I will try to fix you [Manu/Mikhail]

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya paced relentlessly, her agitation putting the crew on edge. Shorn's body had healed, but he hadn't woken up and nothing she tried would work. Her own medics were unable to provide any answers and so she paced, all the while the ship putting as much space between them and the Fringe. How could this have happened? How could she have not seen this coming? Maybe she had, maybe that's the real reason her feet had carried her to Lipsec, only she hadn't been soon enough.

A hand found a tray of utensils and flung them at the opposite wall, before moving to stand above his head. Hot tears rolled from her cheeks and she screamed at Mikhail's lifeless form. Emotion she didn't understand, that she couldn't place under anything rational coiled tightly in her chest and she closed her eyes. Taking deep breaths, pushing it back beneath the surface, forcing it into the dark corners of her mind. Under control again, she bent down lips pressed lightly on Mikhail's forehead.

"I will fix this." she breathed. She swept from him them, leaving instructions for him to be closely watched and for her staff to alert her of any movement before letting her feet carry her to the hangar bay. Laughter rippled up as she entered the pilots conversation, her fury swirling about her like a storm. Safe to say it ended abruptly and they each showed the right level of fear. "What is our location?"

"We've just come out of hyperspace in the Arkanis Sector." Anaya started and looked round. Lola, had been at her elbow the entire time, silent watching and dutiful, unflinching as her mistress wept, raged and screamed at a man she knew nothing about, who looked like he was dead. Anaya made a note to reward her later, and turned back to the pilots. "You will take your transports and you will search every planet on this sector for a healer. You will tell them that there is a ship bearing a pateint whose injuries were sustained at a recent incident on Lipsec, that his injuries are not physical and that I will pay well. You will not use my name, you will not use this businesses name and you will not use this ships name."

"My lady, how will we find a healer willing to come with us utterly blind? Surely we must--"

"YOU WILL TELL THEM ONLY WHAT I HAVE TOLD YOU TO!" The outspoken pilot shrank back. "They will need to be a force user. If the force wills it, they will come. Now go." They bowed and moved away, and Lola moved forward. "Tell the Captain to hold here."

"Yes m'lady."

[member="Manu Xextos"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

Lipsec. What was it about the outer rim planet that had been chattered about then hushed in a matter of seconds? The uneasiness shook Manu Xextos: Admiral, Rogue Jedi Master, Doctor. It had long been the Admiral's want to keep his ear to the spacer channels for information on dealings in the Fringe, CIS and factions along the way. Call it an attempt at loyalty for his former Galactic Empire, or an itch in the back of his throat, but the Echani Master couldn't help feel there was something amiss. Chatter didn't fade that fast unless it was silenced, or meaningless. Even meaningless information was useful at times.

And Lipsec had been voraciously silenced. All quiet, Manu had sent a scout group to assess the rumblings of the Arkanis Sector which had become his home. Oh, but the Scouts came back with an intriguing tale of a medical emergency no bacta nor common medicine could fix, sustained on Lipsec. Once the third scout report came in of the same story, Manu rose from his work on Tythe and called a Commando group to his side. The situation didn't feel right.

"Prepare the Indra for launch. Be ready for anything, we're going after that distress call." The young Major shared Manu's face. In fact, several of the Guardsmen who came along with Manu were identical in appearance: descendants of his own family line and pure Echani all. Only a master of Echani Body Language would tell the difference between them and their identical kit.


Coming within docking distance of [member="Anaya Fen"]'s ship, a transmission was sent. "This is the Tythan Corvette Indra, we are responding to a medical distress call and come to offer assistance. Repeat, this is the Tythan Corvette Indra on a mission of mercy. Power down and prep for boarding. We advise that the nature of this medical emergency be discussed prior to boarding. You are being scanned for biological contaminants only in so far as ensuring you are not a Plague Ship. Captain Lochan Xextos, out."

Manu sat back and waited for the reply, eyes scanning the bioscans the Indra was receiving from the fallow ship. He reached out with the Force, to touch upon the minds there with a wash of calm and peace.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

The pilots returned, one by one, empty handed. Anaya sent them out and the distress call spread. She sat besides Mikhail while they searched, only allowing Lola close to speak to her, to relay updates. When the call came from the corvette she was meditating, but she felt the Jedi reach out before Lola stepped through the door and she did what any sith would do when invaded by a foreign mind. She spat back at him with fury at the invasion whether peaceful or not. She was on her feet when the door slid open and Lola leapt aside as she headed for the bridge, the young zeltron repeating the message for her.

