Jen Jyzen City was beautiful; there was no way to deny that. Considering the general scenery of Utapau, that came as a surprise to Sera. She had been expecting arid, wind-blasted scrub and dank, cavernous sinkholes, hidden from the light. The reality was far different. Cut almost delicately from the rock of the planet’s crust, the city was vertically arranged in a network of sweeping terraces. As the buildings marched upward they eventually gave way to tunnels and caves cut into the crust, connecting into other sinkholes and subterranean arcologies. Verdant greenery crawled over the urban patchwork, fading into beds of prismatic lichen that lined the sheer rock faces. Looking up from the bottom provided a dizzying sight; one could see almost the whole of the city, gaunt, friendly Pau’an and squat Utai loping along the different levels, some of them scrabbling across the vertical walls atop their gangly varactyl.
It was a dazzling view. Almost enough to forget what exactly she’d come here for. Or, more accurately, whom.
”The Shadow Lady is not paying you to stand around and stare at the sun, girl,” called the voice from behind her, somehow silky smooth and grating at the same time. Sera did her best to refrain from a sigh. That would have only produced another scolding for her impudence. Instead, she strolled back to where her lanky VIP sat in the shade of the hangar, nodding in as professional of a manner as she could manage. All that produced was a slightly disgusted grunt.
Sera rolled her eyes, deliberately refusing to comment to, or even look at her charge. It took someone with a remarkably infectious choler to even begin to annoy the Zabrak; as a general rule, her friendliness and personal patience knew no bounds. The fact that she considered herself ‘friends’ with some of the most deadly, irritable, and uncompassionate Sith within Clan Arcona was just proof of this fact.
Still, it just couldn’t be helped. Although the Pau’an were generally regarded as amicable, open-handed, and kind, Naxa Helak proved the exception to the rule. At thirty, she had already begun to cultivate a reputation for a personal acidity that was almost as potent as her staggering intellect; the subsequent six-hundred years of her life had only served to distill those facets of her personality. As Master of Port Administration in Jen Jyzen for the last hundred years, she had enacted a virtual reign of terror, bullying weaker bureaucrats into submission and sticking her pointed fingers into just about every pot of political intrigue that there was to find planetside. In doing so, she ushered the city into something of a golden era. Crime had diminished to nothing, trade was flourishing, and the arts were thriving. Finally, content with her personal political dominion, or simply bored by her own success, Naxa retired, seeking greener pastures in which to spend the final seventy to eighty years of her considerable lifespan.
She carried many enemies along with her. So, naturally, Lucine had decided to recruit her, and sent Sera along as a personal contribution to her security. Just to sweeten the pot. Or, so she said. More likely, she was meant to act as a show of strength; a young, virile Zabrak, a master huntress, trained in the Force and heavily-armed to boot. The mottled-grey fabric of her combat suit was lined with daggers and keen throwing blades, shining in their sheaths along her belt. More than that, the sparkle of her expensive, hyperlethal vambraces was impossible to miss, as was the simple lightsaber that hung at her hip.
Naxa didn’t seem impressed in the slightest. If anything, Sera only seemed to rouse further disdain from the ashen-skinned woman, her lips curling back in disgust as she tailed along behind the Zabrak. They were tucked into an in-set public transportation bay, near the bottom of Jen Jyzen’s sinkhole. Though Sera had purchased a varactyl for her own personal transport, they were awaiting a much-cushier shuttle that was to bring them to the surface, where Naxa would board the Voidbringer for her trip to Selen. A simple, elegant plan. But, the Pau’an had insisted upon complications.
”Did you re-route to the transport service that I told you, girl? One of those dingy Char’killan shuttles simply wouldn’t do. Disgusting. All nerf-herders and blast-boys, those pilots.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sera responded dryly, fidgeting. That had cost them another hour of waiting in the hangar. The Pau’an didn’t seem to mind.
”Don’t ‘Yes ma’am’ me, girl, I can see what you’re thinking. I could swear I asked for a guard, not an impetuous, back-country whelp. Vasano must have heard me wrong, I suppose.”
Sera, this time, was unable to restrain a sigh. There were twenty minutes left to go before their ride arrived. Twenty interminable minutes.
A cold shiver travelled up her horns, and as Naxa tore back into her, Sera’s blue eyes narrowed. Somehow, she got the feeling that they would never make it aboard that shuttle.
