Private Dear Brother

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Catch Me - Kahlil Noble​

Smoke rose up into the horizon like a beacon of what had occurred.

Pirates pilfered homes. Belongings were ripped from their place and tossed into boxes, then loaded onto the shuttles. They shared food and drink off the tables of their vanquished, but the residents were not taken along the spoils. In fact, they were notably absent from the entire scene.

But there it was.

Screams cut the air, like a chorus out of hell. Chains strained against wrists and clanged against the poles of glass and metal. Their deathly rattle accompanied the roar of flames and crackling of seared flesh. They were chained to light-posts lining the centre of their town, and lit two and two. Those who remained were left to hear the screams and smell the stench of their friends and family burned upon the pyre. Their suffering mixed in a broken harmony.

At the end sat a titan of a woman.

Her fork pierced a piece of seared meat, and a knife parted it from the rest in a saw-like motion before it was lifted to her lips. She ate in silence, watching the burning of the townspeople. She pierced a vegetable with her fork and cut it in two, but the table twitched and spilled some of the red sauce. Darth Vornskr the Second stopped.

"I- I'm sorry."

She flicked the vegtable off her "table" and pulled another piece closer with her fork before skewering it.

"Light the next two." "Please-"

She put the vegetable in her mouth and leaned back in her chair. Just when the table breathed out, she placed a swift kick in his abdomen. The plate on his back jumped, but he made the effort to not drop it, not daring to guess what would happen if he spilled the rest of her food.

"Tell me about the Jedi again."

 

[Kahlil Noble]

This was Hell.

There was no room for doubt in his mind. He'd heard the rumors. Pirates in the Parlemian Trade Route lead by a giant of a woman with a love for fire. Burning people, villages, to the ground as she razed her way through innocent people. Perhaps he didn't want to believe it. His sister had tried to kill him in the past, but burning innocent people alive on a whim? Leaving no survivors? Even when she was Empress she was never truly ruthless. People of the Empire didn't have to fear her wrath so long as they stayed loyal.

But as he walked through the charred remains of what was once a town and found the pyre in the center, he couldn't deny it any longer. The smell of burning bodies was something he hated. Always hated it, even when he was the one burning them. His fists tightened as he looked over the still smoldering corpses. There was no more putting this off. He clicked on his com as he headed back towards his ship.

"Find the next town being attacked, or keep an eye out for one. We're finding my sister." R6 was quiet for a moment, then let out a very, very concerned tone. This wasn't like Kahlil at all, but it knew better than to question him. It wasn't hard to find out the next town under distress. Here in the Parlemian, people had started to keep an eye out for this group of pirates. The Bastion set course the moment the Jedi was on board.

He wasn't sure how it was going to go, but he needed to stop Joycelyn Zambrano .

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Kahlil Noble​

She listened to the tale of the Jedi that had come snooping here and other places along the Parlemian. It was not unexpected. In fact, it was exactly what she had planned for. Even so, the story made her lip curl into a sneer. The old man included new details this time and skipped others, seemingly hoping to ingratiate himself with his captor.

"That is all, I promise."

Darth Vornskr put the last of her food in her mouth and chewed as she leaned forward and steepled her hands in front of her lips. With a push, she rose to her feet, releasing the pressure of her physique from the woman she had used as a seat. The old man looked to his wife with worry, but still did not dare to move.

"Please, we will turn them away next time. Just don't-" "Quiet."

She ran a hand through her hair and closed her eyes to better feel the Force. The scent of burning flesh brought a solace to her; a connection to the goddess, to Vahl.

"I need one of you to tell them what happened here and who did it, and I need you to tell the story accurately."

Another pair was set ablaze, creating a new addition to the chorus of screams. Joycelyn suddenly seized the older woman's hair and hoisted her up to a sitting position, causing her back and knees to pop. She did not scream, but the pain was apparent on her face. The vahlacanthix read the features expertly, savouring it.

"Can you do that?" She whispered "Or should I ask your husband?"

The old man was struggling not to move, making the plate and utensils on his back shake with the strain.

"He is very good at telling stories." she smiled. "Monster" The older woman whispered back, causing Joycelyn's eyebrow to raise. She looked at the husband, then back to the wife.

"You get me."

