Private The Modern Prometheus

[Arlo Renard]

Test Site Verdant Pasture, Dahrtag
Shortly after the Doppelganger was captured…

Silas Fogg lay on a sofa in the lounge, deep in a sudden nap brought on by exhaustion. When his comlink started chirping, he didn’t move to answer it, even as it went on ringing for several minutes. The chirping eventually stopped, but then a few moments later the doors slid open. “Mr. Fogg!” exclaimed the squeaky voice of Khayyam. He was an elderly Chadra-Fan, a species of bat-like alien.

“Grufm,” answered Silas, turning his face toward the couch pillow underneath his head.

Khayyam scrambled over to the sofa, raising a webbed wing to nudge Silas with his claw. “Go ‘way,” Silas grumbled, swatting at him.

“Mr. Fogg, someone is coming,” Khayyam urged. “Someone claiming to be sent by the voivode.”

“What?” Silas asked, squinting. “Who?”

“I hailed them once the sensors picked up their approach. They say they have come on behalf of the voivode,” Khayyam hissed. “They mean to ask us questions. I can sense it!”

Silas sat up, stumbling to his feet. “Well, did you—hide all our stuff? Flush the systems? Put the kids somewhere they won't be seen nor heard? What are you doing waking me up when you haven't even done all that, you flying rat bastard?”

Khayyam made an indignant whuffling sound like a tiny angry sneeze. “You’re the commander, Mr. Fogg—I have to at least wake you whenever something happens.” He scurried out of the room to take care of business, muttering under his breath, “Should have put me in charge… If it were proper and military-like around here, I’d be the senior officer!...”

Still groggy, Silas went to the ‘fresher and splashed water on his face. His reflection in the mirror had seen better days. All this added stress wasn’t doing him any favors. You'd think taking command of a scientific research facility, tantamount to fulfilling his lifelong dream, would be much more fulfilling. Instead he was cold, miserable, and overworked.

He made his way down to the hangar at a slogging pace, his movements sluggish, only for the arctic chill to blast him to full alertness the moment the seal was broken. He shook himself, shivering, and peered out. “Hot ride,” he muttered, looking over the handsome black shuttlecraft now parked in the hangar. “Please be a woman, please be a woman, please be a woman…”

The doors to the shuttle opened.

“Feth," he hissed. Clearing his throat, he greeted the young man who exited the ship with an unenthusiastic wave and a dry "Hello there. I'm Silas Fogg, I'm in charge here. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Dagon had swapped out the signature New Jedi leather jacket for a winter one the Lady had provided him with; she had said it herself - 'they'll be downright trigger-happy if the Jedi or the Alliance come knocking at their door'. So he struck a deal with the devil herself and opted for a covert operation. Acting. Disguises. Roles. My agent. The thought didn't sit well with the Jedi but sometimes the means did justify the ends, especially when the life of a trapped boy was at stake.

On his journey to the mysterious facility, the Jedi couldn't help but curiously ponder over the Lady's enigmatic identity. She always appeared to carry herself with a mysterious shroud, fueling distrust and suspicion, and at the same time possessed an almost unnatural charisma; hooking him a beguiling tether not too different than that pull Zeltrons possessed, yet where the purple-skinned race radiated and basked in warmth, she felt cold, distant. The world itself was odd, inexplicable even, it only made sense that their so-called Voivode served as its epitome.

The hangar was a welcomed respite from the arctic cold outside, its thick walls holding off the frigid wind that had picked up just prior to the Jedi's arrival. Just as he disembarked from the transport, a lanky figure slithered reluctantly to greet him. A young man in a rather regal garb with a withered tone. He hardly bothered to hide his irritation at Dagon's arrival.

"Dag--" ah, yes, the agent. "--you can call me Dag." he curtly inclined his head at Silas. This is off to a good start.

"Here on behalf of the Lady Ardal. Looking into the arrest of Messala. Matters of national security." the last line he'd heard in a holofilm. "Appreciate any help I can get."

