1000 Oceans: Anger and Rage (complete)

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Aurora: Cernunnos.....

Cernunnos: Aurora-- my lover..... I've been expecting you.

Aurora: I don't know if I did the right thing.

Cernunnos: Such is the nature of Duality.

Aurora: I almost closed a world.

Cernunnos: Closed or openm they would still live and die; defined on their level of understanding. What miracle does anyone really need besides the existence of life itself?

Aurora: You plant a seed and watch it grow, grow inevitably towards winter. Why? Does it really matter one way or another?

Cernunnos: No.

Aurora: And yet... we can dream of spring.

Cernunnos: Spring.... when I lose my grip on you once again.

Aurora: Yes. But I always return to you. Every fall I return. Every fall encompasses the return of the goddess..........

---Dawn: The Return of the Goddess






s'Il took a step into her office, blood covering her clothes, her skin, everywhere. She stank of death, of killing, ............... of Liquid Silver.

It'd been a good day. A very good day.

Her shaking body stood in the doorway as she inhaled the smell of her office. It felt like home. Home.........

Gawd, I have a home now, she thought suddenly, her mind coming back to her for a brief second, ...with Taylor....

And then her thoughts were gone again, the drug firing through her veins not letting her dwell on any one thought for too long unless it had to do with her job; her kill; her bloodstained fingertips still damp...... her lips curled in a feral grin as she breathed in once more, and exhaling, she started for her desk.

Her shoulder holster slipped down her arms and clattered to the carpetted floor as she walked; oblivious to most everything.

Her eyes were white, yet shone with a ferociousness that hadn't been there in a long while. It'd been years since she'd been contracted out to kill someone, and it felt good to spill blood again; good to end a life. Almost like old times.

And the Queen Mother had been happy, satisfied with s'Il's performance, and the credits she'd been given as payment reflected as much. The Hapes Cluster was a good place of business for s'Il; there was always some poor dignitary who'd earned the wrath of the Queen Mother. This time it'd been Duke Courdain. Last time it was a count, and the time before that a general. s'Il was quickly becoming the Hapes Monarchy's 'Metal Eyed Butcher'; a title she thought had been forgotten. The credits were enough, however, that she ignored the name given to her all those years ago by Nasha the Hutt.

Now, after completing the job, s'Il was on her way to Balmorra...

...to live with Taylor... she had to repeat the thought as she stopped before her desk to cast her seemingly sightless eyes up at the painting on the wall. The title showed it as Cernunnos and Aurora, the artist long dead and forgotten by all.

All but me, she mused, her fingers twitching horribly. Strangely enough, the painting reminded her of Millard and herself.

A tremor wracked her body, and s'Il doubled over, her hands shooting out to the desk to steady herself and keep her on her feet. She coughed blood.

[Miiki Barrok]

He loved it when she took Liquid Silver. It had been in the fits of one such drugging that he had fought, and bested her. He remembered that day fondly, licking his lips as he remembered...

He'd knocked her down, shooting her with a blaster in the kneecap. She had resisted at first, standing back up and growling in the way only she could.

Her eyes were white as she was full into the LS Kick.

She stunk of a failed death, the attempted assasination of some lord he never remembered. But she was his now.

Another blaster shot to the shoulder, sending her to the cold, steel ground- her own weapon lost. It was then he saw it...the dark red lightsaber, much like the blood coming from her wounds.

He picked it up, running his hands over the fine craftmanship. Whoever had made it had done well, the craftmanship was impeccable.

He remembered activating it.

"Tell me bitch. Do you bleed white...

The memory faded as he relished it, like a sweet dark wine coating his throat.

He was shirtless, letting only the black pants cover his lower body. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the tattoo.

The Red Krayt Dragon as he was called. Miiki Barrok.

His white hands closed on the lightsaber, and he licked it as if it was his lover.

He smelled of creme and blood and death and sweat.

He pulled his black hair into the two points he was most known for. And then he smiled a wonderful, gorgeous, and evil smile.

"I have come for you, Loklorien s'Ilancy. I have been waiting for this moment.

"A dragon always lets one get away to tell the others about him. You know me, yet do not fear me.

"Fear me!"

He took the first step into The Rascal King, its lights dark from inactivity.

It smelled of blood and death.

He saw a trail of blood from the ramp to the innards of the ship.

He sniffed, as only a creature- a monster could.

He smelled the blood and almost tasted it.

But it was not who he seeked. It was not s'Ilancy.

The one who got away.

The Red Krayt Dragon had arrived.

FEAR ME!

And it hunted silver.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still coughing, s'Il made her way around her desk to sit in her chair. A muscle twitched in her neck, and it created a chain reaction of contraction that took over the muscles all down her back. Her spine arched painfull as her neck craned up to stare at the ceiling, and her red-tipped fingers clawed at the glossy surface of her desk.

She cried out in pain as the drug ripped through her veins, leaving what seemed like hot trails of acid in its wake. Her stark white eyes remained on the ceiling as she did her best to contain the aftereffects of the drug; she was starting to come down. It was almost unbearable, and yet it was worth the edge it gave her. Worth everything.

The tremors left as suddenly as they came, and she gasped in relief, nearly falling over the front of her desk as she leaned forward, choking on her own blood as she rested her forehead on the desktop. Droplets of her red life-fluid dripped from her mouth to pool on her desk, and she closed her eyes.

Her still heightened senses felt the shudder in the deck beneath her as The Rascal King went through its preflight sequences. MMU knew where they were going, and he also knew to keep his internals off; with the exceptions of the bridge and engine rooms of course. Whenever s'Il came back from a job like this, she wanted privacy, and he readily gave it to her.

She felt her ship as it lifted off the landing tarmac; as its repulsors propelled into the air. She also felt her insides being torn apart. It was excruciating. And worth every second of her high.

s'Il stood, or rather she tried, and failed. She fell back into her chair and let out a groan that seemed to come from a woman five times her age; a groan usually uttered by someone on their deathbed.

A shaking hand reached out and slapped her desk in frustration as she tried once more to get to her feet. She needed to change; to take a shower, to wash the stink of death from her body. From her soul.

Stumbling, she made it to her feet and began the trek to the door of her office. For as far as it seemed to stretch out before her, the walk didn't take too long at all, and the next thing she knew she was staggering through the halls to her room.

'Every fall I return to you'...... funny how that has two different meanings, she thought before another coughing fit took her over, sending her to the deck in a fetal position.

She coughed more blood.

[Miiki Barrok]

He could smell it now.

Blood.

s'Ilancy's blood.

He wondered if it tasted the same from the last time.

The last time...

"Tell me bitch, do you bleed white?"

He had asked those words almost six years ago. On Hapes no doubt.

He was just beginning the trade of hunting, taking the assorted bounty here and there.

But things changed when he went to Hapes.

Barrok had learned of the Red Krayt Dragon. And the power it held.

The lightsaber, cold and slick from her blood, was in his white hand. It was lighter than he thought it would be.

