Private Locked Rooms and Old Fires

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Varin opened his mouth to speak but then stopped as he looked at his feet.

“I feel the drums are my home. Who and what I truly am.”

He spoke quietly as his gaze followed along the floor then to her, unblinking, not challenging.

“Victory has costs, always. Those who did not achieve their victory did not pay enough, for various reasons. The most common ones were they did not have the guts to pay it, or the price was too steep compared to the weight of the outcome.”

He scoffed slightly.

“What can drive someone to victory could turn them into something far worse than they were before. A razor's edge that is so delicately walked or in some cases, fumbled over until someone falls from grace. What I sacrifice for my victories, it changes me. Every time I come out a different person when I come out of it.”

His shoulders tensed.

“I feel I’m either losing myself or finding who and what I truly am. That confusion is what frightens me the most. Not the state of being itself.”

Varin after a moment of silence felt a prickling sensation up his spine. A feeling he had not had sense…

Varin’s eyes widened as his chest started to thud, a cold sensation washing over his body as a feeling he had not felt in so long wash over him…

Fear

His breath caught then he looked at the wall past Shade, his hands shaking.

“He’s….here…”

He spoke quietly, almost to himself before his gaze locked with Shade’s.

“Do not let him in. There is someone that just arrived. Do NOT let him in here.”

His foot stepped back bumping into his cot before he sat down. His chest tightened and his breathing became erratic. He had not experienced this feeling since his…home.

Shade​

 

[Shade]

Shade had been listening without interruption, her posture remaining steady and her attention fixed on Varin with the same quiet, unwavering focus she had carried since their conversation began. When he spoke of the drums and the hollow nature of victory, as well as the steep cost that inevitably followed, she did not offer any argument or dissent. None of what he described surprised her, for she had long understood that warriors were shaped by the fires of their battles, though some simply survived the tempering process better than others.

"Victory always demands payment," she said evenly once he had finished, her voice remaining low and calm as she let the words settle between them. "Sometimes the price is measured in blood on the battlefield, and sometimes it is measured in what you find yourself becoming afterward."

Her eyes studied him with a clinical yet not unkind care, reading the exhaustion in the lines of his face.

"You are not the first person to question whether the fight is revealing the core of who you are, or if it is slowly erasing you entirely."

There was no judgment to be found in the observation, only the flat delivery of a truth she had witnessed many times before. Then, the shift happened, and she saw the change in him before a single word had even left his lips.

The tension in his shoulders shifted first, then his breathing became short and shallow, and finally his attention snapped past her toward the wall with a frantic suddenness that did not belong to the quiet conversation they had been having. It was fear, pure and sharp, and that was a variable that had been missing until this exact moment.

Shade did not move immediately when he issued his warning, nor did she rush to the door or dismiss his reaction as a mere trick of the mind. Instead, her head turned slightly toward the direction Varin had looked, her awareness expanding outward for a brief moment as she searched the local environment before her focus returned to him. The facility outside the cell remained quiet, with no alarms blaring and no raised voices echoing through the corridors, leaving the area with an air of normalcy.

To anyone else, there was nothing obvious, but Shade knew all too well that obvious things were rarely the real threat. Her gaze settled back on him as he sat down, his hands trembling with a visible rhythm that spoke of a deep-seated terror.

"I hear you."

The response was calm and measured, a deliberate anchor in the rising tide of his panic. She neither confirmed nor denied the presence of anyone outside the room, instead leaning into the authority of her position.

"No one is entering this cell without my authorization."

That much was a simple procedure, a fact of the facility's security that she stated with absolute certainty. Shade remained exactly where she was, giving him the necessary space to breathe rather than approaching while he struggled to regain his composure and steady himself.

"Varin," she said quietly, her tone carrying the same steady grounding she had used throughout the entirety of their talk.

"Who are you sensing?"

A small, heavy pause followed before she added a second, more pointed question.

"And why does his presence frighten you?"

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

His attempt to take deep breaths were short lived as his chest tightened. The sound of His voice, that terrible voice as he ripped through his home, slaughtering soldiers and servants alike. Then he remembered those eyes. The eyes of the man that killed his family. His fists clenched as he attempted to suck in more air, only for the muscles of his chest to cut the effort short and prerelease the air from his lungs.

