First Reply Grave Robbing Is Pretty Much a Victimless Crime

[Jogon]

Serenno System, Mantero
Abandoned Mausoleum Complex

The heavy doors to the mausoleum creaked open and Glippard practically hurled himself onto the lone sarcophagus within. Jogon followed the treasure hunter in in with less enthusiasm. Either they found it or they didn't. There was no sense in getting worked up.​

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But Glippard couldn't help himself. He was scratching at the stone lid trying to get it open. It featured a carved statue of a human woman, eyes shut, expression serene. A gentle repose. She didn't look like the type to traffic in Sith amulets, but here they were.​

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"What are you standing there for?" Glippard snapped at him, still struggling with the lid. "Open it!"​

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Jogon rolled his shoulders, plodded up to the sarcophagus, and pushed. The lid slid off easily and fell to the ground with a deafening crash, cracking in two. Oh well. Glippard immediately hung over the side and started rooting around the old bones. Jogon sat there and waited, not wanting to get any corpse dust on himself. ​

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After a moment, Glippard shot upright, an amulet clutched in his hand. It was a simple thing of black stone, shaped like the tooth of some hunting beast. About the size of a human's thumb. Jogon could sense the subtle residue of the Dark Side on the artifact, tickling the air with power. Glippard was deaf to such things, of course.​

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"The Second Fang of Yeen… Finally!" Glippard licked his lips, staring at his prize.​

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"And the other three?"​

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Glippard shot Jogon a glare, "How should I know? I only had the lead on this one, and it brought me here." ​

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Jogon raised an eyebrow. ​

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"Brought us here after a fashion, fine," Glippard amended, "But with the money I raise once I get it back to Rudrig…"​

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This was, unfortunately, the wrong answer. Jogon took a moment to limber up his right arm while Glippard was still speaking. Once the treasure hunter trailed off, he swung, and he felt the man's jawbone fracture and dislocate against his knuckles. ​

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Glippard went spinning, staggering away, eventually colliding with one of the mausoleum walls and slumping to the floor. Probably alive, but no longer in a position to engage with... Well, anything. Jogon collected the Fang from where it had fallen and hung it around his neck. ​

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Satisfied, he plodded back outside and into the derelict graveyard.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

With a metal shudder, dust and wilted shrubbery fell from the large black metal gates that parted the gray brick wall enclosing the long-forgotten graveyard inside. It was a sobering sight, these weren't just any tombstones, these were the graves of some of Serenno's largest political figures in history. These were mothers, fathers, and uncles laid to rest by their families who might've had a hand in their deaths. All of them likely had a great story behind them and yet here they were, abandoned and left to rot.

What a humbling thought it was, that no matter how much good she did or how many friends and family she surrounded herself with eventually Myvette would die, and like these nobles those who vividly carried her memory in their hearts would eventually die off as well and her final resting place would become overgrown, her headstone cracked and filthy and her legacy would fade into obscurity.

She'd be forgotten. Even her use as fertilizer would be diminished as a thick box of wood encased her and her bones had become brittle and dissolved into dust.

A morbid future she saw for herself, most people Myvette's age would have strayed away from that idea but the Miraluka in particular found a twisted sense of peace at the thought she'd be grave dust one day and burden the world no longer. She'd come from dust and would return to dust to lay resting.

But now she could sense it, one of those laid to rest had been awoken, their grave disturbed in a moss-covered mausoleum near the center of the graveyard. Her mission was touted to be simple; retrieve the Fang of Yeen so its dark power could be suppressed and sealed away. There was a rumor circulating in the underworld about its location and due to its nature, Myvette was dispatched. At best she'd retrieve the artifact and possibly have to deal with a couple of tomb raiders. At worst, the artifact would've already been stolen and she'd be in no real distress.

Imagine her surprise when a Dashade sauntered out of the mausoleum.

Granted, Myvette had no idea that's what Jogon truly was. The Padawan could feel his sinister power in her spirit, see the dark red swirling aura that crept around his body as a bright crimson core pulsated and sent ripples of murky energy through that aura which caused its flow to spike like currents of electrical power. Myvette could hear his gruesome strength as a low rumble, or maybe it was just his massive feet spreading the dirt and leaving tiny craters in the ground. Either way, after her experiences with Jax and on Arkania she knew what this was.

This is the dark side. It's not like with Jax where it prodded at his spirit or on Arkania where its presence worked like a poison and corrupted the area. This is focused and intentional, like a core of energy powering a reactor. Could he be...no. I don't anything for sure yet. Right now the only thing I can be sure of is that he's a grave robber. A massive one too...

