Bring Me to Life

[Cim Salro]

​

The last time Cim met with Sith Lord and leader of the Confederacy, [member="Darth Metus"], it was strictly business. But since that time, the Anzati could not give any enthusiastic news that “business was good.”

Bha’lir trade had been terrible actually, and she only had herself to blame. After Nydo’s untimely death at the hands of a rival smuggling group, all she seemed to do was wallow in grief, hunt and kill for fun and shuffle a few crates of ryll around to make ends meet.

So when Metus sent her a message to meet her on Ryloth, not for dinner but at the Floating Rock Gardens of all places, immediately the remote location made Cim worry that she was going to be executed. That’s what Sith Lord’s did right? And not only did she fret that her venture had not been profitable enough to warrant her survival, she’d heard rumors that Metus was one of the Tribunal Members, secret to all members.

Again that would mean he may have known Nydo and to talk to someone who had known the man for whom she grieved so intensely… it might be worth the risk.

As the dark-haired Anzati approached the rendezvous point, the humidity increased until the rush of water in her ears made her realize there was moisture nearby. As she rounded the corner, the majestic sight of a waterfall cascading off of a giant, jagged floating rock caught her breath for a moment, but with the oppressive feeling of being under threat, the wonderment of the view did not last long.

"Hello?" Cim ventured, her husky voice echoing between the vaulted rocks.

 

[Malok]

The Devil had been watching.

One would think that a man responsible for the lives of trillions would have not a second to spare for the Sultana. As time moved ever forward, the threat of war arriving on his doorstep seemed to only increase. Therefore, there was not a moment of respite that the man took; and therefore, there was never a word to the Sultana for her dipping performance. One might have assumed...that he simply did not care any longer. One might have even believed that the whispers of his place among the Tribunal were just that - whispers. Rumors. Smoke in the wind. Yet, before the seeds of that deception could truly take root, [member="Cim Salro"] had been summoned.

Not to the very public offices on Golbah City.

Not to the densely packed Super Star Destroyers.

But to the quiet, isolated, Floating Gardens of Ryloth.

The chime of her voice did not fall upon empty ears as she called out into the stones. The succulent accent echoed soundly between the suspended earth, prompting the crunch of footsteps upon the thirsty ground. In but a moment, the Anzat's eyes would be greeted with an Obsidian sight. It was not the Devil she expected who had come to meet her, but one of his countless agents. His Knights. Under a hood and behind a mask were the agent's features obscured - but stature alone would betray his gender as male. He approached in silence, uttering not a word to the woman as he drew near.

Yet the silence would be broken when he reached for his belt. For a moment, gloved digits graced the hilt of the lightsaber hanging there...before clutching the disc adjacent to its form. The agent held it out, indicating that the Sultana should hearken to what was to come. A simple press of his finger opened the connection and an azure projection erupted into being. The Devil himself, seated upon his throne, burned into being upon the holodisc.

"Greetings, Miss Salro." came the thunderous baritone of his voice. Though his words were simple, the professional kindness that once colored his tone was long gone. There was a flatness there. An edge, born of impatience.

"You have faltered in our bargain. This...simply will not do." Darth Metus shook his head, cementing his disappointment. Cim already understood what Sith were like when they were disappointed. Failure often meant an early demise and an immediate replacement.

"But...I have been listening. Even my brightest star would not be able to fulfill her duties if the one she loved the most was taken away. And yet you carry on. Slowly. But you carry on."

The Sith leaned forward in his seat. Although he was light years away, the weight of his sulfuric gaze was palpable.

"And so I will give you grace, just this once. The decline in your end, I will forgive due to your grief. But that ends today. You will perform as expected - else there will be consequences."

The agent's grasp stiffened about the holodisc. Yet still he said nothing whilst the Devil spoke.

"Now...considering how things have been, I will be taking a much more...hands on approach moving forward. I gift you this agent, who will report to me, but who will also be your mightiest ally. If memory serves, you two know each other quite well."

"Isn't that right, Nydo?"

The connection ceased.

The holodisc fell to the earth, as "Nydo" reached out. There was no malice in his touch. No murderous intent as his fingertips graced her cheek. His form shuddered the instant the warmth of the Sultana met his glove.

"Minx, is this real?"

His voice...it was different. But he would...feel the same. The Devil made certain of that.

