Ask Nemesis Games

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

A Pyke had patience. Sometimes patience was a forced habit for some. A practiced practice. Not for him. He actually liked it. Like in this instance.

Instead of lifting his finger again, Cul kept quiet and politely stood with his hands behind his back, letting Cheriss do the work and she did not disappoint as she silenced their voices.

Cheriss was correct. People generally did not want to mess with the Pykes. They were ruthless, vicious, fearless contestants who didn’t blink a violet eye in the face of the violent Hutts, but unlike their counterparts they got their hands dirty, and did worse.

Yet you really didn’t want to mess with the Sith. Cheriss had proven this in one sitting when they had first met. With her lightsaber. With her lightning. And again in this setting. With her tendrils of the Force. Power. That’s what she provided. That’s what she displayed. Bridled, but unshackled, power.

“As do we.”

The Sith opened the door and they both stepped forth. If a Pyke was being honest he might have expected some more extensive and sophisticated security systems in place. On the other hand, not only could they be more advanced deeper in, even automated rather than made of man or otherwise, he realized that a place like this was literally hidden to begin with.

A place like this needed few eyes, needed less presence. Cheriss had the power to scramble cameras from a distance, to access computers with her hands in ways that Cul didn’t, but too much surveillance meant too many eyes. Too many blasters meant too many guards. Too many minds meant too much risk of somebody deciding to spill the secrets or sell them to rivals.

A Pyke thinks about this as he walks. He has the time and space to do it down a long hallway and neither he nor the Sith care to talk. Metal on either side. Walls and floor. No doors. It’s dark. A dead end at the end. No guards. No. Not dead. It’s a junction. The corridor splits with signs for either side.

“Labs to the left. Cells to the right.”

Whatever they picked was bound to offer information one way or the other. Labs likely meant where experiments took place. Cells likely meant where specimens, fresh or experimented on already, were being kept for said experiments.

“I pick labs. Cells probably houses every…thing…in a wide variety but labs should have data on experiments—and potentially specimens already being processed.”

They could split up but, at least for Cul, he didn’t really trust Cheriss to share what secrets she would uncover and, if a Pyke is being honest, she shouldn’t trust him either.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Quin Leonkri]

At Vayla’s confirmation to enter, Quin would go in with her. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was no one in the room, but it had to mean that someone was in here recently. A supervisor's office, given the nameplate on the desk. He just hoped that this Jeneric Task supervised over something useful, and not, well, generic.

Given that the room was empty save for the one desk, Quin skimmed the walls for any sign of anything unusual. Nothing to be found. The ceiling, holding the light, was fully enclosed without even a vent. As a matter of fact, it did feel stuffy in here. Was it because of the air, though? He assumed it had to be.

He started rifling through a small stack he found on the desk, looking through the mix of flimsiplast and paper, searching for files with any reference to anything. Unfortunately, in the supervisor’s papers were mostly coffee and lifestyle mags with the occasional sign-in sign-out documents. If there was anything useful, it was likely in the computer. It made sense since it was more secure, and it sounded like even Master Mirror was having some trouble getting in.

Until she did, and something cut her off.

“What’s wrong?” She sounded off, too. And it made him nervous. His heartbeat sped up.

“Him?” Quin’s hand found the hilt of his lightsaber and he turned toward the entrance of the room.

@Die Shize

 

[Leh'Min'Ayd]

Spoiler: Music OOC

…Master…
Yes, Leh’Min?
He’s…here…
What? Who is?

A girl is frightened.
But no one knows it.
Can’t comprehend it.
Even the Lemon didn’t.

A fear that can fill a lake.
Deep within. Under skin.
Lurking. Bleeds. It drips.
As a bottle of lemonade.

A girl. A girl is a weapon.
A girl. A girl has emotion.
No. Wasn’t so senseless.
Isn’t empty. Didn't want it.

She never asked for this anyway.
If she did she’d have left the pain.
Rejected it. Told it to just go away.
Weapon. A girl. A girl has a name.

Leh’Min’Ayd

Ever based on this bed where it cradles her head.
In a base she’s given, no table, or other furniture.
Nothing else but the bed. A place. Yes. Her room.
Her bedroom. Her chamber. But it’s a prison too.

It’s a box. But, no, it’s not. It’s a circle. So. Round.
She’s been here before. Has no choice. It’s a void.
There’s no light. Only dark. Eyes closed. Not loud.
Can’t see. Can think. In silence. A girl has a voice.

...Look for…the lemonade…

Conscious. Unconscious. Subconscious. She is.
Whatever she is, she knows who she is, or what.
Always aware of where she comes from. Nothing.
Born an orphan. Made a killer. As a child. No One.

...Look for…the Leh’Min’Ayd…

She tells him. But can he listen? Can she reach Lin?
That was his name, wasn’t it? Yet a girl has a secret.
It hurts. Burns. It’s an urge. It’s worse. It was hidden.
Like her past. Like her master. She knows he is…Quin.

But this girl always liked the nickname she had given him.
Despite her problems with language, maybe, she loved it.
She was different. Knows it. Wasn't like other Padawans.
On her bed, she remembers him. He won’t be forgotten.

Lin…it…is…it...is…a…key…
Can you…even hear me?
Turn it…before it’s too late.
Use it, Lin! The lemonade!

“Tell me who’s here, Leh’Min’Ayd.”
Never Lemon. Always that name.
Master. He stands at the doorway.
Her chamber. Cannot see his face.

It wasn’t hidden. But there was too much darkness.
He wasn’t dark. He wasn’t light. Yet he is heartless.
He has no heart. He wasn’t kind. He had a dark pit.
Yet, he owned the weapon, he honed it, regardless.

“I said…tell me…who…is…here...”
She hears him but isn’t listenin’.
So he asks again with his hands.
He can scare her. Yes. Bring fear.

Lightning blast!
Lightning sings!
Bright! And fast!
Bite its lightning!

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”

Screams the Lemon!
It's a song! So long!

WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

RUN.

