Continuity, Contemplation, Conscience



To battle a hero.


It would be one of many restless nights, by now losing count and track of how many cycles were disrupted. While others slept or were off handling their own affairs, there would be one distressed Sith padding along the durasteel flooring. Steps light enough not to echo, rooms sealed enough not to carry the sound.

The target of her fixation was something that didn’t belong to her. Not stolen, but offered. A saberstaff with a krayt tooth charm hanging from it. For now it was laying on the azure circular carpet, decadent in a way with the rolling fountains falling from one layer to the next. In a more ancient place the whole presentation would seem honorific.

Finally after enough useless passes of her feet she’d draw a breath and find the center point on the floor, she always did prefer symmetry whenever it could be found. Such a small order to things. Palms onto her thighs, knees to the floor, her body poised and in submission while her mind drew focus and quiet.

To any observer the only sound would be the gentle errant splashes of water from the tumbling fountains, the low hum of the ship in a landing standby to keep the occupants comfortable. Just a woman and a weapon.

Within however, a lowering of defenses, a gradual aura was recognized emanating from the blade’s core. The artificial exterior faded from view and sense as a rolling forest took the place of the various walls and decor, a babbling spring bringing out a soft flow of water broke the ground into sides.

One began with herself, still in that training attire she hardly left, mended from countless blows and gripping her form it knew her curve and her strains by now. But in this place, by this particular fixation in the Force she felt a little ease creep into her joints and the contours of her mind. A burden lifted, pains eased, however short lived it would be.

Then there was someone else. Youthful, and looking to her from just across the way before splashing through the brook with a laugh. Yet this is the one she was expecting as she let her eyes open to him.
This was Hero, Solomon’s kyber, made manifest.

“How are you?”
As if asking a weapon a question might be some kind of normal conversation, but she had to start somewhere.

“I’m fine silly, what else would I be? Ready to take on anything.”
The voice rang out like a set of wind chimes, not wild or unexpected, just reacting to the wind that seemed to spur them to life.

She found herself softening again as she listened. There never was any hesitation with him. This wasn’t their first exchange. And found herself in both a small adoration, and a gnawing jealousy at once.
“You always are. You never get tired.”

Bounding around he could cast himself into the leaves, tossing a few up in the air with a juvenile huff.
“Not really no. I have to be ready at all times, and it’s rare we need to really have to fight.”
His fists pump in the air, starting to box the leaves that fell.

Yet she didn’t move or stop him, his presence wasn’t a distress but a comfort. Smiling some, in the end of course he had to be ready, it would be his role at the side of the one who assembled him.
“Fighting isn’t what we’re looking to do. It’s just part of how we survive.”

“Of course. We get to have fun then, relax, play, and rest. No need to be so stressed out.”
That joy almost sounding like her own from years now gone, not a worry to be carried, or a fear to be held.

A plain light laugh came from herself, as if a mother took in the whims of a son, taking a degree of focus not to ruffle the hair of the little one. He wasn’t real, no matter how he breathed, how simple and honest he was.
“You never let anything get you down, do you?”

Never missing a beat he’d be up in an instant, working to climb up a tree to swing from one of the sturdy branches. Just a ceaseless energy.
“Well sure, Solomon has to keep his eye on the prize and stop being such a crybaby. I’ll stay strong for him.”

Her gaze felt hazy, her attention shifting a bit more away from the young spirit he took the shape of. The warmth was wholly intoxicating.
“You do so much for him, you know?”
The tether of the emotional weight started to tug her back. Her uncertainty, her pain. She couldn’t remain.

“Of course, and I’ll help you too!”

Those final bright words ringing in her head as the chill and hardness of reality latched back on. No nature, no longer alone. The crushing pressure hitting all her unnatural joints, those minor shocks that feedback through her neural connections.

She was back, no doubt to that. And it seemed this was a taste of the Light side.
In the depths of her focus the cauldron where all of her suffering, all the fears, the woes melted into slag as one to feed the engine. Up on the shelf there was a little pot, with some soil, and a tiny defiant happy little sprig of green.

She muttered a curse before she wandered now to the next task. An endless cycle.

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Beaten, Bruised, Breaking


The week began with Lord Revan.
IT BEGAN THAT WAY.

Reassuring and repairing each and every day.
Next it would be Lord Sohma.
Then it would be negotiations.
And it would be the Dark One.
To a permanent sacrifice.
Falling into a recent memory.
Then the trail.
The loss.

Hurling herself as hard as possible into the Force took her strength, she didn’t remember when she collapsed or how long it had been. She didn’t know if she could summon the strength to rise again anytime soon. Perhaps it was better this way.

Where do we go from here, who will save us now…

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A path backwards to look forwards…



An evolving situation was always what she’d call it. But in her mind the elements really were the same few figures and whatever strands that bound or broke only to reform again. She could have paced, she could have brooded, instead she kept running to mend this or prop up that as if to ensure a fading structure would somehow endure. Secluding herself she saw how it was dissolving in key places, she knew it was more than one person could handle. Perhaps in fact, it was not worthy of being held up any longer at all…

Looking down after composing the encrypted message, she had to exhale to remember to breathe again. Wondering now of course what the ramifications were inevitably going to be. Something was going to give, but she had to admit she was growing more tired. Part of her started to understand why others would simply just give up or stay away, soaking in success while not forcing themselves into this tedious and endless work.

At worst, she’d be the traitor stepping into the molten fields to be burned away.
A simple and resounding defeat that would cement her departure and self preservation in durasteel.

At best, it would be a challenge to everything that kept threatening to tear apart.
A reckoning of the comforts so easily taken, a demand for sanity and structure.

Some over the time they’d come to know her would’ve anticipated voices all clamoring over one another to try and get to the front of the race in her thoughts, but she smiled bemused at the concept. No, for her it was only one master, one purpose. That made it easy, even if the execution was endless, difficult, and draining her. The smile would fade as she started to realize through all these duties and works, what had she really gained? A gnawing sensation on her side made her feel inadequate, falling behind. She knew she wasn’t meeting her potential, let alone gaining anything anymore.

It was time to take refuge, it was time to get back to her meditations. Slipping into them was more than a concentrated effort, it was a step back in time…


A space station with a multitude of purposes. During the Mandalorian conflict it served as a trading post, a dock and repair hub for military and non-military vessels alike. Coordinating the orbital traffic and issuing a constant string of coordination codes ensured that travel to and from was relatively seamless.

But to keep ships going, it had to be equipped with a means to replace the parts that were either damaged or destroyed. So uniquely this station was equipped with a starship forge. On one of her countless excursions, she couldn’t be more than seven standard years, she’d always been warned to stay away from the red zone. Blue zone for medical, yellow for cargo and loading, ah but the red zone was the industrial and the forge. It was impossible to tame that curiosity, and an unsupervised kid with vent access was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Having already heard on the comms and PA systems across the area that echoed in the vents, the shift was done for now and a rare quiet would fall over the red zone. While the tired and soot covered workers limped longing towards their nearest cup of caf or other vice of choice, someone far smaller was scurrying above them to the vacant and less monitored zone.

The vents were a treacherous place, but she knew even just by touch which ones were exhaust from the red zone, the smell too was intense and hazardous. Confident in her navigation she pressed on until she had thought she could find a small access way out and into the forbidden zone. While she was correct and managed the screws and bolts with a pilfered multitool, she couldn’t have accounted for the steep and sudden exit.

Falling, smacking her head, her back several times it was too dark to know if she had remained awake through the impacts. Lucky for her she wasn’t out of it at all. With a groan she’d put her hands to the surface below her, a roughness immediately greeted her skin that she had never encountered before. Smoke and fumes already were seeping into the room she’d fallen into, the excess being drawn into specific channels by automated fans. But here and now it did start to permeate her senses and disorient her further.

The room was dark, a depth that reminded her of the void of space but missing the hopeful distant stars that broke apart the darkness. This was the darkness of the shut eye. Her attention blearily shifted to the source of the fumes as she stumbled, caring little for the guilty soot that she’d have to scrub off later before she returned to her mother. There was one opening, the warning signs would’ve been where humanoids might’ve been expected to see them, but this was a maintenance access, she couldn’t see anything without light.

In defiance of the darkness was a red hot opening, surreal in presentation. The heat of it was palpable, getting too close started to blast organic flesh with that growing cooking sensation that would eventually blister and burn. She could only get so close, it wasn’t something told, it was something felt. Peering into the churning forge made to melt those components and alloys down the angry orange eye.

Next to her she could feel flakes of the forge having blown up and cooled, metal flakes that were light as paper sheets. In a childish instinct she started to push and let them fall and float back into the molten heart. The pieces danced on the heated air before finally touching the searing surface and melted into nothing.

It felt good.


Yet in the depths of her forge that she focused her meditations on, while she poured the emotions, the suffering all to melt away and feed the fire she found herself turning once again to that little irritating potted plant.

No longer a mere sprig, had it been growing?

