Ask Umbara Angst

[Zorya]

Outside the crumbling entrance of the Sith Academy on Umbara, Zorya stood motionless, her obsidian eyes reflecting the faint bioluminescent glow that pervaded the forsaken planet. Initiating its meticulous resuscitation, she'd deftly exploited a flaw of her own design in the Umbaran airspace, a cunning stratagem. A resource conduit had been established, a pulsating lifeline from the freshly annexed Sith Warehouse on Zeltros, via the cosmic arterial road of the Great Kashyyyk Branch hyperlane, feeding the insatiable maw of the restoration endeavor.

The Sith Academy, a dilapidated edifice of mottled stone and twisted iron, was a monument to the passing of epochs. Its decrepit ramparts bore the scars of neglect, a macabre testament to millennia of disregard. Mired in an atmosphere thick with ancient regret, the ruins whispered of forbidden knowledge, of a time when the acrid smell of the dark side had seeped through its crumbling halls.

The facades had been enshrined in spiky tendrils of Zabrak Spines, their ethereal red glow intertwining with the dour murkiness of Umbara. Creaking trees of Death’s Embrace stood sentinel, their carnivorous flowers laying dormant in the eternal night. The once opulent chambers echoed with silence, choked by the dust of ages and adorned with the spectral remnants of Umbaran frescoes. The sheer majesty of the forgotten lore housed within the derelict halls was as intoxicating as it was desolate.

O'bog had flitted around Zorya like a boisterous wisp, barking at the worker droids in his hearty drawl. "To the left, ya clanking metalheads! Don’t scuff the stonework! It’s older than yer granny’s cogs!" He had stirred the metallic creatures into a frenzy of activity, his capers injecting a semblance of life into the desolation. Zorya, maintaining her eerie silence, had found comfort in O'bog's antics.

A subtle change in the air, a ripple in the Force, had drawn Zorya's attention. She had felt a presence approaching.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Kaldar's place in the galaxy had become much more uncertain in recent days. After the fall of the Sith from the Empire, his master had taken them into the Outer Rim and away from the rest of the Sith. Away from the Dark Lord and her call.

Kaldar hadn't agreed, and after biding his time, he had struck out against his former-Master and slain him. Now, however, things became more complicated. He had few contacts among the Sith, he had been in isolation, and he knew he couldn't work alone.

He had spent the last several weeks reconnecting with the Sith Order again and reestablishing himself and his loyalty to the cause. Still, having been on his own for the better part of a year had its advantages. His ship (formerly owned by his master) wasn't on any government systems, and it allowed him to pass cleanly through the galaxy without being noticed by most.

He hadn't expected his trip to Umbara to be very successful, but what limited records he had indicated that the planet had once been the home of a base to train Sith assassins many years ago. The kind of location that was hidden and forgotten to all but the Sith, and one that might serve the Order well now.

Imagine his surprise, when he arrived to find the location was already, well perhaps just shy of "bustling with activity" but certainly not the deserted building he had anticipated.

Ensuring his lightsaber was well hidden, he drew closer, moving at a steady pace that was neither loud nor stealthy. He wanted to be discovered, but he wanted to do it without startling anyone so badly they might get an itchy trigger finger.

Pirates? Looters? Other Sith? he weighed the options in his mind as he emerged from the string of foliage around the academy and into the open. Just play it casual. You are just a scavenger, here to take a look, he told himself, rehearsing the story he intended to sell when he was discovered.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya's inscrutable gaze landed on the approaching figure. A newcomer, nonchalant in his approach, each step echoing an ostensible casualness. Her keen eyes, reflective of the surrounding shadow, assessed his physicality - an athletic build within a tall frame, crowned with tufts of brown hair. No overt threat radiated from him, yet the ambiguity was as enticing as it was alarming.

Inside her silent fortress of thought, scenarios spun, each potential identity unique. Could he be a comrade-in-arms, another Sith whose arrival had been clandestinely unannounced? Or possibly a treasure hunter or smuggler, though the likelihood seemed miniscule; the barren husk of the Sith Academy offered little to pillagers. A Jedi then? His countenance certainly bore the marks of physical training.

Underneath her impassive exterior, Zorya bristled with quiet anticipation, her intuition tingling like the edge of a plasma blade. With a mental beckoning, she summoned the boisterous O'bog to her side, a touch of caution seeping into her command.