But a weapon was a weapon. And it was now...his

It activated, almost by itself.

s'Il was still in her LS-induced euphoria, but was coming down slowly.

It was then, on that cold stone roof, Miiki Barrok took the next step.

The lightsaber was activated, and he slowly began to cut...

The Rascal King was still dark.

Even as it began its take-off, the lights refused to go on.

All the more easier for The Red Krayt Dragon to make his way on and off.

He smelled her blood. It was sweet and soothing to him. Like a perfume but much, much more potent.

He smiled a toothy smile.

When he found the blotch of blood on the floor, he indeed knew it was hers.

"Only you," he mummered to nobody, "Could smell like this"

His red tongue shot out, and he slowly licked the blood up.

She was here...somewhere in the darkness.

He heard the cough, an ugly hacking and wretching, then smiled.

s'Ilancy was nearby. He could smell her.

And there she was, staggering towards her room...for rest no doubt.

He removed the knife, affectionately called "The Dragon's Claws", and threw it.

Red hit black, and The Red Krayt Dragon smiled at the sound of pain.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The jump to hyperspace was made easily; the white pinpricks surrounding The Rascal King stretching into lines that went on forever.

s'Il felt the miniscule lurch of her ship, she felt everything.

And she felt the lancing pain. Horrible, almost unbearable in its suddeness, and completely unexpected.

s'Il reeled with the blow, the blade embedded in her shoulder as she stumbled, falling to her knees in shock and disorientation. She yelped, her cry turning into a moan of utter pain as another tremor shook her body. Leaning against the bulkhead, she slumped forward while reaching for the handle of the knife that now protruded from her upper back; it had struck her just above her left shoulder blade.

Her shaking hand closed around the handle, and with another cry she pulled it out, flinging droplets of her blood in all directions as she whipped the blade through the air, bringing it before her to cradle it in her bloodied palms. Spasms of pain jolted her, and she reached out, grasping for any handhold she could find along the wall to pull herself up with.

This wasn't right......

What the hell is going on.... why........

s'Il was on her feet once more, and her eyes just beginning to lose their whiteness, darted around the seemingly empty halls. I don't....... I...... killed them all, no one was alive to follow me..... what the hell....

She stood as motionless as she could manage, turning to look behind her; no one. Complete darkness. And yet, she heard it. A heartbeat. A steady pounding rhythm that was a constant reminder of ones connection with the living world. The Liquid Silver was just starting to drain from her body, and therefore she was still able to draw from its effects; she froze when the constant beating reached her ears.

And then she double over again, another fit of coughing going through her. She staggered back, unsure of who or what this new assailent was. She knew he was behind her; somewhere. She also knew he wanted her alive; otherwise he wouldn't have merely thrown the blade into her shoulder.

s'Il clutched the knife, her own blood dripping from its serrated blade to land on the deck. Her eyes flitted to the door of her room; it was only a few more steps away, and she let out a heavy breath; it rang like a death knell through the silence of the corridor.

[Miiki Barrok]

He heard her scream and smiled a devilish smile.

His pointed teeth, much like a Devonians, clacked as the evil grin permiated the ship.

He had heard that scream before and remembered...

The lightsaber was activated and he slowly began to cut.

Or thought about cutting.

He held it, just below s'Ilancy's neck, watching her chest heave as she lay in pain.

"Where shall I cut you, bitch? Above or below?"

Barrok heard her non-response, then made it for her.

He cut lightly at first, still uncertain, running the length of the red blade down s'Il's black bodysuit.

It would be years before s'Il developed her 'cloaking suit'.

This was the reason why.

After the first cut, The Red Krayt Dragon paused.

Her skin had been barely singed, but the bodysuit was now open, exposing the creamy flesh behind it.

A creamy flesh currently a bit red from the heat of the blade.

It was then Barrok felt the power of the Krayt Dragon. If he was to become one, he would have to do more damage.

More destruction...and no life.

He held the glowing blade over the prone woman.

Where to cut her now?

Above or below?

He made his decision muttering,

"Well, she's not going to live. Why should she be able to have children..."

The Red Krayt Dragon lowered the surging red blade towards Loklorien s'Ilancy's pelvis.

Then plunged it in...

He was now stalking her again.

He knew she was hurt.

He heard her cry, then heard her sigh.

If he knew The Rascal King enough, s'Ilancy was headed for her room.

Where her blades were.

I wonder, he thought, What it would be like to kill her with another weapon of her own?

The thought gave another pointed tooth smile.

Perhaps he would do more this time than kill her.

Perhaps he would enjoy her a bit, then bring her death.

Surely The Red Krayt Dragon would be pleased with such a lovely sacrifice.

His black slippered feet made their way across the bloodied hall.

Barrok stopped at the pool of blood from s'Ilancy's vommiting.

Then the trail from his knife.

He licked the latter, then pulled the lightsaber out.

The door to s'Il's room burst open, and he saw her prone on the ground.

Her eyes were more silver than white.

"FEAR ME, Loklorien s'Ilancy. For I am here to destroy you.

"Fear me...for I am The Red Krayt Dragon."

And he advanced on the woman, teeth smiling.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd barely managed to stumble into her room, slapping the control switch to shut door before collapsing to her knees, frantically pulling open the lower drawer to her nightstand. Her hands, trembling and bloodstained, searched through the contents, and soon closed around the comforting vial she knew would be her salvation......

....and possible death.

So close to her previous high, she knew the overdose would almost kill her; if it didn't tear her body apart in the first place. She'd seen what happened to Liquid Silver junkies who'd OD'ed; their bodies worn from complete physical taxation, the sheer amount of adreneline surging through their veins driving them insane.

s'Il groaned with the effort of dropping the silvery liquid into her eyes. Her shaking hands held the vial as steady as they could; she'd forgone the eyedropper itself and simply tipped the vial itself up, pouring generous amounts of the drug into each of her eyes. Every last drop was absorbed into her eyes.

In another five minutes her eyes would soon return to the stark white.

I'm going to die....


The vial was thrown to the side, clattering along the cold deck and skittering across the room to come to rest by the far wall.

Another groan as s'Il levered herself up, only to fall back down. The blade she'd pulled from her shoulder lay on the floor where she'd dropped it, and reaching out, s'Il grasped the handle, slick and sickly wet with her blood.

She pulled it to her, then lay there, on the deck, waiting for the drug to take a hold of her; to turn her into a killer once more; The Metal Eyed Butcher.



As her attacker barreled his way into her room, her still silvery eyes widened in terror, and she cried out, suddenly doing her best to scramble back, away from him.

Him.

Oh God in Heaven....

Her mind screamed. She was dying; was going to die, again.

Taylor..... I'm sorry....

Her grip on the knife tightened as she stared into his eyes. If only the drug would kick in....... if only she would be able to survive the next few minutes......

..... I'm so sorry........

[Miiki Barrok]

"I can smell you. Your blood. Your...fluids. But mainly your blood," he said as he entered the room.

Her eyes were the same color as they were all those years ago...when he cut her.

Then it plunged in.

