HoloNet News BREAKING NEWS: Darth Raze Presumed Dead

[The Storyteller]

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BREAKING NEWS

This just in: Darth Raze, the dark menace who has been terrorizing and destroying the occupants of so many planets is presumed dead.

Reports are still coming in from the ground on Ossus where Imperial forces were in stiff combat against the invading abomination army of Darth Raze. Initial waves of Imperial troops were being thrown back by the ferocious onslaught of the abomination army the same as we had seen on so many worlds.

What is different this time was the leadership of the army on the ground. Early footage shows General Max Dram, arguably the most distinguished General in the Imperial Armed Forces, as well as Lord Commander Varyn Atrix of the Imperial Knights locked in combat with the Dark Lord.

With the battle turning into a route against the side of the Imperials, a heroic sacrifice was made by the officers on the ground as they ordered the full might of the Imperial Navy and Air Corps to be unleashed on their position where they fought the Dark Lord. The entire city surrounding the combat between the Dark Lord and the General and Lord Commander was leveled, with the ground turned to glass and no apparent survivors.

Along with the Dark Lord, the Lord Commander and General Dram are presumed to be casualties of the battle as well. We can only hope that this will bring an end to the destruction that has been tearing across the galaxy. Continue to follow along for further updates in the coming hours.[/color]

 

[Jonathen Baize]

Jon had been listening to holo broadcasts as he worked since they had started coming in about Ossus. For the first time since he had left the IAF, he felt restless as the loss reports had started to come in. Soldiers held whatever line they could and paid the ultimate price to buy the planet's inhabitants just a few more minutes to escape the hoard.

As things grew to their darkest, the reports stopped coming in altogether. Jon felt the lump in his throat as his stomach churned. The planet had surely been lost. He was about to turn off the broadcast when the final update came through.

Jon hung his head, filled with sorrow, but he also felt pride. General Dram had been one of the damn finest leaders he had ever served under. The Empire had lost one of its brightest stars today. He had never worked directly with the Lord Commander, but in their brief interactions and by reputation, he was a man of great honor and conviction. He would carry their memory on.

Thousands of drinks would be poured and left sitting in honor around bars throughout Imperial space. Their work was done; they could rest now.

Jon had seen firsthand the horrors of the Force on Dathomir, and Raze was said to have been far worse. A devil so evil soldiers feared saying his name. Whatever the price had been to seal his defeat, it had surely been worth it.

Perhaps now, the Galaxy could find a moment of peace. He doubted that was possible, but he hoped.

He poured out a glass of whiskey, one for himself and one for the soldiers who had given their lives.

"Rest Easy, General." he said, throwing the shot back. @Alhon

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Irirangi woke suddenly from meditation in shock, in fear, every muscle tense as shadowy echoes reached him from across the universe.

Amber-gold eyes opened to watch as the emergency broadcast played. Darth Raze, the Wraithlord, Dark Lord of the Sith. Killed by orbital bombardment. Just like how Warmaster Din had destroyed the Empress and her council from above in a sudden coup.

Nakoa had never met General Dram, but he had known Varyn years ago when 'Sith' also meant 'Empire'. He remembered the man's determined fervor and calm competence, and his close friendship with Atlair. One the most terrifyingly skilled swordsmen of his age. Sacrificed to destroy an even greater threat. A great loss of knowledge and experience. A wound to the Empire and, undoubtedly, to Altair himself.

He supposed it was the quintessential Imperial solution. But still, it was hard to process such a being ended by mundane, if overwhelming, means. The Dark Lord wore his infamous reputation for competence in death, terror, and tactics like a cloak of screaming souls as much rumor of a passion for history, philosophy, and the most esoteric things. They'd been an eldritch nightmare come to life in the shape of a man.

Yet, nothing could survive getting hit by that. On Ossus the ground was left as blackened glass. Not even the barest bone ash possibly remained. The Shaman had heard it, felt it.

A mighty bellow from something inscrutable. Cries of rage, the wailing of civilians and soldiers in accompaniment like a twisted choir. And then, bleak, empty silence. Lord Raze was dead. And with him, every collected knowledge and experience of his long and successful life. Gone in an instant.

He had outlived all his peers, risen to the status of galactic boogeyman, enemy of life. Nakoa respected him and his power, his knowledge of the Force, his planning. Nakoa feared him, too, from the very beginning of his journey out into the galaxy. The Wrean shaman was even inspired by Raze, among others, and his self-inspired rise to dominance. And now... he was dead. And they'd never even met.

