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Post by Lord Phantom Armageddon on Nov 17, 2015 6:46:48 GMT -8
Phantom strode into the massive room, his brother was delayed with who knows what but seeing as he wasn't by his side it could only mean that he was taken elsewhere either by force or pleasure. Mulling the idea over he shook it out of his head, his brother would cut himself away from whatever was bothering him soon enough. Speaking of cutting...
Turning to Ty he pulled a hilt from his belt, the dark metal seeming to absorb the light, only the honed edge of the blade gave it any real semblance of existing and yet a small trail of something on the blade hinted it was meant to cause pain, not kill
"I cannot be in here? This is my kriffing room, on MY KRIFFING SHIP!"
His voice rose to a thunder, the area around him seeming to darken and grow smaller as he rounded on her, the blade in his hand ready to slice into her, she had embarassed him in front of a meeting like a child, she did not know she had responsibilities when they reached the planet, all because she had run of...and for what...vitamins?
"You left me looking like an idiot in front of all of them for what? Medication? I have an army of droids for just that so no there better be one hell of an excuse for..."
A familiar tone caught his ear and he whirled on it, a hilt from his sleeve falling into his hand and igniting the blade at the source, the crimson glow of the saber bathing the room in a deep glow, casting shadows on his face, the gaunt scarred face many saw for the last time before they were dispatched from the universe. His teeth bared, rows of filed teeth that had torn villagers apart and yet all of this ferocity came to a head and he lowered his blade, his face contorted into one of confusion . A small robotic arm slid down his forearm and plucked the saber hilt from his hand and stowed it
He listened, noted that Ty moved and his free hand launched the blade with such ferocity that the hilt slammed into the back of the sofa cracking the frame, the blade completely through the back and the material of the sofa hissed softly from the steel corroding, and to think, that very blade was about to be used on her
Phantom's anger now replaced with confusion as he took a step forward, for him being of his stature and his known temper, he seemed tempered and level...for now
"Chel...how are...why...what are you doing here?"
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Tyrana Letta-Horica
Kumauri Industries
I'd kill you for a cookie
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Post by Tyrana Letta-Horica on Nov 17, 2015 9:42:09 GMT -8
The sound that came from Ty could only be described as "eep" as she narrowly avoided the blade as it protruded through the back of the sofa where she had just been standing. The last time she had seen him this angry was right before he had fought with Feral, and she had been wise to cower out of his way at that time. This time however.....
N-no!
The moment he spun towards Chel, Ty put herself in between the two of them, she was ready for whatever punishment came her way for ditching the meeting and standing between him and someone he might want to hurt.
I-I invited her! I thought it would be good for your grumpy ass to have some form of-
Chel stepped forward slipping a hand from her cloak and gently pressing it on Ty's shoulder. The two women shared a look before Ty stepped back to allow Chel to cautiously approach Phantom. Her presence was still masked, and her stature was that of one getting close to a dangerous animal, ready to get out of range at a moments notice.
Do not be mad at Tyra, she was merely trying to help me in my situation. Honestly i had every intention of keeping your wishes, but she thought it best I confront you.
She looked back at Ty standing just a couple of feet behind her seemingly looking worried about punishments to come, but it was clear Ty looked ready to put up some kind of fight.
If you are to take your anger out on anyone, let it be me. I just request you let me.... Again she looked back at Ty, as if getting strength to continue the conversation ... unburden myself before hand.
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Aysá
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Aysá on Nov 18, 2015 14:33:12 GMT -8
She watched both apprentice and the droid leave the room, one trailing slightly behind the other. They were an odd pairing; Nel and Belbe, even if they weren't quite a pair. The doors behind them closed with an audible hiss and Aysa turned to the two that remained of the original gathering. She shrugged lightly in response to Ver'metus' question about where she came from.
Ahakista was an unsuspecting planet hidden in the Outer Rim Territories, close enough to The Queen of the Core, Coruscant, to maintain good relations and far enough away for it to go relatively unnoticed for nye-on a millennia, but after the planet's near destruction at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong, those that survived the "cleansing" took up the old ways and began shutting themselves away from the galaxy and the horrors that existed within it. Nations fragmented, civil wars erupted and the last of the noble houses viciously fought each other for the scraps that the Vong had left behind. House Myral was one of these houses. Under the threat of annihilation, the Houses of Mehina, an island in the Kyanite Sea, formed the most unsteady of alliances and the mutated dictatorship was born.
Aysa returned to her seat and took a glass of water from the tray that was perched precariously on the outstretched arms of a serving droid. She was just about to answer when she glanced up at the ceiling. She felt the ship quiver and tremble for the slightest of seconds. Something was happening but she could neither tell where nor what. The sensations faded and the ship became still despite its hyperspace travel. She crossed one leg over the other and smoothed the fabric of her dress over her knee. She wondered how to describe her home planet and the secular nature of her people. She took a sip of her drink and answered with a smile.
"The Mytos Sector, I doubt you've heard of it. Very, very few people have."
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Stevan Stormro
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Stevan Stormro on Nov 19, 2015 22:17:12 GMT -8
Stormro merely shrugged in response to Ver'metus' criticism of his choice in apprentice. "Such methods may work for you Ver'metus; I, however, prefer to screen my apprentices before I choose them rather than beginning their training without being certain of their potential. Nel may seem weak but there is a potent seed of strength buried deep within her that I intend to cultivate until she blossoms into an apprentice who is worthy of my teachings; she is strengthened by adversity and every setback or difficulty pushes her towards new plateaus of power and capability. The damage done to her by the Jedi is severe, and you are correct that most Sith would simply write her off as a lost cause, but I have seen what she might become through the Force. Mark my words; once I have finished with her Nel shall be a potent Sith who can stand beside us as our equal..." He trailed off for a moment as he felt Phantom's rage fill the ship, one eyebrow raising in response before he continued. "And that is where our focus should be; on cultivating the future of our order so that our teachings and way of life endure beyond the spans of our lives. The Sith are dwindling in number across the galaxy as the Jedi hound our kind in a dogmatic hunt motivated by little more than blind hatred, yet I have seen few young Sith. You saw Phantom's apprentice just as I did; while I have no doubt that she is powerful she is alsp clearly undisciplined and out of control. Would you have such Sith serve as the heralds of our legacy? I sometimes feel that we Sith have become so focused on building our own power that we have forgotten to ensure that we have suitable heirs to inherit it should the worst happen..." Trailing off into thought for a moment, Stormro shook himself from his reverie a few moments later and shifted topics. "Regardless, it is a pleasure to be in the company of other Sith again after lurking in the shadows for so long; I must admit to having presumed that there were few who bore Kashyyyk's legacy left in the galaxy besides myself and Brimstone..." Though Stormro said nothing in response to Aysa's answer to Ver'metus' question he made sure to pay attention and filed away her answer should such information ever prove useful.