The blade cut her in the pelvis, cutting rather deep.

s'Ilancy's white and metallic eyes had widened when he did this.

The pain was intense.

Barrok moved the lightsaber upwards.

The blade was deep enough to hurt...deep enough to kill.

It was then he felt the change in him.

He was no longer Miiki Barrok- bounty hunter on the edge.

He had changed.

Or began his change.

He felt the krayt dragon move within him.

It called to him.

KILL HER!

That was all it said.

KILL HER!

He agreed, and moved the lightsaber up.

It was almost to her face, almost to her brain.

He knew how her blood smelled, he wondered how brain smelled.

Was it sweet like Kashyykian honey?

Or putrid like a Kracken on Mon Calamari?

Did it boil or did it bake?

He wondered these things as he reached her neck.

Only a few more inches now...

The Red Krayt Dragon's eyes narrowed as he stared down at s'Il.

They are round with black pupils.

He does not blink, does Miiki Barok.

The last time he blinked...he lost a prey.

But now...now he has found the prey.

And it will not escape.

"I have waited a long time for this, s'Ilancy"

His voice is rough and gurgles.

He advances in the room more, spying the display case of swords.

His hand breaks the glass, cutting it.

He feels the blood on his hand but ignores it.

The blood he wants is right before him.

He smells the blood.

He tasted the blood.

Now, The Red Krayt Dragon wants it all.

Her entire body...all to be his.

"I took your ability to have children."

The voice is cruel as the two ponytails of hair get in his face.

He mockingly bites at s'Ilancy, then raises the sword.

"Now...I take your LIFE!"

The sword came down.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

And that's when the drug took a hold of her, pulling her into its clutches of protective insanity; enveloping her in its destruction.

His brief respite into their shared, bloody past was enough time for the Liquid Silver to gain its foothold within her for one last stand against her killer; her murderer; her executioner.

He'd changed, but she'd know his voice and face anywhere.

She had told Taylor that she didn't get a good look at her attacker, that it was dark and the ordeal had happened too quickly for her to react. She said she hadn't seen who he was; hadn't seen the look of bloodlust in his eyes. The look she would never; could never forget.

She'd lied. She didn't know why, but she did. Not that it mattered now. She would never see Taylor again as it was.

Taylor...... please... forgive me....

She was consumed in its passion, its rage, its utter and complete fury, and it bound her mind to it for the rest of eternity. It wound its tendrils throughout her body, coursing through her veins like a raging monsoon and fueling her to new heights as all her previous pain was forgotten.

Her initial shock and terror at seeing him again would be with her for the rest of her dwindling hours; minutes; seconds. But now, with her eyes flashing stark white once more, she felt the anger deep inside as it rose to boil over.

s'Il watched with growing rage as he broke the glass of one of her displays, pulling the elegant sword from its stand. Even in the near absence of light, the edge glinted as he lifted it above his head to strike her.

She snarled.

Her body moved of its own volition, and in a blur her hand; now steady and true as she reveled in her euphoric bloodrage, reached out. Red fingers closed around the handle of the simple, elegant katana stuffed beneath her bed. It'd been a gift from Kyry, and s'Il had never quite found the time to set it up in the armory where most of her bladed collection was kept.

She didn't even bother to remove the blade from its scabbard; instead she held it up crossways to block the downward blow the Dragon was delivering.

The two swords clashed, his stopped dead cold as hers halted it in its fatal journey.

Her eyes narrowed to white slits; seemingly glowing in the semi-darkness.

"I'm not who I used to be, Dragon," she spat.

Goodbye.......

[Miiki Barrok]

He saw the sword come at him, blocking his kill.

Blocking his vengeance.

Blocking his chance to make the Dragon whole.

"Bitch! Whore!" other curses drowned out as he fell back.

But he was no longer who he once was.

The Red Krayt Dragon had control now.

And he would not be stopped.

Not like the last time...

Only a few more inches now.

And her brain would be his.

He would feed it to the being inside.

A being he still hadn't identified yet.

The lightsaber was at s'Ilancy's chin now.

One more thrust and she would be his.

"You will fear me!"

His hands tightened on the cold steel of the lightsaber, as he prepared his final strike.

His eyes blinked for a second.

Then...he was in the air falling.

He never knew, or would know, how he fell off.

But he was falling...

And the ground was coming up so close...

YOU'VE FAILED ME! the voice screamed in his head.

I SHOULD LET YOU DIE!

But it didn't. A ledge popped up and caught Barrok.

The Red Krayt Dragon had saved him.

For now...

But that was in the past.

And Barrok had only begun to feel the Dragon in him.

Now, as he stood in The Rascal King sword in hand.

He felt the power.

And it was wonderful.

"No you're not the same are you?

"You smell...better."

His black eyes do not blink

He swings his sword, blocking the other blade, now exposed.

His pale fist swings at s'Il's pale face.

It misses.

His blade swings and is blocked.

But he succeeds...

A sword to the arm.

More sweet blood.

The Red Krayt Dragon in him is pleased.

He smiles, then attacks again.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il recoiled from his furious attacks, drawing the blade from its sheath and using it to block in the same motion. Pure viciousness twisted her features as she parried his strikes, and their movements seemed to accelerate with each blow, smooth, flowing strokes countering the other for supremecy.

She felt the tip of his blade slice through her arm, but the pain was muted; shoved to the back of her mind as she concentrated on him; his movements. Her hand; the same hand that had been grasping the knife he'd thrown at her, lashed out to catch him along his chest. It blazed a shallow trail crossways across his skin, leaving red in its wake before she flung the small blade away.

Just like the Reaper and his lover; dancing in the moonlight....

For a brief moment their blades came apart, and she twisted past him, her movements graceful as her hair flew out.

So close to him was she that strands of dark blonde slapped enticingly across his bare shoulder, almost caressing in their soft passings.

Like the gentle kiss of a forever lost emotion.

Something she now lacked. Something she knew would be lost to her, and a brief moment of regret flashed through her mind as she thought of Millard.

Beyond salvation....... I've already fallen.....

"Both of us changed that night..." She brought her blade up to bat his away as it swung crossways at her.... ".....you died just like I did..."

s'Il stepped back, holding her sword in a loose grip, feeling it as though it were an extension of her body. Her mind. Her very soul. The drug pounded through her, and her chest heaved with her exhertions.

She growled at him; just like that night so long ago, and maddened, white eyes locked with his own.

"Death; dying............... shouldn't be this hard......."

[MMU]

Outwardly, The Rascal King sped silently through the tunnel of hyperspace onwards to Balmorra, seemingly undisturbed; at peace. The calm exterior belied the storm raging within its confines though, masking the pure malevolence roiling from the two combatants locking swords.


MMU sat happily in s'Il's modified pilot seat, humming a tune to himself as he busied himself with whatever he could find to occupy his processors.

s'Il had expressly forbade him to activate his internals; with the exception of the bridge and his engine rooms, and he was obeying her to a fault. She always did that whenever she come back from a job like this, and the small avatar had no problem whatsoever leaving her to herself so that she could wear herself down. The kind of high she had on a job as opposed to when she took the drug for fun were two completely different things; two completely different mindsets.

