Upon Golden Seas [Kume]

[Galisdoren]

A clawed hand arched through the air, catching the golden sunlight that streamed through glass of the ship. A single finger parted from the rest, a sharp talon reaching out to press upon a button, ending the message that had so clearly rang through the confines of the fighter. The voice, so deep and mysterious as it had been uttered so carefully from the mouth of some unknown speaker. It was the third time that he had listened over the message, and still he wondered at it, untrusting it, and yet it had offered so much, as to pique his curiosity. It was an anonymous message, delivered to him so carefully as to insure it was only his ears that heard it. The man, his features never revealed, spoke to the acolyte as if they were cunning conspirators. That, of course, was far from the truth. Thamis only ever conspired within himself, and did not impart his plans into the minds of others. His knowledge was his own, his mind a fortress, heavily defended. But this man seemed to have breached his fortified privacy, to peek into his ambitions. He was dangling meat before a starving hound's dripping jaws.

According to the information given, there was a challenge awaiting him on Tatooine, one that would grant him fame among his fellow acolytes, if he should defeat this challenger. While it's identity was not revealed, he had been assured that he would know the challenger at sight, and he had been guided to the location where the battle would take place. Now he sat in his ship, The Talon, contemplating his next move. Beyond the cool interior stretched a vast sea of sizzling gold. A single glance outside threatened to blind the Sith, after his time in the darkness of his ship, and space. He was still determining the trustworthiness of the message. Would this be a true challenge, or an ambush? He was confident of his skills, but only to some well known extent. Thamis did not often surpass his limits, unless it was necessary. Should he decide to push past the line he had carved into his mind, it was usually only for personal gain, or for survival.

Deciding to trust his instincts, which was often what he followed when the way seemed unclear, the Sith stood from his chair, making sure that his ship was secure, before stepping out into the blood boiling weather. His first breath was one of fire, the blaze filling his lungs and threatening to incinerate them, leaving him to suffocate and die in the sand, but with a cough he recovered his composure and continued on his way. The town he had been directed to was small, but relatively crowded. Thamis moved into the street, wrapping his cloak around his armored, well molded frame. Behind his visor, piercing blue eyes assessed the land with a studious and intense light, searching for the opponent he had been promised, for something odd to rise out of the crowd, and catch his attention. His mind was sharp and quick to process all the information thrown at him, and reaching out with the force, something caressed his senses, an odd, yet powerful feeling that drew his eyes toward the dark furred canine that he quickly identified as a Shistavanen.

The beast wasn't quite as tall as he was, and looked young, possessing a rather charming appearance despite his feral features. He looked intelligent, as well, which was not a common association for the more bestial races of the galaxy, despite their sentience. But even more intriguing were the waves of power that rolled off his form. This wolf was a Jedi. Glaring at him through the crowd with a firm and dark scowl, the Sith acolyte approached with a steady step, his chin held high as the slightest sliver of a cruel smirk fluttered across his lips before fading from existence. Thamis expected the Jedi to notice him, of course, and already a hand had strayed beneath his cloak to finger the lightsaber at his hip. If this Shistavanen was not his challenger, then he had found something far better then what he had originally come for, and his actions truly would have paid off after all. With his thumb resting upon the button that would ignite the crimson blade of his weapon, his step made not a sound, nor did his voice, as his deep scowl had planted a thin line upon his face.

 

[Kume]

Why did he have to be on a planet with two suns? Surrounded by such a loud, obnoxious crowd of merchants and customers all speaking Huttese, which was a language that rang very harshly in Lol’vei’s ear drums. He was here for some just a while, just some examination of the area. There might’ve been something about purchasing parts before hand, but at this point the young Padawan was having a hard time finding a vendor that sold engine parts. Couldn’t really return to a ship with this kind of distance and this temperature. Speeder repair. His driver could fix it, but needed parts. So that’s why he was forcing himself to try and muscle through the street.

Ever since paw set down on that blazing sand, Lol’vei didn’t like the place. He just...it didn’t feel right. It felt like that feeling you get when you look down at the ground from a steep cliff. A sudden urge to jump. Exhilaration and fear and a sense of imminent death. But there was more to it. Like something behind him, making him want to jump. Driving him to jump, like a pack of hunters. He didn’t quite understand it, but it kept his ears up. It kept him on guard as he pulled his hood down, getting the full effect of sun on a grimacing muzzle. The only thing remotely cool on his body (besides his appearance) was his lightsaber. With his arms behind his back, under his cloak, it was almost like a security blanket. It was strapped across the back of his waist, horizontally and came out when a bit of force was applied. It was a good place to hide it: well within reach but also out of sight of any...wandering eyes.

