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[[I got hyped, what do you want? lol]]

Touch my armor, and I'll be sure to blow a round in your pretty little head. You're clan or the other Mandalorians will care.

There was a good chunk of his legs out to use. He gathered his strength and kicked her in the chest with his head moved to the side. It bought him time to reach for the small knife. It barely cut one cord, but it was enough to unravel. He stood up with the knife and tackled her to the floor with the knife to her neck.

What were you planning on doing? Looting my armor and leaving me naked? Well, I'd buy that, but, you're a little too rough for me.

[[I know you did. But the barrel is to my head, and, thats in kicking distance. I read these things over you know. Oh.. armor has some crotch gaurds rofl, but ok]]

OH by the force...

He fell to his knees and lost it. He couldn't think straight. Taking a mans weapon is one thing, but a kick below is another.

What is your DEAL?! You kicked my bits 'n' pieces dammit!

Slowly, he dropped his head to the floor in agony. There was nothing that hurt more than that.

This armor was handed down to me. I deserved it more than you do your title as a Mandalorian. You have no clue what it is to be a bounty hunter, rookie.

Carefully, he stood up and lifted his head back. He took a deep breath and faced her, shaking his head.

It was a losing battle for Crazy Train and his men. The police forces finally breached the hangar. In an attempt to make his last stand, the rebel leader quickly went for a crate that held multiple weapons. In the chaos of the fighting, one of the police force members managed to get by and charged for the man.

Crazy Train tried to swat the man away with the heavy repeater he took out, but the man had already grabbed onto him. Wrestling for the weapon, he slipped over guard railing on the small catwalk. The police force member was going over the rail on top of Crazy Train, both of them falling over the side. Their fight over the weapon caused it to fire a few bursts into the various containers below, most of which had explosives.

A very nasty chain reaction began as one of the explosives went off when a shot made impact. Soon the entire container went up, then the ones nearby, then nearl the entire side of the hangar. Suddenly grenades, mines, weapons, and various shrapnel went flying everywhere, and several of the rebels went into a panic. Some of them slipped out behind the police forces in the confusion and attempted to find any possible way out back through the main base, others darted out through the ' newly constructed ' surface access ramp made of half-collapsed ceiling.

She watched him limp out of sight, then twirled her pistols and holstered them.
She knew a whipped dog when she saw one.
He had lost to a real Mando. And the next time she saw him she would strip him of his armor.

With the dar'manda dealt with, Cene now could get about the buisness of leaving this world. She turned away and began to make her way back to her own ship, before the authorities caught wind of the blasterfight that had just occured.

