And All from a Glass of Beer

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

They'd shared a drink on some Fringe border world, she honestly forgot which. She'd made her interests clear; he'd made his response just as legible. At her insistence, he'd walked away with a piece of top-secret Fringe tech, that the Mandalorians had since used to great effect.

She'd kept the glass.

In a sense, she was in the insurance business, life insurance. In a sense. Her conquest of Soledad, her experimentation on Kelsier -- her interest in genetic manipulation had been substantial and long-term. And among all those business projects had been a handful of personal experiments.

Not that she'd made this one for personal purposes. What attracted her about Gil Skirata had little to do with his looks; she was no Pygmalion. But just as a half dozen of her were on ice thanks to project SLATE, she liked keeping a contingency plan or two around.

Invocation of spirits was, all things considered, pretty much the only aspect of Sith magic that worked well for her. Invocation from afar, for a non-Force-wielder, was pretty much impossible, but she'd found a subbasement in Cinnagar that fit a small stasis pod -- not far from where he'd fallen.

The body wasn't stock Skirata, though his DNA was the base material, to ease the transition. Witch crafting had been applied, toughening his muscles, adding bulk and height to his frame, sharpening the clone's mind. The brain held only the loosest form of flash-learning, just muscle memory. The personality, the personal memory, ideally all of that would come with the spirit.

The Dark Side flared around her, channeled through her. She whispered an incantation as she shrugged and bent to kiss him awake. Tradition was a witch thing. Every little bit helped.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The Manda.

It was truly a place of beauty. Or rather, the Manda was everything, and everything together made a picture that not even the Seven Corellian Hells could tarnish. He had yet to see or find his wife, but he knew he had an eternity to find her. As he traveled through the Galaxy he could feel his son Ordo join him, and then all was the Manda.

His blissful eternity was cut short however. He could feel darkness inch its way, slithering its fingers into the Manda. Tendrils of the Dark Side. He could feel all of his being, now one with the Manda fight the snakes back. The corruption spread, the tendrils becoming chains that lashed out at anything and everything. Confusion spread throughout the Manda, it split and reformed as the chains searched. Searched among the mass of energy, ripping apart the souls that did not satisfy its objective.

In the confusion he became himself for a split second, and he saw his wife reach out to him, fear burned into her eyes as the chains ripped her soul to shreds. The chains latched onto his soul, the hounds finding their prey. He shouted in protest and anger at the complete destruction of the one thing he looked forward to in his afterlife.

His screaming soul was ripped from the Manda. The presence of the Dark Side thickened, nearly tangible as the forsaken Mand'alor was dragged from his resting place. What the Manda truly was was only for those great Philosophers to guess. But one thing that was certain was that it was as different from the Force as Chaos and when it was acted upon by an outside force it retaliated violently. In protest the air began to crackle. Energy leaped through the air with the intent of destroying whoever had tried to meddle in a business they did not truly understand.

But alas, the Force when wielded with knowledge such as that of a great like Rave was a powerful tool. A bolt of black lighting struck the stasis pod, bringing the roof above down upon the clone. Tortured and warped, the soul that was once Gilamar Skirata's was no more. Only vague memories and residual feelings left.

The Clone's eyes shot open, the stasis pod cracked and buried. The room became silent.

Has the witch succeeded...?
[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

She straightened from the stasis pod eyes inscrutable -- and turned it on, freezing the newly incarnated Skirata in a temporal suspension field. Cinnagar was occupied territory; they needed to move, and move quickly, regardless of whether she'd succeeded. There was no time to know for sure.

Virulent green smoke rose from a tureen near the pod; she upended it over the glasteel. Water of Life sluiced across the pod, then over her. Within moments, she and the pod were both soaked and invisible. A hovertruck, like any other in Cinnagar, conveyed her and the pod away, as she did her best to mute the aftershock of her magic. Then again, a burst of Sith magic wasn't an uncommon thing on Cinnagar.

Only once they were well away, aboard the Lethewalker and a couple of light years off Koros Major, did the freshly visible Nightsister deactivate the freshly visible stasis pod.

"Good morning, Gilamar Skirata."

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

The pod began to hiss, waking the man within. The stasis pod had scantly begun to open before a bare foot slammed into the glassteel.

Thump! Thump!

Memories flooded the newly conscious mind, matched with flash training and the distressed, warped soul of Gilamar Skirata. Whatever Rave had created, it wanted out. His nostrils flared and his neck became flushed as he bashed his foot into what had been his prison for so long.