His heart pounded within his chest drowning out most of the noise within his ears as they rang. He could hear the battle that happened on his home as if it were happening now.

But Shade did not move. She didn’t Hear it.

His voice tried to struggle to answer her as she asked her first question of who he was sensing, jumbled words and syllables were the only sounds he could manage.

Then the why question hit him.

His gaze shot to her, not in anger or aggression, but in confusion.

He…was terrified?

Scared?

He had trained so hard so that he could take on this being but he was…just a mere child like he was when he crash landed on Korriban.

The coldness crept into his bones as he struggled to answer.

Shade​

 

[Allan Alhune]

The security officers exchanged a quick look at the name.

Recognition.

One of them stepped forward, posture tightening slightly as the other activated a wrist comm.

“Hold position,” the lead officer said evenly. “Mortifer is a high-security detainee under Republic Intelligence authority.”

The second guard spoke quietly into the comm unit.

“Control, this is Bay Three. We have an individual claiming High Republic authority requesting transfer of detainee Varin Mortifer. Requesting verification of credentials and transfer authorization.”

A brief pause followed as the line remained open.

The lead officer turned his attention back to Allan, his expression professional but guarded.

“You’ll need to present identification and your authorization codes,” he said, extending a hand. “Mortifer’s custody status requires confirmation before any transfer can be processed.”

The second guard shifted slightly, positioning himself near the shuttle ramp.

“Until then,” he added calmly, “the prisoner remains under Republic Intelligence control.”

Allan’s posture straightened a glint in his eye of amusement. His hand slowly lifted as a pulse of vibration around him buzzed into the heads of the security members around him.

“The RIS has been holding this prisoner for High Republic questioning. Such an exceptional danger to this prison should be shipped to those of more…specialized tactics of questioning. Tactics from a Master Jedi such as myself.”

The guard closest to him went blank, eyes dilated as his body slacked some.

“Very well, Master Jedi.”

The security followed with him as they opened the door for him into the facility. The first area was quiet, empty chairs, soft light and a reception desk. He approached as he signed his name on the roster. He remained silent as he finished his signature and the receptionist looked it over, mouth open to speak before Allan’s violet eyes flared, the iris’ sharpening into vertical slits.

“Please tell me, all of my credentials are in order.”

He smiled as the receptionist smiled back.

“Of course Mr.Alhune. A guide will be with you shortly, please have a seat. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Allan nodded slowly.

“Very well madam.”

He slowly turned around and took his seat as he waited for the guide to call upon him.

Shade | Varin Mortifer​

 

[Shade]

Shade did not move as Varin's breathing began to fracture. She had witnessed this kind of unraveling before. On battlefields and in cold interrogation rooms. Where the body simply refused to obey the mind. But what she saw in Varin now wasn't just panic; it was the sharp, jagged edge of recognition. To him, the threat wasn't a phantom of the mind; it was a physical weight in the room.

Instead of dismissing his fear, she remained a fixed point in his collapsing world, her presence steady and deliberate.

"Varin," she said, her voice quiet but firm enough to anchor him against the spiral. "Look at me."

Her crimson eyes locked onto his, patient and unblinking, refusing to let him drift. "You said someone arrived," she continued, treating the claim not as a delusion, but as a tactical reality. "I need you to focus long enough to tell me who. Not the fear, Varin. The name."

She allowed a single, slow breath to pass, her gaze dropping briefly to the white-knuckled tension in his hands before returning to his face.

"Who do you believe is here? Is it someone from your past? Someone who hurt you?"

Her tone remained a calm, guiding light, pulling him back toward the concrete. She tilted her head slightly, noting the way his eyes kept darting toward the shadows of the wall. "You sensed him before you saw him," she murmured, her voice lowering another fraction. "That is why you reacted. Tell me his name."

It wasn't an order. It was a lifeline, offered through the dark to pull him back to clarity.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace

Varin's gaze snapped to her when she asked for clarification on who was here. His fists clenched along with his teeth as his jaw set.

He struggled to speak as if he forced his voice to say what he needed to say, what all he knew of this…thing.

“I…don't know who or what he is.”

He sneered as he took another sharp breath, one that sounded as if they were thrown into the depths of a frozen lake. Sweat beaded from his brow as he slowly stood back up.

“He…took everything from me…”

He spoke through gritted teeth as his body tensed.