"Open a channel." Someone confirmed the channel was open.

"Captain Xextos, your help is welcome, but your intrusion is not." her tone was clipped, her emotions unsteady "The patient is physically well, but utterly unresponsive. You should not before you board, that I am no friend of the Jedi's, nor of anyone's for that matter, but you have my word that you can conduct you mission of mercy without trouble. I will await you in the docking bay. Fen out."

[member="Manu Xextos"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Let me spell this in Common for you." Manu's voice was a steady calm, unaffected by the flailing nature of [member="Anaya Fen"]'s spitting rage. "I heal your person in my way, which means the environment he's in is mine. The mind is a complex and steadfast organ and once it cracks it becomes more feeble than a Voorpah under a Nexu's claws. Chaos itself is a war of attrition and without a medium line of calm, no doctor, mystic or Force Healer in history can patch a mind back together so it works. You don't rage at me. I'm here to help you, I come in peace, if I feel you so much as twitch I will leave you to your injured partner and you can watch him wither and die. I am no Jedi. I have no qualms of walking away and you will not force my hand. I take your word in trust, and I accept it. Xextos out."

Leaning back, the seven foot Echani rubbed his brow and reached a hand up for his descendant kin. The mind was mighty, the Force in him was mighty but Manu's body was weak and his constitution tired. He shook it off with a constant meditation and the flow of the Light running through his veins.

Manu Xextos was quite literally a beacon in the Dark. His skin shimmered under low light with a pale luminescence, which streamed into his long, silver hair. In the docking bay, Manu was one of six Echani Guardsmen - three identical to himself, and two twin females. "Ms. Fen, I presume. I am Doctor Lochan Xextos. What can you tell me about the nature of the patient's injuries? How did it happen? Take me to him."

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya stood alone, scattering the faces of those she deemed important. Jedi or no jedi, precautions had to be taken. If this Captain suceeded in saving Mikhail then he would walk away with nothing more than the name 'Fen'. Of course, spoken in the right places to the right people, the name still bore weight, was still spoken with hatred and mistrust. She could handle being known, her business, her staff, that could unravel everything. Oh, if only Mikhail knew what she was risking to bring him back from wherever her had gone.

Hands resting at her side, red eyes surveyed the Captain and his guards, committing faces to memory, making notes of the Echani roots. The race always brought Spencer to the forefront of her mind. She clicked her tongue and pushed all distractions aside. "I can only speculate in their nature. There was a...fight." she pursed her lips, beckoning the Doctor forward, glancing an suspicious eye over his guardians before leading the way to the small med-bay where Mikhail was resting. "He picked a fight with a mentalist, from what I saw of the incident, he was stripped of his humanity. Acting like more like the Garhoon than the man he is. Beyond that I can tell you nothing, aside from that he was shot and I've not been able to rouse him since." She palmed the switch for the med-bay doors. It wasn't much of a bay, more of a room, fit to treat one patient with any physical injury.

Mikhail rested upon the bed in the rooms centre and for a moment Anaya hovered in the doorway, heart hammering. She had exhausted all other options, what choice did she have now. Manu was here because the force willed him to be. Casting a sideways glance at the glowing healer she shifted into the room and moved to stand next to Mikhail, her eyes ever watchful of the invaders in her home.

[member="Manu Xextos"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Garhoon and humanity, eh? I'm not used to those words fitting together at the best of times." The Echani doctor was expecting a non-humanoid when, lo and behold: [member="Mikhail Shorn"] was far from Manu's memory of a Garhoon. "Evolution does crazy things in a few hundred years." He muttered, rubbing his cheek with the backs of his knuckles and telekinetically pulling a stool over to Shorn's bedside. The doctor scanned through pages of data on Shorn's condition and checked vitals, pressures and blood content levels.

