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Star Wars: A New Dawn (TheCorsair, Xanaphia)

OP
TheCorsair

TheCorsair

Pulsar
Joined
Dec 17, 2013
“Actually, I’m pretty sure it could hurt,” Luke said. But he still reached out and took her hand. Took both hands, gently reaching out with the Force to lift the holocron into the air. It floated between them, slowly rotating. He studied it, and felt it studying him in return - a cool, dark presence with the patience of death itself.

The touch of it on his thoughts was exhilarating, like cold water on a hot day.

“There will be a guardian,” he said, unsure if he was speaking aloud or through the Force. “One that must be persuaded or compelled to reveal the secrets within. And they do not submit easily. Are you ready?”

At her response he opened his mind, linking his power to hers. Braiding their power together. Waves of chill power radiated from the holocron as they touched it with their minds. And then a ghostly figure of a woman formed above the holocron, rotating slowly to take them both in.

“A young Jedi, and a young Sith?” Her voice was sweet, and her smile pleasant. “How... remarkable.” She dropped into a small curtesy. “I am Darth Moressa, gate-keeper of the secrets of this holocron. How may I serve you?”
 

xanaphia

Belle of the Brawl
Joined
Sep 28, 2013
Mara bristled against the touch of the holochron on her mind. It stung and nipped, like the biting wind of Hoth on the day she nearly died. Luke’s presence provided a buffer, shielding her from the worst of it. And then their perceptions flowed together, opening to one another in a sublime intimacy. So much bigger than themselves, bigger even than the sum of their parts. Building upon each other’s skill, it expanded beyond either of their reaches, flooding their joint mind with intoxicating power.

Mara expected hostility from the holochron guardian, so polite curiosity caught her off guard. She was quiet for a time contemplating her options while the guardian sized them up. The ways of the Sith were deception and subtly, but she’d left that life behind. But Sith recognized and respected power, so she resolved to project power, with a simple, bold demand.

“We seek information about the Sith ritual of Gbigbemi ẹm,” she explained, speaking the word carefully to give it respect and deference.

“Ah yes, I do indeed possess what you seek.” The smile remained, seductive and proud. “And what do you offer in return?”

“What could you possible need?” Mara asked, seeking to strike a balance between assertive and civil.

“It is not a matter of need, for I need nothing. It is a matter of exchange. Knowledge like this cannot be given freely. So, what do you offer in return?”
 
OP
TheCorsair

TheCorsair

Pulsar
Joined
Dec 17, 2013
“What do we offer in return?”

Luke pondered the question. What would a holocron want? What could a holocron want? They were alive, in a way. Even the Jedi holocrons possesses a degree of sentience, an impression of the mind and essence of the Jedi that created it. And Sith holocrons has a stronger essence, because the maker would want to ensure that only the worthy could draw knowledge from it.

So. What would a Sith holocron want?

A grim smile twisted his lips, and he reached out to Mara in the Force. Follow my lead.

“We offer...” he began, slowly.

The shade of Darth Moressa looked at him curiously. “Yes? You offer...?”

Luke lashed out with the Force, shaping his fury and contempt for this thing that dared speak to him like an equal into a needle of dark rage. “Nothing! The Sith do not bargain! They take!
 

xanaphia

Belle of the Brawl
Joined
Sep 28, 2013
Adrenaline surged in Mara’ mind, echoing and reflecting Luke’s display of arrogance and power. His darkness tempted her, embraced her, welcomed her. It burned like a pleasant madness, barely controlled and utterly consuming.

Moressa wavered under his attack, but did not cower. “And you, young Jedi? Is that your way, as well?”

“Silence,” Mara snarled, lust drunk on Luke’s display of power, entwined with her own. Shadows shifted, answering to her in the force, and slithered over Darth Moressa’s figure. They pulled her arms taut, behind her and forced her to her knees. Finally, one looped over her mouth, stark against her pale skin, and rendered her silent.

Even like this, bound by their joint wills, Mara knew it wasn’t enough. Could see it wasn’t enough, from the defiance aglow in Moressa’s eyes. Defeat was not sufficient; only submission would be. Mara approached the spirit, slowly, almost as if bored, and trailing her fingers up along her throat to her cheek. More shadow crossed her body now, over her stomach and between her breasts, forming an intricate pattern that combined aesthetic grace with unrelenting efficacy.

“You will grant us access to the ritual,” Mara stated, holding Moressa’s chin in her hand. Without even giving her a chance to comply, Mara shocked Moressa with currents of electricity, running parallel to the shadow enveloping her. It wasn’t painful, not purely painful, but an agonizing mix of pain and pleasure, causing the shade to writhe and moan as the currents danced on her skin. “Once we are done with you.”
 
OP
TheCorsair

TheCorsair

Pulsar
Joined
Dec 17, 2013
“You... you dare...” the specter of Darth Moressa gasped, fighting to remain standing under Mara’s assault. She stumbled forward, some of the shadow and lightning flowing down her arm, braiding and cooking into a whip. “You will learn, Jedi, what it means...”

Luke’s hand darted out, catching the whip as he drew her hand back to strike. “Learn what?” he demanded, jerking Moressa’s arm back. “A lesson of power?”

Moressa started to turn and he turned with her. His arm moved, coiling the lash around her throat and pulling it tight. She struggled against the bite of the shadow and lightning in her skin as he dragged her against him. “She knows that lesson already, I think.”

His free hand slid over her shoulder and across one breast, and his blue eyes met Mara’s green gaze as he hooked his fingers in her gown. “But what of you?” he husked into Moressa’s ear. His arm jerked, dragging her gown down and baring her breasts. She struggled against him, uttering a choked cry of indignation as he pulled in the whip coiled around her throat.

“I think,” he growled, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breast, “that you need to learn obedience.” He pinched her nipple, icy lightning glaring around his fingers as he did. “We’re going to enjoy teaching you.”
 
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