Betrayal

[Ras'kala'han]

This is what it is like to be Trystis Ray right now - You are alone. You left Coruscant in secret, discarding your own personal shuttle in favor of a stolen delivery freighter three clicks away to avoid tracking. And if you thought for hours upon hours - and you have - you could not name a single being that you would call your friend.

You are broken. After an unintended slight, you were totally humbled before the awesome power of the Dark Side. That is to say, your only friend. But you have no friends. The Force is in you, and of you. It cannot be your friend because you are the Force. But you have lingering mental damage, and even now as you float through a nebulae in the middle of nowhere, the stress of what you just did sends a lancing pain through your skull. It tastes sweet.

You are hungry. For power, to solve the ineffable contradiction of your own weakness. For revenge against the man who hurt you. And for the destruction of an Order gone corrupt - in the bad way.

You are desparate. A rebel distress beacon is in your hands, activated. You had kept it with the intent of currying favor with the Lords by using it to set a trap. But now, on a defenseless ship, you are hoping to find them for another reason. [member=Oddball]. [member="Sannika Brynn"]. [member="Juwiela Melec"]. The names of your enemies. You are going to ask to join them.

And you are insane. This is an objective fact.

Spoiler: OOC

After a long hiatus from posting, I am back. I will be editing my profile to clean it up and update it shortly.

 

[Oddball]

[member="Trystis Ray"]

"Sir, there's been a rebel distress beacon activated! Orders?" A communications officer said to a space fairing oddball.

"Take us in." he responded

Colonel Oddball of the Rebel Alliance had seen a lot in his day, from the attacks on Geonosis, to the raids on the Sith, Primeval, Techno Union, he had done a lot of battling for his time as a clone and he had learned more than just how to be a better soldier. He had learned how to dress casually, how to watch sports, how to love. His girlfriend [member="Juwiela Melec"] aka Rogue One or "Rouge Leader" as everyone in the alliance liked to poke fun at her with. She'd been a driving force for him to learn, but out of everyone that had helped him there was one event that caused all of this change in him.

Csilla. Csilla had been where he was captured by the Sith to be Shanghaied over to Coruscant for a week of torture before his escape that day, and the untimely demise of [member="Dave"] at the hands of proton torpedo the Sith had fired, poor extra crispy bastard. Regardless it was a day that set off a chain of events for not only him, but for a [member="Trystis Ray"] as well.

Perhaps it was fate that brought the two together again, or maybe the universe being as chaotic as it was just decided to randomly see the two warriors back to the other. Regardless of the reason the clone watched hyperspace exit around him to the location where the sith was staying. A defenseless cargo ship by the looks of things.

"Rebel ship, what is your emergency." Oddball said over the comms from the rebel frigate.

 

[Juwiela Melec]

"Yes, I'm aware that it could be a trap. Yes, I know we all have prices on our heads. No, I don't want a repeat of Coruscant, but--" And so went the conversation with command, however around in circles it was currently going. This went against the better judgment of everyone in the Rebel Alliance, and most certainly her own. Early on she had learned what the dangers of any supposed claims of peace in a failed negotiation, and after the silence from their enemies that had grown to an uneasy stalemate none of them were wont to pursue a supposed distress beacon that was looking more and more suspicious every second. But they would move. They had to, just in case.

It had become a rote routine to zip into her flightsuit and prepare her fighter for eventual takeoff, and regardless of the speed Juwiela always used that prep time as a meditative trance in order to put her focus where it belonged: on the mission. Butterflies in her stomach were a thing of the past, and nerves hardly took their toll on her anymore. She merely communicated her intentions to Admiral [member="Krasnaya Xue"] as she strode toward the hangar, that same distress beacon still ringing through their comms. "Admiral, I'm taking a small dispatch of fighters to investigate this beacon. Something doesn't feel right, but we can't just wait around for a fight." They had all tired of that long ago.

Once in the cockpit she ran through pre-flight procedures all but subconsciously, registering the go signal from the ground crew with a nod and taking off, taking a few moments to retrieve the coordinates of this supposed emergency. Taking a breath she exhaled slowly. However much she didn't trust any of this, it was within their nature as Rebels to take care of these things themselves, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. She punched the coordinates into her modified navigation system, easing the vessel into hyperspace, the ship blinking into existence at the specified location after an undetermined amount of time. There was no firefight, so that was a start.

Her arrival had timed almost exactly with [member="Oddball"]'s inquiry over an open frequency, and she switched to an encrypted signal so the two could communicate directly, "This is Sharps. What's the status of the unidentified vessel?" But she saw it only seconds after she had spoken, a signature she would recognize no matter how distorted within the Force. Sith.

