Lightside Sith 041

During the scuffle, Kaine & Vebb had reached a tacit understanding, and at some point had pulled their men back. A horn had sounded, signalling that it was time for a half-time show, giving guests time to go piss or buy some concessions. Once this occurred, the boats had drifted apart, and the gladiators/clones were given a temporary breather. 

Vebb took this time to subtly communicate the plan with his clone Commander, whilst Kaine secretly plotted the demise of the gladiators. Sensing a faint connection to the slug, it became clear to him that they had been planted ahead of time. That should Grakkus truly descend for a fight, these gladiators were more likely to stab Kaine in the back, then help him due to something so ephemeral as ‘loyalty.’ 

During this brief break, Kaine spotted a familiar face amongst the audience. Sitting on a lower rung where she could view all the action, Dormé-accompanied by many children & a handful of guards-was pensively gazing down at him. Wearing a cloak, and half mask to protect her identity as a body double, she could scarcely hide her concern. 

“Row towards that far wall, we shall rest there.” Kaine directed the dozen or so gladiators that remained. 

Eying him murderously, the warriors only took action once he used [Inflict Pain] on one, eliciting a yelp. 

+1LP. 

His act of showcasing Sith dominance was reflected by the System, and the unlucky fellows grit their teeth, following his orders. 

Once there, he jumped up towards a low hanging drone, then tapped his feet off of it, swung on a wire like a videogame character, and used that momentum to land in the stands. 

Many people clapped at the acrobatic performance, and quite a few were leaning in close to get selfies. Kaine posed, flexed his biceps, and held his big sword aloft. 

“Break my chains, victory shall set me free!” A child Kaine had rescued from the Trandoshan gang ran up, and chanted. 

The little girl was soon joined by many others who had literally been chained at one point, and had started something of a sensation. As many other people started to crowd him like rabid sporting fans, slapping him on the shoulder, and claiming they'd bet all they had on him. 

Ruffling several tiny heads, posing for a picture or two, and signing a few dozen autographs, Kaine eventually made it to the masked, hooded handmaiden. Wearing a confident, somewhat goofy grin, he held out his hand in a ‘mi'lady’ posture, but was quickly swatted away. 

“What are you doing?” Dormé hissed. “You know I am incognito. I never should have come here…” 

“But the children are so happy.” Kaine said, gesturing towards a pair of kids that were mounted on his ridiculously large pauldrons. 

Dormé sighed, and then shook her head. 

“Why did you jump up here, it couldn't be just to see me, right?” She said, looking off to the side glumly, and said in a sarcastic tone. Although her attitude & words said otherwise, deep down, she yearned to be loved. However, her position did not afford such flights of fancy. She was dedicated to the former Queen. 

“A token of the maiden's support is what I seek.” Kaine instantly replied, making her sputter, choking on her own spit. 

“You know I cannot-” 

“And the price I shall pay will be millions of credits to our foundation. Open a bet that Grakkus will join the arena fight. Place everything on my final victory.” Kaine said in a confident tone. 

“Renstar, that's too dangerous, that's bone headed. Grakkus would never agree to this, there's no precedent, no-mmmph!!!” Dormé complained one after another when Kaine suddenly removed her mask, lowered her head, and planted a wet kiss with plenty of tongue on her lips. 

The young body double saw stars in her eyes, and felt her heart melt for a second. Those golden eyes of his seemed to melt her to the very core, and she squirmed in place, barely maintaining a noble lady's dignity. Then, the second he pulled back, the jeers & cat-calls brought her back to reality, and she realized her cover had been blown. 

Tons of cameras had caught the scene, and the whole thing had been broadcast to a jumbo-tron, meaning the entire arena had practically witnessed this kiss. Within the hour countless HoloArticles, content creators, and news outlets would be reporting on the secret love affair between Padmé Amidala, and Kaine Renstar. That she had even traveled so far as the hive of scum & villainy known as Nar Shaddaa to see her man fight. Such a heart warming scene, such a forbidden fruit filled love affair! Women across the galaxy sighed, imagining meeting the bad boy like that, whilst men bemoaned ‘it should've been me, not him!’ 

“Renstar!!!” Dormé cried out, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, and her cheeks puffing out. 

“Remember the bet!” Kaine called back, already jumping back down to the arena, and whooping like a child that had just pranked the prettiest girl in school. 

+1LP

+3LP

+5LP

+7LP

+...LP

Countless amounts of LP poured into Kaine's coffers as made his escape. Ahh, it was good to be the King~ 

As soon as he landed back on the deck of the ship, a gong sounded, and the teasing had come to an end. It was time to shock the world once more, and display his martial prowess. After all, how could he possibly call himself the main character of this drama after receiving the lady's favor?! 

“Straight at them! Give those self-loving, incestuous clone bastards nowhere to run!” Kaine roared for the camera, making sure to throw some shade at the Republic while he was at it. 

His rowers bent to their oars. The clones approached in disciplined silence, although Kaine's words seemed to have gotten a few worked up into a rage, whilst one guiltily looked off to the side. Oh. How interesting~ 

Above them, Grakkus leaned forward beneath his purple awning, the immense muscles of his arms bunching against the edge of his dais. The big slug wore an enraptured grin as he watched the performance. 

Kaine waited until the boats nearly touched.

“Pull Starboard! Do it now, and pull hard!”

The abrupt turn exposed his crowded flank to the clones’ prow, and large planks of wood burst inward due to the impact. Two gladiators disappeared beneath the ram; another pitched overboard with an oar tangled between his legs. Kaine staggered theatrically, caught the rail, and pointed his sword through the flying spray of wood chips & water. 

