Dragon Slaying

[Raif]

TATOOINE

As the Heartseeker made its final approach into Tattooine's atmosphere, Royston Spektor was seated next to his apprentice - and newly-minted Sith Crusader - Vica Veszk as she smoothly piloted the sleek, dangerous-looking vessel toward their destination. Well, seated wasn't really the best word to describe his present stature: it was more like a lazy slouch, honestly. He had the co-pilot's chair reclined back as far as it would go, one booted foot resting on a console while the other hung lazily over the armrest. He was staring up at the ceiling, his hands weaving lazily back and forth as he telekinetically manipulated a khaki-colored piece of cloth through a series of intricate twists and knots.

The Sith Lord was bored.

Not by his present company, of course. No, he and Vica were quite capable of keeping each other very entertained. He just wasn't a huge fan of space travel; it made him feel too cooped up, and the spy in him didn't like the lack of readily-accesible exits.

More importantly, though, there was a finite supply of alcohol on any journey through deep space, and Roy had already run out of the supply he'd brought with him. Not that he needed the booze, or anything. He just liked it, that was all. It helped take the edge off, and a man in his position always seemed to have an edge creeping in behind his eyes, threatening to spread into a migraine. A nice merlot, or a few fingers of scotch, or - better yet - a full snifter of brandy, that was the cure for the everyday rigors of life as a Sith Lord.

Shaking his head to get the thought of his missing drink from his mind, he turned to look at his student and lover. She had been a woman possessed ever since he'd given her access to The Vault, and though it had cut into their "entertainment time," he wasn't overly upset. He couldn't help but smile, a feeling akin to pride swelling within him when he saw the way she devoured any Force-based knowledge she could get her hands on.

He'd been right to pick her as his apprentice - Roy was almost always right, of course, but it was still nice to see the proof. The fringe benefits of their arrangement were pretty nice too, of course, but as a being that had dedicated almost the entirety of his life to the pursuit of higher learning and Mastery of the Force, it was her willingness to throw herself so completely into her new role as a Sith that brought him the greatest pleasure. Well, that may not be totally true - the greatest enjoyment, he should say.

"You know, I've got to say; I'm impressed. Barely a day since becoming a Sith, and here we are about to kill a Krayt Dragon. This idea of yours is either incredibly brave or incredibly foolhardy."

The broad smile on Roy's face as he looked at Vica - the keffiyeh still twirling in the air above him - making it obvious that, brave or foolish, he was ready to follow her just about anywhere. He swung his legs down from their lounging position and swiveled his chair to face his companion, the cloth sliding smoothly around his neck as he moved. It went perfectly with his outfit, of course, which was probably the most "rustic" that Vica would have ever seen him wearing : light green campaign vest, white linen shirt, khaki slacks and sand-colored boots.

Actually, come to think of it, the clothing was very similar to what he'd worn during their ill-fated attempt at Alter Environment training. Hopefully that wasn't a bad sign...

Moving on from that slightly bothersome train of thought, Roy leaned forward, staring at Vica for a moment - she always had a look of concentration on her face while piloting that he found adorable - before he asked her a question.

"In all the excitement of heading out on our little adventure, I forgot to ask: is there a purpose behind our intended slaughter of these majestic sand-wyrms? Or has the rush of becoming a Sith just turned you into a bloodthirsty shell of your former self?"

Royston winked - as he always did - then leaned back in his seat once more. His hand reached out for a drink that wasn't there, and he tried to turn the movement into a quick brush through his hair but was probably not that convincing. He was already thirsty, and heading to one of the driest planets in the galaxy. Perfect.

 

[Bee]

Rolling the pale yellow fruit between her palms, Vica pressed the sharp edge of her thumb's nail into the soft rind until the skin gave way, making a small incision that allowed her fingers to deftly separate the hidden fruit from it's peel. With Bakura in crisis, Namana was becoming a rarity in the galaxy - but that didn't prevent her from finding it with relative ease, not when she had an elaborate web of smuggler 'friends' to pull from, even if it was such a frivolous thing to call in favors for. It was clear she enjoyed it, savored it even, each small slice consumed with quiet reverie until it was gone completely and her fingertips, stained with the vaguely addictive juice, touched her lips with the same care.

