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  1. 2 points
    The Hutt breathed in a blubbery breath of the stale air of the Dark Lord’s personal chambers. It was claustrophobic, the air tasted of latent fear and broken souls. It could also have been because Sheog’s massive mountain of a greasy body was not meant for the humanoid living quarters. His heavy-lidded eyes, horrifying crimson flecked with sulfuric yellow, scanned the room, passing over the Empress with little interest. …Lord Sheog… The Hutt’s deformed nostrils wrinkled, a momentary disdain for the title. He was a Master of the Sith and killed more Jedi then the rest of the active order combined to get there. Somehow, he had even killed several of the Jedi several times. …What do you think the Sith have become? The Hutt pondered the question. He never knew, when talking to his Sith brethren, if such questions were traps, or bait, or reason for some idiot to attack him. He didn’t care to be cautious with Exodus, diplomacy and guile were not the Hutt’s style, and would stink of dishonesty even worse then the noxious grease that stained his flesh. Sheog set the stage with a recounting of Kuat, the last battle at which the Sith had been tested. He was blunter then normal. <<Our Sith got kriffing rickrolled by Stormtroopers without lightsabers.>> The Hutt snorted derisively, pausing to deal with the phlegm that came from his action. He almost coughed the slimy bolus onto the Dark Lord, but caught himself, swallowing it like Lallu would have. He continued, his disgust bridling on anger. <<Well Lucifer died, which is par for the course... Have you ever played Acceron mini-Golf? Like one shotting every hole at a family fun center. Yeppp... Lucifer got bloody roasted. His apprentice too. Wasted by an unmounted TIE pilot no less.>> The Hutt produced a small, desiccated wormlike lizard. Its dead flesh was cradled in his palm. The chubby fingers slowly curled around it, crushing it into bloodless chunks. Wordless disgust. Ysalimiri <<Oni died like a bitch against what they called a... Sexorcist I think. Probably was a fun death by the sounds of it. Got burned alive by flames, must have been one hell of a night. You ever had a night like that? Burning the bedsheets…>> The Hutt glanced sideways at the Empress and gave her what he thought was a coy smile but it came across as a grotesque interest. <<They don't call you Sexodus for nothin I'm sure.>> The Insane Hutt calmed his absurdity, halting his prattling monologue before it became more indecent. He glowered at the tiara, pondering the Imperial’s efficiency. They had used some form of Meta, had won everything, but had still lost. <<What have the Sith become?>> The Force was rocked by the Hutt’s concentrated madness. Gluttony and greed entwined, wrapping themselves about the Hutt like a cloak. The staff cracked against the flagstones, sending sparks into the shadows. <<They do as most creatures do. Shirk from responsibility when it is foisted upon them. We have a galaxy to conquer, let us not allow the weak to feed upon our strength, like a babe sups upon the breast…>> His eyes fell to the Spider’s, and they shone with power <<Let us forge it in our strength. If the rest of the Sith are to follow, they will need to grow up from the children they are. To leave their sandcastles. Their toys. Their whores...>>
  2. 1 point
    Rating: PG-13 [For war violence(not graphic) and mild use of language.] Constrictive criticism and advice wanted. Long ago in an galaxy far, far, away... Planet Sullust Sullust System The Outer Rim Territories The volcanic planet of Sullust, like many worlds recently have been freed from the oppressive Empire, yet newfound liberation has its own share of risks... Such is the case today, when an Imperial task force comprised of one Imperial 1-class destroyer and four Arquitens-class light cruisers entered the system without warning. Their purpose, to conduct an orbital bombardment upon on the inhabitants for supporting the rebels. The threat was grave indeed, since Imperial agents sabotaged the planetary shields just prior. This was to serve as a message to other seditious worlds, that the Empire was far from dead and more than capable of delivering retaliation. Standing on the bridge, looking out from the view-point, Captain Oren Tadian couldn't help but sneered in contempt at the welcoming committee in front of the planet. The New Republic naval defenses consisted of two EF76 Nebulon-B frigates, three CR90 corvettes and four A-Wing and X-Wing squadrons stood between Sullust and Imperial judgment. As an old navy hand that served with pride since his academy days, Tadian held great disdain toward the rebel scum for both professional and personal reasons. Arms crossed behind his back, Captain Tadian turned to his subordinate on the left and said. "Once in range direct all forward batteries to open on the frigate to the right on my command. The cruisers are to maintain position to protect our flanks. We don't need the scum outmaneuvering