Into the Rabbit's Hole

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Mytus System



There was a man. A man that should have died. He should've died many times over, and yet he had not. He had survived to continue on with his existance. Was it that Death had no desire to take him into the fold of those gone beyond? Or was it that Life refused to relinquish its' tenuous hold? So many possibilities, so many reasons. For whatever purpose the man had, it remained to be seen. And for any who desired to reach out and take a hold of him the opportunity to do so was certainly there. He might've been useless to most, but there was at least one who saw in him a necessity.

Vega Van-Derveld was not a very lucky man at all. It seemed that Life wished to torture him, and Death wanted no part of him, And so he was left to languish. A miserable way for any man to exist to be sure.

But there was at least one who wanted him. One who desired his company, if not the cultural companionship that he could offer. Even if he was not aware of his significance, he soon would be. He would be awakened from the slumber of ignorance to step out into the light.

And despite the stigma of House Van-Derveld, the fact remained that at least another of the Great Houses had withstood the ravages of time.

Loklorien s'Ilancy waited. Vega Van-Derveld, poor wretch that he was, would be along.

Standing on the bridge of the marauder corvette Kronos, the Lupine watched lazily as those around her went about their duties. It was a small force that Dan had given her with orders to ambush the Imperial convoy transporting Van-Derveld to Star's End.

It would not be long now.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

How long had it been since they had left Doldur? Had they ever left Doldur at all? Time had become an elusive thing, twisting and writhing away from his grasp. The light that hovered above his head never moved, never dimmed and even when he closed his eyes he could feel it burning behind them, boring into his skull and denying him sleep until at last, at last, his body could tolerate no more.

When he awoke, a faint prickling crept across his flesh. They had restrained him on Doldur, all limbs bound, too weak to fight back. What were they doing to him now? Were there needles? There had been needles before, to his arms and throat, flooding his veins with lethargy. Every emotion and impulse was dulled, destroyed. Somewhere in the depths of his mind, Vega Van-Derveld felt the presence of pain – the agony of the shattered bones in the leg which had broken under the collective weight of his own, heavy body and that of the Jedi he had fought.

His pale face contorted, eyes screwing half-shut, lips turning into a frown. The veins which riddled his skin seemed more pronounced, somehow, reaching from the base of his skull to encircle his face like dark, grasping fingertips. If only they would let him feel, if only he could grasp hold of the pain... he'd wield it like the weapon it was.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Star's End. An apt name for a prison. Poetic, even.

Her gaze drifted to the viewport, and s'Il stared ahead at the stars before her. She let her thoughts stretch out into the nothingness of space, an idle exercise to while away the time as they waited. She drank in the coldness, the vast expanse of simple emptiness. It was like a blank canvass, waiting to be marked upon.

"Imperial convoy coming out of hyperspace, Captain."

The helmsman's voice cut through the normal bridge chatter, and s'Il turned her eye int he direction of the Kronos' captain, Lanick. A short man with short-cropped black hair, Lanick gave a nod.

"Good."

Turning to the Lupine, he gave a deferential nod.

"We must wait until the convoy passes by before we can strike."

"Do as you must, Captain. It matters little to me how you secure our target; only that you do."

Hidden in the sensor shadow of Mytus VII, the small Rebel contingent awaited the convoy.

And as they waited, s'Il once more returned to her absent mental wanderings.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

For a prison transport, the convoy was surprisingly well armed. At the centre of the group was a Carrack-class light cruiser, flanked by an escort of two smaller vessels. On the exterior of the light cruiser was a rack meant for transporting a detachment of TIE series starfighters, though it was by no means full.

On the bridge, a young officer in grey approached his commander and gave a brisk salute.

“Sir... communications inform me that Viceprex Geven is eagerly anticipating our arrival.”

“Excellent,” the captain replied, though there was a distance to his voice that implied his attention was elsewhere. His eyes lingered on the view-port ahead, where Mytus VII drew nearer. Stars' End was the reputed to be the most remote and secure prison complex at the Empire's disposal, housing thousands of criminals in peaceful stasis.

For a brief instant, the captain imagined what might happen if the stasis containment mechanisms were to fail – though the subsequent thought of the inmates turning upon one another in a merciless bid for freedom made him smile. They would destroy one another long before they could harm anyone else. It was only necessary to look at Van-Derveld for proof of that; for all he had tarnished the name of his good family and that of the Empire, he had saved the worst of his anger for himself. It had already cost him a great deal, but there was still penance to be made.

