There’s a price on my head

[Jax Vandal]

Jax already had the odds stacked against him. Sith were well above his pay grade. Now two freaky shadow ladies was a bit much for the gangster. As the tall vampiric looking woman attacked [member="Jantar Keltainen"] he backed away, unsure of what to do. His arm shocked him as he felt the electricity arc up it. He quickly retrieved his weapon and retreated away from the scuffle. He wanted to walk away, but he had to see what would happen, who this woman was. "By all means ma'am." He said with false eloquence.

[member="Nine Lives"]

 

[SiRiDio]

Emerging from the dark the Zabrak covered in his black cloak his weapon hidden under his clothes his hood covering everything but his face " That Sith is mine lady " walking forward again he stood about 20 feet from both ladies making a sort of triangle " I was looking for stronger Sith but you will do just fine " reaching under his cloak pulling his double-bladed Lightsaber from his hip holding its long hilt in his rather large hands his natural blue eyes turning to the more notorious red and yellow as he drew on his Darkside tendencies " Shall we ladies ".

[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Jax Vandal"] | [member="Jantar Keltainen"] |

 

[Nine Lives]

She smirked under the hood, though nothing but the two glowing purple dots from the center of her eyes as her sword shifted a little, watching the two battle each other. The young man had heart but he was clearly outclassed in this. The Sith's weak protest of sisterhood brought out a cruel, deep laugh.

"Sisterhood? There are no sisters here. Just. Us..."

As the cybernetic man gave his consent, the woman readied her blade. Coiling for a strike when her Force sense flared danger as another man stepped out of the shadows, saying the Sith she was about to attack was his and no one elses.

"Oh, if you would just wait a moment I would soften her up for you." the Woman said, the robes hiding the motion of her legs as she stepped back, giving her movements the illusory effect of gliding rather than stepping, closer to the cyborg but still not quite close enough. Two potential opponents. Two on one. Not the sort of odds she favored. But she was no coward. He had a saberstaff as well. He had weaknesses. Her shoulders haunched by instinct as she readied to attack, free hand extending out in a clawed gesture as her body registered new prey.

Her Katana was readied. She strained, calling on the Force, letting it caress and envelope the ancient metal, giving it a purple tinge. It was difficult for her to concentrate hard enough, but eventually in those precious seconds before battle, the Katana glowed purple. The Force still answered, for all the good it had ever done her. The other man...what did his thoughts taste like? A couple of eaten birthdays would tell her much, she'd wager.

"You look succulent." the deep contralto of the woman uttered in a faux suggestiveness. "Fine then...Two meals.

She glided forward noiselessly, like someone had muted a sound system, but it was with the speed and precision of a hummingbird, her Katana traveling in a shallow vertical arc aimed at his weapon, the sword itself producing the only sound from her as she sliced the blade towards it as quickly as possible, balancing her posture and feet so the maximum weight of the blow would make it hopefully difficult to block, while the speed it was delivered with was meant to make it hard to parry. But it was a one handed slice, with some Makashi encorporated into it. It would not be impossible to counter.

She had not forgotten her original target either. She unleashed a stream of purple, non lethal psychic bolts in her direction, hopefully force her back, and open up a chance for her new "friend" to attack like he had before she had shown up. If the bolts connected, the effects could include migraines, lethargy, muscle spasms. One could not die no matter how many times they were hit...

But then again, it was not meant to. Her real concern was the staff. She'd fought a few duels against those so armed but they had been sporadic, and the fights tended to drag out more than she was comfortable. She wasn't one of those high ranking Sith with terrible power and purpose, though looking scary when she had to suited her just fine. But she was still, for all intents and purposes a parasite. A tick looking for a few drops of thought to grow fat for a little while on. A tick that perhaps, might just be a tad overconfident.

Still, she was a pretty big tick.

 

[Jax Vandal]

As soon as Jax saw the second sith he said, "That's my cue, I'll be seeing you princess." He winked at the sith woman and sprinted into the alleyway.

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Four moveable objects. Or maybe four immovable objects? At the very least, three random objects – three things outside of Jantar’s control.

Now three run-of-the-mill miscreants, she could deal with. Quite comfortably. But three significant players. Three potential opponents? That was a different story. Would it be three on to one or winner-takes-all, or some other variation.

