Cor Odium: Korriban Mission (open)

[Not Ordo]

[member="Kitt Solo"]

Aran was sitting quietly when the Aruetise woman beside him began to stir. His eye rolled as she murmured about spiced bourbon.

"Great, another mouth to hear." he muttered just before he got a healthy elbow in the ribs, "Shab woman." Aran muttered as the only one with his hands bound over his head and secured to the wall.

His dark brown eyes looked her over briefly to estimate the chances she could actually throw a punch unlike the rest of the various peoples. He had trained under some of the best Mando's and from the looks she had at least a chance of not being useless. His shredded shirt and trousers were all he had on but his armor was likely somewhere on board. Bare feet pushed him to the side as he pulled up against the restrains to give the woman some space.

"Your head and elbow will be the last of your worries hear aruetiise." He said in his thick Mandalorian accent, "You may lose your shabla head."

Aran had been watching and waiting for a long time. No guards had come, only the sounds of the engines. He had felt the jump to hyperspace but not the reentry. He had a fair guess the nut that held them had killed at least one since he woke and he didn't doubt from the way the others spoke there had been a few more before. The choices were simple find a way to escape or die on this ship. He rather preferred the former.

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Arumi Zy"] [member="Graxin Rade"] [member="Zaren Bouqi"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Darth Isolda"]

Odium felt the woman briefly as she entered the cave. She was determined and the sweet taste of hate for him was a tantalizing thing he could scarcely avoid seeking more of. He pulled the bone necklace that contained the spirits of Rasho the Hutt and the Jedi padawan from beneath his armor and felt it tingle on his skin the force here was strong and black as pitch, it was simply intoxicating. He no longer held on to the weak behavior he had shown on the surface it was time to treat his pursues with the proper care do their sort. he pulled the Nautolan skin cloak from his back and hung it on a rock on one wall and stretched it to touch the other. It was not the sort of thing that would harm or even hurt but it would slow as they pursued him, and if they were smart they would be aware he was not averse to laying traps in his wake.

He turned away from his one warning and began moving. The walls narrowed and he could feel his chest tighten in fear. The memories of being locked away in a box clawed at his already savage broken mind and screamed for him to turn back, but the thought of pleasing his Master and basking in her approval spurred him on. He could not wait longer for his purpose to begin coming to fruition he didn't know if he could bare it. The Holocron of Graush detailing the creation of his heart was the priority but he could begin binding spirits to his crystal. He pulled the crimson fist sized crystal from his satchel and began drawing on the force as he moved when he got closer to the crypts or if he drew the spirits in he would be ready.

So on he pressed master craft sith sword in one hand and crystal in the other, they would feel him when he began binding even on Korriban the darkness would swell, but he would not begin yet.

 

[Quinn Vos]

Ears perked-up. She had a shadow. She just hoped it wasn’t the one that liked to talk. She needed quiet. The force enhanced her eyesight in the dark. Besides connecting through the earth with the force, it was one of the few powers that came naturally to the huntress.

She paused as the cave split into several different corridors. She knelt down and pressed her palms flat, against the rocky-surface. She repeated this exercise twice more before feeling the trail of Odium’s boots. Eyes flashed as the psychometry kicked-in. She knew which way to go.

She grimaced, hearing [member="Ryan Korr"] behind her. Eyes flashed in the gloom to meet his. “Shh. You walk like child. Quiet.” Muddy-haired head whipped around as she continued her trek into the darkness, kneeling down multiple times along the way. She adjusted her course accordingly, everything to match the nautolan’s.

There was a shadow up ahead. Darker. And she walked right into it. Arms thrashed wildly as Odium’s cloak wrapped around her, the memories of the fabric - violence, death, twisted glee - seeped into each patch of exposed skin it touched. The violence and darkness added a poisonous fuel to her already stoked fire.

Her eyes glowed as the memories sunk their talons deeper into her being.

She snarled and stumbled, trying to wrench it free. “Off!” Her voice ripped through her throat and echoed down into the bowels of the cave, as if to stir up the spirits themselves.

