Private The Raucous Sands

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

A hand pulled the head cover tighter as the winds continued to buffet her with the sands of Korriban, a grimace on the face of it's lonely patron. The Sith could have chosen a better planet to call their homeworld, the miserable pale dot amongst the stars appealed very little to the Echani and yet there was a reason for her to be hear.

Before her awakening, the Empire had fought against the Sith, and a charge of their Order sought to destroy their superweapon. The tale had been regarded to her by her mistress, Quinn Varanin, and in it had been a character of some significance.

Hasuras Na-Gerra.

Some boisterous mountain of a Sith by all accounts, yet one that didn't fall under the Sith Order. He had been an ally to the Princess of Eshan during the battle on the Death Star III, but that friendship was far from guaranteed. The fact that he was a pirate did little to quell the Echani's worry that he may play a threat to the sanctity that Quinn hoped to create in the Sith Order, yet it was in his territory that she found herself.

This was to be a social call, first and foremost. A meeting between two of their kind for a simple introduction and pleasantries. At least the message she had sent forward proclaimed it as such, though she came without any offerings.

Appeasing the ego of such a figure may have been the best way to go, but not conducive for what she had in mind. The reality of this meeting was a test. To discover just how enslaved by his whims the Sith Lord truly was, and if the fire of Vahl may ever scorch her charge.

A sandstone temple greeted her against the dreary background of a sand torn planet, it's grandeur painting it beautifully against the pale background in a way it's colour did not. Her eyes failed to see the top as the sandstorm raged, but that mattered little compared to it's entrance. She would not wait to be greeted before making entrance herself, pulling down the sandstained cloak as trusses of white hair hung messily in front of her face.

"I am here to see the Lord of Korriban, tell your liege to not keep me waiting."

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

A ragged looking corsair leaned against the wall of the temple. She had an unsheathed Sith sword in scimitar style stuffed into a red sash and she picked at her fingernails with a dagger. She barely looked up as some horned queen walked up.

"Huh? Oh. You mean Gerra. Yeah. He's inside. Training in the courtyard."

She waved the dagger back behind her.

Past the atrium stood a wide enclosed courtyard, shielded by the sandstone of the temple from the glare of the system's star. In the courtyard, beside a weapons rack, Gerra squatted. The eight foot Vahlan held an orb of some dark metal with both arms and he held his squat. The orb was only a little larger than one of his fists, but sweat beaded the warlord's brow from the effort.

Eyes the color of embers swiveled to stare at Jorryn Fordyce as she entered. The Vahlan arched a brow.

"Yes?" the single word rumbled from him, a deep and rich bass.

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

The sand hopefully covered the sneer that crossed Jorryn's face as a knife casually pointed her in the direction she needed to go. It had hardly been the most impressive of greetings, some lowly brigand standing at the entrance of a temple dedicated to the Sith. She was never the defender of her faith, but something about this woman's presence felt sacrilegious.

She ignored the slight and moved past the woman without another word, deeming it beneath her to continue the discussion or give thanks. The woman didn't even have the proper respect to name her Lord by title.

A small thought crept along the edges of her mind about what kind of ship this Lord of the Sith was running where his soldiers named him so casually. Perhaps he wasn't the grand figure she had been led to believe.

That musing was shattered quickly as the Echani entered the courtyard, the sight of a titan catching her amber gaze before anything else.

Almost anything else.

Unintentionally, her eyes fell to the deepness of the man's squat, falling perhaps a touch too low. They averted themselves before the man noticed hopefully, meeting his fiery gaze with her own, arms folded across her chest as she regarded the man.

"Hasuras Na-Gerra, I presume?" The tone feigned disinterest as she spoke, curious if apathy would rouse the man from his exercise. "I would hope a Sith Lord have more security than yourself, as well as an interest in a good impression."

The words tempted provocation as much as her body language did, though the disinterest was feigned her lack of impression on his soldiers was not. She had been led to believe she would be talking to a true child of Vahla, not some behemoth of a man without any sense for grandeur.

But as her eyes crawled across the room, she managed to surmise his interests lay inwards. This was a temple for certain, though perhaps one dedicated to the man's form compared to his status. It had paid off, by the looks of him. A towering mass of a Sith, standing almost three foot taller than she did. Weapons lined the room in a grand display tapestries and painting might decorate any other.

A lip betrayed some interest as she caught upon weapons she didn't recognise, though once again obfuscated by her objection to the welcome she received.

Perhaps provoking the man would prove more interesting.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

“What need have I for the dithering thoughts of scheming waifs and their impressions?”

The Vahlan stood up, holding the orb close to his chest with one hand, the strain obvious in the way cords stood like ropes in his forearm. He wore only loose fitting trousers of red and cloth shoes. Hardly the effect most of the Sith put on, with their spiked armor and an overabundance of bone motifs.

