Private Wrong Side

[Darth Prazutis]

The double doors slid open with the hiss of hydraulic air.

They opened into an unbelievably massive chamber that stunned thought and trapped air in the lungs to lay eyes on. There were many throne rooms in the galaxy where sovereign rulers sat and held dominion. But this? This was no room fit for a mere mortal. It was fit for a god. It was a grand chamber adorned in great beauty carved into the very walls, all images from sith lore. The centerpiece of the entire chamber was an incredibly large, jagged throne of black stone levitating over a huge qabbrat, flanked by two Sith statues situated on an raised platform above a coreshaft so deep it was as if it was the chaos itself. A large ceraglass viewport sat directly behind the throne with a design akin to a great spider's web. The vast throne platform was connected to the main area by a T-shaped walkway and a steep flight of stairs rising high in the air. ​

The walkway continued around to three different blast doors. Despite its beauty, the magnificence of a true god's throne something felt very wrong in this room. The dark side was thick, overwhelming in its oppression. It raged like a storm against the walls, choking out the air and throttling everything within in corruption. The very air seemed to blur and warble in places with untapped power, while whispers of terror, distant screams, and agonizing cries would ring out low on the air. The very moment crossing the threshold a sickening feeling rose deep in the stomach and bones seemed to ache. It was as if something was tapping into the very strength, the vitality of those who entered and was slowly tearing it from them, killing them by being present.​

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All by his will.​

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In the throne sat none other than the Shadow Hand the Elysian Grandeval Mortarch, a true Dark Lord of the Kainate Darth Prazutis. A colossus of a man he appeared more like a battle-god forged in spilt blood and crushed bone, tempered in the fires of burned planets and extinguished stars. A living storm of death surrounded this titanic figure like the turbulent, wild nature of the chaos itself. The sheer weight of the reaped souls hung on him like a cloak, it shouldn't have been right for something so dark to exist, something so malevolent the lights struggled to illuminate the room. It was as if he was a living nexus in the dark side of the force, the event horizon of a black hole from which all life dies. Everything here eventually came back to him as if he was in control of every facet of this world, like the wheels of fate ceased to turn in his very presence alone. ​

​

This was a true master of the dark side, the epitome of the living tyrants of the Sith that brought the entire galaxy to heel many times over. A voluminous set of black robes covered his form but even then, his face was visible, his eyes burned with such fire they pierced through any shadow. They did nothing to hide the warlord beneath that was ready to slaughter and destroy at any moment. The Imperial Crownguard stood like wraiths in the perimeter of the room clasping weapons tight while a pair of them tossed a limp figure across the floor, into the very center of the room.​

​

It happened without warning.​

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A freighter ripped out of hyperspace like a runner clotheslined mere feet before the finish line. Before precious time could be taken to register what was happening, they were caught by the awesome power of sith destroyers. When the ship was hauled in a horde of monsters stormed the bridge from the darkest pits of the abyss itself. They violently beat all they came across and dragged the raven-haired woman to the center of the ship, there she was forced to watch. These beasts forced her to watch as these monsters violently tore the pilot apart, eating him alive. The poor smuggler died screaming without any idea as to what was happening, or even why today was his time to die. Someone caught in the web of a world he scarcely understood, and he died violently for it. The last thing the woman saw would be a large fist before it struck, and darkness came. She would wake in pain as her body crashed across the hard floor, light blazing in her weary eyes as consciousness started to return.​

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"Your in my world now child. Welcome to the end."​

​

​

Revna ​

 

[Revna]

Darth Prazutis


Revna hated having to have someone else escort her places around the Outer Rim. She had her own ship - thanks to the sacrifice of her former slave master - but she still hadn’t learned how to pilot it herself yet. So many other duties and lessons and whatnot had come up, and there simply hadn’t been the time to learn or be taught how to pilot the starcraft.

So she sat in her typical seat in the now familiar ship that was piloted by one of her favorite smugglers who aided her Master in smuggling slaves to their newfound freedom on Formos. These days, she was busy in the Outer Rim, carrying out tasks for her Master and spreading his vision wherever she went…as was part of her purpose, her duty, as his Disciple.

