::A light in the darkness:: (challenge)

[Saharia]

OOC: My rank is disciple.

IC:
::Saharia sat in the darkness of the desert night, a fire was alight and lit the landscape to reveal millions of mountains of sand, and her ship's shadow ten feet away. She was feasting on a jawa, a pack of jawas had tried to attack her ship today, or rather, take it. Not one had ended alive and she was enjoying the meal. Something in the force twinged and her hand went to her saber, Death, as she looked around the quiet land. A bunch of cactus's were on her far right, that would be the only chance of not noticing someone. Too much in thought she had been::

Who are you?

::She stepped past the pile of jawa bodies and looked around steadily, the bodies would be burnt tomorrow.::

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"Please! Please maham! Thar aftar meh and meh family!"

A middle aged man was running in from the east, a limp on his left foot. His clothes already ragged hung from his ghastly body as tears streamed down his boney face. He tripped over a rock and landed with a crack and whimper, straining to reach out towards the woman before him.

[Saharia]

::Saharia looked at the man, he looked pathetic lying on the ground but she did not judge people quickly, often the most dangerous ones were the ones that looked the most harmless.
Her hand on her weapon she stood up, and stepped back to allow space between them. She was not a jedi but if his enemy were of those she dispised she would help, and if not she would consider. She was a sith, but her war was with the jedi and their lies, not the common people.
Still she did not trust this man, he looked too much like someone she knew even with the dirty face hiding his features::

Who is trying to get your family?

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"Demons!"

The man shrieked loudly, burying his head into his hands as tears streamed down over his mud-caked cheeks. He sob relentlessly, body trembling as he rose up to kneel. One hand moved out from his face, leaving an imprint of his hand in the dirt as he reached out towards the woman again.

"You must stop tham! Thav already got meh wife!"

[Saharia]

::Saharia looked at interest in the man. demons? She was aware of the space between them and looked at the distant fire for a second, indeed hearign a womans scream. If 'demons' had got her, then there was no doubt she did not have much chance, but perhaps here was, depending on what the demons were. her voice she made calm to try and calm the man before her, much like she used to do in the council room in her old homeland.::

Tell me, what do they look like? I will help you if you are not jedi.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"I am no Jedi, miss, just a humble farm-maker,"

Seeing hope, the man scrambled up to his feet, walking shakily towards the woman, his saviour.

"Bless you, bless you if yah help meh," he spluttered, "I can'nae walk, please.. guide meh back to the settlement... and help... please..."

[Saharia]

::Sahaira nodded, a tiny blade was in her hand as she put the arm around the man, she wasnt known for her trust. Her senses and instinct was gaurding the mans movement to see if anything happened. Perhaps she should be more careful now but..... something was at that house and this man was not jedi, or a jedi she had made a deal with. There was only two she would help and that was under strict necessity. Walking towards the houe she breathed in the fumes of the fire, the screams, anger, panic, fear. It almost felt good, but she pushed the feeling away, her eyes trying to find who was doing this::

Where are your demons farmer?

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"In the dinnin room, mam,"

He trembled as he spoke, the sight of his house almost causing him to faint.

[Saharia]

::Nodding she looked around, and dragging the man, slowing her speed by half she kicked the door open carelessly, ignoring the fumes. A body, though she coudl not tell f it was human or not was near the door and she ignored it too as she went towards the dining room, or what looked like it with the table and the usualy things set in such a room. Her sense were keen to what was happenign around her and she pulled a chair with a free hand and set the man on it before entering the room, hand on her saber 'Death'. her grandfathers, Dragon, originally, taken by her mother and now to her. She had heard stories of Dragon, aand of the power it had wielded. Power Saphire had not tapped yet. perhaps she would one day. But today was today and it was time to concentrate on the present. Looking around the room, her senses were on fire, picking up the slightest sound in the air.::

Come out, come out.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The man slouched against the chair, wheezing, crying out in agony in fits and starts.

"U-up... s-s-s-tairs.."

[Saharia]

::Saharia looked at him, suspicious as to how he had a perfect direction to this 'demon'. Was this a trap? She didnt like the feeling she was gettign and was not stupid, but she never backed out of anything without a very good reason, and even then she rarely backed out to the point of stupid stubborness. She walked up the stairs slowly, looking around not with ehr eyes entirely, but more with every one of her senses. If this was a sith she would leave the affair now, as a sith was a comrade and honour demanded she did not attack them without strong enough reason, if it was a dark jedi it would be fun....a jedi would not do this. this was not the work of their type of lies. She said no word, there was no reason to speak. Actions spoke louder than words.::

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The farmer rose upwards, seemingly revitalized. As Saharia paced up the stairwell, she could here the pots and pans clattering downstairs, whilst upstairs a repetitive thud drew closer, and closer, and closer.