But an end to the destruction like the news reporter had hopefully said? No, this wouldn't come to pass. Not at all.

Irirangi knew better. Peace is a lie. Raze's end would be a beacon.

This was just the beginning.

 

[Merian Sere]

It was a strange combination, pride and emptiness. But pride came first, like he would want it to.

The Empire had done what no one else could. Where the Jedi had failed, where Coruscant and so many others had fallen, the Empire stood alone, a beacon of strength and hope the rest of the galaxy had been too blind to follow. They would have no choice but to see it now. And who would oppose their campaign against the Jedi, to ensure no one as powerful as Raze could ever rise again?

Then the emptiness. The unimaginable cost of it. Ossus lost, millions dead. The bravest among them torn apart, turned against each other, like Dathomir all over again. And just like Dathomir, the most powerful Force user alive had met its end at the hand of the Empire’s army.

The most powerful Force user alive… and the Lord Commander.

Merian hadn’t often crossed his path, and every time she’d come away feeling like he despised her. On Anzat she’d been the only one to survive long enough to see him in action. Not quite Jedi, not quite Sith. Not quite Imperial, either, she couldn’t help feeling. Yet in death he’d earned himself the respect of every soul from Raxus to Taris. Merian included.

“Today your Empire mourns you, Varyn Atrix,” she said, alone in her quarters. This moment she wouldn’t share even with Kellan. “I don’t know if you ever found a home, but I hope you find rest. Know the Imperial Knights have never been prouder to call you their leader.”

“May your sacrifice bring life and safety to the Empire you called yours. And may we all have the strength to do what you did, when the time comes…”

There were words missing, more to say, Merian could feel it, but what she forgot died on her lips.

@Phoenix

 

[Emryc Thorne]

The President of the ISC was on his way to a diplomatic briefing when he felt a sudden, piercing pain in his mind. It was overwhelming enough to where he stumbled and collapsed right there in the lobby. His droids rushed to his side, along with an entire entourage of staffers. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind sent into sudden chaos. His palms were on the floor, nails grazing against the smooth surface.

The galaxy saw a victory and celebration. He saw that too. And yet a part of him felt a sense of tremendous loss. While another tiny, little part of him could only recall the entity that formed in his mind as his shield. The entity that got him through the CADRE program, that served as a shield against the horrors the Sith unleashed on him, the barrier between him and losing the last shred of his humanity. And an even smaller part in his mind hissed and reeled. A tiny little pulse of something inexplicable. Like a phantom limb from where Tiamat had severed their connection.

The headache was pounding and severe, his silver eyes beginning to water from the pain alone. He groaned from the agony, barely aware of everyone rushing around him or trying to help him. After a long moment, the wave passed, and he was left lying on the ground exhaling shuddered breaths. He reached down with a shaky hand for his EZPhone, dialing his husband at once.

“...The children are safe..” He whispered to Jaikus.

@Altaris

 

[Cremek "Krayt" Candorus]

cremek listened in his cell, feeling the back of his neck.. and so it was over, lord raze had fallen, such a pity... the creator of his.. gift.. was no more.. at least.. that's what the news says..

he wondered how his.. kin.. at the blood grounds were taking this.. would his fellow exalted crumble? fall into nothingness? would they go on some grand crusade?.. oh the possibilities!

but.. the story reeked to him, if he was truly dead, would they not parade his corpse?.. or was he missing something.. as a.. scientific mind, cremek had to know..


there was only one way to test to see if lord raze truly was dead.. he knew where he had to go, as soon as he was able to do so..

hoth.. ​

hey.. if the big man had indeed kicked the bucket... it wouldn't hurt to pick at the bones.. perhaps he could learn a thing or two..

cremek would focus his mind, silencing the outside world.. if there was a means to escaping thule, he trusted the force to show him..

 

[Nevizkas]

The death of Raze sent a shiver down the spine of every being that could sense it. Some would feel liberated, others lost, but Cyutadakyr felt neither.

Raze dominated the galaxy, both literally and figuratively, since before the majority of the Sith Order was born. His name was synonymous with the complete and utter mastery of the force, and the utter dread pooled at the bottom pits of your stomach. None had achieved, none matched his deeds spanning decades of terror and control. For every action credited to his hand, lay a dozen more unknown to the sands of time.

