Irrepareable Damage

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

I was wondering what your reaction was going to be. Occasionally I made mention of how many days/week/months they had left until he could, in their opinion, safely leave the military. But I am glad it was unexpected It is no fun when people guess what you are going to do.

Sorry for the confusion. Things sadly are probably going to be a bit rough for Aric for awhile. Having someone dig around in your head using the Force isn't very good for your well-being.

 

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 2

 

 

Timeline immediately following the preceding prompt

UNKNOWN

 

They were gone, the older pulled out of the room by the younger. He could still hear them; they were not far away. Muffled words and sobs still reached his ears. The whole thing was preposterous, just more lies to twist his thinking.

 

As if such a thing was possible, he shifted on the floor trying to find a more comfortable position. A dull tinking filled the air as he moved his arm, glancing towards the noise his eyes locked onto the source. The remnants of the durasteel chain was melted and fused, the sheered link haphazardly attached to its neighbor.

 

He stared at the melted link; slowly he brought up his other hand. Looking at the other shackle he realized its chain had also been melted. He stared at them side by side, they had been sliced off, with something incredibly hot.

 

A saber. A saber could slice through metal like a hot knife through butter. A loud sob filled the air. He tore his eyes off the chains and glanced at the closed door. It's not possible, is it? Another sob drifted through the doors followed by murmured words of comfort.

 

It couldn’t be true, could it? He didn’t know her, or the younger woman. Did he? His head began to ache. Clenching his teeth he lowered his hands to the ground. Refusing to let the damn white light return. He was allowed to think, damn it; this was going to stop. This had to; he needed to figure out what was going on.

 

He gritted his teeth as he rolled onto his side. She had claimed she was his mate... His head began to pound, growling he tried to ignore it. He refused to let that damn white light win; he needed to know. A loud sob filled the air, looking at the door he frowned. The grief, the pain on the other side of that door was so thick it was tangible. He needed to know, was that blasted Sith a really good actor or... or was she telling the truth?

 

He pushed his aching body towards the wall, reaching up he grabbed the dark durasteel and sunk his claws in, hauling his weight upwards onto protesting legs. He was going to find out if anything she had said was true. This room smelled of her and if he truly was with this woman, then there would be signs of him in this room. Gripping the wall he slowly moved along, awkwardly limping towards the bed.

 

Leaning heavily against the headboard he pulled the black coverlet back; bending over he forced his tired eyes to focus. Staring at the black sheets he found a long red hair under one of the many pillows. He snorted she had red hair and then his smug expression faded, so did he. He kept searching and a golden glimmer caught his eye. Reaching out he grasped the hair, holding it up in the dim lighting, it was definitely gold and his, but a hair can be planted. Plus it was so short, why was it so short. He ran his hand through his mane and stopped when his hand hit his shoulder. Perplexed he again looked at the shed golden hair, when a dark glint caught his eye. Dropping the hair on the bed he bent to get a closer look, on the upper edge of the headboard there were four gouges in the metal. Hand shaking he placed his fingers into the gouges, his claws fit perfectly.

 

Dropping his hand he backed up, staring at the headboard. They looked so real and based on their placement they had been created during a rather enthusiastic amorous session. He glanced back at the door; it couldn’t be true could it? Biting his lip he peered through the darkness, the vague shape of a large armoire sat a meter or so away from the bed. Leaning against the bed he slowly made his way around. When he ran out of mattress he balanced on his left leg, hopping the best he could, in an attempt to keep all weight off his wrenched knee.

 

When he reached the huge piece of furniture he leaned up against it, cursing the ancestors for allowing him to get into this situation. Half hopping to the left he opened the door. Inside clothes were neatly hung, the strong scent of both Human and Cathar musk hit his nose. He gripped the door, desperately clinging to it. Hand shaking he reached out and began moving the hanging garments, neatly placed alongside robes of varied dark colours were grey Republic military fatigues, several pairs of slacks, shirts, even a black leatheris jacket. Gripping the clothes rod he leaned forward burying his nose in the fabric, they all smelled of her, even the Republic fatigues carried the faint muted scent that fabric attracts when it is housed with another person's affects.

 

No, he shook his head, that could have been planted too, it was possible. He needed more... he also needed something for his damn knee. That hurt worse than his chest and was in a damn tie with his head. He needed to get some kolto or maybe a painkiller. Turning he hopped towards the darkened far wall of the room, too distracted with the thoughts of trying to dull his pain to realize what he was doing.

 

Griping the doorframe he limped into the refresher, moving towards the sink. Leaning against the basin, he turned on the water as he opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of kolto oil and a small bottle of pills, cracking open the bottle he poured four pills into his palm and froze. Hand shaking he shoved the pills into his mouth, cupping his hand under the cold water he drank a couple handfuls, the water awakening his thirst. He moved his mouth under the faucet, drinking. Wiping his mouth he turned the water off and gripped the sides of the basin.

 

How had he known that those pills were in there? Not only that they were there but their exact location? Without looking he reached up and reopened the cabinet; shaking fingers pulled out a toothbrush, right where he knew it would be. He had no clue who he was or why he was here but he knew they layout of the medicine cabinet? Closing the door he stared at the mirror, his blue-eyed reflection mute.

 

Leaning in he studied his face, someone had attempted to clean him up, although poorly. There was still dried and matted blood in his facial fur and mane. He glanced at the 'fresher stall longingly, he really wanted to get the dried blood and grit off his body and out of his fur, it was making his hide crawl being so dirty. He didn't dare, he had no idea how long those Sith were going to stay outside the room and he had no idea if that blasted collar could get wet. After the day he had, last thing he wanted was to electrocute himself in the 'fresher. That would be a nice touch.

 

Looking down at his wrists he grimaced, he could take care of them though. Well try to. Shoving his bloody and ripped sleeves up to his elbows, he turned on the water and gritted his teeth. Stars that hurt, he held his hands under the cold stream of water, morbidly staring at the blood-laden water that swirled around the drain. Eventually the water ran clear. He bit the top off the kolto and began to pour the thick oil on his wrists, hissing when it hit the raw skin.

 

The cool chilling sensation of the kolto gradually warmed soothing the ravaged joints. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was the best thing he had felt since waking up. Dipping his fingers into the water he started cleaning his face, fighting with matted blood, swallowing growls every time he applied too much pressure. Finally his fur was free of grime; straightening he pushed his damp mane behind his ears as he studied his face.

 

There was a healing gouge above his right eye; it had split the skin running along his brow. Frowning he poured oil on his thumb and began applying liberal amounts to the wound. His ears ached, he slathered the oil all over the sensitive cartilage, he paused when he saw the two earrings along the upper edge of his left ear, he thought he only had his earlobes pierced? Shaking his head he continued, he had bigger riddles to solve. His jaw throbbed, it felt as if he had tried to stop a tram with his face, or perhaps someone had used his head as a Huttball. He worked more oil along his cheeks and jaw, opening his mouth he took a huge hit off the bottle, swishing it around his mouth, the overpowering taste of saline assaulting his palette and flooding his sinuses.

 

He managed to roll the horrid tasting kolto around in his mouth for almost two minutes before he bent over and spat the green liquid down the drain. Shoving his mouth under the faucet he desperately swallowed trying to cleanse the taste out of his mouth. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he again looked at his face, something was off. He stared, deciding it had to be his mane, he had never worn it so short, it was brushing the bottom of his shoulder blades. Leaning in he studied his eyes looking for any more signs of trauma. Everything looked normal, his sclera was a bright blue, his irises were violet and his pupils were not dilated or miss-shaped. They still looked just like Mom's.

 

The pain pills had started to kick in, he was able to breathe a bit easier but putting any weight onto his knee was out of the question. Recapping the kolto bottle he began to make his way out of the refresher. He needed a place to try to fix his knee. Scanning the room he ruled out the bed, there was a heavy chair in the corner near the door. That would work. Half limping, half hopping he made his way to the heavy, wooden, burgundy upholstered chair. Sitting on the edge of the chair he managed to work his boots off, dropping them on the floor. Grunting he pulled his ripped slacks up over his swollen knee. He swore it was the size of a Huttball, it was so bruised the massive black spots were visible even under his fur. By the ancestors what had he gotten into? Gingerly he applied the oil to his knee, yowling and jerking when it made contact. Hissing he continued to pour more oil onto the wounded joint. Gritting his teeth he rubbed the oil into his fur, his other hand in a death-lock around the chair's wooden arm. Thankfully the oil began to warm, sinking into the joint. Sighing he replaced the top on the bottle placing on the floor. He knew there was an easier way to do this; he just wished he could remember what it was.

 

Dropping his hands off the chair he wrapped them around the back legs. His claws slid into well-gouged tracks in the wood. He froze. The tracks were well hidden from view but every comfortable. Cautiously he felt them, they were at least a claws-length deep, someone had sat there for hours, scratching them into the wood. His stomach churned. The chances of anyone even thinking of planting something like this was remote, only another Cathar would think to sharpened their claws on the inside legs of a chair.

 

He heard another muffled sob, his eyes shot towards the door. It couldn’t be true could it? His hands gripped the well-worn claw tracks. Her clothes smelled of him, he knew the contents of the medicine cabinet, if he had been tossed in here like a sack of flour how would he know that the kolto was kept next to the toothpaste?

 

Letting go of the chair he slid to the floor, his knee screaming. Scooting along the floor he stopped, leaning against the door. The unlocked door. They didn’t lock it when they left, if he was a prisoner wouldn’t they of locked it? He put his ear against the door. He could barely make out what they were saying. One kept saying it was her fault that she was not fast enough, the other, it had to be the younger woman, kept telling her that she did all she could, that she stopped them from torturing Aric to death.

 

He shook his head, he didn’t know who this Aric person was, but they kept calling him Aric. Apparently someone was trying to kill him, or tried, and that Sith stopped it. Another grief filled sob rolled through the air, it was oppressive, the Sith's sadness was so palatable it made him ache. She was so devastated because of him. He laid his hand on the door, he thought briefly about opening the door and going to her. But he stopped himself, he wouldn’t help anything, he honestly had no idea who those women were, ancestors be damned he had no idea who he even was, how could he help anyone?

 

 

AN

Prompt. Health and a good dose of communication breakdown thrown in.

 

[frauzet]

Good to see, Aric is starting to think again. I like how he gathered all the clues of him possibly been there before.

Looking forward to see how this progresses.

[Iheaca]

I finally found some time to read you!! And I am so happy I did. :-) I only went through the first chapter so far but I am already looking forward to have time for the next one. :-)

 

I have been so jealous when I read the first paragraph... It made me realise that my level of english is still very far from what I would like it to be...

Edited June 26, 2018 by Iheaca

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

Aric doesn't strike me as the type to just sit and wait so it made sense to me that he would try to puzzle things out on his own. I hope you enjoy where things are going to be going.

 

 

@ Iheaca

I am glad you are enjoying the story. You also have plenty of reading material So I hope you continue to enjoy it and I look forward to reading what you think of it.

Oh don't be jealous. I have been using English my entire life and it is not an easy language to learn, least that is what I have been told. I applaud anyone trying to write Fanfic in another language, it has to be daunting. I could not even imagine trying to write a story in Spanish, I do not think my grasp on the language is anywhere near good enough.

I am flattered that you enjoy my writing.

I think you are doing a great job writing in English. I think the more you do, the better you will get at it. So keep at it.

 

 

Spoilers, none I can think of.

PART II CHAPTER 3

 

 

 

 

Timeline: twelve hours later

UNKNOWN

 

Whispered words teased him awake. Groaning he shifted against the unyielding floor. Rubbing his face he rolled flat onto his back; blinking up into the dimly lit room. The floor again illuminated in dark red light, knuckle-rubbing his eye he blinked actually thankful for the light change. The red was much easier on his aching eyes.

 

The whispering grew louder, every word spoken in a muffled Imperial voice. Straining he tried to listen, to discern individual words. He was unable to, not from this spot on the floor. Grunting as he sat up he glanced at the still closed door. Gripping the wall he pulled himself up to his feet; using the security of the durasteel wall he limped closer to the wall. Tucking a loose lock behind his ear he pressed his ear against the door. The voices begrudgingly took on a muffled clarity; he could pick out multiple voices each possessing its own owner. All were Imperial.

 

Holding his breath he listened. There were both men and women speaking but he did not hear the two women from earlier. Individual words still refused to be heard but he felt the tension behind them. The voices began to grow louder as if they were getting closer; his eyes widened they were getting closer. Pushing away from the door he started limping as fast as he could towards the wooden chair. That meter and a half seemed to take forever to cross, his knee started to throb, clawed fingers grabbed the chair, easing his aching body into the plush burgundy upholstery. Trying to calm his rapid shallow breathing he sank deeper into the chair.

 

A timid knock echoed off the door. He held his breath waiting, his fingers gripping the chair arms. Again the knock echoed, followed by a feminine voice, a new voice.

 

“Can we come in?”

 

He swallowed, took a deep breath and answered, “Yes.”

 

The dark grey durasteel slid into the wall, standing in the entry was a pair of Twi'leks. The woman was a skinny azure skinned Twi'lek, standing beside her was a taller male Twi'lek, his skin was a vivid red, his lekku covered in natural mottled markings. Those lekku were impressive they reached well past his waist, their tips actually brushing against the middle of his thighs.

 

He stared at them; something about them was vaguely familiar.

 

“So can we come in?” The woman asked again.

 

“Yes... yes you can.”

 

The two Twi'leks slowly entered the room, the man moved to the chair. Cautiously he knelt in front of him. The red-skinned Twi'lek spoke, his thickly accented voice seemed so familiar, and he was wrong this Twi'lek didn't sound Imperial at all. “I am going to take a look at you.” He held his hands up, “I am just going to look, see what is injured on you.”

 

He nodded staring at the man, his head started to ache, gritting his teeth he refused to let that damn pain return, he focused on repressing it.

 

The Twi'lek man stopped moving, his grey eyes widened slightly. He felt a spiking of fear roll off the Twi'lek. The red-skinned man glanced at his companion; she made an encouraging gesture with her hands. The Twi'lek briefly nodded, his lekku twitching.

 

“Alright,” he opened the black bag that he had placed at the foot of the chair, “going to do a basic diagnostic scan.”

 

He nodded, forcing his jaw to unclench. Shifting his weight in the chair he watched the red-skinned Twi'lek pull a medical scanner out of the bag. Activating it the Twi'lek slowly ran the green light over his body; he listened, it beeped and protested as it passed over his still swollen knee, over his stomach and sides it whined again, the machine let out a long protesting beep when the red-skinned Twi'lek passed it over his left side causing the man to stop and run the green light over it again. The Twi'lek frowned, staring at the hand-held machine punching unseen buttons before continuing on to his head. The machine uttered one last protesting whine before the Twi'lek deactivated the green light and sat back on his feet frowning at the screen, his agile fingers flew over the display tapping.

 

With a sigh he sat it next to him on the floor, digging in his black bag the Twi'lek pulled out another device, smaller cylindrical in shape; like a hydrospanner but not. The Twi'lek fiddled with it as he raised his rump off his feet and leaned forward. The red-skinned man reached out his fingers cautiously touching his shoulder. His red fingers slowly moved to his ear. The Twi'lek brought the device up to his ear, looking. Fingers gently pulled on his jaw. He winced but complied, closing his eyes as he moved his head. Fingers touched his other ear, they moved to his mouth. He opened his aching jaw, obediently sticking his tongue out without being told. He had a check-up before; he knew what was expected of him. The fingers moved to his eyes; he opened them up, a bright yellow light in front of his left eye. Again he felt that odd spiking of fear as fingers disappeared from his face and the light blinked out. Brows furrowed he looked to the red-skinned Twi'lek, the man was staring at him, his grey eyes wide, his lekku furiously twitching.

 

“Whats the matter?” the blue-skinned Twi'lek asked stepping closer. “Whoa...” she stopped staring at him. “That's umm... unexpected... Is he... can he see?”

 

The red-skinned man nodded his head, his lekku continuing their furious twitching and vibrating. The woman laid her hand on the red-skinned man's shoulder. “Keep going.” She ran her fingers lightly down his left lekku. The red-skinned man nodded, slowly moving the cylinder towards his face.

 

Again he brought the yellow light up in front of his eye, scanning first the left then the right. Swallowing he placed the device back into his bag. “Your right knee is a mess; its been dislocated, there are cartilage tears, looks to be two. You also have strained tendons and multiple hairline fractures; your kneecap itself is broken. It's really beyond what I am capable of treating. There is extensive bruising above and to both kidneys and your back. Three of your ribs are broken, two more are cracked, and your jaw is fractured. Most of your other minor bruises and cuts seem to be healing well enough. The Twi'lek sighed, “I think you need to go into the tank, if you would allow it.”

 

The tank? He shuddered, willingly be put into a kolto tank in an unknown building? He gripped the chair arms tighter. In the tank he would be completely helpless. He wasn’t really in combat ready shape but at least if he was awake he could fight if he had to.

 

“I... I don't … know, in a tank?” his arms started shaking as his head began to ache. “I can't go in there,” his stomach started to roll, sending acidic bile up his throat. “I can't go in there Jy’lith... I can't.”

 

The red-skinned Twi'lek reached out grasping his hand. “You know me?”

 

He nodded his head, “I... I do... I do,” his eyes widened. He looked past the kneeling Twi'lek to the woman standing at his shoulder. The ache in his head began to grow but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge it. “You, you're Vette.”

 

“Got that right mister, now how about we get you cleaned up and on a medical bed?”

 

He shook his head no, the thought of leaving the security of this room frightening.

 

“Aww come on, can't tell me you want to stay all dirty in those filthy clothes?” she crossed her arms across her chest.

 

He shook his head, swallowing hard. He really wanted to be clean; he really wanted to stop hurting but to leave this room to get into a tank?

 

“Come on, we will help you,” the azure skinned Vette chirped.

 

“But I...”

 

“But nothing,” she stepped closer, “come on lets get going.” She reached out grasping his hand. “Come on, on the count of three.”

 

“No!” he yelled. “No I can't not with these.” He held his hands up, “I can't.” The shaking grew worse as his stomach rolled, “I can't.”