us. Deploy all fighters and bombers and have them form defensive rings on the front as well." "Understood captain." Commander Jader replied in a crisp manner while relaying the order. Oren could detect hints of eagerness from his XO's voice. He didn't blame her, ever since the disaster at Endor, they needed a victory however small. As the battle preparations took shape the captain noticed out of the corner of his eye a young ensign with a dark uniform. The junior officer stood near the left side, opposite of the walkway. To most the young man seem to be focused on his task, checking on the readings on the datapad that he held, Oren didn't buy it. With a careful examination, he noted the sweat coming down the neck and the twitching fingers, sights that told a completely different story. Immediately the captain knew what it was really going on having seen that same look on many before. He walked up toward the section with no pomp behind him. The junior officer turned around and saw the captain approaching now afraid that he was in trouble. Instead, Oren stopped in front of him, nodding with sympathy before continuing. "Son I know you're scared, this is your first battle, but we must fulfill our duties as members of the navy. Stay on the task at hand nothing more, nothing less. Or else you will be relieved of your post. Do I make myself clear?" Shamed, the ensign gulped down his throat and nodded. Patting, the young man's shoulder Captain Tadian returned to the command walkway and Jader followed. "Everything is proceeding as instructed sir. Hostiles are advancing." Looking out at the central viewpoint, Oren watch the rebel ships splitting into two groups. Each one was lead in the center by a frigate and screened by one or two corvettes. The very sight of them disgusted the Captain all the more. "Fire at will." The destroyer's frontal guns came alive with salvos of emerald energy. Within a moment the frigate was struck in the center mass, pounding away at the shields. In reaction it's corvette escort engaged thrusters, firing their own shots at the steer of the Imperial flagship, not so much to damage but to divert attention. "Shields holding, sir." "Stay on target commander. Our cruisers and TIEs will handle these smaller pests." Seventy-two TIE fighters and bombers poured out from the Destroyer's main loading bay like an angry hive of inspects, strengthening protection for their mother ship. The captain took a few moments of notice of the starcraft, engaging their rebel counterparts in front of his ship. He watched on as the fighters clashed in the far distance, only able to make out specks flashing with blaster cannons at one another in a dance of death. In all things considered, Tadian was a traditionalist when it came to naval doctrine, battleships will always carry the day. In his mind Endor was an exception, a disastrous one to be sure but an exception, nonetheless. He fully intended on crushing the opposition before him to avenge the honor of the Imperial navy. An hour later... Tadian frowned, torn between a mixture of satisfaction and frustration at the view he was witnessing. What remained of one Nebulon and two corvettes floated aimlessly, noting more than chunks of debris on the right. However intermingled with the destroyed rebel ships were pieces of what had been two of his cruisers. Noting only that more than half of the TIEs were gone with the accursed rebels still with fighter support. Worse of all for the proud naval man was the last hostile frigate heavily damaged but still firing back. Screening it was the elusive Coreillian corvette and the surviving starcraft that flew from one side to the other. Their effort will be in vain he concluded but even it had cost him dearly. The sight of what once was two Imperial light cruisers, rendered nothing but wreckage reminded him so bitterly along with the remnant of the TIEs. Captain Tadian sighed then ordered out loud. "Full speed ahead and fire everything." "Captain they're crippled, we can let the remaining Arquitens and bombers handle them and proceed with our objective." Twisting around the senior officer gave a stone cold stare back toward his subordinate. "We can accomplish both tasks with this destroyer. Now do I as command, full speed ahead and have the batteries ready." Jader with great reluctance written over her expression, silently nodded in acknowledgment and repeated the order to the crew. The star destroyer increased its speed, advancing toward the battered rebel picket line, with its remaining escort. Tadian rubbed gloved hands in anticipation for the coming destruction that would be wrought upon these insurgents and then their Sullustan collaborators on the surface. My son, Serin was everything a father could ever hope for. He made me proud the day he graduated from the academy...only to be murdered by these bloody terrorists. The captain closed his eyes, the memories causing him great sorrow, before looking up back at the enemy defenders with utter hatred. I had sooner have myself