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Marr


Lunafox

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The Well of Undying http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=532619

The Foundation of All Desire http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=769205

Spy Vs. Spy http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=858581

Marr http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=879214

The Sanctuary of Regret http://www.swtor.com/community/showthread.php?t=930369

 

NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST OR LINK MY STORIES TO OTHER SITES. Thank you.

 

 

 

Star Wars: The Old Republic

 

Marr

 

~Prologue~

 

It is said, at the moment of death, our life echoes before us—each passing moment, a judgement condemning us to the void or elevating us beyond it. For those whose lessons are not yet complete, it is a battle we must win so that they will not suffer our failings.

 

During this battle, the ripples of our actions and how they affect those who traverse our life’s journey, weigh one side or the other of the supernal abacus tallying our worth.

 

I stand at the precipice, overlooking the gloaming where life meets death, with the Force at my side and whether it will be my ally or adversary remains to be seen. While we cannot refuse death, we can resolve how we meet it.

 

I once believed life to be the enemy and death our solace, but I see now…that is false. It is the proving ground of the Force.

 

This is the story of my life, my battle—and the sum of the wisdom I would impart to those I leave behind. I offer it freely in the hope of defending my Empire one last time.

 

This is my final legacy, take it for what you will.

 

 

A/N:

I guess I was feeling a bit inspired tonight and missing my favorite dark council member. All the usual disclaimers apply and as always my thanks to Star Wars and Bioware/EA for letting me play with their action figures in their sandbox. I'll be updating this sporadically until I finish Spy Vs Spy, then I'll try and get this on a more regular posting schedule. I do hope you'll enjoy it. :)

 

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Squee! There isn't much to say yet but knowing you and loving Marr, I'm excited! :D

 

Me too, I couldn't wait to post it. I was pretty inspired last night, wrote that and read it with his voice in my mind like a giddy twit lol. :D

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  • 1 month later...
  • 2 weeks later...

Star Wars: The Old Republic

Marr

 

~Chapter One~

 

We are time’s medium. In death, the omniscient sculptor reveals the final product of his careless art—a single thread of all that we were and all we’ve forgotten. Concealed within the Force, I am relegated to the part of spectator—a witness to my own birth…

 

 

I was born of a corpse. That fact alone was enough to breed frightened whispers among our slaves, but hardly surprising considering my father’s reputation. Idle gossip would harden into fact and fact would become history—rife with curses and prophecies and dark entities I would one day learn are all too real.

 

Cut from my mother’s body by a nervous healer, my first breath was tainted by discomfort and dread, and it was perhaps this moment that colored my expectations of what my life would become. Each breath, each heartbeat, was a battle to be won.

 

He held me to the light. I was no larger than a meiloorun fruit, marbled with thick blue veins and pasty flesh. Every curdled breath came faster than the last and the blinding heat from the light stung my callow eyes.

 

The healer snorted and his careless handling told me his judgment was complete. I was imperfect and weak—a blight on the Tacitus name. I squirmed in his hands, protesting his verdict with flailing fists the size of acorns.

 

How easily he might have squeezed me into a pulp, but something in the way the shadows moved and darkened the room made his eyes bulge. He cast me aside like a runted pup and made for the window.

 

He threw it open and a gust of frigid air came in. Pale and dithering he sat on the window’s ledge and after little debate, he grasped the vines surrounding the window and dropped from sight.

 

Something gauzy fluttered above me just out of reach. For a time, I believed it was my mother’s ghost watching over me but in truth, it was a curtain, nothing more.

 

Alone in the dimly lit room, I became aware of the feeble instrument pattering under my ribs. Somehow I knew if the clumsy uncertain rhythm stopped, I would die. Whether it was by will or instinct, the decision was made: I would not surrender without a fight.

 

Cold dry air churned in the room. The blood soaked nest of swaddling around me dried to a chilly crust. When I railed against it, a metallic stench filled my nose.

 

The impulse to close my eyes was strong but something warned me not to. If I closed my eyes, my heart would stop. If it stopped, so would I. Another warning urged me to cry out. I obeyed—wailing until the room’s perfect silence was shattered and my face smarted and turned red from the effort.

 

The door handle rattled. Voices called out for my mother and the healer. When neither answered, several sharp blows rammed the door until it flew open. The same whisper that warned against closing my eyes told me to be still and quiet now. The frail beating in my chest quickened and grew loud in my ears. I was sure it would give me away.

 

The servants—a man and a woman, rushed in. The door shuddered on its hinges and the two stood mouths agape.

 

Fear roiled around the woman, a tempest of emotion so vibrant it raised in me an appetite that rivaled the need for something to fill my belly—something to fuel the beating in my chest.

 

The houseman shut the windows. His breath was like smoke, dispersing as he moved. He rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers. He covered my mother’s body and turned back the edge of the blanket beneath her shoulders. If not for her ashen skin and sunken eyes, she might have been sleeping.

 

In restoring her dignity, the man endeared himself to me and I watched him with quiet interest. Instinct told me these were good people and I was not afraid.

 

The woman lifted me out of the soiled linens and stowed me inside her dress. The heat of her body warmed mine.

She smelled of sour milk and sweat. I curled against her in a ball and felt the tepid heat of her idle milk wet my body.

 

I fought the urge to close my eyes with renewed vigor. She spoke a kindly gibberish to me, but no sound was as comforting as the steady pounding of her heart.

 

She settled by my mother’s side and wept while she held me. The houseman raised a fire in the hearth. Setting aside her grief, she took the chain dangling over my mother’s forehead and slipped it into an envelope of clean cloth and stowed it inside her robes.

 

The man soothed the woman’s shoulders and her trembling eased. I listened to their hasty whispers and watched their blurred faces with wide eyes.

 

He caressed my back through the woman’s dress and then he spoke. His voice came in a low confident rumble and his vacillating accent told me, he was not born an Imperial but had acquired the accent over time. He struck me as a thoughtful man, even if he was of low birth.

 

“Lish…see how he looks at us…like he understands.” He stroked his short cropped beard and smiled.

 

“Poor thing…it would be better if he didn’t. I fear for him, Ailan. He’s come too soon—I doubt he’ll last the night. His little body is so cold.”