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

“Dag,” Silas echoed, speaking the name as if he were a cat coughing up a hairball. The mention of Messala, however, quickly changed his tone. “Didn’t someone already come and—and take care of him?”

Silas had gone even paler and was blinking rapidly. He did not want to be hit with this today. But he seemed to recover some fleeting shred of dignity before the silence could stretch on for too long. “All right, uh—well, there’s a long story involved, and I’m not really the best person to tell it. But there are others who could. First off, would you care to come inside?” He moved out of the way so Dag could enter.

Immediately upon passing the threshold, the air would grow much, much warmer. A hallway stretched out before them, the stone walls lined with heat lamps and eccentric sculptures of humanoid faces. At the far end of the passage, a young tree bristling with red leaves grew out of a patch of earth somewhere underneath the floor.

Silas led the way past the sculptures and the tree to the very same room he had been napping in: the lounge. Upon opening the door, he heard a clatter of metal and saw a trembling Khayyam attempting to pour freshly brewed caf into a mug.

“Jittery today, eh?” Silas sneered.

Khayyam ignored him, but his claws were shaking so badly he spilled hot caf all over the counter. “Castor and Pollux blow me to Bardotta!” the little white bat swore under his breath. He clenched his fist, and with a mild exertion of telekinetic force he gathered the spilled liquid into a dark rippling sphere and lobbed it into the trash can. “You,” he squeaked, turning to Dag and thrusting out the mug to him. “You better drink this, or I’m going to—”

“Cry,” Silas deftly interrupted the obvious threat. “Master Khayyam will weep if you refuse his hospitality.”

Khayyam glared at him. Silas glared right back, a gleam in his eye, until Khayyam relented with a sigh, hopping over to a nearby armchair and wringing his small pink claws.

“This is Dag, an agent of the voivode,” Silas explained. “He’s come to ask us about Messala.”

“What the devil does he want with that… devil?!” Khayyam sputtered, his nose twitching. “He went to jail, what more is there to it? Or does the voivode suddenly want to know all about it now? What made that bloodsucking wench suddenly decide to care?”

“We are on her world. I should think she'd like to know what's happening in it.”

“A pasty broad claiming ownership of a whole planet and parading around calling herself ‘the Voivode of Dahrtag’ is no basis to call it ‘her’ world, you lecherous peacock!”

“Flittermouse.”

“Fop!”

The two would go on like this forever if nothing stopped them.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

“Dag,” Silas echoed, speaking the name as if he were a cat coughing up a hairball. The mention of Messala, however, quickly changed his tone. “Didn’t someone already come and—and take care of him?”

Dagon remained silent to Silas' rhetorical question and simply followed the man deeper into the facility. Of course there's a long story involved; there always seems to be. He mentally sighed. Nothing the Jedi got dragged into ever was short and simple. Webs upon webs of brain-wrecking complications.

It's what sharpened his own detective flair.

He came to be surprised at the sight of peculiar sculptures lining up the walls of the hallway; far from a sight to expect in a plant lab. An air of megalomania lingered above each of the stone-carved humanoid faces. Without any prior knowledge, Dagon would've thought he was walking down the same red carpet in the Lady's fortress.

Silas led the way past the sculptures and the tree to the very same room he had been napping in: the lounge. Upon opening the door, he heard a clatter of metal and saw a trembling Khayyam attempting to pour freshly brewed caf into a mug.

Silas led him into what looked like a lounge, the strong smell of fresh caf revitalized his exhausted mind. A trembling Chandra-Fan covered in white fur was trying his best at the caf-machine only for his efforts to spill into failure. Literally. What would've been a funny sight turned to suspicious curiosity when the alien manipulated telekinetically the liquid into a sphere. The abrupt and sharp offer of caf mug took Dagon back, almost forcing him to take a step back.

"Thanks. I guess." he didn't take a sip; not yet, at least. The rising tension, veiled beneath casual words, caught the Jedi's attention. Any form of introducing himself to Master Khayyam were thwarted by the outburst of verbal artillery crossfire between Silas and the Chandra-Fan.