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All that we do in life…


Taking rest again, another round of injections to ensure the biological and artificial parts didn’t continue to wage war inside of the body. Her focus, her growth had to be elsewhere. Day after day it had been now sorting through the multifold mess of intrigue, standing in a position between all sides wasn’t really a metaphor anymore.

The push and pull of power, handling the ungrateful whelps that were growing in number and louder by the day had put a further strain on the situation. Clarity came in the form of uncertainties cleared between allies who had always been. Pondering how disdainfully their order was looked upon, she’d only come to now realize the bizarre harmony that emerged beyond all chance, all doubt.

Resting under an unfamiliar roof she’d found her way away from the others. She was growing increasingly tired, was it weakness, her limit she didn’t know. But let her eyes rest as she took to the comfort she so protested not but hours ago. If she didn’t she’d not make it much further. The dreams came as they always do…

Solomon, immaculate now with a certainty and a fire as never before. His strength and certainty were her envy. A passionate and unique maroon cloak over his armors, distinct.

Aiven, graceful, presentable, flawless and intriguing. How could her attempts at civility ever compare. A noble’s cloak and clothing, dark and consuming to draw one in to his designs.

Rissa with her pride and relentless force, the support she’d not expected. She didn’t realize how much she’d come to understand, she was overwhelming in capability. A valiant silver and violet attire, flowing with the way she moved and did battle.

Nrrax, his faith not in tradition but in absolute authority and following. He was the foundation that would never break to the end of days. A stoic form of gold plates and black filler cloth.

And here she would find herself trapped and left behind as they all walked away, tugging on glass chains too thick to shatter, calling and crying after them. In Xochipilli’s, Gravius’, and Valerius’ wake who was she.

Waking with a start yet again, she could feel the warm presence next to her. That it was someone new every so often wasn’t really a surprise. But the fear kept creeping in now, rubbing her face slowly as she struggled to get back down. Staring out into the midnight gloom.

Her expression damp she had to think now yet again to the past.
Was Alice wrong? With the loss of her Master was she incomplete? Was she only ever a tool to the end? What was her place, where did she really belong?

Distracting herself with tasks, that’s what she would always do. Meditation was taking longer and providing fewer answers. And then there were other nagging issues.


In the forge of her focus she thrashed the emotions that kept tumbling in forcing them to submit as she drove them into the molten vat once more. In the throes of her exasperated state she found herself grabbing everything that could be handled, a wild and rage filled catharsis she had awakened as she refused to yield.

But then she stopped.

She had the potted plant in her hands, her limbs trembled in a wretched way while her breathing heaved.

She couldn’t do it.

Her viewpoint shifted as she lowered it to look upon it once again, it should be easy to throw it, burn it away once and for all. The burning breeze from the opening promised to consume it and let it die forever. But she wept, turning away to cower in the corner well away from the only light that there was.

The darkness of it all was overwhelming as she felt herself drowning all over again, yet she clawed onto the pot as if it were a child of her own.

Slowly she remembered to breathe again, she was in no danger after all.

"It’s going to be okay."

A blink, a flash as she expected nothing to fill the consuming darkness. That voice was gone, dead.

Right?

Right?

Her eyes and tears would reflect what she never thought possible. The plant was not only still alive, protected by this hidden internal act.
It was now starting to glow.

Only in the darkness can we appreciate the light…

blueplane

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Come what may,



The momentum of cruisers would break through their next hyperlane adjustment. The void of cold immaterial suddenly filled with the bustling hub of life and prepared violence. Commanders and their forces drilling while the decks of dozens would ensure all readings were stable and optimal. Another adjustment as their eventual trajectory would be met, another jump through the systems all passing by in a blur as they advanced towards their goal.

Her eyes would come open again, she could hear it at times, feel it coming as the eventuality. Not that this was any prophetic vision, the assault was known from the moments following the Leviathan’s damage, the sundering of the Dark Lord. Though the feeling of the weight of it could be felt behind her eyes. Times like these is where she wished she could tame how the Force tried to warn her, not that she could begrudge the powers bestowed but it made her sleep all the more disrupted.

When she wasn’t viewing things from afar she had to tame more local voices and tones. After building structures, decorating them from top to bottom, she’d had more than enough places to hide away. Temporary closures as needed, her home being shared now, it was performing its purpose. Surrounding figures of heroes and beasts of fabled lore, she was entertained at how her own creations conveyed the battles without, while tending to the battles within.

Her mind had been a slightly repulsive myriad of confidence jaggedly sectioned in the midst of her humility and patience. Someone not all that long ago, so terrified and small had managed to find footing. It took her strength, her sanity, and yet through the thick foliage of distraction and uncertainty there was the shadows ended up being the binding truth all along. Instead of foes and divided allies they had been unified all along. She had just taken so long to see it, the names she’d been given, it wasn’t all just flattery.

Fatebinder. Whimsical, a pairing of words from a simple enough answer of the one with the capability to control aggression, the outcome of a battle on any field.
Dove. The timid avian known for pure simplicity and soft sound, representing a variety of images and ideals.
Queen. A dominant female force, the keeper and minder of all that was hers. A lifetime of preparation to ensure success over her dominion.
Monster. This wasn’t the word used, but it was more than implied. The thrill of discomfort, manipulation. The fallout from each provocative word and exposed weakness the only glaring setback.
Sith. This side of the Force. Destined, inevitable, inescapable? It was her placement, it was her duty rank and calling. Thankless, even brutal. How many more times are you punished than you are appreciated. You return to them, it’s where you belong, it’s where you are loved.

When they call, you come.

Her head shook. Everything was far clearer now. The choices being made were deliberate and she could go forth into the fray without doubt, without fear. All these mental taskings gave her was further certainty, too much of the noise and layers of each and every design and scheme, she had to mind that increasingly now.

Eventually a calm came to her in a simpler task. Committing her thoughts with ink she debated what to do next, but settled on something small and wasteful. Upon returning to her own territory for however long such would last she ascended a mild peak in the west. Leaving the note to the mountain air, she knew the storms would carry it, the rain would wash away the ink on humble paper parchment. She never intended to finish it, nor for it to be found.


The world looks so different because of you. Before I could never believe in myself.
Everything has a place, in the dark and in the light. I consider how our lives could’ve been so different.
If we had met sooner, if we had met later. Would we still be the people who stand here now.
Would it be better, would it be worse? What haven’t you said, what would you take back.
I’d give everything to hear you speak again…

The time of battle was upon Viscara once again. She was ready, come what may.

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Fatal Flaw


Ethos. Logos.
Two small words that rolled around in the mind. Strange that a simple conversation could settle so comfortably in the mind and take it up for hours and days. At first the green hued Jedi was a cause for some pause, she could appreciate another mentalist to actively challenge her own worldview. It was tragically far too easy to fall into certain rhythms, certain habits, only to suffer an eventual failure for it.

A small shake of her head to her own thoughts was all she’d ever disclose. Bombarded by message indicators in her sensory receptors installed in the base of her skull, the constant flow of data and information was its own plague. At least it had an off switch, she didn’t know how she’d ever sleep otherwise.

Taking another inventory of their equipment and hoarded materials, keeping the Mercury Phoenix in proper form and flying condition it all felt like an endless preparation. To be Sith was to be ready to fight, the methodical processes were only interrupted by mountain and forest strolls as she kept herself acquainted with the territory. Running over memories of battles witnessed or not.

A crunch of stray stone between her foot and the partly cobbled wildlands path that led to the pyre, her gaze would fall on the Community Center. Looking to the indents of grasses where others had fallen, even if it was only a memory that remained. Adjusting to the point where she who was Six stood.

The fury exhibited, the sound of a body falling on the ground in front of her. She had to strain a little to remember it all as the instinct that took her was consuming, time had flowed at a different rate, her limbs at a new strength. Only previous little piercing that sudden fraught veil.

"I am Six… you will be Seven."

No. A snarl and a toss of her head as her pace continued unbroken. She’d already made the determination she would be no one’s toy, not a piece on the board.

And yet in the same thread she could remember the sensation that filled her as never before. She couldn’t in her core deny something vindicating about it all. Her hand came up to her sights attempting to be held still, but it pointedly couldn’t as the tremble rolled through it even days after the fight now.

Giving a heated exhale she’d find her new refuge away from the rest. Only one other would have access to her in such a domain. She recalled the more recent observations of another.
“Mysterious… effortless.”
A smug grin hid under her mask as she considered the implications. Her strength and desires were resolute still, but to capture even a piece of her former Master’s excellence was something she craved. For now though, this trembling listlessness had to be brought to heel. The fight was over, her form needed to obey again.

Her senses drew to a close as she let her focus take precedence.


something in dark


The sight was not entirely expected. The opening normally that waited with a yawning maw was clamped shut. The tender glowing flower had gone to sleep with petals drawn closed. Darkness.

And then eyes. Nothing else to see, only what she could feel.

