Borleias

[Raven Nasra]

Not even ten minutes had passed before the Dathomiri SIth got her response. In a communication broken by lines of static from multiple encryptions and decryptions, the small form of the Empress Raven gave her response. 

 

Yes

 

_______

 

A day passed in silence as the citizens of the neutral world took in and housed the captives. Giving them medical aid until on the edges of the system a black painted Star Destroyer named Misericordia slipped from the grip of hyperspace. A shuttle dropped from her bay and microjumped so that it reached the edges of the Sith Fleet. 

 

Raven and two Imperial Knights were the only passengers, armed only with their lightsabers and the force. It had been against the will of the rest of the Rebel leadership, but Raven was here. And she would dialogue with the Sith, though she knew it would already be fruitless. 

 

The Shuttle set down in the landing bay of the Herløv and Raven and her two guards descended the ramp. Raven dressed purely in black, with the long bands of service ribbons across her left breast. The small circlet of silver resting gently upon her head the only adornment save her lightsaber. 

[Raven Nasra]

The very air within the Herløv was pungent with the dark side. Was it terror she smelled from that royal guard or hatred? She could not tell, for it had been nearly a decade since she had trained in the arts and mysteries of the Sith. She could still tap into that place, that hatred, that fear should she need to but the very thought of it turned up her nose. She was no longer a scared little girls seeking power from disgraced Dathomiri witches like Lady Tiana Calthye. She reflected on that experience as she waited for the Sith Lord Darksong to join her in the hanger. That terror, the loss of her arm, the taste of the Jedi Knights blood as she had bitten out his throat on Gala. Raven was glad that she had kept the black lightsaber on her belt, even for all the sin it had caused, but knew if it came to a duel she would surely be bested. 

 

She had much to atone for. With that pang of regret, the Imperial Knight beside her stepped up to her side and placed his heavy hand on her thin shoulder. 

 

“Empress.” He whispered. She nodded and that was enough to find her center. She breathed once, twice and focused her mind. Drawing on the strength of the men and women around her until the regret, the sorrow, the pain was gone. Leaving her face stern and ashen. She was glad of it, for in that moment the Lady of the Sith arrived, beautiful and full where Raven herself was lacking. This was a woman ruled by her passions, abjectly surrendered to them, and full of a hidden malice. They were not very far apart in age, but the woman had lived a much fuller existence. And the pride in her steps showed it. 

If there was death to be found in this vessel, it would be by her hands that Raven would find it. 

 

The Pretender to the crown of the Galaxy returned the Sith’s modest head bow. 

 

“Lady Darksong.” She used the vernacular drilled into her by her old master and the imperial cadet corps while they had still served under Emperor Black. She fell in beside the Lady of the Sith and walked with her to the communications room. Where her two imperial knights stood back. While they waited on the dark lord, Raven looked back at the Dathomiri Sith. 

 

“Have you served Him long?”

[Raven Nasra]

Raven’s eyebrows spiked upwards as the holograph materialized. He looked impressive to be sure, but anyone who hid behind a mask had something to hide. She shrugged and looked from Qaela and back to the holograph. 

 

“Yes it does begin. That’s why I am here after all.” She smiled softly and placed her gloved hands on her hips. Showing no intimidation from the holographic dark lord that stood some quadrillion miles away. “I must Congratulate you on toppling the useless Galactic Alliance. Slightly larger kill count than I would have had by quite the magnitude, but then again i'm not quite one to rule by fear. All it cost you was a Sith Lord named Faust and a couple trillion innocent lives snuffed out with a moon of all things, really puts the charm into ruling with fear.” 

 

She lowered her head. “But there are those of us that contend against you and your new empire, so I must ask what your purpose is for this conversation?” 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven kept her face stoic as the Sith Emperor spoke. He was very wrong and very persistent in his lies but to correct them here was not the place or time. She stood up completely straight. Her amethyst eyes staring into the cloud that was Exodus’ face. 

