The Shine of Blood

[Sal Katarn]

The interior of the shuttle was cold, but it was not the subzero chill of Alzoc III. Duvain had foregone the white fur of skinned Talz in favor of a black leather coat he'd found in one of the crew quarters. He'd scavenged around and found similarly appropriate apparel. Now, dressed head to toe in grim hues of black and grey, he at last felt free of the planet which had been his icy prison for over three hundred years.

He had this creature, Nazo, to thank for it. The memories of the human he'd killed, Anaudius, were tinged by a perception of Nazo as an enigmatic being. Duvain did not consider him such. The Wol had merely evolved beyond the human's capacity for understanding. Anaudius had been blinded by belief in his gods. Such zealotry created a ceiling that he could not pass. Duvain had no such impediments. After some thought, he'd retracted his earlier statement to the human.

If gods ruled these mortals, then Duvain was a god. He was created by mortals to rule mortals. It was his destiny.

Nazo held another destiny, one which he would help the being fulfill. They were alike in their nature, though on separate ends of the food chain. Duvain stayed his hunger, mostly because he had not yet figured out a way to devour Nazo, but also due to the fact that the being roused his curiosity. Nazo wished to create a blade such as the one Duvain now possessed... and the Hybrid had stripped Anaudius of the knowledge on how to make such a saber. He could teach the Wol, but first they needed to acquire a forge.

This was why their shuttle had settled onto the surface of Ventooine, just outside an abandoned New Order fortress. The pyramidal structure was a common architecture on this world. Duvain blinked slowly as he shifted through foreign memories. The experience of possessing first-hand experience from another sentient was... interesting. Duvain did not in truth know how he had come to acquire the power. He'd acted instinctively. Perhaps it was simply part of how he had been created, the same as the eternal hunger that clawed within.

The ramp lowered and Duvain stepped onto the surface of the planet, glancing back at Nazo.

"The memories of your former companion indicate that this fortress may posses a forge. Perhaps his belief in this will prove more reliant than his faith in his gods."

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

Misanthropic till the end; Nazo had felt nothing of remorse or regret at the loss of Anaudius as a galactic companion. Even as he had watched the human succumb to his frail condition. Wounded mortally, and then stripped of every vestige of thought and purpose until nothing but a shallow husk had been given into the crimson stained snowbanks. While having never encoutered that of Duvain's kind, he had recognized the exchange almost instantly, gathering that the transfer of life had taken with it, the knowledge and power that the dark prophet had. Those self same powers and intellectual prowess were now resting inside the form of a far more sturdy, but still bipedal, Duvain. If only all creatures could pass on their knowledge to a worthy successor in this light, there might be less secrets in the Galaxy, and a more evolved understanding of each sentients place within it. All Nazo had seen on Alzoc III was efficient progress, and he rather enjoyed the idea.

Aboard the stolen Mandalorian transport, his only friend in the Galaxy seemed to be getting a little stir-crazy due to the cooped up nature on two planets now. The mutated Gizka did not like enclosed spaces for too long, and would start to get a heft case of cabin fever should the voyage be too long. There was also a serious lack of anything to chase and eat within the ship - save the protein bars in every color of the rainbow. Though despite the confines, the cold had slowed the lizard down, forcing it to retreat often to the heat lamps on board in order to re-kindle its energy. Nazo however had taken to understanding the piloting skills that Duvain had absorbed. Mechanics were often not as much of an interest as the esoteric philosophy that his species was famous for. Still, they had use and they had purpose. If he was going to continue moving about inside ships, rather than riding attached to their outer hull, he saw the need for eventual ability to pilot a ship to some degree.

