This is Mine (Joycelyn v. Ronen)

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Kashyyyk. Singular sun, three moons, enormous trees and dangerous natives. It was not a planet traversed carelessly, nor without notice of its bestial inhabitants. However, it was not past the point of interest for the Ember of Vahl. There had been battles fought here. Jedi, Sith, countless beings of highest importance and the most minute insignificance had perished among the towering Wyrshyr trees.

Joycelyn Zambrano had finally been given the chance to investigate one of the older shrines erected after such an event. The local Wookies were quite protective of their sacred grounds, but her perseverance, persuasive arguments - and no short amount of credits. - had finally swayed them to give her leave of the forest. Two labour droids followed her, carrying water, medicine and supplies she would require for days in the dense forests. Her people, the Vahla, may be spacefarers, but Joyce spent many of her early years on her father's homeworld Panatha. There, although the trees were not as tall, the shrubbery was no less dense and the critters just as dangerous.

The trek carried her up along the mountains, sweat had soaked her dark-grey clothes. Yet, the tall, dark haired woman was far from fatigued, and very much on guard. They would soon encroach upon the shrine. There, she would make camp and begin searching for artefacts worthy of the Ember. Unless something stood in her way - or some one.

[member="Ronen Jerik"].

 

[Ronen Jerik]

Ronen had been so tired. After the fiasco on Kamino, and becoming an Imperial Templar, his more Jedi thoughts and beliefs had to be suppressed. He had received information from a broker of such things, that a collection of Artefacts lay deep in the forests of Kashyyyk, But he had to tread carefully where he was going. It was not uncommon for the ordinary man or women to be stuck in the forests, to eventually die of thirst or exposure. He decided to go in his old attire. His training robes he once wore training with his old friend Tydus, who had taught him much of the force. It had been so many years since then, and he had learnt so much, although now he had to hide his more Orthodox Jedi beliefs, as he did not think the sith would feel particularly good about that.

In any case, this was a great opportunity, it meant he could let his hair down, and practice more of the living force. He had reached Kashyyyk and decided to travel alone. Although he could of kept a guard or two. It was a long trek through the forest, although he could not see in the normal sense, everything around him felt so unreal. The smell of the greenery, blooming in the sunshine below the mountainous trees. The feel of the wind against his long hair, cold and soothing. And the Force. It seethed in the area he was entering.

He had almost reached the shrine when he, felt something... It was not friendly.

Not in the slightest.

It reminded him of the days when he was attacked at the Cantina on Coruscant. A purple, glowing force signature, large and overbearing.

"Hello?" He treaded sheepishly through the shrubbery,

"Who goes there?"

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

"Hello?" Joycelyn's attention perked. She halted her movement and crouched down in response to the call. "Who goes there?" With a motion of her left hand, she signalled the labour droids to remain. Meanwhile, her right hand wrapped itself around the hilt of her weapon. Crouched, she stalked closer to the source of the sound. She stopped just outside the shrubbery's breaking point before the holy grounds. Her brown eyes stalked every movement, but stealth was never her forte. Indeed, there was someone here. But friend or foe?

"I would ask the same."

After a moment's consideration, she stepped out into the open. Her hand lingered on her hip, and her eyes were cautious but holding great determination. She would not let anyone take away this chance.

"I am Elyn, of the Ember of Vahl."

Her accent was quite distinctively non-standard, typical for the space-faring migrant peoples of the galaxy. Joyce was tall and athletically built, towering a good head over the standard human. Her hair was dark and short-cropped with a singular braid tied around her head; her skin a dusky, sandy hue, not yet corrupted by the dark side of the Force. By her stance and the tone of her voice, she was of a choleric nature.

"Identify yourself, or I will have my men open fire on you."

A lie, but how would he know? Then again, she did not know if he was alone. She gambled upon his solitude, would he gamble upon hers? She would soon know.

[member="Ronen Jerik"]

 

[Ronen Jerik]

She sounded confident, and she sounded like a Sith. He had met few, but the ones he had met were some of the worst, and had shown him some skills which he thought he would never use. Probably. He could tell this person had probably never met a Miralukan before, let alone learnt their powers. But after he had retrained after his - less than happy - depressed years, he had learnt to heighten his force sight even more, even to the point where he could see non-force sensitive people. In any case, he could tell this sith did not have any Soldiers with her, she was trying to call his bluff, but he was going to be Coi, and play his cards.

"Is that fair given i am a blind man!" He shouted.

"Can't a man enjoy a stroll in the Forest? Or are you so blinded by your Vengeful training that you can't tell an enemy from a bystander, hmm?"

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

"I don't care if you're blind, deaf, limp, or neither. Show yourself."

