Private Beyond the Veil

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

After a series of recent events on Jutrand, from the fate of a more commanding figure to a sudden transformation in his physical form, everything manifested with a speed that gave no warning. Through it all, one constant remained: the daily training that took place with his apprentice, a slow and steady progression that often brought them to the very training grounds they now stood upon.

For weeks, they both had immersed themselves in the art of combat, focusing on the fundamentals of swordsmanship. Kasir would often be but a dark cloud looming, studying her form and technique for flaws as he forced the Felacatian to move through a series of sequences with her training sword. He would demand relentless repetition with the same parries, the same strikes, over and over, until they would become like second nature to Soah.

Everything served as a constant reminder of the path she had chosen— one of discipline and power.

Whether with her grip, or footwork, he dissected all of it with keen observation. The days began to fade into one another, every single session a blend of sweat and determination. At the end of each day, it would typically conclude with words of deeper meaning, a reminder of the chaotic galaxy they lived in. There was even the faintest flicker of satisfaction somewhere in the depths of his black heart, though he dared never to show it, more prone to giving stern critique than any appraisal.

Kasir was not just teaching her to wield a weapon; he was forging her into one.

Soon the Sith circled her. “Your form is improving, Soah. Your footwork appears more fluid, your strikes more precise from the first time we dueled.” He stepped forward, his cold gaze piercing as he inspected her stance once more. “And I trust that your self discipline has not been lacking. Do not wait for me to be by your side to practice, as I expect you to still hone your skills continuously even in my absence.”

His gaze shifted to the weapon. The training sword always felt foreign in his own grip, its weight and balance much different than the fluidity of a lightsaber. Kasir would need to further test her loyalty before trusting her with such a powerful tool.

Another session had come to a close, but today felt heavier than others, for they would now be bound for a new planet over the next few days. But that wasn’t to say there wouldn’t be possibilities for growth and development even within the 578-R transport shuttle along the way.

Striding several steps to the side, he propped himself on a small boulder. His features had recently taken on a ghostly hue, a stark contrast against the black tunic that clung to his upper frame. He imagined she wasn’t oblivious to these changes, but remained silent about it nonetheless.

As he leaned back into a more relaxed posture, the muscles of his arms rippled beneath the surface and he scanned the surroundings, watching as acolytes trained. He had already informed Soah of their upcoming departure and was reluctant to find that she accepted, even without revealing the true nature of the trip. In the aftermath of recent events, it would certainly be a welcome respite.

Amidst the ruins of Malachor V, he wanted to find redemption– or perhaps a new beginning.

Moments passed, and he eventually shifted his focus back to her. The Sith's intense look softened. "Before we leave," he began, his usual commanding voice now carrying a hint of warmth, "do you have everything you need?"

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

Kasir was right; her form had improved. A subtle lift of her chin betrayed the quiet pride that Soah, the feral Felacatian acolyte, felt in his observation. She'd been pushing herself hard since that last sparring match, the one where Kasir had disarmed her like she was some weakling. It wasn't about the sting of failure now but about the endless drills on footwork, parries, and strikes that she'd been grinding through since then. It was all starting to take shape.

She could handle daggers, her claws too, if she needed them to burst through her knuckles. But this was something different, something that she could fine tune and work on unlike what she'd used before.

Now, training finished, Soah tipped her water canteen back for a long drink, hazel eyes flicking toward Kasir as he leaned against a boulder. He looked different. It wasn't the scent of death, not quite, but something was… off. Not the usual. She filed it away in her mind, something to keep watching for. If it was a weakness, she'd need to know.

"I've packed everything I need… and what I could take," she said, her voice low, the flash of her fangs betraying her satisfaction. Leaving the Academy? That was easy. She'd learned what she needed to, and it felt like the rest was just dragging her down. Under Kasir, she'd get stronger, faster. No distractions, no pointless rituals. Just strength.

She tilted her head, curiosity lighting her gaze as she addressed him again. "So, what should I know about Malachor V?"

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

He remained seated on the boulder, as unmoving as a statue carved from marble, his gaze flicking over the training grounds and landing on a few Overseers. Her pride was evident, as though he could feel its essence in the very air around them, though he didn’t see anything wrong with such sentiments. For just as trash could accumulate in alleys, certain Sith ideologies too were already spreading and breeding in the hearts of those more desperate, certain to leave nothing but emptiness later.

As Soah spoke, and revealed her fangs, he found himself mirroring the gesture slightly, impossible to hide his elongated canines. Even amidst the constant changes in the Sith capital, he exuded a sense of calm, seemingly unaffected by the fact that nearly every Sith nearby would soon be an enemy.

Or rather, a fugitive himself.

