SithLore

***Mustafar System, Atravis Sector, Grid Coordinates L-19***
***Berken’s Flow, Northern Hemisphere***

Though its armored plating was closer to a dark onyx, the ventral hull of the Mudhorn cleaved through ashen clouds like a silver star as it began its landing sequence. Sa’ato had rapped fingers on the main flight console for the past two hours, and it was only after the ship had touched down that his nervous energy transferred from his hands to his feet. Dreams of shadow and flame had haunted the Neti ever since his faithful acquisition of that most inscrutable of Sith artifacts. Now armed with a basic knowledge of the Force, it was time to get some answers.

However, before the academic could enact his grand plan for the molten wasteland that sprawled before him, certain guarantees were needed. One of those, quite simply, was the need for protection. An overwhelming fear of fire stalked the professor ever since the accident of many decades passed. If he was going to learn this planet’s secrets, he needed to survive as the locals did. Crass as it seemed, Sa’ato declared his intention to embark on a hunting expedition. He was no armorsmith, but with the right materials, the task could and would be accomplished.

The Neti had spent several weeks compiling research and information regarding the planet’s fauna and geography. Having procured the necessary resources for an extended stay, he finally moved to invite his new overlords and their servants to join in the operation. From what little he’d gathered from a handful of interactions with his new Sith colleagues, Sa’ato judged their appreciation for trophies, and their maligned interest in bioengineering. The creatures that stalked Mustafar were hardened by an intense environment: surely their pelts and parts were worth as much to the fell lords as they were to the professor.

As the loading ramp of the academic’s patrol ship crunched uneasily down onto charred and blackened rock, the Neti was forced to temporarily shield his helmet with a forearm as a molten wind buffeted the exterior hull. Squinting ahead, Sa’ato registered a valley of smoky flatland flanked on either side by sharply-peaked mountains. This particular region was once a mining bonanza, discovered centuries ago by the renowned Jezl Berken. Now however, it was largely abandoned, though the professor had found the occasional report of bandit activity from time to time.

All the same, the Sith presence here would remain inconspicuous for the time being. Out and away from any settlements or outposts, the far-flung cultists could track game freely without fear of interruption. Walking briskly back up the ramp, Sa’ato keyed the terminal for the Mudhorn’s internal cargo crane, which slowly lowered a weather but sturdy landspeeder from the ceiling until it thunked readily down on the floor. “I’ve keyed the shields to activate once the bay is resealed”, the professor called back into the vessel’s dim interior, “We can depart at any time”.

Ever since her revival, Kressara found it harder and harder to honor her old phobias such as space travel, or heights, or tiny little insects that crawl into your ears at night and lay eggs in your eardrums. Well, maybe the bugs still disgusted her. It wasn't that she didn't still feel inclined to fear these things, but that she felt resigned to deserving whatever anxiety they festered within her so much so that she welcomed the experience of terror. Formerly, she might have been brought to a nauseous heap on the lavatory floor of the ship headed for Mustafar.

Instead, it was lights out. All the way across the stars Kressara slept as she often did, though where she slept was a mystery to all on board. She'd found a dark, quiet place to stow away and dream. Nothing particularly sweet, but dreams. It was beginning to get hot though. She felt herself sweating beneath the light armored bodysuit she usually wore...Then her makeshift bed dropped an inch or so on it's fastenings and jostled her awake with a start. Metal groaned and the worn seat in which she'd nestled up for a nap rattled as the internal mechanisms of the ship prepared to spit her out of it! Hangar doors swung open and the speeder lowered into Sa'ato's view, as did the flaxen sith strewn across it's interior.

"Ah! Professor! Just the face I was looking to see! I meant to speak with you regarding your expedition to Mustafar." Kressara addressed him as if she wasn't desperately trying to uncurl her stiff spine and climb into the passenger's side where she belonged. Once righted, she laid an arm over the edge of the speeder and flashed the Neti a movie star smile.

"I've decided to come along as your support! I hope you won't object."

How could he? She was already there, sitting in his speeder with full gear on and a pack resting in the baggage compartment.