And MMU followed her orders to the letter when she told him to stay out of her business. The two had a strange, symbiotic relationship that seemed to transcend even the closest of friendships, and neither would do anything to the other to intentionally place one another in harm's way. They respected each other too much, and for all of The Rascal King's naivety in certain aspects, he considered Loklorien s'Ilancy his family, and would do anything to protect her.

Unfortunately, his ignorance of the situation unfolding in his bowels would attest to his devotion to s'Il.


And so the little droid sat, watching the starlines as they stretched out before him on the optical viewscreen, humming away to his heart's content and completely oblivious to the desperate fight for life s'Il was losing.

[Miiki Barrok]

He gazed at her as she said they both 'died'.

"No bitch. I became something greater."

His black eyes focused on her white ones.

White, like his skin.

But unclean and ugly.

He had indeed been changed on that day...

The Dragon had changed him after the fall.

Made him stronger.

Each day it harrassed and yelled at him.

YOU FOOL! it would yell

LETTING YOURSELF BE DESTROYED BY A MERE GIRL!

YOU MUST KILL HER!

MAKE HER FEAR YOU!

The anger of The Red Krayt Dragon had changed Miiki.

Made him hard and cruel.

The next time he had a target he skinned them.

Then made a coat for the Hutt Lord he did it for.

Then he got the tattoo...

And that tattoo currently had sweat running down it.

Barrok was pleased at what he saw.

s'Ilancy, sweating and bleeding.

White eyes staring out as though blind.

Blind to him and his power.

Soon...The Red Krayt Dragon would have his revenge.

He charged her, 'Dragon's Claws' flying.

One struck her leg.

Where he had struck her before.

On that night when his life changed.

Their swords crossed paths.

The clanging music to the dragon's ears.

He cut her again.

Barely, one the edge of her side.

More blood, more pleasure.

"You have not changed, wench!"

The sword swung at the smuggler's head.

"FEAR ME!

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il staggered out the door, the knife he'd hurled at her buried to the hilt in her upper leg, and she cursed. And then the tips of his sword found her side, if not only barely, but enough to make her gasp in pain, and she stumbled back, slamming into the opposite bulkhead.

And yet she drove the pain from her mind, calling on the drug rearing its head in her body, and dropping to one knew as his sword swung over her head, she grinned as she heard it's steel whine though the air missing her by mere inches.

"You're getting soft, Dragon," she said grimly, driving low with her blade at his legs. He dodged backwards, and she used the distance between them to push herself off the wall. Her free hand reached down to pull the knife from her leg, and she hissed as the serrated edge ripped her skin even more on its way out.

Her clothes, originally stained only with the blood of her victims, now was splattered with her own; as were the walls all around her.

s'Il knew she was losing more blood as every second ticked by, that she should be dead right now, but it was her drug that kept her alive, sustained her and gave her the fuel she needed to keep from dying at the hands of her killer.

As they stared at eachother, each gripping their dripping blades, s'Il threw the knife to the ground.

"This pain," she growled, her breathing heavy. "how many times do I have to relive it..... is it not enough you killed me before; you have to do it again......."

She had to somehow stall him; long enough to live through the hyperspace jump. That's when MMU would turn his internals back on.

When he'd see the battle that was being waged within him.

[Miiki Barrok]

"You wish to think you escaped me on that day," the hunter crowed as he advanced.

"But you only delayed your death.

"And you are still weak, bitch!"

He swung his blade again.

Another block. Another swing.

This time...a cry of pain.

s'Ilancy was dying.

Her blood stained the floor and his sword

The Red Krayt Dragon smelled it.

And was pleased.

SOON! SHE WILL BE OURS!

FOREVER!

SHE WILL BE MINE!

Barrok would finish the task he failed years ago.

He brought the blade to his white mouth.

And licked it.

She tasted good.

Very good.

He advanced on her again.

Swords clanging.

Blocking.

A fist to the face.

The lithe body hit the floor.

The Red Krayt Dragon would be pleased.

The Red Krayt Dragon was pleased.

SOON VERY SOON! it called from within.

"Soon...very soon, bitch

"You...are...mine."

The blade came down.

And connected.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The deck rose to greet her as she stumbled and fell beneath his blows, their pure viciousness driving her down. Her blade clattered to the deck as she coughed even more blood out onto the deckplates.

And then pain. Pain the likes of which even the Liquid Silver couldn't block from her already frayed nerves and senses. Pain streaking down her back, from her right shoulder to her lower left side, opening her up and exposing the muscles as they worked beyond their natural means. s'Il cried out, her back arching in utter agony and her hands moving instantly to the new wound before once more falling forward, her hair falling in her face as she knelt in terrible pain.

Not like this.......

s'Il scrambled forward, her sword still in hand as struggled to her feet. She failed; miserably, and crashed to the deck, no longer able to keep a hold of her blade as she writhed in pain. Yet she still felt the drug pumping in her veins. She still felt its hold on her; a hold that would never let her go in her rapidly shortening lifespan.

It would have been nice to be with Taylor for the rest of my life.....

Through her torture she saw the ocean he'd taken her sailing on, on Balmorra; she could even smell the ocean air, hear the birds above and the crashing waves beneath the bow of the ship. She could feel the sun on her once unbroken skin which was now nothing more than a cutting board for Miiki Barrok.

She did her best to sidle away from him, gritting her teeth in her best attempt to shut out the pain. It did no good, and she cried out once more.

I should have known the Reaper would come for me again.... she clawed forward, pulling herself along with bloodstained hands with Barrok leisurely following behind her, no doubt watching her attempts at escape. He doesn't let go of his children that easily....







And then she felt it. That slight lurch; the shudder that meant they'd dropped from hyperspace. And in that moment, the lights flickered on.

In the dark it was hard to discern the blood that seemed to coat the deck and bulkheads, the only indication of it's presence being the stickiness of it beneath ones shoes or a hardly discernable discoloration along the walls and floor. But in the light, it was almost like a butcher's shop; a charnel house. Blood was everywhere.

Loklorien s'Ilancy was dying.

God, MMU, help me....

[MMU]

MMU's internals kicked on......

......and he shrieked in what could only be described as a cry of complete shock and disbelief.

He felt her blood, felt the drops that fell from the walls to the deck, felt them collect in pools. And her felt her dying.

Years ago s'Il had installed a motion sensor device throughout her ship, wiring it to his brain so that he could leterally feel what was happening within him other than strictly relying on the audio and visual aspects of his internals. It was a helpful tool. Right now, it was almost killing him.

He could feel her crawl through his bowels, he could feel her blood coat his inner self.

And he could feel the killer. Feel his stride, feel the air around the blade that had already opened s'Il up on numerous occasions.

MMU shot from the bridge, at the same time accessing his comm. It was a simple message short-burst, aimed for the planet below him; Balmorra, and the space around it.

