Private A Candle in the Dark

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

The prisoner was to be moved today and had been confined to the brig for his stay with Valin Zenth . The lights had been kept dim and the environment cold, although he was provided a blanket to keep warm. It would seem they were intent on trying to keep their newfound captive calm. The sound of doors decompressing and pressurizing the room were the first telltale signs that the prisoner was no longer alone. The sound of heels clicking on the cold metal floor of the starship echoed off the barren walls of the brig.

A towering man, nearly the same size as Valin, stood donning white and gold elegant robes and a mask. He had large feathered wings behind him, folded close to his person. The lights of the room flickered on as he approached and stood by the field of the cell.

"Good morning, young one," Matthew greeted from behind his mask, his rich, velvety voice filled with warmth as the blank gaze of the mask settled on the cell's occupant.

"How are you feeling today? Are you hungry?"

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

"How are you feeling today? Are you hungry?"

"Can it, old man!"

Roten stood, pressing his face against the field of the cell, hardly bothered by the slight pain it caused. He gritted his teeth, showing his bared fangs.

"Y'all got some fethin' nerve to yank me out of that arena!" he hissed, electricity crackling between his teeth. "I ain't here to be coddled, ya overgrown porg! If your swampy bantha hide opens this door I'm bitin' your hand off!"

There would be an air of silence for a moment as Roten pulled his face off of the energy field. He took a moment to rub his snout, his ears flattening with irritation as his beady red eyes remained fixed on the strange, giant being. The Bursantian had been trying to ignore his primal instincts for the last day or so...

Maybe that was the weakness that mummified freak saw in him.

"I'm starving," the young pirate muttered through gritted teeth, still clearly angry.

There went his pride.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

Matthew stood poised and still as he listened to the youth. "I can see you're in a poor mood," he observed calmly. "It's unfortunate you're so hungry... I wonder if your attitude were a little better, perhaps they might have given you something to eat. Lashing out has likely discouraged everyone else from wanting to be near you... But that's okay. I'm not afraid of you, little one."

He paused, letting his words settle. "You can't scare me away. But let me make one thing very clear. I will not permit poor behavior. Actions have consequences, both good and bad."

Matthew's voice, though soft, carried a firm resolve. He waited briefly, allowing Roten the opportunity to respond or release more vitriol.

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Roten was very miffed, but he wasn't stupid. It was the same reason he had never challenged the Specter. He knew a stronger foe when he saw them. There was no way he was throwing down with this piece overgrown pillow filling.

"Fine. I'll play nice," Roten spat. "But I ain't gonna be ordered around like a chore boy. I expect to be getting something out of this."

The alien sighed, taking a moment to rub at his shoulders, his clawed hands running through the fluff. This sucked. He hated being cooped up like an animal, and frankly he was tired of people telling him what he had to be. Where he had to be. Why he had to be there. He had hoped being a pirate would allow him the freedom he wanted to get the thrill he so desired...

Even if it had been the choice of his bloodline.

"You got a place to hunt?" the Bursantian asked, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow. "I hunt for my meals. It makes them taste better."

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

Matthew stood tall and still, listening carefully to the youth. "I do not like to repeat myself, so I advise you to listen carefully the first time," he began, his tone even and firm. "Respect works both ways. If you want respect, you will have to give it."

He paused briefly, his voice softening slightly. "Eating is imperative to your health. It is non-negotiable. However, the quality of your meals can greatly improve with your cooperation."

"From this point on, you will be in my care," Matthew continued. "You are my ward now, and you will answer to me whether you want to or not. I can be strict, but I am fair. You are welcome to speak openly to me about all things," he added gently.

"I intend to feed you, but I must process you first. If you misbehave and fight me, your meal will not be enjoyable. If you cooperate, I will afford you the privilege and luxury of a nice meal. Privileges can be earned and they can be taken away. Hunting is a privilege you must earn. I am your provider from this point on.

