Pulling Up the Roots

[Vega the Chaos Mage]

Vega booted the cockpit window; if not once, then at least three times before the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. An injured Sith clawed her way out of the wreckage, scorched digits dragging her physique down the front of her craft to touch down upon Tatooine's sand. The demands of one Galactic soldier never went unheard. He wanted her to stay down on her knees with her hands pressed against the steaming wreckage of her craft, but she silently refused, using her actions to make it self-explanatory. She had this situation coming, but there was no way one mere soldier was going to incapacitate her. She had ways to evade death in times like these, be it through a supernatural or scientifically logical means of execution. It was only matter of time before-

Vega lifted her head; the soldier threatening her dropped like a sack of fruit upon receiving an onslaught of lasers towards his being. Oh - and what was this? A knight in shining armor? Purple hues turned towards the wreckage behind her, but there was no knight. Two modified battle droids, perhaps, but no knight. They'd do as her saviors for now, though she needed no saving. To be honest she didn't even think they'd survive the crash, let alone climb out from beneath the remnants of her HMP Predator and save her from wasting her energy. She would have smiled if the moment wasn't too serious. Too important to someone like her. Instead she nodded her head and the droids leapt from the wreckage and once again opened fire, this time upon the crowd of locals that gathered around the crash site. Scavengers - mostly - looking to pick at the tasty parts of her ship. They were quick to scatter back into the depths of Mos Espa before they had a chance to do so. Vega patted herself down as she approached the corpse of the Galactic soldier. He was dead; two digits pressed against the throat confirmed that. Her fingers glided over his face, brushing over his lids to seal them before she returned to her feet. The droids united behind her, rifles pressed against their chests to hint they done as she had asked while she saw to the corpse.

“We believe she died in the crash.” One broke the silence in an altered tone. Vega hated that pitch the Separatists gave them. Nothing intimidating in it whatsoever. At least the pitch she adjusted made them speak within a tone far more deeper. But she frowned. A palm smacked into its shoulder to push it away from her in her moment of annoyance.

“No - no she Isn't. In fact, quite a few of them still linger throughout the streets of Mos Espa. You just have to get out there and look.” Vega replied, again shoving the droid. This time she shoved it towards Mos Espa, leaning on the second as she erupted a violent cough. Trivial to worry about the diagnosis now. She already new. “I can feel them - all of them. Perhaps you can't, but I know they're out there. Get out there and find them.” She went on to add, demand in her lilt. From there she proceeded to step back to hint she weren't accompanying the droids. With that they begun their march into Mos Espa, guns flaring an outburst of lasers to threaten the locals to back off. They were here to hunt the Galactic Alliance, not residents of Mos Espa. They had their mission, and Vega had hers. She could feel it: the throbbing in her veins. That was the sense of power. Power that coursed through another like herself. She could only hope they were what she was looking for.

[member="Mediha"]

 

[Mediha]

Desert. Mediha's lips thinned in as close to a scowl as she would come without Darius around as she looked out at the expanse of desert beyond the borders of Mos Espa. Many of the Alliance members aboard the same transport as her had sustained injuries, some life-threatening, though their pilot's skills had made those casualties much lesser than they could have been. The ship that had shot them down had been One Sith according to one of the commanders in the cockpit. Mediha didn't know how she could tell, but, since the woman had died upon impact, Mediha didn't have the chance to ask either.

The group of survivors had gathered what they could from the wreckage as quickly as they could before making the jog from the crash site over several dunes to the nearest town. The sole remaining commander dispatched scouts to check the area; the other ship had sustained damage as well, but Mediha had been so busy focusing on their crashing vessel that she hadn't noticed if it had escaped, landed, or crashed along with them. Apparently, the commander wanted to be certain they weren't going to be ambushed. It wasn't an unwise decision.

She didn't hear the alarmed call that doubtlessly went to the commander, but she felt the swell of the Force and that drew her attention just as surely. Her gaze lingered in the distance, as if she could see across the town, and then she moved back to the cantina where the majority of their group had gathered.

"They're here."

