Bowling For Siths [Tikzha]

[Josh Dragovalor]

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Password Accepted, Welcome Master DragonsFlame, How May I Help You?

Planet Search Functions Activated...

Planet Name: Unknown, Outer Rim
Slavery: Illegal
Slave Trade: Illegal
Detected Slave Camps: 1
Detected "Waffle Joints": 6

Mission Start


The new version of the "Final Dragon", newly christianed after the Jedi Master's longtime vessel had been retired in favor of a more necessary model for his work now, had already dropped down onto the planet quite some time ago. But where was the Jedi Master? He hadn't wasted any time, he'd spent days trying to track down the slave camp on the planet... Now, he'd finally found them. There was no going back now.

Garbed in a brown cloak, covering his body and hood covering his head, the Jedi Master made his way, on foot, toward the slave camp that was just a few miles away. He could already see it in the distance... Just up the hill now. His eyes were fierce, determined, as the Jedi Master marched toward the camp with purpose... They would never see him coming. Everything from his demeanor, his attitude, to the way he handled things.... Everything changed when it came to slavers. They were un-redeemable... He'd tried. No matter how many times they were arrested, they had it in their damn heads that they deserved to take people as objects, as property, as slaves... To sell and trade or make them do their bidding at risk of death, slapping collars on them like animals... It disgusted him. None of them would be leaving alive.

Of course, his main plan was to free the slaves trapped within, and unlock their slave collars. But this time, the slavers wouldn't be going to jail. When they did, he always met them again... And everytime he did, they used more ruthless means. Holding slaves by gunpoint, sometimes even just killing them outright when they knew they'd be arrested, out of spite. They cared nothing for human life, and they had destroyed his every attempt to be merciful and compassionate when it came to their ilk. The only way to save innocent lives now was to end wicked ones, in this case. His face, under the hood, carried no emotion.

There is no emotion, there is peace.


[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Sentinents, animals, there was no difference in Darth Ophidia's eyes. They all bred, they all shat, they all et, and they all died. Just because people walked on two legs and thought they were something, didn't mean they were. Dog bites dog, man enslaves man. It was nature in the works, nothing more and nothing less. Those who cried foul were only holding on to delusion of grandeur: That they were somehow better than the rest. In the end, it only pushed slavery and crime into the shadows and the fringe. All sentients were destructive beings, and the one thing they feared the most was to lose their power to build and destroy.

Then again, the Aspect of Death was not there to free or keep slaves. No, she was there to meet a slaver. Not a slaver she liked, a slaver who owed her something. A slaver that had to go. First, she paid off the guards. They were to look away. A handful of credits got one a long way in the slaver business. Some would remain loyal, but at the very least she had halved the slaver's guard with her payment. If there was to be a riot, who were then to stop them?


Unlike [member="Joshua DragonsFlame"], Darth Ophidia landed on the official landing pad and walked through the camp with her head held high. She was expected, that much was sure. When a Lady of the Sith visits, you show your best: Shiny armours, loaded blasters, and only the prettiest slaves out in the open. The Rattataki strode down the landing-pad of her ship. Her hands were clasped behind her back and her bald head reflected dimly the light of the sun. Soft leather boots trod into the soil as she looked around at the compound.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

The slavers had not arrived to greet [member="Darth Ophidia"] just yet, it seemed. There were no witnesses, but it wouldn't be long before they'd be there to hail her. Most likely, she'd arrived a little early, that's all. Luckily for Josh DragonsFlame, who once he had snuck into the camp, had been hiding in the shadows, making his way through the compound in search of the slaves. His own plan had been to free them, and send them scurrying to a determined safe place for him to meet them once he had gained the keys to their collars. He didn't intend to leave until the slavers were cleared out though... Whether they ran on their own merits, or he killed them himself. He wouldn't hunt them down and kill them, if he didn't have to. If they ran... More power to them. No need to kill a helpless opponent. But if he had to defend himself... Well, tough chit for them.

The ship had arrived before he'd arrived in the compound, and he hadn't seen it arrive. He didn't realize until he was in the center of the compound, and his eyes, from under the hood, fixed on a figure that due to the obstructions of the hood, he didn't recognize. But he could tell one thing, by the force presence... It was a Sith.

He didn't know what was worse. Slavers, or Sith that worked with slavers and likely kept slaves themselves. Probably the latter. But the last thing he was going to do was let a Sith stop him from liberating the slaves. Quickly, his lightsaber would find it's way to his hand... And he waited for the moment of attack, allowing a quick pause for a moment... But never keeping his eyes off his opponent. To him, this was a life or death situation. And he wasn't going to be stopped now...

