Few places in the galaxy gave Teon the creeps, but Malachor was one of them. Although he was by no means a scholar of the Jedi and Sith, he had made the rounds in enough of their circles to have heard stories of the ancient Sith homeworld. Tales of a battle of titanic proportion waged between the Jedi and Sith passed the lips of Jedi as whispers, lessons from the past of the cost of war. Whatever had happened that day left both sides of the unending struggle between the Dark and Light petrified remnants of the distant past, and there they remained to this very day.
Faint traces of the Force lingered within the living statues, pulsing faintly as Teon lead his team across the eerily quiet landscape. The Force was everywhere and yet nowhere. It was as if it was stuck in some kind of limbo, imprinted into the very ground they walked upon yet so distant. The other five AEF soldiers comprising his squad likely thought his cautious amble through toward the looming edifice had something to do with the Force. They knew he was Force sensitive, after all, but he had never bothered to explain to them the intricate details of how his Force sight worked. If they did, they all likely would have felt a lot more nervous than the occasional tremor of unease he felt rumble out from their minds.
“Stay frosty, team,” he reminded them, keeping his hands firmly on his Relby. “The boys back home reported an uptick in activity at this temple. And any activity in the Sith temples of Malachor are a cause for concern. Expect hostilities.”
If his suspicions were correct, this wouldn’t be the first time any of them encountered Dark-siders, even Sith–and it wouldn’t be the last. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Teon extended his senses outward in every direction, extending the scope of the translucent landscape in his mind’s eye.
<@188018248241905664>
Malachor, a place so vile that it made her homeworld feel like a distant paradise. So it did have a breathable atmosphere if you enjoyed choking on ash and having the Force crush your lungs.
Ever since Alaisy had landed here she had been beset by a swathe of different moods and emotions. Her tail was hiding between her legs, lowered and apathetic.
Atrocities committed by the Jedi, that she was certain of. The aftermath still clung to this place like tar, the ash being the feathers. It squeezed the air out of her. The rubber nosecup of her mask sucked onto her face as she wheezed, trying to draw on pressurized oxygen. Almost like the malicious spirits here twisted the air hose into a knot.
Grand structures of the Sith in their prime stood proud still, glorious, and nostalgic. The life drained out of them by Jedi paranoia and arrogance. How Tir'eivra wished she could have seen this place in all of its splendor. Then her mood changed. Her brows pulled together as memories of her own blasted her with emotions.
This was the spot. Her clawed gloves picked out a small container from her backpack. An arm stretched out from one of the stone-turned statues. Her hand took their hand and crushed their fingers to dust. Whatever living energy was left in these standing corpses of Jedi and Sith was corrupted beyond the means of the Light and the Dark. Perhaps with her Nightsister rituals, she could find out. Magick and ichor had their effect on everything. Whether it was useful here remained to be seen.
With a loud hiss, she inhaled. Ash floated down on her shining suit and slowly dripped off, carried away by her alchemical oils. She spread her arms out and peered up, watching the flakes fall on her domed visor.
This was her first real fight. Where she had been challenged by another Sith. How she had risen since then. A healthy rivalry. One that would see him come back for more.
Karran Val'teo
In a way, it was friendship, the most pure kind. The only type she knew. The one wrought in battle, testing each other’s mettle. Masochistically she knew he had hold over him the moment he grasped her by the neck with the Force. Alaisy chuckled at the thought, she could still feel it.
See his golden eyes. How he came begging for help, for her rituals. One day he would return for more. The life of a warrior would not work within family life. She scoffed thinking about him settling down. Her blessing to him would become a curse.
The temple garden was decorated with so many helpless, petrified souls. It was like picking single petals from dead flowers. Sometimes she merely enjoyed herself clawing their screaming faces off.
Slitting their necks. Watching their heads tumble down. Only for them to be crushed by her boot. Musings of a little, raven-haired girl. Imagining countless deaths, creative thinking she had called it once.
Out of her nightmares, Malachor was a frequent visitor. A recurring theme had been stone hands jutting out of walls. Grabbing onto her and ripping her apart. Standing here felt similar. As if phantom pains stung her at random intervals. Imprints of fingertips sometimes appeared on her second skin. She wrapped her arms around herself.
Her millipede droid, Creepy kept guard, slithering around the staircases and checking the nooks and crannies. Her X-70b Shimmer was hidden, cloaked, and guarded by her Zyggerian friend Zag.
“Come in Alaisy, there is movement on the surface. I bet you’re playing with those terrible statues more than actually investigating. Stop it and come back, please? I hate it here.” A silvery voice full of angst rang through Alaisy’s helmet, coming from the cockpit of her ship.
<@1056685516441006091>
As the team crept ever closer to the Sith temple, Teon felt the radiant darkness of a living being up ahead. Twisting and writhing amidst the oppressive aura of the broken planet, it seemed to be buffeted and sustained by it in equal measure.
“Colonel Sul, scanners are detecting something up ahead. One organic and one droid,” noted one of the soldiers.
