The Weak Will Always Remain So

[Kruel Zing]

Sitting on the throne built into the command bridge of the Infineon, Darth Ambroscus looked out the wide viewport at the shuttle that had recently exited from hyperspace. Most likely to do a jump on a different set of coordinates but before they would be able to the Sith planned to claim the shuttle and strip it of all the contents. Since the Infineon had embarked from Rakata Prime their supplies had begun to reach an all-time low. The Sith and troopers on board had been forced to ration themselves when eating as the Infineon hadn’t made port with any planets recently. In secrecy Ambroscus had planned this, having the ship leave with too little food for the entire vessel. It seeded out the weak and showed their true nature. A test some would call it and the Dashade’s followers passed with flying colors. None had let themselves be broken by the hunger that racked their bellies. That would bring a mundane being to their knees. No, they stood tall, and for that they would feast on this night. Both on blood, and whatever stores the shuttle carried.

Considering the Infineon had once been a battleship during the Great Sith Wars it would be more than adequate for taking on a basic transport shuttle. “Activate Ion Cannons.” The shuttle ahead must’ve been processing its next jump coordinates but before they could escape Kruel bellowed “FIRE!” With a resounding echo all twelve Ion cannons of the vessel fired crossing the great expanse. Three of the shots flew wide of the target while the rest struck its hull bathing it in darkness and stripping the ship of many of the key systems. Kruel need not give more commands as all six of the tractor beams pulled the shuttle towards the ship. Even across the distance Kruel could feel the fear of the innocents upon the transport. How they wondered what was happening, how could they be so unfortunate, what did their captors have in store for them. Yes and it all fed Kruel, while his disciples needed to feed on the baser food of the mundane Kruel had ascended to where the emotions of others sustained him.

Extending from the Infineon was a gangway that connected it to the shuttle, in an instant over two dozen Sith acolytes and troopers flooded it storming onto the vessel not yet slaughtering the occupants but more corralling them like cattle to the slaughter. There could possibly be a few worthy of joining the Sith ranks. There was nothing worse than wasting potential. Standing from the throne Kruel turned his back strolling out of the bridge to join his soldiers on the shuttle. He had felt a unique presence radiating from the vessel and wished to examine it himself.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

With the ships interior lighting knocked out by the Infineon's ion barrage, its passengers panicked en masse as from each passenger section of the ship; simultaneous cries of terror and confusion rang about as those who were not seated stumbled about with no sense of where to go. Moments after the lights went out, more of the Infineons valley landed and knocked out the gravity generators, leaving passengers to float without direction as the assaulting force swept through and found themselves able to simply pluck those with promise out from the air as if they'd been grabbing snacks from a supermarkets food aisle.

With all but the last of the passengers secured the troopers reached one of the final sections, and if they had taken the oppurtunity to intensly question those they had already captured. Would have heard rumours of plague about it. Its door had been vacuum sealed from the outside where the troops gathered, and its control panels disconnected by the bridge. Life scans indicated the presence of a few hardy survivors, while those with the ability to sense the emotions of others felt a mix of stillness, unnatural calm, emotional distance, and unbriddled terror from within.

Whether they cut through the doors or blasted them inwards, they were met with silence and darkness on the inside of the hallway. Which appeared empty but for heaps of luggage, suitcases and bags piled by the door. As they moved further inside, and assumedly made use of gun mounted flashlights, night vision or any number of abilities o technology that would have allowed them to see in the dark. It became apparent their initial view of an empty hall was misleading, laid in the middle of the baggage. -Back against the wall and head limp- Was a middle aged man who had recently died, his eyes were closed and his still cheeks wet. His lower jaw hung open loosely, with severe burns leading up from the roof of his mouth. Beside him, a blaster pistol. It appeared he had shot himself soon after the doors were sealed.

In front of the dead man, one of the passenger room doors lay open, and inside it laid the body of a woman of a similar age to him. She had been shot, the wound being similar to that of the one that dead man outside had, but unlike him her eyes were still open. Staring up from the bed as if she had not even noticed her husband preparing to shoot her. The rest of her body was stiff, and from the smell it would appear she had been there for some time even before he had killed her.

Leaving the room, the hall would go on.