And while she hadn't eaten the information in the innumerable books and holocrons in his vault, it would've been easy just the same to draw the parallel between relishing a favorite food and enjoying the chance to run free in a room full of otherwise unattainable knowledge; even if the opportunity to do so was hardly quite the rare treat now than the fruit could claim to be. Wiping the last of the sticky residue on her greenish-grey jeans, she turned pulled a quick grin at the sound of Royston's voice, guiding the Heartseeker through the planet's atmosphere with ease. "It can't be both?" She asked, knowing that it was both very brave and very stupid. But if some sad, stupid sand person could do it, what prevented her from killing some ancient creature with a bad attitude and a fragile sinus cavity? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Modern ships, regardless of their size, were a technological wonder. Practically landed themselves, and Vica's craft was certainly no exception to the rule. Requesting a spot in Mos Espa's only spaceport, her eyes roamed up from the console and out the viewport, taking in the massive dune sea as they made their approach, taken aback by how damn big it was. She'd lived on desert worlds before, but Tatooine was harsher, more difficult to inhabit, and frankly hotter than the lot of them, and despite her experience with the climate she wasn't looking forward to experiencing the overwhelming, soul-searing heat of the desert once more. With clearance granted, she sat back and let the navigation systems do their magic, double-checking her equipment to be sure that it was all there.

Her boots were laced tightly, jeans tucked in nice and smooth. Her long-sleeved shirt, white to reflect the blazing sun, was clean from any sticky juice that could've stained it on the ride, and her shoulder holster was snug and secure. The hilt of her lightsaber was accessible - taking the place of a blaster pistol - and the strap of the vibroblade sitting on her lap was ready to be slung over her chest, the blade of the sword nearly as long as she was. Tying a scarf similar to the one Royston fiddled with around her throat, she stood as the ship came down smoothly and stretched a bit, wearing the sleek-looking sword not unlike some couriers might carry a messenger bag.

"You haven't figured it out?" She asked with a smirk, wondering if she'd truly managed to get one over on him. "I need a new lightsaber. I can't expect to.. leave everything behind and hold on to the one thing they gave me." They being the Jedi Order, of course. Moving toward the unloading ramp, she assumed he'd follow - the idea of him waiting around on the ship while she went out and did exciting things just didn't seem likely, and the Heartseeker was home to her - leaving him to rifle through her things just didn't sit right, somehow.

"Silver is a good color. We'll match." Silver and gold. Master and student. It was a nice idea, if nothing else.

 

[Raif]

Watching her eat the fruit, Roy wished for a drink more than ever. He needed to be careful with this girl...but for some reason he just couldn't. It went against everything he'd learned over his decades of living in secrecy, but something about Vica just made him want to be reckless.

He squeezed his eyes shut, thankful that she was done with her snack and ready to depart when he opened them again. He hopped up from his seat to follow her, continuing the banter as they went.

"Well of course you want a new saber, Vica dear. That's not what I mean though. I'm just wondering why you're choosing this particular method to get it."

As he caught up with her, he reached out and hooked her arm with his, turning her to face him and he stood closely in front of her.

"Admit it: you're just trying to show off for your Master, aren't you?"

The way he said the word - not to mention the ludicrous wagging of his eyebrows - made it apparent he was joking around with her. He stole a quick kiss, then skipped down the ramp like a kid, making sure his lightsaber was clipped securely near the small of his back, parallel to his belt so his vest covered it.

Once he was off the ramp and on dry, sandy ground of the landing pad, he turned to look back at her with arms akimbo.

"So, what's next Captain Veszk? This is your show to run from here on out; I'm just your roguishly handsome sidekick from here on out."

He winked. Why was it that when other men winked, it was obnoxious - yet when Roy winked it just seemed totally right and appropriate?

 

[Bee]

At some point, playing the role of perpetually forbidden fruit had become less an act and more a natural way of being. It was so ingrained in her psyche at this point that she hardly noticed the way she popped the slices of namana into her mouth, blithely enjoying the tart sweetness like some holo-mag centerfold, the perfect picture of deliberate slowness and measured messiness as the snack disappeared. For Vica, it didn't matter if he was watching - it was really just in the way she moved. Patting herself down as she moved, careful to go over the short list of essentials as her hands touched them, she lifted her head as he hooked his arm into hers, head canted slightly to the side as though he'd asked the galaxy's most obvious question.

"Would you rather just buy it? It feels a little cheap that way." It was a test of wills, she figured. While Vi didn't put a lot of stock into the whole warrior culture that certain people seemed to hold dear, she still liked to fight. She still liked to win, namely. And she wasn't too concerned about besting a krayt dragon with a Dark Lord at her side, one who had what she assumed was enough power and command of the Force in his pinky finger to level the spaceport they were standing in. Rolling her eyes at his playful assumption, she nodded as though he'd managed to dig up some big secret she'd been trying to hide. "Yeah, that's obviously it. How'd you know?" Teeth gently biting his lower lip in that quick kiss, she surveyed the sandy town with both hands on her hips.

"Straight to the Dune Sea." The ramp closed behind them, and Vica moved down Mos Espa's main thoroughfare, the dusty road lined with small shops and taverns with only the slightest shelter from the blazing sun. Keeping her voice low, she looked straight ahead, not particularly bothered with the odd looks the inhabitants shot their way. "Can you make a storm out here, in a place like this? Maybe that'll get their attention."

