Tracing the Treacherous [Sabastian Bane]

[Darth Ophidia]

Against the token resistance, Ophidia simply increased her mental pressure as a token invasion. To conserve her energy, she lowered Safiriel to the ground, a distance away from the dropped sabre-hilt. and dissipated her telekinetic hold. However, the mental pressure did not subside. She was confident that she could keep this cretin in check with her mentalism. Darth Ophidia was experienced in the art of dominating minds, having long used it to pry out information, control the minds of her victims, and shatter the sanity of the defiant.

"Your master, a traitor to the Dark Lord and his order of the One Sith, he is my quarry. I want his location, his plans, his friends. You have one chance to redeem yourself."

The assassin's right hand, holding the curved hilt of her lightsabre, directed the dangerous end of the inactive hilt at Safiriel as an active threat. Her thumb caressed the activation button, but no blade emerged from the cylinder.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

"He is my master no longer....Not since I've taken his arm. I can lead you to him....But I want a hand in his death" Safiriel growled, savoring the mental image of this as pain continued to wrack her mind and her comparatively more fragile body. She wasn't exactly in any position to bargain, but she might as well try. If she died in her quest for vengeance well so be it. She would take what she could get.

She pulled in panting breaths as her body tried to sort itself out somewhat, and prevent her from dying as best it could. Based on the fact she was conscious and still able to feel pain it was doing it's job a little too well.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Revenge

It was a lovely sentiment; one that had driven Sith and Dark Jedi into war for generations upon generations. The dark side of the Force thrived on such grounds, reaping the hatred that seethed of the fertile soil of vengeance. Through her mental grip, she investigated the person before her, looking for deception. It did cross her mind that it could be a ruse, a set-up. Could this one truly have taken the arm of a Lord? If so, was the Lord truly as splendid as she had assumed? She could not underestimate him now, but she found no deception. Had the apprentice been lucky? She believed in no such thing as luck, but perhaps the law of causality had brought them to this point for a reason.

The mental pressure subsided and behind her masked helmet, the Sith Lord smiled. She kept the weapon trained on Safiriel, still threatening, her left and extended out towards Safriel's deactivated hilt.

"I can give you your vengeance, if you swear your loyalty to the one he betrayed."

The hilt flew into her hand and she presented it to the person before her.

"We can give you the power you desire, if you are strong enough to claim it."

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

Safiriel slowly drew herself up to a kneel, she paused for only a second to gather herself, before she took the hilt, and rose to her feet "If that is what must be done for vengeance, so be it. But His death will have to be slow...and Painful " She said, wiping a hand across her mouth to clean it of blood as she stood up, forcing herself to not shake or waver, projecting as much strength as she had left into her stance.

"What is your bidding then?" She asked as she looked down at the somewhat shorter assassin across from her

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"Oh we do not spare the rod on traitors. You ought to keep that in mind."

The Assassin adopted something of a more relaxed body language, yet the emitter of her lightsabre pointed discretely at Safiriel's abdomen, and her thumb rested precariously close to the activation button. She showed no notable fear in the face of the taller acolyte. She had already shown that she could defeat her, and Ophidia was confident that the outcome of a new round would only turn more in favour as she had far more knowledge and ability in the Force she had not committed to the prior squabble.

Reaching behind her back with her left hand, she produced a reinforced datapad formerly fastened to the back of her armour. With a few taps of her fingers on the screen and buttons, she unlocked it.

"Information: Location, security, aliases, you name it. Give me every shred of information you have"

With a flick of her wrist, she turned the datapad and presented it to Safiriel.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

Safiriel considered exactly what she remembered as she began to type it out.

Location: Hoth, Exaclt Location unknown
Security: Fully manned with mercenaries, as well as his apprentices
Aliases: As far as I know he's only gone by Darth Decimus

She added in a rough sketch of the compound from what she remembered, including the location of the hanger and the generator room.

