The Godless Matron is home to many, resembling a micro-society for those who wish to live outside the typical 'rule' of the galaxy. The Lucrehulk-class battleship's massive hangars have been converted into dwellings as a result. Chute Town is the most notable of these makeshift towns. Many shops and storefronts have been constructed to take advantage of the higher volume of foot traffic. In addition, many ships and crews arrive into Chute Town to sell their "well-earned" commodities, weapons, or artifacts. It is commonplace to find the best and the worst gear the galaxy has to offer, it is only a matter of how big your pocket book is. The 'streets' are patrolled regularly by the crew of the Matron itself, leaving would-be miscreants to be more wary, lest they find themselves on the receiving end of a pirate's sense of justice.

It is built mostly out of spare durasteel panels from derelict ships, dismantled machinery, or any other source or material the pirates could scavenge. It spans the length of the massive portside hangar of the Matron, reaching from it's heavily protected reactor — hidden behind triple-reinforced blast doors and a guard retinue — all the way to the hangar entrance where the many incoming ships unload their cargo. It is more than a mile long, over five hundred feet wide and up to three stories tall, covering most of the floor. Chute Town's streets are a miniature maze, weaving in between buildings on several levels. Verticality is key for the masses of shops and bars to operate without interfering with one another. The main street is nicknamed Murder alley, mostly because all the weapon shops are prominently opened there.

Illumination banks are staggered along the walkways and buildings to provide enough light for the society to function. Still, the 'streets' are left dim with a low hanging fog built up from the collective humidity of so many people in one space. For those calling it their home, there is no such thing as 'off hours'. A large crowd bustles along at all hours, an exotic assortment of individuals from countless planets and the warring gangs that divvy up the territory within. It's the perfect place for those looking to disappear in the crowd.

Mune trode through the regular hustle and bustle of the alley. No shop among the throng held his interest for longer than a cursory glance. The sonorous voices of the busy market filled the young man’s wandering ears. The chatter, a wild cacophony of broken conversation and shady dealings. He paid none of it much mind. The streets were dirty, the citizens dirtier in another meaning of the word altogether.

Business as usual… Mune thought.

The Hybrid wove his way between the close knit bodies of the groups up vagabonds. He senses her before he saw her. A soft nudging at the edge of his awareness through the Force. She was not far behind. His pace remained unchanged, and his pursuer matched it. He sidestepped and ducked around the people that made up the crowd. Further he dove into the throng of activity. For another ten minutes he strode forth until he broke into an intersection bisecting Murder Alley. He halted. Turned. His eyes met with the eyes of the Sephi female only five meters distant. He could not help the impish grin that split his lips, nor the wicked gleam in his ruby eyes. The Hybrid’s grin widened. It took but a flick of his wrists and both of his lightsabers were called from their holsters on his upper arms. In the same fluid motion they were ignited in a cascading crackle of energy. Purple and blue, brilliant in their vibrancy. The crowd parted with cries of shock, and still more cries of simple outrage. “Vestril!” he called out. His voice cracked through the crowd like a whip.

As if on queue, the crowd parted and the two found themselves with a clear path to one another. Juggernaut and Arcanist stood with eyes locked, muscles tensed. Mune was already calculating routes of attack and defense both.

Vestril charged forth, the Sephi woman crossing the distance in a few quick strides. She grasped the hilt of her pike, the weapon activating in a brilliant crackle of energy. Mune’s eyes traced her movement, making note of how she moved. He shifted his own balance, dropping his left side he’d pivot sideways and catch the brunt of her attack upon one of his sabers. The snarling crack of lightsaber upon lightsaber filled their empty space in the intersection of the alleys. He could not help the gasp that escaped him at the sheer force of the blow. The weapons slid along each other, an intimate kiss of plasma against plasma that send violent light dancing upon their features.

She is strong, he thought to himself.

“Vestril… pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Mune greeted with a bit of a chuckle. Vestril did not smile. Orange-red eyes remained locked with the ruby of Mune’s. Their sabers disengaged and Mune hopped back to gain some space. “If you are wondering why I asked to meet you here…” “Does not matter,” she answered shortly. Her eyes blazed.

