Private Wither

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
People of Interest: Lief Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

While the Laughing Vagrant sped through Hyperspace, its pilot, Nyla Ven, crouched, knees hugged to her chest, idly rocking on the balls of her feet, in front of the ship's terrarium. It certainly wasn't a small thing; this slice of nature took up an entire wall of Nyla's quarters. The literal and figurative centerpiece of the project was a humble, brambled bush, dotted with just-budding blue flowers. The Jutrand Blue Dahlia was a beautiful but notoriously difficult flower to cultivate, requiring intensive monitoring and care, ideal soil conditions, the right neighboring plants, and, in all honesty, a healthy dose of luck - occasionally, the damnable things seemed to die at random. These qualities made its cultivation a traditional project among young Jedi native to the planet; in caring for such a feeble plant, one learned benevolence. In growing around it an ecosystem that could sustain it, one learned wisdom. In the inevitable and repeated failures one learned patience and humility. And then, after months - if not years for a particularly unlucky horticulturist - of effort, of love and care poured into the growth of this plant, the flowers bloomed.

And within hours of blooming, without exception, these flowers would wilt, and they would die. This, too, was part of the lesson. To be a Jedi is to know that all things are transient, that all things die and fade. To be a Jedi is to know this, and to look upon the whole of the Galaxy, and to love it with the fullness of your heart.

Nyla had learned this lesson in her youth - but on occasion, after the escape, she had found it useful to remind herself of it. And besides, the practice reminded her of home.

The young Padawan rose from her meditative crouch, stretched, rocked and turned on her heels towards the door from her quarters and into the rest of the ship. Things had been...rough, since Dorin. Things hadn't been particularly great beforehand, in all honesty, but. Well, some things were more distressing than simple personal peril.

The girl yawned slightly as she stepped into the hallways of the Vagrant - and then, seemingly unprovoked to any hypothetical but definitely non-existent observers, snatched the simple silver lightsaber hanging at her waist to her hand with telekinetic grace...before she put the weapon away again, just as unprovoked.

Company. One person. In the...mess hall? No. Cargo Bay.

The feeling was unmistakable; a presence in the Force was, barring unrepentant Darkness, a warm and inviting thing to Nyla's senses. Like a memory of sunrays on the beach.

A quiet exhale from the girl, and then another heel-shift as the sentinel-in-potentia trudged off to meet her hidden stowaway. The uninvited guest must've slipped aboard at the last Alliance checkpoint. She would be the first to admit she hadn't been a paragon of awareness at the time, and since then, she'd been perhaps too-preoccupied with meditating on the transient nature of shrubbery. If Nyla Ven hadn't just risen from meditation, she would've already been on the verge of a self-loathing spiral; this was the second time in recent memory that she'd allowed a stowaway to slip past her detection while she was heading towards danger.

Ah, well. At least it was only the one. Right?

 

[Lief]

It wasn't that he'd intended to be carted off into the middle of nowhere, no all that Eliphas had been hoping for was a quick journey to a random world, where he could stretch his legs-- or, well, expand his mind-- and feel less than cooped up. Hiding in a cargo bay for a long time hadn't been part of that plan. It was cold and dark, and the snacks he'd brought along for the journey were already done away with. Only the stack of empty pudding cups set atop one of the crates remained as evidence.​

​

He'd thought a daring adventure would do him some good, but so far it had been decidedly boring. Even more so than sitting in his room on his Master's ship. At least there he had something to hold his attention. The holocron, perhaps, or heck Starlin Rand himself if he wasn't too busy. But nope, instead he'd found himself on the one ship looking to long haul it.​

​

Reaching out a hand he drew the hoard of flimsiplast cups into the air, and watched as they unstacked themselves and formed a circle. Day by day his connection to the Force was strengthening, it was a much faster recovery than his physical state. A couple of steps, that's all he'd managed when he'd last hoisted himself from the chair. Just a few measly feet. Bleh.​

​

The sound of approaching footsteps startled him into dropping the cups, which plopped down to the ground in a heap. It wasn't noisy per se, they were lightweight vessels for chocolatey goodness not rocks, but they were much more easy to spot in their scattered form than they would have been nestled among the crates.​

​

"Empress" he breathed, tensing in anticipation of the cargo bay door opening. Do something... Do some-- Aha!​

​

"So that this problem I might rectify" he muttered under his breath, quiet yet filled with the necessary conviction, "Ashla, hide me from the Outer Eye..." It took a moment before his body shimmered from view, and as always he held his breath for fear of breaking the spell. Not that it would have, of course. Big wild movements would, but he wasn't doing any of those as of late was he?​

​

There was one thing his plan had failed to account for... The hoverchair.​

​

Nyla Ven Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He had really hit a new low that he was here, hidden on a ship, preparing to kidnap a cripple, did it make it any better that he was also here to kidnap a Jedi? A Jedi that by her looks was from Jutrand... which likely meant she was a survivor of the massacre of the Jedi exclave there. So a cripple and a survivor were his targets. Was this a new low?

Did it make it any better that he was not here to kill them?

Only here to kidnap them and deliver them to Adeline, who was very upfront about her desires for them... to eat their souls.

Was this really a new low?

Maybe, probably, yes...