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Nel Bukk
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Nel Bukk on Nov 19, 2015 23:09:47 GMT -8
"Mark my words; once I have finished with her Nel shall be a potent Sith who can stand beside us as our equal..."
Nel blinked at those words, at the actual mention of her name by her Master as she entered the room again with the box in hand, unopened. Given how he continued, he must not have noticed her. That meant nothing to her, really, as she knew that unless he was focusing on her, he paid no attention to her at all. Not unless she messed up in a big way. It didn't help she had still kept herself small mentally. The Zabrak quietly took her spot again next to him and slid the box across the table for him. She hadn't even taken the time to clean up her face, she had been in such a rush to get what he had requested back to him. Blood still somewhat stained under her nose, and after she took her hand from the box, she wiped at the drying, itching the blood away as best as she was able. Phantom's anger rolled over her and it took a lot to suppress the shudder and the further withdrawal into her own mind. Phantom wasn't mad at her, but someone else. "Master."
The word was said merely to draw his attention to the fact she was back and had gotten what he had requested. She swallowed, trying to shake off the anger. She focused her attention on what her Master was saying instead, her fingers coiling in her lap now as she waited for him to conduct his business. Her mind wandered some, though, wondering what was in the box, and her shoulders squared with tension as her mind thought of more and more possibilities, none of which she really liked.
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Post by Ver'metus on Nov 20, 2015 15:13:14 GMT -8
*Ver'metus nods respectfully.*
Each Master has their own ways. I am not going to label myself a Sith'ari, you don't need my approval to teach your way. Every sith lord will extract strength in the way they see fit. As far as the cull the Jedi are on. Let them hunt. To long have many claimed to be "Sith," "Dark Lords," and "Sith'ari;" When in fact, very few are worthy of the titles they claim. Those strong enough to survive the cull are ones worthy of such claim. Those that die, only serve to prove me right. I hold no sympathy for those that fall.
*Ver'metus frowns and then smiles darkly as he felt the anger of Phantom spreading, he couldn't hold back the chuckle as he knew someone was in for some pain.*
I do not believe that was an apprentice.. at least.. if she were... it will not be for long.. I seen how he trained Geist and Zadea. He would not tolerate that behavior. He was almost as strict as Feral himself at times. Though I found his judgement better then the old Sith'ari. Well, I will likely go mad before the inevitable ever gets to me.
*Ver'metus turns his attention back to Aysa.*
Hmmm.. The Mytos Sector? Mytos Sector... I've not heard it in a long time...I do believe you misjudge how old I am and how much I've seen.. That would go back to my days flying as a smuggler.. before every coming upon the Kashyyyk Academy... Way back into the days of the Empire. Is it not the Mytos Sector where the Daystar Casino was located? And "The Hub?" And then once ran The Belt. Mind you, i much prefer my freighter to TIE's...
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Post by Zadea Ordo on Nov 20, 2015 15:33:00 GMT -8
*Zadea upon getting to her feet had set into an aggressive stance to strike out again, she was not about to get surprised again and put under more chemicals or poisons. Should would fight and die if she had to. Upon the man before her saying they were friends she took a step backward becoming more defensive in her confusion as she eyes him closely.*
Friends..? Who...
*She frowns as she slowly starts easing herself out of her fighting stance, her brow furrowed as she looked him up and down, after a moment the realization came to her, she hadn't seen him in a very long time, but the features became familiar.*
Ferinus.
*The woman lunges forwards, awkward and unsteadily, in an attempt to wrap her arms around him in an embrace.*
I had assumed you were dead..
*She frowns again as she felt the extreme anger spread about the place, she looks up at Ferinus confused. The last time she had felt waves of anger from him that intense it had been directed at her. Probably because she'd be laxing off instead of training, or maybe it was when she'd drove teh tank into the Cantina he had loved visiting so much..*
Now...who would make him that angry..?
*She had bit her lip softly, a trait she had been quite known for, as she leaned on him, more for support then to be next to him, she was unstable as if she hadn't used her body in a long time. She was not one to ask for help in normal cases.*
I am definitely not one for Med bays, needles, and especially med droids. I will not suffer this place a moment longer.
*The more words left her mouth the more confident they sounded. At her last words, Ferinus would know she'd made her mind up and as stubborn as she was there would be no changing it, unless they chained her and a ysalmari to the table. She stood, and took a step to walk towards the door, upon which she stumbled and fell into him again, which draws a low growl from her throat. She let out a long exasperated sigh as she looked up at him dejectedly.*
If you would be so kind... I would take my leave of this accursed room.
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Post by Lord Ferinus Corsai on Nov 25, 2015 9:39:34 GMT -8
**Ferinus never relaxed his stance until he witnessed the dawning of recognition in her eyes. The twists of lightning snaking around his left hand dissipated as he stepped toward her, chuckling softly.**
"No, not dead. Haven't done that in a good, long while. At this point in my life, I determined some deep exploration into the Outer Rim was necessary and then....well...that's a long story best shared over an ale and not in a med bay."
**The Sith Lord suddenly started where he stood, blinking several times. He felt a great wave of anger breach through the Force and in an instant he knew it was Phantom's anger. Ferinus knew well enough that whenever his brother became this angry....bulkheads were at great risk.**
"Oh, Kriff Me."
**Ferinus walked forward and received Zadea, taking her arm and bridging it over his shoulders. His finger continued to bleed, which he allowed. Should any contaminant have been on that needle, he would rather it drip onto the med bay floor.**
"I would very much like to know how you ended up in this state, Zadea. I've known you long enough to know it would take a great force indeed to put you on a slab. But, for now, I would highly advise fresh air and slow movement. Nourishment as well."
**The Sith cocked a crooked grin at the woman as he heard her voice already growing stronger. He was not about to deny her the chance to get out.**
"You shall have your leave and you're picking up the first drink. That's the reward your little prick in my finger has garnered you. For now, let us see what has gotten Phantom so perturbed he may just destroy the very ship we're living in."
**Ferinus supported Zadea through the door and into Phantom's chamber. Once those doors slid open and the entire scene lay before him, the Sith Lord froze in his tracks. Hi onyx eyes took in everything as he continued to support Zadea.**
"Oh dear brother, our patient has awoken! And it appears that you....you're..."
**Ferinus trailed off as he looked at the couch and a rather tense Tyrana. So this is the help she was wanting from him. That was a very large blade embedded in the furniture. Sooooooooo things were going well, then.**
"Phantom, that was a lovely couch. What a waste. You know, there certainly are far more effective ways to...........Chel?! What in the name of Bane?? Are you alright??"