Taking a deep breath, Myvette became resolute in her decision and planted her feet firmly in the dirt as Jogon approached her with his menacing profile. The Padawan adjusted her mask and raised her head to meet his gaze as he came closer, though she lacked the eyes to do so properly.

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

Someone was waiting for him outside the mausoleum. Jogon paused in the doorway, brow furrowed consternation. She must have snuck up when he was focused on Glippard. Or maybe her presence in the Force was so discreet he had missed it. But here she was now: directly in the way, reeking of Jedi teachings, and attempting a defiant bearing. ​

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This was who the fates had delivered to him? A little blind girl who barely made a ripple in the Force. Jogon huffed indignantly. This would hardly be an exchange worth recounting to anyone. If he were lucky, he'd forget it himself shortly after dinner. ​

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"You must be lost, padawan-learner," Jogon told her, "Go home to your master. I won't tell anyone I saw you." ​

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Even as he spoke, Jogon unclipped the lightsaber from his belt, already anticipating her response. A key part of Jedi training, from his understanding, was to unlearn any sense of self-preservation. He would endeavor to make this quick. Spare them both humiliation.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

Each step Jogon took toward Myvette radiated danger and an intense feeling of murderous apathy. He didn't seem particularly fond of dealing with the Padawan, and his expression did not attempt to hide it. Her impact in the Force was small, underdeveloped, given time her presence would radiate hope and authority but now? By her estimate, the girl lacked both and wouldn't cultivate that aura for a long time. Even still that didn't matter, perceived weakness couldn't stand in the way of duty, it must be overcome.

Upon closer inspection of his aura, Myvette's initial suspicions were all but confirmed. A sickly core of energy powering the dark reactor that was Jogon's body. Jogon would be somewhere in its center if sinister indifference were an image. He spoke and the darkness in his soul swirled before spiking and flowing at a steady tempo. His malcontent had fueled his power and did so expertly, this was someone experienced in the dark arts. Likely not a Dark Jedi or other poorly trained villain.

This was a Lord amongst Sith.

Spreading her feet apart, Myvette leveled off against Jogon and wielded her saber with both hands before the impossibly hot golden blade was breathed to life and a powerful familiarity washed over Myvette. A Jedi's lightsaber was their life and when that extension of themselves was called forward it brought forth an almost adrenal high, at least for her. This would be her first battle against another Force wielder and if she wasn't careful, her last.

I won't let you have your way. Myvette's resolve shined internally. I'm sorry...I don't have more to say. I don't know if I'd want to reach into your psyche to speak that way or if I even could. But you don't seem like the type to value words over action anyway...and besides...

Myvette could 'see' the dark side energy flowing inside his weapon, the unnatural quality of its energy as if it were manufactured. The Force flowed strangely through certain parts of his body, the Force flows through organic muscles and tissue easily but Jogan was...different. He wasn't impaired or hampered in his modifications but it seemed like whatever had been done to his body caused the force to flow into his body as opposed to through it.

The Padawan angled her saber in front of her in a rigid, strength-focused defense. Myvette wasn't planning on making the first move but doubt she would have to. Jogon didn't seem adverse to fighting.

...My actions are very clear.

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

Jogon scoffed to see her ignite the lightsaber and slide into a defensive stance. These Jedi had a touch of the Sith in them if they were instructing children to throw their lives away for a bauble stolen from a graveyard. Did she so fear her master as Jogon had once feared his? The better part of him would have wept to see it if it hadn't been resigned to silence some years ago.​

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Now he mostly felt nothing. She was cast to her role, and he to his. No use complaining. No use talking anyone out of it.​

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His lightsaber ignited with a familiar snap-hiss, revealing (perhaps unsurprisingly) a bright, crimson blade. Not that a Miraluka could appreciate such a sight. Jogon sighed. "Have it your way."​

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The dashade launched himself with surprising speed at the padawan, closing the distance between them in only a few thundering steps. He swung his blade down in a diagonal arc, seeking either to bisect her from shoulder to hip - or simply knock her lightsaber clear out of her hands with the force of the strike.​

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Her call.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

The Sith's crimson weapon exploded to life with a hiss and Myvette felt as though she'd been stabbed already. A deep and heavy pit in her stomach formed as her mouth became a thin line and she stepped back on pure instinct.

That's all she could rely on here, instinct. Myvette didn't have the training or the experience to hope for anything else. She wasn't ready...she wasn't ready to be thrust into a duel this soon, so abruptly and without warning. Where was Jax Thio ? Why wasn't he here to help her? They'd trained in battle before and she certainly wasn't useless behind a saber...but this was different. There were stakes, life and death, and the fate of her mission. If she slipped up even once she'd lose and if she lost she'd die.

