The end to a not so beautiful friendship.

[Reverance]

Selvaris

Secret subterranean facility


"Abashed, the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is..." - John Milton, Paradise Lost

~~~

“What’s his name?”

The Sith Lord looked at the scientist, the bald man quietly read through the notes. Staring up from the glowing data pad, the tall figure gave a lanky smile.

“How do you mean?”

Reverance squinted his crimson eye as he approached the figure, broken against the rack. Well, he wasn’t broken, but he wasn’t really working. Hardly more than a corpse, the Warmaster felt an odd sense of influence, as if he was being shown a parallel world. A situation where he wouldn’t have so readily relieved himself of depth perception with smoke rising from the snow, blood forming melted ravines.

“I mean do you have a name for him…”
“No.” The good doctor responded quickly, the absurdity of the question provided an odd expression as he looked down his nose at Reverance.

He just smiled, if only for a moment, as he approached the body. Tilting his head, he pressed a finger against the closed eyelids and lifted. Lifeless and honey brown, Reverance jutted out his chin in contemplation. “Is that my original eye color?” He turned to the doctor, who pushed up the silver spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

“Did you want to discuss the process of the cloning or waste time on specifics all day?”
“I’ll do whatever suits me. And you’ll do well to remember that.”

He pressed his fingers against the bare chest of the clone, long in stasis. His fingers traced the scars and the illusions of raised edges of the tattoos across the flesh, smiling. It wasn’t a necessary request but one that he had completed for all the clones, that they appear as much as the original as possible. Truth be told, if this clone was being used for more devious means, he would have popped the right eye clean out and replaced the arm with a Voxyn Al’Do. But that wasn’t his goal, not now. Now was merely a strategic foreclosure, a final separation that couldn’t be completed at birth, despite efforts made. The cause of all his misery and pain and darkness, and not the sort he sought.

It was time.

The eruption of a lightning storm boomed in the background, rust colored and spattered with blood and blue flecks. Selvaris was as much a place of darkness as it was of beauty but Reverance couldn't appreciate that now, he couldn’t appreciate the pain and the mire and torture and all the other good bits he longed to adore. He missed Matsu, at least a part of him did. The part that longed for the cut, he missed the succinct tear, the sort of departure from sanity that could only be brought about by that meticulous drag of those phrik claws. And it never felt so good to cut. But the other side of him…

He walked through the mind clumsily, back crunched from the weight of sins. All necessary, all righteous, for the good of the universe one must carve a path to hell and tread it boldly. But since this invasion, since this war, since Taris, the mind had lost that unity and that focus. And Reverance hated it, hated that doubt and the implications of it when it came to his mission. He couldn’t go on this way, there was a cancer inside and it demanded acute and precise incisions. The sort of cut for which he longed. And in the end, they both had wanted it.

“The degradation, the mental instability, tell me about it.” He turned towards the doctor. “And be specific.”

 

[Dr. Alset Niest]

Madness. Like a scientist would provide anything other than specifics, this Lord had spent far too much time with the Yuuzhan Vong. But what could a man do? Toss out of the airlock, as it were, when Titan Industries turned it's back on the One Sith, a man does what he must to survive.

Alset pulled a pipe from his vest pocket, coarse rose wood with a black tip, and chewed on the end. It was an obvious habit, one made even more obvious by the residual marks left on the black.

​"Well, degradation. Lets see..." He scrolled through the data pad, the flicker of the lights echoed with symphonic notes coming out from the miniature speaker. "We genetically spliced in controlled Telemorase, beyond the usual amount." He looked at the Sith Lord. "Telomerase is the..." "Enzyme that controls the production of telomeres, the buffer for cellular replication. So when the cells replicate, the process doesn't chop off actual codes of DNA but instead pulls off portions of telomeres."

The Sith Lord looked back towards the scientist. For anyone else, it was an expression of indifference, as if to state "go on, continue." But Alset knew, he knew it for pride and vanity. And he scoffed quietly at it. "Yes, Arkanian...right." He said, fumbling over the data pad. "Due to that and the slower process of creation, with accumulated data...thanks to the kamino cloning chambers, I can safely say that he will merely age as all things do. No unusual degradation."

"What about cancer?"
Alset laughed for a moment, until he realized the Sith Lord wasn't joking. "The Telomerase is synthetic, yes, but the results are not. However, they are controlled, as I said...I can get into specifics on the genetic splicing, if you'd like."