He froze. Even with the blistering heat of twin suns, it felt like Hoth. His spine was straight and his ears were pointed as they could be, with an almost whimper of fright. No. Fright was bad. Fear was a path to the Dark Side; that was a universal truth. As Thamis neared, the taste of metal and burnt toast stabbed at his tongue. This was not normal. This was bad. Very bad whatever it was. Then the chill got worse. He’d never felt this kind of emotion before, this overwhelming sense of...of evil. He turned around slowly with a single word in his mind. A single, horrid word. Sith.

There was a black cloak and a cowl. Piercing blue eyes. It was him. The man was built like a brick wall, but he barely had the time to even notice. Remember your training he thought, be mindful of surroundings. Too close for lightsaber now...need distraction. With a flourish, his hand came out followed by a spinning robe and he felt this power flow from his fingertips, rippling the air with concussive force at the Sith. Then he ran. He didn’t care if it connected, it’d hit something for a distraction. For now, he needed an out. The houses were small enough to be climbed and that’s just what he did. From there, his hands hit the ground full force and he jumped and sprinted on all fours like a beast. Maybe he could find somewhere to hide. But if not...well, his Shii-Cho was well practiced.

 

[Galisdoren]

With his gaze steady, cold and calculating upon the Shistavanen, as if he could feel his own dark existence crawling through the veins of the padawan, turning them to ice, the acolyte waited for some offensive response. With the young canine's back straight and his ears pricked to take in the slightest sound of alarming nature, the Sith knew well enough that his prey was alert and prepared to spring into action at any moment. Would he bound away like most prey would, at the sight of some powerful predator lurking nearby? Upon further examination, the acolyte came to notice that the Jedi's hands were secured by his own grip behind his back, and his tense realization of the situation put Thamis on a familiar edge, as he prepared for some desperate attack. Fear. He could almost smell it, and if the man had not been covered in fur, or shrouded as he had been in his robes, the Sith was certain that salty beads of sweat might have formed upon his brow, and that, of course, would have made the experience more enjoyable. But alas, he took what he was offered without any further greed, and stood erect and proud, watching the wolf with his former smirk having returned at the touch of his opponent's fear against his mind, and he reached out with the force in search of further emotion that he could feed off of.

What did this beast's terrible existence have to offer him? Could he, perhaps, drive a vicious hopelessness into the Jedi's conscience? How satisfying that would be, to watch the padawan crumble, to squirm, to see his ideals shatter, like thin and fragile glass, or the surface of some still pond. With dark and malevolent thoughts swirling about his mind, and his sharp gaze trained upon his potential victim, Thamis immediately noticed the sudden action of the frightened Shistavanen, as he raised his hand toward his hunter. He could feel the surge of power rush forth at him, like some great and mighty gale threatening to take him off his feet, but the Sith did not back down. He did not even attempt to avoid the force push. Instead, he planted his feet into the sand, letting the sparkling, golden grit flow over his boots like water, and, bracing himself, threw back his synthweave cloak to reveal his dark armor, and thrust forth his own hand toward the great wind that bore down on his muscled form. Thamis's fingers stretched, durasteel glinting in the merciless and blinding light of two tyrant suns, claws slicing through empty air as he displayed his armored palm to the world and summoned the force into his limb. It took some bit of concentration, but where he would have been flung into the air, the Sith now only stumbled back a few steps, and with a quick recovery, launched himself into pursuit of the Jedi.

He was running? Was that what the Jedi masters taught their apprentices to do? Flee from a fight? Thamis didn't hate the Jedi as most other Sith did, but simply viewed them as more naïve to reality than his current allies. They refused to accept it, as he had, the idea of being utterly worthless, that they were all mere puppets for some cruel entity. It was a pity that so many led themselves astray of the truth. Strong white pistons wrapped in thick, well formed muscle and flesh pushed the human forward at an envious speed, as the knowledge of his great physical ability was thrown into existence. Many of the crowd gave gasps of surprise, quick to stagger out of his way, lest they be shoved roughly aside with hardly a glance in their direction. The Sith's attention was focused on only one being in existence at that moment, the Shistavanen Jedi. He was quick to mount the low rooftops, and Thamis drew in close behind, leaping atop the buildings and sprinting forth as the wolf hurled himself down to all fours, with each paw having connected with the rough surface in a powerful beat, launching the padawan forth at an even greater speed than before. It was a speed Thamis couldn't match, himself, bearing no feral enhancements as the canine had. His cloak flowed behind him, but it did not drag him down as he made the leap onto the next building. Ahead, it seemed there was a much larger gap to the following structure. It was something the Sith could use to his advantage. He assumed the Jedi would attempt to leap it, or whirl around to face him. Either scenario would fit into his plan well enough.

