Dathomir
The interior of Caid's modest tent was pitch-black. The warriors serving in his grandmother's clan had been under the forty-year old Centurion's command for going on six years now, but he never truly felt at home. In the end of the day he was his father's son, and he longed for the unpredictable adventure of the stars.
The apparent serenity of the Captain's tent, however, ended with the subtle darkness. Atop a bed of furs, Caid's large frame writhed sporadically. The warrior was clearly dreaming, but it seemed a rather torturous sort.
Images of a slender lady in gray played across Caid's mind. The softness of her siren call spoke out...but not to him specifically. It cried for release, deliverance from the pain that was clearly rippling through the woman's body. Unmistakable pale aquamarine eyes thrashed randomly in conjunction with the remainder of [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]'s body.
Caid struggled to reach out, to grasp the woman's arm and drag her to safety, but he found it nigh on impossible. The Dathomiri was not really there. Caid simply did not have the power, the strength to clarify the dream he was having, to have an effect beyond the ether of the Force. Why was this even happening? She had been a woman that he'd met once...so long ago it seemed, during his days with the Republic. The young Centurion had told himself constantly in the wake of the meeting that it was mere intrigue which caused thoughts of her to continuously radiate through his mind.
As the vision began to fade, Caid witnessed the woman's body beginning to convulse. Just as she spat blood from her mouth, the vision ended and Caid's eyes shot open. Bolting upright, Caid's chest heaved with deep, labored breaths. Sweat had formed along his exposed upper body. For several moments, Caid merely attempted to force the fog of his dreams to lift.
Swinging his legs out over the side of the bed, the large warrior came to his feet and immediately stalked out of his tent into the crisp evening air. Placing his hands on his hips, Caid cast his bright silver-green gaze towards the stars. For several minutes only the sounds of his breathing stabilizing joined the typical sounds of nature.
Though Caid recognized the vision for what it was, he simply had far too little exposure to such. It was a matter that he needed to take to his grandmother.
Unfortunately...
----------
Two Hours Later...
Following the ninety-minute lecture he'd had to endure, Caid's grandmother had deigned to help him navigate the depths of the vision he'd experienced. Dressed in a simple pair of black pants and a long-sleeve, gray shirt, Caid stalked across the wilderness towards the location where he kept his VCX-100. Given his clans particular proclivity towards shunning most elements of technology, Caid kept the vessel hidden among dense shrubbery.
Roughly an hour later, the light freighter was rocketing towards orbit. His destination...the Mid-Rim.
[member="Darth Isolda"]
The interior of Caid's modest tent was pitch-black. The warriors serving in his grandmother's clan had been under the forty-year old Centurion's command for going on six years now, but he never truly felt at home. In the end of the day he was his father's son, and he longed for the unpredictable adventure of the stars.
The apparent serenity of the Captain's tent, however, ended with the subtle darkness. Atop a bed of furs, Caid's large frame writhed sporadically. The warrior was clearly dreaming, but it seemed a rather torturous sort.
Images of a slender lady in gray played across Caid's mind. The softness of her siren call spoke out...but not to him specifically. It cried for release, deliverance from the pain that was clearly rippling through the woman's body. Unmistakable pale aquamarine eyes thrashed randomly in conjunction with the remainder of [member="Ozmeri Gitana'ti"]'s body.
Caid struggled to reach out, to grasp the woman's arm and drag her to safety, but he found it nigh on impossible. The Dathomiri was not really there. Caid simply did not have the power, the strength to clarify the dream he was having, to have an effect beyond the ether of the Force. Why was this even happening? She had been a woman that he'd met once...so long ago it seemed, during his days with the Republic. The young Centurion had told himself constantly in the wake of the meeting that it was mere intrigue which caused thoughts of her to continuously radiate through his mind.
As the vision began to fade, Caid witnessed the woman's body beginning to convulse. Just as she spat blood from her mouth, the vision ended and Caid's eyes shot open. Bolting upright, Caid's chest heaved with deep, labored breaths. Sweat had formed along his exposed upper body. For several moments, Caid merely attempted to force the fog of his dreams to lift.
Swinging his legs out over the side of the bed, the large warrior came to his feet and immediately stalked out of his tent into the crisp evening air. Placing his hands on his hips, Caid cast his bright silver-green gaze towards the stars. For several minutes only the sounds of his breathing stabilizing joined the typical sounds of nature.
Though Caid recognized the vision for what it was, he simply had far too little exposure to such. It was a matter that he needed to take to his grandmother.
Unfortunately...
----------
Two Hours Later...
Following the ninety-minute lecture he'd had to endure, Caid's grandmother had deigned to help him navigate the depths of the vision he'd experienced. Dressed in a simple pair of black pants and a long-sleeve, gray shirt, Caid stalked across the wilderness towards the location where he kept his VCX-100. Given his clans particular proclivity towards shunning most elements of technology, Caid kept the vessel hidden among dense shrubbery.
Roughly an hour later, the light freighter was rocketing towards orbit. His destination...the Mid-Rim.
[member="Darth Isolda"]
