At one point in time Luprora stood as a haven to the immigrated Lupr’or. The haven did not last as worsening climates reduced the population down to a single settlement. All that remains is the corpse of a civilization, constructed from a combination of wood and metal that barely resemble buildings. They function more as a protective shell and a solid frame for those that remain, hoped to be far outside the reach of the native threats.

The rising tide of the expansive seas lap at the outcroppings of obsidian rock that makes up what remains of the land. Mountainous croppings that shrink with the coming waters. Passageways and staircases are carved into the stone itself, left to assist those travelling in low tide. The scattered relics of technology lies abandoned throughout the expanse as a testament to the Lupr'or's original immigration, left unused and at the mercy of erosion and time.

The tide stands as the greatest threat to life on Luprora. Starting at its lowest point at dawn, the tide rises throughout the day and brings with it the native Tsw’ells. These tentacled monstrosities sleep in the earliest hours of the morning and reside in the ocean’s waters. It is ill-advised to travel along the shoreline, as Tsw’ells have been known to drag unsuspecting individuals to their deaths beneath the waves. These massive creatures aren't the lone threat to those who trespass upon the surface. The R’ora live among the shallow outcroppings across the planet. Extremely territorial, this species is sentient enough to wield primitive polearms and rely on the presence of Tsw’ells for protection.

Luprora the haven is a promise lost to the sea, with only the battle for survival left behind.

Seafoam splattered against dark stones as a muscular figure hoisted a smaller, flailing form up from the surf and onto solid ground. Dark brown eyes watched her sputter, coughing up water and chest heaving. Satisfied the half-Ryn was fine, Magik looked out with disappointment to see his prized Star Cruiser sink slowly into the depths, large pink tentacles gripping and grasping at the well maintained ship.

It was supposed to be quick mission, get his ex-Quaestor out of Dajorra space, collect intel on her capabilities, and report back. But his ship malfunctioned mid-travel and dropped the pair into the gravity pull of Luprora. Unable to steer it into a dry landing zone, the autopilot decided to deposit the cruiser into the sea. That's when he learned the woman had a pathetic fear of water and couldn't swim. Thankfully, the underwater beasts had seemed more attracted to the electrical energy the shuttle was giving off than him struggling with her and his light armor swimming to shore.

I triple-checked everything before we left, how... the Sith’s brow furrowed as he contemplated sabotage. Rather than dwelling on it to long, however, Magik decided to busy himself with finding a way off this planet. He drew his left wrist up, snapping open the commlink, and realizing the water had soaked the electronics — not that the one hundred kilometer range would've reached anyone. He frantically checked the rest of his devices and found the same.

“Do you have any functioning devices, Zujenia.”

No response.

Magik twisted around and stood, his armor bubble, gurgling with trapped water as he did. The hybrid was missing from where she had previously been splayed on the rocks. Inhaling deeply with growing exasperation, he tracked a trail of wet footprints up the outcrop inland. It wasn't long before he spotted Zujenia, standing wide-eyed and panting, her ashen hair pasted against her face as she glanced about for a safe route. Was this woman really the head of the Qel-Droman House once? Magik was getting more and more sceptical of her abilities, and more agitated.

“Zujenia.”

“We need to move inward, the tide will be rising,” she quickly replied, her tone barely giving away her fear driven fabrication.

“Zujenia.” his voice demanded her to stop and listen, “we should stay near the coordinates of the ship should —”

“If anyone comes, they can use their scanners to find us. Comeon.” The woman skittered across the slope as fast as her short height and thick build would allow, sandy tail wrapped about her ripped pants.

That was the last straw for Magik. His ship was drowned and food for beasts, his tools ruined. The wind chilled his skin and his cloak was abandoned, floating at sea. All while he was stuck dealing with this spineless mutt. The Force licked to his fingertips and he fixed his attention to several loose stones gathered in a slight pit to his right. With a flick of his wrist, they propelled towards the half-Ryn. She slipped, falling below the majority’s trajectory, but a dagger-sized rock collided into her back.