“My home, fell because of him…”

His eyes finally found hers as the feeling of this man, this thing was creeping closer.

His body felt like a full muscle cramp, unable to move, what breaths he could take were still shallow, quick and harsh. When he tried to slow his breathing his body seemed to reject the control, forcing the air back out of his lungs.

“And now he has come to finish the job.”

His gaze fell back to the back wall, on the door that led to the outside of the cells. Not plotting his escape, but waiting for an inevitability. Patiently watching for the familiar face and eyes to walk in.

Shade​

 

[Shade]

Shade did not move immediately, remaining as still as a statue carved from the very shadows she inhabited, her patience a weapon in its own right. She watched him with a clinical, predatory focus that looked past his desperate words and his outward anger, choosing instead to map the erratic betrayal of his body. She noted the jagged hitch in his breath and the way his muscles locked with a frantic rigidity, as if the very oxygen in the room had turned into a solid, hostile weight against his skin. She knew from long experience that panic was rarely a loud or explosive thing in its early stages; more often, it looked exactly like this. A simmering, controlled rage wrapped tightly around a core of fear that had reached its limit and found nowhere to go.

Her eyes shifted once toward the door he had fixed his attention on, calculating the distance and the frame's structural integrity, before her gaze drifted back to him with a weight that was both deliberate and agonizingly measured. When she finally spoke, her voice was a low, even vibration that broke the silence without disturbing it, sounding completely unhurried by the supposed urgency of his threats.

"You are in my custody," she stated, her tone making the words feel less like a claim and more like a physical law of the universe.

She stepped closer, moving with a fluid, economical grace that didn't quite crowd his personal space but ensured the distance between them was no longer impersonal or safe. Her hands remained loose and deceptively relaxed at her sides, while her posture remained perfectly straight. The unwavering calm of a professional who had already mentally cataloged every exit, every tactical approach, and every potential mistake that could be made in the coming minutes.

Her gaze held his, refusing to let him look away or sink further into his own spiraling thoughts.

"You will breathe," she told him, the phrase landing not as a command shouted across the room to be obeyed, but as a cold statement of fact placed between them like a physical barrier.

She let the silence settle heavily for a long moment, allowing the weight of her presence to anchor him before she continued.

"Whoever it is you believe is coming for you…" her head tilted slightly to the side, her crimson eyes narrowing just a fraction as she considered the variables, "…will find that you are not nearly as unguarded as they might have hoped."

Another small pause followed, one that seemed to stretch the tension in the room to a breaking point. Shade's expression did not soften: if anything, her features became more immovable, taking on a finality that suggested the matter was already decided.

"You have my word on that," she added, the words simple and entirely unembellished by the need for theatrics. "If anyone enters through that door intending to do you harm, they will find that they have to answer to me before they ever lay a finger on you."

Her eyes flicked briefly to the door again, acknowledging the threat without fearing it, before her focus returned to Varin.

"You are my prisoner," she said, her voice remaining impossibly calm despite the chaos he feared. "And in my world, that means you are under my absolute protection."

It was a heavy promise, for Shade was a woman who did not give her word lightly, and once given, it was as unbreakable as the durasteel walls surrounding them.

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace

Varin's gaze sharpened as she spoke. Her voice was like a dagger that cut through the noise and tore the veil from his eyes that seemed to blind him to his fear.

She gave her words. An oath of sorts.

But Varin knew that whatever was coming would shred that oath to pieces and dance over them.

His fists clenched as he started to gain some footing and movement within his body. The distraction from the feeling giving him just enough edge to breath and settle his body, as he felt the figure drawing nearer.

He opened his mouth to speak, then shoved the urge deep down inside. I mattered not what he said to her. She had already made her promise to him, and he knew she would do good to the best of her capabilities.

But he knew it would not be enough in the end.

He sat back down on his cot as he focused. Remembering the force suppression was removed from him.

He focused on what bit of strength he could muster to help her turn the tide. The runes dimly lit like dying lights as he breathed.

Shade​

 

[Allan Alhune]

The two Republic Intelligence security officers exchanged a brief glance when Allan gave the name.

Recognition passed between them almost immediately.

One of them tapped a short sequence into the terminal beside the landing pad while the other regarded Allan with a neutral, professional expression.