devoured by a rancor than to spare them from the justice they all deserve. The Imperial vessels and their collection of bombers and fighters began the final push to wipe out their struggling foes. Before they opened a new salvo a voice spoke up, it was the sailor at the scanner console. "Captain, ships coming out of hyperspace at our rear. Three of them!" Alarmed Oren looked back once from the walkway and watched Commander Jader, who shared a concerned expression approached the scanner console with a more worried sailor siting there. The second in command narrowed her eyes in examination before she called back to the captain. "Sir...its the rebel reinforcements." _________________________________ Meanwhile the said Republic arrivals in the form of a MC80 star cruiser, the Saber flanked by two old venator-class destroyers, one on each side flew toward the battle. They had been on patrol in a nearby system when alerted of the situation from an earlier message. Inside an ever active docking bay of the Saber was a certain X-Wing, piloted by a blue skinned and red eyed alien. His name was Forim Viridux from the Core World of Duro. He wore the typical orange flight suit and with a more unique black helmet, while sitting in the cockpit of his fighter waiting to hear the order to deploy. Outside a group of technicians made their last-minute preparations on his fighter, as it was being done to the other craft throughout the bay. Forim sat there in silence, mentally preparing himself for what is to come. He stared at the front of the cockpit like aimlessly, his right gloved hand shaking uncontrollably. The twenty-one-year-old pilot had fought in a multiple of engagements so far, mostly light scale raids and skirmishes. It was however more than enough of a harrowing experience to help him wise up as a fighter pilot...and give him repeated nightmares. The young Duros tighten the struggling hand into a fist and then took a deep breath before releasing. Get a grip, your squadron needs you. With that thought in mind Forim decided to keep himself busy by rechecking the controls, a useful diversion. Soon enough, Captain Darda Sen spoke through the intercom to the crew. "All hands prepare for battle stations and launch all fighters." Pal, his emerald painted astromech, in the fighter's back seat commented in binary [This is it.] Smiling, but pretending annoyance, Forim replied, "Don't remind me buddy." Soon the X-Wing lifted up from the ground and the landing gear closed. Forim directed the starfighter forward then turned, following the rest together like a flock of birds out of the bay on the right. They detected the massive dogfight between their fellow rebels and the hated Imps in close space to the star destroyer and its remaining cruiser protection. "Lock S-foils in attack position." The Duros pilot ordered his squadron who quickly complied. His X-Wing spread its foils open, giving his fighter its trademark attack position, widening the range of its laser cannons. Leading Able squadron in front of a loose triangle formation, Forim charged into the dogfight. The Duros pilot twisted his ship in a loop, diving toward a TIE interceptor, whose pilot seemed too distracted from the incoming peril. Viridux squeezed down the trigger, rapid fire burst struck the Imp's cockpit from above. In an instant, the enemy was gone in a cloud of debris. Forim's first kill of this engagement and yet he did not celebrate, feeling hallow about it and an urgent need to stay on task. Moments later his shields were downed, dodging and twisting to stay alive. The leading cruiser Saber made its way at high speed just as Forim Viridux flew up within range of its outer edges. Soon he witnesses from the side of his cockpit's viewpoint, the rebel cruiser and the Imperial destroyer exchanging volleys of turolasers at one another. Red and emerald tracers shot back and forth, igniting explosive bursts in the hull of each vessel. The scene was breathtaking, needless to say, until he remembered that people are dying from the baordside duel. Then Captain Sen called in once more. "Saber to flight leaders, Able and Bravo get your squadrons back in formation and escort us in, we're starting our attack run toward the Destroyer. Marking nav point theta." Complying, Forim lurched out of the massive dogfight and made his way in an escort formation for the Saber on its right starboard. Following him was ten X-Wings out of the original twelve in Able Squadron. "Ables, when we engage again stay close proximity to your wingman as much possible. Able Two you're with me. Our objective is to protect the Saber from bomber attacks as it intercepts the enemy destroyer." "Copy Able leader, following you now." When finished, Forim watched the main vessels of rebel task force open up on the destroyer's left board-side to save the corvette under assaulted by it. Soon the remaining enemy fighters and bombers swarmed in for a counter-offensive toward the Saber. Just as that happened Able and Bravo squadrons dived toward the hostiles, Forim