Ravenous Tongue
Deus spent his time meditating, channeling the Force into his body and changing the currents and streams so they would come easier into his being when he needed it the most. For once, in a long time since he'd begun his new training under the watchful guise of the Sith Masters, he felt at peace.
It wasn't in part due to the training, however, as he felt more at peace with himself. Drawing upon his hatred was becoming harder, though he hid it well when he fought in front of his superiors. In truth, he had felt more at peace due to the presence of Rena. Nothing else had completed him in the last four months as much as being in her presence and knowing that he had someone to call his own.
His eyes closed and lost in the currents and stream of the Force, he could feel the unsettling ripples of Rena rise before him, causing him to rise and open his artificial gaze without so much as becoming aware.
"Sleep well?" She asked him, scratching her head before entering the refresher.
"I feel rejuvenated—such is the way of the Force and meditation," he replied, his synthetic voice booming louder than he had expected. Even after years of use, he still couldn't grow used to it. Silently he wished he could hear his voice, but he knew that the technicians that had fitted him told him there would never be a chance for him to see like a normal person or to speak like one. Such was his fate, as a clone—gifted with a strong affinity for the Force and cursed without sight and voice. He looked at her, seeing only a red figure and readings with some clarity of what her face looked like. "You should try it, rather than sleeping."
She shrugged, looking at him and feeling more at ease. "You should try sleeping-it might do you some good if you dream. Might bring you that much closer to humanity," she replied, bringing her forefinger and thumb a hair's breadth towards each other.
He cocked his head, not quite comprehending what she meant.
She sighed and opened a tap, throwing cold water over her face. She knew he was looking at her, and she could feel how far along he had come. His abilities with the Force had become a strong maelstrom, ready to suck in his victim and crush them without remorse. Rena knew, however, that her brother would never surmount to one of the Sith—he had a gentle side that not even their supposed Masters knew existed.
Pressing a finger on a little pad mounted to the wall, the doors hissed closed and she proceeded to remove her sweat-soaked clothes, stepping into the small cubicle that shot down water from a stainless steel spout which quickly spread across her body, damping her golden skin and soothing the bruises she had obtained through the rigorous training. She rubbed her skin gently, leaning on the wall and lost in her thoughts.
She had been dreaming about Dante again and this time, she had faced him on a world of ice and snow, with the biting wind freezing their joints. This time, the Jedi Knight had been without a mask, only a murderous expression that chilled Rena to the bone.
What does it all mean? Will I have to fight him to the death or will he fall completely? The only difference in the dream was that Dante brandished a lightsaber that blazed with a furious sapphire.
Will I fall to the Dark Side and he will have no choice but to fight against me? She sighed, letting the warmth of the water replace the chill that ran up her spine. I'm a clone of the 'almighty Revan' and yet somehow, I could never win against Dante when I fought him. It just doesn't make sense and now I am stuck with the Sith who want me to become like them and lead a group of blank slate Revans.
She let the water run down her body for a few more minutes before shutting it off and stepping out of the stall, picking up a towel and running it across her face.
"I heard you last night," Deus said through the door.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied.
"You had a nightmare."
"You don't know what nightmares are, Deus," she reminded him poignantly.
"Regardless, it left you perturbed once again. This is the fifth time in three nights. Should I ask the doctor to prescribe you some medication for your sleeping habits?"
Rena inhaled sharply and wrapped the towel around her body, opening the door and looking Deus square in the eye. "No and never mention anything to the doctor or anyone else, do you understand me?"
He nodded, oddly hurt at her biting reply.
"We can't trust anyone and if the 'good' doctor were to prescribe me something, it would get back to the Sith. In the end, they are questing for perfection, Deus—they'll stop at nothing to remove imperfections. They'll separate us; is that what you want?"
He shook his head.
"Good." She hated hurting him—she could feel a puncture in the surrounding tempest that was the Force signifying his presence. It was a necessity, however, and she knew in time he would learn. Deus was good like that: quick to please and quicker to learn. He could make a dangerous foe and Rena was glad she had him on her side.
Not even the vile assassin Lotus Xa could stand up to him. It still surprised her that Lotus had managed to outmanoeuvre Dante at the last possible moment, though that wasn't to say her Master was not infallible.