 

She arranged my body against hers and my mouth found the source of her milk. I drank in greedy slurps and for the moment, their voices faded in the bliss that came with nourishment.

 

“I didn’t want to believe it but perhaps it’s true. The house of Tacitus is cursed. As generous as they’ve been, we need to be careful. Maybe it was the darkness that took our son from us—” He glanced over his shoulder as if expecting the shadows to smother him against the wall.

 

“Hush Ailan, you’ll scare him. Our boy was born sick not cursed.” She swiped at her eyes and her chest heaved.

 

“Lish—I’m sorry…I didn’t mean—I…I was thoughtless.” He sighed. “Curse that damn healer. I hope he rots in every hell, abandoning the boy to die like that.”

 

“Our master will find him,” Lish began with barely restrained bitterness. “And when he does…the coward will die.”

 

“We need to inform Lord Tacitus.” He frowned and paced to and fro. “Do you think he’ll blame us?”

 

“No…I don’t think so…we found her…we carried her to bed, we called the healer…what more could we have done for her? It’s not our fault that fool is the only healer within five hundred kilometers.”

 

“Who knows what he’ll do in anger and grief…”

 

“He’s more reasonable than the other Sith I’ve seen. We’ll tell him together. He won’t hurt us if we’re holding his son.”

 

Ailan sighed. “I don’t understand. She didn’t seem sick…no more than you were...”

 

“The healer said something about her blood pressure…but I don’t know what that means. It doesn’t matter now. See if there’s clothing for the little one.”

 

After I’d drank my fill, she lifted me away and dressed me in the bantha wool coverings my mother had made. The clothes were too big—at least twice the size I was.

 

No sooner had she finished wrapping me in a new blanket, a blast shook the household. Trinkets skittered from my mother’s vanity to the floor.

 

Lish leapt to her feet and I protested the sudden motion and noise. “What’s happening? Are we under attack?” She quailed.

 

“I don’t know…”

 

Another blast, this one closer than the last, splintered the roof. Debris fluttered through the gap like falling leaves.

 

Ailan cast around for a weapon but found none. “We have to get out of here.”

 

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” she whispered while covering my head.

 

Screams rose through the ceiling like heat when the attackers breached the stronghold. Ailan crept out of the bedroom and Lish followed. I could hear the other slaves scattering like frightened hens, their cries cut short by the invading Sith. The stairs creaked under the weight of more men creeping upwards.

 

My rescuers grew pale and wild-eyed with fear.

 

Flashes of colour slid up the wall and caught my eye before I was plunged under the blanket again. Lish’s heartbeat thundered against my ear. “Don’t cry little one…for the sake of all that is good…don’t cry.” She gasped. “Ailan…Get down—they’ll see you.”

 

“Shhh. Come on.” Half-crouched, he towed us back to the bedroom. The cover on my face fell away and a blur of smoke and flame surrounded us. Ailan shut the door and pushed a wardrobe against it to slow them down. He threw his gaze around the room and paced as he considered what to do next.

 

“The window—there’s no other way.” He threw it open and peered down. Rage colored his face. Sprawled at the bottom, lay the body of the healer—his neck, arms, and legs bent oddly, tangles of vines still tight in his fists.

After seeing the healer’s fate Lish shook her head. “I can’t.”

 

“You can and you will…for me…and for him. The boy needs us…at least until we can find his father.”

 

“I can’t hold him and climb. I’ll drop him,” Lish whimpered.

 

“Give him here.”

 

Reluctantly she passed me over. He tucked me inside his vest and cinched his belt around me to hold me to him.

 

“Lish…listen to me. Hold onto the trellis, not the vines. They won’t hold our weight. And don’t look down. Go!”

 

The door shuddered as something large slammed against it.

 

“Hurry! Someone’s trying to get in.”

 

Lish swallowed hard and stepped back onto the trellis. No sooner had she started out, Ailan followed. The ramming against the door grew louder, but not loud enough to mask the angry shouts filtering through the door. A lightsaber growled and Ailan swore.

 

“Faster, Lish. They’re cutting through.”

 

The wooden trellis shook and swayed with every movement and Ailan muttered prayers, that it would hold them.

 

His chest was hot and slick with sweat and my body slipped, inching lower with every downward step he took. My foot dropped behind his belt and dangled over his groin. He swore under his breath.

 

Lish gasped when her feet touched the ground and a loud crash above us suggested the invaders had broken through the barricaded bedroom door. She stared at the dead healer, wide-eyed, slack-jawed and broken at her feet. Mesmerized by the expression death had left on his face, she froze.

 

“Lish…”

 

Ailan’s voice broke the spell and she gasped.

 

He snatched her hand and towed her close to hide among the bushes jutting from the stronghold.

 

My body jounced against Ailan’s chest. They ducked into an alcove and turned to face each other, my body sheltered between them. He held his breath and Lish’s hand and listened for the men above.

 

One of the men snickered. “That fool won’t be going far.”

 

“Course not, he’s dead, look at ‘im. Broke his damn neck trying to get away from us,” another added.

 

“Just as well. Lord Taxon wants us to sweep for stragglers then torch the place.”

 

Ailan glanced up toward the window and waited. “I think they’re gone. Stay close to the house, but watch the windows,” he warned.

 

A trio of fighters screeched overhead and released another volley of fire over the grounds and somewhere close by, the gnashing growl of lightsabers hummed. Staying to the shadows, we inched along the house.

 

“If we can make it past the wall…we can hide in the forest,” Ailan whispered. He pulled the blanket apart to peek down at me and smiled when I stared up at him. “That’s a good lad. Stay quiet…and we’ll be all right.”

 

“We can’t stay out all night in this cold,” Lish protested. “And if we make a fire, they’ll catch us.”

 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Ailan snapped. “I’m doing the best I can.”

 

“I’m sorry…I’m scared.”

 

“I know you are. I am too.” He scratched his head. “What I don’t get is why they’re attacking us…”

 

“I don’t know…Maybe our master angered someone important,” Lish murmured.

 

The growl of dueling lightsabers edged closer and I sensed panic swell in Ailan’s body. His breathing quickened. He folded one arm around me and peered around the corner of the stone stronghold. He ducked back and shut his eyes. “Dammit.”

 

“What?” Lish hissed.

