Typhon: 141 ABY
The stones continued to fall. Continued to make their ripples on the surface of the Force. The ripples began to intersect, the points of their intersection spawning their own series of ripples. Some of these disturbances were echoes from future events, so significant that they could be felt in the present. There were also present events whose ripples vanished into the horizon of a distant and uncertain future. The surface of the Force became like a spider's web of cause and effect. The Force was moving, as it had not moved for many ages.
The Red Man had slumbered in his tomb on the world of Typhon for over two millennia, his mind searching through space and time. And now the Force called to him.
A pair of burning red eyes snapped open. Stared into darkness. Into oblivion. As did the entire Sith Order, the Red Man reflected. Their leader, Darth Krayt, had recently met his end, leaving the Sith without leadership. Leaving the Sith in desperation.
Perhaps, in their desperation, they would listen to the Red Man's words. The light side of the Force was not something to be shunned. It could be used alongside the dark, so long as one did not allow the light to blind them. The Red Man doubted Darth Krayt would have accepted such words. He'd surely have labeled me a heretic!
The lid of a metal sarcophagus proceeded to rattle. It soared into the air on a blast of Force energy and, seconds later, clattered onto the stone floor. The Red Man's body, still for so many years, cracked and creaked as he stood up and stepped out from his coffin.
Now fully conscious, the Red Man reached out in the Force. No longer just a passive presence, the dark side of the Force fell upon him. And he nested himself in its suffocating haze. He reached out further, across a vast chasm, to the light side of the Force. For Sith should take hold of all the power offered by the Force.
The Red Man's gaze left his body, to travel across space and time. He saw wars and death.
Dathomir
Xelina Djo was a blur as she ran through the forest, pursued by seven women who had once been her sisters. The far too perceptive Xintara had sensed her using the dark side of the Force. Xelina had tried to explain that the dark side could be used for good, and that it was foolish not to make full use of the gifts offered by the Force. But the overly rigid-minded Xintara would have none of it. Xelina had felt the she-rancor summon their six sisters, and knew that she had been betrayed. She knew she could not best Xintara in combat, at least not in the setting of the village. And even if she could, there was no way she'd be able to take down her other sisters. And so Xelina had fled into the forest, where she could take advantage of...
The base of Xelina's brain stem began to tingle. She rolled to the ground, allowing a spinning, green bladed lightsaber to pass just millimeters over head. Xelina returned to her feet to find a disturbingly calm Xintara racing toward her, and recalling the lightsaber to her hand.
Xelina's own lightsaber was suddenly in her hand, its white blade snap-hissing to life, just in time to block a vicious blow. The blows continued to rain down as Xintara sought to back Xelina into a fatal bottleneck. Though she could not sense her sisters, since they were concealing themselves in the Force, Xelina knew they would be there. Waiting to murder one of their own.
Xelina fought to hold her ground, and let a sense of stubborn determination bleed into the Force. But it was all for show, to disguise her true intent. A fist-sized stone, made smooth by years in a shallow riverbed, lifted into the air behind Xintara. And then it sailed forward, slamming into the back of Xintara's neck with a sickening crack. Her dead body thumped to the ground.
Xelina wanted to cry over her sister's corpse. Though Xintara had tried to murder her, Xelina still loved her. And though slaying her sister had been purely an act of self defense, she still hated herself for it. But there was no time to mourn. Xelina could feel the rage of her former sisters as a corporeal thing. A beast that would compel them to tear her apart.
Xelina fed more dark emotions than she had the time to count into the Force, and its dark side fed its raw power into her. She ran deeper into the forest. She could feel the others gaining on her, surrounding her, in an ever tightening, suffocating net. From which Xelina knew she would never escape. The others began to appear out of the lush green foliage, lightsabers humming hatefully. She looked at her own weapon's blade. If she was going to die, then it would be on her terms. Xelina could feel the heat of her lightsaber's blade as she brought it up to her neck, but she stopped. This couldn't be how it would all end.
And then there was a scream as a red shaft of energy seemed to grow out of one of the other women's hearts. The crimson needle suddenly vanished, letting another of Xelina's sisters fall to the ground, lifeless. There was a man standing there, his form somehow obscured by the Force. The nearest two sisters turned on him. One of them was thrown backwards on an arc of indigo fire. The other crumpled to the ground as the peculiar man's lightsaber separated her head from her body.
Using this distraction to her advantage, Xelina charged at the nearest of her four remaining sisters. Their lightsabers buzzed and vomited up sparks as they clashed. Xelina felt a fire building up within her arm, and fed her rage into it. Her hand felt as though it was being burned away as a pink gout of lightning exploded forth. It slammed into her sister's chest and lifted the woman into the air. She fell to the ground, impaling her upper back on a rather sharp looking rock.
Xelina turned to find another of her sisters running away from the battle, the massacre. Xelina reached out her hand, Force-grabbing her fleeing sister by the neck, and dragging the tiny young woman over to her. Xelina felt sick; it was her baby sister, Xentira. Her adorable little face was stricken with horror. Out of all her sisters, Xelina had loved her the most.
"Please, don't do this," the girl pleaded. "They made me do it."
"The Void they did!" Xelina spat.
"I'm sorry. I-" She never finished that sentence, for Xelina had plunged her lightsaber into her heart.
"I know," Xelina said, her voice fracturing. "I'm sorry, too." She bent down and kissed her baby sister's forehead. She stood up and turned toward the peculiar man who had saved her life. The Force flowed around and through him. Both the dark and the light. She had never felt something so... beautiful. The man's skin was red, and there were flaps of skin hanging from his chin like a beard of flesh. He stood over the corpse of the woman he'd thrown with his Force lightning, and behind him lay the body of another.