The woman thrust her pike forward, meant to take Mune in the left thigh. The Hybrid thrust the blade aside with a flick of a saber. She altered the stab into a slash. Mune turned the attack aside. He felt the brute strength behind her with every attack. He threw himself backwards to dodge the wild arc of a third slash.

She is fast too, Mune noted. His eyes narrowed. He shifted his weight onto his left foot and narrowly avoided another wild stab that missed his right shoulder by a hair’s breadth. He reversed the grip of his left hand saber and slashed to take the woman in the right hip. She jerked sideways and the blow likewise missed though barely. The Sephi’s foot lashed out and kicked the male’s foot out from under him. He dropped to a knee. Before she could follow through with her attack from her place of advantage, Mune thrust the Force forward in a vicious strike into the woman’s knee at near point blank. Pain exploded from the point of attack and Vestril stumbled back. Mune had reacted too fast and without enough focus to do any serious damage but he knew well it hurt something fierce from the grimace that twisted the woman’s face. She quickly grasped control of herself and shoved the pain to the back of her mind.

“Sorry, but nothing is ever so easy.” He eyed her, rising to both feet to face her once more. “You know that probably better than most. My apprentice, Braecen, was correct. You are something to behold.”

’His Braecen, no no no.’ The thought repeated again and again in the Sephi’s mind overtop the flood of returning memories. Anger spiked within her as her right eye began to twitch. The Arcanist tilted his head questioningly as Vestril deactivated her lightsaber pike’s red blade.

“My Braecen only said to meet you, nothing of after,” her voice dripped with venom, a murderous gleem shone in her reddish-orange eyes. With quick and precise flourish the pike found home again within its sheath upon her back. Her stance lowered and her muscles relaxed as her past began to blur in her mind.
Mune shifted uncomfortably as Vestril’s presence in the Force shifted by the second into something primal, feral even. His calculated predictions based upon Vestril’s previous actions began to break down, as the Warlord’s stance began to resemble something more like a predatory feline than a civilized warrior. The Force screamed warnings at the hybrid constantly as the Sephi seemed to be committing to and abandoning actions on a whim. To his further frustration, the woman had begun to mutter something under her breath, just quiet enough to be inaudible.

“MY BRAECEN, NOT YOURS!” Vestril suddenly yelled as her internal rage peaked. The hybrid jumped backwards as an onlooker, propelled by the Force, rocketed through the space he had occupied but a moment before. A crackle and flash of blue was all the warning the Krath had before lightning cascaded against his raised blades. In the blink of an eye she closed the distance between them and reached out, it was as if a pair of vices had grasped the man’s wrists. The sound of his lightsabers bouncing off the ground was lost in amongst the clamour of the crowd and the pain shooting through his arms.

With a thud Mune’s back hit the ship’s deck. Vestril straddled him and forced the man’s arms against the metal plating with overwhelming strength. The Arcanist’s struggled and thrashed his body against her in vain as he desperately tried to free himself. The Sephi’s head lunged forward, her teeth barely missing the hybrids ear. The Juggernaut moved her hands toward the hybrids neck. With a quick arch of his hips and a desperate push with the Force the Krath dislodged the Sephi from her perch upon him.

Both combatants rolled to their feet with outstretched hands. The snap hiss of activating lightsabers became lost amongst the cheers and boos of the onlookers. Several of The Matrons more entrepreneuring denizens had begun taking bets.

An animalistic growl rumbled forth from Vestril as she glared at the Human hybrid. The purple glow of the lightsaber in the woman’s hand played off her face. She surged forward using only the balls of her feet, long green hair trailed behind, the Sephi struck with all her might. Mune barely managed to keep hold of his blue blade as his feet slid backward. The Arcanist had no time to recover or think as a flurry of heavy hitting strikes crashed against his defenses.

A sudden and vicious kick from the woman found purchase upon his ribs. A whimper escaped the Krath’s lips as he hit the deck again. The Sephi leaped forward stabbing deep into the deck with the stollen lightsaber. The hybrid had managed to roll out of the way at the last second. Cutting upwards toward the man, Vestril freed the purple blade but missed again. The Force screamed at her, but she ignored it in favor of striking once more at the fuzzy eared man. Before the strike connected a pain erupted across her chest. A second later the Juggernaut found herself airborne then crashed into a merchants stand. For a moment she lost sight of Mune.