Still, they were at the end of the day, Jedi, and if not that, lightsiders. They were his enemy, no matter their... piteous states, they would offer him no mercy, so he could not offer them any. Indeed, such thoughts were weakness, and he could not allow weakness to rule his actions. Moreover, it was not like he had planned this course of action, he had been at some port when he had sensed the presence of the lightsider, quickly having activated Force stealth, he had become a stowaway, only to watch with some shock, as yet another lightsider came on the ship, stowaway as well. Two lightsiders just seemed to fall upon his lap, could he really be blamed for taking this course of action? Indeed he would have before been concerned at the prospect of fighting two Jedi, and of course, he still was, but strangely enough in another set of luck, both seemed to be of his age, if younger, and the male specifically was seemingly unable to walk. Whatever his vague... feelings for the Sangnir, this was not a mission undergone to win any favour from her...

...Alright, that was a slight factor, but it was far more than that. The reward was intriguing enough, even if he himself did not find himself too enticed by the proposition. To be turned into a Sangnir? From his limited research into the species, their regenerative and nigh immortal properties would easily make him far more powerful, a slight negative disposition towards fire did not make it any less valuable. Still, he knew if he would turn in this bounty that he would reject the reward, well perhaps not fully reject it, but would ask for it to be administrated at a later unknown date, or otherwise allow him to have the blood for his own usage, though he was certain she would reject that request.

Really, he was doing this above all else, for knowledge. He knew of three Sangnir now, Alina, Alisteri, and Adeline, ignoring the alliteration, they were all powerful figures, if not in their own right, if in their warforms. Yet, what was known of their species was very limited, or at the very least, he had trouble finding much. But if he should return successfully with this bounty, it would give him the opportunity to learn firsthand all that there was to be known about Sangnirs.

Maybe indeed, even give him all he needed to convince him to take the plunge, and accept the offer to be turned into a high-blooded Sangnir. Still, from what little he did know about the process, the drinking of blood, the control that the high-blooded Sangnir had over the recipient... it was... rather intimate, there would truly need to be great trust between the two for such a process to be safely taken on... intimate trust. His cheeks flushed at that, as he dispelled the thoughts of being... intimate with the platinum-haired beauty.

It was movement that finally broke his idle daydreaming. Two sets of eyes watched the two Jedi, and both were now moving, which was worrisome. His shadowed eyes had been watching the short-haired female Jedi, who had been curled up by the Ship's terrarium, a beautiful thing, truly, and one which one would have normally seen on a planet, not a ship, he supposed that was the appeal after all. It was rather surprising to see her move, and even more surprising to see her begin moving to the cargo hold. Had he been detected? No, she was moving far too calmly for that.

It was his real eyes that had confirmed why she was moving. The cripple had made his move... and made it accidentally by the looks. He was a good enough travel companion, Malum supposed, high praise indeed, Malum was not a fan of travel companions... even more, odd as he was actively traveling with five of them, for indeed this was yet another distraction to the Holocron quest. Quiet, and did not know of Malum's presence, all that Malum could have asked for, really. But seemed his jig was up, as he spread his empty chocolate cups about.

Malum had to resist the snort, as he turned invisible, with his seat very much still invisible. Who knew that stowaways received such great inboard entertainment? Still, it seemed that the man that the Jedi had detected had not been him, most good, and with the doors opening to reveal the Jedi, Malum dispelled the invisible shadow and prepared himself. Stealthed still in the corner of the cargo bay, his right hand moved to grasp his lightsaber. His attack would come soon, and it would come swiftly, that was the nature of things.

He breathed in softly, and the pity and sympathy went away too. Hardened red eyes looked on, this might be their last conversation. Did he allow the courtesy to allow it to begin? Perhaps if they entertained him enough.

Nyla Ven Lief Adeline Noctua

 

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
People of Interest: Lief Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

The Vagrant's doors opened to the cargo bay, and Nyla took one step into the spacious hold before her gaze settled on the most obviously out of place structure in the room.

She blinked, slowly. Once, then twice. A hoverchair. Alright.

Empty pudding cups. Bizarre, but, again, alright.

The Padawan inhaled, a deep, calming breath. Count to four. Exhale. Thinking logically, the fact that her stowaway wasn't visibly present despite their presence being palpable to her senses was, actually, a good thing. It meant they were capable, at least to a degree, and that meant they were in less danger when danger inevitably reared its ugly head on this trip.

The girl took a few steps further into the cargo bay before speaking. Her eyes drifted closed while she walked, as well; it had always taken her a few moments to reacclimate herself after meditation, to once more turn her higher senses from focus on the All and towards the Now. Her nerves certainly weren't helping, either. "Master Illani always told me that cloaking was a rare talent; were you self taught?" She spoke gently, jovially, and, astoundingly, with only the slightest edge of anxiety creeping into her voice. As the Padawan's mind grew clearer, she began to pick up emotional impressions; her stowaway was nervous. Her mind had touched the furthest borders of this person's soul, and the first thing she'd felt was anxiety? The young woman laughed, seemingly unbidden to everyone else in the room. As if she hadn't had enough of that for herself.

Nyla stood by the seemingly abandoned hoverchair now, trailing a fingertip over its metallic surface and treating herself to an - although she would never admit it, for politeness' sake - amusing vignette of a young man telekinetically fumbling a stack of pudding cups. Eliphas. This second-long diversion seemed to be what it took for the young Jedi to finally calm her own nerves. With that calm, came clarity, and with clarity, came -

Oh.

Oh.

The Jedi tensed, and her expression, previously welcoming if slightly distraught, went blank and cold as a sheet of durasteel. Her own petty fears had hidden something much more malicious from her perceptions.

