Private Shot in the dark

[Tae'l Vizsla]

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Tag: Samara

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Coruscant, Level 1313. The decaying underworld of what was, supposedly, once the capitol of a great galactic republic. Aloy had told her stories about these republics. How they were all, every last one of them, doomed to complacency and corruption. While Senators and Jedi lived in luxury on the surface, it always boiled down to this durasteel-hellscape. Where the people of these great republics and mighty empires, lived the same lives for generations. Poverty. Murder. Spice Trade.
And the most dangerous hive of scum and villainy? Level 1313. There no authorities to beg for salvation down here in the dark. No Jedi to put vague hope into, not even a storm trooper to blame it all on. Maybe this 'Galactic Alliance' would be change the surface for the better. Manda knows the people deserved that much at least. But 1313? No one would ever get close enough to touch this place. Not coming from the surface. 1313 was a meat grinder, The Alliance would just be turning the handle.

There was only one redeeming quality to this place. The Rain. That liquid that fell from the pitch black ceilings somewhere way above. Maybe it was even real water, or maybe it wasn't. But damn did she love it. The one comfort on this several year journey. The one thing that could remind her of her first home; Kamino. It was almost worth it, the act of standing out here and just looking up. Watching the droplets fall on her visor...

Oh, but there was business down here. plenty of it. nothing she wanted any part in though. But alas, she spent these years down here with a purpose, and finally, it was starting to bear fruit.


Dressed in her armor and a thick hooded cloak, The young Mandalorian Twi'lek looked like every other mercenary and thug entering the little bar on this dying street. The Cantina Music played lively, masking the strange ✱jingle✱ of her star-spurs and pure-Beskar armor. Even so, it didn't cover up the bustling sounds of patrons, either cheering, fighting, or a little of both. Just rabble sorting itself out, nothing to worry about. No, she came here for another purpose. For Justice. Maybe vengeance. It felt like both sometimes.

She stopped right in the middle of the entrance, spotting her targets tucked away in a corner, far in the back. Just the feint Red of Death Watch armor. Not true death watch, not according to her definitions. But kriffing Traitors who wore armor made from their dead kin. Kin they consigned to the death camps of the Sith Empire, sacrificed in profaned rituals to create this perversion of their sacred metal.

She marched with purpose now, going straight to the dimly lit rooms in the back, lit only by the odd black-light that shone patterns on the reflec coated "clothing" of dancers. They might be hired, albeit poorly paid. But of course, in the lawless underworld of Level 1313, even the Jedi could prevent enslavement. She'd given up on that dream a long time ago.

"Get out." She said abruptly as she entered the room, The dancers promptly leaving in a hurry. Good. This would clean.

"The hell you think you're doing, little girl?" Their leader snarled. ​

He was a large "Mandalorian", armor clad and sporting some kind of carbine with a barrel thick enough to make Tayl consider her defensive options. Not that it would stop. It never did. Some said she never knew when to quit. Maybe they were right, but she wouldn't be today. Not till mother was safe.

"I've got business here."

"Not with us you don't. Kark. Off" The three men slowly stand. One resting some kind of scattergun over his shoulder, the other twirling some kind of vibro-knife to look intimidating. Thin, maybe Agile. But weak. He'll be the first one to die.


Their leader points his hulking gun right at her chest, tapping on her armor through her cloak. If only they knew.

"Fine. Make it pleasure"
She says in a bored tone just as she had from the beginning, earning a confused and certainly angry look from the pea-brained brute up front, signaling her that it was 'go time'. Should have worn helmets.

It was then the music changed.

The young Twi'lek was quick to bat away the blaster, activating her personal deflector shield from the vambrace, which would provide enough force to destabilize his grip and inflict an electrical shock, briefly stunning him while he began to writhe in pain.
Her leg was next, sweeping behind his and using the added leverage to spin him around and put him on his knees, then putting him in a sort of headlock. The perfect shield.

A shot bounced off his cursed Tal'beskar as the knife-wielding one drew a pistol to cover the range until he had a clear in for his knives. One even bounced off of her helmet, knocking her hood back and revealing the once-infamous Black Hand marking on her helm. She could see it in their eyes then. That hate. tinged with a very subtle fear. That hand once meant death to their kind, When the syndicate and Nite Owls waged their shadow crusade. Good to know that a rare few still remember.

Shaking off the impact, which left a slight ringing in her ear cones, She quickly lifted her closed right fist, making room for the old but timeless 'Starfire' plasma caster, which sent out a cascading stream white-hot plasma. Every bit as hot as a Jedi's lightsaber, but with far greater reach. The entire room was bathed in white and golden glow as the knife-wielding traitor caught fire. The beam had quickly sprayed from the gaps of his leg armor to his unprotected face, looking nothing more than a wax candle to her. a candle on it's last leg.

An agonizingly loud little candle. If only for a brief moment.

The scatter-blaster wielding Dar'manda though, he was a little faster. While his assailant was backing away with the boss, He had the bright idea to flip the table and duck. The only thing sparing his life really, as the beam was quickly moved, leaving a scorching trail of liquid durasteel on the surface of his newfound cover.

She growled, having hoped for to make this quicker. Fast and violent, that was her favorite.

