Musings on Chaos

[Grace Darkson]

The holocron sat quiet in the middle of the room, resting on a small end table. Reduced from a castle to this nearly barren apartment. She was broke, plain and simple. Her job as a Knight paid well enough to keep her alive, but she didn't have the ability to do anything else. Maybe she should look into getting a teacher's license. There had to be some way to earn a little more, or have someone to fund expeditions. She wanted to go tomb diving again, feel the rush of dodging traps, experience the power of the old tombs, draw up enigmatic secrets buried for millennia. She needed the rush again. Maybe she could find something.

The holocron was silent on its perch, unknowing of its new home. The Vahla began to pace, trying to recall the history of the Sith Lord within. His name eluded her, and she would not open it until she could remember that. The sanguine pyramid seemed to stare back at her, as if waiting for her to move. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she sank into a chair, seeming suddenly tired. She could feel sleep creeping on the edge of her mind, gnawing at her conscious. How long had she been awake? Twenty hours. She used to be able to do this for days. Talsa used to make her sit down and study when she'd pace endlessly around their dorm. It was easy for the other woman. She could remember everything their teachers said. But she had to work for it.

You were still the better student.

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, as if behind her. "You're still haunting me."

You brought that upon yourself. The ghost answered, seeming to shimmer into existence before her. Talsa was as she remembered her friend, down to the bloodstained hole in her chest. After all, you killed me before I could help you.

"I don't need your 'help.'" Grace snapped, standing. A new fury burned away any thoughts of sleep from her mind, and she glared at the spirit. "I am stronger than you ever were!" Almost as she finished the words, another voice pierced her mind.

J'us tuti skysosûtas. The old Sith Spirit hovered before her, the rough bone growths of the Old Sith jutting from his face. J'us tuti tsikizisi

"Ah, you're still here." A twisted smile crossed her face. "Hmm. I wonder..." Her smile faded, and her voice began to chant, quietly at first, rising slowly until the neighbors were bound to hear.But they knew the risks of living by a Geonosian Knight.

The first spirit seemed to dissipate, Talsa understanding what her friend was doing. But Talsa had not been her target. She held her hands before her, As if grasping a rope. She held on as the spirit struggled. "You call me weak? You who could not protect your own temple? Then tell me..." Her voice trailed off, as she mouthed another incantation. "How can I do this?"

With that she tugged hard on the coil that held the spirit to this realm. "You were always a brute. Now, I will use that power..." She gasped from exhaustion, and in that moment, her concentration slipped. The spirit faded, seeming to vanish in an instant.

Suddenly exhaustion took her, and she collapsed backwards, asleep before she hit the chair.

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It was almost a day later when she awoke. Tired eyes blinked. She needed to get out. Even if she didn't have the money for something, she needed a trip somewhere. But who could justify that? Maybe... No. She couldn't deal with that. But it made the most sense. Cairyn had the most money, and he could spend it on ridiculous expeditions to get more pets. All she had to do was direct him to a place with both pets for him to bring home and a tomb for her to explore. Preferably somewhere where those things combined.

Sighing, she stood. She'd have to talk him into it. And she feared that would be the worst part.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

The sweltering heat and lack of shade did not deter from the crowd as they piled into the Colosseum seats. The overpriced beverages, chilled and served at the entrances provided enough comfort for those who had the coin to not be entirely miserable. Others who weren't so lucky simply endured the heat as they would any other day. Some endured with aid of fans and other tools. Others, well, sweat was a sign of hydration, no?

Separated from the common folk in his own private box lounged the young master of the arena. From afar, he was adorned in the finest regalia befitting his position, head to toe in black of the finest fabrics. What the good people below didn't see was the sheer amount of coolant that went into the costume, nor had they any idea of the temperature of the chambers the youth had come from. Indeed, everything had been prepared for his leisure, all the while giving him room to dress a part far above his own. At his feet, Griz partook in a midday snooze, a miracle considering the noise such arenas tend to make.