The Zabrak rose to her feet from her chair, checking her datapad one last time. A message from Luce said "bring me a souvenier, Chief!" While the dour attitude of Sith Lords was tiresome, that Rattataki's overly cheery demeanor could grind the nerves too. This time, though, it was kind of endearing.

Switching the datapad off, she zipped it into her rucksack. She had procured some new camo for this expedition; deep red and black, not unlike her skin. She could probably blend in just fine wearing just a red shirt and some shorts, but she had to keep the heat off somehow. She slid the thick jacket over her arms, made of leather with some internal synthmesh lining. It bore no insignia, just the colors that mimicked the cracked, lava-ridden terrain of Mustafar. On her head, covering her short hair and sharp horns, under a pair of protective goggles, was a thick forward-brim cap over an absorbent headwrap that one could soak with water to keep their head and neck cool in the heat. Sitting next to her rucksack and leaned against the wall of the hold, was a Czerka Adventurer slugthrower rifle.

That weapon had history. When Emic was a teenager back on Iridonia-- too young to fight in the wars but too old for impromptu knife fights with her cousins on the family estate-- she took up hunting. She went along with her older cousin, Zeth, on his hunting trips. It was the first time she was ever truly in awe of how precise someone could be with a rifle. That rifle. Zeth was a veteran. A sniper in a few turf wars Emic's family fought on the streets of Malidris with other clans that started over some long-forgotten slight, and kept going on revenge for the casualties. After the wars slowed down due to government crackdown in an attempt to make Iridonia more "modern", Zeth found himself a nice shack in the wilds where he lived with his lover, though they never married.

Emic joined him on his hunting trips often. It was always a great time, until.

Anyway, she grabbed the rifle by the forestock and headed toward the bay, where she caught sight of her host for this trip. That weird tree.

The Zabrak had been hesitant to go at first. She much preferred sentient prey, after all. But when word got to the Dxun camp from the high-level Sith grapevine that the trip would be , Lieutenant Dunwich insisted that Emic take a short leave to join. The lieutenant believed it was somehow important for the Aurek-112 to build ties to the Sith Order as if that wasn't the source of all their problems anyway, and that the Chief herself attending this hunting trip on leave would somehow be the best means to that end. Well, the lieutenant was creative. Maybe she just wanted to have the illusion of being answerable and amenable to the wizards.

The scorching wind blasted through the bay ramp and licked the Zabrak's face with heat. She squinted, turning away to keep it from her eyes. She looked out onto the superheated landscape until she heard a voice, slightly familiar. Look who it was. The one who crashed into the ground on Vorp'aya. That seemingly meek and jumpy Sith she had met only one or two times before. What a joy.

Sa’ato stared blankly at the blonde stowaway for some minutes before he bothered to make a response. “Ah, Miss Thryn”, the professor spoke at last as he carefully took his place at the speeder’s helm, “Considering that this was an open-ended expedition, I have no quarrel with your presence”. And laughably, at this stage of the mission, the Neti truly had neither reason nor means to object to the woman’s tagging along. Quite the contrary. Smirking beneath the helmet of his survival suit, the academic worked to recall all the tall tales he’d heard about the unpredictable addict in passing. At the very least, she could prove to be useful bait for the creatures that awaited the hunting party.

“It seems we were right to avoid speeder bikes”, Sa’ato called back to Emic Lai with a bemused tone, “Otherwise someone might have had a long walk ahead of them”. Whereas Kressara promised an uncertain degree of anarchy and reckless abandon, the last-minute addition of the Iridonian soldier put the Neti somewhat at ease. The retired teacher had hunted small game in the past, but nothing on the scale of the fauna that crawled about on this smoldering world. As the party assembled and settled into the worn hovercraft, the professor could not help but feel grateful that at least one member of their merry band was skilled with firearms. Carefully easing the speeder down onto the molten earth, Sa’ato waited until the Mudhorn's loading ramp closed securely behind them before offering a curt nod and gunning the throttle off toward the mountainous wastes.

