Cursed With Knowledge

[Darth Parox]

Korriban, 1325 local time​

The landscape on this side of Korriban—like the landscape in most other parts of Korriban—was impossible to traverse via speeder or swoop. The dunes of sand and occasionally strong winds ensured that any vehicle would find most of its systems jammed by sand soon enough, and if it didn't, it would succumb to lack of fuel, which was almost impossible to find anywhere besides the largest cities. Parox had opted instead for a Cianapese steed—a sort of horse with more limbs than normal and horns on its head. The two he'd chosen—one for him and one for his companion—had light red fur, which blended in well with the environment.

He was a fearsome sight on the horse, armored up though lacking a helmet. His lightsaber was in full sight on his belt, as well as another that he had only recently built, hidden out of sight. Also hidden were his grenades and blasters; Purebloods did not believe in such weapons, and strolling into their village with them strapped to himself would be enough to start a witch hunt.

It neighed as its hooves pounded the sand, but they were born on Korriban and used to it. Parox held the reins absent-mindedly, his eyes set on the horizon ahead. A large, cream and red colored mountain loomed in front of them, with a single passage carved into it, two statues resembling the heads of snakes also built into the "gate". Within lay a village, protected by the mountain and built with classic Pureblood architecture. This part of the land had remained untouched by the Sith Empire—the locals knew about them, but did not care much for the faction. Their only allegiance was to themselves.

They were here to capture the shaman and interrogate him. It was a bit harsh, but Parox knew Purebloods were harsh creatures—the man would live. If he cooperated, of course.

The skies were split by a screeching roar, and Parox looked up behind him as Elaerys flew up toward the village. Transporting the dragon from planet to planet had been...an interesting task, but he'd managed, and it had paid off. Purebloods seemed to fear dragons more than anything, and Parox couldn't blame them. She should prove to be a good incentive for the shaman to cooperate.

 

[Aadya Drast]

____________

When Parox had asked Aadya to accompany him into the dune wastes of Korriban she'd assumed they'd be traveling via some sort of speeder or ship of some kind. Little did she expect to be actually out in the elements, getting whipped in the face constantly as the wind swirled and blasted her with sand and whatever else it could grab and throw. The horse she was riding was kind of cool she supposed, but Aadya still felt that Parox had intentionally mislead her so that she would agree to accompany him. A smart move if that was the case, there'd have been no way in hell she'd have agreed to come otherwise.

As they passed through the impressive stone gates and into the village proper, the screeching cry of Elaerys overhead made Aadya smile. The young Drast was one of two people in the entire galaxy that Elaerys allowed in her presence without suspicion, even allowing Aadya to pet and dote upon her like she was a common house pet. Aware of how frightful that purebloods were of dragons, Aadya was glad to have her along.

Aadya guided her steed through the village, making note of the sideways and harsh glances she was receiving from the locals. Not letting it intimidate her, Aadya sat up straight and peered down her nose at them, making it clear that not only did she consider herself superior to them, she was not afraid to show it. Aadya's lightsaber hung loosely from her belt, swaying back and forth with each trotting step of her horse. It was an innate and shiny thing and she was sure that the purebloods had noticed that, too.

"Do you plan to be civil or should I assume we'll be using more.. aggressive negotiation?" She asked Milo, idly glancing over at him as they headed towards the shaman's hutt. It was easy enough to spot up in the distance, the building more ornately decorated and inlaid with gold and various idols and fetishes. A stark contrast to the otherwise blandness of the village.

The stark differences that she got to see in Milo were always interesting to Aadya. The man she knew was shy and kind, a far cry from the ruthless, aggressive and sometimes downright stoically murderous Parox that many others in the Empire knew. She wondered sometimes if there would come a day when Milo would have to make a choice between his two selves, Aadya unsure of which would win out. She'd like to think that her presence in his life could help sway him one way over the other, but she knew the allure of the darkside and the power that it brought was often too much to ignore.

For now, though, those thoughts were far away from where her head needed to be at the moment. She metaphorically shook them out, replacing them with the task at hand. The intrusive thoughts would have to wait for now, taking up space in Aadya's nightmares like so many other things that lived in the dark recesses in the back of her mind.

"I have your back either way," she said honestly. They were just outside the hutt now, and Aadya would let Milo take the lead.

 

[Darth Parox]

"That's our friend's choice," he replied, intending to give the shaman a choice before they forcefully apprehend him. "Be ready to fight though—Purebloods aren't very welcoming." Especially since the two were walking in like they owned the place. It was disrespectful to the villagers, but Parox didn't really care; they were Sith of the Empire, here on a planet that was theirs. Acting like the Purebloods had the right to resist occupation—which they have had centuries to do—was disrespectful to Andraste's legacy. Korriban had been theirs up until now, and that wouldn't change for a long time to come.

The Purebloods looked at them even weirder when they heard the two speaking basic, a language they had never had any contact with. It was a good thing Parox spoke Sith, otherwise the negotiations would have ground to a screeching halt before they began. The crowd that had gathered in front of the shaman's house slowly parted as they approached, making way for their horses. He got off the steed and didn't even bother tying it to anything—it was responsive through commands via the Force, so it would sit there until he told it to move. "And I have yours," he replied to Aadya. There was no one else that could make his chest feel warm just by saying they had his back.

Parox was about to enter the hutt when the villagers started screaming. The crowd immediately broke up and they scattered in different directions, aiming to take cover as the massive dragon covered their sky. Ela slowly lowered herself to the ground, uncaring of the Purebloods running in fear, then plopped herself down like a cat, sending red sand bursting from underneath her, covering anyone in the vicinity in it. She huffed loudly, then put her chin down, crimson eyes set on Parox and Aadya.