But she can’t!

FLY.

And she does!

Like a dragon.
Isn’t mindless.
Fly over floors.
Over corridors.

And she finds him!

“WHO. IS. HERE?"

“LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!”

I’M HERE. I’M HERE.
CLOSER. Come here.
Closer. You’re near.
A girl…feels…fear.

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri / @Lin Queonkri)

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Words. Curves. In her head. Such dread. All at once. And again. Over and over again. Caught off guard, yes, as the universe paused. As thoughts stopped. Yet, somehow, they spiral round, still spinning senselessly, like a merry-go-round. Like a carousel. They burn. Like fire. As Vayla Mirana…remembers.

Her eyes are off. Quin would see it. She was looking right at him. Seeing right through him. Her cybernetic oculars, her prosthetics, electric blue, like lightning trapped in a bottle. Is it so impossible? It’s a question that turns over and over again in her head. Round like a circle. Like…like the galaxy itself. Round and round.

Leh’Min’Ayd

Time was fluid, wasn’t it? So, even as only seconds pass as Vayla stands staring at Quin like an idiot, vision frozen and body motionless, she is trapped in an ocean. There are no waves in this sea. In those moments, seconds feel like minutes, minutes transform into hours, as the Shadow goes home, goes back in the past.

When she was blind.
And she couldn’t see.
Before being a Knight.
A Knight was nobody.

Go with him, he said. He would teach her. Show her the way. Train her. Make her understand the teachings and tenets and creeds and codes of the Jedi. Show her the light. Open her eyes. Literally. Metaphorically. Physically. Spiritually.

Oh, he did just so. Walk, he said. She did. Run, he said. She did. Vayla Mirana trained with weapons. Learned from words. She read and she fed. The Force gave her strength. It allowed this farmer from Pantora to learn the art of the blade until she became the blade.

A girl became a woman. A woman became a Jedi. A Jedi became a Knight. A Knight became a Shadow.

Yet, so frozen before Quin that moment, the Shadow became a ghost.

He’s here. She tells herself. Well, the voice does, in her head, there in the void, with her dread.
He’s close. It didn’t take a shadow to know it though. It didn't take much to think what's next.

She sensed his presence back in that private prison where the deaths had taken place. Where Sars Valt came to claim him. Again when she arrived on Sevenmoon. In Gravenell City. It was faint. It faded. Came and went away.

But it was back. It was so close. It wasn’t masked. Like he no longer wanted to keep hidden. Like…like he sensed her presence as well. Read her curved signature like a word, like a letter, like a number.

“...Master…”

Vayla whispered to Quin, and maybe it would sound ridiculous, because Master Mirror, while not a Master, was once something of a master to this kid.

“My master…Cyrus…Orion…”

Okay. So what? Why did that matter? Wasn’t that great? Finally, they could investigate his presence on this Grave, find out why he was allied with a corrupt corporate magnate like Sars Valt and his Valt Ventures corporation, and why they were affiliated with Spero Station.

Except…she couldn’t figure out why she was so afflicted…why her heart was like thunder in her chest… She sensed his presence…

Cyrus Orion…he was near…and for some reason, just as before, when she lost her sight, her eyes, when later she lost her master to a line between the light side and the dark side…she felt that same sensation she felt now…in a circle so round...and upside down...

Fear.

“He’s here, Quin. He’s close.”

The Shadow bit her lip, not trembling, but dreading that she might be, and a shadow never shakes, never quivers. She looked up. A ceiling. Above led to her escape, if she wanted to leave.

A Shadow does not return to the sun. A Shadow stays on the surface. Becomes the fire to burn the darkness.

She looked down at the floor. Doors opened in her mind. Closed. Closer. Bridges burned. Broken. A bird in a corridor. A little lemon. A weapon.

“He’s…near…he’s…below…”

A Shadow does not feel fear…

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

As the pair walked, Cheriss wondered how long they would have to remain one. She’d come here looking for potentially useful information for her, and Kayden’s, own experiments. Having Cul tag along to see everything she did could risk an outsider knowing their plans, and she would have to kill him or consider him another loose end. She debated whether or not she should strike him down now, given the lack of cameras and the fact that they had just taken down four guards with no one noticing.

Unless someone did know and was biding their time, but she could worry about that after she got what she wanted.

Fortunately, she was spared the decision since at the end of the hallway, Cheriss found herself drawn towards Cells rather than Labs. She wouldn’t understand a thing in the latter anyway, whereas in the former she had a chance of seeing the effects of the research for herself. Experimental and control. Cul went right for the left, and that left Cheriss the right.

“Potentially more information on your spice, too,” she added to the Pyke’s remark. “Enjoy your tour.” With that, Cheriss went right.

Walking down the hall, she was soon met with another corridor that led to another. Here the lights were off, but she could see a long hallway lined with an alternating pattern of glass and concrete. Upon closer inspection, behind the glass was a layer of metal bars, and the first cell she passed was some kind of bantha with two heads. Hm. She continued on her way, passing by a squirrel that clung to the wall like a spider and stared at her with eyes as red as her lightsaber.

She moved on to the section labeled “Sentients”. "Biohazard", a sign beneath it read. "AMS". Cheriss could see why. A Weequay was on all fours, prowling around its cell like a caged tiger. A Bothan simply stood and stared. Even when she waved a hand, its gaze passed right through her. A Rodian screamed, cried, and kicked at the bars when the Sith passed by, but she couldn’t hear a thing through the glass.

Then, Cheriss came by the section of “Hybrids”. Ah. This was what she’d come for. She moved forth.

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

So, the Sith had decided they should split up. The Pyke had long since realized once Cheriss made up her mind that was it. Furthermore, he had been weighing the same option and there was no point in an argument. The last thing he needed was for the darksider’s emotions to get the better of her; to trigger an explosion that would prematurely sever their…alliance.

“Right.”

Cul turned left, turned right, finalized their separation with a final comment before turning left again.

“Keep in comlink. Try not to die.”