[member="Trystis Ray"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Trystis cursed under his breath when he heard [member=Oddball]'s voice transmitted to his ship. A soldier who, in his experience, had a body count that was as high as his temper was short. And dead in the Force, if the after-battle reports he had read were correct, so no mental winks and nudges through the Force to put him in a more forgiving mood for having captured him and shipped him off to be tortured.

Fortunately, there was no guarantee that he would remember his voice, so - then, he felt a familiar tingle of mutual recognition in the Force. Some Jedi, or some thing had felt him, and he it.

He mentally drafted a lengthy list of fabrications and facts, a tragic cause, an extravagant tale of the torture inflicted upon him - but no, that wouldn't work. Each excuse offered would only make them trust him less. Now was the time for, sadly, honesty.

"I am Trystis Ray, a Sith. We fought on Csilla, and events afterwards lead to me parting ways with my Order. I wish to defect to you." Even in a moment of internal turmoil, his voice was a composed purr. He paused. "I am unarmed." A lie. A Sith is never unarmed. And no matter what happened, he still had that.

[member="Juwiela Melec"]

 

[Oddball]

[member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Juwiela Melec"]

Oddball was surprisingly calm about hearing that [member="Trystis Ray"] was hailing them and wanted to go turncoat, or maybe it was that he was so full of rage he had gone full circle with rage that it didn't matter anymore. But it took every fiber in the clone's body not to do his duty and blow the Sith into the cold and unforgiving blackness that was space. Instead Oddball rubbed at his chin with his robotic hand and gave the order.

"Bring us in to dock, and someone grab my shotgun." Oddball said as he stood up from the command chair.

Dressed in his Katarn clone commando armor, Oddball had everything he needed. The Spaarti Creations Ysalamir and armored nutrient pack strapped to his back today was going to be a completely different fight if the Sith wanted one. The frigate docked with the cargo ship and the tube extending out pressurized to allow the clone to walk through it in his hands a semi automatic eight gauge shotgun that was ready to put holes in people. Once reaching the door the Ysalamir's nullification bubble extended into the ship and the clone knocked on the door to see if Trystis was going to go easily.

"Open up Trystis! We've got you metaphorically surrounded." Oddball said as he tapped on the glass.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Trystis gathered himself for a moment, then pressed the button to let [member="Oddball"] in. He hasn't killed me yet? Promising. Walking slowly and purposefully, with both hands raised above his head, the Sith began to leave to meet his captors, his recruiters. Then, he felt it - the Force-less sphere of existential nothingness. And suddenly, the headache was a lot less manageable.

"I - " Trystis tried to say, but instead a pained gasp came out. And what were these black spots swimming in his vision, this feeling of raw, awful pain. How long has it been since I last ate? Slept? The answer was four days. Hatred is quite the drug, and this was a man who had been sky high on it for a long time. Stepping back into the cockpit quickly, Trystis crawled up from the floor, not quite conscious of having fallen to his hands and knees. He couldn't let them see him like this.

Hoisting himself into the chair, he realized that the sphere hadn't quite reached into where he was. It was plain, yet someone in touch with the Dark Side could make any seat they were in a throne, just from the way the held themselves. Feeling his focus come rushing back to him, he held his hands in surrender still, staying seated as it once again passed over him. His false, chipper smile faded into quite the real frown of frustration as the emptiness once again washed over him - one he kept involuntarily as the clone stepped into his field of view.

"Look, here I am. I'm quite surprised you didn't just murder me outright. It's - " Once again, a fiery flash went off in his skull. He paused, took a deep breath, then continued. "It's true. I had a very good explanation, but as you can see, that - damn it! That abomination is making it a bit difficult to articulate."

[member="Juwiela Melec"], [member="Krasnaya Xue"]

 

[Juwiela Melec]

When no sarcastic response was returned through the comms Juwiela took it as a sign that [member="Oddball"] was preoccupied and took it upon herself to land in the docking bay of the Rebel frigate that had docked with the unknown transport that held a supposedly turncoat Sith, from the chatter she had picked up over the unsecured frequency. That was all fine and dandy, but they would still treat this as a life-or-death scenario, as that it most definitely was, no matter how harmless this quasi-enemy appeared. Without pause she vaulted from the cockpit after unzipping her flightsuit and pulling off her helmet, leaving her in what casual Alliance uniform she had donned before, blaster pistol at her hip as a precaution as it almost always was.