Duvain interested Nazo in several ways - as the space slug wished to receive knowledge that he held, as well as what he had absorbed. The mysteries of the Force were still quite new to him, but he was beginning to understand, and had started to channel the emotions into raw constructs of the Force. The dark side bathed him in a new-found strength that he found most useful in keeping his strength up. While his species was quite hardy, especially after a good feeding, it could be physically draining to manipulate the magnetic field for larger projects. Even the continual movement of his exoskeleton required constant attention. The Force boosted his energy reserves, allowing him to stretch out and reach for things he hadn't attempted before. Duvain, unlike Anaudius, spoke audibly rather than telepathically - a trait Nazo would never accomplish. It allowed a more fluid conversation to be had, though from the outside it seemed entirely one sided. The Soul Saber was one of these such talks, and had spurred the space slug into a curiosity on its design and usage. He could feel the magnetic resonance of the blade's emission field hum in such closed spaces. Thus it was decided to investigate the ability to craft one of his own.

Ventooine was abandoned as the pair stepped off the transport and onto the rocky cliff. The Gizka finally freed from the confines of the shuttle also joined the pair, happily bounding around to revel in the freedom of a planet to explore. It wouldn't be long until the bright crimson scales raised in brightness and the lizard went on the hunt for bugs and other small insect like creatures to destroy and devour. Those that devoured seemed to attract the curious wanderer - and form something of a kindred spirit with such an alien creature. It was one of the reasons that he had accepted Duvain as a replacement, as he too felt the hunger pains well over him on a continual basis. Their task however righted his porcelain mask from the scampering talons of his friend and towards Duvain and his sentiment about the faith Anaudius had held.

"Servants do not Masters make - though this knowledge is objective. Static. Favorable." His telepathic musings came to the mind of Duvain while they approached the large ziggurat before them. The edifice dark and uninviting remained a shallow and empty ruin to the fall of this other brand of Sith allegiance. He'd not seen the need to really convert to an ideal that wasn't selfish. Steps were taken measuring into the dark tomb like fortress where there was rumors of a forge. Anaudius had been a servant of Liad, and while Nazo had never made mention of the lack of faith he had in these thought to be fictitious gods, he hadn't agreed either. Duvain trusted in only himself, and that spoke volumes more in line with Nazo's opinion of the matter.

[member="Duvain"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

"Servants, masters, it is all irrelevant. I believe in no such terms." He talked as he walked, boots crunching against dirt as they made their way into the abandoned fortress. "There are predators and there are prey. I did not choose to be the hunter. I was created. A copy of other, weaker beings and melded into something greater. They sought to control me, to use me. But they were weak. The were prey. So I devoured their brains and stripped them of their knowledge. Knowledge they were not worthy enough to retain."

Eyes as red as volcanic fire turned to regard the tall, masked vessel.

"Are you worthy?"

A malevolent smile burned in his eyes, but did not trickle down to the hewn features of his gray face.

Darkness swallowed them then, as they stepped inside, but what did these two beings have to fear from the dark? Duvain made his home in the night, when passions rose as the sun set. Wicked deeds happened beneath stars' light, but so did acts of mystery and wonder. In the dark Duvain walked and in the dark he would reside. Light held no mysteries. Light was honest. Light was foolish. It sought to reveal that which it did not understand, but only succeeded in scattering the deep enigmas to shadowy corners and farther out of reach. Ever a step behind.

The forge happened to be situated near the front of the building and it did not take long for them to reach it, though the fires had long since gone out.

[member="Nazo"]

 

[Nazo]

Of stark contrast was the state of mind between the former prophet of Liad, and the current Gray Hunter. Anaudius had spoken of the Pantheon - of the gods he served, and proselytized to the wandering space slug. The form and function of the scarred and burned latter incarnation of Seth Shorn was now only but a memory, or memories dependent on point of view. Duvain had wrought destruction on Alzoc III, and it had come with the turning of the page in this chapter of Nazo's long life. Duvain bested him in time in the Galaxy, although his imprisonment on the ice world had limited his reach severely. Nazo had traveled far and wide within the cosmos, pontificating the great and terrible mysteries that rang throughout the star-lit sky. Duvain did not see this galaxy as belonging to any gods or deities whether in great number of in the singular theocracy that some held claim. There was only a signal dichotomy that rang true in the Anzati's mind. He was a Hunter, who had chosen to fulfill Nazo's request, and aide the slug in this notion to craft the light blade seen by many of the darker persuasion.

