Through the Eyes of a Snack

[Nathanial K'cansce]

OOC: Open, yes. But please do PM me before joining in. I have a purpose for this thing. Thank ya. Oh, and a disclaimer: this is purely based on how Snack saw everything, and based on his observations, his thoughts on everything.


IC:


*It was gone. It was all gone. And he could not do a thing about it. He had sat upon his high horse, a top the masses, on his luxurious council chair, and watched it as it crumbled before him. Never made a move to pick up the pieces, nor to stop them from falling. He saw it way before it started its chain reaction, yet still he did nothing. And now it was gone. And most of those he knew and considered allies where gone with it....

The past few months had been hell. He returned to the Sith Empire's homestead after his hard fought battle against a new series of war droids.. a Reploid... one that had a very familiar presence controlling it. The man had healed up quite nicely after a few days in the bacta tank and a day of meditation and rest. The days off were short lived, though. Upon returning to his duties of the Council, all hell broke lose. First was the departure of the Lupine Sith Lord, Vega Van Derveld, to the Dark Jedi sect of the Black Hand. Dissent grew immediately as those who were close to the Van Derveld family stood their ground, trying to defend the former Sith Lord and their friend and mentor from those who had banished him upon here the treachery. Lana Westbrooke, after a few months of being missing in action, came back with none other than Vega, her former lover, and told a tale of how she had no idea who she was, or what she wanted in life, but knew that the Sith Empire was not her home anymore. That was all fine, but the fact that Vega had come with her wrote out treachery and dissent loud and clearly. At least to those who had strong feelings on the matter.

Snack didn’t share those strong emotions. He meant to ask her questions then and there, but she was shunned and escorted out before he could mutter a solitary syllable. However, after the mighty fall of the Sith Empire, Lord Snack did find out where she was living and visited her, asking his questions that probably would have saved a lot of people some headaches and maybe.. Just maybe even the Empire.

But nothing could have saved the Empire. Not after what happened next. The Council booted two long standing members from their ranks: Sith Knight Sieken Kastra and Sith Warrior Blade Ice. And not even a day or so later, Sith Knight Even Siren upped and left due to how her friends, Lana and Vega, were treated when they ‘were kicked out’. Other members were seeing this, and began losing faith in the Council. Everything we (the Council) had said were seen as lies, and everything we did was seen as double crossing it’s own members.

War broke out.

One Snack did not want a part of. He left Montu Cudro to visit Lana before it all started, and then headed for his home world of Cayss. A place where he could go and stay, think about his own life and the course of the Force within the universe. A place where he could leave the Empire behind. A place where he could go an die.*

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*The Cayssian midmorning sky was bright blue and void of clouds. The distant star of Cahl IV, beat down its rays of light onto Cayss's atmosphere, heating the small sized planet below. It was a beautiful day, a tad on the hot side, but other than that the day was off to a great start.

Snack was not included in this day, however. He was anything but bright and sun-shiny. Inside his three story house was gloomy and rainy, with a Low center of rotation around Snack's personal quarters. His bed room.

In his hand was a ball, about the same size and weight of a baseball. The Dark Lord looked it over, rotating it in his hand until it came back to its starting point. The object was hard... hard enough to knock someone out if it struck them in the head. Hard enough to break bones if struck in the arms or chest. If struck with it in the back of the neck, it could kill. Yet, on it's own, it was a harmless round thing.

Laying on his back in his bed, he began tossing it up in the air, and then catching it as it came back down towards his face. There was not much for the once busy ex-Council member to do, and playing catch with himself was more than enough entertainment to surpass his boredom. But it got boring day in and day out. Sulking in his room, tossing the ball in the air and catching it before he breaks his nose. It left much time for his mind to wander around, which was never a good thing. And considering what it always ended up producing...

It was always the same thing. At least lately. A quiet voice in his head telling him, that this was the right thing to do. That leaving before the mud flew was the right step. Soothing his worries that he turned his back on yet another family.

Too many times he had been left behind, walked out on, and left who he considered his family. And here this tiny voice was telling him it was all right. That the will of the Force was behind this.. that this was his destiny.

JUST SHUT UP!!

It felt so wrong. He vowed allegiance and loyalty to the Empire. And that took him far. He also believed himself to be an honorable man.. and one who never considered himself a Sith. So this should have been the right move. Maybe it was, but there was no honor in what Snack had done. He left his loyalties, and shot his own words to nothingness when he left. It was wrong, so why was something trying to tell him it was right? It was not who Snack was as a person...*

Gah!