She pulled the woman over on her back and let go of her hair, then knelt down and seized the man's foot. Standing up, she hoisted him up into the air until he dangled like a slaughtered bantha. With her other hand, Joycelyn pulled a knife with a bleach-white grip from the side of her belt

"No!"

"I'll give you one last thing to remember, make sure you catch it all."

 

[Kahlil Noble]

A survivor?

The Force called to him, whispering of life in this forsaken place. The trip would be delayed, but if someone was still alive, how could he leave them in this hellscape? It wasn't long to find her. An older woman, covered in blood. Over the corpse of what he could assume was her husband. Was.. The blood wasn't her own, that much Kahlil could see as he stepped closer. And by how her husband was butchered..

Dear god.

The woman's hollow gaze shifted to look up to him. "Are you the Jedi?"

Kahlil felt an immediate chill down his spine. He could only nod as he knelt by the woman. Any assistance he offered was quickly pushed aside. Instead, she was adamant in telling him everything. Everything that had happened. How the pirates came. How a giant of a woman used her and her husband as furniture. How the people were set ablaze whenever her husband or her failed in the duties of being furniture.

How only she was left alive to tell him.

Horror filled his gaze. It was Joycelyn Zambrano . Even free of the influence of their father, she could do this? The Jedi reached out, trying to be some sort of comfort to the woman who lost anything. Except, it was too late. The woman before him took up the knife that had been used to butcher her husband and plunged it into her throat. Kahlil flinched as blood scattered across his face. She took her life without hesitation, and with a smile.

The man's hand dropped as he watched the life fade from her eyes. Minutes passed before he heard the com on his wrist beep. The ship. R6. They were ready to leave. He pushed himself up and wandered back towards The Bastion. Anger filled his mind. Just raw, savage anger. How could his family be responsible for something so.. Wrong? All he wanted to do was redeem them, but.. Wasn't that just selfish?

His ship left the city behind in it's smoldering ruins. He knew where to go. R6 plotted the course as he stayed by the ramp, blankly staring at the wall. Gone was the desire to save his family. He needed to stop them. By any means.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Kahlil Noble​

It would be difficult to tell in such an emotional state, but there was something distinctly off with the way the ship took off. There was nothing wrong with the take-off sequence, nor was it a choppy ride. No, it was just different. The turns the ship made, the angle of exit, the little details that a true spacer would feel if changed, even if they couldn't quite explain it.

Perhaps it was just too smooth? Too few hick-ups for such a rust-bucket. Yet, the ship oriented itself before dropping into lightspeed, seemingly as planned. An eerie silence settled in the rear of the ship as it shot through the atmosphere and disappeared into hyperspace.

An eerie silence broken by a heavy footstep on a particularly squeaky section of deck.

"Hello brother."

A massive frame came into view from the cockpit. Yellow eyes pierced the darkness as the woman ducked under a low beam. Joycelyn Zambrano, not adorned in her usual black plate, nor seemingly armed for war. None the less, she was an imposing figure, even to her own kin.

"Did you get my message?" "Did she tell you everything?"

In her hand she held the droid, R6, by its head. Its chassis was dented where her fingers had dug in, and the exposed metal had begun to change colours from the sheer heat radiating from her hand. Sorrowful bleeps greeted its master as she dropped it carelessly on the deck.

Something was indeed deeply wrong. R6 had plotted the original course, but he had not been the one to fly the ship out of orbit. And while he had entered the coordinates for the next planned destination on their hunt for Joycelyn, she had altered the course to a destination far closer to home:

Malsheem.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

A clearer head would of noticed. He should of noticed. So wrapped up in his own thoughts the subtle differences that normally would of put him on edge went unnoticed. All he cared about was finding his sister. Putting a stop to her. How ironic that it would be Joycelyn Zambrano 's presence that pulled him out of these thoughts. A cold sweat formed on the back of his neck. Slowly he turned his head to watch the approaching giant step through his ship.

Of all the things he expected, he didn't expect this.

"There wasn't a detail spared."

All he felt was anger. A bitter rage at the woman he called sister. Rage blinded him at first. The sad series of bleeps from his droid pulled his attention from them, his gaze falling to his friend. Fists tightened as a renewed anger coursed through him. "Why?" It was the only question he could think to ask. His droid, her revenge on him. That he understood. His fleeing was a stain on her otherwise impressive resume as a Sith. He visibly winced as R6 was dropped, but at least the droid was still in one piece.