Inhuman in presentation, yet all too human in intelligence. This wasn’t her opponent, past, or distress. In more tender times she’d ventured into the crystalline caverns of Viscara as instructed, laying her hand upon a surface without suspecting anything, only to be confronted by her mind’s questions.

And her future design. It was her own form, morphed, but she remembered the dreaded presentation. Flowing in darkness, a brilliant red saber. How much closer she had taken strides towards this future, the saber hilt’s weight growling in her mind at her side.

The voice was hers, but rolling with a metallic grind that delivered the pain and discomfort to the unready listener.

"How DARE you. I feel your hesitation. I’ll rip you for that. I’ll take back what you keep trying to take away from me."

Composing herself, the opposition wouldn’t allow her ground to stand on. Slashing her aside to hit hard one of the walls of the chamber.

“You’ve fed me, you will not starve me again. You released me, I will never again be contained. Accept it. Embrace me.”

The screaming raging howl in her mind knocked her deeper into her focus, a weakness she hadn’t realized. Her body would fall limp to be discovered later. For now she was due for a new lesson.

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Theme: March of Progress

everspace


A song from a dark star.


Calm down. One more time.
Do you see the thread?
Chase after it, don’t think. Just go.

Standing abreast of the navigation viewport, it was a curious way to interact with the hyperlanes. A visual trail that would be nigh imperceptible save for those with the capacity to quiet, watch, and feel for such. The process wasn’t nearly as cold as she knew space to be, that void expanse that cradled the worlds in their relative rotations and distance. Much as the voices that guided her before, so too did these distant threads. Singing, calling.

But there would be no chasing after this thread, not this time. The Mercury Phoenix could be at risk with another botched attempt, and being stranded out in deep space, possibly on some unknown world or moon was just not something she could afford to chance.

You were willing to do it before. Now you’re afraid.

A sneer, a scoff, just like her own breath and voice. Irritable and sinister, this aspect of her had to comment on every step and decision. It was the potential of everything she could be, everyone else was lesser and prey to it. There were times it took a stronger hold of her when she allowed it to. To call it separate was incorrect even in her mind, everything was all one, but each situation demanded a different aspect.

But she only shook her head, settling down on the arid world of Tatooine. More work to be done on projects kept well out of sight. Scurrying away, it’s not as though anything other than the roving tribes would’ve noticed her as she had learned with extreme expediency how not to be disturbed, tailed, or troubled unless she wished to be.

Inside the bunker was everything she’d left it, layers of hazardous insulation to prevent any leaks or any intrusions. Besides to anyone else the contents were largely obscure instruments and useless chemicals, nothing to ultimately warrant the protocols put in place. After witnessing the potency first hand and the demands made by those who were ordering it, she knew the risks involved. One product created lethargy and ease at a cost. But this was going to be entirely different.

Weeks would creep by with her occasional appearance to the site. The process always the same, darken the transponder, settling under cover, entering the double airlock layers, and donning the protective gear necessary to prevent contact by air or touch. Standard droplet protections in the end. Apart from keeping the intense heat out, the interior was also glumly lit with basic lighting in time with a minimalistic attempt off grid. Anything more would produce heat and a signature that could be tracked. Everything had to be accounted for.

As the process begin anew, she’d draw out the extracted samples she’d been working with. In a way this hidden alchemy was both a scientific endeavor as well as an art. But just as anyone learning heavily on their own the process was slow and agonizing. With exact measurements the next attempt would be isolated into a container for her next experiment. The collected items resembling that of science and the occult by this point. Without further hesitation she began to pour her wrath and frustration her sorrows and bereavements all into the energy that would claw out into the container and the contents within. To the onlooker this might appear a divergent technique of force lighting, but instead of mere reaction with emotion, this was infusion.

sithalchemy01

The blood of the infected.
The shame of defeat.
Shards of bitterness.
Drops from mourning.
The burden of continuing on.
A mark of betrayal.
Denied rage.
Seething predator.

Falling into a trance state the hours would drift by while the energy caressed and manipulated the elements inside, attempting to control the wrath that was previously so wild. In a way she knew her methods were perfect for this, as in its own way her creation was her. To each who would take on this stimulant would experience a piece of her existence, condensed all into one small injection.

The final product was drastically different from what she’d remembered it initially being though. Worry entered her features as she looked upon it. Far from gold as it once was, it seemed her energy started to radiate through it more heavily. This was no longer her master’s creation. Exhaling shakily she could feel her energy seeping away as she broke off the focus, silencing her manipulation of the elements to see it still yet aglow.

Strangely the emotions were only going to last so long even if she’d been improving her endurance, the sources of these extremes becoming more reliable. The anger, the darkness inside her was worn out for now and resting to recover for the next time that she might be in danger and need to fight for her life. Her body would have to submit with it as she collapsed into one of the awkward corners of the lab. The protective mask fit awkwardly as it adjusted with where her head fell. Soon after her eyes drifted so easily back to sleep.


But it was always in her slumber where the trouble kept at her, yet she could never confess the truth of it in earnest. The dreams far from her focus, far from all the aches and woes of the world. A rolling distant storm over an ocean scape, her own body well on land and safe in the tropical shelter.

Yet she could feel something off, something she needed to find as it was lost, clawing through the untouched foliage that was unfamiliar and changing with each time her mind drifted to dream. An urgency, a fear entering her veins as she started to chase.

The malice that had accompanied her in waking was far behind and subdued, but the inverse was still out there. Somewhere, lost and hurt. Grief and worry filled her as the pace quickens, the slapping of broad leaves strike as the search becomes a panic. All this effort just to see… just to hear…

Kathea?


She couldn’t reach her eyes when she awoke with a start this time, she couldn’t hide how it made her wept for now. It burned, and she hated herself. She knew it was her fault. Worse still, nothing inside disagreed with it. A curse slipping past her lips again.

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Lost days


Get up.

There was less of an incentive to rise, less to emerge. Yet she stabbed the injector in, watching the dyed pink substance ebb and dissipate until it melded with her blood. The exhausted pull of laboring forward was becoming more than could be handled. Exchanging pleasantries, engaging in the day to day connections sparked no life further now. It was enduring between battles, perhaps this is why so many Sith she had witnessed seemed careless.

You can’t live without the fight. Perhaps the calm is too much to bear.

Wincing she’d pass by the normal sites that were commonplace. A world she’d think only of in fear now a definitive home after a time, not a concept her younger self could’ve ever mustered. Passing the pyre pit, the community center, all such places where she’d spoken, spilled blood, and spilled her own. From Six to Five, these harrowing shadows all devoted to one individual, or perhaps just simply one idea. The mutterings of curious and hungry minds hadn’t fallen deaf on her, but at the same time she didn’t even know where she stood. A languid gaze towards the not too distant swamps that had been singed and would likely look no more worn and decrepit than before, only with less festering a population of fast hatching predators.

You remember each of their forms, their numbers. You’ve been keeping track.

Her focus drifted west. There was sweeping to be done, the leaves and storms always coming to cause clutter. She’d look almost mundane save for her darkened training attire. She never saw much a reason to change her attire, even though she used to. Dropping her cowl to rub away the minor sweat that collected, it was nothing like when her master had drove her, almost holding a resentment in her chest for not having done more.

Living for those that are already dead. Such an odd way to exist.

But nearly every time she was meeting with others now there was always something to help sort, something to teach and pass along. The presence of the masked Lord-Overseer lurked in her mental shadow. She had to wonder along elements like her former study, recent exchanges with him had made her question how things progressed. Did she purposefully make it out that she had needed protection, or was this all entirely a storm of misunderstanding. The potential made her ache much as the gnawing gap of having turned him away at all. She desired desperately to look at the Lord-Overseer and beg to understand if one really ever loses their student. But between prior interruptions with summons along with an uncertainty to the possible answer, she had yet to send for him, to ask.

You reach and fill the void, better that than simply standing alone adrift, screaming.

Shuddering, the wind shifted. She’d seen her work pay off, the wildlife she tended growing in power and capability, her experimentation had allowed her to do some things right. By now she understood how things took time, how those who were bold would learn to soften and adjust. While so many had been away she ensured the Sith of Viscara would survive yet. Perhaps they were still growing in the wake of Revan’s demise, and Valerius might not realize what she continued to perform, yet she knew in her core that it was what must be done. Giving herself a moment of reassurance few others would offer she let her eyes rest as she leaned on the rake she’d toiled with to clear the training space of their little enclave. The spars, the arguments, the outright fights, to her it would always be a special place.

Perhaps they are right, perhaps this is all entirely impossible. It’s not too late.

