Star Wars: A Sith's Hunt (Ruphhausin x Naomi David)

"I am very disappointed that I have to repeat myself. Let us go over this again. I am looking for Vasilisa Henwick... where is she, as I know she has been here."

Despite the calm in his voice, Darth Garist was steadily getting more angry. The Corellian Sith Lord and former Jedi was losing his patience in his hut for the Mandalorian beauty. One didn't deny the most dangerous Sith in the Galaxy his prey, especially one that he intended to possess on every level.

At a little shy of 82 kilos and a little over 1.8 meters tall, he had the dark brown hair, sun kissed skin, and intense green eyes of many of his homeworld even for a Sith. With a deceptive lithely muscular build and the primal feline personality traits that a Force user of his culture usually gained, he also had the agility, grace, reflexes, and senses of the many cats he had studied in his quest to be a better Sith. Now, he was hunting for more primal and physical pleasures.. hence why he was pursuing the bounty on Vasilsa.. as the bounty only was needing recorded proof from the 26 year old Sith to be collected.

She was close to his height and at the perfect weight, with deliciously tanned skin, blonde hair, baby blue eyes, a lean muscular build.. Force Sensitive.. and he sensed untapped raw sexuality that needed to be roughly and thoroughly brought out.

He currently had the bar owner in a Force grip, waiting for an answer. Finally, the man's sister broke.

"Alright.. let Leci go! Please.. have mercy!!!"

Garist loosened the grip just enough, the gasping for air now productive but he still held her brother up with the Force. The sister, whose name was Whren, told him what he wanted to hear, and he headed up from the bar toward the overnight rooms and the small speeder pad that was on the roof. He was dressed in dark blues and greens, the traditional black and red of the Sith so.. funereal in nature to him. His bodysuit with boots, compact utility belt, pair of lightsabers (one dark blues the other greems), as well as the cloak that he could get away with discarding if he chose, added to the air of a man who would not be denied what he wanted by anyone.. not even his prey herself.

Vasilisa was the wiliest bounty hunter the Mandalorian people had. Some who remembered who Jango Fett was whispered that she was his second coming, Jango reborn even, because of her unnatural skill she possessed. Younger bounty hunters came to her for help when they needed her to help them on a job. She would happily do so, provided she got a cut of the profits. She was more than happy to teach the young ones, Mandalorian or not, the tricks of the bounty hunting trade. What made her the best? What made her so superior in every way? She was strong in the Force. The Force was her ally as she worked, she used it to aid her when she hunted for her prey. She wielded the Force like she wielded one of her beskar swords, she wielded the Force like the weapon it was to her. She knew the Jedi abilities, but her true specialties in the Force were combat related. Like a true Mandalorian, she was never without a weapon. Even when she didn't have a physical weapon, the Force was still there, waiting for her to use it.

Earlier in the day she had been at the bar that Darth Garist was now terrorizing. She drank like a fiend, got into a few fights, paid her tab, and left a very healthy tip for the bar tenders. The clan Henwick was the wealthiest clan on Mandalore, coming from old money and new. Wealth came from good investing, war, and bounty hunting. Interest rates were generous, which more than tripled the family wealth over several generations. Right now, she was eating like a fiend at a local restaurant. The servers were thrilled, they knew they were going to get a great tip. She had paid for her meals in advance, and paid the tips already. She was good to those in the service industry, she respected the crap they went through to make a living. Above all, her people respected hard workers.

Garist was soon on his speeder bike, specially outfitted for his protection. He had discovered, from torturing other Mandalorians, the secrets of their metallurgical techniques, and he used them for some things. He also knew how to marry everything he knew with the most important Jedi and Sith skills, especially Sith Alchemy, for making what he really wanted to have. He now was pushing the bike to full speed, wearing a helmet on his head that had a full face component so that he could be really shielded from most attacks. His bodysuit, a creation of his own design, had everything he needed for the rest of his body mostly, the boots, gloves, and "padded" sections all seamless to the naked eye. He knew exactly where his prey was, and he would soon have Vasilisa even if he had to fight her.

