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The Spirit is Willing

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
He was numb. Cast into the void. There was nothing here, not sound nor light nor any other thing - simply nothing. He lingered there for eons, time passing with no reference to measure by.
Like a lance thrusting forward into battle a pinprick of consciousness touched his mind. Haste. An all consuming, primal motivation began to take hold - he must survive. He would survive.
As the light came into focus a ringing filled his ears. Sound for the first time heard through new ears. The ringing continued, the sensation of pain gripping the body - his body. Alien. Unfamiliar but whole.
Pain again, this time more visceral - physical pain. Perhaps he was not whole but broken, yet a better alternative than his sure end. It had been a decision made in haste, in desperation. It had paid off in the short term but now he worried towards the future. As the ringing reached its height, his vision was overcome with a bright light - blinding in intensity.
A cough. A gasp. Sieger's eyes opened.

Some time after the events of "The Ghosts of Lothal"...

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As soon as they'd been opened his eyes snapped shut, a muffled grunt of pain issued forth as his faculties attempted to right themselves. It had been almost blissful at first, like the dawn after a night of restorative sleep. Then the pain began to overwhelm him. Sieger in all his power rarely felt the sting of pain now that he was at the top of the food chain. Humbling now. Painfully an intake of breath, a gasp, filled his lungs with air as his eyes cautiously opened again.

Everything felt strange, his body checking in with his mind, his motions clumsy as he fought to pick himself up from the ground. The haze began to clear, clarity of mind slowly returning to him and yet there was something off, something strange about the way he was seeing his surroundings, the sounds an odd tone, his body moving as if he'd never walked before. Frustration, an overwhelming sensation gripped at him, Sieger channeling the power he knew was there just beyond the surface. Rising to a knee, he attempted to get a gauge on his bearings.

At first he couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten here, the remnants of a recent battle scattered across the ground. His eyes were drawn to the right, more bodies. In an instant his eyes locked on to a familiar face, a broken body lay staring aimlessly at the sky - his face. Like a thunderbolt, memories came rushing back, coursing through his mind like a holofilm on fast forward. Information overwhelming cascaded over the man, body shuddering as he fought to maintain control - and then clarity. Unabashed and unfiltered knowledge and understanding.

He had succeeded.

The memory of their fight had been naught but a blur, where his opponent had gone was anyone's guess. Even now the sounds of a battle being waged in the distant echoed gently against his ears. It was unnerving to see his body broken, looking upon it with alien eyes. The essence transfer had been successful but even as he was overcome with elation he felt a sting at his side, a warm and rapidly increasing pain spread across his torso. *The host was wounded.* The realization stung almost as much as the wound itself, strange hands reaching down to his side to appraise the revelation. Exhausted as he was from the endeavor, he wouldn't be able to maintain himself in this host for long - there had been no other choice.

Stumbling clumsily Sieger cast a single wayward glance back at his shattered body before shoving off, footsteps carefully stepping over the fallen and the debris of battle. He needed to escape - given his current state, it was unlikely any of his own would recognize that the body he now possessed contained him. Little more than a wounded Jedi, perhaps not even a knight. The lack of hesitation he had demanded from his followers could very well be his own end. The irony wasn't lost on the Supreme Leader.

He would be able to do a more complete observation of his new host later, but now his priority was escaping in one piece. He made no attempt to find his knights, no attempt to find others, instead his eyes were set on one prize ahead. The tail fin of a shuttlecraft protruded upwards from beyond the small crest of a rise. That was his goal. Clumsily, Sieger made slow progress towards the shuttle. His new body was near crippled with pain, its injury inhibiting. Fear began to seep in at the edges of his mind, pain muddling his senses as a wave of nausea passed over him with every step.

It was a relief as he crested the rise, the immediate area around the shuttle empty, in the fog of war it had been deserted, several bodies strewn across the boarding ramp. It was fate it seemed - today wouldn't be his end.. at least he hoped... Hope. So strange a sensation. Was it just the new host, remnants of the mind he erased in its waning moments? He shook the feeling, dragging himself forward. Painful step after painful step he grew closer and closer until his foot rest on the plating of the ramp. A few more desperate strides and he was in the cockpit.


With a pained grunt, Sieger let his body fall into one of the seats, hands reaching out for the controls. Only a few manipulations later, the engines roared to life. He could feel what strength his host yet maintained fading - there was only one more task which required doing - one that was crucial. Uncertainty and doubt clouded his mind, an attempt at summoning him back to the chaos perhaps, but for now he held it at bay. Fingers carefully set forth a destination, another few strikes transmitted a code - a simple one - to Sieger's most trusted. To them it would make sense, to all others it would seem little more than garbled text.

Even as his fingers keyed in the transmit button, he could barely hold off the encroaching shadows at the edge of his vision. With the secret message sent and the coordinates entered, the shuttle rose before blasting off into the sky. Sieger hadn't even made it to the atmosphere before the veil consumed him - consciousness fading into the void.


