VC Deception - Revelation (part II)
 

INTERIOR: KILLIAN CITADEL – THRONE ROOM

While the legion of death comes for Gabriel, thousands of miles away the legend known as Valaryc Winters Versai is trapped between steel, and excruciating pain. Cire has upped the ante on his little game, which has evolved from a question and answer session into a test of endurance more to his liking. Val’s lips rarely close, for save to lick his chapped lips as wave after wave of a combination of muscle over-stimulation and electrifying bolts of energy course through his body on a endless pace, Cire continuing to give him the answers that he seeks, but what good are the answers to these questions if one is not alive long enough to make use of them? This is one factor Cire is banking on, that Val will struggle and suffer just enough to remain conscious to ponder his clues, over and over again before reaching his intermission and giving his captive his prize for his dedication to the game, a prize that like with traditional game show genres, lies behind a lavish, black curtain.

CIRE – You’ve done exceptionally well Val; you never cease to amaze me as to how much you can endure under the highest of stress. I do apologize for the inconvenience…no wait, on second thought no I don’t. You deserve to feel EVERY OUNCE OF PAIN THAT RIPS THROUGH YOU.

Val is revealed to now be bleeding from a series of eight slices along his arms, just below the vital veins in his wrist, to along just above his ankles. The menacing units have now begun their sickening decent and accent down their individual trails lining along its captive’s body. Blood already begins to trickle to the floor and down along Val’s bound, outstretched arms, yet inside the fighters mind, he endures and blocks out the pain the best he can, numbing himself to the consistent barrage inflicted upon him, weaving together the piece of the full puzzle he has yet to complete, whether Cire is aware or not Val is not giving in to his demands, he is rather buying his time.

 CIRE – Oh now let’s see, we’ve covered the very dead Admiral Krevlin, and our little feud. We haven’t yet covered how I survived though; I wanted to save that for just the right moment, and just the right way to present that information in living color.

Cire presses a few buttons on a consul in front of him as a podium rises from the floor, and another long, slender rectangular object rises before Val, the top of it possesses a cubed shape that suddenly flings open, hurling four triangular wedges to reveal a smooth, half circle smooth globe. The curved surface has a radiant purple glow within its shimmering transparasteel shell as Cire steps up before it and removes the glove on his left hand. Val can see that his hand is burned and scared from the fire of long ago. A part of him cheers mentally that even though Cire did live, he did not escape the fire undamaged…he still suffered for his tactics.

CIRE – (closes his eyes) I know what you’re thinking Val. I can see it in your eyes; I don’t even need The Force to tell your thoughts. You are delighting in the fact that my hand is forever altered by our last encounter. As much as you relish that moment Val, there is a purpose for revealing this fact to your eyes…for it is these details you overlooked, that allowed me to live.

VAL – (raises an eyebrow) Tell me how you did it…

CIRE – Will you pay the cost to know?

VAL – Do I really have a choice?

CIRE – No…

Cire slowly cranes his eyes over to Corrie and motions for her to activate another two clicks to the razor sharp box units. Val braces for the inflictions to come, sharply gasping out his held breath as the units move in seconds across his skin, from his arms traveling downward, while the units along his legs travel up…seeking to eventually meet in the same points at the end of their tracks. In their wake, they leave four freshly carved slashes along Val’s arms and legs, another strip of sixteen wounds meeting the sixteen previous cuts, which now slowly clot, stopping the flow of blood, but with the torturous shock of electricity and the tensing of his muscles, the blood is forced through the temporary barrier, leaking like a water pipe, the wounds above, new and abrupt stream Val’s crimson essence like a slow moving stream, steady and constant.

VAL – (pants) T..t….t…te…tell….me…

CIRE – (grins) Watch the monitor Val, you see this device before my hand? Utilizing the genetic properties of Gen’s ability to read and transmit ones thoughts through a kiss, I’ve discovered that this ability was not a force trait but a DNA encoded ability exclusive only to her race. So I found a way to replicate that ability a thousand times over through this sensory device…once its touched, the monitor waaaaaay up there will transmit my thoughts and your own…

VAL – (growls)I’m watching…

CIRE – Oh I know you are…I know you’re little ears are wide and open, hanging on every word I’m about to tell you but I have to warn you Val. You may not like what you’re about to see, so brace yourself…this is really going to hurt your ego.

Val narrows his eyes towards Cire with a look that would pierce steel, cold, focused, and full of rage but he subsides his glare only momentarily finding that the best strategy at the moment is to play nice and let Cire tell him all he needs to know, not to let Cire flaunt how ignorant Val was, but rather to use the information as a tactical advantage for the next time they clashed…and Val vowed under his breath, there would be a next time…

Cire places his burned hand over the smooth surface of the globe, as two panels along a wall slide back, the every same unit “Quillion” had used to communicate with his mole. The massive display screen slowly began to flicker to life as a picture formed, Cire’s fingers clutched the device along his palm as he narrowed his eyes in concentration, allowing the machine to read and translate his memory on to the big screen.

Slowly the flickering fires of that fateful event begin to play on the screen as Val watches in eager interest, ignoring the level 4 settings of electrical impulses and muscle contractions throughout his core, it was growing monotonous and soon, perhaps under the nose of Cire, Val was growing immune to the sensations, though the lacerations along his arms and legs were another story.

A younger Cire cowered in the shadows of the hole Val had tossed him through and familiar words began to unfold in the flashback, but with new details, it was the “special edition” of their titanic confrontation.
 

~FLASHBACK DETAIL~
 

(Some is repeated, and the gaps are filled in. The voice is only heard in Cire’s head and indicated with an alternate display with parenthesis)

VOICE – Trust me Cire…trust in my words and do as I tell you…

CIRE – Very well, I’ve nothing to lose…

(VOICE) – Exactly my disciple…You have sworn your loyalty to me, now I will protect you

 Cire leaps back into the hole, shortly before Val screams in pure focused anger as his signature “Bolt of Hatred, the very same devastating attack that shattered Cire’s lightsaber, dealing the ultimate sign of disrespect to him, now expanding 30 feet launches into the wall structure, completely disintegrating the foundations of the wall as the orange energy blaze erupts into the structure. From the darkness after the melee stops, a single figure, set ablaze leaps out and tackles Val to the ground.

The figure is Cire, having leaped from the flames set afire by the blaze, trying to take Val with him as his flesh is scorched. Val having the advantage in skill hurls him away the force of the throw smothers out the flames.

CIRE – (angered)IS THAT THE BEST YOU HAVE VAL! YOU ARE SO WEAK; IN ALL YOUR VICIOUS ATTACKS YOU DON’T HAVE THE GUTS TO KILL! THIS IS WHY I WILL ALWAYS BE STRONGER THEN YOU! YOU LACK THE FORTITUDE TO TAKE A LIFE!

(VOICE) – Good Cire…distract him

Val – DON’T YOU DARE PREACH TO ME OF MORAL CONVICTIONS! YOU THINK YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE WITH THE GULL TO TAKE A LIFE!

CIRE – PROVE ME WRONG VAL! I DARE YOU TO GET OFF YOUR HIGH HORSE AND BE A MAN! GO ON KILL ME YOU COWARD! LET ME FEEL THE DEPTHS OF YOUR VENGEANCE!!!

(VOICE) He has too much of his father in him…he won’t do it…

VAL – (stops, looking to Gen) NO…no, I can’t kill you, because in the end you are right Cire. If I kill you I am no better then you are…you took Gen from me, for that I will never forgive, nor never forgive you…but death would be too easy for you Cire…I will NOT kill you simply because…you wish it.

CIRE – (enraged) YOU WILL KILL ME VAL! BECAUSE I SWEAR TO YOU ONLY ONE OF US IS GOING TO WALK OUT OF HERE ALIVE! DO YOU HEAR ME VERSAI!

Val scoops Gen in his arms again, and begins to walk towards a hidden panel in the wall of the academy, the room is dying down as most of the people are dead, or dying…the death squad troopers having been reduced in numbers are met by swarms of storm trooper units, that continue to stream in, but Val knows these grounds well and he knows how to escape and evade them all.

CIRE – KILL ME DAMN IT! YOU WILL NOT LEAVE HERE ALIVE! IF YOU DO I WILL HUNT YOU! I WILL TRACK YOU DOWN TO THE VERY ENDS OF THIS GALAXY!

(VOICE)  - NOW! Do as your sister has taught you…use the Sith training, he will never suspect it, his back is turned…do it now!

Quickly Cire sees a jet of flames erupt to his right, dashing into them, suffering a few burns to his hand, as he watches Val’s feet stop, with his hand curled before him. Cire concentrates on the force and the guidance the voice has given him, just as Val’s figure is turned around, another image of Cire appears five feet from Cire’s current location, the details are practically exact, except for one that the voice overlooked but goes undetected by Val, who is gripped with grief and rage. Cire’s eyes narrow as his lips curl into a grin, controlling this image of himself standing before Val like a puppet.

Val stops, turning back, his eyes narrowed once again, as the orange aura of energy surrounds him again, his anger focusing his rage, for he realizes that this is a battle he cannot end peacefully…no matter how hard he tries he has no other option but the end the game…and so it begins

(VOICE)  - Speak to him through the doppelganger Cire, he must believe you are standing before him, suppress the pain of the fire along your hand, keep it outstretched, feed on the rage, feed on your anger…remember the techniques your sister showed you.

Cire closes his eyes for a moment, then flashes them open gritting his teeth, projecting his voice from his hiding position to his puppet, controlling the dark side created power known as “Doppelganger” a technique Val is unaware of, it is this that convinces Val that Cire is truly standing before him.

CIRE – IF YOU LEAVE ME HERE ALIVE, I WILL HUNT DOWN YOUR CHILDEN AND YOUR CHILDRENS CHILDREN UNTIL I REACH YOU! WHERE EVER YOU ARE WHERE EVER YOU GO I WILL BE WAITING IN THE DARKNESS! AND I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN!

Val’s head snaps up, his lips parting slow and controlled. His fingers trace the newly carved lines of blood streaming from Gen’s body where Cire showed no respect continuing to attack a helpless corpse. If there was ever a chance to save Gen’s life, Val knew it was gone now…and with it, a piece of him as well. In his mind ran through the events of Cire’s meeting with Ras Krueger and Admiral Krevlin, of the Sith initiation plans and Project Endgame. Through Gen’s last breath, the knowledge was past into his soul and now it was time to finish the struggle, this chapter in his life for as Val’s eyes lifted up fully to stare towards Cire it wasn’t to his eyes…but his charred clothing that remained.

VAL – What do you want Cire?

(VOICE) - Challenge him! Make him believe the illusion!

CIRE – Just you…RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW! FACE ME!

VAL – Very well Cire, you have defiled everything I care for, you have lied, you have cheated, you have stole, you have murdered and you have injured me for the LAST TIME…

CIRE – (speaking to the voice) Can he feel lightning? I doubt the image can injure him, I know my sister has told me it is nothing more then a hologram, it bleeds, it breaths, but it can’t harm…

(VOICE)  - No, but you can make him think he’s being attacked, you can project anything you wish except for physically touching him…fire your lighting at him, make him feel everything is real.

CIRE – Its always a long winded speech with you isn’t it Val? LIGHTNEN UP!

CIRE – (speaking to voice) Like this?

(VOICE )  - Yes! Make him believe his eyes…

Cire releases hi shard lightning attack once more, but this time, the bolts hurling towards Val bounce off of him, Val’s hand comes up, as if they hit an invisible wall, bouncing off into the floor and towards the roof in a shower of sparks. With his mind fully set on what he must do Val only utters one last “speech” to Cire before carrying out his plan.

CIRE - (to voice) But he made sparks! I thought you said he couldn’t be harmed by the fancy lightshow…

(VOICE) - He absorbed the light energy and dissipated it, the sparks from the roof are a discharge of his own doings, not your own…his time is drawing near, make this look convincing.

CIRE – (to voice) What do I do? What will he do? How can I keep him convinced? This isn’t going to work! It can’t be this easy! It can’t be done! Let me end this charade and kill him now!

(VOICE)  - NO! You’ve gotten this far Cire, would you honestly wish to end this? You have him right where you want him, he thinks he’s talking to YOU, not your double…Let him believe it, his mind will lead him astray, do not lose faith…trust in me…

CIRE – (to voice) Ok...I’ll trust you…you have better not fail me.

