Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Time passes between lives

As Krest moved up to the front while we were in motion, He questioned about the five minute drive, Smiling I turned to him, even while we drove, I didn't have to look all that much,

"It gets busy about this time. Everybody is getting out to the clubs after work."

Reasonable, as when I had turned around after finishing the sentence, I slowed it down. And then turned off to the right. Following a narrow alley all the way down and turning to the left. It was a small short cut to another street that would lead up above the current streets. However to get up here, you needed to pay the toll, or have a special card.

I had one. Since the card that the head desk clerk gave me also worked for the doors. Zeke's way of making it easier if I needed to have a mad dash out of town. Slowing down, I came to a little booth with bars everywhere. Prohibiting the continuation of movement. After swiping the card, the bars opened to reveal a rather empty road.

"it's a little longer in length and time wise, however, it goes over everybody so you don't have to deal with too much traffic."

[member="Krest"]
 
Krest was very, very silent during the initial ride. He hates speeders to an extreme sense. But he would bear with it for the time being, or at least until they made it to the doorway. Casting a glance to [member="Nickolas Imura"] , he'd scoff. Take a bit longer? They were already going faster then he had expected. But, the man beside him was starting to stir. "I suggest we make it faster."
 
I smiled as he scoffed at me. Still thinking that this was not the best way to go. I smiled a little as I heard him say to speed up. While I was already going fast in fourth gear, I had to get up to fifth. However, I really didn't feel like ruining my engines up. Nonetheless, I hit the gas, letting it hit the floor and shifted gears to reach the max allowed.

Pulling out from a glove compartment, I grabbed a splinter pistol The darts having the Smarttranq instead of a poison, I laid the barrel about four inches from his arm, and pulled the trigger. Sending the dart into his arm. In a few seconds he would be sedated again. Putting the pistol back up, I closed the glovebox and smiled for a second at Krest before turning back to the road.

"You're welcome."

[member="Krest"]
 
Krest rolled his eyes a bit. "I could of zapped him, but it probably would of zapped you too eh?" Not a good idea to zap the driver. Glancing off, he'd find that watching the side of the road speed by was a terrible idea. A bit queasy, he would turn hid gaze downwards, impatient to get off the speeder itself.
 
Shaking my head at the comment of zapping me, I left it at that. Determined to keep on moving as fast as I could. Out of the side of my eye, I could see that Krest was acting weird. Holding himself close. if I knew any better, I would have thought he came from an insane asylum. Still, I just chuckled. Driving along, getting us there. It would only be about a minute or two more.

Still laughing at it a little, How this great big bad killer and Master of the force, got queasy on a speeder.

[member="Krest"]
 
Everyone had their weaknesses, and unfortunately for Krest, speeders were one of them. He was a fast person through the force, his body trained to be quick. But the speeder was going faster than he could, and it just didn't feel natural to him. Leaning back in the seat, he would shut his eyes, just waiting for the ride to be over.
 
It was driving like this only for a few minutes when I was slowing down. Bringing it down to third gear, I still seemed to zoom around other speeders as I finally slowed to a stop, and turned into a Starport bay. A man stopped me, but after handing him my entrance card, I was allowed in. The large door opened and I smiled as the finished product of the Angel, now under a different name, was sitting before us.

"This is a beauty of a ship. I have an Alchemy lab that I have been wanting to use, but never had the time, nor the technical know how."

Pulling up the ramp with the speeder, men dressed like Scouts, Mercenaries, Bounty Hunters, and scoundrels were all working on the ship, in it, or around it. Each doing a job of keeping it well kept.

"Shall we?"

[member="Krest"],
 
Krest, on the stop, literally jumped from the speeder with his bounty in tow as quick as he possibly could. Landing on his feet, he let out a sigh of relief. He was back on solid ground. Hoisting his unconscious bounty onto his shoulder, he'd turn a glance to [member="Nickolas Imura"] , nodding once. "So you already have a lab built, good. Show me."
 