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Keeping slaves was not to Ophidia's taste. Not because they were "worth more" or any such nonsense; she simply did not find use for them. They could provide her with nothing a good droid could not. They demanded far more food and rest than a droid did. Not to mention, they would inevitably try to escape or revolt. Perhaps if she had any drive towards carnal pleasures, she would've wanted one. On the other side, she did not oppose the slave-trade. People were always looking to feel powerful by keeping others in their possession, and she supposed there were some tasks sentients were more suited to. Again, if she wished such a task performed, she could always command an Acolyte to do it in her stead. The poor things were always looking to prove themselves.

A tall, gaunt-faced Zygerrian strode towards Darth Ophidia as she stepped onto the planet. With an deep bow, he greeted her and she returned the favour with a slight flare of her nostrils and a vague curl at the corners of her mouth. Such was the difference between them.

"My Lady. I welcome you to the establishment of the great and gracious-"

"Spare me the drivel and take me to him."

"A-as you wish, my Lady"

She interjected with a sternness that painted a different image of her from the one she had portrayed in the Bar, that one time they had met. This was not Tikzha the bar patron; this was Darth Ophidia, Lady of the Sith and Shadow of the Dark Lord. Her robes were different this time. Instead of her battle-worn bes'kar, she wore a formal robe of black silk. A cape flapped in her wake as she strode through the compound, her burning eyes fixed ahead. Yet, she felt each and every one of the pathetic creatures surrounding her. Every sweating guard, every frightened slave, every angered escapee. She felt their hopelessness, their fear, their anger, and most importantly: Their hate. Oh what succulent hatred.

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

She hadn't seen him, nor had the slavers. Looks like he'd gotten lucky this time. This wasn't because of his skill in stealth, he'd made a mistake, and he was lucky to find no consequences in it. He cursed himself a bit as he would slide back into hiding. Quickly, he would relax himself, as he would disappear from sight. The White Current was useful... To an extent. He was invisible, and couldn't be sensed in the Force... But he wasn't like Aleidis, who specialized. He was a combat specialist, he knew that. If he attacked someone, he would have to become visible again, or it'd just drain his energy too quickly and he'd become visible anyway. He decided to watch... This Sith problem changed the situation entirely. He watched as someone hailed the Sith, and decided to tail them once they got moving.

Hopefully, this Sith would be able to take him to whoever was in charge. If he could dispatch both the leader and the Sith Lord, he'd be far ahead of the game, and the rest of the slavers would fall into place - one by one - to either run or be cut down while he made an easy bid to saving and freeing the slaves. He just had to get this right....

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Ophidia followed the delegate inside the more lavish building reserved for the slavers. All around her she saw their finest slaves put on display. Some were dancing in perches, some allowed to rest in a pose. Some entertained and served guests in every fashion imaginable. Her burning eyes scanned the room disinterestedly, picking up on the faces around. She saw the odd politician, a number of bounty hunters, slavers and various ruffians. At the end of the lavish hall was the place of the slave-master's seat. All around him lay the finest slaves in a multitude of species, some of which she recognised, some she had not seen in person before. Her curiosity did not leave any visible trace on her person, however. Her face was a stoic mask of ash grey, broken only by her malevolent eyes and the black markings adorning the sides of her head. Her eyes rested on the master of the slave-hold: Mardo D'zar. From a slouched position, playing with a many-tailed whip, the large Zygerrian raised his eyes to look at the guest and immediately righted himself on his seat rather uncomfortably. There was a moment of silence; the Sith Lord set her eyes on her host, but did not speak. It was the subordinate who would hail the superior. After a near minute of silence, he knuckled under.

"Ah Darth... Yes. I have not expected you. I apologise. Please have a seat"

Hurriedly, the Zygerrian snapped his fingers in the air. Which set in motion a myriad of slaves and ordinary workers to make the Sith comfortable. She accepted the seat, but rejected the refreshments and company. Seated, she resumed her silent stare.

"I... To what do I owe this honour? It is rare that a Sith Lord- Eeh lady- comes all the way out here to our humble establishment"

At last, for the first time since entering, Ophidia blinked slowly and parted her lips to speak. Her dry voice was not the booming intimidation many found stereotypical with the Sith. Nor was it particularly hateful or malevolent in sound. Yet there was venom in her words.

"You know full well why I am here, Mardo D'zar. I suggest you hand it over immediately and discretely."

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

Cloaked in the Current, immune to the senses of any but a fellow Current user, The Jedi Master would tail behind the unidentified Sith Lord and her associates. The entire way, his eyes gazed upon every slave here, the gears turning every second, every fleeting moment. He wasn't going to leave here until every single slave in here was free - and if necessary - the slavers in here were dead. He wouldn't show them mercy... It was rare that he acted like this, but with slavers... Well, he couldn't take any risks. Not anymore. He'd do what he needed to do - kill slavers in order to save innocents. It went against what he stood for, but... What choice did he have?

