Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Tell Me Why

Maridun
It was here in the plains of Maridun that Keira had first been brought into something larger than herself, and pledged her life not just to a cause but to a brotherhood unlike any other. It was here that she had taken the first steps to becoming a Mandalorian, something that at that time she hadn't realized would overtake her life so completely, until her first thought when making any decision was what impact it would have on the people and their continued existence in the galaxy. Most importantly, it was here that she had been welcomed into House Verd and thusly a family that was more tightly knit than anything she had ever before experienced. Because unlike the kin she claimed by blood, they were there for each other through everything, and there was never a time where she couldn't confide in her brothers.

But then, inexplicably, that family had been shattered. When she had first heard of Isley leaving for the Sith a part of her refused to believe it, but long ago she had learned that betrayal had no boundaries or limitations. Disbelief had been swiftly replaced with a fast-growing anger, though unlike previous incarnations of her rage this one burned cold as opposed to white hot. Such coldness gave her focus, and that alone made her more dangerous than she already was, a hair-trigger waiting for an excuse to be tripped. However, her volatility was far more restrained than it ought to be, because she had learned to keep some kind of control over her emotion, no matter how fickle. There would be no attempt on his life made - well, at least not right away. She wanted answers before putting any kind of final nail in the coffin.

Which was why she had bothered with contacting the man that had once been her brother, as opposed to simply hunting him as she did the rest of the Sith. Letting go wasn't as easy as she had a penchant for making it seem, and some part of her still did care about Isley far more than she had a right to after what he'd done. Because no matter what he'd become, this had once been her older brother, and she'd loved him and perhaps still did somehow. They had been there for each other countless times, and functioned as the other's right hand in a number of endeavors. In a way each was a mirror, but that had been reduced to meaningless shards with a single action, and there was no coming back from it. What had been done was done, and she'd spent too long a time reasoning through that with herself.

It was in the plains again she now stood, fully armored and armed with her EE-3, pistol and tomahawk - the same tomahawk he'd given her when she first claimed the name Verd as her own. When she had first arrived on planet she'd done nothing more than broadcast her coordinates to him, and from then on had resigned to wait. It had been a risky enough move as it was to land on Maridun, given its dangerously close proximity to Sith space, but it wasn't any worse than all that she had faced before. Until he made landfall she would do nothing more than remain where she was, a figure clad in phrik in the middle of the waist-high grass. Since he'd left she'd been the one to fill his shoes both as Warmaster and the Alor of Verd, and never had those mantles felt more hollow than they did now, standing on the world where it had all began.

[member="Darth Metus"]
 
They would never understand.

A lifetime had been wasted. Blood, sweat, and tears poured out in the name of something "greater." For the better part or his life, Darth Metus had served the Mandalorian cause. Yes. He had stumbled during his youth. Yes. He was not a shining example of a Force-loathing "vod." But for decades, he did his best. He put aside his personal desires in favor of what was best for Mandalore. He shouldered the animosity that came with attempting to restore the ancient ways. He shouldered the hatred of attempting to see Mandalore's glory reclaimed. And for what? His House...His Clan...They were not thanked for their sacrifices. Their names were not praised, or even spoken of in a good regard.

No. They were outcasts. Even in their most dominant state, they were as dung to the elders of the Mandalorian people.

And the Sith Lord finally had enough.

The name Verd was to be feared, not spat upon. Worshipped, not tread upon. Yet the current state of being was a stark contrast to his desires. No. Darth Metus would not stand another day flying the banner of swine who could not, for a millisecond, look at a bigger picture. No. He would walk his own path...the Path he had denied himself for so long. Death had eaten away all of the hope and delusions that once plagued the empty shell known as Isley Verd. Death had opened his eyes and fully illustrated that life was a finite concept. He now had a second chance...and he would not squander it by kneeling before a culture that despised him. And so, he left. He made no scene. He made no bold proclamation. Darth Metus simply turned his back.

Some of his House followed.

Others...