 

[Raif]

Royston was glad that Vica didn't want to "just buy it" as she had said. Having a mentor with more money than most Outer Rim planetary governments had its upsides, of course, but there was a potential for the default answer to be "just buy it."

That was lazy, and Roy could see clearly that Vica wasn't lazy.

He walked along with her, copying her stride and ignoring the natives in the same way. He heard her question, and looked at her out of the corner of his eye, another impressed expression on his face.

She'd obviously taken her reading very seriously back in The Vault. Roy had wondered if she had caught on to the fact that Krayt Dragon's were highly attracted to Dark Side energy; now, it was obvious she had. His apprentice was impressing him at just about every turn, and for that he was very grateful.

Smart, hard working, and beautiful. Not a bad combination at all. He grinned as he answered her.

"I can definitely whip something up..."

He looked around at the daub-and-waddle homes surrounding them.

"...although we may want to put a bit of distance between us and these folks. Unless wiping this town off the face of the planet is something you're OK with."

Roy spoke completely evenly, not letting his opinion color his tone or words at all. This was Vica's operation, so it was her choice to make. He was, of course, very interested to see what her reaction would be.

 

[Bee]

While Vica had a lot of negative personality traits - she was selfish, stubborn, frequently jealous, and prone to violence - she was still a very smart, very capable young woman who knew the power of good research. She hadn't blindly stumbled her way into being one of the best bounty hunters the Hutts had on their roster, nor had she made any kind of misstep that would lead anyone in the Cartel to believe that she was anything but utterly loyal to their cause. When it came to killing an ancient creature and raiding the contents of it's stomach for jewelry, she was about as educated as she could be without having done the deed herself, with her apparent confidence in the matter stemming more from that level of preparedness than any sense of cockiness or invincibility.

"Okay, not right this minute," she clarified with a laugh, wondering if he really thought she was that reckless and cruel. "I'm not saying it wouldn't be the most exciting thing to happen to out here in this century, but.." Her voice trailed off into a lopsided grin. But I'm not the Empress, she'd wanted to say, keeping the thought to herself as though the woman could somehow hear her.

Fortunately for the two of them, even the busiest port cities on Tatooine were small in relation to most other places. Walking at a fairly fast pace they cleared the settlement in no more than ten minutes, and from there getting a few miles out from Mos Espa and into the Dune Sea was a matter of, at most, traveling north for an hour. They'd arrived in that golden window between high noon and sunset, when the air was starting to cool as the planet's twin suns began their downward descent. There'd be light for hours still, but the worst of it would soon pass.

Moving down into what was a rather wide-looking ravine, Vica stopped and took a look over her shoulder. The port city was hardly a speck on the horizon. "How about here?"

 

[Raif]

Royston grinned in satisfaction at Vica's response. He understood that violence, death, and destruction were necessary evils, as the saying went, but he was not one to promote them wantonly. As he always told himself, he was a Civilized Sith. The distinction may not have been important to most, especially those outside the Order, but for him it was important.

He laughed at her comment about creating a bit of excitement around here, then followed along as they headed out of town. As he reached into his vest for a bottle of lotion, applying it to his rapidly-drying skin as nonchalantly as was possible, he just couldn't help but reflect on their current surroundings.

"You know, the last time you and I went trekking into the wilderness, it didn't turn out too well for me. Or my tree."

He smiled and winked, showing that he was just having a bit of fun. As he'd told her at the time, that little training mishap was really not that bad compared to a lot of things Roy had dealt with in his life. He'd take an exploding tree over being stuck in a Jedi prison any day, for example.

After an hour of slowly making their way through the shifting sands - working his way through several more lotion treatments along the way - he finally stood next to Vica at their "target site." He looked around, nodding his head in satisfaction as he scanned the area.

"Looks good, cap'n."

Royston then swung his arms back and forth across his chest, then rolled his neck a few times before reaching down to touch his toes like an athlete going through a pre-game warm up. Hopping lightly back to his feet he smiled at Vica and moved to stand next to her. He let his hands fall down limply at his sides.

"Here we go..."

He closed his eyes - then immediately re-opened the one closest to Vica, looking at her for a moment.

"Don't move."

He re-closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths...deeper...deeper...

With each breath, his Force aura seemed to grow more and more. It was highly unusual for Royston to completely let go his typically-stringent adherence to Force Stealth, but now was one of the few times where it would serve some benefit. And Vica would get a front row seat.

His strength, his sheer being within the Force seemed to double, then triple, before growing almost-exponentially. At this rate, almost every Force user on the entire planet would be able to detect Royston's presence, but he wasn't too worried about that. After all, he was intentionally try to be an attraction after all.

As he let his power unwind, the Spymaster began putting it to a practical use. He reached out with his mind's eye, feeling for a moment like some sort of mythological deity, reaching down into the mortal realm and bending the very elements to his whim.

