Duel Unhinged | Vestra Tane v.s. Arris Windrun

[Arris Windrun]

CORUSCANT
SENATE ROTUNDA
Vestra Tane​

Iconic. The rotunda, the traditional seat of galactic politics, has endured much. How many times was it attacked? Rebuilt? Indeed, when the Covenant found it, the superstructure was in ruin. But now, it was the focal point of the Covenant's reconstruction effort.

At the building's heart, where senators once met and debated the lives of trillions, Arris Windrun sat at the bottom looking up. The space had largely been carved out to make room. Nearly half the senate pods were discarded, with the rest converted into viewing platforms for spectators. Construction workers and slaves -- under Varin Mortifer 's purview -- labored to meet impossible deadlines.

Footsteps alerted the cyborg to another's presence. Familiar. She looked to her side and saw Vestra approaching.

She wasn't particularly happy to see her.

Arris shifted to her feet and dusted off her jacket and pants, then put her hands on her hips and turned to face the woman.

"Don't you have an academy to run?"

 

[Vestra Tane]

There was always a breaking point. It was the inevitable conclusion of any honest historian of the Sith - eventually, no matter how powerful the warrior or clever the assassin or brilliant the sorcerer, every Sith broke, finally, sooner or later. Jedi sacrificed themselves, nobly, to save hundreds of lives. Jedi died peacefully, surrounded by students and friends and teachers. Sith killed and tortured and maimed, until there was nothing left of them but an empty husk or an animal to be put down.

It was the price you paid to be free. Vestra just hadn't expected to begin paying it so soon.

A jet black hand held her coat closed as she wandered into the senate chambers. She hadn't intended to come here; she hadn't intended to do anything at all. She wandered in a haze, as she had for months.

"Don't you have an academy to run?"

Finally, she looked upon Arris Windrun , whose presence she hadn't registered until she heard her voice.

Arris, who slaughtered her way through the finest tournament the Galaxy had seen in ages. Arris, who killed with a smile that held no joy. Arris, to whom Sith meant weapon.

Arris, who had cursed her with guilt.

Something flickered inside her, and she smiled. It was a hateful, ugly expression.

"Fuck off, Arris."

She wasn't bothering with the street-rat affect anymore. Her accent was rough, rural. She sounded tired.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Vestra Tane
​

Arris caught the signs of the Triumvir's dissociation. She had been in that situation herself, quite often, maybe all the time, until recently.

Still, that didn't mean Arris would dote sympathy upon her, for she had none.

Vestra's words weren't particularly hurtful or annoying, but Arris had expected them to be followed by something at least. It hadn't dawned on her that the Chandrilan simply wandered up to her in a haze.

She snickered. "I'm sorry - is that all you came here to say?"

The cyborg stepped a pace forward, hands where they were at her hips. Then, she turned and waved a dismissive hand. Vestra's smile annoyed her.

"You know what? Fuck off yourself. Go mope about Chandrila or whatever the hell you've been doing."

 

[Vestra Tane]

"Ace threw our fight."

Vestra hadn't realized what she'd said until the words left her mouth. But it was a good angle, for...whatever it was she was trying to do. She wasn't quite sure. But Acier Moonbound felt like the perfect knife to start prying Arris open with.

"Back on Genarius. When he first joined up. It was easy to tell."

As she spoke, she stumbled towards one of the nearby senate pods. Tenderly, she traced synthskin fingers over its cool metal shell. Even as dull as she felt now, the smooth metal thrummed to her senses with endless potential for violence.

The flicker in her chest grew; now it was an ember, fed by kindling of fear.

"Even with one arm, he shoulda put up a better fight than that. Figured he wanted something. Thought it would be funny to watch him."

Don't leave. I just started feeling again.

"How much do you share with him, Arris? How much do you think he shares with his friends?"

Hate me a little longer.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Vestra Tane​

Arris tilted her head.

That was not the response she expected. If she was expecting at all.

It took her a moment to process exactly what Vestra was saying. That Ace threw the fight, and the implication that followed: that Ace allowed himself to be captured by the Sith. But why would she say that now? And why so out-of-pocket? Initially, Arris didn't want to accept it or her line of questioning as anything but a shallow attempt to start something.

Yet, the Talusian had her own doubts of late.