[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
Oh Garnik had kept tabs on Sieger alright. She’d known he was on Lothal but did not expect to poignantly feel his near-severing from the Force. It disturbed her so much that she sent out the most trusted members of the Bando Gora to search for him based on a smattering of coordinates. And they found him, his ship floating like space debris, the man inside of it unconscious. The Umbaran Priestess had not received the coordinates directly as she was not one of his most trusted. Not for many years at least.

When Sieger Ren awoke, finally lucid and in a completely different body, he would find himself in a medbay, in a bed, but only kept alive with the most basic of treatments - an IV drip for fluids and the occasional sedative to allow him to sleep.

Wearing a lavish shadowcloak, woven with accents of gold and silver silk, Garnik paced around his bed, assessing his new form. Too bad his body is gone, she mused. I always quite liked his sharp, distinguished features, the gaunt pale skin, his unwavering steel irises. With a wistful sigh she thought that at one time, perhaps through their first two years of marriage, Garnik had really loved Edric. But no more. Time had turned her heart into a stone golem, obeying her every whim, and the new figure he embodied, a feeble Jedi desperately claimed on the battlefield, left something to be desired.

If he glanced out of the small window in the medical facility, Sieger might be able to make out the abundance of smuggler, mercenary and trade vessels which made up the crowded skies of Terminus.

“It seems he’s waking," reported a surgical droid. “What treatment do you recommend?”

“Nothing for now. I prefer he not only feel the pain, but see it standing before him with his own eyes.”

[member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"]
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
A quiet whistle wandered through the trees as the wood came into view. Sieger's first waking sight that of a copse, the forest beyond shrouded in a darkened veil. He alone stood at its center, dim light filtering through the canopy above. As the man tried to look to his left and to his right he discovered his view was fixed, eyes locked ahead. Materializing before him, a hooded figure stood. Black robes tattered, shifting in the gentle breeze. A sneer spreading across Sieger's lips was rapidly turned into an expression of surprise - fear even. Powerless to move, powerless to swat the gnat which stood before him. With a gust of wind the figure's face was born.
Darkness. Raw. Powerful.
The most striking feature of his face: Two crimson orbs wreathed in a veil of flame.
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Hot. He felt hot. A shiver went down his spine, fever gripping the man even in his near-dead state. His body had already gone to work, attempting to fight the damage, to fight back infection. Infection was undoubtedly what it was. The fever, the ache - with a gasp, Sieger's eyes fluttered open. The vibrant white of the ceiling above blotted out any lingering thoughts of the dream he'd been having. It had been a dream hadn't it? Even as he tried to look around the room the vision was fading quickly into nothing more than smoke, the memory of it dissipating. His surroundings were unfamiliar, certainly not a First Order facility by appearances. Gingerly he rolled his neck to his right, the view leaving much to be desired. No familiar buildings, instead replaced with unfamiliar ships and towers. No, this was somewhere else.

A voice. There was a voice speaking through the fog as he struggled to fully embrace the consciousness coming upon him. Addled and weary mind fought to put a name to it, a face to it, but as he slowly turned his head a wave of recognition washed over him. In that moment he was both relieved and afraid. Slowly he inhaled, the breath painful as his lungs filled with oxygen. Already Sieger struggled to put forth words, to address the woman standing there but each time he felt the words begin to form they were lost - for once in his life, Sieger was truly speechless.

He let the silence stand for a moment, fighting back the pain he felt, the unfamiliar sensations running through the foreign body he now occupied. At first he was unsure if she recognized who she had but the look within her eye told him all he needed to know. The recognition etched into and burning behind the woman's lavender irises. Moments passed, Sieger content to rest in silence, the burning sensation across his body consuming the majority of his energy. Eventually, he forced himself up into a seated position, gasps issuing from his lips as he fought against the nausea that gripped at his stomach.

"So, you haven't killed me yet?"
The tenor of his voice sounded strange. Odd to hear one's own words spit forth in a different voice, the way the vowels sounded, the consonants... It was disorienting. A cough sent Sieger's borrowed body into a fit of them, blood spittle covering the man's hand as he rose it to cover his mouth.


[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="The Major"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
Brows furrowed over his suffering, but in a thoroughly casual way as though she’d received some mildly disquieting news, like one had been charged an incorrect amount of credits on a purchase, not that her husband before her was inhabiting a barely-breathing corpse that did not belong to him.

“Must be nice having a new body while the rest of us are stuck in the old one.”

Garnik turned her head in disgust at the spray of red from her once-lover’s mouth, scarlet drops staining the clinically white bed sheets.

“And why should I kill you when you appear to be doing a perfectly good job of that yourself?” Finally a smile graced her features, the hint of the delicate manners the Umbaran Priestess had been raised to display. The Rootai noblewoman could heal or harm with a touch of her fingertips, but she would never do so without a strand of platinum hair out of place. Yet her pale-grey irises showed only pity. And disappointment, a very familiar mask that she’d worn often throughout their past.