CRACK.

A piece of wood panelling to her left was cleaved out of its place as an axe, designed for chopping logs, split through the wall and narrowly missed cutting the young Sith in half. The one wielding it was a young woman, also tattered and bruised looking - but with a manic look in her eyes.

"Diiiiiii-eee!"

Again, she swung at Saharia, whilst up the stairs a young boy with only one arm threw himself down onto the darksider - brandishing a large meat cleaver.

[Saharia]

::Saharia did what was not expected, she smiled. A big, smile that held enjoyment in it, the thrill of a challenge and perhaps of facing death. It would be they who died, they who had attacked first. Death twirled in the air and sliced into the boys jaw, he was till alive but she could feel pain in the air, radiating like a becon.
The meat knife fell to thje ground and just caught her leg as it went down, cuttign into it slightly, her smile did not waver but her eyes did twinkle as the battle mode came alive, some might consider the sith a bit mad, but each to their own.
Pain she enjoyed, pain felt homely. Yes, pain hieghtened her spirits, made her senses sharper and she laughed, coldly. Face death with a smile, defiance, words her old master had once spoken to her. Farmers did not just fight, there was something behind this...and she would find out what.
Knowing the man would probably be fine, considering the actions of these two, she kicked the plank from the girls hands, flipped towards the girl threateningly and smiled as she stabbed the saber into the girls chest. Death was not enjoyable, and she felt dissapointed when the girl died, the pain slipping away from the girls mind. Saharia did not like death but it had to be done.
She liked to play with her food first. Looking at the boy she let her senses control her alertness, knowing them to be the best weapon and looked the boy in the eye::

What exactly are you doing? Are you willing to die so young, life not yet lived? Im not going to let you go now, you understand. Honour demands it, yours and mine, but if you will fight, at least make it enjoyable.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The girl toppled forward, her body slumping into the path of the young boy. Now without a lower jaw, he let out a shrill shriek and tripped over the female onto Saharia, spouting gushes of crimson all across her body as he clawed at her. From downstairs, the farmer let out a hearty yell then began to charge up behind Saharia with one of the splints of wood from the broken wall.

"DEMON!"

Upstairs, more movement could be heard as people rushed about, angrily - Saharia could feel the rage within this residence, and it was most definetly strong.

[Saharia]

::Saharia felt the rage, or more so the thrill. It felt like the battles she used to have, millions of people on each side. It felt like home. Fire danced in her eyes as she cut the boys head off without looking at him again, and concentrated on the man. She sliced his eyes, and then his heart. Another she went again for the heart. There was a single rage in amidst this rage. Why would so many attack, and farmer? These farmers were also warriors inside? they had that honour? she hardly though so. There was something behind this...
Kicking ones spine and hearing a satisfying crack as the pain heightened she smiled at one that came and her saber hit its home mark. Though as more came she grew bored. They were easy kills. Even she would have brains enough not to attack anyone if you yourself had no chance at all. There was something strange here. Killing another three without emotion her mind wandered somewhere else, as if seeking the true source of this.
Returning to the actions at hand she looked at the body of a four year old. Sadness was in her eyes, but not pity or guilt. That child would not have attacked. Four year olds were weak in spirit.
The senseless killing went on and she started to hate it, senseless killing was a dislike to her, and she did not honour it. Sighing she started to kick them near the neck, to a place where they would all fall unconscious. Pain she enjoyed, death she had enough of right now. Moving downwards she wondered how many people actually lived here. So far there had been twelve, surely there would be no more. The farmer's family, the servants...that would be it. It had to have been a wealthy farmer too. The feeling of more coming, or another was close. Growling in frustration she wondered who was playing games and not facing the battle like an honourable warrior. You did your own fighting. Was it one person, or a few people, or an object enchanting them like this. Either that or these people were crazier than she was::

what game be this? These people are not Jedi or spreaders of lies and do not have to die. What be you dishonourable one? Do spreading lies be your game also?

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A rasp came from back on the stairs, and as Saharia looked back to see its origin, she saw one of the headless body of the young boy grappling its way to its feet - shortly followed by his head which hovered uneasily above the laceration on his neck. His eyes seemed hollow and lacked emotion, though a grim sense of sadness was painted over his visage. Bloody tears irked over his cheeks, stained his long dark lashes.

"Why.. why..."

His voice was a whine, thin and insubsantial and though he spoke his lips did not move, just remained parted.

"... No mind, none. You cannot find us. They could not..."