(VOICE)  - If all I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead by now…Finish the illusion, show him the tactic of “misdirection” What the eyes see and the ears hear the mind believes…let him believe it.

Cire struggles to maintain his concentration over the doppelganger of himself facing Val, occasionally making gestures to make his image grin and smile to keep the illusion believable, even to go as far as to shoot glances over towards Gen’s body, licking his lips in defiance of Val’s hold over her. He wonders if he can trust this “voice” that guides him, part of him wants to end the charade and attack Val from behind, creep around out of his agonizing location as the fires cause his body to break into buckets of sweat, but even as the beads sting his eyes, he keeps his focus…the voice has promised him everything he desires and for this…and with no master to guide him, the voice becomes his mentor now.

VAL – After everything I have done, and everything I have tried to keep pure, in the end you can feel gratified that you have forced me to do something I have never wanted to do…never wanted to consult, in the end Cire perhaps you are right, perhaps by this I would become you but either way…

Val’s eyes lower to the floor, his lips a straight line…with a deep breath and a glance to Gen’s eyes, closed for all eternity in her infinite veil of darkness…something inside him snaps.

VAL - THIS GAME IS ENDED!

(VOICE)  - NOW! MAKE THIS LOOK GOOD CIRE! GIVE HIM A PERFORMANCE TO DIE FOR!

Cire grins sadistically as his double mimics his movements along its lips. Narrowing his eyes, controlling the double’s expression to give the best performance of his life, a performance that is so convincing that years after its production, the audience would believe every moment until the final curtain fell.

CIRE – THAT’S IT GIVE IN TO YOUR RAGE! GIVE IN YOU YOUR! Huh??????

Cire looks towards Val expecting another Bolt of Hatred attack or something equivalent, but what he receives is something completely different, as Val paces towards him, his eyes ablaze with blazing waves of yellow-orange energy. Cire snaps is gaze downward, as he feels heat begin to increase at an alarming rate around his legs, before seconds later his legs burst into flames.

CIRE – (shocked, looking down) WHAT IN THE HELL???

(VOICE)  - You’ve got him convinced…now tell him words to live by, make it something good…something memorable.

CIRE– (to voice) This is getting to be so difficult! I don’t know if I can maintain this control! I’m starting to lose it!

(VOICE)  - You are inches from victory and you want to quit? ARE YOU REALLY A THIRD RATE STUDENT CIRE! FOCUS! IF THERE IS ONE MOMENT IN YOUR MISERBLE LIFE THAT YOU MUST FINISH WITHOUT ERROR, THIS IS THAT MOMENT! DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME!

Val does not speak, his face contorted in a shout of pure rage, as the flames from Cire’s legs quickly spread throughout his body, the searing heat almost sending him in shock, but with the Force as his last minute lifeline to life, Cire glares to Val, wanting to deal him that crushing blow…a hint of pain to haunt him throughout the rest of Val’s eternity…Val having paced to stand right over Cire, who has fallen to his knees, now surrounded in a circle of flames, as he clings to his life long enough to unleash his “curse”.

CIRE -  (to voice) What shall I tell him? Gen’s dead, I win?

(VOICE)  - No something more fitting, something he’ll remember over and over again…Before I withdrew from the world of the living, I whispered to his mother… Your son will suffer….your son and your family will suffer for the sins of his father…this I swear.

CIRE – (to voice) Ooo that’s good…let me try…

Cire’s attention focuses upon the image of his other, gathering his words to say as he watches his doppelganger catch fire; knowing very soon his hold over it will cease like a heartbeat. Inflicting his final words before it expires, trusting that Val is ignorant enough to believe his eyes and that this voice will not mislead him.

CIRE – (labored) You………you’re living…without…her…is my…eternal…vengeance.

Val makes no reply, turns and walks away, leaving Cire to incinerate in his prison of flames…. Cire, before his flesh is completely eroded away leaving bone screams a telepathic message to Val.

(VOICE)  - Make him remember it!

CIRE – (telepathic, full scream)  I CURSE YOU VALARYC WINTERS VERSAI! I CURSE YOU TO A LIFE OF PAIN AND MISERY!!!!!!! YOU HEAR ME!!!!!!!!!

CIRE – (to voice) How’s that?

(VOICE)  - Not enough…again, you only have a few more seconds.

VAL – (As Val walks away he stops…and turns back)

VAL – What????

Cire’s lips mimic in time with his toppled other, feeling those last seconds trickle, as his hold to maintain the image begins to fade.

CIRE – Your living without her…. is my eternal vengeance………..HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA*****

At that moment, the concentration is abolished. Cire waits anxiously, wondering if the voice is right, if he made the right choice, or if he should kill Val right there and now while he has him distracted. Cire is delighted in his performance’s final conclusion.

Cire then falls silent as his body disappears behind the circle of flames, Val ponders this for a moment, then turns towards the exit…What Val does not realize is that he has fallen for a clever decoy, as the voice strokes Cire’s inflated ego, and congratulates him on a gripping display.

CIRE – (to voice) I want to kill him! Look there he has his back turned, I could strike him down so easily!

(VOICE) No! I forbid it! He believes you are dead! Let him think this! Your life here is over…Cire died with the puppet…listen to me now, your name is no longer Cire. Your name shall be Quillion and your new life has just begun…
 

~END FLASHBACK~
 

Cire slides his fingers from the scanning device, then slowly looms his widened, joy filled eyes over to Val’s expression, which lays completely awestruck at the imagery he has just witnessed. Val’s lips are parted and his jaw is slightly drooped, his eyes wide and hazed over, both from the pain and the emotional shock plaguing his subconscious…for years he believed that Cire had perished, and who wouldn’t have with such a diabolical illusion? But Val’s mind played through the scene over and over again, there was something that discredited Cire’s claims of survival, and he dwelled upon the single missing element to solidify his story.

VAL – (emotionless) I don’t buy it…

CIRE – (shocked)What’s not to believe! How else can you explain how I stand before you, possessing every memory from our past! I assure you if you think I’m a clone you’re gravely mistaken…

VAL – (shakes his head) Something doesn’t fit…

CIRE – (raises a finger along his chin) Hmmm…oh, you know, you’re right! I know what you want to see that will convince you Val! It’s this little element…But of course, you know the consequence for this information don’t you Val?

VAL – Nothing you can do to me, would injure me beyond how I am feeling right at this moment.

CIRE – Oh…really?

Cire turns to Corrie and holds up four fingers, then smiles towards Val.

CIRE – Nothing you say hmm? I beg to differ…

Cire places his hand back on the smooth globe as another image begins to form on the screen, while he does this Val’s eyes are abruptly diverted from the screen, widening as Corrie pushes the electrical and muscle nodes to level six, which causes his body to tense and throb to the point most men would perish but added to the grueling hellish treatment, the blades click up four more pegs on their tracks, carving into Val’s flesh 32 fresh lacerations through his upper thighs, and lower forearm regions.

The act is so traumatic that Val’s body instantaneously goes into overdrive, as his wounds prior are torn open as blood rushes out the severed skin like water busting through a dam, leaving Val oozing with a crimson wash along his body, spilling to the floor, as the combined 64 lacerations along his body all bleed profusely. The effect causes Val’s vision to blur slightly, and his head to become slightly dizzy feeling his arms no longer recoiling to the electricity as every once of energy in his body begins to drain from him, hanging on the “X” chair and held up only by its bindings, no longer under his own power.

VAL – It…mak….ma…makes…litt…little…sense…to make…me…pass…out…from…your…games…

CIRE – Oh but my dear Val, that’s what the electricity is for!

Cire watches in glee as Val’s eyes flash back to life, as volts of stinging energy course through Val’s body, awaiting for his subject to focus on his next devious revelations he wishes to give him. His signal is a slight, gaze from Val’s hazy brown eyes, to continue.

Cire’s fingers grip along the device below his palm as another image begins to play on the screen, this one perks Val’s attention a bit more because it has the object of his desire, Gen Zeridian within it, a pivotal moment that Cire wishes to etch into Val’s mind to rise his wells of doubt and overtake his self confidence.

CIRE – Do you remember this Val? Do you remember this one single moment?

(FLASHBACK IMAGE ON SCREEN)

GEN – YOU WANT TO SEE HOW NASTY I CAN BE CIRE? YOU WANT ME TO SHOW YOU JUST HOW MUCH OF A BITCH I CAN TRULY REALLY BE!

As Cire underestimates Gen’s force enhanced speed, she reverses the handle of her saber, so that the emitter shroud is facing the opposite end of her razor sharp triangular points along her hilt. Waiting for the appropriate moment to see the whites of Cire’s eyes, Gen’s wrist quickly sends the points of her saber raking across Cire’s left cheek, tearing into his flesh, causing four distinct lines of blood to form down it.

CIRE – ARRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

(END OF FLASHABACK)

Val pants watching the monitor recalling the event quite well

VAL – Tha….that….tha…that’s my…my…girl…

CIRE – Yes…you do remember that don’t you Val? But let’s slide that image of my face next to the image of my face before you killed me. Through the magic of stored memory I can file and rearrange my thoughts however I see fit.

Cire taps in a few buttons along the side of the standing podium, as a split screen forms in the digital monitor before Val’s eyes. The left side shows the current image, frozen with Cire clutching his freshly lacerated face; the lines of four tricking down his left cheek. On the right side, the image of Cire screaming shortly before Val sets him on fire plays…he then holds the images in place. Cropping then zooming in on only close-ups of the faces.

CIRE – Time for that question Val…what do you see different?

VAL – In Windu’s name it can’t be true!

Val’s eyes peer along the left cheeks of both version of Cire, as he looks back and forth rapidly from one side to the other, through his blurred hazy eyes he notices right away that there is indeed truth to Cire’s claims of survival for the figure sliced by Gen’s lightsaber bleeds on the left, while the image on the right…

The scars are not there…

Cire cackles from his podium as he watches Val’s eyes widen like a terrified deer. His lips quivering in utter disbelief and yet there was the proof clear as day. Cire was telling the truth, He had managed to trick Val for over 25 years into believing that he was dead…Val’s heart raced within his chest as he swallowed in the details. He had to admit that as clever as he might have been, and as sure as he had placed his faith into his past…Nothing was to be trusted any longer…

Nothing was as it appears…

CIRE – So wise is my conscience Val, “What the eyes see and the ears hear, the mind believes.” If I’m a third rate student who can fool his superior Teacher…then I believe I deserve an A.

Cire smoothes his fingertips over the base of his scanning device, letting the image sink into Val’s down turned facial features. He knows that the mental aspect of his challenge was taking its effect; coupled with the extreme physical tones leaving Val a bloody, shattered shell of a man…his conscience had already foreseen this event…by some unearthly power. The fact that everything was falling into place as the voice has told him only made his faith in “The Curse” strengthen even further.

CIRE – Tell me now Val, tell me how superior you are! Tell me you deserved to be by Gen’s side when you lacked the level of skill you thought you had achieved!

VAL – (struggles to speak) You…you could….couldn…couldn’t do it….on…your…own…like..alwa..always…you..had…to…cheat…

CIRE – How did I cheat?

VAL – You listened to…a voice….you didn’t handle…your own…destiny…you lapdog…you sold your…soul…to a life…of servitude…I laugh…at your…superior…intellect.

Cire screams in frustration as he knocks Corrie out of the way and turns the dials to almost their maximum settings, as Val’s body is viciously assaulted and carved into. But nothing stops Val from laughing now, perhaps delirious or out of his mind with confusion, Cire nearly brings him to the bring of death before the voice commands him to cease…

VOICE – STOP THIS AT ONCE QUILLION! YOU CANNOT KILL HIM! YOU KNOW THE PLAN! DO NOT ALTER IT! IF YOU KILL HIM YOU WILL LOSE IN THE END!

CIRE – (shouting to the voice) I WANT HIM DEAD! I’M TIRED OF SPARING HIS LIFE! I LISTENED IN THE FIRE! I HAVE HIM NOW LET ME KILL HIM! LET ME FINISH THIS!

VOICE – NO! YOU WILL OBEY ME AND WAIT! DO YOU WANT YOUR PRIZES TO GO UNNOTICED! THINK ABOUT IT QUILLION! THINK OF THE FURTHER PAIN YOU GAN MAKE HIM LIVE WITH! HE WILL DIE BUT NOW IS NOT THE TIME! LISTEN TO ME!