There was violence behind his violet eyes, amusement in his metallic lips, but for the time being he needed her alive. Whether she actually chose to relay her discoveries his way was another story. At least they had the ability to communicate, integrated earpiece or otherwise.

Walking down the hall, he was soon met with another corridor that led to another. Here the lights were on, but dimly lit as previous hallways, and the lighting itself was different. Blue lights lined either side of sleek durasteel, polished to perfection, as if the janitors of this complex were convinced to pay extra attention to this section.

Janitor droids more like. That would make sense. Again, as he paced the hallway, Cul was reminded of the idea that fewer minds meant fewer risks. Why keep around meatbags when you could have scrapheads whose only concern was whether they’d short-circuit?

“Humph.” The Pyke harrumphed to himself, thinking on what kinds of encounters Cheriss the Champion might find in her own section. Likely the kinds of things to potentially tear her into pieces if she isn’t cautious.

Cul was. He navigated toward the laboratories but found his first quarry behind a side door that read “Security”. He didn’t need to open it. It opened for him as a man stepped out and faced the Pyke’s way.

“Oh. You know the labs have been closed for the moment? Did you forget your research or something?”

The question, and the man’s visage, indicated he believed he was treating with a researcher who had simply been permitted this far already.

“Yes.”

Their eyes met.

“Clearance?”

Cheriss would love him.

-CRACK!-

A Pyke didn’t need to be a Sith to know how to break bones. Cul’s fist found the man’s nose. His other fist found his throat. Before he could scream he could only choke. By then it was too late. Face broke, the Pyke grabbed him and threw him into the room. He moved in behind him. Snapped his neck like a cracked egg.

Tampered with this system, tinkered with that, some already not even operating. Meddled with this computer, fiddled with that. Perfect. Gripped success in his fist, along with an object, and closed the door behind him. Surveillance, as he expected, was not so sophisticated. Yet, that itself made sense if this section, no, if this level was, what, closing for some unknown reason?

We shall see. The end of the corridor ended with a door. No guards. No flesh. No droids. Above the door a sign: “Experimentation”. That was the closest translation anyway. Odd. Not in Basic. Perhaps the owner of this station had their own appreciation for amusement.

Cul’s keycard unlocked the door. No need to stand on ceremony. He opened it. And went in.

Labs lined either side of this hallway; chambers flanking Laaster as he paced ahead. There were windows. There were stations, tubes, equipment, stasis pods, tables, desks, the kinds of sights and scenes all too fitting for an operating theater. Or a work of horror.

It was, admittedly, quite pleasing to this Pyke’s eyes.

Only most of the rooms in this facility were empty—another nod to that security guard’s comment.

Not all of them. Cul stopped at one window, gazing past transparisteel at cages upon cages of monkeys, rats, rabbits and other beasts. No sentients or surgeons though, and they weren’t so lifeless. They dance. They thrash. They scream. But nobody is listening.

The Pyke moved on, hands clasped behind back as if he really was some tourist. Another chamber. Another window. Another specimen. A surgery bed with an inhabitant. Not so alive. Can’t be. Surely. Humanoid. Human? Maybe.

Hopefully, if they were living, they had a mountain’s amount of anesthetic given that they were missing their epidermis. It certainly looked like the surface of muscle of a Human missing their skin. Flayed. For what purpose? Most curious.

Another door opened. Cul Laaster calmly looked away from the window and down the hallway. A woman in a surgeon’s outfit did not spot him as he spied her. She was whistling tunelessly as she entered an adjacent chamber. Cul followed her.

He paused at the window, just as before, only this room had a lot more security. Its door was heavy. It had another door within it, a wall, a gate. A chamber within a chamber.

A desk on the other side of the window. Looked like someone had left an invitation to a birthday party maybe. An image of an insect on the front. Two words beneath: “Join us!”

When Cul looked up, he watched the doctor, whose back was turned and blocked the view ahead, slide open a small metal panel, and tap on what must have been a window. Though, Cul could not see what was on the other side, but he could read the sign above: 1997-Killik.

What. The. Kriff.

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Quin Leonkri]

There it was again in his head. Lemon’s voice, telling him to look for the lemonade… that it was a key. That he had to use it. Quin’s gaze fixed on the cup in Vayla’s hand.

I can hear you, Lemon. I’m on the way. Me and my master. Speaking of…

“Master—” One look at her and he cut himself off. Vayla looked tense too, more tense than he’d ever seen her before and arguably more tense than him. At the mention of her master, Quin felt a chill go down to his bone. What have we gotten ourselves involved in? He had a feeling he didn’t want to know the answer.

That was when he heard screaming in his head. Lemon’s screams. They sounded painful. No. Quin’s hands flew up to his temple, and he staggered backwards into the wall. It felt like someone had stabbed his head.

No, Lemon! NO! I’m COMING! Then he heard another scream. But this time, Quin felt his pain beginning to bubble into anger. It was like how he’d felt that day on Thila. Nothing but pure rage at whoever was hurting Lemon. He gritted his teeth, then turned to Vayla again.

“Master. She told me that we’re close. That we have to turn a key before it’s too late.” Quin pressed on, placing a hand on Vayla’s shoulder. He felt strangely calm now. “I think this is all connected, somehow. Lemon and Orion.” Like a circle, round and round…

“We have to go.” Quin met Vayla’s gaze, took a breath. “I’m with you, Vayla. Whatever happens.”

@Die Shize

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC

There were so few things in life, in existence, in this universe, that could ever turn Vayla Mirana’s lips so downward, that could cause her tremors beneath the surface of her skin, deeper and deeper into her heart, into her core. To upset her. To unnerve her. To burn her like the electrical fire in her very eyes. Even for a Jedi.

Whether that was the Sith, the wickedness in this galaxy not limited to Sith, or her master was another matter. Suddenly, however, nothing else mattered. Nobody else mattered. Not Master. Not Sith. Not Jedi. Not even Leh’Min’Ayd. No, at that moment, as Vay continued to gaze at his face, only one person mattered.

