Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private To Lose Reason



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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf

WELCOME TO MY DARK SIDE

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Chilled durasteel, flashing emergency lights, anguished screams. This was all she had. All they had. Recollection of anything further, older, earlier, was out of touch for her erratic, rabid mind. Moments predating the unholy union were infinitesimal fractals that amounted to little in comparison to the daunting task of tightening their understanding of one another. Already, within seconds of consciousness, their mutual hatred was growing stronger toward themselves.

The feminine silhouette was on her side, collapsed as if someone had dropped her here. An exhausted and hollowed human vessel, so shocked from the fusion and extreme adrenaline-driven attacks that initiated so swiftly from their potent bond. Oblivion took over immediately after their exodus from the Alliance Service Vessel. The blackout forced a convenient forgetfulness toward the corpses in her wake. It chose to forget; Sentient enough to know that somehow, this human would be too wrought to be useful if she could remember. They had to learn together, to acquaint with one another and everything else as one.


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In a head that was so full of precious moments, it felt uncharacteristically empty. A void that vyed to be filled and influenced. She couldn’t think beyond herself –– themself–– if she –– if they –– wanted to. Anything beyond their physical composition, and the unique space she found herself isolated in, didn’t exist.

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Vaguely, in the distant corners of her mind, sealed so tightly and far away she might have been able to trace a familiar outline if she concentrated hard enough. If she knew where to look. But no such focus was achieved, there were too many new sensations for the nascent symbiote and host to experience together for the first time.

They needed to share more, to learn and understand as one.

A lone bead of sweat trailed from her forehead to the tip of her nose, lingering for a moment before dripping. It never touched the ground; a tendril of curiosity intercepted the salt droplet and absorbed it. It realized it was not tears, though there were distinct similarities in the chemistry. They drew comparisons and considered them.

It was hot where they were. Arid. They were warm –– an opposing sensation to the other environments they had experienced together. This warmth hadn’t existed in the lab on Felucia where HX7 had been born, nor the interrogation room aboard the Reedemer vessel. Both had been spartan, cold, sterile and empty.

Wet, tired eyes trailed down her arm that lifted lazily and she watched the sinews swirl about her limb –– mesmerized and fascinated by the fluidity of the gooey movements. When an invisible source pulled her up by the shoulder, she looked down at her torso and legs and realized she was consumed entirely by it. That same force that encouraged her to sit up directed more movement and within a beat, it was limply dragging her – their – hand across the stone surface, familiarizing itself with the fine, gritty texture.

Looking around, it was with her own eyes. She could understand the environment as craggy, hostile and isolated. Rolling tides of melted fire carried a current through carved spaces, emanating that heat they’d identified earlier.

That pleasant heat was slowly joined by another sensation, one that chilled the air around her and prickled along their shared flesh. The Darkside was tangibly thick here, and it poured its mightiness all over them.

The symbiote loved it. The Jedi hated it. But they accepted it, their inability to be entirely codependent resulting in inaction that resulted in the miasmic evil saturating its way through their unified intelligence.

While slowly waking, and warring for lucidity, the vessel remembered again a vagueness –– something she ought to know, just out of reach. Dancing on the peripheries of her psyche with a frustrating slipperiness that disappeared entirely to an inhumane, screeching wail that began with an agonized pitch and reached a crescendo of furious malice. Its volume waned as the sinews once again stretched over the human expression and eclipsed her weeping entirely.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Heels clicked across volcanic stone and obsidian as the sorceress made her through the underground lava chambers. She did not feel the heat of the molten materials running through the tunnels and caverns, a small use of the Force keeping her body temperature comfortable. A infantile rhak-skuri scuttled down a smaller side tunnel, not wishing to disturb the Sith as she made her way to the chamber holding something far more fascinating.

Eldaah was recovering from her injuries on the surface facility, a treatment from Spaarti already on the way to regenerate the damage she sustained above Ziost. Within a few days, for her, it would be as though she had never lost an arm to Djorn Bline. She vaguely wondered how the man was, and what exactly Maynard was going to do to him. The evidence had been left aplenty to be found, if sought after, to place the suspicions needed on him. If not, it was no real lost. After all, she had the subject to study.

She and Eldaah had not been sure if Loske had been infected with the cells of HX7 on Felucia, but it had been reasonable to assume so as she had been splashed with the blood and the mist from the creature before she killed it. The connection of minds had shown the Lady of Secrets that it was there, a sentience wanting to form, to coalesce, to experience... quietly changing the Jedi until it was activated to full virulence. A simple spell and the, she wasn't sure what to call the mutation yet, but symbiote sounded good had begun to spread, to reveal itself. What had followed had been impressive, as seen by Eldaah as she escaped and her droids that recorded everything. The entire crew had perished, and it was shown that the subject still retained some of its abilities from its progenitor.

The clicking of her movement stopped as she stood on the edge of the containment circle holding the subject. Ancient Sith runes, applied meticulously, formed a barrier to keep the subject within for study. The dark side energies of the world, all the more potent than even Ziost's or Korriban's fueled the runes and the miasma of it hung everywhere, inviting, seductive, quietly seeping. Taeli was very curious about the symbiosis occurring, and what exactly the minds of both were experiencing the change.

Purple eyes looked upon the hunched silhouette as the sinews covering Loske moved on their own or forced a hand to move. It was learned, analyzing, becoming familiar with its surroundings and its host. A wail escaped from Loske before she was once again fully concealed by the offspring of HX7, and Taeli felt some pity for the woman. And yet... She had only herself to blame for this. She had gone along with Djorn's request even after the warning from Eldaah.

"Fascinating, is not?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying over the bubbling and hissing of the chamber.
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
WELCOME TO MY DARK SIDE

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No longer feeling the necessity to overpower the vessel, the symbiote receded as its activator approached. As much as it craved to grow alongside the Jedi, it was starved to evidence appreciation for the progenitor.

Loke gasped, drawing in a shocked breath that stung the back of her throat –– and then coughed to dispel the puncture of heat.


"Fascinating, is not?"

