Chapter XI - Revelation
(part I)

"I want you to know the truth Val, I want you to understand why it is that you fail..."
~Quillion~






VC Deception - Revelation
 

INTRODUCTION
 

“I’ve seen the future, and you’re not in it…”

These words were uttered by a soul possessed with anger, hate, and rage…with vengeance.

Vengeance unleashed upon the Puppetmaster, ruling and weaving Val’s present and future under this meticulous, sadistic wills and desires. He knew the demon’s face now…

And his name…

    But Quillion wished only one to know his true face. The face that bore four distinct gashes along his cheek, where years ago his prized possession turned and inflicted the wounds upon him…scarring him for all eternity. Cire etched the image of terror within his most formidable enemy, his most despised foe.

Yes, Cire T’Negun had lived, by some measure of fate. He had ripped victory from death’s hand, torn its grip over his soul from its clammy possession and took back his fate into his own bloody palms.

Palms stained with the blood of his Master, and his object of desire…blood that would never come clean, and never be forgotten…Cire had murdered Gen Zeridian, there was no chance of survival, no deception, no hidden tactics…no empty grave…

Here in the present, Cire made his presence felt with only a glance…his dark eyes bore into Val’s soul, etching the smug smirk across his gray bearded lips into his very psyche. For Val the shock was overpowering and unbelievable…so unbelievable was not only the fact that the one he had long brought a sense of closure to, had shattered the doors of conclusion inside his mind off its hinges revealing the truth that Val now had to accept…some how, some way, his quest for vengeance was unfulfilled as long as Cire lived within his world.

Added to the trauma, the third rate student had bested his “teacher”. Val had no way to prepare for his opponents fighting strategy, on both a physical and mental level.

The menacing scarab droids inflicted his body with their toxins while Val was trapped in a frozen moment of time where his present, his past, and his future seemed to meld into one single point…if just for a moment, doubt now gripped him and he did fall.

Quillion, Cire, Puppetmaster…no matter which identity he was referred as, the ghost from the past dealt a fatal blow to his instructor’s pride, his emotions, and his sanity. Now at last, as with in the forest so many years ago, Cire had Val subdued and captured…at his mercy.

Oh the feeling of contentment raced through Cire’s veins as he sat upon his throne. The twin fire bits below him blazing columns of fire, dancing seductively as he gazed within them…he had listened, and he had triumphed…something his men, his sister, even his own apprentices failed to comprehend.

But…

Cire cannot claim the victory as his own…No another sinister force has aided him from the beginning. The voice had spoken to him, minutes after Val had flung his body through the hole in the wall during the epic battle within the Dark Jedi Academy Council Room…the voice had warned him of his fate, and demanded that at that very moment, at that instant to dedicate his life to its purpose…to its desires. In return it taught to him the skills of illusion…of misdirection.

The voice of reason, the guiding whisper did not utter to Cire alone…

The voice fueled Krevlin’s bloodlust, and his jealousy to the boiling point that it drove a man to commit the most appalling actions upon an innocent family…

Genocide…

The voice bid Krevlin to heed its desires and in return it shared secrets with him, it saved him from one assassin attempt after another…it gave to him the gift to know the future, but it demanded undying loyalty in return…once that loyalty was broken, so to was its instrument of destruction.

Once this voice was defied, it withdrew its protection from its host…This is exactly what befell the fate of Admiral Krevlin, but not by Val’s hand…by its new chosen host…

Cire T’Negun…

But why would this voice wish to bring about the annihilation of a family heritage? What crime could have been committed that was so severe that the price paid must be in blood, solitude, and an eternity of torment?

What is “The Curse” what is this voice?

The Curse has a name…and it has an origin…

It is this “Curse” that has led Val to fall to the feeble skills of Cire T’Negun. It was well known that Cire at his best could never defeat Valaryc Winters within the halls of the Dark Jedi Academy, but the voice…the wicked entity bestowed upon its new host…Cire, a gift that allowed him to achieve things he could only dream of…thus his thirst for power drew The Curse to him like a moth to a flame…

There was something else that drew its presence though…a link between the two; the chain so strong that the voice knew its new host would obey its commands with unquestioned loyalty…

Unlike Krevlin, Cire craved everything he was denied, intelligence, respect, power, wealth, reputation…he wanted men to fear his very name, and women to tremble at his feet.

The Curse gave him this…for it was not he, whom this guiding conscience wished to unleash its fury upon…

The Curse gave to Cire everything he desired, like a guardian it provided every tool he needed to acquire his wealth and prestige. From ships, to overthrowing The Obsidian Order, its direct involvement gave its host all he desired…and for this, Cire grew dependent upon its advice, its words…it’s influence like a drug.

This is why Cire’s master plan was unleashed upon Val not a moment sooner. The Curse had thought for its host, it had seen certain events and had warned Cire of the outcome. It had provided for Cire through Ras Krueger, through Krevlin…it gave him a new identity, a second chance in his lifetime.

Gone was “Cire T’Negun” born was “Quillion”…

Quillion, in its native text means “fearsome”, perfectly fitting to Cire’s desire…to be feared and respected. In time, The Curse aided Cire through the ranks, from lowly unknown solider to leader of his own race of assassins…and in all this, his identity was NEVER once compromised…

Val sensed nothing…he expected nothing…and that was his downfall…

The unexpected…

The Curse wanted only one man, but with his death by its first host’s hand it set its sights on the descendent of the former member of the Jedi Council…a man who, for the love of his wife and the fear for her safety against the forces of darkness…a man given a vision of events to come, defied everything he had attained by the Jedi’s hand and set in motion a series of events that would be passed on from one generation to the next…

It was Russel Versai, Val’s father that originated The Curse upon the Versai generation…because of one choice, one single event…the Versai were damned for eternity….

Now his last surviving male heir, Valaryc Winters Versai has inherited his curse, and must either learn how to break it…or find that the next child he may bring into the world, will have no less torment then himself, possibly no parents, no siblings…no friends…nothing.

So now it is that we come to the present…where a battered and bruised legend has been stripped of his most prized possessions, left to rot within the darkness of a prison cell…or so it may seem for Quillion listens to the voice that gives him his uncanny intelligence, his unnatural combat skills…and it demands that an ancient hex reach its final stages, for the “master plan” was now closer to its completion. With Isis no longer a threat and Val stripped of his pride, his weapons, his equipment, and his allies…the time now came for The Curse to use its host to inflict the most punishing, sadistic, act of cruelty beyond that of any form of interrogation, an all out invasion…

Mental…
Physical…
Emotional…

It is now Cire’s finest hour, he holds the power over Val’s fate and The Curse demands that the descendent of Russel Versai suffer for the sins of the father…before its prophecy is fulfilled and the last of the Versai are extinguished for all time…

But…

As fate has it, and destiny would unveil…not even a force beyond the reach of death can control its wishes, for no plan was absolutely perfect and The Curse, and its host would come to learn that with every degree of conception, deception, and meticulous strategy…there was also room for….

Revelation…
 

VC Deception – Chapter XI - Revelation
 

~FLASHBACK SEQUENCE~
 

EXTERIOR: DARK JEDI ACADEMY – FOREST

The scene opens upon the vast, smoldering regions of the once beautiful and glamorous forest that surrounds the infamous Dark Jedi Academy…but gone are the splendors of nature, in their wake lies hazy patches of billowing smoke from a battle long past…its effects already having laid waste to the peaceful existence of the inhabitants within its proximity.

No longer were there blazing lightsaber blades whirling a path of death and destruction in their wake, or the cries of death echoing throughout a thunderous salvo of blaster bolts and shattering splinters of wood and debris…no longer was there conflict…

The scene shifts closer to reveal a single, etched tombstone. Upon the roughened surface scribed into the primitive surface these words are written.

GEN ZERIDIAN
HERE LIES THE MISTRESS OF THESE GROUNDS
FOR LOVE SHE WAS TAKEN, FOR LOVE SHE WILL BE AVENGED…
GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN…
“ETERNAL LOVE…FOREVER BOUND”

The words beamed from the stone as a beacon to all those who might some day pass by it, etched into the stone by her fiancé, Valaryc Winters. After the melee, after the carnage her single partner had written each letter with anger filled strokes, carving not only each letter deep into the surface of the solid stone tribute, but into his soul as well…for these words were never forgotten.