[member="Cim Salro"]

 

[Cim Salro]

Cim shuddered when she heard the crunch, crunch, crunch coming nearer. Her spine straightened with fear, anticipation and yes, interest in case all of her hunches were wrong. The Sultana may have proved herself a lousy business woman, but she still had those killer instincts. Yet already the surprises were rolling in.

Darth Metus did not stand before her.

Her lips pursed and then flattened into a tentative smile, jaw relaxing, reminding her that a moment ago it was clenched together, tight as a drum The Force emanated from this man or alien, and though Cim was highly untrained in its practice, his strength and luck would make him a very appealing meal. Each new individual an Anzati would meet was subject to first being greeted and then analyzed for meal possibilities. And finally, she would decide right then and there to let the being live or die. The jury was still deliberating on the third.

Yet there was Metus making himself known on the holodisc by this grim reaper like figure. And she wanted to counter every statement, but she kept quiet until he mentioned Nydo, and then tears began to roll down from her dark eyes onto her pale face.

“An agent…” she said aloud as the Sith Lord finished his thought.

"Isn't that right, Nydo?"

Cim’s eyes widened, brushing the tears away with the back of a gloved hand. “Really? Is it you, love?” The man in the mask continued to reach out, picking up the job of wiping her tears away. Yes, yes he felt the same, but feth it, she really wanted to rip that face plate off to kiss his rough lips. His voice was distinctly different, but the Sultana reasoned it was the mask causing his words to be distorted.

“Am I dreaming? You’re alive.”

The Force worked in mysterious ways. She hoped she would be able to ask Darth Metus just how Nydo had either managed to survive or if he was somehow mysteriously revived through Sith magic, but for now she just wanted to gaze upon her lover’s face.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Genesis Rostu]

The experience had been jarring.

Var...no...Nydo...no...Var? The agent could hardly get the facts straight in his mind. Everything had been fuzzy in recent history - so much so that attempts to ponder his state of being often ended with a migraine. Nonetheless, the agent lulled his eyes to a close as often as he could, thinking back as far as he could. And what he remembered was jarring. Most recently, there were memories of death. In particular...of his own death. Twice. This reality defied every shred of logic that there was in the Galaxy...and yet, here he stood alive despite it.

He remembered laying on his back, battered and broken. He remembered the ache of his muscles as he rolled over to face the criminal scum that had managed to ambush him. He remembered his final thoughts being of the woman weeping before him...and his final words being a curt feth you to the man holding the disruptor. Nydo remembered the sensation of burning apart into nothing.

But there was more. A cacophany of cold and agony. Of utter futility. He remembered when the battle had gone awry: a routine boarding of an enemy vessel. He remembered when the oxygen was vented out of the corridors...and just how damaged his reserve supply had become in the fighting. Var remembered the sensation of his lungs screaming for air, but there was nothing.

Yet, despite the memories being clear as day in his mind, the agent stood alive. Try as he might, he could not make sense of it all. And, for all the trouble, there were moments when he simply wanted to accept what he knew instead of chasing the quiet corners of his mind. What he knew was the face that now stared back in the mirror was Eshan born. What he knew was that there were numerous people he cared deeply for. What he knew was that the Sultana topped that list. And as the amber depths of his eyes witnessed the first tears invade her cheeks, it took every ounce of restraint not to tear the mask free.

But common sense demanded he not be so brash. For the face behind the obsidian visage was not the one she fell in love with. Nor was the voice with which he spoke the same. And so...he settled for speaking first.

"It's me." he breathed, momentarily wondering what me exactly meant. "I'm alive...but I shouldn't be."

He sucked in a breath.

"He caught me with a disruptor Minx. There was nothing left - I watched myself...yeah. But here I am...and it's His doing. I don't know how, I don't know why, but he..."

Talking would only get so far. The jig was up. Reaching, his offhand clutched the side of his mask and tugged it down, revealing alabaster features to her tear-soaked eyes.

"He...put me back together again. Albeit, much more pale. Infinitely."

Nydo's wit remained it seemed - that couldn't be said for the rugged mug the Sultana yearned to touch.

[member="Cim Salro"]

 

[Cim Salro]

Everything was different, but also the same. It was a jarring sensation to say the least.

Despite the mask, despite his touch, despite this fething crazy planet with rocks that literally floated around the sky, defying gravity and the laws of physics, she knew in her heart that her soulmate was standing before her.

As the words tumbled out of “Nydo’s” mouth, she listened and yes it made sense. He was gunned down by a disruptor from the reports that she’d heard and subsequently tried to block from her mind.

