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Ailbasi Zirtani vs. Keenava Ootunavi

 

In the quiet after Ailbasi Zirtani literally put her heart and soul into crafting a sword, Keenava Ootunavi went to her room to demand her assistance in crafting a piece for her, under pain of death. Rather than be coerced into performing the work, Ailbasi lured her into the undoubtedly cramped quarters of a Sith acolyte and locked the door, sealing her into the room and robbing the Twi’lek assassin of the space required for the mind-bending maneuvers in Ataru. Afterwards… well, to put it mildly, this situation escalated. It got out of hand fast.

 

Ailbasi’s opening attack of a stabbing lunge was simple, but considering the cramped environment, effective enough. Repeatedly, she utilized simple attacks that were in line with the abilities of a very inexperienced apprentice, though the telekinetic bomb at the end of the duel strains the imagination a little bit. Her attacks made use of the cramped environment, with a mild use of telekinesis intended to wrap Ootunavi in bedsheets, and avoiding the pitfalls of wielding a physical blade in such a restrained environment. Again, as much as I enjoyed the taunting in the third post, my imagination was strained a little bit by the prospect of an inexperienced apprentice gathering the Force and detonating it in an improvised telekinetic bomb, even with the assistance of an attuned weapon. It was a good idea, though it’s likely to inflict substantial harm on the user in these close quarters.

 

On Keenava Ootunavi’s part, she quickly nullified the disadvantage of being lured into such a cramped environment with a simple grapple and throw, a maneuver that is perfectly possible against a physical blade. The same follows for the attempt at disarming Ailbasi with the bedsheets--this would be nearly impossible against a lightsaber, but a simple and effective defense against a steel sword with the hilt being used as a bludgeoning weapon. Where Keenava faltered significantly, however, was in her use of the Force. Ailbasi no longer has organic eyes and assuming that she would be hampered by cutting off the lights was a minor error and waste of effort. More significant was her extension of Force drain from an individual within a room to multiple Sith throughout the Sith, with the intention of using the energy to counter the telekinetic bomb--I consider that to require a substantial degree of focus. Despite this overreach, her counterattack with her barbed whips took advantage of Ailbasi’s vulnerable state and would effectively pin her.

 

 

Despite being at a disadvantage due to her inexperience, the Ailbasi Zirtani utilized the cramped environment very effectively and tailored her attacks to suit the arena. Keenava Ootunavi effectively countered her physical weapons with improvised tactics and simple grapples Both Zirtani and Ootunavi made an overreach in terms of their powers in the third post, but Ootunavi wasted a substantial degree of effort in plunging the room into darkness and in draining power from the Sith academy. These missteps decided the duel for me.

 

Ailbasi Zirtani is the victor of this duel and gets the next post.

 

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A high pitched whining sound pierced the room, rising in intensity with Ailbasí’s rage. This assassin lacked the resolve to follow through on her threats, and it would cost her everything.

 

The whining sound exploded into a hissing roar as the knives rocketed out of the walls on geysers of blood. When Ailbasí had meditated before, the darkness had been one of melancholy and despair, with blood oozing coldly, lazily from the walls. But this new darkness was rage and motion, heat and pressure. Torrents of blood came into the room and from the now waist high depths figures clawed and grabbed at both combatants greedily to pull them under. Ailbasí brushed them off and surged forward. Movement was agony due to her self inflicted injuries from the blast, but Ailbasí had trained to act through pain. Her now unrestrained fist shot out and connected with Keenava’s unarmored stomach with meaty impact, forcing the air out of Keenava’s lungs and leaving her gasping for air.

 

“You fight too little.”

 

Ailbasí didn’t relent as her opponent struggled to draw in breath, instead she gripped the woman by the shoulder with her off hand and began raining down blow after blow on Keenava’s head. When the Twi’lek went limp Ailbasí drug her over to the desk and laid her out like it was a sacrificial altar. The remaining pieces of porcelain cracked and peeled away as if gravity had been suspended, before they transformed into white butterflies and flitted away. Underneath the doll like facade was not the oily darkness that Ailbasí had seen before, but rather the battered and broken body of a girl caught up in a chaotic storm. She should have gotten out before it came to this, Korriban is no place for people seeking shelter.

 

“There’s no kindness in throwing you back into this nightmare, you’re not meant to run amidst monsters like us. Such a fragile little thing. So I’m going to take you out of this nightmare cycle so that you can have peace at last. You may have company down the road, but it’s not like they can kill you since you’ll already be dead. Now I will admit that this next part will be a bit messy and awkward since in the past when I’ve eaten people I’ve either been in a trance state or used the Force. But I need to send a message to others that might make the same mistake you did.”

 

Ailbasí unwrapped her prize and as it stirred she delivered a pommel strike to its spine, paralyzing it. There were a couple of false starts, but eventually Ailbasí was able to set in on the grisly banquet. When the last light started leaving Keenava’s eyes, Ailbasí peeled open the rib cage and plucked out the heart like a pulsating fruit nestled in briars. She consumed it with sensual abandon, revelling in the tastes of spicy alien blood and lean, iron rich meat. The act was not only delicious and nutritious, but also symbolic, and upon its completion that infinite spark of identity was also devoured and trapped within the prison of Ailbasí’s pearl heart.

 

********************************

 

Sentimentalists would readily tell you that the topography of the heart would be defined by warm memories and places of joy, sanctuary, and nurturing. In truth it’s more of a mixed bag, as places that make your heart sink or freeze in terror can just as easily find purchase there. An Escheresque network of places resided in the young apprentice’s heart, connected not by reason but dream logic and matrices of sentiment and trauma. Keenava’s soul, at least enough shards of it to consider itself Keenava’s soul, found itself here. It was empty, just like the apprentice had said it would be, at least as far as Keenava could tell. Peace at last.

 

A growl reverberated through the heartscape from something large and hungry. A hunter that had been without hunting for far too long at last sensed a prey thing, and the chase began, the ghost of the krayt dragon roaring triumphantly at a new conquest.

 

**********************************

 

“Oh… oops.”

 

When Ailbasí had had her fill she opened the door to her quarters, and a river of blood burst out. The half eaten body of Keenava followed shortly after from the lightless room. Content that a sufficient message had been sent, Ailbasí departed for one of the many temple med bays to recover from what was surely a great deal of damage.