[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

Crossing the gangway with two Sith troopers on each side of himself Kruel took in a long and deep breath. The fear and terror among the ship was delicious, the best description one could use to describe how these sensations felt to Kruel would be akin to describing the sensation of spice. His entire being was alight as his own power surged feeding off what had happened on the ship. Even a more recent atrocity deeper within had been felt leaving a shadow upon the vessel that would never be washed away. Possibly a lover scorned? A decision that cost one everything, even that which they loved? Or even having to sacrifice what one held dear? Oh the possibilities. Raising a solemn hand Kruel motioned for the two Sith troopers to hold their position at the gangway he did not need an escort, they were just for show.

Head rotating and taking in the passengers that had been rounded up Kruel pointed at a Sith acolyte crooking his finger in summoning. Without question the acolyte jogged to the Darth’s side. “Yes my lord?” The Duros asked his voice solid. The Duros looked to be no older than fifteen yet had volunteered to board the ship. Such ambition, it would serve him well.

“Are these all the passengers?” The Dashade asked. Leaning his large face forward Kruel sniffed the air his face mere centimeters from a twi’lek woman. At her side was a twi’lek male his face going red. Anger poured off the individual like a surging river further feeding Kruel. “Such a wonderful specimen we have found… Perhaps I need another concubine?” With a cruel smile Kruel opened his lamprey mouth displaying the multitude of teeth sharp enough to put a fireaxan shark to shame.

“You Mudcrutch whelp!” The twi’lek male shouted his voice echoing off the walls he decked the Sith Lord in the face with all his strength. As fist collided with face there was a sickening crunch, not from Kruel’s face but the Twi’lek’s fist. For a few moments he stared on in shock at the hand that was now misshapen the digits contorted at odd angles and bone protruding from beneath the skin. Letting out a loud scream he fell to his knees grasping the limb.

“My turn.” Kruel growled. Raising a heavy fist he brought it straight down upon the Twi’leks head. Dashade were capable of destroying boulders in a punch, what happens to a humanoid? A big mess is the answer. Blood, bone and flaps of skin exploded outwards painting the passengers and screams filled the chambers their fear plateauing at the atrocity that happened before them. Kids vomited along with the adults and the female cried for her deceased husband. “Now about the passengers?”

Now three shades paler the Duros nodded his head. “There are still other parts of the passenger cabins that need to be explored my Lord, there is a team taking care of it as we speak. But the people speak of some plague aboard this ship. Are you sure its safe for you to be here?”


Releasing a bellowing laugh Kruel held his belly. “Worry not my child I shall survive whatever plague is aboard this ship. Call back the search team, I will search the passenger section myself. You focus on loading up our prisoners and securing the food stores.” With that said Kruel headed into the passenger cabin where he stepped over the corpse of the husband and with a quick glance he saw the woman with a similar blaster wound. “Humans… Such emotional and fragile beings.” There would be no prayers offered for their deaths, no remorse in Kruel’s tone. Just a statement of how weak humans were. Continuing down the hallway Kruel opened himself to the force becoming a beacon in the force darkness pouring off the Dashade in sickening waves he planned on whipping whoever remained into a frenzy.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

As Kruel descended through the corridor he would have quickly came to realize that the corpses he had encountered were not uniquely unfortunate in meeting their end. Almost every room housed bodies, some recently dead, some from several weeks ago. But each grey carcass had been gently laid to rest with their arms folded over their chests. There was no bruising or signs of struggle or obvious foul play, but a lingering stench of fear and decay still filled the halls. For the 23 passengers registered to this section of the ship it seemed clear that death had come for them all.

Kruel would have soon reached the last five rooms, and as he approached would have sensed a change in the ships emotional spectrum. Inside the first room, a grey skinned woman with short brown hair was laid upon the bed and like many of the other corpses, was prevented from floating away by the gravity stabilizers having survived the initial ion blasts in this far corner of the ship. In the three rooms closest, Kruel would have noticed something previously unfamiliar to this wretched hall. In each room laid a person, in positions not dissimilar to that of the corpses in every other, but with one stark difference.

They were still alive.

If you could call it that, each of the three survivors had sustained catastrophic levels of damage to almost every section of the brain. Leaving them in an almost vegetative state with no ability to feel emotion. Kruel had found the suspicious source of the almost Jedi like calmness and emotional dissonance he had felt on the way inside. The last door remained closed, and the terror Kruel felt within only intensified as he approached it. If he was to enter, he would have seen a human child -no older than five- trying its best to hide under a desk mere feet away from the two corpses who were likely his parents. If he entered, the grey skinned, dead looking woman with the short brown hair would have rose from the bed and locked the durasteel door shut behind him before fleeing down the hallway.

