Nightshift 19 - Hallway between Sun Room/Entry Room

[soul_defender]

((Coming from here.))

Just a little further...I know I saw a different way to go last night.Ichigo's movements were quick, but his trade-off for speed was stealth, each footstep he took pounding firmly against the tiled floors as he made his way along the expansive hallway. If there was anything lurking around these corners, anything sinister

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[fallen_kaleesh]

This planet was home to a facility that was meant to be off limits. Supposedly following some ancient laws, prisoners of war in this sector were kept on a neutral planet. Namely, this one. The Republic couldn't set foot here - not without some serious political and economical backlash from this planet. Neither could the Seperatists. Count Dooku had outright said that they would respect these laws. It was a sign of goodwill. Something Dooku was good at making a show of.

What that really meant was to keep the assassinations quiet. Count Dooku and Lord Sideous themselves had approved of the operation.

It wasn't particularly hard for his intelligence to find some anti-Republic, CIS-sympathizers in the facility. The General planned it as a lone operation; it was partially to avoid immediate detection.... and partially to prove to himself that he could do this, without the aid of the droid armies at his command that he so very much despised.

Windu had wounded him, not defeated him. He would not be defeated by the Republic, much less a stinking Jedi.

Besides, other than being a test, taking out these prisoners would deal a nice blow to the Republic. Grievous didn't care nearly as much as Dooku about appearances, but he did respect the fallen Jedi. It was only out of that grudging respect that he followed the orders to the letter.

Of course, things were never so simple. He wasn't able to get all of his trophies in with him, but only one so far. The contact had been apologetic, but getting him planetside and into the facility was difficult enough. They could smuggle more in later, but not all at once.

More than once, Grievous preferred outright fighting instead of all this diplomacy. Diplomacy, as the general saw it, was a necessary evil that he didn't have to like. It was mostly the coward's way of things. Lying through the teeth, holding onto a blade behind the back. Disgusting. There wasn't any honor in it.

As he took his first steps in this forbidden prison camp, the Separatist General drew the single lightsaber he had still, although he didn't turn it on quite yet. This place was dark, but that was to be expected. He'd have to keep the attacks during the planet's nightfall. Even so, his sensors and tampered eyes picked up a life form up ahead. Alone, and currently lying on the floor.

His contact had expressly said that no guards would be around at night. This could only mean one thing. If he still had a full mouth, he might have grinned.

With the heavy whurr-thunk, whurr-thunk of the droid legs, Grievous slowly approached the figure lying on the ground.

[soul_defender]

To his knowledge, there was no need to hurry. After running so hard, taking the quickest path straight from his room to his current position stretched out on the cold, hard floor, Ichigo decided to take a moment and gather his thoughts, hoping to pool his staggered wits and devise some sort of plan. No, it would hardly be very involved; that simply wasn't his gift. Being spontaneous was practically all he knew. While he stared with an empty, tired gaze straight up to the ceiling, taking in the less-than-interesting shape and texture of the tiles, Ichigo reached his hands up and began to tussle his fingers about through his vivid orange hair, as if he were trying to massage his brain out of its lethargic state and back into action.

"Hahh...should I go back to the dorms, maybe find some company? Or, there were those stairs back there...eh?"

An unfamiliar sound caught his ear, prompting him to lightly lift his head from the floor and turn. From his awkward angle, he couldn't make anything out, only able to catch fleeting glimpses of the walls and a corner of the doorway, no matter which way his head turned. His weary features started to grow more concerned then as he slowly lifted himself off of the floor and cautiously began to turn himself to see the source. "...hello...? I really hope that's somebody I know..."

He almost dreaded to find out the truth. The further he turned, the more of room he could see again, until...dull, battle-scarred metal with odd, digited protrusions scraping along the ground came into view. He turned further...a pair of gasping, grainy, bloodshot yellow eyes greeted him grimmly through an unfeeling metal mask. Startled, Ichigo drew back, his lips curled with shock. All he could do, his arms beginning to tremble lightly, was grasp tightly at the katana laying beside him, then leap to his feet and stand ready, holding the edged weapon tightly between two hands.

"Yo. Don't suppose you're friendly, are you?"

[fallen_kaleesh]

Friendly? Friendly?! Before the explosion, that might have brought a sarcastic smile (although it was hard for a non-Kaleesh to tell when a Kaleesh was smiling in the first place. At best, it still looked menacing).

....But now, it only succeeded in suddenly filling the Seperatist General with cold rage.

His people had been ready to consider negotiations about joining the Republic when they'd made the first of many appeals for help. They'd been willing to lay a little of their pride down and to let their world - it had always been theirs, never sullied by alliances with others - become a part of the vast Republic. It meant accepting all the taxes, the laws that weren't their own, admitting that just maybe they weren't strong enough.

