Big things start with small beginnings. (Gravensen)

[Subject: Gyossait]

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Belkadan, Subach HQ.​

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The death of you will by my- our fondest memory... ​

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The sound of breathing filled Gyossait's conscious. His eyes rolled in their sockets as distant memories seemed to intrude and interrupt his artificial tranquility, voices he could barely understand filling his thoughts with conversations that felt threatening yet oddly familiar. Scientists outside of the cloning tank talked among themselves, pointing out the blotches as a normal repercussion of the cloning process. Double-checking their lab rat as it were.

I keep you locked away for a reason...​

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Gyossait began to fidget in his tank with what seemed to be a display of distress, the researchers and scientists alike taking note of the unusual activity taking place. Flashes of memories of what seemed like combat training coursed through the clone's mind. Albeit hazy, the red hue of a lightsaber and a low soothing hum filled his senses. Mangled bodies of robed figures littered the unknown surroundings, what did this all mean? After a moment the stream of cryptic visions ceased and Gyossait calmed back into his slumber.

[SIZE=13.63636302948px][member="Gravesen Conclave"][/SIZE]

 

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The Architects had pointed out a possible ally in the clone of Patholex, formerly Zius Tal'verda. How they came about this, Gravesen had absolutely no idea. Their methods were private and well hidden; he would not insult them by inquiring about their means.

What he did know was the past of Tal'verda, to a point. He had inherited some of the memories of the last Harbinger, as the Monitor had stated, and recalled an odd innocence to the man. He knew the hard facts as to who Zius truly was, and what he had become, from the Architects and their interactions with Calico. What struck him, however, was how the old Chieftain had thought of such a vile murderer.

A son to be proud of. A misguided child that needed only the love of any sentient being, and had received so little. The thought pulled at Gravesen's heartstrings no matter what actions Zius had committed in his life. Gravesen pitied the man.

So when the Architects spoke of a clone, one that needed to be retrieved as well, Gravesen had not hesitated. Though the invasion of Naboo was in a day or so, he had taken the time to seek this clone out.

Now, he strode through the lab wearing the stark black long coat that he had become known for. His head was held high, and his arms swayed at his sides. His lips were curled into a friendly smile as he approached the man in the tank. The transfer had already been paid for, and Subach no doubt needed the credits. They were in a bad way as of late.

Gravesen turned toward one of the scientists, and motioned toward Gyossait with a jerk of the head. "Bring him out of the tank. I want to speak with him."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

All the researchers and scientists turned towards the man. The one being asked to release the tank to him simply gave a firm nod, turning towards the others with a commanding gaze. Suddenly a loud, monotonous voice spoke of disengaging support systems and draining the tank. Soon after the necessary procedures were carried out, a still sleeping Gyossait lay inside the emptied container, slowly opening his eyes to an array of colorful lights. Strange sounds flooded his ears as his senses began to comprehend all that was happening around him.

He slowly sat himself upright, looking around to see all the faces that had been caring for him for the last few weeks while he was still growing- and rather well at that. A couple of the aforementioned scientists walked over to the nude clone, putting a robe around him to better comfort Gyossait while he was made to understand what was to happen. His gaze shifted to [member="Gravesen Conclave"], blinking his eyes a couple times as his mind tried to piece together who he was. Somehow... he had seen this face before, but wasn't quite certain. He remained silent and got to his feet, stepping down from the tank's platform and in front of the man conducting business.

 

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Gravesen said not a word to the clone as he gained his bearings. He would allowed this stranger, this mew addition to the galaxy a moment or so's respite before making him think. His arms folded behind the small of his back, and the smile he wore was a genuinely warm one. Unlike the scientists, whose care was artificial and simply requirded for the assignment of growing the clone, Gravesen's personal stake in this was much more natural. He had a sense of sympathy for clones; considering the fact that the former Harbinger was one.

"Hi there. My name is Gravesen, what is yours?" He asked politely. A brow was lofted, and he leaned in partway in a show of curiosity. He knew the project name, of course, but he would not be treating Gyossait like a lab experiment.