“Tracking, ” he replied, taking particular note of the presence of a droid. That made things a bit more complicated for him, but he trusted his team to cover him well as they always had. “Organic is a Force user. And a dangerous one. Weapons ready.”
Teon heard the telltale buzz of half a dozen blasters being set to lethal touched his ears. It was a sound lying below the threshold of what most species could hear, but he’d come to enjoy it whenever on assignment. It was a sign that battle was about to commence and for Teon, that’s when he felt most at home. It was in the thick of a firefight that the Galaxy made the most sense.
“Line of sight established, sir.”
“What is that?” another AEF soldier chimed in, “Are we sure it’s an organic?”
Whoever his men were seeing was, Teon could tell they were large, yet their physique didn’t fit the profile of any other species he’d encountered. And there was something else with them … not quite alive but not inanimate, either.
Teon lifted a hand to signal for the group to slow their approach, crouching low so they could continue forward. One remained on his six while the remaining four split into groups of two and fanned out in an attempt to flank the figure and their droid from both sides.
<@188018248241905664>
Alaisy’s voice was strained as if she was withholding a cough. Inhaling felt like lifting a boulder with her lungs. “Your concern is noted, keep Shimmer on standby.” A vibronail tapped the side of her facemask.
Her droid scurried across the surface, finding a nice crack in the temple’s wall to fit between.
Her tail swished from side to side, until it stood up straight. Tir'eivra’s whole body flowed into movement. Utter stillness turned into long strides up the ancient stairway.
Each step of her heavy platforms pounced the natural stone. The distance she covered between each click and clack was massive. Perhaps it helped her that the forgotten Sith had used large boulders to construct the staircases. It did not take her long to reach a good vantage point. Her frame hugged an intact pillar, feeling out the cold sandstone. It was comforting, aided by the fact that no hands held her in place like in her dreams. The only thing slightly in the way were her oxygen tanks.
She placed a boot against the column, resting her weight on one leg. Her arms crossed as she peered down at one group of intruders.
“Cease!” The tall woman shouted down from the temple, voice modulated and air hissing from her mask. Her war-plume, high ponytail spread out as she turned her head towards them.
The sound of someone’s voice echoing from above them caused Teon and his strike team to halt in their tracks. Most trained their blaster rifles on the Sith, while at least one of them kept their sights trained on where the droid was skittering.
Teon took a half step forward while training his senses on her, which Alaisy would likely feel as a tingle on the back of her neck–the kind one often invoked by being watched. Although she wasn’t immediately hostile, he knew better than to assume that their interaction would remain that way. His grip on his weapon remained true.
“Whatever reason you have for coming here today, I suggest you abandon it and go on your way.”
His voice was calm, and slightly distorted by the rebreather he wore over his mouth.
The nerve!
A chill ran over her spine, culminating in the tip of her tail with a twitch. He was the one who didn’t belong. There was no aura about him that gave her any comfort. Alaisy was certain that they were always Jedi when she had broken any statues. Would they be so kind? To respect the unliving on their own homeworld?
A challenger?
“I am already going about my way, you have no right to be here. I do!” She lowered herself down to her knees. With her claws she leaned forward, peering down, tail up. The predator’s stance gave her a good chance to look at him. A visor and a breath mask were not much to go by.
“And lackeys too? Pathetic. What are you here for?”
As far as Teon saw it, he had the right to be wherever his mission required him to go. He had no idea why his employers within the Brotherhood possessed such a vested interest in keeping would-be explorers to the ancient Sith world away, but he suspected they wished to hoard the secrets of the Dark Side locked away within the temple’s walls. Knowing the answer wouldn’t help him get paid any faster.
“That’s funny. I didn’t see a sign explaining who was and wasn’t allowed on this gods forsaken rock,” he retorted, “I’m exactly where I should be.”
He trained his Relby V-10 on the woman’s crouching form, making note of the feelings of aggression that radiated from her like heat from a candle flame.
“Keep it moving and this won’t have to get ugly, lady.”
Alaisy scoffed as she saw the weapon pointed at her. She snaked back up to her full height and placed the back of her palm on her visor. “You offend me, and all those who perished here so long ago.” Tir'eivra’s voice was more than a little dramatic as she stepped away from the line of sight, her slender body blocked by the column.
“I am not going anywhere!” A distant chuckle was heard that developed further into a darker laughter.
“Oh? I offended you?” he asked, a hint of incredulity present in his tone. “Well, here, let me make it up to you by escorting you back to your ship.”
He needn’t reposition himself to “see” her when she stepped behind the pillar, but he did take a step forward.
“You’re not trying to start a game of cat and mouse, are you? We could both be on our merry way by now, you know.”
“A kind offer, but I am not done here yet.” She saw a patch of moss growing between the cement and began scratching at it with her claw.
Curious, so there is life, even here.
He should’ve known it was going to be more difficult to convince her than that. As much as he would have preferred to settle this with a well placed booster blaster shot, he reminded himself of the value of diplomacy. It was a skill that would prove especially valuable in this situation; even though he possessed superior numbers, they’d be facing an enemy whose capabilities were–a Dark Sider user with the home field advantage. It was unwise.
