Subjugation

[Darth Empyrean]

Bastion
Harper's Respite
__________________________

A soft breeze blue what hair laid on Maliphant’s shoulder to his back, though it did little to distract him. The soft and constant pressure of the wind, the warmth of the beating sun, even the distant cries of birds in the midst of their mating calls; nothing took from Maliphant what he held so close in those moments. Even as the roar of the waterfall caressed his ears, he never failed to move from his meditation.

It was Harper’s Respite, the beauty that surrounded it even now taking away much of the foreboding nature that was taking root. Only as the dark presence neared his home did he open his eyes, having taken only a single breath in the last several hours of his meditation; enough time to get him ready. He’d have to have every sense accelerated, every measure controlled, for what he brought upon his home was a warrior.

A prophet of war.

Her name was [member="Darth Morrow"], someone he didn’t know he once met years prior in another duel. The Sith had challenged her this day for her respect, to bring her into the folds of his growing influence, or suffer a fate worse than death; to be disrespected by another Sith in ritualistic combat. He knew his only choice, to fight until he could move no longer, and he only hoped the other had intended to bring such gruff.

Maliphant sat in the arena outside his home, a place layered in sand with large walls on the outsides to keep any creatures from entering. The observation deck would hopefully remain empty today, he had told his apprentices, [member="Thesh"] and [member="Nilia Saavilin"], to stay inside while he dealt with some ‘business’; he only hoped they listened should he truly lose. It couldn’t be predicted what the Sith would do if they knew of them, either kill or take them from him; setting him back to square one.

Still, he had no intentions of a defeat today; as he had trained himself for weeks in preparation. Morrow may have been twice the warrior he was, once, but today she would find herself an opponent that lacked the raw strength she did, but the capacity for greatness few held. With everything to lose, Maliphant left the armor that grounded and restricted his force powers within his home; choosing instead to take a very light leather article that he had yet to alchemize, though hoped he would soon.

All it was now was a waiting game, for Morrow to show up. She had her directions, she knew what Maliphant had sent, he only hoped she’d be off her game. It wasn’t everyday Maliphant chose to fight the Emperor’s apprentice in an honor duel, but he would be damned if he’d of made an uncalculated risk.

 

[Darth Morrow]

"This man much be clearly mad. Id like you two to keep a close eye on how I handle this fight. When one seeks a following you cannot destroy your opponent entirely, it is more about stripping them of power. Showing them you are superior. That being said, this fight shouldn't be more than a few moments."

Darth Morrow walked in before her two apprentices, [member="Karliah"] and the other she had even yet to learn the name from, it was pointless until her proving. Staring ahead to the battlefield acres from her own parked travel ship, the porcelain woman locked her burning eyes on the man as her smoldering presence soaked into the area. The same calm breeze that tousled Maliphant's hair didn't dare to touch Morrow, her hair and robes completely still as she moved. The body specifically designed for her use would finally get a purpose, the genetically enhanced strength and dexterity would serve as another added bonus, one the man stood not a chance against.

Motioning her apprentices to the stands she stepped into the arena watching the appearance of the one before her. She never forgot a face, and his came to mind clear as day. The weak slave. "Are you sure you'd like to do this worm. I near killed you before. But I've killed even Lords since." The threat came from an ever calming and pleasant voice, yet one that held such power. Viewing herself the man may see the three sabers against her robe and the plentiful amount of knives besides them. It was like the day they first fought. "Imperia knelt before me. Let's see if you are as intelligent."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Maliphant watched as the distant ship landed, eyeing the trio as they walked to his arena. Two of them were minor in every sense, mediocrity to be trained, reminding him faintly of his own apprentices. Their presence here would be little distraction from the true goal, dragging his attention to Morrow. There was a faint beauty about her, and and even more imposing will to kill; enticing and foreboding in every step. How curious.

As the Sith maid her way into the arena and motioned her apprentices to the stands, Maliphant slowly lifted himself just high enough to stand, letting his feet touch earth with not even the slightest of disturbance. Dirt served to support, and it would do so with no qualms to Maliphant, who idled a few steps forward as Morrow chose to speak;

“Are you sure you’d like to do this worm. I near killed you before. But I’ve killed Lords since.”