"Alright, alright, enough." Dagon raised his voice bringing the squabble to a halt. The whole situation unfolding seemed like a poorly rated comedy shtick but with a nasty secret no one wanted to admit.

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" he found some form of authority in his voice - mostly out of his presumed role as the Lady's agent. "How did Messala end up here out of a places?"

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

The dynamic duo were temporarily silenced by Dag’s outburst, at least until Khayyam replied, “Messala came here from Cophrigin V after the Draelvasier invaded the planet, destroying his home. He brought along his entire household, whatever belongings he could save, and even a few refugees. Although they didn’t stick around for long—I assume your Lady gave them citizenship.

“Anyway, he sent for me, his old colleague Khayyam, to come here and help him get this place running again. This is Test Site Verdant Pasture—it’s been here for at least a couple years, but the company that runs it, the Primyn Group, was in dire straits after its founder died. Most of the people working here had up and left, afraid things would change for the worse. Messala was one of the higher-ups in the Group, what they call an ‘Archon’, so he had the authority to take command of this facility. Are you following, Dag?”

“I’m sure he understands you just fine,” Silas muttered with a sigh. He would've tried to shut Khayyam up, or at least scold him for name-dropping a secret TSE alchemist coven, but he was too tired to care anymore. Besides, Dag was just an agent of the voivode, and she didn't care about the Sith.

“All right, so I'm here, working, minding my own business, when these two agents show up one day, massacre the security droids, and say they want Messala dead or alive. I knew Messala had been involved in some shady chit, but I underestimated how bad it really was.” Khayyam snorted in contempt. “Let’s just say he had apparently been involved in the kidnapping of a child. A little girl, to be exact. He allegedly got his apprentice to abduct her as revenge for something the kid’s father did, or something along those lines, I don’t know all the details of the case. But the gnarly-faced hairy hobgoblin was captured and sent to prison—not just any prison, but an amber prison.”

“It’s like being encased in carbonite, but more aesthetic,” Silas explained, smirking. "In other words, he won't be bothering any more children any time soon. Although, curiously enough, Messala had four kids of his own. You'd think he would know better than to put a father through something like that. Anyway, his children were shipped off to the Silver Jedi after his arrest..." He trailed off, noticing Khayyam was shaking even worse than before, his agitation boiling over like water in a pot. "Are you having some kind of fit?"

"I'm fine!" Khayyam snapped. "It's cold in here." He got up to pour himself a mug of caf, spilling it again. "Lucas A. Skywalker!" he swore, but kept trying.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Dagon allowed his detective skills to take precedence over the Force, carefully analyzing Khayyam's story. A few things stood out - Test Site Verdant Pasture, the kidnapped child and Khayyam's emotional conclusion with yet another spill of his caf mug. If Dagon had come here seeking to alleviate his suspicions (he hadn't), only the opposite of that occurred. He retained a sense of neutrality on his face, maintaining the role of the Lady's distant but authoritative agent.

"I'd like to see this 'Test Site Verdant Pasture'." the Jedi stated calmly, then, "And then you can tell me more about the kidnapped child; like - what happened to her?" the immediate observation was that the kidnapped girl was the creature he had just pacified and reluctantly allowed to remain in the Lady's care. But it was a stretch, a knee-jerk reaction sourcing from his impatience to solve this mystery as soon as possible. However, the creature was a boy, unless...it wasn't. Dagon's connection to the Force was not as perfect as that of a Jedi Master, so he couldn't just rule out the possibility just yet.

He put the mug of caf on the nearby table. Untouched.

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Silas raised his hands “Why, you’re already in Test Site Verdant Pasture. This whole facility is the verdant pasture in which we grow… things.”

“He wants to see the greenhouse,” Khayyam grumbled irritably. He guzzled his caf noisily, then eyed Dag’s discarded mug.

“Well, Master Khayyam, would you do us the honor of giving a guided tour?”

The Chandra-Fan set down his empty mug and seized Dag’s, then eyed the Lady’s agent warily. “If you’re not going to drink it, I’ll not let it go to waste. Follow me.” He then headed out of the lounge, expecting the other two to follow him.