“N––not really.” She growled back, retaining some sense of self and how atrociously mutated her situation was. Where she was, how she got here, why this relationship existed continued to evade her, but she could feel a sense of knowingness on Raaf’s approach. The woman’s voice resounding an echo of familiarity in the canyon’s of her sparse mind. A realization glinted in the darkness, and she mentally scurried toward that distant sparkle to uncover its meaning. It whispered its information out, reminding the woman within that she wasn’t supposed to be like this and this situation was the result of the violet-eyed Mistress’ incantations.

“Not at all, what is this –– what did you do to us?” She had been something before this, but what had she been? The accusation accelerated her pulse, the split reality she straddled agonizing the symbiote and its relationship to her. She could feel it tighten against her skin in protest and she grit her teeth to trap a pained scream from slipping out. A whimper managed.

“You’re gonna––nng!” She winced, the tendrils around her arms, ribs and throat strengthened themselves further; it felt as though the muscles beneath her skin were betraying her as well –– not just the topical spread.

We ...have friends,” Loske breathed, seeing glimpses of something she felt she should know and used that to bolster her falsified confidence. She wasn’t entirely sure if she did have friends or not, but the silhouettes and shapes in her mind’s eye suggested there might be hope there. Hope in something. “And they’re going to kill you. Or I will.”

She’d make herself believe that truth, forcing the mentality bridged with the experiment to acquiesce to her pressure. Consciousness within an unconscious union. It continued to search, poke around, where it expected to find truth in that statement there was a dead place. A place where nothing was. Where everything pulls back. She reached out, and what reached back died. The Jedi’s consciousness stopped searching. Something was here once. Something had been built, lived and disappeared. It stood out too much to not matter –– it didn’t fit. Why would there be a place that she couldn’t touch in her own mind? A question that wasn’t supposed to be asked, and the relationship she was living in revolted at curiosity, saturating deeper into her blood and tissues and forcing her to curl in on herself again as she broke out in a malarial sweat that was consumed by the symbiotes unquenchable thirst.

The struggle between two minds continued, refuting one another on the idea that there was something missing. They pushed as much as they pulled, refusing to meld entirely.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
The host surfaced again at her words, the subject receding to allow Taeli to speak with her. It would feel a sense of appreciation, like a master rewarding a loyal pet. The struggle between the two was interesting, both to see and feel. It was a clashing of mind and body, their presences in the Force like oil and water, surging against each other and retreating when forced to before another surge came. Such a violent struggle, and the subject was still only forming its sense of self. As it matured, it would grow stronger she expected.

"All I did was awaken something already inside you," she replied. Her words seemed to bring more of Loske's damaged psyche to the fore. Interesting. "It was your choices that led you to here."

She was beginning to suspect her spell to awaken the malignant cells of the subject within Loske had done more than that. The cells must have progressed further than expected, even in tests conducted on Felucia before the Alliance came to the world. Then again, the introduced cells mutated in unique ways as the Lady of Secrets had intended. It made curing or responding to a subject born from this project all the more difficult to deal with. HX7 hadn't been the first, but it was clear to the Sith that she was on the right track.

Loske's mind and memories must have splintered when the spell overtook her, made it easier for the subject to infest its host and alter their mind. Some scans would need to be run at some point to determine the physical condition of her synapses and internal chemistry. The last pronouncement brought a rise of amusement from Taeli and the subject clearly did not appreciate the threat its host offered to the Sith.

"Oh I'm sure your friends will be looking for you soon enough," Taeli remarked. "But back to choices. I've always been a proponent that our choices make a more binding path to walk. For instance, you chose to accompany Maynard to Felucia. You both chose to sacrifice men and women loyal to you before coming to Hojo Base. You chose to fight SYMBIOTE. You chose to assist Djorn in interrogating Eldaah even after she warned you. Every choice you made led you here, whereas a different choice could have left Maynard in your position or the cells within you could have lain dormant for years."

Taeli offered the younger woman a softer smile.

"The more you fight what is happening, the more painful it will be. The more you struggle, the more it will struggle. The longer you refuse to bond, the more damage you inflict on yourself. The more you reject the darkness, the more voracious it will be when you succumb. Your choices now will determine what you become, Loske, and how much of you will be left at the end of this process of growth."
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
WELCOME TO MY DARK SIDE

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"All I did was awaken something already inside you," "It was your choices that led you to here."

“This was never a part of me.” She argued, feeling the words along her tongue before they aired. There was a different tone to her voice, more gravelly and unmatched to an individual speaker –– like her words were taking time to calibrate between two minds.

Her brow furrowed deeply and she glared at The Lady of Secrets. Her lips were drawn in a defiant line while wisps of purplish skin curled around her jawline, creeping up and down her face in morbid animation. Feeling, sensing, realizing boundaries and memorizing them grooves and dips of its new vessels face. While Loske refused to accept, it worked eagerly to adopt what she could give. If it wasn’t her complete mind straightaway, it would continue to work with her body in the meantime. The way her mouth moved, the way her eyebrows knit, her muscles clenched in protest, throat tightened with emotion. All of it would be memorized and amplified to make the full coating more realistic when activating was necessary.


"But back to choices. I've always been a proponent that our choices make a more binding path to walk. For instance, you chose to accompany Maynard to Felucia. You both chose to sacrifice men and women loyal to you before coming to Hojo Base. You chose to fight SYMBIOTE. You chose to assist Djorn in interrogating Eldaah even after she warned you.

Locations, names, actions, results –– all of these things had some sort of meaning to the vessel. The weight they might have had was much less impactful now. The vacancy of her wits made reflection purposeless and weightless.Only fractions and shadows remained.

Part of her mind revolted, retaliating to her obstinance. Her stomach pulled with the violent pounding in her skull, and she sipped in a shallow, tentative breath and held it until she thought she probably wasn’t going to be sick. Her glower remained.

Her skull felt like it was filling with fluid. Some her senses felt diluted, while others peaked. Her vision wasn’t one hundred percent, but her hearing, taste and touch were incredible. A salty flavour of blood in her mouth and she realized it was her own. She'd bitten her tongue at some point, but there was no wound. The black had sealed it over.


