Playing With Fire

[Aela Talith]

Surah huddled in a corner behind a massive stack of crates.

She cowered.

Everything in her body told her not do, but she did.

She had to fight her thoughts, she had to fight herself, she had to hold herself back in order not to give in. A battle was raging within her mind, a battle between herself...and something else. She didn't know what it was, she didn't know what was happening, but she could feel it push, she could feel it prod. It stung at her, bit at her, threatened to consume her.

It was maddening.

Surah wanted it to stop, she wanted to claw her on eyes out and end her life, but she couldn't She had tried before yet it could not be done. Each time something held her back, each time something stopped her.

Now that something was growing stronger.

Beyond the boxes, beyond her little hiding place were the sounds of slaughter. The cutting of blades, the resounding of bowcasters, the snap of slughtrowers. The sounds of slaughter, of death. She could hear them, and whatever was inside of her, whatever was growing within the darkest parts of her heart.

It wanted to help.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Where one flower wilted, another bloomed.

Still in the very jumpsuit that bore her surname Jenna stalked the platforms of Kashyyyk. There had been no time of freedom to go around and get new threads. She had been whisked straight out of prison on a shuttle and straight to the lush forest world. Rudimentary weapons were given out on board, blasters, rifles, knives, vibroblades, stun clubs, shotguns and she swore there might have even been a grenade.

She snagged a moderate hunting knife. It was nasty, serrated, something that was really gonna smart on the way in, and out again. Not bad pickings, Jenna preferred to stab. Felt personal, y'know? Like you're all close up, pressed against your victim, knowing that they will die and you will live. Much better than a kiss.

A wookiee roared, sending out a pained and strangled roar as his feet clomped backwards on the platform. The bowcaster in his hands (paws? Claws?) rang out as a bolt was let loose and missed the target.

Guess who the target was?

Jumpsuit Jenna running at the massive beast, feet too agile, reflexes too spot on, grit and determination for blood to be on her hands once more far too great to get shot down by a walking carpet here and now.

The gap was closed.

A jump, a leap, a flash of metal as it torpedoed in her hand towards the wookiee's unprotected throat. She clung to his armour all the while, hanging off him like a bad Sithmas decoration as he staggered back, clattering into the ubiquitous crates with a pathetic roar. Jenna hung off of the creature for a few more moments, before unceremoniously ripping the blade out and ending any spark of life that might have remained.

Never bring a bowcaster to a knife fight.

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

She watched, panic in her eyes.

Surah didn't understand what was happening, she didnt understand what she was seeing. In a literal sense she did, the slaughter of the Wookiees. The slaughter of the people that had shown her kindness, of the people that had taken her in and showed her that not everyone was out to harm or hurt her, that not everyone was evil, that some just wanted to help.

She watched them die.

She understood that.

What she didn't understand was the feeling inside of her.

The thrill that grew as she watched the woman cut into one of the walking carpets. The exhilaration, the tantalizing beauty of blood surging through the air. She watched it without a peep, excitement growing within her, heart pounding, thumping within her ears, resounding over and over again like a massive drum solo.

She...she...

She wanted to help.

Surah bit her lip.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

There was quite a spray of blood as the blade was ripped from the wookiee's throat. It was like stepping into a tanning booth but instead of a pungent browning mist it was a vibrant red paint-job. It splattered across the woman's face, giving her a new look at said tribal goddess in garish orange.

The jumpsuit really had to go, it was so bright it clashed with everything, there was a small fear that large ships could somehow pick her out through thick canopy like a beacon of crime.

Wookiee garments were no suitable substitute, and Jenna wasn't nearly unhinged enough to go buck naked.

Another guttural cry of war, this one marking notes of rage and revenge, likely for his fallen friend. This wookiee, rather rocking the bowcaster opted for a massive ceremonial blade. Double-sided of course for twice the fun. Suddenly the hunting knife felt a bit limp in comparison.

Hopping off of the carpet corpse, Jenna clambered on top of one of the crates, giving herself at least some form of height to oppose the beast with as it began to charge in her direction. For a second her eyes flickered down, catching the top of somebody's head behind the crate she now called pedestal.