 

“Sure you can, that's easy to fix.” She reached into her belt pulling out a slim black case; opening it she pulled out two thin silver rods. “Hold still please.” She grinned as she bent over a shackle. He felt the click as it opened; gently she removed it from his wrist. He yowled when the metal pulled against his bare skin, reopening the scabbed over wounds. The metal made a dull thunk as it hit the floor. She moved to his other wrist, the second manacle quickly following the first to the floor. Teeth clenched he lifted his bleeding wrists up.

 

“Yikes,” she muttered, “those were on there tighter than I thought.”

 

He stared at his wrists, entire swatches of his hide was fur free, leaving only ripped and bleeding red skin. “We will get that patched up, first though,” Vette moved behind him, “tilt your head, we need to get rid of this awful thing.”

 

He complied closing his eyes and lowering his chin too his chest. Her fingers moved his mane off his neck exposing that damn blasted shock collar. He flinched as he felt those fingers poke and prod. She clicked low in her throat and the pressure was suddenly gone. The heavy weight disappeared as she removed the shock collar.

 

“How?” he lifted his head up, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

She grinned, “Tombs are not the only thing I can open you know. Come on let's get you cleaned up.” A blushing plum crept across her cheeks under her violet eyes. “I will let Jy’lith help you inta' the 'fresher.”

 

She quietly excused herself from the room, pausing to close the door behind her. He noticed again the door was left unlocked. Jy’lith looked at him then glanced at the 'fresher. “Might be easier to get you undressed out here, then move you.”

 

He swallowed, hesitantly nodding his head; he really didn't want to undress in front of the Twi'lek.

 

Jy’lith raised his brow, “Feeling a bit modest are you?”

 

He nodded, “Yes I … I don't want to...”

 

Jy’lith smothered a small grin, “First time for everything huh, I have treated you before so its nothing I have not seen.”

 

“You have?”

 

“Yes, I have, it's just a shower, then another check over in the medical bay. When that is finished and you permit it, you will be going into the tank.”

 

He bit his lip. “What do you want me to do?”

 

“First take off your shirts, then I will help you with your pants, if you need. Then I will help you into the 'fresher stall.”

 

Shakily nodding his head he unbuttoned his wrecked dress shirt. Pulling it off he held it in his hands unsure what to do with it. Jy’lith held his hand out gently taking it away. Nodding he proceeded to pull his bloodstained undershirt off over his head.

 

He felt something hit his chest as a gentle think reached his ear. Looking down he saw two oval disks dangling off a long chain. Reaching down he grabbed the metal. Bringing it closer to his face he squinted inspecting an oval disk; raised bold type-faced aurebesh: Captain Jorgan, Aric: Republic Army Special Force Squad 326: Cathar / Coruscant: HVC -94-5643.

 

Jy’lith knelt next to him, “Those are your dog tags.”

 

“Mine?”

 

“Yes, very much yours.”

 

He ran a clawed thumb over the embossed metal. “So it's true.”

 

“What's true?” Jy’lith asked his voice was farther away.

 

“My name, this is my name.”

 

“It is what I have always known you as.” His voice was closer. “Come, that can't go in the tank.” Jy’lith gently removed the disks from his fingers and the chain from his neck. “Need to get those slacks off. I will have your clothes mended and cleaned, they will be waiting for you when you get out.”

 

Get out; he shivered. He had to get into a tank. Fingers shaking he unbuttoned his slacks, lifting his rump he managed to wiggle the material down to his knees. He felt his ears heat up. Quickly he covered his modesty keeping his head bowed.

 

Jy’lith chuckled as he slid the pants off his legs. “You normally don't wear undergarments.”

 

“What?” he looked up at the grinning Twi'lek through his loose mane.

 

“It's true,” the red-skinned man stood shaking out the stained and ripped slacks. “Don't worry I found you something to wear in the tank.” He held up a pair of black boxers, they looked to be silk.

 

“Those?” he squeaked.

 

Jy’lith's brow rose as he looked at the garment in his hand. “What's the matter with these? These are nice. Fine Killik silk, wish I had a pair.”

 

He shook his head, his ears growing warmer. “They are a bit extravagant.”

 

Jy’lith chuckled, “Perhaps. Come lets get you cleaned up.” The Twi'lek reached down grasping his upper arm, “Lean on me, keep weight off your knee.”

 

Nodding he pushed off the chair, leaning heavily against the shorter Twi'lek. Somehow he managed to limp his way into the 'fresher without moving his hand. Jy’lith held the door open helping him lean against the wall.

 

“Your things are here, I believe.” Jy’lith pointed to a collection of bottles, “Will leave a towel for you on the basin. Yell if you need help.”

 

He nodded his head; the red-skinned Twi'lek closed the door. He bent his head letting the water flow over him, breathing a small content sigh he reached out grabbing a bottle. After thoroughly lathering up his hide and mane he stood under the water, letting it rinse his body clean. Regretfully he shut off the water and opened the stall door.

 

Grabbing the towel he dried his fur with as much vigor as he could muster. He knew it was futile; he was just going to get wet again. Sitting on the basin were the black boxers, he felt his ears heat up again. He was being silly; it was these or nothing in the tank. The thought of floating there naked embarrassed him even more. He grabbed the shorts, managing to step into the garment and get them over his knee and settled against his waist.

 

He hopped out of the 'fresher. Jy’lith was standing by the bed waiting for him. “You ready?” the Twi'lek moved closer, putting his arm around his waist and slipping the other across his slightly damp shoulders.

 

“Guess so,” he muttered. It really didn't matter, not like he had a choice.

 

“We don't have far to go.” Jy’lith moved to the door. “Open please.” The door slid open, Vette stood there smiling.

 

“Thanks,” Jy’lith smiled.

 

“No problem honey,” Vette grinned. “It's just a few meters, this way,” she motioned down a hallway to his right. He glanced down the hall and realized he was on a ship. “Just a few steps, 'bout twenty-ish really.”

 

He nodded, leaning heavily on Jy’lith. As they approached the room he heard voices. He paused on the door's threshold; within stood a blue skinned woman and a tall black haired Human. No, he mentally corrected himself; not a Human, he is a Joiner. He looked them over; he knew them. That woman didn't like him but the Joiner did.

 

Jy’lith gently pulled on him, encouraging him to move forward. He looked back over his shoulder, there was no place else for him to go. Swallowing he moved into the room. The Chiss woman moved to stand before him, she actually looked concerned.

 

“Jy’lith, you ran a preliminary scan?”

 

“Yes Agent, I did, the scan results I forwarded to the Chimera's medical computer.”

 

She nodded, “Please lay down on the bed.”

 

Hands shaking he began to limp towards the nearest bed, beside him Jy’lith whispered. “We are going to take care of you, don't be scared.” The Twi'lek helped him onto the bed. Wincing he lay back, setting his hands on his stomach and stared at the ceiling.

 

“I am going to ask you some questions, answer to the best of your ability.”

 

He nodded glancing at the Chiss woman. She studied him for a moment before she turned her attention to the datapad in her hand. He glanced around the room, Vette stood by the door, the Joiner was by the kolto tank doing something to it and Jy’lith was standing next the bed, digging around in his black bag. Reaching out he brushed the man's lekku; Jy’lith gave him a half smile and offered him his hand, which he promptly grabbed.

 

“Are you ready?” the Agent asked.

 

He looked to the woman, her red eyes were locked onto his face. He nodded, giving Jy’lith’s hand a squeeze.

 

“Do you know where you are?” Her attention moved back to her datapad.

 

He shook his head, “No.”

 

“What is the current standard year?”

 

He opened his mouth and closed it; hesitant he started again, “Thirty-six Sixty-one.”

 

Her red eyes jumped up, looking at him, her midnight blue eyebrow twitched. “Where do you live?”

 

He shook his head, “I don't remember.”

 

“What is your name?”

 

He again shook his head, squeezing the Twi'lek's hand. Jy’lith looked down at him, “It's alright, you are doing fine. Trying to figure out what happened.”

 

“Yes,” the Agent agreed, “you are doing well, just a couple more questions and then another scan.”

 

“And then the tank?” his voice was shaking; he gripped the Twi'lek's hand even harder.

 

“Yes then the tank.” She reached out touching his shoulder, “Just a few more and then you will go to sleep. The tank won’t hurt. Now, do you remember anyone in this room?”

 

He nodded, “I do.”

 

“That's good, who? What are their names and if you can tell me how you know them.”

 

He nodded, “The red Twi'lek, he is Jy’lith, I remember he has helped me fix things. I don't remember what things though. The blue Twi'lek is Vette, the two of them are an item. The Joiner is your mate Agent. I don't remember his name or your name Agent.”

 

The Chiss actually smiled at him, it struck him as unusual. “I have never given you my real name.”

 

“You don't like me, I know you don't like me.”

 

The Agent's smile widened, “If I didn't like you I wouldn't be trying to heal you now.”

 

He stared at her, somehow that didn't ring entirely true.

 

“Now,” she continued, “Do you remember where you work?”

 

“No,” he shook his head, “I saw dog tags but I don't remember how I got them, I don't remember the military.”

 

She nodded her hand left his shoulder, returning to her datapad. “Do you remember how you were hurt?”

 

“No, I... don't, I just remember waking up here in pain.”

 

Her fingers flew over the screen, “Your readings were very thorough Jy’lith. We will have to go over the visual feed from the rescue, see if we can determine what else might have happened to him.” She set the datapad down, “We are going to prep you for the tank now.”

 

He squeezed Jy’lith's hand harder, he heard the man grunt in pain.

 

“He's awake,” he heard her voice again, the distraught pale-skinned Sith.

 

He looked to the door; there she stood with the younger woman. She looked horrible, her shadowed eyes sunken into dark sockets. Her red hair disheveled, awkwardly pulled away from her face, her robes hung off of her wrinkled and askew, as if she had been wearing them for days.

 

“He is my Lord, you should be asleep.” The Agent answered from across the room.

 

If she had heard the Chiss she gave no indication, “What has he said? Is he better?”

 

“My Lord, you need your rest, please let me handle this,” the Agent sighed.

 

“No, tell me what is going on.”

 

“He needs to go into the tank.” He glanced towards the Agent's voice she had moved to the tank, making an adjustment on the control panel.

 

“The tank?” the Sith whispered.

 

He pulled his eyes off the slowly draining tank, returning his gaze to the slowly advancing Sith, she was wringing her hands. “Why... why, he is doing better, he is awake.”

 

“My Lord,” the Agent sighed, “he should have been put into this tank thirty-six hours ago. He will be better when he is out, sleeping and recuperating in the tank.”

 

“Will he, will he be better...” the Sith trailed off her hands still fighting each other, her eyes stared at the Chiss silently pleading.

 

“Physically yes, mentally, we don't know.”

 

“Mentally... what do you mean?” the Sith turned her attention to him staring at him lying on the bed, her lower lip beginning to quiver.

 

“My Lord,” the Chiss' patience was wearing thin, he could hear it in her tone. “He is amnesiac, you know this. It's entirely possible it was brought on by his treatment and head trauma. To try to pinpoint the extent of his amnesia, we were working on what he does remember...”

 

“He remembers,” the Sith cut her off, moving closer to the bed.

 

“Yes my Lord, he remembers some.”

 

“What, what does he remember? Does he remember me?” Her hands stopped their eternal battle as they dropped to her sides, her face looked so hopeful. She felt so hopeful.

 

The Chiss glanced back at him, “Do you?”

 

He shook his head no.

 

“But he...” The Sith deflated before his eyes, “He remembers but not me... it's my fault. I wasn't fast enough, I failed again...” Her shoulders shook as tears started dripping down her cheeks. He gripped Jy’lith's hand; he felt his claws dig into the man's fingers. The huge swelling of hope morphed, in a heartbeat, into an oppressive cloud of rage, it crashed down on him, suffocating him. As he stared, the cloud coalesced, before him, turning into a dark red smoking something. It emanated from her; it was thickest around her. He heard Jy’lith yowl in pain as he clenched down on his hand. “I am going to make them pay,” the Sith's voice was ragged. His head began to throb, bright starbursts of white erupted in his vision. And then she crumpled before him, the smoke dissipating as quickly as it formed.

 

She slumped backwards, into the waiting arms of the Joiner. The man picked up her now limp body and laid it on the other medical bed.

 

“No, my Lord, you are not, not today at least.” The Chiss turned and walked to the bed, removing a spent stim from her neck. She looked up at the Joiner, “If she wakes up... displeased, I will deal with the ramifications.”

 

The Joiner looked at her nodding, “Is the tank ready?”

 

“Yes,” The Agent nodded, “let's get him in there.”

 

A sharp biting sting bit his arm. Confused he looked down, Jy’lith was removing a needle, the Twi'lek began counting backwards as he hooked a monitoring device onto his left ring finger. “Five... four … three … two.”

 

He opened his mouth to say something when the world went black.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt: Health with some Discovery.

 

[frauzet]

Well, that went better than expected

Poor Kit though. Love how the agent takes her out.

<3

[Kitar]

I knew I was forgetting to do something today, well yesterday seeing how it is past midnight. Before I head off to bed, have another chapter! It is not very long.

 

@ Frauzet

They are not out of the woods yet... Yes I loved it too, utterly nonchalant about knocking Kit out, one would think she has had to do it before.

 

 

I do not think there are any spoilers.

 

PART II CHAPTER 4

 

 

 

Year 3634 Month 1, two hours after Aric is placed in the tank

THE CHIMERA

 

She stood by the tank, monitoring his vitals. Aric floated before her in a medically induced coma, gently bobbing in the bubbling kolto. She sighed as she shifted her gaze from the readouts to the patient. She had actually pulled back and braided his mane before allowing the men to place him in the partially emptied tank. She watched his eyes twitch above his facemask. For the tenth time in as many minutes she prayed he would stay under, she was already pushing the allowable dosages of sedatives and painkillers. Sighing she checked his readouts again, everything seemed normal, but it was so hard to tell, trying to keep... no she mentally chastised herself that has not been proven yet. No, not yet, but all indicators are pointing to that inevitable truth.

 

Frowning she placed her hand against the transparisteel, this was such a mess. A new respect for the man was growing, the beating he had received was horrible and a really good indicator as to how much he was not talking. She remembered first hand, how … thorough the damn S.I.S. could be when they were 'talking' to you. They had not been holding back, they were going to kill the Cathar. They might still succeed, how he had managed to hold himself upright amazed her. Aside from his multiple broken bones, devastated knee and fractured face, he was suffering from internal bleeding. But he was now in the tank, beginning his recovery; she was going to do everything in her power to assure the stubborn furrball's survival, she had yet to actually lose a real patient, she wasn’t going to start with his aggravating tail. Preliminary data showed he would have to be floating in there for at least a month, but if her sinking suspicion was correct that time would be shortened.

 

“Agent,” Vector's voice brought with it the delightful smell of caf. Reaching out she grasped the warm mug from his offering hand. How she loved this stuff, one of the best reasons to venture outside the Ascendancy. “Something is troubling you.”

 

“Yes,” she leaned back into the Joiner, his arms wrapping around her waist as she settled against his chest.

 

“This is... a game changer, I don't like it.” She gestured to the tank with her free hand, before wrapping it around the mug and bringing the steaming liquid to her lips.

 

“Yes, it is quite unexpected, we were rather surprised.”

 

“I don't like surprises of this nature, I was so very thorough when I checked his background. To have this happen is, well to be quite frank it's bizarre.” She took another cautious ship off the mug. “Tell me what do you see, when you look at him?”

 

Vector shifted resting his chin against her shoulder, “It is discord; before it was saffron and smoke, a steady dance of fire and ice, but now it is wild, erratic electricity, uncertain, pitch-clouded and it is fighting against some... thing.”

 

She frowned into her mug, “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

 

Vector shook his head, “No Agent we have not, and the Nest has no knowledge of such a thing happening. It is most unexpected.”

 

“It is definitely unexpected, I just don't understand why it was not mentioned anywhere. Nowhere in any of the medical or personal files I came across was it mentioned. I even managed to get a hold of his school transcripts, not a single hint.” She frowned as she watched the Cathar float in the tank. “Why didn't you ever say anything?”

 

“Perhaps he did not know.”

 

“I have considered that, it is a possibility, but in this day and age, everyone is tested. Everyone. At his age, it just doesn’t show up.” She dropped a hand laying it atop Vector’s wrapped arms. “I hate it when the unknowns outweigh the known, it gives me a headache.”

 

“You do have your suspicions, though.”

 

“Yes, I do,” she smiled at his reflection, “I am currently running a search on year thirty-six sixty-one, was a very precise date for someone living in a fog. Something very significant happened that year. “

 

“Something traumatic?”

 

“Perhaps, he was ten that year. There is more to this, something or somethings very significant, happened that year.” She caressed Vector's arm as she contemplated Aric's floating form.

 

“Agent?” Victor was nearly whispering.

 

“Yes?” she tilted her head back.

 

“Do you think he even knows, we do not believe he is aware.”

 

“No, I don’t think he has any idea. The others though, they are thoroughly weirded out. Jy’lith is currently sleeping in the crew's barracks; I do think he sedated himself. Vette seems more worried what will happen when Aric is out of the tank and awake.”

 

“And Jaesa?”

 

“Jaesa, is worried, she cannot read him, every attempt is blocked by something very similar to what you described, 'A black ever-shifting wall', is what she called it.” She shifted slightly in his arms, glancing over her shoulder to the slumbering Sith in the medical bed, “If we are going to discuss this we should leave, I would rather not wake her. I really don't want to say anything that might upset him while he is in that tank either, just to be on the safe side.”

 

“Understood Agent,” Vector dropped his arms as they turned to walk out of the medical bay. “Agent we do hate to ask, but his aura is so distorted that we must. When he was lying on the bed being prepared for the tank, did we really see lightning?”

 

She stopped as they crossed over the threshold, glancing back at Aric floating amongst the gently peculating bubbles, “Yes Vector, you did.”

 

 

 

AN

Prompt on this one was Behind the Scenes

 

[Iheaca]

Done with the first page (chapter 10). I still have a long way to go, I know, but I need to find time for a thousand other things including work and my own writing, so reading takes time.

I must say that from what I had seen so far in the game (first levels of the trooper only and KOTFE/KOTET with Nyx) I did not really like Jorgan. But what happens to him in your story is just unbearable. But what the hell is she? How much of evil can she do? Seriously! I am sure that she is the type who stripped living flies from their wings when she was a kid.

I am looking forward to know more about all this and hope that Jorgan will kick her arse properly at one point in time. And before he gets completely broken, please!