Every choice you made led you here, whereas a different choice could have left Maynard in your position or the cells within you could have lain dormant for years."

Something inside felt a sort of triumph at the information that she was in this position rather than the other name, and that the dormancy was as harmful as the activation. Maynard. That dead space seemed to swell in response to the repetition of that name, like a yawning canyon with a dark shadow that thrummed with a light at its core. The secondary psyche burrowed into her memory, bringing back details she hadn’t remembered before. She heard whispers and promises associated with his name, except his face –– that face was melting and stretching. She screwed her eyes shut, looking away from nothing and working to force the sickness inside of her away from that little box she’d locked away the back of her mind and buried deep down in that dead space.

A short gasp escaped, and she blinked back to the present. Blots of darkness blossomed in her vision and she felt dizzy.

Every choice lead to this? Some sort of terrible consequential punishment for her sins? Briefly she glanced down at the ropey connections that webbed between her fingers, the second coat of skin never stopped moving, rolling, roaming about her body.

“Good.” Loske sneered, and the second layer of skin that consumed her quivered in equal delight at the putridness of the snarl. “Better to get this over with then.”


"The more you fight what is happening, the more painful it will be. The more you struggle, the more it will struggle. The longer you refuse to bond, the more damage you inflict on yourself. The more you reject the darkness, the more voracious it will be when you succumb. Your choices now will determine what you become, Loske, and how much of you will be left at the end of this process of growth."

Fight what was happening? The feeling of something hollowing her out and filling the space with new information, new abilities, new darkness –– of course she wanted to fight it. A process sounded foreboding, and it was infuriating to consider that she was under the control for some sort of experimentation. Something about that felt too familiar, too much like something she’d hated before. Hate. Detestful venom burned at the back of her throat and behind her eyes, and she narrowed her vision. Her irises faded into a milky haze of black and white.

With what little independent thinking the Jedi still had, she sought to strike and make good on her threat. Once more, impulse took over. This time, it was born from within the Jedi, not the symbiote, and a funnel of tendrils pushed from her palm, the clawed extensions of her fingers stretching out to strike out at Lady Raaf and cut her down where she stood.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Black tendrils lashed out, clearly the host exercising some control, reversing the symbiosis for a moment to attack the her. Taeli didn't move from where she stood, didn't flinch... and a smirk formed as the tendrils reach the barrier containing Loske within, an inch away from reaching the Sith Lady. A red shimmer rippled out from each individual impact zone, like waves born from a pebble tossed into a puddle.

"Ah ah," she taunted, waving a finger in a playful warning. "Admirable effort, I'll give you that."

Remarkable willpower, she thought, even as she examined the tendrils up close. She was trying oh so hard, but she could sense Loske was faltering ever so slightly. She was angry, she was hateful... all powerful fuel for both the symbiote and the young blonde to use if she would just harness it. But she was resisting, holding onto what she once was instead of allowing herself to become something new, something stronger. Well, that would need to be changed.

Taeli reached into the pocket of her robes, withdrawing a small antique stylus. Pricking her finger with the sarrassian iron tip, she began to draw new Sith runes along the edge of the barrier circle.

"Your resistance is to be respected, I must admit that," she said, keeping a light conversational tone as she worked her along the edge of the barrier. "But if you're hoping to hold onto who you were, locking some parts away in your mind in the event of rescue by your Jedi friends, you're only prolonging your pain." A call within the Force went out, a summoning for something within these caves and tunnels. "Eventually, all of who you are will be laid bare before the subject before you. And when that comes... well, you won't have any secrets from me either. But, we need to change a few things I think."

She finished the new spell circle, all that awaited it was a touch of her power to trigger the magic. But she didn't immediately trigger it, she was waiting for the scuttling sound coming from the tunnel behind her and the one ahead. Mutated six-legged insects emerged, and at the command of their Mistress, they took positions on either side of the circle.

"In ancient times, the Sith that found this place called it the Circle of Visions because of the vivid hallucinations and dreams they experienced here," she explained, ever the scholar. "They discovered that they were created by a combination of the pheromones of a species of diplura that resides in these tunnels and the dark side. The diplura were called the rhak-skuri, Dream Singers in the Sith tongue, and they became a vital part of the rituals that occurred in this place. Today, you get to experience one such ancient ritual. It will open your mind, broaden the symbiote's sense of self to have it achieve full sentience."

She turned thoughtful for a moment, the blood stained stylus hovering over the activation rune. "Even I don't know what visions you might see, but as the ritual progresses, lets just say... the further down the rabbit hole we go, the closer our bond will be."

And she passed a bolt of dark side energy through the stylus into the rune, triggering the spell in a green glow that illuminated the particles, the pheromones unleashed by the rhak-skuri, that would be breathed in.
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
IN EVERY DREAM HOME A HEARTACHE

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“Whatthekark,” came out in a tight, rushed breath when her attack paused mid-air. The pointed extensions of her phalanges scraped against the protective bubble, red circles rippling away from her touch. The translation between the clawed ends to Loske’s own nerves was almost instant, as much as she tried to reject it –– the bond was tightening in a physical sense. Though it pulled against her, opposing her intentions and reining her in. Fissures ripped along the seams of her connections, snapping and hissing at her continued rejection of the symbiote.

"Your resistance is to be respected, I must admit that,"
"But if you're hoping to hold onto who you were, locking some parts away in your mind in the event of rescue by your Jedi friends, you're only prolonging your pain."

Locking parts away? The flex of her fingertips lightened, becoming less animated as she considered the Sith woman’s words. In an instant, a torrent of reflections trilled through her mind. In shocking realization, her milky grey eyes widened. She had done that. She’d taken her memories and shoved them into the back of her mind, locking them away to protect them.

As she drew these connections, her heightened sense of hearing picked up on the approaching tick-tick-click-click noises scuttling in from an unknown location.