I smiled as Krest moved like his rear was on fire. Getting out of the speeder, One of my men came up, got in, and started to move it away so we could continue on. Nodding to him as he showed me what the Alchemy lab was, I smiled and started to walk on. Leading him past a few hallways, the armory, and a few of the rooms that were reserved for my men who worked exclusively in the Hangar bay, when we reached the door. Opening it by placing my left hand on a scanner, The door clicked, and then hissed open by the hydraulics that would keep the door shut.

Walking in, it at first was dark, but the lights flickered on to reveal a complete set of Forges for metal smithing, a basin, and what looked to be almost an entire chemistry lab. Already there were some vials that were bubbling from my tests on my blood, and even what looked to be a scale from a creature long thought to be extinct. To one side of the room, there were multiple doors made out of glass that housed vials of poison, samples, and even just plain chemicals from your standard window cleaner, to a biological chemical cleaner.

Opening my arms, I motioned to the room as a whole,

"What's mine is yours."

[member="Krest"]
 
A faint smile formed on the Zabrak's face as he looked about the room. While he didn't actually care about the room itself, he did care about the basin in the center. To him, that was the only thing that mattered when making a blade. Literally throwing his bounty onto the basin, Krest would wave [member="Nickolas Imura"] over. "This is good, but to do what you wish me to do I will need your strength, and your blood as well as his. A sacrifice, and an owner." Krest would reach down into his boot, pulling free a rather simple Sith Dagger and without hesitation he moved over to the man, leaned him over the basin, and ripped open his throat with the blade.

Chanting mostly to himself, the Zabraks eyes would narrow onto the now dying man. Instead of blood coming out of his neck, a thick black red fog would pour, sinking into the basin itself. Blood Magic, if you will. The Basin itself would begin to boil, it's thick tarlike waters rumbling as it seemed to suck in the life essence of the man Krest had just killed. Once the smoke finally stopped pouring from the hole in the mans neck, Krest would drop his body to the side, it completely devoid of blood. Without looking, the sword maker would toss the dagger to Nick, motioning for him to step over.

"I don't care where you cut yourself, but do so and let the blood drip into the waters. It doesn't need much, but this will seal the blade to you and you alone."
 
I knew how the basics of alchemy worked. A creator, and an owner were two different things. I would be needed in the process of making this sword. I would help forge the blade. Watching as he took a rather strange dagger. Ceremonial almost, and cut the man's throat. A few drops landed into the basin as then it started to flow out like a mist from words of a spell, or incantation that the Zabrak spoke. I couldn't hear any words, nor tell what language it was from. However, I knew that whatever he said was making the blood leave the entirety of the body. I slowly watched as the body became a pail white.

Once that was done, the basin was almost filled. Dropping the body off to the side, I knew that maybe I could use this body later for a few experiments. I decided that I would leave it there until I had some free time. When the dagger was thrown towards me, I caught it as though I had been practicing that over a year. I looked it over for a second to see the blood covered blade. The words of the Zabrak came up speaking to me. Saying I needed to cut myself. Walking up to the basin, I was about to cut into my hand, but thought of it. I needed to use my hands for the moment. Switching the knife to be in my right hand, I easily placed the blade down on my left arm.

Pressing down, I cut into my skin, slicing it open to watch as drips of almost black blood fell into the crimson waters below. Tainting the fresh fog of blood with black. I clenched up my left arm. Cutting deeper into the wound to cause more blood to flow. I kept allowing my blood into the basin, and then placing the dagger down, I covered my hand over the wound, and walked over to the side. Reaching a sink where I washed off the blood, and wrapped gauze around it for the time being. Just so then my blood wouldn't get everywhere.

"What next."

