Dormant

[Bile]

For too long now I have slaved to sustain this life. In the vast reaches of this galaxy we went into hiding for the sake of survival. Mygeeto: a frozen planet known for it's prosperity through trade and immense wealth; it was supposed to be our savior. Yet day in and day out I find myself traversing the endless tundras for naught. I am searching for a means or a way to validate this endless recluse. Needless to say I have nearly exhausted all possible options to keep myself any slim fraction of sane. Blinded by his self-induced state of arrogance my master has disregarded my appeals for relocation, claiming I am but ignorant and do not understand the whole picture. What do I see? I see endless rain of snow that refuses to halt. I see a wasteland that is soon enough to be our communal tombs and what will be our lost sarcophagi.

I grow weary of this trade. Dates and times began to lose their meaning once it had crossed the fifth cycle. Our numbers are dwindling and I'm told it is for that very reason that we must play the role of rodents, trapped in a corner, groveling. For what reason?! Are we not already good as dead here?! No, I will not accept this any longer. I have already began the first steps to liberation. There is a port within the caverns where the InterGalactic Banking Clan has setup some embargo vessels. They have a sizeable fleet always in orbit, but I believe if I may get aboard one of these ships I will have a means to finally escape this purgatory.

He sickens me. He is a disgrace to what it means to be of our kind. Vile, disgusting coward. I will make him drown in his blood and rue the day he forsake me to this ball of entropy. I will return us to our rightful place. I will crush those who have stood in our way and I will kill them all. I vow it upon my very blood, the blood that is traceable to the first of us.

Within this castle of glass we have spent the past many moons, proverbial. I cannot tell you the last time I was able to see through the sky to see the lights overhead. Endless night. Warmth is but a ghost. When we first landed this cave was inhabited by what felt as the primitive native culture. Rather than sully my hands with the task of enslaving them, I simply settled for skinning them and draping them as ornaments outside. At first it was not a worthy deterrent, but as time went on the count rose. They got the message, eventually. Master has spent the cycles wasting away on the tales of his faded glory. With no ambitions of ever leaving it has become painfully evident to me that he is but a shell of a conscience. So I have done what I must.

As he lays at night asleep I watch from my corner. I calculate meticulously every minute detail. I cover every angle hypothetically and ever possible outcome. I bide my time and I watch and I wait. It started as subtle impressions, mere inklings of piece of a puzzle.

"It is cold." With the first imprint it felt natural to him.

"It would be nicer to be warm." The conclusion I imprinted made sense from the first natural thought.

It had to be simple enough for his mind to wrap around as to not reject it. I have spent every hour honing my skills on the natives. It started as a project mostly but then became my sole source of survival. As time has passed I have progressively dug the hole deeper, further into the depths of his decrepit mind.

"You are tired of this life." It began to molt and take shape.

"You wish for this life no longer." It was hardening and was soon ready to go into the furnace.

I patiently watch his sleep patterns as they shift. He was at one time fat and pleased with this solitary. Naturally he has felt himself falling into the abyss, his constitution has been falling with his mind. Ill, he has had his senses derailed and he expects nothing. Surely it is a passing illness he has claimed a thousand times over. How wrong he truly is.

I will put the nail in the coffin soon enough. As I record this now he is shifting, thrashing about like a mad man. The poison I have ingested into his mind is finally maturing and ready to blossom. Perhaps tonight I will give the command. You pathetic excuse, oh how your ancestors must be laughing in their afterlife. It is befitting that you will die alone on this wretched wasteland. Tonight feels as pure as any night to send him, so I shall.

"End this torment. Do it." It was so foreign in design, a thought so provocative it would be rejected at any first glance. Yet with the toiling and the slow dripping of poison it was clung to and held.

He rose and I followed him.

"So cold, it's so cold." He had stripped as I had instructed him to. Marching to the center hall, it was a mixture of blues both dark and translucent. To the pit in which we burn our fires, once a month, he descends. The prosthetic fluid we have rationed for so long has but enough for one last blaze.

"Douse yourself in it." Again such a vile construct that any strong willed man would defend against, he complied willingly. Pathetic.

Gazing up above, in the very top of the cavern there lied the hole forged by either nature or the previous inhabitants. For the first time since I'd landed on this plagued land, a glimpse of the flickering lights passing overhead. I must be free. A glance back down and I'd find him idly waiting, dripping in the fuel.

"Pick it up." This was an order in direct to the torch we used.

Without a delay the hand closed around the torch and held it close. I could see the dying flame sputtering in the reflection of his eyes. It was no doubt a symbol of his spirit, waning. Fragile and on it's last legs it was painful to even stare at such a weak display. Slowly I'd adorn my cloak and tighten the gauntlets I had forged. Savoring it as I went I was reminded of the thrill that this charade could induce; it had truly been so long. For in those black eyes of his I could see what remained for me on this planet: nothing.

"Burn."