***
At first, everything seemed to go according to plan. Apart from the occasional stinging ash cloud, there was nothing to see apart from crumbling stones and the odd docile lava flea. But while the mountain peaks were bathed in the orange glow of magma fields far out of view, canopies of smoke did little to help visibility, save for random bolts of harsh lightning striking off in the distance. It was no wonder then that Sa’ato failed to spot more familiar shapes stirring off to the left of the natural concourse, much less the crude projectile that plopped only a meter from the front of the speeder. In an instant, a powerful explosion caused the speeder to buck up into the air like a sinking vessel of old.

With a cry, the Neti and his companions were flung from their seats and landed roughly onto the heated ground as a barrage of laser fire pierce the air. With a metallic clang, the speeder eventually fell back to earth, but crunched its portside engine against a partially-cleaved boulder which produced a dizzying blast of sparks. That would be problematic- but something the dazed teacher could solve later. For now, he crept toward the idling hover vehicle, and peeked out across the clearing. As a reward, Sa’ato nearly avoided a bolt of plasma into his shoulder. Growling and crawling about on his knees, he made for the front of his transportation in an effort to ID his would-be assassin.

Furtively peering out past the beveled hood of the speeder, the professor finally managed to gain a visual on six locals toting what appeared to be antique blasters. Their elongated faces and spindly torsos were a dead giveaway for that of the Northern Mustafarians. Likewise, their battered appearance and scrap-metal suits spoke to the livelihood of simple bandits. And at this time, they were in the professor’s way. Looking back at his displaced comrades, Sa’ato indicated the number of hostels on his sinuous digits, and cocked his head in their general direction.

Having done so, the Neti then removed his concussion rifle from off his shoulder, and turned its intensity up to the maximum setting. Snapping the barrel back over the top of the speeder, the professor wasted no time with a precise shot, and sent a blazing azure beam rocketing at a smaller outcropping of rock between two of the thieves. In a violent puff of dust and light, the larger stone exploded and caused the brigands to cry out in surprise. That, Sa’ato hoped, would be enough of a distraction for his allies to take their positions and begin a proper counterattack. That did, after all, have much larger foes to fry.

A sunbright smile lit up the glit-biter siths face at Sa'ato's lack of objections. Kressara knew the sith, but she didn't know the professor very well at all. For all she knew he may have disliked the thought of her joining, even if it was open ended. His response flushed her cheeks with a confidence that this was no longer a possibility, turning that highbeam grin on Emic when the Iridonian made herself known. For a moment there was a blankness in those cheery hazels, but a recognition grew brighter in them as the platinum blonde took in those distinctive features.

"Oh, hey! It's you! What a pleasant surprise! Emily Lah right?...no...Emerson Lock?...wait...wait I got this." Kressara struggled to recall the name Tormentous, or rather Jacobi at the time, had used when addressing her so long ago. The light blinked on and her smirk went crooked. "Emic Lai! There it goes. It's good to have you here!"

Kressara stretched her back over the front seat to move her bag out of the way for their final passenger, then scooted over more to allow room for Sa'ato in the driver's seat.