Gone was the pain now…only vengeance had remained for the creator of the makeshift shrine to Gen’s name, Val would go on to avenge his slain lover and crush all who were involved in the conspiracy of her death…or so he was led to believe. But here in this flashback, a new picture unfolds.

From the trees swirling around the single tombstone pressed into the grassy earth of Endor’s moon voices whisper, originating from the surrounding trees. The leaves rustle and quiver from the fierce winds sweeping along the area as some are cast into the air and strewn about, while small rocks are ripped from their grounds and scattered off by the increasing wind. In all the chaotic display the stone remains unmoved as deep, dark clouds gather overhead.

The storm continues to build as the clouds swirl about the heavens, choking out Endor’s sun from view surrounding the area in darkness. Then suddenly a bolt, purple bolt of lightning emerges from the sky and streaks down like a screaming hawk into the stone tablet of Gen’s grave.

Seconds later, the voices begin to chant throughout the bustling trees

VOICES – All is not as you have perceived…All is not as they have perceived…All will come to pass, all will be revealed…await the revelation!

The voices have no decipherable race but their tones are mixed with anger, weeping, laughter, and sadistic undertones growing louder and louder as the picture we see begins to swirl in circles around the illuminated tombstone, glowing a vibrant white from the bolt of lighting striking its surface, as more bolts of lighting slam into the trees around exploding them to splinters and flaming debris, tumbling them like dominoes around the site…the bolts of lighting begin to turn a vibrant blue hue…the same hue found in Cire T’Negun’s famous “shard lighting”. That was it now! The shard lighting was shattering the trees like glass but now its direction had shifted to the grave itself, slicing into the smoothed over earth as rain began to thump into the dirt, causing the material to meld into a deep brown sludge, rolling down the hillside in puddles of mud, but the color of the rain is not clear…

It is blood…

From the thundering red pools, as quickly as it all had begun the rain, the lightning, and the winds suddenly stop as the echoing of a heartbeat echoes through the forest…

Thump…thump…thump…

The scene moves along to the area below the tombstone rising like a skyscraper above the blood-drenched grave. Without warning a hand suddenly rips through the ground to the surface, it is withered and degraded but upon the its finger, the ring that was placed upon its finger shimmers in a band of gold and a string of diamonds and vibrant purple amethysts…

VOICE – AWAIT THE REVELATION!!!
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI MANSION – BEDROOM

Val suddenly tears the covers off of his body, flinging them to the floor as he awakens in a cold sweat, trembling from the nightmare echoing inside his psyche. His gaze shifts along to the rain peddling the surface of the massive windows to his bedroom…A storm has developed upon Alpha Xeridia.

For a moment Val is completely confused, recalling that the last image in his mind was Quillion’s helmet off and Cire T’Negun’s eyes glaring into his own and yet for some odd reason he was now directly back inside his Versai Mansion with no evidence of damage or intrusion. He can see that nothing is out of place, not even his pictures of Gen sitting across the room upon a desktop. Lighting flashes across the sky and illuminates the room in a dazzling display of blue and white hues as his eyes adjust to the darkness washing over his bedroom once more…

Was it all a dream? Was everything some sort of dream???

Val’s eyes blinked in confusion as he tried to make sense of the nightmare and the clearly massive flaw in continuity from his last memories. Where was The Killian Throne Room? Where was Quillion? Isis? Corrie? How did he get back into his mansion? Why is there no damage? Why was the ring on Gen’s finger when he didn’t bury it with her?

His answer came from a soft moan lying alongside him. The moan was female…

Slowly Val’s fingers crept over the figure laying beside him, wrapping about the black silk sheets covering it, to slowly reveal a strand of purple hair…then another…then a hint of pink, and another strand of purple leading like a river to its possessor. Without warning Val ripped off the covers and gazed in disbelief as he saw the figure stir and open its eyes…

It was Gen Zeridian…

She was nude, clawing for the covers to shelter her rounded figure from the bitter cold of the storm raging outside as her dazzling purple orbs slowly adjusted to the one who took her security away.

GEN – (eyes blinking) Hon….hon…honey? Why did you just do that? It’s COLD IN HERE!

Val’s eyes blink as his body freezes in place, darting from Gen’s naked features to the room around him, perfect in every detail to his true perception of his Master Bedroom except for the element of impossibility within his bed…But there she was, living and breathing and shivering from head to toe…

Gen was alive…

Val’s lips quivered in shock as Gen slide her fingers along his neck, drawing him closer to her body, letting the heat from her figure and the smooth tones of her voice sooth his altered state.

GEN – Val? Love? Are you ok? What is wrong with you? Talk to me…

VAL – G..G…G….Gen? But….but how…how is this…I don’t understand…you’re dead…

Gen’s eyes widen a moment as she adjusts the covers around her body, taking them from Val’s clutching hands, warming both of them under the blanket of black silk, gently caressing the spine of his body, tracing the curve of his spine with her delicate fingertips.

GEN – Dead? What do you mean dead? Val, dear…you’re starting to worry me…

VAL – (murmurs along Gen’s shoulder) I watched you die…How can we be here…how is this possible? I can’t believe that…

GEN – (raises an eyebrow, drawing Val back) Would you prefer me dead?

VAL – NO!

Gen’s eyes roam the body of her lover as she slinks away from the bed and stands to her full height, the curves of her backside re-igniting the passion and desire Val had found in her exquisite geography the first time she revealed herself to his touch and both their mutual desires. Val arched out his fingertips and caressed Gen’s smooth, firm backside. His lips quivered in disbelief but he could physically touch her silky smooth globes, delving along the base of her back as Gen stood still, glancing over her shoulder to her Loved One.

GEN – (smiles)Real enough for you my husband? I know that after we married you sure as hell took no restraint in expressing your carnal desires upon it before.

Val’s fingers slowly traced along Gen’s sides as he moved to stand behind her, finding that he too was completely naked, rubbing around her navel to cup her breasts between his splayed fingers, finding that there was nothing synthetic about those features either, having to stand back a bit to make room for his apparent arousal, despite his confusion over the events of the past…Each second, each touch along her silhouette seemed to discredit his belief in what is real and what was fantasy.

Gen slowly moved her pelvis back along his arousal to tease her husband, before slinking along his embrace upon her rounded glories to face his widened eyes, planting a long, lust filled kiss upon her lover’s lips. Each sensation of her lips dancing along his own made Val melt under her touch, finding himself weak in the knees pushed by Gen’s weight back on to the bed, her full voluptuous figure now straddling atop him as her vibrant purple locks draped along his chest and ribs.

VAL – But how…How can you?

Gen slowly brought her hand up into Val’s view, as the ring he had fashioned for her lay shimmering along her finger, her lips drawing away from his own to stare him with her radiant pools of violet.

GEN – (grins seductivly) I own you mister…

Gen flashes her wedding ring as she sets it next to Val’s laying on his finger. His eyes widen now as the turn of events seem to completely discredit everything he has come to believe as real. Yet a part of him that has longed to hold his lover for over 25 years lets go, quickly grasping Gen’s straddling body in his powerful embrace kissing her over and over again, Val’s fingers roaming over Gen’s firm rear, squeezing the desired flesh, up to her back grinding her breasts into his chest as he gives in to his desire, over and over again. Gen’s moans increasing a bit as she adjusts herself to allow him full access into her, letting her hair cascade along his dominating form, allowing her husband to do as he will, freely and with much heated desire.

Val’s mind races with a split range of imagery like a shattered mirror with several distinct fractures, from Cire’s words to facing him as Quillion on one side and Isis being stuck down by 8D8, to the other side of the circular composition, of his first kiss with Gen in the forest, to his first sexual encounter with her inside her quarters, ribs taped and aching but disregarded. Here he was now, moving Gen in different positions to fill her with his heated desires, his lust building from so many years of loss and acceptance unleashed upon his vixen, whether it was real or not anymore Val didn’t care as he ravished his sexy kitten, who all but encouraged him to do so and more in all of her sacred wells.

Soon the moment had passed, and Gen lay spent and satisfied by his side. Val’s eyes glanced up at the ceiling while one hand lay caressing Gen’s luke-warm body close to his own, while the other lay in his view staring at the golden band around his finger…trapped between logic and desire.

GEN – Oh Tiger, That was amazing…It was as intense as the first time we played together. My body is just Ooo tingling from head to toe…and you’re mine….all of you.

