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  1. #131
    Siralai Mahr

    Siralai turned to Arksynn as a thought belatedly occurred to her. "If you have any belongings here that you wish to retrieve - or know of anything Reyth left that she'll want to keep - you should take a moment to gather them. I assume it goes without saying that you should do so as quickly as possible."

    When they emerged from the building, Siralai breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that Trystan had managed to land the ship on a flat terrace a short distance away. She was proud of her husband's piloting skill; it wouldn't have been easy to put that ship down so precisely in an urban center. And she was also glad Pyrran had made the suggestion that they include a pilot in the mission. It was paying off. Of course, the risky landing was a trade-off, too, because it would draw attention quickly. They would have to move fast, to get away in time.

    Easier said than done... particularly when the courtyard suddenly began filling with a line of Imperial troops, standing between them and their destination.

    Siralai drew her lightsaber and took a breath. She hated cutting down Imperial soldiers like so much fodder. Not because it was difficult - taking life was far too easy, from a purely physical standpoint. But because every enemy was a life like Trystan's. A person. Someone important. Maybe a conscript, maybe someone who knew no other way of life. Someone who should have had a chance. She had to stop seeing Trystan's face in her mind, when she looked at each of them. But sometimes the killing had to be done. They had lives to save.

    "Stand aside!" Siralai called, as if she expected to be obeyed. She wasn't - nor did she really think it was likely. "No one has to die, if you just allow us to pass."

    None of the soldiers moved. And now their apparent leader, a Pureblood Sith, stepped to the front of the formation. Siralai was about to address him - but Pyrran spoke first.


    The Sith fixed Pyrran with a glare. "So the rumors are true. My useless, worthless son proves his lack of value once again. When I heard that you were cavorting around the city with slaves and Jedi, I thought even you wouldn't stoop so low. Clearly I was mistaken. I have never been more disappointed in you... and that's saying a lot, in the face of the constant disappointments. I think I sold the wrong ones of my children into slavery..."

    As he spoke, Pyrran seemed to deflate. He'd heard these words often enough - but now his friends, people he respected, were hearing them too. Now they too would know his own father thought him worthless. But then something else caught him up short...

    "Sold...?" Pyrran demanded angrily. "You sold them, Father?! All those years I spent searching for them, I thought they had just been taken by chance, but it was you...?"

    "Of course it was me. You stupid boy. You can't imagine random slavers would go after Purebloods of our noble standing? I can't believe you were too foolish or blind to figure that out."

    "How could you? To your own daughters!" Pyrran was outraged, and horrified - but he had to admit, it fit. It all fit. Now he knew why his father had been absent when the twins were taken. Pyrran had been left alone to try to fight the slavers, and had been left with only scars on his face and missing sisters when he lost the fight. Now he knew why he was the only one in the family trying to get the girls back.

    "Yes, I sold them. They were a reminder of the loss of your mother, and it was a way to be sure I was rid of them. They didn't deserve the honor of Korriban. Nor, it appears, did you." His eyes drifted to Vette. "And let me guess. Darth Baras warned me you'd been up to hanky panky with Twi'leks. Is this the little tramp? What do you really think of my pathetic son, girl?"

    Vette was puffed up like an angry cat. She knew she was being baited - but couldn't resist rising to it. "He isn't pathetic! He's a better man than you."

    The elder Sith lord laughed. "He's scarcely a man at all. He's never been strong enough to get out from under my boot. You like the scars on his back? Those are from my belt. Just a little reminder for him to carry..."

    "Enough!" Siralai shouted. Delay could sometimes serve to reveal an enemy's weakness, but in this case there seemed nothing to be gained by letting this Sith hurl endless insults at Pyrran. She just hoped that the young man didn't mind that his father was about to die. She sprinted forward, and her gold lightsaber blade locked with the Sith's red one.
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; Yesterday at 04:22 PM.
    "Sleep to dream, and we dream to live..." -Great Big Sea

  2. #132
    Count / Countess Quaxo9 is offline Quaxo9's Avatar
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    Jun 2004
    The Great White North
    Teizi Lin and Arksynn

    When Siralai suggested he retrieve any of his and Reyth's belongings, he gave a little shrug and appeared content to stand and wait for the group to get underway. He and Reyth didn't have anything other than the clothes on their backs and their lightsabers. They'd learned early on that any possession they had became twisted, used or broken by their master, so they'd simply given up on having anything of personal significance. There was something he needed to do before he left, though.

    The others had gone into the corridor, and Arksynn alone remained at the opening to the main room - poised as if he stood at the maw of a great beast. The machine had to go. No more experiments. He threw his lightsaber into the invisible beams holding the great artifact in place. Again and again, he tossed it, hearing the blade strike against metal until with a great groan, the machine finally gave way to gravity. He ran blindly down the corridor even as the thunderous crash reverberated through the plating all around him and the golden flare of a fire lit up the darkness behind him.

    Once outside, he ran to catch up with the group, blade still drawn. He saw the soldiers before he saw their ship waiting for them - so close - and now another barrier. Teizi drew up near Cheketta, taking his shoulder and guiding him away from Pyrran to a bench just a little behind them. Here, she set down her burden, slipping the knot over her head and laying Neva's head on Cheketta's lap. It was a defensible position - the back of the bench area was closed off by a statue, leaving access only from the front.