Ever obedient, the mischievous Ximpi veered towards the stranger, a garrulous question spilling from his lips. "What's a spry fella like yerself doin' in this godforsaken hovel, eh?" His pointy teeth curved into an impish grin, the gleam in his eyes a direct echo of Zorya's curiosity.

Zorya, under the guise of indifference, observed him intently, the merest twitch or hesitation from him and she would be ready to escalate the situation.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

There was a part of Kaldar's mind that said this was a fool's errand. That walking into a situation that he didn't fully understand against droids of unknown capability and an "opponent" of unknown origin was really dumb. But he was feeling okay about it.

His eyes scanned smoothly over the area, seeing no indication of the droids being armed but not taking that for granted. The woman had eyes that were piercing, in their own way a predatory gaze, and one that told him he shouldn't overplay his hand too much.

The little imp, on the other hand, was the one to break the silence and alleviate the mounting tension if ever-so-slightly.

I was going to see what was what in this old academy, but I see I'm not the first. Who do I have the honor of speaking to? he asked. Although his attention was still on the woman, he couldn't help but look over the remnants of the academy.

It had fallen far from its days of training elite killers for the Sith Empire. But that was what 1000 years of decay could do to you: leave you gutted and a shell of your former self. Some people might say that was what happened to the Sith, but Kal's view on the matter was still up in the air.

Quite the coincidence with both of us showing up at the same time to a place that's been abandoned for so long. You believe in fate? he asked.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya scrutinized the stranger, her gaze tempered with a certain tranquility. His seemingly sincere words siphoned off the tension around her.

The irrepressible O'bog piped up, an uproarious mix of grandiosity and obfuscation. "Well ain't you the polite one? I'm O'bog, the handsomest Ximpi this side of the cosmos, and this silent beauty here is Zorya, my esteemed companion," he added omitting any mention of their affiliation with the Sith while they gaged the man's proclivities.

Zorya paid heed to Kaldar's words, picking apart their underlying implications like a cryptographer decrypting an ancient code. His casual reference to the ruins as the 'old academy' sent subtle ripples of surprise through her mind. This was not common knowledge; the academy’s legacy was a dim echo even in the minds of the Sith. Was this an orchestrated visit?

Unleashing a laugh that sounded akin to the tinkling of broken glass, O'bog retorted to Kaldar's philosophical musing, "Fate, is it now? To me, it's like a kath hound chasing its tail, ending where it started. Now ain't that a jest?"

To Zorya, fate was a spectral chameleon, its hues changing with every choice, every action. A personal memory surged into the forefront, a time when she stood at a crossroad of paths, her decision to tread the shadowed way of the Sith changing her life irrevocably. To her, fate was a design sketched by actions, every past decision leading inexorably to the present moment.

Breaking her introspection, O'bog posed a question to the stranger, a cheeky glint in his eyes, "And what about you, tall and broody? Who are we having the honor of chattin' with?" The persistent question hung in the air, mingling with the shadows, a challenging gauntlet thrown down in the midst of intrigue and unexpected camaraderie.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Kaldar's mind worked quickly off the imp's words. Silent companion? Interesting. There was a certain menace in the air, but Kal couldn't tell yet if that was coming from his new acquaintances or simply the academy itself.

Maybe, Kaldar shrugged nonchalantly as the imp laughed off the comment about fate. For his part, he wasn't so convinced. Fate and destiny were funny things and contentious across the galaxy. The Sith liked to fancy themselves as all powerful, driving their own destiny, sometimes even setting themselves up as gods on some worlds, but Kaldar wasn't convinced they didn't all just dance to the Force's tune. No matter how hard they may try otherwise.

Mm, broody? he repeated with a quirked eyebrow. And here I thought I was being charming, he said, walking forward now close enough that he could have reached out and touched one of the droids.

Kal, he introduced himself, his gaze seemingly pulled once again to the droids. Got a lot of manpower - or droid power - here. Are we... excavating or looting? he asked.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

As Kal inquired about the purpose of the droids, Zorya could sense his clever acuity. Deception would likely yield little benefit with this one. His keen gaze might have already discerned the truth amongst the moving machinery and imported Zeltron steel. Robotics was not Zorya's forte, she left that to her droid underlings and the intricate blueprints woven by her strategic mind.

O'bog chimed in, "We're not savages to be picking over the bones, lad. This here's a resurrection project, breathing life into old stone."