Understand this: I am now responsible for your well-being. I will provide you with food, clothing, shelter, education, and training. I will ensure you have what you need to grow stronger and healthier. I will see that you have the necessities, including proper clothing and any other essentials you might require. In return, you will follow my rules and respect my authority.

I will be your guide, your teacher, and your protector. You will not have to worry about your basic needs as long as you are in my custody and care. However, I expect a certain level of behavior from you.

My rules for you at the moment are as follows: You are not to leave my sight unless given permission. You must ask me permission for everything and anything before doing it. Respect must be shown at all times. Always tell the truth; lies and deceit will not be tolerated. Aggressive or violent behavior is unacceptable. Follow instructions promptly and without argument. Put in genuine effort in all activities. Speak openly and respectfully about concerns or issues. You will maintain personal hygiene and health. Dedicate time daily to study and training. Treat others with kindness and compassion. Take responsibility for actions and understand their consequences. Manners are a must. If you do not know them, you will be taught. All assignments chores or tasks must be completed in a promptly reasonable time frame. If I lock something, it is meant to remain that way."

Matthew trailed taking his time to speak clearly and slowly so that the youth could follow along. He made no move to release him as of yet.

" Do you understand?"

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Ward.

Roten bristled with fury at the word. Under protection? Never leaving his sight? He gritted his teeth, fighting back the urge to let loose a flurry of insults at the large man. Roten proceeded to sit himself down on the floor, crossing his legs and keeping himself in place.

"Respectfully, sir, leave me here to rot," he stated plainly. "I've done this once before. Sith guard dog, Jedi purse dog... it's all the same to me."

Control. Why was everything out to take his control? He just wanted to live his life the way he wanted to live it, and now some noble with a stick up his rear was insisting on following him around like he was some sort of princess.

The Bursantian sighed, turning his head.

"Basic needs mean nothing if you don't fight for them," the young man added. "I'm not weak... I don't need them..."

He wasn't weak.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

Matthew listened intently to Roten's words, noting the fury and defiance in his voice. He remained calm, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and understanding.

"You think my terms are unjust, then?" Matthew asked, his tone even and measured. "Would a trial by combat satisfy your desire?"

He paused, allowing the weight of his offer to settle in the air. " My name is Matthew. What is your name, little one?"

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

This guy...

Cocky blue blood. Roten knew exactly what he was doing. There was no way in hell he'd win whatever fight he was thrown into. It was all rigged.

"Just let me hunt for my food..." he sighed. "I'll comply with anything you say if you give me that..."

He wasn't taking handouts. He'd rather die.

"Roten..." the Bursantian answered coldly.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

Matthew's mask tilted curiously at the name. "Hmnn..." he trailed softly, considering it. "I'm sorry, but that is not an option presently. You need to show me you can be trusted. Allowing you to hunt would not only present you with an opportunity to try and run away, but it would also put you at risk. I want to ensure your safety as well, and right now, the safest place for you is here under my supervision."

He paused, his voice softening. "However, you've already started to calm down and behave more amicably, and I appreciate your willingness to cooperate. It's a good start, Roten, and it shows me that you are capable of making positive choices. Continue to behave your self and let me process you, and I will reward you and let you hunt. You must promise me you will not run away. Trust works both ways. It is a very precious luxury few can afford. It is like a mirror—once broken, you can try to repair it, but you will forever see those cracks. Does this seem like a fair deal to you, Roten?"

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

"Alright..."

Roten was deadpan now. A fate worse than death. He had to earn the right to hunt for his food, a right that was ingrained in all with carnivorous biology. It was like he was being twisted away from his very nature. Of course, Roten got himself into this mess. Doing jobs for that stupid worm-head was the worst decision he had ever made in his life.

He should've just stayed in the rim.

"I'll do everything you ask of me," he assured, his expression now completely shifted. "But I'll only have nutrient pills until I can hunt again."

And he would earn the right to hunt again if it was the last thing he did.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

"Unfortunately, that is not what I brought for you," Matthew stated simply. He reached into a small inner pocket of his outer robes and retrieved an item, then moved to disengage the field of the cell. "This should tide you over for a few minutes while I process you; Do you have any questions for me, child?" he continued.