Xelina found that she was crying. All her sisters were dead.
The Red Man stood silently as the red haired girl walked toward him. Tears flowed from her copper eyes. Though he had stopped feeling much of anything centuries ago, he'd have found it odd had she not been distraught. She looked around briefly, noting that the last of her sisters had been slain. She looked back at the Red Man, and he could feel how helpless and lost she felt. "You did what was necessary to survive," he told her. "There is no shame in that." he placed a firm, yet gentle hand on her shoulder. Showing just enough compassion for someone whose heart had just been broken seven times over, but not enough that she'd think it was acceptable to be weak.
The girl glanced back at her little sister's body. "She was running away," she said, barely able to get the words past the lump in her throat. "She didn't want to kill..."
"Someday she may have sought vengeance for the deaths of her sisters."
"I guess." The girl glanced around at the rest of her sisters, and then back at the Red Man. The poor thing was terrified. "If I stay here, the rest of my village will hunt me down. They'll kill me."
"You don't need to stay here," the Red Man told her. "Come with me. Be my apprentice, and I will give you a purpose." The girl seemed to be mulling it over. She looked back at her little sister's dead body, and then back at him. "You may take a couple minutes to say good bye to her."
He watched the girl run over to her sister. She gently scooped up her younger sister and held her tiny body against hers. "I'm so sorry, baby," she practically squeaked. She kissed her sister's forehead again. She carefully laid her sister's tiny body back on the ground, and closed her eyelids. Her legs trembled as she stood up. "I'm ready to leave this Force forsaken place," she said. "So you can take me... Where are we going?"
"To a world called Typhon," the Red Man said.
"I've never heard of Typhon."
"It is a forgotten world, but also a beautiful world." he told her. "What is your name?"
"Xelina Djo."
"You may call me Scourge." He turned and began to walk out of the forest. He could feel Xelina following close behind. Some time later, the two entered a small clearing. Floating in the center was what resembled a giant eye, with what resembled the large, leathery wings of some great, flying mammal. The hull appeared to be made of some sort of red-brown stone.
"It's beautiful," Xelina remarked.
The wonder in the young woman's voice seemed to stir something deep within Scourge's dead soul. "This is a Sith Meditation Sphere. You may call him Ship."
"Hello... Ship," she said a bit awkwardly.
Hello, Xelina.
She could, yet also could not, hear his voice. This Meditation Sphere could speak. A seam appeared in the ship's hull and a ramp, somewhat resembling a great tongue, folded down. The material looked sharp, like volcanic rock. Xelina looked at Scourge's feet; he was wearing boots, but there was nothing on her feet. She walked up to the ramp, and reached out with her foot. She slowly lowered her toe, until it touched the boarding ramp. It was... spongy. It didn't make any sense. Xelina began to feel a sense of very mild, almost imperceptible, impatience, and decided to scramble up the ramp.
Xelina Djo just sat there, in silence, beside Scourge. She couldn't believe that on the worst day of her life, it had been a man who had made things less unbearable. She felt a large, strong arm wrap itself around her shoulders. The arm felt strangely cold, like it was... dead. Before she could think more on it, Scourge was gently pulling her closer to him. After a brief hesitation, she rested her head against the left side of his chest. Where was his heartbeat? And his chest wasn't rising or falling at all. Xelina realized that she couldn't hear him breathing. His body was also cold, like his arm had been.
"You have questions," Scourge said.
"Yes," she said slowly, sitting up as he removed his arm from her shoulders.
"About three thousand five hundred years ago, I went through a dark side ritual which rendered me immortal. But it was not as I'd expected. The pain was excruciating, like being thrown into the fires of hell. And so I learned to numb myself. I can no longer feel textures or temperatures. I cannot feel the wind on my skin or the sun on my face. It hurt when I breathed. It hurt every time my hurt would beat, and ever time blood flowed through my veins. And it turns out that those things are not necessary when you're immortal."
Xelina was silent a moment. "It sounds more like... being... dead."
"In a way, it is," Scourge agreed. "You should rest. It will be a while longer before we reach Typhon."
There Xentira stood, a fatal, cauterized wound where her heart should have been. Her adorable little face was stricken with horror. "Please, don't do this," the girl pleaded. "They made me do it."
"I'm sorry," Xelina sobbed.
Xentira's face twisted into an expression of rage and hatred. "'Sorry' won't bring me back. You murdered me," she said coldly. "I'm gone. Forever." And then Xentira was gone.
Xelina woke up sobbing. Her baby sister couldn't be gone, but she was. Forever.
"I'm sorry," Scourge said softly. Xelina could tell that it was unnatural for this Red Man to comfort someone, but she appreciated that he was making the effort.
"I miss her."
"What was her name?"
"Xentira. I've never loved anyone as much as I love her," Xelina said. "We would spend hours in the forest together. I held her when we slept. I can't believe she's gone."
Scourge placed a somewhat cold, yet comforting, hand over hers. "I will help you through this, Xelina."
"Thank you, Scourge." Xelina hadn't realized, until now, just how beautiful this Red Man's accent truly was. It had the precise annunciation and clipped syllables of an Imperial accent. But there was also a smooth, foreign element she hadn't heard before. "How much longer..." Xelina trailed off, speechless. She'd never felt anything so powerful and vibrant in the Force.
"Welcome to Typhon," Scourge said.