"Scylla!," he yelled at her. She held the sabers against his, but had faltered, and snorted shaking her head, and with that he had pushed her back and forced her arms up at the same time, hitting her in the face with her own weapon. She cried out as the saber burned across her right eye and leaving her temporarily blinded on that side she stumbled back, and wildly swung the saber in her right hand in front of her in an attempt to protect herself. But before she could complete the move he had swept out at her, catching her across her bicep and down her elbow. He managed to advance forward at the same time and had pulled the saber further down, gashing her lower thigh wide open. She had long since dropped her own weapon and groaned, trying to turn away to retreat a few steps to regain her lost ground. He took the opportunity and spun quickly moving low to the ground and swept the injured leg out from under her. He heard the ankle break with a satisfying crunch and she fell heavily to the ground.
Blood splashed everywhere as she fell, confusion had marked her face, but the eye that was left glared white rimmed and she growled at him.
"The Warlords' mighty Moff has fallen," he had smirked at her. "But then truly, is that even who you are? Your mind says otherwise. You've been tricked Syclla. Marca and Jarron have crippled your mind but still you serve them." He cocked his head as she rolled to sit up. "Such a pity, you are such a beautiful creature, wild and strong." He stopped and breathed in the scent of her pooling blood deeply. Grinning, he continued, "and ready to conceive." His guards had surrounded them as soon as she had fallen and he motioned for them to move her. "Take her to my quarters. Don't help her in anyway. I shall follow shortly." And with that the guards had grabbed Evil under her arms and not without fight, drug her to his quarters.