His grin did not falter, nor did the pleasant tone to his voice. To a stranger, he was simply a friendly man.

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait eyed the man up and down to try to grasp why he looked so familiar, clutching the robe firmly as a faint chill went down his spine. Probably from the room's temperature. "Hi there. My name is Gravesen, what is yours?" The clone opened his mouth to respond, but before any words could be formed, he felt the presence of someone creeping up behind him and reacted purely on instinct rather than answer the stranger in question. A lone scientist was met with a swift punch to the throat, falling over in a comical manner all the while choking and making gurgling sounds of pain. Others rushed to his side while Gyossait slowly turned back to face Gravesen once more to finally answer his question.

"I- uh... I'm.....I don't...know?"

Whirring of machinery in the background added a sort of ambiance to the predicament while the cluster of scientists still tended to their own, getting him to his feet and walking him elsewhere while the unfortunate victim glared at the clone before being carried out the door leading towards the infirmary.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen reigned in the urge to laugh, and oh, it was a strong one. His hands slipped into his pockets, and his nose crinkled up as he held back a chuckle. His gray eyed gaze drifted over to the afflicted scientist. They were all making a show of things; all introverts who had no idea how to deal with any kind of real situation. Gravesen had been one of those.

This time, he laughed.

"Then we'll have to find one for you then, won't we?" He asked. "What exactly do you know, friend?" He added quietly. Truth be told, Gravesen had no idea why Subach had taken it upon themselves to clone a Sith Lod. At the same time, it wasn't in his right to really ask.

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

"What exactly do you know, friend?" A question better asked than answered. Quite frankly, Gyossait had little knowledge of anything aside from being subjected to the norms of educating a clone about the known galaxy along with the strange visions he had been receiving while still submerged in clone juice. He simply looked at [member="Gravesen Conclave"]t and shook his head. Turning around to observe all the technology, he began to think about the possible reasons as to why he came to be. Of course he was aware of what he was... but the key query was why? After sating his curiosity about his surroundings he finally had some kind of answer for the man.

"Something about being locked away for a reason? The death of..."

He fell silent and felt an overwhelming sense of nausea, heaving forward and vomiting all over the grated floor. Something struck a chord, and the more he was able to recall made him feel sick, afraid. His mind strained for a real answer for something he still didn't quite understand. Who would request a clone of themselves without leaving behind a reason? Was there one? In time, Gyossait would find out. For now, he would have to put trust in this newcomer. He was his best bet at finding answers.

 

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Gravesen took a step forward as Gyossait promptly ejected his stomach contents all over the floor. Cloning was, as he had read, a very delicate process and often left the clone in a bad shape for the first few hours. He set a steadying hand on the clone's shoulder; the slight comfort of physical contact his tool to try and help the man become acquainted with things.

"Well, you're not locked up now. Unlike these scientists, I'll be setting you free. You can come with me, if you want, or not. It's your choice.'

He nodded as if that added any sense of validity to his words, and waved off one of the approaching scientists with his hand. The scientist gave him a nasty look, but complied. Gravesen's hand fell from the man's shoulder, and he turned partway toward the door leading outside. "I represent a group known as the Architects. We understand the need for a purpose...."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait looked at the hand that was placed on his shoulder, still feeling a bit dizzy after hurling whatever protein substance he had in his gut prior. He looked [member="Gravesen Conclave"] in the eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster at the moment and gave a subtle nod to indicate his decision. There was no turning this man down, where else was he supposed to go? Despite the lack of general information, a strong sense to push forward would already be evident within the clone. To die and be reborn did not take away the fight from the soul, the will to seek out one's destiny forges its own bonds of retribution even if that cause is practically unknown to the wielder.

"I represent a group known as the Architects. We understand the need for a purpose..."