A growl of displeasure escaped her throat. With chores and menial tasks done she had to withdraw herself. Day after day of this slowing movement punctuated by conflict and friction did little to help her rest. She couldn’t know what was stealing it anymore. The stress only seemed to build, the visions and dreams all the more distorted and forgotten. Marching now away from the homes she spent her time building, furnishing, the sanctum she’d crafted by sheer hubris and effort she’d make her way east. She’d disappear once again into the treeline, beyond the point where Solomon had fallen before, always stopping and reminding herself how she nearly lost him. Knowing where to hide was becoming a new skill to hone with so many hungry hearts starting to see her offerings. She could slip away into a sanctuary, slumping down against the first wall hidden away from the world. No one else could reach, it was safe, except for him. The weeping started, releasing the building pressure in her heart and head. She mourned, she missed, in the depths of her core even the molten forge dimmed in the chill that ravaged her. How much she would bite into the flesh of those she couldn’t reach, demanding their presence remain, to soothe her. It shouldn’t make her suffer so much to want to hear their voice, to hear him say again…

Kathea.

Force be damned, none of them could ever know.

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Increased Awareness, Necessary Tasks


Settling slowly, finally removing the surgical bandage from her minor medic stay she couldn’t help but run her fingers over the healing wound which was more or less done. A small stripe along her throat that would fade in days, but for the moment it itched so she self soothed for the time being.

Her haunts were varied now, company kept was lowering in diversity but still she needed to keep to herself at times. Considering the last few days had been largely in a meditative state among her largely quiet buildings, she had the means and the quiet to delve into her own thoughts and focus. Ensuring a new degree of housekeeping in that dark sanctuary lit by the flames devouring and contained. But a degree of routine ensured that they would never escape or die, understanding now this endless process.

She’d spare a glance to the blue flowers, softly glowing aside as she couldn’t find the heart to fully discard them, noticing their luster wasn’t quite so bright. But she didn’t have time to mourn the failing light. If anything it was necessary, even if she couldn’t bring herself to destroy it outright, this was an inevitable death. Understanding it now, it was the hope of some brighter piece, as if her past hadn’t fully died. Those Jedi and wanderers now further away letting that dream and softer side gradually perish. Everything was a metaphor given a visualization on purpose, perhaps a sentient’s way of coping with the Force in all its aspects and confusion.

Pulling herself from such a rut though was essential, walking through life with one foot in the Force and the other in the galaxy spanning politics and powers that be was necessary. Heading to her ship she’d simply run over some additional calibrations, checking over the hull and engines in yet another methodical sweep. With activity stirring near Mon Cala there was a gnawing ache in the Force that kept waking her up. ’Don’t be caught off guard, remain ready.' A low huff and a snap she contemplated then how Lord Valerius might even be feeling by now. This place within the Sith felt strange and far less intimate, but she’d seen what effect strongly bonded masters and learners suffered, and while she carried adoration she understood in the end he was only human and having to toil in his own circles to keep them alive, and to carve a better future.

With that thought cemented, she knew now that it was time to ensure he had more information about local behaviors and situations. It was one thing to be alerted when the situation merited it, but an urge she couldn’t quite place demanded that this information be sent. Be it right or wrong, her instinct was not something she ever ignored. One day she knew it would end in a tragic backfire, but thus far it hadn’t so as a predator on the scent of potential prey she was relentless in fulfilling whatever struck her. A low huff as she settled into the confines of her on board laboratory and medbay, sealing it shut for the time being and allowing her shadow to pass by the statue memorial of her now deceased master. Picking up a piece of broad metal she’d left discarded, a faint smile as she recalled its prior use. How there could be uses for any tool. Even the awakened wrath and rage was pleased to see it, only wanting more. But with the mess cleared she could settle down on the cot and draw out a proper secure encryption datapad.

Composing reports was a gradually becoming a familiar task, but she didn’t find herself disliking it, only wishing she had more to share. Aside from a direct copy sent without redactions to Valerius’ secure communications, she ensured that a biometric lock would help keep this information secure for the time being. It was a step far further than she was used to going, but in this day and age one really couldn’t be too careful. As her retina was scanned to initiate the process she removed the casing of her thumb augmentation, plugging the jack of it into the appropriate port. Issuing a small sigh of relief, this was a device she knew, there wouldn’t be any worries while she composed with her neural interface. To anyone else the process would take minutes, looking as though she was staring off in some deep thought, fingers twitching restlessly and with no pattern to be found.

SHRIIK SERUM
º CLASS: CONSUMABLE
º DESCRIPTION: INJECTABLE, POTENTIAL INJESTABLE HYPER-STIMULANT CAPABLE OF OVERTAKING USER, UNSTABLE, UNRELIABLE
º DETAILS: ALCHEMICALLY MANIPULATED LIQUID CRYSTAL FROM VISCARAN CAVERNS
º SOURCING: NON SUSTAINED, REMAINING AMOUNTS DWINDLING IN SECURE CARE
º UPDATE: TWO DIVERGENT STRAINS ARE BEING CRAFTED FROM THE ORIGINAL SERUM, STARDUST [INTETNION: NARCOTIC/PAIN REDUCTION] AND ONE UNNAMED VARIANT [INTENTION: COMBAT STIM] STILL IN DEVELOPMENT


DARTH MALIGAR
º CLASS: LOCAL THREAT; REJECTION/DEFIANT OF ALLIANCE POTENTIAL
º DESCRIPTION: PHYSTICAL CHARACTERISTICS: BLACKENED EYES AND BURNED SEMI-SEALED LIPS [ACOLYTES SHARE SIMILAR PHYSICAL FEATURES]
SOURCING: HIMSELF, FIVE TO SIX ACOLYTES [NOT INCLUDING DECEASED], ONE APPRENTICE [NOT ENCOUNTERED]

º DETAILS: MALE, DEVARONIAN, SPECIALIZING IN MENTAL MANIPULATION FROM EXTENSIVE DISTANCES, LIGHTSABER ARTS, AGE: UNDETERMINED [THEORIES SURROUNDING THIS VARY FROM EXCESSIVELY OLD [UNLIKELY], POSSIBLE TRANSFERRENCE TO ACOLYTES[?]], ENGAGES IN MANIPULATION ATTEMPTS TO FOIST SITH CONTROL OVER VISCARA AND VELES [AS SUCH EXTREMELY UNLIKELY TO BECOME AN ASSET]

º UPDATE: POST DISPATCH OF VELLEN CREATURE HOARD HIS ACTIVITIES HAVE LESSENED SUBSTANTIALLY, SUSPECT LAYING IN WAIT FOR THE TIME BEING
[REDACTED] HAS ALSO ENCOUNTERED MALIGAR AND ASSOCIATES, HAVING A FORCE LINK TO [REDACTED] THERE IS POTENTIAL CONCERN THERE SHOULD BE COMPROMISE OR THE THREAT BE REDIRECTED ONTO THE VISCARAN SITH ENCLAVE

STEALTH DRIVE GENERATORS
º CLASS: ASSET - STARSHIP MOBILITY
º DESCRIPTION: EXPERIMENTAL TECHNOLOGY, ONLY ABLE TO BE FITTED TO SHUTTLE AND SMALLER SIZE AND WEIGHT CATAGORY STARSHIPS
º DETAILS: FAILS AFTER SINGULAR USE TO AND FROM A LOCATION
º SOURCING: HUTTS, NOT CHEAP
º CONTACTS: NELL [MALE TWI’LEK], BASHIRA [HUTT]


// I may have the hutt name slightly wrong, apologies. //

With the information catalogued and sent, she’d lock down the device and hide it well enough away. The warning remaining to any who would try to tamper with it.

[WARNING. THIS DEVICE IS LOCKED AND RESTRICTED, ATTEMPTS TO HACK WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE NOTIFICATION TO OWNER :KATHEA SINRAE: AND SELF DESTRUCTION OF THIS DEVICE.]

Oddly enough once it was all written, she felt better. Perhaps she’d sated this urge of hers for now. Although now something else caught her senses, but where to head off to next, where to go…

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Just stop everything, and breathe…
Part 1


Pressing forward, she took the Phoenix off the beaten track for a change. Former comforts were falling away, little distractions to keep her occupied were being driven back into hiding, she couldn’t hide the disappointment this time around. Not one but two learners lost in short time, in a way she was almost doubting that she’d find anyone worthy. But something weighed on her more. The Hutts increasing their presence with ‘encouragement’ no doubt from Malak’s side of things, she didn’t know just how many more of these encounters there would be. Even within her own darker thoughts seemed irritated and dullened by the experiences of what they fought. Whatever hubris and strength had manifested she couldn’t admit a slight shake from the ordeal.

“Immersed in darkside of Korriban.”
The word corruption had slipped out, a typical outburst from those who consistently fear it. An act that took time, not entities so easily replaced, or forgotten. Brought to heel by only a creator. Pure, yet enslaved. One hand had pity, the other a degree of envy. Why did power always come at such a distressing cost. She and the ship hadn’t come out of hyperspace yet, she could roll and close her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d wonder how far she could let herself fall. How ironic it was that others were targeted as if they were weaker than she. Public hunts to try and secure public defeats, she’d always managed to thrive just under the surface guiding the thoughts and fears, always making a point to fill in both as a comfort and a use. Things she herself might lack, but everyone needed.

