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06.25.2012 , 04:32 PM | #127
76. In which Nalenne and Quinn consult with the Voss (II/III)

The Voss have a singular rule:
First the Mystic, the Force power’s tool,
Then interpreters wise
To suggest compromise
‘twixt commands that would stump sage and fool.

Nalenne and ghost-Quinn knelt on multicolored rugs, facing a trio of Voss: their appointed guide, flanked by a slim woman and a large, muscular (by Voss standards) man.

"In conclusion," Nalenne was saying, "I need to move this guy on out of his ghostly existence. And supposedly some vows of ours, likely the wedding vows spoken at one of your stone monuments here, is holding that back."

The three Voss watched, unblinking, for a long time.

"Any help here?" said Nalenne.

The guide spoke. "The two souls are bound as one. One cannot live if the other dies. One cannot die while the other lives."

"Stop. There. Unacceptable," said Nalenne. "Was this in the venue booking brochure?"

"This is the marriage bond," said the Voss flatly. "No matter the location."

"You people die all the time. How come I don't see ghost-Voss following their spouses around?"

"Blind strength of will," said the slim woman.

"Blind strength of purpose," said the muscular man.

"Blind Mystics’ strength," said their guide. "Voss understand their purpose. Our Mystics do not take these vows at the stone, for they know the power of their own words. You brought your chains, Sith, and you, human. Forged in ways that are not Voss, but bound in ways that are Voss."

"We're coming to an unbinding idea here. Right?"

Their guide stared at her, unblinking. "Die. Then you are free."

"Weeeee're coming to an alternate unbinding idea here. Right?"

"Live," said the woman. "Then you are free."

Nalenne expelled a short sharp breath. "How do I say this...."

"My lord, if the location truly had some reaction with our vows, that location would be the best place to start looking for a way to break it apart."

"There is nothing to break," said their guide. "You are one."

"Are you listening? We are obviously not one. I'm Sith. He's human. I'm female. He's male. I'm alive. He's dead. I'm pretty. He' Well."

"Broken," said their guide.

"Incomplete," said the big Voss.

"One and wounded," said the woman.

"Bound and blind," said the guide.

"You're wrong. Would there be any not-death solutions for your interpretation, which I am not conceding is true in any way?"

"Is there a way he might live?" the big Voss asked his fellows.

"This is beyond our power," said the woman.

"Is there anything you can do?" snapped Nalenne.

"Release you both in death," said their guide. "If that is your wish."

“You guys really do only come in ‘creepy’ and ‘creepier’ modes, don’t you? Quinn, have you had enough running in circles?”

"More than enough, my lord."

“Well, then. Tell you all what. You call me when you’ve figured out severing this or re-embodying somebody. And I’ll go not die, because that solution sucks.”

Nalenne rose, dusted off her knees, and stalked out of the pavilion.

Quinn kept pace with her. "Pretty vs. ‘hm, well’? You never complained about my appearance before," he muttered.

"Rhetorical license," she said. Then she looked over at him. "All the same, some days I think I would be happy if I never saw you again. No offense."
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