As I turned heading for the exit I could smell the distinct burning of flesh. The screams were the next stimuli to reach, echoing like a divine chorus among the many flawed crystalline walls. There will be no trace left once I am gone, none that we were ever here. For we are already dead and I will be the sole progeny to ignite our path once more.

[Bile]

Humans are weak. To defile one's mind takes but a wave of the hand and some minor influence. Droids however are a much more difficult process all together. A droid is only as competent as the ranking human, unfortunately. Having been greeted by the security unit of droids at the front of the port, I merely passed a few lies of the tongue about my identity.

"I am Horadric Cube. I am a merchant from Coruscant and I have left my ship in this port. Can you identify which port it is docked at?" Of course the entire charade was falsified. It didn't matter though.

"One moment please, sir Cube." The droid mimed back, accompanied by my stifled chuckles.

This would eventually snowball into some type of problem. For now, I just have to get inside, that's what mattered. Then I heard a noise, most likely to signify that there was no Horadric Cube in the registry data. Surprising, really.

"It appears we do not have your name listed, sir Cube. Is there by chance another name you may have used?" Service droids were the worst of them all. A simple function, gatekeeping for example, had to be such an extensive pain in the ass.

"Ah... try my master's name. Deckard Cain." One more bit of false data entry and I will be closer to my ship, well the ship that I will commandeer.

"One moment please, sir Cube." Every time the droid said those words I wanted to crush it's head. That wouldn't get me a ship however.

With a repeat of the initial sound the droid tilted it's head, most likely a function the programmer had underwent to make people feel more comfortable.

"It appears your master Cain does not happen to have a--" I felt bad, in some way having to cut off the poor service droid. It hadn't noticed my hand slowly creeping towards it's prosthetic abdomen, that much was apparent. It hadn't noticed the shifting in my demeanor or the concentration that befell my face. I can certainly be assured that the last image it saw of my cloaked face was popping up on the security monitor though.

I may be prone to my temper when dealing with extended business. All I did was take a droid and turn it into a catalyst, that's all. Dim catwalks were littered with the struggling diodes that were lacing the edges. From this vantage point the closest vessels are within reach. I just have to cut through the next security checkpoint without harm.

On the other side of the sliding rust accumulation that these watchers called a door I found two pairs of eyes staring at me. The look on their face was distinct, drowning in fear. I love that look.

"You!" the first was the single of the pair to acknowledge me, verbally anyway. Drawing the blaster with a shaky grip his partner reacted the same, yet more hesitant.

"We saw the footage! You've gone far enough, you're going to have to hand over any weapons you have presently on you! We will also be reporting you to the proper authorities! Please, don't make me shoot." There were a few things I noticed about these two that intrinsically drove me beyond my rationale.

Shaking. He was shaking with profuse terror. Don't act high and mighty if you're not authentic. So I complied, naturally, slowly raising both of my hands up.

"Please do not misinterpret what you have scene. I'm sorry for acting how I had but I've been left with no choice. I am a jedi on-route to Coruscant and I desperately need off this rock. I have been trailing an ancient trail that I need to report back to the council on." My attire was close enough, foreign to this neanderthals that reside on a chunk of ice in the outer reaches, it should stand.

"How do we know you're not lying?! Jedis carry those blades, where are your's?" The inquisition was honorable, I can give him that.

Slowly I stuck my hands into the reaches of my cloak, one hand returned swiftly with just a splayed hand.

"Easy now, don't shoot me for following orders." I had to give them credit, this one may have put me on the spot.

It didn't though. With the right hand I slowly extended the black handle. The design was narrow, curves were rounded ever so slightly into the grip.

"See? I trust you're not going to ask me to draw it on you next, to show that it works. That would make this a lot harder to explain." I was hoping they wouldn't call my bluff.

"Hey", this is where I really wish I would've saved my time and killed them both upon entering, when the second chimed in. "I heard that if he's really a Jedi, it should be a color like Green, Blue or Orange. Just definitely not red."

A growing sore was forming in my mind; I imagine this experience to be the lightly downplaying of a tumor. With a press the light extended as was accustomed to this particular module.

"White? What does that mean? It looks weird too..." The first canted his head at the light in front of him.

About right here is when I adjusted my free hand towards the second. His esophagus most likely felt like it was on fire. Surely I could hear the struggling in his mouth, fleeting between the clenched teeth. Though I had to let go here, I really did. To hear the screams when the light had severed their arms holding their blasters. Putting them out of their misery was too kind.

So I borrowed (hijacked) the vessel that was precisely outside that checkpoint. With said vessel I proceeded right out of the port. I estimate that the message has been sent roughly five seconds ago and by the time they man pursuit vehicles, I shall be gone.

Yes, it was all a marvelous plan. Until I was confronted with the InterGalactic Banking Clan's fleet.

"Name, Identification and state your Business, vessel." Those were the words that rung through the shoddy speakers rigged in the can I stole.

.

So now I'm confronted with a truly gigantic dilemma, about the size of twenty ships. This was not a part of the plan.

