Penetrate [challenge]

I've got nothing to penetrate
And I've got nothing to elevate
I can't seem to concentrate
Cause I've got nothing to consecrate.

I wouldn't know the solution.
Cause this ain't my revolution.
I practice my prostitution
And spread the people's pollution.

I've got nothing to mediate
And I've got nothing to dedicate
I can't seem to separate
Cause I've got nothing to liberate.

I wouldn't know the solution.
Cause this ain't my revolution.
I practice my prostitution
And spread the people's pollution.

I've got no one to aggravate
And I've got no one to emulate
You want me to assimilate
But I'm not going to imitate.

***

The Krath, though in existence, was inactive. There was little that Salem could do to speed up the process of power accumulation for it, as the current members would need to ascend through the ranks of the Sith and Dark Jedi before they could have any real hope of making an impact. In the mean time, all that was left for the vampyre was to further his own personal strengths and the best way to do this was to fight. Not with his brethren, but with Jedi, who usually proved to be at least a slight challenge.

Coruscant was known to be their base of actions, so he sat on a street side, thinking as many dark thoughts as possible. The saber given to him by Jeseth was gripped tightly in his left hand, and ready to do to another what it had just done to the corpse at his feet.

So much had changed since the Krath's departure from the Sith Order, day by day the Order's stability grew more in question. Trust was sporadic, and the brethren slowly began drifting apart from their once sound pack. At least this was the case for one, Grev. Strolling down the dismal streets of Coruscant, his thoughts strayed into random assumptions; but one thought did linger in his head apart from the rest: retaliation.

Since the betrayal of the Krath, Grev had been masterless and somewhat unsure of his ardor with the Order. All he could think about was revenge, but the Order seemingly had no plans of requiting, or at least not yet. Lifting his glance from the pavement below, a familiar silhouette caught his attention.

Taken aback, he did not believe it at first; but the presence was all too familiar. Perhaps tonight his longing for retribution would be fulfilled, he thought to himself as a grin couldn't help from etching itself along his pale face. Reaching into his pocket he fingered the cold handle to his lightsaber, eyeing the shadowed figure ahead.

No sign was shown of Salem’s recognition of Grev, but he felt him. The Knight had trained with the apprentice in his time at the Sith Order, and had learnt his unique Force signature as he had done with all his former brethren.

“Drrrasssen…”

Bent over on the pavement, he looked akin to a hunchback, his tattered wings in a mound beneath his cloak. The glow that radiated from his saber cast a red light against his face, reflecting against two narrowed black eyes.

Stepping forward, the familiar voice touched Drasen's hearing; as his smile faded out of view. With a movement of a hand his lightsabre was armed and activated -- its own crimson blade glowing against his shadowed form. He stopped a few yards from the vampyre ahead.

"Your friends," he spoke silently, "Where are they now?"

He moved his lightsabre in calm strides, the blade strumming in the cold night air each time it passed. He stood, awaiting Salem's response.

“In our bassstion, farrr from your rrreach,” replied the vampyre, eyes focused upon Grev as a small smile threatened to creep onto his lips.

He made no show of movement aside from a very subtle turning of his wrist, that would give him better manoeuvrability should he have to jump into action.

"Too far to shield you?"

He scoffed, beginning to stride toward Salem once again. It was apparent that the vampyre had a better understanding of the Force than Grev, but since Salem's departure he had cumulated quite an aptitude with the lightsabre. A battle in which he could only win by relying on the weapon.

He stopped a little ways from Salem, awaiting with his blade.

Salem made no reply. He knew he needed to protection from others when fighting, especially in combat against Grev. Deliberately slowly, he stood up and lifted his saber into a loose guard over his body. From his stance, it looked as though he was lethargic.

“Ssstrike at me then,” he said lazily, gesturing the tip of his lightsaber towards Grev.

"If you wish," he muttered as he soon began to approach the erstwhile master, lowering his blade at a cant parallel to his side. He stepped from the shadows, the streetlight laving his features for the eye to see. Now, just an arm's length from the vampyre he stood- staring at the ground, oddly enough.

With his right hand still grasping the lightsabre, he gestured his left hand in a barely noticable motion. He beckoned a call to the Force, which Salem could probably sense by now, and as he glanced up an object hurled itself from the background.

A large trash container pitched itself into the back of Salem, or rather aimed for the back of Salem. It was merely for agitation at the moment, as he planned on using the oncoming distraction to his advantange.

Hopefully averting the vampyre's concentration, he bent his elbows back and brought the lightsabre around with a violent swing. A rubicund blur arose from below, attempting to bury itself into the side of its opposition; that being Salem.