[member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Darth Odium"]

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Aran Ordo"]

She glanced at the one who spoke. “Sorry, sweetpie.” Her back hit the wall she shared with the man as her gaze compared their situations. Her Mandalorian was non-existent. She may have just been insulted. But right now, it didn’t matter. The man had a point. They had to get moving if they wanted out of this – whatever this was – alive.

“I just love being underestimated,” she whispered for his ears only. “Name’s Kitt Solo. If I throw a guard your way, think you can take him out chained to the wall?”

With the force, she already began to touch on the emotions of her fellow prisoners. Using her empath skills, she worked to increase the panic and outrage level by 325%. She left the mando-guy alone. The mood in their small space changed from gradually to drastically chaotic. The others began to get up and wander away from their holding area, yelling about answers and generally, screaming about freedom.

“Should get somebody’s attention,” she spoke a little louder to be heard above the growing riot. Then she could know exactly who she was dealing with.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Temple-raised and trained since the age of five and yet she said he walked like a child. For some reason, Ryan could not help the smile that touched his lips. Anyone else who'd said that would have earned a sharp look, but this mudcaked huntress was not just anyone else. There was something about her- He snorted and shook his head.

All thoughts of soft-walking vanished when she screamed, panicked and enraged. Off? Off what? Biting back a curse, Ryan leapt forward. The lightsaber in his hand sprang to life with a snap-hiss, extending a sapphire blade. The saber's blue glow illumined the warrioress, who struggled with some sort of cloak. In the deep blackness of these tombs, he dared not utilize Force Sight to see the essence of that which plagued her. If he saw the nightmares that dwelled here in their true forms the sight would burn him to his very core and leave him writhing on the ground. No, he needed a simpler touch.

Uncaring if the cloak contained some sort of entrapping spell, Ryan stepped forward and tore the cloak from the woman's grasp. When nothing assaulted his mind, he grimaced and threw the garment to the side. It hit the cave wall and settled softly to the floor, resting in the shadows cast by Ryan's saber.

"What was that?" Ryan asked, voice as alert as the fear that trickled through his veins.

[member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Darth Odium"] [member="Ashin Varanin"]

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Ryan Korr"]

Odium heard the echo of the woman's voice as she tossed aside the Nautolan skin cloak, the last thing his parents had given him. He moved as quickly as he could but he couldn't help but feel as if the walls were closing in on him. He felt short of breath whenever he thought about it but he had to go on. There was no other option. Failure would disappoint his master and that simply would not do.

Black eyes looked through the goggles and saw the world in a gritty green light. He was getting near now near enough to sense the spirits growing restless, some wanted new life, others wanted power, more still wanted to make the living like they were, and none wanted to be destroyed. Odium's eyes slowly went from black to red as he continued to draw on the force and mouth the words of the binding ritual. The red crystal began to give off it's own soft light as Odium channeled the force and bound the close spirits to the crystal. The force swirled and the darkness near him grew all the more intoxicating as ancient dark emotions filled his mind. They would feel him now as he drew on the dark side to bind the attracted spirits to the crystal.

He stopped only as he heard a rock scrape closer than he would have liked and he began to trot forward into the cave hopefully the vision he had from Isolda would lead to the holocron of graush and it's secrets. Odium thought of the woman behind and the person of light with her. They were hard to feel now but he had felt two enter and now heard feet in the distance. He reached out in the force and searched for the minds of the two as Isolda had taught him and he singled out the woman as a ball of delicious primal anger.

<<Come, Come to me,>> he called to her in the force, <<Take your kill.>>

Odium moved more and reached for the Man's mind and tried to control his own.

<<Help she's crazy,>> Odium called to the man, <<can't you feel her hate. Don't let her catch me, please.>>

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Kitt Solo"]

'great a forcie.' Aran thought, 'just what I needed today.'

Aran tested his reach with his feet and how much he had for movement with his body. It was more than he would have given a prisoner but why complain.

"Aran Ordo," he said curtly, "yeah I can take out a guard."