Zujenia let out a small cry of pain, dropping down to the small ledge a couple feet below her into a crouch. Her amber eyes shot back at him, silently searching for an explanation. He wouldn't grant her one, lifting two more pebbles and lobing them. She tucked her shoulder and rolled out of the way barely, a welt already forming on her back from the first hit. With a raised hand of her own and a desperate attempt to keep from fighting so near to the ocean still, Zujenia folded the Force about Magik, freezing his movements.

“Stop, Magik!” she demanded, shoulders shaking. “We don't need to fight.”

Frustration welled in the Sith, his body failing to bid his will. He was sent to test her and now he was even happier to do so. Heartbeats passed, his fingertips twitched at his side before he felt the hold drop. With the slightest grin, Magik aimed his lanvarok wrist launcher and ejected three discs. Lacing his intended aim with the Force, he directed them towards the half-Ryn — only for the projectiles to crash a meter to her left. The missed attack gave Zujenia time to untie the bo-rifle that had been strapped tightly to her torso. Magik mentally noted to practice more with his odd weapon.

"Zuj, if you do climb up from there your going to end up Tsw'ell food down there," Magik tried to calm her as he stood on higher ground. The Lanvarok disc Magik fired from his wrist were well off. He quietly took a mental note to practice more with the Lanvarok. At this point his accomplice was on the other end of an assault. They were stranded together here on Luprora with only one another. The circumstances were not the most pleasing. As they had crash landed only to sink the Star Cruiser in the seas of Luprora. Not to mention comlinks were soaked and were now malfunctioning all together. There was now no other way out. This is what their mission had come to.

As Zujenia gripped the bo-rifle from her waist she began firing off rounds in Magik's direction. As the rifle rounds went wizzing past his shoulders he managed to duck away from the shots. She had just aimed to high, maybe her aim was off because she was now standing on the ledge meters below him. Magik hated dancing to the sound of blaster bolts. As she was now out of rounds.

There was no escaping the mess they had been put into together. The mission was a complete failure as they were both now stranded here. Luprora had already gotten the best of them. They were now pitted against eachother.

"Zujenia, you are not safe down there the rising tides are coming," Magik was now worried about her safety down there. A part of him wanted to help here, but he knew otherwise as she had brought this upon herself. "Magik please help me here," she cried in pain. " No, sorry Zuj," Magik denied her as she continued to scream.

With the tides coming Magik wanted to finish her off. He then quietly loaded more discs into his Lanvarok. He wanted to be prepared for whatever may happen. He then took out his stiletto from behind his back pulling the bladed weapon out in a delicate manner. He then stood above her and jabbed at her in a downward motion with the stiletto gripped in both hands. He pierced her shoulder with the blade end as he thrusted at her. The casual attire would not conceal the wound and she was stunned for the moment.

Not giving the half-Ryn any time to recompose herself, Magik wrapped his arms about her waist and hoisted her up the ledge. She didn't fight him at first, her mind and left hand pressing upon the fresh wound, the stiletto still embedded. But that didn't last long.

Blood-soaked fingers ripped the blade free, her legs leveraging against his as her elbow drove into his cheekbone. Head reeling, Magik stumbled, nearly tipping them back down the outcrop. He tried to dodge the next blow, but it still clipped near his eye — sending a fresh wave of pain through his temple. With his grip weakened, Zujenia twisted around and pressed the stiletto against his throat. Her sandy tail lashed against his legs as her dark amber eyes burned.

“We are going up there,” the ex-Quaestor pointed with her right arm at a fairly sized, sheltered alcove a fair distance up the rocky slope. She winced at the pull on her wound, continuing. “And waiting out a rescue team — or so help me, Ashla and Bogan!”

“...If you wish.” The Sith narrowed his own brown eyes, his chin slightly slick from the blood on her hand. Zujenia certainly had skills in defensive melee, one ability checked off the list to report. Annoyance flared in him again. He really had preferred avoiding close combat. Magik quietly agreed with her plan, but he would not follow it at the point of a blade. Extending a mental probe with the Force to the white-haired woman, he caught glimpses of a small hybrid child and another Ryn whose visage looked akin to the Consul. The flooded emotion of weariness and fear led him to believe they were loved ones, a weakness…Magik tried fishing for names before a firm wall ushered him out of her mindscape.

