The Nightmares of Corruption Pt. 2

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her trips to the Core should have been few and far between. Dxun tantalized her while she was on Onderon, and in her frustration at her own ineptitude and the slowness of Salem Ave in fulfilling his promise she blew off energy as best she could. Traveling to Coruscant to hunt down Imperial operatives with a small group of Mandalorians (out of armour, and reeking of virility and strength) and her Student was one way she knew she could be satiated.

The transport from Onderon to Bespin was barely half full, but on their connecting flight to Coruscant the ship was stuffed with travelers. The Mandalorians disguised their wonder at space travel well, though she could feel their emotions clearly. They practically trembled with excitement at the thought of action off planet. Getting them off of Onderon was simple enough, as no one expected the Mandalorians to ever take off their signature armour. It was packed away in the luggage, just in case.

Hawkins was silent and sullen for most of the trip. As per usual.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime sat forward, his elbows rested on his knees, in the small chair in the back of his room in their cabin. It was a three room compartment, two bed rooms and a common room. One room was claimed for himself, the other for their precious Mandalore, and her lucky dogs that were finally able to get out of their shells and off that stink hole of a planet slept in the common room.

Something like Coruscant or Nar Shadda. It was an entirely different jungle. But Grime had survived Nar Shadda, kind of... and then the wilds of Iziz had proven the nature of the beast to be only as much natural as Nar Shadda had been technical. Once one of them died. They would be fine.

As to Lilaena. The witch still had yet to teach him how to read minds. Grime did not expect he had to ask. She would simply tell her everything she knew and he would learn it. That was how it would work. And yet she continued to withold the vital instructions to knowing what others thought. De'Ville was returning to Coruscant so soon after her last visit, Grime wondered as to just how well she could cover her tracks.

Her face was on the Imperial's Most Wanted. Not like any common folk cared. In these highly populated areas, one could see beggars that looked like the dead Emperor himself and women who looked more hutt than human. Unless they were obnoxious about it, they'd be fine. The masses were their mask.

The reflection of his handsome face in the large window was deceptive. It didn't show the eyes set behind the sculpted features or convey just how perfect it was, how fake it was. His skin, his real skin, or what was left over, quivered beneath his exoskeleton as his anger slowly rose to the surface. There were so many ways to burn it now, so many ways to let the rolling turmoil within him burn everything in sight. But not now. They had just come out of hyperdrive and were soon to be planetside. And when he touched down, and De'Ville pointed at who needed to die first, because they would all die in time, heads would roll.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The transport touched down, and the Mandalorians slowly straightened from where they'd been lounging around the common room of their suite. Bretak, her second, had been left behind on Onderon, overseeing the choosing of the hundred Mandalorians who were to be given ident cards and access to the City. Granoi and Dredale, two female warriors of great renown (Dredale had once killed a boma with her bare hands) were part of the party, as well as three males: Jeng, Vason, and Kranog. Vason stood up and walked to the door as the transport stopped moving, opening it to peer cautiously into the passageway. The Mandalorians took their job of keeping Mandalore safe very seriously, and were able to make it look like they couldn't care less about the female in the brown jumpsuit.

Hawkins shouldered his bag and hers, though both were light and contained little other than a change of clothes. The warriors filtered out carrying their luggage, Dredale linked arm in arm with Lilaena as Jeng carried her bag. Dredale had short dark hair as well, and they had found that they looked enough alike that they might be mistaken for sisters. The Mandalorians had been sequestered on Onderon for many generations, but they were smart, adaptable, and had spent the whole trip learning as much about the galaxy as De'Ville would tell them.

If they stared a little pop-eyed at Coruscant as the group emerged from the spaceport, then all the better. They were tourists, and they looked it, for all their languid grace. Dredale hummed a little tune as Lilaena located them a taxi to their hotel, a Mandalorian song that had a lot of blood and death in it. Most of their literature and songs involved death.

[Hawkins Grime]

They reached the hotel and their suite at around what would count for noon on the Coruscant clock. The Mandalorians deposited their luggage in the main room, Grime left De'Ville's on a table near the entrance, and then walked into far left bedroom of three available. The hotel was classy, nothing extravagant but what would be expected of a group of tourists who had bought into a place like this through a travel agency.

