Antoir Setrrin
I've Met My End
844 ABY: The Outer Rim
There was a need for 'heroes'. Perhaps there always was a need for people to step up, to play the role of a seeker of justice. There will always be villains for them to fight. Sometimes, of course, the lack of champions became a serious thing. While the darkness could never fully rid the universe of light, it wasn't uncommon for it to seem that way. As the metaphoric tides of war shifted, and the balance of power toppled over, the quote in quote forces of evil could seem so very, very close to winning. But they never truly did 'win'. No, because there's always a need for heroes. And there will always be those foolish enough to try and fill the gaps. Of course, the heroes never really succeed in their tasks either. One cannot exist without the other, or so they say. Sometimes the bad guys will push the galaxy to it's breaking point. Other times the good guys will manage to seemingly wipe the threat from existence. Oh, if only... Alas it is not meant to be.
Ven'Rain Sekairo knew this well.
Yet still she wished to do everything in her power to push back the Sith. Maybe she wouldn't do much in the end, but still she felt the need to try, if only to get the galaxy a little closer to a balanced state. She knew that she'd probably die trying. Not everyone was going to make it out of the war- not even all of those who had survived the last one. Good, strong people were going to die. Hell, plenty of them already had. Part of her was admittedly saddened by that fact. But the rest of her had moved right past whatever feelings she had, knowing that she couldn't afford the distraction. Her own experiences with death made things easier. Still she could remember the sting of lightning, the smell of burnt flesh, and the taste of blood rising in her mouth. And still she knew the look that had crossed Ashin's face when it had happened. It had been a horrible experience. Yet she had gotten past it, coming back into a new body, marching on almost as if she hadn't been temporarily damned to Chaos.
She'd had help then. Now... well, at the moment she didn't have anyone by her side. When the Protectorate had started to slip away she had bailed, acting as a coward, slipping away into the Outer Rim. Far into the outer rim. Ventasia was off who-knows-where, Circe was out of reach, and Ire was, well... Ire had become an enemy. The Mad Merc was alone. It wasn't a sensation that was new, or peculiar, or troubling to her. Ven knew that she'd need assistance eventually, of course. That's where the other 'heroes' would come in. They'd team up to take down the Sith, one way or another. Though she didn't know who 'they' would end up being. Who could she go to? Were there any people who she still trusted?... People who also trusted her? Something told her that finding a group to work with wouldn't be easy. She had a long history of burning valuable bridges. While the state of the galaxy was desperate, she wasn't sure how many people would be willing to ignore past wrong-doings.
In the mean time she'd have to find a way to make it on her own.
First step? Finally replace that old armor of hers...
There was a need for 'heroes'. Perhaps there always was a need for people to step up, to play the role of a seeker of justice. There will always be villains for them to fight. Sometimes, of course, the lack of champions became a serious thing. While the darkness could never fully rid the universe of light, it wasn't uncommon for it to seem that way. As the metaphoric tides of war shifted, and the balance of power toppled over, the quote in quote forces of evil could seem so very, very close to winning. But they never truly did 'win'. No, because there's always a need for heroes. And there will always be those foolish enough to try and fill the gaps. Of course, the heroes never really succeed in their tasks either. One cannot exist without the other, or so they say. Sometimes the bad guys will push the galaxy to it's breaking point. Other times the good guys will manage to seemingly wipe the threat from existence. Oh, if only... Alas it is not meant to be.
Ven'Rain Sekairo knew this well.
Yet still she wished to do everything in her power to push back the Sith. Maybe she wouldn't do much in the end, but still she felt the need to try, if only to get the galaxy a little closer to a balanced state. She knew that she'd probably die trying. Not everyone was going to make it out of the war- not even all of those who had survived the last one. Good, strong people were going to die. Hell, plenty of them already had. Part of her was admittedly saddened by that fact. But the rest of her had moved right past whatever feelings she had, knowing that she couldn't afford the distraction. Her own experiences with death made things easier. Still she could remember the sting of lightning, the smell of burnt flesh, and the taste of blood rising in her mouth. And still she knew the look that had crossed Ashin's face when it had happened. It had been a horrible experience. Yet she had gotten past it, coming back into a new body, marching on almost as if she hadn't been temporarily damned to Chaos.
She'd had help then. Now... well, at the moment she didn't have anyone by her side. When the Protectorate had started to slip away she had bailed, acting as a coward, slipping away into the Outer Rim. Far into the outer rim. Ventasia was off who-knows-where, Circe was out of reach, and Ire was, well... Ire had become an enemy. The Mad Merc was alone. It wasn't a sensation that was new, or peculiar, or troubling to her. Ven knew that she'd need assistance eventually, of course. That's where the other 'heroes' would come in. They'd team up to take down the Sith, one way or another. Though she didn't know who 'they' would end up being. Who could she go to? Were there any people who she still trusted?... People who also trusted her? Something told her that finding a group to work with wouldn't be easy. She had a long history of burning valuable bridges. While the state of the galaxy was desperate, she wasn't sure how many people would be willing to ignore past wrong-doings.
In the mean time she'd have to find a way to make it on her own.
First step? Finally replace that old armor of hers...