Thump!

With a final kick, the durasteel hinges snapped, the door flew forward past Rave and into the medical droid at the end of the room. A sizzle snap of broken servos and snapped wires resounded through the room. His bare body, hot to the touch from his hyperactive body the miniscule water vapor in the air of the ship hissed around him. A fresh hand gripped the edge of the pod as he hoisted himself from the pod, his green-gray eyes scanning the room and falling to Rave. The one whom birthed him.

"Mother," he said simply. "We both know Skirata is a dead man," His voice struck him as strange. His entire life he had only heard the voices of those in memories that were not his. Rolling his head and shaking out his hair, his bare feet slapped along the durasteel as he strode over to Rave. He towered over her, six foot three inches to her five-five frame.

Despite renouncing his "donor's" name he had yet to choose one for himself. This was a confusing time.
[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Mordecai Tal'kyr"]

Intense and clinical curiosity subsumed her other feelings. Her sense of the spiritual told her that, frankly, this wasn't quite what she'd meant to do. A composite being like this offered unique advantages and unguessable weaknesses.

Fascinating.

She dug deep, like a Dark Lord searching for a Darth name to grant a student. The Dark Side could offer revelation, and even if it was just the Force reflecting her subconscious, it had its uses. "Tal'kyr -- a bloody end. Mordecai, for a man I knew once. This is your name."

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

He rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He liked the name, it rolled off the tongue. It would do fine. Looking down to his "Mother" he nodded in recognition. This was the beginning of his new life, and what a life it would be. But how could he start, begin his new life with this imbalance?

His "Father" was dead for all intents and purposes, yet his "Mother" still lived and breathed free air. With a sly grin and a flash of murderous intent, the man's thick arm shot out and attempted to grip her thin neck. What had driven him to do this? Maybe it was the anger the shattered soul of Gilamar held towards the woman that damned him and stole his afterlife away. Or maybe it was something much more sinister.

With his hands around her neck he could end her in an instant with the strength she had given him. Break bone and tear through flesh rendering her a less than recognizable heap.
[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Mordecai Tal'kyr"]'s hand closed around her neck, and shock turned to rage almost before his fingers locked. Rave had pretty much exactly one offensive ability, and one she'd adapted to a variety of circumstances, made instinctive.

Description would take away from the sheer split-second immediacy of it, taint the moment with recollection of the long years since the first time she'd tasted Sith Lightning at the age of five. The long years since she'd vowed she'd never be subservient to electricity again. In its way, it was as ingrained in her as the middle-aged memories that had been forced upon her at that same age, and she'd known life and death long before she hit puberty.

Her vision grayed out, and ten thousand volts exploded out of her jugular.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Surprise gripped his face, his expression similar to that of a pup's first experience with pain. After all, this was his first time experiencing any sort of pain. He growled in protest and flung the source of pain across the room on reflex, but the electricity had already engulfed him. His muscles spasmed and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he lost consciousness for a moment, his heavy form landing with a thud on the cold durasteel floor.

Memories flashed through his head, the first time Gilamar had experienced Force Lighting, and all over again his body contracted and his muscles shook in simulated agony. He shouted in protest, writhing on the floor, the hand that had gripped Rave's neck smoldering. He knew he would heal eventually, but for now it would give him no end of pain.

Groaning as he slowly came to, he pressed his left hand to the cold floor, the sensation bringing relief. His muscles shook in protest as he struggled to push himself up and looked with blurry vision in the direction that he had involuntarily thrown his "Mother" A sheepish, tired grin inched its way across his face before he pushed the rest of his body up, holding his right arm which was still spasming. He couldn't tell if she was dead or not.

"Mother..." he called into the darkness, "Are you still alive?"

[member="Rave Merrill"]

 

[Velok the Younger]

[member="Mordecai Tal'kyr"]

This portion of the Lethewalker's lights flicked back on, and Rave got a glance at herself in a surgical mirror. The lightning had shredded the ooglith cloaker all around her neck, leaving her face with a ragged bottom edge. She stripped it off with a pained grunt, revealing the Vongshaped, scarified true face beneath. She grimaced, speaking with a rasp.

"I'm here, Mordecai." She contemplated more lightning, but that should be enough. For now, at least. "There's a shuttle in the hangar. Go where you will, do what you will. I owe you that much."