Thus was the reason why she sat aboard the vessel now, along with four newly freed slaves that she had liberated from a planet not too far from Kainite space. It was risky, but her work was not without its dangers.

Revna made sure the freed slaves were safe and sound and had medical attention if they needed it, and she made sure to give them some emergency rations that were stored on the ship for moments such as this, before she finally allowed herself to sit and relax.

She had just dozed off when an alarm echoed through the ship, and she snapped awake, instantly alert. The ship jostled violently, and immediately her senses told her that danger was near. Ignoring the whimpering slaves who were suddenly terrified, Revna found her way into the cockpit to speak to the smuggler.

“What the kark is going on?”

“I…we were pulled from hyperspace. Ripped, more like. Ship is damaged…” he replied with a tense voice as he scanned various flashing symbols and alerts. Revna’s golden eyes stared out of the glass to see destroyers, and she knew they were not friendly. They were caught in a tractor beam, being pulled in, and there wasn’t much that could be done about it. A probe through the Force confirmed her arising suspicions and fears.

Kainites.

“Oh chit…” she breathed before her gaze snapped to the pilot. “Clear the travel logs now.”

“Should I send a distress signal back to base?”

“No. They cannot discover where we came from or where we are going!” she ordered sharply as she turned away from the pilot, knowing he would obey her without question. If they were going to be boarded or be captured then she was going to do her best to keep the location of Formos a secret. She’d take that information to her grave, if need be. She then moved the freed and frightened slaves to a hidden compartment in the ship itself, before preparing herself for whatever was going to come next.

There was going to be a fight, one she knew she was going to lose…but she had to fight back nonetheless.

The waiting for the inevitable was tense, and the little woman pulled her Force signature as close to herself as possible, almost disappearing. She waited…her heart pounding in her chest, in her head and in her ears…

What came aboard the ship in a hungry fury was the stuff of nightmares. Revna tried to surprise them with Force blasts…only to find that it had little to no effect against these beasts. The scene then descended into chaos as her position was instantly given away, and her Sith blade clashed against the blade of the closest beastial enemy. Her fury was focused, but she knew in her heart that there was no getting out of this. Her agility and flexibility saved her for the moment as she took on several attackers, but one miscalculation was all it took for her to lose the fight. The creatures were immensely powerful, and since they could not be fended off with the Force, she could do little to stop them from dragging her to the floor of the ship, disarming her of her weapon and forcing her into submission.

The frightened, then agonizing screams of the slaves made her heart freeze then sink, and she tried to renew her fight against her captors…but her efforts were in vain.

Revna was dragged to the center of the ship and forced on her knees to watch as the smuggler who had aided her in many secret missions, and even helped her sneak out of Formos from time to time, was torn asunder and eaten in front of her very eyes. His screams filled her soul with deep pain, and with it came a blackened hatred and rage that made her eyes glow a fierce shade of yellow-orange.

She knew this was bad, very bad. And she wasn’t sure if she was going to survive this.

Revna cast her mind, her thoughts, to Darth Strosius …hoping that he would hear her through the Force, through the bond she had gradually built with him in her time of service to him. She didn’t know if it would work, or if he would hear her at all…but she had to try.

-I’ve been compromised. I think Kainites…I’m sorry…-

A heavy fist crashed into her skull not a moment later, and everything snapped out of existence.

---

Her body impacting against a hard surface, and the pain that rippled through her body, was enough to pull the young Sith woman from the depths of the void she had been trapped in. Everything hurt; her limbs, her back, her head…

She groaned, feeling nausea roll through her as her ears rang fiercely and her skull pounded from within. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not since the days of her enslavement. Her most recent memories returned to her sharply, and genuine fear squeezed her heart as her eyes opened, squinting back against harsh light that felt like needles in her eyes. She rolled from her back to her front, grimacing in pain as she pushed herself up on her hands and knees, trying to pull herself together and figure out what the hell had happened. Something wasn’t…right. All around her she felt…something so familiar yet so…beyond her comprehension. The Dark side was here…wherever ‘here’ was...and in such an extreme potency that it made her feel almost crushed beneath it. She shook her head, trying to pull her senses together.