"This is all I have...I believe it should serve you well. When do we depart?" She asked, eager to engage in her old master's death

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Decimus, that was the one. In his arrogance, it would seem the Rogue Sith had forgotten a basic element of subterfuge: Don't give them your name. Names and aliases were powerful weapons; while they struck fear in ones opponent, they also left a trail to be followed. When hiding from one such as Darth Ophidia, one had best discard all old aliases. Unless, of course, he wanted to be found. As she surveyed the notes and sketch, she pondered the possibility that this traitor wanted to be found. Why else would he have left such an easy trail? It was either incompetence, or a ruse.

"We depart immediately. If you have anything you hold dear, say goodbye."

Quickly, the assassin turned her back on Safiriel. The cloak around her shoulders whipped about her form as she began her stride back to the swoopbike. Her hand slipped the datapad back in its place, and she kept a feeling out for Safiriel, keeping track of her. After tucking the datapad away, she slipped her lightsabre into her sash and stopped just in front of her swoop.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

"I've got a ship. Damned good one, cloaking field and all, it's nearby if you really want to leave in a hurry" Safiriel offered. She was tired, and wounded, but not done mentally. She wanted revenge, pure sweet revenge, a simply uncomplicated urge. She slowly got to her feet and followed the Pale Assassin toward her swoop, far be it from her to impose afterall, she chuckled ruefully.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

"Ready to give me that name now?" She asked, digging around in her jacket for a medpack to jam into her thigh. It would make sure she didn't die on the way to wherever the blazes her master had decided to crawl off to now

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"I'm not going on your ship, you will have to come back for it when I'm done with you."

Entering a strange ship was the last thing she wanted to do in this situation. It would be to ask for a trap. Darth Ophidia had not lived this long by trusting in strangers, quite on the contrary, her caution had saved her in many dangerous situations. This person was still a prisoner in her eyes, and a disposable one at this point. She climbed onto the Swoopbike and waited for Safiriel to take the back-seat. When asked for a name, she was quiet for a few seconds, considering.

"No."

Her name would not matter once Safiriel was dead. And if the situation on Hoth turned too hairy, she would rather not leave a witness with a name. Names were powerful. Giving someone your name was trust; knowing a name was power. Ghosts had no name, nor did serpents in the grass. She started up and revved the engine. Often referred to as a jet engine with a seat, Swoopbikes were immensely powerful and this was no exception. There was a reason why Swoop-racers were considered suicidal even to pod-racers.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

Safiriel shrugged her shoulders, sending another spike of pain through her slowly recovering body. She had no expected much more from her. She crossed the small distance and mounted the swoop with [member="Darth Ophidia"] Wrapping her hands around her waist. There was nothing intimate about the touch or the way she clung to her as the speeder took of, it was Necessity, and she hoped the pale assassin understood the need for it.

Safiriel had on her everythign she needed, a lightly armored bodysuit, and a thermally adjustable coat over it, enough to survive a decent while in about any climate. She had abandoned several miscelanious items, none of them sentimental. Sentimentality could get her killed

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Intimacy was not on the Sith Lord's mind when she felt hands wrap around her. She got the swoopbike in gear and took off. It was not overly quick to begin with as she tried not to have her baggage, Safiriel, flung off the back. However, as she turned the vehicle around, it quickly picked up speed. The engine broke once again into a howl as Darth Ophidia leaned forward to let the airstream pass over her head and back. Fabrics flapped in the wind, trees, rocks, rivers, and hills all passed with a blur as she made subtle movements with her hands and feet to swing past. A thrill filled her as the ground passed underneath them like a humongous buzzsaw,

As the spaceport in which she had landed came to view, she slowed down the swoop to less of a racing pace. For a split second, she turned her head to look at Safiriel behind her, as if to check if she was prepared. Or if she had fallen off. Approaching the port, she passed the porter a handful of credits and slipped inside. One went out, two went in, discretion was worth the pay.