Cim now watched as the atmosphere around her slipped into slow motion. Nydo’s hand to his hood, then clutching the mask. The Anzati tensed up, waiting for the reveal, expecting to see her human with his dark brown hair and his unshaven, three-day stubbled face.

"He...put me back together again. Albeit, much more pale. Infinitely."

Cim wanted to laugh. She recognized that her lover’s banter was the same but his face! It wasn’t the Nydo she knew with the square jaw and the ink-black swoop of hair hanging down into his face. The man before her was… well, he was attractive, even if his nose and lips were a little too close together and his hair was the wrong color. And that haircut itself! Despite the Anzati liking a bit of scruff, she resolved to visit a barber soon to get some of that beard off.

Either way, she backed up a few paces.

“What deviltry is this, Darth Metus! This is not my lover. Not my a longshot!"

[member="Var Talon"]

 

[Genesis Rostu]

Her reaction was...right about what the agent had anticipated.

When he made the journey across the stars to Ryloth, his first meditations were of what happened. Of course they would be - for what man wouldn't attempt to inject reason into their supernatural existence? But, as the shuttle hurtled closer and closer to Ryloth, his thoughts began to orbit around the Sultana. A knot slowly began to form in the pit of his stomach. His hands moistened with sweat, as did his brow; for "Nydo" had no idea how she would receive him. There was a very small part of him that hoped their reunion would be one straight out of the holovids. That she would hear him and know that her Drifter had returned.

But, reality was a cold, vindictive creature. "Nydo" was well aware the chances of such a reunion were slim to none; and that Cim would look upon him like a stranger. Sure, his manner of speaking was the same, but his voice and...well...everything were different. What's more, the Sultana wasn't an Echani like he was now. She, like any other non-Echani woman in the Galaxy, wouldn't accept a platter of facts or logic when met with this scenario. The love of one's life? Returning in a new meatsuit? No amount of straight logic would ever convince her to believe this.

So, he fully anticipated the reaction when the mask was removed from his face. And when she recoiled at the sight of him, the agent offered that same, half-smirk that he always did. She knew the one...the smirk that got him out of doing dishes or that saw him evade trouble for petty things. The smirk that she swore aloud she hated, but deep down adored.

"Minx, listen to me.." he breathed, shaking his head slightly. "I got hit with a disruptor, there was nothing left to put me back in. The boss had to go shopping and settled on this one - without your input for reasons beyond me."

His tone was light and confident. The same tone he took when they were flying into the mouth of Hell. He only spoke this way when they were facing odds that, frankly, would scare the living chit out of someone. But he knew she took comfort in his being her pillar - even when he was apprehensive of their own chances of survival. She'd know this tone like the back of her hand. She'd know this smile. But still, he continued.

To convince her would take more than facts of course. More than body language. He knew he'd have to do something that Confederate surveillance wouldn't know about. Something that only she would know. Something to make her feel, even for a moment, that she was home with him. And the only thing that came to mind was that little tune he hummed. When it was just the two of them, curled up in a mess of sheets after a long day and even longer night. When her head was nestled into his chest and his fingers graced her hair.

And so he hummed her tune, just for a moment, whilest reaching out for her hand.

"It's me Minx. I'm really here. No tricks, no bullchit."

[member="Cim Salro"]

 

[Cim Salro]

Narrowing her kohl-rimmed eyes, Cim tilted her head slowly to the side, allowing her cold Anzati blood to flow through her body at a more calculated pace. Sith magic worked in mysterious ways, but why? Why would Darth Metus give her a gift instead of punishment?
And if her dead lover had worked all along for the Tribunal, perhaps Cim was a smaller, weaker pawn in the shrouded leadership structure of the Black Bha’lir.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar notes of music that was theirs and theirs alone. The smirk became more of a smile, and she closed her eyes for a moment and just listened to that tune.

But trust was not built on a song.

Still her countenance relaxed. She touched his hand, he could feel her frigid skin underneath the gloves, but the alien did not take it. Not yet.

“Alright,” the Anzati said in that husky purr that Nydo was used to. “I still have a ton of questions, and if we stay in this sideshow of a desert, I’m gonna starve to death. We’ll need to go to a populated area soon, so I can do my thing.”

Her thing was to feed upon a hapless victim. Of course, Nydo let her drink his soup, only in the most intimate moments, but she would rather have her answers first before any mutual claiming would happen. “We can take my ship to Lessu. I named the Aschansa after you, Mesh’la.” The vessel was purchased after her lover’s death, by funds that Cim had procured from the dissolving Black Bha’lir.