Currently lacking in glasses as they would merely destroy his image, what one could mistake for a simple cool gaze over his domain was really more of an aimless one at that. No matter, he'd have opportunity later to view the holorecordings of the fights that'd transpire this day. One way or another, he'd get his dose of bloodshed and look intimidating while doing so.

When the hour came and the sun rose high in the sky, Cairyn abandoned his comfortable chair to address the crowd. There wasn't much to be said, with hands adorned with cheap jewels simply gesturing to either side of the arena as both beast and prisoner entered the field. As the prisoners were forced into their entrance, he droned on about their crimes to the Confederacy, sometimes adding a few just to spice things up. When the time came for the beast of the day to take the stage, he had to restrain himself from going on and on about the particular creature and all there was to know about the lovely.

He'd been told to expect a guest this day, and had even gone through the effort of having another chair placed in his box. But was his guest here? No, not yet, and it was incredibly rude of them.

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

The games were already in full swing when Grace arrived. She could hear the roar of the crowd as she stepped through brightly lit hallways towards the VIP booth. This had taken far more effort than she had expected to arrange. An audience with the gamemaster was difficult to gain, it would seem. Especially during one of his own games. She'd probably regret this, all things considered, but it was worth a try. Halting outside the door to his personal suite and balcony, she smiled. She could hear some sort of electronic system humming. Probably cooling the brat at his preformance.

"Lady Psyona!" It was a aide, some servant droid who was no doubt in charge of the workings of Cairyn's blood sports. "You're late for the Games! Master Cairyn will be furious!" Shaking her head, she looked back to the door. Pressing her hand against it, she was amazed just how cool it was.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." She gave the droid a smile. "I've an offer he can't refuse."

She stepped into the box, her presence far enough back to be hidden from the roaring crowds below. She walked, slowly forward, maintaining enough distance to stay out of sight. "Gamemaster."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Caught up in the heat of the battle, Cairyn leaned over enthusiastically against the railing, temporarily forgetting his facade. He couldn't help it, watching his creatures fight was just too adorable not to watch. The prisoners, well, they did their best, Cairyn was sure. However, they just didn't hold a candle to the beauties that were his beasts. Nor would they in a million years. Still, he did enjoy watching them try.

At the word that his guest had finally arrived, he groaned. First, they dare to be late, now they show up in the heat of the battle? Oh, sure, just ruin all of his fun. He waved the messenger away, begrudgingly giving the okay to send the person in as he pointedly looked back to the arena. Wait. A grin curled its way onto his features, a nasty idea coming to mind. If they wanted to be late, sure. He'd make his fun out of it.

"You know, you've got some nerve, showing up here late," he called, keeping his back turned away from his guest. Always enjoying a flair of the dramatic, he didn't even think to consider that his voice might not travel. Turning, just about to say something just as cool (at least to him), finally laying eyes on his guest brought his mouth to a standstill. Regaining his composure, he glared at Grace, making a point of straightening his posture, trying to make himself appear tall. "What are you doing here, Bracie?"

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

"What am I doing here? Are you suggesting an executor can't go where she pleases?" She smiled, thoroughly enjoying the complete break in composure that the boy had suffered upon seeing her. Although, she was impressed that he could see her without his glasses. Last she knew, he was blind without them. "After all, you're not the only one with power."

She smiled, a calm look that seemed to fade almost as quickly as it came in the desert heat. "Listen, I..." The words were sticking in her throat. Why was this so hard? It was just what he wanted to hear. Why did she have trouble saying it? Had she become that bad of a liar. "I haven't been fair to you. At first, i was trying to push you to be better, but..." Again, she choked. Words that seemed so easy refused to come out. Regrets? Was that it?