“Mortifer,” the officer repeated, confirming the entry on the screen. “Your clearance request came through earlier.”

He keyed his comm unit at his collar.

“Control, Bay Four. Visitor for Mortifer has arrived. Send escort.”

A short burst of static answered back with a confirmation.

The officer stepped aside from the ramp, gesturing toward the interior corridor of the landing bay complex.

“Someone will be here in a moment to take you down to the containment wing,” he said evenly. “Mortifer’s being held under Intelligence supervision, so you’ll need an escort the whole way.”

The second guard folded his hands behind his back, watching Allan with quiet attentiveness.

“Standard procedure,” he added. “You’ll also have to clear a security checkpoint before you enter the holding area.”

A few moments later the distant sound of approaching boots echoed down the corridor as another RIS agent appeared, datapad in hand.

The agent stopped a few steps away, giving Allan a brief assessing look before nodding once.

“You’re here for Mortifer,” the escort said.

He turned and motioned for Allan to follow.

“Come with me. And stay close. That wing has more doors than most people care to remember.

Allan slowly stood from his seat like a rising shadow growing with the setting sun.

“Of course. Lead the way.”

He walked beside the escort into the halls remaining silent as his eyes observed the route they took. Taking in every turn and every wall that led to dead ends.

When they reached the security checkpoint Allan stepped forward ready to comply as they ran a routine of checking for concealed weapons and stepping through machines that would check for further hidden equipment.

The only thing they would find is his lightsaber. When they stated they would need to hold on to it, he gave them a slow nod.

“Of course. You do what you need to.”

After the routine check he then had to once again sign off his name, which he did with a precise flourish.

After the paperwork was checked they then led him into further halls, drawing nearer to the cell area Varin was held in.

Shade​

 

[Shade]

Shade watched the shift take hold of him, the exact moment when the jagged edges of panic gave way to something colder and far more focused. It wasn't a natural calm that settled over Varin, but rather the heavy weight of discipline forcing itself back into place through sheer necessity.

Her crimson eyes tracked the subtle, rhythmic glow of the runes as he gathered his strength, drawing on whatever internal reserves remained after the initial wave of fear had finished shaking him. She didn't move to interrupt the process; if he required these few precious seconds to steady his breathing and reclaim command over his own body, she was content to grant them.

However, she was far from blind to what he had sensed. A distinct change had rippled through the air of the facility. It was not a shift she could perceive through the Force, but one felt through the sharp edge of honed instinct. Years spent in the shadows of intelligence work had taught her to recognize the quiet, almost imperceptible tilt of a situation long before it ever became visible to the naked eye.

Someone had arrived.

Despite the mounting tension, Shade did not reach for her weapon or move toward the door to investigate. Instead, she remained perfectly still, a figure of composed shadow watching him with a quiet, unwavering attention that was more anchoring than any physical shield.

"Good," she said softly, her voice cutting through the silence as his breathing finally leveled out. "Stay with that feeling."

Her gaze flicked briefly toward the reinforced seal of the cell door before returning to his face with clinical precision. "If someone is coming, panicking only serves to help them, while maintaining your control is the only thing that helps us."

There was no trace of urgency in her tone as she folded her arms loosely, continuing to study him for another long moment. "You said he is here," she prompted, tilting her head slightly as she gave him something specific to fixate on. "Then tell me exactly what you feel. Is he alone, or has he brought others, and is he currently moving toward this wing?"

She offered the questions as anchors, providing him with a framework to ground his racing mind. "You do not need to concern yourself with fighting him right now," she added in a quiet, steadying murmur. "In this moment, your only task is to tell me what you sense."

Varin Mortifer

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace


Varin's focused only sharpened as she spoke. Her questions heard and processed as he dug deeper. The Force within him still weakened as he tried to push to sense where Allan was and if there were any allies with him.

His fists clenched as he closed his eyes tighter, breathing deeper and at a slow rhythm. He felt a cold sensation in the building. Devoid of emotion, regret or empathy. There was no rage, no battle lust within this being. But he was drawing closer. He could sense escorts around him.

Varin concentrated a bit further as his nose started to bleed. His voice straining to speak.

“...escorts…he draws closer…”

A sense of dread overtook him as Allan seemed to stop in the hall and reach out towards Varin's link, severing it completely.