"This is exciting!" The sith blackbird chirped.


~~~


They had settled into a comfortable silence as the speeder cut through the thick hot air, causing the young woman's eyelids to droop while staring lazily over the distant lava spills. Stifling winds blew her lengthy strands behind her, perhaps a little too far behind. Poor Emic was probably catching white gold lashings before Kressara thought to reign in her overgrowth with a strip of black fabric, tugging the mess of snowy tufts into a wind-beaten bun.

"Sorry if that was annoying you!" She laughed into the ashy gusts.

Kressara was just turning to reach for something in her bag, grasping the strap when the hair on the back of her neck stood pin straight. Eyes cut sideways to see plasma scorching towards them! Her shrill growl warned, "LOOK OU-" but the lurch of the speeder flung her out of the seat before cut words could fully escape her mouth. Briefly she freefell before the world leapt up to punch her in the spine. Kress was thrown violently out of a moving vehicle for the second time in front of their soldier companion, colliding hard against the smoky rock and rolling uncontrollably before a wall of crumbling stone brought her to a slamming hault.

"FRACK!" She screamed almost as loudly as her neck popped and slid down against the boulder. Everything was spinning in a glittering blur and when at last the hellscape stood still again, a perturbed scowl pulled down on her now bloody lip. "I'm getting REALLY tired of that happening!!!"

Her gaze fell to the bag still held firmly by her startled deathgrip. Luckily for her she'd managed to maintain a hold on it. Good. She was going to need everything in that pack to fix the growing throb in her vertebrae, but first...someone was going to die for that.

"Everyone okay?!" She called out when a second round of blaster fire spat against the nearby earth. Kressara pushed past the ache and darted for cover some twenty feet away from the speeder and Sa'ato. Her hand patted against her hips to check her weapons, thankful that her vibroblades seemed intact. She whipped one of them out and ignited the sword, then peaked from behind the rock to see bandits looking mighty proud of themselves. Pity for them, they didn't realize who's speeder they dinged up.

"Oh-ho-ho...you guys are going to GET IT! They better have good healthcare on Mustafar you sodding dolts! When I get over there, I'm going to carve you up like fine art!!!" Her threats bounced off the rocky environment, but then so did Sa'ato's retaliation shot. Bits of stone flew up into their faces and knocked the bandit gang off guard! Now was the time to get in close. Kressara launched herself into a low profile sprint through a puff of traveling ashes, following the sooty cloud before leaping out on top of the reeling thieves position with their surprised screams to herald her swift arrival. She slung a super heated blade against the first body she could reach and cooked the exposed flesh between that crudely constructed armor. One dropped, another aimed their rifle at her, but at such close range it was easy for the blur in black to swipe upwards with her blade on the gun, knocking it's shot off course and into the chest of another bandit.

"WHOOPSY!" Kressara mocked them and kicked ash up against the face of the gunman who clashed weapons with her.

Rifle resting on the ground, the Zabrak waited patiently for the starry-eyed Sith to get her name right. How tempting it was to act like even when she got it right like it was nowhere close. Emic could insist she had no clue who this "Emic Lai" was, but this one was such an easy target when she acted like a kid who ate too much candy. It would be like a rancor hunting a sea-mouse. Not worth the effort. Instead she just gave a polite smile back. "Hey, goldie," the blood-red woman replied, calling her by whatever feature of hers jumped out at Emic first. It was the hair, obviously.

The Chief waited for the professor to start pulling the speeder out of the bay before jumping one of the doors and sliding into the backseat with her cousin's rifle. She pulled her goggles down and her mask up, and attempted to breathe despite the heat of the air. She remarked out loud, but to herself. "Hm, Emerson Lock has a good ring to it."

---

As the speeder got up to speed across the mountain range, it was soon apparent that there was no safe spot in this back seat from the fury of the Sith's hair. Her head was entirely covered, so it didn't hurt, but had she not been wearing her face covering, she would have been flayed by the locks. She tried switching to the other side, sinking down in the seat, putting her feet on the seat and sitting on the rear of the speeder, everything. There was no escape. Her frustrations grew until her hand was hovering over her knife, ready to give this Sith a surprise haircut. Who needs that much hair anyway? However, Emic's "more trouble than its worth" alarms were ringing, so she resisted her most tempting impulse of the day so far.

When the woman realized that her hair was out of control and fixed it, Emic could only leer in frustration under her mask.

Finally free of the most annoying thing to happen this month so far, with the exception of having to outrun artillery shells on some backwater two weeks ago, Emic took a deep breath and calmly-- oh, frakk it all.

A blob of red and black rocketing through the air, then tumbling, and skidding to a stop approximately ten meters from their speeder and less than two away from a hole in the ground with lava bubbling menacingly at the bottom. The Zabrak had in fact, almost stopped completely when she saw the hole and instinctively kicked her feet to slow her approach. She almost let out a breath when she that Czerka Adventurer sailing toward her, and skipping off the ground and toward that hole.

She screamed out loud as the rifle began to tip over the crest of the hole. She hastily flipped herself over and darted for her weapon, only barely getting a hold of it before it plummeted and was lost forever. The heat nearly cooked her through the protective clothing, but she was able to yank the slugthrower out of the danger zone and flop onto her back to catch her breath.