Cire scowls at the top of his lungs, whipping around away from the machine as he returns the levels back to their normal, but now lower settings as Val has sustained a amount of damage the likes few men would ever achieve, held to life by his sheer stubborn nature, and his undying loyalty to never let Cire win, still embedded in his mind, as he tries to absorb the pain and numb it by his will alone…Val’s mind burns with the desire to kill Cire once and for all.

VAL – (barely audible) You want to kill me Cire…. I can see it in your eyes…have you no will of your own? What holds you back?

CIRE – SILENCE!

VAL – No…you started this…the lesson is not over, I still have much to learn…

CIRE – YOU MOCK ME! YOU DARE LAUGH IN MY FACE! WHAT DO YOU HAVE VAL? YOU LOST YOUR SISTER, YOUR MOTHER, YOUR FATHER, YOUR LOVER, AND YOUR FRIENDS! EVERTHING! WHAT IS THERE LEFT FOR YOU TO POSSESS!

VAL – (struggles to breath) I have…I have…honor…I have…freedom…you, you sold …sold your soul…while I…I still have mine…you will never…ever…take that…from me…never have…the…freedom…I possess…

CIRE – You speak of freedom? YOU DARE SPEAK OF FREEDOM! I’LL SHOW YOU FREEDOM VAL! I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT PRISON TRULY IS! YOU WANTED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SISTER!

Cire grabs the controls of Val’s chair and turns it to the far left, where a giant black sheet blankets along a protruding shape within the wall, as he rushes up towards it, and grabs a fistful of the cloth and tears the fabric from the rod securing it, as the cloth falls he shouts at the top of his lungs to Val.

CIRE- HERE IS YOUR PRECIOUS SISTER!

Val’s eyes flare as his vision locks on to the cold steel structure, his teeth instantly grinding together as his body finds a newfound rejuvenation within its injured realms, Val’s anger fueling the blood pumping through his veins as he stares in horror to the structure affixed to the wall, the jet black cloth now falling to the floor as the torches of fiery orange blaze in a sudden, dramatic flash of brilliant light. The devil standing before the rectangular sculpture, grinning from ear to ear…

For Val sees his sister’s body encased in a carbonite tomb like a sick work of art. Her body is bound and he can tell that from her slightly opened mouth and widened expression, she was frozen alive…from this anger boils a small measure of hope as it gives Val the edge he needs to regain his grasp on faith in some form of rescue…Cire revealed the display to purge his guilt and enrage Val’s anger and he has done just that but the act of vengeance is only as effective as the man who inflicts it. For Val the sight fills his veins with boiling hot rage, rage that Cire would do such a thing to his ONLY sister. Whether Sara was alive behind the tomb of gray and blues…he didn’t know, all he wanted to do was get his hands around Cire’s neck and rip his head clear off his shoulders…but there was one question that mingled with the feelings of anger and caustic rage…he wanted to know what voice dared to interfere in his plans for a new found revelation fell upon his mind now…

He wanted to know its name…

Cire didn’t do this to his sister, and Krevlin didn’t kill his family on his own…it wasn’t fully their desires it was the one they followed, whatever every the voice was directly responsible from his parents death, to the death of his lover, to Malcolm’s explosion, to the formation of Cire’s power. The revelation did come to him now as the dream had warned…

The force responsible for all his pain, all his misery was not inflicted by vengeful men, by jealous third rate students, not by the Empire, not by the Dark Jedi Council, not by Quillion, not by Krevlin

From the beginning, from his birth, to his present it was The Curse

All along…

What Val wanted to know now was simple one question, no longer did he care for the particulars of Cire’s escape or Krevlin’s survival…all that he wanted to know was its name, he wanted to know The Curse’s origin, for once this voice had a name…it would have a physical presence and anything that is no longer a phantom, no longer a myth…

Can be destroyed…
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI TECH – GABRIEL’S QUARTERS

As the fireplace flickers into darkness and the one who lit it lies within his comfortable chair. The entrance to Gabriel’s quarters slowly opens as several men rush in to investigate the shocking display witnessed on the sole security camera. Michael was quick to inform Lance of the detail, as Lance paces into the room shortly after four other armed security personnel.

His eyes roam from the drops of blood across the floor, to the trail leading up along various fabrics to the chair, where the outline of a figure can be made out, but his features for the moment are plagued into darkness.

GUARD – What in Wayland’s name happened in here?

The guard motions to three medical personnel who rush towards Gabe’s body and attempt to revive him, quickly pulling their various medical instruments struggling to get a pulse. It is the sound that comes from Lance that ceases their efforts, whom has drawn a flashlight and is shining the beam on to Gabe’s relaxed form.

LANCE – (sighs) Forget it…we’re too late. He’s beyond our help now. Look there, see?

Lance shines the light along Gabe’s thighs, towards his chest cavity, his heart missing from within. Under the fatal well, several stabbing wounds are visible along his abdomen, thighs, and upwards along his shoulders.

LANCE – (growls) DAMN IT! I’M SICK OF PLAYING GAMES WITH THIS FILTH! How many people have to suffer before we can stop this lunatic! This just gets worse and worse!

Lance spins out of the room, and steps outside, trying to wash away the vivid imagery witnessed through his gaze. One of the medical staff calls out to him.

ADAM – Uh Lance Sir…you better come back in here…we’ve found something else.

Lance raises an eyebrow, then slowly musters his courage to reenter the grisly scene, stopping short of Gabe’s body, to glance upwards as Adam Durlock, the Head of Medical Relations shines his own flashlight towards a message written in blood on the wall.
 

“DEATH IS THE PRODUCT OF CHANGE”

“5”

LANCE – What does that mean?

ADAM – I don’t know sir but I believe it’s a message intended to be left to you…some sort of sign maybe? A clue?

LANCE – a number…

Lance slowly steps along the wall, and examines the flowing crimson letters, then cranes his eyes towards the chair, where Gabe’s body has now been placed into a body bag and is being led from the room. The slashes in the couch catch Lance’s attention. His fingers slowly working over the various, vicious marks etched so deep and with such a degree of hatred, the slashes actually can be seen hacked into the wood underneath the cushioned support of the chair.

LANCE – This wasn’t just your usual, wrong place at the wrong time homicide. These markings were made by something honed to a razor sharp edge, according to the video all we have is a black cloak swirling forward, some parts of it protruding outward, and then it goes off the screen. I’d have to surmise that whoever killed this man, tried to smother the act with their clothing, the protrusions were Gabe struggling, or possibly recoiling from a dagger trusted into his chest rapidity. I need to see Tula on this; there is something to this phrase here…but first…. I need to know something else.

ADAM – What’s that?

LANCE – I need to figure out how he got in here undetected, as far as I know we only got one fruitcake going around these halls killing people, so it appears that the clumsy, innocent looking Dathan is truly nothing more then a bloodthirsty killer…but I’m wondering why he hasn’t just bolted for the nearest ship and try to get out of here…what is his motive.

Lance paces along the floor, watching his step to avoid the patches of blood, trailing his eyes along the scene noticing the security camera above, moving to step below it and take its place in its view of the room, playing back the image in his mind, to the point where the intruder would have gone off the screen. Lance knows that the figure didn’t go through the door, nor did he just hack into a wall and run…he left the scene every clean and untouched, aside from his brutality on Gabe’s body, nothing was overturned.

His eyes trailed along, to the cover to the air duct…

LANCE – No wonder we can’t find him…he’s not running in the halls, he’s in THE VENTILATION SYSTEM!

Lance quickly fumbles for his comlink, waiting for Michael to respond, his heart racing a mile a minute as the game takes on another twist in the hunt for the traitor. Within Lance’s mind he thinks he knows where Dathan is hiding from detection, but be knows that the phrase left behind has a greater meaning, and only Tula would have the answer since she was the last to be the closest to Dathan’ side before he revealed his true motives.

MICHAEL – (comlink) Sir?

LANCE – Michael, I want a scan run on the entire air conditioning level. I believe that our rat has retreated to that location. We need to check that area out ASAP. I also want more men put into place around Tula An’s recovery room, I think she might me another target on his hit list. Dathan has gone from a traitor to a serial killer…we have to be alert…time is of the essence.

MICHAEL – (comlink) Right away Lance! I’m sending out the proper orders as we speak. According to our sources the ventilation systems show there is no bio signatures inside the pipes. If he was there he’s anticipated you’d know his location and has moved to another.

LANCE – (scowls) This guy is fast! Ok we need to scan another other possible overlooked areas by our eyes not the computers, remember that he can avoid most surveillance equipment. The reason we could see him this time was because he WANTED us to see him.

MICHAEL – (comlink) Alrighty Lance, I’ll get right on it and have my people keep in touch with you as soon as anything suspicious is discovered.

LANCE – (pauses) Wait…What’s the status of those camera interferences?

Michael from his location covers his hand over the comlink mic, and taps Matthew on the shoulder, seeing that the boy has scribed down several numbers in the past fifteen minutes.

MICHAEL – According to his list, cameras 112, 113, 114, 115 have had a disturbance of about three seconds, which occurred one after the other…

LANCE – Occurred one after the other? Then that means he’s running again…and it’s not a camera malfunction it’s a jamming signal! Tell me where that is!

Michael punches up some numbers on a massive panel filled with blinking lights before him, as a screen before him flashes through several different locations and technical specifications.

MICHAEL – FLOOR THIRTEEN!

LANCE – I need to speak with Tula An, you need to dispatch a security force to that level and SEAL IT OFF, I WANT THAT RAT TRAPPED.

MICHAEL – (comlink) Taking care of it right as we speak Lance. I’ll keep you posted on any other developments that occur as they come up.

LANCE – Excellent…I’m heading down to Tula’s floor right now to talk to her, the rest of the staff will clean up the mess in here and get things in order. I have a feeling that Gabriel is not the last target on his list and I’ll be damned if he’s going to get Tula while I’m alive.

Lance secures his comlink and dashes from the room, paying only a momentary glance as he looks above him to the ventilation system growling under his breath at the simple things that are overlooked, but he has some direction now…he doesn’t know if Dathan knows Lance has discovered the flaw in his stealth capabilities but he hopes that it might give him the edge, to save another life from being taken.
 

INTERIOR: KILLIAN CITADEL – THRONE ROOM

Val’s eyes quivered as he glanced to the cold, deathly pale surface of the iron tomb affixed to Cire’s wall. Within laid the last living connection to his past…encased, frozen in time but not forsaken. Val’s body had managed to subdue the intense injury riddling his arms and legs with endless lines of crimson, wounds inflicted by the razor sharp, unforgiving fury of The Puppetmaster’s sadistic torture devices. The four-boxed units had managed to arrive at a location, where they could no longer move forward at the extent of their trails.

Most normal men would have perished halfway through the journey, but Val was not such a being. His willpower alone brought him through even the most extreme of injuries…even damaged to the brink of death by Crymson Vachon years ago; it was his love and his desire for it that sped his recovery. Even now as he watches Cire’s cruel, narrowed eyes roam over the carnage he has caused, Val’s mind is split between the will to survive, to escape…and on the other end of his desire…to know the truth.

VAL – (growls, slightly lowered tone) TELL ME CIRE…..

Cire paces along the floor, casually placing one foot along the other letting his eyes move from Corrie, his captive to his prey. He too is conflicted between destroying the man he has harbored his hatred against most and heeding the warnings of a voice he knows, he must obey…one more personal then a Head Mistress, a Dark Jedi Master, or high status Imperial agent. The conscience has delivered him from the jaws of death…it has watched over him…it could read the thoughts of others; it gave this ability to its most loyal disciple. This was the secret of Cire’s all knowing tactics…he listened, he waited…then and only then when he knew everything rationally…did he react.

Now here he was, exactly as he had desired…he had Valaryc Versai at his mercy, he had his friends under his control…he had power, he had a kingdom in his Killian society…and men to control through his drone forces…and one other attribute that would come into play…

He had a weapon…a weapon of such immense power that even he could not bare to escape its attraction. He knew this and he embraced it…and yet he also knew that his custom fabricated device would finally deliver the crushing blow to Val’s soul…physical, emotional, mental…

Cire’s fingers traveled along his beard, which was no longer, the void of black but turned a deep, flat, gray. He listened to Val’s continued shouts…his desires, and he denied them for the moment. Relishing in the voice of his “Teacher” begging for his wisdom…now brought about the question, who was now the Teacher and who was the apprentice?