Suddenly Gen starts to fade away, the darkness of the room surrounding her, yanking her from Val’s possession as she struggles to hold on to him, the darkness spreading around her like claws as she clings to her lover with all her strength. The massive windows flare open and increasing, high paced winds add to the aggravation. Gen’s fingertips slowly starting to slip from Val’s panicked struggle to hold on to her…but with the increase of winds, Gen is hurled through the window out into the cold night air screaming in terror, as Val clings to the bedpost, lifted off of it following after, but as he flies towards the window, it shuts casting him through a hail of shattering glass as he can just barely make out Gen’s body fading into the stormy skyline of Alpha Xeridia.

A voice echoes, cold and heartless to him.

“SINS OF THE FATHER…”

As the voices echo, Val finds himself teleporting from place to place. First on his journey he finds himself standing within a graceful and elegant palace similar to the one found on Theed. His eyes roaming over from behind a set of bushes to two figures caught in a vicious battle, while he steps further into the picture plane to see a third figure laid out on the ground, stumbling to her feet…she bares a striking match to his mother, Kathryn Versai…her eyes narrowed to emerald slits, clearly injured from some attack that had occurred previous to his arrival.

Val’s eyes spot the image of his father, Russel Versai battling a woman he has never seen before. She defends Russel’s forest green lightsaber with an ancient looking weapon, which Val can almost directly identify as the same sword that Quillion used to attack him…a Sith Sword.

The woman was older then Kathryn, but she was a fighter from head to toe. Dressed in all black, she had a recognizable tattoo that matches the Killian insignia along her face, where two crimson red eyes beamed from within it. Her sword clashed and clanged with Russel’s emerald fury, parrying and lunging to both defend and hopefully dispatch an assassination attempt on his wife and unborn son.

Val narrowed his eyes to focus on the woman’s full details but was only able to make out that she was dressed in a red and black, flowing robe, under was a jet black tunic, which from the looks of the flaming red designs upon it looked like some sort of outfit a sorcerer would don. The hood was drawn up over her head as she moved from left to right, finding her slicing advances towards Russel diverted. His skill was as unmatched as Val, and yet against this woman she held more power then she let on.

Suddenly the image of her advances in time in a blur as she is now shown missing one of her arms, advancing hastily towards Russel Versai, whom has a devastating slash across his thigh, back turned…only seconds in time he drops Kathryn to the floor and ignites his lightsaber into the approaching threat, through the assassin’s chest, piercing her liver region.

A move in which there was no recovery…

The image he sees now seems to fast-forward yet again, he is now no longer a presence within the grounds, all he sees is an image of the woman’s lips uttering to another out of sight.

"YOU WILL KNOW LOVE NO LONGER! YOU WILL KNOW PAIN! SUFFERING BEYOND YOUR WILDEST INTERPETIONS!"

But who was the woman Val thought to himself. Who was this stranger, this assassin who meant to bring upon his mother and father, death and destruction. He begins to notice a direct parallel between the battle scene and ones of his own…Val begins to see the connections weaving through his dreamscape journey.

SINS OF THE FATHER…

The scene shifts to show the younger Val leaving the room, as the door slides shut and Krevlin’ frantically struggles to free himself from the pinned dagger in his arm, suddenly seeing that some unseen force has yanked the weapon from the wall. Val’s eyes widen in confusion, as the seconds count down. Clearly Krevlin did not withdraw the dagger under his own power and he knew nothing of The Force, so the question remained of what force was aiding the sadistic Admiral.

Val’s eyes narrow in anger as he tightens his hand into a tightly balled fist, boiling with rage that another force would dare disrupt his perfectly planned strategy of Krevlin’s demise…then he realizes a factor not noticed before…his plan was perfect…

Krevlin should have died…but something saved him, but why?

Krevlin stares in horror as the seconds on the bomb tick down to 00.02, before suddenly being flung from the wall, into his desk, which topples over, ripped from its heavy foundations like a tin toy over his body, seconds before the bomb detonates and explodes the room into a deadly array of hellfire and scorching debris.

VAL – NO WAY! WHAT YODA’S GREEN TOED NAME IS GOING ON HERE?

A voice echoes to Krevlin, as Val can hear it whispering…

VOICE – You have served me well Admiral…your time has not yet come to expire…gather your things, and flee…you no longer have a place in this existence…Obey your savior and leave.

Krevlin’s body under the desk remains motionless, but the words are met with a startling reply.

KREVLIN – Yes, yes you told me he would come…I have served you well, you’ve given me great power and wealth…I will obey you, I am your servant.

Val blinks in utter confusion, hearing the voice, which has no distinction among any he has heard before, dark and twisted…a tone that could be associated with male or female. Whatever the voice was these images in his dreamscape were trying to tell him something, show him something that he had not considered before…

Val is then shifted away as the familiar phrase repeats...

SINS OF THE FATHER…YOU WILL SUFFER FOR THE SINS OF THE FATHER…

Val’s eyes focus upon a face to face encounter of Gen before him, shortly before she screams in terror as Cire stabs her from behind, her words eerily utter the same phrase in her own voice, clearly not a fact of his encounter with her death, it was starting to form a connection…

Quickly her image is masked over by Isis Surul, before 8D8 runs her through, once again the same phrase utters, flashing to Crymson Vachon and he dueling atop the Versai Mansion as rain thunders and pours overhead, both her pink lightsaber and Val’s golden yellow blades contacting, Crymson leads closer whispering to Val...

“SINS OF THE MOTHER…”

Suddenly Val is propelled head first into the blazing inferno of his final showdown with Cire T’Negun, as Gen’s body lies limp in the arms of his younger counterpart…watching history play through but no longer a participant but a observer…and what he observes he could not have possible discovered within the battle but now no longer forced to play through it, his vision unveils a dark room, the very same room he threw Cire T’Negun into, shortly before his final apparent demise…What he hears now is an image he could never be able to know on his own accord, whatever force was warning or controlling his nightmares wanted him to know more of the truth, for what purpose was not yet revealed.

Cire T’Negun prepares to leap back through the hole in the wall, as fire covers the entrance, taking no fear in surely catching fire, but before he can leap he is cut short by a voice beckoning to him…

VOICE – CIRE T’NEGUN…I sense your hatred…don’t be foolish. Listen to me…

CIRE – (blinks) WHAT? I have no time for voices right now; I’m in the middle of a friggin battle right now! Go away!

VOICE – CIRE, IF YOU LEAP THROUGH AND ATTACK, YOU WILL FAIL….Listen to me, I have seen the future…I know your fate, but this does not have to be…

CIRE – Oh give me a break…LEAVE ME ALONE, I HAVE A RUNT TO SQUASH!

VOICE – Heed my words, if you fight Versai on your own…you will die…or…

Cire nears the hole, judging the distance to leap through it, as the voice continues to preach to him, the very same voice that guided Krevlin before Val attempted to strike him down as well.

VOICE – You can listen to my words and achieve a greater victory then your selfish desires crave…I have aided many in my quest to finish a vow…I wish you to be my vessel, I wish to give you power and strength beyond your wildest dreams.

CIRE – (growls) I’m listening…

Before Val can learn more of the voice’s guidance to Cire, obviously the secret to his clever deception of remaining alive for all these years Val is yanked from the scene, plunged into darkness…finding himself standing alone, as dark clouds of smoke and fog billow around him. In a panoramic 360-degree view he can see these images playing like an endless loop around him…

Gen’s throat being severed…
Krevlin’s body being saved…
Cire T’Negun’s body engulfed in flames…
Russel Versai’s hands ending Vachon’s life…
Vachon’ lips uttering her curse…
Russel falling to a ring of blaster fire
Kathryn clutching Sara in her arms, sending her to safety in a pod seconds before her life is ended by Krevlin’s point blank blaster bolt shot piercing her skull.
Quillion removing his mask to reveal Cire…
Malcolm’s ship exploding into flames…
Devon’s dead corpse upon the café table…

VAL – WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN! WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS TORTURE! WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME!

The voices echo each phrase, one after another...

SINS OF YOUR FATHER...
SINS OF YOUR MOTHER...
EMBRACE YOUR REVELATION...
FOR THE SINS OF THE FATHER, YOU WILL SUFFER ETERNAL...

