![[-]](https://www.horuset.com/images/igame/collapse.png "[-]")
Entropy.
The recording began with no visual cue whatsoever. What was left upon access is what one would expect from such machine – the constant flickering of blue light. However, what was audible, was the clashing of metal. In rhythm, dictated by what sounds like a melody of sorts. Hummed in a rather jovial manner, as it was further accentuated by the mechanical ambient of the almost uncerognizable background. An educated guess could be made that all of it it came from within a room on board of a starship.
th
The clashing continued for a good minute, maybe two as the tune altered ever so slightly between each three strikes. There was a method to whatever was being a subject to it. Yet, that faded into the background, as steps grew close towards the machine. A passing silhoutte of a Twi’lek could be spotted, accompanied by his voice. One bearing a husk, as if that throat was torn apart time and time again, only to never heal properly.
"Ahandra Yaria Horuset is dead."
Zveris stated in an utmost off-matterly tone in a stark contrast to the melodic hum. And when it was uttered, the clashing of metal subsided, only to be followed by mundane rummaging of whatever passed the Twi’lek’s hands. Yet, after that there was another moment of woeful silence, which was broken by an exasperated sigh.
"Quite the mouthful, really. Could've been just kept to Darth Horuset, as she seems to be the only one who died in the living memory. Obviously the memory of the dead has to be honored somehow, but I don’t think she’ll be mourned for long. Though she did die like a real star – by blowing up."
This time silence wouldn’t be able to take hold of the scene, as the Alien continued on. But before that came a scoff.
"And now there’s blood in the water. Or ash, even as she’s no more, there are sure will be scavengers who’ll be more than happy to gorge on what’s left of her. The question now is just when. Because that will come and it has to. Else most of these spineless mongrels wouldn’t call themselves Sith."
Barked on, his tone audibly became tainted by disdain at the prospect of such.
"Like these little Horusets left in her wake. The only one with a semblance of cohesion is Atas and he’s mad as well. Perhaps not as much as the Dark Lord, but that seems to run in the family which will come to bite us all in the back, sooner than later."
At which the Twi'lek brought himself to a halt, letting out a sigh for momentary composure.
"The rest of them? Irrelevant. The pursuit of glory that'll never be theirs, unless they'll try to follow the same path as the late Matriarch. For that it seems to be the trend, or rather, the norm given what sort of lifestyle we all lead. And each of them ends in the same way - damnation. All that differs is the way we meet it..."
His words hung in the air for a split of a second, as his marred visage finally appears in the holofeed. For once the expression seems to be cursed with a higher thought.
"...And I should be rejoicing that she's dead. The woman who had left the towers of Citadel, just so she could straighten her dusty old bones over my neck. Me and everyone else who's not tainted the same way she was. And yet..."
What followed was but a crease of a chair, as the Alien leaned back into the backrest.
"I still can't believe it. Even though the Old Man once said that everyone is just a sack of flesh and blood - Darth or else - where all you need is a method to take them down. In this case, the method being letting her be eaten by madness of her own making and surviving it. And it did happen. I survived it."
Zveris' expression turned blank, yet his eyes trailed from left to right. Gears churning behind the glimmering brimstones, which would soon close, as his hands join on their respective temples. Exhaustion painted itself all over his tattooed face as he slinks down the chair.
"And so did everyone else present, in one piece or few. The game hasn't ended yet and it is still going. Another question this time is how, if at all, the rules will change. Most likely they will. After all, we need some grand pretense in order to kill eachother. Not that we all did anyway and for less too."
A groan slipped past his lips. One that turned into an exaggerated raspberry.
"Another thing is this...State." - his hand rolled out that, where the clicking of prosthetic joints permeated the recording. - "Since my ascension. All this trouble for a title and a new name. Frankly, I don't know what I've expected, if anything, I never thought I'd get so far. Or did I? What is a Household Sith if not a glorified apprentice?" - the Twi'lek leaned forward, eyes opened wide with what could only be described as haunted look to them. The tattered lips beneath those eyes pursed into a straight line, which would then give way to a hushed voice.
"More responsibilites where each mistake is put under even greater scrutiny than before. And each one of them is yet another chain, curling over my neck and shoulders, hell, in every bone that's left in my body. Then... - a brief pause. Halting himself as his voice deepened with disbelief. - "The nights grow restless, I can see -them- in the corner of my eyes. Always there, always watching and whenever I turn to look at -them- they are...Gone. Unwavering and unrelenting in their vigil. I have no idea what they are, the medical scans say everything healed properly and yet it's that taint that lingers most on my mind..."
It was rather apparent the Twi'lek himself was losing it, as his hands moved to cover his eyes. Fingers curled over his forehead and a small trickle of blood could be seen escaping from each side. His head tilts, as his face appears once again. What should be a red face marred with scars and tattoos, now was as white as the snows of Hoth as it closed to the light source. Eyes unblinking through the remainder of the passage.
"These talks of alien blocks, these allegations made by the daft and the deluded, all done in order to undermine...What exactly? Another life chewed and spat out by this galaxy? What are these words if not an echo that reverborate in the wake of the Dark Lord's death? Or were they there before? Have I...Died then? When the durasteel clamped down on my skull, biting into every nerve, rewiring what I am? Or is this some purgatory as I lay dying in a ditch somewhere on Dromund Kaas? Does it...Does it even matter?"
Yelped at first, but it quickly turned into a forced cackle. As brief as it was, for the Twi'lek rocked back and forth, his head shaking sideways, whlist tapping can be heard. Presumably of his foot against the metal tiles beneath.
"I ignore them. Or try to. Or do I? Everything melds into one - yesterday, today, tomorrow - all is the same. Each day, a same story unfurls where life begets death and each day I ask myself - when will be my turn? Will I even get a say in how it happens? Or when? Did she thought of the same when she died? Maybe, maybe not...Most likely not. She was too far gone. Me? I am but a fraction of a fraction of what she was in life. In death? We all turn into ash. Everyone knows it and they simply tell themselves otherwise. Because really what other answer is there?"
There it was - a semblance of sanity permeated through the Alien as he let out a snarl, head snapped to the side while in a brisk moment he was no longer animated.
"In the face of entropy, what can a man do other than laugh? When this realisation settles in, that we all run on borrowed time and every death, every struggle ultimately amounts to nothing. Our legacy? Our apprentices, assets, knowledge passed on to the few who'd care to listen in a face of a galaxy that never cared to begin with?"
The prosthetic arms stretched out to the sides in an encapsulating gesture as he spoke, emphasising the fatality of their reality. Then these same arms barreled forth, hands curled into fists as they slammed into the desk upon which the recorder stood, shaking it's video feed as a result. The Twi'lek leaned into the projector. For a moment, the recording froze, leaving nothing but rasped breath and a thousand yard stare regaling whomever might view it.
It was a woeful while of a glitched out image and it wasn't until few minutes later when both audio and video feeds returned to normal. Zveris sat sideways to the device, seemingly staring into empty space. Saying nothing and doing nothing, until a sigh escaped. Whether he knew if the machine worked or not, was anyone's guess.
"The worst part? I am no better. Fear grips my heart like any other being, sending shivers down my spine. Be it fear for myself or those whom I care for, I can't help but to see the end of it. All dust. And how can a man bear himself to care for nothing but dust?"
The last thing that came to view was the Twi'lek speaking with a defeated tone, before his hand extended. Summoning the device to the prosthetic which subsequently shut the feed, ending the recording in silence.