Unfortunately, that was a luxury unavailable. A bolt slammed into the ground right next to her shoulder and the soldier snapped back into it. She ran, serpentine, to a rock outcropping that would provide cover from their assailants. She grabbed the bolt on the rifle and pumped it back, chambering a slug. She had nearly forgotten how pleasant a feeling that was, something blasters don't provide. She relished the powerful sound of the receiver processing the round. Now, she got to make good on the promise she made that rifle. Alexis, you will kill again.

As she lined up a target in the scope, she became serene. Like all was right in the galaxy. The crosshair settled over the neck of one of the bandits, and her finger brushed the trigger. Kind of a shame to waste these expensive big-game slugs on some bandits, but you use what you have. The squeeze was natural, no anticipation, just the pleasant feeling of the rifle kicking and a smashball-sized hole perforating her target. Without a second's hesitation, she chambered another round and slid to another target, lining up her shot and starting to squeeze.

Silvanius had been invited to come along on a hunting expedition. Normally she would have rather stayed in her room back at Tormentous citadel and meditate as well as train. But instead she decided to tag along with the Neti Sa'ato and a few other Sith. Kita wasn't interested in making friends with anyone. But she needed to know what these other Sith were like. "Keep your friends close...and your enemies closer...

She wasn't sure what they would be hunting. But the young Sith apprentice figured if she was going to hunt, she might as well bring what she already knew. Not sure if she would be needing armor this time, Silvanius wore her altered bone armored silver outfit. It looked the same to her more revealing outfit but had chest/shoulder and torso armor attached. She carried along her saber clipped to her belt. A pouch carried the dagger given to her by the War-Bringer Warvanus himself as a parting gift, along with a pistol in a holster.

She had let the AI fly her Y-T ship to through and into the planets atomosphere, awaiting patiently for the vessel to land. However, as soon as Silvanius got closer to the planets surface, she felt a disturbance in the force. Curious and concerned, she rushed to the cockpit. "Keep heading north. I sense something…" she said to the Ai. Without question It followed her orders. As they sped off through the sky, the sith apprentice kept her eyes focused for any movement ahead. Stretching out with the force, she knew the Neti and whoever else had accompanied him on this trip were in trouble. Since she was still mostly good natured despite the darkness slowly taking over her heart, Silvanius knew she had to interfere.

It didn't take long before she caught sight of a partially smashed speeder up ahead. The neti had taken refuge behind the vehicle, while the blonde she recognized as Kress began fighting dead on, killing two of the attackers. She didn't know who the Zabrak was, but it was obvious she had taken cover like the neti to try and rid of the mustafarians. Without a second thought, Silvanius raced to the turrets and sat down, taking hold of the controls, she trusted her training in gunfire with Jacobi and the late Warvanus. Allowing the force to guide her as she aimed for the sentinents, she opened fire as the YT 2000 quickly began speeding toward the group.

It appeared it was a minor group of mustafarians. But all armed and ready to dispose of the 2 sith and the pilot. For what reason, she didn't know, that is until she noticed their clothing. "Bandits…" Careful to not hit Kress, she aimed and fired at the nearest mustafarian. She felt the sentinents life force quickly fade as he hit the charred ground before aiming at another as they shot at the Neti. "Not today." She whispered to herself as she threw a couple shots at the gunman. The remaining two bandits looked to be staggering a bit as they began to try and lift their blasters. It appeared something had clocked the two in the head somehow, causing them to be somewhat capacitated. This just made the job easier in shooting the two down with her ship. Once the threat was eliminated, Silvanius sighed and began making her way to the loading ramp.

As the ramp lowered, the warmth quickly hit her in the face, her long blonde hair whipping about slightly as she stepped down onto the blackened charred soil. The heat reminded her of home...minus the smell of sulfur and smoke filling the air. She didn't much care what the group thought, except Silvanius knew they should have been awaiting her arrival instead of ditching her.

But it appeared to be a good thing the chosen sith apprentice was late to this party. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted a brow in curiosity. "Long time no see Kress. So you survived the battle on Vorpa’ya also." She said as she stared at the blonde sith before turning her attention over to the neti. "Sa'ato...the fact you are being attacked again...and yet you didn't wait for me? Well...that is disappointing." She tapped her finger in thought. "But I guess my timing couldn't have been any better. Late then never I suppose...or everyone would probably either be killed or stranded here for awhile." She added glancing over at the speeder. Turning away from the scholar, her blue gaze set on Emic. "And I don't believe we have met yet." She paused briefly as she observed the Zabrak. "And you are?"

“Oh- well, I’m so sorry to hear that-”, Sa’ato hacked and growled as he waded through the ashen aftermath of Kita’s counterattack, “And you’ll forgive me- if I didn’t wait- while you fawned over what to wear- in case your master showed up!”. The Neti coughed and groaned until he finally managed to expel all the smoke from his system, before slowly sauntering over to the yet-intact landspeeder. Grimacing as he did a periphery assessment of the damage incurred in the bombing, the professor temporarily removed the helmet of his survival suit to shake a handful of soot free from the neck joint.

“And for the record-”, the academic hissed while eyeing his tardy companion, “I’m not the one that got knocked unconscious with their own weapon last time: do try and show our colleagues here some respect”. Fitting his helmet securely back over his gnarled head, Sa’ato tapped a gloved finger onto the torn hull of the engine casing and began to form a mental checklist. “Miss Lai”, the Neti called out while retrieving an electrowrench from the speeder’s compartment, “Care to give me a hand? I think I can fix it and get us moving, but we’ll be here a while yet”. With that, the professor turned about