Knowing that she couldn't do as well one handed in this situation, She retrieves her Hand-cannon, firing a single particle-bolt into his foot. Right at the toe where his boot armor cut off suddenly. He screamed briefly, collapsing to the floor Just as she activated her energy shield again, expanding it to it's full length to cover her torso, and slipped the barrel of her blaster through while using her off hand to hold down the hammer.

And like music to her ears, the low whine of the weapon's rotary cylinder, activated by the hammer she held down tight, had come to life.
Already her targeting systems were scanning the room, little targeting reticles bouncing around her vision behind the visor, briefly locking onto the near-melted one as he took his last, labored breath.

And she just... stood there. The patrons outside were running for cover and crying for help needlessly. The liquid steel and charred corpse sizzled in front of her. The Hand-cannon groaned, waiting to taste of traitors. But she didn't make a sound. Just watching. waiting.

The traitor lifted his blaster to blind fire around the corner, Only to have it shot out of his hand immediately, sending a stray scattering blast into the ceiling between them. The next time he reached out to retake his weapon, the hand was shot, burning a hole right through his glove and charring the skin with an explosive particle blast.

By now, Her bio-inhibitor chip had put her in a Mood. Regulating her adrenaline and dopamine levels in battle, it always kept her Cool. Collected. But Cold.
She marched up to the half melted table at a brisk pace, Gun and shield still up.

The traitor lunged at her with a vibro-knife, impacting uselessly on her shield. Despite his greater size, he couldn't seem to tackle the young Vizsla either. Though there was a degree of strain, She seemed to be holding him back with the shield, The man falling against it as she used her strength-enhancements, some Jaster Awaud's work during her cloning, to hold him there limply...

Despite his struggles, She was able to slip the gun through her shield, Rotary still spinning, planted right up against his belly where the armor cut off.





✱POP✱

✱pop✱ ​

✱pop✱ ​

✱pop✱​

Plasmatic residue sprayed up against her shield, among other things, the loud sound of explosive gunfire activating her crude hearing protection just long enough to save her the headache. And with a strained ✱grunt✱, She dropped the body to the side, looking over her shoulder for the boss she'd crippled.

He was in the middle of crawling away when she stopped him, Putting one foot against his armored back.

"Where. is. she" She demanded coldly, increasing the pressure on his back.

"Kark you!"

"Wrong answer..."
Removing her cloak and tossing it aside, She swaps to her disruptor pistol, kneeling with one knee in his back to better place the barrel against his head.

"Where is she?"

"Gotta be more specific, Vat-spawn!"

She sighs deeply, rubbing at one of her armored Lekku. So they really were spying on us.

"Apollyon. Is she still on Coruscant?"

"Why the hell would I tell you? Go ahead and kill me, worm! It won't stop what's coming" The traitor hissed.

Having had enough already, She quickly aims the disruptor pistol at the traitor's hand, firing a single disruption beam that instantly burnt a hole through the palm of his hand, nearly as big as the palm, and quickly expanding as more and more organic matter was super heated and anatomized. His pained shouts were satisfactory. A very small eye an eye, but it wasn't what she came here for.

"Is she here?"

"YES! You karking madwoman, she's here!"

"Thank you. That's all I needed."
Despite all the atrocities their kind had committed, She still opted for a degree of mercy, Standing and firing into the back of his head, ending his suffering instantly.

Her tone may have had an eerie calmness to it, but after holstering her weapon, The Mandalorian Twi'lek had balled her fist and briskly taken some kind of drink, Slipping a little drinking hose in to link her helmet and drink together, taking quick sips some glowing beverage that she truly needed in that moment.

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[Samara]

It's gonna be a long day . . .

A book is closed as a pair of amber eyes watched the scuffle between the group and this lone gunner, their aggression was a sight to behold as this young Twi'lek cleaned up rather quickly. Samara herself stayed back to simply watch and study what was going on. Once everything was over and the voices were down to one, Samara adjusts her tie before making her way over to take a seat next to this gunner. A few glances are thrown at the bodies, noticing the work of her master, these men were indeed her targets. But what now? One of these men could have given her more information . . . This is still fine.

A stranger wearing very different garb to everyone else takes a seat next to this young Twi'lek, surely an uncommon sight in this area.

"I couldn't help but notice you are after someone, and by the looks of it, they have someone you care about. I am open to being hired as a mercenary, as you can see my mm.. Taste in attire can get pricey, even more so when I have to get it cleaned so often."

The woman gives the Twi'lek a cheeky grin before taking a cigarra out of a suit pocket.

"I am always one for adventure anyway, you may call me Rose, my dear."

Their red gloved hand offers over a cigarra to Tayl, yet her hand retracts swiftly as her ears and eyes flick in the direction behind them. She stands and walks over as the man behind the half-melted table just faintly grunted in pain, not able to be heard by a normal ear . . . But obviously, Samara did not have normal ears.

Her force pike comes to life as anyone can visibly see the woman switch it to the lethal just before the tip of the pike puts them down. With a frustrated grunt, she retracts the pike back into its shrunken form before taking a seat back at the table.

