The Vile Investigation...

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Above Cularin - sight of "The Blink"...
Aboard The Thorn...

Billions. Billions were gone. In an instant, there were billions of people that simply vanished into the thin air... the abyss... they became: absence. All around the galaxy, whether to his knowledge or not, people that were once there, no longer were. Of course, the Hutt wouldn't mind this... and wouldn't care much either. However, there was an additional effect to their leaving, that made the slug... irritable, to say the least. If not for the ship his consciousness was currently attached to, a nearly overwhelming pressure would build upon the temples of his mind, that negated any focus or influence he had over the force. His ancient soul was being cut up by the now erratic and serrated pattern of the force these days; disrupted by the tears in reality between the realm of Chaos and the Netherworld, and the rest of the galaxy. There were methods that the psychopath had discovered to find therapy in this eon of pain, such as expanding ones awareness beyond the self to command his fleshy vong ship, as well as a large supply of living "Friends" to lash out upon when he could not pilot his ship.

One reason why the Hutt was arriving upon this world, was merely because of fate. The slimy bastard often let destiny take the wheel in where he would arrive next, and so far it had served him well enough. Another reason could be however, is a subconscious mission to understand the complexities of what was wrong with the force, and finding the only known place where millions or billions of people simply vanished from the galaxy for ten years: Cularin, otherwise known as the sight of "The Blink". There was a vague possible connection here, that if the Spirit of Chael had sane control over his host, he might have scientifically investigated the world to determine some illness present within the force. Of course, the identity of Chael has long been overshadowed and indeed, overpowered by later, stronger personalities. Even still, another draw to this world was the historical presence of "The Darkstaff", that while sufficiently destroyed, would have been an interest of Darth Durablis to study.

Thus it could be said, that the jumbled up, garbled mind of Zambrano did not seek the world of his own accord, but of an accord from within himself. Regardless of the motives however, the slug apprehensively removed the shroud from his massive head, howling momentarily in pain before coming to terms with a nearby friend. Dragging the corpse along for the ride, the Hutt entered his old Sail Barge, and made his way down to the surface of the planet, sitting upon a Throne of rotten flesh... the meat of the slain no longer fresh, and the stench ten fold worse than what was usually present. Floating upon his Throne of Horrors, Zambrano the Vile, Diseased, Hutt descended upon a hapless residency, shocked by his appearance and observable temperament, as he held in his meaty grip the bloody poisoned barbed whip that ripped the flesh of hundreds.

In a fit of pain driven rage, Zambrano lashed out onto the populace, tearing apart of the flesh of those unfortunate enough to be within the range of his reach, who would become immobile to witness further horrors should they not be relieved by death or otherwise be forgotten...

[member="Lord Kataklysmos"]

 

[Lord Kataklysmos]

Kataklysmos had foreseen this instance in his mind's eye nearly an hour before it had occurred and yet he did nothing to stop it. He simply moved down from his mountain to re-witness the carnage. He sat in the middle of the town, on the edge of a worn down fountain, in the cool shade of an old tree. He listened as the screams grew closer but did not look in the direction of the sounds. He just stared at a bird curled up in its nest in the tree that provided him shade.

The bird seemed scared for its eggs and hid them beneath her body. It was a curious instance. Amongst the panic he remained calm and admired nature. A few moments later a man with his back split open approached the Sith Lord. He tugged on the cloak of Kataklysmos as if to warn him of the oncoming danger. Kataklysmos looked at the poor sap and placed his hand upon the man's head.

"Be not afraid." He said with a crooked smile and malice in his eyes. The man smiled now as if under some sort of influence, it was as if Kataklysmos had the man under some sort of spell.

The Sith Lord pulled a lightsaber from his cloak and handed it to the man. The man with no prior training lifted the hilt and turned around to face the vile slug. He activated the blade and let out a bloodthirsty roar. He spun the blade around as if he were an expert and Lord Kataklysmos returned to gazing up at the bird.

 

[Zambrano the Starweird]

Howling in pain, Zambrano aimlessly pursued a victim, oblivious to anyone but him. It was unfortunate for him, that the Hutt narrowed his vision to him and only him. The man represented everything that he desired: flesh. He was the nearest flesh, the closest flesh, and the most desirable of all flesh because of those two features. He yearned and longed to see it opened, bleeding, exposed to the natural environment. He wanted to grip it in his hands, and press it into the folds of his body; sip at the fluids, and complete obscene pseudo rituals with whatever remained for his goreish desire. Finally, he yelped in a feeble expression of glee, as with the exhaustion of his tired muscles, the whip tore through the cloth of his back, sinking the paralytic barbs into the humans muscular back. The cloth soaked up some of the poison, but the deeply rooted barbs hooking through the flesh exposed the blood stream to a muscle relaxant that inevitably locked out control from the central nervous system within only but a few moments, and with it delivered the slug yanked the deadly cable back, taking with it huge chunks of the victims back. Slightly satisfied, and while distracted by a wave of pain (caused likely, but the presence of the Sith Lord), the man whose back was exposed to all the world tugged at the cloth of the eerily calm stranger.

Seeing his victim once more, when the new pain became more accustomed to, the Hutt resumed his repulsorlift assisted charge. Even as the blade ignited, the Hutt expressed no change in facial expression, no level of surprise... he was utterly unperturbed by the prospect that his victim held the superior weapon, and seemed to out of no where have full control over its mastery. Indeed, nothing additional went through the mind of the serpentine Sith, as it was all insatiate desire. As always, looking for pain rather than slaughter, Zambrano swung the whip once more with lightning speed that physically drained him, but matter little to him in his state of pure adrenaline. It was sweep below his opponent, who may begin to find it difficult to use the muscles surrounding his gaping wound. Movement in the shoulders and the hips would become sluggish, and slowly uncoordinated. Already, his back would be deemed fairly inoperable, so the ability of lifting was immediately desolated.

Zambrano grunted, screamed, howled, and moaned, but paid no heed to the Master behind the lightsaber wielder before him, all he could see was his desire....

[member="Lord Kataklysmos"]