[member="Krest"]
 
"Next, I need metal. And, why did you cut yourself so badly? I said I only needed a few drops." Blue eyes glanced to [member="Nickolas Imura"] , seeming concerned. In reality, he was slightly annoyed at the amount of blood put in. Not that it would affect anything, it just seemed a waste. While he waited for the metal however, he would place both of his hands on the side of the basin, concentrating on the bubbling liquid. The blade the boy wanted was going to take a lot out of Krest, so it was best to be prepared. Muttering a couple words, the black red liquid would turn into a burning red, seeming to be a liquid fire. It would, of course, actually feel like that should someone put their hand in.

Which Krest was going to ask Nick to do. "Put the metal I with your hand, make sure you set it at the bottom of the liquid." While the pain would be there, it would be purely imagined, and his hand would be unharmed. A test, if you will, to make sure the blade was going to the strong.
 
I smiled as he said that he needed the metal next. Then as he asked me why I cut myself so badly, I smiled devilishly as I answered him. "Alchemy is not only about manipulating items, creatures, or people. It's about using your creations with reason. If I have to sacrifice blood for this sword, then I will sacrifice all that I can to create such a blade to fit my needs and wants. Sith Alchemy needs more than just materials." And it was true. To make such a weapon, or item. You needed to have the mind set to go above and beyond the calling. Reach for what you desire most, then instead of stopping there, go beyond so you can improve on it, and enhance not only your desire, but yourself as well.

He might not understand it, but the project that I have been working on over the past 19 years has taught me that. So I shall continue as such.

Krest continued on to tell me to take the metal and place it into the bottom of the basin. I knew what I needed. Walking over to the work bench, There were ingots of an assortment of metals. Mostly, one that I had to pay a hefty price for. Electrum. A metal that was very rare, and usable to those who have reached the master rank. A sign of becoming one. I also grabbed the Titanium bar. Holding both with either hand. I walked towards the basin. Knowing that both would have to be put in there.

The bubbling blood smelled like iron. I could almost taste it as I held the Electrum bar in my right hand. I looked to Krest for a second. Knowing that this would hurt. Even if it was fake or not, I knew it was. Clenching my right hand around the bar, I then dipped it into the blood.

Cringing and groaning at first contact, I tried to push forward. Using all that I had to keep putting my hand deeper and deeper into the pool. The ingot was to be at the bottom of the basin. While the basin wasn't that large compared to others I have seen, it still felt like forever until I reached it. I placed the bar down, as the boiling blood was close to my elbow if not above it. Kind of hard to tell when your hand feels like it's on fire. I closed my eyes and let go of the bar. Pulling my hand out I found that when it was completely out, there were no marks, scars, or even red coloration on my hand.

I clenched my hand. Looking to Krest.

"I hope you know you are lucky I really want this sword."

[member="Krest"]
 
"It would be wise not to threaten me. At least, not while I have your blood in this basin. Asides, I spilled the blood of a man to make a sword, and I will not let a sacrifice, no matter if the man deserved it or not, fall upon the weak. This sword will not be your crutch. And don't tell me the heat was too much for a fire shaper." While the last part with said as a jest, the beginning was sinister. Blue eyes narrowed, almost turning red as he spoke his next words. "However, if you had hesitated I would of claimed your arm within the liquid as tribute to the sacrificed."

There was nothing more serious than the Zabrak with his final words. His death like gaze would shift from the Sith back down to the basin. With the metal needed inside, he would get to work. First, it was the alchemising. It's structure would change in almost an instant, its properties would shift. Krest had done this too many times for him to be slow. The boiling sea of liquid fire would shift, turning an almost golden as the liquid itself became the metal. The blood seemed to infuse into it, creating a golden hue that didn't fit the setting in the slightest. However, there would be no shape of a blade yet, instead it barren of any defining shape

Until the Zabrak pulled his hands back. A torrent of lighting would flash outwards, striking the metal liquid with the killing intent of any Sith. A hollow scream would erupt from the depths, as if the sacrificed man's spirit was burning alive. The lightning, however, did not ripple along the edges of the pool, but seemed to be absorbed. Closing his fists, Krest would yank upwards on the metal, and the pommel of the blade would rise, the hilt standing out within the center of the liquid. But it seemed to be attached.