"We lost a scout. We know," the man replied tightly, in the midst of organizing his soldiers. "A Sith at the least."

"Then don't fight it head on. Lure it in and make it a target. It won't be alone. I'll take care of the Sith, with your support."

The commander hesitated, staring at her through his helmet. Mediha stared back. She didn't see his gaze dart to the lightsaber at her hip, but she could guess that was where his eyes had gone.

"You can trap it."

"I can trap it."

After sharp orders were given, Mediha picked the location for the confrontation, a mostly deserted intersection away from the more populated places of the run-down town. If the Sith was coming for them, it could feel her. She hadn't bothered to dampen her magickal presence, and Force users recognized her as surely as they recognized one another. Mediha acknowledged now how close magick and the Force were, but there was always a difference to her, one she could never seem to explain to Darius. It might have something to do with the way in which the power was manipulated, but she would likely never have a real answer, only guesses.

As the soldiers took up places around the area, mostly hidden ones, Mediha turned her attention to letting her magick flow out of her to coat the area. She could lay a spell which would be undetectable until activated, and into it she poured her cruelty, her malice and her will to dominate all life she wove additional precautions in the event that the Sith was powerful enough to break the magickal hold which would ground her in place as soon as she entered the spell, the first and most obvious layer of the trap.

Stepping back to limit the angles from which one could approach or attack her, Mediha cloaked herself in magick, becoming invisible to the naked eye, and waited.

[member="Vega the Chaos Mage"]

 

[Vega the Chaos Mage]

Vega sat herself down among a fraction of her ship's wreckage, her amethyst gaze locked onto the droids proceeding into Mos Espa. She didn't believe they needed her assistance at the current time. All she needed them to do was take down the galactic soldiers in her way to save her the trouble and time. Or cut down their numbers, at least. However, that intention only remained up until something came into Vega's acknowledgement. Something the droids most certainly couldn't handle alone, or possibly even with Vega. She could feel it - much more clearer now she was out of the craft. She hadn't felt something so familiar since--

"Stop!" Vega called out, catching the attention of the droids who turned to face her a fair amount of feet back. The Sith lifted herself to her feet and approached the two droids, pushing herself between them so she could walk ahead. She came to a halt a good ten foot away from the two, her physique facing away from them as she went on to say, "Stay with the ship; make sure no one tampers or attempts to seize anything from the wreckage. I've waited long enough for this moment, and I'll see to it myself." With that, Vega proceeded forward into Mos Espa, scorched digits lingering at her respective sides as she followed the source of the familiar power. Apparently it resided somewhere in a fairly underpopulated area, which Vega found to be quite a relief. She only felt a quick spark of the energy before it faded, but that one ignition made her most certain it wasn't that which resided in the full flow of the force. No - this was something different. Something. . . Magickal.

Without considering the possibility of traps laying ahead, Vega went on towards the intended destination. The magickal sensation withdrew by the time she was within the borders of the location, but she could still feel its influence, almost like it was humming around her. Vega hadn't been around anyone but herself with this kind of power, so she took no notice of it. However, a hand still hovered at the weapon strapped to her side as a precaution. The area was silent. Eerie, but silent. It was hard to believe not one person other than her presented themselves within this place. Purple hues attempted to find another, but sadly failed. As a result, Vega continued to deepen herself within the area, turning on her heels as she spoke out to any nearby ears.

"I've been here - in this situation. Your alliance is a vast one, but here you lack the required numbers to achieve your goals towards victory. There is only one of you I wish to confront. The rest of you fail to reside within my care or curiosity. Come forward, and I will pursue you with violence no further. However, I have allies here with me. Allies that lack a conscience, and will kill any without blinking an eyelid in doubt. Not that they have any, anyway." Bold, but carefully said by the Sith. She was confident in her abilities in the situation she put herself in.