His eyes shot open as the door clicked behind shade. The lock disengaging. It hissed as it slid open to reveal the silhouette of a figure.

Shade​

 

[Allan Alhune]

The officer watched Allan sign the authorization slate, the datapad flickering green as identity and clearance were validated. With a nod, the officer confirmed the access while another agent stepped forward, holding a containment case where Allan’s lightsaber had been secured.

“Your weapon will be returned upon exit,” the agent noted. “Standard protocol.”

The escort gestured toward the restricted corridor. “Stay close and do not touch the security panels.”

They moved past reinforced blast doors into a high-security wing where durasteel gave way to suppression grids. At the final entrance, the escort keyed a sequence.

“Force-sensitive containment,” he muttered as the door hissed open.

Two RIS officers stood guard at the inner console. One glanced at his screen, then up at Allan. “You’re here for Mortifer?”

Allan nodded.

The officer gestured toward the final hall. “Cell three at the end. Proceed when ready.” He tapped a control, sending a notification tone ahead to the cell.

Allan looked at the security guards and gave them an eerily warm smile.

“A pleasure working with you fine gentlemen.”

He gave them all a slow nod as he stepped into the doors to the final hall. The cell doors lined each side of the hall as Allan stepped further into the hall.

He felt a familiar presence.

Someone was trying to watch him.

He stopped in his tracks, a sick smirk cracking his lips.

Hello, Varin. I've come to take you home.

His eyes sharpened for a split second, severing the connection between them.

“Don't be so eager yet, child.”

He continued down the hall before he stopped at cell number three, standing before the door until the lock clicked. The door slid open and Allan's eyes fell to Varin first. A sense of anger and frustration simmered beneath his flesh, but he kept it down.

His gaze then fell to the Chiss woman before him.

“Ah, I see you have already warmed him up for me. The High Republic will be taking it from here, miss?”

His eyes sharpened into slits just briefly as he called upon the force to influence her mind, a suggestion to hand him over peacefully.

Shade​

 

[Shade]

Shade watched the shift in him with clinical intensity, her eyes tracking the way focus returned to Varin as his posture tightened. He was forcing a slow, deliberate rhythm into his breathing that reminded her of the grim discipline she had seen in soldiers trying to steady their nerves in the final heartbeats before a charge.

As he pushed deeper into the Force, perhaps too deep for the limits of his current state, the strain began to manifest physically, first in the white-knuckled tension of his hands and then in the thin, dark line of blood that slipped from his nose. Despite the obvious toll it was taking, Shade did not interrupt his trance; she simply observed, her own attention sharpening as he seemed to strain against whatever invisible distance separated him from the presence he had sensed.

When the words finally came, they were clipped and urgent. Escorts. Closer. Causing her gaze to shift subtly toward the reinforced, sealed door of their cell.

Varin's connection to whatever he had been touching severed with an abrupt, jarring finality, and his eyes snapped open just as the lock on the door disengaged with a sharp, mechanical click that echoed through the small space. Shade was already moving before the door had even fully cleared the frame, her hand slipping to her belt in one smooth, practiced motion that brought a knife into her grip.

The blade caught the cold, sterile light of the cell as she stepped forward, her body angling instinctively to place herself as a shield between Varin and the entrance. Even with the weight of the situation pressing in, her stance settled into something remarkably stable and ready, a predator's stillness that betrayed no hesitation.

As the door hissed open to reveal a silhouette filling the frame, Shade remained perfectly silent, the knife held low and steady in her hand as her crimson eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway with lethal intent.

Varin Mortifer

The man spoke with a heavy, unearned air of inevitability, as though the outcome of this encounter had been decided long before he ever stepped into the room. Shade remained perfectly still, her body positioned like a living shield between him and Varin, her gaze fixed on the stranger with a clinical intensity. She wasn't just listening to his words; she was studying the subtle details that betrayed his true nature. The practiced composure, the easy confidence, and the invisible weight that began to press against the edges of her consciousness.

She felt the intrusion immediately. It was a smooth, calculated slide of the Force across her thoughts, attempting to guide her toward compliance with a velvet touch. It wasn't a violent assault meant to tear through her defenses, but rather a soft suggestion. A gentle push intended to make her yield without realizing she had been compromised. It failed.