The Sith Lord raised his hand to stop him. "Go on."

Alset approached the clone, looking up towards the raised brow and slight recession of the hair line. "We've done scans after scans, as far as we can tell, there is no source for mental instability. Not from the science side." He looked back towards Reverance. "But once it has a soul, there is no way to truly know." He paused and pushed his glasses up his nose. "But I suspect your sanity is more important, is it not?"

 

[Reverance]

Reverance smiled, turning back to the scientist. "I am mostly concerned for myself...Gabriel is a far and away second." He said with a tilt of his head, hand still on the chiseled muscles of the clone.

"Gabriel?"
"Yes." He said, ending the conversation as he turned back to the clone on the proverbial cutting block. "Tell me doctor, what have you heard about the ability to transfer essence. An old power maintained by the elite of the ranks of the Sith, a means to achieve immortality."

He walked over to a metal table, an old tome sitting upon it. It measure nearly four inches wide, smelling of old parchment and dried sinew. "I must...No, I've never looked into it or given the idea much credence." The doctor confessed, approaching the table next to Reverance. "Of course not, you live firmly cemented in the world of realism. Of science."

"Only seems appropriate, given my vocation." Alset gave a stern frown, suspicious of where this conversation was going.

Reverance opened the tomb and knelt, blowing hard as the dust flung about. Alset gave a wave of his hand as the Sith Lord gesticulated towards the runes and scripture, hand written by him over several decades. At one time, he had made obtaining knowledge about the Sith his primary objective. While he couldn't obtain control of any Sith Holocrons, he didn't need to if he could retain the knowledge in the form of written word. Alset seemed curious as he approached, pushing his glasses up as he attempted to translate the document. It was fairly obvious to Reverance such an endeavor would lead to only disappointment.

"Tell me about the physical attributes of this...meat sac."
"This meat sac?" Reverance turned to the scientist, visibly showing that he cared little for his opinion on the categorization of the clone. Sighing, Alset turned back to his data pad.

"Well, we maintained the same genome as you, though there are mild enhancements in strength and physicality." Reverance gave a look of curiosity. Alset responded. "It's still you. Just...the best of you. It will absent any trace of Yuuzhan Vong, of course."

"Of course." Like a light clicking on, Alset read the notes within the tomb and glanced back towards the Sith Lord. "Do...do you intend to use this for this...transfer?" Reverance smiled and closed the book, laughing. "Only partially. Now, good doctor." He lead the man back over to the clone and looked up towards the unconscious figure.

"Dr. Niest. What's his name?" The man looked around, searching the floor for the answer.
"Gabriel?"
"Very good, Doctor."

 

[Reverance]

"Who is Gabriel?"

Reverance looked with a tilt of his head as Alset put the needle into his arm. "Can you not hear him, Doctor?" The doctor paused and scoffed, lifting the fluids up onto the metal hanger. "Can you not feel him?" He chewed on the hairy growth beneath his chin, tilting it up as a nervous habit. Searching the room, he caught a collapse of condensation as steam jettisoned out from a pipe. "Would you like to hear a story, doctor?" He breathed in heavy, leaning back against the metal of the chair. Flipping the book open, he squashed the end of his finger against the parchment.

"Will the story lead me to the identity of this...Gabriel?"
"Most assuredly."
"Then yes, tell me a story."

The doctor began attaching observation patches to the chest and beneath the ribs, lifting the Sith Lords arms up to assist. "A child is born. And upon his shoulder, the remains of his brother. Well...as much as could be expected given the circumstances. It breathed, it blinked, but it had no hope for life." He looked up to the doctor, turning his head clumsily to view him through the one orbit. "The parents opt for surgery, yank the thing off and make like nothing ever happened. Well, that's a lie..." He looked back towards the clone and stood, approaching it. Nearly sent the doctor into a fit, dragging the equipment across the cold floor. Fingers deftly move across the raised rose edges of scars. "The father got a taste for the cutting, couldn't seem to stop. He was convinced that that abomination still existed..." His hand rubbed at the xyphoid process. "Inside, tucked deep away." He breathed in heavy and smirked, rolling his hand over in a twisting fashion, as if to gesticulate repetition. "So the boy becomes meat, even less so, and the mother leaves for better dreams and ambitions. To be a Jedi knight..." Reverance lifted his finger, an ah-ha moment, with a sinister smile, as he reached down to scratch the edge of one of the sticky sensors. "Of course, the father was right...that abomination still existed in there. Ended up killing the boys family. Once a man, he was a man alone. And in his guilt, the boy-turned-man plucked out his own eye. Tried to take the other as well, but that abomination stopped him." He laughed as he sat down, pulling the book back on to his lap. "Can't do much without an eye, can you...doctor?"