"I went too far. And I left you behind." The pain in her voice would have been hard to fake, even for her. Why was it so real? "I came to offer something."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

His glare at that blur that was roughly Grace's height darkened a moment before he made a point of turning away. What was she doing here, always raining on his fun, ruining everything important to him. Didn't she have some old books to read? Some dumb ritual to learn? Something else Cairyn didn't care about? Grumbling to himself, he fumbled around for his glasses, stopping only when a service droid handed the pair to him. He snatched them up, shoving them onto the bridge of his nose. Did he just see Chase smile? She was probably laughing at him, as if she had any room to talk. Where was her arena, her pets to entertain the masses. Oh, wait, this was his domain.

He heard what she was saying. Really, he did. She was obviously trying to take advantage of his kind and gentle soul. Well, she'd get no such generosity here. He smiled, though it was something more akin to a sneer. He moved towards his chair, speaking with a tone that was way too sweet for his own good. "It's okay," that sickly sweet voice drawled. As he spoke, he pushed a button on his seat. Immediately following, a trap door under Chase's feet opened, sending her tumbling into the arenas below. "You'll make up for it one way or another."

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

Well, that was unexpected.

To be fair, she hadn't expected it to be easy. But a trapdoor leading into the arena? Why hadn't she spotted it when she walked in? She was getting sloppy. Out of practice. It would be awhile before she was ready to explore much anything new. She needed to get back into the action, instead of spending her days reading and studying. Maybe she'd have seen the trap if she'd been better.

It made a sort of warped sense for him to have this trap, she thought as she landed. hard in the arena. Her saber rolled away, but as she called it to his hand, the whole earth seemed to shake. Massive footfalls seemed to reverberate across the ground as the beast emerged. The claws were as long as she was. Rage poured through her. A rancor? Really? That was the best he had?

Xalone flew to her hand. Her hand extended, her will wrapping around the creature's mind. It stopped before her, roaring to the crowd's enjoyment.

Cairyn wanted a show? She'd give him one.

But she was in charge of the actors.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Now this was getting good. Not even bothering to take off his glasses, he dashed towards the edge of his box. Wrenching the microphone from its hiding place, he paid no mind to the horrendous feedback it provided, nor did he seem to notice the groans and complaints of the audience members. After all, this was just as much for his entertainment (actually probably more so) than theirs, after all.

"Ladies and gentlemen we interrupt your regularly scheduled carnage for this lovely extra battle," he announced, the glee in his voice nearly palpable. He gestured toward Grace with a dismissive flick of the wrist. "This one over here's a Sith Lord who's gotten a bit too big for their britches but," with a wide sweep, he gestured toward his rancor. Second favorite, of course. "This one is Jefferi. Jefferi is a rancor native to Dathomir, hatched right here on Geonosis. Her hobbies include midday naps, playing with her older brother, Jiminy, and of course, ripping people to shreds! Jefferi, have at it!"

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

If there was one thing that Grace understood how to do, it was control someone else. From idiots at the bar to even the occasional thug, she knew how to make someone's thoughts hers. It was what she did. It was her main skill. But this? Controlling a Rancor?

That would be easy.

She could barely hear what Cairyn was saying. Everything was dulled, muted. Time itself seemed to slow down as she watched her dance partner. Swing. The command seemed to bring joy to the creature, and its massive claw swung at her, a sweeping blow meant to send her into the wall, probably breaking multiple bones and likely killing her. That was, of course, if it could connect.

One advantage of having such a flimsy skeleton was that it was so much more flexible. As she lept backwards, letting the beast's claw fly past under her, it seemed almost too easy to just keep jumping and twisting out of the way. She could easily keep this going for a while. But she'd tire. And there was still Cairyn to deal with.

She launched the dagger in her hand, the blade moving with such speed she doubted that the crowd or even Cairyn could see it. Almost as if on cue, the creature turned to stare at her, leaving Xalone plenty of room to do its job. From where she stood, the blade seemed to disappear into the thing's eye.