"Physically seems to be checking out... getting iron depleted. Kavi, put him on a platelet expander drip. 3ppi. Mentalist, hmm? Only a couple of those I know are about with enough skill to rip a man's mind from him. Know what the fight was about? Anything you can tell me will guide me." One of the Guards broke away from their vigil and did as Manu asked, silently going back to his place around the Xextos Progenitor. "Ms. Fen, this is going to take me some time. While I'm in his mind my family will be my defence. I trust you care enough about the health and wellness of this man to know should you do anything to either of us, he's dead. I don't say that as a threat, we might not be perfectly still and I need you to believe me right now that I will handle this situation and your friend will be fine. Might get a bit heated, but that's up to his mind and what's left." Sitting on the stool, Manu put both of his sizeable hands on either side of Mikhail's temples.

The hands flickered and began to shine with a brilliant silver light. Manu's silver eyes searched down into Mikhail's and Shorn's eyes flashed open. His body would stiffen, then relax as Manu Xextos searched into the portals of the Garhoon's mind and found entrance. ". . . Jared?" A whisper on his lips. Manu's head tilted to the side as he pushed further in, waiting for a response from the patient's ruined cortex.

[member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya shook her head silently in response, lips tightly shut. She didn't know what the fight was about, she dare not mention Jared or anyone else. She dare not mention the child, for fear that the healer would get up and walk away. Fear was not something Anaya was used to. "I can't..." she said her voice cracking slightly. Conflict raged within her, torn between her desperation to see him live and her desire to remain detached from everything and everyone. Tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away. Then the healer spoke, a whispered name and Anaya crumbled.

"Chaos devour me, I will regret this." she breathed "His name is Mikhail Shorn, he was fighting with Jared Ovmar. I can tell you that the air was thick with the zeltron infatuation drug, and I can tell you there was a woman involved but honestly? I can't tell you anything else, because I have nothing else to tell." Why was she doing this? Mikhail hated her, he always would hate her, bound in his hate by his own unrequited love of Spencer Jacobs. Maybe part of her hoped this would change things, for better or worse. Mikhail would either wake and thank her, perhaps be less cold towards her, or he would lash out as he always did and she would...

She would what? Kill him? No. Whether he cared for her or not, she needed his own version of chaos to keep the galaxy busy. After though? After she would kill him, simply to sever the ties that bound her to these emotions. She drew up a stool, sitting opposite Manu as he worked and she waited.

[member="Manu Xextos"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

I am Jared's ruined soul. I am he who remains. The sun does not shine where I am, nor can I glimpse the soft glimmer of stars. I am alone. Alone in the dark. I am that which travels in the shadow of death.

Memory of how long I have been this way escapes me. What is memory to the imprint of a human soul? For that is all I am, a footnote in Jared Ovmar and Mikhail Shorn's story. A convergence of souls, a knot left behind by fumbling hands when two ropes did part. I am that which binds.

Sudden silvery illumination burns through my loneliness, an end to my long tunnel. I care not whether it be death or salvation. I pray only for an end to this strange suffering in which I hear the torments that assail the creature who occupies this body. I am a passenger in a ship headed for collision, but I cannot speak. I am that which must listen.

At last, gentle fingers close about me and I heave a sigh, though the light burns. For I am a shade who must cringe at the coming of dawn. Clarity seizes me, throttling the life from my being, but what is life for me? I am he that remains.

I am the remembered thoughts of fevered minds.

The body I inhabit gives way before the soft, silver hue and I feel myself fading like the morning mist beneath the sun's cleansing rays. The light kills me, but I wish for that which comes after. Where do memories go when they die?

I watch the creature of this body writhe on a table, brain broken by my brothers and sisters. Opposing thoughts at war.

I am not at war.

I am dying.

Memory of what I am, the collection of Jared Ovmar's life story, turns to dust and I feel my time is at an end.

I go. I go. I g-

[member="Manu Xextos"] [member="Anaya Fen"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

The old Empath in his brain could feel the tremors radiating off of the Twi'lek he knew only as 'Fen', while the waves slicing through Shorn hit him with the urge to curl into a ball and weep like a three year old with no hope of dessert. Manu sat back and looked over at Fen and his mouth parted. He glared between [member="Mikhail Shorn"] and [member="Anaya Fen"] and a deep basso groan plied through his throat. "Ovmar involved? Of course it was about a woman. Remind me not to piss him off, when he's around one of his women." The Echani gave a hefty sigh and dug in.