**The Sith Lord shifted his shoulder under Zadea, trying to prop her up more. He gazed at the woman he hadn't seen in a long while, absolutely perplexed as to what the hell was going on.**
"Is there anyone else on this ship I should know about, Phantom? Is Sinistra going to walk in behind me? Is Stormacht hiding in the closet? Did you happen to resurrect my dear, sweet old Vitiosus, by chance?"
**Ferinus felt humor was the best course of action.**
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Post by Lord Phantom Armageddon on Nov 26, 2015 16:07:32 GMT -8
Still slightly taken aback by the appearance of Chel and his anger at literally everything at this point, his psychosis picked this moment to pick at his thoughts.
It would be so easy, kill them. There is nothing to loose and don't you have a ship to take somewhere? Take over a planet? Clearly these distractions aren't helping either of us here, with the right angle, she would drop and not feel anything. As for the little one hiding back there, you can always launch her in an escape pod and use it for target practice.
Wrestling with his thoughts, right arm at the elbow had two latches that pulled back and the upper arm slid rods down, the middle of the forearm spinning back with the hand retracting. The length from the forearm pushed down and locked into a joint at the elbow and the area where the wrist would be was open until the blade burst forth from the center. The thick steel was honed to a wicked edge with the thickest steel at the back to add weight when slicing. The blade was close enough to resemble a Sith tremor sword yet was highly modified to fold into his arm and be used as a concealed sword not just a small blade. The length of the blade went from the wrist to his hip. The entire transformation of his arm took less than 20 seconds and the cortosis lace seemed to shimmer slightly as the blade vibrated at a high rate.
Before he could reply the doors to his room opened and he spun, his arm raised slightly. As his brother and former apprentice walked in he cracked his neck, the stress of everything was slowly feeding the psychosis that had lay dormant within. He bit off a retort to his brother and apprentice and turned back to Chel and Ty before walking to her and slid the flat end of the blade under her neck
"There had better be a reason you smuggled yourself here, the shields would have to have been lowered and expose us and Ty will suffer for that as well but what is it that you need to...unburden yourself with?"
His words were cold, biting, and laced with fury. His left arm reached within his cloak and pulled a T-6 heavy blaster pistol, the barrel was shortened and the usual vents around the barrel were instead long cyclops vents which allowed the pistol to be thinner and dissipate the heat more efficiently. It had no scope and in place were tactical ironsights and at this range to Ty, it would kill her no matter where it landed
"Choose your words carefully because you both have put everyone on this ship at risk with your sneaking around and I will have either a satisfied truth or I will have your lives"
Maybe make an example of the cowering one, save her for when we touch down and use her as a demonstration of what happens to those who defy your order
Shaking his head he cracked his neck and looked back at them, his eyes seeming to have changed, the right eye swiveling independently and locked onto Ty, never letting her out of his sight while his organic left kept on Chel
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Tyrana Letta-Horica
Kumauri Industries
I'd kill you for a cookie
Posts: 231
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Post by Tyrana Letta-Horica on Nov 26, 2015 18:07:59 GMT -8
Chel saw Phantom seeming to contemplate his next actions ans she took a small step back, nodding briefly to Ferinus as he entered the room. Turning her body slightly into a protective stance as Phantom advanced on her, she took a quick breath. But her moving wasn't enough to keep his blade from cutting through her cloak and into her skin. The cloak fell away as blood began to pour from the new cut, but Chel did nothing to protect herself, she stood holding something away from Phantom in her arms. Her eyes never leaving his.
I asked Ty to find you, because I thought you would want to know this important thing.
She moved the protective arm from over the bundle to reveal an infant, whimpering slightly as it looked up at Chel with amethyst eyes. Without breaking her gaze from Phantom, Chel gently stroked the head of red hair that the child was already sporting.
Ty is not to blame in this, she is merely the over excited aunt. I was quite reluctant to bring her here, I was not sure how..... you would react. Now I see I was wise to use caution.
Finally looking down to the small baby in her arms, she smiled rather sadly.
Phantom, this is your daughter.... her name- Now Chel really hesitated, in the state Phantom was in he might begin a rampage at the next bit of information... Chel knew this was a lot to take in, and after all Tyra had told her, she could see that he was already stressed enough.... but Chel took a deep breath and looked back up at her distant lover Her name is Ci'anne....
Ty had frozen the instant Phantom had trained the gun on her, but the as soon as she saw the amount of blood gushing from the wound on Chel's neck, she decided to risk being shot to crouch down and rip the ruined cloak at the ground to shreds to press against the cut. This was not how she had pictured the reunion of these two at all. She couldn't let Chel take the fall for this even if she was trying to shoulder the responsibility.
Big Brother, I found out about Ci a few months ago.... I went to Chel when she gave birth. She had reached out to me when she was near delivery because she didn't want to burden you with it. But-.... But I was the one that told her to bring the little one here....
This would be a low blow, trying to bring Phantom to a calm by playing the pitiful "younger sister" but Ty could only think of one thing in this instance...
Phantom... you know my story.... I don't want that for her....
Ty looked to Feri in the doorway as she pressed the cloth to Chel's neck and looked rather sad, slowly returning her eyes up to her brother she sighed and shrugged
I never knew a caring and loving father.... I know Phantom that you're not the type, but i thought maybe-.... maybe if you just saw the little nugget you might.....
At the moment Ty said "nugget" which had kind of become her nickname for the child, Ci'anne looked up to Phantom, her round eyes open with wonder. Chel had dropped the facade of hiding herself and the child as soon as the cloak had dropped. And now Phantom would feel a small presence pushing against him in curiousity, completely unaware of the danger she was in.
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Aysá
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Aysá on Dec 3, 2015 7:44:42 GMT -8
You could have picked anywhere in the Myto System, Dubrillion or Gabredor but somehow you managed to pick out the one tiny backwater planet where I’m actually from. I am impressed by your knowledge though. Many people overlooked Ahakista; overshadowed by the larger planets for obvious reasons until the Vong took a liking to it.
Aysa smiled weakly; remembering the havoc and chaos brought about by the Vong, the death and needless suffering. She’d be taught about it as a child though it was her parents and their parents before them that lived through the true horrors of the war. She sipped her drink and drummed her long nails against the side of the glass.
The last time I saw “The Hub” it was little more than overgrown rubble. The place was decimated during the war and the people were so consumed with fighting each other for scraps that they just didn’t find the time to rebuild it. It’s still part of some heavily contested dispute I believe, but that may well have changed since I was last there.
As Stormro spoke about being amongst real Sith, she silently questioned her own true ability. Granted she had completed her training, killing her Master and fully embracing the Darkside as any true apprentice should but she wasn’t battle hardened and scarred as the rest appeared to be. She wasn’t as broken and put together again. She was damaged no doubt but she hadn’t endured the months or perhaps years of torture the others no doubt suffered. She shook her head to herself and smiled at the two others.