"No...you can't." Alset seemed to be stoic, but his tone was enough to taken back. "So, was Gabriel the name of the abomination?"
"Oh, no. No, I was the abomination." He patted his chest, almost triumphantly. "Gabriel's been the one stuck in here, with me. The tides turned long ago." Turning back to the clone, he chewed on his cheek. "And quite frankly, doctor...I'm tired of the company."

Alset walked around, looking at the clone and then back towards Reverance. "You carry both DNA sequences, don't you?" Reverance would squint in response. "Yes, unfortunately I can't get rid of that part of me."

 

[Dr. Alset Niest]

"Two DNA sequences..." Alset cupped the pipe in between his lanky fingers, placing the tip against his mouth. "So you are a Chimera...a pathology that has formed some sort of delusional breaking of the psyche?" The Sith Lord laughed, if only for a moment, but the doctor was all but serious. "You can't possibly think that you and Gabriel have separate souls, that his soul can be excised? Do you?"

"Do you believe in the spirit, the force? Doctor?"
"The spirit...absolutely not. There lies no empirical evidence of such a thing."
"What about the force?"
"I..." The doctor paused. "The data is inconclusive."

Reverance lifted his hand, the doctor felt the air around his throat thicken. And then manifest in a pressure, like being squeezed. His hands lifted to claw beneath it but to no avail, there was nothing there to contend with.

"What about now, Doctor? Is the data still...inconclusive?"

As it all went dark, patches of white motley intermixed with black, the pressure released and Alset heard the sound of the ambiance slowly stutter in. Dropping to his knobby knees, he coughed, as the red flush slowly left his face. "The force is a mysterious thing. A thing to be broken, like a disobedient animal. Trained and bent, it responds to the whip all the same."

"How..."Alset coughed. "How does Gabriel feel about it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean...how does your brother..." The doctor made dog ears symbols with his fingers, an obvious mockery of the circumstance. "Feel about the force?"
"Oh..."Reverance stopped and seemed to ponder. Or maybe he was just wasting air. "Never occurred to me. When the pilot charters a course, he doesn't ask the chef about his algorithms."

"Interesting metaphor..." The doctor brushed his knees off and checked the sensors. "Yet you are concerned with his removal...this transfer? If he is so meaningless, why bother? Why risk your body, as the charts would suggest is a potential risk?"

"Why?" His crimson eye ticked, an odd sort of facial gesture the doctor couldn't seem to understand. "I guess I just miss the silence." He exhaled, obnoxiously. "Things have changed. We were of a like mind and now we are not. Simple as that." Alset suspected that it was far more complicated than what he was being told. But he wasn't too keen on being choked again, he wasn't into it as much as the Sith Lord. If the rumors were true, as it were.

 

[Reverance]

"Remain by my side."
"Yes. I will watch your vitals and treat what symptoms I can."

Reverance gave a wavering glance to the doctor before he closed the book, having recalled the things so long ago. Some might wonder if this was something Sith Lords grew accustomed to, transfering essence from one body to another. But at the end of the day, whether they were practiced or not, everyone had to take that first jump from the cliff. From the breaking branch, he would discern whether he could truly fly. Or perhaps the cardio monitor would flatline as he stumbled towards the edge, plummeting to his death. He had earned this spot at the throne of the body, the weaker brother lingering in the shadows. He wouldn't have this [member="Chevu Visz"] changing that for him and if it meant an untimely demise, so be it. He wouldn't lose control again and more importantly, he wouldn't share it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nucWARdCOOg​

Closing his crimson eye, he opened himself to the force in the first form of meditation he had practiced in a very long time. The chasms of the mind ran deep, a depiction of an ice fortress was once shown to Matsu as he attempted to explain the physiology of his mind. One formed of ice, free of the sun, it was free of risk or departure. Until now. And as he entered the realm of his own mind, he found fog upon the floor and the crystalline breath conjuring form in memories long past.

"You can't burn them away, anymore."

The reflection of the man stood before him, a plate of polished steel stood erect within the belly of the chasm. The limelight shown through transparent sheets of ice above, color toned green to manifest a shimmering appeal across the condensing air. It was cold, he knew that, but it didn't feel cold. He didn't feel anything but wary, as he approached the plate. "No, I can't."