Upon entering what would now be his room for the duration of the stay, he slammed the door shut behind him. He sealed the windows, deactivated the mirror, and dropped his bag beside the bed, before sitting on the edge of the bed. The taxi had been cramped with all of them and their luggage and Grime's skin was still crawling from being so close to another living thing and having not killed it.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, resting his artificial face in his metal hands. The rage. Grime had nothing of grace anymore in the face of such a hurricane. Grace? He was a corpse kept alive by a metal frame and it had already taken two years to not have the disposition of a wind up toy. The notion of grace was beyond Grime at this point. How he craved the power that was wrought from his own hatred but it threatened more often to devour him in every aspect.

It spoke to him when his suffering and passions flared up like a solar flare from a star soon to go nova. Nothing as comprehensive as words, but compulsive suggestions and flashing images. De'Ville had died many times already, image after image of how and when. But he needed her. For now. Grime had been intent upon exacting his revenge against those responsible for his 'first death'. But his hatred had grown with his powers. And his revenge was no longer exclusive. There was almost no question in his mind of the matter; everything would burn for what happened to him. Nothing deserved to be alive anymore than he was.

Grime inhaled and exhaled, slowly. His muscles were twitching, his heart was beating like it was on an adrenaline rush. He tried to manage the mounting hatred within him as he was accustomed to, like trying to ride a flood of molten lava up a mountain of ice, the furnace perpetuating the emotions uncontrollably with memory after bitter memory.

Beside Grime, on the atmoscontrol tab display, the temperature was slowly going up.

Hawkins wasn't sure how long he sat there in the darkness, but when he lifted his hands from his face, the internal rage had subsided. He sighed, his body stretching itself as he stood. He opened the door to the common area to return to the small group and hear their intentions on Coruscant from Lilaena now. The Mandalorians would have had plenty of time to settle in while Grime had been occupied.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

It took the group hardly any time at all to settle into the hotel suite. It was stretching the last of Lilaena's credits to purchase it for three nights, but she didn't mind. The Mandalorians had many artifacts of their own - working shell guns (shells were few and far between, though some still knew the making of them), things made of the famed Mandalorian iron. She planned on arranging for the Mandalorians to turn some of their assets into Imperial credits, which would of course be essential if they were to begin buying supplies out of the City.

Mentally she brushed all those thoughts away as Hawkins re-emerged from his room. Jeng was tossing coasters at Granoi, only to yelp as she threw them back with more force, bouncing them off his chest. Lilaena suspected that the two were involved in some sort of complicated courting process. It seemed to revolve around sarcasm and other nonsensical things that they shot back and forth in Mando'a.

She got up from her perch on the edge of the couch, and the Mandalorian's eyes all tracked to her immediately. They cared not where they were to be fighting, only that they would be fighting. She had taken one enemy away and had promised to give them another, a greater enemy more worthy of their attentions. Her honor guard was ready to judge for themselves, and the thought of bloodshed set their eyes sparkling.

Hawkins was a different matter. Still, he listened quietly as she outlined her plan for infiltrating and destroying a top level Imperial research laboratory. Its destruction would set many things into motion, and in turn would bring others to a halt. Her voice hardened, "The Empire seeks to destroy all Force users - and all those who might possibly become Force users. This lab contains their research on Force sensitivity, and tools they have been using to determine whether a being is an adept or not. I want everyone in the facility killed, and all the equipment destroyed."

[Hawkins Grime]

She had set the objectives and the Mandalorians were already at work with their kits. None of their armor of course, it stood out too much. It would've been like leaving pieces of bread the size of a small moon as a trail of bread crumbs to where Lilaena would be staying. But that drew an inquiry from Grime.

"You have some method of going about this and not being discovered about it or are we just going on a rampage? Nevermind that newscast we made with your last appearance."