"Back to what I was saying, I could use the credits. Hm and I ever much so adore hunts, and something tells me this one would be rather interesting indeed."

"Rose's" almost inhuman-looking amber eyes gaze at the Twi'lek as they give that grin once again.

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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

1 3 1 3

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Tag: Samara

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She had just turned when she saw the flaxen haired figure over her shoulder, casually taking a seat nearby. Tayl didn't say a word at first, just staring at them with a bottle in hand.

"I couldn't help but notice you are after someone, and by the looks of it, they have someone you care about. I am open to being hired as a mercenary, as you can see my mm.. Taste in attire can get pricey, even more so when I have to get it cleaned so often."

"I am always one for adventure anyway, you may call me Rose, my dear."

She didn't reach for the cigarra when offered, still just holding her drink and watching the strange mercenary. contemplating.
At the sudden appearance of a Force Pike however, She was quick to activate the shield in her offhand, blocking both herself and her drink from whatever mayhem they had in mind.

But to her surprise, The young woman had spun around and speared one of her victims, getting an audible grunt of pain out before he died. How did she know? Even Tayl hadn't heard anything, and she was usually pretty alert these days.

She just takes a slow sip of her drink before setting it aside and resting one hand on her hip.

"Back to what I was saying, I could use the credits. Hm and I ever much so adore hunts, and something tells me this one would be rather interesting indeed."

"This how you introduce yourself to every girl?" She asks, a slight tone of amusement in her words.

"You have my curiosity. But not my trust, not yet. So riddle me this; Why would a Mandalorian hire a mercenary to do their job for them?"

She leans herself on her arm against the wall, leaving the other on her hip still, watching quietly, waiting to see how "Rose" would react. Any subtle movements, expressions, a look in those Amber eyes. things she could hide behind a helmet that an Aruetii could not.

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[Samara]

Samara's sharp eyes would indeed flick in reaction to the movement of Tayl's hand as they placed it upon their hip.

"Trust me I don't normally prefer to introduce myself this way, but it isn't like this place doesn't have its fair share of strange encounters now hm? Curiosity is a start, it is something I can work with."

She chuckles a bit, taking the cigarra for herself.

"Mm not saying I will be doing your job for you, I will be doing it alongside you. No doubt as a Mandalorian you know the value in both bounty and mercenary work, I said before that I need the credits. I also need the action, sitting around here all day gets so tiring."

Samara lights the end of her cigarra, taking in a sharp inhale, smoke escaping from her lips soon after the chemicals had enough time to take effect.

"Of course, of course. Trust is never a freely given thing, I understand. But we cannot ignore what just happened, I had heard the faintest of sounds while you did not. Now isn't that useful? Mm I think so, usefulness is one of the most important things to take into account, if I have someone watching my back I for sure want them to be useful . . . Else we both die."

She turns and looks over at the bodies, then back at Tayl with a raised brow that was just noticeable above the shades.

"So who did these people take away from you? By your aggression it has to be someone important, wouldn't you want every useful hand to help you get back what you lost?"

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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

1 3 1 3

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"Of course, of course. Trust is never a freely given thing, I understand. But we cannot ignore what just happened, I had heard the faintest of sounds while you did not. Now isn't that useful? Mm I think so, usefulness is one of the most important things to take into account, if I have someone watching my back I for sure want them to be useful . . . Else we both die."

She crosses her arms then, Musing over it while the mysterious mercenary looked over the bodies.
"Several years ago I would have told you that I can handle myself. These days though... Mm. you've got my attention"

She didn't like bringing a stranger aboard this mission. A lot was riding on it, And having these kinds of skills on her side was indeed useful. Either she was getting desperate, or just soft.

"So who did these people take away from you? By your aggression it has to be someone important, wouldn't you want every useful hand to help you get back what you lost?"

"I treat every battle the same"

"But I might have been a little enthusiastic this time" She groans softly while pushing herself off the wall and stepping a little closer to Rose. Unlike before though, Her hands rested at her side, a little further from her weapons now. Of which there were plenty.

"Personally I don't believe you care," Her tone was almost monotone for a time, but almost a sigh too "But you're right. I do"

"These traitors, They work for another Mandalorian. A warlord who betrayed her people years ago. Put entire clans to the torch. She has my mother... one of them, anyway"

There is a brief moment of silence as she looks off to the side, almost in disbelief of the things she would say.
"Look... I can bring you to our meeting before the mission. But it's Mama's choice whether you come with or not. I don't have a lotta money left... But between the two of us, We can work something out"

"This going to be dangerous as chit though," She turns to Rose again, observing her expressions still
"There's more corrupted Mandalorians where these came from. They'll be armored like myself. Apollyon is no pushover.
And we're going right into the Wolf's Den..."

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

She gives Tayl a simple nod, taking a moment to savor another hit of the cigarra. As she exhales the woman shrugs before putting out her little vice, crossing her arms soon after.
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"I treat every battle the same"

"I can admire and appreciate such ferocity, battle is quite the flavourful thing is it not? The victory also being the bitter-sweet prize at the end, delicious."

Samara adjusts her suit for a moment before gesturing over to the bar, soon a drink slides to her.