"Losing control? You were always so strong!"
"I am still strong. You weaken me...but that resides in a temporary consequence. Hand burned for approaching the fire."
"And now there is no fire left."
"No, not here. Not in this place."

One tilted his head as the plate of steel shattered, revealing that within the reflection of one lied the manifestation of the other. Two crimson eyes staring back at one another, mirrored movements as they approached, both pocketing their hands in similar gesticulation.

"So you would be rid of me?"
"Yes."
One laughed. "You wound me. Of course, it loses the surprise factor after so long, doesn't it?"
"An old dog..."
"Cant' learn new tricks? What is it you are doing now, then? Seems you are learning just fine."
"Adapting...that's different."
"Not from my point of view."
"Never been one to care about your point of view." He turned and walked to his left, his reflection followed.

"No, you've always had that odd myopia, an apathy."
"More to my strength."
"No..." The reflection shook his head, this time he did it alone. "Excuses. You have abandoned yourself."
"Literally."
"This isn't a joke, Reverance."

One lifted his head, his arms, as he approached the curtained expression of light across the room. "It's been so long since someone called me that...and it were true. It feels..." He gripped his hand into a fist and smirked. "It feels good." The other remained quiet, allowing this perception of freedom to wash over his brother, to taste that life that neither had ever known.

"Do you remember that night in the snow?"
"Like it was yesterday."

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gik1C-Z8ERw​

Snow drifts push along the edges of the valley, moving beasts in the night with a torrential gust. Snow, dry and lofty, lift about to topple against one another, as the world displaces itself over and over again. The wind howls, tundra pine catch the whistle as the beast of a storm wails in the night, wheezing in delight.

"What do you think might have happened, that night, if you didn't step in?"
"Me? We reconciled this as a genuine act, did we not?"

One would laugh at the response, walking forward to leave no steps in the snow. The black shirt upon shoulders nonreactive to the environment, a shadow in the tempest. "Hunched, I walk with a crook. For the sins we have committed." He lifted his hand, a blast of snow surged through it, as if he weren't even there.

"That's because you are weak."
"No!" He said, an outburst that kowtowed the wails of the storm. "No!"
"Is that it, then?" The other would laugh in response. "Is that your response?"
"What you did...we did that night? It was the easy path, it was quick."
"I agree."

The one would exhale and look out, the smoke rising from the stacks of the house as the flames licked against the mortar. Even as the shell, he could almost smell the sinew and flesh burning. Tormund, Samson...Sylvia. Or maybe that was just the memory of the night, filling this void of sensation with something real and whole.

"You were never interested in life, were you?"
"Only in what I could gain from it."

The one scoffed as he approached the building, walking in to the fire and ruin. In the bedroom, he looked down to the children, long past but still showing semblance of life. He tried to mesh the hair down on Tormund, tried to tuck in Samson. But there was no avail as the other simply watched with glee. A wave of empathy, he walked into the master bedroom, the wife long dead before the fire. "I remember how...happy she was when I got home."

"We got home."
He breathed in, placing a hand over her forehead, and nearly pushed through as a ghost would. "No, you were never here. You bare no responsibility for this. I carry the weight alone."
"That's because I celebrate it."
"Yes. I know." He stated as he left the burning building, charred snow bordering the perimeter. Approaching the forest line, he got down on two knees.

"This again?"
"In lucidity, I attempted to punish myself for the crimes I committed."
"We commite..."
"I!" He stated through clenched teeth, breathing heavily. "You are not bound by any laws, Reverance, you are merely something that exists. You cannot commit a crime because you don't understand it! You should be put down, like a rapid dog!"

The other laughed, clapping his hands. "You are right, Gabriel. I am a monster. And yet...here I remain. Do you wish to 'put me down'"?
The one shook his head slowly. "With all my heart, no. You are my brother, I can't mitigate that for the reckoning you deserve."
"That's because you are weak." He knelt down, getting into his brothers face, showing almost the sentiment of sincerity. "And you always have been."
The one would turn. "What is it that you want of me? To torment me further?"
"No..." He brushed a piece of hair from his face. "Just to be rid of you."

The one paused and turned back to the house. "We are of a like mind then. Do it. Rid me of your existence."