The trio were carried by lift to another level of the facility. A door just beyond the elevator slid open to reveal… a greenhouse. Full of plants growing in various conditions. Nothing shocking. It would perhaps be a disappointment for the suspicious Jedi in their midst, who might’ve expected rooms full of honey-colored artificial wombs gestating hideous Sithspawn monstrosities, the walls graffitied with grotesque runes in ur-Kittât.

Khayyam paused after sipping Dag’s caf. “I don’t know anything more about the girl.”

“I do,” Silas replied. “In fact, I know more of the story than you do, master.”

“How surprising,” Khayyam muttered sarcastically. “I always suspected you wound up here by currying her favor via the erogenous arts.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.” Shaking his head, Silas plucked a magenta fruit from one of the greenhouse’s trees. “I was one of the many people who helped her and the Jedi find Messala. I am many things, most of them less than virtuous, but I have no tolerance for those who harm children. This is my reward.”

“Ah, that must be why I can’t seem to resent you.” Khayyam watched Silas break open the fruit, revealing dark red seeds very similar to those of a pomegranate. He licked his chops. “But enlighten us, please.”

“Master Khayyam is correct in saying that a little girl was kidnapped.” Silas tossed one of the seeds to the Chandra-Fan, who caught it in his mouth and gnashed it happily between his teeth. “But he neglected to mention that the girl’s mother was also abducted, and that the two of them were experimented on during their captivity.” He threw another seed, which Khayyam narrowly caught. “Both were eventually released, but they were… not the same.” Khayyam missed the seed this time, forcing Silas to throw him another one. “So the family hired people to take care of Messala and his minions for them, and that is how we all came to be here today.”

Pausing thoughtfully, he asked, “Why exactly are you here, Dag? You said matters of national security, but this case has already been solved. Surely the voivode has seen the paperwork. What does she really want?”

Khayyam gulped. "I pity any man that works for her," he muttered, trying to change the subject.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Nothing in the greenhouse alarmed the 'agent'. Not too different than the ones on Coruscant, except for being far less fume-induced. Dagon wasn't sure he should've expected anything else. If these two were in some form accomplices to Messala, or rather the boy's precarious 'situation', they wouldn't have led him here. As a matter of fact, if these two had any hint of guilt, the Jedi was assured they wouldn't just go out and admit. He either had to catch them in a lie in a web of cross-referencing questions or...sneak in later at night as Dagon Kaze rather than Agent Dag.

Both Silas and Khayyam didn't look like the most innocent individuals in the galaxy that was certain; even through the Force he could sense ripples of uneasiness from the duo. Yet, the edge between them could be completely unrelated to Dagon's snooping. Khayyam seemed like the grumpiest sentient who just abhorred waking up to life every day, while Silas reminded him of those male joytoys in the Coruscanti brothels; establishments he frequented only due to criminal investigations. They always seemed to play ignorant but somehow always ended up in the midst of the case, deliberately or not.

"Experimented on?" Dagon narrowed his eyes ignoring the question levied at him, although he found sympathy in Khayyam's words of pity for anyone working for the Lady.

"Elaborate more - where were they experimented on? Here? And what do you mean they were not the same?"

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Silas very obviously rolled his eyes heavenward as Dag refused to answer his question. Khayyam took this opportunity to snatch the fruit from his grasp and began devouring the seeds noisily, behaving like… well, like a hungry bat.

“Experimented on as in experimented on,” Silas replied snarkily, folding his hands behind his head and stretching. When asked to elaborate, he smirked to hide his dismay. Well, they were probably better off telling the truth than lying, even if it did make their merry little arctic research facility look about ten times more suspicious.

“Not here. Back on Cophrigin V, I think. From what I understand, he was able to give the girl Force sensitivity by messing around with her midi-chlorians…”

“Blech,” Khayyam muttered sourly, though whether he was reacting to Silas’ words or some bad bit of the fruit was anybody’s guess.

“... and he took the mother’s essence, consciousness, soul, whatever, and put it in a new, artificially created body. Basically, he used them as playthings.”

