Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Tracing the Treacherous [Sabastian Bane]

Betrayal lay in the heart of the Sith. Their power, their philosophy, the very foundation of their culture took treason to its' stone heart. If you were strong enough to justify it, then you could fell the Dark Lord himself and assume his place. Only by strength would the Galaxy be governed. However, in the wake of this, the strong would yield weak pretenders. There were those who could simply not compete and sought refuge in the vastness of space.

Such pretenders could not be allowed to persist.

Darth Ophidia, Reach of the Dark Lord, was hunting down one such traitor. In the wake of the war, the trail had grown cold. However, she had received a lead on the rogue's supposed apprentice. Somehow, the two had become separated. Some proposed that the apprentice had run away.

The apprentice proved far easier to track, and the Pale Assassin traced one [member="Sabastian Bane"] to the planet of Entralla in the far Outer Rim. Supposedly, Sabastian had come through a small spaceport and ventured into the wilds. The price of the information had cost her, but her agents would propose an ultimatum for the informant later: Serve or die.

The Rattataki packed her swoopbike with rations and set out in search, only the Force and what information a handful of credits could buy as her guide. She felt confident.
 
Sabastian, after having hidden his starship, had trecked deep into the wilds. He eventually made himself a small temporary home within a deep cave, roughly two days journey from the starport. It boasted little in the ways of creature comforts, but provided the essentials for life, aswell as the ability to hone one's skills through the hunting and other talents needed for one's survival. It was a living that suited Sabastian, even though he felt the occasional longing for his old life, a simpler time. Free of paranoia, of fear, of umcomfortable holes in the ground serving as a home. But he would perservere, he had to, as He'd sacrificed far too much already to go back.

It was during the evening on Entralla when he felt it, a shadow, still far off but drawing nearer at an alarming rate. "It seems they've found me...." He mused out loud, as he looked over to his equipment. Now was the time to make a stand. He stood up from his seat overlooking the approach and girded himself in his armor. An armored undersuit of cortosis weave, with a dark robe over it. With a pair of reliable boots, and old mandalorian neo crusader gauntlets. It was now or never.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
Darth Ophidia's swoopbike was not quiet, it cleaved through the air with a ferocious howl, which echoed through the landscape. The echoes made her location fairly difficult to pinpoint while the seemingly omnipresent howl heralded her arrival. The Sith Lord's clothes flapped around her form as she squeezed down against the body of her transportation. Trees flew by as she probed out into the wilds, prying through the Force to find the one she wished to capture. Suddenly, something pinged. It felt to her like a small tingle, and her head snapped over in the direction whence she had felt it.

The swoopbike came to a stop, turning in a semi-circle as she put her foot down. The metal body settled on the overgrown ground, crushing foliage underneath its' mass. A gloved hand reached up to her helmet and touched its side, pressing a barely visible button with her middle finger. In response, the visor of her helmet opened and exposed her pale face to the elements.

Her cold, grey eyes scanned the surroundings swiftly as she stepped off the swoop in a single elegant motion. Her footsteps made not a sound, even in the foliage. Her entire body adopted the demeanour of a predator as her head turned back and forth, taking in the surroundings. She reached out, sensing for what had halted her.

[member="Sabastian Bane"]
 
The time to hide was over, and Sabastian did not try to mask his presence. In fact he did the opposite, practically broadcasting himself for all that could sense him to hear. He stood atop the hill and waited, no need to expend energy before the battle even began. He knelt down, centering himself, letting the anger and hatred slowly build up inside him as he waited for the dark presence to come nearer. When he felt it within the edge of the clearing that sorrounded the climb to the hill his eyes snapped up. He stood up , and brushed the dust off of his knees, before he ignited his lightsaber.

"I would have your name, Before I take you head" He called out, his opponent may not be visible yet, but certainly within earshot

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
Darth Ophidia moved closer to the source of her 'ping'. It broadcasted itself, calling out for her attention and beckoning her towards it. Ophidia stalked it to the foot of the hill; her feet still making hardly a sound. Her dark robes seemed to blend into the shadows as she passed quietly through the underbush on soft soles and practised steps. She reached the bottom of the hill and heard his words. The visor of her helmet made a small noise as it slid back in front of her face. Her hands folded over her sash as she stepped out and into the clear.

Her head turned up towards Sabastian casually, her hands remained folded on her midriff, covering the lightsabre tucked into her sash. Other than that, she appeared unarmed. The beskar plates of her armour shone dimly, barely lighter in colour than her robes. She did not speak, nor make any rash action. However, there was a challenge in her stillness and the visor, staring blankly at the challenger's form. She would give no name, no courtesy. If he wanted her head then he would have to come claim it, like a Sith.