The sound of the notification, hyperspace travel was concluding as the ship and pilot pulled into a sublight flight. A sight greeted her, she held her breath as the view changed considerably. This was new territory after all. Initially she’d considered the venture alone, but the grunt of the Trandoshan beside made his presence known. While she could fly, he certainly could be a guide.

Veering away from the system where Revan stood alongside their own on Kashyyyk, they instead returned now to a different verdant world. The waterways and varying emerald maze of forests, plains, and jungles of Trandosha unveiled themselves once again. But the appearance that should have caused some delight, some familiarity was a sour memory seeking to be amended. One left for her health and inexperience, the other departed with disfavor from his kind.

Endeavoring to follow the former trail she attempted to quiet and listen, something she’d failed to do in her previous arrival. She remembered it more vividly than ever…

Hearing it all from afar as a beckoning sound, trying to strike her head with the flat of her palm. Perhaps it was some wiring misfiring in her senses, and some feedback from the cybernetics. But it just wouldn’t go away.

It didn’t speak, only yearned, feeding into her instincts that brought her along like a tethered unseen leash towards the shuttle heading for a descent to the surface. But nothing good comes from going planetside, her mother had gone once and never returned. Yet this pull was horrible, vile, choking her in any attempt to defy it, so utterly rewarding and soothing to do as it bid her. Was this the power acting up again? She didn’t know anything else at the time.

Clawing into the compartment barely big enough to fit herself, it had the scrapings of some other droid, likely maintenance that could fold far better than she. But no one would notice, no one would even think to look. Not even knowing when they departed, not knowing when they set down aside from the sound’s growth, she would wait until the tether pulled taut again. Scrambling out, it was not chance that moved her unseen from those who were meant to be there.

But what followed after was both dream and nightmare ensnared in one. Within hours she felt the damp storm touch her skin, the natural humidity weighing down her clothing. A thorny root catching her leg and forcing her to stumble on in discomfort, the sickness of her weakened immunity already starting to succumb. Dragging herself half along on a limping foot until she tumbled forth. The ground coming fast, she was certain this would be the last sight she’d witness.

Never did she hit. A reptilian clawed hand catching her, a sinister grimace in their features, some attempt at a bemused smile. “Not have slave fall into hands before!”

Nrrax brutally killed that arrogant Dosh, but his reasons were far different at the time, their meeting all seemingly an entirely slim and implausible chance. Yet here they were.

Reaching over he’d bring out a new injector to reinforce her health and give her some temporary boosts while on this natural battlefield. There wouldn’t be that feverish haze induced stupor this time around with a little preparation. Locking down the Phoenix only the two of them could enter or exit for now, even though they took plenty of precaution by remaining well away from the more populated areas. While they might have had aid from Sith in the past these continued to be tumultuous times.

Stepping out of the hangar he had to fully rely on her senses honing in on the old sensations, all unseen, silent. Yet their trust had always been tested and always endured, this day was special and yet in aspects no different than their other missions. Slinging the gear on his back they were making certain to have all they needed for the days ahead.

What once was a chorus of chaos and a throb of feelings had arranged themselves into the threads she’d attuned herself to seeing. A visual manifestation akin to following the strands of an arachnid into their silky nest. No foliage nor misty path would cause them to lose their way. To many a young and inexperienced Trandoshan this territory was known colloquially as “The Mistland Maze” where only those foolish or braizen enough dare go, to prove themselves or perish.

Yet to her it was a simple path, parting as if made for her.

“I thought you forgot about me…”

Her eyes opened, beginning to step forth. Remembering courage.

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Now you’re here, look and open your eyes…
Part 2


Still getting accustomed to something as mundane as sleeping outside, the once troubled spacer was slowly getting used to the concept. Yet to ease the process of resting in a non-climate controlled space, and also to reduce the chance of potential ambush a proper camp would be found in a shallow cavern hewn out by deep old tree roots. The first day passing relatively calmly, yet there was no calm or ease to be found in a venture that could take days to weeks. Perhaps longer.

And harder still, the Dosh knew, was getting her to settle and eat. He’d planned a few days worth of rations, but if such ran out there would be the need to fall back to his old skills of hunting to keep them sated. To many Kathea had unusual needs, but being especially cautious about her food was one he was typically capable of overcoming. He’d seen the changes by now, her willingness to come out of the shell he’d first found. Whether he knew how Solomon, Corbin, and Kairos had aided his own efforts in getting her to eat new things was hard to be certain of.

Even so the second day came and started to fade, already having to look for an additional shelter when the Warrior put her hand up demanding a sudden quiet. The location they found themselves in didn’t appear particularly remarkable, just a deep section of the maze as ever. Knowing himself and knowing her capabilities Nrrax needn’t worry, only pausing and waiting.

Striding along and finding a bit of softer loamy soil with longer grasses, with her saber drawn out already she’d soon silence it as she fell into a familiar meditative state. Allowing herself to feel the defiant heartbeat determined to survive, before calming and quieting to allow herself focus and expanding her awareness.

Slow breaths, deeper, this wasn’t a fight but instead a search. Straining to listen even as the threads were all over this area, unseen and entrapping. Perhaps this was a reason so many perished in this part of the world, hard to know.

haze 002


Slowly but surely the world around faded and dulled, not completely out of sight, but out of color and out of touch. A greyscale haze eclipsed the space around her, the sounds all blotted out along with it. Not something that disturbed her though most often this was only ever in the sanctum of her mind and focus.

Yet it wouldn’t take long for the weaver of these little trails to make itself known. First climbing along on tiny legs barely out of sight, a surprised breath coming from herself as she felt the tickling embrace of each little foot pressing on the hairs of her arm. It was no bigger than a standard arachnid species, but she was wearing robes, padding, and yet she could truly feel this being walking along and approaching her. Tiny opal eyes gazing up as they regarded her trance state now peering back.

“You went away, now back again.”

A squint, she felt like she should know who this was. The voices shifted and overlapped, female and male, all speaking in a fervent hum. Alice once held such a tone, though her appearance was far different than this.

“So it seems you still haven’t answered the question you first came with. Remember it, now?”

Softly the teasing small feet seemed to apparated away into a swirling mist that resettled and reformed. What concerned her was the next form it appeared to take, settling down now seated on a larger protruding stone as someone she knew. Her destroyed master. Youthful features articulated in crystal, a sign of her first death and the last way she recognized the Lord-Inquisitor.

“Something about this one makes you quiet, makes you listen better. Threats of violence, yet you drank every drop. Never once did you turn away. But you weren’t doing so to prove yourself strong, you were a willing sacrifice. You wanted it all along.”

Mocking her, yes there was a suffering past, she’d hidden it away from everyone. And as if feeling through her own memories and reactions the next form would close in tightly. An oddly chilled set of fingers of considerable strength, yet delicate embrace gently brought her chin just a bit higher. Looking into the brilliant eyes of the shade of Solomon.

“You did all you could to hide it. Thinking that they’d believe it. Look what you made me go and do.”

Bitterness welled up in her chest. Playing through the moments that the news came through, how his disappearance and attack had rippled through those nearby. She nearly felt like she was the last to know. A wrath burning in her throat and threatening to close it with remorse. No emotion was allowed to be soaked in for long at all though, as that same touch shifted into something more feminine. This time her mother’s curly hair and smudged expression.

“Shhh- dear, you’ve already walked up and down that path hundreds of times by now. You already made up your mind about what you have to do in regards to her. And yes I know the prospect is terrifying, but when has that ever held you back before?”

A teasing and rising glee as the sharpened edge of failure and past gradually blunted into an acceptance. It was far too easy to fall backwards, climbing out of a pit only to be conquered by it and land at the bottom again. She could wrestle with it later as the mood of the moment shifted. No this moment was on the here, the now, perhaps even what was yet to come.

“Pay attention! Cease your tears, they cannot build you. The kindness you keep, the binds and bonds you maintain. How gentle you are, how kindly you are, you can’t release it now can you? It’s why the depths of the lake and waters keep drowning you. When will you learn to move through the unknown. You know how to trust and give in completely, regardless of the consequence to come…”

The tone fell into a wrathful depth, a fury matched and felt by her more aggressive focus. But this was not the same voice as it. The snapping and snarling beast of her primal rage and emotions was alongside her, bowing as it too processed alongside her. Everything experienced was contained within, from the depths of hate, to her desire for softness and love again. Yet now all was woven into one, a damning focal light on the whole of who she was, all other voices silenced just as it was in the trance. The irritation and frustration made manifest as the figure melted and melded into yet another guise, the effort of doing so in this instance causing it to shudder and struggle, a pain she could recognize.

Turning with a sudden stance and brisk aura, her clawing and mewling confusion was met with a show of something that silenced her harshly. Instead of being struck, what peered back shrewdly was her own figure. And yet she knew it instantly to be the doomed fate of a body falling apart. How many hours she’d lay in those hospital beds recovering from all manner of being put back together. How long would it take for the flesh to fail, to be faced with this shell of a body, a ruined form. A cage housing her mind as her humanity was left entirely behind. An onyx mask with a light indicating the remaining imprisoned sentience, a glare that could stun, a mind made for the kill.