The evening has certainly been enlightening and the company different to what I’m used to, of that there is no doubt. You two are certainly a step up from the thieves, smugglers and general assholes that I’m used to.
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Stevan Stormro
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Stevan Stormro on Dec 5, 2015 20:06:45 GMT -8
Stormro merely nodded with a slight smile as Nel made her presence known, turning slightly to glance in her direction as he allowed the topic of his and Ver'metus' different opinions on training methods to end. "Ah, excellent; steward that case until we are able to partake in our training duel. Oh, and do be careful with it; the contents of that case could pay for a small starship and I should very much like to not be forced to acquire a replacement..." With that he turned his attention back to the others, chuckling warmly at Aysa's comment. "I should certainly hope so Aysa; if nothing else I take pride in serving as a steward of civilization and intellectual pursuits in a galaxy preoccupied with the trivial and the mundane. To be Sith is to constantly be pushing oneself in order to improve and while many Sith interpret that to apply purely to martial pursuits and raw power I have come to learn that in such an approach to our faith far too many Sith bind themselves in the very chains which they seek to break. To merely push yourself physically and martially while blindly reciting Sith rhetoric makes one little more than a weapon to be wielded and enslaves you to the will of whoever you serve. Yet, in spite of this, too many so-called Sith fall prey to such folly, thus stunting the evolution of our order and wasting vast amounts of potential in the process..." He trailed off, his tone having shifted to his usual neutral inflection devoid of any telling signs of emotion as he spoke. After a moment, however, he spoke again, the diplomatic warmth returning to his voice in the process. "But enough of philosophy; I must agree that I have become accustomed to the company of individuals of...lesser caliber myself of late. That was, in fact, a part of why I brought my apprentice to this little gathering; her only preexisting perceptions of what the Sith are come from the lies told by the Jedi Order and I felt that it would be beneficial to her training to be able to see the truth of the matter with her own eyes."
He paused for a moment, his gaze shifting more directly to Aysa as he continued. "I must admit, however, that you yourself have been one of the most interesting aspects of this gathering Aysa. Far too often we Sith become distant from those who lack our connection to the Force and training, resulting in those outside of our order receiving little in the way of acknowledgement or respect. It is refreshing to see that such does not seem to be the case here..." As he trailed off he gently expanded his sphere of influence, keeping his actual presence in the Force muted to the point of being all but imperceptible, until he very gently brushed against the edges of Aysa's mind. The contact was slight, only overlapping enough to allow communication through thought, and in no way probed anywhere near deep enough to try and glean anything from her mind. With that gentle brush of contact, however, his voice spoke softly in her mind. "I do hope that you will forgive my forwardness in attempting to make such a connection Miss Aysa, but I must admit to being somewhat curious about your background and I felt that a private conversation would be more...appropriate. Initial perceptions would suggest that you are a shrewd businesswoman and operator, with ties to the criminal underworld and a wealth of experience operating within such an environment. However, while that is indeed a valuable set of skills and experiences, I get the sense that there is far more to you than initial impressions would imply. You were able to rebuff the efforts of a potent Sith Lord to probe the vaults of your mind, implying that you have training of some sort. Whether that comes from some sort of governmental special forces training or something...more, however, is a detail which I shall not press you for should you not wish to discuss it. I will say, however, that in the...unlikely circumstance that you are actually sensitive to the Force and have received some formal training in our ways that I am more than willing to lend my experience and intellect should you wish to pursue such training further..." The word "unlikely" was spoken in such a way that it was obviously meant to blunt the direct nature of his statement, rather than to actually imply that she was not sensitive to the Force and trained. It was a wording meant to allow her the choice of continuing the topic of conversation or not, while also making it clear that he suspected that she was Force sensitive and trained to some extent. Regardless, he kept the connection open from his end to allow her to respond even if she could not do so directly through the Force. "Too many Sith students end up falling through the cracks, either due to their masters dying, being cast aside due to failing to meet expectations, or due to a variety of other factors, and I consider myself to be a shepherd of sorts who can guide such lost students back onto the path should they wish it."
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Nel Bukk
Kumauri Industries
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Post by Nel Bukk on Dec 7, 2015 14:55:53 GMT -8
Nel quietly slid the box back towards herself, his warning sitting heavily on her as she put it in her lap, which was the best place she could think to protect it at the moment. The high cost of its contents made her adrenaline spike as her imagination went into overdrive as to what exactly was in the case she now had in her care. She swallowed back her nerves as best she could, too tired emotionally to really try and hide it anymore as she merely listened to what the more... accomplished individuals had to say. She was merely an observer, taking in all of the information that was being presented and tucking it away somewhere in her mind for later. One never knew when knowledge would be useful, and on top of that, the young Zabrak liked to learn as much as she good. Granted, much of that was a need to read and learn that way, but other methods were equally important. She said nothing though, merely nodding to Aysa as the other woman finished speaking.
It had been an interesting evening, after all, even if she had been merely listening and keeping her head down as best as she could. Trickles of fear edged in on her as her mind still played with what could have been in the box, but she tried not to pay any attention to the emotion. Fear was useless to her right now, and would only make her a further target if her Master took notice of it. That was something she didn't want right now. Nel needed time to think, to process, to figure out where she went wrong and how not to do it again. The problem had been she had let loose her tongue when she had been told not to, and she inwardly cringed at the mistake. She was still learning her place, it seemed. Perhaps silence would be her best friend in the future, as her talking only led to punishment in one form or another. She glanced to Stormro as he fell silent, surprised at the momentary quiet. She wanted to say something, but she held her tongue. The apprentice hadn't been spoken to, and so she dared not say a word again. No amount of words was worth pain, or another visit with the table's top.
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Krzesimir Viggo
The First Order
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Post by Krzesimir Viggo on Dec 9, 2015 23:32:10 GMT -8
A catastrophic hyperspace accident obliterates Pawn as he departs the Ison system, leaving no traces of the already illusive character... Pawn is dead, two down two to go.
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Post by Ver'metus on Dec 10, 2015 15:56:09 GMT -8
Ver'metus let a smile cross his dark face, as he again refilled his drink. He nods respectively at Aysa.*
Well, when you get to be around as many years as I, you find there the spots that are only whispered about, spots that most would overlook. Knowledge is Power.
Vong...
The sith rolls his left shoulder and his left hand clenched, even his voice as he says the word seem to drip with hate. It was no secret what Ver'metus thought of those foul creatures, his prostetics in his face, arm and shoulder could be factors that remind him constantly of that hate.*
...the Ji'dai almost compare to the foul creatures.
*Ver'metus nods his agreeance with the two of them.*
Well, when i ran into Ferinus and Phantom on Kaminoo I did not expect all of this to say the least.