Wait, was there a person down there?

“I'd move if I were you, girl.”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

Surah froze.

She became an instant statuette of ice. Not knowing what to do, not knowing where to go. Panic rose within her, such as she had never felt before. Could she run? Could she make a break for it? No, the woman was right there, she was standing there, she'd catch Surah before she could even move.

Her breathing picked up.

“P-p-please.” The something within her surged, pushing against her, grating her voice as if it was trying to stop her from speaking. “Don't hurt me.”

The sound in her throat was grated and rough, as if she could barely choke out what she had said. The Something within her raged, clawing, begging to come to the surface.

Then the Wookiee charged.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Jenna snorted as the creature managed to stammer out a few words. A perfect victim, almost deserving of the fate of death given that she seemed to lack a spine in the first place. Killing her would almost be a kindness, after all what kind of life is that to live? Being meek and terrified of every single element thrown your way in the Galaxy?

“Does saying that ever work?” she spat downwards at the frozen woman.

Of course, she didn't need to justify it. Rayley would kill her just because she could, but there was a wookiee in the way first.

She stood on the balls of her feet, as the lumbering brute made his advance. So clouded was his judgement by rage for his fallen comrades and endangered planet that he was completely telegraphed. The ceremonial blade was up in the air behind his head, going to be brought down upon her. If Jenna didn't move, she would have been bisected.

But Jenna did move.

As the blade came smashing down, destroying the crate in one fell swoop the former inmate had already moved. Leaping from the crate she had moved around the side, closing the distance and jamming her blade into the back of the wookiee's knee, causing an immediate gargled scream.

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

The Wookiee screamed its loud rumbling scream, its voice carrying, shattering the very soul.

Yet Surah didn't hear it.

As soon as the womans spittle had dropped upon her face something had completely and utterly shrouded her mind, had taken hold of her and enveloped her. A rage that was impossible to pinpoint, a rage that grasped her like overgrowing vines. Her chest began to rise and fall faster, her heart began to beat more loudly, and her fingers curled into fists.

Lips turned into a scowl.

When the blades struck, they crushed through the crate in an instant, slicing through it and stopping within a hair width of Surah's face. As the Wookiee roared, Surah looked at the creature. Bright orange shifting like the falling suns. Her face soured, and she moved.

Faster then Jenna, faster than The Wookiee.

Her hand shot out, grasping the Wookiees blade. The creature had the good sense to look alarmed for a split second, before a pulse dashed through the blade. Bright red sparks of lightning surged from Surah's hand, carrying from the blade, through the Wookiee and hopefully into Jenna.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Jenna was almost too occupied by her own gratification.

She liked to go for the knees, she liked it when they could no longer stand. That was when the fight ended and it turned from fast-paced action into a slower game of control and that very concept excited her to the core.

The blade was twisted, the sound of the flesh and blood being severed a true pleasure on the ears. She would feign removing the blade, right before plunging it back in.

It was in her own enjoyment of this act that she almost missed the meek trembling woman move so quickly it might have seemed impossible. Jenna all but caught a glimpse of the figure just as she grabbed the blade. What was she?

Then the sparks began to fly.

Vicious red lightning went through one conductor and straight to the other, causing both inmate and wookiee to scream. Jenna Rayley was no masochist, she did not enjoy such sensation. Desperately she tried to release the knife from her grip but alas, the convulsions denied her brain access to her own dexterity.

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

The lightning stopped, but there wasn't any opportunity for the Wookiee, or Jenna, to do anything. Surah moved in the blink of an eye, as soon as the red sparks ceased she was upon the Wookiees massive form. Like a ballerina she danced onto the crate, her legs kicking out and wrapping around the Wookiees body.

Her hands grasped onto the thick fur at hits chin and skull.

With a great wrench of her arms Surah snapped the Wookiee's neck, a loud resounding crack echoing for a few seconds. As the body of the great carpet began to fall she flipped, pushing herself up and launching herself into the air.

She landed behind Jenna, her leg coming up and kicking the woman in the back of the head with bare feet.