He decided to answer her question first, before giving the rest of the details. “There’s something there— something I am in search of.” He paused, his head slowly turning to stare directly at his apprentice. “But it is not just what I’m after. Malachor V is unforgiving, and I’m confident it is a place where your training will accelerate in an environment that better serves you.” He paused for a moment, allowing a chance for his words to settle. “Rather than thinking about what lies ahead, view it as an opportunity to discover who you truly are as a Sith. The shadows that inhabit this planet will test the very ones within you. There you will be tested by the very darkness that you have yet to acknowledge.”

Another pause followed; this time heavier. “You’ll emerge transformed, or die, I’d assume.”

Kasir’s expression then hardened. "The Lord Inquisitor has met his end at a Kaggath," he started, his voice dropping to just above a whisper "And others have already begun to take control of the Inquisition." He leaned forward slightly, contemplating his next words. "While I believe it safe for you here on Jutrand, I cannot say for certain. A short break from Sith space may be wise—for both of us. When the time is right, you may return to the Academy, your training stronger than ever."

Kasir's very essence seemed to change in a heartbeat. His tone would then take on a darker edge. "While many tests and trials will be meant for you to face alone," he said, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the young felacatian, "let it also be known that as long as I stand by your side, outside of them, there isn't a single Sith who would dare lay a finger on you." It was a promise drenched in malice, suggesting protection in a world filled with constantly shifting alliances and loyalties.

With everything said he dropped back on his feet and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m ready to leave,” he stated, the corners of his mouth twitching in what would have been a smirk. “I’ve grown tired of smelling the weakness that this place offers.”

Only a short distance separated the training grounds from his 578-R transport shuttle.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

Soah listened closely, but her attention went deeper than that. She watched Kasir's every shift in stance, the way his gaze sharpened or drifted. What he didn't say was often as revealing as his words. He was searching for something on Malachor V, he'd hinted; a place that could push her limits, challenge her skills in ways the Academy never could. The thought sent a thrill through her, her pulse quickening with a mix of anticipation and something else, a darker curiosity.

But what really caught her was the mention of the Lord Inquisitor, the one Kasir had respected, meeting his end. A Kaggath, he'd called it. She tilted her head, unable to mask her intrigue.

"A Kaggath? What is that?" It wasn't a word she'd heard in the halls of the Academy, and that made it all the more interesting.

Jutrand and the Academy could rot for all she cared, left behind without a backward glance. But when Kasir made his promise -- one that she didn't even ask for -- she found herself unsure how to respond. His voice and stance held the conviction of a vow, a promise that she'd never heard anyone make to her. Not Soah, the loner who trusted no one save her own self for her own survival. Her stomach twisted as she swallowed, pressing her lips into a thin line. She didn't have the words, but somehow, her silence felt more powerful than anything she could have said.

"I am ready, then," she finally replied, her voice steady as she slung her pack over her shoulder. But when her eyes fell on the transport shuttle, her calm wavered. A faint ripple ran through the fine fur at the back of her neck.

Hyperspace. That wretched feeling of being inside something akin to a tin can with nothing but cold death lurking beyond the hull. Her skin prickled with barely restrained anxiety, her body tense, the spines almost prickling her spine in threat of exposing herself.

Clenching her jaw, she forced herself to take a step forward and then another, defying the weight of her own fear. She wouldn't embarrass herself here. Not in front of him. With any luck, the flight would be short, and Malachor would be worth it.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

“A Kaggath,” Kasir began, his brown eyes gleaming with intensity, “in the earliest days, was used to determine leadership and settle disputes. Sith Lords would challenge each other, even involving armies and other resources they possessed, with the goal of complete domination of their opponent.” There was a subtle shake of his head. “A rite of passage if you will, though this time on Jutrand, it was fought between two who were apprentices serving the same master. I would imagine they were once brothers in training, sharing the same ambition. But in the end it was not only their blades that clashed, but their differing philosophies.”

He continued to stand composed before her. "Think of it as a lesson in survival," he began, his voice calm. His arms folded across his chest, his gaze fixed steadily on his apprentice. "Only the strongest will survive." He then pondered his words for a moment, reflecting on his personal allegiance to an individual and his recent contemplation of his commitment to Wonosa. "Ambition can also be a double edged sword," the Sith continued. "You must realize," he said, his eyes locking onto Soah’s, "true strength isn’t only from domination of your opponents, but in knowing when to collaborate and when there is a more opportune moment to strike."

Wasting no further time, Kasir’s boots carried him towards his transport shuttle waiting in the distance. Its metallic surface gleamed under the sun. He walked around to the side, where a series of codes illuminated a screen. There were beeps as he began to press different buttons, and as he completed the final sequence, the shuttle responded. A ramp lowered with a hiss, beckoning them to enter, and he followed it up into the shadowy interior.