There was something dark on her ship. Clever enough to hide itself, as well - even if she'd been at peak performance, she doubted she would've noticed it much sooner than she had. She couldn't even get a read on what it was - Sith or Sithspawn or Mawite Marauder, all she could tell was that it wanted to hurt her and it was behind her.

In a blur of movement, Nyla had twirled around - positioning herself, on instinct, in front of the hoverchair - as a jet of brilliant cyan unfurled from the Jedi's hand.

"Eliphas. Can you fight?"

 

[Lief]

Even as his chest began to burn, Eliphas dared not breathe. She was soon coming into view, young like he was. Most definitely a fellow Padawan. The words she uttered into the space he invisibly occupied left the lad frowning some, and as she came to a halt just ahead of his chair he felt his heart begin to race. The jig was up... But she didn't seem too angered by his presence.​

​

"No..." Damnit, he'd just given his position away hadn't he? Way to go, Eliphas. So much for subterfuge. When she touched his chair he felt the light musings of the Force, but before he could say anything more or reveal himself she seemed to pick up on something he hadn't. A presence in the hold. Slowly but surely he reached toward his saber, only his fingers ultimately brushed over it in favour of the blaster holstered upon his belt.​

​

What use was a lightsaber for him at the moment? He'd likely only hurt himself.​

​

He dropped the spell as she ignited her cyan blade. "I can certainly try" he stated, as he raised the blaster and primed it toward the direction she was facing. Eliphas still hadn't picked up on the presence, but then his connection to the Force remained a little... frayed. "Wait, how'd you know my name..?"​

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Nyla Ven Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

If this was not reality, the Jedi's exclamation would have certainly had Malum's eyes boggle out of their sockets. He had been detected? How?! Certainly months ago, when he had first learned the ability from his Mistress, Force Stealth had been new to him, the presence of a field around himself more feeling like an uncomfortable scruffy suit, rather than the second skin it was meant to be. During such times there had been holes in his concealment, a ripple across the terrain that was unnatural, that the well-trained eye could pick out. He did not delude himself into thinking that it was perfect, he was sure of the possibility that those above him, knights and masters would have the skills needed, but she was a padawan, it was meant to have been far above her.

There was no point considering this over and over, every second his advantage from surprise would wear thin. Indeed, though he had been detected, she still could not see him, not with her real eyes, at any rate. Thus, his first attack would be a surprise no matter what he did. Well, it did matter, if he just threw off the second skin in favour of a dramatic entrance then certainly it would be a mistake. No Sith would ever do something so tactically deluded, right?

His thoughts stilled for a moment, before a frown came upon his face, considering the few he knew within the Order, that was a depressing thought.

Alright then, he was not so tactically deluded.

"You wear a cape." His mind decided to tack on, but Malum ignored that thought entirely.

The female padawan seemed to generally know where he was, but the male did not, good.

Malum pressed forth, his legs were finally happy to be moving after hours of stillness. With his stealth still deployed but knowing any benefit would soon break with such sudden movements, moving to the flank of the padawan, he finally allowed the stealth to break, as a dark-figured man with red eyes seemed to emerge out of nothing, his lightsaber igniting with a hiss as it moved to strike and immediately disarm the padawan's cyan blade. As he did this, his free hand flowing with the Force held out in front of the chairbound padawan, concentrating he forced the Force to push him toward the back of the vessel, hopefully disorientating and ricochetting him around enough to keep him out of the fight as he removed the female padawan from contention.

"In accordance with the code of conduct of the Sith Empire, if you surrender now you will be treated as honourable prisoners of war, otherwise, I am authorised to you use full force to bring you to heel," Malum announced to both of them, his red eyes glowing, as the red and cyan lightsabers held, battling for supremacy. Let them surrender, and allow this to end peacefully.

He had a feeling that was a fool's hope.

His fingers tingled with the essence of the dark side.

Maybe... maybe he did not want this to end peacefully.

Nyla Ven Lief Adeline Noctua

 

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
People of Interest: Adeline Noctua Darth Malum of House Marr Lief
​

If nothing else, Nyla had to appreciate that this man made his intentions clear.

The Sith's blade - red as a rancor's eye - came arcing towards the Padawan's saber. A strange move, at least according to most schools of thought. Unless he had been attempting to -

Ah. He wanted them alive. That was troubling.

Nyla was a duelist, however, and although she might not have been a master of the craft, she was no slouch.

Crimson crashed with cyan, two jets of deadly plasma locked with one another, and for a moment, Nyla played that game, pushing fruitlessly in a match of strength against someone larger and bulkier than she. It was a game she was bound to lose, and by the sounds of it, the Sith agreed -

"In accordance with the code of conduct of the Sith Empire, if you surrender now you will be treated as honourable prisoners of war,"

Nyla laughed. It was a joyless, harsh sound, and it shattered the stony mask she had donned for herself. She was incredulous. Did he - had he actually expected that to work? Had, in the five-thousand-and-eight-hundred-odd-year span since the First Great Hyperspace War, that ploy ever worked for a Sith? She was, perhaps, fortunate that she was not paying particular attention to her foe's emotional state when he spoke those words - the fact that he'd earnestly believed it might have sent her into shock, or at least into a state of confused pity.

After allowing herself a second for the laughter to settle, Nyla's expression returned to "normal." It was time to stop playing the game how her enemy expected.

The Padawan inhaled, and she focused.