The Sith Lord announced his presence with the boom of high-boost engines. The thunderous sound ferried him from the heavens to the earth, revealing his entrance astride the Cin Bes'uliik. The behemoth crashed down viciously upon the earth, flattening the grasses within proximity whilst Darth Metus disembarked. Calmly. Quietly. He crossed the greenery until only a few feet separated the siblings. And Metus, like Keira, had come dressed for battle. His armor bled an Aura of Hunger, his Gauntlet screamed for sustenance, and his sabers pled for blood. Yet he did not move. He did not strike. He simply said...

"Here I am. What is there to say?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
Despite everything, Keira was happy to see him. It wasn't a fact she would admit aloud or so much as hint at, but regardless it was nice to find him unharmed and relatively no worse for wear. Too long had it been since brother and sister had taken the time to convene properly, and even when afforded the chance it seemed circumstances at hand and the galaxy itself wouldn't afford them a moment of peace. Nothing about him had truly been altered dramatically despite his fall, and although his presence still had a greater corrupt toxicity to it, it was still recognizable as her brother. But this time there would be no reaching out through the Force, no melding of their auras to signify a bond larger than themselves.

However, she did grant one kindness. Reaching up she released the seal of her helmet with a quiet hiss of pressurized air, working at the clasps to release it before she pulled it off her head and clipped it at her waist. There was no marked change of her countenance, though if he looked closely the line of her jaw was hard, muscles taught in a way that indicated a tumult of emotions festering just beneath the surface, waiting for an excuse to be released in a no doubt explosive manner. Her demeanor was just as calm as his own, though hers held an air of uncertainty, both towards him and how these next minutes would transpire.

"You told me. You told me to hunt down the Sith and root them out, because they were the enemy of our people. And yet now you abandon your family for their sake, and turn your back on all of us. You disgust me." The anger behind her words was quiet and suppressed in comparison to the storm in her eyes, but it was for his sake she was demonstrating restraint, even if she wasn't sure exactly why. There was nothing she could have possibly owed him, not after what he'd done, but still she was hesitant to lash out against him, because somewhere in the back of her mind he was still identified as family. This was her brother no matter which incarnation it happened to be, and some small part of her would always care for him because of that.

She took a breath, and the exhale that accompanied it was shaky in its barely contained emotion. "But. I cared about you, Isley. You were my older brother and I loved you, and in a way I still do. You and the rest of House Verd were the first family I've had since the Ticons, and the first family I've had that were actually there for each other." Rarely did she speak of that which she'd been born into, and this was the first time matters of her blood family had been discussed with him. It had never before been of importance, but she was beginning to think that while family may have been more than blood, apparently it was only the family you were born into that ever really stuck around.

"You left. You seem to have forgotten all of us except those who accompanied you. Why?"

[member="Darth Metus"]
 
"Because 'our people' have forgotten us."

His words were angry. More bitter than he anticipated coming from his own mouth.

"They hate us, Keira. Hate us for what we are. Hate us for the way we were born. We have a gift, one that could move mountains and sway the very Storms, but do they love us for it? Do they cherish us for fighting alongside them? Or do they make every effort to make us loathe being who we are?! They preach venom across the airwaves. Venom that my children and their children grow up hearing everyday."

"So you say I turned my back on our people?! No. They first turned their backs on ME. On YOU! ON each and every whelp unfortunate enough to be blessed with the Force. They treat us like dirt when we deserve to be Praised. Feared. Obeyed."

"Why did I leave Keira? Because there was no place for me...but there is always a place for you, at my side."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
It was almost difficult to believe the words she was hearing as they passed his lips, the venom they held ruthless in its delivery. But Keira couldn't say it had been entirely unexpected to hear him speak like this, so similarly to those he had once despised. He was the picture-perfect image of the Sith she hated, and it tore her open from the inside to listen to him insult what had once been their people so easily. But she didn't interrupt, didn't lash out once he'd finished. It wasn't her place to tell him he was unjustified in his anger, and she wouldn't start now. In comparison to the poison on his tongue her words were more akin to stone. "You know just as well as I that Mandalorians don't expect to be praised by their own people, let alone feared. That is not our way."