Thamis once more drew strength from the force, reaching out with his hand as if he could shoot the limb forward and grasp the fleeing Jedi, to drag him back to his doom. Taking careful aim, the Sith sent out a strong blast of his own, as the force rushed towards the padawan much the same way as it had rushed to him just a few moments earlier. If it hit, the push would send the Shistavanen plummeting into the alley, and perhaps even hitting the opposite stone wall on the way down before the sand would envelop the wolf. Once more, Thamis's hand strayed to the hilt of his lightsaber, ready to draw the trusted weapon into play as soon as he needed it. It appeared that the battle, if there was one, would be of simple standards. He might even be bold enough to call it short before it had even begun, if Thamis had not already known better then that. He knew that once prey was cornered, it would fight just as fiercely for it's life as the predator that had been hunting it, and every now and then, as rare as it was, it was the victim that came out on top, with some final and desperate reach for survival.

 

[Kume]

Keep going, his head and heart pounded out, keep going. His instinct had never felt like this, as if it had caught fire. The force blast he sent at the Sith had put up a shield against the opposition the Sith had launched at him which saved him some fuss. But right now...things were a bit painful. Hot sand on his padded hand and feet packed into the ceilings of the buildings he now jumped from and to. This was part of the plan that formulated in his mind. He would not risk innocent lives in a duel with this Sith, nor would he give the Sith any moral leeway by taking a civilian prisoner. It would be just him and Lol’vei. As he made a leap to the next building, he let the wind catch his cloak and off it went, flying backwards as Lol’vei bolted forward. His back was bare to the wind since he had not a want to wear a shirt today. Just cause, really, but also because it was hot as is without a shirt.

God, that was quite a gap. He started to slow a bit. He couldn’t make that jump...and as he looked ahead, Shistavanen eyes straining to get the full view, he was running out of rooftop. Then he felt a small burst of air pushing against him. Then it escalated into a gale that slammed him against his tail end and as his hand grabbed the edge of the ceiling, he flipped over. Now all it was going to take was a simple notion Lol’vei had perfected with years of unexpected occurrence. Think fast. As he went horizontal, he pushed off the roof and to the opposite wall, feet slamming in harshly and scratching coarse rock. Hands gripped the wall and he began to slide down on his nails. As soon as foot touched down, he bolted again but this time, his hand was out and in a flash of sunlight, the metal cylinder flew into his hand as he hit the edge of the town.

He took a minute to focus, then the golden blade erupted from his hilt with the signature hum. As he turned, his face was determined. Equal ground. No cover, no distractions. Just a desert, a Jedi, and a Sith. Lol’vei’s face was twisted into a determined snarl as his tail wagged in excitement. “Alright, Sith. I think we’re far enough. Draw your blade and make your move.” Lol’vei was being somewhat overconfident. Crimson eyes kept their bead on Thamis, confident in his own ability to use the little amount of environment. Time to see if training had paid off.

 

[Galisdoren]

His feet crunched on the grit that covered the roof, blown there by fierce winds, his muscled legs were a blur, with his armor clinking dully despite the padding. His breath came light and controlled, while his heart raced alongside his limbs, and his lungs burned with each breath of the dry desert air. Sharp blue eyes, hidden behind the Sith's visors, were trained upon the padawan like a hawk diving in on it's prey. His face had grown grim, an emotionless mask falling over his features, though only the thin line of his lips was displayed to the world. He watched his attack hit home, though not with the intended effect. The Shistavanen had managed to make it down to the alley relatively safe, with not even a bruise to show for the hit. The Sith pushed himself into empty air in pursuit, dropping into a balanced flip and striking the sand with a muffled thud, diving into a roll to help with the impact. While the buildings weren't particularly tall in the small town, breaking a leg would still be a simple matter. It took only a moment for him to recover before he was sprinting after the Jedi again, catching the glint of his lightsaber as the sunlight struck the metal. Thamis, of course, drew his own weapon, grasping it lightly, but leaving it sheathed.

The town faded behind them, shrouded by the haze of the desert, and a sea of gold lay ahead. The acolyte came to a stop a few feet away from the Jedi, taking in a breath that offered little comfort. He maintained his straight posture, and blank, somewhat menacing appearance. His pupils moved about to study every small detail of the canine, and one of the first things he noticed was the fierce wagging of his tail. The young padawan was excited now? As expected, adrenaline was probably rushing through his veins. He took a moment to analyze the tone of the wolf, and a hint of a smile appeared about his lips in recognition, before it was gone in an instant. Not a word was uttered in reply, as Thamis ignited his crimson blade, the light around it shimmering and distorted. The Sith raised the weapon, crossing it over his chest and reaching toward the ground with a hand. With a flick of his fingers, a broad and thick wave of sand sprung up into the air and flew at the Shistavanen. Following behind in a swift and prompt action, the Sith attacked, launching himself at his opponent. His saber slashed down through the air, attempting to carve a wound from the padawan's right shoulder across to his left thigh. A flip of his wrist then brought the blade in a sweep toward his opponent's legs.