No Glory Among Slaves
Posted on Thu Mar 29th, 2018 @ 9:03pm by Mentis & Trey†
Edited on on Fri Mar 30th, 2018 @ 8:35am
1,852 words; about a 9 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Cult of Axion Sanctuary, Unknown System
Timeline: Several days after "The Battle of Jericho"
The dim candlelight waned as the last of the wick was consumed by its own combustion; the unstable glow sent shadows hither and thither across the stone floor of the meditation hall. Mentis sat alone in the middle of the room, clasping his aching head and attempting to centre himself as he fought against the physical pain that Axion had inflicted upon him in his anger at their failure to return with the Kaiburr shard from Jericho.
He seemed to have suffered the most at his master’s hand; while Nala had been choked and thrown aside before the attack had been turned upon him, it was almost dismissively, as though she was simply a troublesome Musk-Hound that had been chewing on the furniture. He knew that Nala was the favoured one, being practically Axion’s child, although he knew their relationship was not quite as such. But then there was Trey, who had watched, grinning as Mentis lay against the ground, contorting with the power of Axion’s crimson Force Lighting.
Mentis had kept his eyes open, locked on that jester’s smirk, enduring the pain through gritted teeth and scorching nerves as he waited for the punishment to turn to his rival; waited for his agony to be felt by that self-righteous human who deserved this searing pain even more so than himself. But as Axion released his power, inhaling deeply from his expended energy, having no Kaiburr shard on hand to reimbue himself, he simply turned silently and walked towards the door. It was only when he had almost left that he threw out a hand and sent Trey smacking into a marble pillar with a less-than-satisfactory impact. With the punishment over, he returned to his personal quarters, self-assured that his lesson had been taught.
He knew his master was a smart human; he had chosen Mentis to bear the brunt of his punishment because he knew exactly how far he could push each of his disciples and Mentis was an extremely loyal, perhaps the most loyal member of the cult. He had borne corporeal punishments in the past and practically thanked his master afterwards before the other cultists, which Axion knew further solidified the justice of his actions to all the observers. Whereas with Trey, he seemed to relish in pain no matter whether he was on the giving or receiving end. It was thoroughly revolting to Mentis, who saw pain only as a means to an end and not some delightful indulgence.
Had he not been under the scrutiny of such an infuriating individual as Trey, this would perhaps have simply been another one of those times. He knew that Axion enjoyed fuelling the fire of competition between cultists but, this time, he had under-estimated just how much hatred the Rattataki felt towards the lumbering assassin. As Nala had come over to Mentis and practically dragged him away, Trey had already recovered from his minor telling off and resumed his wordless smirk. Mentis watched him for as long as he could before Nala coaxed him out of the room.
Now, he sat here, feeling the insult growing within him. Running it through his mind, he could find no way to see some silver lining in the scenario – no way to absolve his master for failing to adequately-punish Trey. Those many years ago, when Axion had come to Rattatak and found him in that prison, he had promised him that he would find glory and prestige under his rule. He had been a slave then and, when Axion had deactivated his tracking chip, he had immediately pledged himself into his service. But he did not realise that he was still property, still part of someone else’s game. There was no prestige earned that his master did not claim and no glory that could not be toppled at the whim of that same hand.
He ran his own hands down his face, feeling his fingers tracing burning red lines on his usually chalky-white face, interrupted by the scar he had received for his master’s glory on Nar Shaddaa. He thought of Trey’s dirty but unscathed, pinky flesh and how he could tear it off and teach him how to fear pain, the way Mentis feared it. But it was really only death that would silence the fool – the only fitting punishment for a man who found so much perverse joy in life.
With his last thought, the fading candle was extinguished by its own wax and the room was bathed in blackness.
Finding a sudden strength, Mentis rose. For once, he would deliver this punishment.
Trey leaned back in the grotty fresher and exhaled deeply. Life in the cult was a blast: he could say all the things that usually got him kicked out of every other gang or club he ever belonged to. Even when Axion turned his hand against him, he could sense that it was merely for show. Now this was what he wanted from a family, not those boring stuffed shirts he had left behind. Or had he killed them? It was hard to keep track when his path was bathed in blood and treachery.