She felt the Force - flowing around her, and whirling like a storm around her foe. She felt their blades, the give and take, the push and pull. She felt the Sith pouring his weight into overpowering her, and she felt herself ceding ground, ever so slightly.

The wonderful thing about lightsabers was that you could just turn them off.

And so, simultaneous with a small smile, a Speed enhanced sidestep, and a sharp, low kick aimed at the Sith's kneecap, that's exactly what the young Jedi did.

 

[Lief]

Well, she certainly did a good job of making Eliphas appear utterly useless. While the Jedi girl fought back, staving off the Sith's advances, he found himself shot backwards with the push of the Force exerted on his hoverchair. Eliphas grunted in frustration as it struck the hull of the cargo bay and jolted him. Away from the fight, he was forced to think fast in order to be of any use. ​

​

"She walks in shadow and darkness" he began, voice a little louder as he directed the power of the spell unto another not himself, "Ashla, protect her from wickedness!" Eliphas' focus deepened, eyes fixed on the back of the Jedi as she parried the crimson blade. Her skin would begin to glow, and though it wouldn't keep his hits from landing against her flesh it would certainly provide a little extra protection when the time came. As though she was wearing a layer of armour that needed permeating first.​

​

Then he slumped back in his chair, and huffed. All of this excitement was causing his heart to race much faster than it'd had cause to for so very long now, and it was leaving him breathless. ​

​

"But... We're not... In Sith space" he stated when the Sith made his announcement. What jurisdiction did he believe he had over them?​

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Nyla Ven Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"Trakata" Malum thought as his eyes widened slightly, her lightsaber cerulean hue disappearing back forth to her hilt, as his reddened blade pressed forward further than he had expected their encounter to allow. He had not thought a Jedi was capable of such dishonourable conduct, even his fellow Sith who did not share his rather... peculiar... beliefs were rather quick to avoid using the technique, if only out of a belief of it showing weakness. To think a Jedi, padawan or not originated from an order who claimed themselves paragons of virtue and honour would sink so low, brought to Malum only confirmation of what he had always been taught, what he had always known, the hypocrisy of the Light, they who ensnared themselves out from emotion, out from humanity, to preach peace and law, to only be hypocrites who would bring all those to their depths, if only out of envy.

It had only been furthered by her prior actions, his respectful call for her to surrender being met with a harsh laugh, he had expected it to be refused, perhaps even secretly hoped that it would be, but he had expected that to be said, hell, expected to receive nothing but silence. For indeed, why would a Jedi ever surrender to a Sith? Would he ever surrender to a Jedi? But to hear a hard cruel laugh instead, one which continued to ring in his head? It brought back to the childhood tales he had been told, many of which had been nothing but tales to spook him, but many of which he knew fundamentally to be true. There used to be an old Jedi exclave on Jutrand, one which had stood in his youth, there was more than pride that his family had spent such lengths of time at Bastion and Dromund Kaas, for Jutrand was unsafe... with Jedi on the prowl. They had only been safe when that exclave had been exterminated.

They would only be safe when the Jedi had been exterminated.

He had remembered his histories, of the great genocides on Korriban, there was a reason that pureblood Sith was very uncommon across the galaxy these days, there was a reason that Korriban and Dromund Kaas were ruled by the fools of the Light and not its rightful masters.

As he fell forward, following his lightsaber, the momentum too strong for him to change course, he made out of the corner of his eye, as if they were in slow motion, her legs move faster than he would have thought capable, aimed towards his kneecap, destined to cause great pain, and perhaps throw him onto the ground.

The Dirt.

He could not face the dirt again, he was the apprentice to Darth Ophidia, the scion of Darth Marr, he would not fall to simple parlour tricks, the breaking of honour. He grit his teeth, preparing for the momentary pain that would strike his kneecap, as he brought the forth to the forefront of both arms, he grit further as he heard the Padawan behind him say some chant. Seemed he had underestimated both of them then, but honestly, had he truly expected a Jedi even if crippled to be thrown out of the fight by simply a push?

The shimmer that now appeared across the woman was something to look into, but he doubted some protection called by Ashla would withstand the power of Bogan.

He had learned much from the last time he had become one with the dirt, key had been learning this.

The Force flowed from his fingers, and as the lightsaber stilled, the pain from her foot striking his kneecap elicting a groan. In a great flash, it seemed the red lightsaber was ignited with lightning as it rushed towards the woman, while with his free hand, a great flowing web of lightning moved to strike the cripple.

"THE ENTIRE GALAXY BELONGS TO THE EMPIRE!" Malum shouted looking back towards the cripple, as he stood almost crouched, as lightning sprang forth from both his hand and lightsaber, in an attempt to bring both padawans to heel.

Nyla Ven Lief Adeline Noctua

 

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
Persons of Interest: Darth Malum of House Marr Lief Adeline Noctua ​

Master Illani had always been skeptical of so-called Sorcerous applications of the Force, but as her flesh began to glow with gentle Light, Nyla was nothing but grateful towards the more esoteric Force traditions scattered across the Galaxy.

Nyla could not be said to have great admiration for anything the Sith did, but - she would later admit to herself - the way this intruder caught his balance after a strike to the kneecap was a display of respectable physical acumen. In the present, though, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

Reflexively, the Padawan stepped back as the blade of fulgurous crimson arced towards her head, and raised crossed arms to protect herself. Time seemed to slow for a split second before the lightsaber impacted. She inhaled. She focused, screwing her eyes shut. She could take this.

