One brisk evening...

[Darth Ophidia]

The blade left her hand, and she sensed something coming, something big. On instinct, she covered herself in a blue, shimmering bubble of the Force. The wave would crash into it, envelop it, and even if the floor gave way underneath, the bubble would not budge. The protection bubble was one of the Force's many endlessly practical abilities, as good as indestructible as long as concentration was maintained.

Her thrown lightsabre hilt clattered against the wall, leaving a scorch mark before becoming extinguished, never reaching the Senator. However, the assassin was far from done. Dropping the bubble and maintaining her shrunken presence, she landed on the floor and gave every impression of running to meet [member="James Mathison"] just before she, once more, vanished from sight and from sound. Instead of charging the Jedi, she turned, darting towards the bathroom and [member="Darion Blackstaff"].

Keeping her left hand on her lightsabre, Ophidia snapped her right hand out against the Senator as though catching a ball in the air. She was not pulling him, nor choking. Instead, she attempted to apply momentous amounts of pressure to the reptilian's head and crush it before he could make his way out.

[member="Darth Ferus"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

With [member="James Mathison"] so keen on ignoring the Sith Lord, Ferus decided that it was no longer is problem to deal with him. If he wanted to deal with [member="Darth Ophidia"] , let him. Into the shadows the Assassin went, fading from view and from the Force, and with James attention so much on his partner that it would be rather hard to find this master Assassin. Into the room with [member="Darion Blackstaff"] he went, sneaking through the shadows and into the bathroom. The slip of metal against metal could be heard from the otherwise quite room, and the form of Ferus would form, bringing his hidden blade around to punch into the throat of this senator once and for all.

 

[Darion Blackstaff]

There was much to life.
Darion Blackstaff had lived it for over 60 years. Through it he had seen joy and sorrow, a palette of it all that had led him to where he was today, what he was today.
For some reason the elderly man stopped before entering the bathroom. It did not appear that way to others. But for a fraction of a moment the senator of Pengal, and Repulic minister of foreign affairs paused.

Life, it had been something to cling to, something to protect and preserve. Despite all, that had been his calling.
Memories of a child on Pengal flashed before his eyes. His mother, his father - a family providing the security and support to start a good life, a rich life.
Those faces faded quickly and were replaced by a younger version of himself. His daughter, the child he had carried allthose long nights, the infant that he had not recognized as his own for several month after her birth.
He was not sure if that was normal or not, but what he knew was that the love that had grown from there for this new life far outweighed everything else he had experienced.

Now, his life was not important, but he still desired to see his daughter, to experience grandchildren. To see life... Grow.
Darion pressed the wall panel and the bathroom door flew open with him squeesing himself inside. He had made it but that was it.

With a flick of her and the assassin had ended his life and without any defence Darion Blackstaff's brain was crushed. He stopped, and swayed like a tree in the wind for a moment. Then blood started to drip from ears, eyes and mouth before he collapsed numb and lifeless on the bathroom floor.

Life... Such a precious treasure....

The power of the dark lord [member="Darth Ophidia"] had ended it as if it had no meaning at all...

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="James Mathison"]

 

[James Mathison]

James felt the life force of the senator leave this plane. He'd failed, the Sith hit too hard and fast for him to counter. It wasn't over quite yet though, he still had a chance to capture at least one of the Sith.

James focused on the room where the Senator died and unleashed a torrent of Force Blasts. The septuplet barrage would crumble the whole side of the house where the Sith would be. Pulling his second Lightsaber from his belt and ignited the orange blade, he moved to find the Sith as they either tried to flee or fight.

Utilizing Force Speed, he'd counter their moves with speed and hopefully capture one of them.

His armor featured holo-record capabilities and he began to record everything. He'd hope to identify the Sith and bring back the info with him. If he captured one or both, they'd be put on trial and the film would help his case. He'd failed his duty, but now he'd get Justice.

[member="Darth Ferus"] [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Darion Blackstaff"] (sorry homie, I tried)

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Life truly meant nothing to Darth Ophidia. Death was her lover, and she was generous with its kisses. As she felt matter give way under her pressure, she turned to face the Jedi. She had not come all the way into the bathroom, just close enough to get the senator within sight. Her left hand let her spare sabre hang at her hip while she switched on the stealth-field generator of her armour. This let her drop the cloak of shadows and lett the stealth field obscure her instead.

