Pit Stop

Hideous

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They were closing in like a pack of wolves from all sides. Clumsy, stupid wolves, but they had numbers on their side nonetheless. Kalypsa could hear the slavers' heavy boots crunching against the gravel loudly as she continued to lead them around in a deadly game of cat and mouse. She was quickly running out of space to maneuver, though, so it was imperative that she bait them into an area that would somehow help to even the odds. She'd noticed that most of them were wielding electrostaves or other similar close combat weapons which could be used to neutralize rather than kill, so the good news was that she didn't need to worry about blaster fire. The down side was that she would be taken alive if they bested her, which most definitely wouldn't lead to anything good.

Trying to limit the amount of opponents that would be able to engage her simultaneously, Kalypsa chose the area that had the most obstacles scattered about. Heavy machinery and stacks of materials had been haphazardly left lying around, creating many narrow paths and choke points that she could utilize to her advantage. Having chosen where she would attempt to make her stand, Kalypsa scooped up a long piece of discarded pipe, ready to greet the first slaver who rounded the corner directly in front of her.

No less than two seconds later, one of them surged in front of her in such a hurry that he had trouble stopping in time, sliding forward a short distance over the gravel. She used that time to bring the pipe down towards the man's with all of her might, although it ended up striking the shaft of his staff instead as he brought it up to defend himself. That was fine, though, since she'd been given enough of an opening to land a solid kick to the groin. It was pretty much child's play from there. She let her improvised weapon fall to the ground, grabbing her opponents staff with one hand and pulling him closer while quickly drawing one of her blades with the other. The slaver gasped, his eyes wide with shock as the sword was impaled through his gut, twisted and then ripped out in what almost seemed like one fluid motion.

Kalypsa discarded the gravely injured man indifferently, allowing him to suffer while he bled out. Three more of his comrades were already upon her, so things were about to get much heavier. She charged the nearest one immediately, unsheathing her second blade in the process so as to give her foes the shortest amount of time possible to react. Her gambit payed off well enough, as her foes seemed taken aback by the fact that she was the one pouncing on them in a three on one situation and not the other way around. Finding her chosen target's guard to be rather pathetic, Kalypsa had managed to all but sever his left leg entirely with her very first strike, lashing out after having dodged the wild electrostaff thrust that had obviously been thrown with panic as opposed to skill.

Pivoting towards her next couple of foes before the first one had even hit the ground, Kalypsa stood with both blades at the ready, staring them down with a feral look in her eyes. Smartly, the slavers decided to flank her so that she'd be forced to defend on two opposite sides. She managed to deflect and dodge the first few blows, but it was proving difficult to strike back without leaving herself exposed. By the time she'd managed to disarm one of her opponents, the last two slavers had shown up, including their leader who turned out to be a woman wielding a nasty looking whip.

Before Kalypsa had even been aware of the woman's presence, the heavy tip of the whip cracked against the exposed flesh on her back, leaving a long and narrow laceration in it's wake. The cut was shallow, but the sudden pain caused Kalypsa's entire body to twitch and broke her concentration long enough for her defense to falter. The slaver that she'd been fighting who was still in possession of his weapon caught her from behind, bringing the staff over her head and using it to choke her.

Before she could react properly, Kalypsa ate a vicious punch in the face from the slaver who she'd managed to disarm moments earlier, busting her bottom lip pretty badly and causing her to drop both of her longswords. She brought both of her hands up to grab the staff that was still being tightly pressed against her throat, struggling and growling frenziedly as another heavy punch connected with her face, drawing blood a second time as a thick crimson stream began pouring down from her nose. The bottom half as her face was almost entirely covered in red at that point, and the coppery taste inside of her mouth was overwhelming. Kalypsa spat a mouthful of blood towards her assailant before mustering every ounce of strength and frustration that she had left.

She roared vehemently as she thrust all of her weight backwards, effectively managing to sandwich the slaver that had been restraining her between a tall stack of durasteel slabs and her own body. The impact was violent enough to loosen the chokehold, and Kalypsa immediately grabbed one of his arms which she broke over her shoulder. The sound of the man's elbow produced a sickening crunch which was music to her ears, as was that sharp scream that followed immediately after it. She caught the electrostaff as the injured slaver dropped it, swinging it in wide arcs in front of herself to keep the others at bay while she took a few paces back.

Droplets of blood slowly dripped off of Kalypsa's chin as she stood back, breathing heavily as she waited for her three remaining foes to make their move. The woman with the whip yelled out some orders to her henchmen in a language that Kalypsa was unfamiliar with, and the three of them began carefully circling her once again like sharks that could smell the blood smeared all over her face.
 