Before?

Maliphant took on a crooked smile, simply shaking his head as he turned his gaze to the Sith before him. Golden orbs of a piercing intensity glazed over her as the silver words of a man built for speeches spoke;

“You must have me confused. You see, I’ve never been beaten, and certainly not by you.”

Morrow wasn’t aware, but the man before her was not the same as the man she once fought, everything from his demeanor to his mannerisms were changed, and within he did not hold the same darkness. At least, no so fully. Her sensation in the force was strong, just a glance would tell her what lay within his heart;

Where most Sith carried their own darkness, Maliphant carried four. A quadrumvirate of pressure that ranged from the sad and downtrodden, that which saw itself a victim to circumstance beneath the surface but held tight by metaphysical shackles; to the more destructive pressure of an artifact she was likely not familiar with. As Maliphant slowly released the pressure he held in during meditation began to wash over the land like a star in its final stages of life, growing and expanding, threatening to consume the arena as a whole.

What radiated off Maliphant was not the aura of a Sith Lord, but the intent of a beast. The sickening sensation of all that was wrong with the world, and it dragged itself across Morrow’s skin like that of ravenous man who knew no boundaries. It stung, its very touch a painful reminder of whatever it was the man held, and yet somewhere beyond that it stunk.

The smell was Death.

Yet despite all of this, despite the way his aura moved around the arena on its own, how autonomous and encompassing his pressure was, Maliphant didn’t move far from that of his stance, a single lightsaber in his own palm. His posture was collected, calm and not unlike that of Morrow herself, yet the smell of the air, the sensations given off by the beating black heart that resided within were tremendous; yet he showed no signs of reaction to them.

Was Maliphant even aware of what was within him, or who he was?

The calmness in her voice was not unheard of when considering the confidence most Sith carried with them, even when challenged. Surely she carried with her a pressure, a presence that chose to intimidate and coax; yet Maliphant was not a man so simply enslaved, that he knew such of. Perhaps is Carnifex himself told him to kneel, he would have, but Morrow was not his Emperor, and she was nothing but a goal.

“Imperia knelt before me. Let’s see if you are as intelligent.”

“I take that with resentment, you know.”, he said as he saluted with a small flourish of his seemingly unignited lightsaber.

“And here I invited you for an honorable duel, and you choose to insult me. A shame, really.”, he said with a wink.

For a moment, he walked in a semicircle. The distance between them was moderate, and the robotic overseer watching over counted the seconds off in its clock before it raised a hand. The refinement of its Imperial programmed tone called out to the two;

“Begin!”

In a sudden rush, Maliphant charged forward, lightsaber in front of him in low guard. Matched by his sprint was the sudden intensity his expression took, apathetic and calculating not unlike that of Morrow herself. The blade he carried however was not ignited; not visible, a possible sign the man intended to use a complex display of Trakata? It’d be folly to charge an opponent with an unlit blade, and yet he did so with so much as a murderous intent in his vision.

Maliphant was sure of his strike.

The man rushed forward, dust picking up in his wake as he lept high into the air, coming down with the force of a rancor in a downward strike that threatened to take Morrow in a single blow; yet it was not the only danger to appear in those careful moments. Somewhere in the time it took the man to sprint and jump, an exact doppleganger of Maliphant had appeared behind him, with the exact expression and nuances as the original, only it came with the same lowguard as before, coming upwards in a swinging strike.

All at once, the man had doubled, coming from opposite directions. It was done in an instant, and the danger carried with it was immense. Perhaps, despite all of Morrow’s preconceived notions, she actually had a run for her money.


[member="Darth Morrow"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

Morrow cracked a crooked smile, within moments her sabers called to hand, the third remaining on her belt. The thoughts of all her training came to mind, the many times Carnifex smashed her down, and the many times she finally stood challenge, the man before her was no match to either of them.