They would soon find themselves in front of what he assumed to be the slavemaster. Part of him considered unveiling himself now, but he knew that he'd be outnumbered. He needed to start with the advantage somehow to make up for the fact he was severely outnumbered. It'd be nice if he could fight while in this form, but it was downright impossible. He was pretty sure Aleidis could, back in the day... But her combat skills were sub-par at best in exchange since she specialized in the Current, the opposite of Joshua who at one point had been one of the most skilled fighters the Republic Jedi Order had, going toe to toe with Sith Lords before he even reached the Master rank himself. He was known for his ferocity, his fearlessness, a lack of care for the strength of the opposition, he'd fight with every last breath for what he believed in.

But that was the past now. Now, he was a lone warrior fighting for what he believed in without the Jedi's help. So now he needed to figure out a way to deal with not just the slavers, but a Sith Lord...

He decided to stay cloaked and allow this to play out. He was interested in what business this Sith had with the slave lord... While he tried to keep from thinking of how he was going to cut out his throat.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

The Zygerrian slaver shifted uncomfortably in his chair and tugged at his collar. His eyes shifted to the bounty-hunters around, and a small smile spread over his lips. He made a few subtle gestures with his fingers and righted himself in the chair before giving the Sith a nonchalant glare.

"And what if I refuse? What can you do!? You're outnumbered scutta! You are in my domain!"

He spat at the tiles in front of her and threw himself onto his legs with an accusing finger pointed at the claked woman. The bounty-hunters jumped out of their seats, and a number of the guards rallied to arms. Quite a few backed slowly out of the building, prizing their lives and a handful of credits over loyalty in defiance of the Sith Empire.

"I will make you my personal Sith-whoAAAARRRGHHH!"

An audible crunch sounded from his finger as it flattened as if in a vice. Darth Ophidia was clenching her thumb and index-finger to help herself apply pressure on this insolent traitor's digit. First he screamed, and then he started to gurgle and gasp for air as the Sith Lord extended her hand into a choking motion. Her eyes burned with hatred as she applied pressure on his throat, and the bounty hunters stalled.

"One step, and I will rip his head off! Then, none of you will receive pay. Shoot, and I will use my dying breath to call down an army upon this place and see that it burns! Breathe, and I will destroy you."

Her eyes turned back to her choking, feline victim. Her left hand made a cupping motion and her fingers clenched. Suddenly, Mardo gave a different pitch to his gasping.

"As for you Mardo. Give me what you want, or face my wrath"

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

Spoiler

Sorry for the lateness. I almost forgot about this thread.

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

And what was the Jedi Master doing? Enjoying the show, kicked up on a nearby chair. He knew that there wasn't much he could do for the moment... But he watched in interest, waiting for his opportunity. He watched as the woman - who's voice he could almost swear he recognized - began an argument with the slaver, and before long, as it usually did when it came to Sith Lords, it would turn to violence.

Part of him considered stepping in... But knowing just what kinds of monsters these slavers were.... Well, they and the Sith weren't much better then the other. He figured that if he intervened now, they would unite temporarily... But if he were to wait until after this had blown up, or after the Sith left... Then perhaps he'd be able to capitalize and free the slaves.

For now, he would wait. The less that he did in this invisible state, the less energy he conserved...

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

The bounty hunters exchanged looks. Would they chance it? There would be a hefty sum to whomever shot down the Sith. A tension rand through the room as some weapons were lowered, and others brought on point against the woman in black. Darth Ophidia's eyes surveyed the room as she lowered the cupping hand and ran it lightly over her sash, where her lightsabre was hidden.

"Do you think you can take me on? If so, bring it!"

Shots fired, but bounced off a transparent shield as the Sith dropped her victim and flattened her palm in a defensive position. Through her shield, she employed tutaminis to recycle the energy of the blasters and feed her defence. Thus reducing the tax on her own reserves of energy. Not all the shots were absorbed, and bounced off to strike the walls, columns and ceilings around. Slaves howled and cowered, while bounty-hunters sought cover. Soon, blasters stopped firing as smoke and dust cleared. The Sith had vanished.

Her presence was everywhere and nowhere, as if an evil shadow enveloped the room. Her physical form was gone from sight and sound. Then came a flash of red light, followed by the scream of a Rodian bounty hunter. Then, one of the other bounty hunters' grenade went off in his belt, scattering blood and smoke across the room. In the smoke and bloody mist, there was a drag as though something passed through it, and the bounty hunters begun firing. Another flash of red and a momentary black figure, and one of the bolts returned to its sender's leg. Then the figure vanished again. Another red flash, and the last three of the bounty hunters that had fired at her fell to the ground with smouldering wounds.

