A War Between Remembering and Forgetting

[Mirien Valdier]

Tygara - Mirien Valdier's Apartment

Her past had always been such a mystery. Twenty years of her life were stolen from her in an unfortunate accident. That accident landed her in the custody of the Atrisian Empire. There she served a purpose and her past, as much as they possibly could, was hidden from her. They didn't want her to remember and there was a small part of Mirien that didn't want to remember either.

Fate had led her to learn of a few of the horrors she had participated in willingly. Though she couldn't remember stabbing Coryth, Coryth remembered. Coryth angry was probably the most frightening thing Mirien had ever witnessed, not that she'd admit to it. Redhead rage was always something to fear, and for good reason. Had Siobhan not been there, the broken nose Coryth had given Mirien would have hardly been the final injury she received. In fact, it was unlikely that Mirien would have survived that encounter with the tiny and deceptively powerful redhead.

There had also been the events on Gehenna that led her to discover her past had been among the monsters there. She'd run away from something. What had she run from? Mirien didn't know for certain. Her journals of that time that were given to her, hinted of rather horrific deeds a family member had done to her. But those journals only accounted for maybe five years of the twenty that Mirien had lost. There was still so much that was missing from her mind. And to add further confusion, there were senses of the familiar when she had visited a few places. Places that she was certain she'd never stepped foot in before. Her body seemed to remember but her mind failed her.

Lately, Mirien had been having frequent and quite gory nightmares. The kind of thing that even the dark Grand Inquisitor would wake from in a cold icy sweat. Recently they had been getting worse, more detailed, vivid and terrifying. And to terrify her, was quite the task. It took a literal hell in her mind to frighten her. Or a pissed off redhead.

With these dreams came small flashes, fragments of what seemed like memories appearing in her waking hours. The longer this went on the more Mirien seemed to slip away. She wasn't quite herself anymore. Each dream, each fragment of memory seemed to pull her deeper into the abyss.

On this particular night, it had taken Mirien hours to fall asleep. Still, the nightmares plagued her. This time, it was more real than any of the others she had before. She could reach out and touch the frigid chains that locked her prey in place and the coldness sunk deep into her skin. The man she'd found, she could hear his pleas for her to release him and yet she circled him without feeling, ignoring every word as she sank into the force, letting his fear drive her.

It didn't take long for her to begin to torture the poor soul, castrating him before she slowly took him apart, digit by digit on his fingers and toes and kept working from there. She only stopped when he passed out and waited for him to wake. It wasn't any fun if her catch couldn't feel the pain, couldn't squirm against her touch. And while most of her resisted this idea, there was a small part of her that seemed to be loving this. If only she knew this dream, wasn't a dream. It was a horrific memory from a time Mirien would desperately yearn to forget soon enough.

Her eyes snapped open in the darkness of her apartment. For a change they were completely dead, all emotion had disappeared from her body. She wasn't the same woman. This was the Mirien that had long been forgotten about. There would be no kindness here, no mercy with this one. There would be no warmth hidden beneath layers of ice. No, this version of herself was all ice.

Methodically she moved through her apartment gathering a duffel of gear. No note, no message to Siobhan or anyone else as she slipped off into the night and headed for her personal ship. For she had things to do, and an itch to scratch. The goal was simple, walk the old hunting grounds. It was time to revisit the past. Who she had been would soon have to fight who she had become, to survive. With luck, with help, she might find her way back home, away from the monster she once was.

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


This was not the first time Siobhan suffered from such nightmares. She and Mirien were bonded, which meant shared memories. Sometimes, emotions, dreams and the like bled over. Siobhan was too proud to mention these episodes, partly because she did not want to worry the former Inquisitor. She'd already done enough damage by breaking the woman's heart.


But this dream was different. It was a lot more vivid and visceral...and from the past Mirien had forgotten. Siobhan could see herself in Mirien's place, tearing her poor captive apart, revelling in his suffering while she tortured him. His screams, whimpers and pleas for mercy were music to her ears. Finally, she awoke, baked in cold sweat, shivering and shaking.


She took several long, deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She was not the only one awoken, for Hestia, her devoted harem girl, was pulled from her slumber as well. "Lady Mistress, are you alright?" she asked, deeply concerned. "Did you have a bad dream? I'm here. You're in the villa. Would you like some tea?"