Then she heard a male voice echo out from somewhere before her, speaking to her.

…the end?

She froze in place for a moment, clarity coming back like the crashing of an icy wave, and she forced herself up on her feet to see just who had spoken to her. She cast her gaze around herself warily, taking in her surroundings, before her fiery gaze landed on the source of the palpable Darkness she felt all around her.

…had she seriously been captured…again? By who, this time? It certainly wasn’t Ordo sitting on that jagged throne…

Her pale face, bruised in places, hardened as her golden eyes turned more ember-like in hue. She reached deep and willed her own Darkness to wrap around her, almost as if to shield her from the oppressive weight that was bearing down around her; it didn’t do much good, but at least she felt like she could breathe a little better.

“...the end? Yeah…the end of this lovely conversation. Kark you, whoever you are, and goodbye.” she growled with pained agitation in her voice as she turned her back on the near god-like figure seated on the throne in a blatant sign of disrespect, her eyes searching for a way out.

She had to get out of here. Nothing good was going to come from this, she knew it in her heart, in her soul.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

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The air in the room seemed to shift as the petite apprentice turned her back and defiantly searched for an exit. One was right in front of her of course, the huge set of doors she was brought through. But as she went to make her way towards it something felt very, very wrong. Even as she set her mind on leaving it was like her legs were rooted to the floor, sealed in place. She could feel the muscles tense as she pushed to move them, but nothing seemed to happen. The hairs on the back of ones neck would stand on end as the oppression in the throne room grew to a breaking point then, right before...

It happened quickly.

The first thing the young apprentice would see was the darkness pierced by a deep crimson light that seemed to bathe the entire wall of the chamber. It followed with an explosive shift of dark side power, the ebullient currents surging like a tidal wave towards her. In the reflective glow of the metal, she could briefly see what was happening, just as it might've been too late to do anything about it. Out from the Dark Lord of the Kainate's fingertips sprang an arc of bright crimson lightning. While it was a powerful ability, iconic to the Sith Order. Only two individuals could manifest it at the absolute highest level of its power, akin to the Son of the fabled Mortis Gods, and such power manifested in bright crimson energy. It was agony incarnate that flooded the nerve endings and set them ablaze with pain, it struck in radiant waves that grew worse by every waking moment to levels of blinding.

"As foolishly naive as your master, to think you possess any power here child. You will learn. You live and die in accordance with my design." The Dark Lord raised his pointer finger off the arm rest and spun it in a circle, whipping Revna around to face him. He pulled her closer then and launched her across the floor, utilizing his grip on the woman to force her down into a kneeled position before him. "Your master thinks himself strong, we have extended invitations to him, and he has spat in our faces. So naive to think he can change the world on his own, for this is our world. Know that you will suffer today because of the choices he has made, you will suffer simply because of your allegiance to a fool who cannot protect you, and to an organization of failures. I will see if you yet prove to be anything of worth, or if you are the byproduct of a failure's lectures. Know that I will break you child, I will shatter who you are into a thousand pieces today and there is nothing you can do to stop this fate." The glare from those molten eyes seemed even more threatening now than they did before, as if they were burning a hole clear through her then.

Revna ​

 

[Revna]

Darth Prazutis



Turning her back was unwise, and she knew it. She put an enemy to her back, and now she couldn’t see what he was doing. It was a foolish error on her part, one that she recognized too late. She had hoped to leave before anything else could transpire…but her hope was in vain.

She knew she was in mortal peril, the moment she felt her body seize. She processed this and before she could truly counter it, crimson light flooded the chamber, its bloody hue glinting off the metal. She felt the hairs rise over her body, and sensed the surge of the Dark side, and all she could do was brace herself as the familiar crackling of electricity reached her ears.