Oh, Feth, it hurt.

Even with the protection of Ashla's Light softening the blow, even with her gift for Tutaminis sending a fraction of blade-and-lightning's energy scattered harmlessly across her skin - Feth, it hurt. So much pain in such a small fraction of a second. The smell of burning flesh filled the cargo bay. The lightning that couldn't be abosrbed set the muscles in Nyla's arms a-twitch - the ones that weren't too charred to move. Nerves burned out in the padawan's right hand, and with a clatter, her lightsaber fell to the ground. The girl let out a whimper of pain, scampered back a step or two further.

Nyla opened her eyes, and -

"THE ENTIRE GALAXY BELONGS TO THE EMPIRE!"

- And she was no longer on The Laughing Vagrant, no longer barreling through hyperspace.

She was home again. The cold, familiar tiles beneath her feet. The warm, comforting architecture of the Enclave's main hall. The stench of burning flesh in the air. The blood slick beneath her feet.

She was home again. Watching her friends get slaughtered.

Arcs of lightning jumped from the masked butcher's fingertips, sailing through the air.

"No."

Great bolts of lightning sailed from Malum's fingertips, arcing through the air, hate made manifest.

And then the bolts forked, and one half of that split bent upon itself in space, heading now towards Nyla, with blackened, mangled arm outstretched.

The Padawan hissed in pain. Her knees buckled, and she fell. Lightning arced down one arm, across the chest, and out the other, flying from her fingertips as it jumped into a light fixture that blinked, then shattered, from the stress.

"Leave him be. Please."

 

[Lief]

The Sith did not much like his statement. His barked words echoed through the hold, setting the tiny hairs which lined Eliphas' body on end as goosebumps traveled throughout him; at least, if nothing else, the girl had benefited some from what little he was able to do to help.​

​

It wasn't enough though, was it? Even with the two of them, it wasn't enough. Soon it wasn't just sabers which were clashing but the static crack he associated with his training on Kashyyyk, with the Weather Machine. He'd called down lightning from the heavens that day in perhaps the most effortless use of the Force he'd ever managed. A real gift, that's what he'd had. Atmokinesis had come most naturally to him.​

​

Not that it could do much to help him now. He watched as it sparked from the Sith's fingertips and danced across their blades, and he knew better than to think he was safe for not being directly involved in the fight. Closing his eyes, he raised his hands and focused on the build up of static jolting through the air, seeking to redirect it to be grounded elsewhere. Somewhere not their bodies.​

​

Effortless though it might have been in comparison to other Force powers he'd learned, it still took time. He could not stave it from the girl, whose lightsaber hilt clattered to the ground soon after, and though he managed to send the first sparks aimed his way toward one of the crates the durasteel material forming it, and the hull, and his hoverchair, only brought it bouncing back toward him. Charged...​

​

He stiffened in his seat, feeling and smelling the singing of flesh as it sought to ground itself through him.​

​

"Ashla..." he grunted, jaw clenching firm, "Protect..." It was no use. He couldn't get the words to form. Already in a fragile state to begin with, it didn't take long for him to drift into a rigid state of unconsciousness.​

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Nyla Ven Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Absolute fools.

Why had not they just surrendered when he had offered it to them?

They could have avoided all of this.

He felt consciousness leave the cripple behind him, as his free hand now faced the female padawan before him. He allowed the lightning to pass, to redirect it was a strong feat, apparently only those particularly skilled, or particularly powerful had the ability to do so, and considering the one before him was simply a padawan, it seemed the latter was more accurate.

He limped towards her, his bad knee trailing behind as his lightsaber was perched near her neck, a non-verbal but very evident threat.

"Surrender... please," Malum quietly said, even begged, though he would never admit it to anyone, least of all himself. His eyes softened as he looked down at the piteous state of the woman before him. Where once before she was an attractive confident figure, now instead she had been laid low, the twinkle in her eyes removed, as it seemed that she was fighting the embrace of unconsciousness. Of course, she was fighting that though, who would want to fall asleep with a Sith above them? His eyes drifted to her mangled blackened arms, looking back now towards the male padawan as well, they both sizzled at the sickly smell of burned flesh. They were both grievously injured, far more than he had initially intended. Had his fear and hatred really come out so far?

The fight was essentially over unless the female Padawan wished to throw some final foolhardy attack.

That meant, he had won.

Why did he feel so hollow at that fact then?

He would have to tend to their wounds, certainly, they must have been in immense pain, and likely would have to aid them to eat as well, they were in no state to do much in their condition. He idly wondered if the ship had any medical supplies, and had enough provisions for all of them. If not, he would need to dock at some station and purchase what they needed before he made his way to...

"Why are you going to do any of this for them? Let them suffer." His mind whispered into his ears.

Malum stilled, his free hand moving to touch the amulet by his chest. It was still warm to the touch, and he felt a moment of clarity come over him.

Why indeed.

They were the enemy, if he was here to kill them none of this would have even been a question, he would have struck both padawans down now where they both lay, clearly they were in no position to resist him.

Instead, they were to be captured, bound and gagged, and then delivered to Yalara, where he they could leave both his consciousness and responsibility. That was why he was here after all... right? All to fulfill Adeline's bounty, win her affec-, gain more knowledge of the Sangnir. Yes, yes, that was indeed why he was here, no other reason. Doubt filled him.

