Follow Through

[RC 212]

[member="Mythos"]

Life had a funny way of handing your rear to you when you weren't looking. Karren knew all too well the pain and devastation the Galaxy had wrought. She had fallen, and now become the very thing she had hated all those years. The old Jedi Scriptures were right, sooner of later passion caught up to you.

Passion gave her that taste of blood in her mouth. Passion had given her the raw power to push through pain, regret and fear. Passion had given her that tiny taste of the Darkside.

Now she reveled in it.

It was time to pay a visit to an old Nemesis, and test her true mettle. Either she'd fall under his blade, or prove to herself that she was worthy of survival.

To her only one thing mattered now.

Strength, and whether she had it or not.

Her armor was discarded, and weapons too. The only thing on her person was the black jumpsuit that clung to her frame, complete with two lightsabers and her modded DL-44 "The Karren."

She waited in the darkness, next to her Stealth-X on some abandoned station near the Sith worlds.

Whilst a Jedi might Meditate and dream of nice things, she simply sat cross legged, angry and bitter. She pulled her rage up from the deep and channeled it into her body. Every muscle was primed, and ready. On the outside she appeared calm and collected, a slight tinge of yellow and orange in her irises.

Would he show?

 

[Mythos]

He always had time to hunt for new souls, souls to feed the Rudis or the Axe or new soldiers for the armies of the Sith. Either way it was a chance to flesh out his already sharpened skills in single combat. The place she chose was interesting, a space station abandoned after the first wars of the Ancient Eye... fitting.

He flew alone in his N-1 red fighter, modified for dogfighting and super speed. Insde the cockpit were his classic weapons, one being his Ax and the other his Rudis. The debris was of little trouble, as soon as his space fighter touched down he felt her presence linger here, strong in the force, strong in the dark side of the force.

Unknown to her was her importance in Mythos' grand plans, her future that the Ancient Eye that hung around his neck had shown him. The Golden Armor of Mythos, made of Aurodium and Songsteel adorned him everywhere but his skull, he was not here for stealth.

He walked inside and stuck out like a sore thumb, in darkness the shining gold of aurodium gave light. She knew of the Alliance... she knew where the ones who killed his son were in hiding. Finally, after all these years he had a lead, a clue, a sign that pointed directly where his ax would make its home.

The farther he walked into the abandoned station the stronger he felt her presence, the more he knew of her. The Ax swung on his side like a pendulum with each step, every swing struck the durasteel floor sending out sparks. He walked into the room she meditated in, the sound of the air pressure door the only thing heard apart from the clang of his boots and the rythmical screeching of his axe.

Like a sadistic murderer, an Ax murderer, he stopped about ten meters from his soon to be victim. He had already seen her capabilities, but now he had no soldiers lives to take care of, nothing to hold him back.

The door behind him shut and he raised his left hand when it did, balling it into a fist that crushed the internal locking mechanism. No escape.

"Your body" He said, the monotone sound of his voice a strange contrast from the rage and fury that came from both him and the weapon/artifact he weilded.

"Where do you wish for it to be buried?"
[member="Karren Trask"]