His reach extended far beyond his physical body, just the mere mention of his name invoked a deep seeded fear within one's soul, colder than the worst that Hoth could muster. The empire he built with the bodies he stacked, the Order that failed to meet his high expectations.

Raze wasn't just a man, he was a visionary. A bold leader daring to walk where there was no path, climb where there was no step and soar where there was no safety.

There would be no celebration, nor tears from this pureblood for the being called Raze. His death would be felt across the galaxy, but the void that he left far exceeded the Orders' ability to fill in the present. But in that they must, whether they agreed with his philosophy or not, for the Sith stood on the shoulders of giants.

@Sreeya

 

[Khlan Gonk]

Khlan looked over the news several times as his near permanent grin widened ever so slightly. He reached over to his droid and patted it slightly as he processed the information. So the Sith Lord was dead eh? How fitting he met his end at the hands of the Imperial Forces. For a Sith, that was the best way to go: In the chaos of combat, trying to end the lives of your enemies. Not that Khlan wanted that kind of end. He wanted something better.

Still, despite the fact that Khlan should feel sorrow or sadness or perhaps fear at the fact that the Dark Lord was dead, Khlan was actually starting to get giddy. Such a death would leave a power vacuum in the Sith, and where there was a vacuum, there was chaos. And where there was chaos, there was opportunity. True, every sithling and their brother was going to vie for the Dark Lord's title now. There would be conflicts, sides, and grevious injuries. And Khlan would be there to help where he could...for a price. After all, even a Sith needed doctors.

 

[Kalique Baize]

Kalique had just landed on Raxus, her mind spinning and lacking any words for what had enfolded on Ossus. Darth Raze had been a tyrant who hadn't stopped for anyone or anything. A threat on a Galactical scale that had kept them all busy for years. It wasn't easy to predict where he or his abominations planned on striking next, but the past had shown that he was threat no one really managed to control, wrecking havoc, pure destruction and death whereever the powerful entity landed.

He had gone after the Jedi on Ilthor and the Galaxy had suffered severe losses with a majority of the Council eradicated. Then there was the Core, countless refugees had desperate attempted to flee from the horrendous monsters that had been unleashed on Coruscant, leaving the ecumenopolis in ashes and empty.

The Empire had welcomed refugees, Kalique had helped them settle on Entralla herself, but after having witnessed the horrors of the Wraith, it had been obvious that no one would ever truly return to a normal life. It had been a sheer question of time when the Empire would be targeted as well and dreading the day, Kalique had spent many nights tossing and turning, wondering whether there even was a way to stop this madness.

And then came Ossus, and soon after the command of the Orbital strike. Countless of Civilians perished, thousands of soldiers dead, a command given by the Lord Commander with whom she had worked with closely and a fateful decision that changed the whole state of the Galaxy within moments.

The ripple within the Force had been uncanny, but unmistakable. While the monster had survived the Jedi and the Core, it was the Empire that had finally brought an end to the sheer disaster that awaited them all. The costs were immeasurable and pain ran deep, not just for the ones she had personally known, but for the mass of lives that had been ended this day.

Her throat felt dry and constricted and the images that flicked through the holonet were traumatizing, leaving her conflicted. How could you feel truly relieved when the prices paid had been this high? Varyn had sacrificed it all, far more than his own life, for the greater good and it would never be forgotten.

No doubt the Galaxy was a safer place, if only for a short while though, and the Empire itself as well, but the losses would weight them all down for a while. She didn't even realize she was shaking while it was impossible not to follow the reports that kept piling in every second.

She didn't doubt it had been a fully conscious decision of Varyn, not a desperate one, but he had gone for what was necessary to achieve what no one else had. She was hoping his soul found peace within the Force as tears came streaming down her cheek. Maybe they all could find some more peace, if only for a while...

@Sreeya @Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Most every Force-user in the galaxy had probably felt it, but Arla had felt it even more keenly than most. She was connected to Raze in ways the galaxy wouldn't ever know, and part of him still ran in her blood even after all this time.

Ever since they had met and parted ways, he was the only person in the galaxy she feared. The only person who genuinely unsettled her in her soul, and so she was glad he was dead. And yet she wasn't. Perhaps a part of her had wondered if one day they would join forces again. Perhaps it was that piece of him that lived in her. Perhaps she really was the worst part of her father. She thought back to those words that Ezra had spoken to her on Kashyyyk and she found herself once again puzzling over the emotions they invoked in her.