couldn't help but think. Here we go again. Forim lost visibility of Able Two but it couldn't be helped, this second round of the dogfight was even more intense than the first. His fighter shook violently on impact from enemy fire, decreasing the shields. Viridux had no time to shoot back, instead spun down and quickly went left, then right to shake off the pursing fighter. Suddenly the hunter became prey when one of Forim's squad mates Bol Icab aka Able Four swoop in overhead. Letting loose a barrage Bol disintegrated the chasing enemy into noting but metal pieces. "Thanks Bol, I owe ya." Forim said, his face beaming with gratitude. "No problem Viridux but we still got a fight to win here." "Acknowledge...form up on me." Bol complied and together they flew together out of the main fighting before making an attack run on a stray enemy bomber. Once locked on target, Forim blasted shot after shot till the Imp's rear was filled with gray smoke. The hostile pilot attempted to dodge out of his line of fire only to be destroyed by a proton missile, courtesy of Bol. All was left but an explosive cloud and wreckage in its wake. This reminded Forim that no matter how skilled or talented one flyer is, the teamwork of two or more similar pilots was far better. "Saber to Able squadron, we have a flight of Y-Wings, their target, the destroyer's bridge. They need fighter escort. Uploading their positions to your HUD, nav point Delta." "Understood, Captain, over and out. Alright Able, ya heard him, we got babysitting duty, regroup for the directed coordinates in wingman pairs." Once acknowledged, Forim and Bol complied with the new guideline on their HuD and were soon accompanied by the rest of their unit. The X-Wings flew in pairs and then formed into an arrow formation. With his fighter leading, Viridux looked toward the sensors to check how many pilots were left in the squadron. Eight...lost another one, Zio Rosen, a human smuggler from Garel who only been with them for about two months now. Forim squeezed his knuckles tightly, remembering the other night when they shared drinks and swapped stories together. Another pilot dead under his command, Forim grew more determined in that moment to do his best to keep the others alive. Able Squadron soon linked up with the allied bombers at the nav point... ———————————————— From an inevitable victory to an outright disaster. Captain Tadian lowered his head for a moment, knowing he was accountable for this debacle. He could only stand there, seemly motionless viewing out the widow. Sparks ignited across the now damaged bridge and the whole ship shuddered with each enemy salvo bombarding the hull, yet the elderly captain kept his footing. All around he can hear the staff updating the situation in tones filled with dismay and suppressed panic. "Most of our turrets are gone." "Bridge deflector shield is shot to hell." "Sir hull breaches in sectors five, nine, three, and twelve." "Engines failing!" Tadian bowed his head again, ashamed of the massive blunder he had wrought. There was no way to salvage the mess, but to go out in a blaze of glory, fighting to the bitter end. 'Hopefully we take more of those terrorists with us by then.' Subsequently, the captain spotted the junior officer he rebuked earlier, putting up a bolder front than before, watching through the viewpoint with growing despair. Just looking at the frightened young man cut at the veteran's heart. It reminded him painfully of Serin, his fallen son. Walking toward him, Captain Oren Tadian then whispered. "You don't need to die today ensign. Go, head for the escape pods, no one will stop you." Stunned the ensign tried to protest but Tadian stopped him. "That is an order." Gluping nervousness down his throat, the junior officer finally complied and saluted the captain who returned the gesture proudly. Tadian observed the boy go, moving briskly through the walkway and then turned a corner. Satisfied he may have spared at least one life from this slaughter Captain Tadian focus back on the battle outside. Footsteps were heard behind him and he recognized who it was. "Well done sir, you have given him a chance." Commander Jader complimented, causing Tadian to sigh. "Forgive this foolish old man Jader. As an commanding officer I had failed you all in my arrogance." "With all due respect Captain, you're only human. I understand why you did it, but we can't alter that course now. We'll see this through to the end whatever the outcome, just like you taught me." Tadian sadly smiled at the last comment, remembering when Jader was first assigned to this ship. Glancing over his shoulder to Jader, he then confessed. "You and the others are the best crew that a captain can ever hope to have." "It's been a privilege sir." Commander Jader answered back, beaming with sadden pride. That expression grew into alarm however, when she looked at what's coming toward the bridge. Turning back the captain bore witness to a flight of Y-wings, flanked on both sides by X-Wings in escort formation speeding