Turning its back with this embedded now in her thoughts, it didn’t hesitate to simply begin its escape. That was the intention of it, how she knew this was more instinct, and with it came her concern. A deeper clawing fear, more than all the rest, more than losing herself. Rising up in the trance, leaving her body behind in a surge she thought nothing of it as she gave chase. And in doing so suddenly she felt the means to not only run, but to fly in pursuit of the vision. Realization surging and granting her strength and heights beyond her own understanding.

…I remember I needed to ask who it was I’m meant to be…

What was fear now ebbed into a need, a certainty, shedding the trappings of identity forged. Dropping the weight from her mind’s grasp, allowing them to hit the ground and shatter as clay masks that they were. She would leave behind the shattered images of a friend, a lover, a student, a timid little helpless being…


A surge in her breaths, she clawed and clung, even though her body scarcely moved in the waking realm. A stir in the underbrush as avian creatures scattered with sudden frantic cries causing Nrrax to immediately snap his honor-guard shock staff into life, a practiced flourish as he grimaced towards the shift and change. Under the guise of his helm his eye ridges sharpened in angle, they were not alone or unnoticed after all.


Chasing after the fading vision the surrounding appearances changed, from brush to stone, from stone to tiling and manmade pathways. All became smooth, sterile, and long, fused to ensure the hazards of the vacuum of space were kept well at bay. Rather than stopping to make sense of such she charged, chest swollen with breath as her steps felt hurried. Confused at once by the sudden realization there was a chorus of steps, yet she saw no others. It wasn’t a mere echo on the empty halls, but in that instance whatever she was charging towards now she seemed to be leading the pack.

Skidding to a frantic halt the mists parted as a figure stood in her pathway. The bridge familiar, but the angle now somehow wrong. An instinct to raise her saber now somehow already in her palm she was prepared to begin the fight with a bracing preparedness. Having become what she was, every day meant to train for the moment of battle, lest it be the last. Blood thrumming in her veins, a heightened awareness, the figure’s back was turned. Hapless, helpless, she howled in her anger as the burning reigned in her eyes.

“Who are you? What do you want from me!?”

As if time had stopped, the footfalls all drew silent save for the ones standing before her. A slow turn that showed no fear, not even a shred of concern for the violence that was befalling them.

The mist all at once thinning, parting. A chill running straight through her body to pierce her core. A final memory that came together like pieces of a broken mirror, the mask and identity impossible to forget. Words that were marked upon the bones of her soul resounded in a confidence she’d nearly forgotten, bringing her to her knees in a moment’s passing. The final words of the departed, something she might not have known the Force had held onto for her. Deep down the grief remained choking and holding her in utmost surrender, knowing worse still that the vision had only one ending.

Before the bright light surged, the body fading into the blinding mass into nothing, she heard him again.

"Remember… that you are the elite. The Chosen."


Her body sank in place, deflating slowly. Nrrax demanding to assess her awareness, “Kathea… Are you still with me? We have company.” Tongue flicking between tones he leveled his weapon with a seething hiss. To defend was his training, to protect her was his call.

The brush cracked and gave as something drew closer at a consistent hunter’s speed…

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Don’t just stand there do something!
Part 3


The shaking foliage, the tossing leaves and debris suddenly parted as the threat was met with a leveled shock staff hissing angrily as the one who held it. But even to the hardened guardian this appearance didn’t quite fit the build up of sound and weight that had just marched ominously towards their location.

A Trandoshan, younger by the looks of him, accompanied by two more following shortly after as they half stumbled and fell out into the open glade. Eyes wide and reptilian skin stretched with stress, a sort of horror and fear that comes with a hunt gone bad. Already an arm freshly mission, it only took a breath to assess and recognize the coming danger was more than the hunters could manage. Hissing feverishly in Dosh, which thankfully Kathea was by now well versed in after her time accompanied by Nrrax.

"Legs, voices, so many voices…!" Frantic, sputtering spittle accompanied by blood. The other two clawing to try and find their footing, raking trails with their claws through the mud and forest floor in sheer panic. The primal movements indicated only one emotion, no empathy would be needed for that pure and easily communicated level of terror. The fear of one’s life ending, the struggle to escape death.

It was not to be though.

A single piercing gouge came through the chest of the first to emerge, pinning the body from back and stapling it down into the ground through the chest as the ground drank in the surrendered essence. This massive claw striking out of the brush and withdrawing with a predatory near silence as the other two howled their rage and terror.

In another moment the howling stopped, another massive trunk of a leg swiped out, cutting the body in half with the sheer force driven through it. The other was pinned down by a sudden blast of adhesive goo that held their struggling form pinned down to the roots of a nearby ancient tree. Only the few twitching digits and clawing struggles beneath it indicated the trapped was still alive.

Nrrax stood firmly in place, ensuring that the Sith’s form would remain unharmed for as long as it could be. A duty he’d always known instinctively from when he first drew her away from this place exhausted and sickened in his arms. From their early steps of her quivering unease, to growing trust where he’d learned to listen to her, trust her, every moment building up unto this point. But in a way this was like any other foe to him. Experienced and seasoned he adjusted, watching for the movements with a keen aptitude, this was far from his first hunt after all.

Unfurling, the element of surprised now ruined or perhaps not intended for them at all the leaves and brush were parted with a deliberate slowness as he’d get the first look upon the source of all these ‘voices’. A mossy, overgrown creature, with petrified legs and an ancient battle scarred visage appeared in the form of a ship sized arachnid. Upon its back was a host of young creatures, but instead of anything moving or alive they seem also petrified to the being’s back, acting as a grave armor attachment. But now the multitude of voices made sense, the grieving ancient predator mother.

But the reveal would not last, the being possessed and witnessed now moved its legs in a frantic charge. Nrrax would never back down as he brought the staff up catching and slashing each leg back in a counter measure. The quickness of it would easily be reminiscent of the flurry of spars they had kept in training with back on Viscara.

With a noxious hiss and cry of anger it reared up, changing the angle of its attacks. While he was able to manage keeping up with it one strike fell foul and headed straight for the meditating Sith’s head. He intercepted the strike as his shoulder suddenly took the deep and heavy strike intended to be a fatal blow. His own gnarled hiss to join in the chorus of agony.

With that, he’d hear a new sound ring up through his ears, not even having to look as the sheen of red and the vibrant hum of Heart came to life severing the claw left embedded in his shoulder. Pain shifting abruptly to pride and thrill as Kathea was no longer a stationary target. The Sith in her full regalia now angled by his side in a prepared stance to join the fight.

"No, soft Sith… dead Sith… you aren’t even Sith!"

Growling in her chest, enough was enough. Stride by stride the two worked as a flanking attack, Nrrax no longer pinned by the need to protect instead ensured the attention remained on him as much as possible by swiping at the dominant legs used for balance, while lightning ripped through the air splitting the molecules with the superheated charge and wracking the immense beast.

"See what you are now, will you go begging for the heir to witness you, for him to deem you worthy of being?!"

Legs slashing out, the immense form lowering and having to quickly shift from a tall stance to a more crouched and evenly footed one, a turn that should focus the head on Nrrax ensured a blunted blow of one of the trunk-like knees bashing Kathea off her feet until she hit a nearby stone hard. Heavily enough something cracked and gave way as her senses were knocked from her in a sudden violent exhale.

Again things went dark, barely trying to remember to breathe while Nrrax was managing to handle the immense intensity of the beast on his own. His thicker armor preventing the legs from doing more than scraping deeply against the material. Formidable as ever he focused on looking for a vulnerability, as ever when Kathea was directly struck the damage always landed hardest on her, and that drove his instincts into a calculated malice all its own.

She’d been here before, though it was on another world not all that far from this one. Everything suddenly more ethereal, just out of reach. The massive shape clashing against another more determined one, she could recognize the combatants. Down and out of the fight again, already, she started to quake.

But she wasn’t alone in this strange state, she felt the little legs around her as the battle seemed to slow down, time becoming a strange and folded thing as the tiny forms came up to her, not just one but dozens. Looking to either side she drew a painful breath as the blow to her spine sank in hindering her breathing.

“What… is it now…”

“Scrap?” The first voice came.

“Princess?” Her throat would clench.

“Apprentice?” A shiver running through her limbs.

“Warrior?” A rising heat from her chest.

“Daughter?” Moisture collecting at the edge of her eyes.

“Love?” Swallowing down the lump in her throat.

“Master?” Her lip tensing, upturning in defiance.

The grip on her saber reaffirmed, the pulse not only in her head, but in her hand.

"Kathea…?"