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Like the many scattered and self important attendees to a Naboo Royal Wedding, the combined arms fleet of the Sith Empire and the Blackest Sun arrived over the sandy desert world of Korriban. It was overkill of course, as was everything done by the Blood Prince, but the combined fleet carried thousands of prisoners taken at Kuat who had been deemed fit for service. Some had even tested positive for force ability, and as an offering, the Black Sun had brought these newly minted slaves to the halls of the Sith Academy.

 

Delta himself had come to see how his daughter and his ex-lover were doing. Qaela would likely be in the halls somewhere screaming at men for being in her way, and Telperien would be with...what the Dark Lord? Maybe? He didn’t know, but dressed in his black armour none the less, walked through the halls of the Sith Academy, looking for familiar faces.

 

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Ca'Aran

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It was days before Ailbasí was let out of medical, not because she was too unwell to leave, but because the biomancers were concerned that she wouldn’t follow their activity restrictions. Which was a fair hypothesis. But still stupid and annoying. They may have also been mad about the med droid that malfunctioned and then caught on fire while repeatedly screaming “CRITICAL FAULT, NO CARDIOVASCULAR MUSCLE DETECTED!”

 

When Ailbasí had first come to this temple, she had been full of fear. Now she wore it like armor. Other students gave her a wide berth now, so news had gotten around. She wanted to celebrate, but Sith were rubbish at parties. A few months back a girl threw a party upon being accepted into the academy, within two hours it had imploded from power plays, duels, and drunken sorceries gone wrong. The final death count was never disclosed, but Ailbasí was fairly certain it was in the oodles range.

 

Even dating was difficult. Either the guys were all obsessed about showing dominance and expecting you to be some leathered up assistant, or they were sleeping with half the temple already. The worst was a date with an almost normal seeming guy who took a turn for the super creepy, talking about how their offspring would be the vessel for a new breed of super Sith. She wanted to get laid, not mother the new master race. Not like she could mother anything to begin with, being an infertile halfbreed. Jokes on you, eugenics prick.

 

While musing and walking the halls, Ailbasí’s attention suddenly settled upon an outsider with fierce intensity. He wasn’t as brilliantly lit as the other students, meaning he wasn’t a Force sensitive, but he was beautifully defined in his own way. He looked like a knight, a feudal armored knight, not the creepy cultist Jedi knight type. His armor, once burnished gold, was blackened by the flames of war, and his hands dripping red from the atrocities he had committed. This didn’t deter Ailbasí though, her hands had their own share of blood on them. A half shattered halo floated above his brow, with the broken pieces forming a horn. This was a good man ground down into something darker by the wars he had fought. Maybe he had been a hero even. Ailbasí liked that notion. A familiarity that she couldn’t place clung to him, but there was no apprehension or unease tied to it.

 

There was an instant attraction, undercut by a sudden fear. What if she said something wrong, or foolish? What if he wasn’t into Cathar? What if he wasn’t into women? What if he wasn’t into Cathar Sith women with crimson dragon pearl eyes?

 

What if I let my fear control me for the rest of my life? What if I end up alone because I’m always too afraid? This isn’t like back at school, where most of her classmates were arrogant, xenophobic kaths who could sleep with an alien but couldn’t date one. Her world sucked and she already changed it once, time to do it again. Say something clever but don’t overdo it. She approached the mystery man and linked her arm in his while whispering conspiratorially in his ear… at least as close as she could get with the height difference.

 

“It’s dangerous to walk alone here. Pretend you’re with me and maybe by the end of the night you will be...”

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The caves were so full of the force on Korriban. Delta was not too fond of the force, and in his lifetime he had seen more death and destruction brought to the galaxy because of religious differences between the two warring sectors of force users than any man made plague. Of course he did not mind the death and destruction, for every bullet or starfighter expended in the pursuit of domination, the military estate made someone money. And luckily through many years of deals, the Black Sun brought in much of that money. Deepening the pockets of the Vigos and those mercenaries that survived their adventures in the service of the Black Sun. It was in thinking of those trillions of credits that Delta’s thoughts fell to something he had not thought of in a long while. A forbidden thought crossed his mind.

 

What is it all for?

 

Instantly the ever present ghost of a long dead Jedi General was there to whisper in his ear.

 

Ca’aran…

 

The Blood Prince took a deep breath and shook his head. No matter the eons that passed, the trillions of parescs he travelled, or the thousands he had murdered, that presence was always there. Waiting for a moment to exploit the chinks in his psychic armour to torment him with conscience. She was always there. That red haired demon. If only she had joined the force with his blaster bolts instead of grabbing onto him.

 

His eyes looked down the corridor, hoping not to see any pale milk blue eyes that indicated a physical apparition, but just as fast as Kailen had appeared, she had vanished again. Leaving him fighting against the wave of conscience that she always brought with her. But it was not blue eyes he saw in the corridor ahead of him as he fought his invisible fight against guilt, it was Red eyes. A crimson flash that paused his steps, but then a feline arm had wrapped around his and a voice smooth vandian silk whispered in his ear. A smile replaced his frown, as the shields in his mind were restored to double front.

 

“Then I will not mind the company.”

He reached a gloved hand and placed it over hers, two black hands hidden in the darkness of the shadowed corridors. His heartbeat increased at the thought of the nights end, however the voice was familiar and it awakened another memory of a meeting on Onderon.

 

“I recognize your voice from Onderon during the takover there, tell me beautiful, what journey brought you to this world?”

 

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Ca'Aran

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“That’s a story that I haven’t had enough drinks to tell yet. Suffice it to say, I did what I needed to do to survive, and that led to some dark places, places that I think changed me. But I don’t think that I’m too far gone. My entire life up this point was spent searching for an elsewhere to be, whether it was in holovids and mythographs, or studying ancient alien civilizations, but there is a sense of belonging here, a natural intuition within me that helps me find my way in the dark.”

 

There was an ease in opening up to the man, knowing that he was just as changed, or maybe broken, as she was. Any potential judgement would be hollow and false, and any empathy honest. It was a foundation of kinship different and yet more accessible than any she had felt before.

 

“I never got the chance to thank you for coming back for me at the hospital, there have been a lot of people that have discarded me the moment that I became inconvenient, but you came for me before I was even conveniently good for you. It means a lot to me.”

 

Maybe she was being too open, but she didn’t care. Fear was no longer an obstacle, but a companion that bid her to fight harder for what she wanted. What probably they both wanted.

 

“I don’t know if you have somewhere you need to be, but if you don’t, you can join me for drinks on my ship… My quarters at the temple are currently a disaster zone from a couple of rather messy rituals, but my yacht has been kept up and we can have a few drinks and… talk. For as long as you want to.”