"Eventually, all of who you are will be laid bare before the subject before you. And when that comes... well, you won't have any secrets from me either. But, we need to change a few things I think."

Hurriedly, Loske sought out that fortress that kept her beloved memories safe. She was shaking..beneath the bluish-purple coating that slithered over her body, Loske was quivering with her own distrust of self. For all the strength she had, her mind was the least reinforced part of her. Too many people had been in there from the dawn of her conception to Ziost. Kiskla, Marcello, Isar, Cedric, Ryv, Maynard, Romi, Allyson, Eldaah, Taeli –– too many names had intercepted her thin barriers and diluted any opportunity to build something stronger. Something impervious to the wills of the wicked. A gasp in the shape of denial slipped through her teeth, hoarse and scared.

The symbiote and its new hostess were invited on a narrated journey of their location’s history. Ceremonies of yore and their relevance introduced. All the while, Loske worked in a panic to try and recover and protect what fractions of herself remained in the corners of her mind.


A yelp of surprise slipped from the host, though she felt her skin shift in intrigue at the appearance of the two six-legged guardians posted at either side of the circle. The insectoids made no advancement, just clicked their mandibles expectantly. By now, her hand had tightened once more, trying again in fruitless attempts to break through the barrier Taeli was scrawling on. Whatever the woman was explaining, was about to become Loske’s reality. She realized that much –– her new skin reinforced itself in excitement, but still kept the Knight’s face exposed.


"Today, you get to experience one such ancient ritual. It will open your mind, broaden the symbiote's sense of self to have it achieve full sentience."

Even I don't know what visions you might see, but as the ritual progresses, lets just say... the further down the rabbit hole we go, the closer our bond will be."

Its pulse seemed to quicken, as if it derived more stamina from the vessel’s apprehensive fear.

“Please, no.” Loske susurrated, a fearful tingle permeating from her cheeks down her throat and biceps.

Vile green mist tunnelled out from Taeli’s ministrations, siphoning the dark energy from the runes and locking in on it’s direction for Loske to inhale it to take full effect.

Her eyes widened, irises and awareness flickering in and out. In a knee-jerk reaction, she flung herself backwards, scrambling crab-like to evade the magical vapour. Her second skin planted her against the stone, anchoring her down to prevent further movement. In further protest, she reached up to cover her face –– again, her hands were yanked away by volitions other than her own. Contention was high between the parasite and host and Loske firmly held her breath while the cloud pressed around her face.

Several breathless seconds passed, the tickle of the fog never disappeared. It was intent on penetrating. To help give it access, the symbiote yanked Loske back further, straight to her back. On collision, the air was knocked from her lungs and she was forced to gasp. The sharp inhale was fateful, and the cloud wasted no time.

With unparalleled precision, it sought within to the little knot in the back of her mind. With what little consciousness Loske had left, she unravelled less useful instances where she’d been afraid, serving them up in hope to satiate the hallucinogenic dream singers.


"You are a vergence. The child of two that have walked the path, and seen its end. Why do you tread the same ground as your progenitors?"

Her first fear was to be alone, isolated in the wake of expectation and falling short time and time again, against insurmountable odds. She’d created a life for herself, connections that reinforced and suffocated that helplessness she felt in a faux insular reality.

It was these connections that the hungry exposé turned to next. A deeper layer, a greater one that everything she’d committed herself to was wrong. That it was all for naught, just cogs in the machine and bodies for the meat grinder without any sort of real impact on the world. Good lives, the lives of people she loved and cared for, cast away to historians and small words. Just further prolonging the deadly cycle of warfare. Bodies stacking, one on top of the other in a heap of waste.


"Deniable assets work like that, we're good until we're broken and then we're discarded."

“I saw the Eternal Empress cradle her dead husband, and in a sick way I think that was what triggered something inside of me, you know?”
“That could have been me in Evelyn’s arms if things were different.”

She felt a chill, like a physical sensation, as if her blood had actually congealed. Loske was fast coming distraught, losing herself to glimpses of colourful quotations and distorted faces that were being siphoned from their protected place in her mind. It was painful. She could hear them, see them, but not recognize them until they spoke. And in the instant she realized who they were, the symbiote gobbled them up, tearing the recognition to shreds and growing stronger in its intimate understanding of the blonde.

I know what'll happen to me, Loske. I know the truth of it. I'm gonna die young, bloody, and alone. "

Futility reverberated in her mental container, condemning her cause and all those that bid the commands for deployment time and time again. Fruitless endeavours.

“I thought...I thought it was a good thing. Let people choose their destiny. I don’t know. I’m confused, that’s all I know.”

"We put our lives on the line for a purpose. At least, that's what we're meant to do. But how can we be so easily expended? Are we really changing anything?
It's all so frustrating! I don't want to die for nothing!"

"He died a hero. There was nothing we could have done more for him. There's no need to be sad. His sacrifice will be remembered. We might have lost the battle, but we won't lose the war - their deaths will not be in vain."

"You can go rest. Maynard, would have wanted that."

Loske screamed, stretching her hands out into claws and dragging them into the stoney surface as if that would be enough to cling to, to drag her back from the visions and into reality. It was too much, too fast. She was strapped into a ride she couldn’t see beyond and wanted to do anything to get off.

When she couldn’t do it, her subconscious betrayed her and dug deep into that void — emerging with a memory and hurled it at the intruder as a final line of defense.



It was the final undoing, brandishing him like that. Flaunting the protectiveness he gave her in the reflection from that night.


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"Those kind of visions are only so true as you ever care to believe them...Ryv told me about similar before. I've seen the same...that kind of profound darkness that only exists in the back of your subconscious. But there isn't where you have the power. Its the here and now."

Desperation motivated her, and she arched and clawed at her face to pull the invasive layer from infecting her mind. An invisible grip wrapped tightly around her fist, restraining her from pulling the glistening sinews from her face. At hyperspeed they webbed and re-constricted to keep her from tearing herself apart.

The miasmic voyeur of her mind dug deeper, a sinister sensation cooling her bones.