 

“Lord Tacitus—he’s here—but fighting two others. He’s hurt…I don’t think he can’t hold out much longer.” He frowned and pushed me at Lish. “Take the boy.”

 

She collected me and cradled me close. “You’ll be killed. Don’t go.”

 

“If our master dies…we lose everything. Stay here. If I don’t come back, go to the forest.”

 

“You’re unarmed…they’ll kill you.”

 

“They’re Sith. Weapons won’t save me—I’ll hope our master manages that.”

 

“Don’t be a fool,” she hissed.

 

His kiss smothered the rebuke still on her lips and then he turned the corner before she could protest.

 

Lish spied on the men and held her breath. My father clutched his gut and fell to his knees, but before his challengers could finish him, he threw his hands out, electricity building between them.

 

A titanic outburst of blue lightning lit the grounds in a blinding radiance that rivalled the brightest day. The hiss of withering lightsabers followed in its wake. Steam lifted from the charred corpse that had been the Sith standing closest to my father.

 

Ailan tumbled past us and landed face down, five meters away. He pushed up slowly to catch his breath. Though unscathed by the lightning, he collapsed.

 

Lish cried out and ran to his side. Too late, she realized her mistake and threw her body over mine.

 

The surviving Sith leapt high, his purple lightsaber growling to life at the apex of his jump.

 

Lish screamed. Wedged between her and Ailan, I wailed under her weight. A scarlet flash sliced through the air above us. The weapon’s voice was low and deep—the hallmark of a powerful, ancient weapon and one that had glutted on Jedi and Sith alike.

 

Emerging from the darkness beyond the wall, the weapon struck its intended target with the elegant savagery of a tree viper and returned to the darkness from which it came.

 

The Sith’s feet touched the ground and his lightsaber receded into its hilt. Something dense and ovoid tumbled down the attacker’s back and rolled to a stop, face up next to Lish.

 

The headless body advanced three more steps before collapsing. Lish remained frozen in place, her mouth agape.

 

Ailan caught his breath and pushed himself off the frosty grass. “Lish…are you hurt…the baby?”

 

“No,” she croaked. Still holding me, she stood with his help.

 

“I had the wind knocked out of me.” His eyes widened as something else occurred to him. “Lord Tacitus!” He ran to my father’s side and fell on his knees.

 

“My lord…my lord…” Ailan gasped. His hands moved over the hole burned through his chest, and then to his side to help him sit up.

 

My father sputtered and coughed. Blood dribbled over his lower lip. “Show me my son…” he whispered.

 

Lish turned me to face him and I stared at the metal face.

 

“Help me…remove this.”

 

Ailan reached around him to unfasten the battle scored mask.

 

“Give it to him and my lightsaber…it’s all I have left…My wife…I felt her passing in the Force…”

 

“Yes my lord,” Ailan murmured.

 

Lish settled me into his arms and I reached for his face with clumsy hands. The amber in his eyes deepened into a darker hue—the blue of oceans, a trait I would inherit.

 

“He’s small…but I feel the fight in him…”

 

“What will you name him, my Lord?” Lish whispered.

 

“Ares…after my father. My son is Ares Tacitus,” he murmured. “He is the last of our line but no one must know his true name. No one. We have…powerful enemies who would kill him to steal his birthright. Teach him to seek Tulak Hord.” His last breaths came in rapid shallow bursts. “Go. Raise him as your own, but not here.”

 

A flash of pride sparked in his eyes before they dulled and cracked, his bloody spittle a long thread inching closer to my cheek.

 

The Force ebbed from his body, but for a moment it enveloped me—a fleeting embrace that defied words—or description, except to say that it was my father in his purest form, and for that brief moment I understood the man that he was, and the man I would become—a truth locked in my marrow for the rest of my days.

 

Death claimed the lines aging his face, leaving behind the husk of a younger man—an ode condemning our furious blood and all its passionate crimes.

 

It was at this moment I knew—death isn’t the enemy—death is our solace.

 

Lish lifted me from my father’s arms and kissed the top of my head. Ailan gathered my father’s mask and weapon.

 

“He deserves better…they both did. I wish we had time to bury them,” Lish whispered.

 

“They would understand. We have to go.”

 

The pair didn’t speak as they carried me into the forest and all that was mine, and all that was theirs burned behind us.

 

Over the years, I dreamt of that night many times, until the fragments formed into memory and truth, and yet one piece to the puzzle always eluded me…

 

It was not my father’s blade that stayed the attacker’s killing blow—the blade that came from the darkness and returned to it—wielded by what could only have been a ghost or a shadow.

 

It was a mystery I would never solve in life, only through death would I learn the answer.

 

Unnoticed by my adoptive parents as they trudged past the stronghold wall, a man stood in the darkness, well hidden among the trees. He watched over us as we traversed the forest, systematically clearing our path of vermin and beasts that would do us harm.

 

It was he, who dropped the satchel filled with credits and food, enough to sustain our escape.

 

I peered into the darkness, searching for the answer. Who was he? And then he stepped forward into the moonlight and I recognized him at once.

 

Scourge.

 

((to be continued…))

Edited by Lunafox
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Well written. Very captivating. I have a new thread to follow, while continuing my Agent story line. I can't chance reading Spy vs Spy before it's done. :)

 

Thank you for telling me! :) I hope you'll enjoy it, and when you're done with your agent, I hope you'll enjoy SvS too. ^^

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Another story to bookmark. Thanks for this Lunafox.

 

I write poetry myself. Short, sweet and to the point.

I can always get a beginning and an ending to stories I try to write, it is the middle stuff that I have trouble with. Maybe someday.

 

Anyway, so glad you share with us.

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Another story to bookmark. Thanks for this Lunafox.

 

I write poetry myself. Short, sweet and to the point.

I can always get a beginning and an ending to stories I try to write, it is the middle stuff that I have trouble with. Maybe someday.

 

Anyway, so glad you share with us.

 

You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it!

 

I love poetry, but can't write it to save my life lol.

 

The middle...yeah, that's always a challenge. But keep at it, that's the only way. ^^

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That took my breath away. Kinda dark but in the good sense though, compelling and a nice opening into Marr's life.

 

Great job Luna though what else is new? You really are a genius!