 

“Lord Sith, we do not represent the senate, or the Supreme chancellor. That weakness has been washed away by the terror and death you so wantonly let loose on the galaxy. We represent the hope that lives in the face of tyranny. We stopped Mandalore over Chandrila, we destroyed Black Sun and their forces as you rushed to save them. We killed the dog in spite of its master’s fury. Our strength may not be in power of arms, or a million warships. It is in hope and the careful strike. It is in this strength we will persist. Hope will outlast you.”  

 

“I think we understand each other. You lead those that butchered thousands of Prisoners of War at Onderon, and I lead those that will oppose you. Many of us will die, but we will overthrow you in time, and your stain will be wiped away like so many other God Emperors. Of whom no one now remembers their names.”

 

Her knights inclined their heads and prepared to move against any strike that would come from the Dathomiri or the apprentice. 

[Raven Nasra]

 

She shook her head slowly, her black locks of hair pulled back behind her cap, brushing the edges of her crisp uniform. Her Imperial Knights glowered at the image of the Dark Lord. 

 

“I have no reason to go to coruscant and give death to all that follow me. We cannot pretend to trust a terrorist and ally of the Black Sun in such a manner. No you will not have me, for I cannot trust you.” 

 

She smiled sadly, as she took another breath, her hands clasped behind her back. Her shoulders straight, exemplifying her militaristic background as best she could. 

 

“I trust that out of your magnanimous good will that you have promised to the galaxy, you will also show to those that you have captured and your now erstwhile allies. You claim to be good, and we’ve seen a glimpse of it with this thousand, so I will trade the lives of those Black Sun we captured for the lives of the Kuati and other prisoners you may have.” 

 

[Raven Nasra]

Cowards

 

Raven inhaled slowly as the Lord of the Sith finished his final words, tapping into that power that she so despised. Kirlocca had helped, helped focus that rage that always battled inside her skull. Helped turn it to something calm, but in tapping it she could feel the pain that the force had brought her over her relatively short lifetime. That point of rage that had snapped in the deep mines of Zinthos, that had brought so much blood on her hands that they never felt clean. 

 

That rage that had led her to kill a Jedi knight on Gala just to prove that she could, while the Trinity slaughter hundreds. The rejection that shattered her arm into dust when she had been expelled by her old master. The pain of the robotic arm attachment before the quick boot camp, the rage at seeing the Rebels carrying the day over the last Death Star. Her seething hatred at the Galactic Alliance and its weakness. With one breath she let those emotions cascade through her and be shunted away. 

 

One breath.

 

The hot air wisped out of her mouth as her lightsabre sprang to life in her hand. The deep red blade that had carved the life out of a Jedi a decade before. It carried her regret, and it carried her will to destroy everything the Sith stood for. 

 

She let herself move along with the Dathomiri Sith, fading back towards the doorway where she could feel the evil presence of more men outside. She lept high as the door opened. Blaster bolts passed beneath her as her blade come up towards the door panel. It was simple, if they did not isolate this room, they would die a lot quicker. The two Imperial Knights followed her lead, and as one the Empress and her Knights closed the room off from reinforcements.

 

Knight Ismael and Knight Cassandra worked well together, they had since Carida. While Ismael harried the pursuing Sith with a wave of the force, Cassandra followed what the Empress did. The actuators inside the doors were hydraulically motivated, and like on most Star Destroyers, upon loss of hydraulic pressure the blast doors closed. With a spin, and a slash of a well aimed sabre. One pearl white, and the other a vitriol crimson, two control panels were blown apart. Slamming the doors closed in the faces of the Sith Troopers. It was a delay, It was no permanent solution, but it would hold for the several minutes it would take to kill the Sith Lord and her Cadre. And if they didn't make it that far? At least it was a valiant effort. 