He first passed by the cargo bay that resembled more of a holding cell than anything else and followed a series of stairs that would lead to the next level. In the process, he couldn't help but notice the distinct energy radiating from Soah— an energy he had yet to sense from her. He figured it was a response to his mention of the trials that awaited the Felacatian on this journey.

The cockpit of the 578-R radiated with a glow from the control panels, which flickered to life as he approached. Moving into his seat, his fingers worked over them, activating different systems with ease. The engines roared to life; a rumble was felt throughout the shuttle. Kasir checked the navigation systems, ensuring that his coordinates were set, and everything was functioning as it should. He would give Soah a bit of time to do whatever she needed and find a seat somewhere.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

So, a Kaggath was a duel to the death, a ruthless contest that determined who was fit to rule, who was truly worthy of power. Soah found herself intrigued. It was the perfect way to decide things -- no needless debates, no alliances to keep track of, just raw skill and strength. Only the strongest survived, and the weak faded away. It was a clean philosophy, a refreshing one. If this was how Kasir's mentor had fallen, then he simply hadn't deserved to keep his place. The thought gave her a sense of clarity.

"Only the strongest will survive," she muttered, a fierce glint in her eye as her gaze locked on the transport shuttle. She took a deep breath, willing herself to appear unfazed as they moved inside. Every instinct in her screamed to hesitate, but she silenced it, refusing to let a single hint of unease slip through her defenses.

The cargo bay wasn't much to look at -- cold durasteel walls and hard edges that boxed her in like the inside of a Giju can. Her lips pressed into a thin line. She would not show weakness. Kasir headed for the cockpit, leaving her to linger behind, scanning her surroundings to see if there was a seat here. She spotted a seat bolted against the wall and made her way to it, grateful for the slight reprieve from having to watch the viewport.

With any luck, she'd avoid the sight of hyperspace streaking past. She knew the drill -- the flash of white lines, the empty stretch of nothingness. It made her fur crawl. She sank into her seat and closed her eyes, steadying her breath, mentally preparing for whatever Malachor V would bring.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

With a tap of his index finger, he activated the navigation system, inputting the coordinates for Malachor V. As he glanced around, his brow furrowed upon noticing that Soah was still absent. A flicker of concern stirred in the depths of his mind, but he brushed it away, as his senses were still attuned to Felacatian's presence. No doubt brooding somewhere, he mused to himself. After weeks of learning about her, he had managed to develop a vague understanding of her need for solitude.

As the final checks were completed, he ignited the thrusters of the transport shuttle. The ship seemed to awaken, like a powerful beast ready to take flight. Through the viewport, the academy stood, surrounded by spiraling buildings that formed a section of the Sith capital. He was eager to leave it all behind.

With a solid grip on the throttles, he tugged on them, the engines roaring to life and sending a shudder through the ship as it would break free from the ground. As the 578-R quickly ascended, Jutrand faded into a blur. The shuttle sliced through the atmosphere, leaving the planet and all its insignificant inhabitants behind.

As it soared further and further away from the wretched planet, Kasir's mind shifted to the task at hand-- preparing for hyperspace. His hand danced over the hyperdrive controls, as if conjuring a spell. He began to input coordinates, a series of numbers that flashed across the screen like some kind of secret language. With a final series of beeps, the shuttle's system confirmed its readiness. Kasir exhaled, a rare feeling of calm washing over him. He glanced out at the stars from the viewport. With a final pull on the lever, he would activate the hyperdrive.

The stars outside then blurred into streaks, stretching into tunnels, and the transport shuttle leapt forward. Soon he would be able to pass control to the autopilot and leave the cockpit. Typically, Kasir would turn to meditation to pass the long hours of traveling, at least when he was alone. But this time, he couldn't ignore the urge to check his apprentice first, a whisper in the back of his mind suggesting that something was not quite right.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

Soah sank onto the cold metal seat, her jaw clenched as she forced herself to breathe evenly. The familiar dread crept up her spine, prickling her skin and sending the ink-like shadows on her arms into restless ripples. Every nerve screamed at her to shift, to become the massive, anxious instinct driven predator her Felacatian blood yearned to be, especially in hyperspace. But she wouldn't. She'd conquer this.

Closing her eyes, Soah drew in a breath, focusing inward, pulling every ounce of her willpower to the surface along with the skills in the Force and her own emotions to power through it. None the less, her nails dug into her palms, sharp enough that she felt the skin split beneath her claws, tiny crescents that left the metallic tang of blood in the air. The pain grounded her, a reminder of the control she was trying to hold. She didn't let up; she couldn't. Any lapse, any moment of weakness, and she would shift, losing the thin thread of restraint she'd managed to weave.