The Arcanist breathed heavily. He took the woman’s distraction to focus upon the soreness in his ribs. He could not ascertain the extent of the damage and chose to heal what he could for the moment. His mind raced over what patterns he had discerned, only to toss them out as quickly as he could pick them out. He recognized the power she had tapped into, and wondered at even the small bit of control she seemed to have over it. He shifted his focus and gave himself over to the Force, knowing his dependence upon seeing the incoming attacks would be key.

Vestril did not rise from the rubble of the merchant stand so much as burst forth from it. Bits of debris, battered wares, torn cloth and cracked wood exploded outwards as she thrust the rubble free of her body with the Force. Hence freed, she made straight for her superior. The adrenaline pumped firelike through her veins, finding purchase again in the heat of battle to keep her from feeling the few bruises she had so far acquired.

The Force sung all around the Hybrid, warnings and calls of danger with him at its core. He closed off what he could of his other senses and focussed solely on the woman before him. The purple of his own lightsaber in the hand of another, flashed viciously and missed catching him in the right shoulder. On reflex his blue saber held in his right hand lashed out.

Vestril caught the blow upon the stolen saber, a slowness in her own movements noted. Though it had been for but a minute or two under the rubble of the stand, it had been enough for the rage she had called upon to subside some. It was only minor, but, her muscles had already begun to grow tired from the strain of channeling the Force in such a manner. She drove past it, filing it as irrelevant to teaching the man before her who Braecen belonged to. She stoked again the fires of her anger and aimed a punch with her free hand to take the younger man full on in the face.

The Seer jerked to the side, the punch brushing but a few strands of hair. He kicked out, his foot taking the woman in the shin. When she stumbled off balance for but a fraction of a second, Mune surged the Force through his own muscles to increase his reflexes. His saber jerked free from the woman’s stolen one. He needed to free up a hand but holding back her saber took the strength of both arms. Weapons separated, he released the grip of one hand and thrust all at once, the Force point blank into her solar plexus. The telekinetic blow caused all the air in Vestril’s lungs to explode in a violent woosh.

Stars exploded across her vision. She was more durable than that, however, and did not go down. She raised the lightsaber in time to catch Mune’s overhead stroke. She felt already what had remained of her rage ebbing, and with it the rush of adrenaline. A frown creased the features of her face and she called the Force to impede the younger’s movements, and found to her chagrin that the boy could not be slowed.

“He is mine!” she shrieked at him.

Her breath regained, Vestril called the Force to amplify her speed, finding her muscles protesting the action. She slashed and cut at the man. Mune blocked the incoming onslaught with a grunt upon each strike. Her blows remained strong, her strength near overwhelming. Mune eased into a pattern of dodging and blocking where necessary. He searched for openings but the woman offered none. He would make one, he decided. He dropped to a knee, an arcing slash of the purple lightsaber in the Sephi’s hand going wide. Mune grasped the Force tight and thrust at point blank again. The power unleashed, exploded into Vestril’s right hip.

The pain exploded through her nerves. It took more than a little concentration with the exhaustion that was beginning to take hold, to force the pain to a dull ache. Mune rolled when Vestril stabbed the lightsaber straight into the deck where he had been. He rose. He saw clear the effort it took her to control the pain of the last blow. He relaxed, letting the tension in his own body ebb and opened his mind to the Force further. He channeled it through himself while he had the chance, letting it wash over him, encompass him and fill him as though a vessel waiting to be filled. He felt the aches of his own muscles, the heat of the numerous bruises. His mind worked to calculate in those moments how much longer he could keep up the pace, knowing well his body could withstand only so much.

“He is mine…” came the woman’s voice, as if reminding him she were there.

Mune dropped his lightsaber and instead drew his two swords. The crowd’s cheers roared all around them, a din that threatened to swallow them and never let them free again. The Hybrid reached out his senses, found an opening and swung hard his blades and let fly. Vestril was already racing at him. The swords went wide and rent the air between the people in the crowd and plunged into a wall. By Mune’s calculation, just within range of where he needed them. The woman was upon him. He kicked his saber up and ignited it in enough time to parry, two handed, the Sephi’s wild strike.