The room burst with pre-dawn darkness. No light stroked the caverns of [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s aching mind, none but the waxing illumination of Manu Xextos. Waves of lethe's balmy ignorance washed across the tattered remnants of Shorn's mind and as Manu felt the memories slip, he ushered them further up and out. They weren't Mikhail's, and it was probably the source of at least some of Shorn's . . . 'decadent' behaviour. As the memories of Jared furl away, I feel their passing as I have felt thousands of passings over my lifespan. The scene is coming together - heat, passion, an absolved responsibility of action under the influence of chemical compounds used precariously. The violence comes later, I can't see it but feel it, feel the upshot pain sinking into Mikhail's mind and ripping wantonly apart. Lobe from lobe, torn. Blocking the Peace of the Force around himself, the Empath Master let the pain come. He let Jared's pain soak into him as poison soaks a fresh wound. To the fleeing rustles of Jared's imprint, the former Jedi Master gave peace.

'I should liquify this man's mind and be done with it.' Manu's thought touched upon the empty caverns as he felt another waft of consciousness vanish to the ether. 'No you don't.' Manu's mental presence wrapped around the fragile heart of Shorn as Ovmar floated off, pulling Mikhail back and anchoring the Garhoon's piecemeal presence to a tether inside Mikhail's own mind. Slip by slip, Manu began reconnecting the logic, reasoning and humanity of the man's spirit from the rags left by Jared's panicked, painful attacks.

'You've got too many thoughts in your head, Mikhail. Come on man, where are you? Man, Garhoon, Panty-Plealer. Come out, come out.' As if walking through a fallow field, Manu walked the pathways of Mikhail's mind cleansing the doubt, the fear, locating the emotions which brought him there. He was close to something, an answer or a path already taken.

What had Mikhail done that his own mind would not let himself heal?

[member="Anaya Fen"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"]

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A figure shivered in the deepest, darkest recesses of this shard of the mind. Manu's searching thoughts glowed with a soft, silver light that cast illumination even in this remote realm of Horr. The figure curled up, fingers curling into ragged raven hair.

"Let me alone. Let me die. Let me die. I deserve this. I deserve to die. I deserve everything. I- I- I- who am I? What am I?" He whimpered softly to himself, over and over again. "Monster... I am a monster. I am their monster. I am their creation. They did this. They should burn. They should suffer. Why me? Why? Alexis. Alexis please... N-no. Please. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Tear tracks stained the creature's grimy face.

"Younglings. I killed them," the voice snarled, raw and visceral. "I slaughtered them like sheep. I ate their spirits. I absorbed them. They were fuel for the fires of my hate. And. I. Enjoyed It." It laughed, cackling, howling.

"They are all prey. Food. Let me feed on their flesh. Aaaaah, Andra."

"N-No!"

"Yes, her blood would make a fine wine. Mmmmm. I want to taste it again."

"NO!" The creature clutched his head, sobbing, writhing in agony. Suddenly, it seemed to become aware of the light from Manu. It whirled on him, baring teeth and screeching in a voice of a thousand anguished moments, "LET ME DIE!"

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Not going to happen. Not leaving you in here like this." Calm, mighty pristine calm and control of self was what the Master brought: a tranquility bred through the conquest of mental fission. At one point, the Master had gone mad.

"Andra... by the Force, you didn't thrash Jared's 'she's a convenience but in reality she's my special woman' around, did... yes... yes you did. Still not going to leave you here. Show me your pain, Mikhail. I will help you bear it." A cascade of inner demons lashed out at the figure's thrashing body. Manu stood in mental silence as he listened to [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s sordid tale and emotional discord. In Manu's pocket was a single smooth stone. Bringing the stone up to his lips, Manu blew on it until it ignited with silver fire and he skipped it upon the surface of Mikhail's mind like a stone on smooth water. Instantly the fighting demons and torturing memories lifted off in spitting scorn and gnashing teeth, and Mikhail was thrashing and wailing on a bed of rich blue grass, a golden yellow sun pushing the horrors out - for now.