"No," Siobhan snapped coldly, making the attendant wince and look a bit like a puppy who'd been kicked. "I'm not angry at you," Siobhan added hastily. "It's just...I need to talk to Mirien." Without a further word Siobhan arose from the bed and took off. Not caring about her state of undress, she headed over to the communicator.


"Mirien, it's Sio. Please, talk to me." Hestia had never seen her Lady so anxious and nervous. She was accustomed to her being regal and indomitable. This change scared her more than a little bit. "She's not replying," Siobhan finally said.


Hestia furrowed her brow. "Her apartment is close. I can send someone over to check," she offered, trying to be helpful. In all fairness, the grim spook intimidated her a lot, but she understood that she was important to Siobhan.


"No, no. She's gone."


"How can you..."


"I just know," Siobhan slumped her shoulders, looking defeated and more than a little desperate. Then her expression changed, becoming what Hestia had termed her resolve face. "And...I think I know where. I have a feeling at least. I want my ship ready. I'm taking the Revenant. I'm finding her and no one's gonna stand in my way and survive."

 

[Mirien Valdier]

The communicator would go unanswered. And the one she usually would take with her on missions had been left behind intentionally. Mirien did not want to be found, or followed. If only she had a clue of Siobhan's determination to get her back. If she had known she might have chosen a more extreme measure to prevent being followed and found. If only she had know how deep the bond truly was between the pair. If.

She made it to the starport and easily moved onto her docked ship from there. Thankfully her reputation allowed her the freedom of movement she needed without awkward questions that this woman had no intentions or desire to answer.

Once she was on board, Mirien quickly ran the ship through the usual checks. To make it harder to track her the second she hit hyperspace she changed the transponder codes to match with a very old alias, Mira Wessiri. Just one more thing Sio's Mirien had forgotten. Her destination was simple, the Core. From there she'd head to one of her favorite planets, Coruscant.

At least in hyperspace, she didn't worry about being followed so much. This gave her a brief moment of time to relax. Leaning back in her seat, she propped her feet up on the console and let her thoughts drift. Of course, they naturally fell on the places on Coruscant that she had loved so much, favored bars to stalk her prey - men. It hardly mattered what species, just so long as she could lure one out to his eventual doom. Taking days if not weeks to end the poor creature. Cruel, sure but she had her reasons and it was not like anyone missed these scum.

Mirien, the true Mirien,saw a brief moment where she might be able to regain control. Unfortunately, this person that she used to be, was equally determined to rule her for the time being. Still, she was tried all she could to resist the thoughts that seemed so pleasurable and tempting. This wasn't her, and she knew it. It hadn't quite crossed her mind, that this was her past self, divided from her current self evenly along the lines of amnesia. Now, that line was getting blurry and harder to find. And for the first time in a long time she caught a glimpse of the woman she had been. Things were starting to get a little clearer as Mirien was beginning to understand a small part of what was happening.

And because hyperspace travel runs at the speed of plot, we'll just pop out on the other side of this jump. Sure Coruscant might have been Sith controlled, this being of memories was so strongly dark-sided it was unlikely anyone would bat an eyelash at her presence on the city planet. Soon enough she landed her ship on the planet.

Stepping out of her craft, she took a deep breath of the polluted air. To her, that scent was so familiar, like a favored sweater. It was comfortable, natural. From there it would be a simple matter of following the familiar, follow the memories that were becoming clearer by the minute. It seemed her old self was finally waking from a long, long nap and eager to be back. Of course, she needed time to adjust and adapt. After all, nearly a decade had passed since Mirien had connected with this side of her. So much had changed in the galaxy. With that, she headed off to find her way down to the lower levels.

For the moment she was just intent on revisiting the places that meant the most to her. Places that the serial killer in her loved dearly. Just stepping onto Coruscant had brought back more memories and more pieces of the puzzle. She had figured the more places she visited that she knew well, the more of the old memories and the old her would return.

It seemed the walk down memory lane had started. This came as a rather fortunate event since it would mean she'd avoid going hunting for the time being. Which bought both Mirien and Siobhan time. Mirien time to push the old her aside and break from the memories and urges that she felt calling to her with such power that she could not ever remember experiencing before this moment. Siobhan time to catch up. After all, Siobhan would know she had an affinity for two places in the galaxy for reasons she never could explain. Coruscant and Alderaan.