It quickly reached her that the colonel had already disembarked onto the enemy ship, something she would have much rather had him wait to do, but she knew he could take care of himself well enough. Without breaking stride she picked up an AR-47 from one of the weapon's racks that donned the walls, slinging it over her shoulder after checking both the clip and the safety. Even from this distance she knew Oddball had brought an Ysalamir with him, which would inevitably render her entirely sightless, but the Rebels learned to take every precaution regardless of the scenario. This was just another moment when training and instinct both took over even if it was just momentarily.

Clipped and precised steps - a military stride she had picked up over the years - took her to the cockpit of the vessel, allowing her to catch the last few words spoken by one [member="Trystis Ray"]. For a few moments she stood in silence, allowing time for her hearing to adjust and compensate for her lack of sight, a trick she had learned the hard way after being taken prisoner and restricted from the energy field that allowed her to see for just short of a month. The corners of her mouth tightened just slightly, the last two cybernetic digits of her right hand twitching involuntarily. A small price compared to what the other Rebel in the room had paid, but there was no proper levy to be put on torture. "I'd say you have more important things to worry about than the lizard." A smile manifested as a minute upturn of her lips. "At least you can see."

 

[Oddball]

[member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Juwiela Melec"]

Oddball stepped into the ship and made sure Trystis was right out of range of the Ysalamir's null bubble, it was almost comical the situation. How the tables had turned, or was it the shoe on the other foot? Or was it a bingo? That's how you said it right? A bingo? Oddball didn't know phrases and metaphors, at least not yet. Truth be told Oddball had come on to this ship to kill the Sith, what with the shotgun and the Ysalamir. with a click clack of his shotgun's bolt sliding forward the clone raised it up to his shoulder and aimed it at the Sith's chest.

However as the great cloning tank in the sky saw it fit to keep the man alive by having his girlfriend show up last second. Quickly dropping his shotgun down before the woman could feel it. He stared at Trystis from beneath his helmet and glared at him before speaking.

"You know what else makes it harder for you to articulate yourself? Having your finger nails pulled out while a nail gets driven through your hand, that normally makes it a little difficult." Oddball said as he desperately wanted to pull the trigger.

"Hey babe." Oddball said as he touched his helmet gently against her long brown hair.

It was comforting having her around, comforting and compromising. He couldn't put the Sith on ice in front of her, not like this. He didn't want to hurt her anymore since Csilla and coruscant, exposing her to what it was like on the ground and the people you had to kill to survive.

"You know it's chow time back on the Galaar, just cut up a fresh nerf. Great stuff, you look hungry. How's about we have you over for dinner." Oddball said in the nicest voice he could muster up.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Trystis winced visibly when the clone mentioned the tortures visited on him. Disgusting. Where's the artistry in nails? What's next, hedge clippers? But strangely enough, he was then invited to dinner.

They didn't teach you how to love at the Sith Academy. The taught you how to use people like tools and throw them away whenever they weren't useful to you anymore. But they did teach you how to read people, and [member="Juwiela Melec"]'s arrival lead to an immediate shift in how the soldier held himself. How he spoke. Trystis's look was uncomprehending - what did [member="Oddball"] have to gain by this? Why was he not taking revenge, getting his satisfaction? And what did his consort have to do with it?

His suspicions were confirmed. The Rebel Alliance was crazy to the core. The Echani rose from his seat - slowly, purposefully, to avoid falling or faltering in front of them. "It'd be my pleasure to join you. I imagine we have a lot to talk about." He had managed to string together a sentence without a pained expletive, so it was a start.

That was how Trystis got into what was about to be the most awkward mealtime conversation of his life.

 

[Juwiela Melec]

Contrary to what seemed to be popular belief, Juwiela was no longer a complete stranger to taking life on the battlefield, nor was she as hesitant to pull the trigger as she once was. At this point she had already witnessed too much to believe in the preservation of life when it came to the Sith or any who associated with them. Even she had determined the lives of those individuals to be next to worthless, and the recent Black Flag order had been regarded as a necessity. But [member="Oddball"] had far more experience than she when it came to ground warfare, and she trusted his judgment. If he saw fit to spare the Sith, then she would raise no complaint. This wasn't her accustomed environment.

Momentarily she rested her forehead against her boyfriend's helmet, flashing a smile as she murmured, "Next time you go to shoot one of them, don't hesitate on my account. We don't have time to hesitate anymore." She reached down to gently squeeze his hand, pulling back and turning to the Sith again. It would certainly be interesting to converse with him further. This had always been an enemy regarded with the utmost hostility, but still a shroud of mystery surrounded them, and she was curious enough about his supposed defection to not press for a more permanent resolution to this brief confrontation. "I would advise that you don't get too comfortable."

