With the bright glare of the Arathir sun casting its rays over the ruined surface of Dival, the 'fortress-city' of Tortuga was beginning to come to life with the hustle bustle of everyday living, smugglers and traders plying their wares, slavers bringing in fresh sex slaves to the auctioning blocks, and the denizens of this futuristic Sodom and Gomorrah living up to the reputation of their ancient Earth counterpart, long since destroyed by fire and brimstone.

Well, that was the usual scene throughout much of Tortuga, save for the central zone surrounding the largest structure on the Cradle, which had been established as 'Kast territory' since Leran II's destruction and the genocide of the Arathir. Now, the sections of the Cradle surrounding the 'Tower' where the Lord of Tortuga had made his base of operations were entirely free of criminality and filth, the perfect image of military discipline and order.

At this time of the day, however, it was also the place where the Kast and their supporters watched the death matches occurring down on Dival as desperate gladiators, outfitted with only the barest of protection and air filters to keep themselves alive waged combat against each others, striving with all their might to slay the other so that they might be granted a pardon from the Kast warlord himself and regain their freedom. Naturally, it was also at such times that the rivlak heard out those who had requested audience with him and his loyalists.

A self-proclaimed King and a mockery of a royal court, Varrik and his fellow Kast watched as a particularly bloody battle took place within one of the caverns of Dival, where the victorious warrior had just finally crushed the skull of his foe and hurled the dying male into a river of molten lava, eliciting cheers and jeers from his 'court' as currency exchanged hands through bets won and lost.

Pleased with the latest match, the warlord looked to the side, his gaze meeting that of his second in command, his terlak. The gesture was all that was necessary for the terlak to bring in the next one that had come to see the Kast leader. If rumors were true, then the warlord was about to get his first view of a Heulorian. Of all the females in the cosmos, there were a few that stood out above the rest, and the women of Heulorian Prime were such a people. The fact that she was of royalty only made the visit more interesting to the warlord, who had been pondering what such a female would want from a place like Tortuga. Well, no use in pondering it further, he would be finding out soon enough.

The rivlak knew that gaze well. He had worn it a thousand times before on a thousand other worlds. It was the gaze of a hunter, searching for a sought-after prize. A part of the warlord's mind suspected treachery, as he often did when it came to many visiting dignitaries. Such suspicions were cast aside soon after, as he thought back to what little his men had told him of Heulorians when it was hard that one had come to request audience with him. Very much like the Kast, they were a warrior people as well, and the Kast leader suspected it to be something else.

Not treachery, no. What the handmaiden had uttered just now betrayed different designs in the royal female's mind. Though he did not care much for being measured up by an opponent, much less a woman, Varrik could plainly tell that this 'to-be-Empress' wanted something from him. They all usually did but it was often for such ridiculous things or pointless causes. The last had the audacity to to request that he intervene in a civil war and use his forces as peacekeepers. The fool should have realized that the Kast did not keep the peace...

They were warriors, with the obligation to wage combat on other warriors. There was no glory to be had in crushing commoners and doing the dirty work of spineless politicians. The man had been promptly apprehended by several of the Kast's supporters and taken away, his fate to be decided in the matches on Dival

That said, even as the female measured her quarry up, the Kast did not refrain from doing the same, choosing to see a woman from such a strong people as more than just a mere annoyance. Though she did not share his gender, Varrik was a leader before he was a male, and he knew better than to blunder through a meeting between those who were born and bred rulers. Keeping his attention on the Heulorian, the Kast warlord then took the moment's silence to consider what to say. "I see no seekers before me, only a huntress."

The rivlak remained seated in silence as he listened to the Heulorian's words. To the Kast, it was a ridiculous request, but the result was that of winning over an empire. Not so ridiculous, not to another with ambition. In retrospect, it was a very interesting request for a leader to be making to another leader, or at the very least, it was interesting from the warlord's perspective. Had he not taken his position through subterfuge as well, when the former rivlak's resolve had been found to be lacking and unfit to lead the remnants of the Kast military against the Arathir?

Varrik did not rise from his seat, though another did. Not as physically imposing as the warlord, the Kast evidently took offense to what the woman had said, in the way he now stood and in the timbre of his voice. "You come before our rivlak, bearing no gifts or tribute, and you make insulting requests of him... You would use the Kast to further your own goals, like those before you? Like the Arathir did? This place is all that remains of them!" Not satisfied yet, the Kast moved out of his seat, his fellows observing in silence as he approached the trio of Heulorians.