It all happened within a split second, the beat of two hearts, the blink of an eye. Surah moved as fast as only a woman trained in death could have, She moved like a Goddess of pain.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

I'm sure Jenna might have taken the time to observe these acrobatics were it not for the lingering after effects of being assaulted by demonic red lightning. Sorry to miss the show, girl.

There was a crack, any noises of pain that the wookiee was partaking in suddenly stopped, Jenna had barely gotten the knife out of his leg before there was a hard smack, right on the back of her noggin.

Everything went black. Only for a moment.

A few seconds and she opened her eyes, finding herself face down upon the platform and very confused about what had just occurred. An ambush? That woman? Who was she, what was she? Had she just been bricked in the back of the head? There was blood, she could feel that sickly dampness growing and dribbling down the back of her skull.

Jenna rolled over onto her back, only to find that aforementioned woman standing over her, a far cry from the whimpering whelp that had been hiding behind the crates.

“...the hell?!”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

There was a deep scowl drawn across her face.

Rimmed with red and pink scars, accented by bright orange eyes, and darkened by the hood that sat over her Surah's face looked like it could have belonged to death itself. The woman stared down at Jenna, no weapons in her balled fists.

She stared, a fierce gaze falling into Jenna's eyes. Her foot moved up, first hovering over the girls stomach, then moving over her chest, and finally ending at her face. Surah stomped down, once, then twice, driving the heel of her foot against Jenna's cheekbones, bruising them, and perhaps even breaking them into pieces.

The Slave stared down in silence, no taunts, no words, only fury.

As the second kick landed on Jennas face her foot withdrew, landing on the girls chest and pushing down between her cleavage in order to keep her pinned into place. Her hands slowly folded open, fingers crackling with the same red sparks from earlier.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that you were a demon.

Evidently this woman wasn't the ideal victim that she had made herself out to be only moments before, which of course was a great worry for Jenna given that she had quite easily attained this woman's scorn. This woman who had just dispatched a fully-grown wookiee so quickly that Rayley had actively missed it happen.

She regretted spitting as the heel smashed down upon her face, not one but twice, the sharp pain of a broken cheekbone being sure to make itself known.

Had to be Sith, surely. I know the Republic couldn't have appreciated the invasion but they were hardly the kind to engage a zap and stomp kind of action. She raised her hands as some kind of vague peace offering but only got stood on in response. The foot upon her chest doing more to humiliate rather than hurt.

With the assumption that this woman was Sith, Jenna began to protest.

“No no, wait!” she objected, catching sight of those sparks once more, “I'm on your side!”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

“Side?” The word sounded like venom, hardly a question, more of a bite. “I have no side but my own.”

The voice sounded different, off. No longer the begging simper of a woman afraid. It spoke with command, with authority, with a bite of rage that could only be brought out by someone that stood far above Jenna in station, someone who was more than she could ever hope to be, someone stronger, smarter, and more beautiful.

Her foot pressed down, toes curling.

The red cracklings of lightning increased, sparking to such a capacity that they bit and surged towards the ground, leaving black specks on the wooden floor.

Surah stood like a Queen. Her posture having changed, her back straight, gazed fix, lips curled down into a scowl. Authority reigned around her, replacing what had been absolute panic and cowardice. She seemed a completely different person.

One who could deliver death.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Well that's a downer, Jenna was hoping they would at least be on the same side.

She was at least clever enough to know that she could not match this woman in a fight, and trying anything else would likely result in the death of her. Although with the foot pressing down upon her chest it felt as if the death of her was coming sooner rather than later.

Those stray sparks of lightning that snapped next to her head caused her to twitch somewhat, not wishing to feel that particular bite once again.

When running across the platforms driving her blade into the throats and hearts of wookiees she had felt in the zone, every movement flowing and in rhythm with the thrum of her own heartbeat, it had been going so well, and now, now she was being humbled.

Jenna Rayley did not like being humbled. However in the same breath she also wasn't a complete moron. She was going to have to through pride to the sideline, just for a little bit.

“I'm sorry! I thought you were weak! I was wrong, don't….don't kill me, please!”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

The scowl did not disappear.

If anything it deepened.