He sat on the ground near Mikhail, knees pointed up and elbows on his knees, he did not panic or quake when Mikhail lunged and thrashed, but in infinite hope Manu held up a hand and a wall of Light arrested Shorn's forward motion, with the intent of allowing the man to stumble back freely. "Yes. You do deserve to die. You deserve no mercy and you have paid for no grace. You're a murderer, a torturer, a drinker of stolen blood and a thief in the night. You are the epitome of destruction: you who tore down thrones and women alike. You hunger for inhuman food and you fight with a casual flippancy that rots the stomachs of better men."

The consternation of his words was absent in Manu's eyes - those ever catching, ever seeing silver eyes, which gave off nothing but tranquility run deeper than a canyon cut into the crust of a deep-set planet. He was the long-born spirit of redemption, a black-hearted soulless killer the Light refused to release and now it made him strong. "Neither of us deserve the chances we're given. And yet death isn't coming for you today. You earn death. You fight till its fingers clam up your spine, and you don't stop because you've done evil things. Men like you and me are given missions to fulfill no matter how much the taint loves our bones. You are Mikhail Shorn, a human turned Garhoon who is more salvageable than the planet Tythe's dead wastelands. You are not without empathy, not without sympathy and not without honour. It's a skewed honour I'll give you that, but tell me Mikhail, what do you want to do with the time you have left? Why do you want to kill the Monster inside?"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

"BECAUSE I ENJOY IT!" The tormented voice screamed at the silver light, running raw and ragged. "She wants me to be better, they all want me to be the better man. But that's just not who I am."

The dirt stained figure rose to his feet, a pale blue glow in his eyes. The reflection of the moon off a wintry glacier. Long, unkempt hair hung nearly to his eyes.

"The Sith took me and turned me into this... this thing. And my father-" a humorless bark, "My father made me like him. I am so hungry, all the time. The only way I can survive it is to enjoy it. And I do, I enjoy the power and the feel. I love it!" He hissed, "But I always hurt the people I love. I am done. I feel the lives I've taken. I pretend I don't, but, but I do and it burns me. I don't want to burn anymore. I'm done. Done hurting. Done feeling. Kill me, before I kill someone else."

He pleaded, staring at the silver-haloed figure.

"The only reason for me to keep living is to kill the people who made me this way. I have nothing left."

[member="Manu Xextos"]

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Sit down Mikhail." Manu watched the man pace and pitch himself in the fervour of a damaged mind. Had such sins been foreign to the former Jedi, he'd have slaughtered Mikhail Shorn in his own mind there and then. He still might give Mikhail the exit he sought, a release from the tempest of his own doing and the designs of others, but however just Manu Xextos was not a fair man. Mikhail Shorn would suffer as Manu had suffered and glut himself on years of the damned plague. Years of redemption and battling the urges which made murderers of men. He picked at the grass, sending tufts up into the ether to spiral and dance in a breeze they couldn't feel.

"It's the release. The wound-up tension that snaps when they do. The ability to feel it when their emotions switch, when the terror turns . . . which she are you referring to? Alexis? Spencer? Andra? I'd like to say my wife made me a better man, but it's not the truth. Erryn gave me a reason to pursue the battle fields I found, she gave me the stimulus to plunge into the hectic depths for a salvation I chased but never found. And it felt... the battle is bliss. Throwing myself mercilessly at those I thought would hurt or had hurt her, our kids, my people? It was an unholy absolution. You're suffering and you should. So should I. I can help you control the Garhoon hunger. You'll still feel it, but I can help you control it. Who are you hurting now? Who do you love?"

As Manu looked up at the pacing astral body of [member="Mikhail Shorn"], he decided killing the man was too easy and too much of a waste. "So men like us, we pick our targets. We point at the evil that damaged us, that moulded and formed us and we ring its' death knell in a clockwork rhythm until it's all gone and our bodies and souls are spent upon their ruin. Splayed out for that great rest which will be heaven on our bones. Ask forgiveness for those you've hurt by destroying that which prevents them from living a better life. Kill the monsters that would harm them, take out the systems that would enslave them. Take grace from their lives improving. It can be done, Mikhail. You can do it."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The ragged shade of a man slumped back upon the ground. More broken now than he had ever been in his life before. Not since being hugged and forgiven by the woman he killed. Amore. He still did not understand how she had forgiven him. He didn't understand anything, it seemed.