To Zorya's silent approval, O'bog took a leap further, a challenge embedded in his impish tone, "How 'bout it, lad? Fancy getting your hands dirty for an honest day's work? Any experience lifting heavy things? A strapping fellow like you could be handy in a project like ours." Whether refused or acquiesced, that would provide Zorya with another piece of the puzzle as her enigmatic mind attempted to unfold the mysterious personage's true intentions.

Whilst Zorya projected a veneer of aloofness, turning her attention back to the ongoing reconstruction, her senses remained attuned to Kal. From the corner of her eye, she observed a droid, its hydraulic arms groaning under the weight of a colossal chunk of debris. With a mechanical grating sound, it hoisted the debris, clearing the way for new foundations.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

A resurrection project. The word struck him as interesting and odd, and out of that single word a half-dozen potential connections sprung. So she - or they - were Sith? They were trying to restart the academy? Or they were attempting an actual resurrection? Raising the literal dead? But if they were Sith surely they wouldn't simply admit it?

And if she was Sith, he wondered if the two shared some telepathic link. He had no idea what species the Imp was, but that meant it was all the more prudent not to underestimate him.

Physical labor? he asked in a tone that didn't sound overly enthusiastic.

I'm not saying "no," but, uh, what would I be helping with exactly? Breathing life into old stone is very poetic, but not very descriptive, he said with a smirk. The truth, though, was that he was enjoying their little game of words. But even as he spoke it, he felt a tingling at the back of his mind. Something felt off, and he didn't know if it was his new acquaintances or something else. It... was something elsewhere. More elusive, but close by.

Still, something about the woman gave him the willies, too. Perhaps it was her total silence or maybe it was just something in her posture. That predator's stance that was astoundingly difficult to keep suppressed once it was present.

Who owns this property these days? he asked, making his way up toward the entrance with what could probably be guessed was the intention to go inside and take a look around.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya released a barely perceptible sigh, the game of words was proving more tedious than she had initially expected. O'bog, however, reveled in the banter, his cackles echoing eerily around the ruins. Allowing the mischievous sprite his indulgence, Zorya mentally restrained him from further fabrications. Kal was intriguing, a potential asset, and integrity was the foundation of a valuable alliance.

His eyes alight with glee, O'bog pitched in, "Aye, Kal! Building a school, we are. For those souls adrift, seeking a haven, a place to learn and grow." A whimsical truth stretching the boundaries of credibility, but O'bog reveled in it nonetheless.

Upon the question of proprietorship, the imp paused, pretending to ponder the matter. "Them locals," he said, "got their superstitions about this place. Paid 'em a few coins, nothing that'd break the bank, and they're happy to leave us be," he added referring to the bribes Zorya had had to pay to keep the project under wraps.

As Kal moved towards the entrance, Zorya didn't hinder his steps. Her silent approval hung in the air like an unvoiced pact. Should he prove a nuisance, the ancient halls of the academy would become his eternal resting place, the nascent walls his tombstone.

The entrance yawned like a monolithic beast, a gaping maw ready to swallow them whole. Its once grand façade now stood as a monument to time's relentless march, the intricate carvings eroded into obscurity. The imposing doors, forged from a forgotten alloy, stood ajar, whispering of bygone days.

O'bog fluttered around Kal, putting on a spectacle of being a grand tour guide. "Behold, lad! The entrance to our humble project. Look at the craftsmanship, eh? Will be a beaut once it's restored, don't ya think?" His words danced around the true nature of the academy, yet never once dared to utter the forbidden word: Sith.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Building a school they said. He wondered just what it was that they were planning to teach in this school.

Ah yes, superstitions, he repeated the word with a knowing smile. He liked the imp, and was rather enjoying their little game.

Old, dark wraiths that struck from the shadows, right? he said, being quite familiar with what this place actually was and what the stories they might have about it would have said.

The woman didn't move to stop him, so that was good enough for him, and he momentarily wondered just how it would unfold should they choose to fight. Of course, that would be a waste. The Sith needed most any bodies they could get - assuming they weren't daft - and so far, those odd duo didn't seem to be fools.

He stepped inside and looked over the yawning entrance. It was still dirty in many places, but the marching in and out had cleared enough of the dust on the floor away that he could almost imagine it rebuilt again.