Diversionary tactics were like pre-attack bombings in war campaigns – they alerted the opponent to an attack that was about to come, and did more to help those defending than hinder them. With the garbage trough rushing towards him from behind, Salem knew instinctively this meant that an attack was due from Grev on his front. Sure as the sun rises, the saber swing came.

As his response Salem stepped to the side, swinging his saber upwards to meet the opposing blade. The container still headed for Salem, though was now partially out of line on its course, threatening to floor both Salem, and more importantly, Grev by barely hitting the former on the shoulder and the latter square in the chest.

With the blades now interlocked, Grev was put with little ability in manuevering himself out of the path of the oncoming container. Sliding his left foot over slightly, which allowed for all of his weight to shift onto that leg. In a last effort move, he rotated his body so that he spun on his left heel, releasing the force of his lightsabre against Salem's own.

Just as quickly as he had turned, the blade of his sabre was now aimed for Salem's side once again- only this time it would drive the vampire back into harm's way of the container if he stood around long enough to parry the blade.

Instead of stepping back from harm, Salem walked right into it. He jumped at Grev and pushed his saber down upon the Sith’s so that the force of the attack combined with his own body weight toppled both combatants to the ground. The container passed above them, and the Sith Knight struggled to roll to the side away from Drasen as it halted its course and dropped from mid air.

With little room to give, Grev simply tumbled back with the weight of Salem falling down upon him. The container, as expected, passed directly above the both of them and crashed onto the pavement a little ways ahead.

Before having enough time to boot the vampire off him, he managed to roll away -- which gave Grev enough time to regain his own ground himself and climb to his feet. Now with a more breathable gap between the two, Grev managed for some verbal exchange.

“I do wonder the best way to butcher a traitor,” he paused for moment, appearing to be pondering on the subject with a mocking gesture. Soon, a grin curled along his lips.

“By the blade of my sabre, or by the revelry of my bare hands?”

“Your blade would not have the time to fall before I cleaved it from yourrr fingertipsss …” Salem replied calmly.

“Ceassse your yarning and fight, coward.”

“Funny how you use the term coward so freely, and without guilt,” Grev scoffed as he shook his head. He began to encircle Salem, pressing his lightsaber forward in quick jabs, for the time being just amusing himself with his opponent.

“If memory serves correct you were the traitor,” Grev shot forward with a fierce strike for Ave this time around. The lightsaber was swung with enough force to try and disarm Salem, as Grev pursued inward after the attack to drive his shoulder into the vampire's chest.

Salem’s saber was thrown sideways – thought it did not leave his grip. His arm whipped to the side with the force from the attack and left his body open to the barge that Grev then delivered. He was thrown backwards and had there been any air in him it would have been knocked out at this point. As he hit the floor, he grit his fangs and hissed up at the Sith.

“Being a traitor doesss not equate to being a coward… hiding in the arms of a dying faction, longing for prrrotection and security… that is what makes you a coward, and seperrrates the two of us,” the vampire replied as he began to stand up.

Once in a crouch, half way to regaining his footing, the Knight wretched out his free hand and throw a Force push in Grev’s direction.

Landing the shoulder into Salem’s chest, Grev stumbled back a bit to regain his balance. Seeing the vampire collapse to the ground, he began towards him once again; hoping to use the off-guard position to his advantage. With his saber arched and ready to strike, Grev felt a sudden jolt slam into his chest as it drove him back several feet.

Smacking into the pavement some yards away, Grev quickly began to his feet in defense of any follow up attacks. He snarled as he listened to Salem explain himself.

“You seem to be mistaken,” Grev slowly stalked towards the vampire once again. “The Order is no longer my home. But I didn’t turn my back on them, rather they were the one who put the knife in my back.”

His lips began to curl just speaking of it, as a clenched fist formed in his open hand. Glancing back to Salem, a grin formed along his sallow face. Deactivating his saber blade, he shook his head and began to walk away.

“I guess we’re not so different after all, vampire.”

Salem stood and felt a rare thing – the urge to laugh. But he restrained, and watched Grev move away before speaking out. Here was a chance to capitalize.

“… Perrrhaps not. Then why,” he said, spreading his arms, saber still ignited,

“Arrre we enemiesss…?”

“We’re not,” he replied, still walking away from the battle. It had came to his realization that he had no purpose in fighting Salem any longer. Why defend the name of something you were no longer apart of. He turned back around to face the vampire.

“Friend or foe; we’re neither. I’d suggest you live with those terms.”

He still held a grip on his lightsaber. Even if he had called an end to the fight, he figured it wasn’t over for Salem yet.