 

*blush* I'm glad it finally worked out, I think I pulled a few tufts of hair out with the 1st person omniscient lol. It's a bit weird for a pov. Thank you again for the nice compliments, it means a lot and it made my day! ^^ I'm glad the you're back around, cause like Ava I'm eagerly waiting for more of Defiant Devotion too. ^^

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Star Wars: The Old Republic

Marr

 

~Chapter Two~

 

It is during childhood we create our first masks—forged not of metal but of lies. We make them to impress, to frighten, and to protect, but most of all to hide our truest self—only then can we make others believe whatever we need them to believe.

 

 

The veil separating us thickened and Scourge was gone. In the fleeting moment that I saw him, I felt alive again. Through him, I saw my daughter once more—her eyes and her boldness—her passion and her defiance. His vision of her fuelled his spirit and drove his actions for the centuries to come—no—those centuries had already passed, I reminded myself. In life, I was seldom plagued by confusion, but here, in this place, I’m loath to admit it occurs all too often.

 

Time exists differently within the Force…it moves with a tidal fluidity in which I am the only constant. To explain in simpler terms—the past is the shore—solid and unyielding and easiest to navigate; the present is my awareness of this moment—ephemeral as sunlight splitting the clouds, and the future is as the undulating sea—ever-changing and always in motion.

 

I would not fade quietly into the solace I found so alluring in life—it was my nature to do battle then and I had no intention of resigning myself to death or the will of the Force now.

 

But to fight, I needed to learn to navigate the Force from within. I was not a prisoner, but I lacked the skill to move across time and space at will—a skill I had yet to master, as so many others had before me. I learned quickly that becoming a Force ghost was no small task. I longed to see my daughter again, and I would need to find a way.

 

Existence within the Force demanded that I abandon the conventions I’d grown accustomed to in life. I was an acolyte again, struggling to reconcile my current reality with all I’d learned before. I’d grown comfortable in my role as an immovable force, and now I was expected to become mutable.

 

When I attempted to move beyond the present and its confines, I grew disoriented, but I wouldn’t be deterred. If I could not move forward, I would move back. I chose to relive my last moment with her.

 

United, we stood before him—Tenebrae, Vitiate, Valkorion—these names didn’t matter, they only differentiated between his chosen vessels. He was one; he was all—destroyer, creator, ruler. The only name that mattered was the one the Force imparted to me at the moment of my death: Izax, the Ultimate Devourer.

 

Liatrix had defied Valkorion as I had but she was not here, nor was she among the living.

 

Troubled by this realization, I sought Scourge through the Force. Knowing the Force would prevent me from moving beyond the present, I forged my connection to him in the past.

 

The tether binding him to life remained inviolable, but his mind churned with memories and visions—there were no glimpses into the present or thoughts of the future—a state I knew was common among those who lay in a coma.

 

Scourge’s mind lingered on a vision he’d experienced years ago on Coruscant. The vision, though vague at first, suggested a sinister future, but every moment he dedicated to refining that vision, yielded more clarity until there was no doubt of what it could mean: Liatrix was the marked as the next chosen vessel of Izax.

 

~Walk the path of Vitiate~

 

In the vision, he saw her standing amid dark clouds, and when they thinned, a city came into view—a city I recognized as Zakuul’s capitol. Bound by inky bands of flawless hatred, she drained all life within her reach. I sensed she was not alone in this half-life. There was another with her—goading her…twisting her mind.

 

From the darkness, a man extended his hand in invitation. I sensed his power over her—a dark charisma and eloquence which concerned me. Valkorion—the previous vessel. The demon, Izax, spoke through him.

 

“Walk with me,” he said. “There is greatness in you. All that is mine…could be yours. I will share it with you.”

 

Before she could respond, the vision ended. Wrenched from the connection I shared with Scourge, I found myself returned to the Force tide. I sensed the less than subtle demand that I submit to its will and I refused. Something in me railed against it, just as it had the night of my birth. I would not surrender…to do so would mean the end of all things—and so began my campaign against the Force, and with it a new goal—to warn my daughter of the doom that had marked her as its own.

 

I laughed at the sheer madness of it—the neophyte ghost of a mortal man engaging in a battle of wills against an omnipotent and all-knowing power.

 

For a time, I sensed it ignoring me as if doing so would provoke me to pursue it and beg for its acknowledgment. I refused to lower myself. The Force would receive no such satisfaction from me. I folded my arms and with a single-minded determination, I stood unyielding in its wake.

 

The war between us raged, rife with silence and tenacity on both sides…for how long…I do not know. I indulged in the belief that I was winning and then, without warning I was ripped from the darkness and plunged into the past once more. I recognized the day as one from my childhood. I struggled to remember what set this day apart from the others and then, I remembered.

 

Eight years had passed since our escape from Ziost. I’d forgotten my home world and my birth parents alike. I was the son of Lish and Ailan Marr. We lived on Krayiss Two. My father worked as a labourer for the Imperial Reclamation Service and my mother worked at home sewing and mending for the workmen.

 

Our home was little more than a tent. We lived like nomads, moving from dig site to dig site and the latest held special interest for my father. The tip of a colossal obelisk had been uncovered and he was certain it would yield the answers he was looking for. There was talk of a library, centuries old and filled with ghosts. The legends excited him.

 

Sometimes I overheard my parents discussing a promise he’d made, and that working for the Reclamation Service was the best chance at keeping that promise.

 

I sat on my cot and watched the tent walls breathe in and out. The antiseptic my mother had applied to my cuts still smarted and a thriving crop of new bruises covered the old ones.

 

The tip of my tongue nudged one of my lower teeth and I tasted blood. A dark shadow hovered above my cheek, making it difficult to shut my left eye.

 

My father dropped his tools by the entrance and I imagined the exchange of knowing looks between them and the helplessness that followed. I canted my head to listen.

 

“It happened again?”

 

“It’s been happening every day for almost a year, Ailan. Something has to be done before they kill him. Today, they hit him in the head with a rock. He crawled home. He had blood in his eyes and mouth. He wouldn’t fight back, so they called him nothing.”

 

“Maker help us…”

 

“He’s not going back to that school tomorrow. If you don’t do something…I swear I’ll go there myself and tell that foreman what his precious son and his friends are doing. They’re savages.”

 

“They’re Sith…but…I’ll talk to him.”

 

“Talking isn’t enough. I won’t put our boy through this another day.”