His eyes only ever left the duo for moments at a time, but they did flick over to the wall. Carved into it were old words in a forbidden language that he, of course, recognized. He was far from fluent or even passable in ancient Sith, but he recognized elements of the Code that had been carved into stone.

Beautiful indeed, he agreed, though the phrase held a hint of awe and admiration in it. He wished he could have seen it. The ancient days of the Sith when they were first founded. Or even the more recent days when the Sith Empire had been strong. Sure, he had been an acolyte at the time, but that wasn't involvement like he could have now. But now, they were on the run with their tail between their legs.

It's a long way to fall from its glory days, he said before turning his attention back into the building.

And what kind of work is it that you need assistance with? Or is it just moving boxes in? he asked.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

As Kal's gaze roved the ancient Sith scriptures etched into the crumbling walls, a flicker of comprehension ignited within the depths of his eyes. Zorya registered this minutia with a kindled curiosity, her own understanding of the inscriptions being somewhat rudimentary.

O'bog, ever the eloquent orator, chimed in when Kal lamented the state of the once splendid academy, "The glory of yore can be restored, mate. Takes a bit o' elbow grease, that's all! And wouldn't a young lad like ye be just the ticket to help? Yer skills won't be wasted on mundane tasks, like toting boxes, I assure ye."

The imp then proceeded to regale Kal with an inventory of duties that needed seeing to. "First, we got vermin to deal with." Zorya's mind meandered to her initial encounter with the Vixian Mauler upon arrival - a formidable behemoth of a predator with arms of formidable strength, a pair of sturdy legs supporting its massive bulk, and two luminous tendrils adorning its head like eerie, undulating antennae.

"Next, there's the issue of the greenery," O'bog continued. As he spoke, Zorya's thoughts took an arboreal turn. She recalled the relentless struggle with the Death's Embrace, a sinister plant species that had entwined itself throughout the academy's periphery. An aggressive flora, its tentacles, aglow with bioluminescent ridges, reached out threateningly in the permanent night of Umbara, overshadowing the prickly Zabrak Spines and ensnaring any who dared trespass.

"And let's not forget about some electrical work that needs doing." Zorya's recollection was jolted by the memory of employing Force lightning as an improvised power source to jump-start or power some of the academy's ancient and dormant systems. A shiver of electricity traveled down her spine, the echo of exertion resonating within her.

"Of course, what ye'll be doing depends on your skills, mate. Which ye haven't enlightened us about yet," O'bog concluded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation and intrigue.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Kaldar could practically feel the words between the words as the imp spoke about what needed doing. Although he didn't know what "electrical issues" entailed, he could guess what "animals and plants" were reference to. Umbara was not a kind or inviting world, and a great deal of what lived here could and would kill people at a moment's notice.

You're in luck. I fix things. Problems, that is, he said. There was many ways to fix a problem, and while pulling out his lightsaber and hacking away at it was one solution - that often worked - Kal liked to use that as a last resort. Any old thug could swing around a lightsaber, but that wasn't how the Sith were going to return to power. He was a firm believer in that.

Let's talk about your fauna problem, he said. "Vermin" I think you called it. How big of vermin are we talking about? he asked. His mind was already turning to whether there was a way to repurpose whatever it was a "guard animals" here rather than just killing it or driving it out.

Not sure I'll be much help with an electrical problem, he added.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

An impish grin stretched across O'bog's countenance as Kaldar accepted the challenge. Zorya, ever silent, nodded subtly in approval from the shadows, intrigue kindling in her enigmatic gaze. The vagueness of Kal's capabilities made her all the more curious - his craft lay in the sly parlance of half-statements, a skill that even the loquacious Ximpi could admire.

"Problems, ye say?" O'bog barked with laughter, his wings fluttering in amusement. "Oh, I'm likin' ye more already. I'll be having so many puzzles for ye, ye'll scarce find time to be bored!"

Hopping onto a fallen column, O'bog spread his arms in an extravagant display, his voice echoing through the ancient ruins. "Now, as fer our pesky critters," he started, his eyes dancing mischievously. "We've had a spot o' trouble with isopods," he explained, Zorya's mind flitting to the image of Gladiopods, their spike-clad legs and multi-tentacled faces a gruesome spectacle in the perpetual gloom of Umbara. "Then there's the scaly devils," he continued, Zorya visualizing the sharp-toothed Skeeris, their elongated, reptilian forms an eerie sight among the shadowed undergrowth. "And let's not forget the nasty roddens," O'bog added, a reminiscent shudder ruffling his diminutive frame as he thought of the Vixian Maulers.