The sharp scent of copper mixed with her sweat, filling the confined space of the cargo bay. It wouldn't be long before Kasir caught it. But if he did, she'd face that with the same determined resolve, even if now the fine fur over her skin was clammy with sweat. She'd rather bear the bloody reminders on her palms than let him see her give in.

For now, all she could do was hold tight to her resolve, grip tighter, and tell herself she'd make it to Malachor V as herself -- not as the creature clawing beneath the surface.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

As Kasir stepped down from the cockpit with a thud, his enhanced senses took in every detail aboard the transport shuttle. The smell of machinery mixed with that of metal was becoming a more familiar combination. A single flickering light illuminated the hall that he traveled down, his own predatory instincts honing in on the only possible source of anxious energy radiating from the cargo bay.

But unlike the thrill of detecting fear in his prey, there was no satisfaction to be gained from this particular target. And yet, despite his typical calculated demeanor, there was a part of him that oddly enjoyed her presence. While distant with many he crossed paths with, he wouldn’t allow the Felacatian to suffer alone. It was a rare feeling within the depths of his dark existence, and perhaps it was also because she was not tainted by any other doctrine; had she been a Kainite or Eternalist, he would have no qualms about knocking one out cold upon first sight.

Finally reaching the cargo bay, his eyes fell upon her sitting in a small chair in the distance, seemingly lost in a battle taking place within her own mind. No doubt, that was a one many so easily fell prey too, and he recalled having talked to her about such already before when they shared food at the carnival recently, a humiliating event that mocked the Sith’s weakness for all to see on a grand scale.

Comforting others was not a skill he possessed, nor did he believe it would benefit her in any way. But, in rare moments, he knew how to make light of a challenging situation.

Or so he thought.

The stench emanating from her now was completely unbearable, causing even his stoic exterior to break as he revealed his disgust. Kasir wanted to curse himself for becoming a sangnir, even it was the only thing that saved his life in defeat.

He soon chuckled; his eyes gleamed with amusement as he made a rather dramatic gesture. “I can practically smell you from the cockpit. But I guess this new aroma will make it easy to find you no matter how dark the shadows on Malachor V are. I’m certain every Jedi will sense it too when we pass by the Core Worlds.”

His laughter filled the cargo bay. And as it faded away, he shook his head slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across his ghostly pale features. “But truly, Soah, of all battles to face, I would really hate to see you lose to an invisible foe.”

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

Soah had been holding onto a flicker of pride, feeling the weight of control she'd managed to keep so far. It was a fragile thing, but a victory nonetheless, proof of the discipline she'd honed at the Academy and sharpened further under Kasir in the scant time she spent with him. Her dark tattoos stirred restlessly, like inky shadows twisting beneath her skin, only calming when she focused, biting down on the anxiety gnawing at her mind. She was getting somewhere.

But then Kasir's sharp laughter broke through the hum of the engines, slicing through her concentration like a vibroblade. The stench of disgusted mockery twisted on his face, and her hazel eyes narrowed to razor thin orange slits, a fierce, simmering anger flickering to life.

"If you want to talk about scents, how about we discuss your own?" she hissed, voice barely controlled, her fangs glinting under the ship's overhead lights.

"Since when are you so sensitive to the scent of blood?" She shot back

“But truly, Soah, of all battles to face, I would really hate to see you lose to an invisible foe.”

Kasir's sneer in response only deepened the wound.

Soah's grip on her control slipped, her fury sparking an uncontrollable surge beneath her skin. The tattoos writhed, her fangs lengthened, her voice grew deeper - - thick with an accent that was slipping into feral.

No. She had to control it.

Soah clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing. But the stress was too much, her anxiety colliding with the cramped pressure of hyperspace, the walls seeming to close in tighter with every heartbeat. The metallic taste of failure choked her, and in a flash of helpless rage, the control she'd fought for vanished.

A low growl ripped from her throat, and then - - bones snapped, reshaping, stretching, her body morphing with brutal speed into the massive form of a Felacatian predator. Sinewy muscles tensed under thick fur, claws scraped against the durasteel floor with an ear splitting screech, her transformation complete within seconds.

A snarl tore free, her fury aimed at Kasir as she crouched, her elongated fangs bared in a savage hiss. She had no patience left to pretend, no will left to hold back. If he wanted to push her, fine. Now he could deal with the result.