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Rituals. Why did the sith always have to have rituals? Why couldn’t they just be normal people who sometimes dabbled in the art of being a religious nutcase? But he did not know this girl yet, so he could only assume that the rituals were like those he had seen Ar-Pharazon do aboard the Marie some decade earlier. Those were mostly bloody affairs that had involved the youngest members of the old Naboo royal family, which while fun, had left a distinct sour taste in his mouth.

 

But hey, anything for power and wealth right?

 

Right?

 

His heart did not agree so he ignored it and continued to walk down the winding corridors towards the feline’s waiting vessel. But the mention of dark rituals did set his mind on alert. He shelved it for later discussion as they continued their walk. This was a strong girl, who had been through a personal hell and he could only respect anyone who had been through the mess which was Sheog the Mad’s court. His voice was hesitant as he spoke.

 

“Then we shall drink to your victories, though I hope that somewhere deep down inside there is a kernel of the person you once were to keep in check the pure lust for power that can corrupt and seduce so many of the Sith. That desire that spurns any past dreams to only grasp at the ever out of reach last credit or last throne.”

 

It was not romantic language, but he knew he was there mainly speaking only of his own journey. So to add humour which was in his best opinion the best way to break ice or tension from previous statements he spoke again. Appearing to all the world as Bi-Polar as he felt.

 

“So you said you studied ancient civilizations and history eh?” He rubbed his chin with his spare hand and gave her a sloppy grin. “Ever hear of the clone wars?” He laughed again and pulled her closer as they approached the hanger together. “Well miss, I must say I am grateful to have come to you in that hospital, and you are welcome.” They entered the hanger which sprawled out for nearly a kilometer of carved sandstone in the rock of Korriban.

 

“Before I join you up into that ship…” He raised his hand which was clasped with hers as he pointed to the looming Starwind class pleasure yacht that sat on its landing struts with all the grace of a beached Antaluviian turtle. “You should know that I am the fleet commander of the Axis combined arms, so you know, don’t like sacrifice me to and old Sith like Dagon or something like that.”

 

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Ca'Aran

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His words hit her like a bucket of ice water. Her immediate gut reaction was to feel anger, to feel slighted by his dismissal of her sacrifice. But he didn’t know about her sacrifice, he only knew that rituals had been performed, and he took it to a very logical conclusion. It hurt, but not nearly as much as his lamenting the loss of the girl she once was. That was like an icicle through the heart. She didn’t think there was anyone left in her life that cared about That Girl. Memories of That Girl came floating up to the surface like shards of a broken mirror and Ailbasí felt nauseous. She forced the urge to vomit back down and composed herself.

 

“I’d be lying if I acted like I could bring back who I used to be on a whim. I’m damaged now in ways that make such a notion simply impossible. But this conversation is the first time in awhile that I had the desire to do so, and that has to be worth something.”

 

She wiped away rebellious tears and turned to face him, looking up directly into his eyes. It made her feel vulnerable, and the darkness within her raged and railed at that. But something inside her told her that this was exactly the right time to be vulnerable, to be open to the intervention of someone that cared about her.

 

“So here’s my offer, we go on my ship, and you tie me up so that you can feel safe. There was a guy I knew in Uni that was into that so I have ropes. Next I soberly tell you what all I’ve done to get here, and you make a decision. If think you can still save some measure of me, then you tell me, and you hold me like fragile porcelain, even if I feel harder than smithed steel. You tell me how pretty I am, how sexy I am, despite the fact that I’m built like a monster. When you look into my eyes, you pretend you don’t see hardened pearls that can handle anything, you act like you need to tell me that everything is going to be okay. You lie to me, until I dare to believe those lies and see some measure of hope for reclaiming pieces of my past self.”

 

“If you don’t think that I can be saved, or if you just don’t want that burden, we drink to what we lost until it stops hurting, and then we pfask until we pass out. Then when you wake up you leave and never speak to me again. Save me or use me, we’re both getting what we want tonight.”

 

The Best Behaviour’s ramp descended like a timely dramatic threshold, creating a portal into a life that Ailbasí had tossed aside only a few days ago. Was this a second chance or a moment of temptation? Either way, Ailbasí hoped that Delta was too distracted by her to notice the holotoon characters on her bed sheets once they got to her room...

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Oh she’s crying? Classic me.

 

He ground his heels into the dust covered Korribani hanger and seized her by the shoulders. His two strong hands encapsulating her lithe shoulders and pinning her in place. His eyes, steel blue as they were, were full of grim determination as well as a touch of fear at what he himself was uncovering.

 

“You are not someone who needs saving, you have made countless decisions that left you here. If you are happy with what you are, then I am glad of it. I know and fear that decisions made are often regretted. For I am a creature of regrets, and if that scrap of heart I still have had its way I would place the barrel of my DC17 under my chin and join my brothers in whatever counts as an afterlife for clones. The galaxy would rejoice in my fate and my brothers in this Axis would be glad of another step up in the ladder of power I opened for them.”

 

His eyes flicked up and to the left, looking off into space that was unoccupied. His brain rushed from thought to thought, despising the fact that he had opened up to this poor Sithari girl. His heart told him that there was a chance of salvation here. His brain told him that she was not worth his time and his loins told him a very different thing. It wanted what every evolutionary biologist deemed the desire for every lifeform. But he could ignore lust. He was trained to do that, to live and die in a trench on Christophsis, and not to be distracted by that Jedi general laying beside him…

 

He shut that thought down before it awakened a spirit long subdued, and the mind and heart went back to war. So he spoke finally when the ramp had firmly settled onto the hanger floor with a hiss of outgassing from its interiors.

 

“I…”

 

His face scrunched up to a scowl and he spoke the words that both his brain and loins hated him for.

 

“I would like to get to know you, then we can decide if passion is our game.”

 

Then he leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers, so their eyes were close and his skin could feel the silk of hers. It was a Mandalorian tradition, usually done when helmets were on, a sign of affection and trust. His voice was very soft as steel blue looked into crimson red.

 

“For you are no monster.”

 

He released her and walked confidently up the ramp into her ship.

 

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Ca'Aran

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((You have gained an NPC thrall/retinue which in a few posts we will decide what to do with))

 

Will is only a temporary thing young one.

 

The voice of the commander of the Felix Legions emanated from behind his mask as he evaluated the young apprentice’s deeds. He was strong, and learning, learning the desires that made a man great. He strode forward and placed his hand upon the young woman’s head, his fingers clawlike and where the armour touched, blood seeped from the pores until her face was matted with bright blood. She tried to scream but it came out a gurgle of pain as her bright eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.