Without even making a large effort to move, the clash was heard as the saber crashed against Morrow's holding guard. With flaring dark eyes she'd almost stare into his very soul, the pupilless burning pits of coals digging into his being, and then the third saber would come in for a swing. From behind him the third saber would make a strong downward slash, held aloft by the force of her own will power and fueled by her ever stirring anger.

"You have much to learn, let me spare you the shame, perhaps you allow me to teach you what I have learned. I'm sure you'd rather spare yourself the dishonor of losing."

While his focus may have been taken from the saber behind, or the smooth and calming yet malice filled voice, another strike was already in progress. The two sabers in her hands snapped together at the hilt and a formulated attack was launched. grabbing onto it with her left hand, she feinted a swing to his right side, meanwhile her first came barreling towards his stomach.

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Both strikes were stopped, the flaring of the lightsaber against the invisible nature of the blade making any wide arcing strikes null in the face of the strong defense; the triple saber entente enough to decimate the first illusion with a strike to the back that saw it fade into nothingness, though the second strike met the face of the lightsaber in a diverting strike similar to Makashi, though with notable hints of defense from the likes of Shien. It was quick, efficient, and enough to hold off the likes of a saber staff.

Maliphant was no fool however, knowing full and well that the combined combat training Morrow had beneath the emperor would outscale him in direct power; forcing him to think outside the box. He already knew she was likely to be an experienced user in styles such as Djem So, and just the glance of the blow he met with his own lightsaber was enough to tell him he couldn’t compare with her strength physically; so he transitioned his style to compensate.

The Emperor had been killed twice, and while his attention wasn’t to end Morrow’s, he knew there was a limit to anyone’s prowess. Even the Emperor's apprentice.

“If you’d like to have some private study sessions, I’m more than willing-”, he said as he transitioned into a Niman stance.

Hanging from his hip was the stringed up skull of a long dead Sith Lord, a nexus bouncing on his hip being drawn in its entirety into his body; something he took many experiences from, and a boon even now as its life experiences helped feed into his fighting style, even holding the teachings and fighting style of a previous apprentice to Carnifex, Lord Pyrrhus. The totality of it was one of his only advantages in the fight;

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”, ending it with a flourish.

The force reached out in his off hand, ripping through sheer telekinetic force the floating lightsaber that flung near his back, in the efforts to move it into his palm; unignited to ensure his safety. The opposite hand however, that which held the lighstaber with no visible blade, drew force energy from Morrow herself through the draining nature of its body, pulling more than just the force from her but everything that powered her, molding, redirecting, and pressuring it back in a horrid reflection.

Snap.

Air rushed to fill the vacuum near Morrow’s stomach as air was pushed violently towards her, easily enough to throw even the largest Epicanthix back meters from their standing position; enough force to snap ribs and rupture organs if one wasn’t careful. This was the combined efforts of not only Maliphant and a strong foundation in telekinesis, but the amplified nature of the nexus on his hip and near lifetime the Sith Lord now empowering him had spent perfecting it.


[member="Darth Morrow"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

"If you ask nicely."

The air made a screeching sound as sand was flung to the sky, the force stopped dead in its tracks as Morrow held aloft a hand. What should have sent the woman flying was deflected by some unknown power, perhaps even her own usage of telekinesis. The months spent training under Carnifex were quite a challenge indeed, so much so that for awhile he thought he had beaten the spirit out of her. What he had really done was light the fire that burned in the woman's eyes. There were moments she had even doubted herself, though every obstruction placed before her was merely fodder to flame.

"You may have some artifact, or whatever it might be strapped to you-" Morrow started circling like a tiger stalking prey, her smoldering eyes focused on the target before her, eyeing every movement, waiting to make the kill. "Though what you lack is skill of your own. Your power is not yours. You do not control it, hold it in your core. You may be fueled by anger, hate, but is it really all yours? The power you hold comes from another source. I could teach you to make it yours. You would never need silly tools again, really, they simply constrain you."

