First Reply You call this interrogation? [Open to GA and Jedi]

[Nulgath Zardai]

Nulgath sits cross-legged on the floor of his cell, the cold, featureless walls surrounding him a stark reminder of his captivity. The dim light reflects off stacks of datacrons, datapads, and a few holocrons lined up along the floor, their faint hums and glows illuminating the otherwise dark chamber. The Jedi, whether out of an ironic mercy or a calculated cruelty, have surrounded him with relics of their own order—historical records, treatises on philosophy, and accounts of ancient battles fought for a purity of purpose that has always left him disinterested. Yet now, in the solitude and silence, he reads them all, his mind ravenous for knowledge, even if it is knowledge that repels him.

The powerlessness he experienced on Tython is not lost on him. His separation from the Dark Side had left him weak, vulnerable—forcing him to choose survival over pride. He used to be a Sith Lord and a prominent member within the ranks of the Dark Empire. Remaining with the Jedi was not out of some misguided curiosity but necessity; had he returned to the Dark Empire in this state, he suspected that he would have been a mere subject for their twisted experiments, a resource to exploit rather than a force to respect. He had chosen his captors not out of fear, but with grim practicality, knowing the Jedi would deny him his power without subjecting him to the horrors the Empire would likely inflict. They saw themselves as his moral superiors, assuming his captivity would humble him, blind to the strength he could summon simply by enduring.

They held hope. Something for the time being Nulgath did not understand.

His musings are interrupted as he heard the faint echo of footsteps approaching his cell, the dull thud of each step drawing closer, pausing just outside the door...

But who?

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The sound of Valery's boots was a steady, measured rhythm, each step carrying an unyielding purpose as she moved through the dim hallways toward Nulgath's cell. As the door slid open, she lingered in the doorway for a moment, her silhouette framed by the light behind her, casting her in stark contrast to the shadowed, cramped quarters he now called home. Her gaze took in the scattered datapads, the faint glow of holocrons, the fragments of Jedi teachings that had been left in his possession. It was a curious sight — to see a former Sith Lord surrounded by relics of an order he despised.

Valery finally stepped forward, her expression calm but watchful, every movement composed, betraying nothing of the inner fire that defined her. "Immersing yourself in the teachings of the Jedi, I see," she observed, her voice soft yet edged with quiet authority. There was no hint of mockery, no trace of sympathy — only a genuine curiosity tempered with caution.

She took a step closer, her amber eyes sharp as they studied him, as though searching for something in the deep shadows behind his gaze. "I heard you've met my husband," Valery continued, referring to his encounter with Kahlil Noble .

Now, it was her turn to understand.

"I'd like to understand what happened."

Nulgath Zardai ​

 

[Nulgath Zardai]

Nulgath lifted his head slowly as Valery Noble entered his cell, his glowing green eyes casting an eerie light across the shadowed hollows of his face. He studied her intently, tracing every line of her figure with a mixture of disdain and curiosity, his gaze hollow yet defiant.

With a tired yet sly smile, Nulgath leaned back against the wall, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he regarded her approach. "Ah, the Grandmaster herself deigns to visit her humbled guest," he drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with an exaggerated courtesy, each syllable carefully measured and spoken like a noble man... albeit slightly sarcastic. "And here I thought my accommodations were already... lavish."

He allowed the silence to stretch for a moment, as though savoring some inner monologue only he could hear, before his gaze flicked over the datapads and relics scattered around him. "Your Jedi teachings, Grandmaster, they do make for a charming diversion. Riddled with tales of restraint, compassion and... Well, you know.." His fingers brushed some of the datacrons and holocrons absently. " They say a picture is worth a thousand words, then a reader lives thousand lives...before they die." He smirked and waved the thought away. " Despite the origin I am not the type to reject a healthy distraction." It was the closest thing to a thank you that she or anyone would get from him.