VAL – (growls, clutching his head) STOP THE RIDDLES! I’M TIRED OF THE GAMES! GIVE ME THE ANSWERS! QUIT ANSWERING A QUESTION WITH A QUESTION!

Suddenly the images fade away, and the voices cut off abruptly…from the shadows, Val can see the mists spiraling around a lone figure, draped in a red and black robe pacing into view, the face is blanketed by the darkness of its raised hood, and its voice is deep and cold…

VOICE – All that you see…is the result of my intervention.

VAL –TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO KNOW!

VOICE – The truth lies within you…within your father…his sin, is your own.

VAL – I don’t understand…what do you mean? I hardly knew my father…

VOICE – His sin…his actions are your own, you pay…for the sins of the father, deceit of the mother.

Val blinks a moment trying to decipher the images and the words the figure utters to him, starting to slowly see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place…

VAL – Sins of my father? Who suffers for them? Just me?

VOICE – No…you suffer for the sins of the father…but others pay for them.

VAL – Others? Who? Isis? Gen?

VOICE – Await the revelation…and understand it well.

VAL – NO! Answer me! You say others pay for them, is it Gen and Isis?

VOICE – No, it is a greater whole…others pay through you…others will continue to suffer, others will die through you…

VAL – Who are you…

The voice cackles from the shadows at Val’s question, replying in a subtle, smooth tone.

VOICE – I am your Curse. I am their deliverer…their savior. I know the future before it occurs there is nothing you can do to prevent your fate…or your destiny. I am the reason for your failure and I will continue to see that you fail, you suffer, and you pay for the sins of your family.

VAL – I wasn’t even born yet! Why must I suffer for my parent’s mistakes?

VOICE – You are the son of their sin, you inherited their curse…

VAL – WHAT WRONG COULD HAVE BEEN COMMITED TO WARRANT SUCH A PUNISHMENT!

VOICE – You will learn that in time…in time, I will have my revenge and you will finally fall with the rest of your bloodline…you and your sister.

VAL – My sister….wait a minute, then is she’s not dead?

Before Val can attain the full answers he craves, he’s abruptly ripped from the darkness into the pale orange hues of another room, as the picture comes into focus he can see the blurred features of Cire T’Negun’s aged gaze catch his own. The first sensation Val can detect is that his arms and legs are bound to a padded and yet also cold steel surface. The strain on his arms and legs is enough to plunge him back into reality…the true reality he knows as truth…
 

~END OF FLASHBACK SEQUENCE~
 

INTERIOR: KILLIAN CITADEL – THRONE ROOM

CIRE – Wakey Wakey…I wanted you fully conscious for the plans I have in store for you Teacher.

VAL – Huh..wha? Where am I…what is…this…I

CIRE – That toxin must have taken more out of you then I thought, but of course I know how high your endurance is Val, you never cease to amaze me as to the durability of your body’s potentials.

I’m glad to see that you’ve decided to wake from your beauty sleep and join the rest of us in my wonderful lil Throne Room. I’ve even gone to great lengths to decorate just for you…

Cire steps away from Val as he grins with carnal glee at his creation. Val cannot see the strange device he’s been placed in, but he can only feel his position upon it. The chair is specially designed by Quillion and his Killian technologies to invade the victim on three separate forms of torture, enough to bring the captive to the brink of death, without crossing the line.

The first of the three torturous effects is the ability to send volts of electricity ripping into the back of the victim, through electrical nodes which lie behind the insulated fabric over the back, thighs, and behind the stretched arms. While these electrocute the victim in the “X” formation, the second form of torture is direct muscle, over-stimulation. As the victim is prodded with a separate line of electrical nodes, these send direct, electrical impulses into various muscles in the captive’s body, causing the muscles to tighten and fill with lactic acid…the result is the pain you would feel if you attempted to overexert yourself in exercise, that sore feeling you have aching through your body when you run to fast, too quickly, or stretch too long…but unlike your bodies ability to recover, the chair keeps the victim in a suspended period of excruciating pain.

The final form of torture from the special chair unit was sadistically original to Quillion and his menacing, barbaric design. Through various studies on a body’s tolerance levels, he invented four box like devices that run upon a special track, which suspends the moving units just beyond touching the arms and legs of the captive soul. When implemented and snapped into position, each box moves in a series of clicks along the track, with each movement, at every 2-click interval, a series of four razor sharp blades at a forty-five degree angle quickly slices into the skin of its captive, then slide back into the units. The result of the slices on the first revolution is minimal, causing the victim to suffer four lacerations, which draw lines of blood along the surface of their skin. As the repetitions continue and the lines of crimson begin to increase, a weakening in strength soon seeps from the victim, whom starts to bleed at a steady stream, causing the body to react in a fragile manner. The amount of wounds from three passes, would leave twenty-fresh slices on the victims body, given that the four slices take place simultaneously at different points of the captive’s flesh, the ability for the body to heal each triggered injury begins to slow as its direction is split in many directions, causing each area to have to be addressed, where blood must clot and slow, but with the slices increasing the body is overwhelmed by the assault which, if not properly controlled would cause the victim to bleed to death.

Cire depended upon this measure as his last tactic to make his captive suffer for all the humiliation that Val had caused him in the past, to inflict the maximum amount of pain and torture without actually allowing his play toy to die. It was a sick and twisted plan with a small twist. With Val at his full mercy, thanks to the warnings and clever revelations of the voice that he obeys…he now added his own touch to the agonizing event to come…a menacing game…

Truth or Consequences.

CIRE – Comfy…cozy? Do you like the chair Val? I had it made especially for you. I’d say it makes a rather nice fit.

VAL – (growls) I’d like to fit the bottom of my boot right up your…

CIRE – OH NO! THEY’LL BE NONE OF THAT!

Cire glances to his right, gesturing for a figure in the darkness to touch a dial. As the figure does as instructed, a small but intense flash of electricity flickers through Val’s veins, enough for him to cut short his quip and scrunch his eyes.

Cire paces away from Val slowly spinning around on one heel, flashing his trademark smirk as he thrusts his arms in the air, glancing all around him. Val recognizes this as his usual practice before making a long-winded speech about how smart and powerful he is, blah, blah, blah….his hands trying to find any weaknesses in his host’s chair.

CIRE – Oh it was so simple then…wasn’t it Val? You and I dancing in the darkness, blades whizzing back and forth slicing and clashing like two warriors. The look on your face was simply priceless! When you saw me remove that mask! Why I do believe the look of shock on your distraught face was the same as when I killed your Master!

VAL – (grumbles) You made your point…you beat me…what you going to do now? Talk me to death?

CIRE – (spins around) Oh…funny how you put that…in a manner of speaking, that is exactly what I plan to do. I did so much miss these little speeches we used to have. Oh there was the forest when I stole your locket, then there was the moment after I killed Gen, oh yes and what was it you told me just before I whooped your tail across my throne room?

VAL – Uh…let me think, oh yes, you’re an idiot?

Cire scowls a bit, adjusting his robe before pacing face to face with Val, glancing to the darkness again to a figure standing there. Val notices that whomever it was working the controls must have been very reliable because Cire was no longer strutting around in his mask trying to maintain his persona of “Quillion” though he remained in the same silver and black robbed attire, right down to a blood red Killian insignia across his back.

CIRE – Oh no no, it was “I’ve seen the future and you’re not in it.” HAH! Shows what you know…if you’ve seen the future, then this must be another nightmare right? Oh yes where I’m dead and your at home washing your coat, playing pattycake with Gen whose’s still alive and well.

Cire gestures towards the figure in the darkness again, this time a flicker of torches behind it reveal the contours of a female, as slender fingers turn up the electrical dial once more, but this time instead of gradual it’s turned to almost the maximum setting for a agonizing second, as Val reacts by shrieking and tightening every muscle in his body, before the sensations cease.

CIRE – WELCOME TO REALITY VAL! WELCOME TO YOUR LIVING NIGHTMARE…

VAL – (pants) What did you…do…to me…

CIRE – Oh that chair your in has little surprises built especially for you, and while you’re my guest I insist you leave your force skills at the door as you can tell by my pet sitting to your right…I believe they are called ysalamiri, while I cannot use the force in their presence…neither can you. I have no need to use such methods when flesh and steel will aid my needs quite nicely.

VAL – Enough talk…there’s obviously some reason you haven’t killed me by now so get to the point.