right for them. Some of the remaining turoslasers attempted to blast the attacking craft, but the rebels were too fast, evading the green themed barrage with ease. All of the bombers then unleashed their payload of proton torpedoes in the last few seconds. Captain Tadian had only a moment to shut his eyes, accepting the fate now before him and whispered. "At last I will embrace you again my son..." ——————————————— The enemy bridge exploded in massive fury as the bombers and their escorts scattered like a school of fish. Giving out a wild cheer at the sight, Forim and the other pilots increased thrusters' speed and reentered the dogfight nearby. The destroyer began to sink with several escape pods blasting away from it. Unhindered, the Saber and it's two escort cruisers concentrated their firepower on the headless battleship. Forim glanced to the side, as one cruiser advanced on the left and the other below on the right and the Saber in front above the drifting enemy vessel. Without hesitation the trio punched through the Imperial hull with concentrated firepower in three directions. Within minutes the Imperial flagship's center mass erupted with furious fire, tearing it into two. Such a view stunned Forim so much that he failed to realize how dangerously his X-Wing was a moment later. As if a mighty hand swapped him, Forim's fighter lurched back by the sheer force of the capital ship's destruction. Spinning violently out of control the blue skinned pilot tighten hands on the flight stick in a vain effort to regain balance with Pal beeping frantic calls. Grimacing in both pain and fear then the alien ace shouted back. "I know, I know Pal just hang on!" Tumbling and spinning nonstop, Forim's vision blurred, helpless within the confined space of his cockpit. Soon his consciousness began fading to the mounting pressure of the g-force. No stay awake, stay awake. In spite of his defiant spirit, the will of the body was absolute and Forim slumped over, passing out. Nearly three hours later... Slowly but surely Forim began to wake, opening his red eyes and moaning from a newfound headache then the familiar sound of Pal erupted close by, real close. "Huh?" Viridux blurted out and stood up. Much to his surprise the ace found himself in bed aligned with similar cots. Several were occupied by other Republic personal in various states of wounds in a wide white room. He twisted his head to the left and saw little round green plated Pal chirping with palpable excitement. So I lived. Thank the force. Breathing a sigh, Forim then shushed at the droid. "Me too buddy but please tone down it. Head hurts." In reaction the atstromech clicked, sounding sarcastic in nature. Rolling his red eyes Forim replied. "Only you would remind me of that business back on Rodia." "You both can keep it down. There are other patients in here after all." Looking up the squadron leader saw a yellow Twi'lek female aged around forty years in an doctor's white uniform with a polite rebuke written over her face. Embarrassed Forim shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "My apologies Doc. Ya recall how we are when together." "I'm intimately aware of the fact Mr. Vidirix. All the same be little quieter." Doctor Tiliah Kiba retorted in an exotic accent that clearly marked her origins from Ryloth. Nodding in acknowledgment, questions popped up in his mind and looked at the medic she spoke up first. "Before you ask Mr. Viridux, yes your squadron is okay, Bol Icab is keeping them occupied for the time being. Also your injuries, it is nothing major, you will rest here for the time being. By the way Cari, the mechanic has a few choice words for you given the state of your fighter." Forim looked down at the floor and commented. "Go figure. So what happen after the destroyer was destroyed? I imagine we won." A weary sigh escaped Doctor Kiba in reply. "We did save Sullust but the remaining Imperial vessels refused to surrender or retreat. They kept fighting until wiped out, not before inflicting further casualties on us. Me and my staff will be busy for the next few rotations..." Upon that those last words the Twi'lek medic fell silent with both Forim and Pal joining her. Then Kiba gave a slight nod to the both of them, and went back to work. The young Duros had mixed feelings about what they suffered in spite of having only few of the details. At least we spared Sullust further misery. It should count for something. Thinking that young flight leader just hoped all these madness would end. He didn't want to keep losing friends like Zio. From the widow on the far left, the squadron leader could clearly observe the drifting pieces of vessels Alliance and Imperial alike, floating in the dark vacuum of space. "One day, one fight at a time." He reminded himself and laid his head back on the soft pillow and tried to get some sleep.
  3. 1 point
    Howdy neighbor. Louisiana here, and I found the site the same way way back in 06. Just wanted to stop in a say welcome and hope that you enjoy yourself here.