Kyry he knew, was already there. If not, she had to be about to drop from hyperspace any moment. MMU knew she wanted to size this Grand Admiral Taylor Millard up herself, to see who it was her sister had decided to move off of Yag'dhul for.

[begin transmission]

::I need help..... s'Il is dying......::

[end transmission]

Tearing through the halls, MMU prayed that his cry for help would be heard.

[Miiki Barrok]

He walked forwards, preparing for the killing blow.

The Red Krayt Dragon was pleased.

Just a few more steps...

Then, he felt the ship slow...

His black eyes widened in almost fear.

But the dragon comforted him

SHE IS STILL OURS...

DISABLE THE SHIP...

HURRY! GO NOW!

Slowly now, walking (not running) to disable the ship.

Wait...the bitch.

She must not leave.

"A little something to remember me by" he snarled as he walked past her.

Suddenly he grabbed her head by her blonde hair, speckled in blood.

"Just like, the Red Dragon deemed, you unworthy of your child bearing organs..."

His hand gripped another one of his "Dragon's Claws".

It was clean and smelled fresh.

s'Ilancy smelled of blood.

Pure and cleansing blood.

"You do not need your hair either, wench"

With a smooth swipe, the Red Krayt Dragon removed the smuggler's hair to her shoulders.

He inhaled her scent, smelling flowers and fleece.

It would smell of that no longer.

The Red Krayt Dragon sniffed it again...

Then placed a blood speckled-clump in his white mouth.

It tasted as good as it smelled.

But pleasure later, destroy the ship.

He picked up the sword from the floor, the one s'Ilancy had attempted to defend herself with.

And plunged it into her leg...high enough so she could not reach it.

"Don't go anywhere, whore!"

The he walked from her room, kicking the small metallic droid as it rounded the corner.

He had business elsewhere...the engine room first.

He heard the call of the Red Krayt Dragon and walked on.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il clenched her teeth as she felt Barrok grab her hair. She expected him to slit her throat; to get it over with. To just end the whole thing right now and send her on her way to the Reaper once more. But then again, that wasn't his style; torture was his game. Torture and unending misery.

As his blade sliced through her hair, she reached out, raking her nails down his arm and causing red streaked welts to rise up.

"Gawd damn you, bastard, just kill me and get it over with already!!!"

She scratched him again, but it did no good as he bent down to pick up her fallen sword, and as it flashed through the air, she cried out, clenching her fists and watching in slow motion as the blade came down. She was ready for it; ready for eternal sleep; ready for the release from her agony.

Out of the corner of her eye, towards the far wall of her room, she could just make out the Reaper; standing there in his black robes, the gleaming silver shoulder gaurds making his appearence exceedingly dignified; his majestic horns growing from his head like those of a great horned bantha, peircing black eyes, aquiline nose, and his perfectly shaped mouth set in a mask of not quite approval but certainly not disapproval; he was, after all, reclaiming her. Property that had been stolen from him all those years ago. She could even see the first traces of expectancy on that regal face of his; he wanted her back, and she knew it. He'd welcome her back with open arms, and they'd commune once more in the depths of his world. Soon to be hers as well.

s'Il accepted her fate. The Reaper would be pleased to have her back.

She felt the tip hit the skin of her upper leg, dig in, then drive straight through, slicing the femur with ease and embedding itself enough into the deck to pin her to the ground.

She cried out, arching her spine and flinging her head back. The pain was unbearable and she reached a hand out to the Reaper. She could see him clearly now, and as Barrok left, she watched through tear stained eyes as the Reaper stepped forward, his robes flowing around him like waves as he walked. She looked up at him as he stood over her.

A sob.

He towered over her prone form for a while longer, then knelt down, black pooling around his form, and pulling a hand out from the void of his robes, he tenderly stroked her face.

"You are returning to me; I am pleased. I've missed you."

His touch was cold... and yet, it comforted her. She remembered it from those long years ago; remembered being held in his embrace. Metallic fell into the black of his gaze.

Two of his fingers trailed down her jawline and stopped at the top of the scar on her neck and he brought his face close to hers.

"You have kept my mark," he whispered gently, cupping her chin. "It will be good to have you back..........."

s'Il closed her eyes, swallowing as she felt his hand on her face. Familiar and foreign at the same time.

He slid his other hand behind her head, lifting her up slightly; bringin their faces closer together.

Oh God...

s'Il's eyes radiated agonizing defeat as she gazed at the apparition that had such a hold on her.

"... I missed you..."

The Reaper brushed her lips with his; gently at first, then gripped her freshly cropped hair as he kissed her harder.

Taylor... I......

"...I love you..."

[MMU]

MMU slammed into the wall with Barrok's kick, surprised by the voracity of the man’s kick, and subsequently was caught off guard. He ignored the passing intruder though, as his glowing green eyes fell on s'Il's bleeding and broken body pinned to the deck.

Another terrified squeal, and he scrambled to where she lay.

Lok!! Lok!!

The droid did his best to rouse her, but it did no good. He slapped at her, his little metal hands hitting her on her face, arms, shoulders…… and yet her stark white eyes remained open, staring at something unseen as she remained unresponsive; seemingly unwilling to come back to the solid world.

Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t die…. Please don’t die….

The little avatar buried his head into her bleeding chest, small fists pounding on her body.

You can’t die, you can’t go away…..

....stay with me.....

[Miiki Barrok]

Move fast and quickly...was all on the monster's mind

Down the corridor...

To the right...

Then a left...

It must be somewhere...there!

The Red Krayt Dragon opened the door to his next destination...

The Engine Room of The Rascal King

He paused, finally noticing the claw marks on his arm

"You will pay for that," he said to no one and everyone.

Barrok felt the Red Krayt Dragon move within him, trying to see what to do next.

THE ENGINES...

PLACE THE CHARGES THERE.

DESTROY THE SHIP,

AND YOU BECOME MORE LIKE ME.

The hunter moved again, heading towards one of the engines.

YOU WILL BE FEARED!

DESTROY THEM ALL!

He removed the charge from the compartment of his pants.

The engine room smelled of oil and grease.

Soon, though, fire would burn it all.

He felt the Red Krayt Dragon move again...

Ready to spit its fire and destroy its enemies.

Barrok placed the charge...

Then ran...

Back to the office, covered in blood.

Back to where his prey lay dying...

He felt a rumble as he entered the office...

And smiled a toothy smile...

"Going down," he uttered as he looked at the broken body.

He leaned forward, his face close to s'Ilancy's.

His hot breath on her motionless body.

"I only hope you live through the crash, wench.

"You still owe me your skin..."

Outside...The Rascal King began to fall.

Barrok smiled as the ship fell.

Soon very soon...

His revenge would be complete.

He saw the ground become more visible as he fell...

Inside, the Red Krayt Dragon smiled...

Soon very soon...

And then...The Rascal King hit earth...

[Kyryanu Sevon]

The starlines outside the cockpit of the sleek MandalMotors SkyShark disappeared, replaced by the pinprick starpoints of realspace. The waspish fighter angled left, heading for the planet Balmorra as it hung suspended in space.