*He tossed the ball once more into the air, sat up, and caught it firmly in his right hand. He looked at it once more, drew his arm back and threw it as hard and as fast as he could, aimed for the wall. The ball hit, making a sickening cracking sound as it splintered the wall. It passed through, pushing wood chips out of its way in all directions, finally dropping in the center of the floor in the next room.

This was too much. He needed his saber, and needed it now.*

[Ilyarna]

"Crikey!"

An inch to the left and the former dancer would have had a ball sized hole in the middle of her head.

Thats it!

She had been keeping her distance from her new owner for quite some time now. His mood was angry and brooding and Ilyarna was quite terrified he may just kill her to lift his spirits.

It had been so hard to make herself avoid him and she had been forced to watch him from a distance. Hiding behind cupboards (the big ones) and peeking around corners. He was so beautiful..even when he was mad. She wished she could hug him and squeeze him and cuddle all the bitterness out of him.

She may as well set her sights on becoming the newest Sith Mastermind of all the Universe as that happening.

Still - Ilyarna was an eternal optimist and could never really leave off hoping and wishing for long.

Picking up the ball that had rolled to a stop against the far wall, she walked over and tapped lightly on Snack's door as she softly let herself in.

"Did you loose this Master Snack?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Lose? No. Missed my mark? Yes.

*He answered, barely catching the sight of his slave. Not that he could miss her. She took up more than what his vision could handle when he did look at her. Though he really did try not to. It was bad enough being in a cranky mood all the time, being sick would only worsen his crankiness.

Ilyarna did have her uses though. She kept the house near spotless, and cooked up many tasteful dishes. That, and she provided someone to talk to and to rant to. No, he would never kill her, but Lord Snack had fun making her think he would. Regrettably, he glanced over at her direction and all of her pros turned to cons once more. He would have to pay Hera a visit for dumping this load on him, whether it be in this life or the afterlife.

Groaning, Snack shook his head and sat up. He reached for the metallic cylindrical hilt on his dresser close to his bed and picked it up. Smirking, he thumbed the power switch, watching the teal blade elongate. Rotating his wrist causing the blade to turn from vertical to horizontal to vertical again, his smirk widened. Finally, he looked back up to Ilyarna, his eyes filled with evil intentions.*

Good bye.

[Ilyarna]

Her eyes widened to saucers in fear as Snack twirled the blade and she inched gingerly to the edge of the bedend hoping it to offer some form of protection.

"I, I was just wondering if you were...er..hungry perhaps? I can make you some flat-cakes if you like."

He hadnt thrown the dagger yet, so she took courage.

"I'll top them with some Yavin boysenberry syrup - its delicious."


He glared at her.

"Im worried about you, Master. You...You look too thin to me."

And he did too. Most the humans in this galaxy were grossly underweight to her mind and she wondered how they lived so long in such skinny bodies.

She had come into DarthSnacks service some time ago - given over to be judged and punished by him as he saw fit by her former mistress Hera DrenKast. Ilyarna has pickpocketed Snacks wallet and as proved to be most forticious, he hadnt killed her outright. She had been caught because she was foolish enough to try spend his TSE MasterCard in the same place as she stole it. A dumb mistake. As it turned out it was the best mistake Ilyarna had ever made.

She was never more happier. Despite the living in constant fear and trepidation of a horribly cruel death at the hand of Snack. Aside from that - life was bliss.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*All Snack could do was stare at her, his head sort of kinked, with a "what the hell have you been smoking?" look. Was she trying to butter him up to spare her life? No need, really. Her life was not the one in danger. His was. And it had nothing to do with him being 'too skinny'. Or at least what someone of her stature thought of as too skinny. He thought himself just fine.*

A last meal before an ultimate doom? Trust me -- You don't need one.

And neither do I...

*Sure there were better ways to take one's life or have it be taken from him. Ways of the warrior slain by another. Being shot by some lucky hotshot. But at least this way, it can be said that no one but Snack could kill himself. True power.

He twirled his saber again, straightening his face as seriousness and acceptance overcame it. His saber twirling stopped, and he positioned the teal beam of plasma of his weapon close to his neck.*

Tell Hera to give Ogre a message from me: "I'm sorry I was a failure."

*With those being his last words, Snack closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath air.*

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Whispers. Everything whispered; and not just those sentient beings that were capable of voicing these dormant thoughts. The Force was contained in all existing creatures. And all that lived, whispered.