[member="Sabastian Bane"]
 
Sabastian leapt forward off of the hill, spinning twice in midair before landing on his feet, a small shockwave of power pushing outwards from where he landed. A battle could be fot in many ways, but there were certain methods Sabastian favored. Calling upon the force he used an ancient and cruel technique, connecting his mind to her's violently through the force. The technique was called Torture by Chagrin by some, The Memory walk by others. The cruel part of it lay in the fact that using the force the instigator would pry into his opponent's mind, dredging up their deepest fears and failures, making them live through. The memories were so intense as to cause actual physical pain to the subject, it was a subtle yet sadistic tool, which was why Sabastian loved it.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
The moment Sabastian jumped, he had made his second mistake of the day. Even with his fancy flips, his areal trajectory was fixed, and with nothing but a glance she could tell just where. About mid-air Ophidia's hand lashed out towards him like the bite of a serpent. Her hand swiped to the right, sending a wave of telekinetic Force to smack Sabastian aside and to the ground like a bothersome insect. She was a practised Sith Lord with much experience in the use of offensive telekinesis. Even with the causal flick of her wrist, her technique was considerably powerful and dangerously accurate.

She had no intention to allow him enough quarter to begin any advanced techniques he may have picked up from his disgraced master. Her attack would be relentless, seamless, and most importantly; merciless.

[member="Sabastian Bane"]
 
Sabastian hit the ground hard, and from the sickening crack he knew he'd broken atleast one of his ribs , a flare of pain shot through him...Perhaps more than just one. He knew from this point he was outmatched, but he'd be damned if that was supposed to motivate him to quit. He manipulated the force around himself, increasing his already impressive reflexes. He would need every nanosecond he could purchase in order to even stand a chance of surviving against this foe. He rushed toward her now, doing his best to stay clear of her telekinetic attacks..If he could just get close enough to strike, he may stand a chance, however slim it may be

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
As he landed heavily, her hands returned to her midsection and her helmet turned to the man as he came once again at her. No attacks of the Force came this time, but her feet settled into the dirt and her body shifted its position. The fingers of her right drummed idly on the back of her left as she waited for his approach, seemingly stagnant. Her hands rested on the hilt of her lightsabre, ready to slip it out and thump that activation button whenever she needed it.

Internally, she bolstered her body with the Force. Similarly to Sabastian, she was increasing her speed and reflexes, but only by a little bit. She preserved her energy, knowing there could well be a fight beyond this mere scrub.
 
Sabastian opened with a rapid series of strikes, channeling all his anger, hatred, pain, resentment, fear...Every dark emotion avaidable to him. His attack were relentless, using both sides of the double bladed lightsaber to constantly keep her on the defensive, trying to keep her from being able to use the force against him, as she was clearly far his superior within those skills.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
The moment Sabastian came within range, Ophidia's hands moved. Her lightsabre slipped into her right palm, but did not activate as she parried the flurried strikes with her vambraces. No great malevolent emotions emanated from her as she had no need to utilise them just yet. Rather, a chuckle arose from her throat and escaped her helmet, severely warped by the audio system installed in it to disguise her voice.

Whenever she blocked one of his strikes with her armour, she directed the emitter of her lightsabre at Sabastian, but did not activate. So far, she was just playing with him, demonstrating, mocking him. She had fought his kind and his weapon before. As long as she kept track of one blade, she knew where the other would end up. As for fast-paced fighters? She had made a habit of beating her apprentices into submission on several occations. [member="Lord Mythos"] was one such, and could still use a few disciplinary beatings.

[member="Sabastian Bane"]
 
It seems this one knew how effectively counter his lightsaber technique, to be fair he was little more than an amateur. There were however other ways a battle could be fought, in disciplines he had devoted many years of his life to mastering. He deactivated his saber and in one fluid movement while spinning to clip it to his belt he came around in a devastating uppercut, that would have easily killed a normal opponent. He was fighting within his element now, Teras-Kasi. But he wasn't idiotic enough to restrain himself to one discipline, he switched Rapidly between Teras-Kasi, K'Tara K'Thri , the sheer suprise of this sudden onslught out to have bought him an extra few seocnds at hte least.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]
 
There was just one problem with his 'surprise', this was exactly what she wanted of him. If she had wished to duel, then she would gave drawn her sabre. The way she saw it he would do one out of two things: Either he would continue to attack her with his blades, or he would do as she expected and try to break the pattern with hand-to-hand. It was a strategy she had employed herself to great effect. Before she had come to the One Sith, she had lived a life of blaster-fuelled strife and close-quarters violence. Combat was not just something in which she was trained, it was her nature. She no longer thought of disciplines, she simply acted in formless efficiency as the Force spoke to her.

When he clicked his sabre and brought his uppercut, she was indeed impressed by the speed of his switch. Rather than some elaborate counter-attack, she took half a step back and bowed. Her neck braced as she tucked in her chin and presented the forehead of her beskar-clad helmet to Sabastian's emerging fist. Her aim was to use its' superior hardness and internal padding to give Sabastian a harder surface than he expected, matching strength with strength and fist with Mandalorian iron.