She has the force and it is strong. In time you may mould her to your will, and I will send her to your chambers. Keep her as a thrall, but do not fall to the weakness of lust with this thing. A Sith deserves better. Now follow me.

Valinor strode from the room until they arrived at a large room, its floors covered by a few short walls and ramps. In its center, some ten meters high suspended in the air there was a crystal, blue in colour and radiating energy in the force.

 

Bring me that, and then we may continue one. You have ten seconds.

 

Turrets, three of them, descended from the ceiling, their low powered blasters scanning for a target, and when those seconds were up, they would knock the apprentice back down to size.

 

((Try and fail, learn how to overcome these obstacles, Distance, blaster bolts, and frustration))

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

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Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

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Ailbasí watched Delta stride confidently up the boarding ramp. Part of her had wished that he would have just picked one of the two options that she had laid out, kept things uncomplicated. This was the opposite of uncomplicated. Now he was going to be on her ship and be all paying attention to things and asking awkward questions like “why do you have so many toys?” or “what’s an Ereneda Handmaiden Sorceress Force and why do you have like fifteen posters for it?” or “What’s cosplay?”.

 

“Give me a minute to change out of my evil mistress of the night getup, yeah?”

 

When the changes in her mass and figure had stabilized, Ailbasí had hired a personal shopper to pick up some new outfits. They were waiting for her in her closet, neatly hung and folded. And virtually indiscernible from one another to Ailbasí’s new eyes. If it had been her old clothes, she might have been able to recognize some pieces by what memories were attached to them, but these were all blank canvases. She settled on a fitted tunic with a V neck that had the words “Board certified professional hugger” embroidered on it and some ridiculously soft and fluffy thermaweave pants. An angled leather belt and knee high leather boots finished off the outfit.

 

She put an elastic hair tie on her wrist like a bracelet in case the night took a turn for the better and checked herself out in the mirror out of habit. What stared back at her though was an image of her in her warrior armor, glaring daggers over her philosophical about face.

 

“Oh come on, we both know that I can’t even settle on a favorite color for five minutes, this won’t be an overnight change for me,” she whispered.

 

The reflection reached through the mirror and tried to seize her head and smash her face into the mirror’s surface, but she grabbed the frame and braced herself, and promptly left the room after the attack failed. The pursuit of the dark arts would just have to learn to share time with the pursuit of hot guys.

 

Ailbasí found Delta where she had left him, and guided him to the passenger lounge area where she plopped down in an overstuffed armchair and folded her legs cross legged. She gestured to a myriad selection of other chairs and couches, indicating Delta could take a seat.

 

“Alright, Inquisitor Delta,” she spoke in an over the top Imperial Core worlds accent occasionally interrupted by giggles, “how would you like to begin your interrogation of the subject?”

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Where Delta found himself was jarring to him, the girls atmosphere had been all evil and dangerous, but aboardships looked more like a homesick girls college dorm. Not like he had been in many of those in his time as a vagabond in the employ of the Black Sun, but he had seen enough Holofilms to get the idea. To him she seemed very conflicted, which spoke to his heart. A girl hesitating before stepping into the speeder traffic that was the dark side. But was it his place to save, or to pursue her? He couldn’t make up his mind, and before he could she had returned in an outfit that was very much not what he expected. It brought a smile to his face and he walked with her to the lounge and as she sat, he did as well, though on some kind of exercise ball which shifted uneasily under his weight. Plus the durasteel armour he wore could likely pop the thing so he decided to get more comfortable. He grinned at her sloppily,

 

“Mind if I get comfortable as well before the interrogation starts? Plus it wouldn't be proper to get to know a girl unless she also can ask questions, so ask away if you want, let's make this a double sided interrogation eh?”

 

Ritualisticly, as he had done for many years he began to remove the Katarn class armour, beginning at his hands. Seals hissed and they were released, and he pulled off his gauntlets, freeing his hands from the durasteel which enabled him to slowly pull his vest and chest armour off. He kept his eyes on the beautiful feline as he did so, and to break any tension he started some small talk.

 

“Your quarters are very nice, they remind me a lot of my Jedi Generals back in the day, though she was…” He was about to say ‘Much younger than you and just an apprentice’, but felt that was an insult so simply pulled his chestpeice over his head to change the topic following it up with. “But that was a long time ago, you probably know the origin of someone like me, but in case you don’t...Hi i’m a clone of some mandalorian, bred on Kamino and trained by the Republic to be a killing machine. What is your story?”

 

Within several minutes of frustrating work he had left a orderly pile of durasteel and armourweave beside the flexing ball of air and polymeerine plastic he was sitting on. He himself was now dressed in a red undertunic much akin to the type he had worn on Kamino so many years before. He piled the weapons he carried haphazardly on her floor, and sat back, cradling the lightsabre he had kept for decades for but a moment before tossing it into the pile. A relic of a time long passed. A time of murder. Then he looked back at her, his strong hands twisting awkwardly as if they desired a blade or blaster to hold. “Are you happy here among the Sith?”

 

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Ca'Aran

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A message came in for Delta, no encryption at all.

 

 

"I have the Imperial bitch leader at Dark Sun Station. Send whoever you like to have fun with her."

 

 

It was short, and Zalis didn't really address herself. She didn't feel like she had a need to. Delta knew who it was and who she was talking about.

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Ailbasí didn’t respond to the question immediately. Instead she chewed it down to the bone, her mouth scrunched up and angled off to the side as she mulled it over. It was one of those simple questions that required a complex answer.

 

“I didn’t seek out the Sith in a bid for fortune and glory, in fact I didn’t seek out the Sith at all, they found me. But now there’s this thing inside of me that’s awake, and if I don’t learn how to live with it, it’s going to seize the wheel from me forever. And the light, the light is the same thing except you’re expected to just give control over while all the bits of yourself that make you… well… You, all that fades away. I don’t want armies and limitless cosmic power, I want to know that the sword on my back is sharp enough to cut through any chain. To exist beyond the Great Game being played and to choose my path rather than to grind down everything that is me chasing after armies and secret rituals. So big picture, I’m not happy yet. But at the same time, in the small moments, I absolutely am happy right now talking with you.

