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24-02-2024, 01:24 AM
Gilded Cage
The man peered out from the balcony of the mountainous outpost into the distance. The valley below was pristine, perhaps the most beautiful natural landscape he has ever laid eyes upon. Beneath snow-capped mountains lay a uniform dark green blanket of evergreen vegetation, eventually giving way to grassy pastures that bloomed with wildflowers and, in the center of it all, a roaring mountain river. It was the beginning of spring on the hemisphere, and it was as if all life had awoken from its deep slumber to sing a joyous hymn, celebrating the coming of the sun's warmth. Nivalis breathed the invigorating alpine air into his lungs. Oh how he had missed it, the smell of fresh air. As he admired the view below, a foreman approaches.
"My Lord, the explosives are set and ready. We are only awaiting for your command."
"The explosives?" he thought to himself. He did not quite remember anything about explosives. He paused for a moment, regarding the man. The worker seemed impatient, anxious even. "My Lord, we are three weeks behind schedule." the tired, middle-aged man said behind gritted teeth, carefully hiding his anger in front of the Sith, "Lord Vipion is alredy upset, considering her latest communications to us. I do not want her to be upset any further. Just say the word and we will deal with the rest", he said, hurriedly, a hint of fear in his voice that was impossible to hide. "Or perhaps, you wish to disappoint her?"
The Sith's heart drops at the mention of the name, his already pallid complexion losing any remaining hint of color. "No, I do not. Proceed." he says.
The foreman looks up to him, handing him a detonator. "I thought it would be appropriate if you inaugurated this yourself, my Lord. After all, it's your homeworld..."
Nivalis' eyes widen as he takes hold of the device. He did not remember this, but he had to continue. She was already dissapointed.
Holding his breath, the pale man pushes the button.
And the valley below, pristine and untouched by human meddling, errupts.
A series of explosions, blast after blast after blast, as green gave way to billowing clouds of flame. One entire side of the mountain completely obliterated.
The foreman takes the device from the Apprentice's trembling hands, patting him on the back. "Perfect. As soon as the dust settles we will begin setting up the extraction site. Maybe this place can be of use yet..."
Nivalis jolts up in horror, drawing in gasping breaths. He looks around in a panic as his eyes adjust to the artificial light of the room. He sighs, realizing he's in his workshop at Sernpidal, having fallen asleep on his work desk again. The place was messy, various tools and machine parts strewn around the table, some on the floor around him. Several plants decorated the interior of the workshop, at least those that could withstand the artificial lights and dust-filled atmosphere that the air filters struggled desperately to purify. A few paintings hanged up on the walls, a great number more laying unfinished in the corners of the workshop, some of them bearing lightsaber and scortch marks. A man, that until this point stood in the corner of the workshop behind some shelves, approached the distressed Apprentice. He was pale and white of hair, like the Sith, but his eyes were a brilliant silver against Nivalis' corrupted sulfuric yellow, and his hair cropped short. "Flavian?" he asked, his expression one of concern. He set the box of gardening tools down and leaned on the shelves.
The Sith smiled back, but the other man saw right through his ruse. "Was it Dubrillion?", he said in understanding.
"No... No need for concern." the Sith answered, waving his hand.
"Flavian, I've known you for twenty five years now. Hell, I know you better than my sisters." the gardener said, bumping a fist on the man's bicep. "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, but don't pretend I don't -know- something's bothering you."
The Sith huffs, getting up from his seat to fetch two cans of an energy drink from a small refrigerator unit next to the shelves. "It's the stress. I don't want to disappoint my new Pentarch." he laughs "Oh I really do not want to do that. But somehow, someway, I always manage to mess things up." he hisses as he cracks open the cans, handing one to the gardener. He takes a long gulp from the icy cold drink, as he shows his left hand to the man, his pale palm marked by two scars forming an X shape. The other man's eyes widen. "A blood oath with a witch?! Are you mad?!" he says, half scared, half amused. "Oh you really kriffed up this time old Flavian." he jests, but the Sith can feel an underlying current of anxiety and worry in his friend's aura. "Don't worry, Sigas, it's not that serious..." the man said, knowing that neither of them believed it. "It's alright, for now. I'm moving on in my research as planned. Made some breakthroughs concerning the wingmaws...And when it's done I can move on to better projects. Unlike Sarias, unlike my previous Master, she has offered me complete freedom in my research. I feel giddy thinking about the possibilities..."
"Longer chains are still chains, Flavian." the other man says, his expression growing grim. "Don't I know it? Everyone here is watching us like hawks, waiting, just waiting, for us to fall out of line. They don't trust us...aliens." The room falls silent for a few moments, both men contemplating their situation, each in their own heads. Nivalis is the first to break the silence. "Speeder racing?" he says, and Sigas responds with a smile "Like the good ole times..." he says, both Echani making their way to the workshop's exit as they head for the planet's barren surface.