Aran watched as the rest of the already nutty bunch grew to a feverish level of angst and chaos. It was enough to rouse someone, a guard maybe. A figure walked in wearing a full cloak with the hood low over his face and a red laser sword looking thing in his hand. The red and black clothing looked like he was over doing the creepy vibe a touch as he moved into the holding area further and shouted.

"Enough!" the figured said sounding very odd indeed, "The Master will be back soon and give you your reward."

 

[Arumi Zy]

[member="Ashin Varanin"]

IOC sorry about delay my baby been sick

Arumi paced around her for a moment before before he chuckled " I prefer Arumi these days, a Sith Lord has far to much negative components to conquer the world of business" he stopped pacing " interestingly enough, despite the light side it is you. A new face, new scent and new calling, still you though" the sith removed his sun glasses " Though the two of us are beyond our life spans you have far more tricks then I do it seems"

Fidelis let out a deep laugh " Korriban is as much part of us as weare part of the force. It is the scorned lover, the forgotten mother, the daughter of our very existence. It calls to is to visit our memories, to remember our past" he put his glasses on and finally pointed at her BFG. " expecting a rancor?"

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Arumi Zy"]

Tension faded from her shoulders, apart from that portion required to keep the fifty cal steady on her back. "Arumi, then," she said with a nod. "I'm not surprised that you're putting your talents to a constructive ambition; I think those of us who taste enough of time realize that there's less satisfaction in destruction than there is in creation." She smiled faintly. "Most of the time."

She left unsaid the story of her rebirth, too complex and too emotional for the moment. "Korriban as the woman -- I could see that. Generations of geniuses and fools have looked to it for nurturance, for heritage. Ascetic austerity has a way of helping us understand where and what we are in relation to the universe, both in eternity and in infinity, and this world is classically austere. You could say that Korriban helps us get our bearings like a mother, challenges us like a lover, tells us what we'll become like a child. Well put, Arumi.

"The Order has few enough people over twenty-five, let alone people with a longer perspective. I'm what passes for an in-house Korriban expert at the moment, or at least I spend enough time here, checking on unknown arrivals. The rifle's one of a few I'm field testing. So far it's working well against tuk'ata and hssiss, but less than optimal against terentatek. For that, I've ordered something special from MandalTech. It amuses me that time and again, the powerful turn back to the people they call simple. The Mandalorians have virtues and skills that everyone else seems to have forgotten." Her head tilted. "I seem to recall that you claim that culture as well. I'm a little envious that you discovered it before I did. I completed my verd'goten into Clan Ordo not too long ago."

Her eyes tracked past him to the place where [member="Zaren Bouqi"] and [member="Graxin Rade"] were coming up the temple steps to this wide platform, just outside the entryway. "And here they are at last." She raised her voice. "False alarm, Bishop. Master Arumi was just leaving."

 

[Quinn Vos]

[member="Darth Odium"] [member="Ryan Korr"]

She moaned like a wounded animal as she was freed from the cloak but not its memories. Her breathing was ragged as she pressed her scratched and dirtied palms against her mud-streaked forehead. But she did not cower, she remained tall with her back straight. She stared at the red-head, the blue light casted an ethereal glow against his skin. Her eyes adjusted to the sudden light and her steady-gaze latched onto his. She wanted to make him understand. She wanted to make him see.

“Death. Too late. Death. He...”

Plain-lips pursed into a tight, line. Eyes blazed as Odium’s voice assaulted her mind. A low-growl stirred within the base of her throat and she turned away from the blue light.

“Death,” she whispered again, with more purpose. Without giving grey-eyes a second glance she took off into the darkness, fingers clutched an un-sheathed dagger. Deeper into the darkness she waded. The local spirits added to the building anger and frustration. She felt Odium’s force drain. She saw the tombs. She saw his master. She felt the beating heart of rock. It tugged at her, pulled at her.

Come further up, come further in. Come deeper. Take your kill.