"And you ask him to participate in what is tantamount to suicide! You call the Kast superior, woman. Why, then, would you ask our great leader to entertain a request from his inferiors? Par'lik! Have you no shame? If this was Balat, by Kast law, you would be-"

"Enough." Patience wearing thin now, Varrik finally arose from his throne and made his way down the steps, until he was at the Kast's side, hand on the warrior's shoulder forcing him down onto his knees through physical strength alone. "Her request, dangerous as it may be, is still a challenge. By Kast law, a leader must meet all challenges." His deep bass voice carrying through the room had the attention of all, both Kast and non-Kast, fixed upon him. "If I die, so be it. You may leave without fear of reprisal. If I survive, what then?"

The rivlak listened as Y'isris responded, offering up such a surprising reward in exchange for him taking on the risk. Indeed, many were shocked at this offer of hers, those not of the Kast at the thought of having Heulorians to play with and those of the Kast at how a female would calmly offer up even her own family in return for power. It was not an unpleasant shock for them, as many of them expected the same from those that would lead them. After all, to lead the strong, one had to stand over them all as the strongest.

Ruthlessness and cruelty were accepted within Kast society. Especially if it benefited the species. Whenever she would be a good ruler remained to see, but for the time being, Varrik turned his attention to the size, gesturing for one of the few people not aligned with the Kast to approach. The man, a wealthy slaver himself with great influence and power, came up to the Kast. Standing on a step higher than the warlord in order to whisper into his ear, the man argued that such a bounty would bring in far greater profit than most slaves, especially with the right people to sell them to. Once the slaver had returned to his place, the Kast turned back to Y'isris.

"You come challenging me with death, willing to sacrifice your own kin for power, without hesitation. I have no respect for those of your sex, however, you..." The warlord then moved his gaze to the right, where the kneeling Kast still was, a hand reaching down to close around his throat and dragging him back up onto his feet, the Kast growling at being treated so. Without any warning, the warlord grabbed the back of his fellow Kast with his other hand and snapped the warrior's neck, allowing him to fall to the ground lifelessly.

"I have a growing lack of disgust for you." Varrik spoke as he turned back to face Y'isris. "I have slain one who is kinsman to me, as a gesture of my acceptance of your proposal. You may accept it or you may leave. I care not." With that, the warlord turned and began moving back up the steps, seating himself onto his throne. "Terlak." Intimately aware of what his master was like, the terlak rose up onto his feet, motioning for several of his men to take the body of the warlord's own relative away and announced that the assembly was concluded for today.

As the Kast and the others began to move out of the chamber, the terlak approached the princess and her handmaidens. "Arra, do you wish to reaffirm your challenge to the rivlak?"

Acknowledging the female's words, the terlak stepped to the side, gesturing for Y'isris to proceed forward before turning his attention to the handmaidens. "Come. We are no longer needed." With this, the Kast motioned for them to follow him, where he would take them to an observational lounge and allow them the opportunity to keep an eye on their mistress rather than remain blind to what would happen. Only when he was nearly at the entrance to the chamber did the rivlak call out to him. Turning to face his master, the terlak stood in silence. "If I fall, do as I did and choose one you trust above all to be your terlak. Other than this, rule with wisdom." Bowing before his rivlak, the Kast merely answered with a "Die with honor, rivlak."

As soon as his terlak, and possibly rivlak to the Kast should the woman live up to her ominous sobriquet, had left with the Princess' handmaidens, the warlord merely stared down at his latest challenger, considering how to best answer the question. There was no doubt about it, they were truly similar in many ways, save for their respective gender. Kindred spirits, really. Still, he was no whelp, content to risk death for the sake of some female. As she had challenged her, so would he challenge her...

And see how much of a warrior the Princess was. "If I live, I will hear out your terms. If I die, no terms need be debated." With that, the Kast leader stood up from his throne, pulling up a great blade that had been resting against the side of the seat, ornately designed by Kast hands. And it was then that he fell into a defensive stance. "Come, Raiker, and take your kiss from me... If you can."

The Kast watched in silence as his challenger too brought out her weapon, the corner of his lip curling up in a small smirk. He had known she would not come unarmed, as many did. No true warrior would have relinquished their arms, and those that did so only did it out of worthless fear or some illusion of etiquette. He had no time for such people and disregarded them, seeing them as only cowardly fools. Things would have been truly enjoyable if more people like Y'isris had come before him instead of mere sycophants and traders.