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"Personally I don't believe you care,"

"Well, you have to cut me some slack dear! It is a little hard for me to care as much for someone I have never met before, surely you understand? Not saying I have no care at all of course, but I am more inclined to invest my emotion and care into a good friend, placing so much care and emotion on a stranger is just asking for trouble at some point. While I do pity what you and your people went through, I cannot say I have gone through the same, makes it a little hard to relate you know. I sadly cannot relate to being part of a family as well, but that isn't important."

While Tayl did hit the nail right on the head, Samara of course would never tell the full truth. She prefers to twist and corrupt to give even a hint of care, a web of lies you could say.

"Danger.. Almost everything results in danger, and it is within this time of danger that the strong grow and endure. If we cannot face our fears and be strong, then how are we supposed to defend whatever it is we hold dear to us? Think of going into this den as a test of strength, showing them all what a real warrior is like."

The honeyed words had been placed gently upon the web with care, only being sweetened further by Samara pouring half her ordered drink into a fresh cup for her newfound interest, a seemingly genuine yet venomous smile giving a false sense of understanding.

"I don't mind meeting other people who will be going into this den you speak of, I understand getting the approval of no doubt the leader of this little hunt. Besides, it allows me to learn more about your people. The many different cultures of the galaxy all have their own values and charms, and I adore a good study.. But with all of this out of the way, I suppose I should share a little more about myself before we go further, think of it as a minor pact of trust. Just a small bridge to allow us to connect a bit more hm? Rose is not my name, but since I trust you enough... My name is Samara."

She offers a red gloved hand, still calm and relaxed.




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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

1 3 1 3

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She followed the mysterious woman to the bar counter, Giving an apologetic nod to the poor bartender whose patrons she'd just turned to slag.

I sadly cannot relate to being part of a family as well, but that isn't important."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I've... Been there, once before. A long time ago"

Samara went on about danger and strength. Things any Mandalorian would have said, But that was the issue. Samara knew what to say, but did mean it? Who was to say she wouldn't take the money and run, She was hard up for cash anyway. Thinking on it, Could she be bought? The young Twi'lek had done mercenary and bounty hunter work before, Call her hypocritical, but it taught her not to trust mercenaries. Not Aruetiise anyway.

So she just stood there and listened, thumb in her belt as usual.

Then she was offered a drink. Half of what Samara was paying for, in fact. Despite needing the credits.
This caused her to tilt her head at the drink, staring for a moment before taking up the offer.
This meant she'd have to remove her helmet in front of a stranger, Something that, as a child of the watch, was mostly forbidden. In front of strangers at least, according to the specific sect she trained with. The idea was little uncomfortable, But wouldn't it be rude to refuse the drink?

But with all of this out of the way, I suppose I should share a little more about myself before we go further, think of it as a minor pact of trust. Just a small bridge to allow us to connect a bit more hm? Rose is not my name, but since I trust you enough... My name is Samara."

She tilts her head again, unsure what to make of this. Though, "I appreciate the honesty"

The Mandalorian takes Samara by the hand, Black and red leather meeting audibly for the first time, Her grip firm, but not too much. Just enough to be respectful, but show a degree of strength. Of which had been augmented in the lab.

"Okay, Samara. I'll play"
Then she took hold of her helm with the other hand, holding it by the chin and lifting until her face was revealed and Lekku slithered out, draping over her shoulder and jetpack. From what little was not covered in armorweave, They appeared to have kind of tribal tattoos about them, coiling up like briars overtaking a young tree. They were similar to the Ereboan-style eyeliner she wore, or perhaps had tattooed, Giving her the look of an alien hawk with tears falling down the side of her Radioactive-Green eyes, onto skin of a deep light purple color.

Her expression calm, collected. But almost cold in it's indifference, But still she spoke with a degree of enthusiasm uncharacteristic to the near-black lips it came from.
"I am Tayl, of Clan Vizsla. I'll bring you to learn"

Gently releasing Samara's hand, she turned to the table briefly to fetch her drink, raising the glass to the woman and drinking deeply.

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

"No need to feel sorry for me, as much as I appreciate the pity there are many like me."

She laughs a bit, fully aware that she herself wasn't anything special nor unique, merely just another born in amber.
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"I appreciate the honesty"

"Well of course! We both have things that should stay hidden, such things are for the sake of privacy of course. But since you have given me the time I figured my name wouldn't hurt hmm? It is a pleasure, Tayl of House Vizsla."

Samara takes in the details of their face, there was little her eyes couldn't see; In return, Samara takes her shades off and gently places them within a pocket. There was serene tranquility to her amber eyes, though this of course was a mask, just as her cheerful smile was.

"Let loose a little bit dear, I will hear anyone trying to sneak up on us.. Or sadly smell them."

She takes a glance at Tayl once more, inspecting their expression and behavior. Sam takes a sip of her drink before raising a brow once again, making it clear she had noticed something.

"Unless you have something else in mind? Perhaps you want to learn more about me, even more so once I spoke of usefulness?"

With a slight smirk, Samara placed her drink aside, tapping the handle of her force pike in a rythm.

"One can learn a lot about someone through a language not spoken by tongue, but by heart. It is a language every being can understand, that of combat. Do you wish to converse in this manner?"