Kahlil turned to face her completely, reaching down to take up the hilt of his saber. "They did nothing to you. How could you just.. Burn them?" His grip tightened on his weapon. There was no fear, not like on Panatha. Just.. Hate. Anger. "Did you just want dad's approval? He doesn't care. He doesn't care about any of us!" The blue of his saber ignited as he leveled his weapon.

"I won't let you do this again. Ever."

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Kahlil Noble​

Joycelyn's head cocked to the side and her eyes narrowed at Kahlil's reasoning. She had almost forgotten how foolish he could be. Then again, she should not be surprised. He thought he had escaped, after all. While he had followed her, she had sought out his stomping grounds for her little display. And these people had conspired with the Jedi for protection. What little good it did them.

As for his other accusation.

"Dad?"

She scoffed and rose up as tall as she could in the confines of the ship.

She admired their father for many things, but she was not his dog. She carried a legacy greater than him alone.

"I did not do this for father. I did it for you." "You only ever respond to misery. It follows you, haunts you. And you enjoy it, at some level."

She stepped even closer to him as he ignited his sabre, standing just out of its range. A smile crept over her lips as she held her hands out to her sides, unarmed and unarmoured. The blue light coloured her, and while it further lit the darkened interior, it did not choke out the shadows that clung around them. If anything, it just defined the dividing lines.

"Will you kill me then?" There was mockery in her tone, as if she dared him. "Strike me down-"

She reached forward with her right hand, as if seeking to touch the blade of his lightsabre with her bare hand. Her left went back to counterbalance. The giant's eyes stared directly into Kahlil's, burning and unblinking like pools of molten gold.

"Like a good apprentice?"

 

[Kahlil Noble]

To his credit, he held his ground as Joycelyn Zambrano loomed above him and stepped closer. But to his detriment, it was from anger that he found this sense of courage. No, he was just angrier than he was afraid. An anger that turned to hate as his sister explained it all. For him? Him? All those people killed in such a savage way for him? "No!" The rage welled further. What happened on Panatha scarred his soul. The Dark, the addiction it held over him. He spent so long suppressing it that even the slightest touch had a lasting effect. It showed when he struck out against his friend.

And now, easier than before, it gripped him again.

"Your twisted mind will only kill more people." She stepped forward, and he didn't hesitate. Her words rang hollow in his mind. Was that what she wanted? For him to be her apprentice again? No, she needed to be stopped. He needed to kill her. Strike. Kill. Stop her. Cut her down. He let these thoughts flood his mind as he struck. There was justice in this. The image of the woman plunging the knife in her throat repeated over and over again. For the briefest moment, the grey of his eyes turned to yellow.

The blue of his saber flashed as he brought it down, full of lethal intent for his sister. Except, it popped. Before the blade could come in contact it dissipated. What happened he didn't understand. Confusion filled his eyes as he stared at the hilt. Sure enough, though, the Solari crystal rejected him. Disbelief replaced confusion as he lifted his gaze towards his sister.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

He was right though, she would likely kill again. Just not him.

"Pathetic."

Just as Kahlil looked up, he would see a fist.

His older half-sister was an accomplished shock-boxer and it showed. Without the weight of her heaviest armour or any significant kit, her punches were deceptively fast and with her stature she had a terrifying reach to compliment her power.

The first punch was straight punch from her right, aimed right for his nose to disorient him and put him on his heels. Her body immediately weaved to the left with a step and. Hit or miss, she threw another.

The second was a hook, aimed for the corner of his jaw.

Normally, one would expect a third punch to finish the job, and she appeared to be winding up to break his jaw, but instead of a fist came a knee, aimed at his abdomen and ribs. She was not holding back.

"You can't even protect yourself."

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"Chi-"

Pain cut him off. Everything around him swam, blending together as pain numbed his vision. Mind numbing pain was something he remembered from childhood. The effect was the same. He lifted his hands regardless, some semblance of boxing clear in his own stance. As a child he was weak, frail. Easily beaten by many, siblings included. After he fled, he learned much. How to manage a ship, how to fly. How to conduct business and fire a blaster. How to bare knuckle brawl.

But despair was more powerful.