Tahiri grinned, staring down at her quarry beneath her. It hadn’t been a particularly long hunt; her clan’s intelligence on her prey’s plans had been good, placing the Togruta huntress exactly in her path. The intel had been better, in fact, than the prey’s planning. According to her datapad, their shuttle should have arrived some forty minutes ago.
Tahiri didn’t mind. That had given her plenty of time to watch, to observe. Naxa would make for an unfortunately soft target, it seemed. Bent over her gnarled cane, the ancient Pau’an would hardly present much of a threat, and her security seemed markedly lax. No matter. What her new Clan wanted, Tahiri wanted as well. Clan Plagueis wouldn’t allow such a valuable asset to fall into Arcona’s hands. Perhaps receiving Naxa’s head in a nice, gift-wrapped box would remind the Shadowclan of their upstart nature. Perhaps.
Or, maybe, losing their little Zabrak would do the trick. Tahiri cocked her head, regarding the young woman with minor curiosity. Really, she seemed far more interesting than the target herself. Concentrating, the Togruta could feel her connection to the Force, probing at the very edges. Her impression was vague, indistinct, but she could sense a spirit there, a fiery determination. She, more than anything, would make this fight interesting.
Sulphur yellow eyes narrowing, the Sith decided that she had waited long enough. Standing, she ignited her bloody saber and unsheathed the vibrosword from her hip in unison, playing out her plan within her mind. She would pounce on the Zabrak first, see if she couldn’t cut the fight off before it even began. She almost hoped that the girl found a way out of it. Afterall, it would be a pathetic end to the hunt if there wasn’t at least a little struggle. Smiling coldy, the Togruta reached out for the Force, channeling it into her lithe musculature. Then, tensing, she leapt down, aiming to skewer the Zabrak with both blades as she landed.
Tahiri underestimated her, of course. She would get the fight that she was hoping for; enough to gorge her for a long while. In her excitement she had made one critical error, forgotten something key.
Zabraki made good huntresses too.
She felt the attack before it came. A jolt of energy shot through her, running along her flesh as if she’d been touched with a live wire. The world around her slowed, blurring, and a confident, familiar voice whispered in the back of her mind.
Up.
Without hesitating, Sera thrust her left vambrace upward, a glowing yellow shield expanding just in time. The crimson saber and blackened vibrosword struck it in unison, the latter weapon glancing off, the former shattering the energy-bound construct, which threw both blows away as it shorted out. Yelping in surprise, Sera twisted her core, throwing herself backwards before whatever had attacked her landed directly on her back.
There was a rough, metallic clang as her attacker’s boots met the aluminum flooring. As Sera scrambled to her feet, yanking her saber and a dagger from her belt, she took in the rest of the assassin: a Togruta, with a slight, highly agile build, clad in black from head to booted toe. She looked… good. Definitely not the sort of thought that should have run through Sera’s mind, but oh well.
Before the Zabrak was fully back on her feet, the other woman pressed in, attacking with her saber and blade in unison. Sera didn’t fall back to a defensive posture, as she probably should have done. Instead, she moved right up to meet her attack, golden saber hissing against crimson, Zabraki dagger deftly parrying the sword. Their first meeting was a whirlwind of blows as they both launched into the same aggressive attack patterns. Sera’s fluid attacks, darting in from the periphery, trying to press into the woman’s guard, were swept away by quick, reactive parrys, each turning into their own offensive slash. They were never enough to kill her. Lightning fast, whip-like strikes, they pushed the Zabrak onto her back-foot, pressing over and over again. These attacks drew first blood, as the vibrosword cut a nasty gash across Sera’s shoulder, and the Saber burnt into her thigh. The attacks weren’t lethal, but draining, designed to slow and cripple. The Togruta was trying to wear her quarry down.
Recognizing this, Sera changed up her tactics. She needed space. Time. Snarling, she twisted one of the Togruta’s attacks away and brought her left foot up, planting it in the woman’s chest and shoving her away. Immediately, she dashed back herself, breathing heavily.
The two watched each other for a moment. Screams were rising in the transport bay around them, which was quickly emptying of anyone with good sense, save for Naxa, who seemed shellshocked. After a few heartbeats, Sera broke into a toothy grin, her blue eyes shining.
“Uh… hello there, I guess. Hell of an Ancestor’s damned warm-up,” the Zabrak stated, her face open and friendly, even as she began to circle around her opponent, making sure to put herself between the Togruta and Naxa. The old Pau’an looked like she might have swallowed her own tongue. Really, that would have been a welcome change.