“And what exactly are you doing here, anyway?” he asked, slowly moving up the path leading to the outcropping upon which she stood. His subordinates followed.
“Not exactly a lot to this world.”
Her voice became more pronounced with a hint of enthusiasm. “Let me show you something.” She held the moss in her hand as it almost turned to powder. “Right, do not shoot.” Alaisy raised her hand and with her other hand, she tapped the crimson crystal under her neck corset.
“There is life in this barren wasteland, in places of shadow and out of the ash.” The powdered moss caught fire in her palm. It flickered, and it was emerald in color. The gem atop her chest ebbed into obsidian until it flickered into the same emerald green.
“Not the atmosphere, but the Force that brought it to life.” Tir'eivra clasped her hand and her crystal returned to its original hue. “So many mysteries here, it is unique. Who knows what else is hidden away?”
She wanted to show him something? It was an unusual request given the initial hostility of their meeting, and Teon likely would have disregarded the request had he not felt the genuine excitement the woman felt at whatever it was she’d discovered.
“Well, you won’t be able to show me,” he said while stepping out into the own. It was in that moment that his visor became visible, as were the rest of his features.
He didn’t lower his rifle fully, but he did point the barrel away from her.
“I can feel it.” He sounded genuinely surprised at the revelation.
“And I can feel that whatever this is reacted to it.”
Teon lifted a hand and pointed toward the spot where the crystal was.
She finally noticed the visor, she already had a feeling. At least—being a Miraluka—he had noticed the energy shift. In her hand, it was as if life had burned hotter than plasma for a short instant, and then it felt colder than ice. Her fingers tingled still.
The Living Force, so pure and raw.
“I could create anything with this, have you ever felt it so tangible?” She walked around the column, inspecting it for more moss, but she found none.
“Now, what are you here for?” She emphasized ‘you’, her modulated voice lowering, an echo following it.
“I haven’t,” he answered while shaking his head. He’d never felt something so radiant in the Force, it was almost too much for him to handle, so he was glad that its intensity lasted only for a few, fleeting moments.
Although his Force sight was of vital importance to him, Teon seldom used it for anything that didn’t serve a practical purpose. Lessons from his youth meant to teach him to revere the Force and the way it penetrated all living things were little more than distant whispers, now. The karkers who took stole him from his people made sure of that.
“How?” he inquired, “I can feel its significance, but how could you use this?” The intricacies of the way Jedi and Sith manipulated the Force was lost on him. He’d seen enough of them in combat to know what they were capable of, but he’d only allowed himself to know enough to be able to aid–or deter–them in battle.
“You’re not the first person to visit this place recently,” he explained. “Malachor has seen an uptick in travelers over the last few weeks, and my employers have noticed. I was sent to investigate.”
Hopefully, that was enough to satiate the woman’s curiosity. It would have to be, because he wasn’t going to share any of the more sensitive details regarding his mission.
“This? I would say it is useful for growth and fertility.” Alaisy felt her second skin rile up, she was tall enough as it was and it had taken so much to slow down her unnatural growth. “Not particularly useful by itself, but a nice ingredient for a greater purpose.”
Her shoulders raised up, as did her hands in a shrug. No one should be using this apocalypse as a tourist attraction. It diminished its melancholy.
“Travelers? Employers? They should know better. This is a deathtrap.” Malachor had certainly amplified her malicious thoughts at times. She could only imagine what it did to Force sensitives of lesser resolve.
“I am here on my own accord. If you venture down this particular temple I can already tell you, there is nothing here. I rigged this place. Do not enter. It is a tomb.” She wasn’t going to tell them what was down there. What fun would that be? She made a habit of entering crypts and graves of ancient Sith, to then reseal them in an ode to their people. They provided her with a strange kind of entertainment, a trial and a chance to create traps. And the life experience was priceless.
But in this case she had been here to check up on a memory crystal that she had placed here before. For some reason it hadn’t corrupted, unlike many others. The traps she had set prior to this visit really did not prove any challenge to anyone, so she went and gave them an update.
“I don’t think I’d want to see what kind of life a Sith would create. If you could even call it that,” he admitted, more musing aloud than replying to her directly. It was a prejudiced thought, that much was certain, but one born from his first-hand experience. He’d seen the Galaxy under the Sith’s rule–how they strived so hard to force it and its people to confirm to an order that was unnatural. He suspected that the Dark Side would compel them to bind and contort life itself in a similar manner.
“You don’t have to worry about me or my team stepping foot in that place,” he assured her, “If I had my way, a well-placed mortar would reduce the entire cursed place to rubble. I hope those are good traps, because I doubt we’ll be the last people to come to this place.”
‘What kind of life a Sith would create…’
She was puzzled by the question. Overthinking was always a bit of a flaw in her personality. It would be a powerful creature, of course, bred for war. Much greater qualities than a weak Republic-born child. That was aside from any alchemical or ritualistic enhancements she could think of. Somehow Alaisy didn’t even consider the well-being of it. The attention to perfection and training was love all by itself, something she never had enough of.