The failure of his lightsaber struck him hard. Harder than the second punch that made the room dim as he struggled to say conscious. He was a Jedi, right? He lifted his arms to protect his face, only to receive the knee fully to his unprotected stomach. He dropped to his knees, spitting up what little he had in his stomach as he doubled over. Everything hurt. Was this just his fate? He couldn't stop his family without falling from grace?

Even then, he couldn't stop them?

No, he still could do something. He brought his hand around, lifting his gaze towards Joycelyn Zambrano . Trying to use the Force to throw her back. Make distance. Anything. But, nothing happened. His eyes went wide. The Force no longer answered his call. He had forsaken it, so it had forsaken him? He laughed weakly, spitting out some blood that had pooled in his mouth in the process.

He really karked up.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

"No-no." "Don't be like that"

Joycelyn took a step back and shook her left fist when he doubled over and fell to his knees. She wasn't pushing the assault further just yet, but gave him a moment to feel the pain, a moment to reconsider. She could have continued to pummel him into the floor until there was nothing left but a sack of blood and broken bones, but what would that accomplish?

When he reached out, she brought her hands up reflexively to counteract his use of the Force, but she knew she was too late.

But then nothing happened.

"You need to commit, brother."

A smirk spread over her lips again as she reached out to grab his hair and twist his head back so he would look at her. She looked down at him with her golden eyes, which glowed with the energy of the dark side. Her hand was unnaturally warm, like standing too close to a thruster while it was going off.

Her pitiful student.

"Look at me."

Wayward brother, weak and lost.

"You fail because you try to walk two paths with one set of legs." "You are a Zambrano, Kahlil. You have such potential, but you waste it on doubt."

If his head was twisted back, he would see the lightsabre hilt barely concealed at the back of her hip. She had lured him to think she was unarmed. And when her hand reached back as counterbalance, she was really reaching for her own sabre in case she needed it to stop him.

"Commit! Use your passions, your anger, your pain, your hate."

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Pain.

Right, Joycelyn Zambrano wasn't done with him. Kahlil grimaced as his hair was used to yank his head back. Silvery eyes met the hateful stare. Empty with defeat. Why hadn't she just killed him yet? He was the largest stain on her reputation. Ending his life would certainly rid her of that, wouldn't it? Light returned to his gaze as she spoke. Confusion at first. Then fear. She wasn't going to kill him. That's not how she could remove that stain.

He needed to fall.

How proud she must of felt when she learned of how he struck out at Ingrid. How he succumbed to the dark that their father flooded the room with. How even after all this time of trying to stay on the path of light, he was so easily lured off of it in his want to protect. This all really had been a stage made to lure him out. There was no escaping his family. All this time he could have cut ties, changed his name.

Pride kept him a Zambrano. Pride kept him from ever truly escaping. Pride was why he never would.

"Fine."

If there was no escape, then he could at least do one thing right. He'd seen it as she wrenched his gaze upwards. The hidden saber. Unlike his own that refused to work, it would. Hate filled his eyes as he let himself go. Passion. Pride. Fear and anger. He let himself act on the emotions he'd been denying. Again he reached out, this time not calling upon the Force to help him. Making it help. Serve.

His fist closed. And with it, pressure formed. The air trembled as he tried to crush his sister's throat. He knew it wouldn't work, though. Brute force with the Dark that he'd forsaken for so long was foolish. Just something to pull her attention from her saber.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

And there it was.

His eyes flared from defeat to determination, and for the first time in a long time she recognised her own brother. That surging Zambrano bloodline. That raw potential, and beneath it all, something truly special. Her eyes flared in response, as the master in her awakened along with his darkness.

But, perhaps surprisingly, she choked.

Her throat closed up and her left hand immediately shot up to it. Her chin raised itself by instinct, and she did not move to stop him from taking her sabre from her hip. She did, however, notice that he took it. With a quick step and turn, she gave herself some distance as she spat and struggled against his pressure on her windpipe. The giant doubled forward, both hands reaching for her throat as her face screwed up.

And her lips spread in a wide grin.

"That's more like it." -She wheezed.

Her eyes blinked, then opened with a renewed glow of primal fire. Red flames licked between her fingers as she opened her mouth as to yell, but instead gave a yell that shook the very skeleton of the ship. Systems blared as it threatened to rip itself apart and something dark began to materialise itself amongst the flames in her hands. Her skin seemed to blacken like the volcanic surface of Mustafar, while the veins on her arms glowed bright red, like streams of molten rock.