 

One slash, then Raven was back and facing the Dathomiri. Their red blades crossed for a moment before Raven inhaled again, summoning the force to her will. It was no longer time to give ground. She pushed off into a rabid counter attack, her blade whirling in front of her. Tiana had been fond of such attacks, and Raven would show that Sith fighting style to the Sith. Aggressive blow after blow as she strove to turn the Sith lord towards the centre of the room as she let the force guide her strokes. She let the Force build in her presence, that still calm before the storm as the two Imperial Knights began to advance on their enemies as well. 

 

((1))

 

The shuttle crew prepared themselves for death and fragged their navicomputer. While the Imperial Star Destroyer collected the thousands of freed prisoners and dashed back to Nar Shaddaa. 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven kept her breathing steady, her deep purple eyes reflecting the red of her sabre as she spin it before her face to swipe away another attack. It was frustrating, she was very much out of her element, and though she had done a lot to keep up her abilities, she was still taxed to her absolute limit keeping the Sith Lord at bay. If only she had accepted the Jedi’s offer of help and training. She kept her cool, letting the emotions fall from her mind, as she drew upon the force to give her help. 

 

The next blow from the Sith lord had a great deal more power behind it and Raven grimaced with the effort to parry the blow. The trick of sword fighting was always to let the opponent waste their energy in rushing blows, and Raven kept with the tactic. Letting the blow glide off her blade with a steep angle. The Sith gestured towards the door at Raven’s back and with an audible crunch, and Raven could feel the anticipatory danger at her back. Tiana had been fond of such tricks, though they had usually been swathes of knives, or dozens of unseeable needles. Raven grunted and let her right leg bend, then push her off to the side. Letting the heavy doors cascade across the floor where she had just been. 

 

The momentary respite from the swordplay allowed Raven time to tap into the force to rejuvenate her strength, and so, taking a high guard, Raven dashed in again. Raining three blows towards Qaela’a upper body, and transitioning into a feinting lunge. Before turning it into a rising attack. She whistled and Knight Cassandra engaged the new troops approaching from the door. Aiming at them with a blast of force energy while Raven summoned the force herself. She had no particular talent in the telekinesis that the Sith used, so she would be giving her all with the lightsabre. Perhaps, if she was lucky, and fast enough, her blade would find a vulnerable area to bite into.  With her blows, she attempted to push the Sith woman onto the fighting Imperial knights. 

 

((2))

[Raven Nasra]

Breathe

 

Raven sucked in another lungful of air as she felt her blade nick on the Dathomiri’s leather armour. She could feel the thrill of the blow, even though it did scant damage, the small victory brought her a spike of joy. Feeling that joy she focused on it, letting it fill her mind, no matter how temporary it was. Kirlocca had taught her that much. A crooked smile hooked on the corner of her mouth. She twisted the sabre away to deflect the counter strike from the Dathomiri, and again concentrated on the build. She was ebbing bits of it off slowly into her movements, while building the majority of her strength for whatever finale there would be. She willed her arms and legs to go faster as they fought the battle, her purple eyes staring into Qaela’s and Raven was almost shocked by their sudden change from violet to the twisted red gold. 

Wickedness

 

Though it had been almost a decade since Raven had seen those eyes in person, they bid a familiar tale. One that foretold a swift end to the duel of their red sabres. It was spelled out clearly enough, the woman was engulfing herself in the force for some fatal blow. Bowing to the wickedness in her heart. Evil was building into a storm. 

 

Raven let her dim smile grow full, her eyes remaining their deep shade of purple as she began to draw fully on the joy and love she had felt in her life. Sparse as they may have been, she fed those memories into her mind. The faint sense of danger was growing to its full tide as the storm built inside the Dathomiri. A blaster bolt burned right by her head, but Raven stood fast, concentrating on the fullest danger. A storm was brewing, inside the conference room. There was only one chance really against a storm of wind and death. Raven couldn’t simply conjure a shield, she had no such talent. She would have to make whatever blow the Nightsister tried to give her a glancing and temporary one. Raven concentrated her everything on what came next. 