"Grip the pommel, take in the lightning. If you do not let go, the blade will form, and it will be forever yours." Krest voice sounded much older than before. What ever he had done seemed to have drained him. However, that was nothing compared to the pain [member="Nickolas Imura"] would have to go through to get his blade. At the touch of the metal a seemingly endless blast of lightning would tear through the holder. Such was the way of Alchemy however. Pain was unavoidable.
 
His words were true. At least they were to him for a great extent. For me? I was mulling it over. It wasn't that I felt the man was necessary, but it didn't fall on him for the swords creation. No. It was my own. He might have not been really needed for the sacrifice, but I was. I needed to give something up, to gain something more.... well more. I knew the little jest at the end was just for me, I just rolled my eyes and paid attention as he began to forge the process of the sword. Lightning filled the room with the smell of ozone as a pommel came out of the lake of blood. I looked at it rather strangely as the grip and hilt was longer than the basin was deep.

Krest spoke and his words entered my ears clearly. I needed to take the blade. and to not let go. Standing there. I felt like this was going to be a heavy mess of what I needed. For the process to work, I needed to take my gloves off. Since they attracted lightning, I didn't want them to absorb too much and blow on me. As well, I took my jacket off. Revealing a black and red band tank top. If Krest looked from behind me, he could see the chain of a necklace that I always wore. Taking it out, I held it for a second. Remembering my family. Knowing that I couldn't let go. I would never let go.

Letting it fall against my chest, I walked up to the basin. Nervous as ever. Seeing the lightning flashing around the grip of the sword as it protruded from the crimson lake. Slowly I reached out with my right hand. But once I was close enough to get shocked by the lightning, the grip seemed to attract my hand like two magnets. I gripped it with all that I had. My knuckled turned white, and my skin flashed With lightning. My arm was shaking violently and threatened to let go, but I held on.

Mental images of my life flashed through my eyes. Growing up as a child. Playing with toy swords out in the front yard with Morna. Seeing my parents smile as they watched us play swords and war. Morna would smack me too hard in the hand and as I child I would cry. But he was there to help me up. Trying to make it better by consoling me. Even letting me give him a free shot at him. Which I never took. The pain of the next day, watching as my mother and father were murdered by a Sith apprentice. Fearing the man in the black cloak as he used a sword to cut my father down. Raping my mother before she too was killed. I had watched it all.

Morna and I were scared. Not knowing what to do. The man was coming into the kitchen and I shoved my brother into the cabinet under the sink. Turning around as the door opened, I looked up at the man. Seeing his face. I was scared, but at the age of five, I stood up, trying to protect my brother. Feeling the pain as lightning hit me. I phased back into the present. My entire body shook. I couldn't control it any more. I tightened my grip on the sword. Vowing to not let go. Once more I thought of my time stuck in the lab as an experiment. Tested on. Beaten, scarred, scared, afraid of the Sith who had me captured. Wanting to see if my brother was okay. I fought for each day of my life. Never giving up. Never giving in. The pain I felt then was nothing as I am feeling now.

Lightning flashed back to current time. I had to keep it there. I felt my hand slipping. Even more so, I didn't care that the lightning was hurting me. I wouldn't let go of who I was. And what I had become. Taking my left hand. I reached out. Grabbing the blade with both hands. I arched my back as the pain flooded over my entire body. My eyes were watering and yet they were dry. My face felt hot and burning as a star just before it ended it's life. My hands felt as though thousands of needles were being jammed into my hand over and over again. My heart raced faster than the beat of any bird living or dead. My chest felt like it was going to explode like a supernova.