The woman reappeared on the slave-master's chair. Blood on her clothes and a few new holes in her cape. Sweat had appeared on her forehead, but she did not appear overly taxed as she drummed her gloved digits on the armrests of the elaborate chair.

"Now, where is she Mardo?"

"I..."

Mardo glared at the woman in his seat as he crawled up to his knees, holding his right index finger tightly.


[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

The time was near, the dissension was evident. The slavers had apparently taken someone that the Sith wanted back. One of their own slaves, perhaps, or something more? But yet.... There was something.... Familiar about the woman, in her presence, in her voice... But he just couldn't place his finger on it.

He had to wonder... Just what had the slavers done to piss this Sith off? Was this a personal reason? He didn't know... He couldn't tell. All he could do was watch and wait for it to unfold. His hands twitched, being around so many slavers and not cutting them down was driving him crazy. He had watched these monsters enslave hundreds of people.... And kill them without even a second thought. He despised the fact that he could not attack now... But he knew that he had to.

If he was lucky, perhaps the Sith girl would even cut some of them down.... Though he noted that one of the remaining slavers seemed to have an itchy trigger finger... A twitch, of sorts.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"I-I-I"

The sarcasm in the woman's voice was palpable as she copied Mardo's sniveling.

"Quit your stalling you pathetic creep."

Fury furrowed on the fat Zygerrian's face as she mocked him. He scrambled to his feet and faced her, donning a whole new attitude of toughness. A smile spread over the Sith's lips as she rose from the chair and returned the confrontation. Swiping a hand over her head, she pulled her hood down, exposing her bald, ashen head so that she could better square up against Mardo. Her smile showed both genuine enjoyment and a cruel mischief as she stood toe to toe, nose to snout with the slave-master.

"Oh Mardo, it seems you were not spayed after all. Now, hand her over before I show you some real pain."

This time, there was a flirt in her voice, but no love in those dangerous eyes. She brushed a hand over the Zygerrian's neck-fur, which made the feline man jerk away in disgust.

"Hizdo, bring this schutta her prize-girl." Mardo shouted to the side before looking once more at the Sith "Our contract is over. Next time, I will have you gutted."

"Sounds like a party, I will bring some friends."

Mardo was about to retort when a girl covered entirely in rags was hauled in chains and dropped next to Ophidia. The two Zygerrians looked at Mardo, then at the Rattataki. Ophidia shot them both a nod. One, a female, put a whistle in her mouth, while the other, a male, drew his energy whip and lashed it onto Mardo's neck. Pandemonium broke out as the guards Ophidia had paid off turned on their masters by the blow of the whistle. Mardo screamed and stared in disbelief at his own brother's betrayal, as evident by the burning whip around his neck.
"Hizdo..."

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

And the plot thickened.

So they had someone that this Sith wanted. But even when the Sith got who she wanted, it appeared as though there was unfinished business. Quickly, the slavemasters own men would turn against him, even his own brother. How funny, really... He'd seen his own share of sibling rivalry. His own brother was in the Sith....

But as some of the slavers men would turn on him, there was still plenty more that the slavemaster had, and they would begin to open fire on their former comrades, as well as the Sith Lord. The one who seemed to have an itchy trigger finger earlier couldn't wait any longer and instantly opened fire on Ophidia, the blaster bolt whizzing by her ear, missing her just barely. It would bounce off a mirror, before flying back - right to where the Jedi Master had been cloaked.

He had no choice. Josh would have to immediately end his use of the White Current in order to defend himself, becoming visible again as he would instantly ignite his lightsaber, the blue blade humming as he would quickly bat away the blaster bolt aimed at him. He had been noticed, of course, and it would become a free for all battle. Some firing at their rivals, some at the Sith Lord, and some at the Jedi. The first one to fire at the Jedi was the trigger finger Twi'lek who had fired first at Ophidia. Josh would quickly take off at a run, his hood obstructing his head and face as he would charge his opponent. There would be no mercy here, every single man here was a slaver, and for them, he would spare no lives... He had to end these cruel ones in order to save the innocent ones. Josh would bat away the blaster bolt with his lightsaber, before leaping into the air, the Twi'lek letting out a scream as the Jedi Master would loop off his head without hesitation, full survival instincts in effect. The closest person to him then, was Ophidia, who he didn't recognize and probably wouldn't without being able to look properly at her. His own force presence was different from what she might have remembered back on that one planet, it always seemed to have a different wavelength when he was fighting, as though he were a completely different person. Knowing that it was likely she would strike at him - being a Jedi and all - he would quickly slash at Ophidia himself, aiming for her shoulder. He had to survive, he had to see this mission through.