Then, the red hued dark energy wrapped itself around her and everything became near unbearable pain. She clenched her jaw as the agony swelled to a crescendo, searing her nerves, making her feel as if the very flesh on her body was being melted away. She endured, though barely, holding on to consciousness through strength of will alone.

In a way, this electric torment reminded her of the pain she had felt in reliving the all too vivid memories of the Mandalorian warrior, Ordo. The feeling of molten beskar being infused into her very bones, rebuilt piece by agonizing piece…her body had ached for days after she had been mercifully released. Strangely enough, Revna turned her mind back to that moment in time…and almost found refuge in those memories of pain. If she could endure that, she could endure this…as horrific her current experience was.

The red lightning that encased her ceased, but before she could even gather her wits about her, or even pull her consciousness back from the brink of darkness, she was being pulled by an invisible force towards the being on the jagged throne, her body flung closer to the very thing she wanted to get away from.

She heard his voice, grating against her ears, her skull. Despite the agony she was in, she heard him…every word. Indignation bubbled up through her, but she could not speak her mind, voice her thoughts, in the moment. But oh she would as soon as she was capable of doing so.

Revna found herself forced to her knees before the throne, before the giant figure seated there. Her fists were clenched and her body trembled as he spoke further words, and she learned of the very reason why she’d been captured in the first place.

…all of this, was to punish her Master? She was being targeted…as a means to get back at him?

For a moment…everything within the small young Sith went blank, went cold and empty. Everything was still, within her and outside of her. Then the rage began to build…a fury so deep, so pure…that it burned away the pain in her body, absorbing it as it fueled the rising Darkness within. Her mostly golden hued eyes flashed to a yellow-orange like hot coals.

She would be damned if she was going to tolerate her Master being disrespected in such a manner, especially through the filthy mouth of their hated enemy. Her anger only mounted further, and she felt power flow through her veins as she reached for the Dark, demanding it obey her and do what she wanted it to do.

No one was going to force her to kneel like this, like she was some weak slave.

Revna gathered her strength from her very core, the greatest she had ever called forth yet in her young life, and infused her own iron will with the power of the Dark that burned like black fire through her, willing a shielding aura to wrap around her like a shroud as she rose to her feet and forced off the tyrant’s hold over her with effort. She stood trembling there before him in her righteous, indignant fury.

Her eyes found his own molten orbs, and she stared back without fear, challenging and defiant.

Dangerous thoughts of recklessly attacking him flooded her mind, whispers of the Darkness urging her to make him pay, but she restrained her violently churning rage, forcing some clarity to come to her, as her Dark aura wrapped around her like roiling angry clouds that come before the storm.

“An ‘organization of failures’?” she hissed, her voice icy cold and laced with venom. “At least my Master and I aren’t a part of a failed Empire in exile, led by failed tyrants. You are nothing but a coward, to strike at a mere apprentice in an attempt to strike at her Master. A low blow, even for a Kainite. What do you hope to accomplish here? Hurt me? Force me to betray him? You are a fool if you believe that. So go ahead, tyrant. Try and break me; your efforts will be in vain. If anything, you’ll only deepen my hatred for you and your filthy kind, and only hasten the slaughter of those who bear the mark of the Kainate. I do not need to prove anything to you - as you are not my Master, and I do not recognize your authority. You are nothing to me.”

She spat on the floor at his feet, before returning her own burning eyes to his.

Revna knew she was going to suffer for her words. But she was not a coward, not even in the face of tyranny or the promise of pain, or even death. Even if these were her last moments alive, she would not go down without a fight. She would make her Master proud of her…even if it meant dying on his behalf, for following and believing in his visions. Things she found worth in…even if others did not. She was his Disciple of Faith, and she would remain that way, faithful and loyal to the end if that’s what it came to.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

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"So go ahead, tyrant. Try and break me; your efforts will be in vain. If anything, you'll only deepen my hatred for you and your filthy kind, and only hasten the slaughter of those who bear the mark of the Kainate. I do not need to prove anything to you - as you are not my Master, and I do not recognize your authority. You are nothing to me."