The mental pressure shattered against the quiet, iron discipline of her mind, dissipating like smoke against stone without finding a single point of purchase. If anything, the attempt at manipulation only served to clarify the situation, stripping away any pretense of diplomacy. The knife in her hand lifted a fraction of an inch, the blade now angled with lethal intent between them.

"No," she said, the single word carrying no heat of anger, only the cold weight of absolute certainty. "You will not be taking anything from this facility tonight."

Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly as she regarded him; her posture remained calm and controlled, even as she drew a final line in the sand. "If the High Republic had truly been granted custody of this prisoner, Republic Intelligence would have been informed of the transfer long before you ever reached this hallway. And if you were here legitimately," she continued, her voice remarkably even despite the rising stakes, "you would not have felt the need to try and influence my mind the moment you stepped through that door."

The blade in her hand remained steady, a silver promise of what would follow if he moved. "So, we are going to try this again," she said, allowing a heavy silence to settle in the air between them as her demand replaced his suggestion. "Who are you?"

It wasn't a polite inquiry; it was a demand for the truth, backed by the razor-edge of her patience.

Allan Alhune

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace​

Varin slowly sat up from his cot as he glared at the man in the door. His teeth gritted, arms held stiff at an angle as the runes faintly flared.

He was still weakened from the suppression effects, and sensing for the man had drained him further.

He stepped forward, taking up a wide stance with his legs, ready to fight.

He would not say anything as Shade asked her questions, he had to admit, he was curious who he was too. His gaze sharpened as his head pounded. There was a vibration from this man, like the thrum of a massive drum, pulsing in his head. Then the man looked at him, a flash of memories erupted into his mind of the siege on his home, the death of his parents and his sister. The sense of helplessness. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

Varin yelled in pain as his fingers gripped his temples, blood dripped from his nostrils, then he spat more out of his mouth. A wince escaping him through bared teeth stained with blood, his blood.

The man stood in silence for what seemed like a while before he looked to speak.

Shade​

 

[Allan Alhune]

His gaze shot to Varin who then yelled in pain, gripping his head as blood flowed from his nose. Then his gaze fell back to Shade, a small smile appearing on his face again.

“He seems unwell. Does your prison always treat its prisoners so poorly?”

He slowly stepped forward, his eyes looking at the blade in her hand then into her gaze.

“But I did send my credentials, the security team checked it over, gave me the all clear. I signed all of your frivolous paperwork as well.”

She mentioned his failed attempt to persuade her and his eyes changed expression, from social to something more…sinister. It stirred the very room around them.

“Very well.”

His voice was low and deep. Gone was the flourish of a more light hearted voice, replaced by something that sounded like a hole tearing through hell itself. Something that seemed human, yet inhuman at the same time. Something about him that seemed…not right.

“My name is Allan Alhune. I have come to take this boy home.”

His gaze sharpened over her.

“His father has been worried sick over him.”

His hands slowly pulled out of the sleeves of his robes.

"And you will give him to me. How you do it, is up to you."

Shade ​

 

[Shade]

Shade did not turn when Varin's cry fractured the silence of the room. The sound registered with clinical precision: the splash of blood, the ragged strain of his breathing, and the way his stance faltered under the weight of whatever mental pressure was being forced into his mind. She noted these details with the same detached focus she would use to gauge a shift in wind direction on a battlefield, but her attention remained anchored elsewhere.

She did not look away from Allan.

Her gaze remained fixed on him, her crimson eyes steady and unblinking as he stepped further into the room. The shift in his presence did not go unnoticed; the mask of cordial politeness had slipped, replaced by something far darker that carried through the air like the sudden pressure drop before a violent storm. The very walls of the room seemed to tighten around that encroaching shadow, but Shade did not retreat.

The knife in her hand remained poised, its blade angled slightly upward as her body adjusted by mere centimeters to keep herself positioned squarely between the newcomer and the prisoner behind her.

"You did send credentials," she said, her voice remaining impossibly calm and measured despite the escalating tension. "Which means someone in this building made a profound mistake."

Her gaze never wavered as he finally gave his name: Allan Alhune. The name itself meant nothing to her, and his claims regarding Varin's father earned no visible reaction, no flicker of surprise or doubt. Instead, the knife lifted into a ready guard, settling into a functional stance rather than a resting position.