The temperature dropped almost immediately, Royston's heavy breaths coming out as puffs of frosty air within seconds. Clouds came rushing in their direction from all directions, converging over their position and rotating slowly, looking like some unnatural hurricane or typhoon. As the cloud cover thickened and grew dark, next came the wind. If it hadn't been for the slight barrier that Royston was simultaneously erecting - hence his encouragement for Vica to not move - the skin would have been scored from their bones in minutes by the now-rapidly-flying sand all around them. Even with the barrier, though, enough sand got through to sting, since Roy was using most of his energy on the storm itself.

FLASHCRACKFLASHCRACKFLASHCRACKFLASHCRACK

Lightning strikes fell with the rapidity of full-auto blaster fire, melting the sand at their impact points into shiny craters. As if that had been some sort of signal, Roy's eyes snapped back open. In truth, he didn't want to let the storm grow much more than it already was or else he'd be putting both of them at serious risk.

More importantly than that - at least, in regard to the task at hand - was that Roy was pretty sure the storm was beginning to do the trick.

 

[Bee]

Standing beside him, Vica shifted her weight some and turned her eyes to the sky, pulling the scarf up around her face as the storm began to take shape. It was odd to think that any one person could have the kind of power he displayed and that, presumably, there were beings who outclassed even Royston when it came to using all that the Force had to offer. Part of her wanted it for her own, but in a sense she was a housecat watching birds from the windowsill: as interesting and desirable as the depth of control he had was, she wouldn't know what to do with it if it she ever got it. Vica didn't have plans to subjugate parts of the galaxy or rain hell down upon her enemies - she only wanted to survive.

Predictably, the storm had done the trick. From the opposite end of the ravine a few vague shapes appeared at a distance, becoming more defined as they drew closer, traveling as fast as their legs would allow. The trio of krayt dragons jockeyed for position down the relatively narrow passage, knocking one another around with their heavy tails and spiked hides, and it seemed as though they might run the pair over in their haste to get to wherever that dark side energy had emanated from. Skidding to a stop a mere twenty meters away, they paced and roared gnashed their teeth, looking ready to devour the Sith Lord and his apprentice without hesitation or fanfare. But as the largest of the lot bounded forward - it's eager charge easy enough to dodge, yet forceful enough to send it running out of the mouth of the ravine - it came to a stumbling stop, the sand beneath it's massive feet shifting as though it had a mind of it's own.

With little in the way of warning, a large mouth emerged from below and snapped the dragon's torso into two pieces, blood staining the sand and letting loose a pungent, metallic smell that carried on the warm breeze. It didn't take long for the remaining creatures to realize - as much as their tiny brains would allow, anyway - that whatever was lurking in the dunes was bad news, and the best course of action would be to get gone.

So they ran.

With a roar that could've brought a ship out of orbit, the greater dragon rose from beneath the sands and bared it's teeth, burying it's massive snout into the body of it's prey. Ripping and tearing flesh, crushing bone, it pulled the thing apart in a messy display, unaware of the two relatively tiny creatures that stood, still as statues, hardly a hundred feet away. Eyes wide, Vica slowly looked to Royston for confirmation - it was almost too surreal to be true, a bad dream come to life.

 

[Raif]

Roy dusted off his hands, a satisfied look on his face as he saw the three Canyon Krayts headed there way. Three was a pretty decent haul - they should have no problem harvesting the pearls they needed, plus plenty to sell on the side for a pretty profit.

After the alpha Krayt made its initial clumsy pass at them, Roy turned to Vica, a witty comment on the tip of his tongue. But then he froze.

Something was wrong. Something was coming. Something big.

Of course, it was at that moment that pandemonium erupted from the sands beneath their feet.

Royston stood completely still, unable to divert his gaze from the awesome display in front of them: a Greater Krayt Dragon, barely a hundred meters away. The academic in him wanted desperately to study it; the Sith in him wanted to kill it; the Roy in him just didn't want to be killed by it.

The smart thing to do, of course, would be to use the distraction that the monster's feeding had presented and get the hell out of there. The genius thing, though, would be to carry out their initial mission and get a pearl from this big bastard. And, as he didn't mind telling anyone who asked, Roy was a genius.

Roy looked down to Vica, a grin growing on his face that gave his features just a hint of insanity.

"I'll distract it. Go!"

Roy gave her a slight telekinetic nudge, then ran in the other direction. For a moment, he almost started waving his arms and shouting to get the leviathan's attention. But then he remembered he was a Sith Lord. He could do a bit better than that.

Grabbing a huge mound of sand with his mind, Roy hurled it at the Dragon's face, aiming to get the huge mass of grit right in the Krayt's eye. At the same time, he began reaching out and reasserting his control over the massive Force storm that was still swirling over their heads.

Of course, Royston being Royston, he couldn't resist hurling a few insults, even knowing full well the Krayt wouldn't understand his words.