Both hands fell on his temples and pressed softly as if yo relieve something born of internal strife. In truth reading had done much in keeping unwanted thoughts and unwarranted mental connections at bay. While his actions showcased pain, they did little to dull his retorts. " Indeed. I did get rather acquainted with your husband." He responded and then settled.

"I'd like to understand what happened."

That was the question wasn't it?

His gaze grew sharper, assessing, as if he could peel back her intentions with a mere look. From this angle she looked rather imposing to look up at. He let the silence settle between them, stretching it deliberately, before speaking in a tone as smooth as it was piercing. " I'd like to understand what happened. You would like to understand what happened." He repeated and then reframed the sentence as if tasting it. He was stalling. Enjoying talking with someone, just because he could.

" I can only assume you already know what happened. But to understand... Where would you like me to start?" He then closed his eyes.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery let a heavy silence stretch between them, her amber eyes never leaving Nulgath as she weighed each of his words, each pause, and each subtle flicker of defiance on his face. He leaned back with an exaggerated courtesy, but there was something deeper she saw — a guardedness, perhaps even a hint of reluctance to face what he'd become without the Force.

She took a slow step closer, every movement calculated, her presence commanding in the confined space. "You talk about Jedi teachings as if they're no more than tales for amusement," she said, her tone measured. "But even a distraction can challenge a mind like yours, can't it?" She let her words linger, watching as the edges of his mask wavered, just slightly.

"I know what you attempted with the Blackwing virus. The way it ravages life and corrupts everything it touches—" She paused, her voice steeling as she met his gaze, "To unleash it on the Alliance fleet would have been catastrophic, not just for us, but for the Force itself."

Valery took another step, close enough now to see the faint strain in his eyes, the way his hands pressed against his temples. "But it didn't quite go to plan, did it? Now here you are, under Jedi care after you were severed from the Force." She paused again, as her memories reminded her of another such case. Kahlil himself had once turned to the Dark Side, not to ravage worlds or cause torment to innocent people, but to rid himself of an alchemical mark placed upon him by his father.

When he was severed from the Force, he found his way back.

But could the same happen to Nulgath Zardai ?

"I understand how the Light can sever someone from the Dark — I've done this myself. But what I really want to understand is you. Your new perspective."

Nulgath Zardai ​

 

[Nulgath Zardai]

The contrast was strange. Within he felt like a child preparing to be scolded but the situation did not match it. Not from what he saw logically and he had always been more logical than anything else. While it was true that there was a certain power dynamic occurring before him, Nulgath was unable to escape the emotional depth of it and it perplexed him.

"To unleash it on the Alliance fleet would have been catastrophic, not just for us, but for the Force itself."

" Gggaaaahhhh!" He hissed at the accusation based in truth. " I do not like walking with my enemies, I can barely stand keeping allies so close and yet here I sit conversing with you, Grandmaster Noble. Does the force not have a will of its own? Can it not defend itself? Has it not humbled me enough? Spare me your patronage, please."

Pain became him. He felt sorrow and guilt as if he had not in a long time. Not from any physical perspective but from a mental source. He held his temples, fingers and then palms pressing in harder as though they could stave off the rippling, relentless chorus of voices that echoed inside him. A collective of voices. He forced a bitter smile, though there was no mockery left in it now, only the twisted remnants of a man who had once known exactly what he believed. When he opened his eyes again, the faint glow of green was still there, but faded—like embers in ash.

"There was a time when my perspective was as clear as sharpened glass. Power, knowledge—they were the only things worth claiming then, the only truth that mattered to me. I sought secrets, devoured them and all so that nothing in this galaxy could hold sway over me. With time, that me turned into a "We". His eyes betrayed the faintest spark of joy. A hollow flash and he inhaled a unatural breath of air into his body. It was apparent he did not need it but seemed more habitual in function. "You see I was dying and Blackwing... it was always a tool to be wielded, a source of immortality and weapon when needed. It was my promise!" He voiced louder and then looked around the room and let his voice fall down to a whisper. " I would be around forever to protect them. A promise I could not keep even if I tried." His eyes darted, seeking something unknown or unseen and then fell onto Valery Noble 's own.