FallenKeeper

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Something was wrong. Something was always wrong, it seemed to the Zabrak, Vord. Staring pensively at the innards of his sublight engines he looked as if he were possessed. For the past several days he had been stranded on the planet with no clue as to what was afoul. Granted that Vord was no expert mechanic but the problem should have been clear as day, right? He'd only looked at the ship's systems over a thousand times. So, anything out of place would have stuck out. Or so he thought. It looked like a job for a professional, if he himself couldn't repair it. And that meant biting the slug and paying an obscene amount of credits. "Grand," muttered Vord, running a scarred hand over the stubs of his broken horns at the front of his dome.
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Vord walked lightly through a field of scrap parts with a datapad in hand and optic-sight veiled over his left eye. A metal clang broke the silence of his march as he stepped onto a durasteel panel. An echo stretched over the air and sent a tingle down his spine. For whatever reason, he felt a pull towards the west. Prior to joining the Pentacle Athame he would have simply assumed it was instinct, but now he new better. It was the Force. And always had been. Even now it guided him as he searched for parts, relying on it to identify what he needed. The mechanic had given him a list and already he was halfway done with it. The day seemed to be going just fine. With a final glance at the datapad he stuffed it inside his red reptile-skin jacket and continued forward.

It wasn't long before he happened upon a nice closed in area. Surrounded by mounds of scrap and stacks of possibly serviceable parts, Vord was certain he'd hit the motherlode. And then there was a clamor of shouts and the clang of weapons. Feet rustled in the dirt almost ten meters away on the other side of a four meter tall, two meter thick, wall of rusted and pristine debris. The Zabrak's senses seemed to magnify as he listened carefully to the event. He picked up on the breathing of three men and a woman... no, two women and five men. One of the men was breathing and heavily, as if he were in shock.

Weighing the situation carefully was something he didn't have time for. And though he preferred to avoid conflict he felt a sense of urgency. Vord needed to act, he couldn't stand there as a silent witness. Even if he had no personal interest. Moving with startling alacrity he approached the metal barrier of junk and leapt up onto the side. He stuffed his toes into some footholds and grasped a firmly wedged pipe with his hands, he appeared very much like a gecko! Keeping the same speed as before he scrambled up over the ledge and onto a detailed panel of durasteel, part of the hull of some ship it seemed.

He surveyed a unique situation. A woman stood alone against five enemies. A body lay near her, a pool of blood forming next to it, near the motionless figure of another man whose leg seemed to have been hewn off at the thigh. Though Vord could feel him still alive, it was a weak pulse. The man was in shock and would likely die of blood loss soon. If they were the lone swordswoman's companions than truly she was in danger. But the fact that she was the only one with a sword dripping blood was enough to reason she was responsible for the two on the ground.

Again a strong pull in his conscience urged him to favor her over the others. But he found it difficult to justify his intrusion in the fight. That was until some whip-slinging witch decided to look around and spotted him in the process. She let out a string of shouts and cracked her weapon towards him. Vord flipped off of his perch and landed with a dull thud. All he felt was the vibration of his bones. Nerve damage had dulled his tactile senses long ago, leaving him physically numb to a fair extent. Reaching into his jacket Vord sped to Kalypsa's furthest threat, all while avoid the range of the whip-lady. In two quick motions he drew and ignited his lightsaber. A silver beam hummed quietly as it idled as a threat. Until the Gladiator, Obelisk, swung the blade in a perfect semi-circle. The man screamed as he fell to the ground, armless and missing one leg.

Vord only hoped that was all he needed to do to end the situation. And Obelisk didn't care.
 

Ols

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Nescius Caedo was watching the girl. She was impressive given he was under the impression she had no formal training before that point. She relied on her instincts in a way that it took many acolytes a great deal of time to comprehend, to forget the idea of thinking through her motions, but simply to react purely and basely. It was almost beautiful to watch as she dispatched the first assailant with a gut wrenching stab to the belly. That kind of finesse could not be taught, as far as Nescius was concerned you either had that or you didn't.

Nescius himself often kept his eyes and ears open to prospective students. Often using minions of one sort or another to compile report after report, and track them through world after world, he would scout only those he saw real potential in. Standing, completely hidden in the depth of the shadows of the scraphead. Even if had not the ability to make himself appear almost invisible to the naked eye, with years of practice and experience, he could conceal himself in the shadows, looking simply like a piece of the background. He wore fairly standard garb for his position. Black combat trousers and dull black boots. A belt upon which hung little other than a few useful items, most notable his dark silver and black lightsaber hilt. Upon his torso he wore a hooded, sleeveless leather combat vest, which in theory offered him some light protection, but in practice was little better than a robe. His pale, muscled arms hung by his sides, a pair of black vambracer-like items garnishing his forearms, and a fingerless glove upon his right hand. The hood of his top was up, making his eyes look shadowed even if he had been standing in a spotlight. A short sword was strapped across his back.