All those fears, selfless fears, grew into something more selfish. More isolated. More intimate. Maynard had helped her conquer her worries of being alone, he’d given her purpose for the cause time and time again. And with everything he gave, the hallucinogens poisoned her perceptions and untangled her mental knot further, unravelling motivations that hadn’t existed before the dark magic infected her mind.

She was deeply afraid of him being alone. Of him putting his life into worthless causes, unable to withstand trials and turning away from her if she tried to make their dreams a reality. To walk away. Her fear of his death made her a shell; a mere husk of the weapon and potential she was capable of. It was wrong, it was wretched. She was used. They meant nothing.

Anger shifted in her gut. Rage and righteousness started to feel less authentic, like a wrap tied around something that wasn't either. the unsteadiness was painful. Like something worse, new. The monster gripped her hands in fists so tight they ached, but she lost her hold. The anger –– not even anger, petulance –– slid to the side an oceanic sense of disappointment of self rose up in her like a flood. It was too big, too pure, too painful to even have a single event to focus it. Just one person. Him.



Her tear ducts grew swollen, burgeoning with everything human within. Where tears were supposed to be, the viscosity thickened and churned, darkening into something more sinister.

She turned to face...herself. The mirror focused hard, its eye contact intense until it waived –– as if rendering and calibrating.


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To what? And Loske realized for the first time, she was seeing the symbiote that had bound itself to her. She expected to see herself scared, as gripped with fear as she felt, but instead, the face was knowing. Calm, almost intimidating. Unrecognizable wisps curled and clung to her jawline.

A new fear blossomed; the terror of what she was to become. All the harm she felt capable of wanting. Of doing. What they were to become, and how it would make true everything else that brought her such fright.


To have all these uncertainties, all these fears splayed out like this was indescribable.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Loske tried to retreat, tried to protect herself, but the mist of Sith magic and the pheromones created by the dark side twisted creatures would not be denied. As the breath went in, Taeli closed her eyes and projected herself outwards Ethereal, wisp like, symbolized by a dark shadow with glowing purple eyes, her spirit traveled along the links of the spell like the fog that had forged the connection, flowing in as the nightmarish hallucinations began to take shape.

Like the shadow cast by a light, Taeli lurked behind the mental projection of Loske, watching, observing... learning. The fortress within her mind, where she had sequestered what she could as the symbiote came into being, was laid open by the dark magicks of the Lady of Secrets. She could sense the fears of the younger woman... and she empathized with Loske. Taeli had been alone before, and she would allow the girl to feel that. To experience the loss that Taeli had felt when her adopted parents died, when she discovered her birth family was wiped out before she ever met them, how even her beloved sisters vanished, never to return. That pain, that loss, was one thing that had led Taeli to where she was. She knew that. She accepted it. But that pain lingered, was power she could draw upon for the rest of her life.

Even as the images of those Loske held dear appeared, their words echoing, their features twisting, Taeli kept them within her shadowy form. Analyzing them, seeing who they were, examining how they fitted within the chain of memories within Loske's mind and heart. She wasn't the only one learning. The symbiote was guzzling in all the knowledge it could feed upon, wanting to know more about its host, to grow stronger, to grow smarter. And the twisting continued.

Quietly, she influenced her views of what Loske had been through upon the memories seen. Loske would understand that Taeli saw the Jedi as she was starting to... all of it rooted in how they took advantage of her sister. Corvus... an image of Corvus, if Loske was paying attention, would slid through. A Grandmaster, a teacher to many, a paladin that never shirked from the fight against darkness and what did the Jedi do... used her until she vanished and then forgot her, wrote her off as another sacrifice for the greater good. Expendable... but never knowing that she could never be expendable to Taeli, that Corvus had been...

The shade watched as Maynard finally appeared and Loske's deeper fears arose. It was stringing together, silently reinforced by the shadow behind her and the symbiote that wanted to surge, to achieve what its progenitor never could. The mirrored image of Loske, one as she was now and the other blurring, shifting, offering a promise of what she could become... a whisper rose, Taeli's voice echoing and quiet...

Never reject what you feel. Embrace it. Confront your fears, internalize them, and they can be strength. Seize the anger, and you will know power. Understand your failings, and you will learn yourself. Do not fight what is to come, change is the nature of the galaxy, for us all. We evolve and grow stronger through our experiences, and in the end, if we are so fortunate, we become something new.
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
SOMEONE ELSE

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In these bleak and livid reactions, the darkside was very much within the Knight. Cherished reflections were tarnished and consumed, and Loske’s self-image continued to emerge and consolidate with the animation of the parasite.

A vague influence existed that felt familiar. Like a connection existed in the universe and between the lattices and interconnecting frequencies of her experiences would all overlap into a single node of reference.


"Just like her - you think you're so special, so smart."

Violet irises had been at the recesses of Alekto’s venom, and those same eyes, that same haunting outline lingered about the peripherals of Loske’s mindscape. Her perceivable self, a prisoner in her mental domain, whirled around as it to fixate on the ephemeral sister. The figure’s opacity wasn’t intense enough for the girl, overwhelmed with fear, to discern. But there was a likeness to the woman that leered over Loske’s shoulder. Loske mouthed the words, repeating Alekto's sneer "Just like her."

Whatever ounce of the Jedi was left, the pure wholesome heart wanted to reach out and appeal to Raaf. There was humanity in her touch, a distant longing in the recesses of her influence. All she could manage amidst the distorted chaos in her mind was a faint and tired: “W--who is..?”


Never reject what you feel. Embrace it. Confront your fears, internalize them, and they can be strength. Seize the anger, and you will know power. Understand your failings, and you will learn yourself. Do not fight what is to come, change is the nature of the galaxy, for us all. We evolve and grow stronger through our experiences, and in the end, if we are so fortunate, we become something new.

Unfamiliar coldness crept over her, wrapping her up in its embrace and stroking along her cheek, as if it were trying to console her. It didn’t help, but she was too weary to fight it, too drained and still reeling from the revelations and exhausting whirlwind of reflections that had consumed her. Too filled with immobilizing hatred, her body felt like flesh had been replaced with stone and the bond she’d been staving off had calcified around her. Her eyes were too tired to cry.