He held out the item and looked at Roten expectantly. "Now, please give me your hand," he requested, extending his opposing gloved hand.

 

[Roten]

Space
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

"No questions, sir," Roten grumbled.

How long was this going to last? Months? Years? The alternative was no doubt some kind of humiliating imprisonment or death should he not concede to the demands of his captors. He was a criminal after all. Ultimately it could be worse. Roten had seen what happened to those folks with the bomb collars back on Nimban. Pirates were pirates, but that was a different kind of...

Was he being sympathetic? This place was really starting to worm into his brain.

"Now, please give me your hand,"

"Uh... okay," he frowned, holding out his hand.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

"If you have any questions at any time you are free to ask me. " Matthew assured.
Once Roten complied, Matthew slipped on a body-safe med tracer onto his wrist and locked it in place. It was durable and weatherproof, fitting like a small watch. Lightweight and comfortable, it was designed to be hard to remove, equipped with a secure locking mechanism. "There..." Matthew said, ensuring it was properly fastened.

He then handed Roten a chocolate bar. "You can eat that now if you like," he offered. Taking out a datapad, Matthew jotted down a few notes before slipping it back into his robes. "Come along with me," he instructed, leading Roten out of the cell.

They walked through the corridors of the ship, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the metal walls. As they reached the docking section, Matthew gestured toward a larger, more elegant yacht docked alongside the larger ship.

He led Roten to the docking area, where the airlock connected the two ships. The yacht's sleek design and polished interior were a stark contrast to the utilitarian surroundings of the larger ship. "Welcome aboard the Exonerator." Matthew said, guiding Roten inside. "Would you like to be confined to your quarters or would you like to come to the bridge?"

 

[Roten]

Exonerator
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Roten didn't even flinch at the tracker. That was to be expected. He took the weird bar as well and stuffed it in his pockets, following the large winged man into...

The single most disgusting thing the Bursantian had ever stepped foot into. He grimaced as his bare foot made contact with the polished floor. Where was the dirt? The scratch marks? This was the furthest from organic that he could be, so much so that he began to feel ill. It was like, in this moment specifically, he finally realized he was on a moving ship. His stomach now lurching with the movement.

"Is there dirt anywhere?" he asked, almost sounding shell-shocked. "Grass, rocks... something organic?"

He was not going to live in the filth of nobility. The young man would surely vomit.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten
​

Matthew watched as Roten shoved the chocolate bar into his pocket. "You should eat that now," he suggested simply. "If you keep it in there, it will melt and be not as nice."

He blinked, observing the small creature's dramatic reaction. It was understandable—this environment could be overwhelming, especially if Roten had never experienced anything like it before. The stimulation and visual information might be too much for him all at once.

"We have a biosphere on board, so yes," Matthew assured him. "I will show you to your quarters." He led Roten down carpeted halls, guiding him through the ship.

They arrived at a room, and Matthew walked in first. It was one of the simpler rooms on board, designed with plain, practical decor. The walls were a soft shale gray, and the bedding looked comfortable. There was a couch and a full-length mirror, with a canopy over the bed and a large view window providing a glimpse of the stars outside. The room had no extra commodities; it was one of the rooms designated for uncooperative guests.

"This will be your room," Matthew stated, turning to face Roten. "It's simple, but it's comfortable. You'll find everything you need here. "

 

[Roten]

Exonerator
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

If the skin could be seen below his fur, any melanin would have certainly drained away from it and left him looking ghastly. This place looked like a tomb. He was going to suffocate in here.

"I... surely there's a room with more... I dunno, natural tones to it? Plants?" he grimaced a little, tugging at his top. "I think I'm gonna go stir crazy..."

It was like a padded cell. The grid pattern was infuriating to look at.

Oh, grid.

Roten pulled the weird rectangle out of his pocket, the thing the bird said would melt. The hell did that even mean? He frowned, inspecting the object that he was supposedly given to eat. Could he eat it? It looked like a coaster for holding drinks.

