Unfriendly Affairs

[Xiarr Sair]

The Ancient Outsider zoomed through space, trying to outrun a Fury-Class Interceptor. While in the Illum system, Xiarr was ambushed by the Interceptor. He had no idea who was piloting it, or if the pilot was expecting him or not, but it didn't matter now. The sith was now on his tail, and he wouldn't last long if he didn't do something. Xiarr quickly steered the old Republic Corvette around, hoping the sith wouldn't catch on to what he was doing. As the Corvette's line of sight would reach the Interceptor's engines, Xiarr gave everything he got at it, utilizing all of the automated turrets and guns he had to the destroy the the engines, and hopefully the entire bow.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

The force was powerful, some even going as far to say that it was all-knowing. Whether the mysterious energy was sentient or not mattered little to Ballen-Ist, for he had spent years dominating and bending it for his own purposes. Being of the Kissai caste of Purebloods, the Knight was greatly attuned to the force, being lucky enough to be born with sensitivity to it. Some members of his species were not sensitive to the force in the slightest, those ones being looked down upon and often given the most menial of tasks within a tribe. Regardless, Ballen-Ist knew that everyone had a role to play in the universe, no matter how insignificant it might be.

Sitting alone in the small command deck of the Fury-class interceptor, the Sith Knight held the flight controls tightly in both hands, his gloved thumbs slamming down on the triggers that activated the four precision laser cannons the vessel was armed with. The force had guided him to the Illum system, though for what purpose had been unknown to the Pureblood until now. The light corvette that he pursued was of ancient design, that much he could tell just by looking at the ship. Despite this, the pilot was extremely talented, having managed to evade all of the laser cannon fire directed at it.

The pilot [member="Xiarr Sair"] was undoubtedly gifted, utilising his bulky ship in the most effective ways possible. The Fury-class interceptor that Ballen-Ist flew was just a bit larger than his opponent's, though it was a designed for brief dogfights with similar ships. The sudden maneuver of his opponent was unexpected, as the light corvette pulled up to an angle that gave it a clear shot at the Fury's engines. The interceptor shook furiously as it was hit, the shields draining to nearly zero percent as the thrusters began to fail. The damage had not been as great as Xiarr had hoped, but it was still enough to weaken the ship to the point where it was pulled into Illum's gravity. Strapping himself in, Ballen-Ist prepared for the worst as the ship broke through Illum's icy atmosphere, steam trailing off the red hot metal as the two temperatures collided. If the Sith had been able to glimpse into the future any further, he might have been prepared for this situation. Now all he could do was prepare for a crash landing, hoping to guide the ship down in the gentlest possible way.

 

[Xiarr Sair]

As the Interceptor was pulled into the gravity of Illum, any reasonable person would have just left his pursuer behind, but in that moment, Xiarr was eager to finish off this nuisance, and he really had nothing else to do. Whoever this person was, maybe they were on the brink of death and he could have easily finished them off, but that was unlikely, as Xiarr couldn't remember the last time things were so easy. Hell, maybe this pursuer was a Sith Lord, but that was as unlikely too. Xiarr then made the descent toward the snowy world of Ilum, eager to put an end to this rabble.

It was midnight on the planet of Illum, a time where it was even more isolated and eerie. The lights of the Corvette light up the area around him, but all he could see was snow and darkness. He looked up at the sky to see smoke rising in the distance. Xiarr ignited his lightsaber and walked toward the smoke. When he reached the wreck of the ship, he saw bits and pieces, some on fire, others covered in snow. He saw the remains of a cockpit, and he felt a force signature coming from it. He readied his defense and walked toward the signature slowly, bracing his defenses.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

With the aid of the force, Ballen-Ist was able to minimise the damage sustained as the Fury-class interceptor collided with the snow sullied surface of Illum, its trajectory allowing it to skid for miles before coming to a complete stop. Half of the ship was deeply entrenched in the snow, smoke rising from the battered vessel as it lay still among the raging blizzard. Darkness had overcome the Sith, his body limp while still seated in the pilots chair of the interceptor that had managed to survive the brutal impact. Returning to consciousness, Ballen-Ist slowly opened his eyes, examining his surroundings as the memories suddenly came rushing back to him.

Undoing the strap of his chair, the Knight would fall to his knees, struggling to regain control over his weakened body. The adrenaline rush he had experienced was now fading, bringing the sensation of warm blood trickling down his face to his attention. This was unable to be seen by others, seeing as the Sith donned a metallic helmet around his head which had most likely saved him from death by blunt trauma. Still, the pain he felt was incredible, causing him to groan as he crawled across the floor towards the transparisteel viewport.

It was severely cracked, but had managed to stay intact and clear of the snowy piles that otherwise surrounded the ship. A flashing red light was all that illuminated the ships interior, a silent alarm that was indicative of the damage sustained. Ballen-Ist had no idea how much time had passed since the Fury-class had made it planet side, but that mattered little considering the presence he could feel nearby. Harnessing the pain he experienced, the Sith would slowly begin to climb to his feet, drawing back both of his arms as he focused on the force, tainting it with his emotions in order to empower it greatly.

Thrusting both palms forth, a destructive wave of telekinetic energy was sent surging towards the cockpit viewport, shattering the already cracked glass and sending deadly shards flying outwards in [member="Xiarr Sair"]'s direction. After doing so, the Sith Knight would climb out of the makeshift opening, landing with a crunch on the surface as his booted feet dug in to the snow beneath. A hateful glare was the only response Ballen-Ist could muster for the time being, as he looked unto what he assumed to a Jedi with the utmost rage.