As the blade hit, she released the thing from her control, landing hard on the hot sands. As she stood, the thing began to claw at its face, trying to dislodge the blade from its eye. Soon enough, it would pass out from blood loss. She only had to wait.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Cairyn watched with keen excitement as the fight began. He was all too excited to watch Chase spill some blood, something he'd done way too much of in his humble opinion. It was time Chase got a taste of her own medicine, to feel the humiliation of Cairyn being on top. So, with a manic grin, he waited.

And waited.

But the bloodshed never came.

It was with growing frustration that he continued watching. Jefferi, who was normally a prized killer in the arenas, moved like a lumbering oaf. This was so unlike her, was she sick? While part of him was enraged at the lack of results, more specifically, the lack of Chase blood in the sand, the other part of him grew more and more concerned for the Rancor's well being. This was the arenas, of course, death was a natural part of these bouts, but she simply didn't move like herself.

With an angered growl, he shoved himself away from the ledge when Jefferi hit the ground. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. Stepping just barely out of sight of the crowd, he ripped away his finer robes, the coolant coming with it, throwing on something that still looked refine but maintained a sense of mobility. He'd need that. Still annoyed with the situation, he barked at a service droid to send servants to check Jefferi's injuries.

He himself didn't bother with taking the stares, nor did he bother with the trap door. After all, this was his domain, it was only apt for him to entertain his guests at all times. No, once pleased with his appearance, weapons secured on his belt, he took a running start, bounding over a confused and sleepy Griz and jumping from the suite to the arena below. A somersault was the extent of his showiness mid-jump, him landing on the ground in a low crouch, practiced knees absorbing the impact.

One glance at Jefferi had him turning to Chase and all but hissing his question. "What did you do?"

[member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Grace watched in mild surprise as Cairyn made his way down to the arena floor in spectacular fashion. She hadn't expected that. Sure, the boy prized his animals, but still. That was excessive. She brushed the sand off her clothes, before walking past him and heading towards the dead rancor, seeming to study the dead thing's face for a moment before reaching her fist into the thing's eye socket. For a few moments, it seemed like her gruesome work was fruitless, but after what seemed like an eternity, she felt the cold stone and metal of the blade's handle. A small smirk flashed on her face as she yanked the blade out. "Hmm." The murmur came from her as Cairyn's question shot out, and she seemed to ignore him. The blade had dulled. Wiping the gore on the sleeve of her shirt, she turned to Cairyn. "I won."

Sliding the small blade back into its scabbard, she took a slow step forward. "Now, Cairyn, do you have any more animals to make me kill, or are you willing to talk now?" There was no mirth to her voice. No joy in her words. The only thing he could possibly take offence to was her threat to kill whatever he sent next, the point accented by the stygian blood dripping from her body and staining her shirt. She'd have to get a new set. After all, rancor blood was impossible to wash out of a good shirt.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Taking one look at Jefferi told Cairyn all he needed to know. The poor girl had done her best, had a lovely body count to add to her name. Unfortunately, that hadn't saved her from Chase's diabolical power. Despite his apparent sorrow at his beast's demise, his expression didn't change beyond the glare he cast at Chase. Slightly stunned when Chase walked passed him, he was almost hurt by her lack of response to his entrance. He tried so hard to put on a show and he gets ignored? Life just wasn't fair. He gave an annoyed huff, she was right, technically. He didn't like it, not at all, but he couldn't exactly fault her for taking part in the tournament.

He was tempted, oh so very tempted, to send another beast into the arena. Perhaps Puff would like the exercise? Or maybe an Acklay? He had no doubt that Griz would also enjoy the midday snack, but he didn't want to risk any more of his pets being lost to such an unworthy foe. No, what he really wanted to do was run Chase through with his own blade. However, he still remembered all to well the last time he tried to fight her. Such an embarrassment simply wasn't something he wanted an arena of people to witness. With a grumble, venom dripping in his voice he said, "And what could you possibly want to talk about?"