She breathed hard, screeching her frustration as she pushed as hard as she could upon Mune’s weapon. Sparks of purple and blue danced across their faces. Mune struggled to hold his footing, her brute strength making his muscles scream at the effort it took to hold her back.

“Mine! Mine, mine, mine!” she shrieked into his face.

“Would you be silent already!”

Mune dared shift his weight and thrust his knee up. The weight of the woman nearly took him backwards right then. He used the weight of her however, bearing down on him to drive his knee hard into her gut. She was tired enough that the blow caused the air to burst from her again. Her grip loosened enough for Mune to barely free up a hand from his saber and reach out. The Force answered. His swords burst from the crowd. Sweat beaded anew upon his brow with concentration. The ninjato whipped through the air, eliciting loud gasps from some of the onlookers.

The trick was understood then, by those that watched closest. Through flesh, meat and bone the blades plunged. Blood spattered across Mune’s features, painting his look of brutal determination. From the woman’s shoulders protruded the two swords, the points of the blades mere centimetres from his own face. Blood ran their length to drip upon his cheeks.

Vestril looked shocked, her stolen saber fell from her spasming fingers. Neither had been a fatal blow, but it had been more than enough to take the fight out of her in an instant. It had happened too quickly, and she had tired herself only enough that she had not seen the attack coming, so focussed was she on her own frontal assault. She stared down into Mune’s ruby eyes, the slits of his pupils looking no less feral than her appearance or tactics had been.

The moment was nearly tranquil. Mune shifted her off him slowly, removing his knee from her abdomen and sliding her to the side to rest her on her side. Both breathed heavily, exhaustion clear. Blood made them both appear a picture of violence and madness.

“In case you missed it. My name is Mune Cinteroph, Master to both your Braecen and our Empress Elincia. I am your superior. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Mune offered a bit of a grin.

Money exchanged hands around them. Mumblings of anger from the losers, laughs from the winners. Mune estimated they had little time to rest before they would have to move on in case any of the thugs got ideas. For the moment, he rested, and let Vestril rest beside him. He’d have to ensure her wounds were taken care of, he noted.

Long fingers grabbed the edge of the merchants stand, the thin metal creaked in protest at the Sephi’s grip. The Force flowed around her, taking hold of several of the items for sale, causing them to float tentatively behind her. A strong pull from her arm, push from her feet, and the Force propelled Vestril high into the air, items in tow. The woman’s reddish-orange eyes quickly spotted the hybrid and with a flick of her fingers the merchants trinkets rocketed forward.

Mune aptly dodged the Force guided projectiles with ease. His heart had begun to race and his adrenaline spiked as his lightsaber’s purple blade sprang to life in Vestril’s hand. Fear filled the Seer, ignoring the hybrid’s intellect his body had chosen. Mune’s blue saber sprang to life and caught Force guided lightning upon it’s plasma blade even as he leapt into the air. Escape was all the Human hybrid’s mind could process anymore.

Vestril watched the Rollmaster leap away even as the she landed hard upon the Matron’s deck and rolled forward. Her feet moved quickly as she gave chase, the stolen lightsaber deactivating. At first the crowds parted way for her, and the Warlord was easily able to keep Mune in sight. Though as they quickly grew further away from Murder Alley, the crowds pressed in tighter. The Sephi’s strides became slower and her breath became labored as the Rollmaster increased his lead on her. Then she lost sight of him amongst the press of people. Out of sight the fuzzy eared one slipped from her mind, her reddish-orange eyes turned to the lightsaber hilt in her hand.

“Where did I get this?” The woman murmured to herself as she studied its construction. With a soft groan Vestril sat against a bulkhead and flicked the activation switch. A slightly disgusted look came over her face at the purple blade. The Warlord quickly deactivated the stolen lightsaber and was about to throw it away when a man cleared his throat near her. Her eyes shot to the man and recognition sparked accross her face.

“My Braecen!” The Sephi squealed with glee as she quickly jumped to her feet. “It’s time to go home now, Vestril,” Braecen said as he motioned for her to come, and Vestril eagerly followed, a large grin across her face.