[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

“How peculiar.” Kruel said walking through the corridor and looking into each room. Whistling to bring more attention to himself he gave the bodies fleeting glances. He could feel the essences of them still living but they were nothing but empty husks. Transfixed somewhere between life and death, there was no part of them remaining for Kruel to feed on. Of course, the Sith did not need any more energy from this section that which he had initially absorbed from the occupants of the transport still flowed through his building amplifying his own powers. It was one of the benefits that came with his specialization. Red eyes glowing Kruel pushed open the door leading to the chamber at the end of the room.

At the end of the hall the Dashade came to a durasteel door where from the otherside he felt a large surge of terror from within. It alone sated the Sith Lords ability to consume. None could feel fear or terror like a child. While adults could learn to lessen their emotions, or hide them over time children knew not of the ability. They openly displayed their emotions and they were so powerful. Drinking it in Kruel opened the door looking at the child who cowered away. Examining the boy Kruel offered the child a smile. There was something unique about the child. Kruel could feel it, the child was like himself and would one day display a similar set of abilities if trained correctly. This atrocity that befell him would do nothing but ensure his eventual fall to the darkside. The perfect vessel. “Sleep my child.” Kruel said and with a flick of his finger he released a small burst of compressed air that knocked the childs head up into the table. Not enough to do any true harm but just knock him unconscious. Death was an uncertainty, even for a Sith. But before the boy’s body could be used there would need to be altercations made.

With a loud slam the durasteel door caught the sith’s attention as it was then locked with a sharp click. “How cute.” Lifting his large palm and waving his large hand Kruel released a telekinetic wave that surged outwards from the limb. Upon impact the durasteel door exploded outwards with enough force that it moved with speed rivaling a missile. Hitting the other end of the hall the door embedded itself into the thick walls of the vessel. “Come out, come out wherever you are. I’ve seen your type before, I know that glazed look in the eyes of your victims. The suspension between life and death. The complete lack of emotions. I know what you are and you won’t be able to escape. However if you persist to play these games I will leave the ship and blow it to oblivion.”

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

"I will not die on this ship!" Cried Seria from down the hall as she took cover inside one of the passenger rooms. Her words sounding defiant and angry but already clearly breaking around the edges. She looked down at her stomach and a long piece of jagged metal looked back, already wet with the Anzat's tissue fluid. Kruel would feel her fear in waves, intense and desperate. Like that of a snake cornered by a honey badger with nowhere else to go. And then hear her cry of agony. In a moment, the fear turned to rage as she staggered out from the room and flung the jagged point that had pierced her body back at the ancient being with the force. "And it will not be you that kills me!"

[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

“Come now my child I do not wish to kill you! I wish to heal you! To show you a new light! If you join my cause you will know power like you’ve never felt before! No longer will you have to run and hide. No longer will you have to feel this fear that has chilled you to your very core. You will stand with my people! As one, you will be a part of a legion thousands strong and that will only continue to grow as time goes on. Your name will be written down in the history books as serving the great Lord Ambroscus.” Hands spread out to his side Kruel walked down the halls letting his defenses lower in a sign of good faith. It was best not to push the woman, the terror she felt was enough to match the child Kruel would claim as his vessel. She feared Kruel and the power he wielded.

Suddenly the fear that had been powering the young woman turned to a rage so potent that it was sweeter than the wines of Naboo. “Fear leads to darkness, and my child you are shrouded in darkness.” Kruel felt the force building up and was caught slightly off guard. He had known many of the Anzat had a minor connection to the force but not so much as to be able to use it. So, entranced by what was happening Kruel did nothing as the jagged piece of metal dug its way into his flesh digging deep into it and slicing straight through the solid muscle. It was nothing more than a light sting as the pain was drowned out by the emotions Kruel had fed on earlier along with the Anzat’s own rage.

Bellowing out with laughter Kruel examined the wound a new interest in the Anzat. “It has been eons since one has dared harm me! My dear, I have far bigger plans than killing you, no I will show you a galaxy in which one day you will be able to control not as a servant but as the hand of Lord Ambroscus.” Reaching out with his right arm ignoring the metal still embedded in it Kruel extended his will through the force forming an invisible tendril of energy that would move to entrap the woman. No true force would be put behind it to injure her but enough to show that he was in control of the situation and if he so wished end her life. Taking slow steps forward each word punctuated with an odd break “Now my dear, Tell me… Who are you?”