Releasing her sabers they would return to her belt on their own, floating quickly into the holsters around her robe. "I have stolen abilities and knowledge from those far superior to either of us prior. Now I hold their place. Now they remain merely bait in a sea of sharks, of course, us, we don't deserve to be bait do we?" Her voice held a certain sweetness to it, an attractiveness that couldn't be denied, a small smile tugged at the end of her dark lips as she paused, resting eyes on the man before her.

"Is this dual really necessary, you don't have to prove anything to me. I can already see your value. You simply have to hone it, and I can help."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

As Maliphant held Morrow’s third lightsaber, that which had struck at his rear, he stood calm for a moment letting either of the lightsabers he now held fall to his side; cracking his neck with a twist of his head, he settled back on Morrow, his gaze as threatening as it had always been, but for a different reason now. Maliphant didn’t hold the straight combat prowess Morrow did, but there was a superiority in it as Morrow herself fell from combat and watched him;

“A show of force only means as much as much as you make it, and my intention was to gain your respect. I’m glad you’re catching on.”, he said with a wink.

As he spoke, he tossed the lightsaber in a light lob, arcing towards her form with some accuracy before exhaling something slow, withheld. It was true he never expected to win, but there was a joy in already finding common ground; his goal all along it would seem. Wiping a few alabaster strands from his brow, he cracked a thin smile to the almost sickly sweetness of her voice, drawing him in only faintly.

“In truth, it was my intention all along; and I’m more than willing to learn something from you, in exchange for amiability between us.”, he chuckled, brushing away a few singes of leather from his shoulder.

“Would you like something to drink, Darth Morrow?”, he said as the smug, gaunt features he offered glanced towards her.


[member="Darth Morrow"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

The woman scoffed in her own mind as the man considered himself in any way possible superior to her own ability. Morrow had fought through life and death, crawled her way from the brink of destruction, held the ability to change her shape at will and stood challenge to the Emperor himself. She was one of the finest examples the empire had to offer, and Maliphant considered himself even close to a challenge. She held back simply for the reason, a goddess needed faithful servants, nothing would be earned from destroying him. However, should he cross him, that was another story, Morrow wouldn't hesitate.

"Catching on, I don't believe you understand the purpose, however, think what you wish." With the drop of the saber, it flew to her hand at an incredible speed without a chance to touch the ground, examining the hilt for but a moment she placed it back in her belt. Her dark eyes peered back to the man before her, the same immanent fear ever so present, along with an analytic stare.

"The nature of the Sith is the history of lack of amiability. We are not friends, nor have any of us ever been. We simply use one another as long as the benefit is mutual, as long is something it to be gained. At every moment you risk the other stabbing you in the back, stealing what is yours, claiming it for their own. Take that first lesson to heart. There is no real thing as amiability. There is only power and gain." As she said this, Maliphant would notice her eyes go from orange to crimson red, then back.

"We can always talk more about a mutual gain between us, though I'm not quite sure what you could offer."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Maliphant twirled his own lightsaber before resting it back on a small clip on his band; idling for a moment to check his clothing for any damage. A few leather pieces were singed, taking away the durability of the outfit as a whole; but not enough to harm him directly, a moderately close result all things considered. Brushing some of the ash again, he walked towards the entrance to the facility that was his home; motioning for Morrow to follow;

“While I no doubt agree that most Sith prefer the ‘betrayal’ route, I prefer something more simplistic. I will do no harm to you, so long as you do no harm to me.”, he said with an idle fancy, “Believe it or not, it works well.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t really care if Morrow believed him or not.

“In truth however, I think you’re letting what you’ve gained from your apprenticeship under The Emperor to blind you.”, Maliphant said as his hands danced across the control panel to the arena.

The door in front of them opened, leading to a small tunnel that spanned downwards to a prepping area where a number of lockers, showers, and training rooms branched off in any direction. He avoided them however, choosing instead to walk past; giving them only the softest of glances. His voice spoke out once more, now with the faint chill of the room brushing against both of their exposed skin, a stark contrast to the warmth they had just felt beneath the sun.