“I’ve been following along, but how you got yourself into this predicament, I will not understand. Was it hubris that drove the weakness? It usually is..."

Garnik exhaled a weary sigh. She enjoyed a good philosophical debate but mostly when the other person wasn’t in such a precarious state of health.

The Umbaran placed a palm in the air - not directly on Sieger, he was far too ill to touch - feeling his fever from where she stood. As the droid tinkered with a vital signs monitor, the familiar figure brought over a small beaker with what appeared to glowing green mist, the water of life, a spirit ichor of the Nightsisters. “I’d proposed to let you suffer a little more, but now my curiosity is piqued on how you fell so far.” How he was able to keep his power for so many years, despite his inclination for scholarly reclusiveness rather than vulgar displays of superiority had been quite a mystery to the Umbaran, and one she would like to unravel. Especially in light of her own ambition.

A hand the color of a bleached bone offered him the beaker.

“Drink this.”

[member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="The Major"]
 
A New Beginning
Character
Ilya Cardonne sat, legs crossed, in the centre of the bare room. She sat in a circle with 16 others. The remains of the Auxiliary guard she'd commanded on Lothal. Each sat with a candle in front of them, the wax sticks casting flickering shadows across the walls. They sat with their heads bent, each gazing to a faraway point ahead. Each, except Ilya herself, wore a simple mask of bronze, covering their face. They sat still, silent, impassive.

The Bando Gora. Ilya had heard the call, and she had answered.

There was the slightest stiffening in the shoulders of one of her playthings as the shadows one the wall began to do more than merely flicker. Slowly, at first for only a blink they would form dark figures, sneering faces, grasping limbs. As her followers sat, almost paralysed the shadows dashed back and forth around them, jittering and dancing manically until in a blink later they were gone, once again simply the flickering of their shadows in the candlelight. Ilya laughed softly to herself and began to speak. To the unfortunate souls, her voice took on layers, like light through a prism tens of voices spoke at once, some little more than animal hisses and croaks.

"I have given you a gift. You may not understand it yet. You may never appreciate its true value. You are being changed. Reformed in my image. You may resist, try to present my influence, but I assure you that my power over your mind is stronger than you could possibly imagine."

A trickle of dark fluid, like liquid shadow, ran from the woman's eyes, cutting dark channels into her cheeks.

"Fear will be your sustenance. For as long as you remain alive you will be gripped by a terror so profound you will be without sleep for days on end. Fear of me, fear of what I can do to you, that will change you, reform you. Just as surely as you have come to fear me, you will come to worship me."

For many in the group, it had already begun. Their eyes were sunken pits in gaunt faces. Their lips were colourless slugs sat on stone flesh. Rings, dark enough to almost be black, lined their eyes. Only the gods knew what horrors they saw when they closed their eyes.

"Now, feel my power."

A fresh wave of tension hit the group as the woman unleashed her full influence. The outpouring of dark essence continued and escalated, as small rivulets turned into a veritable flood of liquid darkness that rushed with terrible speed down the woman's face, flowing over the floor like smoke. In a flash Ilya was lost in the abyss as the flood extinguished the candles, and the wavefront engulfed the group, forcing itself into eyes, ears, noses. Drowning out everything but its own cloying scent and ice-cold touch.

Then, like surfacing from a dive, they were back in the room. The candles burned softly, and Ilya sat serenely in her place in the circle, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

She smiled.
 

Samka Derith

Decitus Ren
Character
The sweet elation of victory had been short lived.

So caught up was she in her lust for death, power and discovery that she had forsaken her foremost duty. The protection of her Supreme Leader.

He had fallen on the battlefield of Lothal and she had barely noticed amidst her bloodlust. No amount of Jedi dead, no amount of knowledge gained could compensate for the loss of [member="Sieger Ren"]. He was more than the father of their nation, he was the heart which sustained it all.

Grief and anger had taken control of the girl who had held such pride in her ability to control and hide her emotions. It had begun as self-loathing and pity at her apparent failure but the blame shifted elsewhere. To the Praetorian Guards who were nowhere to be found, the Ren who had been in close proximity to the fighting and finally, to Sieger himself.

She had revered him as almost a god. But he had been but a mortal all along.

How disappointing.

And what would lay next? There was no contingency because the Supreme Leader was thought to be undying. Would another of the Ren council assume command? Perhaps even herself? Or would one among the First Order claim the title? A bureaucratic Moff or strong-man among the military. They were unlikely to get her loyalty, let alone her devotion.

But just when hope seemed lost, a code reached her personal holo. It was meaningless to most but not to her. It meant he was alive.

And he was immortal after all.

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The guards stood in her way but they did not stand for long. An overwhelming aura of Darkness had them fall to their knees in submission, their free will drained utterly until the only thing they could comprehend was servitude.

They'd recover if she willed it.