He smiled wryly as she flawlessly incapacitated another attacker with an audacious strike, rendering him bereft of a leg. And then it seemed her luck had run out. Nescius was always reluctant to intervene in these situations, if the subject was not talented enough to survive the encounter upon their own steam it was almost as if they had failed their very first test. Yet Nescius did not look at these subjects as the finished articles, they did not have to be as good as a master marauder or assassin, they simply had to show glimpses of talent, showing they were ready to begin the journey to claim their potential.

He silently drew the short sword from across his back in his right hand. It was a simple thing, a dull blackish-grey metal, less than a meter in length from tip to hilt. The blade had a slight angle, a sharper edge down one side, and the hilt was little more than rubber tape wrapped around a dulled end of the blade. Holding it in his right hand, he surveyed the situation. Three men armed with electro staffs and one woman with a whip. Child's play.

Then something occurred that the Dark Jedi did not expect. A force user, wielding a lightsaber, joined the skirmish. This was surely no Jedi, aiding a damsel in distress, a Jedi would assess the situation and try to talk the entire crowd into being arrested before igniting his blade, and then he would hope that a lightsaber blade would be enough to deter one from attacking. Yet this was not a Dark Jedi, for one thing his blade was silver (although a red blade was not the be all and end all of a Bogan), and another, he did not strike as one. His interpretation of the majestic form was not perfect, but he fought to disarm first, rather than kill, which in this situation was irrelevant - this was not a duel, nor a battle of soldiers, these were slavers, criminals and, as Nescius' father would have said, 'good wastes of organs'.

Whoever this newcomer was, Nescius settled to hold himself to see how the situation played out. Between the two of them, the girl should have no problem surviving, and if she was in mortal danger, Nescius could always influence the battle to save her life. Flicking his sword so he now held it in a reverse grip, he folded his arms and remained hidden, surveying the skirmish.
 

Hideous

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Much to Kalypsa's surprise - and apparently the remaining slavers' as well - a third party suddenly decided to interfere with the battle. She couldn't really make out very much about the newcomer, but he certainly wasn't one of the slavers. Perhaps he had a bone to pick with them if they'd taken a loved one of his, she really had no idea what his motivations were, but his assistance couldn't have come at a better time. Normally, Kalypsa wouldn't have been too warm to the idea of somebody coming to her aid without being solicited, but her current situation was somewhat of an exception so she wasn't complaining. Hopefully he could at least hold his own, but judging by the fact that he'd willingly jumped into a fight with the knowledge that he would be outnumbered, she had to assume that he probably knew what he was doing.

In any case, Kalypsa wasted no time capitalizing on the situation, drawing on the force with all of her willpower so that it could grant her the strength and endurance necessary to carry on before charging head on towards her closest adversary. She sidestepped the thrust from his electrostaff so that the energized tip just barely missed her ribs before trapping its shaft under her arm and locking on to it, forcing herself and the slaver to get into somewhat of a grappling contest. The man was far stronger than she'd anticipated for somebody his size, probably having ingested some kind of drug judging by the look in his eyes, so he was already beginning to get the upper hand. He'd managed to pin Kalypsa's free arm to the side of her body, but was taken by surprise by the vicious headbutt that broke his nose. Two more of them followed immediately, bloodying the slaver up pretty badly and causing him to stumble backwards.

From there, Kalypsa was easily able to break out of his hold and throw all of her weight towards him, sending him crashing on to his back with her landing squarely on his chest. She must not have looked like a very far cry from a savage animal taking down its prey, lashing out wildly with her first and elbows. Her opponent defended himself as best as he could, but it wasn't good enough, so after about a dozen and a half blows had connected with his head he drifted off into a state of semi-consciousness. Kalypsa took a couple of seconds to catch her breath, her hair wet from sweat and blood hanging in front of her face as she remained hunched over her fallen enemy.

From the corner of her eye, she'd noticed the silvery glow of what she was able to recognize as a lightsaber. It seemed like her mysterious ally was far more capable than she would have guessed, assuming that what she'd heard about the Jedi was true. Rising to her feet, Kalypsa shoved the hair out of her face and casually stomped on the barely conscious slaver's throat, easily crushing his windpipe and ensuring that he wouldn't be alive for very much longer. With renewed conviction and determination now that the tide of the battle seemed to have swung heavily in her and her mysterious ally's favor, she went to pick up her swords which were still lying on the ground in case the Jedi needed any assistance of his own.
 