***
Half an hour later, the repairs were going relatively well. With some careful handwork, Sa’ato succeeded in rewiring the auxiliary power conduit, and even managed to re-graft some of the sundered metal with Emic’s assistance. The professor was just about to tighten the last bolt on the side panel when a piercing, squeak-like noise echoed throughout the shallow valley. Staring down at his wrench in confusion, the academic attempted to secure the bulkhead again, only for a trio of harsher shrieks to join in the chorus. It was only then that the retired teacher heard the thunderous cacophony of clawed feet on the rocky slopes.

As the clouds temporarily parted, light blazed down over the neighboring hill, and this time the professor had no trouble spotting the twelve reptilian bipeds that descended onto the party. Blistmoks. These scavengers were as swift as they were tenacious, tracking prey for up to days at a time before whittling down all resistance with their pack tactics. As the two dozen raptors moved to encircle the group and their transport, the professor cursed quietly under his breath at his ill fortune. Staying put for repairs had provided these uncouth beasts with a free lunch! Still, the academic would have something to say about that: no one ate for free, and no one got away with making a meal of him!

The blistmok nearest the retired teacher barreled toward him head first, its teeth bared and claws all but gleaming in the contrast of its emerald scales. Calling on the Force to guide his movements, Sa’ato waited until the carnivorous cretin was just within arms length, and brutally hammered the head of his wrench into its elongated skill. The beast staggered back with a yelp, but did not yield so easily. Springing up with powerful legs, the pack-hunter attempted to kick the Neti onto his back. However, his senses were keen and amplified on command. It was almost no trouble at all to sidestep such a maneuver. And then it was the academic’s turn.

Using the window the creature had given him, Sa’ato narrowed his gaze and channeled all of his focus into his right arm. With a furious crack, he brought the blunt end of the wrench straight down onto the top of the blistmok’s cranium. Letting loose an agonizing whoop as its skull splintered, the aggressor crumpled to the ground and bathed the durasteel tool with lurid blue plasma. Not wanting to try his luck a second time, the professor let his improvised weapon fall to the ground, and darted toward his concussion rifle leaning-to against the speeder’s exterior. As was his luck, the Neti had only barely clasped his hands over the stock of the blaster when another rough beast headbutted him into the chalky ground.

Were this the moon of Bogden some weeks past, such a ploy could have undone the retired teacher. Today, comparatively, Sa’ato was prepared, and sent an indignant blast from his weapon smacking up into the raptor’s chin. While this staggered the spindly stalker, it’s reflex was to clamp a surprisingly powerful clawed foot onto the Neti’s torso. Growling in anguish, the pair wrestled for control of the academic’s weapon for some moments, the blistmok using all the strength in its jaws to keep Sa’ato from taking aim. But at last, after guiding the butt of the rifle into the creature’s eye, the Neti instantaneously turned the power setting to maximum, and blew the beast’s left foreleg clean off of the ball joint. More hysteric cries followed, and the professor rose to his feet to turn his attention to other hostiles. If the crippled creature did not pass of its own accord, it would receive mercy only after the immediate danger had come to a close.

Ship fire rained down around Kressara, earning a cutting glare from the ground which could be felt all the way through to the hull of her vessel. Was she trying to get her killed? Close combat was no situation for heavy turret fire, and thusly, a little nerve in the back of the platinum's neck twitched. More so for her fun cut short than potentially losing a limb to a massive energy bolt fired too closely. Whoever was piloting that ship was officially on Kressara's list for the duration of the mission. As fate would have it, the shooter in question was none other than Tormentous's most recent acolyte. A glit tainted shine in the addict's stare simmered with delight at the late arrival's words. Her smile, friendly as a postcard, was nearly as sweet as her dulcet vocals despite having just previously shouted death threats towards their freshly gunned down attackers.

"Ah, yes. I imagine it was a great deal easier to survive that battle, you know, what with having stayed near the drop zone the entire time. I took quite the beating! So did your master. We ran side by side through that gauntlet, crawled through mud, cut our arms and legs on razor wire, killed a small army, spat in each other's boots...snagged the coordinates for the Harbinger...and even shared a drink together! Lovely time. I'd do it again if I could, if we're being honest here. I still have the scars actually. I'll have to show them off come time to stop for the night."

She just had a way of looking at someone like they were the most beloved being in her universe. That honeyed gaze felt like melted sugar on the skin…Kressara stepped in close, biting lightly at her own bottom lip with that oddly loving look in her glitter dusted hazels. Those scarlet, heat chapped lips just nearly grazed the skin of Kita's ear when a low, low growl rattled the crow's vocal chords.

"However, Ikari...next time you want to aim a ship's turret in my direction, helping or not...you better plan on killing me in the process."

Her injured spine clicked with the speed in which the blackbird pulled away, showgirl grin just as light and bright as before. Her plucky laughter was a full 180 from the warning Kressara whispered just loud enough for their fellow sith to hear.

"So let's do our best out here, okay! I'm gonna go search some bodies. Maybe get your things settled into the speeder if you're coming! Gosh, this is going to be so fun."