Quin…

“Quin!”

Whatever her own pain, it was his pain she felt. Like the eye of her pupil. This was her pupil. Her student. Her mirror if ever she was Master Mirror. Knight or otherwise. The only person in this universe who was closest to the son she never had.

And she had his back.

In a way, in some twisted way, it was his own pain, or the pain of his Leh’Min’Ayd, that made Vayla Mirana regain her strength. She needed it for what was ahead. For what awaited all of them.

Had to focus. Not on what was broken. On the moment. Had to own it. Had to be the light awoken.

No…I have to be the Shadow!

There she stands.
At the computer.
There he comes.
Hand on shoulder.

And Master Mirror mirrored his movement, placed a hand on his shoulder, met his gaze, eyes into eyes.

“Whatever happens, Quin…”

She bit her lip, remembered the lemonade in her grip, remembered the Leh’Min’Ayd.

A key…

“Wait…”

Could it be?

Gaze shifted just a bit. To the computer. To a cup holder on the desk. No. To a surface made to hold a bottle.

Because, simple as it was, ridiculous as it was, it wasn’t so impossible.

And she places the lemonade down.
And the computer opens somehow.
More than technometry would allow.
Images. Shapes. Circles. So. Round.

Fingers fly across keys. Data speaks.

“Quin…look at this…”

Experiments. Specimens.
AMS virus. Even...Killiks.

“...Hybrids..?”

And a door opens. Surveillance at her station.

“Jeneric Task. He’s back.”

He moves calmly past the Archives’ front entrance.
Doesn’t seem to notice something is amiss.

Quickly, Vayla!

“No time to download this…”

MOVE!

She does!

“But…wait…what’s this?”

-CLICK-

And a door opens.

“It’s a lift…”

But not near the front entrance.

“Quin…whatever happens…I won’t let this be a suicide mission…”

Taking a breath, Vayla’s eyes glow bright, open wide, not even blinking, fingers squeezing either shoulder, her frown turned upside down.

“We’re going to get her. We’re going save your Leh’Min’Ayd.”

And they move past the doorway to the office. They don’t look back as they step into an elevator. Vayla presses buttons, but where they’re going has no number, for theirs is a floor in between floors, a world below zero. Underground. Upside down.

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Try not to die. Those were the same words that Kayden had said to her as they parted ways. There was nothing to fear from these creatures behind bars and glass, though. Most looked half-dead. Not surprising considering the experimentation with AMS, but Cheriss had been hoping for something… more.

As for the comlink portion, she’d turn it on when she felt like it. That certainly wasn’t now, but she’d keep him posted if she saw anything she thought he might need to know.

“Need to know” was a subjective term.

As for the hybrids, Cheriss was initially disappointed. The first few cells she passed were entirely empty. Too empty, almost. The others at least had food and water systems built into the cell for its occupants, but these ones had nothing. Cheriss moved closer as she noticed something odd on one. A shimmer.

Though the metal bars did not look broken, there were hints of dents. On the glass, she saw the thinnest of cracks. Normally such a thing would not have concerned her, but considering these were meant to be blaster-proof, it was a little odd.

As she looked closer, however, she noticed that there were cracks on almost all the glass windows in this section. It was too dark to tell whether the bars were bent or dented, but in some cells they had been removed entirely.

“Cul?” Cheriss spoke into her comm. “I have something here.”

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Even as he watched seconds tick on in this realm of deranged science, moments tock on this galactic clock of crazed experiments, Cul Laaster was as curious as concerned.

Curious about the foundation, the history, the purpose, the potential, the results of all of it, all of it. Concerned over, not the ethics, never the ethics, but where his spice fit in.

Curious about ‘1997-Killik’. Concerned, not over the Killik (well, yes, it’s a kriffin’ Killik), but over…a memory. Yes. As he watched the back of that woman in a lab coat he couldn’t see past, who in turn watched glass, a window, that he couldn’t see through, Laaster…remembered.

When he first entered the Velusia system. Why he had come here to begin with. The signal, the makeshift message, that drew him in.

It was the disappearance of a ship. A vessel of privateers. A crew of Pykes. They weren’t his. He was only an associate. He knew the captain. He did not know him well. Captain Vor Akrim of the Black Kite.

His crew was…eliminated. No. More than that. Slaughtered. No. They had all but slaughtered each other in some kind of mutual ritual suicide. He discovered why. They were infected. Not by AMS.

Though, in the end, they were no less dead before they were dead. Because Killiks all but destroyed the mind, the personality, and made you their slaves. In the end, Vor Akrim was a shell of himself.

Cul glanced at the card on the desk.

Joined.

Only, despite witnessing the mess on the Black Kite, despite finding the aftermath of a Joining, he never actually expected to glimpse a Killik in this system of Velusia, on this world of Sevenmoon, in this city of Gravenell.

He just did.

Just as soon as the woman stepped aside toward a container, he glimpsed it.

I don’t believe it.

There, through the window, he saw it.

Killik.

Insect. Chitinous exoskeleton. Mandibles like tendrils. Skin brown as Cheriss Ktrame’s eyes. Bulbous eyes. Orange as a Duros’ eyes.

Eyes that were looking right into the Pyke’s.

Mind. Into. Mind.

But…no…that’s not what happened. It’s what Cul Laaster expected to happen that very moment. It’s what he suspected had already happened to the doctor. Infected. Joined. To this entire basement, perhaps, which may explain why it was apparently vacant, vacated.

Insane. What was? Not that the Pyke was driven insane by a Killik. That’s not what happened. Rather, that Cul Laaster wasn’t taken, and apparently neither was the doctor as she maneuvered, conscious, intelligent, given to her own ways, quite unlike Vor Akrim at the end of his days.

Cul, just as conscious, just as capable, looked over at the container fully opened, fully exposed. The doctor spoke. Not to herself, not to the Killik, to a subject, to a specimen, to a naked man. And Cul caught it. In the peripheral vision of his purple eyes. Not inside the chamber but outside. Right beside him. A button.