FallenKeeper

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Vord's display of swordsmanship did not deter any of the assailants. Much to his chagrin. A battle would continue after all and he had thrown himself in it willingly. Sort of. Rarely did he actually fight, but he'd been trained for it and was capable enough to hold his own. Angel had taught him well. As he turned to aquire another enemy he called his blaster pistol to his offhand and primed it to fire.

Facing down a wiry-framed Rodian, Vord noticed the weapon in his hand. He had no clue what it was, though he'd seen it plenty of times before. The use of it had never happened in front of him, but now he would get a taste. Silently he heaved his chest in a single breath and sprinted at the opponent, lightly hopping over debris as he made a bee-line for the reptilian humanoid. The slaver reacted by charging as well, and it was then that a draw in the Force could be detected.

The Rodian collided with Vord, clashing the ends of his electrostaff against the vibrantly glowing silver lightsaber in rapid succession. He pushed with his might and sent the Zabrak off balance. His assault was relentless as he pressed the attack, forcing Vord to dip, duck, dodge and dive to avoid being struck by the weapon. But it wasn't enough, the electrified staff caught Vord in the chest and sent him sprawling to the ground. The Rodian then proceeded to strike at his head ruthlessly, driving it into the dirt as a bloody mess.

That was what the Rodian saw, at least. But it was something Vord had planted in his mind the moment he began to charge. He never really attacked the Rodian, no. It was a ploy to even the odds a bit. While that slaver was busy mutilating a figment of his imagination, Vord was dealing with his partner.

The Gladiator danced back and forth, his lightsaber held off to the side in the traditional Makashi stance. Whenever the human slaver pressed an attack he would shift back and strike at an exposed extremity, leaving multiple knicks on his enemy's arms and legs. Vord enhanced his speed as he circled around the man to find an opening. He was a blur to the naked eye, zipping to the right and leaving a flash of light from his lightsaber as he made a precision strike to the man's hands. The two appendages dropped to the ground, still grasping the electrostaff. The slaver slumped to the ground on his knees, staring at his cauterized stumps with a horrified expression.
 

Ols

I've got a feeling...
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The way the girl took down her third attacker was magnificent. She used her speed and audacity to compensate for her lack of physical strength by comparison with her adversary. Consciously or not, that was enough to earn her plus points on Nescius' scale. And, he thought to himself, it was almost more impressive if that adjustment was subconscious, to have that kind of fighting instinct without having to think about it was something few people had.

It was a good thing she was not squeamish, her face covered in blood from both her own injuries and those she had dealt her combatants. As she stood and calmly, coolly dealt death to the man on the floor, Nescius' lips stretch into a smile. His scouts had served him well, the candidate was perfect.

With another flash of silver his eyes were drawn to the Zabrak. He was a complication at the moment. Still, he did not seem altogether useless, his lightsaber had dispatched one opponent skillfully. He almost cringed when he let his pistol flick up to his hand from his belt. A waste of the force, a trick for show offs and those incapable of anything truly impressive. Or at least that was what Nescius would have assumed if he had not then done what he did next.

With Nescius keen eye and experienc,e he saw instantly what the zabrak did, projecting his dreamscape into the assailants head, the man writhing left and right as he fought an invisible adversary. A dreamscape technique, even a basic one was extremely difficult to learn...though it was true that a number of force sensitives did have a natural aptitude for the skill. Still, even to project an image into a weak minded grunt took serious concentration, lots of practice and considerable skill. Particularly when he was maintaining the ever changing, reacting, fighting phantom, whilst duelling a second attacker at the same time.

Nescius watched as he severed the man's legs, but there were still two of the slavers left, the Rodian, still locked in his duel with an invisible opposite, and the woman with the whip. He toyed with the idea of entering the fray, moving through the carnage with speed and finesse, looking more like a shadow than an assassin and leaving the lifeless body of the woman oozing blood in the middle of the battle, seemingly having her throat cut by thin air. But Nescius was not ready to reveal himself in the light of the Zabrak's presence, not just yet anyway.

((This Zabrak seems extremely advanced for a 22 year old who's only had force and lightsaber training for the best part of 2 years of his life, imo anyway))
 

Hideous

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Kalypsa approached the Rodian slaver cautiously, squinting slightly and slowing her pace as she tried to figure out just what in the hell he was actually doing. He seemed to be going mad and fighting with some invisible enemy that only existed in his imagination, so she had to assume that it was somehow the Jedi's doing. She'd heard that more experienced Force users were able to gain a measure of control over others' minds, but it was quite impressive and even somewhat unnerving to see it happen directly before her eyes. It made Kalypsa quite uncomfortable to think that somebody could potentially do that to her, but at least this Jedi seemed to be on her side.