These murmurs were not made consciously, as a relatively small proportion of those tainted by humanity were sensitive to this omnipresent power. No; very few indeed were cursed with the ability to hear. To be alert to every heartbeat - not physical, but of the inner core. To be compelled to listen. To be deafened.

As is the way of all words hushed and secreted, the whispers gradually elevate into a persistent itch, constantly grinding away at your own judgment until the two can no longer be discerned. It is then that one becomes so influenced that he grows curious as to what these enduring rumors actually speak of.

Taja was one such individual who heard. Not only that, but she listened. She heeded the summons, for their calls now were ones many around her had already answered.

The call for home.

Except, she no longer knew where this was; her Master resided on the planet of Meras with her family - something which Taja lacked. Then there were her siblings of the Hand, on their world of Vjun. Neither could, however, satiate that hunger she had recently begun to feel. The craving to discover her ancestry.

And what better place to start than Cayss? Its location was not information publicly available, but she was no foreigner to this world. This small, uncharted planet had at one time been closely associated with Taja's home planet of Tvangeste. That is, until the Alliance disbanded.

Tvangeste had separated in order to evade a possible Sith invasion, opting instead to concede to their wishes voluntarily. This ended its close ties with Cayss, but many of her relations chose to remain behind. It was for this reason, to trace back her lineage, that Taja had come here.

Having secured her ship at a nearby dock, the Dark Jedi briskly paced through the streets in a residential area, eerily silent even at this hour.

[Jared Mriad]

A Failure? A voice, masculine, spoke in Snacks' mind followed by a scoffing laugh. Outside, on the windowpane, a cat sat with glowing green eyes. One would wonder how one had gotten up there.


Belive me, Master. You are far from such, The cat spoke again, but in a bar within the small village. A cloaked figure spoke, although no words came forth from it's mouth. Only distinquishing feature shown by the darkness of the cloak was a tattoo on the side of it's face. That of a dragon.

Put the saber down, before you end up dropping it on yourself...

[Ilyarna]

Rushing forward in blind fear and panick, Ilyarna scooped Snack forward into a huge embrace - oblivious to how close the lightsaber came to slicing off her meaty arm. The dancer enveloped the Sith in her generous folds of flesh and squeezed him to her chest.

"Noooo!"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*The words of his apprentice were all but too late. Though distracting and delaying the inevitable, the deed was still going to get done. His eyes shot a glare towards the cat sitting out on the windowpane.

That's what stopped him. With eyes diverted, Snack's overly buoyant slave waddled as fast as she could and embraced the Dark Lord in a hug. The shock had caused Snack to accidently thumb the power switch of his saber, which now was on the floor next to his feet.*

For the love of all things decent kill me now!

*He reached out and grabbed hold of the Force, sending it ramming into the ex-dancer. She flew back a foot or two, landing on her plump back side shaking the house. Any normal being would have flown into the wall across the room.. but yeah. Ilyarna was definitely not normal.

Quick to stand, Snack shot another glare towards the cat that sat there, quietly licking it's paw. He threw his left hand out towards the window, grasping more control over the elemental sides of the Force. In a blink of an eye, the fur along the cat's back erupted into flames. It first started in the middle of the back, where the spark began and triggered the other molecules into created more sparks, causing the fire.

Snack then dropped to his knees, his fit of rage passing by.*

Why won't you just let me die...

[Jared Mriad]

As the overly large slave embraced Snack, Jared coughed on his whiskey, OH geeze, the horror! he thought as the cat turned it's gaze to the two then returned to licking it's paw.

Jared's connection with the cat suddenly was shredded as it's will power overdominated Jared's little control trick as it's hair burst into flames and caused it to jump strieght up into the air in surprise and then jumped to it's death from the windowseal.

Shrugging, and finishing off the drink in one last gulp. The Ex-Empire Warrior stood from his seat and began to head for the door when the bartender halted him.

"Hey' Buddy, You fergot' to pay fer' your drinks," he spoke, putting a hand out and hoping to receive the payment. Jared looked down at the hand and removed a wrapped package from within the arm folds of the black robe. Placing the package in the bartender's hand and then walking off, Jared grinned under the hood as the bartender screamed aloud and dropped the package before backing away horrified.

The Sith had handed the bartender a burnt heart wrapped in pastic which was going to be a 'Hello' present for a certain Jedi, but nevermind that for this moment.

The house wouldn't be hard to find, Jared knew the route already (save for a few turns and jumps which the cat could fit into) plus the signature of his Master radiated quite loudly after the feline's demise.