"Smite me then!"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Saber in hand Kahlil stood to his full height, though Joycelyn Zambrano easily towered over him. Ever the runt of the Zambrano family, even if he had filled out more in his time away. An overwhelming cold rushed through him, one he remembered. One he hated that he remembered. Even as he tightened his fist, trying so hard to break his sister's neck despite knowing he couldn't, it was like a part of him had been returned. Something he tore out, a void that the Light could never fill.

Regret and anger filled his features. He hated himself for these feelings. Her words pulled him out of that self loathing. His eyes seemed to refocus, looking over Darth Vornskr as the ship rattled around them. She was stronger than him. Always had been, but even know he could see the difference wasn't some small gap he could overcome. She'd become a monster.

She'd become their father.

The grip on her throat was released as he lowered his hand to grip the saber in both hands. The familiar red glow ignited between them, lightning up the darkness as the ship's lights went out one by one. Until the only glow was the lightsaber and his sister's flames. He knew this wasn't going to end well for him. No Sith left themselves open to be struck down without something to defend themselves with. The only thing he could bet on was she'd underestimate him. Or that he wasn't overestimating himself.

He stepped forward, hefting the blade above and down in a single, powerful strike. If she blocked it, he'd turn off the saber and reignite the blade inside her guard. That was his gamble. She evaded, he would be open.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

If there was one thing a warrior knew, it was the length of their own weapon.

As such, Joycelyn knew well that the sabre Kahlil now held was shorter than many he was accustomed to, though from the heft one would not think so. Reach and distance was what Joycelyn assumed would be the defining factor of the fight.

"Smite me!"

She egged him on, closer to the dark,

Flames flashed between her hands, and the darkness within them cloalesced into a familiar blade: Zaudraka

As he brought his blade up to bear down on her. She pulled her sithsword from some pocket space into her hands. She moved it into a parry, seeking to knock his blade aside and counterattack as Kahlil had gambled she would. However, he seemed to have forgotten a lesson from the sword arts of the epicanthix: She stepped off the line of attack.

A matter of inches, but critical.

When the sabre shut off and on again, she had raised her hands to bring them down in a mighty cleave, and the re-ignited bloodshine blade raked across the side of her chest. Injured, yes, but not fatal. Her blade came down as well, following right behind Kahlil's and aiming for the inside of his outstretched arms.

Against the burning pain, Joycelyn grinned.

Her eyes burned, feverish and manic with the dark side of the Force as pain became power.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

It worked.

But only to get in Joycelyn Zambrano 's guard. Arms outstretched he knew what was coming. It wasn't the first time he'd faced something like this. The scenario was different of course. He was younger. Being a Zambrano came at a cost many didn't realize. There wasn't shock in his face as the red saber clattered to the ground, blade extinguished. There was pain, but no mind throbbing agony as his eyes drifted between his arms. Only a resigned sorrow as his eyes turned up towards the stumps where his arms had been connected.

How many times had he lost his arms before?

Kahlil stumbled back a step. His balance was gone. And the pain wasn't just something to ignore. He just felt numb. Dizzy. But his yellow eyes, filled only with hate and contempt, focused on his monstrous sibling.

"I hate you, dear sister."

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

After having cleaved through Kahlil's arms, Joycelyn took a big step back and clutched her charred side. Pain spiked through her nerves as she touched the seared flesh, yet her eyes focused only on her disarmed sibling. Blood bubbled on Zaudraka's blade, making trails of smoke as it seared off from the supernaturally heated metal. While it was not as hot as a lightsaber, the sith sword still burned hot enough to have mostly cauterised Kahlil's wounds on impact.

"Welcome back, brother."

Despite the surging pain of her wound, the fervor in her eyes and the raptorial smile did not leave her face.She turned casually and flicked the last remains of his blood off Zaudraka. The lines of crackling red were already subsiding, leaving the soot-marks on her skin.

The hull stopped groaning as her presence gathered and returned to the comparably humble visage of Joycelyn Zambrano.

"You should rest up before supper."

From her relaxed stance, Joycelyn swiftly turned. Her hip and right leg lashed out like a whip, sending a circular kick of her steel-toed boots at Kahlil's head, intending to knock him out cold for the remainder of the journey.

Kahlil Noble