CIRE – That’s what I love about you Val…you’re so direct. Indeed I do have plans because you see I figure that now that I have you right where I want you, I can finally defeat you on all levels before I kill you…I’ve already broken your spirit…in time I will break you on other levels…

VAL – What levels…

CIRE –We’re going to play a little game…and it involves three levels of play before its conclusion. If you can manage to survive to the last, I guarantee that the answers you have wanted to discover will all be revealed and a little surprise of my own as well.

Cire walks alongside Val and strokes his hair, then grabs a handful, jerking Val’s eyes to stare directly into his own shimmering blue orbs.

CIRE – I want you to know the truth Val, I want you to understand why it is that you fail at everything you do and why…I want to relish in the look on your face when you learn exactly how wrong you are in your believes in the events of the past…from my apparent death to your attack on Krevlin…I want to bathe in your agony as your sense of accomplishment is whittled away…piece by piece.

VAL – It would take more then you have to ever get one shred of grief from me.

CIRE – Oh I know, that’s why I’ll start with my enlisted friend over here…

Cire walks over to the woman helming the controls to the menacing chair, as Val’s eyes track his movements, all the while testing the durability of the devices that secure him to the cold steel structure for weakness.

CIRE – I want you to meet the newest recruit in our little game of Truth or Consequences Val. I believe you already know her quite well and I assure you that over the last few days we’ve gotten rather acquainted with one another.

The figure steps from the shadows. The female is dressed in the typical Killian attire, from the gray gloves to the matching gray boots and cowl. The hood is not drawn up over her head and there in the dim lightings, flickering is a collar around its neck, little red lights blinking from the underside as Cire leads it by the hand into Val’s full view…

CIRE – Say hello to the nice man my dear…

The figure is revealed through her long brown cowlicks and deep brown eyes as Corerilla Dublon, but she is acting far from her usual cocky self. In this reality she merely nods to Val with a dazed look in her eyes as if she does not even recognize him, slowly speaking in a monotonous tone.

CORRIE – Hello Sir…

Cire smiles broadly as he watches the reaction spread along Val’s eyes…already seeing his plans beginning to work.

VAL – CORRIE! Corrie it’s me Val! Don’t you remember me?

CIRE – She can’t hear you Val…at least not in the manner you would prefer it. You see the collar around her neck is the newest thing in mind control technologies. It works like a drug, as the subject fights its subliminal effects, a nasty electrical charge runs through her spine…not enough to kill but enough to weaken any individuals will to putty in my hands…

The more the subject stops fighting the collar’s invasions, the more the tension releases, and in turn the more susceptible the subject is to direction. You might call her a puppet with no strings.

VAL – You…you MONSTER! LET HER GO NOW!

CIRE – (snickers) Show Val your hand Corerilla dear…

Corrie lifts her hand up so that Val can see that on her wrist, there is a freshly branded Killian insignia, showing that like it or not her loyalty has been decided as Val growls in anger, lashing out at Cire, a reaction that is music to his ears.

CIRE – Corrie is mine now…You have no one here to save you Val. Nowhere you can go just you, me, that brain of yours, and that chair.

VAL – WHEN I GET OUT OF THIS CHAIR I’M GOING TO!!!

CIRE – Corerilla dearest, educate the man.

Corrie returns to her station and turns up the electrocution dial to a medium setting as Val’s body recoils in utter agony, Cire watching as Val’s lips cry out in waves, letting a good five seconds pass before signaling Corrie to release the pressure.

CIRE – Don’t cross the boss…that is rule one of my order. You are in MY HOUSE. YOU CAME INTO MY HOUSE VAL! YOU WANTED IN SO BAD THAT YOU KILLED TO GET IN HERE SO TAKE A SEAT AND ENJOY THE SHOW!

Cire motions to Corrie again, who engages the dial once more, as Val cries out in agony, trying to absorb the shock but without the force to guide his endurance he finds it hard to adapt to the energy flow that consistently shifts its frequency. Again he signals Corrie to step forward, but this time the dial is still turned and Val is still feeling the effects of the electricity…

CIRE – Tell Mr. Versai who your master is Corrie…

CORRIE – I am your servant Quillion Sir…I live to serve The Killian and your needs…

CIRE – Tell him who he is to you!

CORRIE – (glares towards Val) You are my enemy, you must pay for your sins…your sins against my master Quillion.

CIRE – What will you do to him if he hurts me Corrie?

CORRIE – IF HE HURTS YOU I WILL KILL HIM! NO ONE TOUCHES THE MASTER!

CIRE – Excellent my dear…now be a good girl and go back to your consul.

Corrie slaps Val across the face, neglecting the pain of the slight tinge of electricity that flows along her wrist as she walks back towards her consul and turns off the charges, riddling through Val’s body.

Val’s eyes narrow to slits as he glares to Cire, absorbing the pain throughout his body with deep, cleansing breaths, the sting of Corrie’s slap still fresh on his cheek.

CIRE – You see Val there is nothing you have that I cannot possess…even Gen. When I took her life away I took it from your grasp…you’ve lived because I’ve allowed it all these years. So then does that lead us to the rules of the game…

Cire leans up close to Val’s ear and whispers to him...

CIRE - Is everyone in there listening? Good…

VAL – (growls) When this is over Cire, you better kill me…because if you do not…I will not miss.

CIRE – (laughs) Oh yes, the Versai bravado…You forget that I am in control at the moment, you are under my power not your own. You will play my game because you have no choice in the matter…much like the duel for your precious locket…you are bound by my rules…

VAL – And…you…broke…them.

CIRE – (raises an eyebrow) Yes, but times were different then…I was different….Impulsive, ignorant…and anxious. All I cared about was possessing Gen and in the end I had to give that up for a greater cause…and all of this, all of the planning all of the meticulous details have drawn up to this one moment…….

VAL – What moment…

CIRE – Valaryc Versai, its time to play this is your REAL life…During the course of setting your happy little world of everything fitting into its place askew, I will ask you a questions at my choosing, if you answer correctly you’ll have the right to ask me a question in return, if you answer incorrectly…and you WILL answer incorrectly, you’ll have to deal with the consequence…

VAL – Oh goodie…gee I wonder what that is, oh I know! A shock in the pants?

CIRE – (grins sadistically) Oh much more then that…you’ll find out as each round progresses. There are three levels of play you see…Mental, Physical, and Emotional…The first of which you’ve already had a small taste of.

VAL – Ah, I see you’ve had nothing else to do but sit on your throne and plan all this out…really, while I was building empires you’ve been planning a career in game show design! Who’d have thought it!

Cire glares towards Corrie as she turns the dial again, causing Val to suffer a intense degree of electrocution ripping through his body at the medium to high setting, as Cire stands in front of him crossing his arms across his chest, waiting for Val to take the matter more seriously…

CIRE – Are you finished or shall I just let you quiver like a wet fish until you’ve simmered down?

VAL – Fi……FI……FINE………STOP IT…..STOP.

Cire motions to Corrie to stop the flow of juice into the chair, smiling happily that the almighty Val practically begged him to cease the agony, delighting in his temporary submission, no matter how small it would be for the moment. Cire’s hand clasps across his back like an Imperial soldier as he thinks to himself how he wishes to start with his sadistic game.

CIRE – We’ll start with something simple…Who are your parents…

VAL – (smirks) The Wookie and the green midget from Degaboth.

CIRE – (snickers) I’ll let you have that one as a freebie…now tell me, who are your parents…seriously.

VAL – Kathryn and Russel Versai…

CIRE – Excellent….oh I forgot to mention that the level of difficulty in the questions will increase as the rounds go on.

VAL – Well duh…

CIRE – Corrie?

Corrie flicks the switch to the electrical impulses once more, but only momentarily as Val’s shocked back into his position and the realization that no matter how primitive and pathetic this game seems, it does warrant consequences he may not be able to endure as the difficulty increases, with this thought in mind he drops his sarcastic outlook and listens with a more open mind.

CIRE – What did your parents do?

Val – They were spies…

CIRE – Oh I’m sorry you didn’t answer the question in full, I’m afraid that’s a consequence…

Val braces for the impact as the electricity once again flares through his body, then ceases, glaring to Cire as he protests.

VAL – THEY WERE SPIES DAMN IT!

CIRE – NO! YOUR MOTHER WAS A SPY…YOUR FATHER WAS A JEDI KNIGHT!