The other part of the story is obviously nicer. I like the mando'an sith and the kids. :-)

[Kitar]

Posting early due to it being the 4th tomorrow. Hope everyone has a great day.

 

@ Iheaca

I completely understand, thanks for taking the time to read and to comment. I actually like Jorgan believe it or not, quite a bit actually.

 

She is pretty horrible. A few of the things I had written in were early on DS choices you could make. She kind of evolved from there. I can see her pulling the wings off critters too, wait until you hear what she did to her sister...

I checked ahead, there is a light to the end of the tunnel, I believe you are close to point Elara joins the crew.

 

Aww the kiddos, I love those two. Kiernan shows up more often in this story, his brother Ka'van actually plays a larger role in two other stories, one penned by my friend. Alaurin wrote Deception in the Ranks: The Fallout of Operation Landslide, which features Ka'van. Later we decided to continue the story, with Unforeseen Complications, which we co-author. I was bad and never put it into the index and I never bothered to put either one into my signature.

I'm also glad you like that Mando Sith, you will be seeing her again as well.

 

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 5

 

 

Timeline: After he was dropped into the tank.....

 

[uNKNOWN]

 

He groaned. Shifting he tried to wake up, to move, it felt as if a bantha was sitting on his chest, it was so hard to breath. Willing his eyes to open he stared at the dark void before him. Everything was the same, a large expanse of black nothing. It sat upon him, pinning him in place, preventing him from taking a deep lung-full of air. Growling he twitched his fingers; gathering up the will to fight it.

 

“Wouldn't do that to much if I were you, but thankfully I am not.” A voice materialized out of the void, surrounding him from every direction and yet it was nowhere.

 

“What..?” His voice was raw, distorted and it hurt to speak.

 

The voice laughed, “You really don't know do you? Interesting.” Before him the void began to move, shifting, slowly it coalesced, taking on a hauntingly familiar form. Tattered black robes draped over it from head to toe, a blood red light emanated from its drawn hood. Fingers, that were nothing more than smoke made material, lowered the black hood, revealing a smoky red face. As he stared the burning embers became yellow eyes, set below brows edged in bony ridges. It's oval face slowly took shape, bald head graced with two small cranial horns, bony ridges along it's, no, his cheeks were decorated with gold jewelry. The being reached up to stroke a chin tentacle with red-tinged smoky three fingered hands, “So very interesting, but I would stop that.”

 

“Stop what?” He growled he wasn't in the mood for games.

 

The smoky man chuckled, “Pity, games can be so much fun, a good way to pass the time. I have all the time in the galaxy, but sadly yours is very short.”

 

He growled, “What are you talking about?” He clenched his hands, fighting to move.

 

The smoky form dropped his hand shaking his head, “I really would stop that. Don't have time for distractions.”

 

“Why,” he snarled, “why can't I?”

 

The smoky being shrugged, “Well you can but you won't like the results.” He waved a corporeal hand at him, “Continue if you must, thought you were smarter than that, apparently I was wrong. Just an overly aggressive alien.” The smoky being crossed his arms across his chest, turning on a booted sole. He took a step away, his form started to grow blurry, tendrils of smoke drifting off becoming, once again, one with the nothing surrounding them.

 

“Wait.” He made his clenched hands relax. “Wait.”

 

The form before him solidified as it slowly turned back around. He stared at him, his bright yellow eyes burning. He took another step closer, his form further condensing, the red-tinged smoke becoming dark red skin. “It's difficult to get a hold of you Jen'jidai.”

 

He shook his head, “What are you talking about?” He had heard that before, he didn't like it, the word grated against him.

 

“Tried to wake you before, temptation to great to pass up. Though I didn't appreciate that up-jumped slave's redheaded whelp sinking my ship.” He scowled, flashing pointed white teeth. “That was most inconvenient Jen'jidai.”

 

He shook his head, “I am not.”

 

The scowl deepened. “Denying it will not make it go away Jen'jidai.”

 

“No, I am not,” he shook his head staring at the man before him. He was so close he could almost reach out and touch him. “But you, you are.” He studied the being's smoky red-skinned face, his bony ridges and tentacles.

 

The man laughed, it rolled around the nothingness surrounding them. “I am Sith one of Pureblood. Jen'jidai, you have… potential if you only wake up. You will be.”

 

“I am not.” He shook his head, “No it's not possible.”

 

The Sith shook his head, “I already showed you the truth. That redheaded whelp; would be enough to bring out the passions in anyone. My blood was definitely up when we dueled, had I still a pulse...” a lecherous grin crept across the Sith's face.

 

His visibly shook, “Don't talk about her like that!” The Sith laughed only raising his ire further. His fingers twitched as yellow sparked around him, filling the space between them with golden lightning.

 

The Sith' s laughter grew, “Most interesting, tell me why so angry. Who is she?”

 

He opened his mouth only to snap it shut. Growling he stared at the Sith, he knew her but it was slipping away, hiding within the nothing surrounding them. “She is important to me.”

 

“Yes she is do you remember why?”

 

Shaking his head he frowned, “I, I don't... She is, she, I...”

 

“You love her, the redheaded Sith. Such a worthless soul-trapping emotion, makes you weak, vulnerable. But exploitable.”

 

He stared at the Sith, his anger and confusion growing, she wasn't using him, he knew she wasn't.

 

“You will see, it will push you further Jen'jidai. It will be enough. It was a great disappointment our first conversation was not the catalyst. Then I realized something else is restraining you. But it is broken, fractured really. It is the source of your pain, embrace that pain, let it fuel you to break the chains imposed on you.”

 

The Sith looked away off into the distance, “Pity,” he frowned, “they saw your little light show.” The Sith scowled, “Our time is growing short. They are nosy; looking, prodding. I won't let them see. You must remember this, only in remembering you get your life back.”

 

“I don't understand...”

 

The Sith snarled, cutting him off, “You won't understand unless you listen, you must remember what I said. You want your life back, remember what you are, what you were meant to be Jen'jidai!” The Sith advanced on him lightning gathering in his three fingered hands.

 

“Why should I?” He snarled, “Why should I listen to you...”

 

“This is greater than you, greater than me, I will not have my time ripped away,” the Sith howled. “You will remember!”

 

The force of the Sith's words blew against him. “I will try...”

 

“NO!” The Sith thundered, “You will remember, there is no try! When you summon your own, you will remember.” With that the Sith shoved his hands outward, they slammed into his chest. He swallowed a howl when the violet lightning coursed over his chest. “Remember!” the Sith yelled as he sent another round of lightning over his torso.

 

He saw the air grow gold; he wasn't going to let the damn Sith do it again. Growling he drew on it he felt it gather along his shoulders, it grew sliding down his arms, sparking into lightning in his palms. He stared at it eyes wide, “How...” He felt it, a subtle spiking pulling at him causing to look up, the Sith was releasing another round towards him. “Noo!” he roared, he pushed the gathered lightning towards the Sith. It clashed against the Sith's, flaring brightly before it disappeared.

 

“Goood...” the Sith chuckled, “remember.” His form began to soften, slowly unraveling drifting apart as the smoky tendrils were absorbed into the surrounding blackness.

 

He felt the heavy weight return, it was pulling him down deeper into the inky void, he struggled, trying to resist but it was fruitless, his arms grew heavy, it spread through the rest of his body pulling him down into the darkness.

 

 

AN

Prompt was Dreams and Nightmares if I remember correctly.

Jen'jidai is Sith for Dark Jedi.

 

[Kitar]

Posting early again because I can!

 

Spoilers, none I can think of.

 

PART II CHAPTER 6

 

 

Year 3634

THE CHIMERA

 

He groaned, shifting. Blinking he opened his eyes. The room was dimly lit, a blurry dark outline of vague shapes; his eyes refused to focus. Bringing his hand up he rubbed his face. He felt something attached to his index finger. Blinking again he tried to focus on the foreign object, he could barely make out the blurred square shape affixed to his finger. Sighing he rested his hand on top of his head. Slowly he moved his other hand against his bare body, he was covered in something, it felt like a blanket. He moved his hand up towards his head, sliding it through his fur, he stopped letting it rest on his chest.

 

Licking parched lips he listened, it was still, the silence broken only by a soft bubbling. Rubbing his face again he cracked open his eye, furiously blinking he tried to look around. He was in a room of some kind. He turned his head towards the bubbling noise. A large kolto tank was the source of the soft sound; the tank’s blue backlit liquid the room's only light source. It bathed everything in a soft blue glow.

 

Blinking he focused on the tank, as he watched the bubbles float taking their slow meandering path from the bottom to the top, his eyes lost their fuzzy blurred edge, everything came into focus. Looking around he realized he was in the medical bay. At first glance he thought the other bed looked disheveled and it struck him as odd. It was always as neat as a pin in here. As he stared he realized someone was asleep in the bed.

 

The slumbering form shifted. As he watched they moved pushing back their blanket. Bare-feet swung over the edge of the medical bed, pale shapely legs emerged. He followed the bare legs upward. They peeked out from underneath a dark, baggy, rumpled, sleep shirt. He watched, a slow smile creeping across his lips as the figure pushed red hair out of a vaguely familiar face. She landed on the durasteel floor with a barely audible thump. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she slowly walked closer.

 

“Hey,” she whispered.

 

“Hey,” he answered.

 

“I thought I felt you wake up, how are you feeling?”

 

He shifted slightly on the bed to look at her. “Stiff, my throat hurts, it's dry and my head aches.”

 

She stopped by the edge of the bed. “I can get you some water, don't know about any painkillers. I can ask, do you need some?”

 

“Water sounds good, I'll pass on the drugs.”

 

She flashed him a smile, “I will be right back.” She turned and slipped out of the room, he heard her soft footsteps retreat down the ship's interior.

 

Shifting his head he resumed watching the bubbles gently cycling through the tank. The ship had to be asleep he didn't even hear the mouse droid patrolling. Her return was so quiet he practically jumped when she spoke.

 

“I bet you are happy to be out of there.”

 

He looked at her she was standing next to the bed holding a glass of water. “How long was I in there?”

 

She stepped closer, her hand hovering by his shoulder. “Do you want help sitting up? I couldn't find a straw.” He nodded. Her hand slipped behind his back as he grunted sitting up in the bed. His body protested being moved. “La.... Our agent friend said that will pass, as you move, your body will limber back up, it's just stiff from being unused for so long.”

 

“You didn't answer, how long was I in there?”

 

Her hand slid down his back settling around his hip. He leaned against her arm, tired hands gripping the glass. She helped him bring the glass to his lips. Oh it tasted so good, the salty pervasive taste in his mouth lessened as moisture returned. Tilting his head back he finished the glass, wiping his chin he looked to the redhead. She took the glass away and helped him lay back down. She ran her hand down his shoulder before dropping it at her side.

 

“You were in there for half a month.” She turned setting the empty glass on the near by desk.

 

“Three and a half weeks?” he stared at the tank.

 

“Well three weeks, but you have been asleep for two days.” She glanced at the door. “I really should go and wake the Agent. She will want to know you are awake.”

 

“No,” he shook his head. “I am not up to talking to her, I am so tired.”

 

“I think that is due to the drugs. She had a very hard time keeping you under.” She shifted on her feet looking him over. “Do you want to go back to sleep? I can go so I don't disturb you.”

 

“No,” he looked past her to the crumpled bed. “You have been staying in here haven't you?”

 

She nodded biting her lip, her hands fidgeted at her sides before she suddenly stilled them. “Yes, I haven't left except to shower, after you were placed in there.”

 

He nodded, that would explain why the medical bay looked so lived in.

 

She cautiously reached out touching his arm. “I was told not to ask you questions.”

 

He looked at her as his brow rose, “But...”

 

She smiled, her mouth opened slightly before closing. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes opening them when she exhaled. “Do you remember who I am?”

 

He stared at her, trying to scrounge up her name, but nothing came to him, he could not remember. “No, I don't.” She stiffened before him; he reached out grabbing her hand. “But you are very familiar to me, I just can't place it.”

 

“Really?” She smiled, “That, that's an improvement.”

 

He gave her a small smile, ignoring the dull throbbing growing in his head. “I still don't remember my own name, but I do recall this is the Medical Bay on the Chimera, your starfighter.”

 

Her smile grew even larger, “Really?” She looked back out the door. “I really should go get her. She should know this.” The redhead moved towards the door.

 

He tightened his grip, “Don't go, the Agent can wait.” Gently he pulled on her hand. “Come here.”

 

She hesitated, “You don't know who I am, I'm not sure...”

 

He pulled harder on her hand interrupting her, “I remember enough, I know you, I just don't remember how, but I know you are close to me somehow. Your familiar. Come here.”

 

She smiled brightly and put her knee on the bed. She maneuvered so she was against the wall. Cautiously she slipped under the blanket. He reached out his arm, she scooted closer laying her head on his chest.

 

“Are you sure?” She looked up at him.

 

He nodded, “Positive,” He shifted his weight adjusting his arm around her. Her hand slowly ventured across his chest settling across his side, her fingers buried in his fur. He tilted his head, burying his nose in her loose dark auburn locks, the scents of herbs and ozone drifted to him, it hovered on the edge of identification but it was so comforting. He brought his right hand up, running it along her arm, letting it rest on her shoulder. Closing his eyes he listened to the sound of her breathing as he drifted asleep.

 

 

[Kitar]

Happy hump day!

I feel as though I should put some kind of warning on this one, might be safe to cover my bases. I'll say for non-consensual contact. I don't know if it warrants it, but I would rather be safe than sorry.

 

PART II CHAPTER 7

 

 

 

Year 3634 Runs concurrently with CHAPTER 3 roughly 4 weeks ago

 

SOMEWHERE ON NAL HUTTA...

 

The constant drone of the loudspeakers was barely audible, drowned out by the cheering and yelling in the stands. His eyes nervously glanced around studying the gathered crowd, weighing the gravity of the situation. There were immaculately dressed aliens standing alongside filthy rag tagged Humans, armored mercenaries talking in hushed tones to robed and hooded figures. No one stood out, no one drew attention to themselves; every motion, every shrug, quiet, subdued, a slight ripple in the shadow of a thousand insignificant whispers.

 

Rough hands shoved him along; he stumbled catching himself before he fell. The hands shoved him again. He tripped on the uneven ground and fell into a young boy. A Twi’lek. A grimy filthy rag dressed Twi’lek. A slave. Wide eyed the boy up stared at him and backed away bumping into the person in front of him. The aged Human gently caught the boy; she whispered something into his ear. The boy nodded and huddled next to her. She looked back at him her eyes filled with hatred but she smiled, a cruel mocking smile. She turned her back to him; arm protectively draped around the scared boy.

 

Standing he dusted himself off, his hands unconsciously smoothing his torn uniform. Hands shoved him again, he moved behind the elderly woman. He moved into the line. He kept his head held high. This was a mistake. It had to be, his service had been exemplary the past five years he had given her no reason to doubt him or his loyalty. He was supposed to be transferred, he had agreed.

 

He felt the eyes burning into his back. He held his head high refusing to look behind him. He felt others move into the line, but those eyes still burned. He could still feel the smirk, the confident aura of self-righteousness, the condemning laughter.

 

Slowly the line shuffled along, moving deeper into the crowd, drawing closer to the stands and the droning hum of the loudspeaker. As the line slowly advanced the buzzing began to break down, simplify into numbers. Numbers. No, no he shook his head; he pushed the buzzing voice away, refusing to listen. This was not right, it couldn’t be.

 

The line continued to shuffle endlessly forward. Head held straight ahead, he glanced to either side. Armed guards were staring at the slow moving procession, smacking, punching and kicking anyone who moved too slowly, who looked at them directly. Slowly he followed, hands clenched at his sides, distracting him from the pounding in his chest, the tremble that had begun to trickle down his body.

 

Ahead men armed with stun sticks were shoving people, orders barked in different languages. Rough hands grabbed him from behind; his arms were twisted behind his back, his wrists bent backwards. Pain shot through his arms, he swallowed a yelp, jaw clenched shut. He was pushed, shoved forward, pulled out of the line to the side. The humanoids here were all being forcibly restrained. Some were fighting trying to free themselves, ignoring the barked orders from the slave handlers. He was shoved to his knees, the twisted vice on his arms remained as his boots were yanked off.

 

Next to him a Mirialan male screamed, he lunged forward biting the handler restraining him. He stared; the male was young maybe sixteen standard years. The boy's handler froze, waiting. What was the handler waiting for? Behind him the vice grip on one of his arms loosened, he watched as the huge Zabrak that been restraining him leaned over and stabbed a stim into the alien. The boy relaxed in his handler's grip, his arms dropping to his sides. He stared at the boy, it slowly filtered through his mind how attractive the boy was, dark green skin, even darker black hair, violet eyes, his face held all the right angles, high cheekbones, strong jaw, full lips. The boy’s body barely had any scars, it was trim, muscular, boarder-line too thin. The boy’s handler growled at him but did not hit him. Instead he removed his shirt.

 

Swallowing hard he watched them strip the boy, manhandle him as they dressed him. Dressed him, what they put on him barely constituted clothing. A handkerchief would have covered more, it was barely a loincloth, it hardly covered his modesty, his rear was on display for everyone to see. On display. He felt his stomach twist, the warm acidic rush of bile flooding his mouth. Swallowing his stomachs meager contents he watched as they attached a number to the armband on the boy’s left arm and shackled his ankles together.

 

Scanning the humanoids around him he realized they were all being submitted to the same treatment. Every being he looked at was attractive, no, beautiful. Trembling he stared at the boy next to him, but he stood there numbly staring at the ground, sedated. He didn’t even move when they bolted a thick collar with a long chain leash around his neck.

 

No, No, NO, his mind screamed, this is NOT right, I agreed to a transfer! The buzzing counting resumed, he heard the numbers steadily increase and then the voice shouted a winner, resetting the counting and the cheering. He couldn’t… this couldn’t… frantically he searched around him looking for any exit, any means of escape.

 

“Now I would not do that if I were you. I was told you were smart.” The voice hissed in his ear, hands grabbed his raven hair pulling his head to the side. The dark brown tattooed skin of the Zabrak’s face appeared before him. He was grinning.

 

“There are ways to hurt you that won’t mar that pretty skin of yours. You don’t want me to hurt you do you,” the voice hissed. Swallowing he attempted to shake his head no. “That’s what I thought,” the hissing turned into low laughter.