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Mirien was on a walk down the memory lane, walking a fine line between being swallowed by her past self and maintain her identity. It was only fitting that a literal ghost from her past might choose this moment to manifest.


The face she wore was very different, but such mundane details would never fool Mirien. The Grand Inquisitor could always see through her with those piercing brown eyes that seemed able to bore into her black soul. Chestnut brown hair fell down past her shoulders, she had brown doe eyes. Today, her name was Caroline Groves. Her attire was as unimpressive as it was practical. Faded dark pants, boots, grey shirt, worn-in black leather jacket. A pistol was holstered on her thigh, a lightsabre concealed in the seam of her pants.


Her Force Signature was suppressed until she stepped out of the shadows, though she doubted she'd be able to obscure her presence from Mirien, even if she actually wanted to. Trepidation and more than a little fear swelled up inside her belly when she approached. So now was the time, the moment she'd anticipated, feared and hoped for since her return from Hell.


Would Mirien hear her out, would she end her right this moment? Or make her suffer first? Naamah was not sure which of those options she favoured, though she was certain she knew which one she deserved. Even with her weakened senses, she could perceive that something was...different about Mirien. Her aura seemed deeply disturbed. She could not quite place her finger on it, but she felt cold as ice. There was no warmth to be found in those eyes.


Good thing that Naamah had never feared the cold. "Hey, Mirien. Long time no see," the words were soft. Naamah made a pointed effort to keep her hands away from her weapons. Initiating first contact with Mirien was a bit like trying to talk to a magnificient predator and persuading it not to eat you.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


With barely a ripple, the sleek Revenant emerged from the fathomless realm of hyperspace above the city-planet of Coruscant. The stygium array, coupled with the finest engine emission controls meant the vessel was invisible to almost every observer.


The state-of-the-art navcomputer had allowed her to jump straight from Tygara to Coruscant without reverting to realspace to plot new coordinates. The Rekali-designed hyperdrive would enable it to avoid most early warning detection such as hyperspace monitors and hyperwave signal interceptors. At least that's what it said on the brochure. Today would be its first field as far as Siobhan was concerned.


No better way to test it than to jump straight into the belly of the beast, for Coruscant was still the centre of Sith power. The One Sith Empire might be crumbling, but the ecumenopolis crawled with Sith and their minions. Moreover, a Galactic Alliance invasion was imminent. Soon the planet would become a war zone. There was a significant risk of them being caught in the crossfire. Her face was very well-known and she did not have Mirien's skill at avoiding detection.


Siobhan did not give a feth. She was here for a woman she loved. Seemingly undetected, the Revenant passed through the planet's atmosphere. Massive skyscrapers rose into the sky, like latter-day towers of Bable that sought to grasp the heavens. Planetary defence cannon were pointed towards the sky, ready to unleash hell upon intruding capital ships. The entire planet had been scarred by war and tainted by Sith corruption, engulfing it in darkness. Mirien was out there, somewhere.

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Mirien was on her way through the spaceport. Oddly despite this Mirien not knowing Naamah, there was a sense of familiarity in the air of someone she knew. Or at least the Miri on the other side of the memory loss knew. Cold, icy eyes scanned the crowd looking for the source of what she was feeling. It would only take her a fraction of a second as the woman stepped from the shadows.

In an instant, out of a lack of trust, and slight paranoia she reached out to grab Naamah by the neck. If she could, she'd attempt to pin her against the wall. It was a mere attempt to gain control of the situation and figure out how she knew this person. Obviously, this woman knew her. It was now a matter of putting it all together.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked upon Naamah and searched her memories for the answer she needed. Finally, the old Mirien put it together. "Naamah." She growled. "Explain yourself. Now." Her tone was bitter, frosty and ever so sharp as she looked over the former Inquisitor. "You have exactly, sixty seconds. Because last I checked, a promise was made to kill you should I ever run into you again." Not that she would kill Naamah for Siobhan at this moment and keep her word. That simply wasn't in her nature right now. No, at this point she was more likely to do it because Naamah was getting in her way of her little trip down memory lane.