At the controls, Kyryanu Nerrot-s’Ilancy observed the planet through jade green eyes, scrutinizing it from a distance. She’d never been to Balmorra, but now was as good a time as any; to see if this Grand Admiral Taylor Millard was good enough for her sister. Lok had said to meet above the planet at this time, and as she waited, Kyry sighed, her prosthetic hand gripping one of the control throttles gently.

This guy better be worth it…

Her eyes flicked to her right, and she watched as The Rascal King came out of hyperspace, flying past her; the engines of the large ship causing the smaller fighter to rattle slightly. Kyry even felt the rumble in her chest; it felt good, the power in Lok’s ship clearly evident in just the way it decelerated from hyper.

The brunette frowned suddenly, her comm beeping, and as her fingers flew over the touch-pad display in front of her, she cursed. It was a distress call from MMU…..

Kyry cried out as she read the last part of the message, and she throttled the fighter forward, racing after the King. And then the larger ship’s engines exploded, sending debris everywhere, and Kyry threw the fighter into a tight roll, dodging chunks of twisted metal as the two craft dove into Balmorra’s atmosphere.

Like dual falling stars they fell towards the earth, burning through the sky on their way down. Kyry kept just above and a little behind the King, watching as MMU tried to level out. It was no use. The large ship kissed the ground ever so lightly, pulling up for a fraction of a second, then plowed nosefirst into the ground.

Kyry watched in disbelief, keeping pace, as the Kingplunged through acres of land, upending a spray of dirt, rock, and grass and leaving a wake of destruction in its path.

Screeching metal reached Kyry’s ears, even through the transparisteel cockpit window, and her jade eyes narrowed as small streams of tears formed. The crippled ship began to slow, and ponderously, painfully even, it came to a halt, dust rising in the air as The Rascal King groaned, settling into the ground.

Even before the landing struts of the fighter touched the ground, Kyry had thrown open the cockpit and jumped out, landing with a roll. She scrambled to her feet, sprinting to the nearest accessible hatch that she could find. Her hands pulled on the emergency release, but it didn’t budge, and she pounded the metal hull of the King. Grasping once more at the handle, she pulled with all of her strength. With a sudden hissing of venting steam, the handle gave way, and the hatch slid open.

Climbing inside, Kyry crawled through the access ducts, dropping silently into a darkened corridor. The lights flickered for a brief second before the secondary batteries kicked in, and falling to her knees, Kyry gasped at the sight she now beheld.

Blood was everywhere: on the decks, the bulkheads, everywhere. She’d never seen such carnage. Composing herself once more, she stood and made her way to Lok’s room.

The door was already open.

As soon as she ran in Kyry immediately wished she hadn’t. It smelled of death, and her eyes fell on the form of a man on the other side of the room; he’d apparently been knocked out during the crash, but she paid him no mind as her jade eyes instantly fell on her sister…..

…..was that her sister?

That bleeding corpse nailed to the deck with a katana? The very katana she, Kyry, had given as a gift?

“Lok,” she choked out, falling to her knees and crawling to where s’Il lay, still as death.

Her sister made no sound; no motion; nothing as Kyry crawled atop her, pulling the blade from her and throwing it across the room.

Her voice rose as she took s’Il by the shoulders. “Lok!”

Nothing.

Anger flashed in Kyry’s eyes. “Damnit, fight back Lok! You’re not dead yet!!” a metal hand slapped s’Il across her blood drenched face. “Not until I say so!! Now fight!!

“Gawd-damnit Lok you bitch!! You’ve never backed down from anything in your whole gawd-damn life now fight!!!! Fight!!!!”

[Miiki Barrok]

From the shadows the monster watched.

He didn't recognize this newcomer...

But something was familiar about her.

Her...scent...

His black eyes, unblinking, widened.

Could it possibly be? he wondered, Another s'Ilancy?

Barrok smiled his toothy grin, as the new s'Ilancy yelled at the old one.

He was still lying on the ground of the now-damaged Rascal King.

Inside of him, the Red Krayt Dragon, every present, hollered to him.

TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE!

DESTROY THE OTHER!

THEN THE FIRST!

The Red Krayt Dragon smiled, then silently got to his feet.

He slipped behind the newcomer, smelling her as he did.

A white hand, marred with red blood, went to touch her.

As she turned around at his touch, the hunter gave her his best 'dragon smile'.

"You don't smell as good as your sister..."

Then his hand shot out and connected with Kyry's jaw.

"FEAR ME!"

[Kyryanu Sevon]

The force of his strike sent Kyry reeling, and she was thrown from her position atop s'Il, skidding along the floor to come to crash against the wall. Shaking her head, she looked up at her assailent, glaring at him through enraged jade eyes.

He was soaked in blood; all of it Lok's....

It was him........ he did all this....

She got to her feet, crouching, and raked metal fingers along the deck before pounding a metal fist down, making a dent in the deck.

"I don't fear anyone, @$$hole..."

She looked at him through insane eyes, already mentally tearing him apart for the atrocity he'd committed.

"I swear; if she's dead, I'll skin you alive and dump you on Nkllon..."

Kyry snarled then, and launched herself at the man, her metal fist coming around in a massive hook headed straight for his face.

"I swear it...."

[Miiki Barrok]

DUCK NOW! the Red Krayt Dragon screamed at Barrok.

The monster ducked, but still was caught by the glancing blow of the metal arm.

He fell back, feeling dazed...

Then the monster smiled...and laughed

"I only hope you taste as good as you fight."

His hand shot out, striking the newer s'Ilancy in the face again.

"You will learn fear.

"You will FEAR ME!"

A blood-soaked hand caught the metal-encassed one as it went for his head.

A toothy smile again.

Then a punch to the stomach and a pull to at the arm.

The sound the metal made as it tore from Kyry's arm reminded the monster of his time on Borelias, when he killed the daughter of the prime minister.

That was fun then...

But this was fun now.

Focus...stay focussed.

"You were going to hit me with this?'

The metal arm smacked the younger s'Ilancy in the face.

The Red Krayt Dragon shook his head as he hit her again.

"You don't smell as good as Silver-Eyes

"But the Red Krayt Dragon will find a use for you...

"He always does."

He threw her to the ground.

Now...for the one he came for.

The monster took a step towards s'Ilancy...

Pleasure...has its own rewards.

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Shock. Utter shock.

She felt the pain scream through her senses as he ripped her arm off. She felt steel encased veins literally pop off, tearing from her flesh with a sickening sound. Her blood flowed freely then, freed from the metal veins within the prosthetic, and she clutched the stump.

She wasn't even able to recover before he delivered another blow....

.... with her own prosthetic.

The metal hit her face with enough force to rock her back, and he threw her down. She got to her knees, leaning forward in pain while doing her best to stop the flowing blood as it fell from what was left of her arm to the floor, joining the life fluids of her sister.

She watched through crazed eyes as he moved closer to her sister.