~~~


Time passed while the retired professor toiled over the speeder's damages and Kressara plundered through the belongings of the fallen bandits. Come to find out, they had some useful items! A few rations, a couple of nice obsidian trinkets made from the lava glass of Mustafar. Kress snagged each one free from their bodies and thought to hand them out later as keepsakes to her hunting companions. Most useful was a data chip containing maps of the area and marked locations for resting places. Now they knew where to go to avoid the predators of the region when it came time to sleep, but alas, their current location was high traffic.

Two dozen hungry, oversized lizards with powerful hindlegs encompassed the hunting party and their vehicle, to which Kressara leapt up from her spot on the ground with her blade at the ready.

"Gotta love Mustafar!" She cackled when one of the beasts launched itself after the Neti.

A pack. That meant there was a leader. Kressara scanned the creatures and her eyes fell on the largest specimen. It was a gnarly looking reptilian with a scar over its nose, encircling their dendroid driver. Her free hand snagged a dagger free from her belt which had been attached at the pommel to a razor wire, twirling the knife in a rapid circle before casting the line after her target. As Sa'ato blew the leg off of one of the lizards, Kressara ensnared the big guy's sinewy neck with her garrote and dagger. Her arm strained to hold the raptor in place, boot heels digging into the ashy ground. It gagged against the pressure on it's windpipe and flailed, giving the young woman a chance to yank the blasted thing down. The alpha toppled onto its side with a thud and Kressara snatched the line again, dragging the poor lifeform another foot or so against jagged lava rock.

"Here kitty kitty kitty!" Kress taunted the downed predator that struggled to right itself. She had him now. So long as she kept pressure on the line around it's jugular, she could keep the alpha at bay, gagging, and focused on her. With its confusion, the pack might also suffer.

"I got scarface! Pick off the beta's if you don't mind!"

Perhaps, just maybe, the glit-biter was smarter than she let on.