The man peered out from the balcony of the mountainous outpost into the distance. The valley below was pristine, perhaps the most beautiful natural landscape he has ever laid eyes upon. Beneath snow-capped mountains lay a uniform dark green blanket of evergreen vegetation, eventually giving way to grassy pastures that bloomed with wildflowers and, in the center of it all, a roaring mountain river. It was the beginning of spring on the hemisphere, and it was as if all life had awoken from its deep slumber to sing a joyous hymn, celebrating the coming of the sun's warmth. Nivalis breathed the invigorating alpine air into his lungs. Oh how he had missed it, the smell of fresh air. As he admired the view below, a foreman approaches.
"My Lord, the explosives are set and ready. We are only awaiting for your command."
"The explosives?" he thought to himself. He did not quite remember anything about explosives. He paused for a moment, regarding the man. The worker seemed impatient, anxious even. "My Lord, we are three weeks behind schedule." the tired, middle-aged man said behind gritted teeth, carefully hiding his anger in front of the Sith, "Lord Vipion is alredy upset, considering her latest communications to us. I do not want her to be upset any further. Just say the word and we will deal with the rest", he said, hurriedly, a hint of fear in his voice that was impossible to hide. "Or perhaps, you wish to disappoint her?"
The Sith's heart drops at the mention of the name, his already pallid complexion losing any remaining hint of color. "No, I do not. Proceed." he says.
The foreman looks up to him, handing him a detonator. "I thought it would be appropriate if you inaugurated this yourself, my Lord. After all, it's your homeworld..."
Nivalis' eyes widen as he takes hold of the device. He did not remember this, but he had to continue. She was already dissapointed.
Holding his breath, the pale man pushes the button.
And the valley below, pristine and untouched by human meddling, errupts.
A series of explosions, blast after blast after blast, as green gave way to billowing clouds of flame. One entire side of the mountain completely obliterated.
The foreman takes the device from the Apprentice's trembling hands, patting him on the back. "Perfect. As soon as the dust settles we will begin setting up the extraction site. Maybe this place can be of use yet..."
Nivalis jolts up in horror, drawing in gasping breaths. He looks around in a panic as his eyes adjust to the artificial light of the room. He sighs, realizing he's in his workshop at Sernpidal, having fallen asleep on his work desk again. The place was messy, various tools and machine parts strewn around the table, some on the floor around him. Several plants decorated the interior of the workshop, at least those that could withstand the artificial lights and dust-filled atmosphere that the air filters struggled desperately to purify. A few paintings hanged up on the walls, a great number more laying unfinished in the corners of the workshop, some of them bearing lightsaber and scortch marks. A man, that until this point stood in the corner of the workshop behind some shelves, approached the distressed Apprentice. He was pale and white of hair, like the Sith, but his eyes were a brilliant silver against Nivalis' corrupted sulfuric yellow, and his hair cropped short. "Flavian?" he asked, his expression one of concern. He set the box of gardening tools down and leaned on the shelves.
The Sith smiled back, but the other man saw right through his ruse. "Was it Dubrillion?", he said in understanding.
"No... No need for concern." the Sith answered, waving his hand.
"Flavian, I've known you for twenty five years now. Hell, I know you better than my sisters." the gardener said, bumping a fist on the man's bicep. "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, but don't pretend I don't -know- something's bothering you."
The Sith huffs, getting up from his seat to fetch two cans of an energy drink from a small refrigerator unit next to the shelves. "It's the stress. I don't want to disappoint my new Pentarch." he laughs "Oh I really do not want to do that. But somehow, someway, I always manage to mess things up." he hisses as he cracks open the cans, handing one to the gardener. He takes a long gulp from the icy cold drink, as he shows his left hand to the man, his pale palm marked by two scars forming an X shape. The other man's eyes widen. "A blood oath with a witch?! Are you mad?!" he says, half scared, half amused. "Oh you really kriffed up this time old Flavian." he jests, but the Sith can feel an underlying current of anxiety and worry in his friend's aura. "Don't worry, Sigas, it's not that serious..." the man said, knowing that neither of them believed it. "It's alright, for now. I'm moving on in my research as planned. Made some breakthroughs concerning the wingmaws...And when it's done I can move on to better projects. Unlike Sarias, unlike my previous Master, she has offered me complete freedom in my research. I feel giddy thinking about the possibilities..."
"Longer chains are still chains, Flavian." the other man says, his expression growing grim. "Don't I know it? Everyone here is watching us like hawks, waiting, just waiting, for us to fall out of line. They don't trust us...aliens." The room falls silent for a few moments, both men contemplating their situation, each in their own heads. Nivalis is the first to break the silence. "Speeder racing?" he says, and Sigas responds with a smile "Like the good ole times..." he says, both Echani making their way to the workshop's exit as they head for the planet's barren surface.