VAL – (growls) Same difference…

CIRE – Is it?

Corrie engages the electricity again, but this time she activates a very small increment of the muscle impulses, causing the two combined assaults to inflict even more damage upon her victim. This proves most effective as Val shouts just a touch higher in tone then before, fingers curling into tighter balls.

CIRE – Now where was I? Oh yes…Let’s start with the good Admiral, then we’ll move on to our little feud in the academy, round out with Ras Krueger, Crymson, and take a slight swerve to the ol Versai parents and stop off at the final leg of our journey in good ol Val’s sad, depressing life…and that person we’ll keep secret for the time being.

VAL – Lovely…

CIRE – Well let’s see, ah yes the good Admiral. Well you see I’m guessing that by now your nightmares have shown you that Krevlin used his desk to survive your explosive stunt. I know this because your mind is no more difficult to invade then any other being I know. So this leads me to my first question…Where is Krevlin now?

VAL – (blinks) That was quick…Umm I don’t know, smacking his lil captain to the best porn the Empire can offer?

CIRE – (grins) Humorous answer Val…but also incorrect.

Corrie slides her fingers along the dials of the machine as sparks of blue light circle and lash along Val’s skin, frying him to the core, while the muscle stimulators begin to cause more spasms to fire off through his upper forearms.

CIRE – Survey says! Admiral Krevlin is taking a nice nap in your mansion as we speak. Oh yes you see you didn’t kill Krevlin, I had to finish the job and in great fashion too, because for all these years with my so called remains in your den, you never once allowed yourself to believe the possibility of my survival.

VAL – You killed him did you? I assume that based on your mimic of remains, you burned him in the same manner as I burned you, letting me believe that you truly were no longer alive and this is most likely the reason you had the element of surprise to guide you and score a victory over me…Am I wrong?

CIRE – Oh no, absolutely correct…I couldn’t have phrased it better myself. Very impressive deductive reasoning and do you know why I killed him?

VAL – I’m not going to answer that when you clearly know I haven’t a clue.

CIRE – Smart boy, you’ll evade consequence on this one. Admiral Krevlin grew too overconfident and impatient, you see the voice, that is your “Curse” decided that he was no longer of use to it. After I escaped the academy, I paid the Admiral a visit…He insisted that I show him where your darling lover was slain and we entered the dusty, toasty Council Room, just prior to your assassination attempt upon his life a couple weeks later.

VAL – The voice…you know of it then?

CIRE – That is correct, it is my guiding light boy. I follow the voice like a moth to the flame; because of it I have everything that I’ve wanted, that people like you have denied me. Admiral Krevlin reneged on our deal we made concerning Gen’s death and my payment. In fact the overconfident moron thought it was funny to try and blackmail me by exposing my survival!

VAL – Krevlin was never much in the brains department Cire. That’s why he listened to this voice before it chose you didn’t he? Is this voice the one that led him to commit genocide on the Versai Family?

CIRE – You are a quick one Val. That is correct. Did you honestly think that a man like Admiral Krevlin could commit these acts on his own accord? Hell he couldn’t even defeat your father in a duel for your Mother, let alone organize a slaughter of an entire family!

VAL – I see you’ve done your homework Cire…But seriously, I have to wonder about a guy who spends his time obsessing over examining more men then women….you might be a little…one sided?

CIRE – (scowls) Shut up…I’ll get to the women soon enough.

CIRE – So where was I, oh yes! I burned that bastard right where you thought I perished in that deadly fire of yours. If it wasn’t for you turning your back, you might have noticed that there were no bones there before Krevlin’s demise…and that leads me to question two…Why were there no bones?

VAL – (thinks for a moment) I watched you burn Cire, you can’t lie to me I watched your body flare into flames, I MADE SURE OF IT!

CIRE – BUZZZZZZ WRONG! What was it the previous owner of your lightsaber once said? Oh yes! I remember, “Your eyes can deceive you…don’t trust them.” I find history quite fitting these days.

Another salvo of electricity rips through Val’s body, while the lactic acid builds within his lower thighs, causing a throbbing, steady sensation, this time its not cut off as Cire continues to speak.

CIRE – Does it hurt Val? Do you want the pain to stop? Beg me to stop it and I will…

VAL – (grinds his teeth) NEEEEEEEVER!!!!!

CIRE – OH goodie, I had hoped you would say that…

Cire turns to Corrie, nodding to her slowly as he speaks to her.

CIRE – Adjust the settings to level 3…and leave them.

Val’s lips curl as he absorbs the pain best that he can without the force to aid him, finding that in the measure of pain he allows Cire to gloat, getting more and more of the answers he seeks.

CIRE – Now, getting back to Krevlin…he’s dead. Next on the agenda is our little feud. Ah yes, we were so young back then, fighting for power and over a woman…she liked you, she kicked me, eh it was a love hate relationship…I loved her and hated you. But oh the irony in it all is that in the end, I took Gen from you and you ended up with nothing but loneliness and pain…sitting in your little Mansion for five years, rotting in your own self-pity. You should thank me for putting the spice back in your life Val! You were becoming so dull! I even sent you a playmate!

VAL – (grinds his teeth) Efface…

CIRE – Exactly, I mean I knew you would dispatch with the swoop gang and I figured that offing your good buddy Malcolm would ruffle your feathers, but you battling Efface was absolutely glorious! You showed that you still had what it took to go toe to toe with the great ones, and come out on top. Then there was your darling sister. To tell you the truth Val, at the time I didn’t know who she was, I thought she was just Ras’s spoiled brat.

VAL – Then you don’t have all the answers either do you?

CIRE – No, that’s why were here, you have information I want to know. I have information you are dying to know and I’m sure you’d kill for to attain, in fact you already have…

VAL – That’s not going to work anymore…

CIRE – Oh I know that all too well, so much of your father in you…that’s why you suffer for his sins. But we’ll get to that momentarily. Right now lets focus back on the feud between us. Do you know what our feud reminds me of?

VAL – I don’t know a broken jaw?

CIRE – Incorrect…..

Val’s body is leveled with another increased wattage from the muscle nodes and the electrical impulses, flared enough to set his inner organs on fire, screaming out at the top of his lungs as the pain subsides only slightly.

CIRE – Answer me, you know the right answer…you don’t have to suffer, you choose to.

VAL – (growls) Russel, Krevlin, and Kathryn…

CIRE – See! I knew you could do it! Yes! And like them, Krevlin slaughtered your mother after he could no longer have her…History repeated itself from your lover Gen, to your mother Kathryn. Isn’t that just spooky! But lets expand upon this information Val. If Krevlin did not die by your hand and neither did I then what do you suppose was responsible for your failures?

VAL – The voice….you both slave to.

CIRE – In a manner of speaking yes, but while Krevlin served it, I worship it, while he reluctantly listened to its guidance; I bathe myself in its wisdom. It knows so much about you, it’s told me things that you yourself are not even aware of.

VAL – What is The Curse…

CIRE – You wish to know what it is? No one can be told what The Curse is because it is not a thing, it is a being, no one can understand how it operates, no servant can question its source…that is unless they are special to it. Of all the servants The Curse has encountered, I am the first to hold a special significance to its desires. You see The Curse wields a face…it has a name, the reason I am the strongest of its disciples is because I know exactly who it is.

VAL – Who is it! I must know the truth!

CIRE – (smiles) Oh you’ll know the truth Val, because it wants you to know the truth, but in return your going to bleed for the answers you wish, as I did, as Krevlin did. What The Curse gives you comes with a cost…are you ready to bleed for your answers Teacher? Will you sacrifice your body to know the truth?

VAL – (thinks for a moment) It’s a trick question Cire, I’m not that dense…the answer is that I can’t be given a choice, you have me bound to this damn chair and I have no way to escape from it at the present time, therefore the answer isn’t mine to give…its yours and I know how sick you are, so get it over with and bring on the pain, as I told you before when this is over and done you have better kill me, because next time we clash I will not miss…

CIRE – (grins) If you live that long…

Cire stands to his feet and stretches his back, pacing over to Corrie as he whispers into her ear, slowly striding back to Val, who’s eyes latch on to him with intense hatred like a hawk eyeing its prey, Val tries desperately for some way to escape the chair, just so he can get his hands around Cire’ throat and choke his last breath from him, what he begins to notice is that Corrie is now moving along him, affixing boxes into place as a odd looking track raises from under the regions of the chair.