“Who are you?” He rumbled with a frown, eyeing the horned woman up and down. She had the look of the Echani, but for her horns. A slim thing.

“I did not send for a girl.”

No, she was no common Sith. He felt a power in her unlike the average denizens of this place, where did but tarry while refitting his ships. She would like as not be cross with the remark. Little did he care. She opened dialogue with insult, so then let the batteries fly. Gerra cared little.

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

An unimpressed look crossed the brow of the Echani as a hand fell upon her cocked hip, staring daggers as the man compared her to a waif and a common harlot. The insults washed across the earth, breaking against her ears as her temper began to rise.

She allowed the gaze to rise up and down her figure unobscured, whatever barbarism infected this man at least hadn't deprived him of taste.

"If you were the kind of man that could summon a woman like myself, then I might have heard your name across the wind instead of whispers." Arrogance rolled off her tongue to meet Gerra's in equal measure, finding a match in the woman. She was not so diplomatic as to allow common insults. "If anything, I might call upon you to move my furniture and replace my seat with your hands and knees."

The imagery was meant to provoke more than threaten, truthfully she couldn't imagine even attempting to battle the creature in front of her. He stood five heads above her and his thighs measured a girth that could wrap around her waist, but there was more to conflict than force.

"I am the High Lady Jorryn Fordyce, handmaiden to the wayward Princess of Eshan, Quinn Varanin." The titles fell easily, not quite as long as most Sith appeared to enjoy. "I believe you are familiar, Consort?"

The Echani had clearly heard of the man's marriage to the Queen of Hapes, and no title of King would pour from her soft lips. Instead only poison rolled forth as she spoke, the earlier insult clearly affecting her more than hers had on the Vahla.

"I have come to take your measure, Lord, and to see what you represent here in the fringes of the Galaxy."

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

“Hmm,” he mused, no flicker of rage but rather mirth kindling in his eyes which shone like twin born suns. “No, I have not heard of thee.”

Gerra rolled a shoulder and tossed the metal orb up only to catch it again.

“But then I do not make purpose to learn the names of those who’d serve to fist the Crown Princess. Ah. Or was it the hand?”

An amused grin split the features of the shirtless Vahlan. Too long had it been since he’d had contest with words with one who did not look like a many horned Krayt. Though Jorryn was not the first to jest that she would claim him as some fashion of slave.

“Perhaps you seek too large a seat.”

He tossed her the orb with a flick of his arm. Fashioned of pure polished neuranium, it weighed half as much as Gerra despite its size.

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

The Echani watched as the man juggled his little trinket, and as the muscles strained upon catching it. Whatever the thing was, it had been heavier than it appeared.

"Handmaiden..." She chewed the words as her eyes flit back towards the man. "And I'll ensure you remember mine, for one reason or another."

Then the man tossed the orb towards her, but she didn't seek to amuse the man by trying to match his ability. Instead fingers barely lifted from her arm in an attempt to pause the ball, but its weight was even greater than she anticipated. She stepped out of it's path instead, allowing the orb to fall with a crash to the floor below.

"And what do you seek from tossing me a ball?" Her eyes stayed affixed to the orb, hiding the impressiveness at its weight in a glance away from the Vahla. "Did you expect some pet to go chase it? I am no more a mutt than you are a throne, My Lord."

As the expression cleared she turned back to the Vahlan warlord, an eyebrow cocked as she was curious what the gesture had meant.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

“And yet you bark so well.”

The Vahlan stared at her, lips split in a broad grin. For lo, she did amuse him. Most Sith and their prattling did, until it served more annoyance than mirth.

“Come, dispense with games. Have you no other purpose than to look upon me, little horned doggie?”

Gerra chuckled and his laughter was a booming thing. He spread his hands, arms wide.

“Here am I.”

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

Amber eyes lit up as the insult hit the Echani in her chest, shoulders raising as she almost failed to control her response towards the man.

"It takes a fellow dog to listen to the barking of another."

This time, a hand would raise towards the felled orb, not underestimating the weight of the thing. Strain would be seen in her face as she struggled somewhat to lift it before launching it in the Vahla's direction.

"If you had ears that bothered listening, you may have heard me say I was here to take your measure." She stepped towards the hulking man as his arms spread, revealing the muscles that had taken decades to form. A part of her admitted their appeal. "So then show me beast, show me exactly what the rumours I have been hearing so much about."

The robes she wore slipped away from her shoulders, revealing a cropped top as well as sparring slacks. More importantly than what she had been wearing were the red tattoos that ran along her skin, cutting into her arms and torso as well as her stomach.

And they glowed with rage.

