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Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

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Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Manually added by Augur Sanguinius Tsucyra Entar

Things had spiralled into true darkness after Zakath’s death, Nath had nothing left to anchor herself she felt the waves of loss keenly. The self inflicted hermit-ting only made things worse, she sat for days and nights meditating, trying to grasp at anything of him in the Force. It was beginning to seem helpless even to her own addled mind. Some dogged sense of need spurred her to continue, the lock of her door for now seemed to have been unhampered with; for that she was grateful.

Carefully her mind drifted on the ebb and flow of the Force, she was aware it beckoned her to a memory, one she had not considered in a few years. The Iridonian didn’t wish to go there, tears burned, threatening to spill but never quite managing the momentum to fall.

Please no.

She had fallen far from grace, begging, really?

You must.

…I cannot look there…

Before she knew it the Sith was assaulted by the scent of Naar Sheddha, the city was a metropolis for a Merc, one could easily find work and Nath at the time had made a living protecting, killing and generally being a heartless soul lost but just about keeping her head above water. The money was the only reason she took that specific contract, of course, it was too good to be true, the Twi’lek had told her something just shy of a Messiah sized falsehood. It wasn’t as though Nath was stupid, she had known at the time, but had managed to miscalculate quite spectacularly.

As her Employer made his way to the Port she had felt it before she saw it. Her instincts screamed danger, screamed so loud in fact that she had stopped walking and it was not until some five paces later the Male noticed. She’d be damned if she could recall his name though. The one thing that stuck with her was his scent, he smelt like prey; it made her bare her teeth and subconsciously make him flinch at any opportunity possible for sheer entertainment.

The animal inside her was not laughing now, it prickled in her mind and told her to run. With no small amount of force she ignored her instincts and to her own folly it had been. The crowds parted for him. In Nath’s experience that was never something that bode well, again the Iridonian’s instincts sensed him before she caught sight. The warmth of heat radiated off his scales, the scent of cleanliness and sheer alienness of him; everything screamed Barabel, predator and male. This slap in the face was what forced her to reassess her situation, normally it was seen as bad for business to drop a contract. And yet, he had lied to her, had spoken falsehoods as he placed credits in her palm knowing that she would never survive. At best Nath figured she was a nice distraction so the Twi’lek could attempt to flee.

Unfortunately for him, he had been completely oblivious to her soon to be Master and his stalking of them. Nath ensured she remained closer, and waited for him. She would not die for this pleb, and to have the mountain of scales and muscle to do it sat ill with her also. The soon to be Apprentice did not have long to wait, the mountain arrived as she had predicted.

The Twi’lek squeaked like some kind of pet animal, the sudden change denoted as she scented his acrid fear and it was all she could manage to not vomit by its pungent scent. The Barabel was quick enough to inform Nath of what she had suspected all along, that he had lied and was happy for Zakath to tear through her in the hopes of holding him up just long enough to flee.

The Iridonian recalled the red haze that had descended then, the rage, the palpable tension that she had been ignorant of knowing was the Force prodding her to act. Nothing was quite so liberating as the feeling of her knife as it shredded through skin, blood vessels and sinew. The choked sounds and the spray of life essence had been intoxicating to her like the best drugs and none of the downsides.

Zakath had been puzzled by this turn of events but not displeased, he had chased that Iridonian across half of the Port to catch her, the fact that she was smart enough to survive, clever enough to try and escape him it all pointed to the final conclusion that the Force had paired them in his eyes. Nath had not taken quite so kindly to it she had fought like a rabid animal once disarmed only to realise that her teeth and nails had very little damage potential against his scales. He had allowed her to continue until she stopped of her own accord, the tall Iridonian had wiry muscle but little else to her that could damage him in hand to hand combat.

They had eaten together, steak, it was nice meat too not that processed crap that was so common when you had very little money. Nath savoured it as though it was her last meal; at the time she was almost certain it was going to be. The meat had barely been cooked, crimson pooled on the dish and the metallic tang that danced along her tastebuds was like she had reached heaven. Whilst they ate Zakath had explained where he hailed from and whom he served, it had made the meal very bitter sweet for the Irdonian. She had realised that there was no way that she would be allowed her freedom now.