    A group of six troopers broke off from the main line, rifles at the ready, when they saw the Jedi take a knee. They assumed she was getting ready to admit defeat - after all, their little group was outnumbered and on enemy territory. Teizi felt their approach, but turned to Arksynn instead.

    "Arksynn. I need you to block any stray shots - we came this far - we must protect the people we came to save."

    The young Zabrak looked insulted to be given orders and opened his mouth to reply that maybe she was the one who should stay behind, but she was gone. Without lifting her head, Teizi Force-leapt into the group of soldiers and in one smooth movement, brought her blades to bear in a sweeping arc of light. Four soldiers went down, the next two were dispatched with raw efficiency before she jumped ahead into the main line of troops. These soldiers might not interrupt a fight between a Sith lord and his quarry, but she couldn't be certain that they wouldn't mow down the rest of them or simply shoot the enemy combattants in the back.

    It was her job to make sure their fire was centred on her. She blocked blaster fire from behind as she put her left blade through another man, then swept her blades around her to produce a short-lived shield. It would have to be enough. In order to draw their fire, she needed to appear as the greatest threat, which meant she needed to engage as many as possible in as short of time as possible. In two jumps, she had attacked the middle and opposing flanks of the squadron. Chaos erupted as friendly blaster rifle fire took down soldiers in between Teizi's strikes.
    Winner of the dubious Vaarsuvius Award for Verbousness!

    I support altruism.

  3. #133
    Pyrran Onyk

    Pyrran wasn't going to leave Siralai to face his father alone. Teizi seemed to have the troopers well in hand, and Arksynn was protecting Neva and Cheketta, so Pyrran was free to jump into the fray. His red lightsabers matched his father's, but his visage didn't - Pyrran was angry, while his father merely sneered.

    The sneer faded when Pyrran and Siralai got the upper hand. Pyrran knew what he had to do. This responsibility was his, not Siralai's. He had to take the accounting, on his sisters' behalf - and on his own. The man who had beaten and belittled Pyrran for his whole childhood could not win this final battle.

    Pyrran tried to think of some good last words before striking the final blow, but nothing came to mind. No pithy statement would be sufficient to cover the years of pain, all the damage done to his psyche. So Pyrran said nothing. He just plunged his blade into his father's chest, as he and Siralai gained the upper hand.

    His father's expression combined shock, horror, and rage. "Foolish boy! You will never..."

    The elder Sith lord's hands moved. Even as he drew his own last breath, he channeled what remained of his energy into using the Force to break off a chunk of masonry from the nearby building and ram it into Pyrran, catching the younger man in the chest with the massive piece of stone while hurling him against the wall. Pyrran collapsed in a heap as his father's life ended.

    Siralai and Vette both ran to him; Siralai made it there first and knelt beside him. Pyrran met her eyes and smiled. He wished Siralai was his mother. She had been so kind to him, unlike the distant maternal presence in his own childhood. His life would have been so different...

    Then Vette was with them too. His sweet, beloved Vette - who had no idea she was beloved.

    "Please!" Vette told Siralai frantically. "I know Jedi aren't supposed to help Sith, but please..."

    Siralai had started healing him before Vette even finished speaking. "You don't have to beg, Vette. Of course I'll help. Hang in there, Pyrran."

    Pyrran thought surely he was going to die. Siralai's healing took the edge off the pain, but he knew there was a lot of damage. He had crushed ribs... and surely much worse internal damage. But at least he could die happy. Everyone he loved was finally safe.

    He met Vette's eyes. "I love you," he whispered. "You don't have to love me back. I just wanted you to know."

    "But I do..." Vette whispered back. She leaned down and kissed him. Pyrran was smiling as he faded into unconsciousness.

    Siralai kept healing the young Sith lord as Vette looked on. The former Jedi was very conscious of how short their time was. As soon as Pyrran was stable enough to move, she said, "Let's get to the ship. I can finish there."

    With all their injured people, the trip to the ship wasn't smooth or impressive, but they made it. Siralai breathed a sigh of relief when they were airborne and the lights of Dromund Kaas were fading away behind them.

    It was clear that Neva needed the Kolto tank. Pyrran was given the nearby medical bed. Once their course was locked in, Trystan allowed himself a brief moment to check on their wounded. It was during that brief stop that Pyrran happened to open his eyes - barely conscious, still very confused.

    "Dad...?" he said softly, before slipping away again.

    Trystan nodded and squeezed the young man's hand. "I'm here," he said. Noting Vette's quizzical gaze, he explained with faint embarrassment, "I know he doesn't realize it's me. I know he's asking for his actual father. But I thought it might be a comfort if I..."

    Vette shook her head, still looking at the two of them. "Nope, he's not. He knows who you are. He always called the other guy 'Father.' Never 'Dad.'"

    This brought Trystan up short. For a moment, he was silent. Then he took Pyrran's hand again. "I'm here, son," he said.
    Last edited by Monkey Kitty; Today at 08:49 PM.

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