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

"Simple. I had a proposition for you." Her voice was low as she stepped towards him, careful to keep an eye on his ability to attack her before she could do something. "I was going to offer you something for this arena that would strike fear into the hearts of everything from mere slaves to powerful Sith Lords. A creature powerful enough that the Jedi Order marshalled all it had to try and drive them to extinction." A look that may have masked fear crossed her face. "A terentatek"

Her eyes narrowed, amber orbs staring into the green of Cairyn's own. "But now, after being literally thrown to the beasts, I think I'll just go home and take a shower. Maybe even go after the thing myself." She turned towards the exit. "Ah, well. It was good to catch up, Cairyn." With that she began to walk away.

If she was right, he'd try and stop her. Try and get the information out of her.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

He was ready. No, he was more than ready to make a lunge at her, especially as Grace drew closer to him. How dare she approach after she killed one of his lovely beasts? He very nearly dismissed her entirely, wave off her proposition as her simply trying to get on his good side - no simple feat at that, given his current opinion of her. But even Cairyn found himself caught up in the description of the creature. It sounded too good to be true. And having such a beast that struck that sort of fear into the hearts of even Jedi was just what Cairyn was always in the market for. After all, he was all about image these days, as shown by his current regalia.

"Wait!" He stopped himself, didn't want to look desperate in front of the traitor. "This terentathing, what's so grand about it?" He spoke up, hoping to catch her ear before she'd completely left earshot. "And how does one go about getting it?"

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

With her back turned to the boy, Grace smiled. He had taken the bait, hook, line and sinker. That was good. Now, she just had to keep him on the line. After all, you didn't catch a fish by letting it get away. "Well..." She turned, looking at him. "A terentatek is Force resistant, and feeds off of the Dark Side and the blood of Force users." She looked back into those hollow eyes of his, the excitement she normally had for this sort of thing building in her voice, slowly, carefully. "They were one of the first Sithspawn, although they managed to continue as a species beyond their creator's intentions. Their skin can shrug off blasters and even lightsabers, and the Force can barely touch them." She smiled, a look that Cairyn knew well. She enjoyed explaining things.

"The Jedi learned to fear them, as no weapons they had could harm the beasts. Eventually, they used force bonded teams of Jedi Knights to kill them, but even that proved dodgy at best. No matter what they tried, the terentatek would return to the galaxy when the Dark Side is strong." there was a pause, and she tilted her head. "And with the Jedi crumbling before the First Order and the Galactic Empire, and the rise of the pretender Dark Lord in the galactic north, I'd say the Dark Side is growing stronger by the minute." With that, she turned again.

"As to how you get one, you find a planet they tend to live on, and you find a way to tame the creature. Without the Force. I'll leave it up to you to figure that out. You're the one with experience in that, after all." She looked quickly to the rancor corpse. "Plus, there's the small matter of transporting them here. It won't be easy, espically considering their size." He should have the means, considering he managed to get rancors here. "Unless you managed to find a nest of sorts, I suppose. But that's unlikely."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

His glare, almost begrudgingly, slowly subsided as he listened to Grace's impromptu lesson. Rather, he half listened. As she went on, his mind started to wander as it so often did. Only this time it wasn't wandering to a future meal or naps to be had. Instead, his mind wandered to just what he could do with a brute fitting of the terentatek's description. So much destruction, so much chaos, a symphony of tribulation just waiting to be composed. And he, being the charming fellow he was, would most certainly be the principle violinist.

By the time she got to the modern history, he was flat-out not paying attention. Instead, that wicked little mind raced within the confides of his brain, trying to figure out how best to accommodate such a monster. What best to feed them? When? Would they prefer their meals armed and fighting or shackled and abandoned to solitude? And, perhaps most importantly, what could possibly be a name fitting of such a creature's majesty?