~~~​

The pulse spiked, temperature elevated, as the body began to convulse. Alset ran around the metal chair, taking notes and pushing fluids through. He prepared the defibrillator if needed but continued to monitor, placing ice packs on the neck and under the arm pits. He was an old man tending to the needs of the old.

 

[Reverance]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gik1C-Z8ERw​

The mind isn't a thing so easily split. But when it's formed from two to begin with, it merely takes the right shears, the right cutting edge. Then that seam because nothing but a guided path, a stitched edge to snip away and finally end what should have been ended so long ago. Two minds joined together in one brain, forced to co-habitat, they had long passed the point of ever agreeing. Except on this one point, wherein a mental conversation would transform into mitosis. Two halfs splitting to find their own way, both leading to some form of mutual perdition. Gabriel wanted it but as much as he did, he feared a life without that thing he had known so long. And Reverance merely wanted what he wanted, nothing could change that, and the risk of a life removed from what he knew wouldn't deter him. Nothing would, a fact others would soon come to appreciate without the humbling words of Gabriel in the foray.

The body convulses again, temperature rises, as the back forms an erect column moved away from the back of the chair. A doctor sees to his patient, opens the one eye lid to see the whites of the eye. He squints and breaths heavy, running over to the IV bag. Pulling out a solution of NSAIDS and saline, he injects to help break down the cause of the inflammation. Or at least to deter it, keeping the brain within this body from boiling. Looking down, he saw the peeling ooglith from the voxyn arm and bared his teeth, realizing that even the beast was developing some form of discomfort. Serves him right, the doctor thought, as he continued to watch and treat.

That metal pane again, no longer there but always present. It would tremor before them, standing side by side in the frozen fortress once more.

"What do you want, Reverance? What do you truly want?"
"Rage, fire, mayhem. And order."

The one smiled and shook his head, looking at the reflection of his brother rather than the solid form of him.

"Your misguidance, your blinding ambition. It will be the end of you."
"And your weakness will be the end of you."
"Yes, maybe."
The other squinted his eye and smiled. "Do you really mean to go to Sullust?"
"Get out of my head Reverance, I have given you the same privilege."
"What an odd request, given our circumstances...wouldn't you say."
"No. Justified."

The other laughed and looked down, nodding. "Okay. But you realize they will persecute you for how you appear, on your physical traits alone."
"The thought crossed my mind."
"Then why..." The other seemed almost mad at the logical misstep. The one smiled in response, looking towards the nearly translucent ceiling.
"I am tired of the cold. I am tired of this place. I'm tired of running. And I'm tired of you. Finish it."

The clones body began to move, hand ticking against the nylon strap as the head snapped one way and then another. The doctor looked towards it, dumbfounded, as he watched the spiking temperature of the Sith Lord within the chair. He almost thought he saw steam rising from the tattooed and scarred flesh, replacing the melted ice bags with new ice, he continued to steady the vitals.

"Almost done now..." The other placed a hand upon his brothers forehead, caged behind the bars of a dusty prison cell. From beyond the bars, the other smiled.
"Yes, I can feel the transition..." He placed his head against the bar, the heat almost unbearable. He didn't have the fortitude to recall this memory.
"Yes, but it's almost over. And then we can celebrate."
"Celebrate...and how do you intend to do that?"
"Well..." The other walked quietly, strumming his fingers across the bar. "I think I might do something I've always wanted to do."
"Oh?" He looked up from the dank floor, hands nested against the metal.
"Oh yeah." He placed his face against the bars, starring at the back of the wall. "I think I'll kill you."
"Ah..." The one laughed, shaking his head. "I'm strapped to a table, aren't I?"
"Yes."
"Well...guess I'll have to get out then."
The other smiled and nodded. "I do enjoy the chase."

The clone opened it's eyes, honey brown. The light seemed almost blinding, as he squinted. The doctor rushed over, just in time for him to break the nylon straps and crash on top of him. Reverance opened his eye, feeling incredibly weakened. This wasn't the sort of pain he longed for, the sort of scalding temperature that coursed across his flesh. He ached and the misery was almost too much as he hunched over, blinking blurry at the man before him. It was him, but not.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Ufe2JtYqZI​

No pain, only guilt, only the burden of sins. And peace in accepting responsibility, mentality imparting cues upon his physiology. He let out a cough, the sort that seemed to never stop, as the evil that was once so clinging to him seem choked free. The anger, the malice, the hatred and the pain, it all dripped from his lips as the doctor rolled away and scuttled across the floor, flabbergasted. Prominent vein throbbed from a headache, the sort coming on from the built up pressure, as Gabriel looked towards the doctor.

