Private Beyond the Stars, Forevermore

[Dax Perl]

Location: The Verdict, in orbit above Akarui

The lights of the Dar'Itah class battlecruiser had all but died out. Only a few scattered lights in the hangar as the last of Dax's companions departed. The light of their thrusters trailed across the viewport of the darkened bridge, tracing the ending of one chapter, and the beginnings of some dozen others across the dark-side of Akarui. A subtle sliver of golden light gently cupped one edge of the planet, signalling the beginning of a new day in one city, and the end in another.

Ojo would be retiring to her room about now, Dax thought. She'd seemed tired, when Dax had ended the holo with her just moments ago. Tired, but well. His youngest daughter had grown into her role as the Emperess of the Akaran Empire well. She'd become image of both power and grace. The epitome of Akaran values, just like her mother had been.

Oji had refused to speak to Dax though. Declined his call, in fact. The boy- the young man still resented his step-father, the truth of what had transpired between his father and Dax having driven a wedge between them, despite Dax and Nate having buried the hatchet decades ago. Dax had hoped to earn Oji's forgiveness one day. Maybe he'd understand, some day.

Dax couldn't recall the last time he'd seen Tsubasa. Some days, when he thought of her, he'd still imagined that scared little girl he and Kimiko had rescued from the massacre on Myrkr. But today she was an ace pilot of the Alliance. Confident, unapologetic. He couldn't be prouder.

That only left one of the kids left. The holo was answered almost immediately, a young zeltron woman appearing within Dax's view. She was wearing a pair of cargo pants, pockets and bands filled with tools, and a dirty tank top. Her hair, cut into a bob, perfectly framed her face, which sported smear of grease on her cheek. She might not have been Dax's flesh and blood, but she truly was his daughter. She'd taken after him more than he'd thought, in fact. Though maybe he could've done without the smuggling gig she was currently working.

"Hey dad, what's up?"
"Saya," Dax replied with a smile. "Just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. It's been a while since we last talked."
The zeltron's eyebrow quirked upwards. "Oh? Well, I mean things are good right now. I mean, we haven't had any big runs lately, and the Purr," Saya pointed behind her with a wrench at a ship that Dax couldn't see, "has more problems that an old X-Wing that's been left in a swamp for a few decades, but I'm keeping her together." Saya shrugged. "So I guess you could say I'm stayin' busy."
"Busy-"
"Busy is good, I know, I know," Saya rolled her eyes.
Dax could only chuckle. "What about you and that girl? Have you two-"
"Dad! Shush!" Saya appeared to be looking around herself, looking for any eavesdroppers. "We're just friends, alright?" the zeltron hissed.
"Sure, sure."
Dax could feel Saya's withering gaze, even through the holo.
"Well, I gotta get back to work if I wanna get the Purr ready for our next job. We'll talk later?"
"Yeah, sure. I love you, kiddo."
"Love you too, dad."

The zeltron gave a mock salute to Dax, the same salute he'd always used, before hanging up. Dax's smile slowly faded from his face.
"You didn't tell them?"
"No."
Brill let out a deep sigh as she stepped forward, standing next to Dax, and looked down upon Akarui. "I'm not looking forward to breaking the news to them..."
"I'd tell Tsubasa first," Dax advised. "She's always been better at knowing how to tell the others about this kinda stuff." She'd handled Kimiko's death better than any of them. Sometimes, Dax worried that she didn't rely on others enough. On her family.
"You sure I can't talk you into waiting another decade or five?"
"Ha. Yeah, I'm sure."
From the corner of his eye, Dax saw Brill's head dip slightly. Silence passed between them for a while before: "Well," Brill's back visibly straightened. "This is it then." She turned, military-like, and thrust her hand out towards Dax. "It's been an honor, Marshal."

---

I looked down at the hand that Brill offered me. How many files and forms and what else had those hands handled for me over the years, I didn't even want to think about. It might've just been a job, but she'd always gone above and beyond. And here she still was, even years after the Judges, the OPA, and everyone else had faded away, never asking for a thing. I took her hand, and pulled her into a hug instead. "The honor has always been mine, Deputy Brill."

When Brill finally left the bridge, I listened to her boots as she walked away. There'd only been one pause. I didn't look. Maybe I should have, but I didn't. Maybe because I felt a little ashamed. Ashamed that I'd never truly shown her my appreciation. I suppose my old slugthrower, and the marshal's badge I'd left in her ship would have to do.