With a deep, furious roar, she lunged, jaws wide, every inch of her rippling with feral rage as she aimed herself straight at him, fully ready to let instinct take over.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

As she fired her first question with determination, he felt more laughter rise within, though her expression indicated she found zero humor in the comment. Still, he couldn't help but feel amusement towards her words. If his scent was so unpleasant, this was the first time she had ever mentioned it to him.

“Surely it isn't nearly as foul as the stench you're giving now. A Rancor probably smells better than you.” His words sliced through the air, and a rare smirk formed at the corner of his mouth.

Kasir’s expression then changed to one of reflection, the smirk fading, suggesting something deeper, like vulnerability. “A story for another time, I’m sure,” he added.

When he saw the Felacatian clenching her fists he instinctively inhaled a sharp breath, preparing for a physical confrontation. But what happened next surprised him, left speechless with eyes widening. The gesture wasn’t one of fear; it was just that he never saw such a thing coming from his apprentice.

The tattoos even moved in a pattern that was foreign to him. A single brow raised to display his surprise. The corners of his mouth suggested disgust.

“Soah?”

The growl felt like a prelude to a rather grotesque, but brief transformation. A cargo bay was much smaller than the training grounds, and he found his weight shift to his back foot.

“What the feth?” The words were but a murmur, most likely drowned out by the high pitched sounds of scraping echoing.

As she lunged forward, he went on the defense, pushing off with his leading foot. His arm swung out from the side, palm forward in a stiff jab. It was a move he had seen hand-to-hand fighters use— those with gloves —to create distance and prevent someone from getting too close. It was just enough force against the jaw to push the Felacatian’s head to the side, and hopefully not lose any fingers in the process.

“What the feth are you doing?” Just as the words escaped his mouth he had turned on his heel and took off towards the staircase, planning to head straight for the upper deck. He blended effortlessly into the shadows, relying on the Force to cloak his physical presence. Unfortunately, he was certain she would pick up on his scent.

The idea of playing hide and seek in the shadows on his own ship was bizarre. Now he would have to use a Force power she hated: telepathy.

<Consider this your one and only warning.>

A lie.

<If you leave the cargo bay like that, I will turn you into space dust.>

Another lie.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

Soah's massive feline body sailed off to the right, Kasir's swing of his arm successfully derailed the predatory Felacatian's attempt at taking a bite out of him in response to his continued taunts.

The sound of grating durasteel as six-inch-long claws went slicing thick trenches across the floor was enough to make anyone's head split. Soah did not respond verbally, not when she had shifted in this form. She was incapable of it, but she certainly could still think rationally.

So when Kasir made his threats telepathically -- much to her utter disgust -- the irritated growl from her massive maw, nostrils flaring. He had disappeared, but he was still here. The question is, where was he?

She took a deep intake of breath, nostrils flaring, trying to sense through scent where he could be.

< Turn me to space dust? > Her voice would permeate through the Force, as much as she hated to talk like this, it was necessary. Pearly white massive fangs as she swung her massive feline head left and right.

< Not before I take a bite out of you. >

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

While awaiting a response, the only thing that greeted him was another deep growl from her savage form. His eyes narrowed as the claws continued scraping the ground, echoing throughout the transport shuttle. But soon her voice came, but rather than through a voice, it was directly in his mind. Kasir knew she hated this form of communication, and felt it to be an indication of how furious she truly was.

Kasir thrived on conflict and violence, always eager to engage in any form of battle, but this felt different. His mind raced. Whatever was to come of this, he knew he did not want her near the engine room.

He prowled through the darkness, his movements soundless as he descended into the main hold. This was a place he rarely ventured, filled with different containers of all shapes and sizes. He snatched one made of polyplast, rather than dursasteel.

How he would convince her to leave this reckless state without harming the girl was beyond him in the current moment. Had it been any other Sith, he would already have drawn his saberstaff to quickly dispose of them. However, Soah had a strange pull on him, evoking his protective instincts like a guardian.

Releasing the shadows that masked his appearance, he would stand a short, but safe distance away from her now. There was a deft shake of the container in his hand, making sure he had her attention. “If you cannot master your anger, then I will put you down like the mindless beast that you are.”

A single step was taken forward. “Do not attempt to bite me again; I won’t hesitate to put you in your place.” He then twisted his hips with practiced precision, readying himself to strike. The polyplast container was swung upward in the air before bringing it back down, aimed directly for the Felacatina’s head.

Though its brittleness wouldn't be effective whether it landed or ended up being deflected, it was the message he wanted to send.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

“If you cannot master your anger, then I will put you down like the mindless beast that you are.”

A deep growl reverberated from Soah's throat at that, aware that Kasir was right that if she couldn't master her anger, then she was no better than the wild beasts who could not forge themselves into the ultimate predator.

