Covert Operations (Kyle Raiden)

[Khendon Sevon]

The air in the room was motionless, not a single particle stirred. Warm, dull, yellow lights cast somber hues on the single, small chamber. Deep, full baths of shadows pulsated and stretched. They controlled their territories with iron fists, not allowing a single drop of light to escape their clutches.

The floor was polished and wooden, ambient light scattered off its surface. Large pillars with intricate grains lined the long room. Windows displayed the darkness of the night on Delteon. In the distance, if one listened carefully, they could just make out the whine of engines and aerial craft.

In the center of the room stood a tall, cloaked man. The folds of his darker than night garb gently swayed in an unfelt breeze. His face was cool, collect, stolid. Eyes of silver glistened in the dim light. A blade remained sheathed at his side, a cylindrical weapon hanging loosely under it on the man’s hip.

A door at the end of the room slowly opened, “Enter,” said Khendon in an exhale.

[Kyle Raiden]

Kyle paused, his crystal blue eyes taking in every detail. The room was small, the air still. The lighting was dim, casting shadows around the pillars that stood sentry on either side of him. The Delteon sky loomed through a window. It was small. It was constrictive. It was Imperial. It was all for effect.

He cocked his head to one side, eyes evaluating the figure before him. Black...the new black. Like the room, the appearence of his superior was designed to intimidate. The Katana and the Lightsaber at his waist; the cloak that implied his Dark Jedi abilities; all effect.

Kyle was not a man to fall victim to intimidation. It wasn't that he was overly confident, or too sure of himself. There was just no point. This man was not his enemy. Nor would he become his enemy. Providing that Kyle stayed on his good side, he would have nothing to fear.

Kyle, in contrast to Khendon, dressed to go un-noticed. At times, for some people, such displays of identity were necessary. But for Kyle, they were not. He had no need for robes and swords. A simple black jumpsuit was all he wore; simple, plain, and purely functional. The only extra he afforded himself was the blaster pistol tucked into his belt. It was within easy reach, and in his hands, it was just as deadly as Kheldon's swords could be.

"Kyle Raiden, sir," he said in a calm, even tone. "I was informed my presence was required."

[Khendon Sevon]

The subtle lighting cast deep shadows on the rigid Imperator’s face. The warrior lifted a hand to the clasp on his cloak and undid it slowly. His stance remained firm and tall. “Mr. Raiden, do you understand the truth,” he said coolly, his voice tinged with ice. It had been more of a statement than a question.

Khendon’s hand threw aside his cloak in a twirling motion, revealing loose fitting combat garb. His sword hung on a shoulder holster, though it was low enough for a hip scabbard. The Imperial unclipped his light saber and threw it onto the heap his cloak had made. He cocked an eyebrow and gently took off the katana, floating it over to the wall with the force.

[Kyle Raiden]

"That would depend," he said, unfastening his holster, and laying it gently down on the floor, sliding across to the wall with his foot.

"I am familiar with meany truths." He adjusted his stance, relaxed but ready, prepared for whatever his superior had in mind. "Which one in paticular did you have in mind?"

Kyle's face was calm and peaceful, devoid of emotion...all save his eyes. They stared out with determination. Five words floated into his mind. Failure. Is. Not. An. Option.

[Khendon Sevon]

A grin passed over Khendon’s face. His muscles flexed underneath his clothing as he walked towards Raiden. “This is correct. However, there is one truth I speak of. Something you’ll have to learn.

“Many have sought it, and billions found it. You must live by it, if you are to succeed.” An internal emotion sparkled and grew. Hatred boiled from the depths of the Imperator’s being. Not a specific hatred, but a general one.

“Let the training begin,” he mumbled as he cracked his neck. He quickly threw a snap kick to Raiden’s neck, his clothing falling perfectly, not constricting his attack.

[Kyle Raiden]

Khendon's move was not entirely unexpected, although the flexibility of the attacker was a surprise to Kyle. He rolled his weight to his back leg, rolling his body away from the Imperator's kick. It still hit, but it hurt far less than it could have done.

As he twisted, his hand came across his body, pushing Khendon's leg away from him. This is the one time, Kyle, that you won't be reprimanded for hitting a senior officer. Make the most of it.

As the leg fell, he shifted his weight forward, freeing up his back leg. The momentum carried him round into a turning kick to connect with his superiors left flank. His toes pointed outwards, punching towards their target.

Even as he moved, Kyle prepared his next action. He only hoped it would be one he was able to use.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s face shifted in resolve as he entered his warring state. His mind tightened as his perceptions opened up. A trickling of the power of the force entered him as he fought back the urge to let himself free, the urge to become his inner beast. The Imperator knew Kyle’s attack was coming, knew where it was aimed, and knew what he was going to do.

In a blur Khendon moved forward, his palm flying forward and pushing at the man’s chest as the leg he had used for his first attack sweeped outward Raiden’s leg. It wasn’t a conventional attack, more importantly, Kyle’s kick connected with the warrior’s flank.

Pain pulsated as muscles absorbed the fury of the blow and then subsided as it fed the Dark Jedi’s actions.

[Kyle Raiden]

That was unexpected. Kyle felt the foot slam into him, not realising that it was coming. His flank met it, unprepared. It threw him outwards, his outside leg buckling underneath him. Ouch...that hurts.

Kyle fought away the pain on his flank, and converted his fall into a shoulder roll. He landed on his side, and jabbed out with his legs, wrapping them around Khendon's. He threw himself over, legs twisting through 90 degrees, still firmly grasped around his superior's ankles.

Dodge that, sir, he thought to himself, the voice in his mind flooding with venom.

[Sean Piett]

Kyle- very good. I enjoy your writing, and your participation in the Storytelling thread is really interesting.

[Kyle Raiden]

Thanks! :D