Val understood the powers of the force, he understood the ways of combat…but in the book of his true future, he was a fledgling. Cire was given the details of his existence and its significant connection to the Versai family…a secret, a revelation that finally shattered the last of his doubts in the voice he followed, a unified chain that extended from ages before his forged relationship with the man bound to his menacing chair…was it time to tell him? Had the moment come to finally reveal to Val the cause of his suffering? His solitude? Yes….the answer streamed through his thoughts, pacing back towards Val stopping before the scanning orb once more sliding his fingers along its surface.

VAL – TELL ME THE TRUTH CIRE!

CIRE – Silence…

Cire snaps his gaze as Val submits to his command…Cire basking in the power of his control he wielded now…Val was hanging on his every word, this excited the third rate student…but he knew once his secret was revealed, once Val understood the past…his world would forever be changed.

CIRE – Tell me Val, do you every wonder why it is that we have been drawn to one another, time and time again? Even now twenty-five years after our training in the academy, destiny has drawn our paths to cross once more. Why I know what you might be thinking, you’re wondering why I bother…why I care to complicate your world more then you wish it…

VAL – (narrows his eyes) It’s in your nature to stay in the spotlight Cire. I wonder only one thing…why you listen to authority when you have proven yourself to despise it.

Cire’s eyes flash with a ting of anger, but he suppresses the emotion and masks over it with a soft chuckle.

CIRE – I’m going to tell you what it is that haunts your dreams, invades your happiness, slays your friends and dooms you to a life of misery and solitude. I am not going to tell you, to relieve your questions…no, no, no, I am going to tell you because I want to see the look in your eyes when you learn that everything you have suffered though…is your own fault.

VAL – (growls) My fault? I DID NOT ASK FOR THIS CURSE….

CIRE – You’re right…you didn’t ask for it, but you were born into it. You had a choice Val…you could have embraced your darker destiny…you chose to defy it, you chose to fight what you were meant to become and pursue the endeavors of honor and humility. Because of this, you suffer.

VAL – As opposed to what? Taking the quick and easy path to the dark side like you? What have you accomplished on your OWN Cire. Without this voice, you were NOTHING. A spoiled brat who cried whenever the boys made fun of him, threw a tantrum when a girl said no to him…YOU ARE WHAT YOU ARE BY SLAVERY…Not by your own deeds.

CIRE – NO! YOU ROBBED ME OF GEN ZERIDIAN! YOU AND YOUR BROTHER STOLE MY PLACE AT HER SIDE! YOU FORCED ME TO BETRAY IN ORDER TO CO-EXIST IN MY OWN HOME! YOU INVADED MY SPACE! YOU INVADED MY LIFE…NOW YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE YOUR SECURITY RIPPED FROM YOUR GRASP!

VAL – (growls) Don’t preach to me of ethics…It was your error in judgment in combat, your impulsive, impatient nature in love, and your arrogant pride that prevented you from achieving your goals. YOU ARE WEAK CIRE…YOU WILL ALWAYS BE THIRD RATE.

Cire scowls and gestures for Corrie to turn the dial up once more as Val’s body recoils from a massive discharge of electricity ripping through him, re-igniting the aching of his muscles and the wounds covering him in a blanket of crimson. Cire then signals Corrie to let up as he walks up and whispers into Val’s ear…

CIRE – (whispers)You’re going to love this…it’s a real doozy.
 

INTERIOR THE KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – UPPER DAIS

Just then, Maligna appears through the side door of the platform above where Cire and Val are located, at the base of the stairs below. She begins to pace forward, then stops suddenly. Her focus upon the mishaps of the Biotech lab lost in her thoughts as she listens to the conversation, seeking to report when there is a proper moment. She then looks down to see that Quillion’s mask was settled next to the throne. Though she couldn’t see clearly Quillion’s identity from her position, all she could see was the outlines of his silver-gray hair, and listen to his words…lifting her eyes to the massive view screen before her.
 

INTERIOR THE KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – LOWER LEVEL

Cire’s palm slides along the base of the scanning orb, as a picture begins to flicker on the massive screen along the wall, Val’s eyes twitching a bit as he tries to focus on the picture…the figure of a female appears, draped in a jet black robe with patches of red fire designs running along it, down the collars, and encircling the rims surrounding her arms. Upon her face, is a crimson red tattoo of the very same logo Quillion has used for his Killian insignia. Her eyelids are painted with red, but her eyes can be seen within the horned elements of the graphic, the sword section running from the between her eyes, down the bridge of her nose, along broken only by her lips, continuing to her chin, along her cheeks the horns curve inward and stop. Atop her forehead, a down turned crescent moon is revealed.

CIRE – (glances to Val) Do you know this woman?

VAL – (blinks, trying to focus) I’ve seen her before…in a dream…a vision…

CIRE – You’ve seen her, she invades your dreams, your nightmares...but you do not know whom she is do you?

VAL – No…

CIRE - (grins) Strange…because your parents seemed to know her…or at least they thought they did.

VAL – eh?

CIRE – Through the use of holographic technology and computer assisted environment creation, statistics based on physical parameters and other technological informalities…I’ve prepared a very revealing picture show…especially for you. Based upon what the voice has told me, I came to realize a startling revelation.

VAL – (raises an eyebrow) What is that…?

Cire walks over to Val and slides his finger along the crook of his cheek, glaring deep into his eyes as his lips curve into a malicious grin.

CIRE – You and I are connected…since before our time. Our families have been at war with one another long before you and I even crossed paths. Before Gen, before our final battle…before we even understood what in the hell the force even was.

VAL – (blinks) I don’t understand…what are you saying?

Cire paces around the podium, so that he turns towards the monitor, gesturing with his outstretched hand, closing his eyes in concentration momentarily before flashing them open, the images on the screen starting to take shape into a setting to the elegant architecture of stairways, walkways, and elegant stature of the palaces found on Theed.

CIRE – Watch…and learn…
 

FLASHBACK
(CGI Generated…based on data and not necessarily Cire’s memory)

As the images begin to take form, there is a clear and concise picture of three figures, caught within the heat of battle with weapons drawn, shimmering in the subtle sunlight.

KAT – (confused) Why are you doing this? What have I done to you!

ASSASSIN – You know too much! I am here to end you...to send a message to your Jedi friends and your Republic allies…

The crimson assassin swings viciously towards Kat, whom ducks just in time, but loses a few strands of hair, sheared by the razor sharp edge of the crimson witch’s blade.

Russel finally manages to smother the flames, getting back to his feet once more, as he engages the menacing figure assaulting his prized possession.

RUSSEL – I LEFT THE JEDI! LEAVE US ALONE! WE ARE NO LONGER IN THAT PROFESSION!

The woman in red cranes her head slowly towards Russel, while holding her sword towards Kathryn’s neck. With a child Kathryn’s reactions are slower leaving her move vulnerable as she inches her way backward, only to find she’s trapped against the railing of a stairway.

ASSASSIN – Did you think you could just walk away? Do you think it would be that easy?

RUSSEL – I think nothing…I warn you witch, leave my wife alone or else…

ASSASSIN – Or else what? What will you do JEDI. FAMILY IS NOT IN YOUR CODE.

Russel growls towards the assassin, running full on towards her, giving her seconds to stand to her feet and absorb the stinging impact of Russ’s green blade clashing into the razor sharp edge of her sword. The impact is so intense, it nearly knocks her off of her feet, her own weight leaning forward to maintain her balance, as her red eyes glare directly into Russel’s deep blue gaze, through narrowed eyes.

ASSASSIN – YOU CAN DO NOTHING JEDI! SHE WILL DIE, I HAVE MY ORDERS AND YOU HAVE YOUR CODE…THIS GIVES ME THE VICTORY AND YOU THE LOSS!

RUSSEL – YOU TWISTED FOOL! HAVE YOU GROWN DEAF? I TOLD YOU I LEFT THE COUNCIL!

The red assassin steps to the left, as Russel slides forward, using his weight to quickly grab the assassin by the shoulders and flip over her as she holds her sword in front of her hoping for Russ to stumble into the blade, finding her plan backfiring as Russel sends a sharp swipe to the back of her legs with his blade, kneeling behind her as she screams and falls.

ASSASSIN – (puzzled) What! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS! YOU VIOLATE YOUR JEDI RULES OF CONDUCT?

Russel glares towards the woman, kicking her to lie on her stomach, sending his foot crashing into the small of her back. His saber blade lines along her right ear as the humming vibrates her eardrum.

RUSSEL – I am bound by no code…I serve no faction any longer. Family is everything to me now. I warn you, leave my wife alone…end your quest and you’ll live to see beyond this day.

The woman growls below Russ, reaching her sword around, sending a devastating slash towards his thigh, but Russ sees the motion and quickly kicks the blunt edge of the sword down to the ground and slams his foot down on it, pinning the blade to the floor.

The witch scowls as she struggles under Russel’s pin, slowly lifting her hand towards Kathryn as a crimson red glow begins to form. Russel sees this and grinds his foot into her back even harder, trying to disrupt her concentration…still showing a degree of mercy.

RUSSEL – DON’T YOU DARE EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!

ASSASSIN – IT IS MY DUTY…SHE MUST DIE FOR HER CRIMES!

RUSSEL – I WARN YOU DARK ONE, IF YOU INISIST UPON YOUR CORSE OF ACTION I WILL HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO STOP YOU.

The assassin gathers the crimson energy and hurls a bolt towards Kathryn, sending her flying back into a wall, her skull slamming into the stone with such force that she is not only knocked unconscious, but blood stains a trail from the impact to the floor where she lies.

With Russel momentarily distracted by the event, the assassin is able to use his own weight against him and flip him off her back, sending a slash with her Sith Sword across Russel’s right thigh, leaving a spray of crimson in its wake as Russel’s eyes scrunch in reaction to the pain, as she stands back to her feet. Her eyes divert from within the sea of darkness that lies within her raises hood. Slowly she removes the cloth as her gray and black hair spills along her shoulders.

RUSSEL – (gasping) YOU! VACHON…YOU SERVE THE DARK ARTS??? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!

The woman known as Vachon narrows her eyes back towards Kathryn, then to Russel pacing to stand above Russel, who’s eyes fill with both pain and betrayal. Her sword lies along her side…at bay for the moment as she nears her friend.

VACHON – Russel, Russel, Russel…So blind are you to the obvious. Don’t you know it’s always the one you least suspect?

RUSSEL – I…I trusted you! You were my dearest friend! Why do you betray me! I SAVED YOUR LIFE ! Why would you betray Kathryn, you’re like sisters!

VACHON – All staged...I was hired to find you Russel, befriend and gain both your trust…I find it intriguing to learn that you’ve left the Jedi Council for pursue your family…but sadly your son will never be born. My employer provided everything I needed to catch you off guard…its time to reap what you’ve sown.

RUSSEL – (growls) YOU MANIPULATIVE WITCH! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO US! WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR…

Vachon steps over to Russel as she glances towards Kathryn, unconscious on the floor. Her eyes cold and heartless as she cranes her gave to Russel, lining up her sword along his neckline, drawing a thin line of blood from the razor sharp tip.

VACHON – My employer is classified…my mission was simple. Find the traitors in our ranks and dispose of them. When we learned that our faithful intelligence agent Kathryn Versai was working as a double agent, well something simply had to be done about it. NO ONE BETRAYS THE ORDER…no one.

RUSSEL – I swear to Jinn's name, if you harm my wife or my child she carries...I will kill you.

Vachon’s eyes light up as she glances over to Kathryn once more, then back to Russel, thrusting one hand on his bleeding right thigh, causing him excruciating pain. The blood streamed along the pavement like a river as Val looked on from his horrified position. He couldn’t understand what image this was that he was seeing unfold before him. This event held some importance in the search for the truths of his past and he knew well that the name “Vachon” rang a bell, but the woman did not resemble Crymson; she had bits of both Cire and Crymson in her features.

VACHON – You cannot kill me Russel, you don’t have that instinct, you were bred to serve the light side of the force, and to kill me you would have to delve into the darkness you fear most. Oh yes it was fear wasn’t it? Fear that made you leave the council…made you defect. You’ve been expecting this to happen, and it has occured, what do you plan to do about it?

RUSSEL – Let me up and I’ll show you…personally.