The lives of innocents depended on it, no matter who or what he had to fight.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"Et tu, Brute." She followed up with a mocking laugh "Yes, this is all quite touching, b-"

The bolt of plasma swished past her head so close she could feel the heat of it. Her little input to the family drama was cut short as she was rudely interrupted. Then again, such was to be expected by bounty hunters. Then, the emergence of a presence. An assassin by trade, and a damn good one at that, Darth Ophidia knew when a Jedi was in the room. Especially when he was not just a second before. Some would expect a sense of fear for such an instance. This one experienced only a heightened sense of space-awareness and urgency.

"Hizdo, take the girl to the ship. Have them ready for take-off. Now!" No-one interrupts my monologue

Ophidia's bloodshine blade quickly disposed of Mardo with a flicking cut through the Zygerrian's neck. Leaving the head not quite separated from the body, but hanging on by a strip of cauterised flesh. She then stepped into the way of anyone who would follow Hizdo as he grabbed the cloaked slave and hurriedly tugged her with him outside. The guards were busy fighting each-other and the bounty hunters for control of the place, and thus did not stand in his way as he fled. Hizdo momentarily thought of fleeing the planet proper, but knew he would not be paid if he did. He would watch and see if the Sith would emerge victorious. The die was cast.

The Rattataki carried on the movement of her blade to bat away those blaster-shots that came into threatening her. She continuously batted them in the direction of the Twi'lek that had first opened fire on her, and as she saw the Jedi decapitate him, she knew at once she was next on the Jedi's list. They would never leave a Sith to roam if they could help it. Ophidia was ready to dance. She did not care who he was, he had interfered with business. As his slash came for her shoulder, she stepped to the side and riposted with a darting thrust at Joshua's chest.

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

The Jedi would let the slave girl go. Since she was one of the people he had showed up to free anyway, if this Sith's troops were able to get her to safety, seeming as the Sith Lord apparently seemed to value her, she would most likely be better off. He hoped so, anyway... You couldn't always trust a Sith. But that wasn't the point right now, the point right now was that the Jedi Master knew that he was in deep, deep trouble. His plan to infiltrate the slave camp, take out the slavers and free the slaves amongst the chaos of this little feud between this Sith Lord and the slavers had been destroyed the moment that the Jedi Master's cover had been blown when he was forced to defend himself. Had he been an adept at the White Current, like Je'gan, or Aleidis Ijet, there was a possibility that he could have kept his cover. But as stated earlier, his focusing on his fighting skills came at the price of only a minimal knowledge of the Current, and if he had trained to be more adept, then he would be next to useless in a direct fight. A glass cannon, of sorts. He remembered Aleidis well... She was skilled in the Current, and used that to her advantage during their spars together, back when they were Jedi Knights in the Republic Jedi Order. She was skilled in it, but very frail. While she was an expert at conjuring illusions, had Josh managed to actually slash her just once, she'd have gone down. That wasn't Josh's style. While he had tried in recent years to be a diplomat - his ultimate success being the singlehanded treaty negotiations with The Fringe on behalf of the Republic when the Jedi's former Grandmaster had stepped out of line - and constantly tried to handle things pacifistically and without violence if at all possible, there was something about him at heart that spoke about who he truly was...

A warrior.

He was a warrior. A fighter. And he knew it. As much as he tried to deny it, something in his blood, in his genes, kept him fighting. He could only hold it off for so long before the will to fight sprung to life. And that was just how things were. But even here, his fighting style was different... Normally, he was graceful, quick but elegant in his attacks. Here, he was fighting for one thing - and that was survival without thought to the lives of his opponents. He was notorious for his tendencies to only wound even the simplest of soldiers before leaving them be to lick their wounds and be out of the fight until the next time. In his more difficult battles against more major opponents, such as Sith, he would wound, and leave, once again, sparing their lives. Many called it a weakness. In his eyes, his compassion was his strength. His compassion was what made Josh DragonsFlame who he was. At the same time, it was also what got booted him from his Grandmaster position, something that only fuelled the speculation that it made him weak. But he didn't allow himself to falter, he stayed true to his convictions, to the very end....

This was not the case here. He had tried. Tried and tried, so many times to spare these slavers, spare them and let them fight another day, go home and rethink everything... He would end up regretting it when they would turn around and start killing the slaves that he had come to liberate. Or hold them hostage. For once in his life, his compassion had truly become a weakness. They had taken advantage of it, and would continue to take advantage of it, these slavers.... They had no heart, no soul, no compassion, no regard for the lives of others. They were nothing but expendable property to them, and they would selfishly kill them as they saw fit just out of rage, or out of bitterness, or to garner some sort of advantage. It made him sick, and it had caused him to make an exception to a philosophy that was so near and dear to the Jedi Master.

This Sith Lord was no different. While he was in this midst, he could treat her no different then the slavers. Perhaps in another time, another life - he would be the Jedi Master that would have spared her. But not here, not now. He needed to survive, he needed to fight. He needed to liberate these slaves and get these innocent people home.