It was indeed a tongue that everyone could understand, one that had existed long before these two. Samara kept gently tapping the force pike, almost in a playful like manner, inviting Tayl to dance if they wished to. Inside, the young Sith agent wanted them to accept.. After all, knowledge was indeed power.​

Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

1 3 1 3

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It is a pleasure, Tayl of House Vizsla."

"Likewise" She gives Samara a respectful nod, Beginning to understand this young woman a little better. Or that's what she thought, at least.

The drinking would of course continue. This Aruetii seemed to talk a lot, not quite so typical of a mercenary, But it was certainly more interesting than any Coruscanti politician or Imperial official, so maybe she wasn't so much like them after all.
She was sure to give them eye contact and as much attention as she seemed to be after, but maintained her typically neutral expression.

Well,

"Let loose a little bit dear, I will hear anyone trying to sneak up on us.. Or sadly smell them."

She shook her head a bit, having been told to "let loose" by so many Aruetisse these days, always asking things of her at the time.
Though, at the word "smell", She gave Samara a little side glance and the corner of her lip curled ever so slightly.

Tayl would resign herself to staring at the glowing blue liquid near the bottom of her glass, swirling it gently and watching the light play at it's surface, letting herself become absorbed in both it and Samara's oddly philosophical way of speaking.

That, and the rhythmic tapping against Samara's force pike. A funny little sound that was like music to her ears.

"One can learn a lot about someone through a language not spoken by tongue, but by heart. It is a language every being can understand, that of combat.

Then she stopped abruptly, nearly splashing some of the drink onto the table, though it was too far gone for that.

Do you wish to converse in this manner?"

It was the first time she had genuinely smiled in years. A toothy, almost grin, that exposed a pair of almost cat-like fangs in the corners of her mouth. "Like I said," She turns to Samara

"I'll play"

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[Samara]

The web had been tugged, and so the spider came. Samara simply gives Tayl a nod and then a smile, gesturing for the both of them to exit the building.

"Best that we find ourselves a place away from here, they already have to clean up your mess and get a new table anyway."

She laughs again, giving Tayl a "Come, come" gesture before they leave the building. Once outside she tries to look for a nice spot, damn this place was busy..

"Trying to find us a spot where no damage would be done, or where no one will complain about it."

While looking for a place, another question comes to mind.

"We both will be using just melee correct? Or do you plan to use your gun? I will of course make sure my pike is not on its kill setting, can't say it won't still be painful though."

Sam snickers, her own dagger-like canines on display for a moment. Soon she finds a silent little spot away from things, taking her place a distance away from Tayl, around 10 feet to be exact.

"To the victor be the glory!"

The pike extends and Samara takes position in what appears to defensive stance, yet she had steadily inched closer, stopping around 8 feet away from the Mandalorian. It was hard to tell if Sam was being purely defensive or simply setting up for aggression.

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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

1 3 1 3

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"Best that we find ourselves a place away from here, they already have to clean up your mess and get a new table anyway."

"I know, I know..." I sulks like a child being chastised by their mother, Following Samara out of the building but tossing a number of credits on the counter as she passed by. Probably enough to pay for the show the Dar'manda were enjoying.
"Sorry about the mess"

She didn't say much at first, just cradling her helmet beneath one arm and following Sam, sometimes checking over her shoulder, just to make sure there was some form of basic rear security.

"We both will be using just melee correct? Or do you plan to use your gun? I will of course make sure my pike is not on its kill setting, can't say it won't still be painful though."

That sharp smile of hers was entertaining, Tayl having taken a liking to dangerous and playful things, But she couldn't help tilting her head when she gave Samara a sarcastic, but confident smile.

"We'll see, Samara. We'll see"

"I'd never spar with a blaster. Best save that for the VR chair"​

Once their dueling grounds had been chosen, Tayl slipped her helmet back on, Taking her position opposite from Samara.
Her won stance was much more subtle, Southpaw stance, with her right foot forward and left hand raised, while the left stayed closer to her hip.

Despite being visibly armed to the teeth, She hadn't drawn a weapon. Yet.

"To the victor be the glory!"

"Now we're talking...!" If one were to take Samara's philosophy of combat literally at least.

Tayl too closed the gap, but only by a few feet. Her stance was maintained, Her focus on Samara's footwork from behind the void-like visor between her own expressions and Samara's. Though she had told Samara that she treated every battle the same, That didn't mean she fought every battle the same. And seeing a polearm wielding mercenary in a clearly defensive stance was asking to be baited, she knew that much. So for now, She too remained defensive.

The gap was closed by a few more feet, leaving about four feet between herself and the end of the pike, slowly circling the mercenary.


Then, using her neural-link to control the armor without need for a hands on approach or her opponent seeing it, Tayl activated her Scan-pulse module, highlight Samara's body and weapon in an orange-glow across her visor, highlighting the edges to make her movements just a little more obvious to the young Mandalorian.
While Tayl could see just fine in this dim environment, I a little edge couldn't hurt

Once comfortable with her visuals, Her Personal-shield activates, seemingly on it's own, bathing her figure in a soft blue light.
It worked well in her opinion, in conjunction with the southpaw stance, giving her ample opportunities to parry if need be.
But more importantly, it might be a little more distracting then her seemingly empty hand.