As the captain allowed himself to indulge in a moment of vengeful satisfaction, the cruiser he stood aboard passed by the hidden Rebel contingent, unaware of what lay hidden so close at hand...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Rebel fleet sprang to life, appearing out of the sensor shadow like a swarm of mynocks. Two Marauder cruisers, a half dozen gunships, and a squadron of X-wings descended upon the convoy.

Captain Lanick directed his assault with the practiced precision of a man who'd done such tasks countless times before, which was the very reason that Dan had chosen to use him. With enough successful raids under his belt, the Rebel was a practical choice.

This attack was to be quick, and Lanick wasted no time in delivering his orders to the small attack force under his command.

"Hawk Squadron, go in low and spot the outer convoy defenses! Take them out quickly; no dawdling."

A chorus of confirmation replies filtered into the comm officer's headset, and Lanick continued on.

"Gunships, ion cannons only. Cripple them... I don't even want them to be able to crawl."

From her position on the bridge, s'Il watched it all. She wrapped the Force around her like a cloak, and as the Kronos swept down upon the convoy, she watched the Rebel fighters strafe the unfortunate Imperial ships with startling accuracy.

She could already sense the confusion emanating from those about the prison transports.

It would not be long now.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Rebel starfighters swarmed around the Imperial cruiser. “Sir, an ambush!” a voice on the bridge cried. The captain shot an infuriated glance about at the ensigns manning various command terminals and control panels.

“Deploy the TIE fighters. We only need hold the Rebel dogs at bay until we're within range of Mytus-seven.”

The ships crew moved with practised efficiency; each man knew the part he had to play. In the medical ward, doctors monitored the status signs of their patient as a faint tremor rippled through the ship. In his near-comatose state, Van-Dervelds eyelids twitched as his eyes rolled about inside his head...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Sir! They're deploying their TIE fighters!"

"Make sure that our X-wings stay on them. The quicker we can do our job the better."

s'Il knew that it would not take too terribly long to subdue the Imperial convoy. The Kronos was even now moving into position to launch its' own boarding shuttle, which meant that Lanick was confident enough in the abilities of his men to successfully hold back their enemy so that their target could be acquired.

Turning on her heel, the Lupine sent a nod to the captain; he knew that she was to have the task of bringing their man aboard. Leaving the bridge, s'Il moved quickly through the corridors of the corvette at a brisk walk. It would not do to keep her man waiting.

The hangar bay was a swarm of activity as she stepped through the blast doors. One of the commandos chosen to lead the boarding party was soon at her side as they strode across the decking to the designated shuttle.

"My men have already been briefed. We only wait for your word."

Striding up the extended boarding ramp, the two filed into the small bridge. Standing behind the pilot's seat, s'Il turned her gaze to the commando.

"Captain Lanick will signal us when we may depart."

"Yes ma'am."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Above the Carrack-cruiser upon which Van-Derveld was being held, the atmosphere was not quite so calm. For all the crew were working to the best of their efforts, it was quickly becoming apparent that their best simply wasn't enough. One after another, TIE fighters were being picked off as enemy starfighters circled the convoy, their orbit become smaller with each lap. It was only a matter of time, now, before an attempted boarding was made.

“Prepare for confrontation,” the captain said, his features grim as he gave the command. The stormtroopers on board moved quickly to their posts, to defend all likely entrance points.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The boarding shuttle gently maneuvered to dock, the flight crew working swiftly. They knew that time was of the essence.

The commandos as well were ready, and as the last locking clamp shut tight, they hefted their assault rifles. The shuttle jostled only slightly as it latched itself firmly to the cruiser, a dull thunk reverberating through the small, enclosed space. There would be no need to cu through the airlock doors; the Imperials at least knew enough that it would be a futile attempt to delay the inevitable.

And at the head of her small squad, s'Il faced the door with a resolute stare. Her sabre gauntlet flared to life as the interior illumination dimmed to a deep red, and the orange twin blades cast those about in an almost unearthly fiery glow. Shoulders squared back, the Lupine reached outward with her senses, feeling those on the other side of the airlock; some were stoic and resigned to what was to come to pass, but most it seemed feared the unseen Rebel force that was soon to be upon them.