It was basically all she had until now.

She watched him as they walked towards the Aschansa and then asked, “Who’s body was that before?” Cim's dark eyes appraised him in a way that suggested she was not all that displeased by the replacement human form.

[member="Var Talon"]

 

[Genesis Rostu]

They were certainly not living a fairy tale.

As the melody thrummed within his throat, the Echani noted minimal change in the woman’s expression. That was certainly the Cim that “Nydo” had grown to love - she had a poker face that could win every game from here to Nar Shadaa. For but a moment, he felt as though maybe his efforts and words were having no effect; given that all he received as a response was the tilting of her head. But...there was a glimmer of hope. It was the furthest thing from a passionate, holovid reunion while rain poured overhead. But, it was enough that the agent felt his heart thunder a beat within his chest. She touched his hand. Her fingers did not lace through his own, nor did she draw any closer.

But it was a start. The chill of her skin was a stark contrast to the sweltering heat of the day; but “Nydo” could have stood there forever. He didn’t mind the sweat that had begun to bead upon the back of his neck, for he was right where he wanted to be.

[member="Cim Salro"] was a much more practical and hungry being. Her touch did not last forever, as her practicalities voiced themselves in that husky tone of hers. The Anzat was very much so...an Anzat; and thus her physical needs could not be satiated with a mere protein bar or actual “human” food. She needed to feast upon the life essence of another. Now, normally, Nydo would have happily volunteered his own essence to his beloved - but that particular sacrifice also involved a lot more noise, biting, scratching, and sheets flying than his Minx was willing to partake in at the moment. Given the circumstances, that was totally understandable; and thus her words were met with that trademark smirk yet again.

”If you didn’t have questions, I’d be hella concerned.” he began. ”So, what play should we make for dinner? Should we do the ‘my hyperdrive is busted’ or a classic ‘help, my wife is in labor’?”

If there was anyone within earshot of those particular statements, their eyes might have widened. But, for the pair, these jests were actual, legitimate “dinner” plans. To feast upon a hapless victim meant preying upon their gullability and goodwill. And, love would have it that “Nydo” was more than accepting of her needs...he would be her number one wingman in getting a suitable appetizer. By now, it had become an amusing game for them. And...he hoped reminding her of just how many “plays” they had written would add further credence to what he claimed. He was alive. He was still hers. There was just the matter of a fresh face to get accustomed to.

The Sultana mentioned her ship and the agent placed his amber gaze upon it. The smirk grew three times its size when the chime of her voice graced his ears once more. She had named it after him...she missed him that much that she memorialized him in her vessel. The gesture was infinitely sweet. ”Well, now I have to name my next disruptor after you. Only fitting to have my Cim at my side always, right?” He offered an affectionate wink before striding over towards the vessel with her.

Her next question caused him to try and wade through those muddled memories yet again. His response was simple, but wholly truthful. ”Var Talon, former Echani spec ops. Current Obsidian Knight. Executor. Badass. Apparently I can do Force stuff now.”

Imagine how fun eating his soup would be now.

[member="Cim Salro"]

 

[Cim Salro]

Nydo’s snarky comment about dinner plans? Now that was the wit Cim was used to. The mischievous grin, the gravelly voice and chin to match - still, things didn’t quite match up like the wrong puzzle pieces that you could swear fit together a minute ago.

And furthermore would this be easier if she wasn’t an Anzati? She did not often think about her race or question why the Silent Voices chose her to be this long-living, essence-feeding creature. But occasionally Cim wondered whether she and new-Nydo would be happier as normal humans with the ability to go out for coffee, brunch or see a holoflick without her needing to dash off and violently kill someone or something in order to stay alive.

“My hyperdrive is busted,” she answered. “I’m not that hungry.”

And if she grew famished, the Anzati was quick and efficient - a hapless Squib janitor at any spaceport could be consumed rapidly and quietly in ten seconds with minimal screaming.

As they boarded The Aschansa and got settled into the cockpit, Cim gave Nydo an enthusiastic expression at his admission he was now a Force user and not just for the feeding benefits.

“Maybe you can help me with this,” she said, pulling out an object from a secret compartment nearby. “It’s called the Oracle Stone. I won it at an auction recently. Don’t really know what to do with it, though I can tell it’s special.”

The Sultana was also a Force-sensitive being but had no idea how to channel it and for now it remained ambient background noise in her life, always submerged under the cacophony of her other needs.

[member="Var Talon"]