VAL – Corrie, come on Corrie snap out of it! Get me out of here, you can fight him!

CORRIE – (slaps Val) SILENCE FOOL! I WILL NEVER BETRAY MY MASTER!

VAL – Come on Corrie, that collar does nothing for your appearance, lose the jewelry and help me kick his butt back to Coruscaunt!

Corrie ignores Val’s words, moving down to his legs, locking the last of the four units into place on their individual tracks, before walking to stand alongside Cire and run her fingers along his chest, whispering into his ear…

CORRIE – Everything is prepared Lord Quillion…

CIRE – Are you prepared for the physical round of my game Val? Think you can handle it?

VAL – (growls) You know not the depths of my endurance…

CIRE – Then let us discover them…

Cire steps around to the consul where Corrie was operating the controls, gesturing for her to stand by his side as he tests his controls. Val can hear the sickening slicing grind of blades slice into the air, 16 in all, from all four-box units at the same time. The sound is swift and sudden, then Val’s eyes begin to unravel where their destinations lie, cringing in terror as the tracks pass to the end of his forearms, under his armpit and up to his hips, he figures out that the level of tolerance his body can take is about to be pushed to its limitations, his eyes raising towards Cire as the scene begins to draw back from Cire and Val facing each other, while the massive doors to the Killian Throne Room slam shut, only the echo of Val’s first agonizing yell echoes through the darkened, green lit hallways.
 

INTERIOR – THE KILLIAN CITADEL – BIOTECH LABORATORY

While in another sections of the massive Citadel, six floors below the Throne Room, there is a rushing sound of energy flowing, liquid pumping through various tubes, as we step into a dimly light, all white and steel facility. Scattered throughout the room, there are several computers and various monitors and scanners, beakers, and gene sequencing equipment.

That draws our eye though is the massive machine in the center of the room, where six full-sized tube like devices come into focus. Two of the full-length human sized tubes are filled with swirling smoke, as we pass each, gazing into the thick transparasteel glass surfaces. Along the floor, there is a body, smoldering from what appears to be an electrical malfunction. Even the alarms within the building are triggering, sounding off in sharp beeps as a group of Killian Warriors and Lab Techs rush to the scene…

TECH I – Another one? Lord Quillion will not be pleased to hear of this! That’s the sixth one today!

The Tech brushes his fingers along the brim of the dead corpse’s attire. Since the room’s construction and the activation of the…machine, six months previous, there has been a reputation built around this particular device, crowning the center of the room…a reputation for death.

TECH II – I’m not going to tell him! It’s not my fault his machine keeps electrocuting people! What are we supposed to do?

TECH III – (raises his eyebrow) We tell him nothing…his stupid drones are a dime a dozen…all they do in here is monitor the blasted thing anyhow. You don’t want to end up like the others do you? He sent them to the slaughter against Valaryc Versai! I’m not going to end up on his list next!

TECH I – (nods) But…but this machine isn’t supposed to act like this! We’ve checked over its components every time there is an accident! It’s not logically possible for it to keep injuring its maintenance crew!

TECH III – (blinks) You speak as if its alive or something…it’s a machine man, just nuts, bolts, and a hell of a lot of wires and plating, nothing more.

The lab tech known as “II” eerily eyes the menacing device as three trails of violet brilliance snake out of one of the smoke filled chambers, crawling along its surface, daring anyone to approach its fury. Seconds later, the same happens to the chamber at the opposite end of the device.

TECH II – Haunted or not I’m staying away from that thing as much as possible!

TECH III – (shakes his head) Don’t be such a baby, its just a bucket of bolts. It has no feelings and no purposes…

TECH I – But since Crymson took away that cylinder shaped device…what was it called…a lightsaber? Since she exposed the crystals and started this whole damn thing…its been acting like this!

TECH II – I don’t know about you guys, but I plan to enjoy the money we’re being paid for this job…remember the first rule we were told? Never ask questions…

TECH III – (nods slowly) Let’s get his body out of here, and put it with the other drone corpses. It’s beginning to smell, and I figure since Quillion has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t need this place monitored as much as he did six months ago…we should avoid the area all together.

The three technicians glance to one another, then the three Killian Warrior drones glancing to them through their jet-black hoods. The techs are dressed in pristine white two piece outfits, baring a red Killian logo on their left breasts, with a steady sigh…the grab the corpse by the “machine” and quickly drag it out towards the door. One of the Killian Drones grunts in response, as Tech III replies to him.

TECH III – Listen you walking trashcan, if you want to stay in here and tinker with that thing, you’re on your own…we’re considering this area off limits.

The Killian drone raises an eyebrow, and then remains stationary with its companions in the room as the three techs and the dead body of the last “watchmen” disappears from view. Maligna paces by as this happens and quickly approaches the three and questions them.

With startled replies, she growls to them and waves them on their way. Maligna grumbles under her breath for she does not like giving Lord Quillion bad news, but she makes her way to a turbo shaft, bent on keeping her reports, fresh, and up to date to her superior. Her mind still buzzes with a deep resenting hatred and grief over the recent passing of her Master, Crymson Vachon…but there was a deeper connection between them, for Maligna was raised within the Obsidian Order, alongside Isis Surul, because it would come to light that Crymson Vachon…working for Ras before Quillion’s full arrival, shared a night of passion with the dark Amazon…

And bore him a child…

Isis was raised as Ras’s adopted daughter, but Maligna…was blood. This fact would come to turn about a new angle in her loyalties to her master however, for she still wondered exactly why Lord Quillion sent her mother to her death against Valaryc Versai. From Mother to daughter, the hatred over loss was passed, Crymson’s vengeance over the loss of Cire…or what she thought was his loss, was now mingled within Maligna over the loss of her mother…a loss that was genuine but as Maligna did not know Quillion’s true face, she would find that with her father deceased and her mother deceased…

She would discover, within her report to Lord Quillion, what role he truly plays in her family ancestry.
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI TECH – UPPER LEVEL

It has been a solid two hours since Dathan revealed himself to be the Versai Tech mole. Lance Jade has been following security leads, dashing through hallway after hallway but for some odd reason now, all tracking of Dathan’s movements have ceased. Lance barks into his comm. unit trying to get a fix on his location, but each section of security reports that no cameras are detecting his physical form, and no sensors throughout the entire facility are able to detected his bio signatures, its as if Dathan has completely disappeared. Lance has entered the upper level where the main security offices are held in search of any possible leads. The agonizing look on Tula’s lips still plays heavily on his mind, seeing her in pain from Dathan’s devastating lighting assault, while his body for the moment remains only moderately damaged he no longer cares about his own physical well being, just finding Dathan and making him pay…for Val, for Isis, for Tula, and for the lives lost by his presence.

Lance paces into the main deck and glances into several camera monitors scattered throughout the room, meticulously looking for anything that might be out of the ordinary, but it appears that in a sea full of people, Dathan’s trail has abruptly gone cold aside from his last known whereabouts where slices in the Conference Room still possess an afterglow of searing heat, where his lightsaber contacted and melted away the steel.

The guard in charge is also named Michael Angilis. He has served with the Versai Tech security staff since before the damage to the towers above it. His dedication is unquestioned to his superiors and his left breast on his uniform bares various medals of bravery and accomplishment. Lance knows just by his reputation alone, Michael is trustworthy and dependable.

LANCE – Mr. Angilis, do you have any clues as to Dathan’s whereabouts? Anything that might be of some use to me? I mean any bit of information you might have come across…we need to find this guy, time is of the essence.

MICHAEL – (nods slowly) All we know Sir, is that our records show that Dathan Hawkyns was a real legit employee, but his left hand was the one baring the injury. This “Mole” who has an injury on his right hand stole his identity. We don’t have a clue who his real identity is, much less how he managed to deceive us for so long…….

LANCE – How long has he been employed here?

MICHAEL – Since five years ago…he just appeared and worked his way up the corporate ladder rather swiftly, to become a member of the Board. No one questions his loyalty and yet no one can now to this point recall why they never noticed anything suspicious in his actions before today’s incident.

LANCE – Information can be faked and with a force user and a will to use it, memories can be fabricated and as you have come to learn, security can be breached. We need to find out his motive right now, we have men guarding the hanger bays and the building is sealed off, which means he is still in here…somewhere.