"I-..." he shook his head, fingers reaching up to grasp unwashed hair. "I'm talking about all of them. I killed Alexis. I didn't mean to, but I felt so angry and... and Spencer, she never loved me. Andra? I don't... I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I'm falling apart. Every time I reach out to pick up on of the pieces another three fall off."

"Who would I protect?" he rasped. "Lucien? I poisoned him. Andra? I almost killed her. Twice. Half the governments of the galaxy would hold a parade at my death. I know Jared would. I don't build," pale eyes gave way to liquid gold tinged by red. "I destroy. I burn."

"You say you know what it feels like," Mikhail whispered, words full of venom and confused anger mixed with tears of grief, "then riddle me this, angel, what do you do when the biggest monster that might harm the ones you love... is you?"

 

[Manu Xextos]

"Use the guilt as fuel. You're a Sith, Sith are good at that. Emotions and passions. Let the pieces fall, mourn their passing and pick another one up. Look to what you can repair and what you can keep safe. Don't use your past as the great excuse use it as the motivator. Come with me, Mikhail. Think of what two of us could do, taking it to the bastards that did this. I'm sorry about Amore and Alexis. Those are fires I cannot heal, but I can offer you the idea to use them. Let it fuel your exploits to ensure it never happens again."

Manu wrapped healing tendrils around Mikhail's crumbling mind to imbue the compassion and conscience left to the man with a further resilience. Piece by piece the Healer continued to knit Shorn's mind back together - bolstering here, "All I know is what I see, and I see a lot of pain you've caused. Anguish, death, heartache. But I also see people willing to forgive. Willing to have you on their side. Pretty damn useful, man. All my people are dead. Well, I found some new ones. Descendants'll do that for a man."

"You're talking to the man who meditated alone on a mountainside for a year and a half so I could look my people in the eye without ripping their throats from their necks... I kept fighting. I found worse men and killed them without remorse. I'm still doing it 'cause I know what we are. We're the symptoms not the cause and it's our time to eradicate that cause. I can teach you to guard your mind, to hold the reins tighter, but ultimately? If the ones you love make the decision to love you and stay, then that's worth half the universe. Yes, protect Lucien. Protect Andra, and Jared and the people of the Fringe. Protect any and everyone that isn't being a grade-a Sith-spawn xhar'chath. You're not sunk yet.

Quite simply, be the Destroyer. Every worthwhile destruction cleans a bit more from your soul. Find enough people in the universe that want to build it and take down the systems and entities in their way. Make a path for the Creators to exercise their gifts."

 

[Lord Ghoul]

The words made sense. Mikhail did not know who this entity in his mind was, but somehow... he understood him. How often had Shorn cursed Spencer and others, Jedi, for attempting to redeem him when they did not understand what it was like to be enslaved to desire. But this person... this thing inside his mind... he understood what it was like to be an incarnation of chaos. He did not offer redemption, or even absolution. He merely offered direction. Mikhail had spurned the direction of others, because they sought to manipulate him and use him to their own will. But in Shorn's mind there could be no hidden motives. The intentions were pure.

Defend those he loved by destroying those he hated. Easy. So easy. He just needed to remember who fell under the umbrella of his affection.

Only a few names came to mind. Yet, those few names that gave him courage in the face of death's gaping maws. He clung to them, letting them fill him up. They gave him reason to live again. Yes, he could see it now. He would destroy anyone who would try to harm them. He would burn the galaxy itself down. Anything for them. Anything for the only ones who had dared to stand by him despite all he had done.

The sobbing ceased. The torment was still there, but the regret and hatred and strife had all been knotted up into a fist full of purpose. Mikhail looked up at the silver-haloed man.

"I understand," he rasped hoarsely. "I will."

He would not always be perfect. He would not always be true. But what more could be asked of man than to give his all?

 

[Manu Xextos]

As [member="Mikhail Shorn"] sobbed, Manu continued to flood the recesses of his mind with the tranquil peace of direction. There was no better method of repair for a man than the application of a purpose, a vector in which to move. Let Shorn work through it fighting. Let him work through it as a war hammer works through the air toward the unfortunate target at its' arc's end. "Hold to that understanding. Keep strong to it, and when you're weak? You're not alone. Find me."