Senses returning in a sudden wash of strength, she could taste the iron on her lips but she saw the bobbing form of the monstrosity that had lured her there, only to kill her in the end. With extended strides as it just started to upend the Dosh who’d held his ground valiantly. Just as his footing was giving way and his gaze lifted up he’d see the sudden swoop of the leaping Sith bringing down the saber in both hands to pierce the mass of the beast. That sizzling thud as the hilt was driven into the back while the wound cauterized immediately in the process.

A shrill sound escaping it as she roared her anguish and sawed the saber to an angle bisecting the creature in a sudden and abrupt force. Tumbling down and into the waiting grasp of her protector who braced her from the impact, knowing full well to deactivate her saber mid fall before she finally collapsed into him.

The twitching remains finally fell still as they were caught up for a time catching their breath. There would be scars, but for a moment victory was a breath clawed back from the brink. The voices that had been once so enticing fell suddenly, peacefully quiet.

It would be a few days to get home, to recover, but this was some leftover business finally taken care of.

[Fin.]

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Finally a chance to sit and think.


A few hours, that would be all it could be.

Slumped in one of the back rooms, everything was stirring to life again. The war machine that at times hummed so far away was finally opening an ever starving eye back in their midst. The Dishonored continuing making their presence known, Malak’s forces putting pressure once more on the Veles star sector as a predator attempts to close the throat of the prey.

Yet Kathea was barely stealing what sleep she could again, a simple fabricated oaken style chair made up of whatever components the machine demanded to produce it. Organic material, that’s all one could be sure of, which though was a long forgotten thought. Her fingers clawing against the arm of each end, temporarily claiming it just out of sight of the others, a backroom of the workroom where they had done their part to supply an entire array of up and coming Sith and Trooper elites.

But in seclusion her mind drifted, in and out of what sleep she could reach, it had become fitful once more. A relentless tide of the waking and restful stages of the mind, weakening her compromised form all the more. Yet her thoughts remained keen, recalling the wretched power of those entrenched in the dark side, those changed for the rest of their tangible lives.

Do not envy them.

Sure it’s easy to deny what is disgusting, what is terrifying, what is hard to even look at.
But these were concepts ingrained in nature, and as they continued their path she knew just how unnatural they were. The powers at their command, the designs in spite of the greater powers that circulated around, threatening to quash any error and eradicate opposition.
The caution might have been issued, but as her eyes dipped once with weight she couldn’t help but feel the pressure of her veins and nerves settle against the rigid artificial joint that replaced her shoulder.

For all her service and loyalty, for the agony endured thus far, there was still a deeper wretched fear. She’d confronted it on Trandosha with the ancient predator arachnid, and the strike of the memory wasn’t something she could shake now.

"They sacrifice their humanity… I wonder how much of it was left when they surrendered it. When they began this process." Her fingers clawed along the arm of the chair, pressing some force into it.

Jealous of their power but haunted by their surrendered minds, it brought her back to her early days of training, at the creations her master had once rendered. The concept of corruption, the words meant to make these deeds ugly, a deterrent for the simple and weak minded. At first there is the shock of seeing the dead walk, the choked breath of a final rest denied if they were even aware of it. And yet, undeniable efficiency and potential…

A twinge clawing through her brain, a wormlike writhing agony as her frustration budded and clawed. The darkness within thriving on the jealousy, as she watched yet another rise, another get past her own efforts and contributions. How much had she endured, the long quiet, the raging moments, only to still feel continually ignored. A pinch, a burn, setting alight the nerves that drove beasts to madness. She had to claw it back, get it under control.

"He trusts you enough to have you command without hesitation…" She spoke in a delirious muttering then, attempting to appease herself. Not that it would help much.

The surging feelings crawled in and through her skin like insects from the inside. A growing gnawing warmth that came from being dissolved, the growths unable to be killed as they tore her veins apart. Whatever fungus, disease, or ailment this was couldn’t be stopped completely. Only hampered… only delayed.

Her hands and posture all slump limply, in and out of consciousness.

How many years left do you think you have.
When will they realize how easily your loss could cripple the entire front.
What else can you afford to lose in this dying body of yours.
Who gets to decide how much of you is still even human?
Will you survive… or will it all be stolen. Will it all be for nothing, just like he was.

Her fitful unrest finally broken by a comm bleating for her attention.
Another task needed her, it would suffice as a distraction for now.

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Way down we go.


Lingering near the base was a common enough scene. The effectively sacred ground where so many had come, bled, and fallen. A fine place to linger, to stop and think alone. Her stance was common enough, that long trailing distant gaze that never did find whatever she seemed to search for.

A quiet, a calm, the lie.


Beneath the outward appearance was a thrashing and violent contest. Only the words of others ever interrupted this process. Lately though the conversation that had been twisting around had shifted into a more heated venom. It seemed prior contemplation was wearing something thin.

Having come from a wound rendered open by raw emotion and rage it seemed the forge she’d fed was helping to shape it. But the feeling was no longer a contrasting ally, as it seemed a foe was being armed from within.

Vindictive, irritated the movements and mannerisms were becoming all the more human, risen from the primacy of a beast now instead donning the shadows of robes along with the limbs she once possessed in full.

The voice still piercing, a parody of her own.

“You claim to have full control, you lie to yourself. You think those people out there are capable of attempting care, when we know you are just convenient enough that they’ll use you until you have no more use. The prey leading the pack of true predators, waiting to be eaten. You know he was right.”

But it wouldn’t stop at mere words, bringing out a saber matching that of her own. Better condition, as if ever taunting her that what she carried was never good enough.

“So diligent, so long suffering, all because you yearn for approval. Utterly pathetic and wretched. Clinging to visions of greatness while never being able to move anywhere but inside your own damned head.”

The strikes were quickened, moving with a nightmarish perfection and fluidity. With every clash there was something that landed, another inch lost, and even the strikes that were met still felt painful to bear.

“You could’ve been better, your suffering would’ve amused them, surely you would’ve been great among their flock. Even making him happy of all things.”

Her eyes went wide as the memory flashed and blinded her, making the next strikes especially deep and tearing.

The moisture forming in the corner of her eyes in the real world.

The strike of such rendered her helpless for a moment, the compressed void of that memory knocking her completely aside. Yet the opposition did little to show mercy apart from ceasing the physical battery. Akin to her own methods, exacting, pressure, relentless as one would push to the edge of destruction without evoking the final fatal blow.

“Yet here you are, here you keep trying to be this impossible thing. Attempting impossible acts that go against the nature of what they are. Kind and sinister, you wrap yourself in the extremes to push out further when it is you that fails to move in any way.”

Lording over her, an almost careless predator dictating the way that their target would now live and be forced to endure. Pacing with disappointment and callous momentum.

“How long will these ones listen for, how long does the fear linger. Can you even keep it all up, or will it just tumble down to drag you even further.”

Extracting a gasp, her own frustration managed to match the presence and force of that which was against her. It was justified even if it was hard, it was correct even if it could be faster. With a lunge she did not so easily yield.


In the wake of it all, her gaze lifted to the edge of the lake. A domain that held the depths she’d refuse to challenge. Watching the storm now roll in, the sprinkling rain that grew in intensity with the approach, a pain struck through her as fierce as lightning.

The storms didn’t belong to her master, even if their sound and feeling held a rooted memory.

No. These were her storms now.

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How it feels to be alive…


How long had it been.
Seconds, hours, weeks, perhaps even years.
The faces kept changing, respirators hiding their identities to protect themselves.

Protect themselves from what?

Another jolt to the system rattling every thought and piece of focus right out of place. A scream was all that could be managed. Gasping, ragged whenever there was a brief reprieve.

What was usually her own body’s failure, a slow steady burn, was a widespread ravaging fire. The thrill of both delight and weight of abject disappointment still weighed down in the corner of her senses. This Lord Bandon was observing, when though, she didn’t entirely know.

In this state, time was meaningless. Passing in and out of awareness at random, holding on, gasping for air when when she could, a cold and primal terror every time her strength abandoned her.

Would she wake up again?

Muscles tensing without control, restrained, helpless. Nothing but prey in the web of this existence. Staring back between one procedure and the next, the air nearly felt freezing, parts of her were on display as their tools lay strewn about. A shattered recording device, tossed into a heap of dozens with a limp discarding motion.

“Don’t bother…”
Her heart rate spiked again, drawing concern from these supposed medics, frantic sounds filling the air that were drowned out by the building pressure in her ears, her head.

She could see movement as if they were ducking and taking cover from something, but with the pressure building in her blood and bones all she could hear was her pulse, her held breaths.

“They have left you. They let you go. You knew they would, it’s in their nature.”
A hoarse and agonizing howl emerged, but the voice seemed like it had a hold of her heart as it began to squeeze.
“You resist, you fight so hard. But you are alone. No allies, no friends, no future. This is how it all ends. No Jedi, no Sith, no Revan, just this.”

Perhaps she should’ve felt guilt for those she’d used the serum on. She didn’t, now wasn’t the time to feel sorry about anything. Nothing mattered but the pain, but trying to endure as long as possible.