His voice was acidic with sarcasm. Grime had no preference as to the method but he needed De'Ville to teach him how to harness his hatred, not be an example of what not to do while attempting to kill Imperials on Coruscant. They had made the top story for two days straight on the Imperial Holonet after their appearance at the Grand Inquisitor's home. Of course, they all knew who Lilaena was, Grime merely being some 'sinister pyromancer'. But if she really just wanted to make a scene this time, why not bring along the Mandos in their armor? Why not just call the Inquisitoriate ahead of time and say we're on our way to deliver some Twi'lek food and the fortune company that comes with it will say 'if she escapes, check Onderon'.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She looked sideways at him, the Mandalorians paying no attention to the two of them. Grime spoke roughly with her, but he had yet to truly test her patience. The first time he had sniped verbally at her in the Mandalorian encampment, Bretak had nearly taken the man's head off. And in turn had very nearly been burnt to a crisp.

Mandalore told her warriors to pay no attention to what she did with Hawkins. It was her business, and hers alone. And so in the suite the Mandalorians turned blind eyes, though she was sure that they missed nothing.

The Knight silently studied the length of her student, pristine in his gilded skin, but she could feel the suffering he felt underneath his exoskeleton. Could feel the hatred and resentment building as she delayed her response to his sarcastic query. With two steps she crossed the distance between them, and had him by the shirtfront, slamming his body into the wall behind him.

The room boiled with sudden heat, and she concentrated on pulling the heat from the air around her body as she pressed her arm against his neck with surprising strength. The Force pinned him in place in front of her as the Mandalorians turned to watch with some interest. "Do not question my methods, boy. When I found you, you were nothing but a walking corpse, animated by hatred. I do not want your gratitude, but I demand your respect."

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime's face of course couldn't make the feeble smile his mutilated flesh tried to make, his chin up and his eyes to the ceiling with her arm against his neck. He gargled the blood that had risen to his throat in an attempt to speak, swallowing, he began.

"It was merely a question as to your preference of how we go about it, which you had yet to clarify upon, not whether or not your methods were of competent strategy."

He swallowed another gulp that felt like more mucus and blood. Flashing images of De'Ville twisted and contorted in all sorts of painful positions appeared in the void he was staring at through the ceiling.

"Would you rather I finish each sentence with Master to give you the illusion I care? I do what you say, witch, and I do it well. I might be a walking corpse but you made me a weapon to suit your needs..."

Swallowing more blood, not enough to mean anything, but the impact with the wall must have shook something up.

"Now that you've proven your point, Master... You were saying..."

Blood trickled from the side of his mouth, scarlet red against the paleness of his face. His eyes burned, the images flashing behind his eyelids faster and more graphic when closed. One metal hand came up to her wrist and gripped it with an unexpected frailness. She wasn't dead; he hadn't tried to kill her yet, wasn't that respect enough?

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She released him, and while he would never grovel, his face was slightly downcast as she outlined their plan of attack. He was probably glowering at her behind his too-smooth face, and trying to determine how much damage had been done to him. The hate would never cease, she realized, it was what had drawn her to him in the first place, like a moth to a flame.

They would do the job tonight, and lay low for a day before catching a transport for Bespin. From there they were making one more hop to a junction 'port, and then on to Onderon. She'd studied the plans that she'd gotten on her own, with no help from the Executor, and as long as they were accurate everything would be perfect. As long as there were no flies in the ointment, like IG-88 on Thyferra almost five years previously.

Grabbing their packs (armor was good for concealing weapons, but so were backpacks), the small group headed out. Lilaena walked with Hawkins at her side, leading the way out of the hotel as the Mandalorians nonchalantly followed at a distance. The two groups came to the same turbolift shaft by what appeared to be chance to anyone who might be watching, and the Mandos went down first. As they waited for the next 'lift, Lilaena looked at Grime.

"I don't know what you did in your other life, but most of the people in this place will not be armed." The 'lift arrived, and the pair stepped inside. Turning to face the door, she added, "But some ideas are more deadly than blasters." She didn't think he had a problem with killing unarmed beings, but if he did it was a good time to find out.

[Hawkins Grime]

CENSORED smeared blood up his face, smiling, as he slid the out of place strands of hair back and out of his eyes.

"Please... Sir..."

He looked over his shoulder, away from the blank stare of the corpse in front of him, and to the female that was impaled in the shower. The shower was running, hot water running over her clothed body and keeping the blood running from her gut, as a vibrolance kept her pinned to the wall. She would bleed from that wound for hours and only die after experiencing the most exquisite amount of pain.