Fear. Their fear. It made her grin wolfishly, and reaching out a hand she depressed the button that would open the airlock door.

s'Il surged through, her sabres coming around in an arc to deflect the first salvo of retaliation, and as she pressed forward, she extended her thoughts further out. Like a blanketing mist that fed upon ill-will and greed, she searched the Force for any sign of Van-Derveld.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A lightsaber. Just the sound of it cutting through the air was enough to inspire fear and awe. The sight of it made men tremble. The soldiers on-board the Imperial convoy were men of Imperial doctrine and dogma, who believed in the failings of the Jedi Order and that the Force should be reviled or trivialized as superstition – and yet, confronted with the very thing they dismissed, they were all but crippled with panic. Van-Derveld had been a different matter. They had found him crippled and all but dead, and they had subdued him without incident, but this woman was alive and she was healthy and she was cutting through their hardened defences like so much warm butter.

In his chemical sleep, Van-Derveld's body twitched and convulsed, as the current of emotion that was threading through the ship reached him, stimulating some part of his subconscious mind. Everything they had tried to suppress in him, to suffocate and drown, was returning. It was creeping back into him, each instant of anxiety or anger was a morsel of sustenance to his burgeoning strength...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt it, that faintest of glimmers that could barely be sensed. Dulled, but there all the same. Pouring her own thoughts outward, the Lupine continued to cut an aggressive swathe of destruction through those who still stood between her and her prize.

With each swipe of her sabres s'Il mentally punched her way through the haze that surrounded Van-Derveld. Determined to pull away the shroud that covered his emotions, she let her own feelings and angers wash over him, as though they were guides to lead a prodigal son back into the fold.

The deeper she moved into the ship, the stronger his presence became.

She bared her teeth in a snarl while pulling her blades from the midsection of a stormtrooper.

I'm coming for you.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Behind his eyelids, Van-Derveld saw red. Red, spread across dazzling white snow, staining granite gray, smeared across metal. He saw an animal, fangs bared and jaws dripping with saliva, as it stalked through his minds eye, teeth gnashing, eyes alight with infernal purpose. It moved towards him, towards and through, to consume him, to take him apart and ingest him until he was part of it, and it he, and both of them were tearing into flesh-




With a jolt, his eyes opened, chest rising suddenly into the air, straining against the bonds that held him in place. A ragged breath drawn inward and he felt it, her, so close at hand. The monster, the beast that was coming for him, coming for them all. Emotion unraveled across his features, first confusion and pain, and then elation and triumphant relief.




“He's awake!” a distant voice said. “We need to subdue him!”




“Frell him, we need to save ourselves! We have to hide!”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

So close.

She could feel him as he tore himself from the mental bonds that held him down, and took joy in his mind's freedom as much as he did. The Lupine still allowed him to partake of her thoughts as he continued to shirk the chains that had bound his mind, and enveloped him in a blanket of welcoming, bestial malice. It was his awakening, his rebirth into the life that had so long lied dormant and been denied to him. A vicious, cruel, and feral existence at its' core, yet methodical and ordered all the same.

She tore through the resistance before her, the hum of her sabre blades a terrible death knell that seemed to drown out even the desperate blaster fire that was even now dwindling down.

So close, she could feel as his mind drank of what she offered to him. It was such an experience! In the glow of her blades could be seen ecstasy at the feeling of his hunger for more. Her lips parted as her features took on a look of wild abandon, and her mental barriers were happily cast away in wild abandon as she neared where he was being kept.

There was no resistance now, and the Lupine stepped into the darkened chamber that held Van-Derveld. Through the Force she could see him, his dark energies blossoming from his body. His chest rose and fell in staccato beats as he pulled against the restraints that held him.

Lingering blaster fire could be heard, but here and now, the two Lupines were alone. His keepers had fled.

Extinguishing her blades, she approached him in the now-darkened holding cell. She could hear his breath, taste it even.

Stopping at his side, s'Il gave only a minute shudder as her awareness touched his without the physical barriers previously presented. His aura was intoxicating... even Decepis would drink of it if she allowed.

But she wouldn't. Van-Derveld was hers. Every bit of him would belong to her and her alone.

Reaching up, the Losstarot grazed a hand over his chest to still his motions, letting slim fingers brush upwards until they felt at the contours of his face. She leaned towards him then, drinking in his scent. So rich... so vibrant... so hers.