Adeline would care little for the physical state of the padawans, her desires for them were far more spiritual, mystical, and egoist.

In that sense, perhaps it would have been better that they had not initially surrendered, when he delivered them to Adeline's hands, he most certainly would have broken his promise.

Indeed why did he even care about that concept? Lies and manipulation were the simple tools of the Sith, tools which he had always been scarce to use, but ones which he had no concern using, of course, indeed.

Furthermore, it was not as if the Jedi in front of him or the Jedi, in general, were ones for mercy if they had been the ones on the ship ambushing him, and he lost, they would have committed unspeakable deeds upon him, or more likely they would have painfully killed him without any remorse. Was that not what happened to Darth Caedus? Indeed, betrayed and killed by his own Jedi sister! When all he had wished for was to save his own family.

The Jedi were his foes, there was no doubt of that.

Yet looking down upon the woman before him, her lightsaber dropped far away from view, looking to the man behind him, sitting still on his floating seat, they looked far from Jedi... what if it was one of his sisters laying on the floor beneath him, Vita or Trayze sitting crippled behind him.

People, as alive and as conscious as him.

An idea popped into his mind.

He would tend to them to further his own knowledge and experience of the medical field! Indeed it was out of pity as well, and to avoid annoyance, they would only live for a few more days, and it would be rather problematic if they were moaning and groaning for every second of it! And to feed them, it made perfect sense, he would not want them to starve themselves to death by the time they arrived at Yalara, would he? And indeed, if they died somehow died of starvation by then, he would have no clear answer if he could properly practice medicine, and indeed he would be unable to fulfill his bounty.

Convincing himself, the only person who needed convincing, as his internal struggle concluded, he stood still, imposed over the female padawan, awaiting her surrender, and preparing too for another last desperate gambit if she would throw it.

He hoped she would not.

For what reason, he was not quite sure.

Nyla Ven Lief Adeline Noctua

 

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
Persons of Interest: Darth Malum of House Marr Lief Adeline Noctua ​

Was everything supposed to be this blurry? No. Certainly not. Hearts aren't supposed to beat that fast, either. Not in humans, at least. Nyla Ven grit her teeth and looked up at the blurred, fuzzy shape of her opponent. He'd won. She'd failed.

Again. Predictable. Burning flesh, a helpless comrade, a bloodthirsty Sith, and a useless child.

Tears welled in the padawan's eyes, and she drew a shaky, pained breath.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Exhale.

I am more than my failures.

Inhale.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Exhale.

I am a Jedi. Through the Force, all things are possible.

Nyla closed her eyes, blinking tears down her face, and focused. It was okay to be afraid. It was okay to be angry. What mattered was that she didn't let her feelings control her.

The Padawan was silent for a few seconds before she responded to the Sith's oddly...pleading demand for surrender. As she continued her breathing meditations, attempting to separate herself from her pain, she focused her senses outwards and towards her foe.

Rage. Hate. Disgust. She had expected nothing less. But...what was that, just below the surface?

Was that doubt? A crack in the wall of contempt and cruelty the Sith had built up around his heart? And then...compassion, leaking to the surface. Little rays of light striking out from a blackened void.

Nyla opened her eyes again, and smiled, very softly.

"I surrender. You win. Make sure," she whimpered as her concentration faltered for a moment, all the pain rushing back. "Make sure Eliphas is alright."

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum sighed both in relief and doubt as the Jedi Padawan finally fell into unconsciousness, what had he gotten himself into?

He sighed again, as he realised that as he had said himself, he would need to take care of these two lost lambs. Ignoring of course that in this metaphor he was the wolf that had led them astray. He stepped forth, leaning down to look upon the state of the Padawan, blackened and burned flesh, that was the major injury that he could see, though he was sure there was quite a bit wrong with her at current. Standing back up, he looked towards the crippled Padawan, even if he was a master healer, he doubted he could have fixed the legs, though he idly wondered why he would even consider doing that. He was much far less than a novice, and moreover, he did not cause the injury to the legs, it was one thing to tend to the injuries he caused, the ones that may have been life-threatening, but everything else? That was for them to sort out.

Not that they would have any chance to, of course, it was only a few days, perhaps a few weeks until they reached Yalara.

A sobering thought.

He sighed again, as he reached down towards the female Padawan and with his fingers wiped away the tears that had streaked down her face, no doubt it would have been uncomfortable waking up with that on your face, especially since you would be chained up and unable to wash it off.

He would need to check the stores for whatever he could use, this was all technically his now, he supposed, ship included. He'd need someone to pick up the Lochris, at some point then... a mental note entered to do that. He reached down picking up the cyan lightsaber, to think that he could have died from it. He was not entirely sure what he would do with it, alongside the lightsaber that had not been ignited on the male's person, nor the blaster he had found on the floor. Perhaps he would sell them? Yet, that seemed rather... crass.

He might bury them on Jutrand, weapons belonging to warriors. Was that what these Jedi wanted? Probably not, they wanted to leave, most likely. They had fought him to live, they had failed, but they had fought regardless.

Had losing forfeited them from life? It seemed so.

Even if that loss would come a few weeks later.

---

Malum wiped his lips of the ration he had eaten, tasteless, but nutritious. He had hated the stuff when he had first had them, for a noble like him, where gourmet food was not only the norm, but expected, it had not been an easy adjustment. Yet, he had learned to manage... slowly... and like a child, he would admit to himself, and only himself. Yet as it stood, this ship was equipped with enough food for one person, and though it was supplemented with the limited rations he had brought on board, he doubted the empty chocolate cups of the male Padawan were much of an addition. That meant that until he had landed somewhere for more supplies, he would have to be careful of how much they all ate, and if he could be honest, he would be most happy if the best food was saved for last.