Those words rang more clear than anything Gyossait had heard upon his awakening. A faint smile drew across his lips and he put his own hand on the man's with a firm assured grip. "And a purpose is all I seek. I'm ready whenever you are, friend." He broke into a full smile. Something Zius could never seem to do.

 

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"Lets be off then."

The trip away from the cloning facility was a short one. A small transport had carried them over the sleeping world; up into the stars, and toward the welcoming arms of the Ge'hutuun.


The San-Hill hung lazily just above the planet's atmosphere. Its many lights marked in clear in the otherwise empty sky. The planet wasn't exactly popular this time of the year; only transports and the occasional trader passed through.

To have a massive destroyer like the Ge'hutuun in orbit was an event indeed. As their shuttle flew toward the ship, small crowds formed on the ground to stare up at the San-Hill. The myriad of lights it cast was certainly a sight to see.

The shuttle Gravesen had road to and fro in wasn't the most comfortable. It was a military model, and two spider droids hidden under tarps took up the entire crew hold.
The cockpit, however, could seat up to four people.

The shuttle came to dock in the Ge'hutuun's main hanger bay. Dropships of various design from the old Confederacy were docked, respectively. Relics of the past; never to be removed from the hanger itself.

The shuttle set down roughly on the durasteel floors. The back ramp hissed open, and gave a loud thud as it hit the floor. Droids that resembled an advanced version of the spider droids used in war scurried about. Some repaired the old ships; others engaged in casual conversation.

Gravesen pushed out of his seat, and dusted off his jacket.

"Welcome to the Ge'hutuun. My home, and yours now too. Feel free to make a mess, the Architects love to clean...I think."




[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait walked toward the open ramp of the ship, peering out at all the curious happenings taking place among the busy droids. He clutched his robe and stepped down onto the cold duratseel floor as shivers coursed through his body. Still getting used to all the lights and sounds. He turned back to look at [member="Gravesen Conclave"] with a clueless yet eager expression. Almost as if he were looking for some sort of approval; After all, he still wasn't sure of much aside from merely existing. Still a bit queasy, he sighed and grimaced with unease. One of the aforementioned droids walked up to him and initiated a scan for any hidden weaponry or possible threats, then promptly carrying on with whatever duty it was needed for.

"What do we do from here?"

The look in Gyossait's eyes implied that he was utterly lost and without any sense of direction. Still innocent and without the stain of blood on his conscious. A pair of clean hands among the already dirtied souls throughout the vast galaxy where war and violence is commonplace just to prove a point. An innocence that was, at some point, to be torn asunder by the reality of the world around it.

 

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The kinship Gravesen felt with Gyosset was oddly familiar. Both were oddities in the galaxy; not born naturally, and certainly not designed like the galactic populace. Gyosset was alone in a way, and that only served to reinforce Gravesen's plans.

The Rattataki crossed over to the clone, and clamped an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "Now, we get you Ujj cake and show you holovision. Relax and get used to things. This is your home now, and I'm your family."

He gave Gyosset a playful shake, and turned to lead off down the corridors. The ship was utterly spotless. It would be very hard to imagine this being a military vessel at any point in time. The arrived in the officer's lounge, which as been converted to a sort of living space.

Chairs a sofas dotted the floor. Pictures hung from the walls; a kitchen was nestled into the corner, and a massive holovision with every gaming console imaginable day across the room.


"This is the lounge...do whatever you like with it. You'll probably meet Una soon. She's a Jedi staying on the ship...and the Monitor, he leads the Architects. We're trying to defend the galaxy from outside threats."


His shoulders slumped to a slight angle, and his voice fell with them. "It's been difficult. Maybe you can help us."





[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

He watched [member="Gravesen Conclave"] walk ahead with silence. Help from what? Gyossait had never been personally involved in any sort of conflict, let alone any training of any sort as far as it would seem. He let out another sigh of discomfort and followed behind the man with his mind still running at a thousand miles per hour. So much to learn, but still so much to figure out. The excitement and thrill of a new situation was enough to keep him interested, especially since someone had come to find him specifically and bring him in for a purpose still unknown. As he was still following Gravesen, a sudden wave of pain washed over his body and he collapsed to the floor. All his senses began to blur and distort. His breathing becoming more shallow and weak.

