Reviver No More..

[Jacen Cavill]

Malachor V​

Surface​

Outside The Sion​

​

THUMP!

The man continued with his work as he carried another over to the loading ramp for his crew to grab.

THUMP!

This pattern continued on for over five minutes as that familiar THUMP sound echoed off the durasteel loading dock. Screams could be heard inside the ship, that same deep roar from the man his attendants were working on. Blast bolts echoed off the durasteel armor he wore as the mythical, alechmized weapon worked it's wonders on him. He paid the man's cries for help little mind as they continued to shield certain parts of his memory, what became of everything else didn't matter. So long as he retains his abilities, and his skill in combat, along with the enhancements everything will be fine. It was a twisted plan, to break something so pristine, so pure, and then to re-purpose it. Yet, here he was doing just that, though he was busy loading more and more onto his ship. The THUMPing sound continued on for a few more minutes.

With each THUMP, another dead Jedi was loaded up onto the vessel. So far the total was twenty, and the man was sweating from the effort. Scratches lined his cheeks from the blows he had taken, and his heart was still racing. Sith poison was slowly being filtered out of his blood as he calmed down, and his senses were finally being restored to normal. His enhanced strength allowed him to throw the bodies like they were ragdolls, much like he had during their battle. The small team had stood no chance, but they weren't meant to be captured like his prized subject was. No, these Jedi were merely being captured for experiments on their dead bodies. Once the rest of them had been loaded, he waved his team off as he felt a rippling in the Force. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he sensed another presence suddenly that hadn't been there earlier.

"Who in the feth?"

Feeling a weakened signature, he ran to the disturbance. Darkness carried his feet far faster than any man should move, and in moments he was upon a beautiful woman. Her features looked familiar, but so much had changed he couldn't be sure anymore. Kneeling down to her, he put a hand at her throat while leaning down to check for a pulse. "Can I get a medic?" His voice carried far further than it should, and the ground beneath him trembled from the anger that was in his tone.

[member="Amorella Mae"]

 

[Ereza]

It was said during her with spent with the Aing-Tii that the wonders and mysteries of the universe were as simple as a seed. That, once one understood the infantile stages of a power, the rest came naturally. That, given the opportunity to grow, a single seed could sprout a forest - if one one could see it for the trees.

She'd been given a seed. A very simple, humble idea - that one was the center of the galaxy, and that life was an ever expanding sea throughout it, the waters were a current that passed one by. Sometimes gently molding the form, buffing it into brilliance, and other times carrying the detritus of trouble to leave scars where they once hurt. It was not for one to wade through, nor to fight against, but merely to take in, to allow, to understand, to sense and to feel the subtle and swift changes of the tides, to know when to hunker against, and to learn when to float.

It was a lesson not easily learned in the language of the strange monks, nor something to merely...consider. It was a lesson to live with and grow within.

Amore was trying very hard to grow from it - but the currents had flooded her only with troubles and darkness. The maelstrom was unrelenting, and in her times of fear she lost where the waters had settled and where they had rushed. In one fateful night she had grown to learn a new truth: that all the violence in the universe was connected, just like this sea, and its waters often invaded and fought with those of the bubbling pools of life she had only waded through herself. She watched its waves rise like a devilish beast and surge across the vast expanse of gentle waves. She saw all the darkness of the world. She lived through it, too.

When she appeared on Malachor it was a sudden rush of disturbed, roiling energies that grew in a triumphant spell before crashing to the lands and dissipating into the winds. Spent, her body ravaged by the currents of the galaxy, Amore fell into a dwindling lull.

For a time there was nothing, only stillness.

Then there was a shadow. A presence. Something familiar, like the feel of strong arms and the heat of a flame.

Pale, vapid blue eyes slitted open, holding within them the last vestiges of her strength, as if she knew this was her only fleeting chance to make it all stop. To find an anchor and rest a while against the tumult.

Ask for help, said her mind, but her lips did not obey when they understood the focus of the face looming above.

"...Jacen?"

A painful exhale of breath followed.

"I thought you were dead."

A mangled hand reached to clasp the one pressed at her neck, feebly attempting to squeeze it, to communicate the relief she felt within all the hurt, but what it managed could hardly express all the time spent worrying about the man after his disappearance.

"Is it really you?"

[member="Jacen Cavill"]