And before she could think beyond this initial though, the odds changed. The one that had initially caught her interest was now the first to bail out. Or did she catch his interest? It mattered little now – he was gone…and then there were three.

Jantar considered the newcomer first. His aura said a significantly bigger player in the world of Force sensitives. And the cloying nature of his presence said he was a Sith – or thereabouts.

And he seemed to lay a claim to her. Jantar wondered why. Why was she suddenly top of everyone’s must-have list? The street-punk she understood, he was clearly a bounty hunter. All Sith carried a price on their head.

And the woman? Jantar suspected her intent was less fiscal and more corporeal – or at very least psychological. But the Zabrak? Jantar had no idea.

But he was full of posturing and Jantar felt as though she had a measure of him from at least this perspective. But the woman? She was an unknown entity in so many ways.

Jantar stood her ground. They were arranged in a kind of natural triangle, so she had no effort in keeping an eye on both – but it was the female that had the lion’s share of her attention. For she’d clearly dismissed the idea of any alliance and appeared to wish for Jantar to suffer at another’s hand. So, what was her angle? A voyeur? Some niche form of sadism?

Jantar sensed they’d both drawn on the Dark side. For her part, the red-head was pleased she’d conserved energy thus far. Against either foe she’d stand no chance in a pure battle of Force powers – but at least she wasn’t already tired and weakened.

Jantar’s attention was drawn to the sword – it glowed with the Force. To what effect, Jantar had no idea – but she had a hunch it wouldn’t be positive.

And there were those odd words again. In what context was she succulent?

But no sooner had she contemplated that notion than she sensed an attack. A stream of purple…something came her way. She instinctively threw up a Force Shield. It was one of many variations of Force Lightning her Master had taught her. It was not the most powerful form of Force Lightning, however; but it absorbed the energy being thrown at her and effectively replenished the Force energy she was expending.

“What is the karkin’ point of all of this,” she said out loud – and to no-one in particular. “What sort of a day is it, when a young lady can’t walk down the karkin’ street, seeking a little fun with a random Jedi, without having to contemplate some obscure ménage a trois? Honestly. Hands up if you think this is a good idea – and please note my own karkin’ arm isn’t raised!”

[member="Jax Vandal"] - [member="Nine Lives"] - [member="SiRiDio"]

 

[SiRiDio]

Watching as the women talked calling him a meal this shows confidence or arrogance, either way, it was short lived as she drew her weapon it was unusual this didn't stop her from attacking him igniting both sides of his double-bladed staff he blocked her swing spinning around he now realized why she was confident the left side of his blade began to short out quickly drawing on the force he leaped backwards landing.


" Unusual weapon you have there, maybe I was quick to make enemies if we continue surely you know my force knowledge outweighs your own but it Isn't you I want our goals can complement each other all I want is this wannabe Sith dead "


His second blade by now had reignited the temporary effects had now worn off knowing his lightsaber would be less effective in this situation he turned it off putting it back on his hip inside his cloak " What do you say " giving her a slight smile.

[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Jantar Keltainen"] |

 

[Nine Lives]

Nine grew rapidly (though perhaps amusedly also) pissed as three things happened.

One, that bounty hunter bailed, having finally had the sense to realize when was a good time to bail. There goes that plan. Now it was two against one.

Second, the woman Nine Lives had been planning on dining had thrown up some sort of Force Barrier she was not quite familiar with, only that it was of the Sith in nature, as was the Zabrak.

Third, now the Zabrak had pulled a swift retreat, keeping himself a fair distance from her and Hundred-Handed Giant, which still was protected by her use of Force Weapon.

Then things got very strange. The woman seemed to think this was a moment for levity. The glow from Nine's eyes maintained an unfeeling, cold stare from under the hood. A Sith who still had the capacity for actual humor beyond those malicious taunts and jokes she so often heard from them when they thought they were being 'suave' or something. Nine herself didn't bother acting suave. She drew her sword, there usually wasn't a whole lot of speech beyond 'Die', 'Back Off or Die', and, of course, 'Your last birthday is mine!'

The Sith seemed confidant, inspite of the fact his blade seemed to be giving him trouble. He might have reason...he certainly had the aura for it.