"Time is ticking. Don't waste it." She would, if Naamah didn't resist, keep her grip on the woman's throat to hold her in place and let her know exactly who controlled this situation.

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Coruscant. The gem of Core, the Jewel in the Galactic Emperor's Crown. There were so many poetic names to describe the city-planet. Many who set upon this world only beheld the sparkling lights, the towering skyscrapers and bright neon colours. They did not look past the veil to behold the corruption, the vice and the staggering poverty in the under levels. Today, Coruscant was still under the yoke of the One Sith. Their empire might be crumbling, but they still clung to power.


Dark clouds had gathered in the air, blotting out the sun. Tall spires rose into the sky, massive silver towers of duracrete and transparisteel. It was a labyrinth of shops, offices and residential quarters. Maintenance droids crawled over the transparisteel exterior, trying to clean them to perfection. However, as much as Coruscant sought to give the impression of normalcy, it could not succeed.


Siobhan spotted layers of debris left over from the One Sith's brief Civil War. The Dark Lord had been slain, the Dark Council took control and tried to continue with business as usual, as if nothing had happened. However, the sky that would in the past have been packed with air speeders was now eeriely clear. Patrols of white-clad stormtroopers had been stationed at critical checkpoints, stopping pedestrians and checking their papers. Surveillance drones hovered in the air, a constant reminder of the totalitarian police state that held the planet in a death grip.


It did not take long for Siobhan to run into the jackbooted guardians of fascism and oppression, as she made her way into the direction of the under levels. "Halt. Who goes there? This is a restricted sector," one of them barked. "I don't know you." He was an archetypical Sith, dressed in black robes, pants and a cape that fluttered in the breeze. His face was marked by intricate tattoos, a lightsabre hung on his belt. He had a squad of stormtroopers with him, the prototypical faceless soldiers cultivated by Sith and Imperialist regimes across the stars.


"You dare step in my way, minion?" Siobhan hissed venomously. Cold, icy eyes focused on the man. Her face was obscured by a Bando Gora mask that radiated significant dark power and projected an aura of unease. "I am Darth Astaroth. You better have a good excuse, worm." The real Astaroth had been a Bando Gora Warlord. She didn't need the mask anymore.


The Sith Acolyte visibly swallowed, but then his features hardened. "I know of no Darth Astaroth. I have been deputised by the Dark Council to keep order. I advise you to change your tone or...aaargh," his imperious tone was replaced by agonised screams when a blast of Sith Lightning shrieked from Siobhan's fingertips and hit him in the chest.


Screams, curses, spasms.


Finally, he stopped shaking. His body was turned into a charred husk. Smoke coiled off her hands. The stormtroopers had raised their blasters, but then visibly backed off. "Have I made myself clear? Good. Your commander was a traitor. Now I shall pass. I am on a mission of the highest importance," Siobhan announced pompously, with just a hint of sadism in her tone.


"Of course, mi'Lord," a Sith Apprentice, this one a woman with short blonde hair and dressed in a Sith officer's uniform, said submissively. She sounded so demure and eager to please. "Please forgive us. May we assist you in your task?"


"No. I have no need of your services. Return to your duties. Or else...," she let the threat hang, implication obvious in a voice that dripped with malevolence. The goons parted and she stepped past them, not paying them any further mind. She could hear noise coming from a nearby alley. Stormtroopers and secret police were raiding residential areas, draging out civilians to what must be a ghastly fate. Siobhan steeled herself, but ignored the sound of gunfire, pleas of fathers and mothers and the cries of children, though a part of her hated herself for being selfish and looking away. She was here for one woman. Nothing could sway her from her course.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


There were many things someone else in Naamah's position would have done. Managing the chokehold would have probably been impossible for someone at her skill level given the lightning speed Mirien moved. Someone else would have tried to defend themselves though. However, to put it plainly, Naamah was not psychologically capable of hurting Mirien. There were many reasons for this: The continued success of Inquisition indoctrination, the somewhat obsessive love she felt for her and, finally, the Clawdite's deep-seated conviction that she deserved to be punished for her sins.


Somehow, she failed to reflect on the fact that Mirien had a hand in turning her into a monster, though this neither let Naamah off the hook nor excused her horrific crimes since she'd chosen to walk that road. Regardless, she was overwhelmned by the Grand Inquisitor's strength and her throat was seized in a chokehold. The Clawdite struggled to breathe as oxygen failed to reach her lungs.


