Saek'thira'tharloo - Hunting in the Dark

[EDIT: changed her full name a bit, because I’d botched it lore-wise.]

(Moving this post here, because I realized I began posting this in the wrong part of the forum!)

Getting used to Viscara was a slow process. It wasn’t anything specific that made it hard to feel acquainted with that particular ball of rock floating in the void. Tiny little things about it always felt a little… off to Kthira’s senses. The smells were sometimes just a bit too pungent. The colors at times a touch too dull or too bright. Perhaps it had to do with the Force itself? Regardless, it was a puzzle not to be solved in the near future.

One thing, however, she could appreciate with a sigh: the sunset. The view from the clearing just past Veles’ gates always seemed to be a good one. As she passed by the brazier (and the varying crowd that always surrounded it), the flames caught the setting sun’s light in a way that made her feel like she just had to stop. To stop and admire the horizon.

It wouldn’t be the first time she’d stopped to see the sight of the brazier and the sunset. Perhaps it just had that inherent je ne sais quois about it.

Or perhaps her feelings and her passions were just flying that high, that day.

Kthira looked away from the sunset, closed her eyes to a recent memory, and bit her lips. She couldn’t recall any time before that a kiss had felt so good. Warm. Thrilling. Lingered on her for so long. A grin came to her lips, and then a giggle. ‘This is going to get me into trouble, isn’t it?’ She mused to herself, still feeling the warmth and the taste on her lips, before starting back again towards the colony’s gates, dirt crunching underfoot.

Ah, yes. Another bothersome thing about the planet came as soon as she slipped into the city: the air in the colony. It never smelled… right. Maybe it was the desperation of the refugees that she could feel through the Force - passions that she could subtly detect and subtly resented not by their nature but by the situation they hinted to. There was more. Perhaps it was just the presence of Czerka corp. She’d had worked here and there for them in the past - credits are credits - that didn’t mean she didn’t particularly enjoy working against them.

She held her lips curled from the moment she stepped past Veles’ gates, until she got to her apartment building in the colony’s southwest. With a cursory glance of full-crimson eyes over her shoulder (old habits died hard), the dark-blue woman swiftly punched in her new apartment’s entry code and rode the short turbolift ride to her floor.

Stepping into her apartment held the familiar and long-missed sense of safe haven. It also helped that she splurged on a lavishly furnished one. Damn the teachings she’d left in her past - luxury is luxury! With a satisfied grin as she looked around her apartment, noting that she’d left the floor-to-ceiling viewscreen turned on and a half-finished meal on the table by the sofa in front.

“Hm. Hmmm… later.” She said, dismissing the to-be-done cleaning for some future version of her self. The floaty giddiness bubbling inside her was far more important. Sighing again, she left her red coat and belt holsters by the plasteel hanger near the door, and the rest of her belongings in a messy trail across the living room as she made her way to the pool and bath room on the far end of the apartment.

First things first! A bath, then dinner. She’d take an hour or two afterwards to review her findings so far. She had rented a probe droid or two to roam Viscara’s surface in search for signals of Jhedok’s ship. The little rat had somehow gotten good at covering his tracks - she’d expected to find something by now…

… still, there wasn’t much to be done about it. The rising hate inside her and the taste of blood on her tongue both had to be quelled for now. She’d have her moment, she would. With the giddiness of her day somewhat stained by the smear of vengeace yet unslaked, she turned to the bedroom, leaving her datapad next to her dirty dinner dishes.

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“Master! We’re surrounded!” It was her own voice - younger by a few years - screaming. Short, but steep canyon walls surrounded them on both sides. Behind them, republic soldiers numbered just shy of a hundred - not even a third of them were fit for battle, all were wounded from the Wars in some way. To their sides, atop the canyon walls, the roar of jetpacks and flashes of Mandalorian armor coming down upon them.

Right beside her: a young Zabrak male, with a blue lightsaber activating in his hand. In front of her, an imposing Mirialan female in robes and armor, a green lightsaber in each hand. The sight of her was the only thing that held back the fear roiling in her heart. She looked down at her own blue hands and the long lightsaber they held. She activated it, two green blades, one on each side, sparked to life.

To their credit, the few republic soldiers that could hold a blaster were the first ones to fire before the Mandalorians ever did.