Whoever these people were, Samka had not had the pleasure of their acquaintance so she didn't know if they were friend or foe. Allies of the Supreme Leader or holding him hostage. If he was their prisoner, she didn't have the time to play around in diplomacy, she needed to recover him immediately. All else, including her own life, were secondary considerations. If they were, in fact, friends... the misunderstanding could be smoothed over later.

The small Ren set foot into the Terminus facility, her cloak flowing behind her despite the absence of wind. It was all a mark of power and show from the woman who knew how much appearances mattered.

A burst of Dark Energy pulsed from her. Cold, invisible tendrils branched throughout the facility to latch onto every living thing. The shiver and dominating presence forced into their minds would have a clear message for Sieger. His most loyal servants had found him. Equally clear was the message to everyone else.

Submit or be destroyed.​
[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"]​
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
The pain was overwhelming. A burning sensation consumed his lungs as he fought to take in a breath between his fits of coughing. Fitting, that he should come so far only to meet his end at her hand. A sneer of dismissal contorted the features of Sieger's host - a familiar and yet foreign expression displayed there. Feebly he turned his head, wiping the blood from his lips with the shoulder of his clothing. How had it come to this? Even as Garnik's words echoed in his ear the thought bounced around in his mind - was it hubris afterall?

Grinding his teeth momentarily, Sieger knew she was trying to get under her skin. Oh how he imagined she was enjoying herself, the subtle air she carried herself with. She may not have been laughing outwardly but he knew beneath the pale veneer she found joy in his demise, evidence dancing behind her washed out eyes. Try as he might, Sieger's couldn't find the words he wanted to say. Whether in part to his exhaustion or the state of his new vessel the man couldn't guess. Knowing Garnik it could even have been something she gave him to keep him docile. His thoughts were interrupted at the offering of a beaker, liquid inside. A skeptical eye bore into the woman holding it, voice raspy.


"What is that?"
Sieger didn't exactly expect an answer, Garnik would reveal what she wanted to when she wanted to. Such had always been her way. Hesitantly grasping the beaker he brought it to his lips. If the woman had wanted to end him, wouldn't she have already? It wouldn't have taken much given the his current state. As if washing down residual misgivings, Sieger emptied the beaker to the last drop. With a strangled cough Sieger forced the liquid down, eyes watering as he did so. The smell alone was putrid, the taste no better. For a fleeting moment he wasn't sure if it was going to stay down. Clenching his jaw, Sieger reached for a cup of what appeared to be water on a small table beside him, chasing the horrendous liquid down and trying to rid himself of its flavor. Leaning back against the raised bed he lay in silence, content to breathe. Slowly he felt a warm fuzzy feeling begin to permeate his being, fingers, toes, arms and legs. Whatever the liquid had been, it was beginning to do its work. There was little more for him to do in the moment but wait.
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Though little time had passed he looked around the room in amazement, bewildered at the potion's effects. Sieger had always known of the power of witches but to witness and bear truth to this? It was a step farther. Slowly he flexed the fingers of his right hand, then his left. He felt better by a great margin but deep within he could still feel something, something not fully well. In the moment however, it mattered little. With a deep breath he moved his feet, testing the control of his new body - sluggishly they moved with him. Had something gone wrong during the essence transfer? Was there something wrong with the host body? His concerns were interrupted with a violent churn of the Force from nearby. *I know that presence...*

Familiar, and yet foreign, Sieger called upon his memory. Flashes and bits of his host's life mixed with his own memories. Disorienting him momentarily before he landed on the tidbit he was looking for. *Decitus. She is here?* Vaguely he recalled the moments just before losing consciousness. Yes, he had transmitted the message to a select few - it appeared his own were more industrious than he'd believed. Reassuring in a way, also concerning. If his own Knights had come knocking... he had no idea what Garnik was going to do when presented with their arrival.


[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
Garnik felt Samka enter, not heeding the glance of a Bando Gora guard who’d come to report that an interloper had entered the facility. She merely waved him away. She’d not kept Sieger contained in the hospital bed out of spite - well maybe a little - but her true intentions were to save him, to preserve him.

But there would not be comfort nor indulgence here. Unlike their home so long ago that the Umbaran had furnished with the finest Ottegan silk, countertops of Zeka quartz and anything else that would make a powerful man feel at home - a hearth, a huge library, a cavernous basement for training and whatever other fanciful activities one could imagine.

“There is a friend who is coming to pay you a visit,” remarked Garnik. “Or is she a caretaker? A lover? Where was she on the battlefield protecting you?”

Her words were steeped in animosity and accusation, but her pale face was as placid as a crystal-white moon.

The dark energy from the newcomer? Garnik soaked it in, glancing out of the window distractedly as she did, so Sieger Ren did not see how it affected her. All she could glean from the strong Force User was an abundance of youth. Something both of them lacked right now.

