An unlikely pairing.

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Space between Illyria and one of her moons
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Conversational
Tags: [member="Eustachya"], [member="Adron Malvern"]
Post: #1

​

During her time as an apprentice to the Sith Lord, Xobos had seen plenty of planets around the galaxy. She had survived the frozen wastelands of Ilum, commanded a fleet of starships over Tanaab, and some swamp planet where her vision was taken. Because just had to be part of her training. With even more planets and battles under her belt, she couldn’t help but feel proud of her accomplishments, or even that she had survived thus far. Though the demeanor between her and her master had yet to change since their first interaction on Roon, and it wasn’t something likely to change anytime in the near future.

“Fail and die.” Three words, repeated to her over, and over, each and every time she was sent out on any sort of mission on her master’s behalf. This time was no different, though the reasoning behind sending her on this mission was something somewhat new. She wasn’t being sent on some sort of task to increase her skill or to further the confederacy. A mission under the guise of furthering her masters’ own personal interests. It was unique, and something that Xobos could feel herself getting excited to take on.

As the shuttle loaned to her by her master cut it’s way through the empty blackness of space, the apprentice had a few moments to sit back in her chair, pull her legs up, and began to take the time she had until the ship reached it’s pre-determined destination to mediate. Since the battle of Taanab, there seemingly had been a place unlocked within her mind to be able to retreat to within the confines of her meditative space. A place of darkness, quietness, and peace where she could confine with the voices within her mind.

It only took a few seconds for her to reach this place, opening her eyes to see that the cockpit around her had disappeared to reveal a dark void. A pair of lights, red and light green, floated a few feet off the ground. Her eyes looked from one to the other, lingering on each for a second, before addressing the pair. “And how are the voices within my mind today?” Silence fell upon the void for a few moments, before a harsh voice, emanating from the center of the red light. “We are interested in this new assignment you have been set upon, little master.” No other sounds came from the pair of lights, as it was apparent that Ora declined to comment at this time, allowing Ambrus to be the one to speak for them.

Xobos gave a small nod in the direction of the red light, letting the silence envelop them for a few moments before responding. “I too, am interested to see where this new path takes us. It is not often we get sent on something that is explicitly something for our master’s interest.” It was now that Ora decided to interject her opinion. “Everything we do has some sort of benefit to him, do not let that fool you, little master. There is always an alternative motive behind what we do. Do not be naïve and believe that we are not being used and sharpened as a tool for his benefit.”

This shocked the apprentice into silence for a few moments. These words were not the typical ones that came from the typically soft spoken Ora. And she was just a voice, who had the same demeanor most all of the time. Rarely did this demeanor ever get broken, so now that it had, Xobos didn’t have much of a response in the moment beyond a simple, “you’re..probably right, Ora.” The dark void wiped away after this, her concentration broken by the surprise by the break of character from the voice in her mind.

Her chin rested on top of her knuckles as she came out of the meditative state, thoughts running through her mind at what she had just experienced. It was something that she wouldn’t be able to just push away. This was something that would linger on her mind. But for now, the voices were silent, as they typically were once Xobos came out of the void from speaking to them for any extended period of time.

With the voices staying silent for a few moments, Xobos looked to the console in front of her to see how close she was to the supposed meeting up point of these slaver ships. Apparently here was where they transferred slaves from ship to ship to throw people off their trail. Some of Illyria’s private guard to Adron himself had received intel from moles within the organization of this meeting point. All the apprentice could hope for was that once she made it to this place, there were some slavers to slice and dice, and that her time hadn’t been wasted. Well, not her time. Her masters, and he certainly didn’t like that whatsoever.

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

The Phenex-class Jedi starfighter had evidently been quite the easy target. What little her navcomputer had told her of Illyria as she had flown into the Solara sector rose no concerns about local hostility. The planet seemed safe enough to flyby, especially seeing its Confederate affiliation, even though the would-be Jedi was only loosely tied to the Silver Order any longer.