 

“Lish, we don’t have the money to leave, and we won’t get another chance like this again. I have to find out who this…Tulak Hord is. Do you want to go back to what we were?”

 

“I’d rather be a slave and know my boy is safe…”

 

“I’ll think of something.”

 

“That’s not good enough!” She huffed and stalked out of the tent.

 

“Lish…wait! Where are you going?”

 

She didn’t answer and the tent was silent for a long time before my father came in and sat beside me. “I suppose you heard what your mother said.”

 

I nodded, but couldn’t find words to say to him.

 

“Why don’t you ever defend yourself? Hit them back? I showed you how.”

 

“Because…” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “Because you need the job.”

 

Tears filled his eyes and he pulled me close. “My boy.” He rocked me against him. “My precious boy. Your mother is right. We’re leaving.”

 

“But I want to help you find him.”

 

“Find who?”

 

“Tulak…Hord. You always say that a man is worth only as much as his word—you promised somebody…and if it’s important to you, I want to help.”

 

He blinked rapidly and looked away, feigning fatigue to hide his tears, but he couldn’t keep them from me.

 

“It was the dying wish of a very important man. He was always good to us.” He sighed deeply. “There is something…I want to show you.”

 

He left my room and returned with a box.

 

“These things…belonged to that man and he wanted you to have them when you’re old enough.” He opened it with a fearful reverence and turned it towards me so that I could better see its contents.

 

“This was his mask…he never went to battle without it and he fought in many battles—won most of them too.”

 

I traced the scoring with my fingertips. There was a familiarity to it I couldn’t account for.

 

“He was…a Sith lord?”

 

“Yes. Fearsome, powerful…but just. He served to protect his people…and the Empire.”

 

“Was that his lightsaber?”

 

“Yes…”

 

“Can I hold it?”

 

He glanced around nervously. “All right—but don’t tell your mother.” He balanced the weapon across his palm.

“That end…points away from you. That button there…I think that’s what activates it. But don’t press it. The blade will come out and if you’re close to someone, you could hurt them.”

 

He set the hilt into my hands. The metal was cold enough that my flesh stuck to it briefly even though it was warm inside. It weighed less than I imagined and the pommel was a sharp fang tooth from some predator. It came with a wrist holster and my face hurt when I grinned.

 

“Can I try it? Please? I’ll be careful.”

 

“Not in here. Come.” He led me out of the tent to a clearing behind a dense thicket of saplings. He cast a nervous glance toward the camp and then back at me.

 

“Can I do it now, Father?”

 

“I’ll stand behind you. Remember it’ll slice or burn through anything. And once that happens, there’s no fixing it. Don’t cut anything off. Your mother will kill me.”

 

We laughed and I beamed up at him.

 

“Well go on then…light it up,” he said.

 

My stomach felt like it was full of flewts, their wings vibrating in a nervous pitch that matched my excitement. Crops of goose pimples sprang up my arms and I pressed my thumb to the button.

 

A thick blade of growling red light extended from the hilt. Words defied me and I said the only thing I could articulate then. “Whoah…”

 

I swished the blade left and right. Bright red streaks marked where it had been last like firefly trails. My heart thundered, and in that moment, I felt as fully alive as I ever had been. My palm tingled against the hilt and it smelled like the air after a thunderstorm.

 

Few occasions in my life would rival this one. There was a joy that came in holding the lightsaber—better than the rush of a speeder in the open country and better than my favorite food.

 

Everything that seemed impossible only a few hours ago was made possible. The galaxy was alive with opportunity and there was nothing I couldn’t do if I set my sights upon it.

 

Best of all, I was no longer nothing. I was holding a lightsaber. My lightsaber.

 

And then something occurred to me and I extinguished the blade.

 

“Ares…what’s the matter?”

 

“Why would a Sith lord want me to have his things?”

 

He bowed his head. “I always knew this day would come…I’ve been dreading it…but I suppose you’re old enough now to know the truth.”

 

I stared at him and didn’t move.

 

“That Sith lord…was your real father.”

 

“No—you are. You’re my father.”

 

“You’re my son in all the ways that matter, but I want you to listen to me, it’s important you know the truth, but equally important that you never tell anyone else. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Father…but why?”

 

He spent the next half hour telling me all that I’d forgotten and all I needed to know. My birth father had enemies, but in being ignorant of who they were, we were not to trust anyone but each other. I would always be Ares Marr…never Ares Tacitus. There was a weight that came with the truth, and I knew it would take a long time before I fully accepted it.

 

“Are you all right, Ares?”

 

“Yes, father.”

 

“Good. Never forget—you were everything to your birth parents and you’re everything to us too. We love you and we always will.”

 

“I love you and mother too.”

 

“We’ll find this Tulak Hord…and he’ll help you…far more than we ever could.”

 

“Father?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Even if we don’t find him, it won’t change anything. You’re my parents.”

 

“A part of me was afraid…once you knew the truth you wouldn’t want us.”

 

“Don’t be afraid, Father.”

 

“I’ll do my best, but I’m not a Sith.”

 

“You don’t have to be Sith to be brave.”

 

He squeezed my shoulder and swiped the tears from his eyes. “We’d better go back…I’m worried about your mother.”

 

The walk back to the tent seemed longer than leaving it. The second moon broke the horizon and was close enough that we could see its fissures and craters with the naked eye. The first moon rose hours ago but was dappled with dark clouds.

 

The tall grass was wet with evening dew and dampened our boots. When we arrived at the tent, I stowed my new things under my cot and my mother having returned, served our supper.

 

She pushed a parcel of premium kolto at me. “Drink this before bed…understand?”

 

I stared at the package. She may as well have pushed a solid aurodium bar at me. “Where did you get that?” I whispered.

 

“The foreman gave it to me—to heal you…along with his apologies. His son and his friends won’t bother you anymore.”

 

My father paled. “You confronted Lord Corsin about this?”

 

Something had to be done.”

 

“Ares…take your medicine and what’s left of your supper with you and go to your room.”

 

“Why? I can still hear you in there.”

 

“Ares, do as you’re told. I wish to speak to your mother alone.”

 

“Yes, father.” I slunk to the rear corner of the tent. I picked at my food and listened to them argue.