The Dark Lord of the Kainate leaned forward then and glared down at the raven haired, defiant apprentice who bared teeth against the gods themselves. For the briefest of moments, a twisted grin formed in the fringes of his face then, before disappearing beneath the folds of the hood. Such rare, fresh defiance brought out the cruelty, the malice of the inner Maenan within him. The crazed, depraved culture of hyper, ultra violence for violence's sake, carnage for the utter madness of it. In these moments he saw her for all of her eastern weakness, everything that made her lower than the vermin of this world, it set his muscles alight with the prospect of conflict. "We shall see child. You have little understanding of the world, but I will teach you."

A cloud of swirling shadow descended upon the Mortarch then surrounding the reaper, as it began to clear he looked much different from before. Gone were the flowing, voluminous robes in favor of black trousers and dark boots. To all in the room he was bare chested showing his imposing, immense musculature, the very form of a towering battle god bred and forged for war. A titan covered in innumerable scars, with a tapestry of incredible tattoos covering his fleshy, conflict worn canvas. It was the form of a warlord that soaked the ground with the blood of trillions, who dealt death on a colossal scale and broke planets beneath him. The giant stood from the throne then to his full height, eclipsing eight feet tall and he descended the staircase towards her. This Dark Lord walked with all the inevitability of a tectonic plate, his footfalls echoing loudly within the chamber as he moved into somewhat of a slow, purposeful charge towards her. She would find that impossible force holding her in place then, keeping her from running while the giant approached.

When he finally reached her?

Agony.

The first blow came from a vicious strike across the face with such force, it'd crack the skull and spin the petite woman like a top if it connected. As she spun, he'd snag an arm and forcibly slam her down on her face, bouncing her off the floor before he unleashed a flurry of strikes like falling rain over her back. Each fist came like hammer falls that made a Wookie feel weak, he battered her into bonelessness with crushing blows, each coming with the force of an artillery impact. If it wasn't for the giant holding her down, she might've launched across the room as if recoiling from a bomb blast. Beneath them bones snapped, then shattered and shattered again. The Dark Lord reached for her foot then and if finding purchase, he would spin it with a sickening crunch as he twisted it to face the opposite way. As it spun, he'd pick her up effortlessly as if the young apprentice weighed less than air itself and slam her back down on her back. The giant would stomp down on her remaining good knee and if it connected, it'd crack loudly, then break as he leaned his full bulk over it.

"I have seen even gods break before me child. You are nothing." The Dark Lord held an outstretched hand over her then and once more that dark power surged in a tidal wave. It began to glow a cerulean blue as the dark side was conjured into the physical world, manifesting as hungry, azure flame. "Less than nothing." He unleashed a large gout of fire then to burn Revna Sharr alive. Some dark power would keep her awake and conscious, unable to fade as his malice descended like a vice grip.

Revna ​

 

[Revna]

Darth Prazutis


Anger-filled eyes watched the tyrant lean forward on his throne as a cruel smirk danced over his face ever so briefly, and the little woman felt a tingle of warning run down her spine. His words that she understood little of the world and that he would teach her echoed forth, a promise and a threat all rolled into one, and she knew with every fiber of her being that there was going to be hell to pay for her defiant, anger-driven words.

It was far too late to take back the words she had spoken, and she could almost feel her conscience sigh in disappointment of her choices, her words, her actions.

You will never amount to anything if you get yourself killed - came its whisper through her mind and through her spirit.

Revna watched the figure before her become wrapped in shadow, and she took a cautious step backwards, the warning sensation within her rising further. She struggled against her need to flee, to live…and to stand her ground and face whatever was going to come, out of need to prove that she wasn’t a coward in the face of certain death or suffering.

When the darkness disappeared, the little woman was greeted with a sight that made her question a lot of things. Somehow, this towering figure had morphed from one figure to another. He’d been robed before, but now he was bare chested and had the situation not been so dire or the tension so thick, she might have raised an eyebrow in appreciation. Instead, the sensation of warning and danger only grew more intense.