Even in this dreamscape, Loske’s spectral self was on her knees, hunched and broken. She was still staring at the space where her own face had been, now completely concealed in shadows and replaying the words back to her that Taeli was speaking. They were scripted out in handwritten cursive, dripping from the outline of her frame. The words felt stifling rather than comforting..and in the dismayed fatigue, Loske faded away. The symbiote tightened its influence and saw opportunity in Darth Arcanix’s instruction, eagerly consuming and adopting the instruction.

We become something new. It repeated hastily, the resounding depth of its voice gravelly and splitting the seams between the hallucination and reality.



 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Loske might be fading away, the symbiote surging at her instruction, but Taeli was not finished with the Jedi yet. She wanted Loske to see, to understand... empathy was also a powerful tool that could be used to draw one deeper. The specter of Taeli's spirit descended deeper into the mental quagmire that was the mind of Loske and the symbiote as the pheromones did their work and drew out images and memories, twisting them in some cases.

They were merging, but if the offspring of HX7 completely subsumed Loske, then it would not be a perfect union of the two beings. That was important. She wanted Loske to fall further, but she wanted the woman to have the strength to be an equal partner in the forming of the new entity. Taeli would touch the symbiote, telling it to be patient.

In the deepest parts of the mind, Taeli gently brought Loske back. In a way, the shadowy hand on the woman's shoulder, would anchor her for a moment. Give her a reprieve. It would appear a mercy for the woman, to have a moment to catch herself even as she drowned in darkness. Sith were not known for their mercy however, but for the moment, it would be a moment of quiet even as the subject connected more with the host's body. She could feel the fear, the fatigue... the girl was tired, both body and spirit, but it wasn't just from the events of Ziost. Other things weighed on the Jedi's shoulders... and in a moment, everything came to a stop in a swirl of gray. It would be still, Taeli holding her own spell back from this part... The words would come quietly, gently...

Much weighs on you, Loske Treicolt, but giving up the struggle so easily? I thought you were stronger than that.

The shade of Taeli would sit down, getting on the same level as Loske. Not looking at her, she turned her gaze upwards to the dome of shifting gray.

Change can be terrifying, I know. Unrestrained emotions can be even more so as they can fuel that change, unexpectedly and in a whirlwind that you never figure out until it is already done. I want you to understand something, Loske, something that not many alive today understand. I wasn't always a Sith, or even aware of the Force outside of the histories. Before one fateful day this was me...

An image of a younger Taeli, hair up in a ponytail and wearing a shirt with the University of Lorrd's logo and baggy sweatpants, surrounded by a mountain of datapads and actual books at the desk she was working at. The memory would push the book she was reading in a huff, chewing the corner of her mouth in thought, taking another book from the pile before setting that aside too. The memory got up and almost got bowled over by some eager teenagers running through the halls of the library.

"Oi! Watch where you're going!" she scolded them. "This is a library, not a park."


I grew up on Lorrd, adopted by the Raes, unaware of any connection to Corvus or Raafs or Jedi or Sith or any of it. I was a voracious little girl for knowledge; the librarians and teachers knew me by name. As I got older, that dedication to learning... well it got a little away from me. I was a university student, absorbed in coursework. Three degrees is a lot to take on, but I was taught by my parents to excel in academia. I had friends, I did extracurriculars. I loved to swim, to act, and fence.

I graduated top of my class, and I was going to study at the University of Ralltiir for my doctorates. My parents bought me a shuttle to use, but I had to pay for everything else. I was bringing some datapads to the ship, and then...


Two large arms wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. She couldn't fight back, she couldn't break the strong grip. The Kiffar and his friend were smirking at the boy holding her from behind. Datapads she had bought for her trip to the Core scattered at her feet, forgotten...

"Let me go!" she cried, panic causing her voice to rise. A voice growled in her ear, hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Not a chance," Kar Jarnik gloated. "You owe me something for all the humiliation I've suffered. You stripped me of my honor, now we will strip you of yours." His friends came forward, hands starting to explore as she struggled fruitlessly against Kar's grip. Her panic, her shame, her terror rose up as her blouse was ripped. Her fear consuming her as Kar whispered what exactly he had planned for her, biting her ear roughly. Hands started to slip further, her pleas for help falling on an empty alleyway, no one nearby to come save her from...

The two boys in front of her were thrown backwards by an unseen force, landing heavily on their backs. The boy holding her also was blasted backwards, but he recovered his footing and looked at Taeli in shock. Before he could say anything, Taeli instinctively raised her hand and threw him on top of his two friends. Her eyes were blazing as she advanced on her would-be rapists. The three boys scrambled to their feet, trying to get away from the enraged girl, but Taeli would not allow them to escape without punishment.

Again, through instinct, she reached out and gripped each boy by the throat with the same unseen force, lifting and choking them. The boys started making gurgling sounds as their eyes pleaded for mercy, but they would find none as she increased the pressure on their throats.

"You're an or'dinii," Kar was able to gasp out.

Knowing exactly what she had just been called, Taeli's eyes blazed with anger as she completely let herself go. Twisting her hand, she heard the satisfying pop of the Lorrdian and Kiffar's necks breaking and she dropped their bodies to alley floor. Walking directly up to the still struggling Mandalorian, she removed the beskade from his belt.

A few minutes later, Taeli was blinking rapidly as her bloodlust dissipated and she took in the sight in front of her. Two of the boys were on the ground their necks at odd angles, their eyes unseeing. It was what had happened to the third boy that made her recoil against the wall and stare at her bloody hands and the bloody saber clenched in them. Kar had his nose, ears, hands, and feet removed and scatted around his torso. Small cuts were across his body and had finished with a long slash across his throat.

"What have I done?" Taeli whispered, the saber falling with a clatter. "What have I done? What have I done?" She kept repeating this mantra over and over again, staring at the bodies and unable to look away...