Her form shifted pathetically, for it was common for those of her kind to revert to their natural shape when exposed to extreme pain. "I...missed you," she gasped. The Mirien she faced reminded her of the old one from the Inquisition, and yet not. That Mirien had cared, though she'd seldom shown it. Now she frightened her former acolyte. "I...followed you. I was concerned. I'd...never try to hurt you." The clock was ticking, she could see the gate to Chaos open. "I'm...different now."

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Mirien's grip around Naamah's throat relaxed a touch, but only just. At least for the moment, she was listening to the woman. This version of herself, her thoughts wandered significantly away from the present, digging through old memories to place the girl precisely. All so she could play the role she had once played with her as not to appear any more different than she already did. Minions do have uses. She thought privately, reminding herself that it might not be prudent to kill this woman at this juncture. Perhaps there was a use for this one yet.

Her attention came back to Naamah's eyes. Wouldn't hurt me? That part did confuse her a little. She needed clarity and fast. Quickly she reached out with the force to brush against the shapeshifter's mind. This time, her touch wasn't gentle but rough, searching rapidly to find if the girl's words were truth or just another lie. She's not lying. It seems she has little reason to. Now what to do with her? I don't exactly want an audience with this. But her loyalty has the potential to be a useful tool for me. If anything she might make a good distraction along the way to keep others from interfering. "Yes, different. I see that." Miri absently commented, still somewhat lost in her own mind for the time being.

"Concerned? You should know better." She flatly said as she snapped out of her thoughts and back to the present situation. "I can take care of myself. I don't need help. From anyone." At last, she released Naamah's throat and withdrew her hand. "I'm just here to handle a private matter. I'm not in the moods for questions, or much else. But if in your stubbornness you want to follow along for the time being; maybe prove your worth, I may reconsider the promise that was made to end you."

"Either way, decide fast and follow. Or get out of my sight. Just a warning, after this moment, if you walk away, should I ever see you again, I will without hesitation kill you. Promises to keep. I'm sure you understand. This is the one final chance you have to prevent that certainty." This wasn't the Mirien Naamah once knew as the Grand Inquisitor. This was someone far colder, far more lethal, who hardly seemed to care if she needed to kill one of the beings she had held so dear in the Inquisition. "The choice is yours." Mirien didn't give her much time to answer before stepping back onto the street she'd been on to keep moving deeper into the lower levels of Coruscant.

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


The closer one got to the under levels, the more squalour and decay one found. Coruscant called itself the Jewel of the Core, but the truth was that this Corusca gem had a great many cracks. The One Sith Invasion of Coruscant, the Omega Protectorate's spectacularly failed liberation attempt and the Sith Civil War had left scars on the city. No one bothered to rebuild the lower levels when the smoke cleared. As long as Upper Coruscant looked shiny and glittered, all was well.


The deeper one ventured down, the more one would find ruin, decay and misery. Crumpled factories, seedy bars, squalid warehouses and crampled apartments. One could hear gunfire and beatings taking place in dark alleyways, see thugs patrolling on the streets or shaking down businesses. Protection money was paid to the authorities so that they looked the other way. Sith were notorious for not caring about people getting hurt unless it was their own, after all.


Siobhan's terentatek leather duster fluttered in the breeze. She'd foregone bringing her beskar armour because that would have caused unwanted attention, but the coat was an adequate protection against many direct Force attacks. The demonic Sith mask obscured her face, and resembled a human skull. She had the distinct impression that she was being watched as she made her way across the street. However, she did not care. Her focus was singular, her intent ironclad. She would find Mirien, and anyone who got in her way would die.


Once that course had been set, everything else became simple. Through the Force, she projected a dark aura that could be translated as 'don't mess with me or I'll rip your spine out and beat your brains out with it'. It belied the stormy turmoil deep inside her. She could feel Mirien's presence, though it was still distant: It was colder, more lethal and vicious. The Mirien she knew had been capable of cruelty, but never malevolent or cruel for the sake of it. The sensation was like the stab of an icy knife to the gut, but she moved on. Through the Force, she tried to reach out to the former Inquisitor.