This said, the body collapsed and hit the floor, with a thud. The noise echoed down below the floor boards, into the basement. Someone, in the darkness, looked upwards towards where the boy had fell, and grinned.

[Saharia]

::She heard the noise from somewhere, it sounded familiar somehow, but she could not place it to anyone... Entering the lower area right near the basement she followed where the sound had come. The boy she left behind, he was a corpse now. The darkness crawled in, envaloped the light and invited her to it's warmth. Darkness she liked, the feeling of the cold air, yet it had become familiar. The wood in the area was broekn and looked as if it may fall down at any time. How long had it been since people had come to fix this, or looked apon it. But someone was here..she felt it. Had heard it::

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Something hissed in the blackness of the cellar, then scurried across the floor, grazing against Saharia's ankle before shooting off somewhere into the shadows.

Vega watched through the blackness, pacing backwards slowly as one of the residents of the house fell in a crumpled heap down the stairs, headbutting the Sith in the back.

[Saharia]

::Saharia felt the headbutt, and turned around to see the corpse. Slowly she sank to the floor and turned the head around. yes, definantly dead. Standing she wondered where the brush came from. The only place was to go down. It seemed someone didnt want her to come down and she was never one to follow rules of an enemy. Her weapon in her hand she continued to go down the stairs::

Come out, I'm going to find you anyway.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"Are you?"

A voice cut the dank silence.

"Do you really want to find me?"

Whoever was speaking, the seemed incredibly familiar to Saharia. Their force presence was very similar to her own, only perhaps older.

[Saharia]

::Saharia felt the similar presence of darkness, of a traitor. it couldnt be. She hated liers, but most of all she hated traitors...
Looking around she smiled softly::

If you are who I think you are then it is in my honour I must face you.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"I can smell your fear, Azalin."

The voice was more forceful this time, and held a hint of disgust.

"This honour you have, it will be the death of you. You know you cannot hope to defeat me."

[Saharia]

::Saharia half smiled at the comment mentioning the link to her father. What exactly had that meant?::

I do not fear death, I fear life without honour traitor. I am not my father, I am only of his blood. Any sane person would be afraid of you, but I will not run with fear, always face your fear traitor. Always.

::She heard the direction the voice came from and followed the mind speech. Walking towards where she thought it came from her hand on her saber tightened and the thrill of fear raced in her, creating an energy that certainly helped in battles. A wild smile raced on her lips as she thought about her dance with death. A pleasant partner to dance with because when all was finished there was no pain, if it was to finish tonight which she did not count on.::

No I do not fear you in the way which you think I do Vega Van Derveld, past member of TSE and traitor to your people. That is you isnt it?

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"It is not, for I am not traitor, nor do I wish to be marked a member of TSE in any fashion, even if it is past."

He watched her draw nearer, using his voice as an aid to locate him in the shadows. Simply smiling, he rose one hand, causing the darkside to swell up around it, clinging to him helplessly as it was drawn powerfully to his being.

"I am the reaper and the hand of fate, I decide the path of your life from here on. Two roads to take, one to death, and the other to sublime life - unfortunately your path to elation is blocked, chaos-bringer."

[Saharia]

::Saharia smiled::

Chaos bringer? Not much of the TSE is left anymore but I remain true to it's memory. I may drift without a group now but at least I do not deny being a traitor.

:;She followed the voice, the sound becoming stronger. The darkness thicker in her mind, deliciously thicker.::

And what is your meaning about the sub-lime life traitor?

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"You will never know."

He strode forward, his boots clanging against the floor, loud and metallic as the shadows slipped outwards, revealing his form in the darkness.

"For today, you perish."

And with that, he rose one hand, seemingly empty and ignited a coursing yellow beam from it.

[Saharia]

::Saharia merely smiled, rememebring the words: Smile in the face of death, for he is a friend best avoided. She ignited her own 'Death', her fathers. And also ignited her mothers which she had renamed Saphire. SHe had adjusted Saphire and clicked the silver saber to her mothers, making a double sided saber, shame about the difference in colour, that had been unchangable and she perferred to preserve the colours, remnants of the taste of long dead relatives and ones she never knew.::

We all die sooner or later, and only Death will choose who he takes with him tonight.]

::With that she twirled it twice to familiarize her hand shape with it, making it feel like an extention of her arm. Standing she bowed her head to him as she did with all opponants if she had the time then wnet into a defensie/offensive pose that allowed movement to avoid and attack in battle. If she died today she would die with honour and a warriors fight. Or he would.::

May you die a warriors death with honour.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

"You are seeded first move, Disciple."

Vega grinned - he wanted to give her at least a bit of a chance to enjoy the fight.