Something had registered incorrectly, however, during Eustachya's decision process somewhere between charting her course and spotting trouble, as her vessel had been tractored into the main hanger of a slaver ship and impounded there, the pilot thrown into a dank brig cell. Here, she was hopelessly alone, without lightsaber and or Force, losing track of the Light's golden snailtrails the more she mentally dug for them. "Arroh?!" she called for her copiloting astromech, banging on the grated metal door with her discus, which had somehow found its way back to her through the ordeal.

She yelled the last two characters of T3-R0 to nothing until no one, not even had some guard passed by, could have heard it. Her snow white throat burned, her skin strained around forming bruises, and her knees finally gave way. At first, she gave no though to the way she fell and how it first hurt the legs then lulled them to sleep under her.

As the hours dragged on, discomfort of the body matched with that of the mind, though if the overall emotion doubled or canceled out Eustachya was not sure. At once, she felt too much and nothing at all. Regardless of the many billions of lightyears she had left uncounted that led home to Sargus Novis, she felt the furthest away from Myrian's farm or the gymnasium as she had ever been. The far-off pain of her exile still ghosted after her; There was no doubt that that had been her introduction to how cruel her own people could be, but this?

It bred another species of fear that quickly caught root and cultured within her.

There, in the Daphis Iceway, she had first and foremost Him and secondly a mortal savior in the form of her own Master. Her first Master. But now she had nothing.

Friendless.

Forceless.

Fatherless.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Silent
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #2

​

Clanging footsteps from behind her reminded the apprentice she was not alone within the shuttle, as the pilot returned from his short break conversing with the gunner in the back of the ship. Xobos’s demeaner changed rather quickly as she straighten up her back, letting her hands fall into her lap as the crossed legs that she had in the seat slowly set down onto the floor beneath her. She watched as the pilot, one of her more trusted companions, Sergeant Hin, settled into the seat next to her and took manual control of the shuttle. Her master had offered to allow his apprentice to use one of his own pilots, but after the battle of Tanaab, Xobos had made sure to keep up with the leader of grey squadron, or at least, the commander of those that had survived the battle.

He turned to her, giving the blind woman a slight smile that was more the very light, polite upturning of his lip corners. His voice was lightly gruff, probably from years and years of military service, years that showed in the beginning of wrinkles on the young to middle aged man’s forehead. It wasn’t like he was old by any means, but it was obvious to Xobos that the years of military service had weighed on him. “We’re almost to what these slimeballs are designating their meeting spot. Apparently this is where they move the prisoners to a new ship to throw off any trackers that might be put on either ship.” A small shrug followed the statement and the Miraluka watched as the human turned to the controls, pressing a few buttons that Xobos couldn’t determine the use of. A small smirked peaked at her lips when she looked up and out of the viewport, thoughts of how this somewhat sophisticated operation may have begun running around in her mind.

“It’s kind of impressive….for a disgusting operation. Lets put an end to it quickly, shall we?” His head didn’t turn from the controls, but a quick and curt nod gave Xobos the confirmation she needed that he had heard her loud and clear. And, practically right on time, there was a shrill beep that filed the shuttles cockpit was followed by a second green dot on the scanner, indicating that a second object had been picked up near them. A second beep signified a second ship was now being scanned, and those two ships were seemingly quite close to her. Seeing this, Hin was quick to press a few extra buttons, the ship jumping as it ramped up to closer to it’s fastest speed.

They were quick to catch up to the ships, whom were both practically sitting motionless in the cold vacuum of space. Both were complete junkers, and it seemed like neither had the scanners to see that the shuttle was coming, as shown by the fact they hadn’t started firing on them yet. A tube connected the ships at the mid, which was where Xobos assumed they were transferring prisoners across from ship to ship. She turned back to the squadron leader, giving him a nod and pointing toward the ships as she did so.

“Immobilize those ships. Fire everything we have at those engines.” Another curt nod was his response as he pressed the comm button, sending a shuttle wide communication. “Gunners, target the enemies engines. Be mindful to not hit the transfer tube. We don’t want a disaster on our hands.” Seconds later, the sounds of blasters being fired filled the compartment as the shuttle’s two gunners began to fire green lasers toward the ship, both targeting the right ship’s engines. The junkers didn’t seem to have viable defenses either, as it was only a few shots as the shuttle strafed over the pair of ships before there was a small explosion. Finally, it seemed as though the ships were catching on to what was happening, as they both began to open fire on the shuttle. Almost half the damage had been done already, so it wouldn’t be long until Xobos was stalking the halls of the ships, lightsaber in hand.