His fighting style had changed from when Ophidia had seen him last, and he certainly hoped he wouldn't have to do it like this anytime soon. His strikes were aggressive, somewhat still holding that effortlessly perfected grace of movement, but a far more brutal, quick and to the point style. Her stab would be parried, and batted back aggressively, before the Jedi would push forward with a series of quick and brutal strikes, using his strength as the means to try and forge ahead. He would use it in an attempt to push her back, and whether it worked or not, and whether any strikes hit or not, the Jedi Master would quickly change from the modified equivalent of his usual Makashi style, switching his style on the dime as he would quickly allow himself to use the Force, flying over Ophidia's head, still slashing at her with everything he had, not trying to hit any particular body part, but trying to hit some part of her in order to give him an opportunity to strike. The flurry of strikes on the ground would be matched by a few in the air, before he would land on his feet behind her and begin striking again, but only a few before he would move through the air again, leaving it all to Ophidia to whether she may parry them herself or not.

After a few rounds of this, he would stop once he hit the ground, and go for a stab toward her mid-section.


[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As her strike was parried, she quickly withdrew her blade to defend. Joshua's barrage of heavy-handed strikes were dealt with by diverting the power, rather than trying to stop them. In each of his strikes, she interjected her own blade into its trajectory and pulled his out of its' path, thus she could keep her position. She was forced to shift in order to apply enough pressure to sway his blows, but nothing that put her at risk.

She had fought people who utilised multiple styles before, reacting to them were instinct by this time. When he jumped, she crouched to put space between herself and his strikes while stepping into his former position and turning. The motion was fluent, her legs were trained to carry her through motions with steady swiftness above raw power. She was able to keep his battery at bay without exerting copious amounts of energy, but unable to give a riposte due to his rapid repositioning. Every time he flew past her, she would assume a new position, moving in seemingly random directions to slip out of his aggression. She knew she would have to change something in the situation, or they would remain locked in combat for far too long.

So, when Dragonsflame made his last jump. She covered herself with a shimmering bubble of the Force. She kept her blade in front of her in case he somehow got through. Then as Joshua brought his blade down, she pushed all the static Force-energy in his direction to push him back and reset the momentum. Pillars caught in the blast would be severely weakened and parts of the building would be at risk to collapse.

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

There was no holding back in this battle, he knew that he was outnumbered and needed to find a way to get out of this situation alive. This was a fight for survival, and the Jedi Master knew that. But he had to admit, this Sith Lord was good. Definitely not as experienced as other Sith Lords he had faced, but whoever she was, she knew what she was doing. She had managed to parry his blows well, and was obviously a good study, reacting and parrying him no matter which style he used. It was when she would throw a curveball that he needed to act fast. The bubble would break when he brought his blade down, but it was the energy she began to fire that would require a counterattack, or the way he'd land would grant her the advantage, he knew.

Quickly he lowered his lightsaber before holding out his hand. A firey blast would fire from his hand, countering the attack with one of his own. The two force-laced moves would make contact and explode from the sheer mass of energy between them, sending both Jedi Master and Sith Lord back, and bringing about a smokescreen that would cover the area for a moment.

Josh knew that he couldn't stay here. Not with the way things were. He needed to get out of dodge, where he wasn't outnumbered, re-plan his strategy and strike again when there wasn't so many of them in one place that were aware of his presence. But he knew that the Sith Lord would sense him... There would be no getting out of this until she was subdued long enough for him to slip out. The smokescreen would have been a great cover to escape, but unfortunately, while it would stop the others from shooting at him, it wouldn't stop the Sith.

He knew he needed to go in oddball, unexpected, unorthodox, to catch her off guard and stun her long enough to make his break for it. And on this rare occasion, he didn't think - he just did. Rushing through the smokescreen with his lightsaber ignited, the Jedi would feint a swipe at the Sith, before suddenly changing tactics. No, this time he didn't strike. Instead he would suddenly ram his shoulder into her un-guarded side, tackling the Sith Lord down. He didn't think, he just did, and he would quickly pin the Sith Lord down on her back after the initial surprise of the attack, locking his legs with hers and pinning her wrists down, making both of their lightsabers useless. Neither would be able to attack with them in this position.

If this were another situation, a spar, a friendly duel, or even someone he was familiar with, this odd position would have been something he would have started cracking jokes about. Wise-cracks, casual flirts, playful little banter, all of it. But right now, the compromising position didn't concern him whatsoever. Right now, he had a one-track mind, no quips or cracks or jokes. He wasn't thinking about any of that. So quickly, he would rear his head back, his teeth clenched, his eyes shut, before he would nail Ophidia with a hard, fierce, aggressive headbutt.