 

“Lish…do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

 

“Yes. I solved the problem. It’s gone on long enough. Too long. I asked you and asked you and you did nothing.”

 

“Because it would only make things worse, that’s why.”

 

“How?”

 

“You made us look weak. Sith don’t respect weakness. The boys won’t respect him…not after you ran in to fight his battles for him.”

 

“I did no such thing. If anyone made us look weak it’s you. A man protects his family.”

 

“If you were a man, you’d be dead now.”

 

“I don’t believe that. Lord Corsin was very gracious to me.”

 

“Dammit Lish! How can you be so naïve?” I heard him pace the plank wood floor. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

 

The wall dividing the tent shivered when he passed by and after he doused the lamp, I could hear sobbing.

 

I crept out of my room and peered around the corner, my empty plate like a shield against my chest. Mother had buried her face in her arms, but when the floor creaked she looked up at me, and like Father, she pretended that nothing was wrong.

 

“Did you have enough to eat?” She forced a smile.

 

“Yes…”

 

“Was it good? I hope it was good.”

 

“I ate it all. See?” I held up my plate.

 

Her lower lip quivered.

 

“Ma…are you all right?”

 

She sobbed as she spoke. “I only wanted to protect you…I couldn’t stand it…what they were doing to you.”

 

“I’ll be all right now. Don’t cry.” I sat next to her and put my head against her shoulder. “You don’t like it here, do you?”

 

“Ares, it’s not about what I like…”

 

“If we sold that kolto…could we go somewhere else?”

 

“No…It’s for you. I want you to use it to get well.”

 

“But if you could go anywhere in the galaxy…where would you go?”

 

She smiled through her tears. “I don’t know. Somewhere warm and sunny. But it doesn’t matter, we can’t leave. Your father won’t…”

 

“I know. He promised Lord Tacitus…I said I’d help him.”

 

“How do you know about him?”

 

“Father told me. He told me everything.”

 

“I thought it better to wait until you’re older…”

 

“No. I’m grown enough now.”

 

“You’re eight…” She pulled me close and held me. “To me, you will always be eight. And you are up past your bedtime.” She took my hand and walked me to my room. “Drink your medicine.”

 

She waited until I finished it, and settled me onto my cot and kissed my forehead. “Now sleep.”

 

The next morning, I woke feeling as if I’d slept for a year. I held out my arms—every cut, every bruise gone—even the newest ones had healed. My scars had faded and the loose tooth had re-rooted and stood solidly with the others. The black bruise under my eye had vanished too. Over the course of one night, the kolto had restored me.

 

I washed and started to dress. I hadn’t finished hooking the toggles on my tunic when I heard Mother cry out. I dove under my bed and seized my lightsaber. I strapped it to my right wrist and crept out of my room.

 

 

((to be continued…))

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I have been waiting for this Luna. Such imagery and it is wonderful to glimpse into the past of Marr, one of my favorites. The weaving back and forth between the ghost realm of the present and his past life is genius. Looking forward to more as I always do with your stories.

 

Beautiful.

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I have been waiting for this Luna. Such imagery and it is wonderful to glimpse into the past of Marr, one of my favorites. The weaving back and forth between the ghost realm of the present and his past life is genius. Looking forward to more as I always do with your stories.

 

Beautiful.

 

Well thank you so much. ^^ It's truly a labour of love for me, Darth Marr has always been my favorite, and this is something I've been wanting to do for a long time. I hope I can live up to what I'd like this to be. ^^

 

 

Very nice read. You have me captivated by each story post. It sure is a trial waiting for the next one I tell you. Keep up the fantastic work.

 

Thanks! I appreciate the kind comments, and I'll do my very best to keep on! ^^

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I had already read this on a fan fiction site. LOVE IT! I am a big fan. Thanks to you, I've stayed up much too late reading on more than one occasion.

 

Thanks so much for letting me know! I appreciate the kind feedback, it means a lot. I'm happy to know I'm responsible for any sleep delinquency lol. :D

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I'm following this on another fanfic site but finding it here is awesome!

 

You deserve all the exposure you can get, your writing skills are excellent and you give Marr justice, bringing him back to life, so to speak!

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I'm following this on another fanfic site but finding it here is awesome!

 

You deserve all the exposure you can get, your writing skills are excellent and you give Marr justice, bringing him back to life, so to speak!

 

I remember seeing you at AO3 :D Thank you again so much for your kindness! I hope I can do the man's life justice, he's always been a favorite, and I'm not ready to let him go, no matter what the game says. :o

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Star Wars: The Old Republic

Marr

 

~Chapter Three~

 

What is regret…but the kind word left unspoken, the chance not taken, or the harsh lesson learned? It is all of these things, but most of all, it is the choice that hurts those who love us.

 

 

I peered around the edge of the tarpaulin divider, my mother’s scream still sharp in my ears.

 

The alien stood at least a half meter taller than most men, a natural mail of rust coloured scales covering its body. Sharp talons tipped its hands and feet, and as if its natural defenses weren’t enough, it wore heavily scored plate over its torso and legs. The ill-fitting armour bore half faded markings I didn’t recognize, and I suspected the creature had claimed it as a macabre trophy from one of its victims.

 

It snarled at my mother in a guttural grinding language, and while I couldn’t understand it, there was no mistaking the meaning behind the heavy blaster jammed up against her cheek.

 

Yellow needle-thin teeth flashed under crusty lips as it repeated its demands.

 

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know any Darth Taxon,” Mother whimpered. “We were never on Ziost. I swear.”

 

The creature sensed her deceit and cocked its pistol.

 

I crept from behind the wall and inched closer. My mother’s eyes grew wide. I knew she’d seen me and feared giving me away.

 

My heart skipped in a wild rhythm and my right hand opened and closed in anticipation of drawing my weapon. I craved the weight and feel of the lightsaber in my hand but held off. I couldn’t show my advantage too soon.

Somehow I had to lure the alien away from her.

 

It smelled liked a greasy bantha hide and I realized at that moment, that I stood too close. My mother realized it too. I held my breath and backed away.

 

The alien’s nostrils twitched as it registered my presence.

 

My mother slammed her heel down hard, stomping one of the being’s scaly toes. It snarled what I guessed was a curse. It didn’t suffer for long, but the distraction was enough. Taking advantage, she jostled free.