She had not been discouraged though, she still attempted to flee and yet again he had given chase which culminated in being assaulted violently to apprehend her. Nath had slept so well, no dreams, just the welcomed peaceful blackness as she was physically taken away to begin a life which though she had not chosen she would never regret.

“Open the door by force.” Kordath spoke gravely, he had worried how his previous Master had taken the news of Zakath’s passing. He had attempted many times to get in touch with her, something had niggled at the back of his mind that there was something very wrong but he could not place a finger on exactly what.

“Scans have detected detonators at the doorway.” Xenna spoke calmly, but she too had growing concerns over the welfare of the secretive Iridonian. It had been radio silence since before the news had even reached her. The fact that Kordath had turned up in person to find her just made the worry that wriggled in her belly worsen, would she be reprimanded for this?

“Cut through the wall instead then.” Kordath gave a slight sigh, he had known Nath wouldn’t make things easy for them but had not expected this.

It took hours to cut through the ancient stone, but no one seemed to be willing to give up just yet. When finally the dust from the rubble cleared there was a silence that seemed to hang in the air so thickly that one would not need a lightsaber to cleave it. The Ryn was the first through the hole, the room was pitch but from the light in the corridor he spied Nath sitting in her meditations. The curse that escaped his lips was perverse and yet did not do the scene justice. His eyes felt as though they lied to him, what sat before him was not his Master, the sallow cheeks giving her cheeks the look of a cadaver. Breathing so shallow her chest barely rose at all, she looked dead.

Xenna followed him through soon after standing next to the Ryn with a sense of sorrow that she was uncertain of, never had either of them witnessed a Force Sensitive waste away as this, and yet they could still feel her presence, it permeated the air; she yet lived. Kordath was the first to move, careful to not trigger his Master’s instincts he carefully picked her up and was slapped yet again across the face by how light she felt in his arms.

The scream that echoed in their ears was not one that was physical, it perferated through the Force, loud, and sorrow laced as the Iridonian was carried out towards the nearest medical facility.

“She comes back to HQ no arguments, make her fit for travel.” Kordath spoke harshly to the medical officer as though it was partially his fault. He did not really blame anyone, but the screaming he could not only hear but also feel made his nerves prickle uncomfortably. He knew Skar would feel it, he should probably get in touch with the Kaleesh soon and let him know what had happened.

Camaraderie Good Social Listening Doing Playing Summit Clan House Battleteam Being Laughing Working Close Warm Friendships

Is - is this thing on? It's working? Alright...Never recorded one of these things myself before...so uh...Shadow says I'm supposed to be "Recording my wisdom for future generations", whatever that means. At first I wasn't going to but....I thought of something you need to hear, whoever you are.
My nickname here is "The Hunter" because that's what I'm the best at doing. Other assassins have a simple job, kill the target without anyone seeing you, or leaving any evidence, which is simple...when they don't know you're coming.
Other times however, they expect you, and they try to hide, try to run. A hunter's job, in that case, is to find  the target. In an whole galaxy, there's a lot of places to hide. The trick to it though, isn't knowing where to look, it's thinking like you're prey.
People think I'm a good hunter because I'm Cathar, we're natural hunters, and that's true, but it's not what makes me the best hunter, and it's not even because I have the Force. It's because I've...ah blast it, Shadow said the other's won't see this thing anyway...
It's because  I've been hunted myself, and I'm not the only one in the Brotherhood either. A lot of us came hear to hide, to run, maybe you did too. Use that. Learn from it. It means you know how the Prey thinks, how the Prey will react, where it will run, when it will fight.
Now if you haven't, good for you. Now put this thing down, because you will never be a Hunter. Take the soft jobs, where you kill some fancy senator or mob boss in his pent house, or a thief in a cell.
Alright, I've said my part. Arron Saylos, signing out.