“That was his way,” Khayyam said, spitting out the inedible rind. “An agent of chaos. ‘Let’s do this just to see what will happen.’ No thought to the needless pain and suffering he would cause.”

“Didn’t he do it as revenge?” Silas asked, puzzled.

“Didn’t you say he got his apprentice to do it?” Khayyam fired back.

Silas’ brow furrowed, then he shook his head. “It’s not worth overthinking.”

“You don’t say.” Khayyam spat again, looking slightly nauseous. “Agent Dag, I’m going to be frank with you. I think I know why you’re here. But you’ve got to tell us yourself.”

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Dagon's face turned pale as Silas explained the details around the experiments. His nonchalant tone hardly helped. The Jedi spaced out for a few moments assimilating the information - his initial suspicions coming to life. Such experiments were of the nature of the Dark Side. He had read on it during his research over the Shadow after his seclusion post-Ziost.

And if this Messala was indeed a Sith, or a Dark Jedi at the least, what did that make 'Test Site Verdant Pasture'? He owned it, in a sense, as a founder of the Group that legally did.

I've got to get that kid to Coruscant but good luck convincing the Lady. Dagon rubbed his face nearly forgetting that Silas and Khayyam existed before he diverted his attention to them, specifically to the latter's question.

Don't really have time to play the fool anymore. Was nice meeting you, Agent Dag, but show's over.

"I think you know why I'm here." Dagon replied coldly. He pulled open his jacket to reveal the lightsaber hilt clinging inside.

There was no other place on this planet from where Kai could've spawned from.

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Silas’ eyebrows rose as “Agent Dag” flashed his lightsaber at them. His gaze slid to Khayyam. “Was that what you thought he was here for?”

“Nope,” Khayyam squeaked. “I thought you were here because the Lady wanted to get in on the alchemy. I was going to say you should tell her no, because we don’t… do that here anymore.”

The thick silence that descended upon the trio was cut by the sound of a cheerful ringtone. Dagon’s comm was going off. If he were to check, he would find that Amelia was calling him. If he ignored the comm, it would keep ringing.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Alchemy?! Here??

The surprise flashed only for a fraction of a second across his face before he buried it under the rugs.

The kid!!

He was about to dart when his comms began to ring. Speak of the devil.

<"Yeah?">

This time Dagon was the one not getting straight to the point. That was a first.

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

“Dagon, how good of you to actually answer,” Amelia said irritably. It hadn’t taken him very long to pick up—not very long at all—but her patience was wearing thin in light of recent events.

“Your boy is awake, and apparently fully healed. He’s also trashed the medical bay, possibly killed at least three doctors, and… well, to put it bluntly, he now looks just like you.”

From where she was standing, with a one-way window thick enough to survive an explosion between her and Kai, she could see him. The spitting image of Dagon, down to the clothes he’d been wearing when Kai had encountered him in the woods, had backed himself up into a corner of the room. He sat on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest, gaze wandering constantly, jumping at every electronic blip and creaking floorboard. It was bizarre, talking to Dagon on the comm and seeing… this child in a man’s body before her. More bizarre than she was used to, at least.

“For whatever reason, he has mimicked your appearance exactly," she added, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "Something tells me you have about as much of a clue as I do, but I have to ask… have you found anything up there yet?”

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

"W-w-what...?" the padawan stammered, his eyes widening at the news received from the other side of the line. He ran a hand through his hair, then added solemnly, "I'm coming back." he cut off the line and dived into thought. This facility would live another day to hide its secrets, perhaps disappear from the radar of the New Jedi until another time; the Sithspawn, or whatever it was, boy or not, was priority.

"We'll talk again." he turned heel to leave without another word.

That's certain.

---

​

It was the last rays of sunlight when Dagon arrived back at the Lady's fortress. His whole journey devoted to the inner workings of his brain tirelessly trying to piece everything together. Hardly anything came up.

And once more he stepped unto the red carpet leading to the Lady's throne. This time he didn't amble forward but stomped ahead with vigor, and this time he didn't stop until the guards finally shifted their stances in protection to their liege.