"Sir... don't kill them... p-p-p-please..."

The rest of her words became incoherent by the sobbing, and then the screaming. By them, she meant the three children upstairs, that were tied down and gagged as instructed and done by two of CENSORED's men.

Without a word, he left the room and travelled upstairs, his boots leaving a trail of blood behind him. His feet fell soft on the carpet of the stairs. His intent would not have been assumed so malicious from the way he walked but the blood that soaked his clothes, none of it his own, betrayed ill will from the first sight.

How that woman screamed at the first sound of pain from her helpless children.

=======

Grime stared at his reflection, the eyeless visage beneath the shade of his widebrimmed hat.

"You don't know what I did in my other life, witch-mistress. And it is only the fault of most of those people if they are unarmed when I arrive. Regardless, they will die either way. Armed or unarmed."

The door opened, leading to the lobby. With an extreme amount of effort, Hawkins smiled, his artificial face actually curving into a perfect grin, a pleasant grin that would be unravelled in its appearance the moment someone saw his eyes.

"After you, Lady."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The smile was eerie, and not only because she had never seen him smile before. She stepped out of the 'lift in time to see the Mandolorians making their way out of the front doors of the hotel. She wasn't worried about them being on their own... well, not much. They were disciplined warriors, and only the best would have been selected to be in Mandalore's honor guard.

Hawkins and Lilaena walked in silence, out of the hotel, through a warren of pedwalks and alleys, until they came to a multistory building between two much larger buildings. It seemed to have been overtaken by urban growth, and the windows were covered with plastic sheeting to deter anyone who didn't see the huge "CLOSED" sign that had been sprayed on the door. The door was slightly ajar, and Lilaena pulled it open and stepped inside.

The dust had been disturbed from the feet of her warriors, and shortly they met up with the two women and three men. They were clustered around a row of turbolifts, most obviously broken, but two seemed to be in working order. Lilaena strode directly to one and pushed the call button.

The doors slid open, and she stepped inside to see which floors the 'lift would go to. "Dredale, come with me and Hawkins." The female strode into the turbolift fearlessly, and was joined by Grime.

Lilaena pressed the lowest possible choice, and the 'lift groaned slightly as it began its descent.

[Hawkins Grime]

Their descent into Hell began slowly at first but the 'lift managed to move faster as it continued. The smile on Grime's face had disappeared as soon as they had left the lobby and now the stoic demeanor once again made it appear as if Grime had never shown an emotion in his life.

The ride down was silent and Grime enjoyed the mental imagery of an actual descent into Hell. Coruscant went on and on beneath the surface, deeper and deeper until the sunlight that was adjusted by the whim of Coruscant was a foreign thing. The labyrinth beneath its surface was so intricate and complex, it was no surprise that there would be forgotten access ways into nearly any part of the surface. Grime had heard of people seeking refuge in the darkness beneath Coruscant. Not even the Empire wanted to bother with sifting through the dungeons of their own capitol.

The lift halted and the doors slid open, letting in the smell of stagnant air. Grime watched the two females step out before following. He followed and would continue to follow as he had no clue as to where they were going, how they got there was not his problem. His fingers curled into fists and uncurled, the derelict view of negligence was remniscent of Nar Shadda and its down trodden metropolis.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Dredale was alert, perhaps more alert than Lilaena had ever seen her. Here, down in the unknown spaces where life used to thrive, nothing was familiar. The warrior was used to the claustrophobia of the jungles of Onderon. Here, a mile underneath the upper crust of the city planet, they found themselves in what had been an open air marketplace. The 'crete under their boots was covered in dust and small pieces of debris. In places there was enough buildup that plants could be seen attempting to grow in the semi-darkness.

Many years previously the marketplace had been built over - creating a huge vaulted ceiling with enormous metallic beams. It felt like they were inside some gargantuan creature, and in a way, they were.

Lilaena took a few steps forward in the flickering light of a forgotten streetlamp, and turned on her flash. She directed the beam towards the outermost edges of the room, searching...