A few credit chits found their way into her glove and were tossed into the direction of a begging woman and her son, both dressed in dirty rags and with desperation etched onto their faces. Doubtless if a certain old hag were here she'd queen about how helping people was a bad thing - and also complain if you didn't help them! - but Siobhan had no time for Kreia's insane troll logic and delusions of wisdom. She was getting closer as she moved down the rabbit hole.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzLEBtObYxU​

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


There was nothing gentle about Mirien's touch when the older woman pierced her mind. It was rough, invasive and painful. Naamah did the smart thing and did not try to resist. Firstly, it would only antagonise the clearly unbalanced woman even more, and secondly she would fail anyway because she her mental barriers were not strong enough to resist and she'd risk permanent damage.


Sometimes submission was simple self-preservation. She gasped for breath when Mirien released her, greedily sucking in air to fill her lungs with oxygen. Her hand moved up to soothe her abused, bruised throat. This Mirien was...different. As harsh, unyielding and cruel as the Grand Inquisitor had been, Naamah had never had the impression that Mirien did not care at all. Something must have happened to her. It felt like she was talking with an entirely different person. Fear spiked inside the shifter, jagged and sharp. It rushed through her body and drummed in her ears. It was almost suffocating.


Then she clamped down on it, even though her flight response had been triggered. She could not leave Mirien alone like this, especially since there was no telling what she might do or what trouble she would find herself in. Even if the shifter had absolutely no clue what she'd do if either scenario came to pass. Or if Mirien decided she'd outlived her usefulness. The girl was simply too loyal to turn away.


"Ok, I'll come with you," she said, sounding a bit hoarse. "You don't scare me off that easily. You do know this place is gonna be a war zone in, like, soon? There's a whole armada of Jedi jihadists coming this way. And these guys aren't hippies. They smite first, and ask questions later."

 

[Mirien Valdier]

"Wise," Mirien replied, not bothering to look back to Naamah at all. It seemed, for now, she would be useful enough to keep around. In her choice to follow, to help, she had found a use that this version of Mirien could tolerate. Though, she wouldn't hesitate to kill her if it came to that.

At the question, her eyes narrowed as she grew a little irritated. "Yes. I know. I don't frankly care. If anything it will be a distraction to those who would get in the way of my task here." She then shook her head, "With my skills, it is unlikely that any of those fools would manage to find me among all the other force users and Darksiders here. Small fish, big pond. It doesn't concern me." Now for the recent Miri, the Jedi coming here might have worried her a little. And she would have chosen not to linger here a second longer than she needed.

Finally, as they walked through the lower levels, the buildings shifted into a commercial district. Though many of the factories present were no longer in operation, and dark there were a few sporadic businesses that seemed to cling on to life.

Her eyes scanned back and forth as she moved. It didn't take long to come to a familiar warehouse finally. There was not a single light lit within, windows were broken and busted out and the doors many were falling from their hinges. It seemed that this particular building had long been abandoned. And the few buildings around this one appeared to have fallen to the same fate. That, of course, was why she had initially chosen this place to do her dirty work.

Without hesitation, she walked to the door and stepped through where it had fallen from its frame. Only then did she stop and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Her purpose here had been simple; she wanted to make sure it hadn't been disturbed and that it still could work for her prey this day.

Once her eyes had adjusted she moved forward into the dark building. There were all sorts of boxes, and shipping containers laying around. There were old conveyer belts that had collected a massive amount of dust, and many had been stripped of parts and anything that might be of value. As she came to a set of stairs leading down to the basement, a fond smile crossed her lips as memories flooded back of the things she had done here.

Our dear Mirien tried her best to push away the memories, fighting to gain control of her body. The memories she was seeing were horrific, even to her. The kind of things she saw being done with her own hands terrified her. For the moment, all she could do was watch as they descended the stairs.

Coming into the basement things grew darker, and here the Darkside of the force seemed to be collecting. Something wicked indeed had happened here, without a doubt Naamah would notice. Mirien finally came to a spot where chains dangled from the ceiling, and if one looked hard enough, you could see the blood stains left behind on the floor, the walls, the chains. Anyone else would have been frightened beyond belief, but this Miri seemed to enjoy. The dark haired woman reached up and ran her fingers across one of the chains rather fondly. It seemed everything was still here, still in its place. "This will do." She whispered softly, talking mostly to herself.