Killing this woman would have been so easy. A slight twitch of the finger to send lightning coursing through her body. A press of her foot down into the womans chest cavity, a twitch of her hands to wrench the womans neck off her own body.

There were so many things that Surah could do end her, so many things that she could have done to finish her off for her mistake, for what she had done. She scowled, looking down at the woman, then looking over to the dead Wookiee.

No.

She could be useful...couldn't she?

Surah shook her head, the fade of panic beginning to droop on her again. Her eyes bulged, she had to work quickly, she had to...she had to deal with this woman.

Her hand stopped their surge of lightning, and Surah removed the foot from her chest. Within the next half second she waved her palm, pulling Jenna from her place on the ground and throwing her at a nearby hutt, pinning her against a wall with a simple wave of the force.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Judging by the facial expression Jenna felt as if she had said the wrong thing, but then again judging by the fact that she was still breathing meant that maybe that wasn't the case. Perhaps what she said had no bearing and for the moment she was nothing more than a toy to a Sith that liked to go around pretending to be a timid and frightened little dear.

What a bitch.

The red threat of lightning receded as Jenna was very suddenly picked up by the Force and sent slamming against the wall.

The former-prisoner didn't know what to think, was she being played with? Was she nothing more than food that this woman didn't really care to eat being pushed around her plate of Kashyyyk? Naturally it caused grave offence to take place within Jenna's core. She had never been treated in such a manner before.

She didn't struggle, there was no point to it.

Instead Jenna looked to the woman, eyes like furious suns threatening to melt her own chocolate browns (I can't believe I just typed that).

“What do you want?”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

For a moment she said nothing. Instead she closed her eyes and shook her head, vision blurring as the woman spoke.

Surah touched her forehead with her off hand, cringing in seeming pain.

She had to work fast, fast or else it would all slip away from her. She tried to think of control, of evil, of blood, she tried to grab hold firmer, control. She needed control. A heavy breath ran through her lungs, and she opened her eyes, twin suns training directly on Jenna.

Her hand shook.

“I need...” Her voice strained. “I need you to take care of me.”

An odd request, but one that seemed rushed, hastened, forceful.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Well that was unexpected.

The enigma of a woman was seemingly crumbling before her, she seemed pained and not altogether with it any more. There was definitely some foul play going on here, foul play that Jenna did not at all comprehend, at least not yet.

Here this woman was, throwing her around like yesterday's trash and now she was asking for help?

Talk about your mixed messages.

Yet there was opportunity here. Jenna already knew that the Force flowed within her, the Jedi in perhaps their only moment of worth had taught her that much, but this schutta, she had power, power that could be taught and in turn could be used by Miss Rayley herself. She could imagine herself standing where this woman stood, lording over those weaker, playing with life like it was made to be her toy.

But this was too strange a request not to know the answer to.

“Why?”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

She shook her head again, as if she heard a voice, as if a whisper was in her ear and she was trying to shake it.

No.

No.

No!

Surah wasn't ready yet! She still had to talk, still had to make sure she could survive, get off this world. She had to make sure she continued, she had to make sure that this fething little twat of a woman survived long enough...

“Keep me alive.” She sounded rushed, hurried. “I...I struggle. I can't maintain control.”

Surah spat the words as fast as she could. “I need you to keep her alive.”

The disconnect, her not me. There was a difference in that, one that hopefully Jenna would pick up on.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

The conversation suddenly felt very rushed, a balance shifting in the question of who really held the power. Evidently this woman only had a slippery grasp on her terrifying display of death and now it was slipping out from beneath here, with Jenna waiting below to catch.

This situation intrigued her, and offered chance were she had none.

After all, the One Sith expected most of their prison cannon fodder to expire here, what was she going to do, set up a shop making wookiee shackles?

Then came the slip, the word in mind. Keep her alive. Me. Her.

It took a moment for Jenna to swill that concept around in her brain. How could a creature so frightened turn into such a powerhouse in a simple moment. There was only a single body, but perhaps there was more than one mind. Or maybe it was all just some silly little game to be played at Jenna's expense.

But why not?

“I can do that,” she said slowly, the corners of her lips turning up into a very small smile.

[member="Surah"]