"Oy! Prick! Yeah, over here! I've got a belt and a pair of boots that look just like you; you missing a brother? Come on, you ugly bastard, let's dance!"

Roy was primed like a coiled spring, ready to Force leap out of the Dragon's path at the slightest provocation. He sincerely hoped his apprentice would seize the opportunity to nip in and do some damage on this thing. And hopefully not get killed in the process.

 

[Bee]

It was, by all counts, bigger than anything she'd seen before in her life. Larger than any ship, hell - it was even more massive than some spaceports she'd been to, and they weren't exactly living, breathing things with claws and teeth. For a moment that felt like an eternity, Vica stood there awestruck, blue eyes wide at the force of nature that had rose up from the sand to greet them. The pragmatist in her knew that the corpse of the torn-apart dragon between them and the abomination was likely to have a pearl or two of it's own; the fighter, the fatalistically stubborn brat who believed in her own invincibility, wanted to fight it - or die trying.

His nudge was enough to make her stumble forward, falling down to one knee as she looked up at the dragon with a mixture of fear and determination coursing through her. Any attempts to disguise her presence, a subtle shimmering not unlike the way heat rose off the ground on a hot day, fell by the wayside. Like Royston, she took off running - for Vica, her destination was the back of the ravine, further away from the creature until she built up enough momentum that a jump, aided by the Force, would be enough to propel her halfway up the ragged edge of the ravine. With a bit of telekinetic know-how and some clever maneuvering, she managed to climb to the top rather quickly, taking off at top speed for the greater dragon from a significantly higher vantage point.

Again, using the Force, she leapt with all her might. While there were certainly those who had figured out the mysteries of flight, or at least how to mimic it with the Force, Vica wasn't one of them just yet. The best she could do was slow her descent enough to land firmly on the dragon's head, standing steady between it's horns. Following Royston's assault with the mass of sand, the thing hardly noticed she was there. At least, until she drew her lightsaber from the holster at her shoulder, ignited the blade, and drove it straight into it's left eye, saber scraping bone before the blade went dark.

 

[Raif]

As Vica's Master - not to mention lover - Royston would have very much liked to have been able to say that he followed her progress up the ravine wall with rapt attention.

But that would have been a total lie. He had his hands more than full dealing with this very irate, and very large, nigh-mythological desert monster. And so he trusted her to do what she needed to do; she was one of the most capable people he'd met in recent memory, after all.

Roy's sandblast was super effective...which could be viewed as either a good thing or a bad thing. From the Spymaster's perspective, standing in shifting, ankle-deep sand with a lizard the size of a battle cruiser screaming at you in a mix of anger and hunger, it was definitely a bad thing. The big bastard looked almost comical, though, with one eye all puffed up and immediately irritated thanks to the metric ton of grit that Roy had just hurled against its cornea.

As Roy soon found out, though, Krayts didn't need all their eyes working to still be quite dangerous. Moving with a speed that was altogether unfair for a beast of its size, the Dragon swatted towards Royston with its front left leg, its tooth-filled maw thankfully occupied for the moment as it tried in vain to lick the sand out of its eye.

Roy moved with Force-assisted speed as the Sandcrawler-sized paw came flashing towards him. He took two quick steps and then threw himself forward, diving like a bullet from a gun under the massive claws, which left furrows the size of landspeeders in the sand where Roy had just been standing.

Back on his feet almost faster than he could consciously decide to do so, Roy didn't even take time to brush the sand from his clothing. If this dinosaur had known Roy, and how much he obsessed over his wardrobe, it would have realized the Sith Lord had just gotten deadly serious.

A flash of motion caught Roy's eye before he could launch another distracting attack at the Krayt, and he saw Vica leap onto the beast's massive head. The mix of emotions he felt at the sight was confusing; on the one hand he was more than a bit worried for her safety, but on the other hand he was proud and....something else?

The Spymaster shook his head, ignoring the warmth on his cheeks and fluttering in his chest and instead focusing on his student. He saw the blade ignite, and realized what Vica was planning a heartbeat before she drove the blade into the monster's eye. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to yell.

"Vica, NOOOOO!!!"

But it was too late. The blade stabbed inward, rupturing the ocular organ and superheating the fluids, and the Krayt reacted to the blinding pain almost immediately.

A scream, the likes of which the well-traveled Lord Spektor had never before heard, and hopefully would never again hear, split the dry sandy air of their little corner of Tatooine as the Krayt Dragon jerked its head viciously from side to side trying to dislodge its attacker.

Once, twice the massive head whipped around...

But not a third time. Royston had reacted the only way he knew how, with the Force, and he now stood - legs splayed, arms outstretched toward the beast with his fingers curled - and held the gigantic head and jaws of the Greater Krayt Dragon in the strongest telekinetic grip he'd ever before produced.