Having made it over to the Rodian, Kalypsa remained just out of range of the electrostaff while he continued to swing and stomp around wildly, waiting for a moment until an easy opening presented itself. As soon as one did, she closed the gap quickly and bashed the slaver over the head with the pommel of one of her swords. The strike was enough to daze her opponent who was now defenseless against the hard knee strike hitting him in the gut. As the Rodian gasped and hunched over to clutch his stomach, Kalypsa pushed shoved down on his shoulders, roughly sending him to his knees in front of her. She crossed her swords and placed them in front of her incapacitated foe's neck so that they formed an X with the flat sides of the blades resting on the man's shoulders.

Wasting no more time, she stretched her arms out towards the sides while keeping them straight, causing her weapons to slice through the slaver's neck as if it had been made out of flimsy cardboard. The Rodian's reptilian head rolled off of his left shoulder before falling to the ground with a dull thud while his decapitated body still remained in the same position, resting on it's knees until Kalypsa sent it tumbling backwards with a light push from her foot. Glancing back towards her would-be ally, she noticed that he was doing quite well for himself as expected, having cleared out every remaining enemy save for the witch who'd been leading them.

Kalypsa caught a glimpse of the woman, who was trying to book it as swiftly as possible now that her minions all lay dead or dying with various body parts having been severed. The Jedi didn't seem interested in giving chase, as perhaps it was against one of their codes or maybe he just couldn't be bothered, but the painful sting from the cut on her back was still very fresh in Kalypsa's mind. Sheathing one of her blades, she darted after the slaver with haste, making her way through the debris and obstacle ridden yard much faster than her prey. Having caught up quickly, she tackled the other woman from behind and sent them both crashing towards the ground, using the slaver's body to soften the landing for herself. It wasn't exactly the most elegant display of finesse, but it was effective nonetheless.

Dropping her sword, Kalypsa wrestled the whip out of her adversary's hand instead, not having too much trouble since she was on top and stronger than the rather frail witch. sitting on the woman's back and pinning her arms with her knees, Kalypsa wrapped the woman's own weapon around her neck twice before pulling back on it mercilessly. The witch tried to scream but was barely able to get a sound out as she squirmed and struggled wildly under Kalypsa's weight until her body had finally gone lifeless.

Feeling satisfied with the payback, she retrieved her sword from the ground and went back to find the man who'd helped her. He'd earned her thanks at the very least, but Kalypsa was also curious to find out why he'd actually bothered to intervene since he didn't fight with the fury of conviction of somebody with a personal score to settle, having remained rather calm and stoic as far as she could tell.
 

FallenKeeper

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Vord's lightsaber hummed steadily as it idled in his hand. His orange eyes were locked on thenow harmless slaver kneeling before him. The thought to end the man's life passed through his mind, but the Zabrak simply pushed him down with the heel of his boot and crisply turned to face Kalypsa. With a complacent look on his face Vord began to walk, but stopped midstep before reaching the woman. A groaning in the background caught his attention and he felt the life slowly trickling from the first man who he had maimed. Mercy had spared his life but shock would end it. Raising his blaster pistol he fired several times into the man's chest, abruptly cutting his life

The woman's presence was easy to notice now that she was one of the only three people alive on the field. Her energy confused Vord, he couldn't quite place where she fit on the spectrum between the light and dark. Perhaps she sat in the middle, or hid her affiliation well. He didn't care, he'd followed his urge and now the ground was littered with remains and limbs. "Well, one situation has been taken care of," he said as he extinguished his blade and returned the hilt to his jacket and the pistol to its holster. "I'm just passing through," Vord answered a non-existant question trying to dismiss himself.
 

Ols

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Nescius sheathed his short sword and walked out of the shadows. The danger had passed and it looked like these two were planning on leaving the carnage they had created. Walking into plain view, dropping his camouflaged veil of shadow, he surveyed the two orchestrators of the massacre, and their work. If murder was not a crime this sort of thing would win awards for fine art. Still, it was and before awards were given out, the artists would be arrested.

"Once you have someone at your mercy, as enjoyable as making them suffer can be, it's not worth compromising your own safety for. Whether it's stabbing one guy and letting him bleed out, you don't know he hasn't still got the energy to point a blaster and pull the trigger," while he spoke he wandered to and fro across the mess, bending over and inspecting wounds and corpses, "or even the witch you strangled...a cut throat or a stab to the heart would have also saved your time and energy, both of which can be precious.

"However, your form was impressive, your finesse likewise, most combatants who elect swords are far clumsier and imprecise. So with a point off for time management, and a half for bloodlust over practicality. Eight and a half out of ten. Not bad."