Die...

Where had her bravado gone? The Miraluka had been so content to die and be cast into the gulf of time, forgotten in a broken land such as this, and now? She was afraid. Myvette had to concede that there was a warped sense of irony in her dying inside a graveyard but she couldn't dwell on those thoughts. Fear and regret fueled the dark side, her nervousness of a strong opponent would make him stronger and in turn, make her more apprehensive. What vicious power.

Speaking of vicious, Jogon was coming and fast. His gargantuan stature didn't inhibit his speed even slightly as he bolted forward, raised his colossal arms over his head, and slammed his blade down in a diagonal arc.

He's fast! But I'm ready for him!

Raising her blade to meet Jogon's, Myvette loosened her stance right before the moment of contact and stepped to the side of the attack while slightly pushing the Sith's blade with her own toward the ground. Her saber was on the outside now and Jogon's momentum allowed the Padawan to angle his blade away from her as she raised her own weapon and slashed through the air at Jogon's neck. It was a decisive maneuver and perhaps even a ruthless one but the Miraluka's limited combat experience told her that ending a battle as quickly as possible was in her best interest.

His neck is a huge target, but if I can't hit that I'll angle back and slice off his shoulder! I'm not nearly as strong as he is and he knows that. Judging from that attack he probably expected me to block him head-on but I'm not that stupid. Even still, now he knows I'm not a pushover so I'll have to be extra careful going forward.

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

She moved with the blow, guiding his blade and sidestepping it rather than attempting to withstand the strength of it head-on. Credit where it was due. Jogon was left overextended and jerked his head back to avoid her follow-up cut. He felt the heat of the blade graze his neck. It'd missed him by barely the width of a hair.​

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Sai cha. She'd tried to decapitate him. Understandable. Desperate times called for lethal cuts, and from where she was standing, it must have looked like a desperate time indeed. The padawan struck again, this time aiming for his shoulder, but that was a mistake. Jogon's own blade was now free. He brought it back up and intercepted the blow, locking her blade to his.​

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"Very good," he said. Ruthlessness was something to be applauded wherever it was found.​

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As a further congratulation, he delivered a kick straight for her stomach - one with enough power to send her back several feet if she weren't careful.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

As she suspected, Jogon was deceptively dexterous and evaded her strike with grace before deflecting her follow-up attack and locking their blades, his weapon pushing toward her with more strength than she was prepared for. The Padawan took multiple steps back as the Sith weapon pushed her own blade closer to her and it took a great deal of strength just to keep herself from being sliced apart by her weapon.

This was what the Miraluka was afraid of. She couldn't match him in physical strength, not even close. Survival was dependent on her ability to roll with his momentum and evade his attacks...unconfident in her powers as she was.

No! I can't think like that. Myvette grit her teeth as Jogon pushed the lock and golden parks spewed from their clash. I have to...come up with a strategy. Use his weight against him somehow and finish this.

Jogon raised his leg and Myvette's thoughts were shattered as her elbow and knee raised on instinct and blocked the powerful strike that pushed her down the hill that led to the mausoleum. Her block had absorbed a great deal of the blow but she was knocked clean off her feet and tumbled down the through the dirt. Her rolling came to a halt when her back collided with a headstone and knocked the dust off it, now crooked.

Wincing, the Padawan held her back as she slid to her knees and took hold of her saber, the next move already planned in her head.

He isn't easy to move but he praised me just now. Did my attack get to him or was he mocking me? Regardless, he won't be able to mock me after I beat him.

Jogon​

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

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There was no missing the self-satisfied bemusement from Jogon as he watched the padawan roll down the hill, finally colliding with a towering headstone that went askew from the impact. That had to have hurt. Probably even more than the kick. He took a few steps forward, lightsaber lowered and peered down at her. To his surprise, she was starting to rise, saber still clutched and ready.​

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She must have thought he would go down there to keep swinging at her, but Jogon had done enough reading to know never to give up the high ground. Especially not to a padawan.​

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Jogon clenched the air with his free hand and yanked it forward. Behind Myvette, the headstone shuddered and disgorged more dust as if seized by an unseen hand. Then it pitched forward violently, threatening to pin the padawan beneath it.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

Myvette watched Jogon's hand extend and her initial thought was that he was attempting to seize her with the Force but that assumption was wrong. The dirt around her was unsettled before the unmistakable sound of a sliding stone reached her ears and the Padawan spun around off instinct. Her saber flashed through the air and sliced the tombstone in two. Regret quickly assaulted her spirit and the girl frowned at herself.

I'm sorry. You deserved better than that.