He pressed it. Suddenly he could hear. So he listened. He watched. He waited.

“Are you ready?” The doctor asked that man.

“I…what…where…please…what…” Answered that man.

“No? Maybe you need a minute. I am patient. Or should I say we? Ha. Back to sleep.” She closed the container and stepped back over to the window, datapad in hand.

By this point, so as not to be exposed, Laaster was hugging the wall beside the window, observing in the corridor, when the doctor turned around. She didn’t see him. She wanted to see if anyone was watching.

Then she leaned closer to the window in the chamber, with the creature behind it, with the alien. Tilted her head this way, that way, as if mirroring the Killik’s movements. Closer. So close Laaster wondered whether her lips were actually on what must have been some serious transparisteel, as if to kiss the glass, no, as if to kiss the alien on the other side of the window.

Then she jerked her head back. Laaster had heard a dull thud. Then a lighter tap as the woman bounced her index finger off the window as a mother wags her finger at a disobedient daughter. She said nothing, but her hand hovered over a button right beside her.

She pressed it.

There was a screech. It wasn’t from her. It was from the creature. What looked like smoke erupted in some kind of geyser. Swarmed over the alien. Just in its chamber. Lasted a few moments, like spanking a child, then the cold mist vanished. The Killik stepped closer. The doctor’s hand hovered. The Killik stepped back.

“So…we’re a faster learner…”

And he saw it. Beside the button that had erupted in the Killik’s punishment. Cul Laaster saw it. On a table. The believable. The unbelievable. In a container. Purple powder.

My. Spice.

“Cul? I have something here.”

“Same here.”

Cul promised her.

“You first.”

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Quin Leonkri]

Master and apprentice. Knight to knight. Eyes into eyes. Eyes were the key to the soul. The key…

Quin’s gaze, too, went to the computer. The cup holder. The bottle holder, and the lemonade cup in Vayla’s hand as she placed it down. Quin was at her side in a heartbeat when the computer turned on. He could see why these were secrets. They were staring into the Heart of Darkness itself. For once, he was speechless.

He didn’t even want to imagine how much those beings had suffered. Even… the Killik. He didn’t want to imagine Lemon’s screams again.

So secret, so safe. No secret could be kept for forever, though. Theirs risked being discovered when a door was opened by Jeneric Task. He heard a click. It was a separate door— one for a lift.

He met Vayla’s gaze again. She spoke of suicide missions, but all he needed was his Lemon. He’d do whatever it took to get her out, even…

Maybe it was best not to think about that. So he nodded. “Yes, Master.” He stepped into the lift with her, waited as it began to descend. Tick. Tock. Beyond nothing. Into the void.

The lift stopped, and the door opened with a barely audible whir. It was quiet here, even quieter than it had been in the archives. Neither cells nor labs, this place was labeled “storage”, much like what had been upstairs. On closer examination of the labels on the locked doors, though, Quin soon discovered that these were no ordinary storage units.

“Live Animals.” He moved to the next one. “Live Sentients.” A third. “Live Killiks.” Odd that they had their own category. And the last. “No label here.” He assumed that had to have something to do with hybrids, but it could be anything.

Anything could be anything in the world of upside down.

@Die Shize

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC

The Shadow is silent.
Whistling in the dark.
I am a shadow of light.
Eyes close. Won’t part.

In the elevator, thoughts swarm in her mind. Over her master. Over her companion. Over Quin. Over Leh’Min and lemons. That bitterness of existence. She remembered what she glimpsed on that computer. The images…twisted…experiments. For what infernal purpose?

A woman can only wonder. However, wasn’t it obvious? Why did such science like this exist to begin with? Why do we make monsters? What were the Sith? Self-created monsters birthed from the pit of darkness.

Yet she neither witnessed nor sensed the presence of Sith in Spero Station. This was different. These were the machinations of a different breed of wicked. For intelligence? To get more intelligent? Simply for curiosity?

A weapon…

Vayla had a weapon. Her lightsaber. With its blue light like sunlight. A sword of fire. Power bound by a blade. Tempered. Trained. Tailored to her tastes. Vay’s blade was not just a weapon. It was an extension of her faith.

Of a shadow…

Suicide mission or not, it would be a long walk from the entrance of this pit to its exit. That much the Knight could sense as she stepped into the darkness with her Jedi companion.

Animals. Sentients. Killiks. That definitely gave Vayla pause. On further inspection, however, it made sense why ‘Storage’ was separate from ‘Cells’ and ‘Labs’.

“Samples,” she pointed out to Quin, but just as much simply voicing her thoughts aloud. “Less like living specimens. More like extracts. Tissue samples. Photos. Videos. Documents. Etcetera” Going by the catalogs and the printed material that was.

Sighing, Vayla began to pace back and forth, thinking as much as observing one locked container after the other. She wanted to open them one by one. She didn’t want to open any of them. Not one.

“Killiks… Sentients… Animals…” Reads them further.
“AMS… Spice… Crystals…” Remembers a computer.

“Blacktear…” Sounded more like a codename on one unit listed beside ‘Rat’ and ‘Mouse’ and other rodents.

“Inhibitor chips…” Only that wasn’t listed. That was solely from her memory.

She’s simply trying to connect the dots now. To figure all of this out.

Think. Think, Vayla. What does all this mean? What are they doing?

“Leh’Min’Ayd… Blade… Lemonade… Rain… Maze… Pain… Fade… Vay...”

Probably sounded like she’s rambling crazily to Quin but, no, she isn’t.

Vayla Mirana is whistling in the dark between her mind and her heart.

“Quin…”

When you have a companion, you ask him for his opinion. Eyes into eyes.

"...If you had a facility like Spero Station at your fingertips, and you were the one controlling all of this…research…for what purpose would it be? How, in all of this light and dark universe, would you use it?”