Even though one of the restraints had snapped, she had not the strength to even lift the arm as her form sagged. The vultures of scientists emerging to close in on their target. Her.
"Rest. Just… close your eyes."

She only ever dreamed one singular vision now, short, freezing, she knew not what it was.
But a new dread crawled through her veins.

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Return


The sound of a bind breaking, her mental defenses suddenly felt a rift as she recognized a shift in the environment. How she ended up next to this hulking metal laden male was not something she recalled. Much of what was experienced had left her, either rebuffed by her own willpower, or simply dropped by a primal adaptation to protect her. While such defenses might cost her later, for now she flinched with his strange soft words.

"Spared" "Home"

Striking her, just as one observes the cosmic happenings of a comet passing in the sky, hope pierced her atmosphere.


The weeks had been a trial beyond comprehension. Kept alive, but barely.
A body seeking to breathe, to move again, the thrash of survival akin to a fish seeking a pond after being sent ashore. Every struggle with freedom, safety just held out of reach. Strategically keeping no pace or continuity to the suffering invoked, there was nothing short of a predatory tear down to strip this so called Sith of Valerius down to her core. The Darkness within would not be contained, it would become overwhelming. Forgetting the sounds of companions, of safety, quiet, and losing the faces that held their meaning. The thrashes lessened, the fight harder to maintain, even though her being screamed and clawed in defiance… even if she had to do it all alone.


The sound of blasters, the sudden hiss and turn of Lord Bandon made her shrink down. A battered beast staring out from the cage of her broken body. A lump in her guts she could barely keep down as the shine of sabers broke into the room.

Her eyes could only go wide as she heard them come, as the forms closed in around her. A hand coming up next to her own, one that wasn’t made to strike. All quickly fading to white.


Sleeping for the first time in all these lost weeks, she would make her way with an agonizing care from the sanctum of the keep that was their base. Her steps only echoing a bit more loudly with the cane she’d requested to aid her mobility. The early morning trooper regiment keeping watch but saying nothing as she made no move to leave, only to dip into the sanctum where they had engaged many a profane lesson. The space where her first secretive meetings began, where she would find her own way in the Force.

Settling slowly on the center padded matting, ornamentally decorated to surround the center brazier, she’d slip her fingers along the floor as she opened herself up to the surrounding darkness. It was not as intense as Korriban, but still it was as she felt her domain.

Slipping into the depths of her focus, her senses extending and gradually allowed her mind the chance to feel outward once again. The practice having been routine in all her meditation before was suddenly far more exacting, a previously benevolent eye now hunting among the minds of those resting and barely awake within her proximity. Clawing with unseen fingers guided by a far more hungry and deprived mind.

Yet even in this process she’d have to confront that which now joined her. While the brazier burned in tandem with her forge-like focus that consumed all put forth, there was a pacing around her physical form. The resting blue flowers tucked neatly in the corner, a multi limbed predatory creature that had been released in the heat of combat, and now something else.

The voice of it was something that had drowned out most of all else that she endured while in captivity, sliding along it didn’t walk but its seething contempt was a slight contrast to the wrathful fury that usually kept her company.

"Contempt… what a singular, concise word for it. Naming us each, seeing us as beings instead of mere feelings. Primitive coping mechanisms." The loathing of it spared none, not even herself. Which caused wrath to snarl and nearly lunge. But with a turn of her head she held them both back from each other in a steep and shaky exhale.

When control was affirmed and restored, she opened her eyes slowly. She could tell from one of the slim windows that dawn was breaking, but this had given her a new ache to rest off. The process was draining what little she had, but the need to strengthen was a priority on an instinctive level. Rising with a quake in her ankle and legs, she braced hard to carry herself down the sterile halls of the base, remaining in a safe captivity for now.

Waiting for her on the bedside table was something small that caught her well off guard. Delicate, fragile, and far from useful. A simple winged figuring depicting a rising silvery mythical looking bird. Perhaps a rarity or exaggeration of an avian fauna of one of the more treasured core worlds.

Reaching forth with a quaking finger, she fell just short of touching it for fear of knocking it aside, perhaps resulting in an abrupt damage or destruction of something small as this. But she couldn’t help but stare, even as she maintained her grip on the borrowed ornate cane that helped her strides steady to sit. There was a simple beauty to such a gift, and yet she had no idea who had given it.

Softly her eyes fell to rest as she drew deeper breaths, lungs filling as she’d not felt in many years now, a moisture finally returning to her eyes.

"And you thought you’d never have it in you to weep again…" A dismissive and venomous scoff between her ears. Wincing, she raised her fingers to her temple with a slightly tense grasp. Things were going to be different now.


I just feel tired.


Exhaustion settled in, the hearth of the forge upon the Ascension was finally quiet as the sweat rolled down her neck to strike the durasteel floors of the newly anointed Throne class vessel. Refitting the entire Revanite resistance force more or less demanded hour after hour of the work to bring ore into purity, into form, and function.

Her eyes moved to rest, construction and rebuilding had come quickly at least on the exterior. Yet the lapping flow of the Viscaran lake where their base was posted still lingered in her pounding head. The aches of captivity slowed her still, even as the surgical cuts were sealing themselves with an unnatural speed, it still took time. And then there was the lingering itch, an unresolved physical matter…

Yet after days and weeks of testing, of the shattering fists upon her psyche there was a cleansing clarity that returned. She should be afraid of what had happened, she should find terror in the coming days and weeks, yet all there could be was determination.

The Sith had begun to let go more and more, the former rage, the tormenting deprivation of those lost. For a moment in her exhaustive slump she simply wandered through her focus, carrying of all things a watering can. In the endless clash of fury that was recent days, the upheaval of war and constant threats she could secret herself away to a place none could follow. None could ever know of.

Today she could take the time to simply tend her secret garden, the voices of wrath and contempt busy elsewhere. There was a delicate blue flower who deserved her attention. A memory of something simple, youthful, and pure that she’d keep close.

“It is time after all, to return the favor. Saber for saber.” Humming as she poured and stroked the petals. Falling asleep in a semblance of peace for now, eventually letting the dreams roll in though this seemed to be a new one…

In the back of her mind, the fog rolled in. An ancient exchange, simple, timeless.

Predator

Vs.

Prey

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Enough


It was spreading,
It was only getting worse.

Clawing until the skin would open and bleed, the wounds given to her as a torture had to be reopened as she panicked just out of sight. Head racing as she further grappled with the emotions, she had control. She was keeping a hold of it, but the stress was taking a toll. The way her body was changing and hardening under the armor, the words floating through her head to remind her of the part of the conversation that caught her off guard…

“Am I speaking to Kathea Sinrae or the Warrior…?”

She’d already become aware of how much she was doing, the shaking in her healing body. Passing out while attempting to bring Valerius some simple tea. Not knowing if he saw, or if the troopers cleaned things up for her by the time she awoke. The chill that gripped her as she crawled towards a heat source on waking.

When there were distractions it was easier just to dismiss the edges of her vision as a little fatigue, perhaps a little stress.

“I haven’t changed that much have I?”

Striding alone again, those moments when she wasn’t flanked, wasn’t surrounded. The details became more hazy. Even as the rain fell down on the lake base grounds, diluting the blood in her sweat, she couldn’t help but hear something she knew wasn’t there. The grip of someone smaller, bright and playful coming racing up closer to take her hand.

“You don’t look so good… kinda tired, are you okay Kathea?”

Her head only shook then, the waking world and the focus had blurred far enough. She would find somewhere quiet and relatively soft to hide away in. Unable to fight it anymore as the tears were allowed to roll free.

Gasping, her eyes rolled shut as everything fell suddenly quiet. The despair wouldn’t keep her awake further. How much further could she go on.

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And so it was…


Hushed tones were uttered within the sterile chambers. Values kept fluctuating by this point, the stress of onlookers rising and falling with it. The holding cell door opening as scheduled, the chilled air rolling out in a curtain of fog.

The transfusions had taken hours, cycles after each day until finally the latest test resolved, the mutagens would finally be stopped, the worst of their effects counteracted. The vitals changed permanently but stable now.

The scales and abnormal behaviors all seemed to regress into what would be expected of a human, even within she knew her blood was cleaner, stronger than ever before. Her muscles had retained their alterations, the artificial parts finally having become memory as opposed to reality.

Walking, whole again, she emerged finally to cross the small bit of land that they had cultivated to the ease, burdened no longer in body. The soul would rage, the mind sharpened, and her ambitions never higher.

Striding towards the view of those waiting for her. So much work to be done.

Still she delayed a moment longer. A pause as she noted something on her physical wrist comm. An encrypted message, the sender detached. Just a few words she drank in as air to live by.

“My Warrior”


// Thanks to everyone still enjoying these! I’ll likely start a new thread in time given how much has already been written here. I tried this as a project to contribute to about once per week and it’s not half bad maybe.
Be well and see you in game! //

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Final Theme for this closure!

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