Dante was a man of many things, and though he was still younger than most other Jedi who had survived, he was still wise beyond his years—at least according to her perspective.
She shook her head and returned to the refresher, drying off her body and throwing on her clothes. Throughout the moment, she kept her gaze locked on her oceanic blue eyes, loathing her heritage and hating the fact she had become a mere puppet in a game that moved beyond life and death to a Galactic game with higher wages. Even she didn't understand Julius' motives against Revan; however, all that concerned her was reuniting herself with her Master and to be as far from the currents of the universe as possible.
Sighing, she went for her belt and looped it around her body. Once that was finished she instinctively reached for her lightsaber, only to find…nothing.
Her hand dropped and she silently cursed herself for allowing the Sith to take it from her. The only unique trait about her that reminded her that she was more human than what everyone else perceived was now in the hands of the Sith. No, not quite, she reminded herself.
Deus had the lightsaber on his belt, hoping to hold it as a keepsake of her.
She knew he'd only relinquish it to her if they were fighting for their lives—normally all of their training scenarios and the occasional Sith who decides to pick a bone with the descendants of the former Dark Lord—leaving her to accept the fact that she'd only get it back on good behaviour. She didn't know exactly what the Sith meant by 'good behaviour' but she knew those were two words that didn't go with being a Sith. Cunning, deceit, murder, cold-blooded; some of those were words that seemed to go well with being a Sith.
Stepping through the door, she held her breath, knowing this day wouldn't be any different from the last few months. The training she had to endure was slowly taking its effect and she knew it would only be a matter of time until she would lose all of her control and finally become a bent and broken servant of the Dark Side. The Corellian in her didn't like the odds that were stacked against her, though it was the only thing holding her together. The years she spent on the planet had certainly been to her favour.
Standing before her, Deus had his arms crossed, clad in the same black trousers, boots, and fibermesh tunic he wore since the first time he had met her. His imposing height and build would have scared anyone else, but Rena knew him very well: Deus was far gentler than anyone could ever comprehend.
Raising an eyebrow she asked, "yes?"
"It's time." Turning around he made towards the door, pausing for a moment and turning back to see Rena standing motionless at the refresher door, her hands crossed over her chest. He knew exactly what she intended and though it pained him to part with it, he unclipped a worn silver hilt, unadorned except for two small symbols and tossed it to her.
Catching it, she eyed the hilt carefully, running her hand over the symbols: Wookiee symbol for honour and a strange looking hawkbat surrounded by an orb. After another moment, she looked at him and allowed herself a smile. "Thanks."
Nodding, he walked through the archway, only to be shortly followed by Rena.
Julius sat in the large circular room, his eyes focused on the central arena before him and the two other beings in the room. He rubbed his hands, warming them from the unusual cold air that filtered through the room, and he watched with baited breath at the spectacle that would arrive shortly.
Beside him sat his apprentice, Darth Sardonicus and to Julius' left sat Darth Hereticus, who licked her lips in eager anticipation. No one else had bothered to enter the room, leaving the three heavily cloaked and mysterious Sith Masters on their own.
Julius was glad to have had it that way, and he was intent on keeping an eye on how well his new acquisitions would perform. It would only be a few more days before the Revenant arrived at the capital of his hidden Empire.
It would only be a few more weeks before they had everything they needed to launch their final crusade against the Jedi and its precious Galactic League. He hadn't been completely oblivious to the news of the outside universe.
Even with Revan's relentless hit-and-run strikes, the Sith war machine hadn't been stopped. During his reign as one of the Dark Lords—and a promising one at that—Revan had paid a tribute of the ancient technology from the Rakatan people, which bolstered and rearmed the might of the Sith war machine. The space-borne factory known only to the Council as the 'Star Forge' had somehow stopped producing their equipment, and it was only a few months later that they hear the news that Malak had assumed control of Revan's Empire and seized all assets. Shortly after that, Julius received news of the destruction of the Star Forge by the armed forces of the Republic and the Jedi.
By then it was too late, and he had single-handedly reorganized their war machine using the technology they had acquired.
Outer Rim planets under the sway of the true Empire had begun producing battle droids that were capable of storming and eliminating entire cities within days of a concentrated attack. The so called 'Chiss Ascendancy' had been powerless to stop them and were quickly outnumbered and beaten back.