She looked him directly in the eyes as she spoke, the poisonous sulfur hue reminding her of her younger self. "Those that condemn us for our gift are few and far between. They fell with the Clans. But you never cared for their words, not until you started wanting more. Once upon a time you and I used to be of the same mind." A part of her wanted to ask what had happened, but she already knew the answer and didn't want to hear it. "The Force is nothing more than another tool, just as much as a blaster or a tomahawk. It doesn't raise you above anyone else. It just is." Never had she been the philosophical sort, and so the view of the ethereal the vode held melded perfectly with her mindset.

In response to his invitation she only shook her head, managing a slight smile and a humorless laugh. "No, there's not. There's never been a place for me there, and I see that now." Her expression seemed to grow more cold, it becoming a little easier to see this man not as who he'd once been but as he was now, and it was that which had the capacity for unleashing violence. "The Sith and their ilk are just as much a plague on this galaxy as the Jedi. I have enough self-respect to refuse to bend the knee to either." An ultimatum of sorts, and she could see his response going one of two ways. This time she would welcome the violence, if just for the cathartic release it promised.

[member="Darth Metus"]
 
[member="Keira Ticon"]

"Those that condemn who we are grow with each passing day, Keira. How long will it be until those who preach the venom also wear the crown of Mandalore? How long until you, a faithful vod, are hated for being yourself?"

With each syllable that slid past his lips, his tone rose.

He did not want to lose a sibling, but Darth Metus had made his choice. He would not stand for the slight of Mandalore any further. Stepping forward, the Sith Lord closed the gap between them, reaching out. His offhand gingerly caressed her cheek whilst his lips pressed to her brow - there was a quiet finality in the affection. His next words...the budding fury was surpressed for only a moment...

"If not for the Force, the majority of our House would have burned with Mandalore. If not for the Force, I would yet be dead. If that is not proof enough that those born Sensitive are better then...."

His hand lowered to his side and a step back was taken.

"Consider me a Plague upon the Galaxy. Consider me the same as those you despise. Know this Keira, there are no words you can speak that will bring me back to Mandalore...and I can see that there is nothing I can say to inspire you going with me. As such, let us both walk away...Let us remember who we were and not who we are now. But...if you get in my way after this day, it will not be Isley Verd whom you face."



"It will be Darth Metus."
 
Music

Sick though it made her to listen to him speak with such hatred and loathing, Keira didn't so much as flinch when he stepped closer to gently brush his fingers across her cheek, nor did she shrink away when he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. These were familiar gestures, affection she found comforting despite the circumstances that surrounded it. The finality each movement held was silently acknowledged, and no longer did she shy away from the thought that this marked the last time she would ever truly speak with the man she had once called brother. Their next meeting, should the galaxy be kind enough to grant them one, would not be so bloodless in its departure, this she knew. Second chances were not something either of them had in much supply, and this here was the final opportunity to find peaceful closure.

When he stepped back she took a long, last look, taking him in for all that he was, this Sith that stood before her. For the first time since both had set foot on the planet she opened her senses to his presence, allowing their separate auras to intermingle and meld for what would be the last time. Tainted and fallen though he had become, a fraction of the man he had been still remained, and it was that she was saying goodbye to, nothing more. Slowly she let her presence slip away from his own until they existed as individuals once more, the severing of ties symbolic just as much as it was literal. The muscles of her jaw worked slowly as she fought the rising thread of emotion in the back of her throat, not suppressing it quite so completely and rather allowing herself to feel the pain of this loss so that she might never experience the same again.

"Perhaps it would have been better for the galaxy if you had stayed dead. Goodbye, Isley. I loved you." With those final words she turned to walk away, her pace measured and steps even.

She didn't want him to see her cry.

[member="Darth Metus"]
 

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