Revna knew the storm was coming for her when he rose to his feet and began a methodical and calculated march towards her. She silently cursed her foolishness; who was she to think that she could stand up against a damn behemoth like this? If he didn’t kill her within the next few moments, then she was certain she was going to wish she was dead.

She couldn’t fight him, she knew that to the deepest parts of her soul. The only thing she knew she could do was try and survive. But she had to prepare herself for whatever was to come; life and death often started in the mind. When the will to live was lost and the mind accepted the finality of death, then the body quickly followed. But if she steeled her mind and her resolve to live, then she just might make it out to see the other side of this.

The little Sith knew she needed to make a decision on what she was going to do, and fast. He wasn’t slowing his approach and the distance between was being cut rapidly. As much as she hated the thought of this, she knew her only chance of making it out of this alive was through evasion.

She tried to move to put distance between them, and found herself frozen in place again. You’ve got to be fething kidding me - she internally growled as a churning mix of emotions erupted through her: fear, anger, sorrow, regret…

Revna threw all of her will, her might, against the vice-like, invisible hold upon her - seeking to weaken it just enough to allow her to wriggle out of her dire situation. She knew that if he got his hands upon her, it would be all over for her. The window of delaying the inevitable was closing so rapidly, and as he moved to deliver a heavy blow, she felt the faintest slip in the hold on her, but it was too little too late.

The young Sith turned her body to allow her shoulder to take the devastating blow instead of her face, and she felt the white hot pain of bone shattering tear through her. The impact was violent enough to send her to the ground, her right arm rendered useless. She used the momentum of the blow to roll when she hit the ground, her teeth grinding against the agonizing sensation of bone on bone as more pain rippled through her, though she forced herself through it and used the momentum to further propel her to her feet and spin to narrowly avoid his grasp as he reached to grab a hold of her, using her agility and quick reaction time to her advantage.

It would be the only advantage she would have in this.

Revna whipped back around to keep the towering, muscle-bound and scarred titan within her line of sight, and realized that he was far too close for comfort. In perhaps a foolish move on her part, driven by a surge of spite instead of common sense, she jumped to deliver a Force imbued kick at his closest hand and arm as a snarl of pain fueled aggression and hate contorted her partially bruised yet still pale face.

It was a grave mistake on her part, for it gave him the perfect opportunity to snag a hold of her and slam her back to the ground with the sickening crack of bone. She was on her back now, the wind knocked from her diaphragm completely, and she knew multiple ribs were broken simply from the impact, and near paralyzing pain rippled up and down her spine, further stealing the breath from her lungs.

The tyrant was on her in a flash, using his might to pin her so she couldn’t slip from his grasp again. Further agony rolled over her as he cracked one of her knees, breaking the bone and the tendons completely as he pressed his weight over it.

Revna was in the most vulnerable position she could be in, on her back looking up at the giant whose very presence was an undeniable threat to her very existence. Her molten eyes filled with defiance and spite and hate and seething rage stared back at him as she felt the Dark surge through every fiber, every muscle, every vein and tendon…drawing upon the pain she was experiencing to further strengthen her and the grasp of the power she had at her disposal. There was immense power there brewing within her like a blackened storm…yet so much of it was untapped potential.

The titan who bore down upon her spoke once more, his words only fanning the flames of her fury and disgust of him.

“Even the lesser of us still bite back!” she snarled viciously as she watched as he stretched out a hand toward her, and she felt the Dark side move like a tidal wave, swirling and rushing about him with undeniable power and strength, something she was envious of even while in the throes of her hatred. Flame of deep blue began to form in his hand, and she felt her own power surge through her limbs as her anger and hate gave way to sudden and near paralyzing fear as it clicked in her mind that he meant to burn her alive.

This was it, she mused quietly to herself. She was going to die here. But if she was going to go out like this, then she was going to do so while feeling the Dark power surge through her body once more. Her undamaged arm and hand lifted and she channeled everything she had within her to that point, violet hued bluish electricity arcing from her hand in a powerful burst of Force lightning just as the azure flame descended upon her. She attempted to deflect as much of it as possible with the invisible shield made from her stubborn will, but the flames still reached through to sear and burn at her. It was a conflict of wills, both powerful in their own unique ways, yet the might of the tyrant eclipsed hers and she could do nothing except give way to his might.