Her mind wandered but when she had answered all the questions for herself she turned back to the Miraluka. “Great, now where does that leave us? I intend to gather a few more handfuls of crushed-up, petrified, ancient Jedi. Then I will be on my way.”
“Oh, and you could destroy it. But perhaps my web will catch more bugs if you leave it alone.”
“Or they’ll fail and some other dar'jetii will use this place for whatever messed up plans they can think up,” he replied, “I’m not yet convinced that you don’t have similar goals, so I’ll be accompan–”
Teon cut his words short when he felt something. Distant piles of ash, once as deathly still as the petrified husks of jediit who’d perished lang syne, stirred in a passing breeze. There were no breezes on Malachor. Every report he’d read on the forsaken world prior to accepting this mission made it clear: the planet’s atmosphere was inert.
Tightening his hold on his rifle, the Miraluka turned to their right not because it helped him focus his senses any better, but to hopefully direct Alaisy’s attention.
“There’s something out there.”
One of the soldiers stepped forward and produced a handheld device, and Teon felt the faint buzz of electricity when it turned on. A few, tense moments passed before the man spoke.
“Not picking anything up on the biometric, infrared, or electromagnetic scans.”
Teon clicked his teeth gesturing to the Sith woman. “See if you can detect anything with the Force. I felt something.”
Alaisy raised her brow as Teon froze up mid-sentence. “What is it?” She reached out to the Force, but could not pick out anything more unusual than the static noise of this place.
“Get on top of the temple, I doubt sitting there in the ash will do you any good!” Tir'eivra squinted with her eyes behind the visor.
With a series of quick signs with a single hand, Teon commanded the members of his strike team to fan out, and they didn’t hesitate to follow his orders. Using their jetpacks to cover ground more quickly, two of them took point on the temple itself while two more positioned themselves behind some of the stone pillars that rose from the ash-laden promenade leading up to the temple’s entrance. That left one more to take up position a few feet to Teon’s right.
The Miraluka let his finger settle alongside his rifle’s trigger guard while keeping the weapon’s barrel aimed forward.
Alaisy reached out to the Force, but it resisted her will. However, as she scanned their surroundings in the hopes of finding whatever it was that Teon thought he'd sensed, she finally saw something. Confirmation of the man's suspicions came in the form of a face emerging from the darkness that hung everywhere on the desolate world. It was the kind of face that one might hear about in the haunting tales children often told one another by the fire, with pallid, yellowing skin stretched thin across a feeble chin and cheekbones that jutted out like two mythosaur horns. Embedded within its sunken eye sockets were two glowing motes of ... flame? Plasma? It wasn't clear, but the creature's piercing gaze seemed to borrow deep into the minds of anyone so misfortunate to lie eyes upon it. What little hair remained on its misshapen head undulated and convulsed in the still air.
Alaisy’s tail lowered, seeking to coil around her thigh. Not something she expected to see. Her heart pounded in her chest as the burning eyes felt like they had pierced her. The hissing of her mask increased in frequency even as Malachor’s atmosphere constricted it. Instinctually her clawed hands reached for her saberstaff. She held it at the ready but refrained from activating it.
“Be ready.” Tir'eivra’s modulated voice was merely a whisper.
Silence befell the area. The moments leading up to a battle were always the tensest, never failing to put the Miraluka soldier on edge. Fortunately, he knew how to use that anxious energy for something productive. Fear, when controlled, was a valuable tool to motivate oneself to get the job done. To not make mistakes. So, when the entity’s emaciated form appeared within Teon’s field of awareness, he didn’t hesitate to point and fire. A crimson bolt far larger than those by most blaster rifles exploded from the weapon’s barrel and struck the creature square in the chest.
But that didn’t seem to slow it down at all. It lashed out with its unnaturally long fingers and struck Teon across the face, knocking him aside with an unsettling wail.
The tall Sith followed the glowing eyes and gathered her courage. With a hiss, she took a deep breath, feeding off the Power surrounding the temple, and stretched out her free hand. A short, but bright beam of electricity crackled out of her fingertips. Her heart pounded faster in excitement. Then her chest felt heavy. The concentration of energy slipped by the monster as it evaded the blue light.
Her tail stood up as it came at her with its claws. With a hiss she inhaled, putting one boot in front of the other. She place the Chromium Spine in front of her.
Crack-hum
Crimson plasma lit up both the claws and herself as she sidestepped and swung the hilt diagonally. Her platforms crunched sand and rock. Her other hand caught the hilt after a spin.
“`Its claws crashed against the lightsaber’s crimson blade, momentarily bearing down on Alaisy with more strength than what the creature’s gaunt form suggested. The smell of cooking flesh filled the air between them as it curled its gnarled digits around the superheated plasma and, just when it seemed as if the Sith’s weapon would have no effect against it, the creature recoiled before it could attempt another blow with its claws.