She pressed her lips to his then, a passionate and raw kiss that would set him free.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

<dl><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">Each sense returned in stages. At first, he viewed the world as if suspended in a bacta tank, everything obscured and all awarenesses cloyed. The closer she came, the greater his focus – yet at the same time, there was something distracting about her, something that caught up his mind and compelled him to focus upon her alone. The Force was strong with her and he, weakened as he was, saw her as a beacon of strength, something to latch onto and hold on tight.</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> As he struggled still against his bonds, more frantic in the knowledge that she was there, she laid a hand on him and though he stilled, it was only because his body was as close to contact with hers as he could muster. The energy of the Dark Side pulsed around her, crawled from her flesh to his, and when their lips met he felt it as if it were electric, the two of them conduits that only strengthened it. </dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> For an instant, he lay still, just allowing the sensation to pass over him – and then, on some maddening compulsion, he bit. His sharpened teeth pierced her lower lip in seconds, drawing warm blood.
</dd></dl>

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The bite... it was not wholly surprising, but at the same time she was not entirely expecting him to do such a thing. And yet, s'Il didn't pull away; instead she pressed down upon his mind with her own thoughts. They were not imaginings of simply the Force however. The nature of the beast within her had risen to engulf him, to swallow his essence.

Bringing one hand around, she began to put pressure on the joint hinges on either side of his jaw, her fingers and thumb firm at first then slowly becoming more forceful.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

<dl><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">Reluctantly, Van-Derveld relented. The taste of blood was a thrill and not one he wanted to lose, but the hand at his jaw was far too compelling to ignore, especially for someone in his state. His eyes opened, glowering out from within hollow sockets, the dark lines beneath them so pronounced against his deathly-pale flesh. With stuttering movement, Vega drew his head away from the beast, in spite of all desire to do otherwise. Her scarred flesh mirrored his own imperfection. A trace of her blood was still on his lips when he spoke, the drone of his voice-box weaker than usual.</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> “You... what are you?”
</dd></dl>

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She relished the coppery taste of her own blood, licking her lips before passing the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away the rest. For a few silent moments she stared down at him, taking in his broken body and the sound of his artificial voice.

"I am the same thing that you are, Van-Derveld."

To say that name aloud!

"You have been blind to your true self for far too long," she moved to carefully unlatch one of the restraints across his midsection.

"And that is why I've come for you."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

<dl><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">The pressure on Van-Derveld's ribs eased as the first of the straps holding him in place was loosened, falling away to the side of the gurney. “You're going to... open my eyes,” he said, as he watched her working at the next restraint, slipping it free of its clasp. His arms were almost free; his fingers flexed, wrists chafing against their bonds. The pain... it was bleeding back into him now, spreading warmth through his cold and stiff limbs, bringing him back to life. </dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> “What are we... you and I?”</dd></dl>

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

As she worked, the Lupine took note of the pain that he felt... used to nurture his cold limbs and extremities. To bring life back into his body. In turn, she too allowed herself to settle comfortably in the blissful Darkness. Her feelings felt comforted by the wildness and malicious nature of the dark side of the Force. s'Il pressed a palm against his cheek, saying nothing for a moment before returning to her task.

With sure movements she removed the last restraint that held him down, and without ceremony helped him to sit up.

"You and I? We are myths and fairy tales.

"We are Lupines."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

<dl><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">Lupine... the word fired a dim spark in some part of his memory, but nothing more than that. In the end, Van-Derveld did not care what she thought he was. He understood only that she wanted to set him free, and whatever her motivation was would remain a moot point until he was free of Imperial custody. </dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> Sitting up, every part of him still felt like lead whilst his chest rose and fell in long, slow breaths. Arya Ravenwing had cost him one leg, the limb replaced beneath the knee by unwieldy cybernetics. Now, its organic counterpart was showing signs of damage too. Though he couldn't feel the exact extent of the damage, something told him that walking would not be an easy thing.
</dd></dl> “Show me the way... away from here.”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A knowing nod, and s'Il draped one of his arms over her shoulders as she helped to ease him from the metal bed he'd been bound to.

So close to him, she could feel his scent fill her nostrils. She gave a slight huff through her nose, but otherwise kept silent as they left his prison. Rebel commandos could be seen securing the rest of the ship, the Imperial resistance formally subdued finally. While time was certainly of the essence, the two Lupines would be allowed a measured pace.