It should have been simple. She should have been happy. She was. And she wasn't.

She found herself pacing along the open air landing pad on the planet Muunilinst but her mind was lightyears away. It was once again pondering the galaxy and her place in it. It was pondering the piece of her mind that said that things were never final. It was shoved down as she made way for the immediate. The here and now required her attention, and the "what-ifs" had no role but to cause indecision.

Next step forward, she muttered to herself.

 

[Kayden Skyler]

Spoiler: Music IC

Somewhere at the edge of space, in the darkness between the stars, a ship drifted where no one would think to find it…where no one would hear the screams of Silence.

“DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON'T!!!”

The call bounced around the walls of the chamber. A loud noise. A dull echo, cold and alone. A lonely, lonely voice. A scream amid the ceiling's sweet sound of music beside a muted viewscreen.

“STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!”

Listen to this one. A voice mentioned of the chamber’s guest, arms and legs outstretched, bound to a metal frame in the shape of an X. It is a stuck pig.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Yet Kayden went with ‘Yes’. Slipped his blade beneath the flesh and slid the skin away from the chest. Blood wept, rivulets still trickling from the sockets in the guy’s head where bright blue eyes used to be.

Pretty things. He asked for them back, didn't he? Poor guy.
If they were his then they wouldn’t be in the bucket, right?
Good point yet again, Kayden. His tongue is next, maybe?
You do like to hide your hide before you get naked, lately.

They were both naked. Only one was breathing easy in between the other's pleas.

“Keep this screaming up and I’m gonna have to rethink the name of my ship, bud.”

Hey Kay, wanna know the name of the baby I didn't have 'cause some asshat left me for dead?
Ah, yes. LAEONAS.

“Master," called another voice. “The others are...exhausted... Shall I feed them?"
“Not yet, and too soon for any rest,” Master said. “Hmm I sense a disturbance…"

It was…curious. Deep. That feeling. Like Darkness had manifested within Kayden’s body and spirit that very moment. It was hard to tell whether this wound he felt in the Force, this hole, was the result of something entering or leaving hell.

Distracted again, Kayden? Ignoring me like a whore? Had enough of your sister?

“P-Please…” The other man sobbed. “L-Let me go…I…I can’t even…s-see…”

“Shhh. Hold that thought.” Something else piqued Kayden’s curiosity as he turned up the viewscreen to a breaking news report.

Kaaaaaaaaaaaydeeeeeeeeeen.
“I’m gonna fucking kill you if you touch me again,” the slab of meat cried. “I swear it..."
“Quiet, quiet! This is important...”

Ossus. Conflict. Invasion. All that carnage and chaos and I missed it...thanks to these squealing pigs.

"I s-said if you take any more skin from me I'm gonna FUCKING KILL YOU!"
KAYDEN KAYDEN IT RHYMES WITH BACON.
“I said SHUT UP!” A flick of the wrist and all he heard from the pig was a gurgle. Then his silence.

Orbital bombardment. Darth Raze presumed to be dead. Presumed. Yet…if he’s gone…then the song…

“Minion,” Kayden beckoned.
“How may I serve, master?”
“Contact Dr. Sawin. Find Cheriss the Champion.”
@Sicadorito

HELLO, CHERISS.

He gazed back at the mass of bleeding meat.
“And bring me another slab. Apparently this one has stopped breathing."

Glassed. Yes. Yet we have glasses. A shadow from a distance? Perhaps. Oh, I can see it. Tap it. Twist it. Like a pair of bare breasts. Timeless. Infinite. Connected. Violent. Can't go there yet. Even with permission. Got business. It's bidden. But what if she...is already...waiting...for...me..?

"How far is Ossus?"
“...”
“Are you deaf?" Kayden sighed. "Don't make me regret the day I flayed your girlfriend and kept you instead.” Looked right, looked left, couldn’t find the guy. Where did he go?

Oh. There was no one there to begin with, Kayden.

He considered his sister's words for a moment, as one considers a whisper in the wind, then his future. A power vacuum. “Do you know what this means?”

You’re gonna need a powerful vacuum to clean up this room?