Kinda handsome too in a Dark Side-ish sorta way. Nine drove the minor observation from her mind, vestigial desires for a being no longer worthy of experiencing their joys. For her it was a sort of zig-zag when it came to feeding. She felt nothing for feeding on Sith...she'd drink the good ones from them all day, as they had long since proven to everyone else through their actions that they were fair game.

But then he proposed teaming up. And as much of a raging hate Nine had when it came to Sith...it had been a Sith who had condemned her to this state after all--she did not like fighting two lightsaber duelists. It had always been one on one with her. She could kill annoyances armed with pistols and even on occasion slice up a crowd's worth of swordsman in name only. But she had always taken her masters advice to never fight two lightsaber duelists at once if you do not have to seriously. As she had been catching up on history the truth of this advice kept coming up. Some savage named Maul had learned it in a reactor core on Naboo. And an old man had learned it trying to battle two Jedi more than forty years his junior on a capital flagship above Coruscant. Taking on two lightsaber users at once tends to end fairly unpleasantly. She'd seen it in her own days as a Knight how badly it often went. Though in the old man's case, pushing eighty and pulling out a red blade on two young men, one of whom was apparently a power duelist, the sort she didn't like facing, even if he had lasted longer due to extreme skill than most would have in his place, he was still practically begging for the outcome that had occured. The one on Naboo had been the same age as the combatants, and even had the weapon to take on two fighters at once properly, and he had still lost in the end (though judging by the spotty accounts she had managed to dig up, this had been more due to the momentary sin of overconfidence over an opponent about to fall to his death than the suicidal arrogance the old man had displayed, though in the end the result in both was much the same.)

The lessons of history dictated Nine's next decision. If it has to be Two-Against-One, never be the 'One' on that scenario if you don't have to be. Besides, she wasn't really sure she had the desire to go fighting every Sith she ran into anymore, like she would have if she had still been a Jedi.

She was, these days at least, merely a tired old woman wanting food she didn't even like really, beyond the fact it kept her breathing. She was not sure if she would ever be able to restore her honor though. Perhaps her evils had grown so numerous even ritual suicide could not remove the taint, the dishonor any longer.

Nine lives gave a slight sigh. She nodded to the strange Iridonian before fixing her full attention on the woman.

"Just one thing. Don't put a blade in her...before I've had 'my' fill" Nine Lives said with a deep chuckle at the woman, advancing noiselessly, gliding seemingly across the ground, though in truth it was a running sprint. Her Katana was in a vertical position, quickly descending on the Woman's legs with a small whistle through the air from the blade, the cold but glowing purple dots of her eyes staring with naked, open hunger.

[member="Jantar Keltainen"], [member="SiRiDio"]

 

[SiRiDio]

Watching as the women considered his deal she decided to team was the best option who would want to take on 2 combatants that were force sensitive with who she had no idea of their power level turning towards the other women who was a Sith he glared with intense hatred that could be seen and felt by even novice force users.

" I don't need to touch her I'm here to see all Sith die as long as you are willing to kill her I will watch for now I've got your back if anyone tries to interfere "

He did want a fight it's been awhile but his main concern was the death of all Sith as revenge for what they had done to him killing his Father and Mother for this alone they would all suffer and it seems he has made a new friend.

[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Jantar Keltainen"] |

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar could not count humility as one of her virtues, but neither was stupidity a failing. She would struggle to beat either foe one on one. Against both? It was not even close to a fair fight.

“I suspect you are each under the misapprehension that I am keen to die – or lose a limb or whatever disagreeable act you have in store for me. For if I chose to remain here and challenge you, that would be the only likely outcome. And it’s not one I’m prepared to face. Not now and not ever. So, unless the rhetoric changes to something more palatable, I’m going to have to bid my farewell.”

At that moment, the gliding woman attacked and Jantar performed a quick backflip to put some distance between them. “Now, now,” she said, “We were talking. That’s plain rude!”

@SiRiDio @Nine Lives

 

[SiRiDio]

Stepping forward following the battle that they were gonna begin " You will be going nowhere try and leave and I will interfere and kill you I will have honor and not join in your fight and after if you succeed you will face me you have no other choice "


Continuing forward he pulling his cloak hood down revealing his full face not just his eyes he reached into his cloak grabbing his lightsaber hilt.