The doors hissed close behind me, and minutes later I watched as Brill's ship also left, flying by close enough that I could see her wave to me from the cockpit, before jumping into hyperspace. To bigger and better things.

I stretched my neck, and rolled my shoulders, before waving my hand over one of the ship's consoles. The Verdict woke up, but she was still groggy. She was old now, after all. Just a little more though, and she could rest. One more jump, one last adventure. "Our friend should be on his way by now." Moreth's saber, hanging from my hip, suddenly felt warm. Comfortably so. It was the kind of quiet anticipation I'd become used to whenever the crystal knew a good fight was coming.

I reached into my jacket, into the pocket, feeling for the picture I always stored there. My finger's brushed against the flimsy, age-worn paper. "And then, we'll be together again."

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It simply was his sordid luck that would find the Vector transporting him almost entirely in the opposite direction of which he had intended, yet, for all the prizes that might have waited for him, he could not ignore it, as much as part of him was altogether far too suspicious that this was a trap. Yet, there was too the part of him, perhaps even accurately to be said the majority of him that had led him to each and every tumult and crisis of his life.

The one which with boldness that was only rivalled by stupidity had led him charging into risk and danger with an immeasurable confidence that he would come out the victor.

It had not failed him yet.

But of course, in a thousand victories, he only needed one defeat for it all to come crumbling down, and it was not as if Darth Malum of House Marr was a stranger to defeat... he remembered them all too enduringly, closing his eyes was enough reminder of all the various thousand moments in his life where carelessness, a lack of skill, or simply unfortunateness had brought him to the maw of annihilation.

So why did he fail to learn from this time and time again? Why did he embark on yet another risk that may not yet promise him his demise, but at the very least whispered it? Did he so find the prizes promised to him worth the mortality of this singular life? Did he gaze upon the lustre of the accomplishment of this objective? At the glory of the completion of this quest as worth the prize of what would come?

The fact he could not tell, did not fill him with much of any confidence.

He supposed he was not flying towards potential doom without any recourse. Sitting upon the bridge of the Ragathor, his arms crossed, gazing as a hundred different stars passed him by as they crossed the hyperspace tunnel. Not only was the Alvaria to be coming with him, but so had he on the return of the fleet to Alvaria proper, he had ordered the preparations for the sally of the Mors Vistra. The vessel had not seen combat since Fiviune, constantly under maintenance for all the power which it held, but he knew, if there was any vessel in his arsenal that could challenge the Battle Cruiser it would be that... though he very much hoped that would not be necessary, yet, for now, it waited, ready to make the jump at his signal.

Still, it was an open question of if that jump would be possible. The Vector's nature was one that spoke entirely of its temporariness. He knew the Force was capable of a great many things, indeed, after understanding what exactly was delivered to him, he had not been entirely surprised that the Force had allowed for this... still, the very idea of flying beyond the limits of the hyperlanes was to many an utter fallacy.

Yet now, here he was.

He breathed in through his nostrils, through the air, fair beyond regular senses, he could already feel his presence. A presence that even now, certainly a foe... Malum was uncertain if he could be classified as an enemy. An ambush might await him as they left hyperspace, but an ambush that he... for a reason he could not quite explain, he was certain did not wait for them.

Lord Fyre had met him with an old decrypt old battlecruiser once.

As his ship exited out of hyperspace, Malum stared ahead at the sleeping giant, with only the barest few lights alerting him of any life at all, rising far above the planet far below... Malum could smile, an easy sort of smile. For it was exactly as he knew it would be, for reasons that he could still not name.

Dax Fyre faced him now only with an old decrypt old battlecruiser. One whose engines held the power of gods behind their sting, whose weapons could sting with the power to annihilate all which crossed its path. Whose construction signalled an ownership that did not belong to the one who helmed the ship.

"Signal to him our presence and broadcast my presence, send out the fighters to scout for the presence of any other ships in the arena," Even as he was confident they were alone here, as the scanners so far found nothing, he had his orders ready for when the Alvaria would soon arrive. This all could only end one way.

And Malum wanted it to be clean.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

And so he stood, transmitting across the blackness of space towards the colossus of a vessel, tall, and proud, draped in the darkened cloaks and armour of his fealty... of his... self... beneath lay the weapons of his training, of his profession, while upon his back the blade crafted by his apprentice. His apparel pressed against his lithe frame, revealing underneath toned muscles, built by a childhood of conditioning, and a lifetime of war.