I was found by a Sith known as Darth Praelior in the aftermath. She was secretly on Lorrd to learn something or other that I never found out, nor is it relavent anymore. She took me to the One Sith as an apprentice to control my powers. If she hadn't been there... I'm not sure what would have happened to me. I'm sure a Jedi from the Silvers or the Levantine Sacntum would have been summoned, but who knows.

The shade of Taeli finally looked at Loske.

It was a terrible day, but... I'm not sure I would change it if I could go back. I met my sisters because of the path I was set on. I met someone I loved and I have two daughters and a son because of this path I was set on. I have power and influence and wealth. I'm a master of the dark side, but I've had the chance to study with many Force sects. I eventually came to accept that I needed to embrace everything that happened to me, all the heartache, all the pain, my memories both good and bad, and it made me stronger for it.

Can you do the same, Loske?
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
TELL ME WHO I CAN BE, TELL ME WHO I AM

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The foreign touch to her stone-cold spectral shoulder stopped her from curling away completely. She wanted to hide from the effects happening, to hide until it was time to come out again. Completely give herself up to the creature that was trying so hard to consume her entirely –– a consumption that paused and curled away from the Sith woman’s ethereal hand.

Much weighs on you, Loske Treicolt, but giving up the struggle so easily? I thought you were stronger than that.

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Beneath the creeping sinews, Loske’s metaphysical brows knit to refute the woman’s condemnation. She was strong..but she was tired. Overwhelmed, scared, lied to –– her own understanding of the world was lying to her and mutating what she thought she knew, what she was so sure of into something invalidated and false.

Whether or not Loske wanted to participate in the mental journey of the Sith Mistress, a story was revealed. Part of her, the HX7, watched with a hunger that could only be satiated by knowledge. The other part, the Jedi, was bleary-eyed. At first, the memory was typical –– like something from a holodrama. Then things turned darker. Violent. Hateful.

A rolling shudder roamed through her body, tightening and expanding where it was appropriate. Loske needed something,
please anything, to convince her that this wasn’t forever. Anything to hold on to and build herself from.

Loske reached to cover her eyes, the symbiote pulled them away –– the two struggling entities found a middle ground and let the broken Jedi cover her mouth at least. She experienced it as a replica of Taeli. The body-numbing horror, the blinding hatred and rage, the bloodlust of retribution and revenge, the satisfaction of destruction, the isolating realization.

She couldn’t understand why Taeli was sharing this personal information with her.

Taeli had been afraid of herself –– a similar reaction Loske had when the mirror and herself had made eye contact. She’d turned on all those who made her afraid, Loske hadn’t earned the right to be afraid of herself yet. She had to undo those that made her afraid first, take the fear and control they had over her and destroy it. She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the shroud that welcomed her.

She had no hope, now. No hope but to turn this into something worthwhile.

Draw strength from her pain? She’d never felt such pain like this, all her fears exposed and alive...it was a deluge she was struggling not to drown in. There was no strength here.

No strength in the past. They spoke, coming to a realization. Her grip on her previous life was tenuous at best, muddled and shattered. We will do the same.

Show us how.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Accept it.

It was a simple instruction from the Lady of Secrets, but all the more complex because of it. For the Jedi and the symbiote to become something greater, they needed to accept everything they felt. Positive and negative memories and experiences, fear, pain, anger, hate, passion... every emotion had to be harnessed, examined and ultimately controlled. What Taeli asked of the host and the specimen was difficult, many could not do it. Even Carnifex had stripped himself of his emotions and feelings, believing it would grant him far greater strength if he could only harness the most intense and visceral experiences. That was not strength to the Lady of Secrets.

Strength in the dark side could only come from accepting everything within your life, all the good and bad, and harnessing it. Pain and heartache could effect her, deeply, but in the end, she would internalize it and make herself stronger from it. Anger and hatred could be white hot, sudden and fierce, but it was the cold anger, the patient and creeping flames, that gave a Sith a deep reservoir of power to draw upon for decades or longer. Fears were obstacles to be conquered, but no less could they happen and even momentarily strike at the heart of your being. In the end though, fear, no matter what form it took, could be used.

And yet... the lighter emotions could equally be used, some might even call them corrupted. Love could become selfish, tenderness could become ruthlessness, trust to jealousy. All could be used by a Force user, could be felt and it was only in this way that a Sith could retain some sense of humanity about them. Taeli had no illusions about what she was, what her experiences had shaped her into. The normal ethical and moral codes of the galaxy were not her concerns, but she had created her own system of beliefs to govern her actions and attempt to keep her rampant curiosity in check. Ambitions on the other hand... well she was still Sith.

For Loske and the symbiotic specimen born from HX7, she would need to accept and conquer her fear. She needed to accept that there was no returning to what she had once been, even if in the future she and the symbiote were broken apart. She needed to take that hopeless she was sinking into, the horrible thought that she was losing herself and her past, and crush it beneath her heel as she formed a new identity for herself and the creature desperate to learn about itself and yet influencing its host.

HX7 might have been another experiment with the cells of Tor Valum, but this with Loske and the symbiote... it was something even she had not foreseen. That had almost been the point with the mutative abilities of HX7's cells, that even the Mistress of Monsters as Kaine and some other Sith liked to call her, would not be able to predict how they would react, bond, and alter the DNA and cells of beings they came in contact with. For her, this was something new and her curiosity was sufficiently piqued that she wanted to see them both through this period of rebirth and couldn't wait to see what would emerge from the other side.

There is strength within you. Accept it. Give yourself permission to take it, to use it, and become something the galaxy has never seen before.
 


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WE RISE
OUTER RIM | UPEKZAR | CIRCLE OF VISIONS
I SEE DARKNESS IN YOU

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There is strength within you. Accept it. Give yourself permission to take it, to use it, and become something the galaxy has never seen before.

They accepted, they hungered, they craved. Innovation from emotion, something unseen but remarkable. They would be remarkable. There was infinite potential in this fusion, and despite the Jedi’s initial attempts to withdraw, she was tired and exposed. It felt the Jedi’s resolution breaking. Diluted by the fear mutilated uncertainty wrought.