"How's that tickle yer fancy, Kal?" he asked, an impish twinkle in his eyes. "Ye’ll be gettin’ a tidy sum for yer trouble, o' course." Zorya’s gaze hardened, suspicion flickering within her dark eyes. O'bog’s playful banter and innocent request, she knew, belied the deadly trials that awaited Kaldar.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

It sounded like quite the lineup that awaited Kaldar, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the best option was one in which he turned his enemies against themselves.

I'll take a look. Of course, I can't make any promises until I see what exactly it is that I'm up against, he said. He preferred to underpromise and overdeliver or else simply make his enemies - and allies - underestimate him altogether.

Inside or outside? he asked. Tried using any of your mystic powers on them yet? he asked, intentionally phrasing the question in quite such a way to give the impression he was unfamiliar with the proper terminology surrounding the Force.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Mystic powers, is it?" O'bog chuckled, his elfin figure glowing in the darkness of the ruined academy, a little star against a backdrop of decay. The casualness of Kaldar's questions was a delightful strategy, a dash of ignorance sprinkled atop a foundation of cautious curiosity. In contrast, Zorya remained silent, the furrowed lines on her face the only hint of her astute analysis.

"Inside, outside, these beasties care not where they make their bed, or dinner," O'bog trilled, performing a mock shiver as he flitted around Zorya's stoic figure. His voice dropped to a whisper as he continued, "As fer the mystic business, well, they've been charmed and scared and shocked and what not, but they keep comin' back, the stubborn gits."

Zorya’s dark eyes followed Kaldar's movements, the faintest flicker of appreciation for his prudence registering on her face. His careful detachment, the delicate balance of curiosity and caution, was a dance she was familiar with. His query hinted at more than mere unfamiliarity, he was testing them, testing her, seeking to understand the depth of their command over the Force.

“Ye seem a resourceful sort,” O'bog said, perching back on Zorya’s shoulder. “We can be usin’ a mind like yers. A heady mix of brawn and brain ye are, Kal. Now, how’s about ye and I take a wee tour of our humble abode?” With that, the Ximpi led the way into the heart of the academy, a grand tour through the ruins awaited, the shadowy threats lingering just beyond the pools of ghostly light.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Kaldar let out a low hum of thought as the imp said that they had tried all manner of thing. And there was good enough confirmation that they were Sith or Dark Jedi or something comparable. Probably Sith, right?

Stubborn indeed, he said thoughtfully. It was quite a predicament, and he didn't know what resources they had at their disposal.

I'd love to, he said, wandering back into the facility. It was already starting to look nicer in here, and he could almost envision in his mind the assassins being trained here. He wondered if they would be of the stealth and infiltration type or the more politically savvy. Or likely both.

So if I may ask. Your companion. Does she not speak or she can't speak? he asked. It was a prying question, but he couldn't miss the way that she kept looking at him. The way she watched his every move, and the way he was sure she would pounce on him at a moment's notice if necessary. They were predator's eyes.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

"Heard of the Yacombe, have ya?" O'bog rasped, his wingbeats quickening with enthusiasm, the imp's irrepressible energy dispersing a faint cloud of settled dust into the dim, echoing expanse. As if sensing Kal's curiosity even before his acknowledgement, the Ximpi launched into an explanation, "Zorya is the practicer of an ancient tradition, ya see."

"Symbiosis, is the key," O'bog continued, his nimble flight taking him around the room, drawing attention to the grim, forlorn training dummies. "Yacombe form bonds with proxies, like me."

The goblin-pixie giggled. "The pact, though, demands a wee bit of sacrifice. A sense, to be precise. Sight, touch, hearing, smell, or," he paused, fluttering towards Kal, "like our Zorya here, speech."

As O'bog concluded his narration, Zorya guided them deeper into the facility. The first room they stepped into was a sprawling, resonant expanse, once the sacred battlegrounds for aspiring Sith assassins. The high-reaching obsidian walls culminated in a ceiling shrouded by the unforgiving shadows above. As Zorya and O'bog ventured further, their distinct movements – her measured stride and the imp's skittering flight – sent eerie echoes around the space.