Two commandos approached to ease Van-Derveld off s'Il's shoulders, and she gratefully accepted their assistance. Now free to lead the way back to the boarding shuttle, the Apex Lupine stalked forward, the men under her command following in a sweeping pattern.

They didn't concern themselves with whatever survivors were left; there was simply no need.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

<meta http-equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"><title></title><meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.0 (Win32)"><style type="text/css"> <!-- @page { margin: 2cm } P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } --> </style> <dl><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">The commandos made no attempt to speak to the man they were effectively carrying. Even with their support, Van-Derveld's pace was slow and his breath came heavy through flared nostrils, the scent of blood, sweat and something rotten surrounding him. At times, they chanced a glance towards him, warily eying up the thick, dark veins that stretched across his marble-white skin – but Van-Derveld's eyes never wavered, never strayed from the sight of Loklorien s'Ilancy, ahead. Though his shoulders sagged and his head fell partly forwards, he continued to stare up at her from beneath his brow, spasms of emotion twisting into his features from time to time – frustration, determination, desire. </dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;">
</dd><dd style="margin-left: 0cm; text-align: left;"> Where they took him was irrelevant, so long as she was there. She had awakened him, she had the key to his former power... and perhaps more besides.</dd></dl>

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She could feel his emotions easily; they were raw and primal. They made a malicious grin spread across her lips. And, just as she had allowed him to feed upon her own thoughts, so too did she. She drank in his frustration. His determination. His desire. All of those she pulled inward to herself, only to abruptly cut him off from her malevolence. Like some granite slab between them, she had shut him out.

Stepping through the airlock and back on board the small assault shuttle, s'Il kept a careful eye on those who'd taken Van-Derveld from her. They were cautious in their handling, and moved him to rest toward the back of the ship. Easing him down onto the utilitarian bulkhead bench, they shifted away to secure their own selves.

The rest of the commando team was efficient in their retreat. They'd fulfilled their objective, and now it was time to leave.

As the airlock hatchway was sealed, s'Il moved to lower herself across from Van-Derveld. For the first time since laying her eye on him, she allowed her gaze to travel upwards, from his feet to his eyes.

The man was a wreck; battered, broken, and drugged. Yet, through it all there was still a hungering gleam in his eye. He was starving for knowledge and power.

Surrounded by Rebels once more however, the Lupine had to curb her own desires. She had to play the calm and dutiful Jedi that everyone thought her to be. It had become a somewhat constricting facade the more time she spent under Decepis' tutelage, but a necessary facade regardless. Her Master's guiding hand helped, and she'd taken to his teachings with surprising ease since the short amount of time after leaving Schwartzweld.

The assault shuttle pulled away from the crippled Imperial freighter, turning about before its' thrusters propelled it back to the attack group that waited for them.

With her eye locked on his, s'Il leaned forward ever so slightly. A far cry from the woman that had first come to him, Loklorien s'Ilancy was now the very picture of serene patience and courtesy.

"The Rebellion would like to bring you into its' fold, Mr. Van-Derveld."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A few of the crew on board the Rebel shuttle stood around, watching the interaction between s'Ilancy and their latest acquisition. Their were muttered words exchanged, worries that the man looked as if he was already at deaths door. A young female tech stalked away from the scene, in search of med packs.

“Into the fold,” Van-Derveld repeated, in his low monotone, as his eyes fell half-lidded for a moment. His fingers flexed then clenched tight into a fist, knuckles white and sharp. “Into the flock...” His eyes rolled upwards, away from Loklorien to the others watching him. “What do you want from me?”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Leaning back then, the Lupine allowed a silence to pass between them. She followed Van-Derveld's line of sight before addressing once more.

"You're a singular man, and your actions against the newly appointed Empress haven't escaped notice by those of us who would like to see the Empire brought to its' reckoning. We wish to count you as one of our own."

What was unsaid, yet didn't need to be, was that Van-Derveld had caught the eye of someone who wanted him for more than just the assassination attempt on Miranda Tarkin.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Did they know what he was? She did, but the rest of them – they saw only an injured man, a would-be martyr for the cause. It had been his intention to end the life of Miranda Tarkin, that much was true, but not to restore the democracy of the Alliance. His hate was indiscriminate, unrepentant; it's fire would burn anything and everything to the ground, given the chance.