Another unnatural breath and he forced composure to continue. The words that came out next were almost clinical sounding, but ended with a shakiness reminiscent of a profound regret. "Blackwing or as the Ancient sith called it, The Sickness, offers the user great power at the unspoken cost of ones soul and individuality. Knowing this I prepared accordingly.... The cost being the heart of a powerful force sensitive. Carved out of the chest while still alive and eaten raw before my infection was complete. I had arranged for such a force wielder to be brought to me and...they never came. They never came and I was running out of time. I could not leave my body to the infection just to have my very soul devoured and with it my-" Guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unrelenting, like a beast. He could feel it clawing up his spine, scraping away at whatever pride or resolve he had left. The truth of his actions haunted him, a shadow he could never outrun and his state of undeath had worsened this truth. The very heart he had devoured—the act that had once filled him with twisted triumph—now left an empty, festering wound inside him. He had sacrificed his wife on the altar of power, but the promises that power had whispered to him had turned to ash, leaving only a hollow void.

He murmured, words slipping out before he could stop them. His voice was barely audible, as though he was confessing a sin to the air itself. "A wife and daughter. The only things I thought worth protecting. And in the end… my thirst for power cost me everything. To achieve my strength my ageless form, I devoured the very heart of my wife—thinking, in my arrogance, in my miscalculation, that such power would be enough to shield us all from time itself." He swallowed hard, his voice tight as he went on, haunted and hollowed by the memories. "But I failed them, even in my twisted devotion. I don't know if my daughter is alive, or if my actions have damned her as well. What I do know is this: everything I did, every unforgivable act, was out of a desperation to protect them and further fuel my ascension to be naught but a living god! I would destroy the galaxy if I could just have my family by my side. Indeed! Oh I would. But now? Now, I'm trapped… watching my choices consume me like the undead horde I once sought to command. If the darkside was my drug, then I am its addict and thrived off the euphoria it gave me. That the Sickness gave me."

There was a long, painful silence, his words lingering like ghosts in the air. His green eyes, a sliver of vulnerability piercing through the exhaustion and defiance. "I'm not here because I seek your pity or redemption. I'm here because I've lost any semblance of purpose, and whatever I have left of myself is buried under layers of blood and mistakes that not even I can reconcile. What is there to understand, when the creature you speak to cannot even understand itself?"

He leaned back against the wall, his expression a mask of bitter resignation, his fingers twitching as he fought against the mental strain that had become his constant companion.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery took in his story, her face a mix of compassion and restraint, every word he spoke resonating on a deeper level than she'd anticipated. She understood the lengths one could go to for family — the way love, if unchecked, could pull even the strongest off course. For her, keeping that balance had been as essential as her connection to the Force itself. The need to protect could be so pure yet so dangerously blinding.

How far would she go for Kahlil Noble ? For their children?

After a moment, she finally spoke, her tone gentle yet unwavering. "I won't pretend to understand the depth of your pain, but I know what it feels like to be willing to sacrifice anything for those you love. You wanted power to shield them, to be there forever for them, yet that very drive led to everything slipping away." It was an almost textbook example of a story the Jedi of old would have used to sway members from pursuing attachments.

But stories of love weren't destined to end so.

Her amber gaze softened further, genuine and devoid of judgment. "But purpose doesn't have to remain lost forever. Regret and pain… they can consume you, or they can drive you to something greater." She knew some of his mistakes could not be undone, but there was always a way to change direction in life.

She knew one example better than anybody else.

"You met my husband — son to a Sith Emperor responsible for the deaths of millions. For entire wars that consumed this Galaxy. He was raised within that circle to join his father by his side, and has done many things he regrets now. But he took the difficult path to change and has been the Shield for countless innocents ever since. For a family he holds dear and for people he never met."

