Character
Jonex Mine 8-11B, near Bimmel
The Muun reflected upon his recent defeat. It's taste was bitter. He felt a terrible sense of distress as he replayed the memories in his mind's eye. His machinations foiled, the veil of his sorcery pierced all too easily.
Had it all been worth it? Throwing away a promising, if frustrating, career on his homeworld? He told himself that he could've recovered from his missteps. Perhaps he could've been reassigned off Muunilinst. It would've all worked out with time.
He sat there at that desk in the darkness. Long fingers rested on the desktop and his eyes were focused on nothing. Scarcely did he even register his own breathing. He felt hollow within his being.
His wounds pained him but the ease in which they were inflected hurt much more. So confident he'd been in his abilities. So quickly had he been disabused of his pride. The Muun's powers had proven far short of a true Sith Lord.
Perhaps it was time to admit defeat. To abandon this life....
Maro was so focused on his own self-pity that he took no note of the stirring shadows within the barely-lit office. They gathered slowly, like wisps of smoke. Slowly congregating into the rough form of a humanoid. Through the office a chill took hold.
It was the creeping chill which caught his attention. The administrative facilities had been cool upon his arrival but this cold meant something had went awry. Perhaps it was the climate control systems...but, no, he realized as his eyes sharpened. This was no mechanical malfunction.
His hand quickly fell to his weapon as he spoke.
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
His body had tensed, ready to spring up and meet any would-be attacker. His eyes scanned the darkness quickly until it settled on the miasma in the corner. He stood quickly, knocking the chair back and dropped into a ready-stance with his crimson blade ignited.
It's blood-shine illuminated the gloom like a diabolical candle. It highlighted the murky form, though in truth, it barely seemed to have that. The centre-mass was still despite the swirling edges. No movements were made yet a rich laughter came from within it, detached and frigid.
"I would ask the same of you," came the voice as if from centuries past "You are, after all, in my home."
Dansk blinked quickly as he recalled just who this office, this entire mining colony had belonged to.
"Vectivus..."
"Darth Vectivus," the voice corrected "Dark Lord of the Sith. Unlike you."
The words hit with the impact of a sledgehammer.
"I can sense your weakness, Muun. Put away your weapon; it will do you no good against me."
The shade's tone was sardonic and it put Dansk's teeth on edge. Yet he relented after a moment, thumbing his saber off though he chose to remain standing. Perhaps this apparition couldn't be harmed by a blade. But he had other weapons.
"Very good. Now, as before, why did you come into my home?"
Dansk hesitated but ultimately decided to answer truthfully.
"I came seeking answers. Guidance for...what I should do next...."
The shade of Vectivus made no reply. Instead it remained impassive as if expecting more.
"My enemy defeated me," he said reluctantly "It was all I could do to survive. He toyed with me the whole time. I only escaped through happenstance."
"Of course he defeated you," came the amused reply "I didn't call you weak for my own amusement. But do tell me, why come to this remote place of no great significance?"
"Because, as you say, it's remote. It offers solitude...."
"Solitude to lick your wounds like a Kath hound beaten by it's master."
There was no mistaking the contempt in the shade's voice now. It stung the Muun deeply but he offered no reply.
"You are not welcome in my home if all you seek is succor," the disembodied voice went on "As a Muun, you should know only those who deserve to survive do so. As in business, so it is in life."
"Do I not deserve to survive?," Maro replied with growing anger.
"You deserve only that which you are strong enough to acquire."
These words resonated within Maro's core. It was the fundamental, unspoken lesson in the life of every Muun.
"Where did I go wrong, Lord Vectivus?," came Dansk's impassioned reply "What must I do to become strong enough?"
"Those who would commune with the Dark Side create a bargain with it. You have not truly committed yourself to it. Until you choose to do so, it with not fulfill the agreement."
More and more, these words began to impress themselves on the Muun. He stood silent and in rapt attention.
"Real strength can only come from the Dark Side. Therefore, you must complete this contract. Only then will you gain power. Power through the darkness means power over yourself. So it follows that you will also gain power over external affairs."
Maro let this wisdom soak into his marrow in the long moments of silence that followed.
"How do I go about honouring the contract?," he finally asked the shade.
"You already know how. In spite of your weakness, I sense that someone of power has already shown you the way."
The Muun nodded slowly in reply. His Master had shown him over many months. But then he'd gone without warning. Yet Vectivus confirmed that the teachings he'd already been given were the proper path.
"You may remain here for a time, Muun," Vectivus said again "I will not interfere so long as you as you choose to fulfill your agreement. But, if you choose to abandon it, you must leave or I will destroy you."
There was no anger in those words. It was spoken merely as a point of fact. As it was, Dansk knew the shadowy apparition still had enough power to interact with the physical realm. There were a hundred ways Vectivus could end him even if not directly.
"I will remain, then, for a time," Maro said after contemplating the offer "I will fulfill my bargain."
"Very good," came the satisfied reply "But remember, I will be watching you. Do not break our agreement."