< Mindless... I would say I was rather deliberate on where I was attempting to take a pound of flesh. >

Soah shot back, nostrils flaring, the upper lip of her maw curling up; the massive feline head swung over towards the direction the Sith Knight revealed himself. Even under the light of the transport, one could see that the inky shadows carved across her dusky skin now seemed to tint the dark fur, moving around her powerful musculature, almost as if floating off of her in barely tangible smoke.

< So not a bite... how about a light jab of sharp teeth to hold you in place?>

The polyplast container came down fast, a testament to the Knight's quick skills, but as he was ahead of her when he acted, the Felacatian was able to pick up on the movement, although she wasn't that fast enough. The strike hit her hard against the bridge of her right eye, sending a shaft of pain down her skull.

Rage filled her, and she immediately bounded on her hind legs, powerful pistons jolting her forward as the Felacatian attempted to pin the Knight onto the very ground.

Well, he did say not to bite -- nothing about pinning him to the ground.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

When Soah lunged forward with incredible speed, her powerful frame appeared as a blur when colliding with him. It would’ve been difficult for the mortal eye to follow. Her sharp claws raked against his chest, cutting through the tunic and drawing several lines of blood. The Sith staggered back, overwhelmed by the sheer force released from a short distance.

For the first time since his embrace as a sangnir, wounds were inflicted upon his pale skin. However, the bleeding slowed to a trickle within a matter of seconds. His dark orbs were glowing with predatory gleam. But under the fury of them, was a hint amusement. He felt a surge of supernatural strength flood his body. Senses were sharpened, and everything around him slowed down.

The flowing blood, darker than it was when he was human, finally began to clot. The sensation was intoxicating and unsettling, a reminder of his dark gift.

Kasir could feel the weight of the beast’s body pressing down upon him. He grasped the Felacatian's forearms with an iron grip, feeling the raw strength and tension of her muscles beneath the fur as she attempted to assert dominance. A smirk twisted his lips, the moisture upon them suggesting the allure of his thirst for blood. He was still learning to control it, but now found it to be more challenging than ever. With a hiss, he bared his own fangs, threatening to unleash his primal instincts if necessary.

Drawing upon the inhuman strength that surged through his veins, he twisted her forearms with a grace, using her momentum to throw her off balance, and broke free from her grip. In a smooth motion he rose to his feet, taking a defensive stance. “Your strength is impressive. But uncontrolled it is useless. This path you’re on now, it is a destructive one. Speak to me of your fears and anger, so that I can help you master them.” But even as he spoke these very words, Kasir was bracing for the next attack. "But if you truly believe that your fury is the only answer," he murmured, "then unleash the full extent of it on me."

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

The coppery tang of blood filled Soah's nostrils, her chest expanding with a deep inhale as her satisfaction swelled. She had drawn first blood. Again. The feral smirk that tugged at her elongated fangs vanished as something shifted, subtly at first but undeniably. The thick, maroon liquid trailing down Kasir's skin wasn't... right. Its scent told a story unlike anything she had smelled before.

Before he could hurl her massive frame off him, she leaned in closer, inhaling deeply. Her predatory instincts flared with the unmistakable truth: this wasn't human blood. No, it was something... different.

Then came the other signs. The darkening of Kasir's eyes into endless, depthless pools. The sharp glint of lengthened fangs. A surge of strength that radiated through his frame and sent her sprawling before she could react. He had become something else. Sorcery, the Force, or some alchemical trick -- it didn't matter. He was stronger now. Every inch the predator she was, if not more.

Soah's massive form tumbled but caught itself effortlessly midfall. Landing with precision, she splayed her crimson stained claws against the durasteel floor, a loud screech echoing through the cargo hold. Her ears twitched, her muscles coiled for another strike, but instead, she let out a low, gruff laugh that seemed to echo in the space -- and in Kasir's mind.

<Well, well, well... you have changed. Your blood confirms it.> Her voice was rough edged, amused, slipping into the strange, telepathic link her Felacatian instincts provided in this form. Her tail swayed lazily, brushing the ground like a whisper of danger.

<Speak of fear and anger, yes. But tell me, Kasir... can you control the beast you've made yourself into? Or will it consume you first?>

Her glowing citrine eyes locked onto his, sharp and calculating, searching for the cracks in his resolve. She wanted to test him. To see if the strength he claimed was truly his or borrowed by something far darker than even he understood.

But she didn't attack. Not yet. Instead, Soah sank back onto her haunches, her bulk settling with surprising grace as shadows danced over her powerful frame. Her tail flicked, her claws left faint scratches against the floor as if to remind him she could pounce at any moment. For now, though, she simply watched, her hunger for blood and battle momentarily replaced by curiosity.