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

There was barely time to catch herself when the whole room lurched below her sunken form. Though the cool metal of the door stung her raw hands, for a long while she stayed like that, braced against it as the barrage continued. What brought her back, from a sort of trance, was a mix of the ship finally stilling and a wet sensation, growing with each moment, in her lap. The weary Sargus Novian cast down her gaze to a growing volume of blood, a lake forming on an olive-tinged plain.

"Pyla!" she exclaimed, shifting immediately. Even the abbreviated form of the health goddess' name felt good on her tongue, but ached in her hand. Strangely. Eustachya opened her right fist. No sooner did she shriek at the sensations of her wound stretching and stale air connecting with it, the high pitch drowning out the clatter of the shattered clay discus to the ground.

And with that, the very essence of who she was - a master athlete from Phaskion - quite literally crumble at her feet.

With her uninjured hand, she ripped the himation scarf from around her neck and, with part, bound the other's palm. Almost immediately, crimson blossomed through the thick, rust linen.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Silent
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #3

​

What passed as defenses for these pathetic ships didn’t do much damage at all to the shuttle. From what Xobos could figure, it actually helped the gunners, who each seemed to take a momentary diversion from blasting away at the engines of both ships to fire precise shots at the turret emplacements, each ending with a tiny explosion that was out as soon as it started. The whole display was truly impressive, something that Xobos made sure to bring up with the Sergeant next to her. “Y’know, I can’t say that your boys aren’t half bad shots. They’re making quick work of these things. Hopefully I can the same once I’m inside…” The last sentence tailed off slightly as Xobos mused, trying to figure out if this was truly something she could do in a quick fashion.

The ships were by no means small, and getting them both cleared out by herself before calling for reinforcements would be an interesting endeavor. In these moments, she would typically enjoy a nice little vote of confidence from Ora, or sometimes even from Lagos. At least she would get a snarky remark from Ambrus. Yet they were silent, something that didn’t happen often. Xobos brushed it aside, assuming to be a one time thing. It seemed as though the voices sometimes had personalities of their own, so it had to be assumed they’d get fed up sometimes too.

“And there we go..” Sergeant Hin’s voice brought the apprentice back to reality just in time to see the engines of the second slaver ship explode in a fireball of glory and freedom. Xobos gave a little grin at this, slowly beginning to stand from her seat and retrieving her mask from it’s rested spot next to her chair. “Have you figured out how you’re getting me on that ship?” She asked as the mask was lifted and slid over her face, hiding it from the world around her. The man gave her a sharp nod, pressing a few extra buttons on the console before motioning out the viewport to the top of one of the slaver ships. One could see a mismatch of starship components, but could also make out the distinctive shape of a connector ring on top. “That is how we’re getting you in. Head on back to the airlock. You’ll know when we’ve connected.”

With that, she nodded back to him and left the cockpit, heading back toward the back side of the shuttle, making sure to acknowledge the gunners on their good jobs on the way back there. They had done their job phenomenally, and now it was the apprentice’s turn. As she turned and awaited the airlock to open up, her hand reached down to pull one half of her lightsaber from her cloak, giving in a quick spin on her palm before holding it in the reverse position. A solid ‘thunk’ sound, followed by the sound of grating metal gave the apprentice all the indication she needed, opening the airlock and jumping down from the shuttle’s now top position above the slavers ship.

Her boots his the metal grate flooring with an echoing clang, steam being shot out of every conceivable pipe around her. The gunners had done more damage than she had thought. Keying on the commlink in her helmet, she patched herself into Hin and the shuttle as the Miraluka began toward the back of the slavers’ ship. “I’m in. Headed to the lowest levels. I assume that’s where they’re keeping the slaves. I’ll keep you updated as progress is made.” With nothing else to report, she shut off her side of the comm, focusing now on getting to the lower levels of the ship as quickly and efficiently as possible.