 

The alien whirled on me. What happened next, happened so quickly I often questioned my memory of it.

 

The beast charged. I fell backwards and drew the hilt of my lightsaber before the full crushing weight of the alien landed on top of me. I gasped, unable to breathe. My thumb twitched. The lightsaber extended and liquid heat leaked over my hand and up my arm before the wound cauterized. The alien’s eyes grew wide and a thread of spittle spilled over its lip.

 

Our eyes met and a gurgling hiss escaped it as the glossy green eyes cracked and dimmed. I retracted my blade and pushed at the fresh corpse pinning me to the floor. My teeth clenched from the effort and I panted. My mother tugged at its arm until the body shifted just enough that I could scramble free.

 

Green blood oozed from underneath it. I expected more, given its bulk.

 

I stood frozen, my feet rooted to the floor. Unable to breathe or move or speak, I stared at the corpse at my feet. Its tongue lolled from the side of its mouth and the stench of its innards made my eyes water. I had never killed anything before.

 

My mother knelt before me. She caressed my face and her fingers raked my hair. Satisfied I wasn’t hurt, she embraced me.

 

“Ares, you could’ve been killed.” She chided me between sobs and kissed the top of my head no less than a dozen times. I rested my chin on her shoulder and closed my eyes.

 

“Are you all right? Ares? Say something…”

 

“I…can’t…breathe.”

 

“I’m sorry.” She relaxed her embrace and gripped my shoulders instead. “I couldn’t stand it if I lost you. Are you sure you’re all right?”

 

I nodded, though with more uncertainty than I hoped to let on. “What was that thing? It was going to kill you. I felt it.”

 

“It was a bounty hunter.”

 

“Do they all look like that?”

 

“No…this was a Trandoshan.”

 

All at once the gravity of what I’d done struck me. “I killed it. What if the foreman finds out? Father will lose his job…It came looking for us, didn’t it? How did it find us? We’re going to have to leave now, aren’t we?”

 

“Ares, hush. Let me think. I need to think.” Her hands shook. “We need to get rid of the body before someone sees it.”

 

“Where are we going to put it?”

 

“I don’t know.” She crouched to lift the Trandoshan by its armpit.

 

I seized the other arm, but even together we couldn’t move it more than a few inches. I cringed at the sticky residue clinging to my hands. We heaved again in unison, but the corpse barely moved.

 

“He’s too heavy…” She panted, giving up. “I can’t.”

 

“We could wait for Father to come home…”

 

“No…we can’t risk it. Someone might see. This is the last thing I want to do to your father…”

 

“We have to tell him…”

 

She lowered her gaze and sighed. “I know. I was afraid of this. Somehow Darth Taxon figured out that you’re still alive. Took him long enough, but still…” Her cheeks flushed and then her tears started anew.

 

My mother faded from my awareness until there was nothing. It was as if something had taken a hold of me and whispered in my ear. An idea began to germinate—an idea that was wholly mine yet utterly foreign at the same time.

 

The sensation left as suddenly as it had arrived, but the idea remained and solidified, and I was left wondering if this was how the Force communicated.

 

“Father said…the lightsaber would cut through anything…” The words came mindlessly with a resigned vacancy in my voice. With a flick of my wrist, the hilt re-appeared in my hand.

 

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. She stared at me for what seemed like a long time. “Y-you’re not suggesting…cutting…” Her hand flew over her mouth and her cheeks faded from a hot red to an ashen green.

 

I nodded quickly.

 

“Maker help us…” She whispered. Her face grew a terrible shade of white and I thought she might faint.

 

“I can do it, Ma. You don’t have to watch.”

 

She shook her head. “No…I need to sit…just for a minute. I won’t have you do this by yourself.”

 

For the next hour, the sizzling growl of my lightsaber was the only sound between us. When the grisly chore was finished we wrapped each chunk in plastite and hauled the pieces past the clearing where I’d first held my lightsaber the night before. After scattering the pieces as far away as we could manage, we returned to the tent, hoping that predators would eliminate the rest.

 

While scrubbing away the Trandoshan’s sticky green blood the tent flaps shifted and a tall shadow crept over the floor.

 

“Lish…”

 

My mother swore and whipped off her stained apron. She rolled it into a wad and thrust it at me to dispose of.

 

“Lord Corsin…this is a surprise.”

 

The foreman strode closer to her. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything…I came to—”

 

I stared at the tall red Sith and realizing my mouth was agape, I shut it. After disposing of our soiled clothes, I pulled on a clean tunic and stood by the wall, watching.

 

His vivid yellow eyes fixed on me. “I came to see how the boy was doing.” Something in his eyes registered surprise and I suspected he hadn’t really come to check on me.

 

My mother straightened and finger combed her hair to neaten it. “What an unexpected honour this is…how kind of you, Lord Corsin.” She bowed slightly and an uncertain smile flickered across her face.

 

She extended her hand to me, urging me closer. I crept forward and stood next to her, if not slightly behind her. “As you can see, Ares is doing very well. I can’t thank you enough for your generous gift, my Lord.”

 

He waved her off. “Think nothing of it. Had I been aware of the situation sooner, I would have put a stop to it. Boys will be boys,” he said with a pronounced sigh. “Come closer Ares. No need to be timid around me.”

 

I hesitated and my mother urged me on. “Go on…it’s all right.”

 

“Let me take a look at you.”

 

Lord Corsin seemed more of a diplomat than a foreman in the way he moved and spoke. His opulent robes appeared out of place in the dusty wilderness.

 

I stood before him, and he knelt to look me in the eyes.

 

“I sense the Force in you…so much raw power…and yet you restrain it…like it’s something to hide or be ashamed of. Pity. If you’re to become Sith, this timid streak must be broken."

 

He gave me a hearty poke in the shoulder and winced at the stringy thin mass he felt. “Not to mention we need to get some meat on your bones. I’ll see to ordering extra meat for the boy…to bulk up.”

 

“Thank you my lord, but he’s not timid…only wary…and that’s a good quality for anyone to have, especially the Sith.”

 

“I suppose you’re right.” He chuckled, the sound almost warm. “Tell me, Ares, why didn’t you defend yourself against the boys?”

 

His gaze didn’t waver and I looked down.

 

He clasped my chin and turned my face up. “Come now…tell me the truth. Did you fear them? Or did you fear punishment?”