After dozing off in his room for several hours, Calliga was awoken by a beep from the control console, and closer investigation revealed something entertaining: Siren had sent a message for him; regarding the fight against the rebellious citizens out at the rocky outcropping. A smile came to the sith's face as he read down the digital note: evidently, some of the rebels had gotten loose, and had some important data-but most of all, his favorite words where at the bottom.
Hunt and Destroy.
Swiftly donning his complete bone-armor and other components, calliga slid his lightsaber into place and brought up a map on the access pad; postponing his slaying spree long enough to load general data on wear to "hunt" into a datapad, and note the location of the rocks and cave.
Locking the door behind him, the sith vanished off down the hall, heading for the hoverbike hangar.
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Several rebels stumbled along a rocky plain in near-darkness, their path lit only by a single red-light glow lamp, and occasional blue flashes of lightning from the black mass of cloud overhead. Bulky blaster clanked as they walked wearily.
"we....we've gotta....get to the Junis Group. they wanted the boss' data, So if we give them what we.... got, maybe they let us in...."
A soldier panted in tired voice, holding a large but thin black rectangle of metal. Another member of the small group turned.
"yeah...whatever. Just hope these cops don't gets us before then..."
A third man piped up.
"It's strange....you guys notice? They stopped following us a hour ago. Just gave up..." The man said worriedly. One of his comrades gave a exhausted laugh.
"Of course! those fat, lazy cops aren't skilled enough to come out here, where their bikes can't go! We have better skills, that's why we survived...."
The leader suddenly interupted, calling back.
"Shut it, Ladies! Everybody quiet-!"
The group halted, weapons came up.
"what, what is it....boss...?"
The lead man looked about with some night vision googles.
"I thought I heard something....."
As if in reply, some gravel shifted in the boulder field nearby, rattling in the darkness. the leader turned towards it.
"You stay here. I'll check it out...."
He said, looking around.
Without another word, he walked off, stalking the source of the noise.
The men waited.
And waited.
"-Do you think we should-"
One man began to say, but suddenly a sharp "Crack!" cut him off, echoing in the distance.
Instantly, the group whirled, weapons up in shaky hands.
"What...was that?!"
Someone asked in dry voice.
"Cops...?"
"No...that was no blaster I know....."
"Then....who, or what...."
Their conversation was cut short again by another man, who took up the position of acting leader. "Shhh! Listen-!"
kkkcc.....crunch.....krkkk....
Footsteps echoed around them, seemingly from everywhere and nowhere; The result was panic and nerves spreading rapidly, and laser scopes waving all over the rocks.
"w-what is-?"
A wide eyed member began to ask, then screamed as a red blade whirled out of the dark and sliced him in half before going out and spinning off into the darkness again.
Chaos was instant, and scream erupted as pandemonium set in.
"-COPS!"
"Run, run-no, I-ARGGGHH!!"
"They got Zeyrus!"
"Move, move! This is some kind of animal, it's no cop-!!"
"RUN!!"
Blaster bolts scored the rock; a blue lightning flash revealed a dark, wild thing, shifting etherally about out in the gloom, darting from rock to rock.
The small group broke and ran at the sight, shooting wildly; trapped in the most terrible of all prisons: a wide open one. They had no comfort of protective, solid walls, nor bars, but miles of open, shadowed darkness from which this nameless terror could strike from.
A soldier screamed as either a claw or a giant silver of rock impaled him, and ripped him from his feet and dragged him into the black void.
Two men froze with fear, getting left behind and shooting wildly at the stones. The Last thing they ever saw was a dark figure leap up over their heads, set again a flash of lightning, and a bloody crimson beam of light rip into them.
Another member fell when a randomly fired shot inexplicably bounced back from the gloom and slew them.
And then there where three.
This pitiful remainder huddled together, back to back, in clearing between the rocks; weapons shaking as the hands that held them did.
At first, nothing.
And then lighting flared up again, and a instantly a figure materialized out of the stone, and was on them before they could scream.
One fell instantly, and the other two lost their blasters to a searing red beam.
on the ground and cornered, the dark figure lit in red regarded them with a hunger, enjoying the fear that oozed from them.
And at last, they understood.
At last, the word "sith" became clear to them.
Before they could stammer out a plea, A cruel hand ripped the helmets from them.
The dark nemesis spoke with slight suprise at one of them.
"You're a girl...!"
The female soldier in question was battered and beaten, but otherwise in possesion of a excellent physique. A subject who might easily be prized a siren, and a fitting punishment.
the other soldier got the red saber blade right between the eyes, and the spectral destroyer relieved him of the black metal case.
Then it looked at the female, who was paralyzed with terror.
"as for you...."
She gasped and began to choke as invisible hand closed on her neck; within a moment she blacked out.
Calliga looked at his own half-clenched hand, amused.
"Didn't think that'd work...."
He shrugged.
"Oh well. So much the better."
-----------------------------------
Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to bring two hover-sled attachments hooked to his bike, in case of finding someone who might be best alive; the female rebel being one such being.
After tying his new prisoner securely to a sled, and then stowing the data container, Calliga mounted the back and departed for the next location; where he might find the escapees with the other data container.
--------------------------------------------
Sometime after midnight Several more soldiers foraged ahead through a small cluster of trees and swampy area, a canyon in between two harsh peaks. This group was more alert, and had wisely found a area in the middle of the swamp to lay low in for several days, and where building a makeshift shelter from vegetation in the reddish glow of their portable light-orbs.
the had even established parameter patrol.
Calliga first encountered a soldier out gathering limbs for the mini-hideout, but rather than shear his target in half, Calliga remained hidden, both by means of the force and the concealing plantlife. Through this means, the man remained blissfully unaware of the sith warrior stalking him: Calliga's reasoning was the only thing keeping him breathing-once he returned to his fellows, he would no longer be needed....alive.
Lurking behind the man in the darkness of the woods, calliga noted the path the man used to cross the swampy section, and get to it's core.
Then the red lamps came into view, and calliga's expression became a predatory grin.
Excellent-for all their preparation, his prey had trapped themselves on a island
and built their own prison. Additionally, because he could now see guards and lights, his lead was no longer useful.
A red flare briefly caught a guard's eye, but as he turned to signal his comrades, a ominous tearing sound drew the attention of those at the new "base".
A massive, ancient tree crashed down and killed two of the guards instantly; and formed a bridge from the shore of the swampy soup to the firm ground of the island.
As the rebels on the island ran to investigate the screams and thunderous crash, a black shape dropped out off the folliage at the top of the tree, which had fallen near the pile of stones, mud, and branches that made a emerging crude shelter.
It wasn't until several screams and blaster bolt went off inside the structure that majority of the group turned back and rushed to their allies inside the shelter.
The lucky first few to reach the gap that was slated to become the entrance got the reward of a red beam of energy jammed through them, and several more lost limbs first-followed by their lives-to a menacing black demon that emerged from within.
Several soldiers shouted.
"That...That thing! It's got the Data case!"
"Kill it!"
As if unwilling to fight, the figure turned and bolted for the tree trunk followed by blaster fire.
A soldier foolish enough to try to scramble across the trunk after the attacker was struck by a invisible force and plunged into the swampy goo, where he sink with gurgling scream instantly.
The enigmatic being whipped out the red beam again, and scarred the trunk several times-the searing hot weapon carved several gouges in the bark before finally igniting it, and flame licked hungrily out over the trunk. The figure vanished for a moment, only to reappear near the small land bridge to the island. The sodliers on the island froze, realizing what they had doomed themselves to.
The Dark assailant grinned, and slashed up some saplings.
More fire licked up the vegetation, and the the power of the Force tossed burning bits onto the shelter.
Fire soon consumed the small island eating up moss, branch, and rebel alike.
As the last one fell screaming, Calliga turned and ducked back into the woods, still smiling.
------------------------------------------