"The fe-" he began, but bit his tongue for a moment to restructure his words. "What is this thing?"

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten ​

"You don't like this room? Well, I suppose we can arrange to give you a different one at some point," Matthew trailed off, thinking. "I would rather you feel comfortable... what do you want in your room?" he asked gently. "I can have a room adjusted to your preferences," he offered lightly.

"It's a candy bar made from chocolate, milk, and sugar," Matthew explained simply, referring to the treat he had given. "It is a sweet treat."

"For now, I want you to get cleaned up and put on some fresh clothes," Matthew stated, his tone firm but kind. "I will arrange to have the tailor to find you suitable shoes. " Matthew stated simply.

 

[Roten]

Exonerator
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Treat... Core world filth. Processed garbage with no inherent value. He'd... suffer through eating that later.

"I don't know, something with a tree or..." he began, trying to collect his scattered thoughts, "Something that doesn't look so lifeless."

He winced at the mention of shoes. Roten cleaned, of course. He hated the filth of pirates, even as he was forced to collaborate with the nastiest bastards in the galaxy. Hygiene was a very important thing, but shoes? That was wrong. Bursantians didn't wear shoes. It felt like his very upbringing was about to be choked out of him.

"My species do not wear shoes," Roten stated. "They hinder our mobility. If I'm separated from the vibrations of the ground below me I'll be impaired."

And he didn't want to be fumbling around like a toddler learning to walk. He had already been humiliated enough.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

TAGS: Roten
​

Matthew considered this for a time. "Alright," he said softly. "I don't want you to feel inherently uneasy. You will need to clean your feet often if you do not wear shoes," he stated simply.

"I will arrange a different room for you. For now, wash up in here and I will send someone to get you," Matthew added.

"You are to stay in here until further notice, so get comfortable," Matthew instructed before departing. It wouldn't be too terribly long before they set out. After three hours of travel time they dropped out of hyper space.

Aurelian was a lush planet located near the Tingle Arm. It boasts sprawling wilds with dense forests, vibrant meadows, and pristine rivers. The atmosphere is breathable, filled with the scent of blooming flora and the sounds of diverse wildlife. The planet is known for its serene beauty, with towering trees draped in vines and a rich canopy that filters sunlight into a dappled dance of light and shadow on the forest floor.

Matthew walked into the room where Roten was staying. The soft light from the window cast a gentle glow across the space, highlighting the clean, minimalist furnishings.

"How are you feeling?" Matthew asked, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "We are on Aurelian. Would you like to go hunting now?"

 

[Roten]

Exonerator
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

It was hard to be comfortable in that short window of time. Roten at the stupid chocolate thing, and even worse seemed to... enjoy it? He'd never admit it out loud, of course. All he really wound up doing was sitting on a chair in front of the window, looking at the stars. Was freedom really something that was real? The Specter said that the Sith grand plan was the path to freedom, only to turn around and make him a glorified errand boy. Now he was in a situation where it seemed apparent, at least in his own logical mind, that he had no control. Even ignoring the fact that he hated the wretch of a woman who bore him, he still became a pirate.

Like she would have wanted.

No... he was a warrior. He was a warrior. Roten only ever fought those who were armed. Clearly trained. He left the dirty work to the slobs... Right? The luxury he found himself in was wrong. It was strange to bathe and still feel unclean. Was it because he saw an over abundance of wealth as blood money?

Or did he secretly see himself for what he was. Perhaps he didn't deserve such things. It still wasn't his style in any case. Every polished stone and glint in metal framing made his fur bristle with frustration. The last thing he needed to be was sued for property damage. Rich and noble types were sure to ring your pockets at the smallest thing from the kind he had met.

"How are you feeling?" Matthew asked, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "We are on Aurelian. Would you like to go hunting now?"

"I'm fine," Roten groaned, "Just-"

Wait.

"Hunting?" he remarked, his brow furrowing. "It hasn't even been a day."

No, there had to be something wrong here. That was wrong. He was lying.

"Are you trying to test me?" the Bursantian asked.