Saek'thira'tharloo - vengeance and freedom

[SabbyKat]

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

Basic information

Full name: Saek’thira’tharloo
Core name Kthira
Actual character name in the NWN vault: Kthira
Species: Chiss
Gender: female
Planet of Origin: Csilla
Year of birth: 3984 BBY
Force sensitivity: strong

Background information
Past affiliations: Jedi Order, Revanchists, Sith Order
Criminal records: unknown
Bounty: none
Recent professional affiliations: diverse freelance work for several parties, including Czerka corporation, Hoersch-Kessel Driveyards and several private contractors.

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Full-crimson eyes fluttered blearily open as the transport shuttle lurched heavily with the sudden drag of low-orbit planetary atmo. Kthira was sitting (and sleeping) on the rearmost row of seats for one simple reason: they were nearly always empty. Few passengers chose to sit on those and be treated to the deafening roar of engines so common of passenger shuttles when they broke into atmo. The shuttle was almost empty, but she chose the privacy of being isolated in the back over the comfort of being with the other passengers further ahead.

"Commencing landing approach at Veles colony starport" Announced the pilot in the typical, morose drone of a Czerka employee whose soul had been sucked out by the megacorp.

Dark-blue lips pursed for a moment as her senses quickly recovered to full wakefulness. First things first: a brief check of her belongings under the red coat she wore. It was all there - blasters, credit chips, datapad, and everything else. Pursed lips slid into a pleased smile - she wouldn’t have to ‘take care’ of some would-be pickpocket for this flight. It was a good change of pace.

Activating her wristpad, she tapped at it a few times, checked the sync with the shuttle’s information: twenty standard minutes to touchdown. That gave her enough time for-

“Hm. A bit early, aren’t you?” She whispered quiely to herself as her wristpad chimed with an incoming call, and the face of a male Bith with an ugly scar across his face appeared on the small viewscreen. For a moment, she was thankful for having spend extra creds on some of her ear - her comlink’s earpiece shut away the roaring engine noises entirely.

“Talk.” Was her greeting as the earpiece chimed to announce an established connection.

“M-Miss Kthira.” Stammered the Bith on the other end. “I h-hope to find you-”

"Cut the pleasantries, Tedo. If you called me, you have something new to give.

“Y-yes. Yes we do. We r-ran some d-data with a f-few… ah, contacts we h-have. They co-confirmed it: your target’s… b-been sighted on the planet Viscara in the past… standard month.” The Bith’s tone suggested he was cringing by the time he finished.

“Standard month? Standard month? I expected better, Tedo.”

“I-I apologize, Miss Kthira. We haven’t-”

“Enough. What exactly did your contacts catch?”

“Jhedok Viaas’ ship was recorded luh-landing on the planet. N-no outbound flight was r-recorded or d-detected.”

That was much better. Looking forward at the row of seats and passengers without truly seeing them, Kthira’s crimson eyes narrowed into slights. A nexu’s grin spread her lips as she could almost feel the taste of anticipation. A standard month after a detected landing without an outbound flight wasn’t usually much - one could’ve left the planet under the scanners. Her target, however, wasn’t a smuggler, wasn’t an operative. Jhedok wasn’t subtle, nor usually cared to cover his tracks. She was supposedly dead, after all, wasn’t she?

“You could’ve led the conversation with that, Tedo. Take this as a good lesson: just get straight to the point if you have something decent to give, and nobody will have to hear you cringing.” Said she, in a… pleasantly conversational tone.

She heard him cringe again. “Y-yes, M-Miss Kthira. Ah. I-is our ah… business c-concluded?”

“For now. I’m transfering half the payment now.” She spoke idly, tapping at her wristpad again.

“Miss Kthira! I-I was ho-hoping for full-”

Her voice cut him off, narrowing to a razor’s edge. “Do you seriously want to try changing our deal last-minute, Tedo? Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’ll have quite a lot of free time on my hands after Jhedok’s dead, you know.”

“N-n-n-nuh-no! N-no. I s-simply thought-”

“Half now. Half when I find him. We haven’t worked long enough for me to trust you with full payment.” She explained, once again, in a tone remarkably patient. In her mind, she sighed - Tedo was useless when he panicked, which was remarkably often in her presence.

“Y-y-yes, M-miss Kthira.”

“You should hear from me soon.” And she ended the call, cutting off the sounds of the Bith’s parting reply. Kthira sank back in her seat, eyes turned to the ceiling, pearly teeth biting dark blue lips.

Twenty or so minutes later, she was taking her first steps down the shuttle’s loading ramp. Lips curled into an ear-to-ear grin, teeth gritting tightly in a brief and light rush of adrenaline. Usually, the air of a spaceport smelled and tasted acrid and metallic. But now, not even that could wash away the taste of blood she could already feel on her tongue. Anticipation was a delicious dish.

[SabbyKat]

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 were 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 at the mental sight.

In a hateful 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.

[SabbyKat]

1. Where is your character from?

Csilla, where she lived a childhood of diligence and high expectations, until she was exiled when her Force sensitivity manifested.

2. How would you physically describe your character?

Tall and athletic. 6'0. Her body is reminiscent of a predatory feline, athletic, toned; quick, trim muscles coiled like a nexu ready to pounce on prey with explosive speed. She trains diligently for it. All of it deceptively framed by graceful and tempting curves. However, it can't be said that she's physically strong. Hers is a body built for quick, deadly, explosive movements, for grace and deception, not sheer brute force.

3. Does your character have recurring mannerisms?

The snark. The endless, 24/7, infinite snark and unending sarcasm. She can't help it!

4. What is your character’s main motivation?

There are two:

1) Revenge: she will stop at nothing to find and kill the target of her vengeance.