" What are you going to choose "

[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Jantar Keltainen"] |

 

[Nine Lives]

Nine snarled as the Sith woman retreated from her cutting swipe, and then had the crass temerity to mock her. She was going to drink the last eighteen days of her life for that.

The glowing gaze of the first Psy-Pire continued to focus on the woman as she startedto advance, even as the other made it very clear she wasn't going to leave without fighting at least one of them. These lightsaber tag teams had always been notoriously nasty. These days everybody had a grudge against somebody. From what she had learned about this gulag plague, and how the last millennia or so had been a non-stop concert of misery, and that gulag plague, she wasn't surprised. Grudges were bound to have popped up. Light and Dark were still putting shivs made of plasma in things and people, so that hadn't changed all that much. That, she was familiar with. Could work with, if nothing else.

One of the things that still confounded Nine though was the near ubiquitous availability of alchemized products. Back in her day the simplest product, readily available now (by online catalogue no less), would have been jealously guarded, stuck in some vault and only handed out to the most trusted. It was a practice Nine was glad had not carried into the future.

Nine got an idea, decided to make things difficult for her prey. A minir distraction that would allow her to close the distance. She cleared her mind, trying to focus mysterious, chaotic energies that other Force Traditions had learned to rely on.

It was an old spell, an ancient one. She imaged in her mind what she wanted to do as she approached, guarding with her blade. Her shoulders were drawn up, an unconscious sign she was ready to attack.

She flicked her free hand out, pointing to the ground just ahead of the girls feet ans spoke out loud:

"Mother Nature, draw the world to where I point."

The spell of singularity worked thus: It created a weak Force-pull like effect, drawing any living being or loose object towards the exact spot she pointed at, hence, the name. The effect could be resisted and broken by even the weakest being with enough struggle, and that was without drawing on the Force. But the same could not be said for any loose or especially sharp object, which would ignore the fact she might possibly be in their travel path. She then sprinted forward in an ever ghostly manner, hoping to catch the woman while she was distracted, that was if she didn't manage to muster the strength to break the pull effect. She didn't look unhealthy but she had seen this spell catch even strong opponents off guard. It remained to see how she would counter it, but she would likely figure out she could just physically pull away.

But hopefully not before Nine's katana threatened to bite into the arrogant woman's shoulder.

[member="Jantar Keltainen"] [member="SiRiDio"]

 

[Jantar Keltainen]

Jantar was not necessarily the smartest Sith. She was well educated and had a good base of knowledge, but academic pursuits were not her forte. She would have been lousy at many so-called intelligence tests – if only because she did not have the patience to apply herself.

Yet, despite her privileged upbringing, she had bags of street-smart. And that always took precedent over her natural tendency to be arrogant.

Facing three adversaries was never going to work. She was pleased the street hoodlum skipped. Two onto one would work if she were one of the two – but she wasn’t – and her brain was quite quick enough to calculate the odds of survival as minimal at best.

So she had no choice but to bail. Suicide might seem a noble path, but not for Jantar, and attempting to fight either of them would be a challenge, let alone both. No, her time here was done and she would not waste any energy in the fray, rather she would focus her efforts on escaping.

Preferably in one piece.

She faced the Sith first. “Sorry to disappoint, but staying and dying or trying to leave and dying…they don’t work for me. Any option that has me not expiring here will get my vote. And I suspect that option involves me being somewhere else. No offense, but you’re way stronger than me. Why would I fight you? Why would you fight me? Shouldn’t you be out there finding someone your own size? Now that would be honourable, surely?”

Then her attention snapped back to the less direct one. Her unpredictability was a greater threat than the Sith’s direct approach. Jantar did not know what she was up against. And that was always a bad place to begin a fight from.

Her only hope was that this woman wanted a confrontation – and the Sith certainly did. If she could extricate herself from the situation, there was every chance they would focus on each other.

Jantar sensed the woman was calling on the Force. She had no idea why or for what purpose, but she would bet her favourite pair of boots that it was not friendly. And Jantar loved those boots. Hand-crafted, black stained, Firaxan Shark leather. In fact, she was wearing them right now.

And the woman advanced too – so Jantar crouched slightly, ready to react as and when she knew what might be coming her way.

She heard the words but had no inkling what they meant. On another day, she’d love to converse about what was clearly a spell – and how it worked. Now, however, was not a good time.