"I retain all." Nazo answered in his telepathic tone, ringing in the mind of the hunter as the darkness enveloped their forms and shrouded the inner sanctum that had once beat ripe with the blood and flesh of bipedal sentients striving towards a goal of power and tyranny. The lanky robed frame of the creature shifted to flank his hybrid companion, taking step by measured step deeper into the heart of the pyramid like structure. For over two centuries Nazo gleaned from observance the musings, the nature, and the knowledge of the sentient creatures he had witnessed. From text he read at the far corners of the spinning Galaxy and everywhere in between. Whatever Nazo observed, he learned. Whatever he learned, he understood -- and whatever he understood - he never let go of. There was of course a limit as to how much he could retain, but it had not been reached nor had it been tested.

The air around them, arid and stale - the life that had once subjugated this place had been snuffed out or abandoned. All that remained of the temple they stood in had been hollowed out and then ignored. Despite the darkness that wafted over them, this had been a place of light. In the literal sense, burning embers had roared out glowing red and orange shades against the backdrop of stone and mortar. Sentients had used this very forge to craft for them synthesized crystals to be usable in newly constructed blades. However, in the haste of power, in the mad scramble for a higher calling, the remnants of this order had fled. The dying of that glowing light has symbolized their own flame of order and reason snuffed out by pride and ego. Now before them the cold and lifeless forge echoed back it's resonance of futility. Nazo's metallic hands touched the cool surface searching it for whatever had been used here before. The forge was old, but it was not ancient. This was a mechanical marvel that required power, and that was the slug's first inclination as he stepped around the large structure in search of a way to resurge the energy that would be needed to fire the kiln and create another of these coveted crystals.

"This heart of darkness once burned to ignite the blades of many. It must burn only once more to craft a single stone more." His musings continued in their telepathic delivery while he searched the ground below. The slug's visual sight couldn't penetrate the darkness, but the innate metallic resonance could. Like a second sight, he used it to radiate and ping on items of metallic content enough to gain his bearings. Metallic digits clinked something lightly on the dirt floor which was soon grasped and studied. A stray power core that had been discarded in the haste to leave this place. In mere seconds Nazo had divined the origin of it's placement and set it into motion. The core's power radiated into the machine bringing life to it's cause. The kiln firing up, turning the heat within into an inferno quickly. Light began to ebb from both the core and the forge as Nazo stood up on the other side of the Forge from Duvain, the porcelain mask nearly glowing with the residual light and heat, as if he himself were part of the blaze.

[member="Duvain"]

 

[Sal Katarn]

The Hunter watched his pupil's actions with interest, for though he retained the knowledge of such workings he had never experienced them first hand. Strange, to know so much but have done so little. The fires of the forge rose up, reflected by Duvain's red-orange gaze. He turned slowly to regard [member="Nazo"].

The answer given was atypical of the Wol. Not a categorical yes or no, but something other. Hints and riddles and nonsense words. Duvain could not tell if such acts were done out of amusement or were simply in the creature's nature. Yet he said he retained all, which meant far more than simply recalling information.

Face still set in the perpetual glower, Duvain began instructing the Wol. "I see you learn quickly. Good. With the forge activated you can now create the synthetic crystal. Your former mentor's memories reveal that you must concentrate your efforts on shaping the crystal with the Force while the forge compresses it. It must resemble a natural crystal, but without flaws or imperfections. Those are anathema to us and so must be lacking in our creations. This can take... a long time. I shall not assist you in this process. If you wish to succeed you will do so on your own."

Then the Hybrid promptly removed himself from the room, melding into the shadows as he searched the rest of the fortress for the ten hours it would take for Nazo to create his crystal.

 

[Nazo]

As avarice an appetite as the space slug held, his thirst for knowledge and ability to understand and comprehend complexity was equally compelling and insatiable. Synthetic crystals for lightsaber creation was not a new process - in fact it was quite old. Ever since he had set out with Anaudius from the confines of Korriban, Nazo had endeavored to learn everything he would possibly need in order to alter the geological processes to shape and create a crystal that would act as the basis for the signature weapon of these enigmatic users of the Force. Proper preparation was important in any task, especially one that would require the robed figure to marshal his senses, and delve into the riches of the Force to concentrate and shape the very physical laws of nature in order to grow the crystal from basically scratch. This was the first true test of an initiate into the order; or so he was instructed. While Duvain had inherited the knowledge and the blade of the former - Nazo was set to craft his own, a personal journey and first fledgling steps into a greater and more immerse world.