 

I’m going to stumble and make mistakes following this path, and they’re going to cost me, but that’s not really any different from any other path in life. Either I dive in headfirst or I let other people make decisions for me, or worse, I just live on the sidelines of my own life. But me is what I’m fighting for, not some vague dream of power or wealth. Besides, I think having things to care about makes me a better Sith, since I have more to feel things about. I’m definitely feeling things about you, and how you and I may fit together. In multiple ways.”

 

Ailbasí knew she was coming on strong, but after months of keeping her head down it was refreshing to be reckless with her intentions. She pondered for a moment before settling on a first question.

 

“What was the first choice you made after you were discharged from service, and what was it like after being in a super disciplined environment for so long?”

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There was a glimpse of kindness in her question, perhaps through a lack of knowledge of the Clone Wars or perhaps because she was a nice person underneath the Sithari personality. But what he did not expect was how with a single probing question that she brought back so much horror, so much regret, and those feelings of worthlessness. He could feel his stomach surge for a moment, but his tough military exterior saw him through. Outwardly perhaps his face became more hard, the lines at the corners of his mouth twitched into a small frown.

 

“Miss.” His voice was soft, as if what he was saying was impossible. “I had to learn to live again. We were chattel to the Republic and the Empire after it. If anything what I learned from the clone Wars was that the Republic deserved its fate. Most of my men were silently put down when strain from their actions in the war began to show or if they were too wounded to continue on. The rich fought a war against separatists without ever getting their hands wet with the blood of millions that died. So my first choice when I found out that I was going to be ‘retired’ was to live. To venture into that void outside the purpose for which I was designed. My second choice was to bring whatever revenge I could upon those royal houses, and those vestiges of the Republic. I have fallen from that path to pursue simply riches and blood because that was easier. We all have a part in the Great Game whether we wish it or not. For to turn away from the game is to play it for what it truly is, to find your fate in a galaxy torn by war.”

 

He grimaced. This was very personal stuff he was throwing out into the space between them, and he could sense his chances of getting some tonight slowly slipping away. So he continued as he could feel small ghostly hands upon his shoulders, and he knew that if he looked up he would see them. Always trying to draw him into the past, to be swallowed there. To acknowledge that he should have pulled that trigger on the battle worn DC-17 he had placed against his temple after he saw what he had done after sixty six. He had been a man without purpose, without the only thing keeping him sane. Without Her. He quickly looked up to the black coated cathari and smiled. Distracting himself from those memories at his back.

 

“I am very glad to have met you, though I cannot recall if I have ever learned your name. So we must start there. My pod brothers named me Ca'Aran. But you must also tell me of where you come, what was it like to have a family, what is college like?”

 

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Ca'Aran

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The war machines of the Sith Armada found themselves retrofitted exhaustively after their expensive visit to Kuat, replenished as much as possible on the dreary count of the sand world Korriban. Not much was to be expected here, save for the disburdening of a great many slaves to crop up experimentation and labor on this world. For a time, the crews of the enormous gathering traded in story and drink, and the spoils of their wars before it was time to bid the stopover adieu. The posture of the Black Sun vessels would remain to secure passage for their Prince, but the remaining Sith Armada would return home to settle themselves on their homeworld of Ondeorn.

 

 

 

  • All remaining Sith vessels leave for Onderon

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Ailbasí felt his mind slipping into the past, fettered by ghosts that wanted to strand him there forever. A robed specter, slight of form with grim demeanor and jealous eyes hovered behind him, clutching at him from decades passed.

 

“Hey,” Ailbasí said softly, “Come back to me.”

 

Gracefully coming to her feet, she crossed the distance and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, the way a mother might discreetly check a sick child’s temperature. Curling up next to him and virtually coiling around his arm, she looked like the antithesis of his rigid military posture.

 

“I would have gone with a nice steak dinner or flavored frozen custard for my first choice, but blood vengeance is cool too. I may actually have lived the same place as you when I was very young, I remember a floating city with white walls, and my nannies during that time were identical triplets. Daddy worked Imperial R&D, so it’s very likely that I was there during Project Genesis, the big imperial push for mass producing civilian clones. I had a super bad nightmare though when I was little about drowning, I still actually have a phobia about oceans, and my parents decided to move me to Cathar. It was away from oceans and the war, so everyone was happy.

 

Family… I get the impression that everyone has a different family experience, but mine was one of the better ones. Daddy worked a lot, but he always made sure to make time for both of us, even when mom got sick and was on bedrest. There was an intensity to him that whenever he was looking at you, you felt like you were the only thing in the galaxy that mattered. Before mom got sick she was super mom, maker of jerky and slayer of monsters under the bed. There was a fearlessness to her that I always admired, and it stayed with her even after the illness set in. Even when she had to stop going out and doing, she seemed to have a limitless number of stories for any situation. Daddy was incredibly intelligent, but mom was his match in wisdom and sass.

 

Mom worked on the Kuat Drive Yards spacedocks before she married daddy, and while eventually she got more into the personnel end of things, she had enough exposure to unshielded parts that she developed severe rad cancer. Bacta can’t treat cancer, in fact it accelerates it, so the best we could do was make her as comfortable as possible and control the symptoms. She has already fought it off way longer than the doctors expected, that’s part of why I’m terrified to look at my messages from home, it’s like as long as I don’t look, she’s still around, she’s still fighting.”

 

It was Ailbasí’s turn to be distant for a moment. It had been a long time since she had felt that she could be vulnerable around someone, and that had robbed her of a great deal of catharsis. Even so, she needed to keep pressing forward, so she did.

 

“Uni is… it’s like getting pulled in opposite directions between people asking you to be the most responsible that you’ve ever been, and having the freedom to be the most irresponsible that you could ever be. I had an apartment with three of my friends who were willing to look past my species. Growing up xeno in the imperial school system has always been harrowing, but I loved learning enough to shoulder through any pushback. And even when the administration wouldn’t deal with bullies, bad things had a tendency to happen to people that crossed a line with harassing me. Being older and wiser, I think I have a better understanding of the truth behind that.

 

The actual education part was fantastic, libraries with shelves that outreach the limits of sight in their length, access to experts in every academic field, and the majority of the people wanted to be there. Some of the profs were still racist jerks, but not nearly as many as in the earlier schools. There was apparently a big party scene on campus, but I didn’t really get involved in it. I was more the geeky hologamer when I wasn’t studying.”

 

Ailbasí pondered if she had missed anything before realizing that she had never answered his first question.

 

“Oh, my name is Ailbasí, but my friends call me Bashi or Ash for short.”