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

Cheriss wasn’t surprised that Cul had found something interesting too, but it irked her that he hadn’t been the one to contact her first considering he had been the one who wanted to keep in touch. Oh well. She couldn’t have everything her way.

“They’ve done experiments on other animals. Not just rats.” The Pyke probably already knew that given their computer exploration, but this was a confirmation. “They have sentients too, with a variety of results. A few seem… aggressive, and some are so passive they don’t seem to notice anything.” Cheriss looked around the hybrid section, debating how much to tell him. Seeing as there wasn’t much here anyway, at least in this part of the corridor, she decided just to give him the general picture.

“I haven’t seen a hybrid yet. These cells are empty. Sterilized. Interesting thing is that some of the bars are dented. All the blaster-proof glass is cracked.” She paused, thinking of how to word what she wanted to say. “I believe that this is evidence of unusual strength or potential Force-sensitivity.” She hoped not— that would mean that whoever was running Spero Station was closer to achieving their goal than she and Kayden were. If they found out what the Sith were planning…

Cheriss looked around again, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. Seeing that she had not, she left it to Cul. “You?” She began to make her way further down the hall.

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

So, Cheriss had discovered the Hybrids. That made sense given her area of exploration was the Cells, only Cul did wonder whether they would be located here to begin with.

Were there other levels? Floors beneath floors beneath floors? One could dig so deep in a moon like this without having to worry too much about what they uncovered.

Cul remembered the conversation with those scientists when the Pyke and the Sith had first arrived in the station. They spoke of mountains. Caves. Lattices. Crystals. Spice. Force. Killks. Joiners.

How deep was the web? To what length did it stretch? That was its own lattice. These were the connections.

Cracked blaster-proof glass. Dented bars. None of that necessarily meant Force-sensitive. A kriffing rancor could have managed it. These Hybrids, whatever they were, had their strength enhanced. The same happened with subjects of AMS. Only different. Not the same vein. So, maybe, Force-sensitive Hybrids was more than theory.

Cheriss talked. Cul listened. Cul watched the actual doctor watch the actual Killik, taking notes on her datapad.

While the Pyke forever had reservations about the trustworthiness of his ‘partner’, he realized that they could have ended up exploring the same sections together anyway, so on his end he decided not to hold back.

He would fret over dissemination of information later, especially in the event that a snake like him ends up driving a knife through the throat of a serpent like her.

“Can confirm similar observations we made on that computer. As I speak, I am staring into a laboratory chamber whose doctor is observing a live Killik.” He barely delayed in letting Cheriss digest this. “It is…docile… No. It is imprisoned. And knows it. Doctor irritated it. It responded with anger. Doctor punished Killik. Impressive...”

He allowed room for Cheriss to respond but, in truth, wanted to take another second to watch in quiet before continuing on.

“Another live subject in a container. An adult male Twi’lek. Unsure of purpose. There is another container. It holds my spice. Just as unsure of how it works into this picture. But I wonder…spice, hybrids, Killiks, virus… Most impressive... What, Cheriss, would a Sith like you use all these experiments for?”

Oh, how a Pyke wished he was that doctor in that chamber, and he was the one conducting the experiments.

But I'm a drug dealer, not a doctor.

He had to make a decision to go in or not. To check out his jar of dirt, that naked man, to risk his presence in the proximity of the Killik, or move on.

What other treasure was left for him to discover?

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Quin Leonkri]

Quin was almost glad that these doors were locked and that they weren’t as easily accessible as some of the other rooms they’d passed. He had a feeling that if he entered them, opened the boxes in there, what he found would make him sick.

Right now, all he had was his imagination to torment him. He didn’t need any more than that.

The horror. The horror.

Vayla pointed out that the storage rooms likely contained samples. Parts of living things, rather than whole. Quin didn’t know if that was worse or better. So he nodded, following his master as she looked over the names of the containers left outside the rooms.

Though he couldn’t hear everything as Vayla muttered to herself, he could understand what she was asking him. What if he was the owner of Spero Station?

His first reaction was to say he would destroy it. Of course. This was evil, nothing more. But that wouldn’t be helpful— foolish, rather. All this knowledge at his fingertips. He could do things. Change things. Make things what he wanted them to be.

You can’t change other people. But what if you could? Those things he’d seen on the computer… they weren’t natural. Normal beings didn’t act like that. Implemented on a larger scale, changing minds could change the galaxy. Whoever did so could bring peace. Or war.

But the question was what would he do, not what someone do.

“I would… probably try to keep it to myself.” He answered honestly. “I don’t think this is right, Master. I wouldn’t use it. If anything, cure a disease, or something. Otherwise, I’d destroy it. It’s just… not… right.”

It wasn’t a helpful answer, but he didn’t know what else he could say.

@Die Shize

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Vayla did not respond to her former Padawan straight away. She breathed, deeply but easily, as if absorbing each word into her, letting each expression enter her mind so she could digest it.

Why? She might ask herself why she asked Quin the question to begin with. What was she searching for? What answer was she expecting?

She breathed in. She breathed out. She looked at him. Gave him every ounce of energy of her attention.

And smiled into his eyes with her eyes that served as mirrors.

“That is a good answer…Pad.” Lips spread into a grin, fist on shoulder, but it’s a press in comradeship, not a punch. “The correct answer.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. But this time it’s a sigh. One of exhaustion, not in body, not even in spirit maybe, but perhaps in mind. So much wickedness. So much indifference. So much evil and cruelty in the galaxy. Why?

Well, it of course didn’t take a Jedi to realize why. There was the light side. There was the dark side. There was the birth of stars and the explosion of suns. The galaxy was violent even without the violence. But…this? Science like this opened up a whole other plane of existence. A perversion of existence. An abomination of life.

Doors. Drawers. Containers. Storage units. Windowless. If she wants to see, she can’t peek. Have to open.

There she is. There she stands. At the edge, on the line, in the in between, facing a circle so round, the upside down.