It was something that had never happened before in his race's entire history. It was something that wasn't going to happen again.

And how had those scum repayed that precious gift? They had allied with the Huks. Not because they were any better, because as species went, they were vastly inferior to the Kaleesh. All they had possessed was a world with more plentiful and useful resources to the Republic.

And was this pathetic human attempting to plead for his life? It was time, Grievous felt, that he got a taste of just what his Republic's "mercy" felt like.

"Friendly?'" Grievous repeated. The voice that came out was a ghastly mix of droid and what was left of his own. It didn't help that machinery were constantly warring the remains of his abused vocal chords. "I don't trade words with Republic filth."

With a snap-hiss, the lightsaber came to life, the deadly blade casting a sudden green glow.

[soul_defender]

Ichigo, watching the sinister figure continue to approach with the same clanking, thundering foosteps, felt his face and features become brightly illuminated by the foreign object clutched in those burnished hands. As the narrow pillar of light rose from the curious hilt, Ichigo raised an eyebrow at the same pace, looking perfectly bewildered by the weapon. He'd never seen a blade like it, not even with all his vaunted experience among sword-wielding souls. The very air around it seemed to be flushed with a strange sense of heat, as if it were being burned away.

"Hey...what kind of weird sword is that?" Ichigo blurted strangely, removing one hand from the hilt of his common metal blade in order to point an accusing finger at Grievous' weapon. He had no reply for the beast of metal and flesh; his one-track mind couldn't be bothered to even wonder what sort of 'Republic' was in question. "It's not fair to cheat like that."

Quickly, however, Ichigo laced his fingers back around his own sword, shocked by a new sensation; this...thing...was absolutely oozing blood-lust. He needed to be ready, if he would be able to defend himself in the least. Sharply, the brash young shinigami let his sword lower to the floor, the far tip of the blade nearly scraping soundly against the ground just as he took several gaining steps towards his opponent.

Several more steps then after, gaining in speed and traction. Held out at his right side, the edge of the katana was still dangerously close to the floor, while his wrists tightened, tensed and ready to sweep the sword at a cutting angle upwards.

More steps, now practically running, Ichigo wore a deathly snarl on his face, his eyes focused on his vital target as he swept the blade up, drawing it at a raking degree at the hybrid monster's neck with as much force as any human could muster.

[fallen_kaleesh]

Cheating? Cheating was the first thing a little rat like this one would fling out when they feared that others were stronger than them. Perhaps it was the first time they'd been confronted with this truth; there would always be someone stronger.

Grievous didn't bother answering. He had as much respect for this scum as he did the hundreds of Huk he'd ground underneath his feet, which meant that he didn't need to waste his breath on him.

The kid attacked. It wasn't with the trained efficiency that he'd seen Jedi fight with. It was something wilder. It reminded him of one of Count Dooku's "pets".

It helped that the General didn't have too much in the way of pain receptors, other than his eyes and the coughing his wrecked organs produced. The droid body could send its own warnings about whether the enviroment around it was getting dangerous or not. If the entire body could feel pain, then it could be a distracting. No pain, no fear.

The blade was surprisingly sharp for a backwater weapon. It glanced off the shoulder plates, and went right for the neck cables and supports. Surprisingly enough, it actually started to dig in. Grievous's free hand snapped up to grab ahold of the blade, stopping it before it could go any further. The other hand came up, and the lightsaber was suddenly stabbing right towards the teenager.

[soul_defender]

Grunting with exertion, Ichigo's arms stiffened, his muscles tightened and bulging, as he struggled to advance the blade further. Tightly and openly, his teeth grit, fully displaying his resolve to continue, but strangely, his lips would reflect not a single hint of fear, but rather a strange and sadistic smile. It was there in plain sight for Grievous to see, especially prevalent at such a close, lethal range, when their eyes met. Beyond all reason, was he somehow...enjoying himself?

Locked in place, the berry-head shifted his feet suddenly, digging his heels in to find even the most miniscule hope of traction. He needed the leverage, and badly; this gasping, heaving creature was stronger than him, with his powers so drastically reduced.

Sharply, catching a tiny glance of the humming blade singing towards him, Ichigo's eyes widened again as he narrowly ducked just to the side, using Grievous' own grip on his sword as a brace to swing out of harm's way. His style was wild, but in its aggressive nature lay a simple, understated grace, through the fluid, seamless way Ichigo managed to move. Though he was used to such close-quarter combat, giving him just enough experience to survive for now, nothing could prepare him for the chilling sound he could hear as the glowing edge hovered just past his ear, a gruff, almost mechanical twinge, causing goosebumps to rise up the length of his spine.

Hoping to catch the creature off-guard as he swept off to the side, letting the lightsaber pierce the open air instead, Ichigo released his grip on his own sword with one hand, using it then to take a swift, sharp, yet reckless jab at Grievous' face, only realizing after the fact that even if he managed to connect, it would likely hurt him just as much.