Navigating through the maze of streets, they would soon come to her ship. It was a Phasma Class Infiltrator, a ship only given to select members of the Sith Assassins with all the appropriate qualities. It had served her well for many years. As the cargo bay opened, they would meet the metallic face of a droid. In its appendages, it held a carbine blaster at the ready. However, in recognition of Ophidia, it lowered its weapon.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

Safiriel remained a silent spectre behind Ophidia as they marched through the winding streets. She didn't have much interest in her sorroundings, or in much of anything really besides revenge. After that...well, one would have to see what the future held

She was curious about this assassin before her though, the one that had bested her so easily. Safiriel wasn't the greatest fighter, she was well aware of that, but the rattataki had made it seem like pure childs play, tossing her aside like an old toy

Perhaps she could convince her to teach her, when the time came.

She followed her up the boarding ramp now, into the ship, raising an eye at the carbine wielding droid, then turning to ask a silent question of Ophidia. She had fallen into a more apprentice-esque role how as she awaited the pale Assassin's order

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Stepping up on the ramp, Ophidia looked back at Safiriel. One of her hands trailed up to the side of her head and pressed a button. The helmet loosened its tight hold on the Rattataki's head, but she did not yet take it off.

"Come along. Those who lag behind are left behind."

With a wave of her fingers, the droid turned from them and headed to the controls of the ship. It started plotting in the starting sequences while the Sith sat down quietly in a chair. Her hands trailed up to her head and lifted the helmet off before placing it on the floor beside her with a heavy thud. Cloth slid over skin as she pulled up her woolen hood, hiding the ashen-skinned, scarred scalp of her head. She pulled the fabric down far enough to obscure her face, but also remain comfortable.

"Darling, put the kettle on will you?"

Her head turned to the droid, who, after setting the sequences, nodded and trailed off quietly. Ophidia took over the controls and the ship was ready to take off. Her voice then rang out to Safiriel.

"I suggest you get comfortable. It's a long way from Entralla to Hoth. Almost the entire span of the Galaxy actually."

Safiriel had run quite far, cowardly perhaps? It struck Ophidia as odd, in any case. At least they could cover most of it in Imperial space and take the old Corellian Trade Route part of the way. She was quite reluctant to cut across Galactic Alliance space, but given their ship and time, it could perhaps outweigh the risk of capture.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]

 

[Tanith Alde]

Safiriel nodded quietly in reponse, she had much to think about. She found herself an out of the way spot to sit and close her eyes as she meditated. Much had happened in very little time. She'd been abducted and brutalized, now she was on a mission to eliminate her former enslaver, accompanying a rattataki sith assassin no less.

She Breathed in and out slowly, breaking down the pain the was threatenign to build up in her body, she couldn't afford passing out now

She considered the assassin, staring at her quietly. She was powerful, that Safiriel was easily able to detect, more powerful than her previous master. Maybe, just maybe she could persuade this one to teach her as well.

She stayed like this for now, kneeling meditating and considering the woman before her

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As the ship entered hyperspace and Darling returned with a tray of tea and condiments, Darth Ophidia rose from her seat. The droid placed the tray on a ready surface and with deft hands poured a cup for its master the way she liked it: Scalding hot, four drops of blue milk. and quarter-spoon of sweetening. The cups were of a black-laquered ceramic substance, decorated with stylised plants of leaf-gold. Not dissimilar to the pattern on Ophidia's helmet of one were to take a close look. The Rattataki accepted the cup, served on a little platter, and tasted it before nodding in approval. This was indeed the tea she was looking for.

With a few silent steps, she sat down across the way from Safiriel. The only sound she let off was the swishing of fabrics as she sat down, her legs crossed. The cup and platter did not rattle, but when she sipped, she made a subtle slurping sound. It was something she had picked up on Atrisia and perfected on Mindabaal; the slurping infused the tea with air, which in turn brought the flavour to the olfactory system and greatly enhanced the experience. Darling, however, went to the ship controls to make sure the trip went smoothly. His programming made him a capable pilot, more so than many organics she had met.

As Ophidia sipped and slurped her tea, she kept her eyes trained on Safiriel. Under the shadow of her hood, her irises burned like embers among coal and ash, revealing a smouldering inner fire brought to light by her proficiency in the dark side of the Force. As Safiriel considered her, so did she consider Safiriel.

[member="Safiriel Bane"]