The cloaked cannibal took left and rights, ran then walked or jumped rooftops if need be to traverse the Village until he came within seeing distance of the outskirts of town. Leaping down onto the streets below without a sound, he came up to a two story manor with a charred and still burning remains of a feline roasting on the corner.

Staying quiet, Jared just waited.

[Ilyarna]

Seeing the cat burst into flames, hearing its frightful yeowlings of agony, together with the rough toss received from Snack, Ilyarna sat where she landed and began to cry. Her tears streamed down her chubby cheeks and her voice lifted in a woeful wail of terror and hurt.

She was frightened and she couldnt understand all that was happening. There was so much she didnt know about her Master. If only he would let her help.

The thought birthed a new wave of unhappy sobs.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

--------Several Weeks Earlier------------


The dust had setteled, and all was said and done. Where the Sith Empire's Headquaters had once stood was now lined with fallen rocks, and peices of wood and metal. Ruins. Not a soul left here, yet there were corpses. Dozens of them... most of which were hired mercanaries.

As the sun began to rise, the environment was completely still, and silent... except for the shifting of stone. There was a loud grinding noise, as a pile of rubble moved, and colapsed in every direction but inward.... revealing a survivor. The man breathed heavily, and stood as best he could. His leg was broken, shattered in several places. He parked himself on a particularly large stone, and looked around. In his gaze, he began to think to himself...

Those bastards.... what have you done?!?!?

The man stood again, and located where the medbay had once been. Using what he could find, he made a table, and found quite a few painkillers. He practicly poured the whole bottle of pills down his throat, and layed down. His eyelids grew heavy, and he slept. While he slept, he changed. His leg healed, or seemed to, and the pain went away. He also dreamed.... or were they memories? They came in fragments, broken shards.

--------------------------
~"We're being attacked! Hundreds of them!"

"Help! ,Tempi-"

There was death, nothing but it. Mercanaries, hired by usurpers who lingered in the Empire. Sleepers who waited untill somthing happened. Worthless.~
-------------------------

Without warning, this man awoke again. He didn't think it possible, espically with all the pills he had just taken, but his hate wouldn't let him die. His hate for the men and women who had stabbed the Empire in the back. The first people they struck were the leaders, then worked their way down. Systematic killers, had this in the works for years.

He had a splitting headache, it felt like he had been burried alive, beneath tons of dirt and stone. It wasn't all that far off.

The knight wandered off, able to walk again by this time, to a secluded place, where he could be alone.... To his ship. Morphling was meraculiously intact still, which baffeled him to no end. He climbed into the cockpit, and after hours of sorrow and emotional venting, he finally decided it was time to stop brooding over the past, and start avenging it.


---A Week Passes. Killing Spree Takes Place, and passes.---


Somehow, Tempist found himself on Cayss, with his ship wrecked. Amazing what will happen when someone steals the landing equipment when in flight.

He began to wonder, in what looked to be a township. There were a few familiar force signatures here, but he didn't aknowlage any of them. They weren't important to him right now, not who he was looking for, not who he thinks needs to be punished. He hadn't even realized who he now stood face to face to, an old aquaintance. At one point, he had called her an alie, perhaps even a 'friend'. He kept his formality short, and to the point.

"......hello Taja."

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Taja swiveled around on her heels at the call of her name, and her hazel eyes instantly widened in recognition of the man that stood before her. Something comparable to gladness wavered across her unfeeling gaze and the corners of her lips faintly curled upward.

"Tempist!"

The expression was quenched as immediately as it had formed; his tone of voice ensured that. She had not seen him since before her public denunciation of the Sith ways, not even during her brief visit to the Empire with the Dark Lord Vega - shortly before its fall. And yet, from the Knight's mannerisms now, it was obvious that his sentiments toward her reflected those of her former peers upon her resignation.

Nevertheless, Taja harbored no personal qualms against her once comrade. She had been heading for the town library to search for her details of her genealogy, but more than welcomed the interruption. Whether or not this feeling would be returned was yet to be seen.

"So what brings you here?"

She asked this cautiously; Tempist had no reasons of his own to employ violence, but many members of the disbanded Empire were willing to blame even their one-time associates for the sake of compensating for personal losses.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

The Empire had been everything to Tempist, it was the one thing he had like a family. Taja had once been part of his family, but left with little animosity, and he had nothing against her personally. The fact that he had found her here was a fantastic coincidence, even if simply in the matter of seeing someone he knew and didn't hate, still living. A rare moment where he could show a small smile.