[Bile]

In the dead of space I saw the most beautiful and yet terrifying sight unfold before my eyes. Countless buoys that littered the endless black ocean taunted me with their very presence. That which I had been seeking and searching for had never been so close yet so far away at the same time. I can remember the timbre of that voice even now echoing in my head. That terribly frustrating sound of someone speaking through a clothes pin on their nose; I wanted to kill him through the speakers.

"Name, Identification and state your Business, vessel. You are currently in InterGalactic Trade space and we will not hesitate to take the proper force to make that clear." If there was one thing that would have sent me over it would have been seeing the face to go along with that hellish tone.

My options were as followed: turn around and head back to the rock I had finally escaped, get by without trouble, or simply die. Two of those were unacceptable. I refused to turn my back on the thousands of possibilities stretched out before my very eyes. No, I would not admit death to steal the glory I had yet to achieve.

With those two options quickly disposed of there only remained one: I had to get past this colossus. I had to do what made sense, claim a false alias and a generic cover story. The ship didn't look to be identifiable from the outside and was a generic commercial vehicle. It would work, the chances of it failing were slim to none. Hundreds of ships traveled this space per week! Smugglers could do it, so could I.

"I am Ronan Dex. I am on a routine trade route carrying some of the crystals mined from Mygeeto. You should know me by now, I'm always passing through here. You guys have made me quite a pretty penny, maybe next time I'll let you keep a commission. It's the least I owe you." As I removed my finger from the communication key I felt the rush flow right over me. That was believable, right? So many names dropped, so many ships, it had to work.

"Well Ronan Dex, assuming that is your name, perhaps you might care to explain why you're piloting a prisoner transport ship?" I could hear it in his squealing pig voice. The fact that he had unearthed some lie, no matter how small whether it be my name or my motive. Instead of smply shrugging his shoulders, not running the id on the ship and slacking at his job; my future now weighed in the balance.

I had no idea how to cop myself out of this.

"There must be some mixup? I was specifically sanctioned this vehicle by the Clan. I was told they were out of the parts required for my typical transport so this would do." Just let me through you dead-end scum.

"If that's the case then feel free to turn around get yourself the proper vessel. They work for us down there; it'd be wise to keep that in your mindset." The sound of silence was but a welcoming one.

Was that all I had struggled for? All that I painstakingly calculated, all of those countless nights staring up at the black, empty sight of my future. That boiling rage deep within the core of my existence began to override.

No. No. No. No. No.

Full thrust. I would push the rusty piece of **** as fast as it could take me. I would get past this road block at all costs. I would NOT return to that stagnant waste! I would not go back to a life not worth living! I would see the day where I reclaimed what was rightfully mine! I would make my ancestors minuscule in my wake! I would become a myth beyond proportions; galaxies that had been flourishing for thousands of years would crumble before my magnitude! It could not end, not before I had even had the chance to start it.

It hadn't taken them long to realize what I was doing. The larger frigates of course lagged in the chase but the countless swarming roaches had made good time closing in. The first hit was minor, a few disposable services removed. The next three or four coasted on past, I could laugh at their aim. Then the next hit blew a hole in the helm. That was when everything changed.

Deafening. A thousand tides of crushing black ripped my body from the seat.

Spiraling. Black. Moments turned to decades which turned to millenia which thus spawned into eternities. This was it. These were surely my final moments.

Somewhere deep within the subconscious something rose to the surface. A foreign thought that had come up once, long long ago in that frigid hell. A holocron I had discovered alluded me for the longest time, or so I thought. I was incapable of activating it so I had thought it was useless. One day however it had elucidated my corner of that crystalline cell. An old figure of our past spoke to me. He told me of a massive end-game.

In these fleeting moments I felt the summoning I had begun. I felt my very cells dying before my eyes. I had not thought of it then, merely looking back can I make sense of it now. From a third point of view I watched my skull rupture as the pressure crushed all of my organs and bones. Yet as I looked down, those hands were not my own. Above me, a massive white Behemoth. It's gluttony knew no bounds. I watched as the fleet which had so zealously pursued me was torn asunder. It was violated and shown no mercy. The ice rock I could not speak to you of, for my ship and I were too shown no bias.

In the last moments I could recall I remember seeing gauntlets that were not my own. I remember the strange sensation of touching where my face should have been, only to feel nothing. I was sentient yes yet I had discarded my physical form. I had a form, it was mine, yet not with which I inherited in birth.

This was my rebirth. A form forged of my essence to carry my essence. It reflected my very being. Black, putrid green excess with not a face but a plague doctor's visage. Bone. Callous to the chill of space or the fallacy of emotions. In this new carriage my will continued. The will to power.

I know not how I summoned that great Prometheus which devoured me. I know not how I spared myself the instant-death I had been assured. I know not where I have come.

I know what I shall do. My hunger has grown insatiable. I will devour and feast upon those who stand before me, unwilling to bow. For those who had been the original, dark users, I will carry on in their stead. I shed my previous name in the light of these, newer shifts in my path. The name they will grow to fear, learn to avoid and never dare to cross; Bile.