Charging up the hill, Myvette held her saber to her side as she approached Jogon and leaped high into the air. Memories of Alderaan rushed through the Padawan and were dispersed as her hand stretched toward the Sith and telekinetic force rushed into him, splintering the ground as the girl landed a good distance behind him and bolted toward the mausoleum. Myvette wasn't here to fight, she came to retrieve the Fang of Yeen and that's what she'd do.

She rushed up the hill in a mad sprint and busted into the mausoleum, her saber still burning with golden light. It was foolish to believe otherwise but it was still demoralizing to see the sarcophagus cover shattered on the floor, its treasure stolen and their grave shown such irreverence. Next to the disturbed grave was a man with a broken jawline and blood pooling in his mouth and down his shirt. His injuries were recent, the blood hadn't even oxidated. Had he come with Jogon, or was he here on his own?

Quickly, Myvette rushed over to the man and lightly slapped his face, trying to bring him back to consciousness. She couldn't abandon him, as nefarious as his position here was.

Jogon​

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

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Shame about the tombstone. Not that it was broken, just that it didn't work. The padawan came charging up the hill like an insane person might, which actually made the dashade pause. She was going to try and leap over him. Had to be. Jogon took a cautionary step back and readied his lightsaber. When Myvette did vault over him, he swung in an upward arc in an attempt to clip her limbs.​

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He missed, though, and for his effort he got a shove in the back - the Force of it pulverized the soil and knocked Jogon to his hands and knees.​

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She kept running after she landed. Well away from him and into the mausoleum. What game was she playing? Jogon snarled at the dirt and began to stand. Better late than never. She was out of the way now, though, which was what he'd wanted from the start.​

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---​

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Glippard - a bald, human with pockmarked cheeks, probably in his mid-twenties - was slumped against the wall just where Jogon had left him, completely insensate from a combination of being struck and the incredible pain from his dislocated jaw. He did not stir when she came charging in, but he did suddenly scream and flail when she slapped him to wake him up.​

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Not a disproportionate response given the state his face was in. When he screamed, bloody spittle came flying out of his mouth. So did a tooth. One hand clenched the swollen side of his face and the other attempted to swat off Myvette.​

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"Get away!" he yelled, words slurred. More mucus than speech.​

 

[Myvette Faeli]

Wincing, Myvette raised an arm to shield her face from the crimson spittle flung at her face by the grave robber. He was panicked and rightfully so but she needed him to calm down, especially with his injuries. All that screaming couldn't be good for a dislocated jaw. Her arm already raised, Myvette grabbed the hand that attempted to swat her away and tenderly laid it on Glippard's chest while her other hand grabbed the man's second arm and moved it away from his jaw.

A calming breath, Myvette inhaled through her nose and out through her mouth to focus her thoughts and alleviate her anxiety. She'd likely scare Glippard even more with this but...it was the only way she could speak. Besides, with his broken jaw, he'd probably appreciate this.

Hey.

The word was brief and echoed in Glippard's mind briefly. It could have been his imagination strange as it was, but then he heard it again.

Don't think about the pain, look at me.

Myvette tapped Glippard's shoulder and his suspicions were affirmed. Somehow...they were speaking telepathically. Was this girl...

The Fang of Yeen. You came here to steal it right?

Myvette's head peeked at the door, worried that Jogon could step through any moment but he didn't and her vision stretched beyond the mausoleum walls and outside to where the Sith appeared to be moving in the opposite direction. Makes sense, he didn't want to fight to begin with and now he had an opportunity to escape.

She wouldn't let him.

Can you stand?

Jogon ​

 

[Jogon]

Myvette Faeli

His eyes beheld Myvette, watery from the pain and searching… And eventually focused, once she slipped into his mind. Perhaps this would have normally startled him, but he was in a great deal of pain and emotionally racked by his loss of the Fang.​

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"Steal?" Glippard instinctively tried to speak, but winced immediately from the pain. His own thoughts did the talking from there, briefly unfiltered.​

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A corpse isn't a person. It can't own anything. So it's not stealing. Victimless crime. Wait another thousand years and it's archaeology. Simple as. And the Second Fang's that old anyway, so...​

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Some thoughts so deeply etched on a mind they couldn't help but bubble up at the slightest prompting. She could take that as a yes, though. Glippard still kept one hand on his face, the other scrambled to find purchase on the wall. When it did, he pulled himself unsteadily to his feet with a long groan.​

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I can stand. I can run. I can shoot.​

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Mostly delusions after that first point, but there was a cheap blaster pistol holstered at his side. The grip shined in the way most things that had never been properly held by a human hand did.​

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What? Are you going to arrest me now?​