A chorus of blaster fire erupted within the temple grounds as the strike team fired, painting their surroundings in red. But the creature dodged them all. It zipped from place to place as a blur before appearing before one of the soldiers and locking its hands around his helmet.”`
-
Teon was just getting back to his feet when he felt the life of one of his soldiers vanish without a trace–one candle flame amongst several, snuffed out. That thing held tossed him aside like a piece of trash.
“Dank ferrik,” the Miraluka muttered to himself while switching out his Relby for his shield. It emitted the unmistakable crack-hiss of a lightsaber when it the kyber crystal embedded within its handle flared to life, filling the empty space within the hexagonal durasteel frame with electric blue plasma.
“Your lightsaber seems like it’s more effective than our blasters!” he shouted over the drone of sustained blaster fire. “On me. I’ll make an opening for you.”
Alaisy felt it too. It was a distinct ebbing sensation. Like the sea pulled back and never returned, with only sand and empty shells left. She had done it too. Leeching the Force away, even for non-sensitives it was deadly. And having done it before always created a hunger that came with it, a craving for more. She could only imagine how the creature satiated itself like that. It was so much more powerful than her own.
The awe that struck her tingled her second skin. Little, pleasant pinpricks of delight that she should have had.
Please leave a corporeal essence behind, please, please, please
It was almost impossible to tear her attention away from it. The strain on her breathing brought her back to her senses. Malachor’s aura had that effect.
The crack-hiss coming from the Miraluka was not the kind she expected when turned her head.
What is that? A shield?
So many things struck here today, this display was as mystical as the entity they fought. Her mind had to piece everything together like an overclocked supercomputer it put everything in place. Tales from her uncle Dogond flooded back, times when she was perhaps a different creature herself, a little girl draining the libraries of their contents.
A high standing Sith, a Darth, a Duros
A rival to a Jedi Master, Bran Ath'Morath
The battle, a time long ago
Darth Caldoth
A satisfying click happened within her imagination.
“Impressive.” It didn’t happen often that Tir'eivra spoke with such admiration. But the shield was something special to behold. It brought her a certain pride and honor seeing it in action. The blue plasma flickering in her visor.
Somehow the battle ahead felt ancient, a trial of old. Tir'eivra was ready for it as she flourished her saberstaff. She joined the formation, a smirk forming behind the mask.
Alaisy’s comment earned a grin from Teon. It pleased him to know that she could recognize a weapon of masterful craftsmanship when she saw it.
“What’s your name, Dar'jetii?” he asked, while keeping his senses trained on the creature that writhed before them. “Figured we should at least be somewhat acquainted in case this thing kills us.”
Although the blasters didn’t seem to harm it, his team was doing a good job of keeping the creature pinned down. Unrelenting blaster fire from multiple directions had a way of doing that.
“Teon Sul.”
That was the last thing he’d say for now. They had a mother karker to kill. He’d accept nothing less after it killed one of his soldiers, a failure on his part and a failure that he would try–and fail–to explain to the man’s family later.
No more.
His jetpack roared to life and propelled him forward post haste. Seeing their commander flying into the fray prompted the strike team to cease fire just in time for him to deliver a menacing blow to the monster’s head. But it dipped beneath the shield just before it landed, and drifted away, cackling as it went.
The Sith faced Teon. It was strange in a way. So few actually asked for her name, everyone always seemed to know her before she knew them. How the tall woman wished she could throw her desired name down. But it was too early for that, far too early.
Aphotis, Aphotis, Aphotis. It sang to her.
Later.
Instead, she replied with her Imperial name, with an Imperial accent. “My name is Alaisy Tir'eivra.” It had always been a name too sweet for her. Alaisy stood for kindness. Tir'eivra meant forever. Ironic, kindness forever. Some had mistaken her first name for Daisy, even worse. The long-winded hiss that followed could have been likened to a sigh.
“Pleasure to fight by your side, Teon Sul.” Battle. The heat of battle was the only way she garnered friendship of any kind. His display had demanded respect, his shield, his courage, even the decision not to fully engage her was commendable. It would be a shame if he died to this equally awe-inspiring monster now.
Seeing him set off with his jetpack could have been something she would have done. The attack was full of class.
Unfortunate that it did not connect. The raspy cackle it made took away the fear in her heart for it. The chill on her second skin vanished. How could she possibly be scared of a laughing shadow?
I am the monster. .
Her claw swirled, tickling the ripples in the Force. She held her crimson light close, the hilt almost touching her chest, reflecting the refraction with her nails at the beast. The tail began to stroke her body it seemed. It spread oils over her alchemical skin, making it gleam and shine so much more. Ash and dust dripped off of her, cleaning her.
She shoved her boot forward, the metal heel also brimming as she turned the reflected light toward the shadow. Her hate and anger concentrated and transformed into tentacles of light. They burrowed into the entity, like the Dark Side crawling into someone’s skin. But it was beauty she forced on it. Perhaps a way to find fear in the beast, her tendrils sought out hope, light, flames, anything that had hurt it before. The deep-seated terrors inside of a terror.
