Exodus

[Sargon Vynea]

As the Astral Horizon traveled through hyperspace in one of its hanger lay the Peregrine. Already teams were rushing around the ship, including two medical teams for two Sith Lords who had just moments ago wrecked havoc upon Coruscant. The Zabrak was of a mixed mind on the matter, but the decisions had been simple, it was the only way Spencer was leaving.

Opening the ramp to the ship Sargon went to exit, but stopped short. Turning around he took the nearest Sith master, and lifted him up. Carrying the man Sargon noted that he was missing an ear, and half his face. Not even couple days in the bacta tank was going to make that scar go away. Placing him on the first bed the medical crew had brought out he turned back to the ship. Helping the second larger Sith Saron was going to need to share the burden with the heavy Sith. Placing him on the second bed he looked over, and saw Spencer coming down the ramp.

There was no doubting the look on her face, and with a sigh Sargon stood to the side. Opening himself up to the force he focused on the force signature of Spencer, and channeled his focus into her. His cleared his mind breathing out all the doubt of this decision, and what he'd chosen to do by helping these men. His mind clear he let go of his control, and let the force flow through him, and into Spencer. With it he sent his calmness, and his clear message of loyalty to the woman.

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"], @[member="Jacen Cavill"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer moved quietly, she didn’t want to think anymore nor did she think she could. Her face pale from the millions of connections in the force disappear. To watch each and every spark of life disappear and crush the force around her. Spencer closed her eyes as she remembered the moment she had finally seen both men aboard the Peregrine.

They boarded the ship, Spencer pulled the Peregrine from the atmosphere of the planet and headed towards the ships Sargon had directed her too. It took only moments after the autopilot was engaged that she tore towards them. Blood everywhere, a hand reached towards her mask and tossed it aside and she knew it was still somewhere lingering on the Peregrine. It was possible it was stained with blood from the men.

Hands shook as she reached out towards Mikhail, Jacen seemed fine for a moment but the man before her was something precious, but they both were when she put her mind to it. She could have left the planet under the cloak of the Peregrine, leaving them. How they both had spoken to her on each of their last meetings, though Mikhail’s words still ripped through her heart. A hand warm with the force reached out and hovered increments above the damaged skin, her eyes blurred with tears as she focused every ounce of herself to stop the bleeding. Her other hand reached out towards Jacen as she looked at him knowing all well neither was safe from eternal sleep.

She was exhausted and paused for a moment; her footing had given out as she wondered how much longer she could go. Every ounce of her being was put towards healing those two idiots, her anger would have flared, but the calming aura from Sargon kept her once more sane. Looking towards the man she sighed softly and ran her hand against her face. She felt the paste of the hardened blood on her fingers. Spencer held her breath as she stared at her fingers as she felt her lip quiver, her face now stained with the blood of the murderers…

With the blood of the murderers that she loved…

"Do you have a towel?"

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Jacen Cavill"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"I usually hear that... in a different setting," croaked Mikhail. Words coming from his throat like the last breaths of a dying man. He then broke up into a fit of coughing, his whole body shuddering. Pain flared in his side and he groaned. Ow. He hadn't hurt this bad since the Second battle of Junction, when he'd had four bullets in him and a ton of rubble dropped on his head. As an apprentice. No one had come close to wounding him this badly as a full fledged Sith Lord. Not Anaya. Not Tyrin.

All Shorn could do there was lie on the ground, no longer bleeding profusely, but still in excruciating pain as consciousness came flooding back to him, along with a surge of emotions. In his weakened state, the Dark Side no longer offered refuge from his guilt and self-loathing. His rage had expended itself. He had no where to run from the desolation he had wreaked. Pale eyes stared up at Spencer and a whisper came from his thoughts to hers.

"I'm sorry."

@[member="Spencer Jacobs"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Spencer Jacobs"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"]

Sleep, it was beautiful, and very peaceful. In his mind's eye, he could feel the wind whipping his face. His mother was ruffling his hair in his favorite field on Serenno, and it was just the pair of them. A few blankets where set aside, and it was one of the few days that it was just the pair of them. The sun was starting to set, and his boyish smile was spread from ear to ear. His mother gave him a hug, and the entire world was right for a day. Joy was the main emotion he felt, and nothing could take that day from him. The smell of her perfume was something he would never forget, and her words of how proud she was of him truly made him happy. There was no one telling him to do better, to push harder, to be the heir he was supposed to be. No, on this day he could simply be Jacen Cavill and be loved for the innocent and caring child that he was. Everything was perfect, and he enjoyed the contentment he was feeling in that very moment as peace finally overcame him in this wonderful memory.

Then pain, pain was everywhere.

Cavill had to fight the urge to vomit, as shock started to come over him. All the cuts may have been healed, but his connection to the Force was drastically weakened at the moment. His creation, the embodiment of his rage, Darth Kryptus was gone. There was simply too much pain to try and pull his monster out. The battle had taken his strength, and as his eyes opened slowly he couldn't tell where he was. Looking around, his blurry vision was coming in to focus. Picking his arm up, the heavy appendage felt ten times heavier than it should. What in the world? It was covered in blood, and Jacen was having a hard time remembering where he was at and why he was here. Reaching for his glasses, he realized he wasn't there as Cade, it was real, he thought to himself.

"How...how did we get here." His voice was uncertain, and it was the voice of the man from Serenno. Not the monster he had become.