“Board them! Kill the Jedi!”

His men scrambled across, and met a wall of spears. 

Kaine followed through the wreckage, roaring loudly enough to drown out the sounds of the dying. He struck a clone’s shield with such force that its painted surface split, making the trooper fall backward. Kaine’s returning stroke sliced through the loose leather at his shoulder, drawing a bright, shallow line of blood.

The man dropped his spear and clutched the wound as he fell. Kaine then planted a golden boot beside his throat.

“Stay down.” He hissed.

Then he lifted the warblade for the audience, showcasing the brightly lit runes, and slicked blood. 

+1LP +1LP +1LP

Grakkus bellowed his approval, and the crowd roared. 

Behind Kaine, a gladiator tried to finish the fallen clone. Kaine caught the man by his collar and hurled him toward the group of clones, bowling five Republic men over all at once. Stabbing the gladiator dead, the troopers then began to act dazed, and sat out the rest of the fight on the sidelines.

Kaine took on a graceful form, and flowed about the deck of both ships with murderous efficiency. His sword swiped in large, glittering arcs, breaking shields, knocking away weapons, and shallowly cutting into leather armor just enough to draw blood & appear lethal, whilst simultaneously keeping the men alive. Clones tumbled beneath the benches or crawled toward the stern, leaving bloody handprints behind them. Up close, his blows arrived at strange angles. A killing thrust became a cut across a sleeve. A pommel stopped short of a temple and struck a raised shield instead, giving its owner ample reason to collapse.

One trooper slipped on the wet deck and nearly fell between the hulls, to save the man, whilst also appearing incredibly brutal, like a blood crazed Sith warrior, Kaine seized his cuirass, hauled him back, and flung him onto the rowing benches.

“Another!” He roared, raising his fist.

The crowd clapped along, counting it as his twelfth victory. 

His own men received less consideration.

He ordered three around the outside rail, where they had to abandon their shields to balance. He called for an advance while the clones’ spearpoints remained steady. When a thick tentacle curled over the stern, he drove his remaining reserves toward it with a promise that the Jedi was trapped there.

As a result, the squid-like alien's suckers closed around a screaming axeman. Two others hacked at the limb until another arm swept their feet from beneath them.

Whilst most of the gladiators had been dealt with, and the clones were ‘out of commision,’ Vebb had finally strode forth to ‘deal with' Kaine.

Without a word, a newly acquired trident caught Kaine's blade with a ringing crash.

As they exchanged a dozen blows, the final gladiator attacked the Jedi from behind.

Kaine saw him coming & Vebb sensed his approach. The Sith then went for a brutal side-swipe, forcing Vebb to perform a backflip. Just then, the warblade swept forth, cutting the gladiator in half, and drowning the deck with sprays of blood. 

“No one shall interfere with my one versus one against the Jedi! Upon my honor as a Sith warrior, you are mine, Mon Calamari!” Kaine grandly declared. 

Slowly circling one another in an effort to regain any lost energy, they gave off an aura of a pair of masters testing one another. The Jedi’s eyes flicked toward the water, and Kaine subtly nodded. 

Vebb suddenly attacked, and for several exchanges, they gave Grakkus everything he had paid to see. The trident battered Kaine’s patched shoulder plate. His warblade struck sparks from the iron shaft. Vebb vaulted a broken bench, thrust low, and forced him stumbling backward.

The crowd chanted for the Jedi as Kaine was slowly on the losing end. Bleeding from a dozen tiny cuts, the red-skinned Sith looked like he was on his last ropes. 

“Kaine, no!” Dormé shouted, rising from her seat when it appeared that the trident was going to skewer through his abdomen, and pin him to the deck. 

Then, seemingly against all odds, Kaine caught the trident beneath his arm.

Vebb pulled it back, only to have Kaine advance with him, driving the Jedi toward the edge of the boat. Delivering a brutal headbutt, Kaine then grabbed the dazed fish-man, and ‘broke his spine’ with his knee like Bane breaking Batman's spine, then tossed him into the waiting maw of a shark-like alien. Frothy blood churned up the pool of water, and Kaine beat on his chest like a gorilla male declaring his dominance. 

Kaine threw back his head, and his roar rose toward the open heavens, raw enough to hurt his throat. He spread his arms, the warblade dripping in one fist, and let the theater lights blaze across his battered golden armor.

The arena erupted louder than people rooting for their favorite sports team. 

Grakkus hammered the dais with one enormous hand. His laughter rolled through the shouting, delighted and breathless. He pointed at the water, then at Kaine, demanding that his attendants appreciate what they had witnessed.

A Sith had fed a Jedi to a monster.

Kaine waited until the Hutt reached for his drinking bowl, then he pointed the warblade at him.

“Grakkus!”

The Hutt paused in his motion, an amused glint in his lantern-like eye. 

“You know what this blade is.”

Grakkus’s eyes narrowed with pleasure. He answered in booming Huttese, naming the forging process, and how it came to be. 

“Then you know what I want. What every Sith craves!” He shouted. You have collected the armor, weapons, and trophies of my people. And made yourself strong in imitation of us…but you are no Sith! Come down. Cross blades with a true warrior. Let me learn whether your collection contains anything worthy of its master.” Kaine arrogantly admonished. 

Grakkus wordlessly pressed some buttons, and a new warship entered the arena. 24 more gladiators were onboard. Then, the spider-clawed mount that carried his bulk jumped down onto the ship. 

“Bah ha ha. Do not think yourself clever, little Sithling.” Grakkus laughed, seemingly seeing through his plan. 

Kaine raised his blade in salute.

“Break my chains, victory shall set me free!”