"A few scores to settle, a few wrongs that must be set right. And you?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Oh suck it up...

*He glanced twice over at Ilyarna, watching her sob out loud. Snack hated seeing anyone cry. Sure, it was a valid expression of emotions, but it was not the warriors's way. And Snack was a warrior.

Yet Ilyarna was not. Shaking his head in his own self-pity, the Dark Lord walked over and held out an open hand. He helped the plump servant up. Why oh why did he have a heart? All of Ogre's training could not have killed what humane morals Snack still clung to. That is probably why he has never considered himself a Sith, and refuses to call himself one. And also why he had yet to master Force moves that other's his rank, and lower, have been able to grip and understand.*

I'm sorry...

*It was all he could say to her.*

...I've just have had a lot on my mind.. and at times the Darkness is so overpowering that I lose control over most all of my will...

And I just don't know what to do anymore.

*His eyes were glossed over and lost in thought, much like a young boy's would be after hearing why the sky is blue. He felt Jared's distinct presence come nearer, but it did nothing to draw the Lord's mind from where it was... er.. not was.*

[Ilyarna]

For a frightful moment Snack though Ilyarna would embrace him again, but the large dancer restrained herself, and the warrior was spared.

Her lower lip was still quivering, but the unexpected kindness of her Master went a long way to restoring her happy state of mind.

"Maybe you should talk to your teacher, or leader person."

Ilyarna hadnt a clue about master/apprentice thing. She had no interest in such things and never tried to even understand them. But she had witts enough to know Snack was coming to the end of his rope and and she wanted desperately to help him somehow.

Maybe if she told him she loved him?? No, no - that would just make him toss her to the wall again. Think, think.

"What about an old friend? That might help - get some advice or something."

She stood back a pace, trying to be not such a nuisance.

"Its not good to be on your own now."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

My Master?

*He shook his head.*

His opinion would be tainted...

*Snack paused, as if he were in thought.*

My Master and the Empire... had a falling out of sorts. Besides, I can't go to my Master with all of my problems. Part of learning is doing stuff and figuring stuff out on your own.

*But Ilyarna was right. Snack did need some form of guidance, though his Master could not help him. Maybe a close friend? All of his close friends were apart of the Empire. And Horus... well Horus would be intown. Though he was no where to be found.*

Maybe...

*The Dark Lord began to speak, then trailed off. All he had was this delusional thing that that it was a dancer. And his apprentices. Though the only one who seemed to have made it out of whatever had gone down was Jared.*

Maybe...

[Jared Mriad]

JAred sensed that his Master was abit... off.. or somthing. The door to the manor was locked tight, and sheer common sence bade him from unlocking it and entering univited. So, He just knocked.

Bam Bam Bam

[Ilyarna]

Ilyarna jumped at the sudden and unexpected banging on the door and a small frightened squeak slipped passed her lips.

Belatedly she drew a chubby hand to her mouth and her large eyes rolled towards her Master.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*Snack nodded his head towards the door.*

Aren't you going to answer it?

[Ilyarna]

Obediently, she turned toward the door and taking care to look into the visor-cam to see who was outside (not that it mattered, she would never recognise anyone of Snacks associates) she then opened it up.

Standing back a step so the visitor could clearly be seen by her Master, Ilyarna waited to see if she should invite him in.
Waiting for Snack to respond made her nervous...she hoped he didnt leave the decision to her. She found it hard to make decisions on her own. Much easier to just do what she was told.

Fortunately, she had broken a sweat needlessly. Her Master motioned for the man to enter.

[Jared Mriad]

Jared stepped in far enough for the door to shut behind him, without moving further he bowed deeply in respect to his Master before him,

"Greetings, Master Snack."

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Her eyebrows knitted together for a brief moment, then dissolved as quickly as the frown had appeared. Why question the fact that he hadn't come for the sake of exacting some unknown revenge?

In answer to his query, she gave a small but nervous laugh.

"Just trying to find myself, who I am ... you know. The usual."

Taja continued down the pavement once Tempist was by her side and again became absorbed in her own thoughts. The pair walked in silence for some minutes until they approached a fork in the road. To the left there stood neat little rows of suburban duplexes; to the right, somewhat more uptown residences.