“I am sure the Consul will quickly note your absence, Zujenia.” He nearly smiled at the tension that set in her being in response. “We’ll be back to our homes and comforts and the little one in no time.”

“Stay. Out of. My mind —”

Her growl was cut short as he stepped backwards, his torso moving parallel with her arm as his left hand wrapped about her wrist. Magik twisted the limb, pressing his free palm between her shoulders, forcing her forward. Pebbles clattered off the ledge, followed closely by the silver stiletto that slipped from her grip with a sharp gasp.

The Force lashed across his nerves to hop backwards, barely avoiding the halfling’s low kick. His heels teetered on the stone’s edge, the waves crashing a ways behind him. Magik chose to abandon his hold on her and darted further onto the ledge. Zujenia swiftly followed, throwing an aggressive series of punches and kicks, all targeting any vulnerable areas he’d left open. It was all he could manage but to redirect the blows. She was stronger than he thought.

Magik’s counters started to delay, exhaustion seeping into his muscles. Every exchange nearly resulted in Zujenia grappling him into a brutal, finishing blow. His chest rose with labored breath, the waterlogged armor not aiding in their spar.

Blasted woman!

The Sith pivoted to his left, intending to graze past his fellow Qel-Droman’s extended arm and knee her in the gut. His nerves twitched with forewarning a fraction too late, dropping a sense of regret. With unnatural speed, Zujenia spun, his blow bouncing off her hip, and struck him in the throat. Doubling over, gagging, Magik’s dark gaze briefly connecting with the partially gloved fist boring down upon his temple. And there was nothing...

Zujenia straightened up, shoulders heaving. Blood from her injury had coated her chest, thick and sticky and staining. She stumbled backwards until her heels touched a small edge of another ledge, letting her plop down haphazardly on the stone surface. Staring at her fellow comrade’s — if she could call him one still with what occured — unconscious body, the half-Ryn started ripping strips of fabric from her pants.

What was she going to do with him? There was still a distance to go up the slope in order to reach the shelter she spotted, no way she could hoist him there herself. She pressed the homemade gauze to her shoulder with a grimace and hiss. Vowing to bind his arms with her belt later, Zujenia settled down to staunch the bleeding, to prepare for his waking, and wait for a ship to come.

The blade from Magik's stiletto would not go unnoticed. Zujenia screamed in pain as the dagger pierced her shoulder blade just below her neck. Bleeding from the sharp stab wound her attire was now covered in blood. "Why did it have to come to this, Zujenia," Magik shouted at her. He was so frustrated from being stranded on Luprora losing his ship to the seas. Zujenia could not come to words as she was now standing on a cliffside ledge just above the seas. Magik stood on higher ground just above her as she could not climb back up from the ledge she was standing on.

Zujenia stood there on the ledge of obsidian rock. Magik knew better than to stand near the shoreline as the tides were rising. In anger Magik only hoped she would bleed to death as he wouldn't help her climb up from the ledge.

The ocean swirled with the tide as it battered the walls of obsidian rock just below Zujenia. Giant tentacles were portruding from the surface of the seas. The Tsw'ells awoke from their sleep as the high tide had come in. The giant sea monsters feed along the shorline dragging prey deep below the surface of the seas.

They must have smelled the blood from Zujenia as the were now just below the ledge she was standing on. "Magik please help me," she cried in agony as Magik just watched from a distance. There was nothing more he could do to help the situation. She was now a sacrafice for the Tsw'ells.

As Magik watched in delight as several tentacle extended from the seas to the ledge where she was standing. As the tentacles moved around her trying to pull her in she battled the monster all she could. She cried and screamed, "Magik, please," but he did not lift a hand. The tentacles latched onto her legs and arms wrapping around her body. The monster dragged her from the ledge pulling her into the seas. She tried to fight the monster before being taken away. Zujenia had been eaten alive by the Tsw'ells!