Chaos ensued. Scenes. Memory jagged and torn. Screams. Hails of blaster fire. Orders shouted. The telltale sounds of slice after slice after slice of a lightsaber cutting through armor. It was a dream, of course. She saw the battle - rather, the ambush - at the same time with her own two eyes, yet also outside of herself, as if watching from above.

There was no order to the events in her memory. All happened at the same time. Things she knew had happened at the beginning, happened at the end. Other things were mirrored. Others seemed to happen to someone else entirely.

The one memory that didn’t change: she was rushing ahead - the Zabrak male nowhere to be seen - down the canyon path with the surviving republic wounded right in front of her. She’d been told not to hesitate, not to turn back. They only had to round a corner to safely leave the canyon, and back to the safe cover of Republic fighters overhead. But she did hesitate. She did turn back. And the sight burned itself into her memory.

The Mirialan in armored robes, surrounded by dead mandalorians. But she was wounded. Too wounded to go on, her robes scorched by blasters. More mandalorians were coming, this time from the canyon path just behind her master. She saw the mirialan shut her sabers and raise both hands to the top of the canyon walls. The mandalorians opened fired at her, but no blaster shot connected. The canyon walls began to shake, then crumble, until they collapsed inwards with a mountain of rubble falling over everyone underneath. In an instant, the mirialan and the mandalorians were gone.

The sound of the falling rocks did not drown out her screams.

She woke up in a panic, still hearing her screams. She was screaming. Cold sweat dotted her forehead. Just before she fully woke, that face came to her mind again: the Zabrak, that same male Zabrak. Grinning, eyes red with hate.

A hate that was nothing compared to the one that welled inside her.

In a raging rush, she launched herself out of her bed and rushed outside her room. Despite having just awoken, she felt the need to move, to run, to fight, to hurt, to inflict pain, to -…

She stopped when she got to the window. It was night, of course. A clear sky. A clear moon shining through with the stars beside it. The sight stilled her enough to stop her movement. To make her stop, and… simply gaze outside, and let her thoughts fly.

He would pay. Oh, he would pay.

Crimson eyes finally focused on what was actually past her window. Veles, a few feet below. Empty streets. Straight ahead, past the colony’s walls, the clearing. She could see the light of the brazier still lit. It brought a smirk to her lips.

And then… something drew her eyes just a little further past it. Something… subtle. She realized, after a moment, that she was looking precisely at where she new the entrance of the Crystal Cave to be. Her own realization was the only warning she got.

A spike of pain in her skull. Ache. Like a knife pushing through. She immediately fell to her knees, gripping both sides of her head. Images flashed in her mind. She saw them again: the crystals growing in her boots, in her legs, swirling around her thighs. Before her eyes flashed visions of more crystals. Walls of them, surrounding. An endless maze. Countless legs skittering everywhere - floor, walls and ceiling. Over her. All over her skin.

“You will be mine.” A voice echoed in her head.

And just like that, it ended.

And once again, she felt the cold sweat on her forehead. Yet this time, the sights outside her window were no comfort.

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There was one place in Viscara - so far - that was beginning to grow on her: the Wildwoods.

They felt familiar in more ways than she could describe. They were alive. Alive in that primal sense that seemed to tug at her senses in ways she could not resist. Savage, yet serene. Dangerous, yet beautiful. Kinrath and wild beasts stalked the underbrush, outlaws and renegade mandalorians searched for victims. All amidst undeniable beauty, rough and primal, and the feeling of life in its most raw form thrumming around her. She knelt, and listened to it.

That was something she’d learned to do again. To sit, and listen. To listen to the world around her. Feel the beating of the forest’s heart as if deep below her. Hear its voice in every rustling leaf. Feel its hungry breath brushing against the nape of her neck. Sense the stirring of tiniest bits of life scurrying around its soil. It killed and gave life. But more - it tugged at that sense of freedom inside her she cherished so much.

Kthira needed it that day. She felt she was nearly there. Nearly at the threshold of another breakthrough. Her perception of the Force, her connection to it, felt thicker. Stronger. It pulsed with the birthpangs of a new insight. The call of new mysteries in the dark. A new step forward. A strengthening. Stars, it felt so familiar - she longed to feel it more again as she once did.

And so, she sat there amid a heavy tangle of bushes surrounding her, trusting that she would not be sensed nor found. In her mind: she was trusting her own perception and senses moreso than the Force and fate.