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

A downpour of footfalls pelted upon the hull floor, intensifying down the hall and culminating outside of Eustachya's prison. The door hissed and slid open to a half dozen of pirates led by a scar-faced Zygerrian. Before he even thought about stepping inside the decrepit, little cell, the Jedi washout was scooting back over the floor, leaving a bloody trail as she went, but as he tilted the cylinder in his hand the dim light glinted off its golden plating - her lightsaber - she stopped cold. She even began to stand, bracing herself with her good hand on the wall to keep upright on shaky legs that had seemingly forgotten how to walk. As if her fear had settled like lead into the bottom of her veins.

The slaver leader stalked closer. His dark blue fur bristled on the back of his neck, but to show fear or instill it? Without the living stream flowing around her, she could not be sure. "Looks like you're our golden ticket, girl," he began. A jerk of his head called forward two alien men, whom found it easy to haul up the woman stumbling to shrink away and secure a slave collar around her neck. "Our apologies there's no time to properly condition you, but we need you to do something for us now." His arms unfolded, one offering her her weapon, the other producing a control.

"Someone's boarded - Sith by the look of them - and you're going to throw them back into space." Slowly, almost in unreal time, his taloned finger flipped the red switch halfway. The shock pushed its way down through her body only for a moment before it was retracted back into the concealed coils. "And we'll be watching, so don't get smart."

The threat was halfway implied, halfway understood, leaving Eustachya to choose life. She didn't know why she did it, but she did, inching forward and snatching away her saber like a newborn foal unsure of the world. "Run along, 4571."

The number was printed above her cell. As the pirates outside of it parted for her, she started off on this quest which was surely for a scapegoat's death...

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Enraged
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #4

​

Clangs echoed through the hallway with each bootstep, which were silent except hisses of steam being let lose. With every step, she could feel her anger and hatred for each and every one of these slavers for putting these people through such an ordeal. She knew exactly what it felt like to be a prisoner. Well, one of her own mind, at least. As this anger continued to boil, the apprentice reached started to spin her blade, slashing through the grating and pipes around her and leaving dark, deep cuts. These slashes caused even more steam to shoot out, as if this great metal beast was bleeding from the attacks of the apprentice.

As her rage began to boil over the edge of her mind, she could feel the overwhelming presence of Lagos beginning to reach and consume over all her thoughts. When a pair of the slavers guards came around the corner, they saw the sith apprentice heading toward them at a slow pace, and began to frantically fire at her. The lightsaber was brought up, calmly beginning to block each of their surprisingly pinpoint shots. Yet even with her calm demeanor, the rage had now built to a boiling point, and all it took were a few words from the most powerful of the voices. “Kill them. Kill every, single, one of them.”

And with that, Xobos blocked one final shot before letting out a primal, anger filled roar which reverberated through every single hall of the ship. Even if it was sound, the darkness that accompanied the roar could easily be felt, and the guards at the end of the ship could be seen stumbling back a little bit. Xobos’s eyes focused on them, let out a small growl, then pushed forward quickly, sprinting down the hall while avoiding and blocking the now much more frantic and varied shots.

The first of the pair was lucky enough to meet a quick end, earning the blade through his chest and driving him to the ground. Xobos looked up from her now knelt position, seeing the fear in the cat alien’s eyes, before quickly swinging her leg underneath his, knocking him to the ground next other knelt form. She looked him over for just a moment, before pulling her blade from the now dead guard and slashing across the others, slicing him in two. Standing slowly, she wasn’t sure if he was completely dead just yet. Though, she doubted he would live. And as the scum he was, Xobos wasn’t convinced he was worth the time it would take to end his suffering.

And so, she walked, leaving the guard gurgling on his own blood as the apprentice proceeded down the next available stairway, knowing that the slaves would be kept on the bottom floor. The stairway emptied into another long hallway, with rows upon rows of slave cells, and she could feel her rage beginning to boil yet again. Twileks, rodians, and plenty of other slave species filled the cells. Some backed away in fear of her red blade, causing her to quickly deactivate the saber as she knelt down, reaching through the bars to a red and white skinned Togruta, motioning her forward. “Tell me where I can deactivate your collars. We are leaving, understand?” The alien began to answer, but Xobos’s mind began to feel clouded. She slowly stood, looking down the hall and reigniting her blade. It was faint, but there was a telltale sign of a new type of scum on this ship.