With this in mind, she steps forward abruptly, Extending the shield to cover almost her entire torso from this range and to provide another sudden and flashy distraction to the mercenary, while simultaneously jerking her offhand up just a little, shooting out her Fibercord whip to wrap around the pike, intent on wrestling it from her opponent's hand.

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

A rush of energy, minds set on glory!

The pair of deep amber eyes keep track of their target, watching as Tayl's shield came on. To their utter surprise, the Twi'lek had wrapped a cord around the pike. Samara turns on the magnetic clamps, tugging the end of the pike downward as they pointed it at the Mandalorian's feet. This maneuver would knock them to the ground just as the tip of the pike is sent right at their lower chest, sparks of electrical current now surging through the end of the force pike.

"Think I can't be aggressive?!"

The Sith agent growls out, her ferocity for combat being shown. As stated by Samara, one can learn a lot about someone just from how they are in combat. This gave a hint that Sam was not as calm and collected as one might see on the surface, for under the surface was that classical venomous Sith rage.

Tayl, no matter if blocked or not would suffer the blow from the currents as the force pike jabbed into their lower gut. While they were stunned, Samara once again uses the magnet clamps to move her opponent. This time performing an upward sweeping motion to send them a distance away again. . . Around back where they were before, all the while Sam tries to remove the cords from the pike. Trying her hardest to shake them off or see if the currents could fry it off, making the agent too distracted for a time as they even tried to see if the vibro blade would do the trick.






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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

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One could indeed get a feel for the true self in battle. A time when one didn't have time to think, to carefully construct a mask.
It already told her much about this Samara, how she drank in the pain of her opponents, how the red storm brewed within. Tayl understood the love of battle, that almost primal vice somewhere deep inside every living thing. But to Tayl, it was the rush that she lived for. Fought for. But also honor, and creed.
She was tight lipped in a fight, calm. collected. Killing was the objective, Pain and suffering were merely side effects. Ones she often avoided if possible, when Dar'manda were no longer concerned.

But Samara's voice stung as the pike did.

✱Ah-Aaaah-agh!✱

Her choked groans of pain were cut off when she was yanked and then thrown to the ground, skidding across the duracrete backstreet.

Samara's placement of the pike intrigued her in that moment. She wondered if they had chosen to strike the gut simply knowing that most Mandalorian armor was missing a plate near there, or if she simply relied on the conductivity of the pike and beskar armor. But there was little time to think of that right now.

She was quick to fling herself back on her feet after taking a moment to breath, groaning a little. But seeing that Samara was still trying to get the cord untangled gave her hope. The smart rope was designed to spin and coil around a target many times once it had detected a successful hit, meaning that Samara wouldn't be getting rid of it anytime soon...

In one burst of movement, Her jetpack flung her forward at great speed, all while her whipcord began to abruptly retract, yanking the pike off balance and perhaps from Samara's grip now that she was operating it one handed. Meanwhile, Her personal shield came to life again, And knowing that the deflector could cause painful electric surges or outright knock out a target with sufficient force applied, swing it outward at Samara.

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

Anger.​

---

She had been caught off guard, her other hand tried to grapple the force pike.. Yet not only was it too late, but she could not use her force powers, this would give away everything. Instead Samara tries to keep the pike for a moment, yet decides to let go of it right as they notice Tayl flying in. Sam is struck hard, sending her onto the ground just as she did to Tayl beforehand. But one does not have a will of steel to simply fall over after the first hit, it was her passion for victory that allowed Sam to stay awake despite the painful surges from the shield that jolted through her system.

"RNNG.."

She growled, being sure to quickly get back up on her feet. It was tough, but she managed to remain conscious. Sadly now that her force pike had been taken away, it was clear by the expression on her face that the woman was backed into the corner. While her hand was tempted to reach for their saber just out of sheer spite, but they hold off from the idea.. Not letting rage get the better of them within this moment.

Her mind tried to think of a way out of this and to continue the fight, it had been too short for her liking.. Yet no matter what she tried to think of, Samara came to the realization that without blowing her cover she could not continue this spar. She huffs and gives the mandalorian a bow, though this memory would be carved into her mind, always itching at the woman's nerves.

"I am disarmed and without a backup, congratulations on this win, Tayl of house Vizsla."

Samara faintly smiles, quick to cover up any venomous bitterness. She reaches out her hand, gesturing for her pike back.

"As much as I would have loved to continue, I was mere moments away from being subject to that cord once again, and with no way to cut it. Maybe we can do this again at some point, I have learned from this spar."

More information had been gained on Samara thanks to this short spar, she was more durable than one would expect.

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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

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Tayl had stopped several feet behind Samara, having taken a knee the strain that pike had inflicted on her body. It wasn't until she saw Samara's confused and agitated face that she realized the spar was over, And forced herself to her feet.
"Thank you, Samara. I too have learned"

About both herself and her new ally. She needed to be more careful, mindful of these new weapons and of Aruetiise in general.
On the other hand; Thus far, Samara struck her as a learned warrior not unlike her Vode, but one that may be a little hot headed underneath their calculating and Gentlewomanly demeanor. She enjoyed more then the fight. She enjoyed victory, And to stand over the bodies of the losing side.
Too bad she wouldn't get that satisfaction today.