"...WE are the betterment of your mistakes..."​

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The surroundings around him began to change and his own mind began to pull him down into the bowels of something hidden. A nightmare become real. A reddish brown hue hung all around the mysterious area he had found himself in. The faint lighting of an outside source peering inward through a relatively small opening, leaving Gyossait in a sort of spotlight. Distant cackles and foreign sounds drew closer, the scraping of metal on metal became increasingly louder as the clone covered his ears and closed his eyes.

"...WE are what you fear..."​

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He opened his eyes slowly and looked up at the foul thing that spoke in a hellish tone. For a brief moment, the room came alive with the groans and cries of torture. The crackling and tearing of flesh joining in like a disgusting harmony as malformed beings surrounded the confused, scared clone. All turned to darkness.

He snapped back into reality, thrashing about and looking around frantically. His breathing erratic and shaky as he pushed himself up against a wall. Now more confused than he had ever been.

 

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"Shab."

Gravesen barely saw what happened. His presence in the force was only marginal, and his ability to sense what happened around him was cloudy at best. It was the sound of his new friend's body hitting the floor that alerted him, not the force. He turned on his heel, and immediately fell to one knee. The boy was spasming all over the floor, and two Architects had come to investigate. They hung back a few feet on either side of the corridor, watching.

The Rattataki jerked back as [member="Subject: Gyossait"] fell back against the wall. He pursed his lips, but any words that he had been preparing died in his throat. What should he even say? He set a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder, and motioned for the Architects to clear the area.

"Gyossait, look at me. Gyossait." He commanded steadily.

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait began to calm down a bit, focusing his scrambled attention on Gravesen with a shaky demeanor. "D-did you see that!? What just happened?" His tone escalated into one of panic, hoping and wishing that he wasn't alone in his disturbing vision. But it would seem that not all ties would have been severed in the cloning of the Sith Lord. The remaining strands of the damaged soul still clung to each other, distortion of harmony and an imbalance that would forever haunt the clone unless action was taken. One way or another. Gyossait would never be free, would never be able to rest until either him or the one who gave him existence died.

Happiness and peace will not exist. The hand that Gravesen placed on Gyossait's shoulder was symbolic in a sense. Like damning him with unspoken promise to life of hardship and suffering. The galaxy is a maw that swallows up even the most oblivious into its dissonant rage and bombastic surprise with little time to react or even less chance to survive. Who's to say Gyossait is one to be gifted with promise? No one.

That very hand that clasped his shoulder offered friendship. And that was enough to forge a destiny worth fighting for.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Gravesen's brow knit in obvious concern. He had studied the force and all of its aspects throughout his short life. The possibility of cloning a force user was a very dangerous prospect indeed, and one not without its issues. Many clones went insane hours after their birth. Others became force dead husks of their hosts. Even those that came out relatively unscathed were still haunted by the visions and thoughts of their predeccesor's, and that seemed to by Gyossait's case.

"I'm afraid not, but I might know where it came from. The man you were cloned from, Zius Tal'verda, became a powerful Sith Lord....you may share some sort of bond." The Rattataki mmbled. It was grim news, to be certain, but it needed to be delivered nonetheless.

The Architects had returned with a small glass of water and a hand towel. Gravesen nodded in thanks as the lead Architect offered the glass to Gyossait. He was going to need to take care of this clone, just as Tal'verda had taken care of Zius. It was a passing of the torch, in a way. The old group, the old heroes, had unknowingly set the galaxy on its course to unification. It was this new group's duty to see that through.