After ingesting the water of life, his skin seemed less sallow, cheeks less thin. Her job was not done, but so far, off to a good start. Perhaps they would be on a more even playing field once he fully revived in his foreign body.

[member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"]
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Sieger paused there. Weakness was still there, he could feel it lurking within though whether a product of the body or the mind he could not discern. He sat there silently for a few seconds more, gathering his composure. It was hard enough admitting that he had been grievously wounded but for his subordinates to see how truly weak he was... would their loyalty be shaken? There was no doubt his aura was still strong, but the appearance of power and the actual holding of it were two very different things.

Garnik's voice drew him from his concern, eyes cautiously studying her pale complexion in an attempt to read her. It was a futile endeavor and yet he couldn't keep himself from trying.

“There is a friend who is coming to pay you a visit,” remarked Garnik. “Or is she a caretaker? A lover? Where was she on the battlefield protecting you?”
Her words were laced with hidden meaning, a subtle vehemence contained behind a porcelain veneer of civility. Sieger knew the storm that raged beneath, the monster that lived deep within the woman - arguably it was a quality they shared. No doubt a factor in what had drawn the two together at the start. As the familiar presence hastened ever closer, Sieger watched while Garnik stepped across the room. There she stood, framed within the light of the window. For a moment in time a flicker of their past made him wonder... *No.* He had not ascended to power by thoughts of the past, of what might have been. Sieger had moved forward, upward, and he would not allow himself to fall back into obscurity - at least not without a purpose.

Everything, everyone had a purpose - inherent ability that could serve his needs and his desires. Each a tool to be used, each a weapon to be held. Narrowing his eyes he sneered. The tone in her voice grated on him, the subtle accusation of something so frivolous bringing a flush of red to his ears. All these years and she still knew how to get a rise of him. Had he any less self control he might have spit. Instead he responded evenly if not with a twinge of tension.

"You know as well as I what discord that kind of behavior would cause."
Another accusation spat in return, though less refined or practiced than the Umbaran's. Looking back to the door as he heard a shuffle, he prepared to come face to face with the woman he knew as Decitus, she would have questions. He needed to have answers.

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]
 

Samka Derith

Decitus Ren
Character
The door to the medbay shattered as a large muscular figure fell through, slamming to the ground among minor metallic debris. The Bando guard who had attempted to prohibit her entry rested on the verge of unconsciousness. The figure which followed contrasted with the large man, a petite girl hopping over his body.

"Pardon me," Samka hissed softly, her dry humour in tact but any of the joy she took in it replaced with rage. If her body itself wasn't intimidating, the menace in her voice and the fury burning in her crimson eyes would more than make up for it. Following her was an aura of death. Gone was the usual subtle cold and creep which accompanied the young Ren and in its stead was clear, overwhelming, passionate power. It demanded that all who felt it yield to her without a word needed by her lips.

Her eyes hurriedly passed over the room looking for the man she knew, [member="Sieger Ren"], the man she'd been devoted to since early adolescence. Yet all she found was a sickly man in a hospital bed.

And a witch.

Her gaze passed from one figure to the other, her sharp mind piecing things together. The Supreme Leader was here, she knew it, she felt it. Yet he was muted. The only explanation was that the crippled man on the bed was him. If she focused, Samka could feel traces of the familiar power held by Sieger. Yet it was muted, weak. For the first time, she felt more powerful than him.

The ambition and brutality inherit in the Dark Side made forbidden, heretical thoughts cross her mind. The natural ending when a student surpasses a master. Everything he controlled could be hers. But it passed as quickly as it came. Murderous aspirations tamed by loyalty and over a decade of intense brainwashing.

This was the part where she bowed, where she showed her allegiance remained to him and yet her legs would not move. Too shocked was she at the pitiful sight before her.

Her mouth rested slightly ajar for a moment before she spoke. Her voice low, barely above a whisper.

"What happened? What is... this?"


[member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"]​
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
xD35NKR.png

The sudden expulsion of the body through the now shattered door caught Sieger by surprise despite his slight forewarning. Heftily the man who he could only assume had been guarding his room fell across the floor - where he lay, likely unconscious. It wasn't only the rapid change of environment which caused a nervous intake of breath but also the trim figure of the woman who now stood over him, clearly more powerful than her stature would imply. With features etched in stone Sieger watched silently from his place on the bed, silent as the woman he knew as Decitus slowly panned the room. No one seemed to make a move, the remaining guards nervously glancing towards Garnik as if waiting for instructions, their hands warily hovering over their weapons.

As the Ren's eyes passed over him the first time he felt a wave of... fear? It was the first time that he had come face to face with one of his own who could probably erase him from existence. It was one thing to be face to face with a subordinate, but with the amount of power she now held, with the amount of power he had been robbed by exhaustion... Perhaps it would be better to kill her now, erase all possibility of winding up with a saber in his gut. Power was toxic, corrupt, it was evident in both politics and in those who claimed hold over the Dark Side. In its own way, the Dark Side claimed hold over them, bodies changing as their strength grew. The fear he felt in that moment was a new sensation, one he couldn't put words to. One he was becoming altogether too familiar with over the last.. *How long have I been here?* The thought was intrusive, overpowering his current train of thought. It seemed he had less motor control over his new host, and likewise mentally. Perhaps it was the wounds, drawing valuable energy from his body - who knew. What he did know was what was unfolding. No use getting lost in his own thoughts when the moment at hand was a critical one.