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What would I have been if I had grown up like her? If I had not been trained to kill and obey with every fibre of my being from the time I could talk? It was a pointless exercise of course, to think of what he would have done in uni, or how he would have reacted to a mother. Oh but if he could have a mother. He would kill for that loving embrace. But his mother was the blue tinted walls of a transparisteel cloning pod. There was no warmth there. No intuition to teach, no values to pass down. It was strange to him to be so very and acutely jealous of this young Cathar and of every experience she had. But her kiss had been loving enough, an the warmth of her body against his, her small hands caressing the muscles of his arm and he knew jealousy could wait, especially if she was with him. For what had it been that Kailen had said back on Christophsis, while she had sat beside him, her blue robe and his red kama blood soaked and spattered with clinging mud.

 

“Jealousy leads to a dark heart Ca’Aran. That’s what I said.”

 

And ghosts had the tendency to prey on every bit of him when anything turned or the good in his life. Ghosts that called him back. The desired his presence where he belonged. Ninety years before, where the victims of the first war for the galaxy belonged. But this Cathar was different, and the past could wait. If he was damned to join them, then they could wait another few hours, or few years. Before the melancholy of the lone survivor finally claimed him to it eternal bed. He looked into her crimson eyes and smiled warmly, if slightly stiffly. For now was not the time to turn to the past, but look and develop to the future.

 

“Ailbasí. That is a pretty name, what does it mean?”

 

Such a pretty name, for such a pretty girl.

 

“If you like learning and reading, there are many collections of historical novels and books that we have captured over the centuries. If ever you should desire them, you are welcome to them.”

There he was throwing gifts out like candy, when he really should be asking a more serious question.

 

“What do you want Ash?” It was not a light question, and not one asked in demanding. But an invitation for her to talk about what she wanted from the night, or any other thing that she could think of. He wasn’t good at flirting, but he pressed his forehead against hers. A keldabe kiss in the culture of his people as pale blue stared into crimson red.

 

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Ca'Aran

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“My name, it’s a bit of a mythology reference regarding benevolent otherworldly beings of magic and mischief, or translated super literally it means pure being of chaos. I prefer the White Fairy approach though. Did you know that there’s a theory that a lot of early cultural beliefs tied to mischievous and helpful spirits alike are born from untrained Force user phenomena? So many of our stories hint at greater truths that we just didn’t have the insight to understand at the time.”

 

The offer of books was a very thoughtful and sweet one, but it was also one that in her current state she couldn’t act upon. But if Ca’Aran was offering books maybe there was another avenue that could be taken of equal value.

 

“My eyes right now, I don’t see the way that I used to. But if the rumors of Black Sun being involved in black market antiquities is true, I could use my sight to verify the claims of your providers while looking at all of the pretty pretties. I think there is a way that I could see through someone else’s eyes, but I don’t know the consequences of it enough to want to risk trying it with you yet. I know that I can connect to people on some kind of spiritual level through the Force, but I don’t know the full extent of the connection or what it does to the people that I connect to. So maybe down the road we can read together sometime, but I think I like the idea of having you be the one thing that’s just mine, and not mine and the Darkness’s.”

 

Ca’Aran’s last question was another simple question with a complicated answer.

 

“I want to find a way to move forward on my terms, to understand the Darkness enough to not be a slave to its hold on my life. Earlier in the night I saw you as a pretty distraction to have fun with and then move on, but after talking with you, I feel like there’s so much more to you than just a one night stand. I know that giving a pfask about people as a Sith is supposed to be a weakness and therefore a no no, but I think that the way that you are willing to challenge my expectations and speak fearlessly is worth a little weakness for the sake of growing. I guess what I’m trying to say is, no matter what happens tonight, I want a second date.

 

Taking advantage of their closeness, Ailbasí playfully licked Ca’Aran’s face and with a mischievous smile spoke again.

 

“Besides, I’ve licked you so you are mine now, that’s how the rules work and the ghosts will just have to deal with it.

 

I don’t know what wanting a long term thing means in regards to tonight. I’ve always been the charge ahead sort of person for anything that I’m passionate about, but I don’t exactly have the best track record of long term relationships. If you hadn’t already turned down my initial proposition, I would be worried that you yourself just wanted a one night stand, and didn’t care about me. But I don’t think that’s the case. I think that deep down underneath all of that regret and despair over outliving your war is someone willing to strive for new meaning in life. I’m not suggesting that I am your key to salvation, anyone that pins all of their hopes on one person is going to get pfasked one way or another, but I bet it has been a long time since you did something that would make the ghosts that haunt you jealous. So stay, and be happy, whether that means just being close, or a marathon event that deprives both of us of the ability to walk the next day. Just be here, instead of in the past, and comm me after. That’s what I want. Although if we do just cuddle, I’m not liable for any less than chaste groping that may occur. Also, you’re history, I love learning about history, in depth, and have poor impulse control. THE ABS MADE ME DO IT, I’M JUST A SWEET DEFENSELESS VICTIM OF YOUR DEVIOUSLY SEDUCTIVE MUSCULATURE!”

 

Emboldened by her own silliness, and on a giggling high from being herself again, she leaned in for a long kiss, hoping that it would convince Ca’Aran to take her back to her room.

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The lick was ticklish and it traced the line of an old scar up to right below his eye. The gesture brought a smile to his face and he laughed heartily as she laid claim. His smile stayed as he picked the lithe girl up and carried her to the room only a few meters away still locked into that passionate kiss. When he broke for air he smiled with a grin,

“You might love history, but have you ever had anything mass produced?”

 

_________________

 

Three hours later

 

_________________

 

Ca’Aran sat beside her, tangled in the mess of her sheets and staring up to the ceiling where some band that he did not know’s holoposter slowly rotated overhead. He felt strangely clearheaded, as if the last few hours hadn’t been exhausting but incredibly restful, though he wished he could have a breath of those flimsplast tobacs they used to hand out during the war to the troops. But alas he was plum out, so he simply lay where he was and thought about all she had said. Darkness, Salvation, Grace, Weakness. His heart in turmoil as it began to reflect on his past in black sun. Turning over to throw an arm over her he spoke softly in case she was asleep.

 

“Ash, do you think someone who has done great evil can ever been redeemed?”

 

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Ca'Aran

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“Redemption is for people who are looking for the permission of others to move on from their past actions. Be a good man, or not, because the truth is that is the simple choice that needs to be made. Being a good man isn’t about what you did, it’s about how you plan to conduct yourself in the choices to come. So leave the moral arithmetics to the hardcore philosophers and just be. Hells, you don’t even need to be a good man, you could just be a decent one.”

