Penumbra

Posted on Tue May 21st, 2013 @ 5:40am by Bomoor Thort & Thane

2,603 words; about a 13 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Unknown
Timeline: Unknown

The dim light of the system’s star softly penetrated the tinted glass on the bridge, silhouetting a humanoid figure against the void of space. The figure stood perfectly still while others, dressed in smart black uniform, hurried about behind him. Some threw him quick glances but nobody dared engage the silent being.

Suddenly, the silhouette stirred. His trance broken, he drew a hand up towards his face and caressed the cold-metal respirator that adorned his mouth and chin. Invisible to all, a small smirk crept across his cracked face, “Bomoor…” he spoke.

At that moment, the hatchway to the bridge flew open with a pressurised click and in stepped the foretold Ithorian, garbed not in his Jedi robes, but in a grey flex-armour tunic. The dark figure did not stir as Bomoor slowly paced forward. A young man in uniform drew a blaster and stepped forwards but he was thrown away with a thrust of the newcomer’s arm. The tension in the room grew but nobody else stirred, save for flicking their eyes expectantly towards the man at the window.

Bomoor stopped several paces from him, taking a ready stance, “Darth Serus, I presume?” he questioned.

Not turning to face the newcomer, the figure merely inclined his head towards one of the black-garbed officers. "Commander," his metallic voice reverberated as he spoke, its tone surprisingly clear and cultuered, despite the prosthetic reverberation. "Have all patrols begin a systematic and thorough search for any possible intruders throughout the vessel," he ordered, "and bring any discovered to me - alive. I do not care if they are injured, but you will not kill them."

With a nod, the officer turned away, although he gave a brief glance to Bomoor before gulping and moving over to relay his master's orders.

"You'll have to forgive me and my suspicions, my old friend," the figure finally addressed the Ithorian, "but you could not possibly have come here in the hopes of defeating me." Turning on his heel, the ship's commander brought himself about to face the Jedi newcomer, his red silk-lined cape rippling as he did so.

Garbed in dark, regal finery, Darth Serus looked with a piercing gaze at the Ithorian, his single organic eye a pool of fiery lava amidst a sea of molten gold, stark against the extreme paleness of his skin, ravaged both by physical elements and a deep immersion in the dark side, whilst the cybernetic implant in place of his right eye shone a malevolent crimson.

"And I am quite certain you have not come to swear fealty to me," he observed, Serus' voice a metallic timbre imbued both with practised politeness and natural menace.

“Side with you?” Bomoor let out a dry laugh, “I suppose it is good that you have finally accepted my position. Perhaps now we can have a reasonable discussion without it turning to violence. Do you remember the discussions we used to have? Or do you still shy away from who you once were as if it is somehow shameful to think there was once a shred of decency in you?”

The Dark Lord shook his head, slightly amused and bemused at same time, an affectation so often worn by his former guise. "I do not shy away from what I was, Bomoor, but I have accepted what I am now. You should, too, and then perhaps you would see that this goes beyond simple 'decency'." Serus almost spat the final word, although his demeanour remained cool and collected, his posture more than of a statesman than warrior.

“Regardless,” continued the lone Ithorian, “I am sure you are hardly surprised that I chose now to make an appearance. Your new flagship has torn apart three planets now and I simply cannot allow you to make it a fourth. Besides being a blasphemy against the Living Force, this ship represents a tremendous investment to your Imperium. Imagine if a terrible fate were to befall it, what would you do then?”

Bomoor kept his gaze on the Dark Lord’s face, trying to gauge when he would draw his blade. He knew he stood no chance of landing a strike upon Serus, but he hoped he could draw out his defence for long enough to allow his plan to succeed.

"Oddly enough," Darth Serus said menacingly as he began to take coordinated and precise steps towards the Ithorian, "I was thinking much the same about you and your band of 'freedom fighters'." The Sith Lord said the final words as if they were something entirely alien, but his steely gaze never left Bomoor.