The confusion he noted in the young woman's features he recognized. Strange as it was to her to feel the presence of her Lord, so also was it strange for Sieger to look upon her with a new set of eyes. A new face. A new body. *And so weak...* a quiet voice whispered in the recesses of his mind. Before any of them could say more, Sieger raised his voice, words almost foreign as they spilled from his tongue.

"There is much to tell.. Decitus."
The words took more of his energy than he'd have liked despite the concoction provided to him by Garnik. There was something else, something wrong with his new body - what exactly proved elusive.

"I.." He tried to find words for it.
Pausing for another moment he pressed his lips together, deep breaths filling his lungs. Instead of more words, he closed his eyes. Images, memories of the past came into view of his mind's eye then slowly began to project towards Decitus. Slowly at first, basic building blocks of the events. She would see herself before the battle, frames of moments leading up to their assault. She would see the face of the Jedi ([member="Kahne Porte"]), locked in battle as the clash of sabers filled her ears. And then? Hot searing pain, the shock of paralysis and the onslaught of fear - and then nothing. A calm before the violence that had been the transfer of his essence, a turbulent dark storm of energy akin to a hurricane ripping and shredding through his mind and the mind of the wounded Jedi whom he had come to inhabit.

The story was incomplete, fragmented, but so was his memory of the ordeal. Even so, he had passed on the important bits. As for Garnik... he was yet unsure how he would explain that one, and so instead he merely opened his eyes. He would wait and see how this strange situation would unfold.


[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
As far away from her life partner as she felt right now - him so weak and dependent - she began to feel more in control. Is it bad that I am enjoying this so, Garnik asked herself? Or is it worse that as an Umbaran I even question the emotional stew that’s going on in my head? Or in his?

The white-haired woman gave a nod of approval when Sieger rallied, swinging his legs off the side of the bed and sitting upright. He’d always embodied strength to her, yet inside, the dark witch had been so jealous of it. She cursed her father for throwing them together so long ago with not even an ember of romance or meaning other than to consolidate power. Yet, that ember had grown into a cold fire which neither of them had been able to control.

With a musical laugh, Garnik played coy. “What kind of behavior is that?”

The Bando Guard thudded to the floor and over him stepped a wisp of a woman.

How interesting.

With the welcoming smile of a patient predator, the Umbaran said to Samka, “This is your Lord and Master in extremely dire straights. But I sense a strength in you that could easily overpower him.”

She watched like a clinical scientist with near-reptilian eyes. “See, he can barely speak the words.”

A glance at Sieger. How she was enjoying this. But her pleasure must come to an end. Either that or his life.

“Can we pool our strength together to revive him?” the Umbaran said, lacing her fingertips and placing them at her belly, an ecclesiastical motion to offer her peace to the younger woman, attempting to mask her intimidation with the most perfect manners.

[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Ara Zambrano"] [member="The Major"] [member="Ilya Cardonne"]
 

Samka Derith

Decitus Ren
Character
It was the witch who spoke first.

“This is your Lord and Master in extremely dire straights. But I sense a strength in you that could easily overpower him.”

Samka's gaze flickered to her, regarding the woman in a mix of curiosity and disgust. "Or you," she added softly, a small warning for the woman. If this were a test, she would show her loyalty remained in tact despite the challenges. Her stance shifted somewhat, moving to stand between this woman and the figure on the bed who was supposedly the man she had worshipped. It was not confrontational but put her at position ready to protect him should the need arise.

The Supreme Leader was weak. He struggled with his own words. It was a pathetic sight. Her fist tightened in irritation, that after all this, all that she had been told from the onset of her puberty, he could end up like this. It was impossible and yet it was the reality before her.

Her mind filled with visions. He'd done this before, it was the Supreme Leader's method of communication with his far-off followers but it was so much weaker, so muted. When before it had been accompanied with a torrent of Dark Power, now it felt utterly empty beyond the images she received. The broken, almost non-colloquial images. They told her enough to piece things together.

She gave a soft sigh of disappointment, the final evidence that it was true. There was no doubt that this man was Sieger Ren. As quickly as her disappointment came, it gave way to a flash of anger as the witch spoke again.

He was weak. He was decrepit. But he was the Supreme Leader and the pleasure she took from his suffering was intolerable. "Hold your vile tongue," The Ren snarled, the Dark Side flaring around her, enclosing itself around the woman's throat. It would not feel as though she were being choked, rather more like she was being drowned.