The fight had done its job. The gnawing anxiety of hyperspace that had threatened to swallow her whole earlier had been obliterated, replaced by a far more tantalizing prospect. Whatever Kasir had become... it was something worth watching. Maybe even worth challenging.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

The sangnir lifted a hand across the ripped tunic, the tips of his fingers collecting several drops of crimson contents and then bringing it to his own lips. It was the first time he tasted his own. The hunger for more felt like a whisper on the edges of his dark mind. Fortunately, such necessities were already something he had calculated before they departed from Jutrand.

“My fate remains in my hands, unlike the vermin beneath me.”

Kasir now exuded an eerie calm; his sharp fangs glimmered. Her words earlier managed to ignite a flicker of anger deep within, one she might have even detected by now. He picked up on the faintest sounds, even the rustle of her tail against the ground; it was a reminder of the primal instincts they both carried. One a predator, the other a creature of the night.

"Watch your step, Soah," he murmured. The threat in his voice was clear. "I've shown mercy when I should have unleashed my wrath. That is my greatest mistake with you thus far." A cruel smile played on his lips. "My offer was to guide you, not control you. Maybe you have forgotten that."

His enhanced senses soon heard the rhythm of her heart, every beat echoing in his mind. While he already told himself she wouldn’t be a victim, the pull to sink his fangs into flesh was felt, nonetheless. But he fought to keep himself in check, believing he was fully capable of restraint. Then his Sith instincts flared to life, feeling the currents of air around them. The transport shuttle was filled with tension, as the potential for violence lingered. The dual nature was a constant battle, the hunger for sustenance, and then the need for control and dominance.

The Sith began to approach her. Each step he took was calculated. “Will you give in to your own primal urge then?” He continued to close the distance between them, his dark orbs fixed on her every movement and noting every detail around her. The flick of her tail, the scratches her claws left on the floor, the most minor shift of her evolved and powerful frame—all were under a predatory gaze. “If so, I expected an immediate strike, not this.. holding back. I know the thrill of the hunt still courses through you. Even now.” He paused so the words could settle. “I know you want it-–the chase, the kill."

Though his words suggested more conflict, he deepened his focus and began to use the Felacatian’s heartbeat as a point of calm in the brewing storm, fueled by his vow to protect her.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

The growl rumbled deep in Soah's chest, vibrating through her massive frame like the hum of a starship engine about to ignite. Her claws scraped once more against the durasteel floor as her tail lashed behind her, sharp spikes glinting under the cargo bay's dim light. Kasir's words, low and measured, stoked the embers of her primal pride, challenging her not just as a Sith but as a predator.

His calm infuriated her, but it also thrilled her. That cruel smile, the way his blackened eyes tracked her every move -- Kasir wasn't bluffing. He meant every word, and that sent a rush of adrenaline through her that she couldn't ignore.

<You think you know me so well, Kasir?> Her voice echoed in his mind, a sharp, snarling retort laced with teenage arrogance and the shadowy resonance of her tattoos' sentience. The inky designs rippled across her massive feline shoulders, shifting with her heightened emotions, twisting into jagged, chaotic shapes.

Even as he stepped closer, deliberate and unyielding, and Soah lifted her head, ears flattening against her head as her hackles rose.

"Mercy?" she spat aloud, her a voice thick accented growling blend of her Felacatian form and her own simmering anger.

<You think that's what this is? That you've spared me something? > She crouched low, coiling the powerful muscles in her legs. Her golden, slit pupil eyes locked onto him with the intensity of a hunter sizing up its prey.

The faint coppery tang of blood still lingered in the air, both a reminder of her earlier strike and a maddening tease of what she could unleash again. Kasir's steps were steady, unhurried, and he didn't flinch under her gaze. That only fueled her need to assert herself. She had to prove to him and to herself , that she could match this new version of him.

<Fine,> she sent through the Force, her mental voice sharper than a vibroblade.

< Let's see if this beast you've made can handle the real thing,> she growled in her mind, baring her fangs as her tattoos rippled again, sharpening into jagged black thorns along her shoulders. Her claws flexed against the floor, the sound like blades on metal. Hyperspace anxiety forgotten, Soah was here, now, fully alive in the fight.

She didn't wait for him to answer. This time, she lunged low, aiming to take out his legs. Her powerful hind legs launched her forward in a blur of dark fur, claws, and shadow. Her leap was fueled by instinct, precision, and pure teenage confidence -- reckless and wild. If Kasir wanted to test her, she'd make him regret it -- or at least, that was what she told herself.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Soah Ty’Jyn

The telepathic messages continued to echo in his mind. The Sith could sense her every thought, her every intention, as if he could read every movement like some kind of script from a Lorekeeper. The tattoos were a language of their own, pulsing with energy he had slowly come to understand better in recent weeks. They were like emotions moving as a storm now.