Muscles burned as she sprinted into the depths. Then, she stopped, suddenly, a cloud of dirt and dust kicked around her scraped-feet. Head tilted to the side as she listened. He was close. She changed her approach to something more predatory. Even though the air was cooler, frigid even, droplets of sweat trickled down her skin. A red-glow, just for a second, anchored her attack. Using speed and stealth, she leaped to bring the biting edge of the dagger downward, toward what she thought was the nautolan’s upper thigh.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

"Death?" Ryan frowned stupidly. These catacombs were a place of the dead. Blast, practically the whole planet was one big burial tomb for genocidal Sith Lords. What did she mean 'death'? He didn't understand!

Before he could ask any follow ups, the mysterious huntress sprinted off into the black void of the infernal caverns. Cursing, Ryan followed after her, blue blade providing some relief against the cloying arms of darkness. He could hear the pant of her breathing just ahead and only managed to keep pace by drawing on the Force. Dead Stars, she was fast!

Without warning, a whimpering voice erupted in his mind. "Help she's crazy! Can't you feel her hate? Don't let her catch me, please."

"What in the Maw?" Ryan muttered, mind struggling to catch up just as his legs fought to keep abreast of the warrioress. He stumbled. He recognized the voice, or the feel of whoever was behind it, but from where? Those words. He could feel her hate, visceral and deadly. A dark serpent writhed inside her, begging to be unleashed. The hatred crackling from her heart produced a scent like the fresh fall of rain upon grime-slick asphalt, pungent and foul. Yet, some traces of sharp sweetness remained... the aroma of ozone preceding a storm. Was she crazy? No, no she was not insane, but she was very, very angry.

Thoughts dashing about in milliseconds, Korr regained his footing and flew after her. Cold air swept across his skin, producing goose bumps across his flesh that merged into a frigid tingle along his spine. Something was profoundly wrong. The darkness didn't just obscure his vision, it muddled his senses and drew upon primal urges. Korr felt heat rising in his chest, frustration and confusion.

Korr came into the tombs, skull pounding with a headache. Lungs burning, he glanced around. He could feel her here, and the Nautolan. Why did he feel so familiar? Why did-

Numb, horrified words slipped his lips, "Ket?"

Comprehension dawned, followed swiftly by a second wave of befuddlement. No, no, it didn't make sense. This Ket Vistas burned with an aphotic power of the Dark Side, a pale mirror image of the vast, ancient hatred of Korriban. The planet itself seemed to reach up then, coiling murk about him like a noose and drawing it tight. The headache pounded, a hammer inside his head ringing again and again until it reached an unbearable crescendo. Korr reached, desperate for relief from the strangling darkness, and tugged at power buried deep within himself.

He cast out a hand as he had done once before and willed the Force to burn bright. At once, the brilliance of a sun flared to life in his palm and bathed the whole cavern in a blinding radiance of pure white light.

[member="Darth Odium"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Quinn Vos"]

 

[Darth Isolda]

It was within the wake of that blinding light that would stir an imagery of a burning pyre's wildfire. WIthin that image would thrum the singular pulsating form of a woman in the center.

U̫ ̺͎̝̖̀c̡̼͎ͅi̗͕l͇̫̤̻̖͘i̷̺̲̱̟͍t̷͎̺h̹̱ ̪͉͓͟'̥w̴̞a̙͈͖̙͓̹̭r​

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There is no other choice.​

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͉U̵͎̹͇ ͎̺̳̫̀m͈̩̰͈̳̟en̞̝͞ ̲̱̦̻̖̀'͇̖͓̫w̼̩a̭̗̱̲̪͎͇͡r̡̖̣̼.̨̺̦̗̦̣̪​

​

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There is no other way.​

Those whispers would evolve into a chorus of haunting voices that seemed to alternatively boom and whisper around[member="Quinn Vos"], the sound seeming to reverberate within the very cavern she stood.