The look in the scorched eyes of the Sith told Bomoor he had no need to hide his plans any longer, “Every one of my company is perfectly aware of the risks they are taking. Besides, even if they die achieving their goals, their efforts will have struck a major victory against you. We are not a band of ragtag rebels, you know. We have done the maths.”

"Do you not think it is time to end this sordid affair?" Serus went on, edging ever closer, although he genuinely seemed to be trying to appeal to his old friend. "Do you not realise the reasons for which I do these things, why they must be done? The Imperium doesn't merely exist to amuse me, Bomoor, it exists to bring order and stability; it exists to protect the galaxy from itself - from the people who would destroy it in the name of imagined 'rights' and misguided delusions of morality."

Serus was now within a few feet of the Ithorian as he continued to try to appeal to him, seemingly genuine. "Logic, reason, justice, intelligence, competence... you would throw all of this away because the incapable and needy suffer? No longer will beings be dragged down by the inferior. These are the things we discussed long ago." Serus paused within a lightsaber's distance of Bomoor, although he stood at ease before the Ithorian as if there were no strains between them. Behind his respirator, there was even a slight softening in his features. "There is no reason for that to not be so again. I am - and always will be - your friend."

Bomoor shifted his trunk backwards slightly, still keeping a firm eye on the black-cloaked human, “Indeed, we did discuss such things. But did I ever once suggest to you that the price of such order should be people’s very lives? I do appreciate such things, old friend. I prize ability and intelligence very highly, but that does not mean I would see those without thrown into the dirt. Their very lives have more value than that within the Force – a good ruler would gain strength from that rather than simply tread their bodies to raise themselves further from the obscurity they create. I am saddened that you never took in anything I said.”

"Just as I am saddened by the fact you have taken everything out of context to suit your own idealised agenda," Serus replied evenly, slightly dismayed. "I have not killed a single individual for their lack of intelligence or ability; I have not assaulted any world that has not plotted against the Imperium or declared their ill intent towards us openly; I have never denied any the opportunity to forge themselves a mighty existence, lest they truly be incapable of achieving it - no longer can someone simply exist and expect to be forgiven for their failures. It is easy for you to stand there, feeling you hold the moral high ground, when you have done nothing to truly improve the galaxy - to makes the best of the best, rather than dragging them down to the same level as the worst of the worst."

The Sith Lord stood confidently before the Jedi Master, unwavering and unconvinced by the Ithorian's sentiments. "If you truly wish to make things different, why do you not challenge me in the political field instead of this? If there was genuine power behind your words, you would not run from one target to the next, ending the innocent lives you care so much for, but would rather stand before all to behold. Your acts of terrorism make it impossible to negotiate or acknowledge you."

Darth Serus now turned on his heel to walk back towards the front of the bridge, the other Star Destroyers in the fleet rallying about the flagship and assuming position. His arms crossed, he said, "The majority of the people you claim to defend have no true understanding of the cause you fight for, for the reasons you do what you do. If they did and were as well-versed and capable as you, I would relinquish my position and trust in the mass intelligence of the common man - but that is not so, and we both know that to be true." He now half-turned to face Bomoor, his scarred side and cybernetic eye visible. "No act I commit is without reason."

Bomoor himself now took a step forward, somewhat annoyed that Serus was deciding to draw the conversation to a close, "Perhaps I shall face you under peaceful terms one day. But only when I can assure my people that we will not simply be extinguished under the banner of the Imperium. You know as well as I do that the galaxy is not a level playing field, but you pick and choose your team so that it is no longer even sporting. It is you against the Galaxy - your elite against the very essence of life."

The Ithorian's head bobbed downwards and his voice became more sullen, "Do you remember our journey to Tython where we saw how the slightest imbalance could whip the elements into a frenzy? I see you now, like that crazed Whiphid wielding the dark holocron. You have whipped up a storm that cuts down all that stands around you, leaving you safe in the heart of the temple. But how long until the cracks begin to form?"

"I can see there is no way we will be able to end this through mere words alone," Darth Serus resigned himself to say, although he did not face the Ithorian but continued to look through the viewport at the vessels and stars beyond. "You must also realise you cannot be permitted to escape. So, my old friend, will you surrender willingly and without incident... or must I detain you myself?"