Kneeling and sitting on her ankles, hands on her thighs, the Chiss focused her attention on the tiniest sounds around her. Thoughts, at first, were ignored. She listened to the closest sounds of a bird singing in the canopy above. From it, she moved to sounds evermore subtle and more distant. The whispering of the wind against the trees. Then, the growling of an animal in the distance. Then, the scurrying of a tiny arachnid’s legs on the dried leaves piled beside her.

It was only when she felt that not the tiniest sound around her went unnoticed. When her senses were broadened to the full, that she turned them inwards, and listened to her thoughts. To the currents of her emotions. To the beating of her heart. To the echoes of the Force flowing into her. To the river of her feelings deep within.

The outside world faded completely in an instant.

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“Do you feel it? Anger in your every connection to the Force? Hatred in your every thought? Think of the Mandalorians who killed your former master. I know it hurts - I know your loss deeply, apprentice -” And - surprisingly - the face of a Nagai male in her memory looked down upon her with genuine sadness. Eyes - red and tainted by the dark side - glimmered quietly in a moment of sympathy genuinely felt. That moment passed, and turned into a gaze of cold, imposing will, his lips curled.

“Feel that agony, that fury. And foster it into purpose. Strike!” The Nagai growled in command an instant before a red blade flashed from his lightsaber. He brought it bearing down upon her. In her memory, she saw her blue hands lighting her saber to intercept. The blade was also crimson.


Another memory. Such a familiar one. Such a hated one.

A cave. A cold, dark cave. Darker than it had a right to be. It seethed in the dark side, with energies she still wasn’t strong enough to deal with. Behind her, a steep chasm leading seemingly into endless darkness. In front of her, creatures. Dead creatures. Creatures long-since tainted and twisted by the dark force energies of that world. She felt pain in every limb. Her body was hurt with dozens of scratches and bites. They had been too many. Strength twisted and magnified by the dark side of the Force. All had been hungry to consume her.

She was facing the entrance to the cave. There, she saw a single red lightsaber blade spark to life.

“Hah.” Kthira spat at the ground, growling. “Too weak to face me head-on, Jhedok? Had to rely on these beasts? I always knew you were weak. Too afraid to face me by yourself. If this is how you want to try winning our master’s challenge. Come on, then!”

They rushed at each other, roaring.


Darkness. More darkness.

Pain. Weakness.

The light was so dim. Her senses were so far away. Her thoughts were buried under a mountain too immense to comprehend. She couldn’t move.

Distantly, she was aware that her eyes had opened. She saw nothing. It felt as if it took her days to simply turn her gaze upwards. Up there, she saw light. No, not light. Just a lighter shade of dark - the outline of a plateau far above. She had fallen from it. Fallen so, so far.

How long ago? She knew not.

All she knew, was that she was alive. Somehow, she still breathed. Slow, imperceptible breaths that barely stirred the air of that hole she was in.

She did not have the strength to even think. Only a vague awareness of her state made itself clear: alive, broken, diminished, drained.

Kthira’s eyes felt heavy again, and she did not have the strength to keep them from closing. No. She couldn’t fight it. She shouldn’t. She only had to hold on to that newfound purpose, that need to stay alive. That purpose.

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Suddenly, her thoughts came rushing back to the present. And not even the whirlwind roaring inside her could distract her from a feeling. A sense that, something had changed. That…

… there. Finally. Finally. She felt it click. She felt the familiar brush of the currents of the Force around her a little more clearly. The unseen mist - like an all-encompassing cloud - tickling more clearly against her skin. The impalpable breeze blowing a little more strongly through the very core of her being, even though the leaves of the thick canopy above her stood absolutely still.

It was the tiniest, subtlest thing, but it was there. Just a little more of it. An indelible sense that she could now feel it all the tiniest bit more clearly. Finally, another breakthrough. Finally, another step closer to becoming who she’d once been. No, perhaps she was simply building herself back again as something entirely new.

Kthira’s lips widened in an unconscious grin - of genuine satisfation yet also of churning, roiling anticipation. Slowly, she opened her eyes. A soft breeze blew by - a “real” one - and she heard the crunch of boots on leaves. Then, she heard thoughts.

‘Blast that damn rodian. If he gets another credit from me, I’ll head back to camp and break his damned dejarik board.’