[member="Sabastian Bane"]
 
Sabastian barely managed to avoid breaking his hand against the Mandalorian iron, taking a quick backstep without throwing himself off balance. This one spoke his language it seemed. He grinned, the day kept getting better and better. He kept himself in a counter-ready pose, letting her have the next move, such would be only fair afterall. Or atleast he gave the illusion thats what he was doing, because as soon as [member="Darth Ophidia"] moved to attack he would move his plan into action, coming at her with a brutal series of pinpoint accurate strikes to the 'weaker' (Relatively speaking) sections of the Assasin's armor
 
Fairness, akin with peace, was a lie. It was one of the "honourable" concepts the weak used to restrain the strong and keep them from utilising their full potential, and nothing more. She found that no Sith should adhere to such illusions, but take advantage of such weakness in others. The strong must rule and the weak must bow before their will. When her opponent stepped back, she stepped in while adopting a guarded position. She would take advantage of his retreat and keep close, keep him retreating. Her first attack was a feint. Her body got into position for a straight and hinted to a left low-kick as a follow-up. However, once her fist was in position, her weight shifted and her right knee thrust forward like a massive dagger at Safriel's midsection. She funnelled the Force through her body, empowering her strength and speed a little extra to make her attack a burst of sudden and unpredictable movement.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]
 
Safiriel's breath left her in a gasp of pain as her injured ribs were once again assaulted. She was far outmatched by this woman, in just about every possible regard. Her vision somehow managed to be both blurred, white and black, and tinted a painful red at the same time. Oh that wasn't good, she mumbled internally. She was also having trouble standing, and boy did the ground look so very inviting...So soft...and welcoming. She shook her head to clear it. Time enough to lay down and die afterward, she wasn't going down that easy. She pushed the pain to the back of her mind as best she could, though every movement caused a flare of pain which she couldn't ignore. She weakly attempted a feint. Far too slow, she criticized herself. She stumbled past [member="Darth Ophidia"] on a weak lunge, and fell to the floor apparently defeated. Atleast thats how her weakend body presented itself. She waited for the Sith to approach, her only chance was catching her by suprise. When the sith came closer she would spin around quickly and ignite her saber, hopefully slicing a bith of the sith lady off. Or she could sleep...she was on the ground already afterall
 
He, she, whatever it was, had not reacted well to the knee-lunge. What came next puzzled the Sith Lord as her opponent made some sort of movement she guessed was supposed to be a feint, and then lunged and fell over on the ground behind Ophidia. She cocked her head to the side, curious about this sudden change of pace. Her hands relaxed and returned to her midsection as before their close-quarters exchange.

Her right hand tightened around the curved hilt of her lightsabre as the left hand extended towards Safiriel. Telekinetically, she reached out to grab the back of his/her collar and lift the body into the air. Ophidia didn't like approaching fallen enemies that were not visibly eviscerated. Rather, she preferred to watch as she crushed them in the air. Of course, she required this one to live long enough to be interrogated. Information was, after all, her purpose here.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]
 
[member="Darth Ophidia"]

With what was left of her conscious mind Safiriel cursed herself for not foreseeing this. Her own saber fell limply from her grasp down to the floor, and with it most of her resistance. A slight groan of pain left her aswell as the force grip around her body was none too gentle. She had royally karked this up it seemed to her, she saw little ways of getting out of this, atleast, intact that was. She couldn't even summon enough will to try and break free of the Sith's grasp, let alone continue fighting.

"Finish it...Then unless....you mean to torture...me further" She growled, coughing up blood "But if you don't finish me now....I swear this...You will Live to regret it one day" A weak threat, but just about all the severely beaten human could muster at the time. Reflecting back on it later in life she might have said so much else. Even now it felt cliche to her
 
At first, there was silence, and then an odd, warped sound resonated from the helmet of the woman now telekinetically holding Safiriel's body aloft. It was difficult to distinguish, but one could soon identify it as a chuckle, and then a laugh. Her body shook a little, and the hold tightened as her fingers balled closer to a fist. Darth Ophidia found the thread downright funny. She had heard such words so many times, and she was fully aware that one day one of those she had "wronged" would act on their vow and take her down. However, that was the natural end of one such as her. She only hoped that her death would be spectacular.

"Swear what you wish; act on it if you will. You have information I need. Speak now, or I will pry it from your skull, along with your sanity"

Her voice was distorted, making impossible to recognise, however, the words crackled through clear as day, and her threat was more than real as she already now begun to apply a mental pressure to the would-be-Sith in her clutches.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]
 
[member="Darth Ophidia"]

She was going to atleast put up token resistance "Going to have ta...Do better than that..." She says, although her mind feels like it will literally fracture. "Aagh Dammit...Fine....I know many things.....What....information...are you looking for?" She eventually asked with labored breathing, her entire body ached, aswell as her mind. It was an altogether unpleasant sensation. Safiriel wasn't the greatest fighter, she had no allusions to grandeur, but still she felt as if there was something more she could have done. Another day she reminded herself, another day and she might have her revenge. It was a long game the world played, but eventually one would come out on top
 

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