Of course an entity such as that was hungry. And afraid of going hungrier. It was another form of avoiding pain. Avoidance of pain led to a natural state of being scared to go hungry. Tir'eivra’s brilliant mind, amplified by the intense power of the Force pulled everything to the surface. It needed to feed, and it ate the Force from sentients. Her nightmare made never feeding again a reality. A nightmare made solidified.
Ever since she was born, the creatures in the shadows had been her friends. These were the only beasts she cared for and loved. Downtrodden, neglected, feared entities. Her symbiote had been such a thing. And she embraced it, accepted it like it was her own life. And it was. But this terrible monstrosity was getting no love. Her own fear-laden claws would not stroke it or cuddle it. The beautiful black soul, protector of abominations, cast it aside. She had promised the demon all of these good things and then denied them.
This one was banished. No hope. Nothing. She made it clear that the monster was unworthy of existing.
Alaisy Tir'eivra.
He hadn’t noticed it until now, but the traces of an Imperial accent caught his attention when she gave her name. They hung in his mind, taunting him. It had been difficult enough that she was a Sith, but she was of Imperial stock, as well?
No. Now’s not the time.
Not when there was a whatever the kark this thing was trying to kill them both, eagerly waiting to consume every ounce of Force and life from their bodies. Old grudges were of no use here, so he decided to let sleeping dogs lie.
Teon hadn’t expected such a creature, a monstrosity, capable of knowing fear. But the Dark Side was a well whose depths seldom were fully understood–at least, that’s what his instructors in the Luka Sene on Lazuno taught him in his youth. Although he lacked the nuanced Force abilities to truly appreciate what was happening in the ghastly entity’s mind, the feeling of terror ripped from the surface and laid bare was unmistakable.
The wispy creature recoiled from Alaisy’s presence, like it’d seen some unspeakable horror that made even it seem like a child’s toy in comparison. Teon wondered what Alaisy had made it see.
“It’s on the run! Press forward! Sauvax formation!”
The Miraluka charged while his soldiers started to flank the creature on both sides, relying on countless hours of practice to corral the wraith with heavy suppressive fire. It instinctively slashed at him when he got close, but Teon already had his shield raised to slam it against the towering stone doors of the temple’s entrance.
“Do whatever you have to to kill this son of a schutta!” shouted Teon to Alaisy, gritting his teeth while pressing his shield forward with all his might.
Seeing such a primal emotion come to the surface was delightful. The fight or flight response. It had shown that it was vulnerable. There was something so utterly alluring about a predator turned prey.
Teon and his men gave it chase, clouds of ash following in their wake. Alaisy followed them on their heel. An impressive display, ancient in comparison to modern tactics. She adored it, seeing the terror become trapped against a door was like having it strapped on the rack.
“Hold it there, it is perfect.” There was a maliciousness in Tir'eivra’s voice.
The Sith towered next to Teon, her tail playfully sliding over his back as he held the unique barrier up. Echoing whispers followed Alaisy’s hands as she pounced the monstrosity. There had been no hissing breaths. Alaisy had cut her air off like she often did during intense battles. It worked to increase her focus and drive her excitement further, to push past boundaries.
Her boots crunched the rocks as she leaned into the entity. She could feel it trembling, tickling her skin. It made her heart pound harder and faster. The massive wooden door rattled like a dungeon chamber.
Dark Side energy coalesced as she embraced the beast. The Force began to pull towards the sleek woman. Its claws desperately lashed out. Her eyes behind the visor showed nothing but lust as her back was torn open. Alchemical latex screamed at her, the pale skin underneath bleeding.
She embraced the pain, reveling in it. It helped her dive into the Force, commanding it to her side. The bursting life it contained was siphoned away with death’s kiss. Her visor pressed against its burning eyes. Her flesh and second skin mended as fast as it tore her apart. Blood trailed over her tail and backside, down her legs, dripping off the tips of her heels.
. Nothing had healed her this fast before. Alaisy gorged on its ancient vigor. Electric-blue eyes shifted to a blazing yellow. A broken, stuttering moan fogged her mask from the inside as she exhaled with a hiss. The pleasure of the feeding far outweighed the stinging torment.
The more the entity tried to wring itself loose from her grip, the more she tightened herself around it.
It began weakening. Her heart was filled with pity, her mind with wicked perversion. Alaisy felt radiant and superheated as the shape diminished. Her tongue ravenously licked the rubber nose cup of her mask.
Gravelly, deep cackling filled her thoughts. They ebbed and flowed as the wraith melded with her spirit.
The monster inflated. Then it exploded into a cloud of smoke. Every trail of vapor seeped into the tall Sith. Her eyes glowed brightly, much like the eldritch abomination had before.
There was a loud pop and rapid hissing as air flowed back into her mask. Alaisy whimpered between breaths. It felt like her stomach could burst. Oversatiated with joy. But there was also a rosy tingling and a weightlessness. Her hand ran over her alchemical suit, clicking and snapping as she felt herself out. Her tail twitched and wiggled as blood drops fell off.
The Sith had been in a dimension of her own, adding a new trophy and pet to her Garden of Trepidations. She would tend to it and unleash it upon her future victims with sadistic pleasure.