"Varin Mortifer is currently a detainee under the formal custody of Republic Intelligence," she stated, each word landing with a deliberate, cold clarity. "And a few minutes ago, I gave him my word that no one would be allowed to walk into this room and take him."

Her stance shifted then, the movement subtle but unmistakably combative as she found her center. She was balanced, prepared, and entirely focused on the threat before her.

"So, here is exactly what is going to happen," her voice continued, never rising in volume, remaining level and infused with an absolute, quiet certainty. "You are going to stop exactly where you are standing, and you are not going to take another single step toward him."

A brief, heavy pause followed her command, the air thick with the unspoken promise of violence. "Varin Mortifer is under my protection. If you truly want him, Allan Alhune, then you will have to come through me."

The knife remained perfectly steady in her hand. For the first time since Allan had entered the room, Shade settled fully into a fighter's crouch, making it clear that if he intended to reach Varin, the cost would be paid in blood.

Allan Alhune

 

[Allan Alhune]

The words that she had spoken to him fell on deaf ears, electing to ignore the words coming from her mouth. All of them except until she said

She gave him her word

His pupils shrank into slits as the violet coloring of his iris’ flared.

“It’s a shame you will be breaking that word, just as I will be breaking your spine.”

Without so much as a breath, his form shimmered into a blur as his figure pushed both hands towards her, launching a highly aggressive force blast towards her gut. The power of the attack great enough to lift her from her feet, hurling her towards the back wall of the cell, landing with a hard thud before collapsing to the floor, her blade clattering to the floor.

He spoke to her, uncaring if she heard him or not.

“Your word, means nothing to me.”

He stepped towards Varin then his gaze tore towards the doorway of the cell where security was approaching. His vision sharpened, revealing fault lines within their bodies. A dark smile appeared on his lips as his hand flexed, shattering the faults within and around their hearts.

They did not feel a thing as their hearts burst from within their chests, all of them dropping lifelessly to the floor.

His gaze fell on Varin as his hands fell from his temples, the dull pain still radiating from his skull.

“Varin…”

Shade​

 

[Shade]

The moment Allan moved, Shade reacted with the instinctive precision of a predator, yet even with her senses heightened and expecting an outburst of violence, the sheer, raw force of the invisible blast was overwhelming. The impact struck her square in the abdomen like a durasteel hammer, tearing the air from her lungs in a sharp, strangled gasp as her feet left the floor and the world lurched violently sideways, hurling her across the span of the containment cell.

She struck the far wall with a bone-jarring crack that seemed to resonate through her entire skeleton, causing her vision to white out for a terrifying, singular moment of sensory deprivation. As she dropped hard to the floor beneath the impact site, another shock of pain radiated through her frame, and the knife she had been holding skittered across the polished surface of the cell, clattering uselessly into the shadows well out of her immediate reach.

Allan's voice reached her through the high-pitched ringing in her ears, cold and final as he declared that her word meant nothing to him. Shade forced air back into her lungs through clenched teeth, pushing herself up onto one knee even as her vision swam, relying on the rigorous training drilled into her bones to force her body into motion before the agony could lock her muscles in place.

In the corridor behind Allan, the air filled with the rapid, rhythmic approach of security forces, but the reinforcements were silenced before they could even cross the threshold. Shade watched with grim clarity as their bodies collapsed in the doorway, a sudden, silent termination of life that involved no blaster fire and no struggle, just the terrifying efficiency of a man who could snuff out a soul with a thought.

Her jaw tightened as she recognized the true scale of his power. If he were allowed to step back into that corridor, the body count would continue to rise before anyone could even comprehend the nature of the threat.

As Allan turned his lethal attention back toward Varin, Shade reached out through the Force.

The heavy cell door slammed shut behind him with a violent hydraulic bang, sealing the containment chamber and cutting him off from the corridor and the rest of the facility.

For a fraction of a second, a heavy silence descended upon the room, broken only by the low artificial hum of the suppression systems.

Shade was already moving.

Her hand slipped to the opposite side of her belt where another blade flashed into her grip, its edge catching the harsh lighting of the containment cell as she prepared to strike. She did not bother to stand, nor did she waste a breath on a warning. The knife left her hand in a clean, vicious arc aimed straight for Allan's chest.