A thick layer of age-old dust blanketed the room's ancient equipment, silent relics of an era focused on shaping deadly warriors. Subtle indentations scarred the icy, stone floor, silent reminders of past rigorous practice sessions. A quiet sense of expectant stillness pervaded the room, as if poised to once more reverberate with the clash of combat.

To one side, a line of training droids stood in solemn silence, their worn and rusted forms bearing witness to countless duels. In the hushed tranquility, one could almost hear faint traces of Sith lessons in stealth and quiet assassination.

At the room's extremity, a towering holographic projector rested in its long-deactivated state, its imposing silhouette casting a grim shadow. A poignant relic of a bygone era when Sith Masters guided assassins in the fine art of the dark side.

The room was a spectral remnant of the past, a dormant leviathan from an epoch when the Sith held sway over the galaxy. To enter was to feel the resonance of olden power, of unyielding ambition, and of unrelenting resolve – a visceral embodiment of the Sith's former glory.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Kaldar had never heard of the Yacombe before, but he committed the name to memory, deciding he needed to investigate it for himself.

Can't say that I have, he said honestly. His eyes flicked over to the woman, this "practitioner of ancient traditions" and found himself quite intrigued.

Symbiosis and proxies? Did they share one mind now? Were they truly connected? Maybe that was the telepathic connection he had considered earlier. He suddenly had more questions than answers, but he also had a place to begin his digging as well.

Huh, fascinating, he said, glancing at the woman again as she led them deeper into the facility. It was an odd space, and even now that it was empty and lacked any of the dark presence, Kaldar couldn't help but think it still held a menace in it. Maybe it was the architecture or the lingering presence.

It's beautiful, he said almost absentmindedly, heading over to look at some of the combat droids. They were ancient and a bit archaic, but that could be replaced.

You'll have to retrain new droids. Training from the ground up is more useful than just preset programming, he said.

So how'd you settle on this place? A fan of sneaking around? he asked.

@Aberforth

 

[Zorya]

Zorya had been observing the banter between O'bog and Kaldar with an inscrutable gaze. Kaldar's knowledge of droid programming, coupled with his surprising interest for the ur-Kittât carving at the entrance, his casual stumble upon the Sith ruins, struck an inharmonious chord in her mind. O'bog, ever loquacious, had been delighted with the audience. But Zorya knew better; it was time to discern the man's true mettle.

As Kaldar's attention was caught up in O'bog's boisterous theatrics, Zorya acted. The Force pulsed around her, its resonant energy coiling about her like a serpentine guardian. With a swift motion, she drew upon the concentrated energy and ignited her red lightsaber. A vibrant, deadly glow cut through the ancient room's spectral gloom, casting long, ominous shadows.

Her boots scuffed the gritty floor as she propelled herself forward, a crimson comet arcing towards Kaldar. The sudden illumination, the ignited energy blade, split the shadows, shocking the room into a startled silence. The low hum of the lightsaber's energy field filled the air, a menacing buzz that vibrated against the cold obsidian walls.

O'bog, caught off guard, careened upwards in a flurry of surprise, his drunk sailor's mirth abruptly silenced. But Zorya moved with a precision that had been honed by countless years of training and battles. Her leap was as much an art form as it was a tactic, a balletic arc in the stale air, her dark silhouette backlit by the sinister glow of her weapon.

Her gaze never left Kaldar's form, eyes like two obsidian shards, studying his reaction, gauging his preparedness.

@Phoenix

 

[Kaldar]

Zorya's lightsaber burst to life and she fell on him quickly, but Kaldar had been wary of her. He knew what she wanted, and rather than draw it out in an attempt to hide it, his own saber burst to life in his hand, crossing with hers as the sabers magnetically bound together.

He could tell by her movements that she was a fighter. It was all grace and fluidity, which perhaps explained why she had no need of her voice. And why she was opening a school for assassins.

Rage flowed through him as he opened himself up to the Dark Side, a glint of hatred flickering in his eye.

That's not so nice, he growled as he pushed their sabers apart and shoved her backwards. His mind ran through a thousand calculations in a second. He had no interest in talking this out, and he wondered in the back of his mind if the imp knew about this. He now regretted that he knew so little of her mystical art, but he would simply have to make do.

Rather than assaulting her directly, he thrust his left hand up and gripped the imp in the Force, flinging him at the wall with great force. If they came as a pair, then both of them were responsible, and he had no qualms about getting to her through him.

@Aberforth