L O S T
Panatha
Four long years since his abandonment.One might suspect that after having been continuously let down by every parental figure, every guardian, in his life, Kobe Seren might have taken the news of Kaine's disappearance better than he had. Found a way to work it to his advantage. Used it to grow from.
Instead, what had he actually accomplished?
He had found the world of Aurum, where the holocron he still to this day carried had led him. He had fallen amidst fields of corn and barley, where a Darksider had ridiculed him. Yet he had not risen even then. He had subjugated a wayward Sith, yet released her just days later having lost his nerve.
In the end, only the boy remained.
The child who had watched the Cityscape of Coruscant come to life each night from the skyscraper he called home. Who had drawn crayon masterpieces to show parents who never visited. Who had tried to walk the path of the Jedi, just as they had, to make them proud. And who had ultimately fallen prey to his own anger, following the death of all he held dear.
Somehow he had made it back, full circle, to the very beginning.
To Kaine.
The one who had started this whole sordid affair the day he stole away Cassius. Who had ruined his parents lives, to the point where they couldn't bear to look upon the son which remained. Who had taunted his Mother to her death. The man who had finally broken the child who had tried pathetically to avenge her.
Panatha, it seemed, had returned to his iron fist.
The moment that The Haunter touched down he knew he would not have long before the guards came. Kaine was perceptive, and those who were trained to work for him were expected to be moreso. The ship was Kaine's own, no doubt he would recognize the markings... As would the ground crew.
Swiftly descending the ramp, Kobe pulled out the blaster he had been using since he'd cast aside the Lightsaber Kaine had watched him construct and paced toward the Palace. Beneath the mask his eyes narrowed, and when a Guard finally stepped forth to try and stop him he simply lifted one hand and shot a bolt into his chest. When Kobe sensed the slightest twitching of fingertips the other hand rose to grasp at the throat of the nameless man with an unseen force, pushing the air from his lungs.
He was already feet away when the body slumped to the ground.
As always the interior halls of the Palace were dead. But he sensed the eyes of the Guard regardless. Despite having heard the blaster fire none stepped forth from their shadowy posts, and as a result Kobe made it to the gargantuan doors of the Throne Room in record time.
Another press of the Force had them flown inward with a beastly echo. One, two, three large strides, and the boy was already nearing the center of the room. His eyes flicked upward, to the risen dais, while the blaster arm lifted once again to focus on the throne.
The child said nothing. He waited for any signs of life, if one could call the existence of Vornskr such, and even the slightest hint had him pull the trigger.
He was not here to talk, this boy of few words. He was here for the head of Kaine Zambrano.