In a sudden dizzying instant, Van-Derveld felt his consciousness wavering. Whatever had flooded his veins was present still and without her influence, it was disorientating him again. He needed time – not only to evaluate his position, but also to regain the strength which had been so cravenly sapped away.

“I need.. food.. rest..”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His words satisfied her, and the Lupine leaned back against the shuttle's inner bulkhead, her head angling toward him.

"You'll have all that you need soon enough."

s'Il gave Van-Derveld a shrewd eye, watching his weary movements and the look in his eyes. He was a wreck that much was easy to see. His Imperial hosts had been less than kind, and his broken body wasn't going to take much more; leastways that was how she saw his situation. A tick of an eyebrow, and s'Il allowed a tendril of her own self slip past her mental barriers to soothe his mind and nerves.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The effect was almost instantaneous. Like an addict taking his first glorious hit after a come-down, Van-Derveld's head rolled backwards, a long and ragged breath drawing in through his dry lips. His eyes never left that serene face, as his tongue ran over his lower lip, tasting the faintest trace of the blood which had stained his skin earlier. He had a hunger for it now, for her. If only he had the strength...

“Then you have my allegiance,” he replied. “For now.”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A genial smile broke her features, and the Lupine felt as their shuttle broke away from the Imperial craft, retreating back to the rest of the small fleet of ships.




* * *



In the six hours that had passed during the hyperspace jump that took them back to the Dauntless and its' fleet, the medic assigned to the small taskforce had done everything he could to help Van-Derveld recover from the effects of the drugs that had been introduced into him. During that time, s'Il had chosen to keep at a distance... Vega needed rest, and while she had been mindful to allow their link to remain, she knew better than to overload him.

In his weakened state of both body and mind, it would no doubt overtax his already bare-thin senses.

It was after the group had dropped from hyperspace that she stepped into the one-room medbay. The doctor stood off to the side, but was quick to vacate as she approached. The door slid shut after him, leaving the two Lupines alone, and s'Il slowly turned to look at Van-Derveld. There was a marked improvement to him, and his eyes were far less dull than before. The hunger was still there however, and it made her giddy with anticipation.

She angled her head upwards to scent the air, rewarded with a familiar smell, and moved toward him.

"You are better than last I saw you."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

'Better' was a relative term. The medic team had been diligent in their work, applying a rigid splint support to his broken leg. There were some other cuts and bruises that they had applied bacta to, but the solution was surprisingly slow working. Where they had excelled was in their efforts to cleanse Van-Derveld of the drugs that had been clouding his senses. In some respects, this had made him better – though better at what exactly was a question up for debate.

For now, he didn't speak. With renewed clarity, he could once again submerge his awareness into the Force, and took a moment to reach out to her, his presence in the Force a grasping, ravenous thing.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt his craving. His presence in the Force was an unmistakable thing and left no question as to his desires. The Lupine was happy to oblige him as her own essence twisted around his, weaving an ethereal tapestry between them that none could see.

She drew closer, reaching out to run a finger over one of the bandages that dotted his body. Peeling an edge back, she noted with slight distaste that the cut had not healed itself by now. She let it fall back into place and turned her eye to his.

"Heal yourself."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

He didn't wince when the bandage was peeled away. The cut beneath was a souvenir from having crashed through the window of Miranda Tarkin's office. There were many similar marks all across his body, though only a handful had posed any real threat to his well-being. Meeting her eyes, his upper-lip curled upwards into a slight snarl.

“Heal myself... do I look like a Jedi?”

The monotonous drawl of his voice-box made the words seem all the more sardonic.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A snarl of her own.

"You are a Lupine. That is all that's necessary."

To demonstrate, she reached to a small side tray and plucked up a scalpel. Pushing up the sleeve of her robe to expose bare skin, s'Il smoothly ran the keen edge across the top of her forearm. she opened a clean line, and blood was quick to seep outward. It dripped lazily over both sides to slowly drip to the deck.

Keeping a watchful eye on Van-Derveld to gauge his reaction, the Losstarot Lupine felt as her body instantly reacted. In a matter of minutes the blood congealed as the skin began to mend itself before his very eyes.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The slow drip of the blood was mesmerizing. If there had been a time when he had not found such a sight practically hypnotic, Van-Derveld could not recall it. How he wanted to sink his teeth into- ...and then it was gone, the wound knitting itself closed, like a pool of water reforming its placid surface after a brief rippling disturbance.