"No!! Damnit you freak, get the hell away from her!!"

Kyry stumbled to her feet, still holding her bloodied arm while steeling herself for another bout.

She growled, the launched herself at him once again.

[Miiki Barrok]

He batted her aside with the metal arm.

"GOOD...DESTROY HER!

THEN TAKE HER AS YOUR OWN!"

The monster smiled.

He liked it when the Red Krayt Dragon gave him treats.

And Kyry was certainly a treat.

It reminded him of s'Ilancy, with exoticness oozing from her.

This one was not as tough as her sister.

But she did not reek of blood and drugs.

She was clean.

Pure.

And ripe for the picking

"You are destined for failure whore!" he screamed at the darker s'Ilancy.

He threw a 'Dragon's claw' right at her stomach.

He turned.

And heard a thunk.

"Pity the poor dear," he said to the dragon.

"She was rather cute.

"Her eyes...they were a nice color..."

The Red Krayt Dragon ground a foot into Kyry's face.

Making sure she would not rise.

He would have his fun with her later on.

But first...

The one he came for.

The one who escaped.

The 'Silver-eyed Butcher'...

She was his.

He was hers.

And the Red Krayt Dragon ruled them all.

The monster smiled as he pulled out another 'Dragon's Claw'.

But this was one special.

It was his 'peeling claw'.

He gave a toothy smile and gazed upon s'Ilancy's bloody, battered body.

Then he ran the blade down her shirt...

He saw the scar.

And smiled.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"You will be mine..."

And then he made a small cut...

At the base of her neck.

For old times sake.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt the tip of the blade slice open her old wound; blood instantly pooling out to cover her already bloodied chest. The pain wrenched her from the Reaper's kiss, and her eyes bulged as she gasped; blood traveling up through her throat and choking her as it came out her mouth. She felt the blade begin to slice an already traveled path as it slowly made its way down the front of her body, and she shook her head violently from side to side, flinging blood specks everywhere.

And then the overdose hit. The massive amounts of the drug in her system pounded through her veins like a jackhammer, and she cried out in new agony. White began to ooze from her eyes.

White tears of death.

Even the wounds she'd sustained began to bleed white; including the scar that was being reopened. White drained from her ears and nose, and she coughed; white flecked blood issuing forth.

s'Il could see the Reaper; he'd moved behind Barrok, and was staring down at her.

"Make... him... stop... " she barely choked out, her voice hoarse and almost inaudible, "... please... "

The Reaper only shook his head, his black eyes closing. "You know I can not do that."

"Please..."

She threw her head back and screamed in utter torment, feeling as the blade slowly; ever so carefully, took her life away.

She felt it again; felt her body shutting down, ceasing to function, and vainly reached an arm up, bloody fingers leaving a crimson trail down Barrok's face as they slid from his forehead to his chin...

... then to the deck.

Lifeless.

[Miiki Barrok]

"The bitch bleeds white," the monster smiled.

"Good...

"I will enjoy this....immensely."

He black eyes shone as he began his cuts.

Simple.

Easy.

"YES!

"BECOME LIKE ME!

"KILL HER!

"MAKE HER FEAR YOU!"

Barrok slowly began opening the wound.

Peeling the skin.

Smelling the blood, mixed with drugs.

It was wonderfully sweet.

And then he heard it.

Four men.

Their voices mechanical.

Lifeless.

They called for him to stop.

Then gasped at the blood and ichor.

The mechanical arm discarded.

The women bleeding.

The droid unmoving.

And the Red Krayt Dragon triumphant.

He did not need to say it, but he did anyway.

"FEAR ME!"

And they did.

"KILL THEM!

"KILL THEM NOW!" the Red Krayt Dragon yelled at him.

He needed no other urging.

Barrok did not needs drugs to keep him going.

No...he only needed the dragon.

The dragon who urged him on.

Called to him.

Denied him.

And pushed him through his life.

The monster moved quickly.

Avoiding the blaster bolts as they moved past him.

He grabbed the first by his helmetted head...

Turning it sideways...

Feeling the man go limp.

The Red Krayt Dragon gave him strength...

The helmet's eye holes were almost as black as his own eyes.

He ripped the helmet off.

Seeing the man underneath.

Barrok was gentle to him.

He only cut his throat.

The Red Kray Dragon gave him courage.

The other two attacked from behind.

Their white armor gleaming.

He ripped the arm off one...

Then impaled the next with a sword.

No more attackers.

He was alone...

With his prize.

His pink tongue ran across his white lips, like a lizard...

Like a dragon.

Could he have breathed fire he would...

But alas it was not to be.

Not yet at least.

His feet, the black stockings soaked in blood, began walking

Towards the prize.

The little droid...

Still dedicated to its former master, stood attempting to block him.

But his little body was not enough.

The hunter was close.

He could feel it.

He was becoming The Red Krayt Dragon.

Where to finish cutting?

The eyes.

Those white orbs, crying white tears.

So different from his own black ones.

"CUT THERE!

"SAVE THEM!

THEY ARE YOURS!"

Oh so pretty.

They were his...

His alone...

He smiled a his evil, toothy smile.

Then...

"Good evening."

Another intruder.

From behind.

The monster turned...

Then blinked...

He saw black...

Like a cloak...

And red...

Like a rose...

And then...

He barely felt the Harpy...

A simple puff of air, as the blade whisked by him...

Then he felt the air come out of his neck...

And the blood pour from the wound.

He gasped...

"Help...me..."

And then saw white as he fell...

The white of...

A uniform?

Barrok felt the cool floor on his back,

And the blood as it oozed...

He smelled Liquid Silver

And blood

And oil

And flowers

The Red Krayt Dragon moved within him...

Trying to rise...

Then failing as the air left him...

"Save...me...

"Help...me...

"Fear...me..."

The Red Krayt Dragon moved within Miiki Barrok...

And he blinked again...

Then laid still...

[Taylor Millard]

"LOK!" Millard yelled as he raced past Barrok's body.

Concern shone on his cold blue eyes, as he stared at Loklorien s'Ilancy's prone form on the metal of The Rascal King.

He stared down at her, then took a knee, pulling his comlink from his belt.

"I need a medical team here NOW! We've got wounded. Get a trauma unit and plenty of bacta patches!"

For once, Taylor felt helpless. He pulled a bacta patch from the medical kit he had brought with him, when he saw The Rascal King fall from space like a meteor.

He'd originally thought it was a meteor...then got word of the distress signal.

Millard had ordered a squad of stormtroopers, all dead now, to investigate the crash while he and Thomas took the fastest moving shuttle they could.

When the duo had reached the remains of the ship, fixable by his initial views, they saw what appeared to be an armored encased arm laying on the sand near the entrance.

The Dark Jedi had quickly weaved an illusion of Wargrave, then entered the ship.

When he saw Barrok, he attacked quickly- severing his throat with a knife he found in one of s'Ilancy's display cases.

Now he bent over her, wishing he could do something more for her.

He then heard the crash of glass, and saw Thomas standing above Barrok, his crimson robes flowing.