 

Ailbasí gently wrapped her fingers around Ca’Aran’s forearm, enjoying being held and the feeling that someone thought she was worth holding onto. She couldn’t sleep before because she was afraid that she would wake up alone, but that simple gesture dispelled the fear like an evil curse being broken.

 

“Or are you asking for redemption for that last line you used, because that was pretty terrible. I almost called the whole thing off right there. I’m glad I didn’t though. Tell you what, get some sleep and if it’s still on your mind we can talk about it tomorrow while I train. I’ll be working on recovery training, so I’ll look like a complete spaz, but it’s actually super useful for real combat.”

 

One last kiss and then she drifted off into a deep sleep that was so blissful that she would stab anyone that interrupted it.

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  • 2 weeks later...

It took a very long time to fall asleep, even with the comforting warmth of a woman beside him or the soft sounds of her footsteps while she trained. He stared up at the ceiling as he felt her soft breathing. Every inhale and exhale he could feel the soft fur bristle against his arm as he held her very close. When he finally drifted off it was to feelings of love and mild depression. For no matter how much he had worked and slaved for the Black Sun, they had never brought him this kind of feeling.

 

Was this love?

 

He couldn’t answer that. And though he hadn’t been in love since the clone wars, he knew it was far too early to pursue such a thing.

 

When he awoke some half a dozen hours later, it was from a dreamless sleep. A restful sleep. He lightly kissed the back of her neck and untangled himself to begin his own training regimine.

 

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Ca'Aran

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  • 2 weeks later...

Ca’aran had managed to sleep through Ailbasí’s alarm soundly, so rather than force the issue, she let him get some much needed rest. While the other times had been under different circumstances, she had plenty of experience in slipping away the morning after. She departed her ship armed and armored for training, and made her way to one of the sparring fields. After a certain point in Sith training, apprentices had to spar against training droids rather than each other to keep the med bays and morgues from overflowing. Of course when living opponents were required slaves could be provided, but recovery training was less about the opponent and more about adapting to unavoidable setbacks.

 

Ailbasí donned the recovery training overlay, a tangle of wires, connectors, and power sources that would randomly cause numbness, muscle twitches, and muscle failure throughout the fight. Most warriors on both sides only trained in unhindered sparring, but often what decided a duel was whether or not a combatant could recover from being put off balance or forced into poor footing. This was a particularly painful regimen that could easily lead to sprained or twisted joints, but she felt it was necessary. It also played into an element of combat that Ailbasí was increasingly becoming more and more dominant in, ground fighting and grappling. Gwn Marwolaeth came readily to her hand as the match began, and a brutal training session began.

 

By the time that she had completed her routine, her body felt like one giant bruise. Ailbasí was no stranger to pain, but she also made sure that she didn’t do anything that would stall recovery, moving gingerly to the nearby locker room. After hitting the showers she changed into a more forgiving outfit of Sith robes and carefully stowed her armor in a duffel. Gwn Marwolaeth rested in her back sheath, ever ready for a time of need.

 

As she drug herself out of the locker room to return to her ship, she found herself facing a small formation of soldiers at parade rest. While there were minor variations, the armor and insignias of the troops identified them as Darkwatch, a private security firm that her father had founded. For half a second she thought that they might be here to escort her home… but one of the minor variations that she noted was that they bore the heraldic devices of the Dark Lord, sporting arachnid insignias and spiderweb motifs. They were definitely waiting for her, but their stances were not exactly combat ready, and even elite troops of this caliber were not arrogant enough to engage a practitioner of the Dark Arts so casually. None of them spoke, but one approached her with a datapad with the expectation that she read whatever was on it. Just by the make of it she could tell that it was a securadisplay, a datapad design that could only be read from an appropriate angle and distance.

 

“With all due respect, I can’t read that with my eyes in their current state.”

 

Her father had used Darkwatch to protect what he cared about most, which meant that Ailbasí had been around them more than a few times, and from a young age had been taught to address them respectfully until it overcame even her propensity for sarcasm.

 

Stowing the securadisplay, the soldier tapped some buttons on a wrist pad and in seconds the area was covered in a sound baffling dome. Any conversation held here would be private. The focus on secrecy was new to her, but this was the first time she had interacted with Darkwatch in the employ of the Dark Lord, who was said to be a master assassin.

 

“The Dark Lord has sent us to collect you for an audience with him, we are to conduct you to him immediately.”

 

If Ailbasí still had a normal heart it would have probably nearly imploded at this point. An audience with the Dark Lord? The fear within her supercharged the pearl in her chest and sent her adrenaline skyrocketing, but even if she felt like she could bench a starfighter it didn’t take the edge off of the razor sharp terror plunging into her. Even for someone on team Sith, the Dark Lord was more grim bloody fable than living, breathing person. To be the Dark Lord was to be the most cunning and lethal killer in a society of demigod assassins, warriors, and sorcerers.

 

“I… I’ll have a servant conduct my bag back to my ship and accompany you immediately. I have a guest aboard my ship, may I let him know that I’ve been called off world without providing details?”

 

The soldier nodded and collapsed the security field. Ailbasí summoned a servant, gave her the bag and the message, and went with the soldiers to face destiny on Onderon.

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Aboard the Best Behavior, a spectral figure manifested in molten orange light. While the Jedi were more than happy to sacrifice eternity to be finger puppets for the Force, a properly trained Sith could persist through defying the natural cycle and anchoring himself to the mortal plane through people, places, and objects of import. With Ailbasí away from the ship, Dagon’s ability to affect the world around him was limited, but he had enough power to accomplish his objective here. He observed the sleeping figure neutrally for a time before flicking a trio of ghostly bullets at him. Despite the orange light they would feel like ice and despair to the living, and the man bolted upright in the bed.

 

“I’m going to ask you questions, and if I don’t like the answers, these are going to start coming at you a lot faster. Now what are your intentions with my daughter?”

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The sleep was restful till its bitter end. Where nameless and shapeless darkness turned to vivid nightmares. Nightmares were a constant for Ca’Aran the Recon Commando from batch seventy three. They had started more than a hundred years prior before the great sleep of carbonite and ashen shadows. Dred Priest, had haunted him both day and night as A2532 was formed from the scared tubeborn child into a deadly warrior. A trainer from the mandalorians, Priest had been the most brutal of the dozen men and women selected by Jango Fett to train the clone commandos. And his training had proven effective if not terrorizing for those involved. It was at a very young age that A2532 had scored his first kill in a circle of burning torches in the bottom hanger of Kamino 743. THat kill had been an honourable young fellow clone, and the feeling of his life leaving him as A2532 buried his vibrodagger up into his chest had frightened the young clone. But that action had carried him to the frontlines of the RC programme, and upon graduation Geonosis had come.