When Alexis's trigger was about half a millimeter from the hammer releasing and firing the slug, the raider in Emic's sights was split apart by means of laser cannon. Emic's finger eased off the trigger, and the Zabrak lifted her eye from the scope to see the situation. A freighter was hovering above the battlefield, spewing superheated tibanna gas that seared dangerously close to Kressara's dance of death. The Mustafarian bandits were done for, contending with a starship gun of that size. "Sorry, Alexis," Emic whispered to the rifle, giving it a consoling pat on the receiver, before slinging it over her shoulder and rejoining the group at the boarding ramp of the freighter, removing her cap and pulling down her headwrap for the moment to catch her breath.

Emic, as a social creature, could usually tell someone's demeanor at a glance. It was often in their posture, their gait-- and of course, their attire-- not so much in the face. And this newcomer had that insufferable attitude of most Sith, that too-big-for-your-boots kind of attitude. It was nearly universal, from the Dark Lord himself down to the least skilled hopeful. Of course, there was always room to be surprised, but the commentary did not yield much to disprove Emic's initial measure. "Lucky I showed up, otherwise you would have been helpless."

The response from the other two was fascinating though. "While you fawned over what to wear in case your master showed up!" Even eked out through a nasty cough, those words had bite. Go for the kill, Professor.

However, the reply from Kressara was the most intriguing. A story was told through this interaction, and it was stiffer than a drink in the Coruscant undercity. This must be Jacobi's new apprentice, if Emic was reading the story right. She didn't look like much; maybe the big, scary Dark Lord liked 'em soft. No time to ponder further, the show was still going.

Emic cheered the Crow on silently as social blood was spilled. Call out her cowardice. Yes, bring her master into it. Flex your muscles, blondie. Make it lethal! Those fighting words in such a saccharine tone. Delicious; positively demonic. I think I've changed my mind about you, goldilocks.

The only indication of Emic's internal feelings was a stifled laugh, caught in the throat to produce only a coarse rumble. The Sith addressed the Zabrak now, asking who she was. As if. As entertaining as it was to watch, the Chief isn't getting swept up further in this Sith holodrama than she absolutely had to. The Dark Lord's toy would have to figure out who she was on her own time. "And you are?" the newcomer asked. Emic kept her expression blank as she returned the Sith's gaze. "Your new stepmom," she replied curtly, before turning to the speeder to assist with the repairs.

She stopped along the way to give Kressara an approving tap with the elbow. "You throw a good cut, goldie. And you're alright with a blade, too." The Zabrak continued toward the speeder, muttering briefly to herself. "Lot of blonds out today. Feel like I'm at a beach party." She grabbed a hydrospanner out of the toolbox and started refastening the blasted components of the speeder.

---

Shaking the sweat from her head, the Zabrak stood up and admired the repair job Professor Mors and herself had just concluded. This hunting trip was quickly turning out to be cursed though, as she heard a chirp from over the ridge. Great, caught once again in a valley. She dropped behind the speeder and began to try and sight in the new assailants. Too late.

The Zabrak was toppled over by one of the beasts, sending the rifle spilling out of her hand and skidding across the ground. She managed to hold back the biting jaws of the raptor with her left hand around its throat, fighting through her jacket to grab a hold of her knife. The fabric covering her arms was ripped in a few places by talons grabbing at it. Through avoiding teeth, she was able to get her hand on her vibroshiv and swing it across the neck of the beast. A supersonic buzz combined with the splashing of blood as the blistmok curled up and died.

In that time, Kress had managed to wrestle the pack leader to the ground. She turned out to be scrappier every minute. Same with the Professor. A schoolteacher with a quick draw on a rifle. Impressive.

The blistmok pack stopped long enough at the desperate cries of their alpha to give Emic the chance to jump to her feet and grab Alexis. She turned it to one of the distracted raptors and decapitated it with 62 grains of metal slug. Anyone would tell you that shooting accurately by feeling is a challenging task, but Alexis was a team player; that was what Emic loved about her. With another pull of the bolt, the empty slug casing was ejected with a sizzle, and another rose to take its place.

Of course, the blistmoks appeared to rally after a brief moment, rushing to the defense of their leader. Emic shot the legs out from under another raptor as it sprinted towards Kress, but the Crow would have a lot more company soon. "Check your sector, blondie!" the Chief shouted as she sighted in another beast.