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

Seria had been moving down the hallway and watched as the ancient Kruel openly laughed at her pathetic attempts to harm him. The shock of his reaction stunned the Anzat briefly enough for her to regain some sense as she watched him speak of with future they could have together with a cocked head and eyes so far expanded at the iris they appeared almost black in the darkness. She listened silently as he spoke. No words but the breathless panting of adrenaline crossing her lips as her body slowly straightened from the predatory posture it had previously taken.

Her hands, which were held in the shape of a claw. With each finger tipped by long nails that had grown into hardened points perfect for the gouging of flesh and skin, pressed into fists as they involuntarily shrank to prevent further injury. Before relaxing once more as her palms laid flat, leaving the nails at a normal length once again as she walked towards him.

After a few steps she felt the presence of his power, at first wrapping around her body. The tendril gentle but firm like a lovers hand resting on the flat of her lower back. A moment later. It was not, and Seria shivered as the grip tightened and forced her to a stop. She did not resist, now clearly outmatched she waited in silence until the being spoke.

“Now my dear, Tell me… Who are you?”

Pride poured off in waves as Seria prepared to speak, almost seeming taller as she her body straightened up and her posture corrected.

"I am..."

Seria fell silent as her words failed her. Out here she was no-one. A respected Anzat House of birth and a statement of lineage meant nothing to those outside it.

"My name is Seria."
[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

With the Anzat trapped in his telekinetic hold Kruel noticed the look of defeat and one relenting to a force greater than themselves. Kruel remembered the days when he had been bullied by the human jedi who called him strange, ugly and all other sorts of names that would often damage the mind of a young child. Cause them to shrink into the shadows and only focus on the negatives of themselves instead of the positives that they could offer. Then she stood tall, she was quite the woman. One second recognizing defeat and the next laying claim to a pride on her own even when faced with a possibly brutal death. The emotions poured off her in waves washing over Kruel sending his skin tingling. If the dashade had hair it would’ve stood on end.

"My name is Seria."

“Seria.” Kruel said rolling the name on his tongue as though tasting an expensive wine. “And my dear what is a little Anzat like you doing so far from home? Are you an assassin perhaps? Or someone who had been plucked up by the jedi as a youth? Your skill to use the force is raw, untrained and quite frankly inefficient when faced with another forceful being but as a start it isn’t terrible.” Releasing the woman from his telekinetic grip Kruel sat her back on her feet as a sign of good faith. He wanted to put the Anzat at ease. With her being a force user herself she would fit perfectly into the ranks of the Sith. With her natural born skills as an Anzat she could very well possess the potential to one day surpass Kruel himself. The Sith did not have an eternity left to live. He had already extended his life far past that of any Dashade and how much longer the behemoth would continue living was impossible to figure.

“This is the only warning you will receive, attack me again and I will ensure nothing remains of you besides a mess that whatever authorities find this vessel will be forced to clean.” Reaching up with his left hand Kruel grabbed the shard of metal and with a quick pull yanked it out. Without even examining the wound or making any motion to heal it Kruel cast the shard to the side his eyes never leaving the woman.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

"Understood. I will give you no further cause to cut me down." Said Seria, her stance relaxing as she held her arm in one hand, and covered her wound with the other. Underneath her pale flesh was knitting itself together from the inside out, forcing the shrapnel that broken off out of her body and into the waiting palm as the injury quickly healed. "I am no child stolen by the Jedi, and I am no assassin. I have left my world for the same reason many of us do. For the pilgrimage -For the Hunt-." A small handful of metal had collected in her palm, and as she turned her hand over and let them tumble towards the ground. She spoke again. "But I have also come to learn. The ancient training masters of Anzat. They are wise. Yes, strong. Yes. But they waste our time and act too slowly. Stretching simple concepts into months and years of lessons. They are more concerned with drinking soup than growing their strength or teaching us to harness our own."

Seria moved her hand away from the wound and bent her fingers up as the metal shards stopped their descent and floated slowly upwards. "But I feel it now. Such power waiting to be unleashed. Its strength coursing through our veins. A river breaking at its banks. You are like an ocean. Free and enlightened. Tantalizing." She paused.