"Me burn?" she asked telepathically. Her excitement was somehow audible in his thoughts.

"No Ela, no burn yet." She huffed again and bared her teeth, but Parox knew she was just being bratty. She had never hurt him and would never hurt him. The villagers, however, didn't know that, and if her presence wasn't scary enough, that display was. The streets cleared completely—even the village guards had hidden. With a mental shrug, Parox stepped into the hut, Aadya behind him.

"«What brings you to my humble abode, travelers?»" a voice called out in Ancient Sith from a room deep within the hut. The main chamber was cozy, with various furs draped over a hand-made couch and a fireplace on the far wall, spewing green flames. The walls were decorated with various trophies, from animal bones to crude paintings, and there was a counter that he supposed served as the kitchen, which was covered in a dark green dust, which overflowed from a wooden bowl. This was the shaman's home alright.

"«Darth Parox of the Sith Empire,»" he replied in Sith. «You can either come with us by good will or by force.»"

@Logan

 

[Aadya Drast]

____________

Aadya didn't much like the inside the hutt as the entered. There was a strange green dust everywhere, the paintings crude and strange, the fetishes and idols ugly or downright revolting. The Shaman's voice called out from deeper within the hutt, his voice raspy and abrasive like sandpaper. He was speaking in Ancient Sith, a language Aadya was familiar with but definitely not fluent in.

Based on Parox' answer Aadya was able to parse the question that had been asked. At least the shaman didn't seem hostile right off the bat, which was honestly somewhat surprising. There were very few reasons why two Sith would venture out into the wastes to find you, and pretty much none of those reasons were positive.

"Straight to the point, I see." She spoke to Milo telepathically, not wanting the shaman to be privy to their side of the conversation despite the fact it was incredibly unlikely he could understand basic.

The shaman seemed to chuckle at Milo's ultimatum, starting off sort of quietly but quickly growing in volume like rolling thunder. «Your threats do not scare me, Darth. Neither does your dragon.»

Aadya couldn't quite understand the whole of what the shaman had just said, but the tone was unmistakable: prideful, arrogant, self assured. Reaching down to her belt, Aadya subtly grabbed her lightsaber and ignited its blade. Her eyes were boring into the shaman now, ready to chop off a hand or an arm to get him to comply with Milo's wishes.

They would not be taking no for an answer today.

 

[Darth Parox]

He gave Aadya a sideways glance and a smirk in response, then looked back to the shaman, who had finally emerged from around the corner. He was astonishingly skinny for a Pureblood, his neck covered in necklaces that looked much heavier than what the man would be able to carry. He was hunched over and holding the bleached skull of some unknown creature—clearly not expecting visitors.

"«Perhaps they should,»" he replied, lightsaber hissing to life. "«I take it you do not answer to the Sith Empire?»" It was not uncommon for small villages to refuse to be lead by the Empire, though Parox tried to fix that whenever he had the chance—and not through diplomatic means.

"«Your Empire can go to hell!»" the shaman shouted in response, suddenly sending forth a burst of telekinetic energy toward the two Sith, large enough to hit both of them and hard enough to send them flying back. For Parox, it was like the gentlest breeze of a spring day. Aadya may have more trouble standing her ground, but it would not be out of her range of abilities.

"The hard way, then," Parox remarked. "Take him alive but feel free to leave him with something to remind him we were here." He reached out one arm and wrapped the Force around the shaman's throat, gripping it and then yanking so he came toward the Lord, feet dragging across the ground. Instead, the shaman resisted, building a shield around his neck to keep himself from being grabbed. What he lacked for in physical strength, he made up for with telekinetic ability, but he was no match for both Parox and Aadya.

@Logan

 

[Aadya Drast]

____________

The time for words was over, it seemed. The telekinetic blast hit her hard, sending Aadya skidding backwards on her feet. She was able to keep upright, though the power of their quarry did put her a little on edge. Aadya had never really fought an advanced practitioner of the darkside before and even the experience she did have seemed like it may be inadequate against the unknown abilities of a Pureblood shaman.

Spottinga bit of thick, heavy rope on one of the shaman's tables, Aadya quickly reached out with the force to grab it. Manipulating the rope, Aadya had it wrap itself around the shaman's throat and begin to strangle him. Inside the hutt Aadya need only focus on the shaman, meaning she could put her full power into what she was doing.

The shaman would need to make a choice. He could either focus on Aadya to get the rope away from his throat, or struggle for breaths and attempt to keep Milo at bay. Either way, the clock was ticking.

 

[Darth Parox]

Though he'd repelled Parox's choke, the shaman was unable to fight back against the rope around his neck. It wrapped around his throat, constricting it, his windpipe slowly giving way. He chucked the skull at Aadya without warning, hard enough to bruise and break her concentration but not hard enough to do much more. It was his last resort, it seemed, and if it didn't work, the shaman was left defenseless.

Parox wrapped the Force around him again, lifting the Pureblood up in the air as he thrashed his legs and clawed at his throat. He crushed the shaman's neck once and suddenly, and it seemed he'd taken him by surprise. The Pureblood didn't oppose, circulation to his head cutting off and unconsciousness setting in. Parox let go, causing the shaman to collapse in a heap on the ground below him. He was still alive, but light headed and fighting for consciousness—and in no condition to fight anymore.

Approaching, the Sith Lord stopped a few meters away so that all he needed to do to be in melee range was lunge forward. "«The easy way?»" he asked again.

@Logan