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Post by Zadea Ordo on Dec 10, 2015 16:08:15 GMT -8
*It was not common practice for Zadea to ask for help, the only one she knew of to be more stubborn was her daughter. She smiles weakly at Ferinus and nods to him. Her once long hair now short cropped about her chin.*
Well...by the sense of the force right now... we should be more worried about Phantom then my state...
She frowned at him.*
The first round...well.. I guess I did stab you.. but it was only a finger... I was aiming higher...
*She walks with him gently, she knew she was still dealing with the aftereffects of stasis, but the last thing she wanted to see was med droids again. She frowns as they entered the room to see the scene about them. She was not in the shape for witty comments that Ferinus had chosen. She herself responded as she normally would, scanning the room and seeing what was going on and accessing the place to the finest detail. Her pointed ears perked at the words aunt, and child. She couldn't understand it, or why, but she felt a spark of anger rise up in herself, her arm not clung to Ferinus for support, reached around behind him to grip the hilt of one of his sabers, she put more weight on her own two feet, her focus entirely on the infant as she unclipped the hilt from Ferinus' belt. Every mucsle in her body coiled like a nexu about to strike. She was wordless as her eyes momentarily darted between Phantom and the two women opposite the room.*
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Post by Lord Ferinus Corsai on Dec 10, 2015 21:20:02 GMT -8
**Ferinus' onyx eyes nearly doubled in size as Chel revealed.....a baby.
A kriffing baby.
Phantom's baby.
......Phantom's.....baby.**
"Ho.....ly....Kriff," he muttered.
**The Sith Lord knew this had the potential to go somewhere very, very bad. He knew now was the time for action. His eyes darted from Chel to Ty, his mind reaching out to theirs, feeling their trepidation...and yet their courage as well. Finally, Ferinus shot his presence into Phantom's mind as well. He grimaced and shut his eyes. He knew what Phantom's particular brand of psychosis felt like and this....this was not good.
However, with Ferinus momentarily distracted by his efforts through the Force, he felt a hand reach around his lower back and unclip his saber. His eyes snapped open and in one fluid motion, his free hand not supporting Zadea shot to her wrist, pinning it in the air.**
"Excuse me. That. Is not. Yours."
**He plucked it out of her hand and clipped it back to his side, aiming his thoughts directly into her mind for emphasis.**
<<As much as I have always admired your gumption, Zadea, you should not exacerbate what is clearly, clearly a very delicate situation. Please do your best to recover from your stasis a bit more quickly.>>
**With that, Ferinus sighed and shook his head. A baby with amethyst eyes. The entire scene was far, far, far too familiar. That was one portion of his past he did not want to revisit. But this was Phantom's child now and Ferinus had a pretty good notion as to what his brother was about to undergo."
"I'm getting too old for this poodoo."
**Ferinus knew now was the time for placation. He led Zadea over to the nearest undamaged piece of furniture in the room.**
"Alright, Zadea, I'm taking you over here now. Sit down. Careful, now."
**Next, he spun on his heel and walked toward his brother slowly. His right hand hovered over the sheathed Sith Blade on his belt. He came around to Phantom's side, prepared to place himself between his brother and the women should the Sith's psychosis prove to be overwhelming. He held out his left hand and spoke evenly.**
"As much as I've always been in favor of bloodlust and the consequent shedding of said blood, in the interest of self-preservation and the preservation of our rather motley crew before our grand mission has even begun, I believe a few deep breaths would be highly advisable."
**This would be something Ferinus would talk to Phantom about at length. Later. Over lots of alcohol. For now, defusing was the top priority....and defusing Phantom while he was in this state would take nothing short of a Herculean effort. The Sith Lord aimed a glance Tyrana's way and nodded to Chel and the baby, as if silently instructing her to make a break for it should the situation call for that.
Then, he stared Phantom down. From one father to another.**
"Chel is going to need more medical attention than she's currently receiving. I can take her, Tyrana and the...."
**Ferinus' eyes darted toward the child and back up again.**
"....Little....Nugget....back to the med bay whilst you stay here and....digest this information....and try not to do anything that would break the ship."
**The Dark Side pulsed within Ferinus. He and Phantom had come to so many planet-shattering duels before. He would be ready.**
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Post by Lord Phantom Armageddon on Dec 11, 2015 18:28:47 GMT -8
His mind racing, the psychosis was something only his brother knew about and it was feeding off the anger. He noted just who was in the room but at this point it was beyond his care or concern
Seeing his brother walk closer and hearing him talk snapped his gaze from the infant and women to his brother, the smoldering eyes fixated on him while the sith runes along the sides of his head seemed to glow blue from under the white hair. His body turned, the blade catching the light at the intrustion of his brother and turned it towards Ferinus, a deep growl resonating from his chest
Self preservation was a good point, tearing this ship apart was not good for anyone and especially not good for him even his psychosis knew that
You are lucky brother that you have a modicum of logic to offer and that you are here.
Taking a deep breath as his arm began to change, the blade retracting as the psychosis began to subside, the fire within his eyes seeming to dull and the sith runes along his head under his head began to fade until they were gone. The arm folding around and sliding back as the wrist locked back into place and he stepped forward, his towering presence inches from his brother as he poked his robotic hand into the chest of his brother and he leaned in whispering to his brother
Take them out of my sight and get them all to the medical bay or whatever you need to do, take them all away from me before I change and bathe in their blood
With that, he turned on his heel, his massive boots taking him to a side room where the doors slid up and to the side before he walked through, he passed right past the unit he uses for quick armament and disarmament and with a furious roar slammed his fist into the side wall making it buckle under the force of the hit before going to sit on a long sofa and cradled his head in his hands
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Tyrana Letta-Horica
Kumauri Industries
I'd kill you for a cookie
Posts: 231
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Tyrana Letta-Horica on Dec 12, 2015 12:52:35 GMT -8
Ty could see that Zadea was giving Ferinus some form of trouble concerning his lightsaber over by the door, but knew that he had the situation under control. It was good to see Zadea again, she couldn't remember the last time they had been in the same room with each other. As Ferinus deposited the recent medbay escapee onto the sofa, she made brief eye contact with him before returning her full attention to the one losing his cool. She didn't dare open her mouth at this point, sensing there was a danger that this could turn into a blood bath. Holding the scrap material over Chel's wound, she looked briefly at her and cursed inwardly seeing how pale Chel was becoming.
Suddenly, Ferinus was approaching her Big Brother like one would a wounded animal, calmly and slowly, talking him down and trying to distract him from the two newcomers. The tense moment passed as Phantom turned to Ferinus and then stormed off and Ty seemed to relax slightly, though still on guard. Beside her she felt Chel relax slightly as well before turning to Tyra with a sigh, handing her the baby.