Her head turned towards Teon and his squad as she slowly came back to her senses.
They are still here
If her helmet did not cover her face the men would have seen her blush. Except for the Miraluka of course, who would likely notice the surge as she consumed the terror. It would not have looked cute with her blood-shot yellow eyes. She backpedaled on her heels, letting her spine drop against the huge door, slumping and sliding down.
He’d never felt anything like it. The wraith’s fear was usurped by the contemptuous amusement of the towering Sith who descended upon it like a vornskr going for the kill. It bucked and writhed against them both with every ounce of strength that remained, but Teon was unrelenting in his efforts. Gloved digits ached against the light shield’s hilt, begging for him to loosen his grip, but he ignored it.
The tail on his back sent a small chill up his spine, and likely would have earned a more notable response were he not so focused on ending this karking thing once and for all.
Both the creature and Alaisy were aglow with torrid darkness, but the latter’s burned even brighter as she siphoned its life away just as it had done to one of his soldiers. What twisted, gratifying irony. Teon rammed his shield forward harder, and the massive wooden doors creaked.
Caught up in the tidal wave of Dark Side energy emitted by the woman standing near him, he’d traded his look of frigid determination for something lying between a grimace and a grin. Vindicative feelings poured from the Miraluka’s heart as he breathed wildly, trails of spittle thrown from his mouth.
The Dark Side had taken root.
And before he knew it, the deed had been done. Any trace of the abomination in the Force had vanished, consumed by the Sith who’d aided him.
The muscles in his arms finally relaxed when the creature exploded into a cloud of smoke. The energetic buzz of his shield went silent when he deactivated it. A much-needed sigh of relief left his lips.
It was hard not to notice the feelings of arousal and bliss that drifted from Alaisy’s mind as she slid down against the temple door. He moved toward her while lifting a hand to dismiss his team.
“Sweep the area and make sure there aren’t more surprises waiting for us when we leave this cursed place.”
And they didn’t hesitate in doing so.
That left the two of them there– alone.
-
He kneeled in front of her, close enough to hear the faint hiss of her breaths beneath her mask. Although he said nothing, the feeling of appetent curiosity that drifted from his mind said enough.
What she represented sickened him, yet, he was unable to pull his attention away from her. There was something about struggling with another against death itself that always got to him. And made him weak with desire.
The yellow slowly ebbed away from her eyes, bringing back the highly saturated blue. She peered at Teon, a smile forming in her eyes.
It took her a moment to change her voice from croaky and sultry to her composed Imperial lilt. “I take it you felt all of that?” She realized there was no hiding from it. And there was no point in diminishing the moment.
In fact her muscles still felt limp from the euphoria. Her living suit crawled over her like it was the first time she had felt the sensual fabric, perhaps better. The heart was hungry for more, but her brain warned her not to be greedy.
There was that accent again, returned to taunt him. He inhaled sharply and forced the breath out of his mouth.
“I did,” he admitted, “It was … intense. Captivating.”
Just like you.
He was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and it sent a wave of trepidatious excitement rippling through him. The rush of combat that he’d grown to love, to rely upon, paled in comparison to the electrifying feeling of flirting with someone so inherently dangerous. Whispers of the Dark floated in the back of his mind, enticing him to act against his better judgement.
She raised a brow. “How fortunate for you to have witnessed the moment so vividly.”
With claws pressed against the door she raised herself up. She chuckled as her limbs shook. Her tail swung mischievously behind her.
“Trust me when I tell you that this was unorthodox even for a Sith.” She wiped any ash still stuck to her away. A chill of pleasure going over her each time.
Her breaths were still shallow. The buzz was going to last for a while and her combat effectiveness was likely being hindered.
“Would you like to share a drink with me when we leave this place? I think it would be best not to linger.” The Sith gave it her best to sound inviting, unable to hide the smokiness in her voice anyway. It was a common thing she did after a kill, to take a break before heading onward. She really did not want to take something so dark and terrifying home. Best to let it equalize.
“I’m not sure if ‘fortunate’ is the word I’d use.”
He mirrored her movements, rising to his feet and dusting himself off. Something about the petrified remains of ancient Force users clinging to his body felt wrong in more ways than he cared to explore. They needed to get off of this wretched planet. So, when Alaisy mentioned leaving, he was more than happy to accept her offer–especially because there were drinks involved.
“A drink with a Sith? Add to the list of what makes this mission unorthodox,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “But give me a moment.”
Touching a finger to his comlink, he sent instructions for the remainder of his team to rendezvous at the ship and head back to Arx, informing them that he’d catch up with them later.
Once that was finished, he lifted a hand. “Lead the way, Alaisy Tir'eivra.”
Seeing him move like her was enticing and amusing for more than one reason. “Excellent. Arx? Interesting.” The Brotherhood Capital was a unique jewel that she had visited before she was given The Matron as Herald. A shame she had to leave such power behind, but it had been for the best.
Alaisy pressed on the side of her helmet. “Zag, come in. You can unveil Shimmer now.”