B͍̀o͉͍̫̜̦̰e͏̗̩͎͓̜͇̪ ̷͖̠̫̬̯̩͚m̤̙͔̳̮̯̲͢i̙̟̫̭̞̩n̝ ̧̪m̻̲̩̻͓̩eb̧͕̻̤i̛̳̣̘͎̖,̱̹͈̥͉̲̘​

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One of you must sacrifice.​

​

The words would echo with strength, feeding off building anger and frustration. Layered upon the memories lifted off the blade, the blood.​

̢̞̣̗͔͎B͉o͙̩̣̺͓͎̥e̬̳̠ ̰͙̺m̬͕͖͎͜i̜̬̗͇̱n҉̺̳̯̻̭͓ͅ ̛̪͉bá̩̪̦̳̩n͙͍̙̝̣ͅg̢̞̝̖̮͔͇̲o̭̱͚͠.͔̼̱​

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One of you must pay.​

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Aran Ordo"]

Stars, she hoped Aran wouldn't be this grumpy once he was freed from the wall and got some...better clothes on. Maybe irritability was just a Mando thing. Still, she had to focus less on his exposed chest and more on the creepy-henchman. The underestimator.

And so far, the only one. It made her pause. Why leave precious cargo with just one guard?

She didn't pause for long. With a subtle manipulation of the force, the Fringe high council member focused the natural anxiety in the room to the henchman. 'Swarm him and you'll feel better.'

"Show time sweetpie," she offered Aran a tight smile as she joined the other prisoners in the forming mob. Her footsteps were awkward and shuffled as she approached, due to the bindings. Still, she managed to elbow in with the rest of them, coming at the hooded man from the side. Fists came up in a double-fisted jab to box him on the ear as she transformed from a dazed prisoner to a focused fighter.

Just as quickly, she went for another hit, her movements focused on herding him toward Aran, disarming him, and not getting one of her limbs cut off from his weapon.

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Arumi Zy"]

Odium could feel her anger grow as the kiffar woman closed on him. He pulled off the night vision goggles and plunged them into his satchel then braced himself.

<<Yes embrace your anger and strike.>> He sent to the woman's mind as she advanced and did just that.

He clenched his teeth as the dagger fell and tried to leave his muscles loose to avoid extra trauma. The blade streaked like lightening as she let her hate for him and anger move her to attack. It was perfect, he could taste their positions with his head tresses and the emotions that they contained...it was beautiful. He watched the woman's form in the blue light of the Jedi's saber and smiled at the dagger pierced his thick leatheris trousers and the olive flesh beneath only stopping as it struck bone.

He whipped his head back and let out a silent laugh as the pain flooded his senses and was then promptly accepted as a part of him. He reached for her wrist as the dagger sat in his thigh and began to project his thoughts into her head, The cloak that was made of Nautolan skin, he showed her his brutal cultist parents and then the cloak and back, followed by the thoughts of how the galaxy really was from the prospective of a person who was never allowed to see anything but the horrific. At the same time he began the skill that had taken the lives of many including the sith lord and jedi padawan that lay in his necklace as well as the now myriad of spirits that were in the crystal. He showed them the life of those the Jedi had failed to protect and the events that led Ket Vista to die in the embrace of his own hatred and become Odium. In truth he had been a victim for a very long time but that had ended and now he was something...else.

The force drain lashed for them in an effort to weaken not kill, they would be useful alive.

His eyes were blinded by the force technique and the drain slowed but Odium in his broken mind was focused now on one thing, bringing them into his world. The images that had stopped as Korr blinded him soon resumed as Odium sought to overload their minds with the weakening drain, that he hoped would hit, and the terrible truth of his life and actions, only his future plans did he try and keep from them.

<<Hate me!>> Odium thought at them now embracing his own emotions, <<See me for what I am and Hate me!>>

 

[Not Ordo]

[member="Kitt Solo"]

Aran watched at the man with the red glowing weapon struck one of the mobbing prisoners. The glowing red blade bounced off and Aran recognized the man as on of the prisoners that had gone away with Odium before. The man threw a hand out at another person and nothing happened. The prisoner had somehow been convinced her was a Sithwhen he was nothing more than a former janitor whose mind had been broken by the Nautolan.