She had come not only to test the man's rhetoric and strength, but her own as well. If she couldn't hold her own in a battle with this thing, then at the very least she would be able to understand the limits of this new flesh.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Metal slapped against meat as Gerra caught the orb in the palm of one hand.

“Hmm, I am no tamed canine to perform tricks on command,” spake Gerra, though his eyes did rove over the woman’s body, now devoid of concealing robe.

He found her figure lean and fit and marked by red tattoos whose end and beginning left him intrigued. An eyebrow rose, then lowered in a frown.

“You seek to tumble about on the ground by way of greeting? What manner of Sith are you? More like to a Mandalorian.”

But Gerra shrugged and continued on, “No matter. Come then, tussle if thou will it.”

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

Once again, the Echani allowed for the eyes of the Vahla to roam across her figure, not ashamed nor seeking to hide her appearance.

If anything, she considered that there may be a hint of good taste in the man.

Then came the frown, and with it the Echani's temper began to boil. Clearly he had none. Her hands stretched forward as she continued to stare the man down, knuckles popping in their sockets as she loosened her joints before falling in front of her in a traditional pose.

"Don't dare to compare me to someone so barbaric, they seem more akin to you." The comparison to a Mandalorian boiled her already racing blood, a small churning of her stomach as the words landed. "I am an Echani, and you seem good enough practice for this body."

A hand lifted to use the force on the ball that lay still in the hands of the Vahla giant, pulling his arm outwards from where it lay in front of him to create an opening for her to land the first strike. And with it, the Echani stepped forward rapidly to close the space between the pair.

The enhanced movement the reddened marks upon her skin gave her increased both her speed and strength, though the latter was still presumably no match for the giant. Dexterity would be her advantage in this battle, and taking his away.

A palm would dive towards the man's shoulder, seeking to deprive him of fine motion in his left arm as it struck the joint. The force behind it was more than a body such as hers would be able to deliver, but hopefully the man was arrogant enough to ignore his senses.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

An unseen force yanked the orb and his arm forward and he glanced at it, before releasing the neuranium to let it zip off, propelled by the Force to thud into the wall and then roll across the sandstone, shattered chips peppering the ground.

The diminutive Echani stepped forward with speed enhanced and struck him full in the shoulder with her palm, stretching far to reach so high. Gerra felt the muscles in his arm go limp and slovenly and his arm hung as a foreign thing attached to his body. Pain flared, but it was a passing thing.

She struck at his body for she judged him by his form, thinking his talents all lay in barbaric displays of strength.

Gerra let out a grunt.

“Is that all you can muster for your bite, little mutt?”

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

The palm strike worked, and amber eyes looked at the now limp limb with a curiosity. Perhaps she had overestimated the man in front of her indeed, this may not be the test she was hoping for.

"Why? Do you craves my fangs so badly?"

A smirk took her lips, though she carried a short caution in her movements. Gerra made no move to strike back, and there appeared no reason for such an action. Perhaps he felt like a wounded animal, but judging by his words that seemed unlikely.

She wouldn't be able to tell with words alone.

This time she aimed to bring the giant low, Jorryn's left foot brought towards the inside of the man's right knee, seeking to take away the difference in size between the pair. It came swiftly, dragging against the mat below for a touch as she turned her hips with the strike, bringing the full force of her strength behind it.

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

The kick came at the inside of the knee, fast and hard. Gerra simply raised his leg to block it with his shin, meat and bone crashed against meat and bone, but here again came the vast difference in size and bone and bone density. For as her leg collided with all of her force, the collision with the unyielding surface of his shin against her swung leg might be enough to snap her limb and leave it flopping about his shin, utterly shattered.

Gerra snorted and reached out with both arms, though one was quite numb, seeking to wrap her up in a crushing embrace. If her foot was shattered then there would surely be no escape. But even with an uninjured leg, escape seemed a dim prospect. He sought to squeeze, muscles rippling and contorting as he bent every sinew to force out the very air from her lungs.

Jorryn Fordyce

 

[Jorryn Fordyce]

// Lady Jorryn Fordyce //
// Objective // Investigate //
// Focus // // Hasuras Na-Gerra //

---

---

As her foot met the meat of the man's calf, Jorryn could have swore she swung the appendage into durasteel. Pain ran through the limb, though she wouldn't have enough time to appreciate the severity of such an injury. She had drawn too close to the giant, and without crippling his advantage, she was left with little choice

A shock of pain came from the limb as she pressed it against the leg of Gerra, pushing herself away from him as she jerked backwards. It was enough to escape her rips being crushed between his arms, but the size covered enough of the distance to grab her already injured legs. A yelp of pain escaped her lips as she attempted to kick free, the limp barely resisting being snapped outright as the free leg shot towards Gerra's face.

Her stance had collapsed as her footing was taking into Gerra's arms, hands folding in front of her face to glance any strikes that might come.