As if he cared that the zabrak may be feeling left out he added, to him, "Your form was a little sloppy, against an opponent with a lightsaber, or a fencer with more of an idea of what they were doing some of the flashier moves could've cost you. And the dreamscape, while imaginative and impressive, may not work against someone who's not a drone, and if you're not in control of when those kinds of things don't work...well it can definitely come back to bite you in the arse. Seven out of ten - you also lost a point for not just going for the kill. I know you've been trained, but that means you get marked at a higher standard."

He paused a second, before adding, "Okay kids, what's the deal? Electrostaffs and whips and chains from a slaving ring. They wanted you alive," he said to Kalypsa, his tone becoming more serious, "who did you piss off, are they still alive and do they have any friends who might pop up to finish their business?"
 

Hideous

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Stopping just a few steps away from the Jedi so that they were close enough to hear each other speaking without having the need to raise their voices, Kalypsa nodded her head slightly in response to the man's very brief explanation. He didn't seem interested in sugar coating things or painting himself as a hero, which was commendable, and Kalypsa didn't feel the need to seek additional information about his motivations. She tried to wipe away some of the blood from her face with the back of her hand, but she mostly just managed to smear it slightly. "Well then it was a happy coincidence for me. You have my thanks, warrior," Kalypsa replied, her breathing still somewhat heavy and uneven.

Before the conversation could go any further, she felt the sudden appearance of a powerful concentration of primal energy no more than a few feet away, prompting her to immediately pivot it its direction as her hands jumped to the hilts of her weapons. She saw another stranger approaching casually, the hood over his head hiding most of the features of his face. Definitely a Force user, and more specifically a very powerful one, since Kalypsa was not usually able to detect their presence unless she was focusing specifically on them, as was the case with the silver lightsabre wielding Zabrak. Curiously, the newcomer began inspecting the slavers' remains while transitioning into a somewhat patronizing and unsolicited monologue.

Kalypsa was usually not to keen on taking advice or critique from random people, but then again she'd also never been approached by such a seemingly powerful Force user, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Placing a hand on her hip, she listened while observing the man carefully, smirking slightly as he referenced the way in which Kalypsa had slain the slaver witch. The man's words rang true, of course, since she had in fact allowed her desire for vengeance to influence the way in which she dealt with the situation.

Personally, Kalypsa thought that she was undeserving of the high score having been attributed to her, being extremely critical of herself as usual, but earning any amount of praise from an advanced Force user was still enough to imbue her with at least a faint sense of pride and confidence. On the other hand, hearing that she was being held to a lower standard than somebody else definitely ignited the fire inside of her, even if she knew that it was a fair assessment considering her lack of training relative to a Jedi.

"I've made a lot of enemies, although I wouldn't have counted any of these bastards amongst them before tonight. They must have thought that I would earn them a good price at the slave auctions," Kalypsa replied honestly. "I'm sure there's more of them, though I don't know if they would still consider chasing me to be a profitable endeavor. I've no doubt that you could probably determine their affiliation by searching the bodies if you wanted to, although I had no plans of looking for their associates. I have nothing to gain from hunting down such lowly dregs, and I'm sure that one such as yourself has even less of a reason to waste time on them."

There was no honor to gain from killing random small-time criminals, and they weren't really skilled enough for her to learn from fighting them individually either, although there was obviously something to be said about strength in numbers. Unfortunately, taking on several opponents at once was not yet something that Kalypsa was very well versed in, as could be evidenced by the previous skirmish in which she struggled only to be saved by the Zabrak. Viewed from that angle, perhaps there was indeed something that could be learned from a quest to exterminate the remaining slavers of that particular group.

"And what about you?" Kalypsa changed the subject. "Do you make a habit out of grading combatants from the shadows, or are we the exception?" she asked, glancing at the Zabrak momentarily to gauge his reaction to everything that was going on as well.
 

FallenKeeper

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Vord was fully set on searching the surrounding piles of junk for the parts he needed, he didn't expect the woman to thank him or anything. He figured she'd simply collect herself and do the same. But she didn't and that caught him off guard. Courtesy from a blood smeared person was unique and something the Gladiator wouldn't disregard. "You're welcome." he replied before a sudden presence in the Force drew his attention.

The Man seemed to go on a monologue grading the two on their performance. It wasn't anything he cared to hear about from anyone. He'd done exactly as he chosen to, there was nothing else to it. Vord didn't find anything he did to be flashy but that was his opinion on the matter. When the woman answered the newcomer it was quick and she looked to Vord.

What was she looking for? That was the question that came to mind when he discerned the expression on her face. "I don't care much for grades," he answered plainly as he moved towards a pile of scrap, stepping over some remains.
 