He looked onward at the two mentioned Jedi Padawans. They were chained together with Force Cuffs on a pillar in the middle of the cargo bay, the cuffs themselves were linked to him, lest they turn out to be mechanics and could independently remove them. It would be rather problematic if that was the case, even without their weapons, they were still Jedi. He had tended to both of them the best he could, treating any burns and cuts with bacta, and then covering them in gauze. He was slightly alarmed that they had not awakened yet, but checking their breathing, that seemed to be fine. It had been a day or so since the fight. That meant he'd need to change the gauze soon.

He had noticed that they seemed to care about each other quite a bit, rather odd since they seemed to be strangers. Thus Malum hoped that the female would not try to escape with the male in his crippled state. He had moved the hoverchair some distance away for that very reason.

Still, he hoped they would wake soon, something he did not think he would have normally said of Jedi. They had not eaten for a day, and it was slightly awkward to be hearing their rumbles. He would have to feed them himself, of course, he could not allow them to escape their restraints... but feeding them while they were asleep was a very different idea. He could just imagine that they would somehow choke to death, in one of the stupidest deaths he could have imagined.

Perhaps he was overthinking.

But he was not leaving anything to chance.

Nyla Ven Lief Adeline Noctua

 

[Lief]

It was not a slow return to consciousness which awaited the young Tetan, but a veritable slap in the face. His whole body felt as though it were on fire, and his breathing came sharp and ragged. Eliphas knew it to be more than simply the burns he'd sustained at the cruel touch of lightning, it was not an external discomfort but an internal churning that racked his body and his mind.​

​

In fact it was so bad that after taking his first conscious breath he screamed out in pain and began to pant after the fact. "What... Did..." His body twisted this way and that, trying to shed itself of the aggravated skin. "B-Bacta?" He pressed his head back against the metal pillar, a little harsher than perhaps intended, and bit back further cries. "No, no, please, stop it," he whined. His skin crawled, and every breath he took was nigh on impossible leaving his lungs feeling perpetually empty.​

​

"Get it off" he begged, "GET IT OFF!"​

​

He was so lost in the heated pain of it that he didn't even really realize he was bound, nor that he couldn't reach for the Force.​

​

Nyla Ven Darth Malum of House Marr ​

 

[Nyla Ven]

Location: The Laughing Vagrant, Hyperspace
Persons of Interest: Lief Darth Malum of House Marr Adeline Noctua ​

It was nice not to dream. Nyla dreamed often, and what she saw was rarely pleasant.

So even though it wasn't technically sleep, even though she'd been captured by the Sith, even though, feth, it had hurt, the young Padawan found some small measure of comfort in that one simple fact as she slid into unconsciousness.

At least she wouldn't dream.

Screaming.

The Padawan's eyes flew open at the sound, and she allowed herself a single, solitary moment of selfishness, given the circumstance -

All I wanted was to rest. No time for that, though, it seemed.

Nyla bolted up from the semi-upright lump in which she'd been left, and her eyes darted around until they landed on her fellow Jedi. Panic was starting to creep in at the edge of her mind again. Her heart was racing. He needed help. She needed to -

It was at that moment that the realization hit her.

The Force was gone. She'd been cut off. She'd been cut off.

She'd felt it for as long as she could remember. It had been her constant companion. That gentle, ever-present web of life and energy had been, on many a night, the only solace she could muster for herself.

The last coherent thought she would have for at least the next few moments was a memory.

She had, during her studies in the Enclave, learned of a niche little piece of technology. Sometimes a set of shackles, sometimes a collar, the actual form didn't matter; restraining devices meant to suppress a victim's connection to the Force were an established, if uncommon, technology. She remembered feeling thankful for that rarity - even the thought of using such a thing against a Sith had felt deeply unpleasant at the time.

And then, for the first time in a long time, Nyla Ven completely, utterly lost her Force-damned mind.

It started with sobbing - an ugly, pathetic noise that set her chest heaving as she slumped as far down as her restraints would let her, halfway to fetal position.

"Get them off." Clank went the shackles, bashed against the cold metal pillar to which they'd been bound.

"Get them off." Clank.

"getthemoffgetthemoffgetthemoffGETTHEMOFF-" Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. Snap.

And then Nyla started screaming too.

Because the shackles hadn't given way, but a bone definitely just had.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Malum glancing a final gaze towards the two shackled Jedi, looked towards his wrist where his comms were held, "BB-9E start the Lochris and have it come dock at my position," It was finally time to have his two sets of prisoners meet, that was a minor risk, two against one already put him at a disadvantage, three against one would make it even worse, still he would rather have the Lochris and Loreena here rather than away from him and unsupervised. BB-9E gave a series of cute beeps in response, as the comms between them shut.

Well, that was another thing sorted, and indeed seemed to be the last task he needed to complete.

The screams alerted him to the fact that his tasks would never be done.

He rushed over as soon as his ears flickered at the desperate pleas coming from the male padawan's lips. Crouching down towards furrowed eyebrows, what exactly was the matter? Had the burns been worse than he had first thought? He held down his arms, lest he hurt himself in the twisting panic that he was experiencing, "Padawan you need to calm down, you're sa-" Okay well, he wasn't safe, and having a Sith tell him that he was safe was not going to convince him.