CRACK

He'd hit her with the hardest headbutt he could. And he had a hard head for sure, this wasn't the first he had thrown. He was breathing heavier now, his grip on her tightening as he hoped for a moment that had been enough. No, she was still awake... This wouldn't do. He had thrown a little too heavily, and had knocked himself loopy in the process, resting his head against hers, his soft, tender lips against her own. Another position with jokes if he had the mind to, but he wasn't thinking about that. It was here that he realized as well that his hood had fallen off when he had reared back for the headbutt. This would be where Ophidia would be able to recognize him, as his long blonde hair shined amongst the lights of the blaster fire that was going on around them. He was moments from rearing back to attack again, hoping that one more would do enough, but his eyes met hers, and in that moment, one good look at her face made his eyes widen.

".... Tikzha?" He whispered against her lips, raising a brow.

Well, this was awkward.

He'd forgotten she was a Sith for a good while. Hell, he didn't even think he would see her again, much less here of all places. But everything began to come together as he thought back on the encounter she had with the slavers... And a realization hit him.

Unfortunately, there were people around. How to relay it without alerting them? If it was clear to her opponents, and to perhaps even her allies, that they weren't actually locked in battle anymore, they may take advantage of the situation and start firing at them. But it would be less likely they would fire if they seemed to be in battle themselves... His eyes darted around as the smoke had begun to clear more and more. He tightened his grip on her, purposely making his limbs shake a little more to garner the impression that there was some sort of power struggle going on.

He always did know how to put on a show...

"Listen, I don't know what's going on..." He whispered against her lips, his tone growing serious for a moment. He kept his grip on her not just for the act, of course, but also in the case that she would actually attack despite him speaking. He knew how Sith could be, after all...

".... But it's clear to me that we both have a common enemy here. So I'll be blunt. I'm here to kill these bastards and free the people they have imprisoned. And you've got yourself a bit of a group war here. So I propose this... You help me with dispatching the slavers holding these people prisoner... And in turn, I'll help clear the way for you to get your friend out of here" He would remark quietly, remembering the slave she had come to free.

Granted, he had a feeling she had a score to settle with these guys anyway, considering what had happened...

Still, it was weird, proposing alliance with a Sith. Not that he hadn't worked together with Ophidia before. But this was a completely different situation. Still... They both had a common enemy, and they both had something to gain. There was no reason not to.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

(Apologies for taking control a little here. Figured it'd be the easiest way to move things along :3 )

 

[Darth Ophidia]

(Please, do not take control of my character again without consulting with me first. I will even out some of the advantage you took, but the result is the same.)

Fire and force clashed and blew apart. Darth Ophidia tumbled back and rolled up on her feet, her lightsabre swiping out to avoid harming her. Smoke spread between them, and through it she could hear the yells and see the streaking lights of blaster-fire.The room was pandemonium. Pillars near where they had stood had cracked and the ceiling shifted dangerously over the lacking supports.

She did indeed keep track of the Jedi through the smoke. With a blink of her eye, she saw through the Force. The smokescreen became nothing, but a vague distortion of texture, but she could see through it quite clearly. However, with the expanded view of Force Sight, she also saw Hizdo gunned down by a stray shot to the back and her prize cowering on the inside of the ship. It was near take-off, but not quite ready. It was time she enacted her vanishing act- A flash of blue, she instinctively stepped back and covered herself with her blade. The Jedi. Normally, her beskar would absorb most of the shock of such a shoulder-slam, giving her the chance to eviscerate her opponent on the way to the ground. This time, he had gotten lucky and struck her in the diaphragm.

The Assassin fell back into the tangle of limbs. She was a great ground-fighter, but her opponent was physically superior and did not just have a shoulder jabbed in his breathing-organs. Yet, he would not get complete control of her. While he had her lightsabre-hand pinned, she would keep his sabre-hand away too while trying to shift her hip into a position where she could break the balance of his legs. He would find that she was not easy to pin, even now.

He reared his head, she felt it in the shift of movement, but could not avoid. So, she decided to minimise the damage by presenting the strongest part of her skull. At least then they would be equally dizzy. The crack of skulls sent her head back against the floor. Her hood cushioned the impact enough to prevent a serious injury, but she was dizzy. Ophidia did not have time to be dizzy.

She sneered at the proximity of his lips to hers and called the Nagajj up through her bowels. Her throat widened a fraction as the white serpent in her flesh started to emerge into her mouth. As he was about to rear his head, she would open her mouth and launch the serpent's deadly bite in his face, but something stopped her.

"Tikzha?"

Her lips slightly parted and the serpent hidden within, she could breathe through it as it breathed through her. Who was this person, why was he familiar? A split second of searching memories and she recalled the instance in the bar. One corner of her lips pulled up into a half-smile and the serpent slid back down as she felt a few words could be far more effective than a serpent's bite.