Ols

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"Well then ignore the final mark and listen to the critique...I've yet to meet a perfect warrior, we can always improve and free tips should not be sniffed at...they are rare to come by," Nescius replied to the Zabrak with a slight laugh. Even if the kid wanted to ignore him, he could have been good natured about it, often one's reaction to criticism could tell much about a person. Somebody who had little interest in feedback had little interest in improving, and was of little interest to Nescius.

The girl however, she was less brusque in regard to the dark Jedi master, "Yes, I must confess you are the exception. But rarely do I come across such...skirmishes in scrap yards. I have little interest in the petty squabbles of ganges, but your fight was different."

He paused a second before continuing, "Not all combat is with regard to honour. A battle may well be beneath you, but that does not mean it will never be fought. It seems, as far as you are aware, that the night is over. But consider that the associates of the dear departed are seeking the killers of their friends, no longer simply for profit but perhaps for revenge. Consider the authorities can trace this massacre if they find the remains here in the streets, although rarely visited. Consider that the pride should be no cause for the fall."

"They may be hunting you, they may not care who you are, but you don't know which, so you need to disappear, untraceable. Time is on your side, but the crime scene is not, how many witnesses saw you and the pursuers on approach? How many saw the Zabrak's detour? How easy to detect will the sword and lightsaber marks be? You cannot leave this mess to be stumbled upon, and you need to disappear soon," he paused a second, before adding, seriously, "Get going."
 

Hideous

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Kalypsa just shrugged at the Zabrak's indifference. She'd been more curious to see what his thoughts on the situation as a whole were, as opposed to his feelings towards the evaluation that he'd been given, but it didn't seem like he was in the mood to talk. She was far from being a chatterbox herself, so she simply let him be. She listened to what the hooded stranger had to say, and she had to admit that he was actually making a lot of sense. She wasn't really too well versed with how society worked outside of Atrisia, and thus was not used to taking all of the things that the man had mentioned into consideration.

Kalypsa agreed that it was possible for the rest of the slavers to still come after her and that she should either deal with or avoid them, but there was one thing that she didn't exactly understand. "I can understand why the rest of these thugs may want to pursue me, but what would the authorities want from me? Surely self defense cannot be considered a crime?" she asked, feeling confident but not one hundred percent sure that she hadn't actually committed a crime. "Regardless, it's obvious that you have far more experience in these matters than I do, so I will defer to your wisdom," Kalypsa added respectfully.

She waited for the man to address her question about the authorities before leaving as he had suggested, glancing back at the Zabrak to see what he was up to. It seemed like he was possibly looking for something, although she had no idea what it could possibly be. He didn't really seem like the type that would scavenge corpses for credits or items, but then again stranger things had most certainly happened.
 

FallenKeeper

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Vord sifted through the pile, pulling out small motors, wires and scraps of various metals, to toss them aside in a seperate pile as he dug. He didn't know what he was looking for exactly, but something told him he would know it when he found it. It should have been in the pile. He felt it.

Vord crouched and dug deeper into the refuse while the newcomer continued his assessment. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, combat wasn't his strong point. The Gladiator was proficient enough, but most of what he did relied on the Force. He lacked the physical strength to actually fight well. It was clear to him that without the Force he would be a statistic.

Again he felt the woman's eyes and turned to look at her. Covered in blood, she appeared like an avatar of war. "He makes a good point," he stated, showing that he had been paying attention. "I'm taking care of a few matters right now, you could catch a ride once I repair my ship."
 

Ols

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"Murder in self defense is still murder," Nescius replied to the girl, "whether you did it to survive or not, you still have the blood of these...people on your hands," he paused to look her up and down, and muttered, "and all over your face and clothes as well."

The Zabrak made his comments and Nescius looked at him, before looking back at Kalypsa, "Well? Do you have time to wait for him to 'take care of his matters', and then repair his ship? Can you rely on his word and trust that he can deliver?" Nescius decided against following up his questions with the fact that the Zabrak had helped her fight off her attackers, and in that respect she almost had more reason to trust him than Nescius. He added, "You need to make a decision, and you don't exactly have the means to hook him up to a lie detector and see if he's worth gambling on. If I were you, I'd go with your instincts."

"Oh and whatever you decide to do, you need to get moving, massacres don't tend to stay too secret for too long," he paused, "and plus, you might need to help the Zabrak repair his ship if you plan on getting away before any...complications arise."
 

Hideous

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One side of Kalypsa's lips curled into a slight smirk in response to the hooded man giving her the once-over and mentioning that she was covered in blood. She hadn't seen what she looked like yet, as there weren't really any reflective surfaces around, but she had a vague idea. The explanation about self defense still being considered murder didn't completely convince her, but then again she had no idea what laws outside of Atrisia were like and everything else that the dark stranger has said sounded perfectly reasonable. With that in mind, Kalypsa decided to take his word for it, at least until she was in a position to verify the information herself.