Tyra be a dear and go with Lord Ferinus to the medbay with Ci'anne. I am afraid the young one does not do well with space travel and I fear she might be falling ill. It was moronic of me to keep her from the medbay upon arrival to begin with...
As Ty began to argue, Chel held up her hand to quiet her, and then offered a soft smile to Ferinus and a nod to Zadea. She hadn't seen Ferinus since he was last on Gyndine, but she could tell he was just as self driven as ever. He would notice as well that in their years apart, Chel had aged some, but she still held the fire in her eyes that had always been there.
Ferinus it is good to see you, it has been too long... But no. I will not go to the medbay until Lord Phantom wishes it. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I learned long ago when with him that it is best to wait for permission.
By this she of course meant the time she had overstepped her bounds and learned a valuable lesson in humility from the brooding man next door. She still had scars and a numbness in her right hand to prove that.
I will wait here. I trust he still keeps the wine cabinet stocked?
There was no fear in her eyes, only tireness as she gazed at the little one in Ty's arms, she would wait for Phantom to calm, and then have a civilized conversation. Pressing a clean cloth to her wound she smiled to Ty with another nod.
If any harm comes to her I'll kill you, you realize that yes?
It was quite unclear at this point who she was speaking to, it could have been either three in the room. She turned from them and went to pour herself a glass of wine from the liquor cabinet
Ty nodded to Chel and turned to Ferinus with a look he would never have seen before in her eyes, as if challenging him to try and harm the child. Ty had never been so protective of another living being in her entire life. And yet here in this moment, the small, statured girl looked as fierce as ever any in the room would ever have seen her.
Be careful Lady Chel, I like you, you're good for him... but.....
Her eyes trailed to the door that Phantom had just exited through and she gave a visible shiver
Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that anger....
She looked back at Feri and smiled brightly with a hint of mischief.
Let's go get Ci taken care of so I can wipe the floor with you as soon as we get this whole ordeal over with.
Her eyes became serious again and she bit her lip and leaned in towards him, speaking in a low tone.
And perhaps you could fill me in on the meeting so when Big Brother does come around I'll be able to not be beaten as badly, yes?
She gave a glance back to Chel and bit her lip, reaching out her mind she gently touched with Ferinus
Perhaps you could convince her to come with us? She looks like she could drop at any moment....
Ty turned her silver eyes to Zadea occupying the sofa and cracked a bright smile
Hey Zady! I've missed you, but you'll forgive me if I don't come over won't you? seeing your reaction doesn't exactly make me want to let you close to the kid.
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Deleted
Deleted Member
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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2015 20:09:36 GMT -8
The blast doors opened, and Dante squinted into the gloom. His eyes, sensitive to ultraviolet as they were, worked even in low light. The inky blackness with their purplish ultraviolet hues, framing the light the doorway permitted,was a testament to the absolute darkness that Dante peered into. Walking forward, the doors slid shut behind him, grating on their tracks, till at last, with a groan, they locked themselves once more - the darkness now complete. Out of the blackness, a voice spoke, old, soft, like velvet sliding on air, more dream than sound, whispering through the air. “Flesh and faith sustains him, lies and deceptions shape him, rage and fury befriend him. But it’s fear, and only fear, that understands him. The fear leads him to anger, the anger leads him to hate, and the hate, leads him to suffering. And it is suffering that defines us…”
A shaft of brilliant red, dark as blood, boiled forth with a hiss as a lightsaber was activated. Transforming the gloom into a hazy half light, the nightmarish red glow nevertheless struggled to penetrate the entirety of the darkness, as if the light itself was reluctant to reach the center of the chamber. From what Dante could see, though, the chamber was plain, drab, with black floors, gray walls, and architecture in the typical Imperial fashion. A man stood towards the back of the room, where the darkness was thickest, where the red light seemed to fade - even though by all rights the saber in his hand should illuminate him completely, and even without the force Dante could feel the Dark side pulse and coil, ebb and flow, like oil in the air, clinging to every surface, seeping into the cracks, filling the pores and matting the hair. The man moved slightly, and like water breaking on a rock, the darkness seemed to ripple and pull back, permitting light to illuminate him.
Aged skin, wrinkled, dry and thin as parchment. Its luster gone; the sun of youth waning as the moon of age waxed. Hair fell in a mane to thin shoulders, cascading like liquid silver, somehow coarse as straw, yet luminescent. Thin bluish lips were slightly open, revealing dulled teeth yellowed and rotting with age, striking in their contrast to the bone white of the mans skin. Features thin, sharp, strained, as if the man was wasting away under his bone white skin. indeed, his entire body seemed stretched, pulled, with networks of bluish and faintly pulsing veins clearly visible even from a distance. But it was his eyes; it was his eyes that betrayed him. Sunken into their sockets, the whites gone black, one could scarcely see those orbs from the matte circles around his eyes, from the bruised bluish purple bags that hung under his eyes, from the pulsing of black veins that spiderwebbed out from those abyssal sockets. They were but two black craters, a faint glittering of pupils the only thing to struggle out - like that of an animal caught in the light. The creature smiled widely, yellowed teeth framing black tongue, skeletal arms beckoning to Dante - but it was those eyes, those eyes, glinting out of the darkness, unblinking, penetrating, rage and hate and madness swirling in their depths, that had Dante taking a step backward.
Because he knew those eyes. Dante understood those eyes. Dante was afraid, nay, TERRIFIED of those eyes. Dante took another step backward; and another, and another - the dull thump of heel against the door behind him - and still he tried to step back. Anything for distance, anything for space. THIS was the Moff? THIS was Gideon Warr? No. No...this was no Imperial. This was a trap. Had there even BEEN a Moff in the first place? No; they had played right into this...things...hands. They had sprung the trap. The air was heavy as lead, pushing him down, choking him, too thick to breathe, heavy, crushing. Dante’s hands scrabbled against the door controls, the creature seeming to fill the room in his mind, but it was those eyes, those EYES. Rage and madness swirled in their depths, swirling and swirling, down, down into the abyss, into the blackness. The black eyes filled the room, the light a thin band on the edge of vision, a forgotten reality in the void. He could feel it, like a film on the skin, an oil, seeping into his pores, clouding his eyes, filling his lungs. The glittering eyes in the darkness, tiny diamonds in the void, burning with madness, burning with rage. Burning, consuming; Dante’s rage was but a candle compared to the infinite expanse and consuming reality of the glittering eyes in the void. His anger a fleeting whisper against a chorus of an eternity of the damned and vengeful. His bloodlust a mere drop of crimson in the ocean of ichor whose name was death.