Michael nods to Lance and tosses him a file, his eyes roaming the cameras as people work as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Most of the staff you see were asked to be silent about the incident in the Conference room, for fear of panic or a break in the staff’s spirits after the attack on the towers of Versai Tech. Lance wished to maintain that era of safety, even if it was only an underlying illusion, only the people who were trusted knew what was really happening. Workers for the security force were disguised and scattered into central locations to report every fifteen minutes, if there was something seen that looked out of place, from a unused coffee cup, to a moved chair. None of the staff was taking any chances, but the clue that they were searching for would be right in front of their noses the entire time and yet its always the smallest things that go overlooked or are easily dismissed.

Lance smiles to Michael and thumbs through a thick, string bound, brown file, which when opened folds out like a accordion, baring several separate manila folders, each with different file names.

SURUL, ISIS
THE KILLIAN
HAWKYNS, DATHAN

Lance’s fingers thumb through Isis’s file first and her description of Killian equipment. He knows that somewhere in the piles of papers, clothing swatches, and testimonies has to lay a clue to how a hunted man like Dathan can simply vanish from detection.

Lance’s eye catches a particular section of her report, as he glances towards the camera monitors, then back down to the file, opening The Killian file shortly after, thumbing to photos of known equipment. It is there that he finds a small clue.

TESTIMONY – SURUL, ISIS

The outfits are made of blast dampening fabric and are essentially blaster-proof. They are tight but they allow us maximum range of movement and protection from fire and other caustic materials.

"Our technology is advanced, even into gene manipulation and cloning advancement, stolen from The Empire and other sources, though we rarely use it and only Quillion has the authority to use such technology. As you have noticed we carry lightsabers and use various technical weapons, small in scale and undetectable by all forms of scanners and detectors. The material is similar to stealth technology. This would probably explain how your assassin was able to sneak into the building unprotected…”
We have stealth technology and through sources, we have a mass network of stolen technical plans to many, many, facilities…everything from surveillance to weapons systems. The Killain have spies everywhere, both electronic and breathing."

"The reason your assassin would not have been detected by your surveillance cameras is because The Killain have invented a device that shields their body from the infrared and radio waves of surveillance equipment…in other words Val, when we have the device active…we look like and appear…as ghosts."

LANCE – (furrows his brow) Look here Michael, see in this report, the last line there. “This would probably explain how your assassin was able to sneak into the building undetected.”

Michael reads over the text and also points out the line reading, “The Killian have invented a device that shields their body from the infrared and radio waves of surveillance equipment…in other words we look and appear as ghosts.

LANCE – (thumps the paper) That’s it! That’s why we can’t find the little worm. He must have one of those suits and those belts. But it doesn’t say that they are a hundred percent effective in avoiding detection. That means there has to be some sort of flaw were overlooking. We just have to figure out what it is and exploit it.

Lance turns towards the cameras again, and notices a momentary flicker in the picture, so sudden quick its barely noticeable, but it then travels to an adjacent camera, then the next and fades out. Lance spirals his chair back towards Michael and points to the monitor.

LANCE – Why is that series of cameras doing that?

MICHAEL – Its got to be a glitch, caused by the explosion earlier Sir. We’ve seen that for the past hour or so and have men working on trying to figure out the problem. So far we’ve concluded that there’s a short in the main tracing lines, which seems to periodically effect different cameras throughout the area.

LANCE – (raises an eyebrow) The last hour you say? But not before?

MICHAEL – Not that we can tell…why, do you think it has something to do with our search?

LANCE – Maybe…I want you to get a man on this and document every disturbance in the monitors, and document the time and camera number, and its duration. I have a feeling that this “short” is a little too convenient to be just a fluke. I’m going down to those cameras there, to look over the lines myself.

MICHAEL – (nods slowly) I’ll get Matthew Blackheart to watch the monitors, he’s a dependable man. We’ll keep you posted, via your comlink.

LANCE – Very well, don’t let him take his eyes off that screen, I want to know a full report when I get back, put the other security stations on alert, have them report in on ten minute intervals and inform you and I if there is anything found out of the ordinary.

MICHAEL – Will do…

Lance nods to Michael and paces out the door, adjusting his comlink frequency to the Security Deck, his footsteps are swift as he resumes his rapid pace down the hallways of Versai Tech domain, knowing that if Dathan has decided to don his Killian weapons and attire, the situation has gone from worse to a critical race against time, for only a hunter would evade detection, but then who was his prey?

That answer comes at the other side of the building, where Gabriel Lions is resting comfortably in his quarters, unaware that his cowardly acts of leaving his fellow captives behind, was about to come back to haunt him.
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI TECH – GABRIEL’S QUARTERS

Inside Gabe’s quarters, he sits in a comfortable chair, sleeping away his concerns, though within his mind, within his dreams he lives the nightmare previous to Lance’s involvement where Dathan held the members of the Head Council hostage, against their wills to fool Lance Jade into thinking that Ken was the traitor, a plan that might have worked if not for Tula’s last words…and Gabe’s hasty retreat. But Gabe was a self-centered coward; he didn’t even bother to check up on Tula on the hospital decks. But of course you get what you pay for in this lifetime and in his slumbering aspects, he also forgot to recall what Dathan’s warning was to his captives, prior to “showtime”

“Death is the product of change.”

The words by themselves might sound like a history lesson, but in actuality they were an effective message. For to change Dathan’s role of a bumbling, under qualified, sloppy member of the board, would bring about his true self. The real figure behind Dathan’s persona was a sick and sadistic man, who followed only one voice, not Val’s not the Lance’s not the Corporation. Only his Lord Quillion. Sure Dathan was a loyal and lovable employee at times, but it was only to cover the fact that the figure placed into power was given trust and with trust came the rewards and perks of the position and that’s exactly why Quillion placed him in VT over five years ago…

Information…

To change Dathan’s illusion he had set up and to jeopardize his perfect scheme to steal secrets from Versai Tech and transmit them to his Master would bring about death to all of those who would threaten to expose him…Upon discovering Tula’s suspicions the twisted figure posing as Dathan attempted to silence her once and for all, but caught by the rest of the board, his security was shattered, his own course of action was to take drastic measures to ensure his image to those who didn’t know who he truly was.

In doing so, he told Marc, Mitch, Gabe, and Tula the eerie phrase and he meant it well. There was no waver in his words, not one quiver in his eyes. He would bring about death to anyone who threatened his existence and with Tula it began…and it would not end until he extracted his revenge upon all who betrayed him by exposing his identity. They would pay…and aside from Tula, Gabe was first on his list. With the ability to roam about undetected, there was little chance of error and everything to gain.

Gabriel slumbers, unaware that even now as he sleeps, the air duct above his chair is slowly sliding back, and a dark shadow looms, peering through protective lenses…eyeing its prey and preparing for the kill. With a silent thump, the figure enters into his quarters, the alarms that would trigger from a disturbance in the room’s airtight security were already handled with electronic manipulation and by the time the security staff would detect the odd anomaly, the twisted hunter’s deeds would already be carried out.

The clothed specter of death approached closer and closer to Gabriel, one foot moving in front of the other as it withdrew a long, slender dagger from its robe…the robe matching the very same uniform that a true Killian assassin would wear, not some cheap imitation like the one used by Nementh, no this fabric was undiscovered in the technical annuls of Versai Tech’s library, a material bred inside the facilities of The Killian Citadel for the exact purpose its barer was about to carry out…

Taking life…

Gabriel’s body stirs slowly, feeling a rush of air sweep over him. His eyes flashing open in fright as a flash of silver flickers along the surface of his gaze, then a sickening tearing of fabric and a hand that muffles his retching outcry…a single camera captures the moment and a signal is sent out to Lance from Michael …the soundproof nature of the room served a dual purpose of the hunter, it both shielded the sounds of his knife scraping flesh and bone, and the screams of his victim…

DATHAN – (whispers)Death is the product of change...you knew this, you brought it upon yourself.

The silhouette of Dathan in a Killain garb flickers upon the wall, where a small fireplace provided the only lighting within the somber room. The shapes move violently, then suddenly they cease…one shadow is left deathly still, while the other simply slinks away from it, along another wall and disappears from sight.

The last sound…the air-duct cover, neatly being slide back into place…
 
 

**END OF PART I**
 

[ Back to Main Story Page I To Part II ]


 

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