He allowed himself a smile, grinning under the empty black hood, and knowing that in time, things would fall in place for him. If he so much as wished it, his son would join him, but for now, Aiden Carnus would be someone who could prove to destabilize his plans. Julius clasped his hands together, knowing that he was playing a game with his own son and was using the boy's resources against him. If Aiden so much as knew what Julius had planned, there was a possibility the boy might be able to halt his plans just long enough for the Jedi to catch wind and lure the Sith out into a trap.
Julius watched a sensual figure casually stepping into the large, round grate metal arena, clad in her usual skin tight clothing that just begged the question whether or not she would be better wearing nothing at all.
"Masters," she cried out, her voice filled with an eagerness to please, "we've come to the highest tier of training and today we will see how worthy your new acquisitions are." Lotus bowed, revealing her curves, if only for a brief moment. Her hair had been dyed silver, still closely cropped to her chin, split along her right side that left her bangs to cover one side of her mismatched eyes.
Almost on cue, Rena and Deus trudged up to the arena, lightsabers in hand and being escorted by a squad of powerful Sith, ostensibly under Lotus' command. To everyone else who knew better, however, there was only one person that issued commands and that was the Dark Lord Julius.
The Dark Lord couldn't help but frown, looking at the pair of clones and at the squad of Sith. Is Lotus out of her mind, or is she simply attempting a ploy? He glanced at the arena and back at Lotus, who seemed unaware of her Master's reproachful glare. After a few more minutes, he finally sighed and barked, "remove their lightsabers and give them swords."
Quickly following orders, a pair took their lightsabers, though Deus growled through his synthetic mask. Another Sith arrived shortly and handed Deus and Rena a sword each, who quickly tested its balance and were treated none-too-gently as they were guided to one end of the arena.
"Next time ensure they have no arms, Lotus," Julius growled, feeling more liberal with lessons than he was with torture—for the moment.
The assassin paled and bowed, "of course, my Lord, it shall not happen again."
"I know it won't," he replied, "otherwise you'd be out the first airlock, or my apprentice here might find suitable instruments to correct your wrong."
Sardonicus allowed himself a chuckle, while Lotus blanched at the thought. There was a reason why he had been chosen as both an apprentice and Master of the Council by Lord Julius himself.
Rising, Julius spoke up in a clear, booming and palpable voice. "You will continue to fight until you've been worn down, and you will hearken to the tenets put forth by our ancestors. If you fail to listen to the teachings and to give yourself willingly to the power of the Sith, you will find yourselves sorely lacking in death what you would have found in life."
Rena afforded a glance at Julius, who seemed to return the gesture from within his deep hood. She had to fight down the urge to shudder. There was a cold, insidious presence within the Sith Master that made Rena second guess a possible strike at him.
The decision was made before her when a large, transparent dome separated Julius and his entourage from the mayhem that would soon follow.
She narrowed her eyes and glanced over to Deus, who continued to pour forth a cooling, radiant calm that disturbed even the Sith that surrounded them. Even if they were to draw arms against her brother, Rena was willing to bet that Deus would kill them without so much as dropping a bead of sweat.
The metal grates below their feet began to rumble lightly, marking a change in their direction and leaving Rena wondering where the Revenant was actually heading.
Before she could continue pondering the question, however, Lotus and the others quickly displaced, leaving the arena and sealing the door, leaving the pair alone and without their lightsabers.
She swung aimlessly, taking in the balance and quality of the worn looking blade. A look of disgust replaced the vehement expression as the blade came to a stop in midair. "They expect us to fight with these swords?" She asked, glancing at Deus, who seemed not to be affected by the quality of his blade.
"It hardly matters—it will be sufficient enough to pass this exercise," he replied indifferently.
"Says you," Rena snorted, sorely wishing she had retained her lightsaber. She could feel the growing lure of the Dark Side begin to well in her belly, festering almost as if it were a tumour that had begun to spread through her body bit by bit. Rena swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore its growing presence. She had been fighting it for a month now, recalling on her Jedi training to deter the continued growth of the Dark Side, despite the grim truth: her incomplete training could only do so much to stem the growing tide.