  4. 1 point
  5. 1 point
    Aidan’s emerald eyes were clouded by the murkiness of doubt, Kyrie could see that, even as his body stiffened under her embrace. He felt different, more clouded. She stepped back and looked up at him. She was shorter now, and it made the whole world feel different. His words pained her, as she could feel his pain in them. It ripped into the force, unconstrained emotion. …I Felt you die… Kyrie pulled her blonde hair back, lashing it with a scrap of leather she had around her wrist. She stretched, her small muscles rippling under her pale skin. Her voice held a sorrow, but also a happiness. She spoke the code she had memorized on Ossus under Xae-Lin-Ardel “There is no death; There is the Force” She held her palms open before her, and her long-handled blade danced across the room, to settle into her grasp. It was heavier then she remembered. It crackled in its ignition, and it blended into her spirit. Her locus of control enveloped it and the silver blade became more then a tool, it held a part of her life within it. “To every soul within this galaxy, death comes soon or late.” Kyrie began to feel Aidan. Feel a deepset darkness, like a cloud of smoke obscuring the sunlight. His fire was tinged with it. She finished her poem as her violet eyes washed over him, taking in his new weapons. “And what way could I have died better, then facing fearful odds, until I was nothing but ashes out of the reach of God.” She let the blade extinguish and stepped close to her apprentice. “Your weapons bear the evil of the Sith… You will need training to overcome their influence. But don't worry, I will not take from you the trophies of war.” She was disappointed. Not in her apprentice, but in herself for being so lax in her training of him. The Force was filled with the chaos of evacuation. Children screamed, abandoned and alone. She gave Aidan a kind smile “To purify, one must know how to calm their own soul.” She indicated the evacuation about them. “Calm their wayward souls. Wipe away their tears with your spirit.” She pressed out with her presence, filling the room with a soothing calmness. A song of peace amongst the chaos. “Now you try.”
  6. 1 point
    I mean are kids really that different than someone like five years older than them? Delta wanted to yell in regards to his rejected gift. But then the coughing came, wicked and dark as she began to throw up blood in congealed masses on the floor. He stood still for a moment before letting the three datapad fall to the floor beside him in a clatter. He rushed to her side, gingerly holding her shoulders as she shook from the result of her self applicated meds. She continued to shake and Delta could feel the gnawing in the bottom of his stomach roiling up again. “No feed off me, feed off me!” He tore away his collar exposing his neck to offer a feast of himself. He voice carrying with it the high pitch of a man truly afraid. Someone that was willing to give everything to correct a wrong. But it was far too late for that, his timing was as forever off. And he could only crouch beside her as she took matters into her own hands to save the lot of them. He screamed and dove at her as the needle tore home, but again it was too late and all he managed to do was tackle the corpse of the woman he loved to the floor as the convulsions took hold. “God!” He was screaming now, his voice hoarse. “God damn it.” His bare hands lightly held her head as the last bit of the force bore through her like a knife, burning away her eyes in a flash of red tinged light. He watched the entire time and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He absorbed every bit of it. She had died to protect him, because of his stupid error. It was his fault. Again. And with a blink the gnawing in his stomach was streaking up to his brain and Madness began to take its hold. ___________________ Song ___________________ “Why?” Why? He shouted at the heavens, maybe to Dagon, maybe to the scores of demons that watched him from the shadows of the room, their eyes white and red and always staring. Why? You know why. You were never meant to feel. The eyes blinked as one and he could see the large unblinking eyes of Tanwen Keyoo, the Kaminoan in charge of his pod, coming from the brown leather couch he had deposited the teenagers on before. The Kaminoian was dead now over a hundred years, but still always in the back of his mind. He looked away from those orbs and looked back down at the Sith lord he still cradled, his fingers seeking a pulse at her neck and finding nothing at all except the tremors that came with a melting nervous system. You were produced for a purpose. And it was not this. Not love. He laid the head down on the soft carpeted floor and gave her a light kiss on the forehead before standing. His heart hurt so much it felt like it would also melt away, and the corners of his vision narrowed as he began to cry. Hot tears rolling down his cheeks to splatter onto his torn shirt. You were produced for War, nothing else. And now you see the consequences of trying to be anything else. He blinked, trying to clear his vision of the mass of tears and so also wipe away the ghosts that flooded the room. You should have learned this a hundred years ago. Everything you love is taken away. “Shut up!” He strode towards the couch, his hands curling