Raven locks flowed down his head, framing a face hidden behind a mask. A mask altogether familiar towards the man who knew his history, a replica, a replica of his great ancestor, which beneath, red eyes hidden, glowed dangerously, and parsed lips considered.

"...How would you wish for these next events to occur, Lord Fyre?"

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

Those stars. Once upon a time, they were the only thing I cared for. The only thing I wanted to see. I wanted to visit them all, face whatever challenges they offered, and come out the otherside, smiling at having prevailed. I thought I'd never tire of them.

Truth be told, I hadn't. Not yet. But I guess I found something that shone even brighter. In comparison, the star were but dim, dying candles, moments away from sputtering out.

I wasn't much of a wait before those stars were blocked out by the silhouettes of three vessels. Two I recognized from my last rendezvous with Lord Malum, but the third..."You came prepared..." I whispered to myself as my eyes traced the sharp lines of the dreadnought. Small ships flew from the vessel's sides, fighters. Probably scouting, checking to see if there were any additional threats. The crew were long gone by now though. Nothing there to find, Malum.

They hailed the Verdict. If I was going to be completely honest, I was, perhaps, a little impressed with that fact that the Darth hadn't just ordered the dreadnaught to try and shoot me out of the skies. There was a pretty decent chance of winning that battle if they had the element of surprise. Almost certain, given that I couldn't operate every gun on the ship at the same time. But, that was part of the reason I'd selected Malum for this in the first place. He had a sense of pride. And ambition. Why else would have followed my instructions when I could have been baiting him straight to his death.

I'd make him wait a moment or two anyways. Just to get his blood pressure up. It'd be more fun if he was a little riled up.

I waited close to a minute before I gestured for the Verdict to receive the hail. "...How would you wish for these next events to occur, Lord Fyre?"
"Lord Fyre?" I chuckled, amused. "No one's called me that in a long time, Darth Malum. Just Dax is fine." I gave him the cockiest grin I could muster. "And you're right on time. So, as for how the next few moments go, well, I'd call your ships back. The Vector's almost upon us. And then: the Hunt begins."

I glanced over to a console, set to detect a specific set of energy readings. The numbers were going up. By the nine Hells, I hoped I got this right and wasn't about to destroy the Verdict. Of all the ways I've died, death by fireball really wasn't that bad, but the old girl deserved better than that.

3972
3973
3975
3976
3977

That was the threshold. "I'll see you on the other side, Darth. Best come aboard as quickly as you can when you get out the otherside, if you wanna make it back home. Clock'll be ticking."

And the Verdict jumped through hyperspace. I couldn't help but hold my breath as we shot through the tunnel of light. The lights though, normally a never ending constant of hyperspace travel, abruptly disappeared entirely. Just pure blackness. The navi-computer was having a fit, but manually check the coordinates, still on course. Almost there.

The Verdict dropped out of hyperspace. It was hard to tell at first, the only real indicator being that the nearly sub-audible hum of the drives died out. Then I looked to my left, and there it was. The whole galaxy, stretched out in front of me. A swirling mass of light, moving so slowly it was almost completely still, frozen in time. It might as well have been, from out here.

Yeah. This wasn't too bad a place to die.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

A minute passed, and then a second one, the only sound on the bridge being the clatter of keys working, all the while Malum felt ever the fool standing here awaiting. Still, it was not all a waste, from this vastness he could admire the battlecruiser which stared back at him, as his scouts brought about updates that no other vessel was nearby, Malum himself could only note how this great hulk of a ship... seemed almost dead in some way.

Not of age, though it was clearly of an age that might make one think it was dead. Yet, it was something else, the vacuum of space made all vessels frozen to the touch, yet of the sight of the Force too, it seemed the vessel was... cold... ghastly, there was a ghostly aura that came off the hull, as if was not crewed at all. There was an image of such ships, the lights and bluster of a ship entirely metal and abiotic, but so alive due to those within, crewing it.

But for this vessel...

...He could not claim to see such a sight.

Masked eyes blinked, as the transmission appeared before him, a familiar sight, and expressions far too joyful for one that was soon to enter the maws of death. Still as annoying as the sight was, as quickly as his words were spoken and the connection cut off, so quickly that Malum could not get in a word in artwise, Malum did take away some key information.

Dax.

That would be another name he knew well from history books that he now met in person, there were many of those in this galaxy, those infamous, those famous, those who had far overstayed their welcome. Though Dax Fyre had hardly been the immortal tyrant that those he had fought had been.