Closing the gap, Deus walked towards his sister with purpose and in one swift move, he snatched her sword, handing her his own. "This will be far better suited for you," he answered, swinging his newly acquired sword with ease.
Staring at her brother in disbelief, Rena quickly composed herself and shrugged it off, muttering, "it won't be my funeral."
For all that could be said of the mysterious Deus, he merely laughed, not quite the cold, grating sound that many of the Sith presumed to be his cackling.
Rena could feel the warmth radiating from him, and strangely enough, she didn't rebuke it. She afforded herself a small smile, knowing it could very well be one of her last genuine smiles.
The rumbling of large doors before her and Deus quickly replaced her smile as a group of twelve heavily modified droids appeared, each wielding swords and carrying the distinct anvil shaped faces of the Czerka HK-50 protocol droids. The only difference from the HK-50 series droids, aside from the fact that these were carrying melee weapons, happened to be the fact that the droids were all copper coloured and wore thick gauntlets on their forearms.
Deus took a step back, bringing his sword to eye level with the blade pointed towards the droids.
Rena followed likewise, only her sword was pointed from her waist up. She could feel her heartbeat beginning to pick up its tempo, as she watched with worried silence between what orders the droids were most likely receiving and what Julius was going to say.
"This is another combat exercise," the man's voice boomed, "but with one exception: the room will be filling up with gas."
"Typical," Rena muttered under her breath, gulping an abundant amount of air down her throat.
Deus, as usual, seemed unaffected, and merely readied himself.
Without so much as an acknowledgment, the droids raced towards them with their blades whirring just fast enough to mirror the sound of a pre-Republic buzz saw. Once more, the oncoming droids reminded Rena of her sorely needed lightsaber.
Taking the assault in stride, Deus charged, meeting the homicidal droids and driving his blade down, slicing one poor HK's head in two. Deus quickly shifted to his right side, ready to meet with his second opponent, leaving Rena stunned.
Quickly composing herself, Rena raced into the fray with a warcry on her lips.
A pair of HK droids moved to intercept her with a surprisingly bloodthirsty gleam in their cold faceless expressions. The first one lunged, whilst the other charged at the young Jedi, hoping to decapitate her.
Rena ducked the wide swing and extended her hand, sending both droids away and affording her the time to control her breathing as a third droid slashed at her chest, nicking her tunic and slicing her skin.
Crying out, Rena thrust her sword, hoping to knock the droid off guard while she fought off both the tiresome effects of the gas and the stinging bite of the cut. Stepping back from the oncoming droid, she felt a growing tug in her lungs and she knew that though the Jedi breathing techniques she had learned was the only thing separating her from a gaseous death and a fighting chance, it could only give her limited time.
Deus, as usual seemed stoic, working his way through his fifth victim and without as much effort as his sister.
Suck it up, she chided, tightening her grip on her sword and glancing at the trio of droids that were now coming back towards her. She had nicked her third opponent across the chest, marking him and she paid special attention to that particular droid. Rena screamed as she made her assault, launching herself into a dazzling array of flurries that assaulted the droid in all possible angles, leaving it compensating for her quicker abilities.
The droid continued to deflect her slashes, searching for a quick opening in her defences, which she presented when her sword clashed against one of the large buzzing gauntlets on the droid's arm.
Rena stifled a groan from the shock that numbed her arm, leaving her defenceless as the sword flew from her hand. With one hand available and the other unable to move, the Jedi moved into a martial arts stance, waiting for the killing blow.
The droid brought its sword up and slashed down, ready to cleave the defenceless Jedi in two, until a large grating sound drowned out Rena's cry.
Deus groaned, removing the imbedded blade in the droid's chest and shoving the metallic corpse away. He afforded his sister a glance and quickly moved into a defensive posture. "Pick up your weapon! Go for their power cores in their chests and avoid their melee shield gauntlets."
Doing as he said, Rena picked up her sword and gently rubbed her arm to regain feeling. "So that's what it was," she mumbled, ducking under a swipe from one of the droids. She angled the blade and drove it up, into the droid's chest and hearing the satisfying sizzle of a wrecked power core. "I just thought my arm gave up fighting," she quipped as another pair moved in.
"The gas," Deus commented, blocking the slash from his current opponent. "It's gone."