 

“Let me see him,” his eyes latched onto the source. It was a woman, another Zabrak, tall thin with adorned horns poking out of her long mane of chestnut hair. Expensive silk covered her body; jewels sparkled along her fingers. The handler moved out of the way releasing his head and jerking him to his feet.

 

“Yes Ma’dam,” the hissing laughter returned.

 

She stared at him, “His face is attractive, I bet he’s older than he looks, though his hair is untouched by grey. What about the rest of him.” The handler gripped the front of his uniform, ripping the jacket open. He gasped, trying to cover himself. Behind him the man grabbed his arms and twisted as another handler moved in to finish ripping the uniform jacket off of him. Bile again flooded his mouth, warm acid against his tongue.

 

An aggravated sigh escaped the woman’s lips, “I want to see him already.” The hand clamped down on his hair gripping pulling it as the remains of his jacket and then his undershirt were stripped away. “All of him.” Hands grabbed his hips, restraining him. Another set of hands began to unbutton his uniform pants, as his arms were re-twisted behind his back. He stared up at the ceiling, at the bare lights, focusing on a slow moving fan as it made wobbling circles through the smoky air.

 

His bare skin pr.i.c.kled and froze as the air blew against him, he struggled to free his hands to cover himself. His hands were pulled up tighter against his back, the twisting vice sending tremors through the aching joints.

 

No, he squeezed his eyes shut, this could not be happening to him. Perfume drifted past his face. He flinched as fingers touched him; they slid down his chest, examining him.

 

This isn’t really happening, it’s a nightmare I will wake up, he told himself. Fingers continued to poke and prod. They slid over his bare body, tracing faded scars, trailing over the faded saber burn, running over his stomach down between his legs, lingering, caressing before continuing over his backside. His stomach twisted, bile again filling his mouth. Warmth pressed behind his clenched eyes when he heard her murmurs of approval.

 

He swallowed a cry when a hand smacked his bare a*s but a tear escaped his tightly clenched eyes. “I’m definitely interested, he would be a good earner. What do his sale papers state?”

 

He knees grew weak, legs caving under him; he fell hanging by his restrained hands.

 

“They are in Mando’a Ma’dam, afraid I can’t read it.”

 

Laughter, the woman was laughing. “Priceless, apparently the officer here double-crossed a Sith Lord. What’s your name aruetii?”

 

“He’s not spoken a word, think he is in a bit of a shocked state considering his new status in life.”

 

“Does not matter, slaves don’t have names anyway.”

 

The hands hauled him to his feet again; rough fingers pried his jaws apart. He heard another hum of approval. “She wants to see your eyes open them up.” More warmth pushed against his eyelids. “I’d open them if I were you,” his arm was wrenched tighter against his back, renewing the arcing tremors of pain through the abused limb. As he opened his eyes, tears dripped down his cheeks.

 

She took no notice, instead she stared, “Good, blue, I like blue. Get him dressed, throw him in there with the green one, they will fetch a higher price if they are auctioned off together.”

 

Rough hands pushed and pulled on him as they dressed him, but it did not register, he barely felt it, it was as if it was happening to someone else. The metal they bolted to his body was cold, so cold. His neck ached from the heavy pressure of the shock collar, the second collar was looser but encircled his throat, the chain thick, heavy. His ankles were shackled. His arms were finally released, he immediately covered himself, his hands covered him better than the wisps of silk and metal they called clothing did.

 

Laughter floated to him, the woman was laughing at him. “Oh his new owners are going to love him, getting to break him of that modesty.”

 

The chain around his throat moved, pressure pulled on his neck. Numbly he moved forward, led down the line and into the stadium. Hands reached out to touch him as he passed; comments muttered, numbers mentioned.

 

He was hauled up the stairs onto the raised dais in the middle of the stadium, beside him the young Mirialan man stood. Their leashes attached to a heavy metal ring sunk into the floor. He stared at it; he still didn’t understand why this was happening. “Hey, psst hey,” the whisper sunk into his haze addled brain. Glancing around he noticed the boy next to him trying to get his attention. “Don’t show them you are scared, they will use it against you. Stare ahead at nothing, keep your hands at your sides at all times, don’t give them a reaction when they touch you.” Nodding he raised his head, forced his hands to unclasp and hang at his sides.

 

Everything became quiet; the voice over the loudspeaker began to talk, describing them to the bidders. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, standing as still as possible as he willed his eyes to un-focus to stare through the crowd, to let everything become a haze. The speaker’s voice grew louder denying all attempts at blocking it out; he was selling them as a pair. The voice grew louder as the bidding began, the number kept climbing, a bidding war erupted over the two of them. The number so incredibly high, this had to be a dream who would pay that much for a, his mind tripped on the thought, he sobbed, for a slave. A heavy thud rang out; there was a winner.

 

His eyes snapped to the winner, a small petite woman escorted by two very large Nikto bodyguards. Next to him the boy breathed a quiet sigh, “She owns a pleasure house, I have heard of her, she treats her slaves well.” He stared at the woman, shaking, he watched as she moved to the podium and handed the auctioneer cred sticks. The auctioneer quickly divided the payment between the two men on his left, a tall thin Nautolian and a huge Human. The men all shook hands and handed their ownership papers to the woman. Shaking he stared at the large man, the man pocketed the huge stack of cred sticks, a massive smile on his face.

 

Once long ago the man threatened to kill him, now he wished he had. The Lieutenant continued to stare at him smiling, no he reminded himself, Captain, he had been promoted. A gentle pressure on his neck brought his attention back to the floor. One of her bodyguards held his leash and was gently pulling him and the boy down the steps, the last thing he heard as he was drug out of the stadium was Pierce’s laughter.

 

 

 

 

AN

aruetii is Mando'a for traitor

Prompt was Cleaning House

 

Edited July 13, 2018 by Kitar

[Kitar]

Hey everyone, this one this week is on the short side.

 

Spoilers:

References a rank the SW companion can obtain

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 8

 

 

Timeline immediately following previous prompt

 

SOMEWHERE ON NAL HUTTA

 

They were led to a small holding room under the stadium. His heavy chain leash was hooked to a ring in the wall. When the door locked he lost the ability to stand, his legs buckled underneath him. He slid against the wall, crumpling into the corner. Shivering he pulled his legs up to his bare chest burying his head in his knees. He was so cold.

 

Part of his mind was working, running trying to inform him, command him to move. But he couldn’t, he slumped further into the corner. Muted whispers penetrated his haze.

 

“Actually he’s Imperial, I overhead them talking when we being examined.” It was the boy he was taken on stage with. “Some kind of officer I heard.”

 

Some kind, he shuddered, he was a Captain, Second Grade.

 

“Really someone must really hate him,” it was an older voice feminine. “What he’d do to end up on the block?”

 

“Betrayed a Sith Lord.”

 

“Damn,” she whistled, “that took some nerve, how’d he do it?”

 

Clinking echoed in the small room, “no idea didn’t explain it.”

 

The room quieted, a soft clinking filled his ears. His chains were clinking together. He tried to stop shaking by tightening his grip across his bare legs; he failed. He failed. He had served with distinction for twenty years and now… what had he done? He had worked tirelessly to make amends after his one transgression, to prove to her his worth. He had kept her secrets, guarded them. He never told a soul about her children. He had swallowed his pride withdrew even further from the crew and worked.

 

Her children, he sobbed, she had three confirmed there was rumors of a fourth. Twins with the Black Ops reject, the third, the third was a Jedi Knight on Tython. He had lied to the Hand about that son, to everyone else about the twins, they had no children, he had fathered no children. The sympathetic looks as they nodded and excused themselves from his presence. He knew his wife had other lovers she had not touched him in years.

 

Icy fingers crawled along his back, other lovers. His mind flashed back to that night, that one night. She had exploded onto the ship, running for the medical bay to search for kolto, frantic. Behind her the Lieutenant stumbled up the ramp carrying a comatose body, Jaesa helping the man keep himself upright as he carried his heavy load. Vette was off the ship talking in fast frantic speech to someone.

 

He had met them in the medical bay, they had been in a massive firefight, the commando was limping as he carried the male in his arms and placed him on a medical bed. He had moved to treat the man and froze; the face that greeted him was infamous. He stared at the crew dumbfounded, what the hell had they been up to, had they lost their collective minds?

 

He was looking down at a Cathar, not just any Cathar but a member of Havoc, his face was cut, swollen, blood dripped down his face all over his clothing, his breath was coming in ragged short bursts. “What are you waiting for, get to work!” She snapped. She hovered near his head whispering to him. Whispering to him, to her new lover. How could he of been so blind.

 

He had refused to treat him, doing the bare minimum so the illusion of treatment existed, he had focused instead on the Lieutenant putting him in the kolto tank the Cathar’s ravaged body so desperately needed. He had broken his word to her; he had betrayed her. Again. His first act had him teetering on a delicate precipice, one he desperately tried to slide to his favor, but he had done this. He had promised to never again betray or hurt those she loved; she loved that beast. One selfish thoughtless act had shoved him down a slippery slope erasing twenty years of service, forty years of life in the Empire, six and a half years of marriage, one and a half of those real years, and now it was gone, he was nothing.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt Do the Math...

 

[frauzet]

Ohoh

The previous chapter had me wondering whether Pierce had made a decision of his own, without Kit's agreement, because I couldn't see her doing this.

Now I think you shouldn't tempt her when she's half out of her mind over a loved one.

She is Sith after all.

Still, nobody deserves such a treatment, and so I am wondering if she'll regret the decision. Especially since Aric certainly wouldn't approve.

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet I will put my answer to you at the bottom of the posting this time

 

K, Posting early again, heading out of town to visit more relatives I love summer.

 

PART II CHAPTER 9

 

 

 

Year 3634 Month 1 (almost Month 2) three and a half weeks after being put in the tank, morning after he wakes up

 

THE CHIMERA

 

Slowly she stirred. Smiling she looked up, curled up next to her was Aric, soundly sleeping on his left side, facing her. Reaching out she ran her fingers over his side; he shifted under her touch. She moved her hand up his side gently parting his fur as her fingers reached his shoulder. He growled moving his arm as his eye cracked open.

 

“Morning,” she whispered.

 

Aric's eyes blinked before opening fully. He looked down at her giving her a half smile, those foreign blue and violet eyes glowing. “Morning,” he rumbled, his voice sounded so rough.

 

Her fingers slipped around his shoulder gently rubbing. “How are you feeling?”

 

He knuckle-rubbed his eye. “Still stiff, and my head still hurts, but I am better.” He pushed his mane out of his face; those blue eyes stared at her. “It's nice waking up and not being in so much pain.”

 

She smiled, “Yes, those tanks are pretty miraculous that way.”

 

“You have been in one before?”

 

She kept the smile on her face and her emotions calm. The only time she had been in the tank was after Aric had killed the Terentatek and he didn't remember. They still had no idea the extent of his memory loss. “Yes, I have, I was in for a week. I was pretty happy to get out and after a couple days I felt as good as new.”

 

He smiled, “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” she returned his smile.

 

“So this will get better?”

 

“It will, we need to get you moving, once I started training again I felt better. In fact our loving Agent has a schedule for you.”

 

He snorted, “Loving... that woman can't stand me.”

 

“No that's not entirely true, she just thought the two of us was a very bad idea, she can be a bit...”

 

“Condescending and cold,” he interrupted.

 

“She can be a bit overprotective,” she finished.

 

Aric snorted.

 

“I am serious, once you earn her respect she is... she is loyal, steadfast and a good ally.”

 

He looked at her; brow arched and frowning.

 

“If she hated you, she would not be here helping. I... I currently don't have a medic on staff and when she heard what happened, she insisted that she help.”

 

“Really?” He propped his body up on his elbow, “she came here to help me?”

 

Kit just nodded, fighting to keep everything under control; she could not get upset. She was under direct orders not to upset him. He seemed to be extremely responsive to her emotional state. She had to keep her emotions under control to avoid agitating him; she wasn't prepared to deal with what happened when he got upset. They still didn't know the extent of his memory loss, they needed to gauge it before they could address any of the other issues; particularly the one that happened when he became emotional. Swallowing she took a deep calming breath. “Really.”

 

His brow furrowed, “Are you alright?”

 

Inwardly she cursed, she should have woken the Agent. She knew staying with him was a mistake. “Yes, I am, this has all been very exhausting, I am alright.”

 

He shook his head, “No, your not, your upset. It's my fault, because I can't remember.” He pushed his body up further on his arm. She felt the air around them spark. “I know it upsets you. I don't know what happened, I don't. I can't...” the air pulsed again.

 

She sat up resting her hand on his shoulder, “It's not your fault, you didn't do anything.” She needed to keep him calm; if he realized what he could do before he regained his memory it could be disastrous.

 

“But I...”

 

“No.” She interrupted him, “don't blame yourself, don't. None of this was your fault. We are here to help you, all of us, the Agent is a great medic, she will be able to help you.” The charge in the air lessened, as his brow smoothed. “She is here to help, we will be able to get to the bottom of this.”

 

“She wants to help me?”

 

“She does, we all do.”

 

“Why, why does she want to help me?” He shook his head. Pushing his wayward mane out of his face he stared at her confused.

 

She caught her hand, stopping it as it started to unconsciously move to tuck a stray lock behind his ear. “Well, believe it or not she respects you.”

 

He snorted.

 

“It's true,” she does, “you impressed her.”

 

He stared at her, she tried to keep her face neutral, refusing to let the sadness she felt surface as she matched that sapphire gaze. “I impressed her?”

 

She nodded, “You did.”

 

“But, I don't understand,” he paused sitting upright fully. “She hates me, doesn't she? I remember her, she doesn't like me.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “she was just very concerned and when she realized she had misjudged you she wasn't very happy, it's hard for her to admit being wrong.”

 

“Oh,” he dropped his eyes, “I didn't realize.”

 

“It's alright really. It's part of why she came, it's her way to apologise.”

 

“Without actually apologising.”

 

She smiled, “exactly.”

 

“So what happens now?”

 

“Well she is going to want to talk to you now that you are awake.” She pulled her eyes away from his face, turning her attention to the rest of the ship. Everything was quiet, a slumbering calm still blanketed the ship. “It feels like everyone is still asleep, we can get something to eat. Then you can shower.”

 

“A shower does sound good, I feel really gritty.” A low gurgling noise filled the air, he flashed her a small smile as he dropped his eyes, “Food sounds good too.”

 

“Come on,” she scooted towards the edge of the bed. She slipped off the bed feet hitting the cool durasteel floor. Looking behind her she paused, he was still sitting on the bed. “What's the matter?”

 

“I... I can't go to the galley like this.”

 

“Like what,” she stared at him perplexed.

 

“Like this,” he gestured towards his bare chest. “I don't have any clothes, I'm in my underwear.”

 

“So? You have gotten food before in your boxers, the crew is pretty relaxed, undergarments don't phase us.”

 

He shook his head, “I can't.” He clutched the blanket to his chest.

 

She took a deep breath, he had never been so modest before, it was probably some side affect from his amnesia. “Well wrap the blanket around you, after we eat I will get you a change of clothes.”

 

He hesitated, “are you sure?”

 

She cocked her head looking at him, it was almost as if he was asking permission. “Of course.”

 

He nodded grabbing the blanket as he slipped off the bed. She waited while he draped it over his shoulders, wrapping it around his body. She smiled to him and slipped out of the med bay heading to the galley.

 

“Why does the Agent want to see me?”

 

“She will want to see what you remember, if there is anything new that you might remember. If you are up to it I know she wants to go over the armor cam feed from when we rescued you.”

 

“Rescued,” he whispered. She watched his eyes drop to the visible hand that was clutching his blanket; the fur on his now healed wrists still stubbornly refused to grow, there had been some talk that it might not grow back. They walked in silence towards the galley. “That's why I was in cuffs.”

 

“Yes.” She bit her lip as they walked, willing the distance to shorten, there was no way she could keep calm and talk about that day.

 

The sound of clinking filled the hall. “What is that?” He pulled his eyes off his still fur-free wrist and looked to her.

 

She shook her head, “I had though everyone was asleep.” She quickened her step hurrying into the galley, when she entered the galley she stopped, before her stood Vector clad in dark pajamas and Vette's purple apron.

 

The Joiner looked back over his shoulder smiling, “Good morning, we heard you speaking, thought you would like some breakfast.”

 

She stared at him, eyes wide. The last time Vector had gotten into her galley he had gotten lost in her extensive spice rack, they found him hours later sitting on the floor surrounded by open bottles and bags, fingers discoloured and covered in spices. It had taken her weeks to replenish what he had eaten.

 

“Don't worry, we have used much restraint this time. We are making eggs with nerf hash and these little sausages we found.”

 

Next to her Aric's stomach growled, the Joiner smiled. “Please have a seat, we will get you a drink.” Vector gestured to the galleys small table, beside her Aric nodded and moved to sit at the table. As Aric settled into the seat, arranging the blanket around him, Vector looked at Kit his lips turning up in a quick smile. The Joiner gave her a small nod, “it is good to see you up and moving,” Vector moved to set a glass of blue milk on the table. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”

 

 

AN

Prompt: Morning After

 

 

@ Fruazet

Yes, that was very much done without Kit's knowledge. When everyone on board figured out what Quinn had done, put Pierce in the tank over Aric, she was pretty much done. Kit ordered Pierce to get him off the ship. Now there was an upcoming transfer to permanently transfer Quinn of the ship and into Ovech's service. With everything going on she thinks that is what happened and Pierce never tells anyone.

When Kit tells Aric she didn't have a medic in her service, she phrases her answer to Aric so she does not have to explain that Quinn was the one who didn't treat him. I am debating if I should have written it down, honestly the thought never occurred to me to do so until now.

Now if anyone discovers that is what happens to him, well I am now thinking they might, a bit down the road.

 

[frauzet]

Thanks for the explanation.

Nice to see Kit and Aric get at least a little of their well earned rest. I don't really trust the quiet, though. There is something in the air

Vector eating the spices made me giggle.

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

You are most welcome.

I had this vision in my head of Vector sitting on the floor with countless bottles open and scattered around him, with his finger tips and mouth stained with who knows what.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop are you?

 

 

I don't think there are any spoilers of note. So no spoiler warnings!