The blade crossed the room in a lethal blur. For a heartbeat, it seemed certain to strike. Then Allan moved like a wraith. His body slipped aside with an eerie, unnatural fluidity, the blade passing where he had stood only an instant before. The knife slammed into the durasteel panel behind him, burying itself deep with a sharp metallic crack that echoed through the chamber.

Remaining on one knee where the blast had thrown her, Shade breathed hard through the pain, her crimson eyes locked onto him with unwavering focus.

The fight had finally begun.

Allan Alhune

 

[Allan Alhune]

The blade whistled towards him, barreling straight for his chest. His senses heightened to a degree that made the blade seem as though it were moving in slow motion. He simply side stepped it, allowing it to bury itself into the wall behind him. His eyes flicked to the blade then back to her, noticing that she was getting back up.

“Not enough.”

The blade lurched from the wall, flinging towards him. His hand outstretched and with ease, his fingers gripped the handle. His gaze looked up and down the blade.

“A fine weapon. A suitable one for what is to come for you.”

His body blurred once more as he quickly advanced upon her, swiping with brutal efficiency with the blade, each strike calculated with a stroke of dexterity that most could only dream to obtain. Speed met with strength in a single harmony within his advance as he aimed to overwhelm her with his unnatural capabilities.

The thrill of the hunt and the kill was thick in the air, the sense of satisfaction was just within the reach of his fingertips. His gaze sharpened once more as he tapped into a power he grew fond of when it came to sniffing out weaknesses. His gaze mapped out her fault lines within her body, mapped out her movement patterns, as they fought it would seem like he could predict her movements. But he struggled to read her thoughts. The mental fortress she had up and its walls were thick. Thick enough that he was not getting inside unless she had them down prior.

It was impressive. Only a few people have been able to lock him out.

They fought and danced around Varin as he clutched his head, the pain pulsing through his head once again as he was forced to relive that horrible night.

Shade​

 

[Shade]

Shade met the charge head-on, though she did not attempt to match the overwhelming force of the initial impact.

The first strike came with a blurring velocity that surpassed the limits of most seasoned fighters, appearing as little more than a flash of lethal precision cutting through the air in a stroke designed to end the encounter before a proper defense could even form. Recognizing the futility of matching strength against such a blow, Shade gave ground instead of bracing for the hit.

Her body shifted fluidly just outside the arc of that first whistling slash, her feet sliding across the polished floor with a practiced grace that allowed her to redirect the momentum of his attack rather than resisting its weight outright. When the second strike followed immediately after, brutal, efficient, and relentless, Shade turned her shoulder into the danger, letting the blade pass close enough for the displaced air to tug at the fabric of her shirt before she pivoted sharply away.

His speed was undeniably unnatural, a frantic cadence that defied standard rhythm, and so she stopped trying to meet him on his own terms. Shade changed her entire approach in a heartbeat, abandoning the tight, defensive posture she had initially adopted in favor of something far more fluid and adaptive. The rigid lines of her movements faded as she cut sharp angles into his advance, constantly repositioning herself to force him to adjust rather than allowing him to dictate the pace of the exchange.

As the next pass came, she didn't retreat; instead, she slipped inside his guard with a predatory smoothness. Her foot hooked low and sharp in a sweeping motion aimed directly for the back of his ankle to strip him of his footing, while simultaneously her body twisted through the turn to send her remaining blade flashing upward in a quick, vicious slash across the side of his ribs. Even if the steel failed to find its mark, the sheer momentum of the movement was designed to carry her through the rotation regardless, leading directly into her next opening.

Her elbow came next, driving up and across in a tight, punishing arc aimed straight for the side of his head with the full, explosive rotation of her hips coiled behind the blow. It was a sequence of three distinct movements, the sweep, the cut, and the strike, performed with no discernible pause between them and absolutely no wasted motion.

Shade made no further attempt to overpower him through brute strength, choosing instead to constantly alter the geometric shape of the fight. She adapted with every micro exchange, forcing Allan to react to her shifting presence rather than the other way around, all while her crimson eyes remained locked onto him with unwavering focus. Even as they moved around Varin in a deadly, rhythmic orbit, she kept herself meticulously positioned as a living shield between Allan and the man behind her, her breathing remaining perfectly steady and her movements retaining a terrifying, clinical precision as the fight continued to evolve.

Allan Alhune