She paused, allowing her words to settle in the space between them. "Redemption isn't something that can be handed to you, nor is it what I'm offering. I can't give you purpose," Valery said calmly, "But if there's anything left in you that wants to reclaim a sense of purpose and believes in it, then I will help you."

"Many others will, too."

Nulgath Zardai ​

 

[Nulgath Zardai]

Nulgath's gaze remained fixed on the stone floor, his thoughts a swirling maelstrom of skepticism, confusion, and something faintly unfamiliar—a flicker of curiosity, though it warred with the skepticism his nature bred. The word redemption lingered in his mind like a foreign language, a concept he could scarcely grasp. It sounded like a soothing, idealized fable, hardly more than a Jedi's construct for taming the darkness. He had long believed that the Light was soft, a beacon for the weak and the uncertain. Now, he felt himself contemplating it from an angle he'd never allowed himself to consider: as a beginning, raw and exposed, from which he might somehow rebuild.

He glanced at Valery, her eyes steady and unyielding, the quiet fire in them somehow comforting and unsettling all at once. She had spoken of her husband's path from darkness—how he'd turned his back on it for the sake of others, for those who had once been nothing to him. He'd become a Shield. For a family. For the nameless.

He tilted his head slightly, a broken smirk flickering across his face. "Redemption?" The word felt strange in his mouth, as if it didn't belong to him. "What could a creature like me ever hope to redeem?" His voice was low, marked with disbelief, yet somewhere, in the depths of his suffering, a seed of wonder began to form. Could a life so bloodstained, so ruined, truly be reshaped into something less destructive?

He met Valery's gaze, his own eyes guarded but softened with a rare glimmer of vulnerability. "I don't know what redemption is—not really. I know what it feels like to consume, to take, to sever. I know nothing of what it would mean to… to protect." The words tasted like ash, hollow and uncomfortable, yet he found himself leaning into them, despite himself. They were lies. "To live in the light…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It would be like walking through a dream with my eyes open. I would have to begin… with nothing."

He looked away, a flicker of old pride pushing back the vulnerability he'd let slip. "The idea of starting from scratch—I won't lie. It sounds maddening. But perhaps, in my madness, there is room to learn?" He paused, feeling an unfamiliar pang in his chest—something close to sorrow, softened by an emerging resolve. He then looked at the various jedi informational materials around him. "If I am truly empty… then perhaps I could...." His voice lowered, carrying the weight of his hesitation and doubt. " I don't understand. You speak of a different kind of strength."

But a question lingered on his lips, one he barely dared to voice. "You say others would help. That you would help. But… why? By all means I am still sith, a biological hazard and carrier. Does it not bother you how many ive killed? Do I not deserve death?" His voiced croaked at the final word before he paused, unable to conceal the bitterness tinged with an ember of tentative hope. "What would make the likes of you believe in one such as me? Why do you or anyone else persist? I dont understand."

She stood there like...well a jedi would. Just stood there with that same flicker in the eye. A flicker that mirrored what he saw in Zaiya Ceti amd the other padawan Mahsa . A flicker of something Nulgath did not understand but he had seen before in passing. A part of him hated it and the other wanted to consume it. To understand it and overstand it. He wanted to fully unwrap whatever great mystery that was this phenomenon.

Valery Noble

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery held his gaze, unflinching in the face of his bitterness, her expression steady yet softened with a deep compassion that seemed almost otherworldly in its patience. She could see the battle within him — the clash of skepticism and curiosity, the remnants of pride warring with a budding sense of possibility. To him, redemption was a foreign concept, one he'd dismissed for years as a weakling's fantasy. And yet here he was, daring to consider it, even if only barely.

When he asked why, why she would help, why anyone would persist in trying to see him as anything but a threat, Valery's expression grew thoughtful. She stepped closer, allowing her presence to settle between them like a quiet strength.

"You ask why we would help you, why we would believe in you," she began, her voice warm but unwavering. "But it's not about who you were or the lives you've taken. I won't deny that your actions have left scars, on others and on yourself. And there are many who would argue that you do deserve death for what you've done."