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


The trip into the nightmarish basement was a walk down the memory lane for Naamah. Horrific memories that she'd tried to bury resurfaced. She'd been here before. Not in this place, not on this planet. But she'd been exactly like this. The Dark Side was strong here, whispers spoke of unconscionable horrors and wickedness. Dried blood strains were left behind on the floor, the walls and chains: Innocent blood. It looked...exactly like her lair on Terminus.


For the first time since escaping from the depths of hell, Naamah was frightened. She was frozen with fear, but she could not turn away. Realisation hit her with the force of a freight tram collision. "You and I...we were the same," she whispered quietly.


"Mirien...please don't go back to that. Don't hurt anyone. You're better at this. You don't torment innocent people," desperation was strong in her voice. Naamah had gone to a very terrible place when she was pulled into the Netherworld. She did not want Mirien to go there, too.


"You can fight it. If you want to hurt someone, hurt me. I deserve it anyway." No longer caring about her own safety, she gently took Mirien's hand. Would it help? Probably not. She expected to be choked or worse. "W-when I came out of hell, you inspired me to try and do good. You're the only family I've got left. I...love you."

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Here, the darkness was so strong that it clogged the air. It was not primal, but simply malevolent and wicked. Horrible things had taken place here. Out of all the abandoned buildings, there was one in particular Siobhan was drawn to. The aura surrounding it was like a miasma of the Dark Side. She was inexorably drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Above all, she could sense that Mirien was inside it, though she no longer recognised her. The woman she loved felt sick, twisted and cruel.


Siobhan felt a stab of trepidation when she reached the door. She feared no Sith, no legions of stormtroopers or Jedi jihadists, but she feared what horrors might lurk down there. Above all, she feared losing Mirien to the darkness. She thrust these thoughts out of her mind. Her girl was here, her girl needed her. Ergo she would help her, by any means necessary. She was getting her girl back, come heaven or high water.


The door broke down and Siobhan marched inside, ignoring the boxes, shipping containers and dust-coated conveyor belts. She was drawn to the basement and so she headed there, pulling the Sith mask from her face. There was nothing subtle about her entry as she hastened down the stairs. Undoubtedly, Mirien would feel her through their bond, which even the resurgence of her evil, past self could not extinguish. Perhaps it would prove to be a saving grace. Or so Siobhan hoped at least. The door opened and she stepped into the basement of horrors.

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Mirien had heard Naamah and took a good long moment to bother to reply. She sighed, and straightened herself out as she turned back to face the woman. "No. You don't know what you are talking about." She firmly said.

"All men are guilty. I've yet to meet an innocent one." Clearly, she believed every last word she spoke. Her tone was so sharp, so harsh. Even as much as this Mirien tried to mask it, there was an unspoken hurt behind her words. Behind that anger, and hurt, there were hints of a girl who had gone through too much. A girl that had finally snapped when she realized she could fight back and take out her anger on every last male in existence. She didn't need a reason beyond sex to hunt, torture, and outright murder men.

She shook her head, her focus returning to Naamah. "Men are never innocent." Miri hissed. "I didn't just choose without purpose. You might have, I never did. I had plenty of reason, purpose."

It was now that her bond gave her warning of the woman coming. Unfortunately, it was already too late for her to make a run for it and escape. After all, she wasn't in the mood to have to fight with someone like Siobhan to gain her freedom to go about the great hunt. Now her exit would be blocked by both Naamah and Siobhan.

Hearing Naamah even suggest she use her to take out her urges on, only drew a scoff from her. "Deserve it? No. Women don't deserve any of this. Never."

Of course the last words were the last Mirien expected. She snorted and shrugged, "I'm not the woman you love. You don't know me. How could you possibly love someone you don't even know?" Cruel words, but in the old Mirien's mind they were necessary. Now her attention turned to the stairs, knowing a major kink in her plans was about to arrive, and she was going to have to do something about it.

"Now, I have things to do. I don't suggest getting in the way." She warned as she took a step towards the stairs.

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


There was an expression of hurt on Naamah's face. she could not mask the fact that Mirien's barbs had upset her. The problem was that she agreed with many things Mirien had said. This complicated her plan a bit. Someone else would have launched into a speech about how not all men were bad, but Naamah did not think that would be effective. Moreover, she didn't really believe it. Ergo it would be a hard sell, even for someone with a higher persuasion skill.