By the time the turbolift made its way back down with the three male Mandos, she had found what she was looking for. An old sewer main, long ago abandoned and unused, with a large enough pipe for them to walk upright in, three abreast. It would lead them directly underneath the lab.

[Hawkins Grime]

They walked, and they walked some more. Grime was glad he didn't have any real sense of smell; each stride was made a thick slurping sound. The sewer they were traversing hadn't been used in ages but neither had the pestilence control systems and the types of bacteria and fungi and other assorted organisms that were allowed to thrive amidst the dank darkness were in abundance. The small group eventually came to a durasteel barrier with an eroded sign that pointed up.

Grime had been walking in the back of the group, watching the Mandos and their warrior's paranoia set in. The sewer passage hadn't been in any better for them. There were only two paths available, forward and back. If cornered, there were only so many options for them. And forward seemed to end in durasteel wall. Not that the Mandos wouldn't face their deaths head on, but protecting the life of Mandalore, who had so much to do still, was their current mission. Now they looked to De'Ville, to see what their fearless leader had in store for getting rid of it.

Grime had ideas. But he thought his suggestions might be too... questioning of what the Witch might already have in mind. He crossed his metal arms across his chest and watched.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The connection that they were headed towards was blocked behind a heavy durasteel plate. Vason slowly played his flash over the seams and then the tunnel above their heads as Lilaena lifted something off her belt. "Back up and cover your eyes," she barked at the warriors in Mando'a, and they gave her space accordingly. "You might want to look away, Hawkins."

She ignited her lightsaber, the purple blade blinding in the dark tunnel, and pushed the blade through the durasteel. It wasn't thick (durasteel didn't have to be thick) and she began to slowly cut a man-sized hole through the metal. Soon enough the 'steel clunked outward into the other side of the sewer pipe, leaving a doorway edged in glowing red. Having Hawkins drain the heat from the durasteel would have been a good training exercise, but she didn't want to waste the time and so did it herself.

The edges dulled in color, and she ducked through, clipping her lightsaber back onto her belt and turning her flash back on. There was an access shaft just above... and it wasn't hard to pop the cover from the shaft to expose the tube and the old staples that were fixed into the side of it. Lilaena hooked a toe onto a staple on the side of the sewer pipe, and vaulted upwards into the shaft, grabbing handholds once inside.

[Hawkins Grime]

The Mandos looked from the disappearing feet of De'Ville to Grime and noted his lack of movement. Quickly deducing that Grime wasn't going next, they all began to follow in suit without any hesitation. Hawkins still stood with his arms crossed over his chest, eyeing the molten edges of what had been a durasteel wall before him. A lightsaber, destructive, seemingly light and easy to handle. A valuable weapon that unfortunately Grime did not think he was able to wield. His body was a clockwork toy; his dexterity was beyond something so agile. Hawkins left his own molten edges of his imbitterment towards his handicap beneath his thoughts as he finally stepped to the shaft.

He glanced up to see the feet of Dredale seeking a foot hold above him. Hawkins noted the confines, how easy it might be to just ignite the air and burn the entire troupe above him to a pillar of ash. One metal hand slipped around the edges and he stepped off and upwards. Thoughts of melted flesh and boiling blood cascaded across his vision as Grime continued upwards, the stagnant air fading away the higher they climbed.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The climb was interminable. De'Ville could hear the faint creaks coming from Grime's exoskeleton as he toiled behind the Mandos, and his labored breathing. Every exhale was no doubt a curse aimed at her.

"Hold," she said, swinging her right foot out to catch the staples that ran opposite the set she was climbing, and resting her back against the shaft. "Five minutes, and don't fall."

Suspended in the tube, five Mandos and one apprentice beneath her, Lilaena looked upwards. They were almost there - the ventilation entrance to the lab was not far above. But when they got there they would need to be ready. A canteen of water was passed up to her from Jeng, and she drank sparingly before handing it back down.