Vachon grabs Russel by his collar, moving her sword away, to fling him against the very same wall that Kathryn impacted against, causing Russ to fling face first into the unforgiving stone. But as Russ’s face impacts the stone and Vachon advances, he holds out his hands and flings his foot forward, springing backward into a flip, spiraling back to the stunned Vachon, in his hand he holds his lightsaber as he ignites it in a flash of light, the move is so swift that even though Vachon sidesteps her left arm is severely clipped by Russel’s approaching slash, as it falls to the floor, severed.

VACHON – WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??? MY, MY, MY,  ARM!

Russ stands, breathing heavily and slightly dazed by the impact into the wall above Vachon, seeing that her severed limb still clutches her Sith Sword, leaving her powerless as the cauterized wound no longer bleeds but produces a searing pain along the entire left side of her body.

Russ slowly flings off his lightsaber and clips it to his belt, picking up Vachon’s own weapon, grasping the handle in his left hand, holding the blade to her own throat, as his wife stirs from her spell of darkness, slumping to her feet…blinking softly.

KAT- Russ…..Russel….NO! STOP!

Kathryn rubs her head as Russ begins to form a stabbing gesture, glaring down towards the twisted woman below him. In his mind, the code of the warrior buzzes…the girl he trusted, the girl his wife trusted and rescued from her captives betrayed them…his anger boiled seeing the blood stains on Kat’s clothing and the stream along the wall, caressing his injured thigh…he could end her right here and now on the basis that she was willing to die for her mission’s success and yet his wife forbade him with her desperate pleas to save her husband from traveling to the darker path.

RUSSEL – (glaring down to Vachon) WHY DO YOU QUESTION ME KAT? THIS FILTH TRIED TO KILLYOU! SHE TRIED TO TAKE YOU FROM ME!

KAT – (pants) But you can’t murder her…you don’t have the right to take her life…

RUSSEL – WHAT RIGHT HAS SHE TO TAKE OURS! SHE DESERVES TO PAY FOR HER CHOICES! SHE HAD A CHOICE!

Russel glares down to Vachon as the woman starts to laugh below him, egging him to finish his desires, laughing loudly in his face, like a cackling hyena.

VACHON – Yes Russel…give in to your nature! Go on…kill me, if you do not kill me I swear I will not rest until I have finished my mission…Kill me now while you have the chance…

RUSSEL – DON’T TEMPT ME…You attacked my wife, my unborn son…YOU BETRAYED MY TRUST...You deserve to die…

VACHON – YES! STRIKE ME DOWN RUSSEL! GIVE IN TO YOUR HATRED!

Kat struggles to her feet, stumbling towards her husband, moving up behind him, as he braces himself on his good leg, the sword moved now to enter through her chest, with just the slightest push downward. Kat’s fingers slide along Russ’s robe, drawing the sword away from Vachon’s body, trying to break his hold, budging the blade to move to her side, rather then a fatal blow, desperately moving to prevent her lover from making a crucial error in moral judgment.

KAT – Honey please…she’s had enough…she’s paid for her crimes. Look there, you took her arm away from her, that’s punishment enough. Don’t let her be proven right…don’t let her die for her beliefs and take your soul with her…listen to me Russ, don’t do this.

Russel’s eyes flare with anger as he glares to Vachon, who still cackles below him a sadistic grin spread long her lips, looking to Kathryn, then to Russ, not even trying to fight to her feet, her free hand sliding along her hip.

RUSSEL – You heard her Kat…she won’t stop until she kills you and our son! Think beyond your emotional beliefs! If she is let go she’ll try again and again!

VACHON – Oh yes, you’re quite right Russel, I will not rest until I have taken your most prized possession from you…you’re living without her will be my vengeance.

Russel growls, sliding the very tip of the sword into Vachon’s hip piercing flesh but not enough to cause a fatal injury…inches from sending Vachon from a painful existence to an eternal one.

VACHON – What’s holding you back Russ? Love? You love your wife so much that you would listen to her instead of your logics and for that mistake…she will die…maybe not today, maybe not tomorow but I assure you it will come to pass.

Russ growls, and draws back the sword, then plunges the blade into the grass alongside Vachon, glaring towards Kathryn, he spins on his heel and walks away, Kathryn falling into his arms as he paces away reluctantly, to a stunned Vachon, whom for a moment, thought he might actually do it.

Vachon slowly slinks to her feet and grabs the Sith sword, glaring towards Kathryn and Russel, sprinting towards them, using her good hand to wield her weapon. In seconds Russel tosses Kathryn to the ground and spins around igniting his green saber, the hilt of the weapon contacts Vachon’s abdomen, seconds before his blade pierces through her flesh and vital organs, slicing through her liver…a wound in which there is no return.

VACHON – URRRRRRRRKKK…….Ughhhhhhhh…..you……..fool

RUSSEL – You left me…no choice…Vachon…you chose your destiny.

VACHON – (coughs) I have…have…children…you’ve left them…without…a mother.

RUSSEL – (shakes his head) You preach of logic, a shame you known none of your own. You should have thought about their future before choosing your profession Vachon…now you have ruined their lives as well.. but with your own actions.

Kathryn does not see the blinding event, as she stirs once more from the floor, while Val in the clearing watches the spectacle, stepping closer…Vachon coughs violently as she slides cleanly off of Russel’s ignited saber blade, to the floor, staring up into the heavens, as death envelops her body but does not yet claim it.

VACHON – (angered) You may have won the battle…(coughs) But I will win the war…yes, the war I inflict upon you….a curse…a curse that our war will not be finished until the last of your offspring DIES...no living human in this galaxy will break my spell over your family name.

RUSSEL – YOU WILL NOT LIVE LONG ENOUGH TO INFLICT A CURSE…

Russel grabs Vachon’s Sith Sword from her fading grip. Vachon’s lips starting to cough up a dark black liquid. She begins to chant something under her breath, between gasps as Russel quickly stands above her, screaming for her to silence her speech, her own sword looming closer to her chest.

VACHON – You…call…me…a…witch…you…have…no…idea…just…how…correct…you…are.

RUSSEL – SILENCE WOMAN! STAY SILENT, DON’T FORCE ME TO STOP YOU…I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU TO CONTINUE…I’M WARNING YOU…

VACHON – (glares to Kathryn) Your son will suffer….your son and your family will suffer for the sins of his father and his mother…as my children have suffered…this I swear UGHHHHHHhhhhhh

As Vachon attempts to finish her sentences, Russel thrusts her own Sith Sword straight through her chest, pinning her to the ground, within his eyes are tears of pain and rage…he allows his feelings to wash over him in an attempt to single handedly stop the woman from her dark hex.

VACHON – (cackles as she’s stabbed) YOU CAN’T STOP IT RUSSEL….(coughs)IT IS TOO (coughs)TO LATE…..IT IS DON…..IT IS DONE….SINS OF …..SINS OF THE…..THE FATHER…YOU…RUSSEL…YOUR SINS….

RUSSEL – YOU HAVE MADE THE SIN, YOU ATTEMPTED MURDER! I JUSTIFIED MY DEFENSE. I SYMPATHIZE WITH YOUR CHILDREN’S LOSE BUT I DO NOT SYMPATHIZE WITH THE LIKES OF YOU. I WILL ALLOW NOTHING IN THIS GALAXY TO TAKE MY WIFE OR MY SON FROM ME!

VACHON – THEN YOU WILL KNOW LOVE NO LONGER! YOU WILL KNOW PAIN! SUFFERING BEYOND YOUR WILDEST INTERPETIONS!

RUSSEL –YOU’RE ALREADY DEAD! YOU CAN NO LONGER HARM ME, OR MY FAMILY! YOUR LIFE IS OVER!

VACHON – I…C…C…C…CU…CUR…CURS…CURSE…YOU….I CURSE…YOU…YOUR…FAMILY…YOU….YOUR…WIFE…YOUR OFFSPRING…YOUR GEN…GENERATIONS…TO COME….WILL…SUFFER…

RUSSEL – NEVVVVVVVVVVVVVVERRRRRRRRR!!!!!!

VACHON – SINS OF THE FATHER…AS MY OFFSPRING SUFFER, SO SHALL YOUR OWN…

As Russel draws the Sith Sword from Vachon’ chest and attempts to drive the blade down to sever her head, and end her ranting and low chants, her body slowly fades out, the blade passing through nothing but air, driving into the dirt before he can deliver the blow to her physical form…her laughter echoing through the scenery as the sounds diminish.

Within each jump into different scenes, voices utter to him…the phrase the sadistic dark side witch Vachon had uttered to Russel before death drew her from the living…into the spirit realm.

END OF SEQUENCE

Cire’s eyes draw back with a sinister grin as he watches Val’s jaw drop…his eyes quivering with both tears, shock, and denial…the vivid display was created and replicated to near perfection, Cire knew that by the look in Val’s widened orbs, he understood the meaning of “Sins of the Father” and the true…origins of “The Curse” no longer fate…no longer a mystery…but given a name.

But…

This was not the conclusion of his revelation, for Val knew the woman’s appearance now…he knew the tactics well in another…and he knew the name…but what Val didn’t yet understand is the specific connection to his rival…he didn’t understand the direct grapevine between the woman, his parents, and his father’s actions…which were justified. Vachon had no right to bestow a curse upon his family; she had no justifiable cause to inflict such a vicious act upon those faces she would never live to see. Yet, evil needs little logic to weave its deadly poison into its victims, often it is the innocent who suffer…though Val had traveled down the same sadistic path as Cire…he had the strength to turn away from it…

He had redemption…in this, he was innocent….not yet a boy, not yet a man when this women plagued his father and mother with intentions of deception then death…he was forced to suffer, when in a perfect world he did nothing to deserve such a fate…no crime he could have committed could justify the extent of is loss…This is what delighted Cire the most, watching Val gaze in utter horror. That in life Vachon had lost the battle…but in death…she was winning her war.

CIRE – What do you have to say now Val? Is your mind at ease…Are your questions finally answered? Do you fear the truth…or do you accept it?

VAL – (swallows) I…I…I…never….thought…that…All these years…all my pain…all my loss…my life was ruined by…A STUPID WOMAN! A weak willed, malicious, selfish, manipulative bit…

Oh…No…I figured it out…I know why we're connected…

CIRE – (leans in close to Val’s face, inches from it) Do tell...

VAL – Because I suffer for the sins of my father, through….your….mother.

CIRE – Bingo…

Cire smiles with a satisfied grin, head skyward and tipped back, stepping back from the podium, to place one outstretched hand towards Val, and one outstretched hand to the carbonite block containing Isis.

CIRE – WHAT MORE WOULD A CHILD WANT BUT THE GUIDENCE AND LOVE OF HIS MOTHER! YOUR CURSE IS MY REWARD VAL! PICTURE THE LONG AND LONELY NIGHTS WE LIVED WITHOUT PARENTS BY OUR SIDES! THE PATHS WE CHOSE!

VAL – We’re not the same….

CIRE – OH BUT WE ARE VAL! WE BOTH FOLLOW THE GUIDENCE OF OUR PARENTS…LONG AFTER THEY HAVE EXPIRED. YOU FOLLOWED THE CLUES IN YOUR PRECIOUS LOCKET TO ATTAIN YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF YOUR HERITAGE, WHILE MY MOTHER VACHON T'NEGUN TRANSFORMED HERSELF SO SHE WOULD LIVE FOREVER TO COMPLETE HER DESIRES…ITS BY HER WILL YOU ARE HERE NOW….

VAL – Your mother? The disappearance?

CIRE – (smiles broadly) Yes, my Mother, Vachon T’Negun bore two children…the first was my sister Crymson Vachon, the second was me…My sister assumed her first name as her last while I retained the original. My mother lives to this day, not as a physical living being…
 

INTERIOR THE KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – UPPER DAIS

Maligna’s attention suddenly flashed towards Quillion below…the name Cire range clear bells in her mind as she listened to Valaryc speak to him, and his words boast to his captive foe. In that instant she thought over to herself what he had just allowed to spew from his treacherous lips…She knew that Crymson Vachon often spoke to her that Val was her enemy for slaying her brother, and that she would not rest until he was avenged…

MALIGNA – (to herself) Deception…lies…all lies…You bastard, you let your own sister die…you’re alive…how could you hide this from her…how could you send her to die.