Manu let the man grieve. He created and sustained an environment for the sole purpose of repair and consolation, a moment Shorn could return to in order to 'top up' on his purpose and mission. It would have to be enough for now. "Good. Find me any time, and we'll hunt the unworthy and take them down. For now, rest. I'll stay as long as it takes to continue patching up your mind until you wake up." His mind flickered to the outside universe, he felt outward to [member="Anaya Fen"] and his descendants.

Manu stood up and dusted off. "When you're ready, there's a red skinned Twi'lek named Fen something-or-other out there. . . gotta say it, she seems a bit nuts. Tried to intimidate me... yeah, that turned out well for her pride. What's her deal? Do you want to be around her, or do you need an exit strategy?"

 

[Lord Ghoul]

Exhaustion overcame Mikhail, even in these dark recesses. Sleep born from a conscience that, while not guilt-free, felt unburdened... repurposed. Rest, yes. He would rest. Dreams began to overtake him, a repose from the incessant nightmares. He reached out to them with hoping fingers. Sleep.

"Hmm? Anaya Fen?" He muttered wearily, not comprehending. "I do not- Anaya Fe- oh no."

Something like terror flashed through him, but it could not shake off his slumber.

Mikhail Shorn's conscience passed out.

 

[Manu Xextos]

The heady application of a peaceful and calm place for his consciousness to be had been relatively simple for the Rogue Master, and he wrapped [member="Mikhail Shorn"]'s consciousness in a boon of Manu's devising. Not forgiveness, but the contentment that rises from knowing that future labour makes atonement for past sin.

It all went well, until Mikhail mentioned [member="Anaya Fen"]. "Wait, who is sh-ah! Shorn."

Manu flung open his eyes, his hands holding steady by Mikhail's temples. He jolted placed both thumbs on Shorn's forehead to continue the safety which would allow the Garhoon rest. Glancing aside at Anaya Fen, Manu's jaw went tight. His eyes flashed and he nodded to his Guardsmen. Think fast, Manu! Fast as a Force Speeder in a Pod Race.

"Ms. Fen, I'm making progress and it's going well. I've been in contact with Shorn's consciousness and it's threading together. I've done all that can be done here, with the resources you possess. We'll take him with us to Tythe, my hospital is there and on Tythe Mikhail Shorn can make a full recovery in safety. Once he's on his feet, he'll be free to go." Manu released his hands from Shorn's head and stood up, a flick of his fingers had the Echani around him beginning to gurney and prepare Shorn for the trip. One thing was for certain: Manu wasn't going to leave Shorn to a Twi'lek whose name incited that much terror and horror.

 

[Nisha Decrilla]

Anaya watched it all in silence, slowly bringing her emotions under control, bringing rationale back into play. As Manu came back from wherever he went, she caught the glance, she caught the tightened jaw. She listened to the tale and bowed her head as the guardsmen moved, a smirk forming on her face. A chuckle slipped from her and she brought a hand up to her mouth. "Goodness, how stupid you must think I am. Crazy little sith with her emotions all out of whack. Did he tell you how much he despises me?" She shook her head, eyes flicking to the ceiling as tears blurred them.

"Of course he did." She blinked against the hot tears, trying to find it in her to be angry, to find another emotion to channel, but she'd exhausted it all. She gave up, letting them carve tracks down her cheeks as she stared at Mikhail's face. He looked so peaceful, that was something she'd never seen. She'd always seen the torment, even when he masked it under snark and anger, she saw it. She did nothing to stop them preparing, what was the point? If Mikhail did not want to be here, forcing him to remain would do nothing to help his case.

"I am cursed, Captain Xextos, to care for those who can never return the same affection. With every one that recoils from me, compassion slips further out of my reach." Rising from her stool she leant to press her lips against Mikhail's forehead and then stepped back, allowing the guardsmen to begin wheeling him away from her. Her chest ached, her hand passed over it, coming to rest on an old scar. A bitter laugh escaped her.

"You tell that bastard, when he wakes up, that I still owe him."

[member="Manu Xextos"][member="Mikhail Shorn"]