You’ve seen these in the computer. AMS. Killik. Crystals. Spice. You’ve encountered the chip already. Feet step, fingers feel the cold metal of one unit after the other, searching, feeling, sensing. Rats. Rabbits. SS0. AMS.

However, some boxes are not meant to be opened. Perhaps like the one that said 'Nemesis'.

They already opened it the moment they created this bloody station, Vayla Mirana. All of them did.

“However…what if I were to ask you that same question…and you were to answer, not as Quin Leonkri, not as a Jedi Knight, but as a scientist? As one of these scientists? Perhaps even as a Sith?”

Whatever his answer, out loud or in his mind, Mirana moved on, the Mirror tried to make up her mind.

“I, like you, would rather destroy this research no matter its power. Power corrupts. You start out with a good heart but it eats you. Only the shell remains. These scientists are shells. Husks. Mortals playing gods. For what purpose? If I was the chief scientist, if I was a Sith, if I was the corporate executive funding and sponsoring all of…this…and my experiments were not just for intellect…”

Chips. Killiks. Viruses. Spices.

“I would create…”

Lightsabers.

“...Weapons.”

Hybrids.

“Chaos, Quin. Chaos is the answer.”

Unit. Move it. Do it. Open it.

She does.

Blacktear.

She bypassed the lock and opened the box.

No specimen anyway and no live life-sized subject. No creature cage.
An image. Waves. A face. An eyepatch. Black as black. Like some hole.
An image of a man. A…Tiefling..? Beside units for rats and other rodents.
Beneath, the name, ‘Blacktear’, and numbers, letters, how high or how old.

Name: Blacktear
Sex: Male
Race: Unknown
Purpose: Project Chaos
Components: Spero-1 Compound | Force
Notes: High Researcher's Entry - Full description - Restricted - Summarized: Subject shows promising potential. Potentially greater than Nemesis, more powerful than Hybrids while more intelligent, but concern over independence; ensure the eyepatch is not lifted; he doesn't like it.

Chaos...

"Chaos isn’t a pit. Not for the likes of evil scientists. Not for the likes of Sith. No, Quin... Chaos is a weapon. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, they cling to the realm or religion or love. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is. For those who laugh at pain. Who laugh at fear.”

She showed him Project Chaos. She showed him Blacktear. So she showed him nothing. But she showed him everything. From Blacktear to Nemesis to AMS virus to Killiks. Monsters. Abominations.

"Weapons, Quin. They are making weapons."

Breathe in. Breathe out. Eyes into eyes.

"And we are going to put an end to it."

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri)

 

[Cheriss Ktrame]

A Killik. Alive, no less, and punished? That implied that it could be trained. Impossible as it sounded, given her firsthand experience with those things, these scientists had managed to do it. From what it sounded like from Cul, they were far, far ahead of where she was.

That would soon change. I should have gone to labs. She didn’t trust Cul enough to believe that he was telling her everything.

An adult twi’lek in a container, though? She figured it would have to do with that spice container Cul mentioned was beside him. That was similar enough to what Sawin was doing, but it was likely far more sophisticated here. She wished she had all of this. Once today was over, she wanted it. She would get it.

Cul asked her what she would do with it. That brought a smile to her lips. If he thought she was going to tell him over the phone, or tell him at all, he was mistaken. Even Kayden didn’t know what she really wanted.

“That’s a secret, love.” It wasn't wealth. Nor was it power. Granted, those two things were good to have, and she would never refuse them. What she wanted was independence. To be beholden to nobody. To be an observer in the galaxy rather than a pawn. To influence when she wanted. To step back when she wanted.

Really, people were terrible and she wanted to watch them being terrible. She wanted to watch things burn. And to know that the fire would never reach her, no matter how close she stepped.

“Whatever you want, Cul…” Cheriss paused. “I do hope it is not at my expense.” For your sake.

Amidst her stroll in the hall, she stopped in front of a room. “Training”, it was labeled. The door was locked, but a little bit of electricity on the control panel opened it easily enough. Inside was dark, but she could see that it was mostly an open room except for the weapons racks next to her. Blasters, swords, spears, even what looked like training lightsabers of all types were clean, labeled, and ready for use. Maybe a little too clean. The metal almost sparkled, as if... She picked up a familiar-looking sword, tested it. It was exactly like the one the Yautkan had used. Beskar. Interesting.

“They have a combat training room,” she relayed to Cul. “And beskar weapons.” She wondered who, exactly, was being trained. The hybrids, perhaps. And who was providing the training. Beskar weapons were not just everyday vibroswords.

Games and riddles…

@Die Shize

 

[Cul Laaster]

Spoiler: Music OOC

Well, if Cheriss didn’t trust Cul, it definitely wasn’t a mistake to make. Whatever he sincerely relayed over his earpiece comlink, he kept his secrets too. There was, most truly, a game to be played and he could relate.

“That’s a secret, love.”

“Ha. As is mine. We are of the same mind. Of one voice. Just, thankfully, not Joined.”

One had to find amusement in all of this nonsense. Cheriss did. It didn’t take a Pyke to know that a woman like that didn’t love anyone, and certainly not Cul Laaster.

Whose answer to his own question was easy and, since he isn’t an idiot and knows he is dealing with a Sith, surely similar to Cheriss’. What did a Sith want? Power. What did a Pyke want? Power. And profit.

And so. Much. More.

The strength and the means to restore his people to the rightful place in this galaxy. To replace the Hutts at every corner. To make slaves of the slugs and eliminate anyone and anything who gets in their way.

To restore his family name, the House of Laaster, to be one remembered, never forgotten, and feared and respected. To bring them back from their hell and to their wealth. To remind the galaxy of why the Pykes existed to begin with.

That they were greater than Vor Akrim, Tysjor Maspat, Cul Laaster and any other lethal if individual Pyke. But, together, combined, the Pykes were like serpents swarming the pit, hoarding the riches.

Yet, all that said, what might Cul Laaster do with a facility like Spero Station? Use it to pave the way for his own glory, his own name, not Laaster, but Cul, and just like that.

Why?