"Take me to...him." Dagon stated. The boy. The Lady's dabble in Sith alchemy. Verdant Pasture. In that order.

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Silas and Khayyam watched Dagon go, then exchanged glances.

“Well, that was…” Silas began.

“Underwhelming,” Khayyam muttered. “Should we be worried? Wipe everything down and move outta this place?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure.” Silas shrugged, turning to examine a sapling. “Unless you have something to hide.”

“Course I do. I worked for Messala first, didn’t I?” The Chandra-Fan chuckled. “Did you see the look on that Jedi’s face when I mentioned alchemy? Looked like someone stepped on his toes.”

“Yes, yes. They always react that way. We ghastly Sith, with our ghastly alchemy.” Silas looked back at Khayyam and frowned. “What do you suppose he was really here for?”

Khayyam folded his little pink claws over his belly. “A Jedi here on Dahrtag, claiming to be an agent of the vampire wench? Hm. Probably because of the Doppelganger.”

Silas raised an eyebrow. “You mean… a Sith Doppelganger?”

“Yup. Messala had me grow one and bring it with me here. He had this little, uh, a newborn crystal thing, and he wanted to take its soul and put it into the Doppelganger.”

“And you let him do it?”

“Do I really have to explain it again? I didn’t let him do anything. He was my superior. I answered to him, not the other way around.” Khayyam whuffled indignantly. “Don’t look at me like that! You were a subject of the Sith Empire, same as I! You know how bad it could get for we hired underlings if we defied our bosses!”

“A newborn.” Silas rubbed his face in exasperation. “A newborn. Messala gets worse every time I hear him mentioned.”

“You’re welcome to piss on the chunk of amber he’s currently encased in, should you ever find it. I know I would.” Khayyam hopped down. “Now, let’s clean this place up in case any more Jedi come snooping around...”

***​

The guards led Dagon to the medical bay. Amelia still stood before the window. Without moving her head, her eyes slid toward Dagon, watching him out of the corner of her eye as the Jedi approached from her left.

“Good timing,” she said. “We haven’t been able to retrieve the bodies or provide medical aid.” She indicated the three prone forms lying on the floor inside the sealed room, some with injuries apparent.

Kai raised his head, looking in the general direction of Dagon. He couldn’t see him, but he could sense his presence in the Force. Dagon would feel a slight prying, more like a tentative nudge than the puncturing laceration he’d been exposed to during their first encounter in the forest.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Dagon's paced approach halted the moment he caught a glimpse of the bloodied mess through the window. The Force tugged at his mind from within, or rather specifically from Kai. His eyes widened in shock at the sight. There amidst the bodies he saw a mirror image of himself drowned in blood. He saw Aeric. For a long moment the Jedi simply stared blankly at the scene with fists clenched till the knuckles of his hands were white, then they loosened and with it a heavy breathe of air he wasn't aware of holding.

"What...did I tell you?" his voice was frigid. Agitated eyes were planted on the Lady, "He needs to be taken to Coruscant." There was no room for negotiations in his tone. That bridge had been burned.

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Amelia heard the ice in Dagon’s tone, but her eyes were trained on his blood-spattered Doppelganger behind the glass. The creature mirroring his form was… unexpected, inexplicable even, but it was nothing she couldn’t work with. Perhaps he had absorbed some of Dagon’s Jedi knowledge.

It was true—she had an ulterior motive behind wanting the creature captured. She had never liked the idea of making more Sangnir like herself, though it was within her power. People were much too independent, always wanting to go their own way. But a thing that had no mind of its own—only what she planted in it—with the same sort of powers she possessed, only greater? Now that was a perfect little soldier.

Dagon had always been something of a liability, but now he had outlived his usefulness. It was necessary now to deal with him… but why not have a little fun with him first?

She unclasped her hands from behind her back, letting them hang at her sides, then finally turned to face Dagon. Amber eyes locked with his, holding the Jedi’s frigid glare captive in a hypnotic stare, turning the vamp charisma up to eleven.