She paused suddenly and her head darted up. The Sith turned to her, possibly to inquire whether she was lost, when Taja nodded toward the right path and resumed her pace. Although her curiosity had not earned many favors in the past, there was a strangely familiar presence radiating from this area and the empath was compelled to follow its trail, even if it meant diverting from her original route. Perhaps it would abet her search with some knowledge.

After a while, she raised her head to look up at Tempist and asked casually, "Do you know anybody from around this place?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I hope you like Cayssian Cat: char-boiled, not grilled.

*He said, nodding his head to Jared as he entered his home. Even though he knew Jared was here since he first saw the cat, it did confuse him as to why exactly.

Snack's face turned into a serious facade, his eyes never leaving that of his Apprentice's.*

What are you doing here, Jared?

[Jared Mriad]

"Quite simple: There was no where else to go, TSE's in ruins along with my vessel, and I thought perhaps you would enjoy the company in your... distressed.. state," The warrior replied, calm and collectively and leaving out the details about his recent enrollment into another facility.

"By, do tell, what means did you fry my cat?" This came out with a small smirk hinting at a joke..

[Nathanial K'cansce]

I sneezed.

*He said, looking his Apprentice up and down. Something else was on the Warrior's mind, though whatever it was, Snack really did not care. It concerned him not. For now.*

You weren't partial to it, were you?

[Tempist the Uncaring]

He noticed the two paths, and the two completely different destinations. He wasn't sure where he had to go, or even what he was doing here in general. However, revenge was the easiest of answers, and chances are, he did know someone here who needed rectification.

"A few people, but they probably don't remember me."

He sensed some people he knew here as well, some very familiar. Their signatures suprized him somewhat, but he didn't make this known. He continued with Taja, and glanced around for the library. He needed to look up a few people, if they were here long enough for a listing in the contact reacords.

"Anything I can do to be of assistance?"

Even though he doubted he could help her, it was a question worth asking.

[Jared Mriad]

"By all means, no. Felines arn't my type," Jared replied, "Although, the sight through it's own eyes is quite amaizing. Black and White, as all forces are," He commented afterwards, lowering his gaze slightly and to the servant, which quirked a silent mental comment. He then returned his gaze to his master, another question of his own brewing.

"Sir, What do you know about the Old Tounge Dragons?"

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Cayss was, by every definition, a small planet, so the abrupt changes in the style of locality were something to be expected. She glanced furtively (or at least tried to, but it seemed Tempist was looking the same way) at the three-storied house from where she sensed ... well, whoever it was she had detected earlier.

She shrugged. "Be my guest. I'm not too sure what I'm looking for myself."

A sign attached to a lamppost instructed them to cross the street - to the same side as Snack's residence - and carry on straight down the pavement until the library came into view. As this was the only significant public services building in this area, and because he failed to protest, Taja assumed he was headed in the same direction.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

They started walking down this aveneue, but Tempist paused for a moment. Out of seemingly nowhere, he was hit with two familiar force signatures nearby. One of them was very strong, and unmistakably that of Darth Snack. The second was one he'd not really encountered while in TSE, but he'd seen once or twice. He shook his head hard, and kept walking. Perhaps after he found what he was looking for, he'd look into those presences.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Tongue Dragons?

*Kinking his head to the side, Snack gave Jared a quizical look. What an odd question.*

Why do you ask?

*Snack wondered if Jared would be perceptive enough to figure out he had no clue what he was talking about. Jared was probably one of his brightest pupils, still around.*

[Ilyarna]

Ilyarna had been doing her best impression of a lampshade, trying to remain unobtrusive and unnoticed as her Master talked with his visitor. She found it difficult to keep still though.

Very gradually she had been drawing closer and closer to the two, curious of their conversation.

She repeated "Tongue Dragon?" to herself..well she thought it was to herself, but actually she had spoken aloud. Realising her error, she immediately backed away and out of the room - Snack's scowl making her knees slightly knock with fear.

Ilyarna had never heard of such a thing, but somehow she felt it simply couldnt be good. How could it with such a name?

Standing on the other side of the not-quite-closed door, the weighty servant eave's-dropped, crinkling her face at the strain of concentration it took to hear anything.

[Jared Mriad]

"Probally to find a cure," Jared responded, running a hand through his red mane of hair before continuing. "All I know about them is what's in a crusty journal whois penman used his own blood, one page reads:

It is the fourth day of August, and already I can feel the poison running through my veins. It was only two days ago when I was first inflicted with this curse, but yet it seems like ages. They call me mad, they do, but they have no idea of the torture I suffer! It twists my stomach into knots and my muscles ache with a burning fire. My forehead is burning up and I feel as if I'm coming down with a fever, but yet, as if some sort of demented miracle, I have no temperature.