Jantar felt compelled to move forwards, to the spot the woman indicated – as did any bit of debris in the vicinity. Bits of paper, loose stones, an old bottle, discarded food – it all headed in the same direction. Jantar immediately recognised the type of spell. There were two types – mental and physical. Mental spells messed with your mind and had no real physical manifestation. They simply appeared real. These required mental fortitude to break.

The second type – the sort Jantar believed she was experiencing – were physical. These were real effects and so, unlike the mental attack, it required a corporeal response to counter. A barrier would be no good, she was being drawn forward – and it hadn’t escaped her brain cells that there must be a reason for it.

Jantar was a Vahla. She didn’t know it yet – in fact she might never know it – but right now she was oblivious to the fact. She knew she was extremely flexible – but didn’t know it was because her skeleton was mostly composed of thick cartilage rather than bone. Given weight would be the obvious antidote to being pulled – in many ways this felt somewhat like a Force Pull to Jantar – she was at a disadvantage.

So she did what she had been taught to do when subjected to a Force Pull or Push. The natural reaction is to oppose. At best this keeps you rooted to the spot and off-balance. At worst, you simply slow the effect and make yourself an obvious target in a different way.

So Jantar used the Force to jump in the direction she was compelled to travel. Using the dark side, she gained significant momentum in addition to what the woman had introduced to the equation. And although mathematics was not Jantar’s strong suit, she knew that adding two forces in the same direction compounded them.

So she travelled at great speed through the spot she was intended to go – and beyond, this breaking the hold. It was a bold move. It was a smart move. And it earned her a slash to the shoulder for her troubles.

The smell of fresh blood filled the air as the wound opened and liberally sprayed the ground and anyone close by.

“KRIFFIN’ KARK IT!” Jantar screamed. The pain was always a mixed blessing for the Sith. It fuelled her ability to draw on the dark side – but it hurt like pfassk. “Apologies if I don’t stay and chat, but I have an urgent hospital appointment I’ve just remembered.”

And she high-tailed it out of there as fast as her Force-aided legs would carry her.

[member="Nine Lives"] [member="SiRiDio"]

 

[SiRiDio]

The Zabrak watched as the women seemed to be using sourcery then launching at the Sith as she evaded she was not the most powerful and far less than careful the Zabrak was able to Force Sense feeling her want to leave and even some slight panic as surely her life was in danger after hearing her words his feelings were correct.


Seeing the Sith take off the Zabrak also lunged forward into a sprint using his hate towards all Sith fueling his Force Speed to make himself much faster than ordinary leaping over obsticles to chase her.


[member="Nine Lives"] | [member="Jantar Keltainen"] |

 

[Nine Lives]

Nine at first was miffed at having her spell outsmarted. She had a name for the wiggly ones like her, the ones that slinked their way out of traps like that with a cute little move:

Squirrel Sith. She loathed, loathed squirrel Sith. The jumpers. The ones who do all the fancy sprinting and cartwheeling. She hated this intimately, and hypocritically, for she did this herself at certain times and she knew just how frustrating it was...enough Sith Lords had just started letting out an unending stream of exhilirating profanity to let her know that, yeah, its that annoying.

But, interestingly the situation smiled on her...her heart sang as she felt Hundred-Handed Giant taste her flesh, seeing blood run down its wood-ring edge,

And she got exhilirating profanity on top of it all. This was a good day, or as good as it got for a parasitic wretch like her...she was fed well and she got to hurt a Sith. It was rather hard to go out when you're damned to hide to stay alive. But it was really interesting the frequency she kept encountering people who just enjoyed hurting Sith Lords. This era was rife with it. She rather liked that.

She really must get his name. Strapping young fellow like that who enjoyed hurting Sith Lords? That had been her, basically right after becoming this parasite. He wanted her dead more than she did. Given the ways Sith were infamous for making enemies, it was not hard to guess the reasons. Top ones were usually destroying a society, starting a war, blanket stuff like that that got people to go out and sharpen their knives.

Nine enhanced her speed with the Force to catch up to him, but more to catch up to her.

"Ruuuuuuunnn, little piggy. Run. It'll make the taste sweeter..." she called out, blood still dripping off her blade.

[member="Jantar Keltainen"]

[member="SiRiDio"]