“Do you really think the Jedi could help him?” she asked softly, her tone almost hopeful as she took a step toward Dagon. It was a test to see if he would back away or break eye contact—she knew it was very possible for him to resist her lures. He was a Jedi, after all. “Even after what you’ve seen him do?” Another step. “What sort of newborn attacks and kills? Consumes people’s minds? How do you even begin to help such a wretched creature? It seems to me he’s too far gone.”

Her final step brought her directly in front of him, close enough to touch. “What is it you see? A child that needs to be protected?” She glanced back through the window at Kai, again a test. If Dagon was within her grasp, his eyes would follow hers, turning his head to look at what she wanted him to see. “A monster that needs to be locked up or put down? Or… is it something else?”

She met his gaze again. “Dagon,” she began, her tone turning sympathetic. Each word struck like a pounding heartbeat, or the pluck of harp strings. “I understand better than you think. You want to help…” She reached up, cupping his face gently. “But some things can’t be helped. This is one of them.” Her voice lowered to more sultry tones. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me so far… but there’s nothing left for you to do...”

Leaning forward, she ran the tip of her tongue over a knife-sharp canine until it drew blood—then pressed cold lips to his. She didn’t wait before sliding her bloodied tongue into his mouth, seeking to entangle with his own. The blood of a Sangnir, when consumed in small amounts, made addicted thralls out of their prey. In this tiny dosage, it would do little more than keep him quiet for a time. All the time she needed.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Seductive gaze of amber seized him in place, her tone hooking onto his senses. An intrusive tether at first, akin to venom, which then mutated into a welcoming pull inviting every step of hers closer to him. Honey seeped into each next word she uttered planting him motionless in place, only his eyes followed her glance to Kai, then quickly shifted back to her. Dagon found his words obstructed by desire, a desire to remain in one place silent and impatiently awaiting the crescendo.

She uttered his name and he felt heat rise up from his guts to his throat. All Jedi barriers collapsed under the weight of her allure and his own tangled mind. Her hand settled gently on his voice and he burned in yearning for the culmination of her lustful tease. Alarms blaring in his mind turned deaf, captivated by her touch and intimacy. His chest heaved as she came dangerously close and finally pressed her lips against his.

But the warmth never came.

Only cold, ice cold lips and an iron taste seeping into his mouth; the deceptive tether revealed its true nature as it enthralling talons dug deep into his mind. Wild-eyed, Dagon's arms flailed to the sides in futile resistance against the enchantment but ultimately failed as they came limp down his sides. A sanguine veil enveloped his conscious rapidly taking over the reigns of his will. In one last attempt, he called out for help through the only means available - the Force.

Help!

Arlo Renard

 

[Arlo Renard]

Dagon struggled for a few moments, seeming to catch on at the last second, but soon went limp. Amelia’s tongue slithered out of his mouth, lips unlocking, and she waited. His eyes were open, yet unseeing. He was as prone and vulnerable as a baby bird fallen from its nest. Couldn’t even squawk.

She hooked one arm under his shoulder, the other pushing his head to one side and tugging on his collar, baring his neck. Amber eyes traced a vein, a pulse pushing through hot skin. She smiled, knotted her fingers in his hair to hold him steady, and bit him.

It had been a long time since she had fed from a Force User. She had almost forgotten the headiness of it, how intoxicating it was from the very first taste. What her kind called Anima, the substance which used blood as its medium, was exceptionally potent in those sensitive to the Force. She’d have to take her time to absorb it—she couldn’t have all of him inside her at once. Keep him prisoner a while… keep him until there was nothing left…

Her mind unraveled too, thoughts drifting away in a drunken haze, only distantly aware of her surroundings as her focus narrowed down to the warm blood filling her mouth and the weakening body which was the source of it.

***​

Kai had first changed form, then burst through the restraints. “I want to leave now,” he had said, using the borrowed voice of Dagon.

That was when one of the medics had triggered the alarm. Kai did not like that. In a rage, he had attacked them until they all lay strewn like broken dolls on the floor, but the noise had not stopped. He picked up pieces of equipment and threw them, broke things, but still there was no peace. All he did was hurt himself. All he could do was scream for it to stop.