 

PART II CHAPTER 10

 

 

Year 3634 a few hours after proceeding prompt

 

THE CHIMERA

 

He stood in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with his damp mane. It was past his shoulders; he didn’t want to cut it, but it was hanging in his face. Placing his hands on the basin, he leaned in looking at his reflection. He searched his face, trying again to place what was off.

 

“Yeah, right,” he muttered. “I don't even know my own name and I am trying to figure out what looks… off.” He snorted at his reflection, “My hair is probably to long.” He brought his hands up running them over the top of his head and through his mane pushing it off his shoulders, for all he knew he liked it this way. It takes time to grow hair this long.

 

He turned his head to the right, running his clawed fingertip along the fine furred edge of his ear. The jewelry he had was expensive. His claw moved the rings hanging off the upper edge of his ear, slowly moving along the bottom edge of his ear to gently roll the thicker earring in his earlobe. As he watched the golden metal catch and sparkle in the 'fresher's light he silently begged his reflection to give him some hint as to where they came from. He really wanted to know, he needed to know, he had been surprised and embarrassed when he discovered his other piercing while taking his shower. He realized that all of them had been in his body for a while, he just wish he could remember, somehow the idea of decorating his body in such a manner seemed… wrong somehow.

 

But, he had obviously wanted them; it was all a giant frustrating empty void, what he thought he knew about himself was being questioned by those around him. No one had verbally challenged him, but their expressions had spoken volumes. Apparently he was being uncharacteristically modest, but he wasn’t comfortable walking around in his underwear. He moved the krill shaped ring in his earlobe, gently tugging on it. But he had before, before he forgot what, who he was.

 

Straightening he ran his fingers through his mane again. Shaking his head at his silent reflection he turned and walked out of the refresher.

 

A knock filled the air, jumping he turned to look to the closed door on the other side of the Sith's bedroom. No their bedroom, it was theirs, his belongings were in here too. “Come in.” The durasteel slid into the wall, waiting on the other side was the Joiner.

 

“You feel better we hope?”

 

He nodded, “I feel clean.”

 

The Joiner gestured out of the room. “If you are ready they would like to begin.”

 

Begin... he shuddered, he didn’t want to see, the thought scared him. He nodded, “I suppose I am ready,” he whispered. He ran his hands over the grey fatigues he was wearing, that he had found hanging in the armoire. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his rolling stomach as he stepped out of the room into the ship's large common area.

 

Gathered around the large built in holocommunicator were the ship's occupants. The two Sith stood together, they were flanked by the Agent and a massive Human who looked so achingly familiar. He followed the Joiner to the com. The massive Human intently watched him approach. He stood next to the Joiner as Vector took his place next to the Chiss Agent.

 

She turned those burning red eyes upon him but she spoke to the Human. “If you would begin the recording.” The man just nodded as he bent forward pushing a series of buttons. He pulled his eyes away from the Chiss' gaze as an image flickered to life. The Human muttered under his breath and hit another button. The blued video feed flickered and solidified. Before them was an image of a massive but long abandoned dirty storefront, the building was so huge it could of once been a manufacturing plant of some kind.

 

“It's in colour?” he stared amazed, he had thought it was only going to be blue.

 

The massive Human chuckled, it rolled through the room and stuck a cord, “Aye it is, Empire spares no expense.” He looked to the Human, the massive Human looked back at him giving him a half smile. The Human then looked over his shoulder to the Chiss woman, “Ready Agent?”

 

She nodded, “Ready.”

 

The massive Human pushed a button and stepped backwards crossing his arms across his chest.

 

Before them the door opened as if on its own. A loud skull-splitting scream emanated from the com, echoing through the ship. Someone growled “Bloody hell, what are they doing?” the speaker sounded like the Human standing by the Sith. Another scream poured out of the com's speaker mere seconds after the first one faded.

 

The image began to move forward, everything darkened as the camera went into the blackness of the abandoned storefront. A rubbish-riddled hallway appeared, broken tables leaned against the walls interspersed with broken and dusty electronic equipment, the last remnants of a once functioning business long forgotten.

 

“Which way mi' Lord?” it was quiet barely audible, it sounded like the Human.

 

“Please turn it up,” the Chiss asked.

 

Grunting the Human pushed another button; a loud ragged scream filled the air. He swallowed, he recognized the person's voice, it was his.

 

“I don’t know, he... is here somewhere,” a woman's voice she founded frantic. He glanced over at the two Sith, the redheaded one was clenching her left hand, he felt barely contained rage bubbling under her calm surface. “I can't, I can't feel him anymore. It is as if he just vanished.”

 

“Then we do it the old fashioned way, I want two by two, search pattern Besh.” An armored arm briefly appeared in the frame, gesturing, the sound of armored feet moving away followed. “Don't worry mi' Lord, we will find him,” the Human growled.

 

The movement resumed as the hallway slowly advanced before them, doors were opened, long-vacant rooms were checked as that horrible screaming played as a looping soundtrack in the background. Then a door came into view. “Wait,” the rumbling voice of the Human commanded. The camera focused on a door, the dirt on its frame was smudged. “This way mi' Lord.”

 

“What is it? What did you find?” it was the redheaded Sith.

 

“The door, it's been moved and recently. Do you feel anything at all?”

 

There was a moment of silence and then she spoke, “No, I don't, I feel nothing at all in the Force.” A low hiss filled the air.

 

“What's up?” It was another woman it sounded like Vette. “What's going on?”

 

The Sith growled, “They have Jedi at least one, they are blocking me. It's a giant dark spot in the Force, the idiots. They are this way.” A black-gloved hand reached out towards the door and it slid backwards into the wall, not even offering the slightest sound of protest. “The idiots,” the Sith muttered under her breath. The black-cloaked figure moved into the center of the camera’s frame, walking through the vacant room, up a long stairwell that was miraculously dust free, to another floor. The redheaded Sith moved quickly almost running as they rapidly covered unknown ground.

 

Another scream filled the air; it was louder, followed by indiscernible words. The Sith stopped before a closed door, looking back over her shoulder, gold eyes glittering as she looked to the massive Human.

 

“On your mark mi' Lord,” the massive Human rumbled.

 

“Wait for my order.”

 

The door in front of them silently slid open. A deep male voice snarled; it made him flinch. “Damn him, he is managing to hide her.”

 

Another voice answered, “What? Hide her how?”

 

Another ragged scream echoed off the walls.

 

“Not sure but he is,” the deeper voice laughed. “Well he's been with her for just about two standard years, sleeping with her for longer.”

 

A low growl flowed out of the com speaker. The Sith slowly moved through the door, saber hilt in hand. She seemed to move achingly slow as the two unknown men spoke.

 

The second voice answered the deeper one, “That's a long time wonder if they are mated.”

 

“Mated,” the deeper voice hissed, “don't be absurd.”

 

Next to him the Chiss inhaled sharply as she listened.

 

The second speaker responded, “It’s possible, that’s a long time to slink through war zones, something has to be driving them.” Finally the speaker came into view.

 

Before them sitting in a backwards facing chair was a Human, smartly dressed with neatly combed brown hair, his hands draped over the back looking to a kneeling figure in brown robes. The robed man, another Human, clutched in his hands the head of someone who was chained to a heavy wooden chair. The screams were coming from the bound man. As he stared at the unfolding scene, he started to shake. The bound man was a Cathar, his clothes were once nice but now they were covered in filth; bloodstained and ripped. The Cathar's face and head was covered in blood, his right eye was cut and swollen shut. His shaking worsened; he recognized the clothes, it was the clothing he woke up in. As he watched the robed man grip the bound Cathar's head, no his head, he realized the air around his shackled form was sparking.

 

“I wonder why he has not defected yet.” the seated Human wondered.

 

Defected... his mind raced as he listened; he had been wearing Republic Military dogtags. Jy’lith had removed them; setting them aside since they could not be worn in the tank. He stared at his tortured form, the people who were hurting him were from the Republic, they were torturing him because of the Sith, he heard the Humans they had said he and the Sith had been together for the past two years. She had called him her husband. He watched her black-robed form; she was searching to save him from these people. He had been so very wrong.

 

He watched the redhead Sith thumb her hilt, activating her saber. The cyan plasma blade cut through the darkness, illuminating everything in a pale blue that was quickly joined by a warm golden glow. When she spoke her voice was completely devoid of all emotion. “He never had any intention of defecting, for some unfathomable reason he likes the Republic.”

 

Her hand rose, pulling the robbed man up off the floor, ripping his hands away from the Cathar's head. The robed man's hands flew to his neck, grasping, his feet kicked as he tried to free his throat from her invisible grasp. She moved her hand flinging his choking form across the room, slamming him into the wall. Her eyes never left the chained Cathar; she lowered her hood. “My apologies for my late arrival.”

 

The trapped Cathar shook his head, his voice barely audible, “better, late … than never, my dear.” He glanced over at the redheaded Sith as she stood by the com, visibly shaking and radiating anger. She looked as if she was barely able to keep it contained as she stared straight ahead at the projected camera feed. His attention was pulled back to the com as he heard the tell-tale sound of sabers igniting. Behind his shackled body he saw blue and green sabers ignite; there were three Jedi behind the chair.

 

The Sith spoke through the com's speaker, he stood watching the Jedi fan out and armored troopers moved to flank his chair. Her recorded voice was so cold, “My dear, your call.”

 

The brown haired Human moved in the chair, “What?” he muttered.

 

His voice answered as the sparks grew snapping in the air around his shackled and beaten form, his tone was so cold he sounded like the Sith, “Kill. Them. All. My Mate.” His knees felt weak, the shaking worsened, making it hard to stand.

 

He heard a smile creep into her voice, “Gladly,” she answered.

 

He watched eyes wide as the redheaded Sith's black-robed form launched across the room, starting a deadly chain of events. He watched as her saber plunged into the chest of the brown haired Human, her stride didn't even slow as she pulled the blade out moving to her next target.

 

He dropped his eyes as the sounds of combat exploded. The barely contained anger in the ship’s common room bubbled over, it surged into the air; he felt it hang heavy as it rushed towards him, somehow it flowed faster as he reached for it. The shaking in his body became uncontrollable as he looked to his hands, sparking and snapping around and through his fingers was golden lightning. He held his hands up, as his knees grew weaker, threatening to drop him. This wasn’t right he should be able to do this. He heard a voice laughing as he watched the sparks dance over his hands.

 

His knees buckled sending him to the ground, as he held his hands up. He pulled his eyes away from the sparking lightning; he opened his mouth to scream when a bright flashing pain erupted in his head. The pain grew as he fought against it. He wasn’t going to give in, he needed to stay awake, he needed to remember. He was told to remember. He raised his hands higher, he heard voices shouting, but it wasn’t the voice in his head telling him to remember. The throbbing pain continued to grow, he gritted his teeth fighting it. He had to fight it. The lightning grew traveling up his arms; it grew larger more defined. He reached out, grasping the pale skinned hand that was hovering by his arms. He looked up into green eyes. “Please,” he whimpered, “please, Kit, help me remember.” And the pain won, he felt his control slip away as he lost consciousness.

 

 

 

AN

Prompt: Discoveries and a bit of Alternative Perspectives

 

[frauzet]

There it is again, the lightning...

Whether or not the recording helps with actual memories, it at least proves Kit told Aric the truth, so that's one worry less for him.

I suspect there is much more to learn, and it probably is connected to his upbringing.

Looking forward to find out more.

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

That pesky lightning

That is one of the reasons they showed him the recording, to prove to him they were to help, and of course to jog something loose, memory wise.

I bet you are onto something there, to bad he doesn't remember his upbringing...

 

 

Spoilers ~ none in-game spoilers.

 

PART II CHAPTER 11

 

 

Year 3634 two days later

 

THE CHIMERA

 

Groaning he moved, his head throbbed. Bringing his hand up he gingerly rubbed his temple. He felt something move in the room. Cracking open his eye he looked across the room, there sitting in the wooden chair was the redheaded Sith, no he thought, Kit. He had called her Kit, it was short for something, but it just would not come to him. Her feet were tucked up on the chair, her robe pooling across her feet. Her chin rested on the back of her hand, her green eyes intently watching him.

 

He moved, slowly rotating towards her, his head protesting every movement. He was in a bed, a large one with black bedding, he realized he was in the Sith's bedroom. “Hey,” he whispered, his throat raw.

 

“Hey,” she answered. “How are you doing?”

 

He rubbed his head, “Head hurts again, throat is sore too.”

 

“Would you like me to go get you something for the pain?”

 

“No,” he shook his head, “I... I can stop it.”

 

Her head canted to the side, “How do you stop it?”

 

He shrugged, “Not really sure, I just refuse to let it hurt me, I ignore it.”

 

“Do you ignore it or do you contain it?”

 

“I,” he closed his eyes debating the best way to answer. “I stop it from hurting, I force it away.”

 

“Away...”

 

He opened his eyes, looking to her. Those green eyes were intently locked onto his. “I don't really know how I do it, it is just boxed up so I stop hurting.”

 

“What happens when you get upset?”

 

“It escapes, I don't even realize it until I am in pain. And then, I can't control it, I... I lose consciousness.” He rubbed his head.

 

Those intent eyes didn't waver. “When you are by someone who is overly emotional; be they angry, confused or even happy?”

 

He swallowed hard staring at her, how did she know? He felt his body start to shake, he was scared he didn't want to talk about it. Taking a deep breath he watched her sitting in her chair, her eyes locked onto him, he knew she wanted an answer. “I... I can feel it.”

 

“Feel it?” She shifted in her seat.

 

He nodded unconsciously bringing his legs up towards his chest.

 

“Tell me,” her voice softened, “how do you feel it?”

 

He whimpered, “It's tangible, it fills the air, I … could take it if I wanted.”

 

Her voice softened even more, “Do you see anything else? A bright light or a dark smoky shadow?”

 

“No,” he shook his head. “I don't, I just see how people feel, it clings to them, it...” He curled up tighter, bringing his knees to his chest. “I could touch it... I did, I touched it and I took it.” He closed his eyes, and tightened his grip on his mane.

 

“You took it?”

 

Shaking he nodded, “In there … when we watched that... that recording. I felt your anger, your rage. I felt it and I took it.” He curled up tighter in the bed, “I don't know how but I did. I don't know how.” He felt that bizarre tingle return, he clenched his eyes tighter, he didn't want to see. He heard the chair creek and the rustle of cloth. He knew she was getting closer; he could feel her concern, it grew as she stepped closer. He pulled into a smaller ball.

 

She stopped by the bed. He clenched his eyes even tighter. He felt fingers slide along his brow, pushing his mane out of his face. She gently touched his hand. “Do you know who I am?”

 

He shook his head, “I don't know, you, you're Kit, but that is a nickname. I don't remember what it is short for, I vaguely remember knowing you, there is nothing specific, I have tried. I have tried to remember you but its like trying to catch reflected light, I know its there but when I get close to it, it's gone. We are together, you called me your husband, that... that man, that Jedi, he said we were mated. I... I called you my mate on that recording, but I don't remember that. I don't remember having a mate.” He curled up tighter his knees almost touching his chin.

 

The hand continued to caress, “It is true, we are mated.” Her fingers ran through his mane. He felt her touch run over his fur as the air sparked over his skin. “Do you remember anything else at all?”

 

He licked his lips swallowing, “That massive Human is called Pierce, he... he is a friend.”

 

“Yes,” her soft voice confirmed, “he is a good friend.”

 

“Vette and Jy’lith are off the ship.” It wasn't a question but a scared statement.

 

“Yes,” she whispered, “they are. They are working to try to find out what happened.”

 

“In that room?” he shuddered.

 

“Yes, why things even got that far. It never should have.” Her hand ran along his arm. It began to trace a lazy pattern along his fur. “Its easier to talk to someone when they look at you, why don't you open up your eyes?”

 

He shook his head, “No.”

 

“No?” Her hand resumed its casual meandering through his fur. “Why don't you want to open your eyes?”

 

“I, I'm scared.”

 

“What are you afraid of?”

 

“It's back, I can feel it.”

 

“Hmmm,” she murmured as she gently played with his mane, her fingers running along the edge of his ear. “Fear is not a bad thing. Is that what you have been doing? Ignoring your fear, suppressing it?”

 

Shaking he nodded his head, “Yes,” he whispered.

 

“Has that gotten you the result you have wanted?” Her fingers moved through his mane, gently moving it off his neck. “Has ignoring it made it go away?”

 

He shook his head no.

 

“You are one of the bravest people I know, so very strong. You cannot let your fear control you. Right now your fear is ruling you, you are to scared to even open your eyes to look upon me.”

 

He shook, “I have to contain it I have to suppress it, I... I … need to rise above it.”

 

“No,” she gently caressed his fur, “no you need embrace it, bend it to your will. Trying to suppress it will not work, it is a tool, a weapon. I will show you how to use it, how to control it.”

 

“What?” He continued to shake, this wasn’t right; he had to be to rise above them, didn't he?

 

“You have tried it your way, try it my way. I can teach you how to control it, don't you want to control it, to make the pain finally subside?”

 

He nodded his head, “I... I would like that.”

 

“Then open up your eyes, look at me, look at what you are able to do. Once you can accept it, you can begin learning how to control and manipulate it.”

 

Nodding he forced an eye to open, immediately shutting it when he saw the gold sparking around his curled up form. Taking a deep breath he tried again. Slowly he opened up his eyes, he watched the golden air spark. He disentangled his hand from his mane, slowly bringing it in front of his face, between his body and Kit's kneeling form. Shaking he stared at his hand, flowing around his hand was more of that gold lightning; as he looked he realized it covered his arm.

 

He watched it flicker between his fingers, flowed over and under his hand, wrapping itself around his wrist, as it licked along the length of his arm. As he stared at it, it seemed to become more defined. The throbbing pain in his head started to grow.

 

“No,” she murmured, “not yet, trying to gather more is good but not yet, don't try to grow it.”

 

He pulled his eyes away from his hand, looking at her. She smiled, “Try to define and confine it, shrink it into a manageable ball.”

 

“How?” he felt the erratic lightning flow over his arm, it slid along his fur, it felt it tingle but oddly it didn't hurt.

 

Kit moved her left hand; she held it palm up next to his. As he watched a spark of violet static formed in her hand, it grew, jumping into a cloud of static electricity. “You said it was tangible, so force it on itself, shape it into what you want.” The cloud condensed, shrinking yet becoming more defined, until bright violet arcs of lightning jumped between her fingers. “Once you have it under your control, do with it what you will. Since you don't need it right now, dismiss it, release it back into the Living Force.”