into useless fists. But the demon continued its taunt. It is not your purpose. You cannot deny your purpose! “Shut up!” He screamed and reached out to find the slim Kaminoan neck. That at least felt real enough. He squeezed hard, reveling in the panicked movements below his fingers as he strangled the life out of his old pod master. But she continued to speak, even after he felt the larynx give way and the cartilage grind back unrelentingly. Do not deny your choices He let go and struck this time with a closed fist, receiving a squeal of fear and pain in its place. He smiled and struck out at the vision again, loving the feeling of his clenched fist hitting the soft bone and cartilage of the Kaminoian face. The voice was gone but Delta struck again, and again until his fists were coated with thick mucus like blood and chips of bone had cut his knuckles. The thashing below his fists had also stopped, and Delta could only hear his heavy breathing, punctuated by a sob as he continued to blink tears away from his eyes. Soldier! A new voice as familiar as the last this time from behind a ‘T’ visor which glowed red, this time from the center of the couch, and Delta could see the yellow hawks on a field of stars on the side of the white helmet. Commander Gilthros. Head of commando team Delta, which had been deployed on Christophsis near the end of the clone wars. “I said shut up! All of you shut up!” Delta scrambled for the blaster that Ailbasí had given him at their journeys start. With shaking hands he depressed the trigger, sending a triple blast into the center of the couch. Silencing the clone commander's ghost. There is a lesson to be learned Ca’Aran. Don't let this madness pass without you learning it. The voice caused him to drop the blaster and fall to his knees beside his deceased lover. He stared at his hands, not having the courage to look up at the last ghost of the clone wars. One that had been exorcised by Qaela, but had come back nonetheless. She had always come back. He took a deep breath and he began to quench the rage and sickness that swirled through his body. “There is always a lesson, Kailen.” But this one has purpose. You see before you the consequences of your actions. Redemption is still but a heartbeat away. You need only make the choice. Leave it behind. The tears dried and he took another deep breath. His eyes focused on the blaster laying beside him. So very tempting. But He had things to do, and it wasn't time for that yet. Another breath. And the voices were silent. "But..." Another breath. This one cold and without the sobbing of tears. "Then I wouldn't be the Blood Prince." Another breath. "And who would I be without that? I retired clone trooper with no purpose? Kriff that my lady." Ca'Aran please "If I can serve the Sith then I will. Someday I'll join you in hell. What's more death to add to the weight of my sins? I have given up redemption long ago." But silence only greeted him. ___________________ He looked up at the mess on the couch and retched.
  7. 1 point
    M A D N E S S Furion, Quietus, and Draken, it made no difference in the who. There were other names, other identities that absconded their burdens and turned their backs. Keenava had downshifted, falling from grace and regressing into a mere hound of the Korriban sands. Now she lay dead, spirit just as lost as her fragmented mind was. Even the promise of pledging apprentices, rallying their weight towards the efforts of Kuat, and coming up short against their adversaries. Glory, and victory, escaped them all. Root and stem of the brotherhood was perforated with rot, but the Sith Empire remained supreme.; a balance barely held together by the strength and name of the Spider, and the hundreds of thousands he now commanded. “My mind is, unclear as of late.” Except that it was not, his lie was spun from a retch of emotion that was born of anger, his mind was sharper than it had ever been. Allegiance was a shrewd notion among the evils of the galaxy, and the madness of suspicion was a thing unavoidable by all that swam within the dark side of the force. Ordinarily, the merriment of the Hutt would ease the fire inside of Exodus, but this fuel burned a different mettle inside his black soul. Exodus watched as the silver headdress clattered across his floor, staring from afar with no intention to move to recover it. A treasure from the child that presided over the remnants of the old empire, a worthless jewel borne of treasonous turncoats. Exodus stood, his disinterest in the Empress was unmistakable. He focused instead on the readiness of his battle raiment, the aesthetics of which were shadowed from the swallowing darkness. Lastly was the form of a soot-covered half-skull helmet cradled inside the tuck of his right arm, while his infamous blade remained clutched inside of his left hand. The Spider was yearning the adrenaline of battle, for reasons that longingly churned his blood, and he would leave Onderon to enact death as he saw fit. However, the Hutt had come home at last, and the inkling of why was a curiosity he would have answered. Moreover, whispers ascertained that his apprentice had returned. Before all, he would measure the true intent of the Lord of Madness. "Lord Sheog, what do you think of what the Sith have become?"
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