At last, the shrill shrieking ceased with the arrival of the Cold One, who stood somewhere outside the room. Kai couldn’t see her, but he could feel her. She was waiting for something. After what had happened with the medics, he didn’t bother trying to talk to her.

Afraid, he retreated to the corner furthest from her presence and hunkered down. Gnawing at the memories of the unconscious survivors, he learned where he was. The Fortress at the Isle of Atys, one of the Voivode’s many strongholds. It was on an island in the middle of the sea. How to get out? By boat or by aircraft. Or maybe he could swim. But where would he go then? Where was home?

Dagon was coming. Kai raised his head the moment he felt the Jedi, far off in the distance, growing closer. The half-articulate, half-reasoning, half-civilized thoughts running through his head had been ripped from Dagon. Dagon didn’t hate him. Dagon didn’t want to hurt him or use him to hurt others. Dagon wanted to take him away. Good. Kai wanted to go away from here. Kai wanted to be like Dagon. He wanted to be good.

At last, Dagon came. Kai was standing ready for him, as close as he could get, but the wall was an impassable barrier between them. He couldn’t see what was happening on the other side, but he felt it. The Cold One’s hunger and malice. Dagon getting… hot? Then cold. Kai put a hand on the glass, then the other, frightened. Dagon was afraid, calling for help.

Kai seized the call. Wake up! he pleaded, jolting Dagon. Wake up!

But Dagon slipped through his fingers. Kai struck the barrier with his fist, then turned to the Cold One. His fingers curled against the glass as he sank his claws into her, gnashing at her brain, tearing it to ribbons. She was like him. Vampire. Parasite. Give her a taste of her own medicine.

In the hallway outside the medical bay, Amelia lost her grip. Fangs retracted from flesh, leaving behind puncture wounds that oozed blood. She let go of Dagon, stumbling backwards, and reached for the alarm. The thing impaling her mind howled and retreated, but the spell had been broken.

Dagon Kaze​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

There was nothing but darkness. And cold. Frigid cold. Locked within the confines of his mind but with nothing to see, no light at the end of the tunnel. Panic turned to despair turned to somber insanity turned to hopelessness. He both knew and did not who he was. Stranded for eternity in a prison and there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly something began to claw, like talons scrubbing frantically at a stone wall. He raised his head in anticipation, a small flicker of hope in the murk. The wall broke and light blazed inside his cage, the shadows fled, darting across the floor, pulling away from the luminosity growing brighter with each moment. He weakly reached for it.

And he was back.

Frail, bewildered and exhausted with his backside on the floor. Dagon's senses came back to him in a violent rush, the muffled noise became an ear-splitting alarm blaring. The blurred vision slowly cleared way to discern the Lady holding a lever on the wall. She looked almost equally fragile as him, her alluring face and voluptuous form that only moments ago gripped tight his desire - now only a cold reminder of the evil that nearly prevailed. The Jedi's resolve burst through the tired and aching muscles and tendons, he had her right where he wanted her. The Force stirred inside, the connection feeble, but enough to pin and capture her. Only that never happened.

A dozen or so guards flooded into the medbay, their weapons already firing the moment they caught him in their sights. The blue blade materialized in his hands just in time to save him. Their numbers made him step back in retreat. He looked around for a retreat but none was found. The only way was forward.

He took a step forward when the clawing on the windows took his attention - Kai. His identical appearance still made the Jedi uneasy, that issue came later. On Coruscant. A hint of concern ran down his spine at the thought; rare were the cases of Sithspawn being...reverted, but not impossible.

Brushing away the thoughts, Dagon snapped a free hand at the window and with the help of the Force yanked it off its frame releasing Kai from his confines.

"Stay with me." he ordered t he spawn and the Force convulsed in his hand once more, this time the blast was sent at the soldiers ahead dispersing them on the ground and opening the way ahead. "Let's go!" Dagon gave the Lady only a fledgling glance. Her reckoning would come. He just needed to escape and contact the Alliance.

Arlo Renard