 

She made it look so easy. Taking a deep breath he stared at the bolts licking up his arm, he reached out trying to touch them as he had touched the rage filled haze. To his surprise it responded, it felt different, like a mild shock but it didn't hurt. He realized he could smell the metallic snap of ozone. He pushed against the lightning; it began to shrink, it traveled from his shoulder down to his hand. Slowly he continued to apply pressure, it was the oddest sensation, to move something without moving a single muscle. The golden mass gathered in his palm, jumping and sparking between his fingers. Individual bolts danced, arcing and leaping along his clawed fingertips.

 

“Good, very good. Now release it, just let it go. Release it back into the Living Force.” He watched the small gathered bolts in her palm spark and then they disappeared.

 

He nodded, staring at his palm, he thought about just releasing it, he stopped touching that ever present lump of fear deep in his gut. The bright bolts flared for a moment and then they were gone. Smiling he stared at his palm, he did it; he made it go away. He stared at his open palm, but could he make it come back?

 

He could, he thought he could. He wanted to try. He wasn’t as scared now that he had managed to manipulate the lightning. The fear had made it appear, he stared at his hand. The fear made it appear and the pain made it grow. An unconscious growl escaped his lips as he stared at his hand, concentrating, he reached out touching that throbbing pain deep in his head, the one that always threatened throw him into the dark abyss of unconsciousness when he tried to remember, to think of his past. Pain flared in the base of his skull as white flashed in his vision, he pulled on it and was rewarded with that sparking tingle on his arm. He watched as the gold sparked along his shoulder before traveling down his arm; the throbbing in his head increased. He growled, refusing to let it hurt him anymore, he grabbed it, forcing it to join the licking bolts heading down his arm. The snapping mass in his palm grew. He focused on it, channeling all his effort into shaping the arcing lightning. He realized as he watched the bolts lick along his fingers and flow over his palm that his head didn't actually hurt anymore, he still felt the pain but it was minor, a mere inconvenience.

 

He growled triumphantly, he did it; he managed to make it come when he called it, not when it wanted to appear. He watched it flow over his hand, getting used to the unusual sensation and breathing in the thick ozone that hung in the air. He turned his hand over, he looked at the back of his hand, palm raised, facing away from him fingers spread. He canted his head to the side as he studied it; he slowly sat up in the bed, using his free hand to prop his body up. With a deep breath he pushed the gathered lightning away from his body, it shot away from him in a sparking golden arc, impacting against the far wall, erupting in a violent ball of gold sparks.

 

Eyes wide, he looked back at Kit, “I... I just. I just shot lightning.”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, “you did. Rather impressive, one would think you had done this before.”

 

He shook his head no, “I don't think I have.”

 

She smiled, “So, how is your head?”

 

“It's better, it still hurts but nothing like it did.”

 

“It is easily controlled?”

 

“Yes,” he nodded, “it is,” he turned his hand over staring at his palm, “I just did it, I just made it stop.”

 

She smiled, “See, I told you I could teach you.”

 

He looked at her, “You did, I thought I had to repress it. I thought that was what I was told.”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “don’t repress emotions, control them. They only strengthen your connection.”

 

He nodded, “I understand.” He set his hand down on the mattress, “so now what happens?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What happens now, now that you have taught me that?”

 

“Well that is completely up to you, I can teach you more, if you would be willing, or you can use what I showed you to keep your pain under control.”

 

“If, if I said yes, would I be... would I be...”

 

“Sith?” she finished for him.

 

“Yes,” he nodded, he felt his stomach roll; the thought scared him.

 

“Yes, it is what I am. That is what I will teach you to be, if you so desire it.”

 

“Do I have to make my decision now?”

 

“Of course not, it's entirely up to you.”

 

He looked at her, “If I choose to not learn anymore would you force me to?”

 

She shook her head, “Never. I have never forced you to do anything you didn't want, I will most certainly not start now. It is entirely up to you, if you want more knowledge, more training, that is up to you. But. I will be training you as I was trained, you will be Sith.” She reached out her hand slowly reaching for his face, gently she touched it her hand sliding along his fine furred cheek. “You are headed down that path already, your power manifesting the way it has, lightning is an aspect of the Dark Side. I won’t force you to make a decision; it is entirely your choice. Come to me when you have made your decision.”

 

She dropped her hand and slowly stood. “Why don't you get some rest, once the adrenaline fades you will be tired, displays like that can drain you.”

 

“You are not disappointed in me?”

 

“No,” she smiled, “not at all, I am impressed. I actually hope you come to me, tell me what I wish to hear. I think it would be a great pleasure to take you on, oversee your training. But rest, when you wake come find us, dinner will be in a few hours.” She bent over running her fingers through his mane; she bent closer, before she hesitated. Smiling at him she straightened, dropping her hand. Walking out of the room she gave him one last smile over her shoulder.

 

Lying back down on the bed he stared at the closed durateel door. He pulled the blankets up to his chin as he contemplated the closed door, he relaxed into the pillows, realizing for the first time since he woke up on this ship nothing hurt. He tried to stay awake to think about what Kit had said to him, but his body refused. His eyes grew heavy as he sighed into the pillows, falling asleep.

 

 

AN

Prompt: Teachers.

 

 

[Kitar]

Wow... Sorry you guys, I have been trying to post this since Friday. I knew life was going to be hectic... I sat down on Friday, had to leave mid-post and I finally get to try again.

 

Spoilers: None I can think of.

 

PART II CHAPTER 12

 

 

Year 3634 Month 2 two days after previous prompt

THE CHIMERA

 

He leaned back against the headboard, lightning running along his clawed fingertips. He held his hand up, the lightning flared, growing. He opened his left hand and it arced, sparking from his right hand into his left palm. He raised his left hand, the lightning flashed running up his fingers, he stared utterly fascinated by golden electrical storm contained in his palm, coursing along his fingers. His fur tingled, the sensation becoming familiar, almost commonplace as if he had been doing it his entire life and not just a few mere days.

 

He exhaled through parted lips, closing his hand. The lightning blinked out of existence. Reclining his head against the headboard, he stared at his hand. The fur wasn't even disturbed. It was fascinating, he had thought it would of been standing on edge, but it wasn't, it didn't affect his body when he summoned it. His eyes tracked down to his bare wrist. Both of them still wore uneven jagged bands of fur free hide. He brought his right hand up, slowly running his finger along his wrist. He frowned; it felt like bare skin, he didn't even feel the soft fuzz of newly growing fur. It had been over four weeks since be had been pulled out of that building, he had spent over three of those weeks in a kolto tank and still his wrists wore shackles.

 

Frowning he dropped his hand pulling his grey shirtsleeve down. His stomach growled, scooting to the edge of the bed, he dropped his bare feet to the ground. Maybe there was something going on? He moved to the door, concentrating he reached out, right hand extended. He felt the air around the numpad thicken; pushing, the door's mechanism depressed and it obediently slid into the wall. Smiling he brought his hand up, utterly fascinating.

 

The muted sounds of a sports caster greeted him as he crossed the threshold into the common area. Pierce was sitting on the edge of the couch intently watching a huttball game. “Hey,” he walked over to the couch.

 

“Hey,” Pierce looked up, giving him a half smile. “Have a seat Aric.” He slapped the seat cushion.

 

He looked at the massive Human, nodding as he looked from the nearly silent game.

 

Pierce shifted on the couch, his brow furrowed as he looked up at the Cathar. “Sorry, I'm sorry, seeing you up n' movin' I keep forgetting...” the massive man cringed. “Kark, I didn't...”

 

“It's okay Pierce,” he shook his head.

 

Pierce scratched the back of his head, “Is it, is okay if call you Aric?”

 

“Yes,” he gave Pierce a small smile, “it's fine everyone else is, I am the only one who doesn't recognize the name.”

 

“I know, I just feel funny callin' you somethin' you don't answer too.”

 

“It's alright, it's better then hearing 'hey you Cathar'.”

 

“I suppose,” Pierce frowned. The massive Human stood, “is there somethin' I can help you with? You need anything, I think there are some still biscuits n' sausages in the galley.”

 

“Oh that sounds good, you want anything?”

 

“No, I'm good, ate earlier.”

 

“Okay, I'll be back in a few,” he turned to head to the galley, when he paused, “why is it so quiet in here?”

 

Pierce glanced towards the starboard side of the ship, “They are training.”

 

His head followed Pierce's gaze. “They are training?”

 

“Yes, it's why I have to keep the game quiet, they are meditating.”

 

“Really?” He took a hesitant step closer to the starboard hall.

 

Pierce bit his lip before he nodded, “Just don't disturb them.”

 

He nodded as he continued walking heading down the hall. He stopped outside what appeared to be the cargo bay; it sat across from the galley, until now the door had been closed. Within he saw the Joiner, Vector was kneeling on a thick mat. Beside the Joiner the Chiss lay, arms over her head, stretching. Towards the back of the room, beside a built-in weapons rack were the two Sith, Kit and her apprentice Jaesa, he was pretty sure her name was Jaesa. He watched as they knelt, he could feel the air around them pulse, as it built he clenched his hands refusing to give in to the temptation to touch the charge growing around them.

 

They moved in unison; standing, each pulled to their hand a training saber off the rack. Kit spoke a quietly murmured word and both women changed their stance, their feet staggered; the left leading the right, hands grasping the training blades. With the gentle rustle of cloth they moved bringing their weapons to the right, shifting their weight, stepping forward. They continued to move with well-practiced precision, when Kit uttered another inaudible word. Both women changed their stances.

 

He realized as he watched they were practicing saber stances. Slowly he stepped inside the room. Moving along the wall he stood near Vector and the Agent. The Sith continued to move, arms flowing from one form to the next. He wanted to join in, his fingers twitched.

 

The agent looked up at him. She nudged him with her foot. “No dueling.”

 

He grunted in acknowledgment, slowly he walked towards the women. Kit canted her head at his approach. Biting his lip he gestured to the weapons rack. Her eyebrow arched, after moment she nodded, pointing to the rack with her chin. He stepped closer, his hand hovering over a long training staff. Her eyebrow shot even higher, but she nodded. She looked over to Jaesa, her apprentice just shrugged, she returned her gaze to him and nodded her consent. He grasped the training staff, hefting it in his hand; he slid his hand down the staff's center grip, adjusting his hold. Satisfied he moved to stand next to Jaesa. He stood feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, arms loose with the training staff firmly grasped in his right hand.

 

He looked over at the Sith, both were staring at him. Had he done something wrong? He flashed them a hesitant smile. Kit studied him standing there. Time seemed to stand still as she looked him over. Finally she moved. Kit turned her body towards Jaesa, she extended her hand, the brunette Sith handed her the training saber. Kit moved past them, she replaced the training sabers and picked up two training staffs. She silently walked past him handing Jaesa a training staff.

 

Kit slipped off her black robe, she folded it over her arm before setting it on a nearby crate. She slowly walked in front of them, wearing only her black under armor slacks and shirt, dark auburn hair pulled back into a tail hanging between her shoulder blades. She hefted the training staff in her hand as she turned to face them. “Shii-Cho.”

 

He brought the staff up, waiting.

 

“Zone One, begin.”

 

Next to him he felt Jaesa shift; his left hand grasped onto the staff behind his right. Shifting his weight, he extended his right leg, keeping his weight on the ball of his barefoot. He brought the staff up to his mid chest angling the staff's leading end upward, he jabbed the staff at the imagined adversary's head, before he shifted his weight stepping forward with his left leg, fluidly bringing the staff across his body to repeat the jab with the trailing edge of the training staff. He stepped backwards returning to his starting position.

 

He looked to Kit she was staring at him, eyes wide, a wave of surprise rolled off of her. He looked to Jaesa, her apprentice shared the same surprised expression. He tightened his grip on the training staff. The Sith were not the only confused ones, he looked behind them, the Chiss was sitting up, both she and Vector were staring at him. A wave of fear rolled through his stomach, what had he done? He looked back to Kit, what had he done wrong?

 

She looked at him for a moment before speaking. “Well done,” her eyes were locked onto him.

 

“Thank you,” he murmured, he didn't like the feeling in the room, the surprise had morphed into a cloud of apprehension that just hung in the air. “I have always enjoyed it.”

 

“Is it your favorite?”

 

He smiled, “It is, did I perform it incorrectly? I did as I remembered.”

 

An audible intake of air blew through the cargo bay. He nearly dropped his training staff; he remembered a saber form. “How...” he whispered.

 

Kit stepped closer, “You remembered it perfectly.”

 

“How, how do I remember that, I thought I am in the military, how...”

 

“Shhh,” her hand reached out, she gently touched his trembling arm, “calm yourself, control it. Take a deep breath, control it, center yourself.” Her hand slid up along his grey sleeve, coming to rest against his neck. As he leaned into her caress he realized the air around them was sparking.

 

His voice shook, “I... I don't know, how do I know about Form One?”

 

She ran her fingers through the fine fur on his neck, “I don't know we will find out. Keep control, we will continue to practice, perhaps you will be able to recall more.” She looked past him to the entrance of the cargo hold, locking gazes with the Chiss. The Agent gracefully stood; she nodded before she left the room, muttering something about game changers.

 

“Come, let's continue,” she dropped her hand after giving his neck one last caress. She returned to her position before them.

 

He swallowed, quelling the fear rolling through his core. He adjusted his feet; balancing his weight on his right foot, he brought up his staff. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, exhaling he opened his eyes. Looking to Kit he nodded.

 

“Good, Shii-Cho, Zones One through Six, begin.”

 

He gripped his training staff as he moved to fluidly attack his imagined adversary.

 

 

AN

Prompt Fitness/Teachers

Lightsaber form Shii-Cho, first form created according to wookieepedia, Its simplicity and basic focuses left the form ideally suited for basic training, and it was used to provide initiates with an early introduction to lightsaber combat. Shii-Cho remained an effective form of combat for thousands of years, its simplicity making it a good fallback option when no other form would do.

 

 

[frauzet]

Did I mention I was curious about Aric's past? Well, I am curious about Airc's past. I am looking forward to find out more about your background story for him, especially how he came to forget about the things he obviously once knew.

<3

[Kitar]

@Frauzet.

I do believe that you have mentioned being curious Aric's background. It is coming, I swear. I think it is a few chapters away. I'm cuddled with the cat on the couch and not close to the computer, or I would tell you what chapter it us.

I could always send you the story in it's entirety.

Aric does seem to have some interesting stuff buried in there, doesn't he?

 

<3

[Kitar]

I honestly do not know why I think I have more time to do anything in the summer... A quick posting before I have to run right back out of the house again. So bare with me if there are any typos.

 

Spoilers

: mentions event/nps from SW story, possible SI title think there might be a couple more vague spoiler thingies in there somewhere too.

 

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 13

 

 

Year 3634 Month 2 few days after preceding story

 

THE CHIMERA

 

He heard angry subdued voices; setting down the datapad he was reading he turned his attention towards the noise. There was a rather quiet, yet heated, discussion going on in the common room. He quietly got up and hurried to the closed bedroom door. He pressed his ear up against the door, listening. The low voices of two women filtered to him, he strained to place the voices. He thought I might be Kit and her Agent friend. He wasn’t sure. He reached out but all he felt was frustration and anger.

 

He hesitated briefly before he clawed the doors control panel; it silently slid into the wall. He stood in the doorframe's shadowed interior, pressed up against the bedrooms wall, watching.

 

Before him stood Kit and the Agent, they were having a very heated animated conversation. He strained to make out what they were saying; both were upset with the other.

 

“My Lord,” the Agent snarled, “we can not keep doing this, someone is going to notice your extended absence.”

 

“I have taken long leaves before,” Kit growled.

 

“Not like this, it's been a month! A month since you have attended a Council meeting, someone is going to notice.”

 

“It has never been a problem before, why now! What is going on that you will not tell me about?”

 

“Nothing! It doesn’t change the fact that you are absent! You know as well as I do that the Treaty will not last as long as the Empire needs, it will eventually be shattered, we need to be in a position of strength when that inevitability happens.” The Agent growled.

 

“I don’t understand why you are so insistent we return to Kaas City.” Kit bit back.

 

“You need to be seen, you need to be. If not there you need to be seen on Korriban.”

 

“Korriban,” she snorted, “what do you even know of that place...”

 

“Kit,” the Agent snarled, “you need to go there, sit in that seat you fought so hard for and just be present. You know it as well as I do that you are looked to, that your presence helps. You know it.”

 

“I cannot take him there,” Kit jabbed her hand to the now open doorway, her eyes never leaving the Chiss, “I can't! Dromund Kaas is saturated in the Dark Side. The proximity of my ancestral estate to the Dark Temple would be catastrophic right now. He has no idea who he is, what he has remembered is completely all over the map, nothing adds up.”

 

“What does his memory have to do with being on Dromund Kaas Kit'ar! You need to go there and just be seen, people will start to get ideas and now is not the time to have to deal with some over-ambitious upstart's poorly planned idea to increase their status in life.”

 

“I am not worried about acolytes and piss poor lords, if I fall to one of them I don't deserve my titles.”

 

“You are not listening to me!” The Chiss was almost yelling. “Listen to me you need to go to Korriban, sit in on a couple sessions, so far your behavior is not out of the ordinary. If you continue to be absent someone is going to notice. We don't need that kind of headache right now.”

 

“And what am I supposed to do just leave him?”

 

“You won't be leaving him you will be protecting him.”

 

“No,” Kit crossed her arms, scowling.

 

“You are being unreasonable, you really think taking him Alderaan is a good idea?”

 

“Yes, I have allies there.”

 

“And people who would kill him off in a heartbeat.”

 

“They wouldn't dare...”

 

“You know was well as I do that it's a good possibility, in his current state he is a liability and you know it.”

 

“A liability,” a surge of anger spiked around Kit, “how dare you, he...”

 

“He is a liability and you know it,” the Agent shot back interrupting her. “Now tell me why taking someone who is obviously Force-sensitive to Dromund Kaas is such a catastrophic idea.”

 

“I am afraid of what will happen, he is so responsive to ones emotional state."

 

“And that planet is not exactly the friendliest travel destination.”

 

Kit's eyebrow shot upward.