"We do as he commands," Samka's crimson eyes fell once more upon Sieger, amongst all the anger they held a silent plea for instructions, "Only what he commands."

[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"]​
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
The Umbaran’s sunken eyes blazed angrily for a second and then her expression became calm, the cadence of her words slow and deliberate.

“But he’s not my Lord and Master. Are you, Edric?”

The young Ren stood between the two, recalling for Garnik a memory, one of herself as a child, darting in between Alvis and Eev during one of their more violent encounters, begging for them to cease their fighting. And sadly the conflict finally did after Alvis had murdered her mother.

Her sharp eyes sliced into Samka again at her warning, until… her lips were rendered useless to speech. Another expression passed over her pale face, one of complete unease at not being in control.

Sieger had always controlled their marriage until Garnik disappeared. In the Bando Gora, her power was rarely challenged. But spice and manipulation had made it too easy to keep those men and women under her bony thumb.

“I-I…,” Cough, cough, hacking cough. “I agree.” The Umbaran woman struggled to speak but barreled through the clogged feeling in her throat, hedging her bets that the loyal Ren-child would ease up on her attack to let her speak. “It’s a pity he’s in such a feeble, unrecognizable body. I'd grown fond of the old one." And then in a raspy murmur, steadying herself upon the corner of his sterile bed, lavender irises locked upon Samka, she said, “Save your strength for him, girl. If we distract ourselves with our petty grievances, it will only reduce the amount of power needed to heal your Master.”

[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Ilya Cardonne"]
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
xD35NKR.png
His mortality yet remained painfully in his mind's eye as Sieger watched, fighting back the bile which threatened to rise from his stomach. Turmoil. Fear. Instability. He could feel it in himself as much as the Force around them all. It gripped at his very being, threatening to pull free the last hanging thread of sanity he held onto. He could feel it as the words left the witch's mouth, as their gaze fell upon his disheveled form. A measure of faith and hope restored as the vehement declaration was aired by his most loyal, Decitus. The subtle tide of swelling bile receded, his eyes threatening to water as he gathered up his strength.

"Only what he commands."
Her gaze was piercing, and though the invisible pressure was slowly closing in around Garnik's throat, he imagined the woman carried just as much anger at himself. With a shaky hand, Sieger waved off the Master, bid her cease for but a moment. He couldn't let this go on. There were more important things at stake, things that because of his present state had been set in motion. It was beyond recovering now, the only true course to strike ahead.

Even as he meant to give voice in response to his own, Garnik's voice scratched forth in an almost arrogant challenge of his power, one he knew he could not hope to meet head on in the moment.

"But he's not my Lord and Master. Are you, Edric?"
Biting. A visible flinch at the use of his long unspoken name. More than a hint of bitterness was hidden behind the gentle tones of the woman's voice. A moment passed, Sieger's practiced eye knowing his estranged had been cast into one of her memories, even if for a second. Too often he had seen that look before the woman had deserted him - before he had deserted her? He couldn't recall, so long ago had the two's paths departed from the same course. Sieger's voice cut through the tension in the room, the weariness evident.

"This body is beyond healing - nor can it contain my essence such as it is." Though his words seemed strange, the truth of his statement was evident. "I require a new host, one not bound by the mortality of the flesh, one sufficient for my needs. Is that too much to require? Does my appearance of weakness cast such a doubt as to my power?"
As his words continued, his voice rose, eyes flaring with a violent light. Every edge of every word driven with a renewed vigor, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he forced himself to stand. With the same disdain his own estranged spouse's words had been issued, his own echoed in amplified state.

"Your insolence is more befitting of a harlot, I expected better of you Garnik. All this time and yet you play with words as if a child. As for you Decitus..." He paused, a flicker of uncertainty hidden behind his eyes. "...Your loyalty is admirable."
The flare of his temper subsiding, he steadied himself against the edge of the bed once more. Again, impressing upon them both what he would require. Perhaps strange to Garnik, his lack of description. Strength. Agility. Predatory. All qualities he sought in a new host, but no mention of species. To the Ren, this might have seemed less odd - Sieger had been one to reward based on merit, perhaps his selection of a host was similarly judged.
[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Ilya Cardonne"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="The Major"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
Like a fading shadow from a lowering sun, a slight sneer flickered along Garnik’s lips.

The Umbaran did not enjoy coming in second in this race of Sieger’s favorites, but perhaps she’d forfeited her role when she’d run from him. This young one… she gave him strength. And that realization was more caustic upon her tongue than any ichor she could conjure from the roots and herbs of the Dathomir wilds.

So she held it for the time being and listened to her once-mate. A swell of admiration rolled through Garnik at the fact that he could stand upright in such a feeble and insignificant form.

Still coughing and sputtering, she said, “You’re right. That body won’t last you a day.” Her pale hand hovered around her throat still, feeling Decitus’s touch lingering.

“Where do you suppose we find this fleshly home? If we travel to Dathomir, we could visit the Font, and I could further enhance your new prison. Make it more comfortable for both of us.”