Pouring every ounce of energy he could into holding the monster in place, Roy was still almost no match for the raw power the desert leviathan had at its disposal. He could feel the lizard bucking against his invisible grip, and Roy knew as surely as anything he'd ever known that he would not be able to hold this for long.

Teeth gritted, sweat pouring down his face, Roy sent a short but powerful telekinetic message to Vica. It was a single word, but with as much emphasis poured into it as the Sith could muster:

<HURRY>

 

[Bee]

The dragon's eye exploded on impact, aqueous humour splashing down the front of her clothes and soaking her arms up to the elbows in the thin, vaguely sticky liquid. She'd expected blood, but the gelatinous fluid was better than the alternative - it didn't look like it was going to stain her clothes, and it didn't reek of poison the way the creature's mouth did - though she hardly had time to truly dwell on the peculiar stuff before the dragon cried out, muscles tensing as though to launch her off it's mighty head. But Royston's intervention was perfectly timed, giving her a small enough window to reignite the blade of her lightsaber and try the trick again, robbing the dragon of sight in both it's massive eyes.

Of course, the massive beast wasn't too pleased to be quite suddenly blind, plunged into a world of near-overwhelming pain. Breaking free from the Sith Lord's unseen imprisonment, Vica had only a moment to wrap herself around the thing's massive, slightly cracked horn as it thrashed about, roaring something awful all the while. It was terrifying, and only through the Force was she able to hold fast to the dragon's horn, narrowly dodging what would've been quite sudden, irrefutable death as one of it's claws rose to fling her from it's head. The gash along her back and arm, long but not particularly deep as she managed to swing to the side at the last possible second, weren't likely to be fatal. But they hurt like hell, and the blood as it bloomed from beneath her skin felt almost cold somehow.

In frustration, the krayt moved back some before slamming it's head sidelong into the wall of the ravine in an effort to throw her off. One, two, three times - her muscles strained and her connection to the Force wavered, until on the fourth blow she finally let go, half-leaping onto the same cliff she'd launched herself from to arrive in the current mess. Her landing wasn't graceful, more of a barely-controlled fall, tripping and rolling for a few yards until she came to a rather abrupt halt against a large boulder. Not dead, but not entirely alive, either - at least, that was how she felt.

Too blinded by rage and pain to know that it's uninvited guest had been flung from it's head, the dragon persisted in slamming itself into the cliffside. When it stopped, bleeding and oozing from it's former eye sockets, it was only to fall down dead with a low, terrible groan, kicking up dust as it's massive bulk went crashing down.

Rolling slowly onto her back, Vica looked up at the sun, at the clear sky, and raised a hand up in front of her face to block out the light. Everything hurt. But she was alive, and presumably in one piece - what more could she really ask for?

 

[Raif]

Royston felt the cold claws of terror grip his heart as he watched the Dragon slam its head into the ravine wall. He had held his telekinetic grip for as long as he could, but finally the beast had overpowered him; the telepathic shock of having his grip so violently broken had physically knocked him back and down onto one knee.

He’d taken only a moment to recover, but when he had he’d been greeted with the sight now before him: his apprentice – she was so much more than just that, of course – hanging on for dear life as this desert-dwelling monstrosity did its level best to show her its own custom version of the Vencu Head Butt.

And Royston was powerless to do anything to directly help her. As the fear, and the helplessness, and the anger for being helpless all surged within him a spear of pure Force energy, as black as midnight, began forming in his right hand. He may not be able to do anything to directly help Vica, but he could tear a hole through this lizard’s chest right where its heart had been. The Spymaster took a couple hopping steps, pulling pack to launch the Force spear –

-- and abruptly stopped, the spear dissipating into nothingness as Roy saw Vica’s bloody and bruised body leap (or fall) from the Dragon’s head and back onto the edge of the ravine. The monster continued beating itself to death, unaware that the target of its wroth was now out of its reach, but Roy could care less about the Krayt now; he was solely focused on Vica.

In a blink of an eye Royston was up the ravine wall, unsure of how exactly he’d ascended so quickly but altogether uncaring for the specifics. He ran with all haste to where Vica was now laying on her back, staring up at the sky, looking only slightly better than the now-dead Dragon spasming on the ground nearby in its death throes.

Roy skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees, immediately running his hands over Vica’s body to check for injuries or other trauma. The field medicine he’d learned as a Mandalorian was a lot more practical in this circumstances than the worried words of concern that were on the tip of his tongue, so he kept his mouth shut for the moment and focused on making sure this woman he cared about wasn’t about to die in front of him. Besides, she wasn’t exactly the type to swoon over the stammered concern of a wannabe Prince Charming.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

As he spoke, he rolled her shoulder slightly so he could get a better look at her back and arms – and he answered his own command. He saw the gashes that the Dragon’s claws had ripped through her skin, and though she was lucky that they were shallow, they were still bleeding profusely and were now crusted over with sand and grit. On a world of scarce moisture like Tatooine, loss of blood was a serious concern – as was the potential for infection thanks to the contamination of the wound.