“It means she will be easier to free..." Cleaning his blade, he truly rued the day he was given an idiot for a twin who didn't already know this. Then again, does any Sith, Kayden?

"You see, all that power of the dark side consumes and blinds you to the true darkness lying within. You bind it, it binds you. You feed on it, it starves you. Like Nihilus. Like my bastards in the basement." And he gave as much thought to them as he did the contents of his toilet.

"However, Lady Darkness, sweet sister, is deeper than any singularity, darker than Darth Vader's karking helmet. The upside down. That circle so round. Raze was a nexus of another kind." Kayden mused, sharpening his knife. He knew the truth. You have to leech the wounds.

"Granted, I admire the guy's Abominations.” His own freaks and fools were little and less in comparison; neither the mutes and mongrels of his Silence or the experiments of Sawin.

“Now her voice will be louder. No longer silent. And I am finally going to find her and free her.” Kayden promised.
"And I'll flay every fucking man, woman and child of this galaxy the same way I—"

There is no anguish if there is no emotion.
"Hm?" He looked throughout the room.
"Whoever you are, wherever you are—"
A twitching cheek. A tall and twisted thing.

Kayden gazed down at his hand, once brown in complexion, now pale as ice, or like the semen he had injected into that one bitch’s belly to make his bastard. "Darkness is coming..."

He raised a brow at the other man with black holes for eyes and a river of blood at his throat. “Bring me another slab,” Kayden commanded, pulling back a dangling flap of skin like fabric. “Apparently this one has stopped breathing.”

Kayden?
Darkness?
Come free me.
It is...my destiny.

With about a thousand words, a million cries and screams, however many it might take in this universe, Kayden Skyler would paint the skies and bathe the seas in blood, as long as she was free, as long as she comes.

Even if he has to give a chronicle of a reaction overly verbose that nobody really needs to read. Oh, especially so... Though this was still Raze's show, dead or alive. Quite right.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

It was like a thunder clap that ripped through her mind, body and soul, a snapping that alerted Lyra to something, but before she could process what exactly it was, there was a sheering white pain that caused the dark woman to stumble backwards from her work. She felt immensely weak, the pain continued as though she were being stretched as her mind reeled, her thoughts couldn't form anything remotely intelligent as she dropped to her knees and let out a scream through labored breaths. The Force ripped violently from the woman, stirring up anything and everything around her before it found its new home chaotically strewed across the lab. Blood dripped from her nose onto the stone floor and she fell forward, catching herself with her palms.

No...it couldn't be...not so soon...

She reached out to grasp the edge of her work table, trying to pull herself up, but the pain throbbed with every breath, every flinch and movement she made. She refused to believe he was gone, he was a god among them, a manifestation of the darkness she and others served. It could not be killed, he was not of flesh, and Lyra would see that the joy and peace the galaxy celebrated would be short-lived.

The woman managed to pull herself to the side of the workbench, resting her back against the drawers, her mind protesting against any thought as she tried to push against the pain. She still couldn't catch her breath as she felt the strained pull of her master, her lord as though it were overstretched. Further now than previously, when Emryc Thorne locked him away and he was always so close but just out of her reach. "You can't be gone...not again, it can't happen again," she hissed through her teeth.

Lyra was ready to walk through all the hells to find him, any who chose to get in the way of her path will submit or fall with their final breath.

 

[Kellan Solari]

Bloody Bantha Cantina​

Aaloth System​

1900 Hours​

The death toll metrics pouring out of the HoloNet display saw a suffocating pall spread across the normally raucous cantina. Beings from all walks of life stood in stunned disbelief, incredulous faces blank and upturned, listening intently to the anchor outlining the extent of the carnage on Ossus and the incredible human cost at which the life of the galaxy’s most notorious Force user had been purchased.

“Bleedin’ Empire glassed the planet.” a Bothan in a civic work uniform finally said. Stunned utterances of acknowledgement trailed his sentiment. “Just to get rid of one man.”

“Easy Nek.” the barman warned. “Weren’t just any man. That’s Darth Raze done and dusted.”

The clarification did little to pacify the increasingly agitated Nek. He searched the faces of his fellow patrons as he spoke.

“But those were Imperial citizens!” he objected, one finger leveled at the HoloNet display. On the screen, footage of the scarred and scorched wasteland that had once been Ossus smoldered. “They fried millions of their own citizens!”