 

[Sargon Vynea]

He had done absolutely nothing, and yet he was exhausted. He'd funneled everything he could into Spencer, even to the point of gripping a bed to stay standing. it had worked though, and both men were awake. Whatever she did it had worked beyond what he was possible, or least what he knew to be possible. There was so much he simply didn't know, but all things came in time. Wisdom, and knowledge were a path to be walked, not a end, but something that grew through constant experience.

Turning to the men he surveyed them over, and leaned against the shuttle behind him. "Well this was quite the exit, I must say you two have quite the flare for the theatrics." He didn't stop his focus on Spencer, or sending his calmness. Instead he went with his instinct and increased his field. Closing his eyes he allowed his own feeling of peace to flow out, and let it soak into the situation. There had been enough death, there had been enough violence, and in truth he didn't think he could protect Spencer of this ship against them.

The Zabrak heard the whisper on the wind of the Force, and simply served as a vessel from which it flowed from, and through. There might be hell to pay for this act later diplomatically, but he'd already faced the truth of his decision, he'd do it again to. These men were murderers, and had caused destruction on the scale of an army, but Sargon knew he'd been as lost once. Who was he to judge Spencer's judgement, her ideal of the Fringe had given him a second chance, maybe it would free them as well.

@[member="Jacen Cavill"], @[member="Mikhail Shorn"], @[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Spencer moved towards Jacen first, she looked towards Mikhail for a moment and gave him a quick smile. She moved her hands quickly over some of the panels that the men were attached too, she checked Jacen’s vitals first and then looked quickly over Mikhail’s. The girl remained silent through the entire process, she didn’t show any emotion on her face leaving Jacen’s question in the air. Sargon of course answered quickly and with some snark. Shaking her head, she moved away from Jacen and stood beside Mikhail.

“You’re aboard a Fringe ship, we’re taking care of you healing your wounds from your play time in the senate.”

She answered Jacen, but her head tilting and she smiled softly towards Mikhail. Despite everything that had happened only moments before she was happy that he was okay. Taking a deep breath she reached out with her had glowing a soft gold color, she reached to touch the side of his face that wasn’t mangled to gain some sort of trust boundary again with him. The last thing she needed was for him to jerk away from her and harm himself more.

Quietly she spoke to him.

“It’s okay, don’t stress yourself. Just focus on getting better.”

Turning to face Jacen she sighed softly.

“So who am I speaking to Jacen or Kryptus? What were you two thinking? Destroying the senate building?!”

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Jacen Cavill"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The slight movement of his head away from her hand was involuntary. Sith didn't trust. Like, ever. But he felt so very weak, as if he'd just run the hardest race of his life, then stood in the middle of a tornado. Which, in some ways, was exactly what had happened. He was tired of running and Spencer's hand was warm and soft and... glowing? The touch of her skin against his face brought up memories unbidden. He didn't have the remaining will power to fight them off. Lost in those memories, Mikhail remembered a brief space of happiness in between the killing and the guilt. And it was always with her. He stared up at her, blue eyes full of an indistinguishable mixture of emotions.

Vitality trickled through his limbs, the Force restoring him bit by bit as Spencer worked to heal both himself and Jacen. The scars on his face would heal. Eventually. For now he probably looked like a dark harvester. He was more concerned with being stuck inside a pressurized metal container in the middle of a cold vacuum... with a wounded Kryptus. His gaze went warily from Spencer to Jacen, watching their interactions cautiously.
@[member="Spencer Jacobs"] @[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Darron Wraith]

@[member="Sargon Vynea"] @[member="Mikhail Shorn"] @[member="Spencer Jacobs"]

"Exit?" He coughed, and he began to shake feverishly as a blurry figure ahead of him spoke to him? Or was he talking to someone else? Jacen had little clue as to what was going on, his vision kept coming in and out of focus. His vision couldn't focus like he wanted, and all he could touch on was a glowing hand over him. Whatever connection he had to the Force right now was so infinitesimal that it could barely count as one. Just the sound of his own voice was jarring to his ears, as if all of his senses that came naturally to him were in overdrive. Trying to sit up proved useless, even if all of his surface and internal injuries were healed. Fatigue was setting in, deep into his bones. Never in his life had he felt fatigue like this, and everything was spinning. A question, from an etheral voice, the one he had dreamed about on so many nights before embracing the dark had spoken to him. Yet, her words were distant as he rolled off the bed he was on and onto the floor.

How he had managed to not roll into the petite woman who had just healed him was a small miracle, but Jacen simply lay there as shock took him over.

Convulsing, his body was still reacting as if injured. Spencer may have mended his bones, and healed the flesh for the injured Sith Master. What she couldn't do was speed up the marrow that needed to restore the vast amount of blood he had lost, and currently he was in shock due to the loss. A cold sweat was overtaking him, and his body wouldn't stop spasming. The effects of the concussion were still ongoing, and it took all of his willpower to not vomit in the floor from his injuries. Being a tank had it's price, and he was paying it in full right now. Sure, Mikhail had taken a physical beating and Jacen had endured, but everyone had their limits. Darth Kryptus was just too foolish to understand his human shell had them as well. The Force could do many things, what it couldn't do was protect a man once he had reached his physical and mental limits.

That had happened today, and as he lay there spasming he made his best effort to look at the pair above him. "It's Jacen, Kryptus is too exhausted to show today."