In the inferno of the glittering eyes, there was no Dante, there was only ascension. Ascension to an incomprehensible definition of pain and suffering. The fire burning through his mind, sorting through information like picking cards from a deck, piecing things relevant to its hate together, one strand of thought at a time. Roots of fire were laid down, tendrils, creeping, crawling, growing, penetrating through the remainder of consciousness. Then roots pulled, ripping, tearing, peeling, each neuron straining and then breaking, bringing fresh agony anew, till every memory was spent, every sensation worn to the breaking, the body nothing more than a conduit to continue the existence of the glittering eyes. Dante’s vision faded, merciful unconsciousness finding him…
And he knew no more.
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It had been a long trip in the cargo freighter from Bespin to the Syndicate station, and it had taken more than a few mind tricks to get stored in a module that was bound for the station. Force induced hibernation and keen senses to his surroundings were the only thing that had let him survive in that near airless compartment, and Xanathane, for one, was glad the trip was over. That was the relatively easy part. Xanathane knew he had one chance, and one chance only to stop the evil on the station. He had hedged his bets; he could attack now, and fight his way through hundreds of soldiers, or, he could wait for the inevitable arrival of the smugglers and Dante, and slip unnoticed in the chaos that ensued. Xanathane chose to wait. He couldn’t be sure of the power that slept here, and reinforcements, even as minor as a distraction, could be all the difference between success and death.
He had shrunk his force presence accordingly, meditating, biding his time. When the air swirled with chaos, pain, and confusion, he knew the time was upon him. He had surged out of his trance, activated his lightsaber, cut his way out of the module and into the cargo bay, and slipped into the chaos. He took every step to keep his presence as small as possible, to give the evil as little time as possible to prepare. It had been a simple matter really, following the trail of destruction wrought by his golden charge - and, all too soon, he was before a massive blast door.
Xanathane’s hand rose, the force surged, the panel sparked; the locked doors slowly slid open, to reveal…
To reveal an empty dark room, and the Firrerreo, poor Dante, huddled in a corner, eyes rolling, mouth frothing amidst gnashing teeth, his golden face cast into a rictus of absolute terror. So total, so complete was the transformation, that for a full moment Xanathane wasn’t even sure it had been the same person that he had shared minds with earlier. The Firrerreo’s eyes suddenly rolled into his head, his golden form slumped into unconsciousness, released, finally, from its torment. Xanathane started towards him, but then stopped in his tracks. Something shifted; a current of air, an inaudible creak of deck plating. The hairs on Xanathane’s neck stood on end, and suddenly, he understood. It wasn’t an empty room. There was something else here. He spun, the lightsaber in his hand hissing to life; it wasn’t Xanathane’s blade though, rather, it was the almost nauseating bluish green cyan blade that the Firrerreo had used in their fight on Bespin. Garish light splashed across the shadows, failing to penetrate them, as if they had physical substance, and something, a dark shape, retreated deeper. A voice spoke, old, quiet, whispering - oil on water, barely audible, yet filling the room. “Oh, that blade. That blade. Did you recognize your old blade, my old apprentice?”
Xanathane turned, the saber weaving, searching; the voice was formless though, directionless, impossible to locate. Xanathane shifted the blade into a low guard, his brow furrowing, sweat beading. Xanathane’s eyes closed, he centered himself, calmed himself. He let the force wash over him, penetrating him, guiding him. His eyes could be deceived, but the force could not. As his eyes opened, he was centered in the light. The darkness shrank, was pushed back - but not defeated - and the thing in the dark hissed. His mouth quirking, Xanathane pointed at the darkness with his blade. “Oh, I recognized it. But when it was taken I was but a novice, distraught by his masters turn to the darkness. The blade rests in the hand of a master now, old teacher, and you’d be wise to remember that.”
The hissing whisper spat back a retort, filled with rage and spite. “A master of a sting-beetle hill is still a master of nothing!” Out of the darkness, the skeletal creature moved into the light and towards Xanathane, the darkness dissipating, its hate rising, teeth gnashing, spittle flying. “Master ‘Jedi’ indeed! You presume to come here to MY domain? To interfere with how I treat MY servant?!” A skeletal arm jerked, and a thin lightsaber fell out of the beings sleeve, a pure red blade hissing forth. “Too long have you interfered with MY plans. This time, you don’t have a guardian to save you, old student!”
“Arcturus’ sacrifice was not in vain, foul creature.” Said Xanathane, his eyes widening at the sight of the creature - no, of the monster. Leveling his blade at the thing, Xanathane’s lip curled, his face twisting into a look of pure revulsion; sadly, half pity and half disgust, he shook his head. “I was wrong. You aren’t my teacher. What was left of him was consumed long ago.” Xanathane brought his blade up into a guard, nodding his head at the golden Firrerreo in the corner. “All the better that HE is the last legacy of my dead master. What do you call yourself, demon, that I might know what to put on your grave.”
The creature hissed, jaw slowly opening and then snapping shut with a clack of yellowed fangs. “I am Darth Sidus, and you are one hundred years too late to kill ME. I’ve gotten what I’ve needed from that forsaken THING in the corner. My powers are released, and I will bring every sentient thing in this galaxy to its KNEES!” The creature screamed, the scream of an animal, and it charged forward, blade slashing to meet Xanathanes.
Xanathane, in the bare moments before the two closed in battle, set his jaw and prepared himself, a single lament escaping his lips before sabers crossed. “How far you’ve fallen my old master; how far you’ve fallen.”
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Dimly, Dante was aware of the buzzing and hissing of lightsabers, of the gleeful laughter of the skeleton man, of the platitudes of the Jedi. But only just so. For his mind was free, for the first time in a decade, it was FREE. Free of the chains and bindings of control, free of lies and deceptions. For the first time in decades, the firrerreo knew where the lies ended and the truth began…and he REMEMBERED. He remembered everything.
In the dark of the room, the cyan green and bloody crimson of the sabers clashed and sent garish light flashing. Silently, Dante rose to his feet, bracing himself against the wall, his hands fumbling with an item inside his jacket. The item had been the contents of the mysterious wooden box Xanathane had gifted to Dante after their fight. At the time, Dante couldn’t understand the importance of the item - it was only now that the gravity, the meaning, came crashing down on him. Slowly pushing himself up, bracing himself against the wall, Dante steadied himself before speaking. Addressing the monster, Dante licked his lips before speaking, his voice trembling, barely audible above the battle. “Why did you do it? Why did you do it, father?”
The monster gave a violent push against Xanathane’s saber, and the Jedi stumbled backward several steps, raising his saber into a high guard - but paused, seeing the monster lower his blade and give a cruel smile towards Dante on the ground. “Why?!” Spat the monster. “Why? I’ll tell you why! Hundreds of millions DIED on Firrerre, and I watched them be liquified and burned! One does not walk away from such cruelness and anger without carrying it with them for the rest of their lives! Even years after the event, that hate and anger lingers on…powerful, so powerful. I searched for your mother, at first, thinking to hang onto the last bit of light and hope of that world! But, when I found her, do you know what I found? I found your mother, her body draped across a pod, with YOU inside of it!”