The dark power of the titan prevented her from slipping into death, and Revna for her part refused to relinquish her life, holding onto it with a fierce tenacity that seemed to defy all odds stacked against her.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​

When the end came it appeared as if the young woman would burn with a snarl on her face, her entire body glowed with the cerulean light of fire. Until she showed him something he didn't expect out of her. Grit. In the face of annihilation true strength was unleashed when the raven-haired apprentice thrust a hand forward and unleashed a wave of power all her own. The shadows encroaching around them were thrown into disarray when the arcs of azure lightning exploded into realspace. They formed ghastly dancing shadows over the floors and up a way on the wall itself, while the air reeked of ozone. The force of the blast split the gout of flame in two, forcing it to pour down on the floors on either side of her. The sheer heat of the flame was enough to scald the flesh by mere proximity. It was truly a testament to the construction of this place that the floors didn't melt beneath its fury. They began to superheat, glowing a brightening orange as Revna furiously denied the fate before her.

In those moments she would regain sight of the Dark Lord of the Kainate, the Mortarch consigning her to pure agony. After the initial blast he'd vanished from view in the throes of power itself. But through sheer force of will and her own hidden power, it was as if Revna forced the giant to reappear and face her. She could see those eyes burning with molten fury, yet she watched the utter apathy on his face. It was as if the Dark Lord couldn't care less what was happening to her, if he'd killed her here would he even bat an eye? The true question would be if she died here - would he allow her to fall? It seemed for a few passing moments that Reyna would deny her fate as she was spared the fire. "How interesting. An impressive display child, but not enough." It spoke to her strength in the force that she was able to manifest such power at all here, without getting swallowed up by the dark. It took years to control one's power enough to harness the overwhelming darkness. Malsheem reverberated with dark side energy, and his throne room was a focal point for the gathering storm.

That was all she would get from him as his power surged and he disappeared in fire.

The malevolent, dancing flames exploded breaking through her defiance they devoured the lightning until the fire consumed her entire body then. The stench of burning flesh filled the air with new, agonized screams. It should've been by all accounts a horrible death, writhing in agony on the floor while the darkness consumed her, burning her fair skin black and scorching the hair off of her skull. Fire brought a cleansing fury that fused her clothes and skin together, melting them into one horrific mass of charred flesh. Despite the pain she felt it was as if she was forced to feel every bit of it, she was denied the peace of unconsciousness - and the tranquility of death. The Deathless Lord held the woman's fate in his iron fist, and he refused to let her slip to the realms beyond, he held her within her own body. In fact, the pain continued when she would feel herself being lifted into the air, as the Shadow Hand utilized the force to lift her high. A set of black chains wrapped themselves around each arm so tight they bit deep into the charred flesh. "Resistance is futile child. Your place in this world is on your knees before your betters." The Shadow Hand would attempt to use the force to snap every bone in her spinal cord then.

"You will tell me everything I need to know about Darth Strosius and his operations, where he feels safe or I will take it from you."

Revna ​

 

[Revna]

Darth Prazutis


The Dark side was as beautiful as it was devastating.

It was more than devastating. There was no real comparison to it. What seemed like so long ago now, Revna had been new to the idea of the Force, the Dark side. Now she was conjuring Force lightning in a last, desperate attempt to fend off the thing that ignited not only her defiant rage but also her deepest fears.

Her ability to conjure the lightning seemed to have caught the tyrant’s notice…if only briefly. The fact that she was able to do it at all surprised even her…but it was a testament to the hard work and diligence and her insatiable hunger to learn more about the Force and rise in her strength in it. But even then, her strength did not compare to the raw power of the man before her.

Envy burned in her rage filled eyes as he disappeared behind his gout of flame and his strength overwhelmed her own. She braced herself as best she could against the hell that was about to wash over her, but one could never prepare themselves enough when faced with burning to death.