It was then the Imperial Guardsman did something Millard had never seen him do...curse.

"Admiral?" Thomas said after he'd let out his string of curses at the sight of the carnage.

"See to the woman in the corner, Thomas," Millard somehow kept his voice calm, "I'll see to Madame s'Ilancy."

He pressed his right fingers against the side of her throat, feeling for a pulse. It was slow and abnormal.

Millard felt tears form in his eyes as he stared at the bleeding, pasty smuggler.

"Lok..." he choked, staring at the LS as it poured from her wounds, "Don't die on me...please..."

Taylor held Loklorien close...

"I need you...please...

He wouldn't let go.

"I...love you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She coughed white and red blood, maddening white eyes unseeing as she fell into death; it was welcoming her once again into its arms. And yet, through everything; the pain, the agony, and the torture, she heard his voice.

She felt him hold her, clutching her body in the desperate attempt to stop her from joining the Reaper.

His words reached her as though they'd been whispered through a tunnel, and she fought her way back; if only for a moment.

One hand grasped at his rank plate while the other gripped a gold colored eapulette, and her white eyes seemed to focus as she clawed her way back the world of the living.

Her blood stained his once pristine white uniform, and she let out one last bloodied sob.

"I'm... so... sorry... "

She was falling back into the darkness, her hands losing their strength and she let go of him, her head lolling back. Her body had gone numb, but the pain was still there; the pain of her reopened scar. It followed her as she sank back, and looking past Millard, she saw the Reaper step forward, his hand outstretched.

"Come... "

s'Il lifted a hand, and it passed through Taylor's shoulder, grasping the Reaper's, and he pulled her up. She felt herself pass through Taylor, then turned to look down on him. She cried then; not tears of white, but real tears, tasting of salt.

"Taylor..."

His declaration had shaken her to her core, and as she watched him hold her, she knelt next to him. She wanted to touch him more than anything; to embrace him....

Instead she ran an ethereal finger down the length of his jaw as he held her broken body close.

"I love you too..... "

Her words were simple and gentle.

s'Il felt the Reaper's hand come to rest on her shoulder. It chilled her.

"Come, we need to go."

s'Il didn't move.

"I'm staying here."

She clenched her teeth.

"I'm not dead yet."

[Taylor Millard]

"Where's the damn medic!" Millard cursed himself, feeling control slip from him as he cradled s'Il in his arms. His uniform was quickly becoming ruined, but for once the Imperial Grand Admiral did not care. His thoughts were on the pale, bleeding body in his arms.

Loklorien s'Ilancy was dying...and Millard would be damned if she did.

"Come on Lok...come back to me...please..."

It was like when his brother died. He saw Trent lying there, dying from the wounds suffered at the hands of his former Master in the Templis Cult. His brother's dying face stared up at him...pleading with him.

Save me!

Millard wasn't going to let s'Il die.

He heard sounds behind him. The medics had finally arrived.

"Get her to a bacta chamber now! Counter-act her wounds."

The black garbed medic nodded, then started placing more bacta patches on the smuggler's battered body. Another went to Kyry and began treating her as well, saying she only suffered a concussion and would be fine.

MMU stood there silently...then clenched Millard's leg as if to say, "Thank you."

Millard's cold blue eyes stared down at the little droid.

"Where...were...you?"

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and boarded the transport with the medics and the woman he now realized...he loved.

He traced her bloodied cheek with his hand and murmmered again, "I love you Lok."

[Kyryanu Sevon]

Kyry pushed the medic away, scrambling to her feet as best she could while still cradling her bleeding stump. She'd watched as Grand Admiral Taylor Millard held her sister, and she had to keep herself from crying out when s'Il half rasped/half choked out an apology.

She was watching her sister die.

Again.

This isn't fair...

She followed the Grand Admiral and the medics carrying her sister, and storming out of Lok's crashed vessel, she climbed aboard the shuttle.

"Get the hell away from me," she snarled at the medic as he tried to tend to her arm, swatting his hands away. She cast enraged jade eyes at Millard, then Lok.

She watched as he stroked her sister's face....

.... then as soon as his hand pulled away, she slapped Lok across the cheek.

"Gawd-damnit you bitch you're not dying," she barked.

[Taylor Millard]

Millard grabbed Kyry's hand before it came down on s'Ilancy's face.

"That's enough from you," he barked, his cold blue eyes glaring into her jade one, "I will not let Lok die. She is someone I care for.

"You're injured yourself, put on a bacta patch and I will make sure you get your arm replaced."

He glared at her again, then waited in silence as the transport made its way towards the Imperial compound.

As they exitted to the hospital wing, a trauma unit moved to block Millard and Kyry from entering the black hospital. A glare from the two of them, told the unit they'd better get to taking care of the one they both loved, although in different ways.

THey both stood there as s'Ilancy was placed in the bacta tank, standing there while the bacta began working its magic on the smuggler's battered and broken body.

Millard watched and waited, not leaving Lok's side as her body bobbed in the bacta tank. He left Ned Stark in charge while s'Ilancy recovered...receiving news of the attack on Coruscant and Darth Viscera's fleet leaving for the Unknown Regions. This was roughly an hour after he came back from rescuing s'Ilancy.

He sent word to Lord Viscera, offering his services...but heard nothing, after ten hours.

Personally...Millard was glad he didn't. He wanted to be with s'Ilancy...and he knew it.

As he waited for the report on the attack...Ned Stark raced into the medbay. He was breathless and his hat was askew.

"Speak Captain," Millard said still staring at s'Ilancy's figure.

"We did what you said and checked out The Rascal King for the attacker's body."

"Yes?"

"Well...the odd thing is..." Stark looked nervous, "It's not there..."

Millard, his mental state a bit frayed, still kept his calm, "What do you mean...'not there?'" he raised a brown eyebrow for emphasis.

"It's just gone...like the body got up and walked away. We sent a team of heavily armed stormtroopers to the crash site...

"There no one there."

[Miiki Barrok]

He sat in his seat...watching as the stars streaked by in hyperspace.

The Red Krayt Dragon had saved him again,

Healing his wounds as he lay on the cold floor of The Rascal King.

The monster sat, drinking warm tea.

He felt a little bit of it filter through his neck, as the wound still had yet to fully heal.

Inside his healing body,

The Red Kray Dragon moved.

"YOU FOOL!

"YOU SHOULD HAVE KILLED HER WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE!

"NOW...SHE LIVES!

"AND THERE IS SOMEONE BETTER THAN YOU!

"BUT YOU WILL RISE AGAIN!

"I WILL SEE TO IT!

"THEY WILL FEAR YOU...

"AS YOU FEAR ME!"

The hunter listened to the master as it cried.

And he smiled.

He would succeed.

He would win.

And Loklorien s'Ilancy would die.

He pondered these things as the ship went through hyperspace.

s'Ilancy would soon learn...

She would learn to fear him.

Barrok promised this...

The Red Krayt Dragon vowed this...

And the ship sped off to parts unknown...