Within minutes the trio had returned to the frigate, having made their way to the canteen. No food had been taken by her personally, as she wasn't nearly comfortable enough to consider that display of being at ease. Her AR-47 leaned against the back of her chair, hands resting on the table. No words were immediately put forth, and she tilted her head slightly to one side. "Why the change of heart? Forgive me for being so forward," Really, she wasn't sorry in the least, "But most aren't stupid enough to betray one of the most powerful galactic powers to join a group of freedom fighters that have certainly seen better days. And I want the truth, not whatever story you've been working on, Sith."

[member="Trystis Ray"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Hearing [member="Juwiela Melec"]'s comment, a whisper not intended for him, Trystis found it prudent to not reply. However, a thought crossed his mind - Then I suppose I underestimated you.

Heeding her advice, Trystis did not display any level of ease. Rather, he simply did his best to maintain his dignity. The dignity of someone who, as of now, was walking the fine line between recruit, prisoner, and a perforated carcass. Still, he hadn't eaten in quite the long time, so it was all he could do to put food in his mouth at a measured pace, rather than stuffing his face with unrestrained glee.

"It wasn't a 'change of heart', seer." He said in between bites, eyes narrowed. "As for the reason? Well, we can thank [member="Oddball"] for that. While he was on Coruscant, I requested a prisoner transfer. I wished to speak to him face-to-face..."

Trystis let out a sigh to mask what was inside him - something he knew the Miraluka could see. A reflection of his smile. Of the smile that glowed in his view as he broke. "This made someone unhappy, for whatever reason. I was accused of being a rebel collaborator, doubtlessly as some sort of power trip. When I protested... well, you can see what was done to me, with that eyeless sight of yours. And I had an epiphany. As long as I was with the Empire, I was bowing to the will of the one who had hurt me so. I was serving him. And I'd see the Empire burn before I ever serve him."

He took another bite, letting his contemptuous words hang in the air. Contempt directed at all the people who blindly accepted the will of people like the Hand of the Empress. At all the collaborators in the creation of his shattering, his rise and fall.

 

[Oddball]

[member="Trystis Ray"] [member="Juwiela Melec"]

The Fett clone with his armor still on took off his helmet and placed it and the Ysalamir at the entrance of the messhall so his lady love could see things with her force eyes or whatever. After that he made his way over to their table and listened to the conversation the two were having.

Really Oddball wanted to punch out the Sith right now and shoot him, but then that would make them as bad as the Sith. Compassion and empathy were what separated them from the monsters of the galaxy, it's what made them the Rebel Alliance and even though the Sith would never of done the same for him, it was the right thing to do.

"So I don't know if it's just me here, but it sounds like you got butt hurt that a Sith Lord had a power trip on you, then you left because you didn't want to be his queen." He said as his finger tapped against the trigger housing unit of the shotgun.

"Yeah sounds about right. Well hey look on the bright side, at least they didn't take your arm." Oddball said with a bit of sarcasm.

"So here's the deal, since my girlfriend here has given me permission to shoot you, I'm going to ask you the big question. Why can we trust you? Because if I were you, I'd use us for food, safety, and security, then I'd turn us to your former bosses for a promotion. What do you have that can guarantee us that you are trying to join us, otherwise depending on your answer I'm going to give you the choice of Betty here, or a very short walk out of an airlock." This was going to be good.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Trystis took in a deep breath as the void the Ysalamir created left him, frowning at the clone's insolence. If they did decide to kill him, he probably wouldn't be able to make it out alive. Maybe he could kill one of them, but there was no guarantee with [member="Oddball"]'s endless bag of toys. So he was past the point of no return now.

In prison, he had been made to wear Force cuffs as he rotted, his mind torn open like a wound. Much cruder than the rebels' reptilian pet. Much more painful. He had not healed, hadn't had a moment's respite. So he had waited. And when the cuffs came off, he had stitched it together as best he could, with threads of grudges and hatred. But the wound would not - could not heal fully. It might never.

So he let it bleed, and let his emotions and memories radiate from him. He looked at [member="Juwiela Melec"] with Sith-yellow, poisonous looking eyes and spoke softly, forcefully.

"Tell your mate what you see."