Yet I still held on. Dreaming of the images of my brother. Searching for him. My first fight with Krest. Ashin, training to become better with a Saber. Getting Storm and using it for the first time. My strength as a Fire Shaper. The crush I had on Aerin. The creation of my lightsaber. Being Knighted and becoming even more stronger. Fighting in an Invasion, Accepting my Dark side. Learning to control my anger. The death of Morna, Fighting with his wife Lexa. Then becoming her lover and father to a child. And most of all, the dragon in which I have taken care of over the past 19 years since I was a lowly Knight. All these images and instances flooded my head as I held on with all of my strength. I could smell the smoke of a fire in which I had upon my hands and arms. My vision was flooded in red and orange to which I had to force my will upon this sword. Taking in all this pain. Not saying a word, but cringing, yelling, screaming. I could feel my hands get hot at my nails and claws were digging into my skin from the other side of the handle. Feeling the blood drip down my hand and into the boiling waves of crimson blood. The life force of us all.

My back was still arched My chest popping out to the sky in pain. Shaking as though an earthquake was running throughout the entirety of my body and form. Tremors shaking my soul. I pushed myself to lean forward. Leaning down to face the sword and it's creation. I am the wielder of this blade. I am the wielder of a sword that would be made from my very essence. Time felt forever as I stood there. Letting the lightning flood me with pain and agony to levels I had never felt before. Gripping onto the sword. A doubt entered my mind.

"Should I let go?"

And in that instant, I knew that I couldn't.... wouldn't let go. Leaning completely forward. I closed my mouth from the screaming and hollering. Clenching my teeth together so hard I feared they might break. And in that moment, I said only one sentence that I will never forget. Uttering the phrase with every ounce of power and ability I had. I might give my soul for such a saying. My voice deep and filled with manifestations of the force. Flowing through my veins like a river.

"Warriors are not made my the strength of their body, but by the strength of their soul."

[member="Krest"],
 
[member="Nickolas Imura"]

Krest watched on, his eyes devoid of any emotion. His part in this forging was finished. The sword itself was finished, but it needed a master before it would take shape. A master who would pledge his soul to it. The blade, unknown to Nick at the time, would become as much of a part of him as his heart was. Without the blade, he would grow weak. Without him, the blade would grow weak and heavy to any other. Such was the cost of locking it to himself.

But there was something the Zabrak had forgotten to tell the boy. His eyes would snap forward, and his voice would sail out over the the crackling noise of the lightning.

"You must pull the blade free to end your torment!" Once Imaru would pull the blade up and out, the blade would take shape almost immediately, the water literally turning from just that into a solid blade as it would come above the water level. It would take shape based on his own desire, and once the sword was pulled free, it would stop it's lightning.

But the farther the blade was pulled, the stronger the electricity to course through his form. Krest waited to see his true resolve, sitting down beside the wall he had found himself near.
 
The Lighting still coursed through my veins. Shaking me to the core. I could feel the needles reaching up to my arm. I could feel the power that was within the blade seem to be in tune with my own signature. Almost as though we were connected. I was silent. Clenching up to keep the sword there. Only, I could hear over the cracking of electricity bits of works from Krest. My vision was failing and the lights in my eyes were confusing me as to which it was lightning or the sign of me having a huge amount of fatigue. Nonetheless, I heard something like this.

"You... pull the blade... end... torment."

I got the gist of it. I needed to pull the sword. Holding this blade here was one hell of a pain. Separating it from the pool of life would be even worse. I knew that for sure. I tried to move my body. Stepping closer, and only moving my hands just enough, one at a time, so then I could grip it as though I were pulling it from the ground. I wanted the blade to be of my creation. While Krest helped me with the actual incantations, I knew we would have to talk later about them. I wanted to learn this kind of power. This ability so that I may be able to forge the greatest of things.

I clenched down on the sword with all that I had. And began to pull. I was weak from the constant lightning hitting me. I was weary from the images flashing in front of me, but I needed to finish this. I needed to pull the sword from the lake of crimson flames and blood so that I could become what I am destined to be. The lightning upon my arms started to flicker faster and faster. The tendrils of light started to get thicker, and the impacts on my arms and body were putting a heavy toll on my life. I could die from this here, but I won't accept it. I pulled harder and harder. Yanking with everything I had.