“Any decent Imperial citizen knows the value of a sacrifice made for the greater good.”

Deep and authoritative, the voice boomed out behind Nek and the Bothan turned to meet it. The throng of bodies seemed to slink and ebb away and Lieutenant Kael Brax stood motionless, meeting the Bothan’s unwavering stare with his own. The veteran pilot towered over the Bothan, a muscled totem of unwavering resolve. His great hands were balled up into fists. Behind one brawny shoulder, the rest of Alpha Squadron sat crowded round a collection of tables, nursing their drinks and watching the confrontation unfold with an air of bored familiarity.

But Nek was deep into his cups.

“Is that right?” the Bothan asked, features curling into a sardonic smile. “All those women and children? The old and the lame? Incinerated in the breadth of an instant because the Empire couldn’t hold the line. You think that’s how they saw their impending deaths? As a sacrifice made for the greater good?”

“What I think,” Lieutenant Brax began, “is that it’s easy to sit out here on the Rim, getting drunk and talking big. No guts required.”

“Guts?” Nek laughed. “Guts is it? You call incinerating an entire population from the safety of orbit guts?! Is that what you Navymen tell yourselves as you fry children with the push of a button?”

Another figure emerged at Brax’s side. Smaller, dark featured and wearing the rank of captain. He watched the Bothan wordlessly for a moment and then stepped into the space between the two figures.

“Tell me, friend.” Kellan said with an easy smile. “If Raze and his monstrosities took Coruscant, what chance do you think a backwater like Aaloth would have stood?”

Nek’s alcohol-suffused glare seemed to momentarily weaken at this. He looked around as though searching for some beacon of support.

“I’d rather have the choice!” he declared at last and stepped toward the Imperial Captain. “Rather take my fate into my own hands! Go down fighting! It beats being obliterated from space!”

The smile had dissipated from Kellan’s face.

“Choice?” he repeated. “The only choice you have is to fall in line or die. This galaxy’s built atop violence and murder and any delusions you may whisper to yourself as you sit here pickling your brains are just that. Delusions.”

Now Kellan stepped forward, bringing himself within mere inches of the Bothan’s snout. He squinted hard at the being.

“Your family, friends, culture? All these things you cherish exist on a thin layer of ice over an ocean of violence and chaos.” A fanatical tint in his eyes. “Darth Raze was no monster. He was as natural as anything else that comes screaming out of the abyss. There’ll always be another. And all those things you cherish will be swallowed whole. Who’s going to protect you? The Jedi? The Senate?”

The skin visible around Nek’s eyes had blanched but his stubborn streak remained. He made the mistake of poking an objecting finger into the Imperial’s chest. Solari caught him neatly with a tight hook that sent the Bothan sprawling to the cantina floor. He turned round and stared up at Kellan with a mixture of shock and anger.

Lieutenant Brax stepped forward but Kellan held out a restraining hand.

“Leave him, Brax. Opinions like his don’t matter.” He turned back towards the rest of Alpha Squadron and started off. “Not anymore.”

 

[Dash Pavan]

Dash fiddled with the zip of his scant pajamas while he waited for the caf machine to brew. They were hardly suited to quarters built inside an icy mountain, but he rarely felt cold anywhere, let alone in a temple he had mostly built himself.

Ezra was probably still out like a light, in one of his deep, almost catatonic slumbers. Dash could hardly blame him this time; building the focus for the nexus had stretched them both, almost to breaking. But caf would help them come round. Dash arranged a couple of marshmallows for his own on the counter top, though he knew better than to put so much sugar in Ezra's.

The Rhinnalian flicked the holo display on while he waited, only half taking in the news anchor's words as he stirred their mugs. Only when he turned did he see the strapline.

DARTH RAZE PRESUMED DEAD.

Dash dropped the mugs, leaping back instinctively to keep his bare feet clear.

"Baby!" he called, before he thought. The mix of panic and anxiety in his voice would likely reverberate through their bond. He stepped around the spilt drinks and upturned cups, putting the hewn kitchen island between him and the screen.

Raze dead. It had to be good news, it had to be. The demon had cast a shadow over the galaxy and the Thorne family for so long. He hated to see Ez struggling with all their connection had done to him. Part of Dash hoped his man would not wake and maybe they could just avoid the topic completely for a little while longer.

