The Monsters We Hunt

[Marf]

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Pale grey sand stretched for miles across deserted coastline spanning an island on Kesh. The Blue depth muted to a dull navy underneath colorless clouds welcoming a descending shuttle. Coarse engines disrupted the ethereal caress of the ocean's sound and the Mandalorian hunters inside were restless for action. Lead by a Jedi Knight, the group of warriors had been hired by the Malastare police force following a massacre of unfathomable violence.

"Listen up men, your target is unidentified, extremely dangerous and carries no weapon. The specifics of his intentions are unknown."

The massive Mandalorian Alor named Ironfist spoke up before his comrade. Devoid of regard for human well-being, holding no semblance of moral but hypocritical obsession with his so-called honor. The young Jedi Knight named Rokuro stood by idly before monsters who held themselves at a higher moral regard than the name of a faction.

"Never thought I'd see the day where I'd get to kill a real life Sith. Things are finally looking up in the galaxy."

Every day, soldiers trained, factions attacked factions. Labels and borders all conveniently categorized into good and bad. They all shared one thing in common, they killed people. The crimes of their target occurred sparsely, almost random. Dotted across the Outer Rim and neutral territory where no major eyes could see. Absolutely cowardice, meticulously intelligent.

"Your target killed twenty-three people in five minutes, he's vicious."

- - -​

Images blurred like glass smashed by the force of waves over the accumulation time, a past lost to the abyss linked only to a child he did not know. Frustration and denial plagued his focus, only the pictures mattered to Vereshin. It was Leira he wanted, the soul upon everything. Bells roamed from a tiny church poised far atop a hill and lead his feet along the gloomy hued sand. Pointed boots with silver buckles dented the damp sand, barely missing the teasing waves. His simple and elegant black robes stood against the muted land like the ravens feasting cruelly on a deceased seal pup.

"Jedi."

Luminescent blue coursed through the dull mist and shattered any subtle hue in the imagery. The saber slight his peaceful isolation with it's garish, artificial glow. A hand trembled idly beneath long, flowing sleeves in time with his rapid heartbeat. Innards knotted in spasm as the very image of the bright young Jedi triggered the mistake that was Telos. It had been twenty years since Vereshin directly risked his life for the faction who ostracized him. Only in obscurity did he find purpose.

Not a nuance traveled from his motionless form. Posture stood immaculate and weightless underneath billowing, light silk. Red energy pooled across the mist where his presence resonated. Not rage or anger, but a consuming darkness of sick, visceral anxiety and genuine fear. Vereshin spoke gently. Eternal life was all he had, what lay beyond that for monsters of his breed was infinitely more horrifying.

"Leave me alone and I shall not raise a hand against you."
@Cameron Foster

 

[Cheshire]

Rokuro hated to be here, at this moment, stuck with probably the most thickest mandolorian scum that he had ever come across, probably one of the only few groups that hadn't aligned itself with Death Watch, a group fighting with the Sith Brotherhood against the forces of the light, which evidently Rokuro was a part of. He had mostly spent his time with the group meditating, trying to calm himself for what he was being forced to do. He hated doing this, he never wanted to hurt anyone, even a Sith. He had always had been one of the few Jedi in their war like stature that wished for the Sith to harmonise with the Jedi, so he wanted to walk away from the true monsters that stood and laughed in front of him, trying to not let his anger and his rage reach out to the mandolorian hunters.

"Never thought I'd see the day where I'd get to kill a real life Sith. Things are finally looking up in the galaxy."

This infuriated the young padawan, finally breaking him free of his meditation, or failed meditation which is better. "You won't if you act like that." The child growled, which finally caused the group to turn around, looking at the child sitting on the floor.

"What's up with you kid? Not excited to stab a Sith?"

"That attitude is going to get you killed. This is a deadly sith, and in all honesty I would rather you took him alive preferably" Rokuro said harshly, shocking the mandolorian's around him.

The child got up and walked along with the mandolorian's around him, gripping his single blue bladed hilt, however his pike was strapped to his back, in case he needed to use it. He walked along the beach with the group before he felt the fear through the force, like a disease as he walked down the beach, igniting his blade as the red mist surrounded them

"Where are you Sith! We are going to get you eventually. You're drawing out your life!" The mandolorian gloated, as the rest of the group prepared for their fight. However Rokuro quickly shot him a look, a cold hard glare at those stupid people.

Rokuro reached out with the force, reaching out to at least attempt to find the Sith but he was unsuccessful in his attempt. "I wish to speak to you Sith, I mean you no ill will or harm" Rokuro spoke calmly despite some fear shooting through his body as he deactivated his lightsaber, and kneeled on the sand, facing off into the distance as he awaited his reply, looking at the mandolorian's that obviously weren't getting his suggestions.

@Marf

 

[Marf]

Benign waves lulled gently against the grey sand, drawing Vereshin to bend at the knees and dip the ends of black fingers into the water. White ripples soaked the hem of his robes and the pleated chiffon juban billowing beneath. Having only recently regained the ability to walk, Vereshin allowed himself sanctuary to meditate and work towards regaining his powers. Since the success of the Voidsphere ritual, his potency drastically increased. The darkness lay dormant and serene, waiting only to be triggered before arising.

