A Vessel for Violence

Study Session
Tag:
Delsin Shaw
Deployment Location:
- Primary Target Zone: [Ession]
Equipment Loadout:
- Primary Weapon(s): SD-L1 Long Blaster
- Secondary Weapon(s): HG-88 Big Iron, VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade,
- Specialized Gear: Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield,
- Armor & Attire: Personal Armor
Sable Varro leaned against the cold durasteel wall of the old cloning facility, her visor lowered and arms crossed over her chest, a faint flick of ambient light dancing across her armor from the sterile glowpanels above. The hum of recycled air and the occasional flicker of old, half-renovated systems filled the silence around her—eerily soft echoes in a place once meant to give birth to monsters.The facility had a pulse of its own—subtle, slow, but ever present. A mechanical rhythm of old Sith Empire design layered beneath the updated wiring and biosphere regulators. It was like standing in the skeletal remains of something still breathing—still watching.
She didn't like it.
Her HUD pinged softly in the background, mapping out corridors, life support zones, isolated wing schematics—but she wasn't looking at any of it. Instead, she stood in one of the upper access corridors near the Living Quarters, just far enough from Delsin's latest experiment chamber to escape the stench of reagents, old alchemical residue, and half-dissected monstrosities.
Boredom gnawed at her like a dull blade.
She had come here expecting something—answers maybe, a mission, a confrontation, hell, even a half-sane Sith to gut. But instead, she found a walking legacy of dead empires, buried ambitions, and the son of a once-terrifying alchemist trying to relight the fires of forgotten horror.
The place was thick with history, the kind you could feel pressing against your lungs—faint whispers in the walls, echoes of chants that once summoned things best left unnamed. Sithspawn containment chambers lined the lower halls—long since drained, but still sealed behind blast doors inscribed with archaic runes. She had passed one earlier, its viewport fogged, something still twitching behind the reinforced transparisteel.
"Cozy little tomb," She muttered, voice flat through her helmet's vox.
Sable made her way toward the observation catwalk overlooking the main laboratory—the crown jewel of the facility. Below her, Delsin worked in silence, swathed in flickering lamplight and the green haze of chemical vapors. His figure moved with quiet obsession, darting between datapads, ritual markings, and vats of failed resurrection. His father's body—what was left of it—rested on a repurposed biotable, skin patchworked by scars, ritual brands, and remnants of Yuuzhan Vong grafts.
She watched Delsin work for a moment. He was careful. Efficient. Driven.
But something about him lacked the madness his father was infamous for. Darren Shaw had redefined monstrosity. Delsin? He was just chasing shadows.
Sable leaned on the railing and let her eyes drift across the far end of the chamber—toward a half-collapsed archive section filled with broken holocrons, flickering data caches, and remnants of Sith alchemical tomes. That's where the true rot was. Not in Delsin's attempts to resurrect a legacy, but in what remained buried in the code and scrollwork of dead men's ambitions.
The waiting room was…quant. Assuming this was a waiting room after all, the greeting droid had been very unclear about the whole thing.
There was always this stillness before the galaxy remembered it had teeth.
A flicker ran through her HUD—an anomalous power signature, faint and pulsing, somewhere deeper in the lower vaults. Probably nothing. Maybe just an old bioreactor sputtering out. Or maybe something older finally deciding to stir.
Sable pushed off the railing, holstering the flask and heading toward the stairwell that led downward into the sublevels. She didn't need Delsin's permission to poke around—if he didn't like it, he could try stopping her.
Something always broke the stillness eventually.
And if it didn't?
She'd drag it screaming out of the shadows herself.
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