A jedi.

​

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

Somewhere down those twisted tubes, winding as a creature's gut, Eustachya began chasing the Force's coattails. Something dangled in front of her, a feeling she was too far too weary to heed the alignment of but followed to bask in some sort of heat. She desired it - she needed it - even if the sun rays she flew to would melt her waxen wings and plummet her to her death.

Around another corner, Iamus waited, the God of war for the sake of blood, with gifts: a wide kylix of adrenaline, which she drunk like honeyed wine, and bloodied ambrosia upon a platter, eaten up like she had never once tasted of the earth. All made an Immortal feast for the chosen of Daphis, the cupbearer His most beguiling of Brothers. She had no stool upon which to sit, but Iamus lounged among fur trappings, loom workings, and mined keepings.

You come to Me, of Myrian, He whispered as she ate of Him, never ceasing the more she moved ahead, and be steeled. Tell, what ever is wrong with preserving yourself for tomorrow? The Mortals tell you a life of violence is not one worth living, but what about that of the one whom means to kill you? Oh, she would do anything to have fallen in Idridri to Kriton. In the case of him, what of him indeed? He hadn't died, but what had her self-defense gained her? A foreign master and a frostbite scar.

Death would have retained her dignity.

The scientific reasoning behind her Sensitivity - midichlorians - given to her by the Silver Jedi had solidified all the more the proposition made at her trial: the Force was a dangerous gift from Iamus. The seed swam in her veins, and all she could do to not bow down to its control was to instead confine herself to the one, central moral derived of the Sargus Novian mythos:

Never partake of that bloodlusty Being.

Or his Followers, like the one down the corridor, a stagnant snake in her hands, not yet posed to strike but radiating vibrant and dangerous anger. In response, Eustachya called upon her own blade. A moment she took to bask in the golden light before she flourished the sword handle in her hands. Transferring it to one, she took a wide, arcing stance, becoming the image of the master discus thrower she had once been. Then she threw it as if it was one too. Air parted, hissing, as the saber hurdled towards Xobos so the athlete might pull it back once the mark was hit.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

​

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Intrigued
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #5

​

It was only a few moments later that the jedi appeared from around the corner. Though describing her as a jedi was quite a nice compliment in Xobos’s mind. Not only did she look ragged, and was bleeding from her hand, which was quite clear even from the distance they were at, but she also still had some sort of collar around her neck. Was she a jedi? She looked like one of the slaves that surrounded the pair. The woman certainly had the lightside flowing through her, albeit, even that was quite weak at this moment.

Lagos’s voice filled her mind as the woman ignited her yellow saber and turned to the Sith apprentice, and Xobos took a stance of defense. “This one is….quite intriguing. She’s does not feel like the typical jedi scum.” Xobos opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off as the woman flung her saber toward the apprentice in a completely unexpected move. With a yelp, she rolled backward, ending up on one knee and watching the lightsaber being pulled back to this lightside. With a sarcastic and annoyed tone, the Miraluka responded to the voice. “Well, I’ve never seen a jedi pull off that move. She certainly is different.”

This was all said under her breath. Her annoyance at this jedi stopping her for some reason from freeing these slavers was beginning to get underneath her skin. Slowly raising to her feet, she held her arms out, the pointed her saber towards the woman and called out to her. “So this is what you jedi scum have resorted to at this point? Defending slaver trash?” Her saber began to point to the ground and her free hand reached into her cloak, pulling out an identical saber, igniting it with a similar red blade. “You’re pathetic.”

And with those two words, the apprentice surged forward, blades crossed in front of her to deflect any of those pesky throwing attacks. Once she was a few meters from the woman, her foot pressed hard onto the ground, propelling the Miraluka into the air, and coming down on the woman with both blades slashing down toward her. Perhaps this would teach this type of lightside scum to not defend these types of people, though the thought did linger on her mind why the woman was doing this. Maybe she would ask her, once she was bleeding out on the floor.