After stopping briefly at the rocks holding the ruins of the main rebel base, calliga informed the commander of the deaths of all the survivors. he then proceeded to summon the soldier who'd commented earlier about Siren and him in a negative fashion and proceeded to decide their punishment-On a hunch, he tore off the disrespectful cop's helmet and found another female, much to his suprise. making a gender comment to the commanding officer, Calliga elected that a suitable punishment would be to take this female along with the other one, and live them over to siren and siren's harem, to have with as they liked.(death being a one-time only punishment that was not alway the most fitting.)
Binding his second trophy for siren, He then got back on the bike and headed back to the capital.
--------------------------------------------------
After leaving the bike in the hangar and giving the data cases to the appropriate staff members, Calliga arranged to have his two prisoners placed in a holding cell in the citidell so siren could dictate who got them later, or have them herself, first-who knew.
However, after that, Calliga was met with a odd scenario: no one would tell him where siren was, and instead the just giggled and walked away. After becoming irked by this, Calliga resolved to go back to his room, and page her on the console.
The sith walked up to the door to his room, swiped a access card he'd be given, and the door opened with a hiss-
And a shocking sight bombarded his senses....though not a negative one.
"....What's....?"

Pressed against the wall and concealed by the smoke, Pash could sense Darog trying to feel out his location with the force. The Drama act was gone and he could pick up the growing annoyance and a tinge of fear from him as he made his sweeps.

Pash focused on nullifying his signature in the force, letting Darog's sensing pass over him as though he wasnt there. The Sith Assassin was giving himself away with his sweeps. If the sith were a younger being, Pash would see it as a boneheaded mistake.

But a Sith Master was a different situation altogether.
It could be a mistake, but chances were better it was a trap or that Darog was proving he wasnt afraid of Pash.

Regardless, he couldnt just rush in. That would be stupid. But neither could he continue the waiting game. The smoke would disipate eventually and the longer he waited, the better the chance Darog would give up on the game and call in back up.

Before he could do anything though, he would need to deal with his enemy's armor. Sith Armor was notorious for being lightsaber resistant, and the fact an assassin was wearing something as encumbering as body armor meant it offered additional benefits that overshadowed its limits.

He wasnt sure his bullets could pierce the material. Darog made an effort to block and avoid them but that could've simply been a honed response to any sort of projectile attack.

To use a knife or his sword would require him to find a weak point in his defense. At best he would have one shot before his opponent retaliated, but if well struck it could end the duel in an instant

He needed to create a weak point. He didnt have time to study his opponent's armor for vulnerable chinks.

Pash drew a small device from one of his belt pouches: a special focused EMP device. When thrown it would stick to a surface with electromagnets and then pump a high powered Electro Magnetic Pulse into the object. devised by his Jedi Shadow "clan", such a device proved rather effective against opponents wearing powersuits or with electical systems wired into their armor. And Pash just knew Darog's armor would have such systems.

Moving through the smoke like a wraith, he caught sight of a shape in the smoke. He curled his hand around the edge of the Sticky EMP charge and flung it at his target. An audible clack of metallic contact announced a successful hit and Pash slipped back into the smoke as a bolt of lighting blasted the spot he had been standing in.

It was quiet for a few heartbeats. Then Pash heard rustling and clicking. Behind his own Sith Assassin mask, Pash's eyes widdened.

He's taking his helmet off.

Pash drew his knife and moved as silent and swift as a Corellian Sand Panther, homing in on the sound.
He saw Darog's back, saw him struggle to swiftly take his helmet off.
The instant he saw the bare flesh of his opponent's tattooed neck he attacked.