"Gabriel?"

He exhaled, the name meaning something, for the first time in his entire life. Blinking slowly, he staggered to a stand, nothing on him but an undergarment and the scars and the tattoos. The long grey and black hair, tightly woven on his scalp, twisted over his shoulder as he flexed his fists. Even in the darkness of the room, the ambient light was almost too much, as he attempted to adjust.

"It will take a bit of time, those eyes haven't been used yet." The doctor was standing up slowly as Gabriel put out a hand.

"Don't."

The doctor put up his hands, nodding nervously. His voice was coarse, he rubbed his throat in response, squinting as he approached Reverance and knelt, two knees pressed against the cold floor. Tilting the Sith Lords head back, he watched the crimson eye roll to the side.

"Was this how you expected it to go?" Hands were hot, the flesh of on his forehead was burning.
"Not exactly..." Reverance let out a laugh, spitting blood on to the floor. "Do it."
"Do...what?" Gabriel shook his head, confused.
"Kill me."
Gabriel smiled and shook his head. "No, brother. No. We have killed enough together, I wont add you to my scales."
Reverance laughed between coughs, shaking his head. "Pathetic."

Standing up, Gabriel looked around and nodded. "Maybe. But I can live with that." Lurching forward, he uppercut the Sith Lord, landing a fist beneath the chin and bouncing him against the chair. Unconscious, he heard a ringing noise in his ear as he looked at the tattered flesh and body of his brother. Pressing his finger against his tragus, he pushed it and rubbed. Nothing, in fact the noise got louder, until he looked over at the scientist, who had tripped the alarm. Sighing, he looked towards the hanger near the door. Running over, he pulled the armorweave robe from it and gripped Roecnar in hand. Throwing the robe over, he knew he just needed to get to the Star Viper. The War-Torn armor and clothes were stored in the locker and he could set a course for Sullust. Turning back to the doctor, he opened the door and nodded. "Another time, doctor."

The hallway was long and filled with white light, padded foot steps of a bare footed man clapped against the floor. He attempted to increase his speed but couldn't seem to tap it, not with his anger. He felt disconnected from the darkside, the tap and foundry from which his powers formed was absent. In there place was a different feeling, the sort that pleaded with him. He wasn't used to asking, but he knew the depths of the lightside, despite having never taken to this train of thought. He knew the path, despite never treading it. And it felt comforting.

Warm foot prints in his stead, sweaty and residual, he came to a sliding stop against polished subsurface, just in time to ignite the red saber and deflect a bolt upward. His head pounded, he was desparate, and he clamored for help. The force would answer his plea with the depth of understanding, to anticipate where a bolt would land before it was released from the barrel. And in result, the red energy shot upwards into the roof. He knew these men, not by name, but by placement. Soldiers of the One Sith, held to a post deep beneath Selvaris, he force pushed against the t-crossing of the hallway as they slammed against the wall. Their armor slapped of a tone he hadn't heard before, largely because every sound was a new sound for this body. And yet, not so foreign.

Pressing the key code on, he ran out into a heavily fortified sub-terranean hangar bay. The star viper sitting upon cold stone, he pressed the door hatch and entered, closing it behind him. Activating the code that opened the surface level hatch, he powered on the machine and entered in the commands. As it tilted back and sky rocketed upward, climbing through the shaft and towards the surface, bolts and fire skittered across the blackened edge. And like a molten ball spit up from a volcano, he ejected from the opening and it closed behind him. Contrails of black and gray passed eagerly behind in plumes of thick billowing smoke and the man leaned against the chair, relieved. Until the molten blue plasma swung past him, within meters of the ship, and sailed to the ground in an eruption upon the bogs.

"Damn..." He uttered as he took the stick. The yaret-gavvuk, mounted below, swelled and with each eruption, sent fluorescent blasts of mortar across the sky. Deft hands trailed across the dash as the vehicle swerved in between the blue rain, lifting into orbit and beyond. Soon enough, the range would be too much for even them and he knew, all he needed was to jump and the planet would be left behind, never to return. And as he turned towards the darkness of space, facing the front of his ship upon the projected hyperspace route, he looked through the side glass to spot the Teleute monstrosity, sitting and approaching. Smiling, he clicked on the ships hyperdrive capabilities and blasted out, leaving that abhorrent planet in his rearview.