The man was hit by the Mousy brunette and stumbled toward Aran who kick his legs from beneath him and planted a heel against his jaw.

"Nice swing, slugger." Aran said to the woman as a sudden lurch said they had left hyperspace and sent some prisoners falling to the ground, "Did he have a key?"

As they were all milling about The only -real- treat aboard the ship stood in the door way holding a shock prod staff. The Gand Findsman set the butt of the staff against the deck and looked at the group with his large insectoid eyes.

"What are you doing?" he said calmly.

 

[Quinn Vos]

[member="Darth Odium"] [member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Ryan Korr"]

The dagger went in and the darkside ignited in her veins. Her hate spiked as she was assaulted on multiple fronts: blinded, mentally entrapped, and physically entrapped. Eyes closed as she was engulfed by the darkness. She stumbled and tried to wrench her wrist free from the nautolan's grasp, an anguished cry ripping from her throat.

But her strength was suddenly...gone.

Limbs felt like rubber and her legs trembled. The land-warrior felt like she was drowning underwater. Darth Odium's voice taunted her lack of muscle control and pushed her deeper into the depths of animosity as memory after memory hit against her. The kiffar's eyes glowed brightly in the darkness as the psychometry pushed her further over the edge.

"I. Hate. You," she growled and glared at him in the darkness, her eyes struggled to stay focused as her energy was sucked-out. She stumbled forward, falling to her knees in front of the sith. She hated him. She hated his master.

Muddied-hair dipped over her vision as her head drooped forward, chin falling to her chest. In that moment, she failed on multiple levels. Worst of all, she failed her old master, Qae Shena.

 

[Kitt Solo]

[member="Aran Ordo"]

"Aw, feth," myrtle-ellipses locked onto the Gand Findsman as she nearly hit the floor with some of the other prisoners. She didn't take her eyes off him as she spoke back to Aran. Just punch a few people and the Mando's attitude was already getting better.

"No. But he does." Raising her bound wrists, she wrapped the force around the Gand's belt-loop and yanked the silver-glinting key ring toward her and Aran, hard. Next, she hyped-up the emotion level of the fellow prisoners, suggesting that they rush the guy with the electric staff.

It wasn't easy. Most of them didn't want to come near that thing. She didn't blame them.

She caught the keys and shuffled back to Aran. "Be my eyes, darlin?" She turned her back on the Gand Findsman and trusted the Mando as she worked to free his wrists, first.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

Awash in a white glow, Ryan saw the two forms before him. The warrioress, her dagger plunged into the Nautolan... and Ket, Ket Vistas. A padawan Ryan had seen not so long ago on Tython. But the aphotic power pouring from Ket was not that of a Jedi padawan, but of one consumed by the Dark Side. Even as he light seared from Ryan's palms to burn away the physical darkness, tendrils of insidious night crept inside his mind.

Light turned to fire and he heard a woman's voice inside his mind. Sacrifice. Sacrifice. Sacrifice.

The words used his head as an anvil, hammering, trying to break him. Ryan grit his teeth and stumbled forward, toward the pair, light still pouring from his palm. Another presence touched his mind, slick and oily. Images flashed through his thoughts as Ket Vistas revealed himself as Darth Odium. Ryan felt his pain, the pain of a being who had only known a life full of despair. And he felt his anger, rife with suffering. The Jedi's face twisted with grief as he witnessed the failures of his Order.

Energy sapped from Korr as strength bled from him. Narrowed, grey eyes watched helplessly as the warrioress fell to her knees and uttered words of hatred.

"No," he rasped, voice weak. The light flickered in his palm, fading swiftly. "No!"

Sacrifice.

More images of Odium's life assaulted his mind and he felt such terrible rage as Odium's fury mixed with his own inner tempest. He felt the Dark revel as the hurricane of emotions within him rose to the surface. Memories from his life surfaced. He held dying friends in his arms, slaved under the Vong, and watched his Master's betrayal.