"B-Bacta?"

Malum's ears jerked to attention at that little tidbit. His eyes looked down to his side towards the shots he had taken from the male padawan's person, initially, he was curious why the man was carrying around kolto shots but had reasoned that it was because he could not afford bacta... oh... the desire to slam his face against his hands grew strong.

"Get it off... GET IT OFF!"

Malum ended his considerations, as he moved quickly, keeping the padawan's shaking hands in place, as he unwrapped the gauze from his hands and torso. Hissing as he saw what was underneath, the burn wounds were still as they had always been, the bacta having seemingly done nothing to it, which was already strange enough, but what was worse was the redness of the skin in front of him, rashes and blisters covered all of it, running down from his hands all the way to his torso. Malum grit his teeth as the telltale signs of bacta allergy played out in front of him.

He first reached for the water bottle near him, the one which he had thankfully not drunk all of with his rations.

"This is not going to hurt at all," Malum spoke, a white lie, but one which would likely cause him less pain than the actual truth. Reaching down to rip a piece of his shirt, he also placed it in the man's mouth, it would only be a sting, a sharp sting, but better eliminate the chance of him biting his own tongue off accidentally.

Water poured across his body, it would sting like a queen, and leave him quite uncomfortable, but at the very least he was happy to see the bacta be wiped off his skin, and as a side benefit the wounds were all cleaned again. Malum breathed out softly, the worst of the problems having gone passed. He reached down to his side, pulling out a kolto shot, and showing it plainly for it was, to show that it was not aimed at killing him. He reached down to the man's arms and pressed them into his skin. There was a reason that kolto was rarer in the galaxy compared to bacta, it was objectively inferior, but it could do the job, and it could do it well.

The breath left him in relief, that was at least one fire dealt with.

Then the breath returned to him, as he closed his eyes, and a new sound filled his eardrums, this one with a much more female tone, it was sobbing, more than it was screaming, which was arguably better for him.

The issue was, at least with screaming he knew there was something urgent that had gone awry that he had to fix... with crying... how was he meant to tend to a crying woman, that had every reason to cry considering who he was and who she was?

"Get them off."

Malum turned away from the male Jedi and moved towards the female, crouching down at level with her, the answer was going to be a no, but that was evidently not going to calm her down. He attempted to catch her hands, as he racketed them about, but she was already provably faster than him, and desperation was quite the motivator, as her hands dodged his.

"Get them off."

"You surrendered and are my prisoner, I cannot just allow you to use the Force to escape," Malum explained, perhaps a simple explanation with a calming soft voice would wor-.

"getthemoffgetthemoffgetthemoffGETTHEMOFF-"

The snap even made him grunt in unease, as the ringing in his ears began again, alright she was screaming, was that better than crying? He could not quite say.

Finally, he caught her hands and stilled them. The pain perhaps having finally given him a moment.

Feeling up the bone of the arm as much as he could, with screams and crying in the air, with her continuing to struggle, he thought it perhaps was dislocated? No amount of panic could make someone break their own bone, could it? Malum was not quite sure, for indeed, he was not qualified to practice medicine.

"Listen, listen to me Padawan," Oh god, this was meant to be a kidnapping, a bounty hunting mission, and here he was trying to tend to a Jedi's physical and emotional needs, he made another rip from his shirt, and placed into the padawan's mouth, having either of them cut off their tongues would be problematic, "Listen to my voice, everything will be fine, I'll be honest with you, there is going to be a moment of pain, while I put the hand back in place, but after that you will be fine. Just listen to my voice, we can discuss the force cuffs after we all calm down, okay?" He made his voice as soft and genial and calming as he could, hoping she would react to it positively, he could have killed her at any opportunity, and he hoped if realisation struck her that he had not, she would trust him enough to do this.

Something he idly noted was that this reaction to the Force cuffs was beyond what he had seen before, indeed, was it that she was cuffed in general that was the matter, or that they were Force cuffs? He had never reacted like this when cut off from the Force... but to react so viscerally to being cuffed after surrendering... seemed off.

"One, two," Malum said softly, a normal count down to three before he quickly pressed her hand back into the arm socket, "three." He finished, knowing that a very loud scream was just about to blot out his ears, and preparing for that eventuality.

Lief Nyla Ven Adeline Noctua

 

[Lief]

His screams were inevitable, even when a shred of fabric was stuffed into his mouth to keep him from biting down on his tongue. Muffled, sure, but still screams all the same. Water washed over his skin, burns and blisters and rashes all crying out. It wasn't until the kolto was injected that he seemed to settle even a little bit, though he continued to shiver and sob even after the fact.​

​

He couldn't recall the last time he'd been exposed to bacta, but it had been severe enough that he never went anywhere without his shots. Almost as soon as he'd been tended to the girl began to cry and shout, and with the clanking of her binds he realized that he too was chained. That he too could no longer call upon the Force.​

​

Eliphas tugged and twisted and groaned in frustration. Every nerve in his body felt alight, every move hurt, but that didn't stop him from shaking his arms to try and get free too. The sound of something snapping twisted his gut, and he very nearly hurled. The girl was screaming at this point, and whatever their captor was saying to try and calm her down was lost amidst the chaos.​

​

"Let us go" he cried, "Don't hurt her!"​

​

Darth Malum of House Marr Nyla Ven ​