 

The wicked smile. 

 

Raven pulled her sabre back beside her, her human arm crooked and ready to jab the blade forward and bent her knees. Her fine tuned robotic arm holding the saber from across her body. Qaela leapt and a half second later Raven launched herself after her. She watched the arc of her jump, seeing where she was likely to land and attempting to arrive at the same spot. Unlike the Dathomiri, she did not leap. She dashed. Every step amplified by the force. She pushed the force through her leg muscles, through the bones, through her feet, to the decking, forcing herself to be faster, forcing the dash across the two meters to be a solid one. Every step was an anchor that could not falter. Or they would all die on a Sith Star Destroyer, far from home and the ones they loved. 

 

The buffeting wind hit first, smacking at her back, then the fiery shrapnel that cut through the thin dress uniform tunic  and screeched across the metal of her arm. The fire stung, crisping at her uniform, lighting the threads of the red piping at her shoulder. Igniting a small patch of the uniform at her back. But though painful, the pain could wait, it was only six feet. Only three steps in the course of maybe a second. A three step sprint beside the flaming holo projector. If Raven had to endure ten or more seconds of such a gale it would have been overwhelming. But she was a rock.  

 

She was the Pretender. One of the Leaders of the Rebel alliance. An Empress without a throne. 

 

And as the Nightsister landed, the Pretender lunged and pushed her blade forward.Pushing with her back foot and twisting her entire body behind the blow. Hips, shoulders, arms, empowered by the force in an impaling blow that should it connect, would cut the heart of the storm. 

 

((3))

((Really well fought Travis. A surprise but a real joy.)) 

 

[Raven Nasra]

Ismael let out a barking laugh as he let the Sith Apprentice’s unconscious body collapse to the steel decking. He shook his head and beckoned to Cassandra, then his cold grey eyes fell on the Sith Master. They maintained their cool expression until the emperor of the Sith had finished his overlong monologue. 

 

“There is no crown to take, for royalty does not work like attaining rank in the musted pits of Korriban I think. Your emperor sure delights in filling the galaxy with hot air does he not?” He laughed again, a tune of joy on his words. “This rebellion will bring that emperor low, they always do.” He kept his sabre on, but at a low guard. 

 

He bowed formally, thanking her for the fight and pleasure of the slaughter of her Lords. 

 

“Now may I have our empress?” 

 

The young Rebel Alliance leader meanwhile coughed and sputtered into wakefulness below the blade of the Nightsister. Raven grinned a sloppy grin and nodded her head, wincing at the pain from the blow. There was no need for her to be rude to the woman who had bested her after all. 

 

“You fought amazingly Lord Sith. It was a pleasure to flex those muscles again.” She struggled to get up, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the decking. “I say we must arrange another duel when I am more prepared.” It was strange, she had thought to wake up in a clone tank on Nar Shaddaa or in another torture pit instead of like this. 

[Raven Nasra]

Raven nodded politely, waving a cut, gloved hand to dismiss the acquisition of her old lightsabre. Its long silver handle was marked by years of use, though it had been lovingly cared for over the decade and a half she had had the device. She had lost the fight and like their lives themselves, it had all been a risk that they could have lost. Still they had learned much at the hands of the Sith, and for that Raven was at least grateful. 

 

She bowed to the Sith Master Qaela as did her Imperial Knights. 

 

“Until we meet again Lady of the Sith.” 

 

For Ismael the departure was different. He looked upon the smoking bodies of the Sith lords and apprentices and a flicker of sadness passed over his tanned face. 

 

“I will pray for their souls.” He looked the Lady of the Sith in her purple eyes and inclined his head, tapping his pauldron. “And for yours as well lady.” 

 

And so the Rebel Alliance departed the Sith star destroyer, in an escape pod that was slight and cramped. But they were alive.