Loske had been afraid of herself after Yinchorr –– somehow, the symbiote recognized that. It patrolled inside her, looping and connecting through the woman’s infrastructure to try and manifest the ambition Taeli offered. There were memories here, they’d just seen them, but they weren’t as cohesive as she might have prided herself on previously. Her mind was like a melting polar ice cap, various memories drifting in random directions, not really connected in the fluid motion that was typical of sentient species. The further it roamed, the more it realized they had few powers in common. Only telekinesis –– but much of their mutual affinities could be augmented and compounded.

Memories and connections to powers passed by its internal search, teasing and hunting. The host it had selected could destroy it if HX7 wasn’t careful. It had to be careful. It had to be strong, perceptive. It had to harness the emotions that the Lady of Secrets had exploited, harvest, nurture, grow them.

The Jedi’s connection to the light side was strong, not an inclination of evil to be found. Only fear and fear could be derived from love, from memories, from self. The symbiote’s ability to summon these horrors microdose into the woman all throughout their time. Bit by bit, tormenting her to a state of placidity and recession. With her weariness, it followed Raaf’s guidance

It took a dive. And then, together, they were in the centre of an invisible waterfall, a thunderstorm, a tempest. Adrenaline more than conscious will lift them up over their spectral corpses. The closest analogy couldn’t be met –– the Jedi’s brain reached for and rejected, and reached for again, continued to avoid definition. The only distinguishable existence was her own, relative to the one crawling within.

She was aware of her body, the skin, the sinew, the curl of her gut, the nerves firing in her brain, and then became aware of the nerves firing in its..brain? Of its nerves? Of their brain. Of their nerves. All the bacteria on her skin, on their skin, their blood, the virii in her tissues, their tissues, the woman who had been Loske Treicolt became a landscape interwoven with the complex sprawling patterns of the experiment born in Felucia. Cells became molecules –– countless, complex and varied. The demarcation of one thing and another failed. There was only a community of molecules, shifting in a vast dance. And then atoms that made the molecules gave up their space, and she was a breath. A mist akin to the emerald cloud she’d inhaled a timeline ago. A tiny play of fields and interactions in a vacuum of the spiralling vision, a vibration and nothingness. But somehow, together, complete. Built and rebuilt.

In the real world, the manifestation of union rolled onto her side. Something hurt. Everything hurt. She was breathing. They were breathing. They could feel air moving through their throat, and into the complex network of soft caverns behind their ribs. It was strange and beautiful, and in a moment, they realized that time existed. Moments were passing. Bonds were strengthening. They opened their eyes to nothing and everything all at once. A full calibration had been reached. When she stood, they stood. No wobbling, no weakness to be found in their legs. In fact, they felt stronger than before. Amplified in harmony.

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Without thought, a tunnel of tendrils lashed out from the silhouette of her arm –– pounding into the insectoids that surrounded them. They rocked, the impact loosening the impact of the hallucinogenic pheromones. Adrenalized, the monstrous representation pulled and clawed itself between realities. Its own attempt to project hallucinations through Force Fear conflicted with the dreamlike state of the Rhak-skuri. It had distanced itself from the shade of Taeli in its metamorphosis and was eager to exercise.

The body moved, rolling through the motions of experimenting with itself. Loops of purple-black chords rolled across her arms, face, concealing the blonde within. They flexed, feeling the roll of strength. And without much ceremony, the physical self flickered to recreate the instance of travel it had attempted aboard The Redeemer. This time, the physical location of the mutated Jedi swapped from the centre of the volcanic structure to a ledge far enough away to evade the permeating influence of the Rhak-skuri.

In success, they found laughter.

Everything she had stood for was nowhere to be found, and she was alone. Left only with the experiment and the encouragement to embrace and grow. To materialize as the weapon she'd always been purposed for. Humanity and hope weren't her missing pieces, they were holding her back. This was the fulfilment she'd been missing. Purpose. Vision. Something the galaxy had never seen before.

We accept. They found their harmonized voice again, like several gravelly voices managing to synchronize flawlessly. The sound of the Kiffar's accent was drowned by something deeper. An audble representation of their dynamic and the overwhelming influence of darkness in a vessel that had only known the light.


 
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Outer Rim, Upekzar, Circle of Visions
Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
After her last whisper of advice, Taeli pulled back and simply watched the beginning of the melding, of the memories cascading like droplets of the young Jedi's life. Loske wasn't as trained in the Force as she had expected, her strength and commitment to the light notwithstanding, but that was something she was coming to observe about many of these New Jedi Order Knights. Their educations had been skewed somewhat, no doubt fractured when the first iteration broke apart. Many of the Masters of the Jedi had disappeared into exile, devoted themselves to other pursuits for a time, died, or had chosen elsewhere to regroup. It all left Taeli with a quiet realization that many of these Jedi were learning as they went, trying to feel out the proper path, and turning to a zealous but naive crusade.

They had been influenced, to no small degree, to act because the Jedi Masters had not against the Sith and other threats in the galaxy. She felt bad for them, to a point, but as a Sith she couldn't really be disappointed that they were inexperienced. There seemed to be a belief that destroying the Sith Empire would equate to destroying the Sith themselves, but Sith were like mercury. Smashing it sent individual drops everywhere, but eventually, they would form back together into a whole mass. The only question was time.

Taeli pulled completely out of the ritual, her shadowy form returning to her body. Purple eyes opened as Loske and the symbiote were stirring, and she could feel the beginning meld of the two. It would take time, and she was dying to observe and test and push their evolution. There was potential here, unbridled and frightening potential, and Taeli loved nothing more than exploring it. The mutated Jedi and her parasite were testing themselves, feeling their abilities... tendrils lashed out at the rhak-skuri, rending them open in a flash. Their pheromones would dissipate as they died, but Taeli watched in fascination as again she watched them warp to a ledge to move beyond the radius of pheromones that lingered.

We accept. The combined voice of the subject and its host spoke the words... and the Lady of Secrets smiled.
 

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