[fallen_kaleesh]

The Republic prisoner's fist did make contact with Grievous' mask. Had the former Kaleesh still had his body, he might have recoiled from the blow and fallen back a step or two; for a human, it was surprisingly strong. And strangely enough, the gaze he had reminded the Seperatist of some of the more hot-headed Kaleesh trainees long ago.

He didn't know if that made him more sad or furious.

Unfortunately for the human, it was flesh and muscles against armorplast-plated duranium and durasteel, a match that had the former guaranteed to lose. If the human was expecting a flinch, it didn't come. Grievous's head just barely twitched to the side from the impact.

Instead, Grievous began to laugh, a mocking sound interrupted by a cough. This prisoner was foolish, but the brashness was almost amusing. The Droid General shifted, the motors rotating his wrist as he began to twist the katana out of Ichigo's grasp and toward its snapping point. The other hand with the lightsaber was recovering from the swing almost immediately, and coming back with a move meant to gore.

It was a shame that lightsabers left so little a mess. Perhaps it was a fitting symbol of the Jedi Order. They wanted to be able to deal some violence without facing the full facts of what they've done. Grievous preferred seeing a little blood every now and then.

[soul_defender]

Shitshitshitshit!

Cursing silently, the fear burst out from his mind and onto his expressions, clentched with apprehension as he drew back his now sore and deeply-reddened knuckles from their impacted point with the thick plating on the creature's 'face', if it could be called as such. Even though his flaring emotions, Ichigo could sense nothing but the faintest flicker of reiatsu from his mechanized menace; anything alive inside it was barely so.

Yet, it wasn't the sorry state of his fist that had frightened him. Ichigo almost anticipated the result in mid-punch, then shook his limp hand painfuly about in the air. Instead, it was the feel of his wrist, still holding to the hilt of his katana, being agonizingly twisted into a very bad position with Grievous' grip, as well as the sight of the glowing beam of light sailing towards him again.

There was no choice; Ichigo had to let go of his sword and move, releasing his hand before it could be wrenched off of his arm by the monster's strength. He scarcely had enough time to dodge, throwing himself forcibly down to the floor where he landed with a sharp 'thud' flat on his back, the lightsaber passing straight above him. As quickly as he could, the shinigami scrambled away, hoping to avoid that weapon being swung down on him in such a helpless position, then nimbly sprang back up to his feet.

No sword now. Punches and kicks wouldn't do a thing to all that tough armor, and he couldn't see a single part of its body that didn't look like some cybernetic nightmare. Ichigo's breathing was starting to quicken as well, but he still had enough conditioning to keep going. All he could do was eye Grievous carefully as he began to back away slowly, inching his way back into the previous hallway where he might have more room to dodge and pray for some sort of opening.

Maybe he'll make a mistake...

...yeah, right.

[fallen_kaleesh]

The katana blade snapped with a sharp whine of metal. The two halves were tossed away behind him, to go skittering off along the floor and into the darkness. Swinging the lightsaber in an increasingly fast fan, Grievous took a deliberately slow step forward. A step. And then another and another, all while the lightsaber's hum grew louder and louder. The blade was beginning to blur as his wrist rotated, moving at speeds his original body could never have hoped to meet.

His opponent couldn't seem to decide where to be looking, at the Droid General himself or at the lightsaber that he was spinning. This kind of mistake cost lives. War wasn't forgiving of any amount of stupidity.

Grievous wasn't the best at reading human faces. He didn't care to either. But even he could see the indecision and doubt written across that face... and more importantly, fear.

The Seperatist moved to press the advantage.

[soul_defender]

Perhaps it was the distance, or perhaps it was the darkness. Perhaps there was just enough 'human' left inside that clattering cacophony of armor and hydrolics to simply make a mistake, but Ichigo knew exactly what to watch. There was no point wasting effort in trying to follow the lightsaber itself, not with its incredible dervish speed; not only that, but this wasn't exactly the first time someone threateningly spun a sword in his direction.

Alright...I know I'm fast enough to dodge that guy, as long as he can't back me into a corner...

Indecision was definitely one word to describe the look Ichigo gave off. The visible bearing in his eyes suggested the speed his mind was racing at as he continued to retreat, now in the center of the hallway once more.

I need something to hit him with, though! Almost regretfully, Ichigo briefly eyed the shattered pieces of his sword, so carelessly cast aside on the floor. No, definitely not that anymore. But maybe...

He looked as if he were waiting for something to happen. Grievous may have been moving methodically then, but Ichigo knew he could likely spring forward at a moment's notice, feeling validly reluctant to underestimate this creature's speed. So long as that something never happened, though, Ichigo would keep on moving backwards, heading straight through the opened doors to the Sun Room.

((Moving here. Watch out!))