The assassin rolled her eyes, shifting her saber to an inverted grip. Peculiarly, her lips quirked up into a smirk that nearly looked friendly. She seemed to be enjoying this. “Yes… a good warm up. You’ve managed to make this hunt interesting, Miss…?”
“Kaern. Sera Kaern. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you greet everyone you meet like that?” Sera questioned, a small smile perking up on her face. With the hand in which she held her dagger, Sera undid the clasp of her armorweave cloak, letting it flit to the ground. Then, still keeping light and loose on her feet, she reached out with the Force, touching at the Togruta’s mind. There, she found… well, darkness, as expected, as well as a certain sort of curious interest.
“Well, not exactly. You seem to have handled it pretty well, considering,” the woman responded. Reaching for her own cloak, the Togruta threw the garment aside, exposing a lithe form that was lightly armored in an assassin’s garb. “Tahiri Morte,” she finally greeted, before slipping into the harsh syllables of the Zabraki tongue. ”It is an honor to meet a fellow huntress, Sera.”
The two smiled at each other for just a moment. From behind them, Naxa finally seemed to recover her voice, spluttering in outrage. ”W-Well, knight!? Kill this, this… this orange-skinned HUSSY! You aren’t being paid to chatter!”
Sera just sighed… and the Togruta gave a violent grin.
“Don’t worry, Naxa,” she crooned harshly. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Sera sensed the woman’s intent, felt the attack coming. Again, the voice came: catch.
Grimacing, she dropped her Zabraki dagger, and snapped her right hand out in front of her, a shiver running over her as she did. Her fingers closed on the throwing blade in mid-air… and then, she threw it right back, followed by two more of her own. Her opponent cut them from the air, shards clinking against the floor. Sera anticipated this. As the Togruta bore down on her, the Zabrak’s hand reached forward, sending out a probing, invisible grip. One by one, the smoking, red-hot shards left over from the sliced blades rose into the air.
Then, Sera jerked her hand back, and the glowing slivers shot towards Tahiri’s spine
The Sith seemed to feel them coming, twisting just a heartbeat too late. Three sank into her back, hissing sharply as they cut through flesh and burned through muscle. Shallow wounds, but painful and scarring, producing a ragged gasp from the Togruta. Even as the Zabrak winced at the unintended cruelty of the attack, Sera pressed her advantage, holding her focus on the Force to shove outward. Still shaken, Tahiri was unable to do a thing. The grip caught her tightly, and sent her flying backwards, lek over heels.
And, as dishonorable as it was, Sera ran, taking Naxa roughly by the wrist. As the Pau’an sputtered in protest, the Zabrak jerked her along behind her, running right for the transport bay’s lip. The cane, it seemed, was just for show, as the ancient woman managed an alright pace as she was half-pulled across the floor. Or, maybe it was just to whack people with.
Of course, their route seemed uncertain. They might have been near the bottom of the sinkhole, but there was still a good two hundred feet to the rocky floor. Jumping was suicide, something Naxa made very clear.
”W-what do you think you’re doing, you blithering little idiot? Are you trying to get us-”
“Shut up and trust me,” Sera interjected, stopping just at the ledge and leaning over. Forcing herself to focus, she reached out with her mind, finding a familiar presence.
A few moments later, a massive, scaled face appeared, staring back at her from below. Its dark, intelligent eyes seemed to be questioning her, a question which Sera answered with a nod and a peremptory mental-signal. Giving a shrill cry, the varactyl clambered up from where it had been hanging just under the lip of the hangar bay, cocking its massive head at the two of them. Then, turning, it presented its flank, upon which an enormous saddle had been slung.
Naxa spluttered. Sera grinned.
As they mounted the creature, Tahiri snarled, ignoring the biting pain of her wounds. The Force filling her, swelling her musculature with strength, the Togruta took off, sprinting for the lip of the hangar. Sera saw her, turning at the last moment. Tahiri could see her, taunting with that smile, shooting a wink at her. Then, they were off, their mount scrambling up the sheer face of the terrace.
No matter. Crying out in her anger, the assassin threw herself over the lip of the hangar, into the abyss…only to twist around, clinging to the saddle of her own, waiting varactyl. A good huntress always came prepared for a chase, of course.
The Togruta grinned. Then, silently willing the reptavian forward, she got the hunt started in earnest.