Anguish and despair drove him to his knees, but one memory rose above the rest.

In the depths of his forlorn hope came a face. Eris, the girl he'd loved when but a foolish boy. The girl he'd watched die on Ossus, along with so many others. But he did not remember her as the burnt and bloodied corpse, but as the friend who'd been there for him in his darkest times.

Even now she came to him, a memory of light... a time when the worst he faced was teasing.

"He shouldn't have said those things."

"I hate him... does that make me a bad Jedi?"

"Oh, Ryan, everyone feels. We just have to know how to forgive."

"He doesn't deserve it."

"Do any of us? Let the Force in, Ryan."

Let the Force in.

Desperately, Ryan reached even as the light from his palm flickered out. He searched not for power to escape, but for some way, some strength to protect the woman near him from all this hate. His mind touched the peace of Light and he breathed in deep. Soothing waves of serenity wrapped around him even as his strength waned.

His lightsaber cast a blue glow across the Nautolan's features and he looked on him anew. I understand his pain. I know his suffering.

"Ket!" Ryan cried, voice weak and raw, "I hear you... I hear your agony... and your sorrow... and your loss..." Korr's breath was ragged.

The scar-worn Jedi Knight struggled, features contorting. If he fought he would lose. He could feel the anger inside him still. If he fought, the Dark Side would have him. With one, simple movement he thumbed his lightsaber off. The blue glow extinguished, leaving them all in darkness.

"But... I... do... not... hate... you."

Ryan drew in another deep breath and stretched out in the Force, grabbing tendrils of Dark Side that he felt wrapped around the woman and ripping them away from her. He dragged them to himself, taking the full brunt of the Force Drain.

"Sacrifice," he rasped, falling forward onto his hands.

Life would awaken once more inside [member="Quinn Vos"], life and strength.

[member="Darth Odium"] [member="Darth Isolda"]

 

[Darth Odium]

[member="Darth Isolda"] [member="Quinn Vos"] [member="Ryan Korr"]

Odium slowly drew the life from them both. The woman's words brought Odium the closest thing to happiness he could experience but his grip on the man was not as firm. He resisted the hate Odium desired to plant in his bitter heart.

He didn't hate him but he would still fall. The young knight used the force to pull the full drain into him and Odium did not resist. The world became dark again as his vision cleared and pulled the woman's wrist up with the dagger still in her hand and turned it toward her stomach with intent to drive it into her stomach effectively putting his blood in her body.

<<You don't hate me now>> Odium said as he tried to stab the woman with her bloody dagger, << but you will jedai, you will.>>

As he stabbed at the woman his foot kicked sideways at where he was draining the man. He needed to end this soon before the others on the surface decided to come and end his search.

 

[Quinn Vos]

Vision went in and out as she experienced memory after memory of Darth Odium. Teeth ground in her mouth, until her jaw was sore. She fumbled to put up walls, mental barriers, anything to block him out. Her anger seemed to grow in desperation, like a caged animal.

But then the redhead spoke. His voice was quiet and part of her wondered if she just imagined hearing it. But her rag-doll puppet-strings were loosened as Ryan took the full brunt of the force drain. Korr's calm and surrender brushed against her hot wall of anger like a cool breeze. Vision-cleared and she regained some of her finer motor movements, becoming aware enough to realize the impact path of her own dagger.

She grunted and tensed her arm as she pitched herself to the side. She felt the dagger tip bite in and graze along her stomach, shallowly slicing it to her hip before she had enough sense to release the hilt. Her free hand was already on her second dagger and she went to plunge it toward Odium's knee as her body fell to the cave-floor. She felt a duty to not only stop Odium - for her own sanity - but to protect the redhead.

Darth Odium's blood mixed with hers and sent her into an unconscious, downward spiral of twisted and dark memories a thousand times stronger than when he first touched her wrist. Overwhelmed, used, and lost in a new sea of twisted anger, her body stilled against the cavern floor as scarlet trickled down her dirt-streaked skin.

[member="Darth Odium"] [member="Ryan Korr"]