 

Geonosis

 

That pyrrhic victory for the republic that had wasted the lives of tens of thousands of young clones, and some seventy jedi knights. A wasteful start to a long war. Delta had been the only survivor of his cadre, and had been attached to a regular platoon upon the dissolution of his unit to assist as a guide and a scout for whatever the Republic put in charge of that unit. Some young jedi who was not qualified in the least to lead warriors. But when his hard eyes met her iceblue ones, his heart had never been the same. It was those eyes that woke him, or at least he believed they were as the Sith magics filled him with dread.

 

He sat bolt upright with a cry and shivered for a second as he looked around the room that looked like a young girls dormitory in the first years getting out of her parent’s house. His fierce blue eyes found the Sithari spirit and he drew back in fright but quickly squared himself for whatever would come.

 

“...Kailen?”

 

But the booming voice marked it as not her, but instead the guardian of the woman he had just slept with instead. An equally frightening event, but he met the gaze with stern recognition and nodded. Implying that he should ask away.

 

“...My intentions are not known even to me, for though I may intend something, the lady may desire the opposite. If you ask that I should intent to court her or something...perhaps? I do not yet know her. And I have every intent to get to know her. I did not know she was decended from ghosts." He pressed for his own question. Guessing at the source of this apparition. "Are you some Cathar warlord that I have not heard of? Or are you from the generation of Sith like Ar-Pharazon who sired the one I call my own daughter?”

 

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Ca'Aran

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“Cathar warlords lack the means to pass through the veil of death and threaten their daughter’s romantic interests. You would know me as Dagon, Allfather of the Krath sorcerers and once a Dark Lord of the Sith. I guess you could say I retired champion. And I was quite alive when I sired Ailbasí, although the pairing did require Sith alchemy, human and cathar couplings don’t provide the most stable hybrids without help. And blood sacrifice. Totally worth it though, she’s brought so much joy to her mother and I.”

 

Dagon regarded the man enigmatically before speaking again.

 

“A response of ignorance is an honest response. And I know my daughter well enough to know that if she was done with you she would have already kicked you off her ship. Just understand if you pursue this path, I will expect you to stay the course regardless of any harrowing tribulation. Sith are often easy to desire and hard to love, and you will need to be ready for the hard times. The dark hours of the soul, watching her come home covered in blood but refusing to offer an explanation, times she oversteps in trying to fix things with the Force. All of this and more is ahead of you, and you need to decide if you are willing to face it.”

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Delta’s survival instinct kept him from saying something like, ‘she has given me a lot of comfort as well’ or something equally snarky that would end with him killed by some weird sith magiks. It was also interesting to him that Sithari like Dagon actually loved their offspring. Ar-Pharazon had all but ignored Telperien which is why she had fallen into his own care. The revelation grew his respect for the long dead Sith that he did not expect. There was some kernel of good in the sith, and in that moment of realization Delta made his decision.

 

He would for his part, be the counter weight to the gnawing evil that would affect the daughter of Dagon in the Sith Empire. He would stick to the long road, and if not stop evil, become its rival. All while serving the Sith as a General at arms. It would be a redemption of sorts, and one long in the making.

 

“I will stay by her as long as she will have me, come what may. You have my promise.”

 

He extended a hand to the Sith spirit. As a sign of respect, even though he doubted the other man could shake it.

 

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Ca'Aran

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  • 4 weeks later...

Mordecai gazed at the training course. The turrets were intimidating, but would only matter if he failed. He prepared to run the course, taking in each ramp and ledge, every jump, his imperial training taking over. He stopped himself- Imperials thought such a way because they didn't have the force. Mordecai did. He stood straight, took a step forward. and reached out with his newfound abilities. Immediately, he could feel it. The crystal pulses, hummed with energy invisible to the unworthy and the uninitiated alike. He grasped at it, like a child grasping for a toy, for a new experience, and pulled.

The crystal responded, and the energy reacted to his own, the force obeying, whether by choice or by his own force of will, he couldn't tell. He opened his eyes, and gazed at the crystal as it flew closer. he was acutely aware that he likely only had a few seconds left, and gave a hardy tug. The crystal flew into his open hand, and he closed it into a fist, turning to his mentor.

"That was easy. What now?" he asked.

He could feel it. With every moment that he used the force, his connection to it grew stronger. Not by much, he wouldn't be breaking any records, but it was there. Over time, he would get better at using this new tool, until eventually, he theorized, it would become like an extra limb- an extension of his will.

 

 

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Dagon couldn’t return the gesture, so instead he signed out “Good hunting” in the Darkwatch hand cant. Satisfied, he returned to the ether.

****************

An encrypted voice message arrived some days later for Ca’airan

+++ So, things went well on my… ummm… business trip, and I have my first assignment slash job slash quest thingy, and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. A couple on a romantic getaway is going to draw less attention than a lone person with potential Sith ties. Not to mention the romantic getaway part. Maybe you could use your connections to crime us some fake IDs? If I’m overstepping boundaries, I’m sorry, I just really felt a connection and I want to see where that goes. If you’re game, give the attached coordinates and authorization code to my ship’s pilot. Our boss doesn’t want to us to use aggressive negotiations to seal this deal, at least not at this point.

Also, don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t wear anything too “Mando-y”, you’ll understand when you see the coordinates. Kisses!+++

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Valinor, the admiral and commander of the Felix Legions let his silence hang over the room like a black acrid cloud. There was no disappointment in the silence, just calm judgement, studying the young man in silence as he gripped his crystal like a trophy won at an awards gala. His voice finally echoed in the silence, breaking it like a fragile plate.

“It was indeed easy. Now replace the crystal in your lightsabre with the one you hold, let it bind to the darkness in your spirit. Meditate on it. And when you are done…”

The Turrets that had before been part of the challenge loomed overhead. But where the crystal had been, now lay tied up the thrall that he had spared from death. Her pain and fear radiating in the force like a storm. Her voice muffled in its tears as she strained against her bonds and tried to spit the gag out. 

“Rescue her. But for now feed upon her despair while you meditate.”  

((Meditate, then try to actually physically get up there while under fire. You thrall wont die. Fail as well, so that your character can learn from that))

Commander Valinor - Sith Lord

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Admiral 3rd Felix Legions

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