 

[Juwiela Melec]

"If it wasn't a change of heart, then you're telling me you never intended to remain loyal to the Sith in the first place. Somehow I find that hard to believe after my previous encounters with those of similar loyalties. The only reason people like you ever betray their comrades is to gain a higher station. You're going to need a fething good reason to convince either of us that you deserve more of a penance than a bullet between the eyes." Had a fellow Rebel not been on the ship with him by the time Juwiela arrived she would have blasted it to smithereens without a second thought. None of them were in a position to split hairs over the particular reasons why this or that individual should be given a second chance.

But maybe she was wrong. The instant he released his hold on whatever corruption had taken root within his very core her form stiffened, the muscles of her jaw working slowly as she processed and pushed through the shroud his presence radiated. Her breath hissed from between her teeth as she was granted a deeper glimpse into his personal experiences, able to relive shards and fragments of his memories in fits and bursts, the entire ordeal disorienting by itself. One name remained stuck fast in her mind, cybernetic digits tautening just slightly. Bane. That was a surname she knew, and for all the wrong reasons. Sage Bane. Likely a relation of the Chiss she had been a prisoner of a year or more ago.

"I see pain. Suffering. Corruption." Those were the only words she could manage as she attempted to discern what was a whirlwind of thought and emotion to one that could perceive both of those facets of simple existence on the visual plane itself. "They twisted and broke him down until he was nothing and then shattered him more. He doesn't mean anything to them, and vice versa." As she spoke she seemed to look directly at [member="Trystis Ray"], her voice steady. "He won't betray us. I'd be able to see it. I won't go so far as to say we can trust him completely, but this is close enough." A beat passed. "This is a start, Trystis." His name had been gleaned from that experience as well.

[member="Oddball"]

 

[Oddball]

[member="Trystis Ray"]
"And here I was warming up to the idea of shooting him." Oddball said with a slight chuckle.

Oddball however was not about to lose his shotgun, or his treasure trove of gadgets and gizmos that had Sith murdering action. But there was still another thing on the table to discuss. Oddball hadn't told anyone in the Rebel Alliance about his torture or capture at the hands of the Sith besides Jewel, she was the only one besides him who knew who Trystis was in terms of his significance.

So this meant that in order for him to survive in the alliance he needed a new name until he could be trusted enough to come out about who he was to command. For now he'd have to be just another rebel that Oddball adopted from a frontier world recruiting people to join.

"You're going to need a new name. If command runs your real name against any data bases it could raise some red flags. So your just some chap we picked up on a fringe world, tell it any other way and I won't kill you, command will." Oddball couldn't believe he was protecting the Sith but he did what he had to do.

Walking up behind Juwiela he leaned down and kissed the top of her head before whispering to her so that the man couldn't hear.

"Please stay on the frigate tonight, him being here makes me remember things I don't want to. I need you tonight." Oddball said very discretely not wanting to show how emotional vulnerability as he stood upright.

"There's plenty of food, have as much as you want. We have a spare room with a bed down the hall from the canteen. We'll be departing soon after we blast your ship and list you as KIA. Welcome to your new life, don't Kark it up." Oddball then looked over to jewel and gave her a nod. There were things to go do and he had to head to the armory to remove the armor.
[member="Juwiela Melec"]

 

[Ras'kala'han]

"A start," she had said. But where does this all end? With a series of painful, public executions? Maybe that was the way it was, but Sith didn't deal in slim hopes. Every advantage they had would need to be exploited if they were to strike a blow against the Empire on any ground.

"Kyren, then," He said, looking down at his already empty plate. "As good a name as any other. But, Mr. [member="Oddball"], there is one last thing." The pale man stood up and stretched as he spoke, collecting himself physically and mentally. [member="Juwiela Melec"] saw his presence, his secrets recede from the forefront of his mind, closing up and becoming invisible, indistinguishable in its darkness. "My credentials haven't expired, and Sith have a tendency to run off to remote tomb worlds to collect artifacts and stuff. If you want to make use of that, or any of my intel... well..."

He smiled. He could think of a laundry list of potential targets for his new, ragtag allies. The One Sith's reach was expansive to the point of being all-encompassing, and new threats, new monuments to their power sprang up like weeds in a garden. But one name came to him in particular. The Temple of Pain. A factory of nightmares brought to life, an academy and laboratory in one where acolytes learned to warp life and Dark Lords did so with frightening skill. A vital target for the rebellion to strike, and one owned and built by his most hated enemy. Swiping some texts while he was there would just be a bonus.

"...I'm here to help." He said, for the first time in his life in complete seriousness. He nodded and went for seconds as the rebels - his new fellows - left him alone to think.

[member="Juwiela Melec"]