[member="Mediha"]

 

[Mediha]

Mediha was tired of dealing with the Sith. Always the same attitude: better than thou, threats cast about declaring how they could kill everyone with a thought or would graciously let them escape, the words always said whether they had the strength to back it up or not. Foolish waste of time. The Nightsister knew better than to dismiss an adversary out of hand and kept her guard up, but she found herself heavy with the thought of dealing with another acolyte who thought to get above herself just because she was surrounded by non-Force users. Mediha had seen soldiers fight on equal ground with Force users in the past; the best soldiers were ones who had learned to do so. Surrounded now by a dozen men with only two droids-- easily disposed-- at her back, Mediha chalked the stranger's words up to hubris with disappointment.

She activated the first level of the trap, cementing the Sith's feet in place, and then activated the second for good measure. Ghostly chains erupted from the ground and tethered themselves to her wrists and legs, twining around her with all due speed. Her movements were restricted, her body locked in place. She could fight the spell, if she felt confident-- some could break it with effort-- but Sith rarely understood more than brute force when confronted with magick; Mediha had safeguards in place for that. Rip free, and the next level of the spell would only be triggered.

Her eyes darted to the droids; only two there might be, but they would come to their mistress's aid. With a brush of her hand across her throat-- habit more than necessity guiding the action-- Mediha cast her voice like a ventriloquist, with it seeming to come from different locations as she spoke.

"Take care of the droids," she suggested to the captain through her comm. The soldiers were close enough that the shots would be easy; even if these were reinforced droids, it wouldn't take much to bring them down.

The captain gave a swift order over the comm and blaster fire commenced from several locations. She continued speaking, voice amplified to be heard. "Scare tactics don't work on experienced soldiers. If you didn't wish to pursue violence, you shouldn't have opened with it. Show me something interesting and we can consider talking."

[member="Vega the Chaos Mage"]

 

[Vega the Chaos Mage]

Magick of the old came to restricting her movements, entangling her limbs once she sprung the first trap. Vega fought against the restraints with physical force, tugging her limbs in an attempt to free herself and find this hidden source of power. It was out there, lingering somewhere from eye's current reach. But then it hit her, and she was quick to let the traps dance her like a puppet. She intended on drawing out the targeted source, but not like this. However, now she gave it some thought, it was perfect. This was in fact the magickal force she'd been searching for; the throbbing in her veins were the midichlorians screaming the answer to her. She'd finally found another, still breathing after the great fall on Dathomir. As a result, Vega let all of her resistance against the traps slide. Invest in enough focus and she'd eventually come to breaking herself free. But if she done that, she got the feeling her target would cease to be civilised. Amethyst hues wavered over the area, hunting for the source of the voice which came to reply. Again came that throbbing in her veins. If she weren't bound then she would have come to acknowledging the veins beating against scorched flesh. Didn't matter, though. As long as she could feel it she didn't need a second sense to acknowledge it.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have," 'But it was necessary', Vega would have also gone on to calmly had. But no arguments; it felt like they were alone now, just how she wanted, so no arguments. No unnecessary debates that stray from the desired task. She had a grasp on this Magick; it was definitely a spell, and one she intended on eventually getting out of. But not yet. The voice demanded something interesting, catching Vega's attention enough that she lifted her head even higher. So - she wanted something interesting. To that, Vega would happily cooperate, hopefully one Dathomiri relative to another. They'd have to wait and see.

From there Vega went on to replying via actions. Her eyes glided over the chains binding her wrists, ignoring her cemented feet for the time being. Once enough focus was invested, ethereal chains ascended from beneath the sands. With an echoing rattle to their movements they slowly laced around the chains which currently restricted her, then proceeded into contributing towards Vega's imprisonment. Vega saw it as a means of psychological warfare. Of course she was yet to confess that. Right now she was focusing on the chains casting translucence along the length of arms. They tightened, but didn't go too far into doing so. She was trying to make a point which wasn't suicidal.

"I've felt you - for a while now. Even gone as far as to kill in order to reach you." Vega eventually went on to add. For now the chains acted almost independently, dancing their way down her torso to coil around her legs. "Perhaps you think what I've done isn't justifiable, but if you'd have been looking for as long as I then I'm almost certain you would. Now - it would be most kind of you to release me. Like I said, I didn't come here to pursue you in aggression; however, I may have to do so to make my point if you otherwise fail to comply."

[member="Mediha"]