Even when she had not been invisible, she was near impossible to identify. Her outfit covered every inch of her body and its make and design was removed from all records. One could perhaps see that she was female and carried a pair of lightsabres. The design of her armour and helmet was quite common. Even if the exact details of it was captured, despite the hood that obscured the finer details, there would be no conclusive results as to name or species. She was no-one, just a shadow.

That is when the first blast hit. It shattered the wall next to her and she could feel wood clatter against her cuirass. No doubt the guardian was mad about failing and decided to bring the house down upon them. They could use this for their escape. Straying away from the bathroom a few steps, she reached her left hand towards the lightsabre hilt she had dropped earlier. As it had been used by her and attuned itself to her, it flew easily into her hand. Simultaneously, she pressed a button on her helmet with her right hand, sending an encrypted signal to their ship and to Darth Ferus. Extraction was due; type red.

As one of the next blasts caught her, she let herself be thrown back while sending a wave to weaken the walls behind her and reduce the damage of impact. Coupled with the strength of her beskar plating and Corellian leather padding, the impact was certainly lessened. Even so, she felt the air knocked out of her as she flew through the air. Adjusting her legs, she was able to stabilise and turn her body in the air. Her presence was still hidden and her stealth field generator reduced her form to a vague oscillation amidst the falling ruins.

Softening her landing with a burst of the Force, she landed on the roof of the Phasma and awaited [member="Darth Ferus"] to do the same.

[member="James Mathison"] [member="Darion Blackstaff"]

 

[Darth Ferus]

With his form already gone, and his signature so shrunk, the Sith simply followed his once apprentice out. [member="Darth Ophidia"] would land on the roof of his ship along side Darth Ferus, who similarly used the Force to speed up his movements. Like a beast he had entered the building, leaving destruction in his wake. To create fear, paranoia. All so Death could leave her mark. War was a distraction from the true events, and that's what this Sith was. Fearsome in his own right, powerful enough to be feared, but known enough to gain the attention.

Those who would know his red cloak, like the one of [member="Mantic Dorn"] , would know he had shown his colors here. All part of the plan. Quickly and quietly he would get into the ship, where SICA, upon Ophidia's entrance, would take the stealth ship as far away as possible. The mission was complete, so there was no reason to stick around. Red eyes cast a glance over the Pale for a moment, contemplating in silence.

"You've gotten better."

[member="James Mathison"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Ophidia climbed into the ship with the Red Assassin. After the bay sealed and the ship took off, she released the magnet holding her hood in place, put her hands on her helmet and pressed the release. A sudden release of air made the beskar shell let go of her head and she lifted it off before dropping it carefully in one of the seats. She ran her gloved hands over her scalp a few times, scratching the ashen skin and wiping away the sweat that had gathered in the strenuous activities. As [member="Darth Ferus"] spoke, her burning orange eyes turned to him in attention.

"Stagnation is failure, and it's success or death."

Her hands lowered and as she replied, she peeled the leather gloves from her hands. She threw the gloves into the helmet

"If I did not improve, I would die - or worse."

With her left hand, still black like ink after the alchemical ritual that made her familiar, she undid the clasp that sealed her collar. With the sensation of freedom, she moved her head from side to side. With each movement came a pop from her neck. Wearing a helmet was good for safety and obscurity, but it was not exactly comfortable.

 

[Darth Ferus]

There was a small chuckle from the Sith as [member="Darth Ophidia"] spoke. "You were always the serious one. Perhaps I should have focused more on the freedom aspect rather than beating success or death into you." Unlike his partner, the Red kept his hood on. Instead, he closed his red eyes and leaned his head back. The whine of the hyperdrive activating filled the cockpit where they sat, and soon the streaks of white could be seen as they left the planet behind.

"I'm getting a drink when I get back. You're welcome to join." A flash of red from under his hood suggested that his eyes opened for a moment. He was staring at the black hand, thinking back to that day. She was foolish then, following him blindly. There was much she still didn't know, but she wasn't his student anymore.