Begrudgingly so, only respect grew for the female before him, both respect and desire if he was being honest. The weapon of choice for the female was strange but not entirely foreign to the Kast, who had seen all sorts of weapons already. Many times many, in fact. With careful observation, the warlord watched as Y'isris began wielding her chain blade, whirling it in the air and picking up momentum with it. Before long, the blade was already fast approaching him, instinct pushing the Kast to raise his own blade in front to stave it off, only to see the weapon snap back toward Y'isris. Noting it as a ranged weapon, the warlord adopted a different stance, keeping his blade out in front of him to deflect any further attacks.

Most of those he had fought had been intimidated by the disparity in their sizes and had retorted to using ranged weaponry as well, keeping him at bay while scoring hit after hit from a safe distance. He did not fault them for doing so, as it was plainly the best method for them. Varrik, though, had expected the same from Y'isris and it was with some difficulty that he held back surprise when the female instead began approaching him instead, almost as if she planned to step into his range. It was a bitter pill for it forced the Kast to remind himself to not underestimate Y'isris, even if she was a female.

Especially when she was a female, he then let loose a deep growl as he too swung around to meet the blade of the woman's weapon with his sword, watching as it coiled itself around the hilt of his own weapon. A side glance at Y'isris betrayed a smirk as he held on to his sword tightly in one hand while lashing out at the woman with a kick. He would not allow her to climb the stairs so easily. No, a height advantage over the woman would allow him to dominate her, and the greater the difference in the height...

A willingness to step into dangerous territory along with better reflexes than what he had seen from most, the Kast was beginning to appreciate the woman as a challenger indeed, his blood all but singing at the thrill of fighting once more. The Kast grunted as he tightened his grip on the sword, raising it up slightly at an angle that would maintain the chain's hold on it, almost as if wanting to see what else the female could do and whenever she had a chance to win at all. No, he certainly did not want to see the fight end too soon, not when it was proving to be entertaining.

Before long, the warlord watched as the chain finally came loose from his blade, amused at how she had used him to stabilize herself and bring herself back into a fighting stance. He was not even noticing the fact that part of her garments had been done away, his eyes reflecting nothing but the prey in front of him. "For a woman, you fight well." It would be the first time ever that the Kast had ever paid a female, any female praise like that. Indeed, even the terlak within the observational lounge who had been watching the fight was mildly surprised himself; while an ardent follower of Kast law, he had been saved many times by his master and was more forgiving whenever Varrik spoke of things that were not often accepted by other Kasts.

With this, the warrior moved down to another step below, the blade still in his left hand, his stance now favoring a southpaw lead as the Kast was ambidextrous and wished to see whenever the woman could cope or not. Though, he was not about to allow her another offense this time, leaping down the steps as he brought the sword in a sweeping slash from the opposite direction, his right hand slipping in behind his back and unsheathing a curved blade, holding it like a dagger, a taunting smirk on his lips.

Giving only a snort in return, the rivlak eased back for only a moment, taking in the sight of the new blades Y'isris had brought into play. Not willing to back down just yet, the warlord pressed the attack, hearing his blades scrape against her as she instead evaded with a sidestep, getting in behind him and gaining the advantage for herself. Only a growl betrayed his annoyance at losing the height advantage so easily, Varrik turned to face his challenger once again. Annoyed as he might have been, he still hadn't forgotten the significant difference between their heights, and with the way things were, that difference was now nearly gone.

If there was no longer any difference in the height, then it came down to something else. And this, the Kast had in spades - Brute strength. Moving into action, the warlord began his series of strikes, exchanging them with attacks from the female in return. More and more, his thoughts were being confirmed. She wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, he understood, and if he was to win, he had to keep pushing her. Though he had yet to land a clean blow on the female, the Kast ignored that fact and kept up the offense, matching her mobility with a barrage of hard hitting strikes that would still do the task by forcing her to dodge those that she couldn't block. Still, he was impressed that Y'isris could keep up, almost as well as any male he had fought...

At first he appeared to be ignoring the words the Heulorian had spoken, shutting them out and focusing only on the battle. Only after he had wedged the way open and pushed through to the side until they were on the same step again, breaking the stalemate. The rivlak now smiled as he stood up straight, staring down at Y'isris, though ready to fall back into a fighting stance in an instant at the first hint of movement from the Heulorian. "You are right... We do dispatch our opponents quickly. Dancers, on the other hand..." The Kast only smirked even more, "Say what you will, but you are still no closer to your request, Raiker!" With that, the warrior leapt back into attack, bringing both his blades together into a straightforward but powerful attack, determined on smashing through any defense the woman could put up. Even if it was only a challenge for a kiss, he would still show no mercy and expected the same in return!