They two Force users stood absolutely antipodal to one other. The young Jedi boy displayed a bright countenance of youth and vigor, yellow hair crowned over tanned skin. A specimen of health preserved and beaming with the goodness of the Light Side. The contrast charmed Vereshin and he let a smile curve into his cheeks, his obsidian teeth bared against blinding white skin. Rising, he cupped his hands beneath the fall of rain, so light it felt like mist. One of them trembled involuntarily, slowly subsided with the gentle persuasion of the Jedi's mind.

Eyes raised with cautious glare, the Jedi claimed to pose no harm but Vereshin retained his paranoia. A heavy sigh escaped his thin, pallid lips, he would gain nothing from harming the boy. Naive and constricted by factional zealotry and Force segregation. Light and Dark, they stood here only people against a cerulean abyss. Speaking once more, Vereshin turned around to walk away.

"Go home."

Mind vacant in trance and blurred by swirling visions, Vereshin turned his gaze in the opposite and failed to notice the barrel of the enormous gun crashing downward. The blaster collided with his skull, sending him to his knees like a ragdoll. Every inch of his being seemed to freeze in time, fear held his body fast like concrete.

"Woah, a real Sith, just like in the holos." Belated breathes drew while a hand reached the back of his bleeding head, Vereshin slowly rose ahead of his assailant. The Mandalorian named Ironfist licked his lips audibly. "I dunno, alor, he doesn't look like any Sith I've heard of. He doesn't even have a lightsaber." His smaller comrade said in response. "Are you deaf, kid? The target we're looking for is unarmed."

"but how is he supposed to fight us without a weapon?"

"Would it kill you to shut your damn mouth?"

Standing upright, Vereshin attempted to hold his stance and collect his focus. The authorities on Malastare traced him, but he was too weak to use any profound Force techniques. They caught him when he was vulnerable. The greater power attained, the more antipodal. Energy must be preserved and rested, all gain is accompanied by weakness. The Dark Side cannot be utilized without sacrifice.

"I hear you're a big time badass, show us what you got!" The distinctive click of a trigger echoed behind him. Hands clutching the fabric of his garment, the dormant Sith turned around to face the gun pointed at his forehead. Mandalorian armour presented in all of it's imposing imagery. "Hey Jedi, if this target is so dangerous we can shoot on sight, right? Ironfist spoke to Rokuro from behind the gaze of his inhuman looking helmet.
@Cameron Foster

 

[Cheshire]

"Go home."

Rokuro was about to respond to the Sith before he heard a thud in response and he heard a Mandoloran talking to his buddy, standing over a body, Rokuro jumped to his feet, not even bothering in picking up his blade as he sprinted towards the pair, fearing the worst as he sprinted towards the robed man. He skidded to a halt, peering at the Sith below them as he struggled to formulate a response to what he was seeing. The man's skin was chalk white, almost like he had never seen the light of day and incredibly thin. He obviously didn't have a proper diet, almost looking vampiric slightly as he stared at what you could barely call a man.

"but how is he supposed to fight us without a weapon?"

"Would it kill you to shut your damn mouth?"

Rokuro turned to them, glaring, clearly pissed off at the way they had even handled the Sith and now they were treating him like he was game for their little hunting game. Mind you, mandolorian's grew up on hunting, learning to fight from when they were young, so Rokuro guessed it was just instinct. However he still didn't approve of their actions.

"I hear you're a big time badass, show us what you got!"

As soon as he heard the blaster click, Rokuro attempted to spring to action, trying to grab his blade however for his attempt, he was held back by another mandolorian behind him, while another one smacked his fully exposed chestas he attempted to jump to the Sith's defence. He cried out slightly as he was hed in position, hands behind his back as he was forced to watch the horrific scene unfold.

"Hey Jedi, if this target is so dangerous we can shoot on sight, right?"

Rokuro struggled, knowing what the hunters would do. "NO DONT HURT HIM!"

@Marf

 

[Marf]

"Don't stand in the way of my prey, I'm just having a little fun here."

Ironfist casually removed his helmet bequeathing a scarred and obscenely masculine visage. Slamming Rokuro backwards by the chest, his intent felt deeply in the pounding heart of his target. To Vereshin's horror, the other man's filthy hand grabbed him by his feathery hair and wrenched his face to the end of the gun. All he could do was coil and concentrate on his energy. His taut skin, it's surface smooth like alabaster paired suitably with his manner. Childlike and silent, an enthereal specter frozen in time.

"Are you a monster or not? Stand and fight Sith!"

The Mando, by absolute contrast, stank. A suit of armour full of old sweat and mechanical grease. Every nuance, texture and odor of his very make-up and archetype aroused seething rage from within the distressed conscience of Vereshin. Ironfist murdered indiscriminately and called it honor, but held the shame and hypocrisy to call him a monster for little more than the name of the faction he came from. A telekinetic Force escaped his presence and knocked the alor backwards, setting the Sith to his feet. Vereshin back away slowly, hands by his side splayed in defensive guard.