Malum could not help but take in some satisfaction, that it would be a truly great man that he would slay today.

Still, there was much more to take away too, the Vector was promising to be as unstable as he had promised, and there yet again was the choice to be made, could he so easily trust this man who could be leading him into a trap? As Malum nodded his head, the Ragathor began to turn its way towards the path laid out, the Alvaria and Mors Vistra holding back, he knew that the decision had been made for him before he had even decided it.

And he imagined Lord Fy- Dax, knew that as well as he did.

The engines burned behind him, as the flight through hyperspace began, yet this was hardly like all those other times. He held his breath, and closed his eyes as the countdown for the jump was made, three, two, one. He saw the flash of light despite his closed lids, even despite his mask, and then...

...There was darkness.

The navigators were in crisis by their computers, but for the rest of the crew, for Malum, staring out into what lay ahead.

...He had never seen such majesty.

What an arena for such a battle.

Malum turned his head, but none stopped him as he began the walk to the hanger.

All knew what he had planned.

Dax Perl

 

[Dax Perl]

The galaxy, spinning before me, its arms splayed out like dancer pirouetting across a stage. The spot light was on her, and I couldn't help but stare as she performed, only tearing my eyes away when the beeping of the Verdict's radar alerted me to the arrival of the Ragathor. Malum hadn't hesitated it seemed. No doubts in Malum's mind then. Or at least, none that would stop him from giving chase. Looking through the viewports in the direction of the Sith vessel, her lights illuminated the darkness around her. Not that there was much to see out there, save the quiet sillouhette of a lone shuttle.

I could feel the corner of my lip twitch upwards ever so slightly. It was nice to know that there were some Sith out there who still held onto some ideas of...was it nobility? Honor? Some high-minded concept or another. I threw down the gauntlet, and Malum picked it up. It'd be just us, both Lords in our own right, a battle for the ages. Once he made it to the bridge at least.

I wasn't so high-minded that I'd deny myself a little bit of fun as Malum made his way up. It wasn't everyday I got to see a Sith Lord put on the backfoot. The holo-projector came alive, and began to display Malum's ship as it landed in one of the hangars. Old speeders, parts and even a derelict freighter or two cluttered the space, a far cry from the spartan order most military vessels had. As the Sith stepped out, though, the more noticeable deviation from expectation was the near total silence. Only a quiet hissing from somewhere or another.

Watching the Sith carefully, Dax breathed deeply. This was it. Let the games begin.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

It was confirmation that Malum received as he took his Lochris and sailed out of the hangers of the Ragathor into the beastly hulk that awaited. Such was the moment one would feel the claws of existential dread bury deep into one's chest, and he could hardly call himself an expectation of that feeling, not only was he gazing into the depths of the metaphorical void, with little guarantee that he would be returning but...

...Well... if the Battlecruiser looked gigantic from the viewscreens of a corvette from such a vast distance away, if he was all too likely to be intimidated by a sight so imposing as that, what about a sight far more intimidating? Far more imposing? A small starfighter, rapidly approaching a true colossus of hull and gunnery, as if they were creatures taking flight across the skies, what would he be apart from a fly, so concerned with its own existence...

...That it could not even comprehend the gravity of the drake that could destroy the world from overhead?

It was impossible not to feel the nerves in his fingers, the jitters and caustic breaths, that feeling of unease from before he departed the Ragathor still remained lively, even if the vessel before him, was as ghostly and cold as it ever was.

It was a quiet arrival into the dead god's hanger bays. Empty of life, nearly empty of creations, it was another confirmation of the emptiness of the vessel, if there was crew onboard, they were not here, if that was on purpose or not... well no, he knew it was on purpose, but what exactly that purpose was he could not tell. To scare him?

It had been some time since he had been scared of the dark.

Yet the dark-cloaked figure emerged out of the starfighter into the unnatural quietude, he could commiserate with his younger self, even with there being nothing out there, there was much to fear of those unknown depths...

...Though of course, there was something out there, or in this case, someone.

He reached for his back, the black Sith steel of his blade, shimmering in red essence, as the Force pulsated through his fingers, offering enough light, even as the plasma had not yet been extended.

"...So how would you like to do this?" He called out into the emptiness, even to him, it becoming evident how... odd it was to speak like this to someone they both knew he intended to kill.

Yet, none of what was occurring here could be called normal.

Dax Perl