As for the Zabrak, his actions made considerably more sense now that he'd shared his goal which was of course to repair his ship. His offer for Kalypsa to join him was slightly surprising, since he'd seemed intent on taking care of his own business himself a few moments earlier, but she wasn't complaining, It was almost convenient, depending on how difficult those repair would be and how long they would take, and she didn't exactly have any fantastic alternatives. She'd already wanted to get off of the planet before the bloody incident that had just occurred, so the possibility that both the law and a criminal organization would be looking for her was just more added incentive to move on to a new place.

She scoffed at the mention of the lie detector, not because she was trying to be rude, but rather due to the fact that she trusted her own instincts more than she would ever trust some silly gadget. "I don't need a machine to tell me what to believe," she added firmly while still maintaining the same level of respect for the hooded stranger. "This one means me no harm, I'm quite certain of it. It's not like I have countless options anyways, as you've already noted." She turned her head and shot another glance at the Jedi, who was still rummaging through various.

"Farewell, until we meet again." Kalypsa gave the man another quick smirk before turning her back on him to go help the Zabrak find whatever it was that he needed for his ship. She had a feeling that they hadn't seen the last of the hooded man. Perhaps it was the vaguely ominous tone that he spoke with, or maybe it was just intuition, but Kalypsa definitely felt that he had his own agenda that went beyond giving away free advice. Whatever the case may have been, she would find out in due time, but currently there were more pressing matters to concern herself with.

"The thing you're looking for, what does it look like?" she called out to the Jedi while approaching him. "It's Kalypsa, by the way." She figured that they may as well get the introductions out of the way quickly if they were to be traveling together for a while.
 

FallenKeeper

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Vord gave the man a polite nod, not sure whether or not he was leaving. Preoccupied with his search, there wasn't much else he would attend to. If their spectator had more to say, it would be heard, but not answered right away. The Zabrak dipped his hands into an open cylinder, pushing aside wires and miniature motors. His shoulders hunched as he grasped hold of something heavy and rectangular. "Vord, and I have no clue what it is called," he answered Kalypsa carefully, shifting his stance to provide the most leverage. Whatever he had hold of, it was secured in place very well. "I have a list of parts, I'll show you once I," he grunted very loudly as he began to pull, his lean figure barely showed through his clothes.

Vord wasn't very strong physically, at all.
 

Ols

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"Farewell indeed, Kalypsa," Nescius muttered quietly, his tone as if he was speaking more to himself than the two. His voice had taken on an echoey quality, as if being blown on a light breeze, so even his soft words would reach the pair over any background noise. He did not give away that he had known her name beforehand, speaking after she had begun to help the Zabrak. Yet, the way he said her name, confidently, it was almost as if his tone could have suggested the truth of the matter.

The Zabrak nodded towards him. Nescius said nothing, and stood, motionless. Whether either of them were watching it did not matter, but the Dark Jedi master, let the force swirl through him. To an onlooker it would appear as if he were dissolving into thin air. In actuality, it was a mirage, he was hiding himself, and as he left he would use shadows and cover in tandem with the force so he would not be seen. For all the pair in the junkyard could tell, he could have been a phantom, never really there. And yet, he was sure his path would cross the girl's again.
 

Hideous

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Kalypsa turned her head slightly, enough so as to get a glimpse of the hooded man meld into the darkness of the night before disappearing entirely from the corner of her eye. It was an impressive ability, and explained how he'd been able to observe the whole scene that had played out without being noticed until he decided to show himself. The power that the dark stranger radiated vanished as well, making him completely untraceable to anyone without extensive mastery over the Force.

The strange encounter also served to remind Kalypsa that she desperately needed to find herself an advanced mentor as soon as possible, although that didn't change the fact that she wouldn't be satisfied by just any average warrior. To be the best, she needed to learn from the best. Training didn't just miraculously fall from the sky, though. She knew that it would take either some sort of reputation or impressive feat in order to get noticed, and that was what Kalypsa was aiming for.

First things first, though, she needed to leave the backwater planet that she found herself stranded and perhaps even hunted on. She'd never landed there by choice in the first place, but that was unfortunately where the ship that she'd escaped on had landed. Her real destination was any planet with a well developed arena or coliseum. There, she would have an endless supply of opponents and the best chance of having the right person take notice.

Having grown impatient of watching Vord struggle, Kalypsa unsheathed one of her blades and swung with controlled power at the cylinder. She managed to make a vertical slice along the container's side, and from there was able to pry it open with her hands. It made everything that was inside far easier to see and get a hold of, so Vord would find it much easier to reach whatever it was that he desired.
 
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