2) Freedom: she's been broken, she nearly died, she's been drained of the all the strength in her self and power in the Force she once had. She seeks to rebuild herself from the dirt and from nothing, and find the freedom she once had in her own self and her own power.

5. What is your character’s greatest strength? Greatest weakness?

Will to power: this is what drives her. The idea that by understanding herself and her own passions, she can make sense of the world around her. That she can overcome anything with her own force of will, with sheer will to live, sheer will to grow ever stronger. That anything can be achieved by growing one's inner strength and faith in one's own self and own inner reality above all else.

Absolutism: naturally, this worldview makes her inflexible - sometimes arrogant and proud at times, at others, merciless and lacking empathy. Disinclined to help those whom she believes must win their own struggles alone, not have them cheapened by outside help. This is a weakness in that she may very well be wrong in her opinions, in that she often fails to take things on a case-by-case basis, fails to learn to rely on others.

6. What are your character’s most and least favorite things?

Most favorite: when she was on Ryloth, years ago, she tasted a particular dish that was somehow very reminiscent of one of the few things she remembers of her childhood. Unfortunately, she still hasn't been able to remember what dish it was.

Least favorite: the food in Republic military mess halls. One of the things about the Wars that she won't miss. Yuck.

(Yes, the two things have to do with food. She hungry!)

7. What about your character’s psychology?

"It is weakness to rely on strength not your own" is one of the many maxims that drive her. Yris Narod, her deceased Master in the Jedi Order (when she was still of it) had, in her time, been apprentice to the Jedi Master and historian Kreia. As such, many of her controversial opinions mixed with Yris' own views of the Galaxy and both influenced Kthira. All are too complex to summarize here.

Another axiom in her mind - and it is one entirely of her own making - is the idea that life was meant to be lived. After the Wars, after the things that happened to her post-War, after nearly dying so senselessly in a dispute for power among the nascent post-war Sith, she has come to the conclusion that life was meant to be lived. To the full. Every experience, every emotion, every pain, every love. It was not meant to be wasted away in servitude to others or to an unreachable ideal - light or dark - set by others and not by herself.

8. What is your character’s single greatest fear?

There are two which compete for top spot among her fears: to be powerless and to be alone.

The first one, powerlessness: naturally, having once suffered it, she fears being once again cast down, stripped of her power, defeated, broken. It is something she survived. It's something she's rising and rebuilding herself from. It doesn't mean she is in the least eager to experience it again. It left scars, and those scars make her terrified of again feeling powerless.

The second one: she was an exile, she was a slave, she lost a loved one in the War and was left again alone after that. Despite the fact that she has learned to *thrive* in her own, in herself, alone, that doesn't mean she doesn't crave companionship. She fears being entirely alone for good. It is natural to crave connection, in one form or another, for almost all Beings. She's no exception. Naturally, this sometimes conflicts with her drive focused on her inner self and inner strength, this conflict causes her to feel needlessly ashamed of herself, at times.

Not to be fooled by the fact that she's socially an extrovert and a butterfly of sorts - one can be just as lone at a party on Nar Shadaa as in the depths of Viscara's Wildwoods.

9. What are your character’s highest ambitions, greatest love?

This might change in the future. In her current state - psychologically most of all - her highest ambition is her quest for vengeance and rebuilding herself. Her greatest love... it could be said that it'd be her own self, but recent experience is changing her in this regard.

10. What is your character’s opinion of where they are from?

Negative, dismissive. There's little reason for her to care for a place she only knew as a young child and which senselessly (in her mind) exiled her for being in touch with the Force.

11. Does your character have any prejudices?

She merely tolerates Mandalorians. Having fought against then in the Mandalorian Wars, joining them after the near-genocide of the Cathar, she has little reason to think well of them besides simply maintaining social courtesy. Of course, that wouldn't stop her from pretending to be a little more friendly if it serves her own ends.

12. Where do your character’s loyalties lie?

With herself, first and foremost, extending to those she may come to love and regard as friends. The rest of the Galaxy be damned.

13. Is your character in love. Are they married or betrothed?

Yes, but the two of them have to keep it a secret for everyone outside, for now.

14. What about your character’s family?

It can't be rightly said she has one. Her family is but a vague memory from her chidlhood before her exile from the Ascendancy. If anything, the Jedi Order

15. How would your character’s parents describe them?

Willful and headstrong. Not someone who easily makes friends, and had problems valuing them as a child.

16. Is your character from high society or the dregs of the underworld? Is he a gentleman or a scoundrel?

Hard to define. In the Ascendancy, her family would've been equivalent to what we understand as middle-class. After that, she was exiled, and then enslaved. Subsequently, she was rescued and inducted into the Jedi Order, only fall from it in the Wars and experience that reality, too. One can say that luxury, for example, is something that she only came to experience and develop a sinfully too-eager taste for recently in her life.

17. Is your character religious?

No more religious than a Jedi or Sith is about the Force.

18. Is your character a member of a guild, club, or secret society?

No(t yet?).

19. What does your character think of the force?

There is no single answer that could fit into the question. She views the Force in a paradoxical way. The very idea that it might control the destinies and futures of Beings makes her skin crawl. She dislikes it. She fears it, in that regard, and it sends chills down her spine to consider the notion. At the same time, she considers the Force to be the highest realm of development in a Being's life. Not simply because of what one can accomplish through the Force or what powers one can wield, but how one's perception of the Galaxy broadens infinitely through the Force.

Again, paradoxically, she fears reliance on it. As was taught by her Master, she fears being defined solely by her connection to the Force. To rely on it too much, to the detriment of all else about her.

20. If you could, what advice would you give your character?

Stop. Breathe. Breathe in deep. Look at what you already have built. Breathe again. Look at the world around you. One more breath. and those you have around you.