He had to have his hands on at least one. There was no question about that. The question, instead, was of how he'd accomplish that. Grace wasn't much help in that regard. Or perhaps she was intentionally withholding information? He couldn't blame her, he'd suppose, but that didn't stop the twinge of annoyance. Oh well, guess he could play nice, at least until he got what he wanted. Face still stone cold and mostly devoid of expression, he started to walk, intentionally brushing passed Grace, a gesture of the head indicating she should follow. It was time they took this conversation somewhere with less of a threat of prying ears.

"What kinda fight is this?!" An audience member, somewhat less than impressed with the transpirings, exclaimed, standing from his seat. Perhaps he'd had too many drinks to maintain a good judgement, perhaps he didn't understand the ongoings of the arena. Perhaps most likely, he was a blithering idiot. Regardless of who he was, Cairyn didn't even spare him a sideways glance, grabbing at the man via the force, roughly dragging him to the arena where a new beast, an Acklay had just emerged. The man wanted a fight, did he not? It was time he provided.

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

It was amazing how easily that had worked. It seemed Cairyn had a soft spot for animals. Not surprising, considering how much he doted on Griz. The nexu was spoiled beyond belief if you asked the Sith. Then again, Cairyn seemed to see his creatures as something more than the mindless things they were. Her steps were methodical, practiced as she followed the boy. His response to the heckler brought a twisted grin to her face. It was too perfect, and something she would have done in his place.

And it also showed her how much he was growing in power.

"You're getting stronger." She commented as they walked through the doors, out of the way of prying eyes and most all ears. "You're not the weakling I first met at all." Shaking her head, she looked at him. Studied him. "We're going to Dromund Kaas. Get whatever you need ready and meet me at the spaceport in two days time."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Grace's comment on his apparent strength was met with a nonchalant shrug and maybe a sideways glance. Of course he was no weakling. He never was one to begin with, but especially now. This was his domain, after all. He had every right, every power, to do as he pleased in this arena, to whoever he so chose. Chase, unfortunately, was just too powerful in all the wrong areas to properly recognize his power as everyone else should. That couldn't be helped, he supposed. He'd just have to make her pay in his own little way.

"And how am I to trust you're not just going to leave me there for dead?" He inquired with a slow drawl, voice turning dangerously soft. Chances are, her answer wouldn't effect his going, just whether or not he'd show at the appointed time. "What's stopping you from trying to betray me again?" The moment she gave any indication of doing so, he'd shut it down as best he could

[member="Lady Psyona"]​

 

[Grace Darkson]

Grace had begun walking towards the door when Cairyn's question hit her ears. She froze, her head tilting to the side, ear floating inches off of her shoulder. "You just threw me into an arena and made me fight a rancor." Her voice was low, soft. The kind of soft you expected from a disappointed parent. Turning, slowly, she stared at the youth. Cold yellow eyes studied the boy. "And then you walked into a quiet room away from prying eyes, with the person you just tried to murder."

There was a pause, one she drew out for the briefest of moments before continuing. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already." He voice was even, the calm nature opposed to the words she spoke. "I should be more worried about you betraying me."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

"And you killed my pets." His voice never rose in volume, stating his facts as if his pets were worth about as much as Grace's life. And as far as he was concerned, they were. This wasn't Jefferi he was upset about. No, Jefferi was a loss but one that was bound to happen eventually. One that he wasn't all that upset over. There was a reason he'd sent her instead of Jiminy to take on the Sith. He was, however, still furious about his loss of Beznik, Dalin, and the other Orbalisks, and would continue to be until Grace paid.

"Killing me means the arenas stop running. People would know I'm gone. You, on the other hand.." He paused, giving Grace a quick once over. "Who would say anything if you were to, I dunno, disappear again?" She'd left him once to fend for himself. She'd so rudely abandoned him when the Dominion was falling apart. As far as he was concerned, she was partially to blame for the pain he'd endured leading up to their reunion. Not to mention, he thoroughly enjoyed bringing up his position of power. "I want a Terentatek, so I'm getting one. Whether or not you're there when I do means nothing to me, so long as you don't get in my way."

[member="Lady Psyona"]