 

[Xiarr Sair]

Xiarr examined the area around him, he noticed shards of glass and dislocated metals. They could be useful in a fight if used correctly, but Xiarr doubted there was going to be a real fight. Suddenly, darkness and hate encapsulated the area, and Xiarr quickly moved out of the way. Glass shards went into the air and Xiarr could hear the sounds of boots hitting the ground. This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. Xiarr saw a dark sider in some sort of armor with a strange metallic helmet. It felt even colder than it was before, with darkness swirling around this man. Xiarr deactivated his lightsaber and pulled out his DL-18, not wanting to approach the man head on. Hopefully, the sith's arm was broken, as he could easily pull out his saber. Xiarr aimed his blaster at the Sith, he pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. He noticed that there were no rounds in the blaster pistol, he groaned in annoyance and threw the blaster aside. "Great" he thought to himself "How could my day get any worse."

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Luckily for Ballen-Ist, no major injuries had been inflicted upon his body during the crash. As unlikely as it was, the Sith had managed to survive almost unscathed, with the aid of the force of course. The powerful wind blew the Sith's cloak about wildly as he stood his ground, still simply glaring at [member="Xiarr Sair"] who had begun to pull out a blaster pistol. Before he even had the chance to toss it away, Ballen-Ist's arm lifted, his gloved hand spread open as he aimed it towards the firearm. With a brief exertion of force energy and a closed fist, the blaster pistol would appear to implode, crumpling from the inside as if it were made of papier-mache.

Ballen-Ist was no fool, and he would not allow this meddling Jedi to think he could win easily just because of a crash landing. With the power of the dark side as his tool, Ballen-Ist was determined to make this a battle that the Jedi would not easily forget. The Sith Knight had a plethora of abilities to use at his disposal, and he even considered utilising his force lightning. However, seeing as Xiarr was indeed a Jedi, he would most likely be capable of blocking the electricity with his saber. Instead the Sith lifted both of his arms and thrust them forward, focusing on the pain and hatred that had been building up slowly within him.

Manipulating the dark energy within along with the air currents that surrounded him, Ballen-Ist would reach out with his mind, igniting a visible spark of heat despite the freezing surroundings. Two powerful jet streams of flame burst from the Knight's hands, searing through the snow below as they travelled at breakneck speeds towards Xiarr. The two beams of dark fire conjured by his understanding of science and Kro Var Shaping would advance, eventually combining into one large stream in the hopes of crushing the Jedi within the hateful vortex of flame.

 

[Xiarr Sair]

Xiarr watched as the faulty blaster imploded in his hands, this was an obvious sign that this sith was a lot more powerful than he had expected. The remaining scrap fell out of his hand as he looked into the darksiders hate filled eyes. Scum. That was all he saw a pathetic, brainwashed imbecilic that believed anything his higher ups told him. The only thing the sith craved was power nothing else motivated them more than the single thought of power. It was almost sad really, an entire life solely dedicated to hate, anger, compassion, and power. As those quick thoughts rushed through his mind, clutched his lightsaber with a firm grip, the light yellow illuminating his face.

The sith slowly got up, his xanthous eyes felt like they were staring into Xiarr's sole. Then, a spark of heat would ignite in the sith hands, before Xiarr could react, streams of dark fire would race toward Xiarr. He did his best to clear out, jumping to his right behind a large piece of rubble, but as soon as he took cover, he felt a hot, sharp pain coming from his left hand. He immediately rolled in the snow, trying to extinguish the flame before it could do more damage. When the flame was extinguished, he covered a part of his left arm with his right hand, hoping it wouldn't affect his dueling skills.

[member="Ballen-Ist"]

 

[Ballen-Ist]

Within his lightly armoured suit and helmet, Ballen-Ist was mildly protected from the hazards of Illum. The cold temperatures did little to phase him as he controlled his body heat, his prowess in the Kro Var arts and pyrokinesis helping him to do so. There were other basic techniques that allowed the same results, though the Sith Knight knew little of them. The two powerful tendrils of orange flame began to disperse into the air, steam rising from the snow that had been instantaneously melted in the process. Beneath the T-visor of his helmet, Ballen-Ist watched [member="Xiarr Sair"]'s movements, surprised by how quickly the man had reacted. If he hadn't followed up his dash to the right with another roll, the Jedi would have been caught in the tunnels of flame and slowly burnt to a crisp.

The damage sustained to his left hand was not enough to satisfy Ballen-Ist, for the pain he himself felt was far greater. It powered his force abilities, the dark side aiding him in his struggle against the fool before him. Neither had drawn their real weapons, and it seemed like the next few exchanges would be a contest of the force. The Pureblood was very confident due to this, his raw power having always been his most formidable attribute. Though his hatred for the Jedi was great, the Sith always found a special place beneath his boot for those considered 'balanced.' Whoever this individual was, they were no true Jedi, much like the Tusken he had met long ago.

Their types always managed to delude themselves with lies, believing in their foolish philosophy which only weakened them in the end. The dark side's power was absolute and pure, and that was why Ballen-Ist paused to speak. "Your name?" He called out to his foe, who had just finished dunking his hand in the snow that surrounded them. Many things were on his mind, such as the reason he had entered this system in the first place. The force had brought him here, but why?