“I have no doubt you’re strong, Darth Morrow, I just witnessed a pittance of that myself, but you hardly compare to the real strength of many Sith Lords.”, he said once more.

“Imperia was weak, I’ve read about her. Kicked from the underworld, killed by her own apprentice, forsaken by all she had attempted to do…”

“While great for one such as us, it is certainly nothing to brag about. Many of her constituents didn’t even regard her as a Sith Lord; mind you.”, he said as he glanced back to Morrow, taking in her features for a moment before the next of the doors opened to his presence, leading to a far more open living space with a minimalist take on luxury, a bright interior of white and modern art deco architecture.

A human replica droid quickly moved to meet Maliphant, her soft features mimicking that of a human almost perfectly, somewhere in her early twenties. What betrayed her however, was the soft mechanical whirring in her less than organic eyes, focusing on Morrow and memorizing her features before turning back to Maliphant;

“Is there something I can get you, Sir?”, she asked as only a waif could.

“Water, if you would. And anything my guest would like as well.”, he said once more.

“As I was saying, I’ve no doubt you know much, seen much; but you aren’t great, not yet. Unlike most Sith, I’d say what I have to offer is potential-”, Maliphant spoke as he moved to remove the singed leather robes, and replace it with something far more loose fitting. For a moment, it revealed a body not unlike her own, well sculpted for war, though what she likely would see is a starch difference to the man she once fought.

This one carried no scars, no semblance of abuse. He was but a man with no wounds; none to show at least.

“Something we have in common. I’ve already the plans in motion to collect some of the greatest artifacts in the galaxy, for training purposes, with the infrastructure to back an ascent to power. Many cartels in the galaxy abide by my deals, though not all, and those who don’t work with me to achieve my goals for credits. I command, and they respond; for the sake of my future.”

“If you’re willing, you could be apart of that.”, he said with a smile as he moved to sit.

“As an ally, Darth Morrow. Perhaps as a friend.”

[member="Darth Morrow"]

 

[Darth Morrow]

"A friend." The woman scoffed quietly beside him. "You know what friends get you my dear? Dead, you place your trust in another and they have the advantage."

Morrow replayed the times of her childhood through her mind, the many times she had been beat down and near murdered by those who seemed close, all for nothing but rank in the tribe. The Sith mindset was the goal to climb in power, many wouldn't hesitate a moment before destroying peers and taking what they desired, her among them.

"I wonder what turned your mind so soft and trusting, something you'll have to work on. Else this scheme will not last very long." Blatantly she ignored the droid as she continued on, it was of little matter to her anyways.

"My apprenticeship with the Emperor has showed me nothing but incite into how this galaxy works. Nothing has corrupted or blinded me, I simply see more than I had years prior. But let me say this. If you drop this caring, 'oh Im here to make friends' act, I will help you. Not as a friend, not as an ally, though as a fellow knight seeking ascension."

[member="Darth Maliphant"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

“Despite what you might think, nothing has my me soft, nor trusting.”, he said as he finally moved to sit, now adorned in clothing far less combat orientated.

“I simply realize the dynamics of loyalty; its good to hold allies in a limbo of love and hate, it makes them doubly afraid of betrayal.”, he said with a somewhat coy smile, an obviously knowing grin that seemed to point at the direction of his intentions.

“More importantly, if you seek a mutual relationship for the sake of power, than I can abide; I see no problem with a strictly professional if it is indeed what you prefer.”, The Sith said as the robot finally brought him back the glass of water he had asked for.

He sipped it slowly before setting it down on the coffee table, humming idly before resting his chin in his hand, his finger riding up to his cheekbone as he studied Morrow once more. It was true that she had likely suffered, far more than Maliphant realized he had, but the truth of the matter was how deep his Machiavellian’s principles actually went, and how cruel that truly made him. Despite a somewhat friendly appearance, and reasonable ‘softness’, the man had not hesitated to strike out at Morrow with the intent to kill, nor showed any fear of the Knight despite what she carried.

If nothing else, he knew his stance on social manipulation; even if Morrow did not.

[member="Darth Morrow"]