"Joshua."

Her eyes narrowed at his proposition, she was not one to trust the Jedi. Still, she saw an opportunity there. With Hizdo dead, she would need some aid getting off the planet with her "friend". Furthermore, these slavers needed a good culling. Why would she not use the force that was once directed against her to take them out? If Joshua made any attempts at getting in her way, she would just have to kill him, much easier to do when he was not focusing on her.

"I don't give a poodoo about the slaves, but these boys need a lesson. So let's burn this place to the ground."

Her half-smile turned into a wicked grin.

"First, lets get you out of my face. Don't fight it."

Quickly, she inhaled and following it was a burst of Force Energy with her as its epicentre, much like a repulse, but more gentle. She wanted to push him off, perhaps into a backwards somersault, give them some distance from each-other and a chance to clash again without being sitting ducks.

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

(Whoops, my bad. Didn't mean to take any serious advantages, just tried to move from point A to B. Will consult with you next time)

The two had fought to a standstill, but it was Josh's words upon recognition that had brought the battle to a halt for the time being. To her words, he shrugged casually. To be quite honest, he didn't care if she gave a crap about the slaves or not. What mattered was that the two's goals happened to both be capable of being achieved by killing the slavers. So Sith or not, and different goals or not, they both had every reason in the world to work together right now.

He didn't trust her, of course. Why would he? Despite them knowing one another, he knew full well she was a dangerous Sith. And Sith were known for one thing, after all... Regardless, if she even made one wrong move, he wouldn't hesitate to cut her down. He knew that now. He didn't wish to, but right now, survival was key.

He smirked faintly.

"Let's do it."

When she mentioned getting him out of her face, he nodded in turn. While the position was comfortable at all, albeit compromising, he did want to get back to the fighting. They had a job to do after all.

"Alright, let me just..."

"Don't fight it" she had said.

Just like that, she'd repulsed him into the air. As predicted, the Jedi would flip back, landing on his feet, lightsaber drawn and engaged. He raised an eyebrow as he looked over at her. "Darling, you could have asked" He cracked, rolling his eyes. Whatever. Regardless, it was time to get down to business. There was no need to keep up an act anymore, not if they wanted to survive this encounter.

He had to remember just who were on her side and who was on the opposing side though... Quickly, he relaxed a moment, managing to telepathically reach the Sith. It was a little different from reaching Jedi that way... But would you believe me if I said this wasn't his first time?

"Alright, I don't care how you do it, but find some way to indicate to whoever's on your side that shooting at the Jedi means they're going to die. Because besides a few I've identified as friend and foe, I'm literally just going to gut whoever's shooting at me" sounded in her head. He knew that having allies on their side meant that there was less people shooting at them, due to shooting at somebody else instead. As he would raise his lightsaber to block bolts coming his way, he quickly summarized the enemies around him. He managed to identify a few who had started attacking from Opidia's side of things, and he made a mental note to leave them alone unless they attacked him. If they did, he'd try to pacify them, but if left with no choice...

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As Joshua flipped through the air, Ophidia pulled her knees up to her chest and sprung up to her feet. The bloodshine blade in her hand sprung to life with a sharp hiss as she lashed it out to the side then arced it up to point at the Jedi. A smile cracked on her lips as the tip of her blade rotated in tight, counter-clockwise circles.

"What would be the fun in that? I much prefer to keep you on your toes."

As he connected to her mentally, she allowed him in. She took a few quick steps to the side, avoiding a torrent of blaster fire before pulling her left hand back and redirecting the point of her blade. The shooter was lifted off his feet and plunged onto the end of her blade all while she kept eye-contact with Joshua. To prevent the body from becoming a liability, she twisted the blade and tore it through the side of the corpse as it flew past. One who knew her ways would be able to tell she was distracted. Luckily, there were none such present as far as she was aware. As the corpse tumbled limply onto the stone floor, she raised her voice in a terrible command.

"The Jedi is mine. Touch him and I will personally see to your prolonged suffering. Fight on, you pathetic mongrels!"

One part declaration of ownership on the Jedi, one part encouragement to fight on. They would know that, when dealing with the Sith, there was only victory or death. Cowardice spawned creative punishments, and victory granted a fat sum of credits. Even if they died, the credits would land in the laps of their families, and should they prove themselves good, then they could be drafted. The One Sith knew how to motivate the desperate to their vast military effort. Her followers cave a fellow shout of understanding, some of which were cut off as shots hit home.

Ophidia turned a fraction of her attention to the trapped ship, unable to take off due to the blaster-fire and the dead Hizdo in the cockpit.

[member="Joshua DragonsFlame"]