Maligna slowly slide her fingers along a salvo of vibro-javelins that lay stored in a quiver along her shoulder…her weapon of choice was not a lightsaber….proven with her confrontation with Val but semi-thick, semi-long javelins. Her blood began to boil as thoughts of insurrection flowed through her veins…or payback, of justice…of vengeance…

Maligna controlled her thoughts though, and quickly suppressed them for the moment, like her Mother, like a viper she allowed herself to waif for the right moment to strike her deceiver. She had been raised to trust him, even after her father’s murder, she was forced to comply with his wishes and she despised him, but Crymson demanded her submission as her Master, and as her Master, Maligna reluctantly held a civil respect with her Lord Quillion…but now

No longer…she wanted his blood, for she realized that Quillion had shielded the fact that he had lived through Val’s battle with him in the Dark Jedi Academy, if her Mother had only known this she might not have made the decision to die…was this the trend of the females though? Trading damnation at the expense of their offspring’s future? Maligna closed her eyes as she listened to Cire speak…if he was Crymson’s brother, and Vachon was her Grandmother, then that would make him her uncle…her cruel, twisted remaining relative…she didn’t want to be part of the sick T’Negun family any longer, she had witnessed what their sense of honor was…for the death of her mother, it was not only Val who would pay…

It would be her Uncle Cire…

Maligna remained, hiding herself in the shadows, waiting for the appropriate moment. She could now sense the lack of the force swirling around both the figures below, she was out of its range and thankfully, she would also be out of range of Cire’s detection of her intentions…

So she listened…and prepared.

Down below, she could see Val’s body riddled with lines of blood, her lips quivering a bit from the site of Cire’s twisted game being played out, bit by bit. She had little compassion for Val, he had chosen to slay her mother, but he would deal with him…after she had a long talk with her uncle first.
 

INTERIOR: KILLIAN THRONE ROOM – LOWER LEVEL

VAL – My Father killed your mother…she cannot live.

CIRE – (grins) But that’s the ultimate misdirection Val! Your father ended her time within the world of the living, but it was the force…the dark side you reject that granted her life eternal…She lives even now as we speak, through these walls, through the air, through me…through your thoughts…She was a Sith Acolyte Val…do you know what a Sith Acolyte uses?

VAL – (eyes go wide) SORCERERY!….But she couldn’t have enough time to….

Cire spins on one heel and throws his hands up in the air, twirling around the room glancing to the screen, Isis, Val, Corrie, and the flaming torches.

CIRE – BUT SHE DID VAL! SHE TRANSFORMED HERSELF INTO A DARK SIDE SPIRIT. SHE PROVIDED EVERYTHING YOU SEE FOR HER SON…FROM POWER, TO WEALTH, TO EVERYTHING I’VE BEEN DENIED…SHE HAS TRANSCENDED DEATH TO PROVIDE FOR ME!

VAL – (shakes his head) So after all this time I thought you might have matured…But I see you as you really are Cire…a lost little boy, not a man, but a baby crying for his mommy and sucking at her breast. When will you learn to grow up and be a real MAN Cire? You need Mommy to provide everything for you because you’re too weak minded to handle things on your own.

CIRE – (growls) Even with your stinging remarks Val, you can’t break the feelings of joy I have right now. Seeing you hanging there, trying to hide your fear…your shame behind your coy remarks. You can’t fool me Val, I know you all too well…

Val’s eyes roam towards the monitor as his mind processes the revelation given to him. Knowing now the missing pieces to the puzzle he’s been trying to erect. His eyes flickered to block out the cackling jeers of Cire’s words, to the vivid after-image of Vachon T’Negun. He had been given the answers to his long sought after questions now…whether Cire’s Mother or Cire himself intended for them to do more harm then good…he used the knowledge well…

That lingering question of what The Curse was, and what it meant to do…what its motives were was now known but more importantly he could rely in the fact that this curse no longer was a figment of his imagination and the questions he had asked himself and pursued to trigger from Cire was now answered…he knew The Curse’s true name…just about everything made sense...but even with the answers given, Cire was also correct in his retort, that Val had now come to arrive to other crucial questions that needed to be answered before he could see the full spectrum of the picture forming…the mystery growing so near to completion…

Quillion’s origin…

VAL – (pants a bit) No…you’re holding something back…something doesn’t fit Cire. In all your Mother’s guidance I would know you…I would SENSE your presence…how can you have possibly hidden your force signature from detection?

Cire’s slender eyebrows rise as he listens to Val’s well-calculated inquiry. Even with the knowledge of the origins of his suffering, Val has managed to keep his cool and still keep up with the game. This suddenly brought a shiver of fear through Cire’s body…if Val was delving into more of his past, his illusion of remaining unknown would be shattered…but what should he do, should he sacrifice his elements of surprise to gloat? To prove to Val that he wasn’t as naïve as Val thought him to be? Would his pride prove to be more important than this mystery?

Slowly Cire reached out to the spirit of his Mother for the answers, letting her voice fill his ears, as time seemed to stand still, slowly he could hear the rasping sound of her voice echo to him…

(VACHON) – He knows the truth now my son…he understands his parent’s sins…Tell him, prove your superior intellect over his own…forget not that your biggest emotional blow approaches even now as you two speak…when he sees the final chapter unfold in our master plan…we will delight and we will survive dearest Cire…and he will die.

CIRE – (to voice) Why not now? He’s clearly bound Mother…I want to kill him…I want to end his life so badly I can taste it…it would be so simple! Why didn’t you let me kill him before? WHY DO YOU MAKE ME WAIT!

(VACHON) – (growls) Arrogant child! Don’t you see that this goes way beyond death and your hatred? It’s about justice my son! Because of his father, you were robbed of my touch! I cannot touch you with my own hands! I’m forced to watch and listen! You wish to defeat Val; you cannot do it with a weapon, or your fists! He is a strong fortress in which no weapon of mass destruction can destroy!

CIRE –(to voice) HE’S WEAK! LOOK AT HIM! HE BLEEDS LIKE A STUCK WOMP RAT!

(VACHON) – Look beyond your eyes Cire, look beyond his own misdirection. He’s using your anger against you to get the ammunition he needs to destroy you. If you kill him…he dies a martyr and you will live with the fact you could never defeat him. Do you want to stain our family’s blood with that dishonor Cire? Do YOU WANT TO BE KNOWN FOR ALL ETERNITY AS THE THIRD RATE STUDENT!

CIRE – (to voice) NO! I WANT HIM DEAD! DO YOU HEAR ME! DEAD!

(VACHON) – Then do not alter our plans…when he sees your weapon against him…he will be powerless to resist and he will die…in his death, but his own actions…you will be victorious and bring the final victory to the T’Negun name!

CIRE – (to voice) Very well…I will continue Mother…you’ve given me everything I’ve ever hoped for, my trust lies only with you.

(VACHON) – Let him enjoy the moment my son…soon it will be his last.

Cire’s eyes open as he gazes to Val, his lips no longer in a grin but a straight lined, emotionless state as he places his hand over the sensor once more. One hand flashes to Corrie as he signals her to send another wave of electricity through Val’s body, his eyes showing a mixture of hatred and impatience, despite his promise to his mother.

CIRE – Ask your question Val…I grow tired of this game….

VAL – (struggles against the electricity) I WANT…I WANT  TO KNOW…HOW…YOU…BECAME…QUILLION…

CIRE – (grins) How did I do it you say? Quite easily actually…You see after you went on your little sabbatical after Gen’s death, My mother instructed me to assume the role of Quillion, but not before paying a visit to Ras Krueger. You might recall that after I slew my Master, I would be given a place within his organization…

VAL –  Continue…

CIRE – Well as you can see here on the screen. There is Ras Krueger giving me a few items of interest. The first is a gold mask to hide my true identity…while the other. You see here, is wrapped around my neck…do you recognize this stone Val? Does the shimmer of its crimson radiance remind you of anything?

Cire slides his fingers along a round, silver and black amulet hanging around his neck. In the center of the locket there is a smoothed tumarian pressure ruby…the same precious stone that is found within the Versai Locket, even more so around the central rim of the amulet, there is two lines of runic writing scribed along the top and bottom of it. The text matches that of the pattern found along Quillion’s own Killian wardrobe.

Val’s eyes widen slightly more as he sees the medallion around Quillion’s neck, recognizing right away what the stone in the center represents…the ironic mirror to his family’s Versai Locket which revealed to be an exact opposite to it, but rounded instead of oval and silver instead of gold.

CIRE – You see this amulet Val? You recognize the lettering? No…of course you don’t you’re a Dark Jedi not a Sith. This is what has kept my presence hidden from you all these years…it acts as a shield to the force, allowing the user to use the dark side at his will but remain masked from the detection of others. THIS IS HOW I’VE EVADED YOU.

VAL – A Sith Masking Talisman? Clever…I didn’t think you have the testicular fortitude to handle one.

CIRE – (grins)You’d be surprised how powerful you can become if you only give yourself fully to the dark side Val. This is what separates us. I gather my power through the dark side freely, while you simply dip into its pool.

VAL – Oh is this why I still have my dashing good looks…Pruneface?

CIRE – (snarls) ALL THAT MATTERS IS THAT I AM IN CONTROL NOW….Do you know what this reading says along my medallion Val? Your father inscribed his philosophy in your locket…so I wrote me own…it reads, “Vengeance is Mine.” Fitting don’t you think?

VAL – (rolls his eyes) It goes well with your ego.

CIRE – (beams) Thanks!

Val’s eyes flutter a moment as he deals with the muscle nods once again invading his already aching body, barely able to keep himself together without the force to aid him. Even with all the distraction he remains focused on his stubborn will to discover the truth, he has since been denied.

VAL – You joined The Sith then…

CIRE – At first…but Ras soon grew impatient with the tallying policies of Emperor Palpatine. He entrusted me with the knowledge of another order he wished to form…his Obsidian Order. While you spent your time building Corporations and shrines, I let Ras do the work for me…acquiring wealth and prestige, a reputation and members…when the time was right and I had built a following of my own, I took it from him…and declared myself…the King.

VAL – Why do you bother with all the theatrics, you knew where I lived why didn’t you just come attack me?

CIRE – Ah that’s the best part of it all Val! I did invade you. I invaded your precious corporation and stole your most guarded secrets with ease…I’ve sold them to the highest bidder and made a fortune, through my sources I acquired the money to build an army against you…My Apprentice within your most trusted ranks has provided me with a gateway into your defenses….

VAL – The Mole?

CIRE – Exactly…The Mole as you call him is my most trusted Apprentice. Not at first was this trust acquired..but he sacraficed his most prized possession for my guidence...his right hand..

VAL - Right hand...where have I...DATHAN!

CIRE - (smiles) Precisely...You see Val, you and he have a little bit of history. It appears that in your darker more impressive years, during that single occurace of medelsome Jedi walking to our doorstep, you were ordered to silence them...in order to preserve the secrecy of our Academy...

VAL - (breaths softly) That was...that was a long time ago...

CIRE - Oh yes, but you see the consequences of that act, bled into your future. You see one of the three Jedi that you murdered....was his only living relative...his Mother. Now you see the connections that form from history truely repeating itself, your father killed my mother, and you killed his. In this light, trust was forged...and loyalty was unquestioned.

Val's eyes quiver for a moment as he blocks out the screams that echo from the three Jedi he slew, when he was a servent to the Dark Side, not a full fledged member, but at the time of his education, the proper morality of who was the enemy and who was a friend, was not known to him.

VAL - Times were different then...I was different then.

CIRE - Perhaps, but It was relatively easy for Lord Jenner under the guise of Dathan Hawkyns with the force at his disposal, to rise up the corporate ladder with VT's honorable CEO leaving it to the muddled, incompetent hands of its youthful, idealistic…employees. You personally did everything you could to preserve peace and honor in your business, sadly consumed by your guilt and self-pity. You left it vulnerable to my invasion. I used your business as a tool for my purposes. Through the trust of your business infrastructure, my Apprentice gained full access to your defense codes, your mansion schematics, location, your top secret Luxor Armor, your ship designs…EVERYTHING I NEEDED to destroy you from within…

Leaving you vulnerable…

VAL – (breaths in deep) So let me get this straight…My father kills your Mother; she becomes a dark side spirit…she aids you now. She’s decided that the time came for me to suffer for Russel’s sins. You became basically a Sith, served Ras then overthrew him. You waited until I gave up before positioning your claws inside my company through your Apprentice to steal secrets and find out exactly where to hit me keeping your presence hidden from my detection through that amulet of yours, all of this leading up to putting me in this chair, listening to you rant and then to kill me?