A jittery, silvery voice replied. “What is there to unveil Tir’eivra? The ship hasn’t been cloaked for a long time you know? It can’t even do that! There was no need anyway. It’s completely covered in dust!” The Zygerrian shot up from the pilot’s chair, clearly munching on something between words. “Come on over, I’ll prep her for ya! Don’t forget Creepy on yer way back! Zag ou-“
Tir’eivra cut the pink nosed pilot off. “I am bringing in a guest, do not be rude and you better make sure there is something nice left to drink Miss. Umangi.” Alaisy’s voice was more polite than normal, with some excitement in it.
“Uhm, okay, you sound different. Is everything fine? Are you possessed? What exactly are you bringing on board? Is he hands-“ Alaisy closed the comms with a click.
The Sith looked towards Teon. “The ship is ready. Start thinking of what you would like. I have a wide selection available on board.” She flicked her tail playfully as she turned on her heel. “This way, come on.”
The tall woman clicked her tongue, calling for her millipede droid.
“You’re familiar?” asked Teon, his tone tinged with curiosity. Although his familiarity with the Brotherhood and the rest of the Galaxy had led him to suspect that she was affiliated with the former in some way, he knew that few of the Brotherhood’s subjects had ever visited the secluded capital.
When Alaisy began to speak across her comlink, he passively listened to her conversation with whom he presumed to be her pilot. It was unfortunate that the Sith cut their call short, but he had enough context to conclude what the rest of her sentence was. He chuckled.
Teon followed behind her closely, staying just far enough away to give her flickering tail suitable berth lest he catch an accidental smack from it.
He didn’t even have to think on a drink. When they made it aboard the ship, Teon opened his Sight a bit wider than he normally allowed it to go, stretching into every nook and cranny to map out his surroundings.
“Do you have Cassandran Brandy?” he asked, not wanting to to seem odd by just standing there silently while he explored. “I’ve been told that I have expensive tastes.”
“Go on, find somewhere comfortable to sit. Once you reach the Wroshyyyr hardwood floor I will ensure a bottle is ready.” Alaisy peered around, it looked like Zag had cleaned up after herself after all. She opened the drinks cabinet and picked out the Cassandran Brandy, not something she had often. But this was a time to celebrate, and if she was going to have a good taste, now would be the time.
Good
It felt pleasant hearing the click clacking of her heels on the luxurious paneling of her ship again. Even through the thickened sole of her boot, she could feel the ash and sand. Everything on her body was more sensitive than usual, especially the alchemical parts. A small scrubber droid followed both of them around, cleaning away any dirt they had taken with them. Creepy snuck inside the recharging station.
The tall woman ran her hand over the ribbed air hose of her mask. Its sensitivity almost made her nauseous. Vital parts made of the alchemical latex were always more delicate, but this was downright impossible.
Too much
With a loud, high-pitched hiss the tube disconnected from the tanks on her back, clasps unhooking the ponytail cuff and metal plates moving over each other. Her ponytail fell down into long straight raven hair, flanking her face neatly. The nose-cup and other alchemical rubber parts retreated from her face. She placed her domed Sith facemask in the wardrobe together with her backpack.
Soon after, her bodysuit retreated from her calves and upper arms, forming a long dress in its stead. Somehow the transformation was much more rapid than usual. The Dark Side power of the spirit she had absorbed acted like a steroid to her second skin.
Interesting
Alaisy placed the bottle on the table and stretched her opera-gloved arms out over the couch. “Come, sit.” Her tail tapped the space next to her and flicked back away from it. Latex loosened so her legs could cross, then it tightened again. .
“So, where are we heading?” The Zygerrian called out from the cockpit.
Wroshyr hardwood. Based on the name, he suspected that must have been one of the more expensive ones. He’d only known starships to have metal flooring, usually made out of some kind of durasteel alloy or other suitably inexpensive blend. As they stepped into the room she preferred, Teon squatted low to touch the floor. Sensitive digits glided along its surface. The wood was hard to the touch and polished to the point where it was nearly as smooth as glass. And he felt no breaks in its uniformity; every plank was perfectly level.
“Seems like you’ve done very well for yourself,” he commented before standing upright again.
He did his best to give the droids present on the ship a wide berth. Although they weren’t completely imperceptible to him, they felt … unnatural to him in a way that other nonliving objects didn’t. Motile and debatably conscious yet, untouched by the winds of the Force that saturated even the most Force insensitive among a Galaxy teeming with life.
The hiss of Alaisy’s mask pulled Teon from thoughts of his own slight discomfort. As she removed it and revealed her face to him, he was finally able to see the true depth of the radiant darkness that clung to her tighter even than the second skin she wore. He’d caught glimpses of it, but the mask had hidden how the Dark Side seemed to wreathe her countenance whose features the Force knitted into a convenient image in his mind.
Precarious and beautiful in equal measure.
When she beckoned him over, he didn’t hesitate to do so, taking his place at her side and turning just enough for her to see his face. At least, all the wasn’t obscured by his visor.
“Where are we going, Miss Tir'eivra?” he inquired, a hint of playfulness carried in the otherwise measured tone of a career soldier.