I now use my blood as ink on these old, worn pages with a sick hope that the poison will run out. I feel this constant headache that won't leave me alone, and it worsens every time I move. Already I made a discovery that made me realize I was marked as the Devil's. When the Sorceress stabbed me with that treacherous dagger, it left a scar -- which has turned to be the very image of a dragon ... Now I've been having strange nightmares from Hell itself about this unearthly pain as my bones shift and my muscles grind against each other. I'm shapeshifting into an Old Tongue, and I know it's little time until this happens outside of my dreams.

"- And everything that he wrote has happened.. and I want it to stop.." He bowed his head slightly, staring at the floor for a moment, "and I was hopin' you knew about em."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*Ilyarna was a weird specimen, that was for sure. But one thing was certain, other than her infatuation with her Master.... She was scared silly of him being angered at her. Glancing at her as she said aloud what Jared had mentioned, he made the appearance of scowling. It was more of a shock to see her scurrying off behind a closed door.

He shook his head, then returned his attention to Jared, who went into detail of what some symptoms are of this Tongue Dragon thing.*

I've never heard of it...

Why is all of what you said happening to you?

[imported_Taja Loraan]

They arrived outside the local library just as the early afternoon traffic, or what little of it there was, began congesting the narrow streets as residents returned home for the hour or so they were spared from work. The building itself, although renowned for owning the greatest and most varied collection on the planet, was nothing striking in itself, and they were likely to have passed by it if not for Taja's memories of the district.

Entering through the large double doors and into the rather musty room within, the Dark Jedi headed over to the librarian's desk and whispered a few quiet words. The lady's face knotted in hesitation and doubt, but the look somewhat alleviated when Taja passed a more-than-adequate sum of credits into her hand. With a reluctant sigh, the woman rose from her seat and walked to the front of the dest, gesturing towards an aisle.

She turned back to Tempist. "I'll be back in just a second," she said, before following on the heels of the librarian.

[Jared Mriad]

"Carelessness, I suppose." Jared replied, rubbing his right shoulder with his left hand absently. Where the scar from the dagger had formed.

Then he pointed in the direction in which Ilyarna retreated with a little grin, "Where'd you gain that kind of taste in 'gals?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

You call that thing a girl?

*He arched an eyebrow and looked to where Ilyarna had run off.*

A fellow student of Ogre handed this thing off to me, as punishment for her. That blob pick pocketed me, probably even felt me up as well, and Master Lynch who was there at the time tracked her down and was close to killing her... as was I.

*Snack shook his head, his eyes growing distant.*

I need to repay Hera for that.

*He shook his head again. Jared had done well in keeping the Dark Lord's mind off of what has been going on in his life. Guess that's what friends were good for... being there to help out. But both were Sith.. weren't they? snack not as much, but he still held a Dark heart...*

I'll tell ya what, Jared. I'll help you figure out a cure for this "Old Tounge Dragons" disease, if you will help me figure out what the hell is wrong with my life. Deal?

[Jared Mriad]

"Deal." Jared promply responded, cracking a slight grin.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

" 'Kay." he said, quite simply. He didn't know what he was looking for, so he simply walked to the reference section. He located the listing of the planets inhabitants, broken down by area, and then into social class. The poor stayed poor, the rich stayed rich. Should it change, the person either moved, or was killed.

Tempist began to leaf through the pages, looking breifly at each of the names, taking note of a few of them. He stoped at one, and looked down at it, his gaze growing more and more intent by the moment.

"So the lord does live..."

[imported_Taja Loraan]

"What lord?" she asked, peering over Tempist's shoulder. The Sith had been too engrossed in studying the directory to notice her returning with the librarian, who swiftly returned to her desk and attempted to ignore their presence. A large tome was tucked under Taja's arm, the pages yellowed and crumbled at the edges; she had come here seeking something very particular, and so locating it had taken little time.

The Dark Jedi looked up curiously at her companion. Something in her expression indicated to Tempist that she didn't wish to be inquired about the volume she carried, at least for the moment.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Good...

*Snack smiled. He looked over his shoulder to where his slave scampered off to.*

Ilyarna, come...

*He looked back to Jared.*

We're going to the library. It's not big, but it might have what you're looking for...

*And what I'm looking for.