The Muun reflected upon his recent defeat. It's taste was bitter. He felt a terrible sense of distress as he replayed the memories in his mind's eye. His machinations foiled, the veil of his sorcery pierced all too easily.
Had it all been worth it? Throwing away a promising, if frustrating, career on his homeworld? He told himself that he could've recovered from his missteps. Perhaps he could've been reassigned off Muunilinst. It would've all worked out with time.
He sat there at that desk in the darkness. Long fingers rested on the desktop and his eyes were focused on nothing. Scarcely did he even register his own breathing. He felt hollow within his being.
His wounds pained him but the ease in which they were inflected hurt much more. So confident he'd been in his abilities. So quickly had he been disabused of his pride. The Muun's powers had proven far short of a true Sith Lord.
Perhaps it was time to admit defeat. To abandon this life....
Maro was so focused on his own self-pity that he took no note of the stirring shadows within the barely-lit office. They gathered slowly, like wisps of smoke. Slowly congregating into the rough form of a humanoid. Through the office a chill took hold.
It was the creeping chill which caught his attention. The administrative facilities had been cool upon his arrival but this cold meant something had went awry. Perhaps it was the climate control systems...but, no, he realized as his eyes sharpened. This was no mechanical malfunction.
His hand quickly fell to his weapon as he spoke.
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
His body had tensed, ready to spring up and meet any would-be attacker. His eyes scanned the darkness quickly until it settled on the miasma in the corner. He stood quickly, knocking the chair back and dropped into a ready-stance with his crimson blade ignited.
It's blood-shine illuminated the gloom like a diabolical candle. It highlighted the murky form, though in truth, it barely seemed to have that. The centre-mass was still despite the swirling edges. No movements were made yet a rich laughter came from within it, detached and frigid.
"I would ask the same of you," came the voice as if from centuries past "You are, after all, in my home."
Dansk blinked quickly as he recalled just who this office, this entire mining colony had belonged to.
"Vectivus..."
"Darth Vectivus," the voice corrected "Dark Lord of the Sith. Unlike you."
The words hit with the impact of a sledgehammer.
"I can sense your weakness, Muun. Put away your weapon; it will do you no good against me."
The shade's tone was sardonic and it put Dansk's teeth on edge. Yet he relented after a moment, thumbing his saber off though he chose to remain standing. Perhaps this apparition couldn't be harmed by a blade. But he had other weapons.
"Very good. Now, as before, why did you come into my home?"
Dansk hesitated but ultimately decided to answer truthfully.
"I came seeking answers. Guidance for...what I should do next...."
The shade of Vectivus made no reply. Instead it remained impassive as if expecting more.
"My enemy defeated me," he said reluctantly "It was all I could do to survive. He toyed with me the whole time. I only escaped through happenstance."
"Of course he defeated you," came the amused reply "I didn't call you weak for my own amusement. But do tell me, why come to this remote place of no great significance?"
"Because, as you say, it's remote. It offers solitude...."
"Solitude to lick your wounds like a Kath hound beaten by it's master."
There was no mistaking the contempt in the shade's voice now. It stung the Muun deeply but he offered no reply.
"You are not welcome in my home if all you seek is succor," the disembodied voice went on "As a Muun, you should know only those who deserve to survive do so. As in business, so it is in life."
"Do I not deserve to survive?," Maro replied with growing anger.
"You deserve only that which you are strong enough to acquire."
These words resonated within Maro's core. It was the fundamental, unspoken lesson in the life of every Muun.
"Where did I go wrong, Lord Vectivus?," came Dansk's impassioned reply "What must I do to become strong enough?"
"Those who would commune with the Dark Side create a bargain with it. You have not truly committed yourself to it. Until you choose to do so, it with not fulfill the agreement."
More and more, these words began to impress themselves on the Muun. He stood silent and in rapt attention.
"Real strength can only come from the Dark Side. Therefore, you must complete this contract. Only then will you gain power. Power through the darkness means power over yourself. So it follows that you will also gain power over external affairs."
Maro let this wisdom soak into his marrow in the long moments of silence that followed.
"How do I go about honouring the contract?," he finally asked the shade.
"You already know how. In spite of your weakness, I sense that someone of power has already shown you the way."
The Muun nodded slowly in reply. His Master had shown him over many months. But then he'd gone without warning. Yet Vectivus confirmed that the teachings he'd already been given were the proper path.
"You may remain here for a time, Muun," Vectivus said again "I will not interfere so long as you as you choose to fulfill your agreement. But, if you choose to abandon it, you must leave or I will destroy you."
There was no anger in those words. It was spoken merely as a point of fact. As it was, Dansk knew the shadowy apparition still had enough power to interact with the physical realm. There were a hundred ways Vectivus could end him even if not directly.
"I will remain, then, for a time," Maro said after contemplating the offer "I will fulfill my bargain."
"Very good," came the satisfied reply "But remember, I will be watching you. Do not break our agreement."