"Most men are pigs, yes. Never had much use for them. But that's not the point, is it? Someone hurt you, right? Who did it? We can find him. And make him suffer. You and me, as it should be," her voice had regained some of confidence and lost its pleading note.


"You're right: There are many things I don't know about you, but I probably know you better than...anyone. And I've always been loyal to you. So hear me out. I'd follow you to hell if needed," she stiffened when she felt the dark presence approach, then saw Siobhan Kerrigan step through the door.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Thusly, Siobhan finally appeared on the scenery. "Sorry, love. As much as I believe men should be castrated, I got to interrupt your hunt." This was probably not the best way to initiate conversation. Ah, well, she'd recently levelled up and invested extra skill points in charisma.


That had to count for something, right? Probably not. She spotted Naamah and shot her a glare. Her jaw tightened. What the hell was she doing her? And wasn't she supposed to be an evil serial killer? Today was far too confusing for her. So Siobhan finally decided to focus on the important stuff in this thread. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood and death.


"You remember that day in the villa when we were constructing that holocron with Coryth? We relived the memory of Coryth wiping out a town after all the hell that monster Xerexes put her through. She was hurt badly, she was angry, terrible things happened. You had the strength to resist the temptation to fall into the abyss. I did not," her tone was solemn and serious.


"I went nuts. I was on the brink of becoming the dark, horrifying force I opposed. You know who saved me? You. Time for me to return the favour. So you and I are gonna have a chat." And I'm gonna try to restrain my urge to shoot the lizard over there, she thought to herself, but kept her thoughts hidden.

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Mirien's icy glare locked on Naamah for a moment. "It's not your business. Not your problem. It's mine, and I will finish it my way." She snarled in reply. Mirien wasn't in the mood for chatting much at this point. You're just a convenient way to buy time should I need it. That thought she didn't voice aloud. "You can follow, but you aren't stopping me. Get in the way, and don't think for a second I wouldn't end you." This person standing here now definitely wasn't the Mirien either Siobhan or Naamah knew.

Anger flashed in her eyes as she turned towards the new member to this party. "You're not stopping this." She growled and stepped towards Siobhan, fully intent to push her way by the woman and get out of the basement with as little damage done to her person as possible.

Her eyes searched over Siobhan for a moment, calculating her next words and move. "That woman is not the same woman that is standing here. I'd have thought you'd have figured that out by now. Bonded as we are." She snapped. Mirien took a few more steps closer to Siobhan to get to the stairs. "And I don't have time for a chat with the likes of you." And now she'd try her best to get past Siobhan on the stairs. It was time to seek to escape. Maybe she'd get lucky, maybe not.

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


"I have. I wasn't talking to you, lover. I was talking to the real one," Siobhan spoke sadly. It hurt, it really hurt to see Mirien like this. It hurt even more to raise her hand against her, yet it was what Siobhan needed to do. However, she was resolute. Like it or not, Mirien was not getting out. "Your new memories should've taught you not to underestimate me."


Simple words were not going to bring her Mirien back - and that was what mattered. Even if it meant tolerating the psycho lizard for the time being. Once that goal had been set and defined as the sole relevant directive, everything else was simple. Abruptly, telekinetic power would seize Mirien and seek to push her back and restrain her movements with invisible chains of phrik. Siobhan did not want to cause injury, but she was not letting her go.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


The hand that raised the blaster was shaky and quivered. It took all of Naamah's self-control to take aim and squeeze the trigger. Mirien had been a presence for so much of her life. The presence that defined it, in good or bad.


She was also the only person Naamah had ever loved. It was not the sort of love that led to candlelight dinners, cuddling and whispering of sweet nothings. Both of them were damaged and messed up. Mirien had hurt Naamah, the Clawdite had done horrible things she could not forgive herself for. Yet she loved Mirien...At this point, her heart went cold and her Inquisition training took over. So she fired two stun bolts at the former Grand Inquisitor's back. Simple, direct, to the point.


The ground trembled, quaking as if struck by tremors, sirens howled, screams could be heard outside. The Galactic Alliance's invasion had begun. They needed to get out of here fast before they got caught in the crossfire.