Slowly I could see the pool drain from the basin, while the golden sword blade was rising from the lake. At first it was the guard. Circular and perfect in shape. Followed by the blade in which was shimmering with the electrum reflecting the liquid. As much as I was shaking the sword was not. Continuing to pull. And when I got about a fourth of the way down the blade, I felt the lightning suddenly surge to a whole new level. I screamed in pain and agony. Wanting this to all end. I had come so far, not just to die. I shut my mouth. Accidentally biting down on my tongue. Groaning and having a grimace as the sword slowly formed from the shrinking pool.

Once more the energy surged when I reached about the half way mark. I could hardly see anything past my hands and the grip of the blade. The basin looked to be almost absorbing me in bright lights ranging from blue, to purple, and red. Black even as I yanked as hard as I could. And as expected the lightning surged one more time about three fourths of the way through. I could only see what was ahead of me. I could see that the bandage that I had put on earlier had fallen off, and the wound was actually healed. A scar was left in it's place. A long line of purple that marked me.

I was almost to the end of the blade. Almost there. Pulling with everything. Stretching to reach up above my head just so then I could pull the sword up. My muscles were tense. I was scared that my bones my break from the constant shaking. And I was sure I probably broke a few fingers on my right hand by how hard I was gripping onto the sword. I was so done. I was pissed. I was angry, I wanted my goddamned sword! Yelling at it,

"You are mine you fething bastard!"

Yelling and screaming on the top of my lungs as I pulled the sword completely from the basin.

I was thrust to the ground, and more so just let myself fall. Falling onto my back from the pain I had felt. As a child, I thought the constant needles and the changing of skin hurt, however, this topped it all. I had taken a dagger to the hand, and yet that did not hurt as much as this. I had fallen from a 300 meter drop, and yet that was not even a fraction of the pain I feel now. Laying on my back on the ground, I held the sword in my hands. Holding it close to my chest. breathing heavily as I just laid there. Wanting so much to take one long nap.

"I did it."

[member="Krest"]
 
Krest, who had been regaining his own strength and focus, stood up after the blade was finally pulled free. Moving over to the basin, he would cast his blue gaze down upon it. Empty. There wasn't even a force signature left within it's base. He would left out a small sigh before turning his gaze back over to [member="Nickolas Imura"] , who remained prone, almost hugging his sword like a toddler would a toy. It was a dark sight for the Zabrak. The blade he had made may of been one of his best, but it was also the darkest he had ever made. Regardless of who happened to wield the blade, it would sow it's name in blood, just how it was born.

"Get up kid. Now we have to train you with it. Make sure you can handle its power before I let you run around with something that dangerous."
 
Laying there, I was breathing rather shallow. I mean, I had just had the life shocked out of me while trying to pull a sword from a magical bowl filled with boiling blood taken from a guilty man. That's a lot to comprehend all at once. Even more so, I wondered how I was still alive. Looking up, even when it hurt, kind of like my body had just been put through a mince meat grinder, I could see Krest looking down at me. And saying that I needed to get up so he could see how well I could use the sword. I looked at him like he was crazy.

"You mean right now?"

I let my head fall and thunk on the ground. I let out a "umph" sound as it really did hurt. I leaned my head up again looking at him.

"Well don't just stand there, help up a guy who feels like jelly in the oven."

[member="Krest"]
 
"There is no rest for the wicked." Krest would only grin as he spoke before reaching down to pull [member="Nickolas Imura"] up by his arm. In truth, the Zabrak didn't care for what ever pain he was in. He was still alive, and could still move if pushed enough. But he did need the boy in working condition. Tears would well uo the eyes of the red man, and with a slight wave of the force his tears would wash over Imaru.

Odd, yes, until you learned that Krest's tears were a healing solvent stringer than Bacta. Krest had altered his tear glands using another of his skills, Art of the Small, after learning about the solvent from none other then one of his students. It would take a moment to act, but Imaru would find himself feeling much better after only a few moments.
 

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