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

Xobos may have been a Miraluka, but she just might have been part Gorgon in that moment too, for Eustachya stilled upon her approach. Fear, though, not slowly solidifying cement, ran cold in her veins, as she regret being swayed by Iamus so easily. His feast so easily digested, the steeled determination and lust for life had worn and washed away, pulled into the twin red blades facing her.

Somewhere behind the blind one, a camera mounted into a corner stirred and the lens extended to focus on the Jedi. Someone was watching, evidently, and too grew displeased with the enslaved's hesitation. A yarn of electric blue hopped out of the collar and danced about her neck, stepping off the dull durasteel and onto the girl's olive skin. "Argggh!" The Child of Novis collapsed to one knee and Her God hissed through her saber as it cut into the floor. The pain dissipated quickly as she stood and choked up her hold.

She only had a moment after Xobos lept:

Slide out. Whip around. Stand. Flourish.

Only then, her defense played out in full, did she process the Sithling's taunt. Pathetic. Yes, very, of course. But Jedi? Maybe not so accurate. Again, maybe so. Who the lost Force Sensitive floated freely in the wine-dark starseas, somewhere not in her heart. If she meant to find it, salvation rested in the hands of her current masters, not Xobos'. Explanations, diplomacy, both meant little to darksiders, or so Eustachya had learned in the schooling halls of the Rest. The road to Chaos was indeed paved with the very best of intentions. "For it I will repent, but not to any Sith."

Mirroring Xobos' surge, Eustachya dropped her body instead to trace a wide arch in gold.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

​

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Intrigued
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #6

​

As she came down on the woman, blades intending to find their targets at the woman’s sides, she saw, just for a moment, the blue electricity streak across her tattered body. Not only that, but it seemingly left the woman drained, giving Xobos a target on her knees. Even so, her slashes met nothing but air, as in the corner of her eye, she could see the woman rolling to the side. It was an interesting dodge, one that left the apprentice slightly frustrated. Though, it made sense, since the woman looked like she was quite the slippery one.

Slowly, she began to stand from her knelt position, turning to the jedi and leveling her blades at her sides. Silently, Xobos began to observe the woman up and down, trying to figure out exactly what she was facing. “Why…why is this thing wearing a collar?” Lagos’s words echoed through her mind, mirroring her own thoughts. It just didn’t make sense, at all. And why did she need to repent? What did that even mean? Was she…one of these slaves?

These thoughts were brought to a complete halt when the jedi struck at her again. Xobos brought up just one of her blades to meet to long, sweeping strike. It was telegraphed, easy to block and hold. Gold and red clashed, staying together for a few moments before the apprentice brought her other blade to meet the gold, now pushing it back with the combined strength of both her lightsabers. Instead of slashing at the jedi, xobos decided to push the woman back a bit, then hopping backward. She brought her blades back up to a ready position, taking a deep, long breath.

The voice of the apprentice came through the mask’s speaker, directed at the jedi, or whatever this woman might really be. And, at this point, she sort of wanted to know. “Tell me, you wear a collar. Why? And you were just shocked…who is holding you leash, jedi?” Her blades continued to be held at a ready stance, yet Xobos made no move to attack. Just yet. If the answer wasn’t what she wanted, then she might think differently about not attacking, just yet.

​

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

Eustachya slid backwards on the floor, her momentum running dry centimeters before colliding with the wall. The warm embrace of tutaminis was to thank by absorbing some of Xobos' exerted energy.

As the Force dissipated, her words came. They were some trick, certainly. Their content was caring, but the woman stance coupled with the mechanical reverb of her voice both suggested quite differently, dangerous and dark. Still, a bit of the truth wouldn't - couldn't possibly be so bad...