Still, she fought admirably, and with much more skill then she had anticipated, Which had earned her respect regardless.

After recovering, Tayl untangles the cord from Samara's pike, Retracting it back into her vambrace where it belonged.
Then she approached Samara with the pike in both hands, Performing a low bow of her own as she presented the woman's weapon respectfully.

"It's a fine weapon, Wielded by skilled hands. I admit, I'm impressed. I'm not used to losing melee, and I nearly did"
Once Tayl had removed her helmet, it was clear that Tayl had actually broken a sweat beneath, and was still breathing a little more heavily than she usually did. Still, she looked pleased with the results.

"I should consider new melee weapons. Even if I had my Beskad, It'd still conduct electricity, And my knives just don't have the reach"

Once the exchange had been completed, Tayl went to sit on some discarded crates, Stretching from side to side a little, flexing sore muscles and spinal column that still felt just a little off after the sudden voltage.

"Honestly, I think that fight might have gone differently, Had you a secondary. I have a humble collection on my ship if you want a new dagger?"
From suspicion to gifts, Tayl could hardly believe she was even offering. But Samara had impressed her, and a gesture of faith to a a warrior you'd be fighting beside couldn't heart, in her eye.

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

Confusion marks the woman's face, this was not the type of treatment she expected. To her she had lost the duel, and from her own foolish mistake no less.. This bugged Samara's mind like an unscratchable itch, triggering part of her deepest fear along with bringing disrespect on her master that taught her better. Her deep seeded panic and anger was kept well hidden however, she could not allow yet another mistake.

However, the respect shown had reminded her that this wasn't a life or death game this time, merely just learning. And we learn through strife do we not? Suffering and strife are the very things that can forge someone into the person they always wanted- no, needed to be.

"I.. Thank you, I must admit I have only just recently picked up the pike. I am used to swords, I used to have one of my own yet I had lost it. I would prefer not to talk about it, the story is long and it contains private information I hate to talk about."

Her brow raises as Tayl spoke of something that sounded familiar yet foreign at the same time.​

"I should consider new melee weapons. Even if I had my Beskad, It'd still conduct electricity, And my knives just don't have the reach"​

"Beskad? I swear I have heard of this word before, it is a sword correct? Excuse my lack of knowledge about your people; One could say I was almost born yesterday."

She chuckles for a moment, her amber eyes gazing over the Mandalorian.

"Your skin is not mm.. Tarnished is it? Even the stun setting on this pike can leave nasty burns, almost as bad as the shock itself."





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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

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The confusion on her opponent's face sparked sort of pity or understanding within the young Twi'lek, Telling a story of a harsh life and perhaps harsher upbringing on Samara's part. Perhaps something akin to her own, but without the comradery and guidance of her Vode to lean on. She used to think she had it the worst in this galaxy. But since coming here, dwelling in twilight for so many years, She had collected so many stories that all ended the same.

"Beskad? I swear I have heard of this word before, it is a sword correct? Excuse my lack of knowledge about your people; One could say I was almost born yesterday."

"Your skin is not mm.. Tarnished is it?

"Hmh. I get that, more than you might know" She nods slowly, looking at the dark void elsewhere, and nothing else until she had thought of a way to explain these blades to Samara.

"Beskade are a type of sword only produced by Mandalorians" The she turns back to Samara, Carefully drawing a stylized Dagger from a fine wooden sheath at the small of her back.
It was presented in both hands as to show off the distinct shape, Tayl running a gloved finger along the dull side.

"They were often wielded alongside these parrying daggers, or "Kal". You can identify them by their distinct shape, becoming wider near the tip. This one, Is an updated variant forged by my clan. My mother, Actually. It's based on the Original Beskade of the Neo-Crusaders, who fought the sorcerers across the galaxy thousands of years ago, maybe even more"

She flips it in the air, catching it by the hilt in a reversed grip to expose the additional parts, pointing out each little update her mother had installed, one by one.

"The oldest were made of Beskar, because, with enough force, it was one of the few things that could pierce heavy plates of pure beskar, long ago. This was slowly phased out, and this one in particular is made from Mandalorian Steel Alloy, With a Mullinine Edge filament. Light, Durable even against a lightsaber, and holds an edge well, Even has a field disruptor, for cutting cowards through their energy shields"

She then slides the gleaming blade carefully back into it's polished sheath, Leaning forward on her elbow against her leg with a slight smile on her face, proud to wield such a fine weapon, even if this was only the dagger equivalent. Hell, she was proud of the whole collection. Blades in general, she couldn't get enough.

"There's another little bonus, But I think I've shown off my mother's handiwork enough for now. Best save the best for last, right?"

"Your skin is not mm.. Tarnished is it? Even the stun setting on this pike can leave nasty burns, almost as bad as the shock itself."

"I mean, It kriffing hurt!" She snickers, tapping at the gut of her armor "My flight suit is insulated, I guess. I'll have to check later, But I'm definitely going to be sore awhile. Damn thing had me wriggling like an Eel..."
By the somewhat sing-song tone in her voice, she was beginning to loosen up and appreciated the concern from her sparring partner.