Part of him yearned for the challenge, hoping that the fight would be precisely what he wanted. He saw it as potentially a violent form of foreplay, intending to use it to fuel his desire for the beautiful bounty hunter's body and soul all the more. That was a must, to defeat her on the deep levels that would subdue her the most. He drew closer, the bike's remote controls hidden in the micro circuitry of one section of the belt and the command for it to move out of the way when he wanted it to there for when he needed to vacate the bike. He smiled, the sensors telling him how close to his destination he was and he braced himself for when he would need to spring forward to the attack.

Vasilisa was in a good mood. She was drinking and eating, amazing the patrons and servers of the restaurant alike. He was rather close to her location. She was in no mood to fight, rather, her sole mood was to continue eating and drinking. A sensor on her wrist began beeping, which soured her mood, for it interrupted her meal. She raised her eyebrows. So he was here. Garist had decided to make his appearance. She was in a good enough mood, she might even invite him to eat and drink with her, she was really in no mood for fighting. Maybe fight later, burn all the calories and crap off, but still, she wanted to have a rather chill rest of the day. The staff was actually hoping somebody would be foolish enough to challenge her, the resulting fights that were taken outside were always incredible entertainment and brought much business to the establishment. Business was always up once word got out that Vasilisa was on planet.

Garist found a spot for his bike, activating the security measures and slowly walking toward the entrance to the building. He was calm and had centered himself, though still a coiled spring ready to move. He walked with quiet purpose to the door, two rough and readies thinking to move closer but a couple of sparks sent them scurrying away. He smelled the aromas coming from the restaurant part of the building, which was behind the door he was soon walking through. He moved through the archway and could see the people in the room giving him a few looks. It was something he was used to, but didn't at all much care about. He was well aware he was underestimated, because he didn't look like Vader. He smirked as he had already taken off his helmet, as it folded up and was now in a compartment on the upper back of his suit as he moved closer to her.

She had words wit the servers, to warn them that a special someone was coming for her. She had given them a pretty good description of him to them, so when he came through the archway, the servers began to direct him to her table. They were excited. Had the rough and tumble fighter finally found somebody she wanted to spend the rest of her fighting life with? Would he sit down and eat with her? More food meant more money being spent, and that meant big fat tips. There was an empty chair, it was pulled out, Vasilisa was sitting in the other chair, still feeding her face and drinking. One would think that she'd be bad in a fight when drunk, but that was most certainly not the case. If anything, she was an even more dangerous fighter when plastered. A glass of Corellian red wine and an empty plate would be waiting for him on his end of the table.

He could tell one thing, and that was that she was as careful as he would be. The table was in perfect position for them both for "broader field of vision and clearer field of fire". He had very much suspected that was how forward in thought she was, and now he could see she actually wanted to dine, perhaps a symbolic "last meal before the battle". He was amused, moving slowly with purpose toward the table. He was very pleased at the sight of the Corellian red, but if she was hoping to get him drunk she would be disappointed. However, it would go with many dishes on the menu, he was certain, and he slowly took his seat and smiled. He already was a fifth of the way toward his goal.

She had her helmet off obviously, and she was slowly sipping a drink from her homeworld, tihaar. Very strong stuff, hence why she had it in a very wee glass. There was a small menu beside the empty plate. She slowly spoke, no hint of drunkenness in her voice,"I trust you tortured some poor bastard to give up my location? I'd be surprised if you were nice and said please to get it." She continued eating. She had a stack of empty dishes beside her. She was currently working on a meat and potatoes dish, which she was very much so enjoying. She spoke,"But still, drink and eat. This is one of the best and most exclusive restaurants on the planet." Still, if he tried any funny business, she had all of her weapons on her, just hidden.

He slowly sat down, having been informed of the restaurant's reputation before. He tasted the wine, pleased and then answered her question.

"My dear, Sith do not need to ask or say please. One only needs to apply the right amount of duress and squeeze. As for food, there is always time to be civilized."

His tone denoted that he was well aware of the fact she was very well armed, but he also didn't think she would be too forgetful of him either. When the waiter came, he ordered at least two plates for himself, including an appetizer selection. He could get by on a little less food than she ate, as he had eaten on the way to where he found her location, but he wasn't going to be rude.

"Finding you was not as difficult as I thought it would be, nor is it a displeasure to find you in this situation."