“Don’t move: this is going to hurt.”

As he spoke, Roy had quickly pulled his shirt over his head. With one hand he held Vica still, using a combination of his other hand and his teeth to begin ripping his shirt into strips. While he was doing that he was focusing his mind, preparing to “dry irrigate” the lacerations via the Force.

Using his fine control of telekinesis, he ran his mind over and into the bloody wounds on Vica’s skin, dislodging and removing any and all foreign bodies he could find. It would have normally been painstaking work, but given the circumstances the Spymaster found himself in, he wasn’t surprised to find that he was motivated to do the job quickly and correctly.

Once the ‘irrigating’ was done with, he began using his shirt – which was now a handful of ersatz bandages – to cover the wounds and stem the flow of blood as best he could. He wrapped the strips around her arm, tying the knots as tightly as he could to provide pressure without causing undue discomfort, and then wrapped his belt around Vica’s chest to hold the bandages on her back in place.

Once he had finished with the ‘medic’ mask he discarded it, allowing the concern he was feeling to show on his facial features. He cradled Vica’s face in his hand, looking into her eyes with worry.

“That was incredibly stupid - but also damned impressive. Remind me never to make you angry.”

As he spoke he reached out to her Force presence with his own, hoping to use his strength to bolster her and help assuage the pain and discomfort she was feeling – even if it was only temporarily.

 

[Bee]

Laying in the dirt, Vica tried to convince herself that she'd been through worse. Normally, it wasn't a difficult thing to do - she'd been through a lot in her short life, most of it self-inflicted - but for whatever reason, she had little that could compare to being covered in a mixture of dragon eyes, her own blood, and whatever dirt and sand she'd picked up on her rather unelegant journey to solid ground. Maybe if someone had her at gunpoint, or if she'd rolled under the thing's massive body, the situation would be more dire. But the way the whole planet seemed to shake as the krayt slammed itself into the walls of the ravine was far from comforting, and she wondered how in the world anyone had managed to kill such a massive creature without a bunch of high-yield explosives at their disposal.

By the time Royston showed up, she'd started to make some progress as far as sitting up was concerned - not that he'd taken a long time in finding or her, or that she'd gotten particularly far in her endeavors - and tried weakly to wave him away. "I'm okay," she mumbled with a laugh, knowing full well that she was probably not fine, and that it was unlikely he'd believe her either way. "Just had the wind knocked out of me," she persisted, before he rolled her over to reveal the bloody mess of her back and arm, still leaking red despite the layers of dirt and sand that had clogged it up almost entirely. There was no point in fighting him, pride be damned, and with a bit of a whine - because it did hurt like hell - she covered her face with her hand and endured the treatment in silence.

It wasn't pleasant. Even the masochist in her couldn't find anything to enjoy in the way he cleaned out those claw marks, and that was saying something. Finally managing to sit up by the time he was through, that worried look on his face made her wonder if maybe she was worse off than she'd imagined, worse off than she felt somehow - could stubbornness really be that powerful? - closing her eyes as his presence pressed into hers, shoving aside the way everything seemed to burn and sting and replacing it with a dulled comfort.

"Not angry, just.. determined." She rubbed the dust from her eyes, wiping her hands on her jeans fruitlessly. "I'm supposed to be showing off or something." The slamming had stopped. Was the dragon dead? Vica couldn't say she knew for sure. Placing her hand over Royston's, she frowned a bit with a laugh, moving to get up. "Don't look at me like I'm dying, you're starting to freak me out." Lying around when there was work to do didn't really suit her, really. Staying still in general just wasn't her way.

 

[Raif]

Royston stared at Vica for a moment, taking in her bloody, bruised, and generally disheveled appearance. For a split second there were several thoughts to which he almost gave voice:

I was so worried...

I don't know what I would have done if...

Be careful...

He dismissed them almost as soon as they appeared in his mind, though - for most other women that had just gone through a death-defying dance with a Dragon, those words would have been expected and fitting. Vica Veszk wasn't like most other women, though, which was a large part of why Roy found himself so intrigued and enamored with her.

So he just laughed and shook his head as the pink-skinned woman told him to stop his worrying. He seized the hand that she'd placed on his own, kissing it quickly before standing up and helping her to her feet if she wanted the assistance.

"Well alright then, Miss Show Off. Quit lounging around then - you're only half done, after all. Now comes the oh-so-disgusting task of retrieving the pearl that you just risked your crazy neck for."

Royston was smiling and laughing, and he continued pouring strength and support at Vica through the Force, but he kept a very well-trained eye on his student/lover all the same. Her injuries were not immediately life-threatening, but they could turn that way in a hurry if the two Sith didn't get a move on.