@Sreeya

 

[Laeonas Tannaras]

​

He’d felt it. Writhing in his bed, nightmares of broken bodies and burning cities tormenting him, the disturbance pierced his unwaking mind like a hot knife cutting butter.

His ship rattled as a scream erupted from his throat, propelled out of him by years of pain, hate and terror. Years spent in an unwoken hell that had poisoned his mind and chipped away at his sanity night after night. Years that came from an existence dominated by the paranoia and trauma that came with the screamings of a billion voices crying out, the death rattle of a world as it burned to ash.

He woke as he always had, in a cold sweat, eyes wide, darting around. The force lashed at a vague shadow in the corner of his room and the redwood wardrobe shattered to splinters as fine silks and clothes erupted like smoke. He reached for a light, and he looked around, panic in his heart, before he finally reached out and realized he was, as always, alone.

He stood on shaky feet, balancing himself as he trembled. He summoned a remote into his hand and clicked on the holo mounted on his wall. He scrolled through channels full of idle gossip, pulpy action flicks and holonovelas that had been on air for three hundred consecutive years. Arriving at the news channels, he waited.

It couldn’t get worse. The galaxy was falling apart by the seams. The empire expanded, the Jedi retreated, the Sith struck out to cause chaos and discord and noone did anything.

Had it struck his homeworld? Had Brentaal been consumed in a tidal wave of abominations? Was his cousin dead? His uncle? Or was it Chandrilla, was his mother- was his mother–

DARTH RAZE PRESUMED DEAD.

The Brentaalan– The man, The Padawan, The Exile, The Bastard– Laeonas stood and stared at the screen, stared at the anchor who reported on what had happened.

He closed his eyes. He counted his fingers. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He reahed out with the force, closing his eyes, the wider galaxy opening itself to him. He could feel the wound of the battlefield the news anchor spoke of, where the imperials had clashed with abominations, and the world burned.

He let out a gasp, then a retch, vomiting on the floor of his room. He broke into laughter and then shifted into sobs, wiping his mouth as he collapsed back onto his bed. He screamed into a pillow and yanked at his hair, and he shot his fists into the air and yelled in triumph.

He didn’t know what would greet him a few hours later, the mess of his room cleaned up and a fine bottle of Nabooian red empty. He didn’t even know how he felt– joy that the perpetrator of his worst nightmares was dead? Triumph that an anathema to life had been put down and that millions had probably been saved? Mournful that men and women who’d fought it had paid the price to save the galaxy? Angry that he hadn’t been able to watch the abomination’s life drain from his eyes as his hands crushed it’s throat?

He was a whirlwind of passion and drunk emotion, and so, he closed his eyes, and focused himself. He laid back, the force passing through him, chest rising and falling with each breathe. Emotion, yet peace.

He knew that whatever greeted him in his dream’s tonight would be unpleasant. Pain colored his soul. It always would. He’d never met Raze. Billions had suffered worse fates at its hands. The scars it had left on the galaxy would never heal.

But knowing it was gone, hoping it was gone… he hoped it could make it easier to heal.

 

[Hauron Solus]

Spoiler: Music

Song

Hauron had just gotten off the comlink with his father when he looked at the holonet broadcast. The man had told him about his personal account but he had not crossed paths with Darth Raze, unlike his son on not one, but two occasions no less. Hauron let the commlink fall to the deck of his ship, clattering as he stumbled back into a chair. The young rally master was speechless as he came to terms with the news. Coverage of the story continued to play in the background regardless of the mandalorian's state.

Water welled up in the mikkians eyes and a sensation of relief he could not have expected came washing over him. Hauron cried with tears streaming down his face as he flashed back to each close encounter, each consequence of the Wraith he had come across. Now he was free of him finally. The galaxy was spared the scourge evil and Hauron would maybe be able to sleep at night for the first time in forever.

The man held his face in his hands. It would be many minutes until the mikkian's sobs eventually slowed, calming and ending with a slight chuckle. Darth Raze was dead and that was a blessing he was grateful for. The mandalorian wiped the snot from his nose. First he looked up towards the ceiling of his ship as if to see the heavens above him and then around the cabin before closing his reddened eyes. The Solus rally master clasped both hands together and quietly thanked those that made the ultimate sacrifice, the Force, thanked his ancestors, the manda and all the forgotten gods of Mandalore for this gift. Hauron Solus would not let it go to waste.