Because he was Pyke.

“Whatever you want, Cul… I do hope it is not at my expense.”

“The expense isn’t worth your life, Cheriss. Don’t fret.”

Not yet.

In the end, Cul decided against entering the chamber. He just didn’t know enough about that Killik. Perhaps the doctor was Joined, in some manner. Perhaps she had some serum, some injection, some anti-Joiner. But he wasn’t enough an idiot to test the theory despite his curiosity.

Time to move, Pyke.

He did.

Without being seen, moving like a scientist, hands clasped behind back, quick if patient.

“They have a combat training room, and beskar weapons.”

“Training room… Interesting… Beskar weapons… Mandalorian iron is not cheap or easy to come by.”

He was stating the obvious. More agreeing with it.

“Yet I believe, whatever you see, however many weapons in whatever variety…”

He trailed off. Maybe she speaks, thinking he was finished, but maybe he isn’t listening, because he sees.

Another chamber. Another doctor. Another creature. Another cage with security, naturally, given what was caged.

“...They aren’t the weapons actually being trained.”

There, a lot more docile than the Killik given that it was laying flat on its back on a giant bed, and as tall as a Herglic, was a monster unlike the other. At least the Killik was actually a species. What Cul Laaster sees…isn’t a species he has ever seen.

One could usually tell the difference. Even if this ‘thing’ was something new, it was obvious that it was not. Some kind of mutant. Its flesh was stitched. Its skin was stretched. It barely had any around its mouth. Baring its teeth. It was impressive, truly, and no less curious.

Particularly with its black leather outfit.

Most impressive.

“No, Cheriss, I have a feeling that the real weapons are the subjects, the AMS victims, the Killiks, and anything that results from the experiments, like the Hybrids.”

Like this.

He didn’t need to be Force-sensitive to sense that she was thinking the same thing.

“Spero Station isn’t a research facility…it’s a factory. A factory to create weapons.”

@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)

 

[Quin Leonkri]

Quin smiled when Master Mirror told him it was the correct answer. Even gave him a shoulder bump for it. Even if he’d felt the power of the dark side before, maybe even used it, he would never turn to it. Never. He would have to remember that today. Especially given the evil they were going to be facing.

Vayla asked the question again. What would he do if he were a scientist? As a Sith?

His mind immediately jumped to that man. The man in that pristine, snow-white armor. Kayden. What would he want? The only thing he could imagine was what Master Mirror said next.

Chaos. There had been much chaos that day. If the whole galaxy mirrored that… As Vayla flipped through the pictures, he could barely stand to look. We have to stop this. This Project Chaos.

There was one picture that caught his interest, however. A familiar shade of purple.

“Wait. Could I…?” With Master Mirror’s permission, he took the picture from her and looked at it closely. Oh. It was unmistakable. Lemon… She looked so hurt. So empty. Not at all the bubbly Togruta he knew.

On the bottom of the photo was a small typed note. Project Nemesis, it read. His heart dropped. It was happening to Lemon. It was really happening.

no. No. NO. NOOO!!!!!

Without thinking, Quin crumpled it into his fist. He dropped it to the ground. He stared at Vayla, her face in sharp focus but blurred at the same time. Switching back and forth as his focus shifted.

“Why?” His voice broke. “Why does it have to be her?” His master breathed in. Breathed out. Eyes into eyes. Hers, blue and electric, were all that kept him sane.

“We have to,” said Quin. He swallowed. He couldn’t believe it. The same Lemon who was searching for a title with him. The same one who wanted to return a girl’s music box. The one who rode a bear. The one who had gone back for him in that factory. Who had fought Sith with him. The horror.

“We have to stop it.”

@Die Shize

 

[Vayla Mirana]

Spoiler: Music OOC

She had to do it. In the end, that’s what she told herself. That she couldn’t have told him. That he had to see for himself. That Quin Leonkri had to see his Leh’Min’Ayd, not as a dream, not as a memory, but as a possibility, however chaotic in reality it may be.

That she may be a weapon.

Vayla saw it upon opening the box. This box. That box.
Blacktear. Lemonade. Project Chaos. Project Nemesis.

One of those discoveries was easier to blurt from her lips. The other one wasn’t. She couldn’t do it. He had to see it. Quin had to glimpse it with his own eyes, hear the echo with his own ears, and feel it.

Trials. Tribulations. No Jedi was spared them. Padawan. Knight. Light. Shadow. It is what made them Jedi. It’s why they were Jedi.

Why we fight.

“I’m sorry…Quin-Quin.”

Because he wasn’t just Quin. No more than she was just Vayla. He was, in a very real way, her mirror and she was his. Just as she mentioned once upon a time at the onset of all this nonsense. Vayla was the past. Quin was the future. Together, they were the present.

Together, we will end this.

Hand on Quin’s shoulder. Wanted to just hug him. To pull him. To hold him.

Emotion, yet peace.

She didn’t speak it. Didn’t communicate it telepathically. There was no need.

Peace, yet emotion.

“I don’t know to what extent, I don’t know for what purpose, how or when or why, even what kind of weapon, but sense, reach, within. See it. Hear it. Leh’Min’Ayd is alive. Living. Not dead. Not undead. Not a weapon just yet..."

Hand on shoulder, holding it, gripping it, squeezing. Other hand on his chest, as if feeling his heart, comforting it. Eyes into eyes. Burning. But let it not be hot, let it be warm, reassuring.

“Search your feelings, Quin. You know it to be true.”

He said they had to stop it. Vay nodded. Looked side to side. Gave him a moment to process everything as she stepped away.

Another computer.

“There’s a corridor outside this door. It junctions left and right toward…Labs…Cells…wait…there’s a chamber in between both…in the center…strange…the name...”

She looked up.
Blood pumped.

Not Lemonade.
Or Leh’Min’Ayd.

“...In Between…”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Let’s go. Now.”

In…Out…
In between.
Circle. Round.
Upside. Down.

@Sicadorito (@Quin Leonkri)