"Teach me, and I shall serve."

[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

Crossing his arms Kruel took in what Seria said paying attention to both her actions and her words. The injury Kruel had caused earlier seemed to not even be inconveniencing the Anzat. The healing factor of some species in the galaxy was astonishing, lacking one himself Kruel was somewhat envious of the Anzat. Despite all the advantages a Dashade had over numerous other species in the galaxy Ambroscus still found himself wishing for more. Craving more abilities, more power. While he could not lay claim to it personally, having an apprentice that could do so would be a great boon. “Aw yes, your people… I have met many Anzat in my time. Yet one constant remains.” Waving his arm back at the rooms with the occupants still stuck in a land between life and death. “It is their addiction to the soup that drives them. They believe it makes them strong but it’s the complete opposite. It makes your people weak. The cravings begin to control their minds. Corrupting them, creating perversions of what they once were. That is why they fear to teach you, because they have all let themselves become weak and cannot risk you surpassing them… I hold no such fears; I encourage such ambition.”

As though just coming into her own and realizing the power that lay at her disposal Seria displayed an aptitude for telekinesis. Perfect, perhaps she’d one day possess a telekinetic ability rivaling if not greater than Kruel’s. “My dear while I may be an ocean, I will train you to become so much greater. You will become a typhoon and one day eclipse my own powers with your own. I have foretold it and it shall be so.”

“Now kneel my child so I can induct you into my order.” Hand lowering to signal for Seria to follow the instructions Kruel clenched the hand into a fist the sharp digits digging into the flesh of his palm. Blood was drawn from it leaking out the corners of his hand.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

Seria fell to one knee as he finished, having taken note of his words. She had seen the weakness that befell the elders, those who had given into the thirst the moment that they felt it for hundreds upon hundreds of years. She knew not how, but she promised she would learn to control her hunger. Even as her new master bled himself like a stuck pig before her.

[member="Kruel Zing"]

 

[Kruel Zing]

“Seria, Anzat from the planet Anzati you will no longer be known by such a title. You will no longer be forced to be fearful of anyone due to your nature. You will no longer give in to the same weaknesses that cripple your elders. From this day, forth you will be reborn as Seria, Hand of Ambroscus.” Placing his palm upon her head Kruel leaned back taking in a deep breath. The raw emotions were still ripe in the ship and through this he channeled the power through himself and into Seria herself. The “Soup” that Anzat consumed could be considered the force by many hence their penchant for snacking on other force users. So, as the energy flowed from Kruel and into Seria she would feel a new surge of strength and power. Kruel was showing her the possibilities of her future and through that also feeding her hunger.

“Do you feel it?! One day this will all be yours! Now rise Seria, you are the Hand of Ambroscus you bow to no one. You will fear no one, you will only serve me and after I have taught you everything I know and more you shall surpass me.” Releasing his grip on Seria’s forehead Kruel took a step back and motioned for her to finally rise. The power he had channeled through her would leave the moment the connection was broken but a tingling electricity remained and upon Seria’s neck would be the crest of signifying her loyalty to Kruel. It would only be visible to those of the dark and through that would show she served another.

“Come my dear, I want to hear about your past. Who are your parents and who taught you to use the force if no one else? I did not know the Anzat where in the habit of teaching force abilities now. Last I saw it was mainly them teaching stealth and assassination techniques. I do hope they’ve changed somewhat over the millennia?”

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

Seria rose as he finished speaking, touching the place on her neck where the man had marked her. She wondered how deep it went, whether if she took a knife to the flesh and cut it out; would the mark remain? Growing back with her flesh as if it had never left. A moment later she had cast the thoughts from her mind. It was far too soon to consider that future.

"I am the third daughter of House Ventreme. My mothers blood, she -her family- is gifted with what you call the force. To us your 'force' is nameless, a simple statement of being and a degree to measure how appetizing our prey is. But many still use it."

 

[Kruel Zing]

The motion of Seria touching the mark was not lost on Kruel, it may have been centuries since he had last marked an individual but the reaction was always the same. The Mark would not only signify her being one of his hands but also allow Kruel to keep track of her even across the wide expanse of the galaxy. Many masters and apprentices naturally attained this bond over their time of training, but Kruel did not have the time to forever be looking over all his apprentices’ shoulders. He was not a jedi and would not hold their hands guiding them so some light. Kruel would leave them in the dark and have them search for their own way out. That was the way of the Sith, to sustain oneself and look inwards for power, not outwards. Quite ironic when Kruel’s own abilities allowed him to draw power from others emotions.