She stepped further into the clearing. Her eyes narrowed and her left hand extended out before her as she tried to pin down this person's whereabouts. Inside, she could feel the spark of irritation that so readily could ignite her most vengeful fires. Not so rash, the priestesses had told her. The best pyre is built, not simply doused and lit. She gripped her passions with her will and wrought them into focus. There were no bypasses all the way up here. Even the hermits had abandoned it. No, here there was only unwanted attention.

"This is your last chance 'blind man'"

The hand that rested so close to her lightsabre now trailed back to the firearm fixed at the back of her hip and loosened it from its holster. A warmth spread down her arm - promise of a secret fire passed down through her priests.

She truly did not care if he was blind. She had seen too many great warriors overcome such petty flaws and come out magnificent. Kark, the priestess who had taught her of the secret fire was blind and poor of hearing. Yet, she commanded so much respect. No, Joycelyn was not so foolish as to make such basic mistakes.

"Three" She drew the Ripper and switched off its safety. "Two." With her hand still outstretched, she searched for him and coordinated with the aim of her weapon. "One." I see you.

[member="Ronen Jerik"]

 

[Ronen Jerik]

He could sense the weapon pointing towards him. He could tell it was lethal. If it hit him, it could take him out, or at least incapacitate him. He had learnt better from Tydus, if he was gonna fight, he was gonna Duel. He walked out of the shrubbery with his hands high. He made sure to hide his saber, and did not look at her directly.

"Hey. I understand i can't hide." He turned to her, the weapon still pointed towards him.

"Look. I'll talk true. I am a blind man, simply lost my way. I assure you. Look:" He rolled his blindfold off, to reveal two, grey, husks for eyes.

"Now. If you put the weapon do -"

Wait, if Ronen was blind how would he knew she had pointed a blaster?

He placed his hand on his saber beneath his robe.

This wasn't gonna be clean.


[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

As he stepped out she cupped her left hand under her pistol. He talked far too much for her taste. Or rather, he talked about the wrong things. Stalling for time? He could be waiting for someone. Or perhaps he wanted to talk her down. That would most certainly not be happening. Even if he was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time - well it must have been the will of Vahl that he should be slain by her.

Him taking off his blindfold did not quiet her. Rather, it put her further on edge. Blind, yet forceful; Joyce could sense that much about him. Such a combination did not lend itself to the weak. She would not underestimate him.

now if you put the weapon do-

Not happening. The moment he mentioned her weapon, the tall woman squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession. With each, a solid projectile was coated in plasma and magnetically launched. The SK2 Ripper was a notch above the average blaster; it was the once great One Sith's attempt at replicating Mandalorian weapons. When she fired, she purposely alternated the target of the bullet. The two first were fired at his chest region, however the third was aimed at his leg in an attempt at crippling him.

The Force welled up inside her for readiness. She doubted this person was weak enough to be taken down by a mere firearm. However, it was the weapon in her hand, then and there.

[member="Ronen Jerik"]

 

[Ronen Jerik]

Oh. Ronen had not counted on this happening, he had hoped to call her bluff and calm the situation. In any case, he had to act quickly before the odd weapons projectiles damaging his body. With a single stroke of his arm, the bright white saber ignited from the Metal hilt and Glowed with an ominous hum that filled the air. The saber shot to his middle, and deflected the two shots aimed for his body, both flying into opposite trees, an effect of his training with his master no doubt. He had taken care of the Sit-

"Ahh!" He grunted in sees-less agony, as the glowing red blast grazed the side of his knee, creating a severe gash across the side of his leg. It bled and screamed out in pain, as the red dripped from leg.

He was not having this... Not again. He would not be defeated by a sith. "Fight me fair, sith!" He pointed his Shining white saber at her, in an attempt to create a fair fight between two force users.

Then again, he couldn't count on her confidence...


[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Sith - There were those who would disagree. Sith by association, perhaps. Her name carried weight in such circles - and some envy. Still, she would never deny her connection to the dark side of the Force. It was passion that drove her. Vahl preached that the fires in their hearts should never be suppressed, but fuelled. And in her heart there was an inherited hatred that drew to it malice. So, perhaps she was Sith.

"This fight was never fair. Still, I accept."

She put the Ripper back in its holster and buttoned it to prevent anyone from snatching it from her. Her left hand balled into a fist as she felt the flow of deep-seated anger emerge from within.

Mother Vahl - Witness my wrath.

Her right hand went to the metallic cylinder at her side and un-clipped it. However, before it was activated, she lashed out with her left hand. From her lips escaped a shout of ire as she attempted to knock her opponent into one of the surrounding Worshyr trees. Immediately following it was the snap-hiss of an emerging blade as she sprung into bounds with a fell and furious swoop of her blade.

Perhaps to his surprise, it was not red. Rather, the plasma blade had a faded green hue.

[member="Ronen Jerik"]