This was the Umbaran Priestess’s only hint at wanting a reconciliation, though anything was possible in what Garnik actually desired of Sieger Ren.

[member="Samka Derith"] [member="Sieger Ren"]
 

Samka Derith

Decitus Ren
Character
"I require a new host, one not bound by the mortality of the flesh, one sufficient for my needs. Is that too much to require? Does my appearance of weakness cast such a doubt as to my power?"

"Nothing is too much," Samka responded as fast as humanly possible. "What you will shall be done. Just give me a target."

She watched him rise. She watched him stand and listened to him compliment her at the expense of the woman beside them. Pride welled up inside of her. No matter how weak he may be right now, the praise of Sieger Ren was a greater high than any drug could ever be.

Not that Samka had gone anywhere near that underworld, criminal trash.

A thought filled her mind, much like before. Wordless, perhaps even powerless, but visions, senses. The seeking for something strong. It was gone again in a flash. Samka's crimson eyes locked with the figure beside the bed and the Ren gave a determined nod. The Supreme Leader was not so picky to have a target in mind. Nor even a species. All that mattered was power.

A small smirk crossed the Ren's features for the first time since Lothal. She had purpose again and it was more important than ever.

A deep curtsy was given to the Supreme Leader, "as you wish," and the young woman turned to leave, satisfied that the Supreme Leader was relatively safe - he'd not asked for rescue after all.

Yet she paused before taking even a single step. Samka looked at the other woman, this Garnik, truly looked for the first time this day. Sieger had taken her full attention, only now did her curiosity extend to others. This pale woman and her familiarity with her leader were disconcerting. She didn't seem to be a threat for the time being but neither was she a friendly face.

She offered more ceremonies all the way in Dathomir. Samka's tongue clicked in disapproval of the thought of taking their weakened Supreme Leader on such a long journey into Mandalorian space. "Who are you?" Her brow frowned at Garnik. "What is he to you?"

[member="Garnik Verita"] | [member="Sieger Ren"]​
 

Progflaw99

I'm just F'n with you!
Writer
xD35NKR.png
*The Font.* It had been a long long time since Sieger had been there, since he'd stepped foot on Dathomir. Perhaps once he had assumed his new host a visit would make sense. *A christening of sorts* he thought. That was too far forward thinking. Dathomir was but a speck on the horizon, what he needed now was a new host. Each day it took searching for the perfect one was time he would need to spend recouping his power, his strength. Each wasted day would be another step towards failure should his host be strong, per his own desire.

It was a tedious game he played now, caught between two worlds - That of the First Order, his Order of Ren and the web of the past. *What silken traps has she laid now, what subtle heresies lie still within her heart?* Sieger wondered as his gaze momentarily fell upon the Umbaran.


"Perhaps Garnik has an archive.. I feel the pull of something far greater, something powerful. Together we might find it."
Though he spoke to no one of his struggles, dreams had plagued the Supreme Leader for weeks. Snippets of primal rage, the desire to hunt, jungles riddled with dangerous beasts. In the end it always came back to the same place, Sieger on his back, a hideous creature standing above him - and then he'd awaken. A cold sweat gripped him every time. Smaller shorter flashes would reveal stars in the sky, patterns drawn out through the canopy of heavy foliage, if Sieger could somehow find this world, he could overcome this creature... he could consume this creature and steal its power for himself. *To be strong again, to be whole again.* The desire was there, but was his strength enough to see it through?

As Decitus phrased her question he remained silent, a twinge of morbid curiosity raising his eyebrow. *What will she say? What am I to her?*
[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Garnik Verita"]
 

Garnik Verita

High Priestess
Character
Oh but Garnik was selective about what body Sieger inhabited and why shouldn’t she be? They were technically still married. Though it had been years since she’d considered reconciliation, standing next to her husband had brought the past to the surface, and now it was time to decide if there was any remnant between them that wasn’t burnt, decayed or deformed beyond recognition.

“Haven’t you guessed by now?” she asked the young girl Sieger Ren praised as though she were his own daughter. And perhaps she was from another mistress, a thought which caused a flare of jealousy to well up from her belly.

“He is my husband.”

Not was. Is.

Completely blind to his desires to hunt, to overcome his new form as though he needed to prove himself to his corporeal form in order to inhabit it, she continued. “And I would appreciate a say in all of this.” Garnik glared at Decitus, an easy target for her rising ire. “Why don’t we find a similar host to your last one? I have some candidates in mind. Perhaps Umbaran even?”

The Priestess trailed off and quickly added, “Of course, you do have the final choice, ,Sieger. And yes, my archive likely yields enough magick to make the transfer.”

Who am I joking, the pale alien thought? She’d never really wielded the power in their relationship. She’d only wedged the dagger between Sieger’s shoulder blades again and again. But maybe he'd listen to her recommendation in a small step towards compromise.

[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Samka Derith"]​
 
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