“Third daughter you say? Your house seems quite… Noble, why ever would you be out here searching the galaxy alone with such a lush life waiting for you among your own? Or am I wrong? Do not be scared to correct me child, only fools get upset when told they’re mistaken. Shame there are so many who do it in this day in age. Just savages, don’t you agree?” With a crook of his finger Kruel signaled for Seria to follow. If she was to be a fitting hand he needed her to always be willing to listen. While his training would be, cruel and seem downright sadistic it was all in the name of crafting a stronger Sith.


Walking through the doorway leading from the passenger’s cabins Kruel was welcomed by his troops. Their weapons raising upon seeing the Anzat at his back. “Lower your weapons children. This is my hand, show her the proper respect of one who holds the title.” Upon hearing of Seria being the new hand all the troops in the cabin bowed low their hand placed above their hearts. “This is the control you will one day be able to truly claim as your own Seria. Look at it, bask in it. How does it make you feel?” Kruel asked whispering into her ear quite loving the game of temptation he was playing.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

"Just savages, don’t you agree?”

"Of course. The ignorant prefer to stay so. The expansion of the mind is painful for those with such thick skulls." Said Seria as she walked with her new Master. His willingness to hear her opinion,, -even if she was to disagree- having placed her at ease as her newfound respect for him grew. "But to your question, you have read me well. Though the Ventreme are not royalty, in the right circles our name is respected, and our fortunes remain most palpable. As to why I left, you must understand. The Anzati do not give our children names. My youngest brother for instance, still bares none." Seria paused before going on, not sure how to explain an ancient tradition she had accepted as a natural part of growing up.

"When we are of age, those capable and willing head off world and choose our own identity. I am not so weak as to need cushions and slaves and have my meals brought in with ribbons around their necks until I am married off to a firstborn to hide the shame of cowardice. We are hunters. We need a hunting ground, and we all dreamed of the stars." She continued in silence until [member="Kruel Zing"] 's men offered their salute. "How does it make you feel?"

"Respected."

 

[Kruel Zing]

“Yes Seria, that respect is the respect you will receive from many once your training is complete. The entire galaxy will be your hunting ground. Individuals will fall at your feet more than willing to allow you to feed. You shall never know hunger nor fear again. There is a beast inside you and it is time you freed it. You must accept your position in the darkness.” Waving his hand Kruel summoned one of the troopers who obediently came to stand before Seria. There was no fear in the man’s eyes only a devotion to his Lord. “Now feed.” Kruel whispered. “Watch as the life drains from his eyes and take pleasure in it.”

Turning away Kruel summoned a second trooper. “There is a child in the passenger cabins, furthest room back. I knocked him unconscious but collect the child as I have a use for him.” Not waiting to watch Seria feed on her fresh meal Kruel began to walk away, not out of disgust or being squeamish but due to his own feeding habits. It could possibly incite his own hunger and he’d rather not eat more forces than necessary when there was such a fresh supply of Arkanians he could feed on once they returned home. “Finish securing the supplies and prepare for launch, we’re heading home. I have an apprentice to train. It will be good to be away from this vessel.”

Looking back at Seria, smiled. “Enjoy your meal my dear as when we return to Arkania the true training will begin!” It was true and Kruel couldn’t wait to see the interactions between his upper echelon of apprentices. Would they quarrel with each other or would they go on to become a team that would go on to conquer the galaxy together? Either way they would be expected to continue on and not kill each other, above their petty rivalries it would be their allegiance with Kruel that held them together. Them his children, and he the patriarch at the dinner table.

[member="Seria Ventreme"]

 

[Seria Ventreme]

"With all due respect my Lord. I quickly ate my fill once I knew this vessel was being bordered, and this willingness..." Seria paused, every victim she had devoured since she left the homeworld had resisted if they were able. "It Is repulsive. If I am to control my hunger, I should start now. I must humbly reject your gracious offer, and spare this troopers life." With Kruel finished with her, Seria would have boarded his ship. Wanting to find herself a bed and a shower as she prepared for the journey to her new home.