She was glad he liked the wine. She chose the Corellian Red just for him, since she knew his home planet was Corellia. She respected enemies who were powerful warriors like herself. Her crush gauntlets were off her hands, as to avoid damaging the silverware and other dishes. They were on her right side. Her hands were rough and calloused. She very infrequently had time to moisturize and treat herself. She was in very bad need of a spa day. Still, to somebody like him, she was a diamond in the rough. A very big diamond in the rough. She softly spoke, a look of sheer mischief on her face,"Listen to what the servers are saying. They think you are a suitor." She laid a finger on one of his hands, and he could hear all that she could hear, which were the gossiping wait staff. Many were placing bets on a marriage proposal.

"They see a lot, the staff here. You are a very worthy female, and I am the most obvious choice to suit you in all senses of the term."

He sipped the wine, the waiter bringing a carafe of it as well as water, and the appetizer sampling he asked for. He ate slowly, not at all seeing the need to seem nor feel rushed. He was very calm now, his internal meditations a marriage of Jedi, Sith, and Force User methods from other peoples. He smiled at her, letting her know a few things about him.

"The rumors that I have had to torture everyone I have sought information from are greatly exaggerated. Many times, some are more than willing to share, though I understand the need to be possessive of some kinds of information.. of things.. of people. I mean, I am very possessive of time with you.. as you are a very worthy prize, Vasilisa.. and not just for your skills and/or reputation."

Her pale eyebrows raised when he worded himself as the only suitable suitor. To be fair, he was, as when she married, if at all, she wanted a Force Sensitive male to be the Father, that way to create a dynasty of Force Sensitive children. She kept on eating, his words were greatly displeasing her, to say the least. When her voice was quiet, that was when she was at her angriest. But she didn't even look angry, she was steely calm. So she spoke,"Is that all you see me as? A prize to be won?" She clearly did not appreciate being seen the way he was seeing her as. Just a mere prize to be won. How she badly wanted to stab her knives through his hands. But she had an agreement with the restaurant owners to not wreck the place.

"One has to prove that one is a worth suitor. Prize is more vernacular, seeing as there is a bounty on your own head."

He had wondered up till that point if she knew that was the case, but as he ate and sipped the wine, he continued. He was well aware she was upset, as he could see thanks to the Force that she was, and his tone was an appreciation and approval of her self control.

"I would think you would rather I rather than a totally inferior trog stumbles into being clueless in his 'luck' and collecting. One really could see it as I am actually saving you from your inferiors. I wouldn't say I am superior, rather the best candidate."

She listened to his smooth words, and really, his voice was smooth, it was soothing, which made him all the more dangerous. When she spoke again, her voice was silk,"I think... I think that I would rather choose my suitor rather than have a supposedly best candidate presented to me on a silver platter. For all you know, there may yet be a far superior candidate to you. He may be Force Sensitive, he may not be." She summoned one of the wait staff, gave enough credits to cover his meal and a hefty tip. She finished her food and liquor, and she spoke,"Nice talk. Bugger off. If you're so interested in me, be a real man and propose." She put her helmet back on, and put her crush gauntlets back on, and left the restaurant. Personally, she was hoping that he would propose.... Just so she could humiliate him by telling him no.

He was very pleased, as she was going to make it a fight.he only waited till she got to the door of the restaurant, then used the Force to push her out in to the street. He then walked calmly after her, seething just a bit at her attempted insult. He was not at all deceived in how it would go, and now she was going to see just a bit of what he could do. It was time that she learned Mandalorian iron didn't precisely give her the level of advantage that she thought it did. He had yet to get his sabers ignited, but then he had specially tooled them for things like this.. and opponents like her. He was soon out in the street, ready as he could feel her whether he saw her yet or not.

She felt the push in the Force, she felt no hands, but she felt the Force. But she was graceful, and partially a show woman. She turned the push into a somersault. It looked odd, armored and weaponed as she was, but she pulled it off. Now she was really riled, and she had one of her swords out. It was a beautiful thing, it looked like a sword of old with a cross-guard hilt. Double edged blade too. Oh, it was so gorgeous to her, and what made her so adoring of it was that she made this sword and its twin with her own hands.

Darth Garist, now standing out in the street just about half a meter from the door watched his adversary, the now much talked about Vasilisa Henwick. His own clothing was a marvel of Sith technology and alchemy, and he had yet to draw either his lightsabers or any of the other Sith weapons on his person. Instead he let her own anger work against her. One of the things that he kept from his time as a Jedi was he allowed the other person to get angry first. Mistakes always came from poorly channeled anger, but he had time to focus his own. His pursuit of her brought him halfway across the Galaxy, and his greatest asset was time. He had half his mask on, the lower half of the helmet also their protecting his neck and very upper shoulders more.