CIRE – Pretty much…but I never said I would kill you…

Cire paces towards his throne, walking up the steps to his chair and sits down upon it, his mask he wears as his Quillion persona, settled by his feet. One finger comes up to stroke his gray beard, while the other hand settles on the opposite armrest, thumbing down to a control panel set within his throne’s depths. His eyes darting towards Val narrow in both heated hatred and pleasure…for what he is about to reveal next.

CIRE – Take a deep breath Val…you’re going to need it…

What Cire fails to realize, is that Maligna stands in the shadows to his left, waiting, watching…knowing by now she could be detected sensing the force bubble was about to be lifted, she cleared her mind, concentrating on the billowing torches, using the skills her mother had shown her…how to block your mind from detection, and stay focused upon something that would be deemed worthless and thus, shield the real truth from any until it was too late to know the truth behind it.
 

INTERIOR: VERSAI TECH – ELEVATOR SHAFT

Thousands of miles away as Val’s torture continues, the mental anguish spreading through every facet of his mental battlegrounds, within the bustling complex of Versai Tech a single, solitary figure quickly dashes his way through his main desk, packing papers…documents, specifications, and valuable incriminating evidence…in the hopes of escaping with his secrets, and with his life.

News had traveled only through the highest of command, specifically the Board of Directors about Gabriel’s murder…and the threat of a psychopath on the loose, Dathan Hawkyns no longer wanted for treason but for far greater crimes now.

Mitch, one of the remaining members of the Board, quickly closed the lid to his briefcase and made his way out of his office. His eyes leading towards two paths, the first of which led to the main turbo shaft, his intents to escape unprovoked turned his vision from the obvious way to leave the building, to the more subtle and overlooked route to the right. There hidden behind a workspace under construction, was the freight elevator. It ran like a typical elevator would, not propelled by the normal means of transportation, but the good old classic wire and pulley system. The elevator was meant to be used in case of an emergency, but also to transport various cargo that would free up the speedier transit systems of turbo shaft for the staff that needed to get from one place to another, other then the underground subway system.

Mitch’s quivering gaze shifted suddenly towards the sliding doors of the turbo shaft to his left, down about ten meters from his current position now, watching a detachment of Versai Tech security officers spill into the thirteenth floor, where his office was placed. He didn’t want them to see what he had in his briefcase swiftly moving into the cool steel of the elevator that opens before him, avoiding detection just in time as the very same security force, dispatched by Michael Angilis and Lance Jade moves to find the traitor suspected to be roaming the floor…what they do not understand however as the quickly search each room is that Dathan is far more then he appeared, he had been trained in the arts of assassinations and stealth techniques. The belt wrapped around his waist managed to conceal his identity for a short time, still he knew that Lance would be smart enough to figure out his clues in due time…he wanted to lead his prey, but did not want to confront him until he had carried out a previous manner of business. As Mitch’s elevator begins to slowly make its way down the dusky, dirty innards of the shaft…the cables screeching and groaning from their awaken state…he hears a massive mass land above him with a tremendous THUD that shakes his elevator with such force, he is throne hard against the wall inside it.

MITCH – (startled, looking upward) Who…wh…who’s there?

Mitch’s reply is met with a shimmering, blood red lightsaber blade suddenly slicing through the roof above him. Mitch’s body throws itself back in responds as a shower of sparks and bubbling, liquid metal oozes down from above and dribbles its white-hot consistency along the briefcase he momentarily set by his side. His eyes going wide with fright, not sure exactly what is about to happen…but knowing with the recent events of his encounter in the Conference Room…

He was in trouble…

MITCH – G…go…go…away! Leave me alone!

The saber blade slicing through the roof of the elevator, suddenly retracts as a moderately sized circle of bubbling metal clatters to the floor to Mitch’s right, from the swirling smoke above, the hooded face of his attacker can be clearly seen. The figure rips off its hood and a jet black mask with shiny black lenses to reveal Dathan’s cold, focused glare…all the while the elevator slowly moves down floors, reaching the tenth as Dathan perches on the top of the roof, sliding one hand along the cables as they move with him.

DATHAN – Hello Mitchell…did you really think you could run? Oh it was so simple boy all you had to do was play along with my scheme, all four of you…but no, you had to blow my cover…you, Tula, Marc and Gabriel…for that you’re going to pay.

MITCH –  But I followed your orders! I remained loyal to you, even after Tula exposed your ploy!

DATHAN – (grins) Did you really Mitchell? If you remained so loyal why are you trying to escape undetected….what could you possibly be hiding? Could it be that you have a copy of the message Tula An had given to you…the very frequency to my Master’s domain?

MITCH –  What…what are you…you talking about?

DATHAN – Come, come, Mitchell boy…I’m a force user, I know your thoughts…your mind is no more difficult to invade as was this archaic contraption your traveling down within. YOU sought to blackmail me if the meeting was as successful as I hoped it to be…didn’t you…

MITCH –  No! Honest I…..I wasn’t serious! It was just a….just a thought…

Dathan slides his fingers along the cables holding the elevator as they pass deck nine, his eyes flashing towards the closed level doors, then gazing down towards Mitchell.

DATHAN – I have a present for you Mitchell…A token of from those who think creatively, like you.

From Dathan’s gloved hand, bathed in blood, an object plunks before Mitch as he recoils in horror…the dead silence of a human heart…splattering with a sickening SPLUTCH, at his feet…the heart belonging to the fifth member of the Board of Directors…the deceased Gabriel Lions.

DATHAN – (smiles) I warned all of you Mitchell, I warned your kind not to interfere with my plans…and all of you FAILED ME…miserably…Do you remember my warning to you Mitchell? Shall I remind you?

MITCH – No…no please…I had no choice…I never wanted any part of your plans…you forced all of us to comply with your wishes, none of us wants to betray our company…

DATHAN – (growls) Forced? You had the choice, all of you had the choice to remain silent and escape my wrath…I told each of you…Death is the product of change…you all knew it, you all knew a fraction of my power and you all understood that if one of you broke the illusion, if one of you initiated and degree of change, the result was death…you all would suffer for it.

Mitch slides his fingers along his back pocket, where a small hold-out blaster lies pressed between his pants and his back, letting Dathan rant, his eyes watching for any sign of further danger trying his best to divert his gaze from the human heart below him, laying at his feet. His eyes glance over to the briefcase where he had obsessively kept his own investigation in the Versai Tech Mole case…his findings, his combined research he had done with Tula An, but unknown to her is eventual copies of the evidence, which he would send if he were ever in danger…a lot it would do him now, blackmailing what he concluded to be a bumbling fool in a position he desired…proved more difficult than intended. With the evidence slowly starting to burst into flames from the extreme heat of the white-hot metal seeping through the weaker, denser structure of his solid metal briefcase…he now had nothing.

MITCH – (growls) What are you…what…are you going to do? Kill me? What difference does that make now?

DATHAN – It has its purpose…However...

MITCH – (reaching for his blaster) However?

DATHAN – Perhaps you’re right…perhaps I should…release you…

Mitch suddenly draws his blaster and fires off three shots from the barrel, as Dathan’s free hand comes up to absorb and dissipate the deadly crimson bolts. His eyes flashing in delight as he sends the energy back through the elevator’s metallic structure into Mitch’s body, directing a mild but stunning effect of Force Lightning through its structure. Dathan himself allowing the sparks to consume his body for it does not bring pain to him…it feeds his dark side rage. A technique that his Lord Quillion had revealed to him…after he had lost his hand in dedication, Quillion revealed to Dathan or Lord Jenner, being his true name learned to develop other ways of inflicting his revenge upon those who annoyed him, or those who betrayed him.

Mitch’s eyes widen as he feels the excruciating energy of Jenner’s lightning course through his veins, pinned against the wall…barely breathing, while above Jenner bursts into laughter and continues his ranting while he lifts the flow of Force Lightning from his control, before continuing with his plans.

DATHAN – I applaud you Mitch, you have more guts then I thought…you actually TRIED to defend yourself…but its all for nothing boy. You could not destroy me with a hundred blasters at your disposal…your primitive skills are no match for the dark side I possess.

MITCH – They will…they will stop you Dathan…good…good always prevails…

DATHAN – (smiles) Heroic nonsense…This is my stop…this is where we part ways. I’m going to let you go Mitch, to deliver a message for me…

MITCH – You’re going to…to…let…me go? What message?

Dathan slides his fingers along the brim of level seven’s closed doors as the elevator passes just beyond them, using the force to suddenly stop the decent of the containment below him. His eyes shining to Mitch as he draws a fireproof paper from his deep black robe with a gloved, blood stained gray hand. Then tosses the paper down to Mitch, as it flutters along its course, into his charred…grasping hand.

DATHAN – Deliver that message to Lance Jade Mitch. He’ll know what it means, even if you do not.

Dathan grabs on to the cables supporting the elevator, as he uses one hand to trigger and release the protective doors that open when the elevator reaches its proper destination, revealing the safe walkways of the seventh floor, his eyes gazing down the corridor, as he glances downward, and grabs on to the elevator cables with a tighter grasp, his right hand now, coming to rest on the ignition switch to his lightsaber as the crimson red blade extends once more, from its slumber, casting the regions of his face in a ruby red hue.

MITCH – (reads the paper) Huh? What does “4” mean? I don’t understand…

DATHAN – (grins) You don’t…he will…good-bye Mitch, I believe this is my stop.

MITCH – What? What are you talking about! You said you’d let me go!

DATHAN – Did I? Oh yes you’re right…but I never said…alive.

With his final words, Jenner grips the top ends of the elevator cables and yanks himself up, to leave a five inch gap below his feet, using one hand to support himself as he swishes his right forward, sending his blazing lightsaber blade shearing instantaneously through the vital supports of the elevator’s cable mechanisms. Mitch’s eyes blink only once, before Jenner watches the unit, without its vital supports plummet down the shaft of darkness, at an alarming...increasing speed with no brakes. Jenner’s eyes flashing in delight as he holds on to the cables with his clenched fist, extinguishing his lightsaber, clipping to his belt, before swinging outward to grasp and pull himself into the seventh floor opening. With his head coming back to gaze over the abyss, Jenner settles his body on its knees within the seventh floor’s plush red carpet. Watching his handy work unfold, knowing that when Mitch reaches the last floor…he will deliver his message in full.

The severed strands of the main support cables of the elevator glow a fiery red-orange, as the elevator containing the soul within plunges to its final destination, racing past each level with alarming speed and building incredible momentum…the only sound left, echoing through the dark tunnel, is the sound of Mitch screaming for help…

That would never come…

Jenner draws his mask back over his face, and raises his black hood as he drinks in the sweet sound of Mitch’s frightening blood curdling scream…waiting, listening for the distant sound of explosions and the bone shattering impact, hearing the slight echo of the transportation unit’s final stop…snaking his head back only momentarily to gaze upon the column of fire that suddenly bursts up, and consumes the elevator’s shaft in dazzling, radiant light…then fades into darkness.
 

INTERIOR – KILLIAN CITADEL – THRONE ROOM

Suddenly before Val could get a grasp what was going on, the chair he had been bound within released him with a sickening thud to the cold, hard floor. Val’s eyes blinked in confusion now…trying to make sense out of the sudden turn of events, knowing Cire all too well it was not like him to simply gloat and walk away…there was yet another facet to his game. At the moment, Val licked his lips, quenching the parching dryness along them, smoothing his fingers along his arms and thighs, tracing the crusted over lacerations, where the blood was now dry leaving him with a sticky desert sensation as he moved. His eyes lifted towards Cire on his throne above him, growling under his breath…the hate beginning to swell back into his subconscious…that ting of freedom he had been yearning for was now delivered to him on a silver platter but as easy as it might have been for Val to dash up the stairs and kill Cire with his bare hands…he didn’t allow himself to suffer the effects of misdirection a second time.