 

[Bee]

Rising to her feet with a weak laugh, Vica squeezed her eyes shut, letting the wave of dizziness pass over her as best she could. "Don't pretend you aren't swooning over there," she mumbled with the slightest hint of a grin, shooting him a playful look when her eyes finally opened again. "I can see right through that cool guy act of yours, my lord." Well, maybe not - but it was sort of quaint to think that she could, even for a minute or two. Maybe the blood loss was getting to her, or maybe she had a profoundly awful sense of humor. It was hard to tell sometimes. Sliding her hand into his, she moved toward a not so steep slope that would bring them gradually to the heart of the ravine once more, moving carefully but as well as could be expected given the thrashing the dragon had given her.

"I really don't wanna," she half-whined, laughing until it hurt as they approached the fallen monster. "It's just so fracking big." More importantly, there was no way in hell she'd manage to keep the blood and guts off her - and she kind of liked her clothing, simple as it was, which wasn't something she could say about most of her belongings. Looking to the fallen krayt, she gripped her lightsaber and took the long, resigned walk to it's corpse with a genuinely tired look, crawling across it's still-warm corpse like a child at a playground. Less enthusiastically of course, but still. Teal blade coming to life, she stood on one of it's legs in a wide stance, slowly lowering the saber into the dragon's belly. Leaning back some as though she expected it to explode at any moment, the weapon cut through the creature like butter - which wasn't surprising, especially on it's underside - spilling out all manner of blood and entrails. It was hot. It smelled bad. And truthfully, Vica didn't like the idea of rummaging through it's entrails for pearls.

But they were here now, and after all they'd been through? Leaving the dragon to rot seemed like a worse fate than getting all bloody.

With a fairly generous hole cut through the thing's belly, she half-hopped, half-crawled down the multiple legs she'd pulled herself up on, widening the opening some with the tip of her saber, now almost knee-deep in viscera. "This is awful," she murmured, the sound of something squishy underfoot as she moved around, stopping a few feet away from the creature to put away her lightsaber. There was no way she was going to carve the thing up like a life day roast and go digging around manually - it just didn't make sense. Instead, she folded her arms and closed her eyes, reaching out with the Force to grant her sight through the mess and the pain that hammered away at her back and arm quite mercilessly. Looking like she was about to lecture someone with her hands tucked beneath her arms, one hip slightly out and her head cocked to the side, was hardly a meditative pose. But she didn't care.

There was nothing at first, only darkness, until the dragon's form started to slowly take shape as though made out of the sand beneath their feet. Bones first, then blood vessels, nerves, organs, skin - piece by piece it all came together. And layer by layer she could see herself peeling it all away, opening up the chambered stomachs to find a half-dozen small pinpoints of light, stars in the abyss, and draw them near. One by one, over the span of the next fifteen minutes, the fist-sized pearls slowly rolled out of the hole in the krayt dragon's belly, dull and bloody but more or less intact. Under better circumstances, using the Force to see and remove the strange objects wouldn't be nearly as slow or as taxing - but she was tired, exhausted even, and nothing about being covered in blood and guts was good for one's concentration.

 

[Raif]

Royston smiled his trademarked cocky smile, having to fight back a chuckle of laughter at the irony of Vica's statement. After all, the young woman really had no idea of all that she couldn't see through. There was no harm in letting her think what she wanted, for the time being at least, and so Roy just kept his mouth shut.

He walked with her down to the massive corpse that had been trying to kill and eat them a mere handful of minutes before. It was almost sad, seeing the big bastard laying there like a Wampa-skin rug, but Royston knew full well that the lizard would have spared no sympathy for his memory had the roles been reversed.

So the Spymaster wasted no more thought on the lizard, instead focusing on his pupil as she clamored up the dead dragon and began the 'extraction process.' Roy very quickly began giving a great deal of attention to his keffiyeh as he attempted to wrap the cloth around his face and head - it was the only thing he could think of to keep from laughing out loud at the disgusting mess that Vica was dealing with.

He couldn't hold back a grin, though, and allowed it to blossom into a smile as she desisted with the butchery and opted instead to finish her grisly task via the Force. Some force users, especially those that had lived so long away from any sort of Order, may have been hesitant to rely on the Force for such a seemingly mundane task. However, Vica's chosen method was not only more efficient but also a great deal safer, since it minimized the exposure of her open wounds to whatever may be swimming around in the Dragon's bodily fluids. So Roy was pleased.

He was even more pleased when the task was completed, and Vica had in her possession a total of six large, beautifully-flawless pearls. She should have more than enough for a new saber and still be able to turn a very hefty profit at the same time.

Roy walked over to her, slipping an arm carefully around her waist to avoid her wounds while kissing her briefly on the cheek.

"Good job. I'm proud of you. Now let's get the Kriff out of here, what do you say? I'm sure our little exercise here has stirred up the locals, and I really don't feel like dealing with people right now, Tuskens or otherwise."