Rena parried her first foe's attack before she realized Deus was right: the gas had dissipated and an uncanny wave had begun to fill the air between her and her brother. Before Rena could contemplate what new element had arrived, she found herself rolling away from the cleave the second of her foes had sent her way, and it was only when she noticed a faint flicker from a spark did it occur to her what they now faced. "Down!" She cried, leaping towards Deus and colliding with the heavy fighter, who seemed to collapse as a wave of searing fire washed over where they had stood but a few short moments ago.
"What I wouldn't give for a lightsaber," she coughed. She rested on the ground and looked along the metal grating to see the seared fragments of droids that had been standing just before the strange blaze. "Lousy Sith traps."
"Come," Deus offered his hand, already standing with that strange aura around him that enveloped Rena in what she felt was gratitude. "Be thankful that we're alive—it's not every day that you save my life."
Allowing herself a smile, Rena gladly took his hand and rose, only in time to feel something rip through the powerful warrior.
Once, then twice more scarlet streaks launched into his body, leaving the man to collapse into his sister's arms, unable to groan and cry out.
Rena watched in horror, feeling a burst and pang of pain that touched not only her brother, but somehow it ached in the palm of her hands and in her heart. Her wide, fearful eyes shifted to see one of the droids, blackened from the fire and twitching with electrical sparks holding a blaster a few feet from Deus.
"Query: it would appear that the large meatbag has not died yet. Addendum: that will be dealt with shortly." The droid took a wobbly step forward and took aim with its small holdout blaster.
In a blur, Rena's world went red with blood, pain and insatiable anger as she let her brother's wounded body drop, and with a quick flick of her wrist, she shattered the droid's blaster hand from its chassis.
"Worried statement: it would appear that the female meatbag has damaged my servos and my hand," the droid pondered aloud, taking an involuntary step back.
Gritting her teeth and growling so low and primal that not even the Council members sitting above her bothered to notice, Rena extended her hand once more and felt for the faint life force that the droid thrived on. She could touch the warm, cylindrical vibrations of its power core and without thinking twice; she took hold of it, crushing the canister deep within its chest.
The droid took a step forward, gasped and halted, shortly before it noticed the shattered chest.
She clutched the power core deep within the Force and continued to tighten her grasp until it virtually imploded, causing the droid's chest to explode. Rena still grasped the broken droid, now devoid of an arm and both of its legs, and with a primal scream, she sent the chassis through the glass that protected the leaders from her and Deus.
Along with the broken droid followed the pieces of its companions as it peppered the glass until it shattered under the relentless impact.
"Well, you have to give her some credit," Hereticus applauded. "She finally learned to harness her anger—and all it took was to shoot her brother a few times."
Almost as if to answer her, one of the broken droids' carcasses landed before her, leaving Sardonicus to chuckle.
"Sardonicus," Julius snarled, "attend to her and get the medics. We don't want to lose our most valuable prize before it has run out of its uses."
As the dark cloaked apprentice began to move from his seat, Julius added, "and don't forget to keep her alive. Ensure she doesn't end up damaged goods."
Sardonicus merely grinned. "I can't make any promises, Master."
Julius sighed and with a wave of his bony hand, his dark apprentice jumped deep into the arena. Shortly after the Sith made his arrival present, Julius heard the cries of Rena, followed by an almost continuous glimmer of blue light.
It might serve as a lesson to her that she will have to be stripped of all things that make her a Jedi in order for her to become a Sith. Julius rose and left, ignoring the young woman's screams. Still, greed and eagerness for possession is something that can be used to lure her down to our point of view. It's been done before, he mused, clasping both of his hands between his robes. Greed is a most powerful ally—and her desire to see Deus alive may be the key. He passed Lotus, who seemed to make her way towards the arena, along with several other heavily armed Sith soldiers, droids and Sith disciples.
Her desire for vengeance against Lotus may also be a key.
Julius allowed himself a smile and sighed. Already he had found several keys with which to pull Rena to the Sith—it would only take a matter of time, and that already seemed to be on his side as well. With the clones of Revan swearing their allegiance to him and the new weapon he had constructed, it would only be a matter of time before the Sith made their way back into the Galaxy as uncontested Masters.