 

“Well its not,” the Chiss muttered. “Alderaan is not a safe place for him, it’s not, even if the members of House Thul manage to protect him, the Republic is all over that planet. It would be like remaining on Nar Shaddaa. If he was in full control of his senses, he knew what he was doing it would be different. How is long forgotten muscle memory going to be able to help him if he has to fight?”

 

“He would not be alone I would be there...”

 

“Damn it!” The agent threw her hands up in the air, “Kit'ar Darksun you are a Councilor, you are the Wrath, you need to keep up appearances, you must travel to Korriban.

 

Kit growled, he felt the air around her move; he pushed his body closer to the wall. “You forget yourself Navil’aton’aryzan. How dare you presume to tell me what to do!” Kit advanced on the Agent.

 

“No, I remember exactly who I am, if I have to needle you to get you to finally remember who you are, I will do it. Sith don't scare me.” The Agent took another step closing the gap between the two arguing women. “Listen to me you know I am right, the safest place for him right now is in your fortified estate. You are going to leave him there while you travel and see to your responsibilities in that damned Council chamber. Then you will have the ability to step back and see to the training we both know he needs.”

 

“He needs to have me with him!” Kit's anger was growing.

 

“Yes.” The Agent bit through clenched teeth. “He does but you need to leave him so you will have more time.”

 

The two women were almost standing toe to toe, Kit's hands were clenched at her sides, the Agent was furious, one more ill received word and things were going to get violent. He didn't want that to happen, he knew those two were friends and they were fighting over him. Taking a deep breath he pushed off the wall and stepped over the threshold.

 

“I agree with the Agent.”

 

Eyes of fire and gold locked onto him. “What?” the women said in unison.

 

“I agree with the Agent, the thought of going to the Empire's capital scares me.” He took another deep breath, “I also think having everyone continue to live their lives before I messed everything up is, well, it's practical. If you continue to go about your business like normal, no one would think you are trying to,” he took another calming breath, “trying to hide me.”

 

“See,” the Agent flung her hand towards him, “at least one of you has the sense the Maker gave an akk dog!”

 

“But!”

 

“No, Kit, no buts, she is right.” He took another step into the room. “I will eventually have to go there, I realize that. Being in a fortified estate would be a safe location and I have a feeling the people who wanted to see me dead won’t be able to reach me there. I recognized the accents on that tape they are... were Republic.” He took in another deep breath, trying to keep calm. “I don't think they would be able to reach me on Dromund Kaas.”

 

The Chiss violently pointed towards him again, “See, he understands. Bloody hell the one with all the common sense is the one who can't even remember his fracking name! Maybe I should just head back to Csilla,” the Agent muttered. “Watch everything implode from there.”

 

“I don't think it's a good idea to take him there...”

 

“Why Kit,” the Agent muttered, “tell me why, stop being so damn elusive, just tell me!”

 

Kit looked at him, “He, he,” she sighed, “his connection is unlike anything I have ever seen. When he was being questioned...”

 

“Tortured,” the Agent interrupted.

 

Kit sighed, “Fine... tortured, his Force signature disappeared. It has never returned. It used to be so strong I could track him across the galaxy, now it is just gone.” Kit's eyes latched onto his. “He is simply absent, gone. In the small amount of guidance I have given he has never actually admitted to seeing the Force.”

 

“What?” the Agent stared at him. “I thought in order to be able to use, it you had to be able to see it.”

 

“You do, that is why I'm so against taking him there. I have no idea what taking him to a place so saturated in the Force will do. That Jedi did something when he was digging through his brain.” Kit's anger seemed to just deflate; her shoulders slumped. “I want to repair what has been done, not compound the problem.”

 

“Well is it possible that taking him there, it might actually help, I have seen your families data archives, it's extremely impressive.”

 

“It is possible, I have no idea what kind of information the Archive has for healing something like this.”

 

“Only one way to find out, take him there. Have your Father help. Though she is rather... erratic I would also call upon Nox, with her thirst for knowledge she might have stumbled across something.” The Chiss reached up tapping the side of her head.

 

Kit chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated the Chiss' words, “That is entirely possible.”

 

“Good it's settled then, we are headed to Dromund Kaas.”

 

Kit growled and nodded her consent.

 

The Agent nodded, she glanced over her shoulder towards him, silently mouthing, 'thank you', before she walked to the bridge.

 

Kit turned, mouth open when the large holo in the middle of the room chimed. Scowling she looked at the incoming call. Her scowl deepened when she held her hand up towards him. “Stay out of sight.”

 

He nodded backing up against the wall, well out of the holocommunicator's frame.

 

She crossed her arms and the holo's chiming ended; a large blue image blinked into view. He could see a very large armored form coalesce before him; a hood covered his head, sharp spikes protruding off his shoulders. “Ahhh Wrath, you have been a bit difficult to get a hold of.”

 

“I have been busy.” She bit, frowning.

 

“Apparently, I trust all is well.”

 

She scowled even harder, “Is this a social call, Marr? Or do you actually have a point?”

 

Marr shook his armored head, “I do think this is the surliest I have seen you in years Wrath, apparently all is not well.”

 

“Aww that is touching Marr, I never knew you cared.” Her tone just dripped sarcasm.

 

Marr was silent; it stretched on endlessly before he finally spoke. “I will be frank, I know who really controls Intelligence. A month ago an incident happened, it was expertly covered up. Your Agents do excellent work.” Marr's form shifted, “Since then you have been gone, when you missed a second meeting, I became concerned. I know the signs of Force combat.” He gestured towards Kit, “You never miss any sessions in which strategic targets are discussed.” Marr paused, “You and I share the same drive, the same goal to see the Empire returned to its former glory, things have become tenuous, now is not the time for outside distractions.”

 

She uncrossed her arms, staring at the blued man before her. “Are you offering me your assistance?”

 

Marr laughed, “You sound so surprised, our methods differ … greatly, but our goal is one in the same. Yes, Wrath, I am offering you assistance, if it is needed.”

 

Kit shifted before the projected form, “That is most unexpected.”

 

“Nox and Vowrawn are not your only allies on the Council.”

 

“Why have you never approached me before?”

 

Marr shrugged, “Was no reason, you are beyond capable of taking care of things. I just thought it pertinent to tell you, to kill any … complications in their infancy. I trust you will be in attendance at our next session?”

 

Kit nodded, “Yes, I will be in attendance.”

 

“Good,” the blued man laughed, before turning to look squarely at him. Even though Marr was wearing a full face mask he knew the armored Sith was looking him over, Marr's armored visage never wavered, “Wrath what is it you told me, oh yes, 'that I need to embrace my passions more'. Perhaps you need to take your own advice, indulge yours. Any man worth razing a building like that, well he must be very … entertaining.”

 

He felt his face instantly burst into flames, his ears burned. He latched his eyes onto Kit, she was standing there before them, lips parted, eyes wide, her surprise was as palpable as his embarrassment. Marr's voice filled the room, he looked to the man's projected form, Marr had shifted his gaze to Kit. “Refocus yourself Wrath, I look forward to seeing you.” His laughter lingered as his blue form abruptly disappeared.

 

Kit looked over at him, shaking her head, “How did he know?”

 

 

 

AN

Prompt: Allies

 

[frauzet]

Everybody should have at least one friend who tells them the truth even if they don't want to hear it!

Loved this exchange, where the agent calls out Kit's euphemism:

Kit looked at him, “He, he,” she sighed, “his connection is unlike anything I have ever seen. When he was being questioned...”

 

“Tortured,” the Agent interrupted.

I had been wondering why Kit didn't sense Jorgan eavesdropping, and I liked the way you presented the explanation.

Now I am right there with Kit. How die Marr know Jorgan was there?

Looking forward to find out

[Kitar]

@ Frauzet

 

Yes everyone does need a friend like that. I actually really like writing their conversations, sadly I do not get to do it too often.

Yeah, he has pretty much disappeared out of the Force if that makes any sense. It was mentioned before that Kit could feel him anywhere. Now he is just gone. So she can't detect him, even if he is standing by her, she has to do it the old fashioned way and actually see or hear him.

I do believe Marr was wondering here she has been, she has missed a meeting. How he knew she had anything to do with what happened on Nar Shaddaa, well he doesn't tell me everything.

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 14

Spoilers

 

Umm yes vaguely references quest on Imp Belsavis

 

 

 

 

Timeline year 3634 Month 2

JEN'CHWÛQ ESTATE DROMUND KAAS

 

He stared out the expansive transpristeel window watching the streaking stars of hyperspace. Bringing his rocks glass to his lips he took a long slow sip, he rolled the whisky over his tongue, before swallowing, enjoying the liquor's warmth as it slid down his throat. He sighed, another half remembered, fractured memory, he had wanted a drink and knew there was a bottle of Corellian Whisky hidden on the bridge. Why it was here and who it belonged to was still a fog. He sighed taking another sip, nursing the glass. He supposed he should be grateful, but he was so frustrated. He held the glass up, watching the stars streak through the amber liquid, refracted lights bouncing through the crystal.

 

Shaking his head he took another slow sip. He couldn't even have a proper drink, he had to be extremely cautious, apparently alcohol and the Force didn't mix very well. No, experienced Force users could drink, though most didn't, something to do with it affecting one's connection though apparently you could use it to cancel out the affects of alcohol. It was just confusing, all he knew was he was not allowed to drink to many and that was one thing he did remember, he did like to drink, and he liked whisky. He rotated the glass, watching the liquid gently move within.

 

Force users, how by the ancestors did this happen? He had no conscious recollection of the Force, none. It was there though, it was as broken and as fractured as his memory. He swallowed a bitter laugh, at least that was consistent; maybe as his memory returned his flawed connection would also heal. Maybe if he was really lucky it would disappear again. He sighed, he doubted he would be so lucky; he had a feeling all of his luck had been used up.

 

He didn't even realize it was a fractured connection, that is what Kit and Jaesa had called it. After the unexpected holo call from that Sith, Darth Marr they had called him, the women had talked to him at length about what he saw and felt. No matter how hard he tried he could not see... anything. There was no ethereal mist that blanketed everything, highlighted by bright lights or encompassed within dark shadows. He almost wished he could see it, could feel it; apparently he could use it. He saw nothing, he just felt, the stronger the emotion, be it his or someone else's, he could actually manipulate it. The extent of the manipulation was still not known, but, he took another drink, he was going to find out.

 

Right now they were barreling through hyperspace, headed towards the heart of the Sith Empire. He knocked his head back, finishing off the glass. The Empire. He pushed off his chair, moving to the cabinet where the bottle was stored. He twisted the top off the bottle, pouring another three-fingers into the glass. Leaning against a computer terminal he took another sip. He had agreed to it, but what was going to happen when they arrived terrified him. The women had tried to reassure him; even the Agent had even offered words of support.

 

He moved back to the pilot's chair, slumping into it. He rested his glass on the chair's arm as he fished a chain from under his shirt. He pulled the chain along his claw until he reached the twin metal ovals; his dogtags. He ran his thumb over the embossed text, as he stared out the window. Shaking his head he took another slow sip of the rocks glass as he continued to rub the tags. He needed help, he had agreed to more training. The thought of trying to leave these people who had saved him from a painful death had briefly crossed his mind, dismissed as soon as it occurred. He couldn't, he trusted these people, and how could he willingly go someplace else, someone wanted him dead and that Jedi, that cursed Jedi was the reason why he was broken.

 

He took another drink; no he had made his mind up and agreed now he was barreling through space to his fate. He would trust them, do what was expected of him, become what he used to fight against. At least he looked good in black, he sighed as he took another drink.

 

 

Chiming brought him out of his trace. He shifted in his seat looking up as Kit walked onto the bridge. The ship slowed, the streaking stars shortened, becoming bright dots scattered across the inky darkness of space, before them a planet came into view. It's dark blue and grey surface danced with electrical storms contained by swirling white clouds. He stood staring; before him massive Dreadnaughts were stationed around a bustling Space Station, silent sentries overseeing the docked and slow moving starships. Flying in a tight patrol formation were pairs of starfighters, weaving in and out of the Imperial Fleet.

 

The com squeaked to life, “Attention approaching vessel you have entered Imperial Space, state your business and destination.”

 

Kit moved to the pilot's chair slipping in beside him. She leaned forward, “Vaiken traffic control, this is the Chimera,” her fingers moved flipping switches, checking gauges she grabbed the yolk in her hands. “Beginning preparation for atmospheric entry.”

 

“Acknowledged Chimera, notifying Spaceport.”

 

“Unnecessary Vaiken traffic control, destination is Jen'chwûq Hanger, per clearance besh zurek aurek four.”

 

“Acknowledged Chimera, welcome home Wrath.”

 

Kit smiled, “Thank you traffic control, Chimera out.”

 

He looked over at her as she gently maneuvered the fighter through the congested, yet organized space. She banked the ship to the right, slipping through the planet's turbulent atmosphere with practiced ease. He watched as the foreign jungle, craggy rock formations and clashing seas sped along below them; its apparent deadliness did nothing to mask its beauty.

 

The ship suddenly slowed, a city seemingly materialized out of the jungle. Tall grey buildings reaching for the lightning laced sky. He stared at the distant city.

 

“That is Kaas City. My home is over the ridge, have to stay out if the city’s airspace, or I would fly closer so you could see.”

 

He nodded, his gaze shifted pulling to the left. It fell upon a massive stone building, it's triangular silhouette highlighted by lightning and the sky opened up, unleashing a deluge of rain. He gripped the arm of the chair, shaking. He stared at the ancient stone building; the very air surrounding it was oppressive. His breath caught in his throat, trying to breathe became laborious, the closer they flew to the ancient structure the thicker the oppressive air became. It became harder to focus as he fought to block utter rage and hatred that permeated the very air he was trying to breath. He fell against the chair, claws gouging the metal arm, closing his eyes he concentrated, willing the obsessive hatred that radiated from the building to recede. He felt warmth on his wrist. Cracking open his eye he saw Kit's hand on his arm.

 

“That is the Dark Temple,” she murmured, her thumb rubbed against his bare hide.

He nodded, “It is overwhelming, what happened in there?”

 

Her thumb moved caressing his wrist. “It is, it's even worse inside. As for what happened, I will fill you in later.”

 

“You have been in there?”

 

She nodded. He felt her hand tremble slightly; gripping his wrist a little harder before she withdrew it and returned it to the yolk. She slowed the ship; glancing out the window, he saw a walled complex come into view. Large stonewalls surrounded the enclosed buildings on three sides, the fourth protected by a huge rock face. On top of the natural wall he spotted armed guards seeking shelter from the rain in stone buildings. Within the walls he spotted what appeared to be a large flower garden, interspersed with statues and a small pool. At the base of the natural wall on the far side of the garden was a large archaic stone pavilion. He studied the pavilion as the ship slowed over the estate. The ship rotated moving the pavilion out of his sight, but it brought into clear view a large expansive home. It shared the same thick stone archaic construction of the pavilion. He squinted through the rain he could see some modern modifications had been made, the windows had decorative metal overlay, along the roofline was blinking lights and survey equipment. The ship stopped moving; he heard the repulsorlifters engage as the fighter began a quick descent into an underground hanger.

 

“We are here.” She looked over at him as she stood, “Lets go gather your things.” She moved off the bridge.

 

He still had a hard time thinking of it as theirs and she had taken to sleeping in the crew's quarters giving him free reign of the quarters. His complying nod unseen he fell in behind her, following her into the common area. She moved so much faster than he did, the apparent close proximity of that accursed temple seemed to have no effect on her at all. He had to fight to move, his limbs were sluggish as he constantly worked to keep the oppressive wall of negative emotions at bay. She quickly stepped into the room, returning moments later carrying a beat-up dark leatheris duffle bag. “I have most of your effects. If I forgot anything I will return to the ship for you.” He nodded reaching for the bag. She handed it over helping him sling it over his shoulder.

 

Walking to the aft of the ship she punched in a code by the gangplank. “The others will be following us shortly, there are a few things that need to be completed before the ship can be left for a few days.”

He nodded waiting for the gangplank to lower. “Try to be quiet if you can everyone will most likely be asleep, I don't want to disturb anyone if it can be helped.”

 

He followed her down the gangplank into the private hanger. Her Interceptor was parked alongside another sleek fighter; in the depths of the hanger he saw a couple more slumbering ships. The hanger was a marriage of ancient and modern construction, the bay itself was carved out of stone, along the walls and floor lighting and electrical conduits ran, seamlessly integrated and above their heads massive metal doors were closed, upon which he heard the gentle drumming of rainfall.

 

The corridor emptied out into a long stone corridor, metal scones paced the hall, the suspended green glowing crystals inside illuminating their path. He stared fascinated at the stones. They pulsated with a life of their own, gently floating within their metal cages. He reached up claws hesitating lingering next to the thin metal bars. Her hand pulled on his, grunting he tore his gaze away.

 

“This way,” she smiled gesturing down the corridor.

 

He stared at the incredibly smooth stonewalls, the floor was adorned with ancient rugs, the scones proudly keeping pace. At the doorway four large Human sculptures held up the mantel; their heads bowed, their arms uplifted holding their burden. Before him a large room opened up, carved pillars and graceful columns supported the high vaulted ceilings, the smooth stonewalls decorated with carved murals and more of the green glowing scones adorned the walls.

 

The room was huge; corridors seemed to randomly venture out of the great room forming shadowed stones halls. At the end of the hall stood a pair huge carved stone doors. She moved away from him heading towards the doors. They moved easily under her touch swinging outward, another crystal-illuminated corridor greeted them.

 

As they walked they passed more heavy doors set at irregular intervals. The scents that drifted to him were overwhelming; old scents, not musty but dormant. Layered on top of those were newer more recent trails, smelling of Human musks, spices, and unfamiliar incenses. Few sounds traveled to his ears. They sounded completely alone.

 

She paused in front of a heavy door stone door, carved with unknown script. Gently she pushed against the archaic stone. Beyond another large room opened up, high on the wall large windows let in the moons' light. Rain gently beat against the windows, a dull drumming as he entered the room. Immediately he was hit with her scent, heavy and thick.

 

“This is your room?” He asked.

 

She nodded, “Yes, if it is alright with you, you will be staying here with me, while we are planet side. It is late, well into the early morning. I will be retiring soon. In the morning we will begin your formal training.” She chewed on her lip as she watched him, waiting for his reaction.

 

“My training?” He looked at her apprehensive, swallowing he closed his eyes and nodded. Of course his training they were not here on vacation. “What are we going to be doing?”

