moment of uncertainty that made her heart skip a beat. The redhead made her way quickly to the cockpit, where she found [member="Zmej Ren"] in the pilot’s chair.

Isla remained silent, merely watching from the doorway.

She was pleasantly surprised that no vessels had moved to intercept them. A breath released and slipped from between her lips. Silently, Isla observed the blonde disciple basking in her accomplishments. Indeed, the young woman did deserve a moment to enjoy the fact that she had completed a very important task. Now, she truly was one step closer to becoming a full-fledged Knight.

Her head bowed forward slightly, her gaze obscured slightly by locks of red. Isla reflected quietly, remembering the way the Zmej had displayed such an easy sense of confidence. The young disciple had also demonstrated a number of her abilities and her prowess in battle. Her loyalty had been tested, and she had chosen to bring the ancient artifact back to the hands of the Supreme Leader, when she could easily have tried to keep it for her own. Of course, that would have been an unfortunate choice.

Isla canted her head to the side, a ghost of a smile found her lips.

She would look forward to seeing Zmej Ren continue to grow and serve the First Order.
 

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