No. Her overlords would not like it and, if they found it so easily to express their disapproval to Eustachya on Eustachya, what was stopping them from doing the same to her by way of the other slaves. She cast a quickly, desperate glance down and up the hall in to motions, scanning the grated cells. The inhabitants she knew present had shrunk away from the dim light filtering inside since the fight had began. They surely wore collars of the same or similar model. Her own pain she found to be tolerable now, but their would certainly not be. So she would not say, though the Sith was bound to find out sooner or later on her own. "Not you," Stach answered instead, taking the hand from her unchosen necklace that had drifted there upon its mention. Then, momentary curiosity won over scorn. "Why such questions, Sith? Surely--"

Another jolt, markedly stronger this time, returned the would-be Jedi back to floor - all fours this round. Her hands hit the hull, causing her lightsaber to deactivate and clatter across the hull, sliding halfway between herself and the enemy.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Intrigued
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #7

​

Xobos couldn’t help the slight angry grimace at the defiance of the woman, telling the sith that she was not the one to hold the jedi’s leash. “Quite the defiant little bug, isn’t she, little master?” The miraluka grumbled a response, then began to lean forward to speak louder to the jedi with a snarl. That was before the lightnings of electricity raced over the blonde haired woman’s entire body. She stood tall, watching the jedi collapse to the ground with her saber sliding toward the sith apprentice. Intrigued, her head tilted to the side as the miraluka strode forward, picking up the hilt of the lightsaber and placing it deep within her cloak. There was no reason to give that back just yet.

As she strode forward, the Amazonian might notice that with each step, it seemed as though Xobos’s shadow physically grew and shaped into long tendrals. It was quite the intimidating sight, especially as all her attention seemingly focused on the woman at her knees. With her blades still ignited, she slowly brought them upward, obviously intent to drive a final slice across the woman’s body. With a sound of voice that was much louder than needed, and with the tendrils of darkness continuing to grow, Xobos brought the blades downward with a loud laugh. “Meet your end, jedi!!”

The blades were brought down, the hum echoing through the hallway…only for them to stop halfway, as the tendril of darkness shot out from the apprentice, piercing the camera right in the middle of the sith’s potential final strike. If Xobos had timed it right, whoever might be on the other side of that camera might think that their jedi toy was now dead, and would find no other reason to continue to shock it. Because of this, xobos didn’t bring down the final strikes, still intent on earning the answers she wanted from the woman. Leveling one blade her neck, Xobos spoke, her voice filled with authority in the situation. “Now that we’re alone…speak. Know that I have no qualm with killing you if you don’t speak in a way that pleases me, little jedi.”

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

She had expected death, meeting it with eyes screwed closed and her subordinate stance unbroken.

But when the hot flash of a saber that would precede the cold embrace of nothingness failed to come, Stach looked upwards into the faceless mask of her foe. "Not of my own devices," she began through clenched teeth, focusing on stilling her throat and chin as much as possible rather than further defiance. The heat radiating off of the crimson blade caused beads of sweat to gather on the former padawan's olive-toned skin, also slightly lightened by the overall glow. She made the decision to give into Xobos in a mere moment, not specifically for her wellbeing but that of those chained beings lining these halls. "This venture of mine has been ripe with the injustice all about us. I made for the Regions Unknown, but my ship was capsized and so I have been enslaved. The masters, they set me against you." Maybe, in form of a truth shared, Eustachya might yet turn around her situation - even if she was fated to die like this.

At a Sith's hand, kneeling and speaking of what she sought. To Masters Nooran and Varless, and Idris and Pash, she prayed Aenuleth would extend her deepest sorrows across the starseas to where ever each might be. Would she be able to reunite with any in death if they did not accept her Gods? Please, let there be a way...

"A bad beginning begets a bad ending."

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Intrigued
Tags: [member="Eustachya"]
Post: #8

​

“The unknown reigns…I wonder, if they are unknown to you, or unknown to the galaxy…” Xobos mused to herself, looking over the, frankly, quite pitiful form in front of her. This woman was broken. Both physically and mentally. From the look on her face to the words she spoke, it was as if she was not only expecting her death, but welcoming it. Though it would make sense if someone was holding a lightsaber to your neck to embrace the death that would soon be coming, but this was different. Her broken spirit was not something that Xobos had done. In fact, her mind wandered to if she had been broken before the pair had even met.

A thought slowly started to form in her mind. The more she looked at the sleak form of the woman in front of her, the more she looked to be more of a weapon. One forged from steel, that had perhaps just lost it’s edge. Or…perhaps one that could be reforged into something better. Something Xobos wanted it to be. “Your own student of the force…” Lagos’s voice only reinforced the thoughts swimming in her mind, which just served to push her to the decision she had been floating toward.