Lupine... that word again. Slowly, he lifted one hand against the pull of the intravenous tube taped into place on his skin. On the heel of his palm there was an inch-wide cut, which ran deep enough to render any dexterous movement difficult. With a ragged fingernail, he deepened the wound, bringing fresh blood to the surface. Only a flight of discomfort crossed his features, soon replaced by concentration as he willed the blood to do as it was intended to.

Sure enough, he began to feel his flesh growing taut, the broken fibers intertwining with one another, stemming the blood flow. With a gesture, he smeared the dark stain on his skin, uncovering the scarred tissue where once the cut had been. It made no sense...

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She grinned at him then, a feral grin that held a mix of pleasure and malice. The slow realization of it all was a thing to be savored for her, and s'Il took a great amount of satisfaction in it. She let her essence fill the air around them, permeate and pass through everything like so many daggers laced with blissful ecstasy.

"A useful talent, no? In time your body will respond without the need to focus. It will be an involuntary thing."

She reached out to take his hand, passing her fingers over his now-healed wound. Lifting his blood-smeared palm to her lips, she gave it a gentle kiss before replacing it at his side.

"There is so much I will teach you," she whispered.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

A teacher... that wasn't something he'd never had. There had been instructors at the Academy on Corulag, officers who had drilled him in the precise methods of the Stormtroopers Corps – but never a teacher, and certainly not since he had abandoned the Empire. For a brief time, he had looked to Khendon Sevon for direction, but the man had not granted him knowledge beyond that which he already knew. There was potential within Van-Derveld, for great things. Perhaps this woman would be the one to unlock it.

Yet, there had to be some hidden agenda. His paranoia would not allow him to think otherwise.

“And in return... what do you want?”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For a long moment she stared down at him, her eye searching his face and taking note of the lines traced by purple veins over death-white flesh. Her stance shifted as she pulled away ever so slightly.

"For now, I have not yet decided."

She steepled her fingers in thought.

"Your House is cursed. The Van-Derveld line a terrible smear upon our history. It is my hope to lift that curse and restore your name so that it may be uttered with pride as with the rest of the Houses."

A brief look to his unwieldy leg prosthetic, and the Lupine frowned.

"It will be difficult."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Bargains were not to be made lightly, least of all with their kind, but there was an undeniable appeal to this woman. Yet, her talk of history and Houses had already begun to tire him. It was not where his blood came from that interested Van-Derveld, but where it would take him and what else it would allow him to do, besides inexplicably heal himself. Nostrils flaring, he strained to sit up further, his jagged teeth clenching a moment before he spoke.

“Let them speak my name with fear.”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A look of mild curiosity, and s'Il tapped a finger on the side of his bed.

"You're not in a position to cause them such a thing."

Her words were clipped, and her eye hard.

"If it is fear you wish to cause in people, then listen to me and do as I say. I will show you how to make them fear you beyond what you might have known before."

Her shoulders squared back, and the Lupine drew in the Force around her like a whirlpool that ate all around it. When she spoke next, it was with a growled mix of two voices that both held such malice and venom.

"That we can heal is nothing. It is only trivial. What you want and what I want may be two different things, but do not think for a moment that I will cast you out. Your cursed name is something I am overlooking for the greater good of us all.

"Do not make me regret my decision."

[Vega Van-Derveld]

Her words gained an ethereal quality, as if she spoke with the prematurely silenced voices of the dead. If it had been her intention to inspire awe in him, by drawing the Force so effortlessly to her, it had worked – at least to a degree. What power she commanded also gave her power over him, as he hungered to possess that which she guarded. She had his allegiance now, at least for the time being.

“I will not fail.. Master.”

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For a few moments longer she stared down at him, feeling as her thoughts and intentions became embroiled in the growing pit of darkness that she'd pulled into herself. Her eye it seemed looked through him as she felt her inner self hunger for more of her own kind. Teagan, Arya, Saricia, and now Vega Van-Derveld.

At his words, s'Il drew herself up, pulling away from him, and her voice softened in its' tone.

"You must rest for now. We will soon be with the rest of the fleet," she reached out to give a final stroke to his pale cheek.

"Work on making yourself well, Cousin."