Her roar of rage turned to a scream of agony, until the heat that ravaged her burned the air from her lungs and seared her vocal cords beyond recognition. She expected her nerve endings to vaporize and for her to be released from the agony that consumed her…yet relief never came. It was just pain…pure and unadulterated pain…unending. Death should have come to her; no mere mortal could have survived such horror, such suffering.

But neither she nor the dark tyrant who was burning her alive were mere mortals. They were creatures born and bred for Darkness, molded and shaped by it. The Force elevated them to powers and abilities that others did not have.

Their blessings, as her Master called the Force, the Dark side.

Eventually…she registered herself being lifted into the air, and further pain rippled into the burned flesh of her arms as chains held her aloft. She didn’t need to see her appearance to know that she wouldn’t be recognizable to anyone she knew. What was once beautiful was now marred beyond recognition.

It was at this point in time that Revna pulled herself inward to reflect on everything that had transpired. Though her emotions flooded through her and ran rampant, the more logical part of her brain understood that all of this…could have been avoided.

Once again, her defiant nature had brought her to suffering. And it was far greater than anything she had ever experienced.

And she was only alive right now because the behemoth before her refused to let her die.

She was thankful for it, in a way. She didn’t desire death for herself, not even now when all she knew was pain. But she didn’t know how long she had left before he grew tired of her and cut her down. Clearly he had a purpose for her. And that purpose revealed itself when she heard his voice grate into her ears, or what was left of them.

The young Sith would have growled and spat at him again had she been able to. On her knees before her betters?!

The only “better” she had was the Dark side itself, and it was the only thing that deserved her worship, her devotion. Hatred burned within her, just like the fire that had burned and consumed her flesh. She now burned within and without. Was her existence meant to be nothing but fire?

She felt the Force grip her spine, starting low, and with a simple snap of bone, she lost feeling to her legs. That filled her with a different kind of fear and indignant anger, and at that point…she’d had enough. Time to play along and go with the demands; this was not a fight she was going to win. Not now, at least.

Her ability to speak aloud was gone from her…but she smiled internally. The Sith Empress, Srina Talon , had taught her the art of telepathy. And oh how thankful she was to that beautiful wintry woman for teaching her such a thing. Oh if she ever learned of what transpired to Revna here…

-ENOUGH!- she roared through her telepathy, directed at the tyrant, throwing all of her energy into it so he would hear her. She couldn’t speak aloud, so she prayed he would allow the communication. He would have no choice, if he wanted her to tell him things. -I yield-

His next words…a demand…made her sick. This was the crossroads she had been waiting for…the whole purpose behind why she had been taken in the first place. He wanted to know about her Master’s operations, his bases of operation. She was silent, heaving in agonized breaths, feeling as if the fires were still burning her lungs. Revna pondered what she was going to do next. If she answered him…she would be betraying the man who had brought her under his wing, who had given her everything.

Who had become her Father. She might have considered betraying a Master, had he been just any one of the many Sith Lords that populated the Sith Order, and the Empire. But those she called her family? She couldn't betray that...

A thought seeped into her mind: would she be betraying him…if she only told the tyrant before her what was public information? A gamble worth taking, she decided. There was silence for a few more heartbeats…pulses that should have been impossible.

She knew what she had to do, but she loathed every moment of it.

-Darth Strosius is the Lord Inquisitor of the Sith Order. He has his base of operation on Faldos. He works to bring those who are disloyal to the Sith to their knees, execute them if necessary. He is allowed to operate in, through, and by the Sith Order. The Sith Emperor has…allowed him to continue his operations without disruption. Just like the Emperor allows you Kainites to exist in the same galaxy as him without total annihilation-

A few heartbeats later, she continued, her mental voice toneless as she carefully kept all hints of anger, hate, and defiance out of it: -It is no secret that he hates criminals and scum and slavers. He destroys any and all he comes across. And he has taught me to do the same. That is all I know, Dark One. Take it or leave it-