He was sure it would not last, but he intended to make the most out of it while it did. Perhaps he could make off with one of those Kaiburr Crystals. He could probably murder and back-stab his way into anywhere with that kind of power. The thought of himself strangling Supreme Chancellor Paralles came to mind and he laughed loudly. The youthful cackle bounced off the reflective fresher walls.
He sat himself up again. He had finished in here anyway and looked about for something to wipe himself down with but found nothing obvious and so slipped back down, wondering if he even needed to clean himself at all. He was probably fine. There were Hutts who slid around on their own slime so why should he clean up his?
He shrugged and went to draw his garments up when he sensed someone fast approaching the small room with a tremendously dark aura. The door flung open and there stood Mentis, still looking terribly beaten-up, but with a passion that ignited his eyes a burning orange.
Trey laughed to himself in disbelief at the raw energy the scrawny man was exerting, “The fresher is occupied, Mentis,” he taunted, not affected at all by the sudden intrusion, “But if you really want to join me, you can help me wipe my ar…”
He was cut off as Mentis charged forward, picking him up by the throat and pinning him against the back wall. But, much like on Jericho, Trey had sensed the outburst and had responded in turn by summoning his heavy hilt from the floor beside his trousers and digging it deep into Mentis’ side, finger lightly hovering over the ignition switch.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, Mentie-man,” he rasped, the tone of his voice still jovial, even while strained, “It would be a shame to kill you just when you get interesting but I won’t hesitate. I have killed so many better than you.”
Mentis let go with a roar and darted backwards. He pulled out his lightsaber and ignited it, with Trey mirroring him almost simultaneously. His massive weapon was too large for the room and stone and tile began to fizz and burn to make room for the twin red blades.
“I will end you,” Mentis fumed, angered at how Trey destroyed his surroundings even without thinking, “The chaos you bring is a sickness and I shall carve it out of you. I hope you feel every last essence of life leave your body.”
“Heh,” Trey snorted, looking about at the small space he found himself cornered in, “Not so funny now you start talking. But maybe we should take this to master Axion. I am sure he…”
Mentis had finished listening. He had considered what abilities he had that surpassed those of the surprisingly-agile human, who he now saw could not make use of his space as effectively. He had tried it unsuccessfully against the Kaiburr-charged Ithorian, but his Force Inertia ability was well-refined and he knew it was an ability that Trey had little time for.
Making his intention to strike clear, Mentis shot forward once again and brought his saber with him, pointed towards his foe’s chest and maintaining a clear, steady pace, which he knew Trey could easily predict. The bait was taken and, cutting through the remaining doorway, the double-bladed lightsaber was swung forth in what would have been a clean Sai Tok blow, cutting Mentis in two, were it not for the fact that Mentis was not where he should have been.
Lingering a fraction of a second behind schedule was enough to completely miss the swing, although the heat of the blade could be felt across Mentis’ body as he just squeezed past it. Releasing the technique, he resumed his previous momentum and stabbed his blade deep into Trey’s heart. He watched as the light buried deep within him, until it was all but the hilt that remained outside of the body.
The weapon disengaged and Trey fell down onto the murky floor. Crouching down and baring his teeth at the human, the paled skinned humanoid stared wordlessly at the quickly-dying man. Trey seemed to be attempting a scowl but he could not maintain any one expression as he struggled to stay conscious; his body was shutting down and his precious life was draining away. Mentis’ own anger began to ebb as he saw the moment his enemy gave up his struggle and, with a sigh that seemed just like one of Trey’s usual huffs of boredom, he sunk downwards and moved no more.
The deed complete and reality taking hold, Mentis once again felt the pain in his flesh and realised that the echoes of what he had just done would be felt by every Force-sensitive being in the sanctuary and that, at any moment, Axion could walk through that door and see what he had done, if he did not already know. For a moment, Mentis thought to go to Nala, knowing she shared his disdain for Trey. But despite their unspoken friendship within the cult, he knew she would never endanger her position to shelter him. She may even take the opportunity to kill him to secure her place at the top of Axion's pyramid of false glory.
There was only one option: he had to flee. There were some speeder bikes in the garage, which he could use to reach the closest settlement and, from there, he might just acquire a ship. He could make it to the garage; it was just across the courtyard below the window. As he heard footsteps and voices approaching, he leapt to the ledge and, after the briefest of calculations, dropped down into the darkness outside.
He hoped this time he would not fall straight into the arms of another slave master.
MENTIS
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