"First - I learned that you're a complicated fuck. I mean, you were captured by Vestra, right? But when we spoke, you said you believed in this. The Covenant. Yet, unlike the other acolytes and apprentices, you have zero ambition. No initiative. You killed when I asked you to kill, without hesitation. You attacked ISB headquarters and stuck to the mission, but you resent the 'reward' of being my apprentice."

But her doubts were more than that.

This was terror pure and simple, and if they - The Covenant - were 'us' then the whole galaxy was 'them.' It defeated the scale at which Arris could view everything through the lens of gangland. A street rat's logic, rationale, and worldview no longer prospected a future worth living in.

Her doubt was in the Covenant.

And she held hate in her heart for the likes of Vestra Tane.

Windrun's gaze steeled; a rare reaction that breached the sterile nothingness of the perfectly controlled cyborg. Of course, Vestra knew well enough what kind of person Arris truly was, and how easily that switch was flipped.

"Get to your point, Vestra, if you have one." Demanded coldly.

 

[Vestra Tane]

"Your apprentice is a rat, probably, maybe."

She turned around to face Arris again, and that smile was still stuck on her face. Hateful, ugly...and now, just a little bit, happy.

"And you let him in because, what, you liked his grit? Because he was a good soldier? Like that makes him a good Sith."

One Triumvir took a step towards the other.

This was monumentally stupid. Vestra knew what kind of woman Arris really was...and what kind of damage she could do.

"But, hey, maybe that's improvement. He's turning out better than Nilira, isn't he?"

Finally, the hate bubbled up from her chest and crept into her voice. Her expression didn't change.

The flame grew, black as pitch, nestled within her heart.

"Maybe when you're done with Ace, he'll do more than sob and wait to die."

 

[Arris Windrun]

Vestra Tane
​

Oh, it annoyed her, alright - but smearing Ace and her reasons for selecting him felt like a grasp.

Arris picked up what Vestra was trying to do, but she still wasn't clear as to the why. Especially, since their last little bout at the Red Ronin left Vestra on the floor to be consoled by Mercy, who insisted that the two stop fighting.

She rolled her eyes and started to turn away from Vestra.

"You're gonna have to do better than--"

"But, hey, maybe that's improvement. He's turning out better than Nilira, isn't he?"

Arris stopped; metal foot dug into the sand.

"Maybe when you're done with Ace, he'll do more than sob and wait to die."

She looked back over her shoulder. "The hell's that supposed to mean?" Fingers twitched at her side.

She knew exactly what the Sith was alluding to, and that alone tempted the cyborg to turn around and pummel her, but she wanted Vestra to say it. Arris needed to hear it directly, if only to satisfy some pathetic part of her longing for a judgment she herself was too cowardly to submit.

Her self-loathing crackled in the Force between them.

 

[Vestra Tane]

Finally, Vestra felt alive again.

That rage in the air. The disgust. It felt like a tiny spark could ignite it all, and then she'd get what she wanted.

"You broke that girl, Arris."

The Sith's smile warped into a sneer. It looked more natural, if not any more pleasant. Her back straightened, and she shifted on her feet, like a shockboxer psyching herself up for a match.

"And then, what? You threw her around a little because she pissed you off? Promised her you'd kiss it and make it all better?"

The Sith's laugh was mirthless, mocking, even.

Maybe she was taking this a touch more personally than befitted her station. Maybe, perhaps, her rage here went beyond mere indignation at bad pedagogy. Some of it was self-directed - anger and regret and failure that simmered just beneath the Sith's skin.

It was all the same here - all fuel to needle Arris as harshly as she could.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Vestra Tane
​

"You broke that girl, Arris."

"I did."

For a moment, she felt calm.

"And then, what?

And then, it was over.

"You threw her around a little because she pissed you off?"

Fleeting and unappreciated.

Her hands curled into a fist; metal fingers scratched metal palms.

"Promised her you'd kiss it and make it all better?"

The back of her hand flew towards Vestra, projecting a telekinetic blast strong enough to dent plasteel. Then, she turned, hand stretched towards her. One accusatory finger pointed right at her.

"You don't know what you're talking about, and if you invoke that again, I will reach into your skull and rip out your grey matter." Arris seethed.

She walked towards Vestra, words to match each slow step. "I. Will. Kill you."