She rose a brow and looked to her right - one of the outlaws, just a few feet away past the thick underbrush she’d been meditating in. She detested them. Crude, brutal, pointlessly cruel, aimlessly destructive, a rude parody of the struggle to eat-or-be-eaten embodied in a life lived without reason or a greater sense of purpose. He couldn’t have seen her, yet, past the thick foliage. Ah, but she sensed him. It was time to remember.

Closing her eyes again, she could almost see him past the leaves. An outline. A shadow, but clear enough to her senses. One arm outstretched towards him. Her hand opened. Her fingers stretched, then slowly curled in again. She turned her gaze inward… and let loose the seething inside her: sheer Will limned by anger held in control.

The outlaw froze in his tracks. “Hrrm.” She saw him twitch. Saw him look to one side and another, then grunt in pain as his shoulders slumped under a growing weight. “Wha’… in the blazes?!”

Ah. There it was. Panic. Of course he couldn’t understand what was going on. She did. She could taste his panic. Her lips opened into a smile, and she closed her hand a little more.

“Argh! H-help me!” The outlaw began crying out, as his arms locked to his sides, his wrists twitched, his legs began to bend and tremble. His core sank inwards. His shoulders bent further down and he shook his head left and right. Blaster shots fired at the ground as his finger reflexively squeezed the trigger.

Yes. There. She could feel it. Feel the Force crushing around him. Feel her own Will imposing itself - as she’d learned to do in what felt like a lifetime ago. It was exhilarating. The feeling of a strength once-known slowly returning by the tiniest increment, and the feeling of crushing the outlaw with all the justice she felt he must clearly deserve.

Yet, there came frustration as her strength, her Will, suddenly stalled. ‘N-no! I… I can do more!’ She protested against herself, but no. She couldn’t. The power she felt was an inkling, and nothing more. Still, there it was. Try as she might, she could not press down any further upon the beleaguered and frightened bandit. Could not bring her might in the Force any further to bear. She knew it could be done, she simply no longer had nearly enough the strength to do so.

Frustration gave way to action. Still pressing the Force down upon the outlaw, she drew her electric foil. Hissing out a cry, she burst from the underbrush, the Force giving her heightened speed as she dashed at the bandit who was still a few feet away.

The sudden sight of a foe and the adrenaline of kill-or-be-killed gave him strength to fight against whatever was bearing down upon him, even if he still felt the oppresive weight pressing down from all sides. He lifted his blaster carbine, lined at the blue-skinned woman dashing towards him and let loose.

As the blaster shots came, she veered minutely to one side. Twisted and weaved to the other. The Force gave her insight to avoid the oncoming fire. She had recovered that at least. She was close… just a few more steps.

“Argh!” Pain sparked as a blaster shot grazed across her upper arm. Her prescient insight was still too dull to be perfect.

Another spark ran through as she failed to dodge another blaster shot that bit at the edge of her hip. Pain turned to a drive to end this. She launched herself past the last two steps she needed to close in for the kill. All she saw was a spark of panic in the bandit’s widening eyes a second before her electric foil plunged into him.

Everything stilled after his body thudded on the ground.

The rush and exhilaration of it slowly faded from her senses, as it always did. Thrilling as it was, as combat was, it always quickly subsided into a dull thrumming at the edge of her senses - not too different from the languid feeling that comes after a lovely meal or a lover’s embrace. It only felt more… tainted, in a familiar way she knew was of the dark side.

As her body also cooled down, so came, too, the sparkling, stinging ache of where the blaster shots had scarred her body. “Hrrm.” She felt it, let it run through her, examined that brief pain to its full extent, before shaking her head and her attention away from it - those wounds would heal soon enough.

Her breathing stilled again, and she quietly looked down at the dead outlaw - a human. Narrowing, Kthira’s crimson eyes looked over the wounds she’d inflicted. Not the single one with her foil, but the bruises and reddened skin over the man’s body. She’d managed it - she’d used the Force to crush him. It wasn’t the same, it was… still so weak. But ah, it was a victory, tiny as it was! Such a victory.

“I will rebuild.” She murmured quietly to herself, staring at the dead bandit. “I will climb. I will remake myself again, no matter how long it takes.”

As she spoke, her memories mixed with her senses. For the slightest moment, her vision blurred, then sharpened. It was no longer a human dead at her feet, it was a Zabrak. A very familiar one. Jhedok.

“And soon I will find you.”

The sense of victory faded, tainted by a dull, cold anger. She turned, and left her foe where she’d felled him. There was still so much more to be done.

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