It was clear that she was filled with anger; it was fierce, and unfortunately, untamed. Now it threatened to consume them both.

As his apprentice crouched low, there was a small shift in his own stance, one foot moving back. It was adopted from his studies of hand to hand fighters, often employed to make themselves a smaller target. However, in truth, it wouldn’t prove to be of much use against the giant feline if her attack landed— it was simply done out of muscle memory.

Though she may not know it, much of this was a new experience for Kasir as well—taking someone under his wing and investing so much time and effort. It was a learning process for the Sith assassin. This varied greatly from his role under the Lord Inquisitor, where he lived a life of solitude and carried out tasks with ruthless efficiency.

While the Felacatian’s eagerness was frustrating, it was equally intoxicating. It reminded him of the very hunger that had once drawn him down the same path of the dark side. Kasir’s brown orbs flickered with malice as he felt Soah’s challenge through the currents of the Force. He could nearly taste the electricity in the cargo bay.

It was a prelude to the violence that was about to unfold.

The Sith began to hate the tendrils of empathy that threatened to wrap around his black heart. For she was still but a lost kid to him, one devoid of any true guidance, much like himself before. And in her, he often saw his own reflection.

The path of the dark side requires this of me. Strength through power. Power through fear.

With a pivot on his heel, he moved like a shadow, side stepping the advancement that went straight for his legs. There was grace in the simple movement. In a heartbeat, he would attempt to counter with a fierce strike; his dominant hand cut through the air. Instead of targeting her head, he aimed for the body— it was a choice of desiring to disable or stun, rather than kill, clearly another reflection of his inner turmoil. The execution was flawless, building power through the kinetic chain; it started from the floor, and was transferred from his hips to the fist. It was completed with a faint exhale, rather than holding his breath, with intent of channeling as much raw strength as possible. His head dipped ever so slightly, making sure he didn't leave his chin on a silver platter. The offhand lifted, shielding the side of his face.

While the action was meant to inflict pain, he also wanted it to carry a lesson. And though he may have appeared confident under his stoic facade, a wave of malevolence churned within, despising that he was driven to this, forced into something he had always sought to avoid.

 

[Soah Ty’Jyn]

Interacting with: Kasir Dorran

​

The force of Kasir's strike slammed into her ribs, driving the air from her lungs with a sharp yelp that escaped her muzzle before she could stifle it. The blow wasn't lethal, but it carried the weight of his frustration and the undeniable strength of his new form. Soah barely had time to process the shock before she was pinned, his grip ironclad and unforgiving.

The cold durasteel pressed against her side as she struggled beneath him, claws scrabbling for purchase but finding none. Her growl turned into a guttural hiss, her fangs bared in defiance even as her chest heaved to draw in air. The shadows of her tattoos rippled violently now, erratic patterns spiraling over her fur as though they, too, fought against the constraint.

This isn't over, she spat through the Force, her mental voice as sharp and fiery as the pain that radiated through her side. She twisted against his hold, testing his grip, but his strength was absolute. The realization stung as much as the strike itself. He had her -- completely and without question.

Her eyes, twin pools of citrine fire, narrowed at him, glowing with a mixture of fury and begrudging respect. Kasir's face loomed above her, shadowed and unyielding, his expression betraying none of the inner turmoil she knew must be raging beneath the surface. He was more than just her match now; he was something far beyond her current reach.

<You made your point, > she growled out in her mind, her voice gravelly and strained but still brimming with defiance. < You're stronger. You're faster. Congratulations. >

The sarcasm in her tone was a weak mask for the flicker of frustration gnawing at her pride. She hated this -- being pinned, being outmatched. But she hated even more that part of her was thrilled by the challenge, by the proof that she still had so much to learn.

Still, the lesson burned in her chest like a brand. Every strike, every movement, was imprinted in her mind. She would remember this -- the precision of his counter, the way he turned her strength against her, the power in his movements that made her own feel clumsy in comparison.

Her growl softened into a quiet, grudging laugh, her sharp fangs glinting in the dim light -- her voice thickly accented but getting easier to understand, "I hope you're enjoying this," she said, her voice low and edged with teenage bravado. "Because next time, it won't be so easy."

Even as she spoke, though, she could feel her body settling, the primal fury that had fueled her earlier fading under the weight of exhaustion and defeat. Tension left her body and then right under Kasir, the massive Feline began to shift back into the young teenager. For now, she would concede -- but only for now.