She knew he was near, the bastard had to be. She was well armored and well armed, or so she thought. She was seething, nobody teased her with a push like that. It was like poking a sleeping Krayt dragon in the eye. Bad idea. She didn't wear her helmet for hiding her identity, she wore it because it was good head protection. She was doing her best to calm down, knowing she couldn't use her special techniques to their fullest if she was enraged. She was calming down more now, wanting to win this. Success was important to her, and she took specific hand positions with her sword. She held it in the position of Djem So, one of the more aggressive forms of lightsaber combat.

He felt her grow calmer, but that wouldn't be helping her. One of the reasons that he was as feared as he was wasn't simply from being a Sith, but from him using an amalgamation of Shii-cho, Makashi, Soresu, Ataru, and Shien for defense, and Shien, Niman, and Juyo for offense with Juyo as his main. He didn't ever enter into a combat lightly, and he already sensed that she was holding a weapon.. one of her swords.

"Do you really wish to make this a battle, lovely one? I warn you.. I cannot help my reputation is based as much on fact as your own.. but you have never met one trained as I."

His hilts were close at hand, and he was ready if she attacked. She would find that Mandalorian metal wasn't going to be her salvation.

She didn't like this. She didn't like feeling as uneasy as she was feeling right now. She spoke,"I rose to be the best for a reason... Or do you wish to make this a battle of superiority? Who is the best fighter, the best user of the Force?" She was not going to attack first, she was smart enough to wait for him to make the first move. One could feel the sheer malevolence in the area. One of the restaurant patrons noticed the fight, and soon they were being watched by a crowd, foolish as the idea was.

"Superiority isn't just about how well you fight or use anything. I do think that you are being foolish to just respond with violence however."

He said that a bit condescending in tone, as he did hunt her. Perhaps he did expect he to be a bit more pliable, but he already could foresee the outcome of their battle. He closed his eyes, moving right to the best position for both attack and defense and saw right where she was standing. He already turned on his bike's computer with his control, now he was informing the computer of his ship to be ready. He decided that if she wanted him to attack first he would, but not the way she was expecting him to. He called first a discharge of Force lightening, then used Force speed and stealth to move.

She gave him an incredibly dirty look under her helmet. She was swift at dodging the Force Lightning. Her sudden movements were a shock to see, given how heavy her armor and weaponry was. If she was this fast with armor on, she was the wind without it. The liquor was affecting her judgement and she didn't even realise it. She rushed forwards to meet him, using the Force to aid her physical strength and speed.

He was ready for her, and rolled under and behind her. He struck first with a armored forearm then a kick, then his sabers were lit and in his hands. He had designed them with much larger power packs, anticipating her armor and weapons from what he was told. He may not cut her armor or sword, but there would be more damage than she was expecting. He also whirlwind moved around, lashing out and augmenting his speed and strength only a bit, using his agility and flexibility just as it was but it was enough. He struck for the gloves, intending to make those useless first.

She was not going to lose, she refused to allow herself to lose. She looked delighted to see that he had his sabers out. It had been some time that she had fought a fellow practitioner of Jar'Kai. While fighting two handed allowed for greater strength in strikes, fighting with two lightsabers allowed for a greater set of movements. She sashayed away from his forearm and kick, more interested in fighting his sabers. She snarled, he was right where she wanted him. She had gotten instruction from the Witches of Dathomir for this Force ability. The lot of them called it Spell of Storm, though its true name was Force Whirlwind. She intended to trap him in it and eliminate him while he was trapped in the maelstrom if she pulled it off.

He had seen many things from many Force Users, so her focus didn't at all surprise him. He could often notice what an opponent would try do do. He then broke off, leaping out of range in a blinding burst of speed and agility. He was out of sight, and he threw his voice so she wouldn't know where he was precisely. He wasn't taunting her, just letting her know how things were not going to be.

"The Witches are good teachers, but Whirlwind is not what one should rely on for victory. Remember, it isn't the biggest strike that always gets things done. By the way... you should have kept better guard of your gloves..."

He wanted her to know that they were damaged, and that she didn't pay attention. He had deprived her of one weapon already.