Several raw materials had been gathered, having come across them on the four planets he had now occupied. Drawing open the compression tube, Nazo flicked the materials into the holding cylinder before he took his place before the forge itself and found a seated position to fully delve into the Force. He wanted no distractions for this process, and even having to manipulate his metallic exoskeleton was something he wasn't affording himself. The constant magnetic cling over the years had already held his artificial durasteel form in place, so seated was the perfect position. He could feel the intense heat within the forge ebb out with a bright and brilliant yellow and orange glow. The slug inside quieted his cognitive mind and rested his thoughts for the task. The secret was in the emotions he knew - the emotions he studied. They were all so rich and diverse, but potent and powerful at the same junction. The masked head slumped forward slightly as if a being of his size and shape were but slumbering - and yet that was furthest from the truth.

Recollecting with perfect precision, Nazo delved into his days near the med bay on a luxury liner vehicle. Long before he had constructed his body, when he was just getting a sampling -- a taste of things to come. The emotions that rang throughout the medical facility called to him like beacon of power. Drawn to the energy like a mynock to power cables. He felt the surge of energy flow through him, extending beyond his physical form encased inside the chest cavity of the mobile frame. It spread out like a wave of dark purpose reaching out with unseen hands, seeking and testing the limits of it's scope. Broadening by a force of will, the sphere of influence pulsed outwards, ping the area like a sense of sonar, identifying everything. The forge, the materials, the heat - the light. Everything the Force touched it answered back until he felt the materials in the kiln raised in temperature.

These raw materials caught his focus, and the sphere of influence tightened considerably, precisely picking out the size and shape of the materials at hand. His will poured out of him, as he grasped them in unseen hands and pressed the materials together to fuse in the ardent heat, pushing them to merge together into one clump of which he'd use to painstakingly shape the crystal's properties. Another memory flooded in, this time he was on Korriban where he had met the Dark Prophet. The large statues that littered the plains of the desolate rock lay in partial ruin. The Sith kings of old sleeping in their eternal slumber, and yet the planet was alive with the emotions of the damned. Several Mandalorians joined that unearthly chorus of souls trapped for all eternity. Their sorrow, their anguish, their despair. It fueled the dark slug. It gave him power, made him stronger, and focused his mind.

A quick study, Nazo understood the properties he was manipulating, and even more than that as the Force spoke to him about his task, it gave him clarity and understanding he had not yet attained. It opened his mind to connect various loose pieces of data and conform them into a masterpiece of wisdom that would certainly aide in this creation. As if the Force itself was an ever learning entity that wished to pass it's collected knowledge from eon to eon, and generation to generation. As much as Duvain was his mentor, the Force would also tutor the slug and gain him insight into the world around him. Time began to slip away from the motionless figure seated on the floor before the Forge. Minutes turned into hours, and hours ticked by without a single shift in his position. While appearing to do nothing, the intricacy of his craft to mold and shape this crystal was paramount, and anyone with a smattering of Force affinity would certainly feel his level of concentration. It did not waver, it did not shift. He was resolute in this task, and his soul continued to speak with untold vigor to the crystal as it slowly, and tediously formed itself within the searing heat within.

The passage of time, or even the arrival of Duvain was not recognized or considered during the process. The only measurement of his success lay in the knowledge and connection he had with the crystal within the Forge. He could see every facet, every corner, feel every imperfection as it slowly melted away, cleaning up the prism like design of this small crystal formation. Only when the last piece of this grand jigsaw puzzle finally sealed into place, and the work had been abated did his concentration wane and fade. The durasteel shoulders of the skeleton slumped further as reality returned. Nazo had no knowledge of exactly how much time had passed - all he did know is that the crystal was done, and the Forge was powering down on its own; the power core being depleted.

[member="Duvain"]