She paused, her amber eyes softening even further. "But as Jedi, we don't believe in punishing those who show even the faintest desire to change. We believe in possibility, in the light within every being, no matter how deeply buried. That's what keeps us standing here with you. That's what we believe in."

Valery let a small, sad smile cross her face as she continued, "Redemption isn't about erasing what you've done. It's not a clean slate. Those memories, the pain you've caused and felt, will always be there. But redemption — true redemption — is the choice to live differently going forward. To use the scars, the suffering, as fuel to help others rather than harm them. It's about becoming the kind of person who might have prevented the tragedies you once caused."

She looked away for a moment, a faint flicker of her own painful memories shadowing her expression. "And as for starting from nothing, that's where we all begin when we choose the path of healing. My husband, Kahlil… he had to face his own darkness alone, severed from the Force, unsure if he'd ever find his way back to me and his child, and to the path he had chosen. He had no guarantees, no certainty, only his own will to do better." She met Nulgath's gaze again, her voice quiet but strong. "Redemption is not a gift. It's a choice. One you would have to make every single day."

Valery let silence settle between them, heavy yet charged with possibility. She could see his pride, his skepticism, the self-loathing that seemed etched into the lines of his face. But beneath it all, she sensed something more — a thread of longing, something that ached for purpose, for connection. For understanding.

"Perhaps you'll never fully understand this kind of strength, this 'flicker' you see in us," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "But maybe, in trying to understand it, you'll discover something within yourself you never knew existed. Something more than the pain and emptiness that's defined you for so long."

Her gaze softened further, filled with both warmth and conviction. "I don't believe you're beyond help, Nulgath. And if you're willing to take even one step toward something different, something better… then I will help you take the next step, and the one after that. You don't have to walk this path alone."

She extended a hand toward him, a silent gesture of solidarity, an offering of hope. "If you're ready to try — not to be forgiven, not to erase the past, but to find purpose again — then I'll be here. And others will too. But only if you choose it."

Nulgath Zardai ​

 

[Nulgath Zardai]

Nulgath's gaze flickered to Valery's outstretched hand, a single, simple gesture heavy with meaning, but suspicion coiled tightly within him. His whole life, trust had been as foreign to him as redemption now seemed, and his instincts screamed that this was some kind of ploy. A Jedi—a sworn enemy—was offering him not death or exile but a hand, a chance. It made no sense. His lips pressed together, a bitter edge curling there as he battled the ingrained wariness that had kept him alive through countless betrayals and power plays. His mind pulled him back to the countless deceptions he'd encountered, the subtle manipulations, the cost of allowing anyone too close. He'd been stripped bare for his ambitions, consumed by his pursuit of power, and conditioned to see compassion as weakness. Redemption, he thought bitterly, the concept still slippery, almost mocking in its simplicity. It wasn't a reward but a path, a choice to live differently. The words reverberated inside him, challenging everything he thought he knew about strength, knowledge, power and control.

His hand twitched, itching to pull back, to refuse her offering as he would an exposed blade. But another part of him, a quiet, painful longing he barely recognized, whispered that perhaps this was worth a risk. That even if he never fully trusted her, he might still walk the path, step by faltering step, and at least discover if there was anything within himself left to salvage. He swallowed, a knot of apprehension tightening in his throat.

He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as his fingers brushed against hers. "I… won't lie to you," he began, his voice low, still edged with his familiar guardedness. "I don't know how to trust." His gaze was sharp, even wary, but something beneath it softened, an unspoken question shimmering in his eyes. "But I've… had nothing but darkness for so long," he admitted, barely above a whisper. "I've clung to it, let it define me, and it's left me hollow." He closed his eyes, feeling a strange, tentative calm that he couldn't place. "I won't pretend to understand what this path is supposed to be. I don't even know if I can walk it. But… I'll take the first step." He swallowed, the weight of those words sinking in as he finally met her gaze again, the old bitterness still lingering but softened by the faintest glimmer of something new.

Valery Noble