[Hawkins Grime]

They all made it seem so easy. Of course it was easy for such healthy well bred warriors. And De'Ville. Maybe she could heal herself with the Force. That thought was like a spark to a furnace stoked with gasoline. She wouldn't teach him how to read minds or heal himself. She wanted him in a disadvantaged position, she knew what strength he had. And if she could read minds, she knew who he was before. She was afraid. She feared what Grime might become if he regained his former life and could control his powers to such a destructive degree. As Hawkins held himself in place, he leaned one side of his body against the shaft, staring at the side opposite him, picturing what he might have to do to De'Ville to get that information out of her.

Several mentally played out tortures and executions later, five minutes were up and Grime looked up. If he didn't hate everything about everything that existed, Hawkins would almost say Dredale had a fine pair of legs and with a fine posterier to match. If he didn't hate her for merely being alive.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Five minutes slipped by in silence, broken only by the sounds of their breathing. Lilaena tapped Jeng on the shoulder with her foot, and turned to begin climbing again. A few minutes later she stopped.

The access to the laboratory's ventilation system was just ahead, the panel bolted shut from the inside. However, the staples had been removed, or at least partially removed, from both sides of the shaft leading up to it. Someone must have leaned down with a pair of bolt cutters and tried to snip them off. Underneath her the Mandos waited silently, Jeng the only one who could see what they were facing.

He didn't look worried, but then she wasn't too worried either. But Grime was not nearly as agile as she, and after such a long climb... Lilaena wondered if he would fall all the way down the shaft, or if he would be able to catch himself on the way down.

She swung out again, putting her foot on the opposite staple and leaning against the side of the shaft. Concentrating, Lilaena began removing the bolts from the access cover with the Force, the nuts falling inside the ventilation ducting with metallic plings. The plate came loose, and she pulled it outwards, suspending it above her head. Jeng murmured something, but did not move.

Carefully, and quietly, Lilaena pushed the inch thick durasteel plate up the shaft past the access point, and wedged it into the staples. Satisfied that it would not fall, she turned her concentration to the open hole above her. Clean air drifted down towards them, making the stench they were traveling in that much more noticable.

The staples above her head had been cut down to nubs, but there was enough for a handhold or two if you didn't mind the sharp edges. Pushing herself up with her legs, the Jedi stood on the last intact staples on either side of the shaft, and set about shuffling upwards, catching footholds on the bits of metal imbedded into the walls. Once she reached the same height as the access shaft she swung her body to that side of the tube and used her arms to pull herself inside. There was just enough room to turn around, and she did so just in time to see Jeng pulling himself in. No, it didn't look like the Mandos were going to have trouble getting in.

Lilaena backed up to give them room, picking up the loose nuts from the floor of the ducting and putting them in a pocket so they wouldn't make more noise.

[Hawkins Grime]

The Mandos began to move above him but Grime waited, intent on catching his breath some and allowing his frail body a moment. He closed his eyes and waited, breathing slowly. By the time he glanced up again, he was watching the tip of Dredale's foot disappear over where the exit must be. Grime grimaced and lifted one hand to the next staple. The slight grating of metal on metal was reassuring that he had a grip as Hawkins began to climb.

He reached their exit and glanced around at the dilemma of what would be considered acrobatics for his stiff frame. He turned to one side and groped in the space before him for some kind of handhold. He found the remains of staples above him and his fingers closed over one sharp edge of them, his sense of touch was numb to such a thing, the exoskeleton handled it without complaint. Grime pulled himself upwards with a wheezing exhale of breath, his metal boots searching for a foot hold. The treads of the boots found some grasp but obviously not enough for Hawkins to make a proper judgement as his weight shifted and he suddenly slipped.

His blood shot eyes opened in instant despair and shock as less than reputable death from a broken neck falling down a sewage pipe flashed inside his mind. His hand shot out and a metallic ring and loud wrenching noise echoed away from him. His hand had impacted with the wall just below his exit and had dented into the side of the pipe and peeled a layer away within his grip. He hissed through his teeth slowly, Grime couldn't feel his hand. But he had his grip and holding and he ungracefully scrambled out of the open hole.

To finish it, he flipped upon finally clambering out and landed on his back with another loud clang. He sat up slowly, glancing to the Mandos and then to De'Ville. His eyes spat hatred in every direction and dared them to make any more noise over it than he already had. Grime slowly stood and adjusted his hat while he looked from the corner of his eye at his reflection in a metal cabinet.