Cire smiled from his throne and shouted to the perplexed caged animal that had been let loose, his eyes shimmering with delight as he arched against the cushion of his seat. His lips curling into the signature grin he displayed shortly before he unleashed an act of devastation. He had this expression when he slew Gen Zeridian; he had this expression when he slew Ras Krueger…when he slew Krevlin. The question that rose now was what act of devastation did Cire have to reveal to his prey now…

CIRE – Congratulations Val, you’ve successfully survived the first, and second acts of the game. You understand the message I’ve wanted you to realize. You know who attacks you in the night, in your dreams, in your darkest nightmares. Haunted by visions of the past…you will now see that as we are connected by a mutual hatred, there is one thing I now have in my possession that you desire…

VAL – (blinks) Why have you released me? What are you up to Cire? I know damn well you won’t let me just walk out of here…even if I wanted to, I’m going nowhere without my sister and my friend.

CIRE – Who says I wanted you to leave Val? Since you’ve found it so necessary to fight your way into my fortress and endure my punishments I thought it was only proper that you meet the newest addition to my flock.

VAL – I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR FLOCK….

Cire arches forward from his throne, grinning from ear to ear as he watches the massive twin doors to the room slowly begin to part ways. The voice that spoke to him of his surprise being two floors down completing its journey to emerge forth and complete its purpose…draws nearer and nearer.

CIRE – You will…there is one last piece of the puzzle you’re forgetting Val. Something you’ve lost that you’ve neglected to remember in all your infinite wisdom. Shall I give you a hint?

Val’s eyes slowly crane upward as he looks to the ysalamiri to his left in its cage suddenly dip under the polished onyx surface of the Throne Room. The force swiftly held back by his constant call overwhelming his senses as he topples forward to one knee, to control its fluidic gush of power back to through his veins, instantaneously directing the energy into force healing, seeking to mend his wounds. While he looks to Cire as the force swiftly begins to rejuvenate his strength…one question looms within his mind…

Why…

Cire draws Obi Wan’s Lightsaber to his hand from across the room, where Val had lost it in his former battle with him, then quickly aims and tosses the weapon to Val’s quickly caught grasp.

CIRE – You’re wondering why I’ve suddenly released you from the chair, from my control and given you back your weapon…Irrational, as it may seem Val. I assure you this is the FINAL chapter of my game.

While Cire speaks, a figure dressed in a jet black cloak emerges from the opening twin doors of the Throne Room, with its slow pace, clouds of deep blue fog billow along the left and right of it, each step forward sends a trail of smoke hurling, spiraling in circles along the floor of the room, the torches along the walls flare to a intensified brilliance as Cire gestures with his hand towards them, and Val suddenly leaps forward, inches from a column of fire that erupts from the pits along Cire’s throne, at the base of the steps leading to his dais. Val’s eyes began to quiver as his mind started to race…he had recognized the chain of events…the grin on Cire’s lips, the raging fires…and the approaching figure all led up to one thing…

The final battle was being prepared the last stage in Quillion and Vachon’s master plan…the arena was…primed, and ready.

Val slowly let the force continue to fuel his recovery, letting the raw energy seal his multiple lacerations, each line of red beginning to fade away…leaving no scar behind. Val’s second wind was building within his body now, his fingers gripped along the hilt of Obi Wan’s lightsaber, still questioning what exactly was Cire’s motive in all this…what he was being set up to face.

CIRE – (shouts from above) I’d give you the other saber Val…but that would be giving you the advantage! We can’t have that now can we!

VAL – WHAT ADVANTAGE? WHAT IS THIS THIRD STAGE IN YOUR GAME??? WHY ARE YOU GIVING ME A CHANCE TO RECOVER??? WHAT IS THE POINT OF ALL THIS!

CIRE – Val…think a moment…think carefully which clues I have given you. Put together the puzzle Valaryc, you have the answers now, I have nothing more to tell you…nothing more to share beyond this moment…all there is left now to do is ...watch…and wait.

The figure closes within eight feet of Val, walking in a straight line, with rhythmic, fluidic movements…the pace is far too controlled to be that of another Killian Warrior or a Drone, too patient to be that of Crymson Vachon’s tactics…she was in fact, very dead. Val began to try and count down his list of suspects, turning his eyes to Isis behind the carbonite and Corrie still under Cire’s control necklace…he knew The Mole was still within Versai Tech, and that Malcolm was dead…Sacul was miles away, and Krevlin was confirmed to be trapped inside his Mansion…reduced to bones, so the question kept running through his mind…who was this figure?

What was Cire's ultimate weapon?

Cire watched in eager delight as he arched forward on his throne, he marveled at his mother’s genius and at the wonders of technology he had captured and exploited for his enjoyment. Everything he had inflicted on Val was for this one shining moment…nothing else mattered anymore, except the look on Val’s face when he finally realized just how powerful Cire had become.

CIRE – Remember when I told you my Mother gave me EVERYTHING I desired?

VAL – (blinks) Yes…but I still don’t see…

CIRE – Why did I give you a lightsaber Val? Why did I only give you ONE lightsaber…why did I give you a PERSONAL item to wield…what possible reason would I go through all this trouble to arm you, let you recover, and release you?

VAL – If I know you well enough Cire, this is another evolution to your sick game.

CIRE – Physical…Mental…Think it over Val, and I would hurry if I were you, you’re running out of time.

Val’s eyes crane back to see that the figure now had closed to 2 meters from his position, quickly scrambling to his feet, sliding his fingers along the ignition stud of Obi Wan’s lightsaber, his body beginning to call upon the attributes of strength and speed…but all the concentration was suddenly lost in a fraction of a second…due to the extending blade of his opponent draped in the foreboding black robe…

A violet blade emerged from the emitter shroud of its lightsaber…a saber’s shroud that was very familiar to Val; he knew every meticulous detail of his adversary’s weapon of choice. His eyes drew to narrow slits as he felt the anger rising within his veins, the nerve of another wielding his lover’s weapon…he didn’t even consider the last piece sliding into place before his very eyes…the reason why Cire stole Gen’s lightsaber from his grasp, why he waited for time to pass…why he made sure Crymson Vachon herself would ensure its authenticity…

He didn’t realize until he saw the figure stepping closer, waiting…watching through the void of black within its raised hood…

CIRE – (shouting from his throne) I BELIEVE YOU KNOW EACH OTHER TEACHER!

Val’s eyes flicker into a feral intensity as he flicks the switch to Obi Wan’s lightsaber, the sky-blue blade emerging from its slumber once more…to defend to protect against Cire’s ultimate weapon, authentic in all its detail…and effective.

Val’s arms slide his saber forward as he cautiously steps backward, something about the figure’s gestures and posture rings a veil of familiarity within his subconscious mind…that and the words of Cire shouted from above…then he advances.

As quickly as Val sends a cautious horizontal slash to the rouge phantom before him. His blade is deflected by Gen Zeridian’s lightsaber by a powerful blow sent forward, the two blades grinding against one another as a blinding flash fills Val’s vision from the impact. The force of the counter is so intense that Val is pushed back, even standing his ground will all his might, the figure proves to be stronger. Another blow from the violet blade, bared by the robed menace sends Val slamming backward against the wall, it is then that the powerful aggressor grabs Val’s hand and slams it hard into the walls surface causing Val to drop his lightsaber as it clatters to the floor and extinguishes…Val couldn’t understand how the figure could so easily overpower his movements…it was as if he didn’t have the power to resist its wills…its desires, the more he stared into the hood, the more he wanted to know…

From within the hood as the figure held the vibrating lightsaber within its grasp, the blade inches from Val’s face along the left side of it, the specters hooded face moved closer...

Closer…

The violet brilliance of its weapon casting highlights inside the depths of the hood, revealing to Val first only shapes…contours, then strands of hair began to take formation, bright hues mingled within dark tones. It was only at that moment that Val began to understand how this ultimate weapon was easily shattering his defenses.

CIRE – (calling from his throne) ARE YOU READY TO KNOW WHAT I NOW POSSESS THAT YOU DESIRE VAL? DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHO YOUR OPPONENT IS?

Val’s eyes crane from the ghostly facial regions continuing to take shape from inside the void of obscurity within his challenger’s hood, glancing skyward to Cire, then back to the figure again.

The cloaked menace slowly arches backward, and brings its purple saber to face downward towards the ground, tip facing…. freeing one of its hands, to grip the fabric of its hood….akin to Cire revealing his face behind his helmeted mask of Quillion, so too was this mysterious form breaking its mysterious captivation within Val’s psyche.

The figure rips off the hood in an instant, as its purple eyes shimmer locked, dead on with Val’s quivering, suddenly widening gaze. Val’s lips part wide as his jaw drops literally if it were long enough to the ground itself, frozen in panic…in fear…in doubt…in denial…in utter shock.

The figure standing toe to toe, eye to eye with Valaryc Versai smiles sadistically to its prey, running one delicate finger along his bare chest, moving upwards to the base of his neck, then grips around him tight like a vice, yanking him forward…the figure is clearly female and the secret of its easy domination of Val’s superior combat techniques was clear…

VAL – I…I…I…Its…Its…not….how can….you?

VOICE – How can I what Val? What’s the matter? Isn’t this all you wanted in your miserable life?

Val’s body stiffens, and his heart beats at an alarming rate as all of his power over the force is suddenly dropped from his total lapse of concentration. With the hood drawn back now, and the mystery revealed, he understood all of it now…Val understood the deception, the theft, the waiting…the torture, and the showdown taking place…toe to toe with Cire’s ultimate weapon, and his ultimate desire…he saw that through the woman staring back to him…they indeed were connected on a very…very…personal level.

The words that came from Val’s lips told it all, ripped the sheet off the mystery, off everything that was leading up to the moment at hand…

VAL – G…G…Gen?

Cire’s ultimate weapon narrowed its cruelly focused eyes, drinking in Val’s scent, tightening its grip over his throat, drawing him closer, yanking him to the point, their lips practically touch…

VOICE – (drawn out, and seductive) Hello Val…

With her words, exact in every detail to Val’s slain lover…the one named Gen Zeridian cut down by Cire now apparently aligned with him draws Val’s lips close, kissing him softly…letting him see what she has seen, experience what she knows but the images that Val sees are not that of a passion burning between he and his lover, twenty five years in the past…there is no soothing “I love you” exchanged between her voice and his own no…

The images that Val experiences are that of his worst nightmares images of such devastating consistency they shatter his mental landscape like glass. There within his mind, his eyes not even closed staring into this figure’s dazzling purple gaze he sees the vivid imagery of Cire and the figure of Gen Zeridian in the troughs of passionate lovemaking…then standing at an alter…exchanging rings…sharing a kiss…embracing each other in feral lust. Gen’s lips roaming along the crook of Cire’s neck, while her played fingers massage his bare chest, her hips straddled over him, as she moans passionately in his ear.

Gen breaks the kiss from Val, as she lets him absorb the vivid imagery, running her fingertip along his lower lip. Moving it from his neck, and then quickly back upon it…

Cire waves his hand from the apex of his throne, as the huge monitor along the wall flares to life, showing a image of Cire and Gen kissing each other, sharing a heated moment of passion, the depth of Gen’s attraction to various parts of his body and the positions of his own hands along her backside, and up to her breasts, knowing full well that Val sees this from his position far below his feet.

CIRE – NOTHING YOU HAVE SEEN ON THIS MONITOR IS A LIE…IT IS ALL TRUTH VAL! ONLY IN THE END WILL YOU COME TO UNDERSTAND IT.

The figure of Gen leans close to Val, then rips him from the wall, holding him up to gasp for breath with one hand and draws him inches from her eyes…

GEN – Experience the revelation Valaryc…and prepare…to meet…your…destiny.
 

CONCLUSION

The raw power of Gen’s hand nearly shatters Val’s windpipe as she spins around in a half circle clutching his throat then thrusts outward, launching him, sending Val’s shocked, tattered body flying to the opposite end of the room. His body reeling back with such force, that he barely registers the sensations of his spine contacting the unforgiving structure behind him as he slams into it. His eyes losing their focus while the vivid images of his first love and his hated rival haunt him within his shattered mind. He now understood what the significant meaning to the last part of Cire’s challenge was…

Physical…Mental….

And now…

Emotional…

His eyes craned towards Gen’s slow pace, her lightsaber humming along her side with her seductive movements…Val’s psyche was torn in half now, his concentration over the force had reverted his control to that of a lowly Padawan, exactly as Cire had intended and as Vachon had predicted, there now came a choice he had to make, a choice forced upon him, proving just how horribly sadistic Cire truly was…

Cire now left him with only two choices…

Send Gen Zeridian back to the grave…

Or…

Perish…