"Which means we'll have to break it."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

Gyossait took the water and gave the said Architect a subtle nod of thanks. He then slowly turned his attention to Gravesen, trying to comprehend what he was telling him. His eyes darted to the floor, piercing it in a figurative sense as his senses waned between blurry and lucid. The short amount of time the clone had been alive was already the most complicated and confusing time in his life. To learn that he was the genetic offspring of some Sith Lord was very troubling, somewhat disturbing too. Gyossait didn't want to accept that this bond was real, and even less so for the fact that these visions were brought on because of him.

He brought the water to his lips and closed his eyes, drinking it down slow and sparingly. The cold grace of the liquid soothed his dry mouth and gave a feeling of relief from the disorientating moment. He reopened his sky blue eyes in silence and picked himself up from the floor, a blank expression painted over his face as he reassured his gaze unto [member="Gravesen Conclave"]. "I don't want these visions. I don't want this...bond. I'm not completely ignorant to the consequences of searching for this man, nor will I sit idle in false complacency and be haunted by something so twisted."

He took a couple steps closer to Gravesen, this time placing his hand on his shoulder whilst looking him dead in the eyes. "I want to fight."


[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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And that was all Gravesen needed to know. He tilted his head forward in a slight nod, and motioned toward the common room they had just exited. If Gyossait wanted to fight, them Gravesen would present him with a worthy foe. "I'm glad to hear that. The galaxy is in need of people who know what needs to be fought...it needs people who understand the force, too."

The words were a bit cryptic, but held a sense of purpose. The Rattataki whistled, and the Architects nearby all dispersed as one. "The man you were cloned from, the man now known as Darth Patholex, is somewhat of a master of the force, but he hasn't done its will. The Jedi Order is stuck fighting pointless wars, and the Sith are too concerned with conquering the galaxy to be of any help." He placed a hand over the one clamped on his shoulder. "I'm always learning, but over the course of our journey, I can teach you what I know, and you can teach others. We'll need something to do after the fighting is done, won't we?"

He huffed a quiet, good natured laugh. His arms fell to his sides, and he turned bodily toward the common room. "Our primary objective right now is to help the Architects gather what resources they need."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]

 

[Subject: Gyossait]

The clone gave Gravesen a simple smile and nodded back with gratitude. "Then I will be what he failed to accomplish." It was almost as if fate had smiled upon the re-birthing of this individual, granting the chance to correct the wrongs that his other self left behind. City's left in ruin because of a blackened heart that decided to turn away from the goodness that the galaxy offered. This time would be different, this time would be a path of selfless cause and justice. Gyossait followed behind Gravesen without a moment of hesitation, eager to throw himself into combat already much like his Sith counterpart.

All the tenacity and vigor still thrived within the clone's heart with strong conviction, and there was little that anyone could say or do to thwart such an ambition. "There is one thing...how am I supposed to know what I'm capable of? I've no practice with any weapons, or at least I think."

With that, he awaited his new-found friend's response.

[member="Gravesen Conclave"]

 

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Now that was the question, wasn't it? Gravesen only took a moment to ponder it. Whatever abilities Gyossait had inherited would have to emerge in the middle of conflict. That was the only way to make sure they still existed. With that thoughts in mind, he jerked his head down the opposite hallway. Wordlessly, he began to lead the clone down twists and turns, until they came into a massive, hollow room. It was dimly lit, and shaped like a massive circle.

A single chamber opened in the center of the room. The floor parted, and a dais was drawn up with an elevator. On it, sat six of the standard weapons of the Obsidian knights. The ebony lightsabers glared up at the two. Some single bladed, others reversed grip. Dual-phases, saber staffs, even two tonfas all ready for use. Gravesen strode forward and picked up the dual-phase blade, its hilt spiked for the purpose of intimidation. It was long, and required two hands to properly wield.

The Rattataki shrugged off his tench coat. He wore a simple sleeveless shirt, and four long black tattoos ran down both of his arms in a vertical line. He wasn't a twig, but he was no musclebound giant either.

"Pick what weapon comes naturally to you. They are from the Obsidian Knights, our allies in our endeavors. They serve their purpose, for now."

[member="Subject: Gyossait"]