 

“Running over the basics, seeing what exactly you remember. Try to determine how you can remember any training at all; see if we can discover where it came from. Then advancing through more specialized training. Saber Forms, object manipulation, Force manifestation, the Code.”

 

He shivered, the Code. “You mean the Sith Code.” His stomach started to roll; somehow that admission seemed wrong.

 

“Yes,” she gave him a small smile. “We don't have to, you still have not formally asked me to train you.”

 

He shook his head, “I agreed to come here, I have been practicing with you and Jaesa every morning. I need your help, I do. I don't know how to formally ask you for your help, but I need it.”

 

She nodded chewing on her lip, “Then you will have it.”

 

“Will you be taking me on then, as your apprentice? If you are training me, that is the next step isn't it?”

 

Surprise rolled off of her, “I honestly has not planned to, I was only planning on teaching you what you needed to know to control your abilities. I, I really want to teach you, my family has quite a few skilled Darths who are more than qualified to take you on as an apprentice...”

 

“But?” he stepped closer to her, watching her. She was hiding something.

 

“But, I don’t want to presume to much, we will return your past to you, when that happens you might leave.”

 

“You don’t want me to learn from you because I might leave?”

 

“No,” she shook her head, “I don’t want to make your future any harder than it needs to be, and if you leave and you return... well they will always look at you as tainted.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

She looked up at him, frowning, “If we take you on give you a complete education and you leave, the Jedi will always remember you were once Sith.”

 

“No,” he shook his head, “I won’t leave, why would you think that I would?”

 

“It's possible.”

 

“No,” he shook his head more vehemently, “they did this to me, why go back? I am not going to go anywhere. I am not going anywhere.”

 

 

She stared at him chewing on her bottom lip, before she nodded, motioning to the bed. “Make yourself comfortable, I have to go find Father, bring him up to speed. I will be back shortly. If you are hungry, I will be by the kitchen, I can bring you something back.”

 

 

He smiled watching her; she was still worried. He wished there was something else he could say, to ease her fears. “That sounds fantastic, surprise me.”

 

 

She nodded excusing herself. She slipped out of the room, heading to the left. He wondered what else was contained within the massive walls. He listened to her booted footfall fade. Turning he took in the large room. A huge window dominated the wall above the bed; it's ornately carved wooden headboard's design mirrored within the midnight blue coverlet. A dark woven rug covered most of the room's stone floor. Hand-carved shelving took up an entire wall, housing countless tomes, scrolls and datapads. Dropping his duffel on the bed he walked closer to the shelving, looking at the glowing cubes and pyramids seemingly placed at random. Other artifacts caught his eye, small statues, colourful tiles, ancient saber hilts and an ornately crafted knife, with a twisted curving handle.

 

He heard the sound of running; he turned in time to see two young children barreling towards him. They squealed when they saw him, running faster. “Uncle Aric! Uncle Aric!” they bounded up to him, grabbing onto his legs. “I can't believe you are here, yeah why are you here? Are you going to stay? Please tell me you are going to stay.” Their twin voices shouted as they managed to unbalance him, he sat back on his rear holding out his arms as they piled on top of him. Their bright green eyes were shining, as they climbed into his lap. He looked at them trying not to laugh, the little girl was sporting a very crooked haircut, with bangs that were cut so short they seemed to stick straight up. The little boy, his hair was cut so short you could see parts of his white scalp poking through; as he looked he realized there was a curling lopsided circle on the top of his head. He ran his hand over the top of the little boy's head.

 

“Aryn what did you do?”

 

The little boy grinned, “We got hair cuts.”

 

“Did you now?” he fought to keep his smile from turning into full-blown laughter.

 

“Yes,” his sister Kyra chimed in, “I cut it!” Her proud expression almost caused him to lose it.

 

“Well it's very interesting.”

 

“Yes, interesting, that is definitely a word for it,” Kit's voice filled the air.

 

He looked up past the overly energetic kits in his lap, she stood in the entryway, frowning, holding a wooden platter laden with dishes. Standing behind her was a taller Human male; his silver shot red hair was hanging loose to his shoulders. He was smiling trying to hold back laughter, his voice shook when he spoke, “I found them yesterday while Kyra was attempting to shave Aryn's head.”

 

“He wanted to look like Daddy,” Kyra boasted, “I did good!”

 

He stared up at the tall Human; he looked so familiar. His hair was different, he remembered it being shorter and a brighter red. “Lord Chylon?” he whispered.

 

The Human before him smiled, “Yes, it's been awhile.”

 

“It, it has.” He stared at the smiling aged Human standing before him. He looked from the Lord to Kit, they looked so similar, then it dawned on him, “You are Kit's father.”

 

In his lap the twins chimed in, “Of course that's Grandpa!”

 

“Pierce is their father.” He looked at Kit, her hair and her Father's hair, it was red, very red, the twins in his lap had dark reddish brown hair, well what was left of it.

 

“Well yea,” Aryn wiggled in his lap, fingers pulling at the chain around his neck, “he's our Daddy, you're our Uncle.”

 

“Come now, let's let Aric eat, he has had a very long day.”

 

“Aww but Grandpa...”

 

“No buts you are supposed to be in bed, you got to see him, now back to bed for you.” The Sith Lord looked up at him and smiled, “I will be back momentarily.”

 

The twins finally relinquished him hugging him one last time before they stood and walked over to their grandfather. The elder Sith turned ushering the children out of the room.

 

Kit carried the tray over setting it on the bed, “I am going to help tuck them in, I found some roasted nerf so I made you a sandwich.”

 

He stood smoothing his rumpled clothes, “That sounds great, thank you.”

 

She smiled at him, “I will be just a moment.” She walked past him slipping into the hallway.

 

He sat on the bed, poking at the sandwich. He wasn't very hungry anymore. He poked the sandwich, staring through it. He had recognized the older Sith, but the vague recollection was of a man who was obviously decades younger. It gnawed at him. There was something else there just floating right on the edge of recall, he tried desperately to grasp it.

 

“It is good to see you again.”

 

It was the elder Sith's voice, Lord Chylon. He looked up to see the Lord and his daughter standing before him. He stood awkwardly, setting the plate hastily on the bed next to him. He stared as his mind raced; he willed his foggy recollection to solidify, ignoring the shooting pain behind his eyes. He could do this; it was so close, just a shadow dancing right out of his grasp.

 

“I told you Father, he is suffering from amnesia,” Kit whispered.

 

“As you have said, but he remembers me don't you? You remember exactly who I am. I remember watching you, as you and your siblings played high in the treetop city of Katin. I remember watching you as you played with my children scrambling along the expansive vines that transversed the massive tree that held your families ancestral home, you even took me with to explore your families prized arbor, the oldest producing winery on Cathar.”

 

The pain in his head grew, the harder he tried to remember, to place the Lord's words the more pronounced and insistent the pain became, it was as if something was trying to prevent him from placing the aged redheaded Sith standing before him. It didn’t quite succeed, he remembered hiding within twisted vines as thick as his chest, huddled next to a little redheaded Human girl. They were holding their hands over their mouths to keep from giggling, beneath them walked the Sith Lord, red hair shining catching the spattering of light penetrating the thick canopy of the arbors leaves, shifting shadows dancing along his striking black and fire-red robes. They were hiding from him; they had been all day, from the little Human girl's father. She snuggled closer to him, her green eyes sparkling.

 

He staggered forward, eyes still locked on Lord Chylon, “The Krrul Vineyard; the pride of clan Katayev.” Bright white lights flashed before his eyes, he struggled to remain standing.

 

“Ah yes that's it, the great Krrul Vineyard.” The Sith Lord took another step closer, the smile on his face was so comforting to look upon. “I loved it there, was such a privilege to visit it all those years ago.”

 

“Father,” Kit whispered, “what are you talking about?”

 

“Do you not remember Kit'ar? You so loved Cathar, your 'most favorite' playmate lived there. The two of you would disappear for hours while I worked.” The elder Sith took another step towards him, “Perhaps you don't, perhaps you intentionally forgot, you were so upset when they … disappeared.”

 

Lord Chylon took another step towards him, he was so close now, barely a meter away. “Tell me of your uncle, I do love to hear about him.”

 

He shook, his hands clenched at his sides as he tried to remain upright, to suppress the pain in his head. “He is a good man, loves us, loves me very much.”

 

“Ahh yes I remember now, he doted on you and your mother. I remember your Grandfather was always so very angry.” The Sith's voice lowered, almost a whisper.

 

“Yes,” he nodded, gritting his teeth. The air around him was yellow; it sparked and snapped, the sharp metallic sent of ozone filled the air. “He was always mad. Mother gave me her clan name, Mother's clan was the stronger bloodline. The Katayev's were older and stronger.”

 

“Of course, I remember now, the Katayev's were much older than your Father's bloodline, it angered your Grandfather that the only male heir of his clan was given another's name.” The Sith stepped closer gently reaching out grasping his shoulder.

 

He collapsed against Lord Chylon, “She had to, it was decided, Uncle had no children, Uncle's Father and Mother's Father were littermates.”

 

The elder Sith wrapped his arms around him, holding him up as his legs gave out. “Of course it made the most sense, you were the most direct bloodline descendant. I remember you, I remember exactly who you are, you are Adrik Katayev, son of Jedi Master Rayna, nephew and heir to Prince Shange.” The Sith held him tightly as he collapsed against him, the pain was winning, he could barely keep his eyes open, keep the encroaching darkness away. “I had thought you lost, no one was able to find you, find any of you. We believed the rumors that you had been killed.”

 

The Sith hugged him tighter, “I should of said something when we met nearly two years ago, but I was a fool, I thought you were voluntarily in hiding, especially after we managed to locate and free your Uncle. I thought you were hiding.”

 

He clung to the Human, he couldn’t stand anymore, he was gritting his teeth so tightly his jaw ached.

“It is alright Adrik, this wrong will be righted.”

 

He felt a warm hand on his forehead, warmth pressed against his head, it soothed the blinding pain radiating through his skull. “Rest now,” the older Sith whispered, “you are safe here, rest.” The warmth flowed through his body; he relaxed against the Sith Lord slumping into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

AN

 

Prompt: Discoveries

Jen'chwûq Hanger: Sith Jen = dark chwûq= ember, using to also mean sun.

 

[frauzet]

That answered some of my questions

After what the Jedi did to him it comes as no suprise Aric'd rather be trained by Kit than go to the Jedi.

Looking forward to see if there's is more about Aric's past to be discovered.

<3

[Kitar]

That answered some of my questions

After what the Jedi did to him it comes as no suprise Aric'd rather be trained by Kit than go to the Jedi.

Looking forward to see if there's is more about Aric's past to be discovered.

<3

 

@ Frauzet

Well you are in luck! Get to learn some more with this chapter.

<3

 

 

 

Spoilers

References an event on trooper Ord

 

 

PART II CHAPTER 15

 

 

 

 

 

CORUSCANT

 

“You said you had urgent news?” The General stood up behind her desk offering the cloaked visitor a respectful nod of her head.

 

“I do General.” The visitor moved quietly into the spacious office.

 

“Please,” she held out her hand gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. She quietly stood waiting for her guest to seat herself. Once she was seated the General resumed her seat behind her desk.

 

“Please Grand Master what brings you to this unexpected meeting?” She leaned back in her chair studying the woman in front of her; she had lowered the cowl on her robe and leaned back into the chair. She looked tired, worn.

 

The Jedi sighed and frowned. “I have heard disturbing reports, I have come to determine the validity of them.”

 

“Reports?” The General frowned. “I have not heard anything that would require you to travel all this way Grand Master.”

 

“I do not believe you have,” she rubbed her hand over her temple before resting her hand on her lap. “These were whispers I have heard from Voss. A Knight and her Pawadan were sent there to learn more about the Mystics and her Padawan is disposed to gossip. She told me that she saw a Cathar and a Sith holding hands, stealing kisses in the shadows of a garden.”

 

The Jedi’s voice took a hard edge, “You assured me that he would never be sent to Voss. He was purposely maneuvered onto Ord Mantell to keep him out of the war. You promised me that he would be kept out of direct fighting, given the history of the squad I have wanted him returned to Mantell.”

 

“Master Jedi, he has been kept out of direct fire, it is a time of peace Havoc is currently running standard operations only and his place within the squad is a protected one. We discussed returning him to General Vander in Infantry Command; under the circumstances it would of looked awkward.”

 

“This report troubles me deeply. You gave your word he would be kept sequestered that is why he was entrusted to you, and to hear this report...” the Jedi sighed rubbing her temple. “This turn of events is most disturbing. After all we have done, if he was to find her, it could all be undone with disastrous results.”

 

The General scowled, “I have not given Havoc any orders to go to Voss, they are currently on assignment in the Core Worlds and not near the Outer Rim. How do you know it was him, there are other Cathar out there.”

 

“Are you certain that they are following your orders? This description was rather disturbing, ‘he was tall but not the tallest I have seen, no mane or stripes, quite curious that, and she was rather lovely for a Sith, dark red hair, pale complexion with the greenest eyes. Like his, his were green and gold, I didn’t want to look to long, she radiated power last thing I wanted was to draw her anger.’”

 

The General shifted in her chair, “You’re quite certain they were on Voss?”

 

“Yes General Garza the Padawan might be a gossip but she is not a liar.”

 

The General chewed on her lip; finally she spoke, “If he has found her what should be done?”

 

“Do what is necessary to keep them separated, if he remembers anything it will undermine what we have been working toward, he will help her instead.” The Jedi shook her head, the frustration clear on her face.

 

“I could arrange an accident, remove him from the equation. It would be easy enough to do, his C.O. might resist me but she will follow orders,” the General steepled her hands in front of her.

 

“No, if they have found each other after all we have done to keep them separated his death will only fuel her. She’s a Sith she would draw upon it, feed off of it. This was done so she could never gain strength from him, killing him now would defeat everything we have tried to prevent.”

 

“The only way I can ensure he does not see her again is to imprison him, pull him out of the squad.” The General leaned back in her chair.

 

“That would draw her attention, only encouraging her to retrieve him. If they are so involved as to be making out in public they had been around each other long enough to work through the minor obstacle of being on opposite factions.”

 

“But first we should determine if there is any truth to this sighting, it is possible that it is not them.” The General leaned forward again, her lips curling down in a frown.

 

“It’s possible but not likely,” the Jedi frowned rubbing her temple. “I warned them this could happen.”

 

“Them?” The General questioned. She leaned back in her chair watching the Jedi. “You have never explained why they should never be together, I think perhaps its time you tell me the whole story.”

 

“There was a vision, in it he falls for her and falls to the Dark Side, she uses him manipulates him.” The Jedi pauses.

 

“Are you telling me that he is Force-sensitive?” The General frowns, “why has this been withheld from me all this time.”

 

“Unless he remembered, there was no need to inform you.”

 

“Remembered what exactly, since he seems to have attracted the attentions of this Sith, I think I deserve to know what kind of danger I’m putting the rest of my squad in.”

 

“When the vision became known to us, it was decided to block his connection, he can no longer feel the Force. He has been shielded from all memories from his childhood on Tython. If the shielding breaks he will begin to remember what he is. The remembrance will force him to her side, since it seems he is already there it will cement his attachment to her.”

 

The General stared at the Jedi, “why would you do something like that?”

 

“I warned against it, if it in any way failed it would completely backfire and only drive him to her, the exact opposite of what we wanted. Others thought it was the only way to ensure we never lost a Master to the Dark Side, by stripping him of that possible future.”

 

“But Jedi fall, why go to such extreme measures in his case,” the General sank deeper into her chair frowning. “What else are you not telling me, how much of a risk is he?”

 

The Jedi sighed shifting in her seat. “He is or was talented, possessed a rare gift, one that would give a Sith tremendous power. He was able to manipulate emotions as a Jedi manipulates the Force, not just using it to amplify his connection or influence the emotions of those around him, but to literally draw upon them use them without having to even touch the Force.”

 

“He was a challenging Padawan, once he healed another Padawan by manipulating her worry, he simply drew it into himself, and channeled it back to her, he never even touched the Force. Another time when he was small he was so angry over being denied sweets that he picked up countless little rocks and shot them outward, again he simply channeled his rage, no one even felt the slightest pulse in the Force. He had to be housed and remain with the Masters, we had to keep him sequestered away. The risk of having him around untrained Jedi was to great.”

 

“So,” the General leaned forward, “what you are telling me is if he should remember any part of his childhood he will remember this little talent he has, which will leave him in a less than desirable state of mind. He will be a very irate Jedi unable to feel the Force but able to still use it.”

 

The Jedi shifted in her chair again, “Essentially yes.”

 

“And now I have to find a creative way to police his actions to keep him away from this Sith, who he seems to have a very strong romantic interest in?” Garza scowled.

 

“Yes. A way has to be found to keep them separated, the reason he was subtly moved into a military lifestyle is the fact it would limit his interaction with Jedi. The practice of sending a Jedi with squads of soldiers has fallen to the wayside it seemed a perfect solution. A way to keep track of him and subtly move him if needed.”

 

“Why is he not supposed to be around other Jedi, Grand Master?” The General frowned even harder.

 

“It was thought if he is around Jedi to often, the exposure to the manipulation of the Force around him could cause the shielding to weaken. If it gets weak enough it will crack possibly break. If he is directly affected by the Force, through healing, attacks, its possible it will shatter.”

 

“So by being around this Sith it's possible it has already begun to weaken.”

 

“Yes it is,” she nodded.

 

“Alright, Grand Master, I will see to it.”

 

“Thank you General.” The Jedi rose to leave. “Please use a delicate touch,” she brought her hand to her temple, “I often see us pushing him into her arms.” Bowing her head to the General, the Jedi raised the hood on her dark brown robe and headed to the door. As she crossed the threshold she sent up a silent plea to the Force, she could not shake the feeling that events had already been set into motion that were out of their hands and it was only a matter of time before they exploded.

 

 

AN

 

Prompt Behind the Scenes

Now, some of you might have noticed there was no timeline with this chapter. For that I am sorry. It does take place before Part II starts, and after they meet up on Voss. In my head it is roughly two or three months before Aric gets captured on Nar Shaddaa.

It was written to help fill in some of the blanks and it is a conversation the major players never knew happened. Sorry for not being more on the ball and giving it a proper spot in the timeline.

On another note, I hate writing these two women, I sweat it every time. I hope I was not to far off base with either of them.