"My first Sith kill, what a let down." Ironfist sighed with veritable disappointment. "Go ahead and shoot him."

His comrade, the younger Mandalorian conveyed an expression of visible regret. Embarrassment even, at the thought of this monster upholding his culture in such a way. The definition of a monster resounded in it's fluidity. None of them are defined by factions or alignments and none of them are born. All monsters are made.

"Mister Sith, I'm sorry, but I'm only fulfilling my mission."

Gun raised, the young warrior readied his aim and pulled the trigger with an echoing click. No shots rang out, only the deafening split of bone. The splatter of ripped tissue and spate of blood. Grey mist dyed with gaseous sanguine, exploded with such violence the liquid appeared dispersed. Before he could scream in pain for his severed arm, the young Mandalorian's head burst in a detonation of brain and skull. Ironfist's eyes became the size of moons before the unreal carnage before him. Taking his weapon without thought, he released an unrestrained spray of plasma.

Vereshin rose from coil slowly in meditative focus. Head lowered and arms hanging limply, he took a casual stroll directly into the blastfire. Every shot soaked up fruitlessly in his effortless barrier of energy. The helmet Ironfist remove smashed under monstrous telekinetic force. If this intellectually delayed beast of a mortal wanted to play, Vi would play with him. Striding slowly past Rokuro, the enraged Sith Arcanist brushed him aside with a stroke of his mind. A subtle gesture warning him to back off and let him concentrate. The sway of energy hit the boy and an image of Leira on Vereshin's ship and at his massacre on Malastare entered his mind.
@Cameron Foster

 

[Cheshire]

"Don't stand in the way of my prey, I'm just having a little fun here."

Rokuro fell backwards, falling to his hands and feet at the sheer force of Ironfist, the monster that tried to justify itself as an honourable man. Rokuro could only watch on with a face full of horror at the scene that was unfolding infront of him. He wanted to intervene but he knew that if he intervened against the experienced hunters, the he would most likely be a goner. However seeing the Sith fight back gave him a slight bit of hope for their safety against the monsters.

"Mister Sith, I'm sorry, but I'm only fulfilling my mission."

Rokuro watched with sated breath as he looked at the scene quickly depleting, seeming like the SIth had no chance of survival. However his horror as the horrible split of bone as the arm severed off, seemingly through the force but that wasn't as bad as the head rupturing, exploding like a balloon.

He watched the Sith as he kept the plasma from his body, seeing them catch into his barrier. So when the withering Sith towards him, Rokuro scrambled away from the enraged Sith however the man paid him no attention, however the child was hit with the mental image of Vereshin and Leira, standing at a massacre, and it horrified Rokuro... yet he couldn't help but feel awe at the man's ability. When the Sith had finished off Ironfist, Rokuro would quietly plead for his life.
"Please don't hurt me..."

@Marf

 

[Marf]

The bullets rattled of the barrier of thick, compacted energy with fruitless noise. Head lowered, soft, black hair falling over his forehead, haunting statue frozen painted in shades of thick black and blinding white, Vereshin continued his nonchalant stroll into Ironfist's fire. A huge boulder lay in the path between them, before the Mando's gaze, it exploded in a small nova of dust and stone.

"What the hell are you?!"

Luminscent, lavender energy surged from the fingertips of Vereshin while he seethed in preparation for assualt. His enemy yelled in rage and disbelief while pausing to re-load his weapon, but Vi would not finish him yet, not before he had his fun. Hurling disorganizd surges of gravity in directions aside his target, the Mandalorian soldiers scattered as they tried to avoid the blows. Ironfist leapt to the side out of Vereshin's concentrative range. Monsters were at play now. The hunters had become the hunted.

"Ha! This is actually kinda fun!" Exclaiming his bravado in a misguided bluff, Ironfist readied his weapon for another shot. Before he could fire, the gun smashed in his very grip and fell to pieces."You son of a bitch! That's not fa..."

Sentances cut off by mere seconds, the muscles and bone in the Mando's arm ripped in half as the lower part was torn away like paper, sending him screaming to the ground. Standing directly before the flailing man, Ironfist rose his other hand to assault Vereshin but the weight of his gravitiational grip snapped it's bone beneath the flesh, leaving it limp and contorted.

"Having fun now?"

Vereshin cooed through whistling air with a hand raised with pointed nails intently clawing the air above the doomed Mandalorian. He was crying now, screaming beyond reason or vision, emotional restraint shattered by pain. Taking a moment to observe his victim in his pathetic, Vereshin tightened his telekinetic grip around Ironfist. Slowly compating the matter of his being, his body and his armour crushed into spurting, indiscernible mess of pulp, tissue and fluid. The flailing shortly ceased to make way for the gentle caress of the sea air.

"No." Vereshin said curtly towards the surviving Jedi boy. "You had the curtesy to not a lay a hand on me, I extend it."
@Cameron Foster