"Color me curious though, I notice you targeted the gut? Which still kriffing burns by the way. Were you expecting the plate to cut off just above like those traitors in the bar? Or just relying on the shock to conduct through the armor? I ask because we'll be fighting them later. Pretty damn sure Mama will welcome you" She says with that fanged little smile of hers

"I can teach you more about the armor, in case something happens to the pike? Different types and where to hit 'em, things like that"

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[Samara]

"A parrying dagger even, so this blade is meant to be used in conjunction with the sword.. The Beskade. This makes sense to me, I of course am not one of your own, but I can respect a good blade and warrior. Do you share the same interest in weapon forging as your mother? I cannot say I know my mother, but I do follow in the footsteps of my father."

Tayl then questions why Samara had focused the lower gut of all places, causing Samara to gesture at the place of impact.

"A lot of important organs are held neatly within that spot, and while someone is on the ground that spot is easier to land a hit on than the chest.. I am used to having the lethal setting on, with the stun setting I can strike anywhere really but I suppose I struck there out of pure habit. The lower gut, groin, or knees are all fantastic places to pinpoint. While places like the knees are not as much of a lethal spot at first glance, we first have to take into account that most things are rather fond of living and will try anything they can to spot that blade from striking their face or heart. More powerful targets need to be exhausted first before you can strike the killing blow, after all the hunter normally tracks the trail of blood does he not?"

The general idea is that most targets will not go down as fast as you would like, you must bleed them out. A very primal way to look at it, but it was true. This old age ideal of bleeding the target out had existed since beings started carving rocks, though, of course, Sam adds her own refined flair to it all.

"For how useful you make out this Beskade to be, why not wield this blade? Is there a reason you keep it away within your ship of all places? A fine tool such as that deserves to be used by skilled hands, blessed with glory."

She crosses her arms behind her back, taking a professional pose while giving Tayl a raised brow and faint grin.

"Then again, if you do not wish to use this blade. You did offer a blade to me after all and with my knowledge I could use it to great effect, skilled hands equal great results after all! But, if you do not wish to part with it then I understand of course."

Taking one arm away from her pose, Samara points at Tayl.

"As for the burns, it is best to treat them as soon as you can. Do you have any burn ointment that you can apply to your skin? Catching the burns early helps stop the skin from being red, sore, and irritated. Your jumpsuit and armor will scratch at the skin until the pain becomes worse, you wouldn't want to go into this den while scorched skin claws at your mind."





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Tae'l Vizsla​

 

[Tae'l Vizsla]

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Tayl sat back and listened to Samara with curious ears and wandering eyes, those glowing little stars observing each movement and expression much the same as this mercenary did. So far, she respected her professionalism, even if she found it unusual for a mercenary down this far. A part of her wondered if this woman had once been a soldier or perhaps something greater, but she wouldn't pry. Not directly at least.

Unlike Samara.

"For how useful you make out this Beskade to be, why not wield this blade? Is there a reason you keep it away within your ship of all places?

"Mm." She folds her arms, leaning back while she mulled it over. Though, a cheeky little smirk grew at the corner of her mouth again
"Beskad. Beskade would be many war-blades. The 'E' represents our plurals, in Mando'a"

"As for said Beskad," Her expression became more... uncertain. Eyes averted and squinting into the dark
"It's a long blade. Best suited to dueling and war, In my opinion. Meant to batter defenses and tired out a foe"

More powerful targets need to be exhausted first before you can strike the killing blow

"Admittedly more suited to your particular... flare. My fights lately have been more like that bar back there. Very close, very quick, very precise and violent.
I need a smaller blade to fight in the shadows. Not the way I liked to fight a few years ago, But it's the battlefield I'm often given"

"I'll... I'll have to think it over. It's one of a rare few mother made. A true Vizsla Dueling sabre. Modeled after an old relic that's been in her family for generations, sort of like uhm. Big Iron" She chuckled awkwardly, patting the hulking war-machine stuffed into an unusually large and leathery pistol holster strapped down to her thigh.

"I guess you're right though," Tayl stood abruptly, scratching at the back of her armored Lekku and beckoning Samara to follow with the other hand
"I need to tend these burns. I've got an IFAK as always, but my ship has replacements so. I can go over that armor, just in case you ever lose the pike again, demo with the Beskad, and... think over your suggestions"

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Samara​

 

[Samara]

She glances off to the side for a moment before giving a simple nod.

"Ah, I see. My apologies, I do not speak the tongue of your people so I am prone to such mistakes. As for the rest of what was said.."

A small smirk forms on her face as her form is spoken about, it did have a flair about it that was for sure.

"My form and footwork were things I had learned through training of course! Everything I know I learned from my father, hard lessons give refined results."

The agent chuckles to herself, following behind Tayl as they made their way down the streets of 1313. Samara had a prep to her step, inspecting her force pike as the two eventually made it to the ship.

"This your ship? I should get one for myself at some point, using public transportation just isn't my style.. Anyway, let's get you patched up now yes?







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Tae'l Vizsla​