Slowly, her single blade raised once more, before being brought down in a vicious slash toward the woman’s neck. Yet, her blade did not flesh. The only sound to fill the hallway of slaves was the sounds of two pieces of metal hitting the floor, the halves of the woman’s slave collar. She allowed the moment to pass, then slowly stepped back. Her blade was deactivated as she knelt, placing it back onto her belt and retrieving the hilt of the other warriors.

Xobos waited a few moments to allow the woman’s attention to focus back on her, speaking after she had caught the woman’s eyes. “I am going to give you the chance to defeat those that have taken your honor for you. Die, and at least you go down fighting for your freedom, instead of the servitude of others. Live…and I will show you how to make servants of your own.” Slowly she stood, offering the hilt to the knelt woman with a few last words, “Join me.”

 

[Epistor of Phasekion]

~ Tag: [member="Xobos Yakieer"] ~​

- Ω -​

Once more, nothing did not see fit to arrive when everything remained present. Eustachya opened the gilded eyes she had not realized she had screwed shut, as if in traditional preparation of an immortal offering, and gazed up at her would-be sacrificer. Did the dark-haired miraluka bestow a blessing or a curse? Freedom to either live or die, and, if she did the former, to...

...enslave.

Iamus was not one known in Novious mythos to sing but, at that offer, he did. At once, the lost padawan demanded quiet. No. If that be my choice, I will easily die, she told Him before rising to her feet. After reaching her full height, slightly higher that Xobos, she accepted her returned saber. "Very well, then." It was, of course, not very well at all, but Eustachya was not one to turn down the hand of Fate - even if that hand outstretched from the Darkness. "We will see what awaits."

With her free hand, Eustachya pulled part of the broken collar to her. Not for safe keeping - for safe navigation of the ship. The faith that the feline slavers had until this very moment not-so-foolishly put in her, and thus the clearances they had entrusted her with, would be their undoing. "This way." She began in a steady jog the way she had come, quickening her pace as Xobos became her shadow. The cell she had recently been released from seemed to be as good a place to start dismantling this enterprise as any.

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Illyria
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Focused
Tags: Epistor of Phasekion
Post: #9

​

In the back of her mind, she didn’t even know if this was a good idea. Or if she could really even..teach this force user to wield her power better. If the Miraluka looked at it objectively, she didn’t exactly know that many force powers. Her best quality at this point was probably her dueling, and even that was subjective at best. Perhaps by attempting to sharpen this force user into a tool that she could use, Xobos would find herself becoming sharper as well. If that was the end result of all this, then it be beneficial to all sides, she thought.

That was considering, of course, that this mission got completed. She hadn’t yet learned what it looked like to fail a mission for her master and to have to face him for it, but it was not something that she was all too eager to find out. Luckily enough for her, it seemed as though this..whatever Xobos should call her, knew where she was going. Though by the time they got to where the woman had been imprisoned beforehand, it was becoming clear that she really didn’t know how to get to the bridge or a plan to get there.

That, ultimately, was fine. Being back to where the woman was imprisoned was good enough for the apprentice. Once there, she stepped forward, running her gloved hands along the metal bars of what could only be described as a metal cage. A tiny one. And one that only served to grow and add fuel to the flame of anger that she felt against these disgusting beings. Tracking things through the force was not a specialty of hers, at least not yet, but she had become good enough at it to where she could at least get an idea where certain things are.

Much like her time on a certain backwater planet, Xobos took a knee on the metal flooring and slowed her breathing to the point of near silence. It only took a few moments, her head moving from side to side as she felt her way through the hallways with the force, only to finally ending up knowing the exact location of the head slaver and his keys. Focusing on a specific item had helped, so the moment Xobos stood from her knelt position next to the cage, she burst forth down the hallway.

“Keep up, jedi. We’ll find these slavers and make them pay for the pain they’ve put these people through.” She called out over her shoulder, not looking back to make sure the golden haired woman was actually following her. There was no need to. Either she would follow, or she would not. It was to be dictated through the force.

​