[Ilyarna]

Ilyarna, who had been nowhere to be seen, appeared as if by magic the instant Snack called her. For someone so heavy, she was freakishly light and quiet on her feet.

Jared started a little at her sudden appearing behind him, and she sidled politely past him "excuse me, sir." Coming up beside her Master, she raised chubby fingers to arrange the cuff of her headpeice so that it sat neatly and in place.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*The walk from Snack's house to the library was short. A few people were out wandering the streets, but for the most part, the town's citizens were in their houses, either eating a meal with their families or do some other activity.

He was the first out of the three to enter the old stone building. It held the smell of old paper, rocks, and moldy air.*

"Greetings, my Lord! Anything I can help you with today?"

*Snack looked back over his shoulder to Jared, and nodded*

Pull up a search on the "Old Tongue Dragons". See if there is any information that could be of use to my comrade.

"Of course."

*Snack nodded with a smile. Turning sharply on his heels, the Dark Lord motioned for Ilyarna to follow. He passed the reference section, noting that a few people were here as well. Though, with emotions and his mind on edge, he did not notice that two of them held familiar signatures in the Force.*

Look for something about the Sith. Maybe scriptures of Old can help me.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

"An old aquaintance...."

Tempist hadn't thought about what he said, or what he'd found. He'd located another darksider he had been alied with, that was enough for him.

...then it hit him.

Snack was here, in this very building. The signature was strong, and dark. It was very distinct, few were still that powerful. It had to be him. The Dark Knight (at this point atleast) closed the tome he'd opened, and looked to Taja.

"We've got an old friend here Lady Loraan."

[Ilyarna]

Keeping close to her Master without actually being in the way was not an easy task, but Ilyarna was getting better and better at it. She followed a few steps behind, craning her head about, her eyes trying to see everything at once.

The library awed her. So many books, so much knowledge. She had never seen anything quite so amazing.

She pulled a dusty volume from a shelf and thumbed through it looking for pictures.

She found some..they were quite disturbing. Sith warriors, weapons and such like. She noticed both Snack and his friend had similar weapons, and she gave a shudder. The images were graphic, she was bound to have nightmares tonight for sure. She closed the book and returned it to its place, preferring to watch and wait, and do as she was bid.

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Her shoulders tensed in trepidation before Tempist worded out her thoughts. What slight color there was in her pallid cheeks drained, her jaws clenching shut. She had sensed the others as soon as they stepped into the library, one of whom was also a former accomplice of Taja's, dating back to her time in the Empire. His darkness, however, was not what fazed her; it was the impression of familiarity she received from him.

She mumbled an apology to her companion before swerving around to turn into the next aisle... and ran straight into the back of a noticeably large woman.

[Ilyarna]

Taja's bump barely registered on Ilyarna's hefty frame. Though she did turn to see just what, or who, had run into her.

A pretty little brunette looked up at her with huge brown eyes. Ilyarna smiled at her.

"Oh, hello"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Now this is very interesting...

*His senses still dulled enough not to notice anything except for the exert from the old book now in his hand, Snack nodded. Not in understanding, rather the opposite. The passage that Snack had just glanced over, now re-read five times was most intriguing.

A long lineage of Sith peoples had made their home here on Cayss, though kept their presence well hidden. This secret, unbeknownst to them soon leaked, leading to a civil war between Cayss' once allied neighbor planet of Tvangeste. A skirmish that ended quickly yet left a deep scar.*

That's great, but what about my family...?

*He flipped past a few more pages, and took note of another passage. This one stated that long after the aforementioned war, one Sith Lord stayed on Cayss, proclaiming himself Lord and Ruler of the planet. There were many who opposed the tyrant, but he prevailed. Even in his old age, he was still able to fend off many who wished to see him "de-throned". A few more stanzas down the page, a picture appeared. One, that when Snack's eye's found it, made the Dark Lord speechless.

Snack's mouth gated open, his eyes glossed over. He looked like he had seen a ghost.*

It can't be... can it?

*He studied the picture more and then found a date under it. It only had one day, followed by a dash, meaning there was no death day.

So it wasn't... yet it looked...

Snack closed his eyes tight and shook his head. He cleared his mind and reopened his lookers.*

No...

*The librarian should know! She was older than Snack by two generations at least.

But in his dulled-senses state, he turned to his left only to take two steps before running into the backside of Ilyarna.*

Must you be so...

*His eyes, though, met those of a brunette. One who he had known in the past, barely. Her name, however, was lost in Snack's mind. Too much was going on.*

...Ta... Taja?