Bomoor straightened up, "I suppose it depends on whether you can trust any of your lessers to get me all the way to the detention level without incident," he looked around the bridge at the officers, most of whom had stopped to watch the discussion, "Do you have faith that they will be able to stop me slipping off and escaping if I so desire?"

"I did have faith that you would be a man of your word, were to you to submit," the Sith Lord replied, the menace in his artificially-altered voice magnifying, despite his tone not growing any louder. With Serus' hand barely twitching, a heavy sound could be heard within the heavy doors that Bomoor had entered through, growing more secure just moments before a second set sealed themselves shut as well.

Turning on the spot, Darth Serus once more faced the Ithorian, placing his hands on his hips in such a way that appropriately exposed the lightsaber hanging from his fine belt. "So what is it going to be, Bomoor?" He asked, his tone sounding slightly amused as he challenged his old friend, "Your peaceful submission... or your violent defeat?"

A single intelligent molten-gold-and-red eye now watched Bomoor, willing him to concede. By the way he now stood and the familiar mannerisms, Bomoor could see his old friend was ready to move at the slightest provocation, no more interested in words as he was in settling what had seemingly become an inconvenience to the Imperator.

Serus' confidence was almost palpable. It angered Bomoor that his old friend should be so certain of his powers as well as Bomoor's own. The Ithorian had become stronger since their last meeting and, as he did not restrict his emotions as much as he once had, he saw no reason why he could not fight a good battle. But Darth Serus drew strongly from the dark side and also maintained form to his attack. He would almost certainly win in the end.

Suddenly, the communicator on his wrist gave a subtle double beep. It was a signal from his companions on the ship. Bomoor eased himself slightly, "Very well, old friend. I submit. I see no good in me dying here today."

Serus' head rose slightly, inspecting Bomoor over the respirator that spread across his nose and mouth. "So be it," he said darkly as one hand fluidly rose and drew the Ithorian's lightsaber into it, whilst the other flicked downwards, and with it, so was Bomoor dragged heavily down upon his knees-

-and face-first into a murky puddle of stagnant water, splashing into his eyes as a boot was slammed into the bulk of his trunk, knocking Bomoor over and into more foul-smelling mire. Laughing was barely audible as his hearing was muffled through the dirt all over him, as well as a familiar voice shouting with anger, before that too was replaced with a shout of pain and a thud.

With his vision clearing, Thane was being beaten with a shock baton by two guards, one in scraps of Mandalorian armour and the other a Twi'lek with one lekku. His friend and former Jedi's outfit was torn and tattered and blood and bruises marred his visage, but a hatred burned in his eyes as he remained focused on those standing over the Ithorian, but without the Force, it was impossible to touch any connection between the pair.

The Ithorian pushed a weary arm outwards to lift himself up and immediately felt the blunt force of a rifle crack down upon his shoulders and send him down again. His head span with mixed visions. He was with Thane on Jericho once more. That was clear. But what had he just experienced?

He felt himself being kicked and dragged but his nerves were dull and the strikes felt more like poking a bruise. Bomoor stole a glance upwards towards the wire frames that lined the corridor, upon which sat dozens of ysalamiri, stripping him of his connection to the force. Surely he could not have experienced a vision while surrounded by the lizards. Was what he had seen just his mind replaying the dark thoughts he had seen on Tython? Thoughts meant to sow distrust between himself and his closest friend. Right now, Thane was the last person he wanted to fight. This Darth Serus was just the result of a battered and weary mind.

He stared at his friend once again. While a fury burnt in his eyes, it was a passionate and righteous fury. One Bomoor wished he had the strength to summon at this moment. Perhaps it would prevent his mind from sinking into madness. Time blurred in this place and the Ithorian did not know where they were being taken. But he was sure that Zrad Rezer would not find amusement from them for long. Bomoor felt helpless – far from his home and cut off from the Force. If he died now, would he even be able to pass into the Living Force or would he simply fade into nothingness?

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