“M-Me?” Whispered Dante. “Why? How?”
“She was pregnant, and deigned - in typical Firrerreo fashion - not to tell me about it. Because she was pregnant, they couldn’t put her in stasis - they allowed her to carry to term before suspending her. There was an accident on the ship though. Pods started shutting down, passengers awoke, there was a panic for the last few pods as the air drained out of the ships…she put you in her own pod, and shielded you with her body as she and her assailants asphyxiated.” The monster clacked its teeth together, a sneer on its face. “As if YOU were worth such a sacrifice!”
Xanathane, his eyes glued to the monster, spoke softly then. “Your father, the monster before you, is the REAL Dante Deveaux. After he found you, he practically abandoned you to Arcturus - Dante fundamentally couldn’t stand the sight of you. As the years passed, Dante’s hate and loathing grew to ever greater proportions; as you came of age and joined the military, unwittingly and unknowingly following in your father’s footsteps, Dante turned to darker and darker methods to try and bring his wife, your mother, back from the grave - seeing the life that you lived rightfully belonging to your mother.” Xanathane shook his head sadly, and the monster, the true Dante, spat on the ground.
“Arcturus was no fool, though, and my attempts at gathering knowledge on necromancy and soul transference were quickly found out.” Said the monster, sneering at Xanathane. “My apprentice, Xanathane, had reported my change in personality to Arcturus - as expected of a good little lapdog. Both confronted me, and I easily bested Arcturus by focusing my attack on my former padawan…”
“…Arcturus died trying to save me.” Finished Xanathane, sadly. A flicker of anger passed across his face - which the monster cackled at - but it passed as soon as it came. “Arcturus, in his dying moments, cursed Dante Deveaux of house Sorreaux; he put powerful barriers in place to prevent Dante from ever learning the powers he sought.” Continued Xanathane. “When Dante realized what had happened, he abducted you out of the Serenno military, and used what little knowledge he he had left to transplant a piece of his essence into you - attempting to turn you into a perfect copy of himself. The idea was that the blood relation would allow you to comprehend the bound piece of his essence, subconsciously comprehending the secrets, upon which Dante would rip his essence out of you and put it back into himself. At that point, it would be YOUR memories, not his. Arcturus, dying as he was, had little time to be thorough - and the loophole was a genuine threat.” Xanathane ended, casting his eyes downward, no doubt feeling no small amount of guilt.
Dante’s son shook his head with disbelief. “Then…why did you take so long to find me, Xanathane? To stop him?”
“Rather simply, actually - it took time for you to completely integrate Dante’s essence into yourself. During that time, Dante made himself as large a nuisance as possible. Terror attacks, creating the Syndicate, and more - he held many thousands hostage on threat of my leaving Bespin. What he didn’t count on was the beginnings of rejection in your mind - as Dante’s mental essence consumed you, your true self battled with it on a subconscious level, manifesting as madness and neurosis. Eventually, your were compelled to find me on Bespin of your own free will…I was able to give your true self strength once I defeated you, and the cards began to fall.”
“I have one final question…” Said the son of Dante after a long moment. His eyes staring into the eyes of his father, Dante spoke quietly, softly, the weight of everything pressing down on him. “Dante, father, what is my name?”
The monster spat, quite literally sending a piece of spittle flying towards Dante. “You? You aren’t worth a name!” The monsters bellow echoed through the room - but his son’s gaze was unflinching. Eventually, the monster snorted, a cruel sneer on his lips, a glimmer in his eye. “Fine. If you must know before you die…your name is Zaraff!”
Absolute, seething, roiling hate filled Zaraff at the declaration of his name - hate for what the words meant in the Firrerre tongue. Without thinking, Zaraff lunged forward, a bellowing Firrerreo roar echoing through the chamber; Xanathane moved with him, a surge of the force hastening his steps, his saber striking high for Dante’s neck. But the monster only laughed cruelly, spinning to feint towards Dante; Xanathane, seeing the shift, took the bait and shifted his strike to attempt to parry Dante’s crimson blade. Such as it was that Xanathane left his guard open - and Dante’s crimson blade sheered through the man’s torso, leaving a gaping gash that smoked and steamed as the elder Jedi’s body fell backward. Zaraff, striking out with his left fist, a strike of anger and rage, fared no better; Dante continued the spinning strike, sheared through Zaraff’s left shoulder, sending the Firrerreo’s amputated arm flying to the side.
Two bodies struck the ground, first Zaraff’s, then Xanathane’s - with Xanathane pinning Zaraff’s right arm to the ground. Above the pair, the monster Dante Deveaux cackled with glee and cruel delight. Taking a step forward, the father of lies lifted a boot and planted it on Xanathane’s smoking corpse, pressing his weight down, he watched as his wayward son struggled to free his only working arm. “See how you fall? See how you fail?” Sneered Dante, pointing his crimson blade at Zaraff’s face. “So quickly are you defeated, when one has precious loved ones to protect…so quickly do the unworthy fall beneath my blade!”
Zaraff, breathing heavily, trying to work past the ungodly pain in his shoulder and the crushing weight of Xanathane’s body, only laughed. Yes, laughed. For, under Xanathane’s body, his right hand fumbled and twisted - the item from the box firmly in hand. Looking up at the monster - no, his father - Zaraff smiled openly at the pitiful man. “Do you truly have no remorse? No single shameful thought? No qualm for all your wrongs?” Asked Zaraff weakly, his body beginning to go into shock, his vision blurring.
“Not one! My only regret is that I couldn’t kill you when I wanted to, you sniveling little ingrate! Why I should have - AGGGH!” The monster’s voice was cut off by a silver blade, bubbling forth from the lightsaber in Zaraff’s right hand - concealed by the body of Xanathane, to pierce straight through the mans corpse and into Dante’s heart. Shock, disbelief, absolute refusal spasmed across the monster’s face, and then, oddly enough, acceptance. “Killed…killed…by my own sword? I taught you too well…perhaps…perhaps…you truly are…a…a…Sorreaux…” Dante’s breath hitched then, and his body went rigid - slowly, like a wave, the entirety of his form turned to stone, forever frozen, forever defeated.
Such as it was, that Zaraff son of Dante lapsed into unconsciousness, the silver blade still burning through the corpse of Xanathane into the stony figure of Dante, who, in his own hand, held the still burning crimson blade. The son of a monster redeemed and absolved, the learner become master by sacrifice of life, a monster defeated by what he feared most. So all things end, or come full circle at least.
And so ends the story of Zaraff, or, perhaps, is it just the beginning?
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