Darog couldnt react in time.
Pash's knife parted between the cervical vertebrae and severed the spinal cord with bone piercing force.

The Sith was dead before he even hit the ground. Clean, quick, and painless.

Pash rolled the body over, closed the corpse's eyes, and rumaged in the man's pockets for keys and pass cards, then recovered the now burnt out Sticky EMP Charge. He wiped his blade on the man's garb, sheathed it, and made for the door.

He paused briefly and turned to face the body of the Dark lord of Stealth.

"There is no Death. There is the Force." He said quietly.

And then he vanished down the darkened hallway.

The Sith Assassin academy would be hard pressed to recover from the humiliation given. Their secrecy pierced, their elites defeated, and their chief instructor dead. And they would never know the Jedi had handed them the defeat. They might suspect, but they would be unable to prove it. All eyes would turn inward first, driving more wedges between the Sith Warlords.

Mission Accomplished.

Now if that Mandalorian Mercenary did his job, the following explosion would be cover plenty to make good his escape.

Cene returned to her ship, her one safe refuge in a galaxy of enemies.
The Inside of the ship was cozy yet orderly: filled with an assortment of trophies and momentoes as well as secured weapons racks, containers of supplies, and other items befiting a nomad.

She disarmed herself and placed everything in its proper place: weapons in their racks or containers, armor in its secured storage case by the workbench.

Clad in her bodysuit , Cene flopped into her bunk and stared at the ceiling.
The events of the past few days had drained her. And this last encounter had set her on edge.

She had seen what was wrong with her people, a sad excuse of a mando that epitomized the cowardice and weakness that the Mandaloians might fall to in this age.

Scavengers, opportunists, no better than jawas of war. Is that what her ancestors had fought so many times for? They lost Coruscant to the Legion of Zhell, sided with the losers in the Great Sith War, and lost once more in the Mandalorian War.

All great conflicts. All losses.

Cene saw it as the events that forged her people into the hardened warriors and survivors they were today. The Mandalorians had lost many times, but they were never fully beaten. Her mother's race was dying out, but the Mandalorians they had founded would survive.

But a history of defeat often left a people demoralized and weak. She had seen the eyes of a defeated foe. They had given up: reduced to sniveling cowardice in the hopes of prolonging their miserable life, or utterly crushed and emotionless, waiting for death. She feared some of her own peopl had fallen into the crowd of defeatists.

Such was the case with the Hutt'uun she encountered before. His armor was black, the color of justice to the Mando'ade. But black also symbolized nothing, the absence of color. That man was nothing. He shot a helpless man, taunted a proven warrior, made countless tactical errors and demanded that Cene prove her worth as Mando to him.
He should have proved himself Mando first.

He was weak without an excuse. Cene understood there were people who were weaker than her: Children, the elderly, the sick, the maimed. But these people could not help being weak. If they had the strength, they would hold themselves up.

But that man was weak without an excuse. He was neither too old nor too young for a human. He was not ill nor was he maimed. He was hale and hearty. Yet he was weak.

It sickened her.
Cene had never seen a taung act that way. It was only in humans, the inheritors of the taung legacy, that she saw such actions. There were good humans to be sure. Dal'buir, her father, was one such man. But it was humans like the Hutt'uun that ruined the Mandalorian name.

She would not stand idly by while that happened.
Cene sat up and stared at her tattooed arms, the white Taung sigils promising Oya'riye, good hunting. She was a living example of what it meant to be Mando, half taung, half human: The Strength and courage of the old Mandalorians coupled with the cunning and tenacity of the new. If anyone was going to show the galaxy what a real mandalorian was, she knoew it would have to be her. And she relished the challenge.

"By the Manda, I will not let the Mando'ade be known as weaklings." She declared, her voice carrying through every corner of the ship. "The Mando'ade will be forever known as the best warriors in the Galaxy. And I will make it so. Even if I have to scalp every Jedi and Sith in the Galaxy to prove it."

She stood and stared out the window of her ship at the world around her, clenching her raised fist in determination.

"I will seek out every battle, every war, every fight. And I will win. I will fight the strongest the Galaxy has to offer and send their skulls back to Mandalore himself so he can see there is one Mando'ad who has not forgotten who we are! In the name of the Manda I swear this! Haat, Ijaa, Haa'it! Ni kom'rk Manda'yaim troch nyn ures adenn, Dha Werda Verda a'den tratu! Oya!!"

In that moment, Cene Quell declared her challenge to the galaxy. Despite the size of her opponent, she was undeterred. Her people needed no more cowards.