 

“Neither, my Lord.”

 

“Then tell me why? And don’t mumble. Speak up and look me in the eye. Only slaves lower their eyes. You’re no slave. Now tell me.”

 

“I didn’t want to make trouble for my father. He values his work and we depend on him.”

 

Corsin shrank back. “How noble—a quality many Sith lack these days. Only the old families remember the importance of honour and nobility. No need to fear for your father. He’s my most dedicated workman.”

 

He straightened and clasped his hands behind his back. “The boys won’t bother you again, but should they need reminding…stand up for yourself. Understand, Ares?”

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

“One more thing…would you like to learn to be a proper Sith?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Good. Now, why don’t you run along? I need to speak with your mother.”

 

I glanced back at her.

 

She caressed my cheek and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Go outside and play. I’ll call when supper is ready…and be careful.”

 

The nervous flutter in her voice worried me. My eyes wandered to where the bounty hunter’s corpse had been. A smudge of green stained the ground sheet.

 

Corsin set his hand over my shoulder. “Protective of your mother, I see. No need. She’ll be quite safe in my company.”

 

Reluctantly, I ducked out of the tent and frowned. The sun was still high in the sky and a rare cool breeze wafted around me. Any other day I wouldn’t have hesitated to find adventure in the forest behind our encampment. Any other day.

 

I shuffled to the rear of the tent and crawled under the side wall and into my room. Still tired from disposing of the alien, I flopped onto my cot. The roof heaved up and down in time with the wind and I yawned. I closed my eyes but re-opened them when Lord Corsin spoke.

 

“The Force is strong in him, Lish. He could have a bright future with the proper teachers.”

 

“But the school here…”

 

“…Is not fit for the Sith,” he interrupted. “It serves to keep the younglings occupied and out from underfoot, nothing more. Why do you think the boys fight? There’s nothing else that speaks to their blood or their heritage. They need more. You want the best for Ares, no?”

 

“I do…but…Lord Corsin…meaning no disrespect, we can’t afford anything more. I wish I could do better for him, but we have no other prospects. All we have is Ailan’s wages.”

 

The melancholy in her voice made my heart lurch. My eyes grew bleary. She had always said she wanted to give me the world and I knew she’d meant it.

 

“That could all change, my dear…”

 

“Lord Corsin…I’m marri—”

 

“When we’re alone, you can call me, Fior.”

 

“Yes, my—Fior.”

 

“Much better. I sense your unhappiness. I well understand how lonely this life can be. Let me help you.”

 

“How would I ever repay your kindness? I have nothing to offer...”

 

“Now, that’s not true.”

 

I heard the clink of cups and the slow shrill whistle of the kettle. The sweet floral scent of Kopi tea wafted through the tent and my stomach rumbled.

 

“Maybe I could work for you…surely you could use a maid or a cook? What do you take in your tea, Fior?”

 

“Nothing, I prefer it clear. Lish—I have slaves to that for me. Cooking and cleaning are no life, for a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

 

My mother giggled. Never had I heard her laugh like this and for reasons I failed to understand at the time, a plethora of emotions surfaced in me, leaving me both ashamed and confused.

 

“You flatter me…but it’s the only life I’ve ever known.”

 

“Truly? I wouldn’t have guessed…You’re a mystery, Lish. One I wish to unravel.”

 

His voice took on a suave wolfish tone and I frowned. Mother laughed again and while it was a welcome sound, my fists tightened.

 

“No…no mystery…just an ordinary woman.”

 

“There is nothing ordinary about you…let me help.”

 

I heard the sound of chairs pushing away from the table and a few shuffling steps and clinking cups.

 

“Ares should go to a proper school…he’s of age now. All the best instructors—I have connections on Dromund Kaas. Think of all he could become.”

 

“I need to think about it…”

 

“Then…while you’re thinking…think about this too.”

 

There was a long silence—too long. I sat up. Then I stood, fists clenched and mouth tight. I wanted nothing more than to storm in but thought better of it. Perhaps Corsin was right…I was too timid. The notion that I lacked nerve, served to stoke my anger. I folded my arms and seethed.

 

“That is something to think about…Fior.”

 

Her voice carried an excited breathiness, I’d only ever heard when she spoke to Father late at night—a sound I hadn’t heard in a long time.

 

“I want you, Lish, here…now. Whatever it takes…give yourself to me…”

 

“No—not like this. Not here. There are things I need to do first...to prepare.”

 

Another long silence passed between them and Mother spoke again. “You’re making it difficult for me…”

 

Corsin chuckled. “That’s my hope. I’ll return tomorrow…be ready for me. I expect things will change for the better very soon—for all of us.”

 

“I hope so…”

 

Another long silence passed, followed by whispered words I couldn’t make out.

 

“Thank you again for the tea, Lish. I’ll be thinking of you.”

 

The cool draft meandering through the tent told me he’d left. I was too tired to be angry for long. I shut my eyes and thought of the dead alien and before the next thought could materialize I was asleep.

 

Hours later, I woke to the sound of my father’s happy whistling. The smell of herbed meat filled the tent and my stomach rumbled again.

 

“Lish! Where are you…I have the best news.”

 

I heard the cook pots clatter. “You’re late…what happened?”

 

“I know, but we reached the library today—buried ninety meters down. You should have seen it…rows and rows of books and datacrons, all perfectly preserved. If only Ares could see this.”

 

“That’s wonderful.”

 

“But that’s not all…after we came back to the surface, the foreman called me aside. I thought he was going to say something about…last night. But he didn’t.”

 

“What did he want then?”

 

“I’ve been promoted to Site Manager. It’ll mean more hours, but he tripled my salary and gave me something he called benefits.”

 

“Benefits? I don’t understand…”

 

“It means the Empire will see to all our needs—more portions...medical costs…everything. And you know what else? Schooling for the boy. They’ll pay his way in full. He’s to go to Dromund Kaas…to become Sith.”

 

There was a long silence between them.

 

“Lish…tell me you’re happy. Just think if we’d left—we’d have missed out…”

 

“I am…happy. It’s good news.”

 

“You sound down…something wrong?”

 

“No…nothing. It’s just…I’m going to miss Ares…Dromund Kaas is so far away.”

 

“True…but we knew this day would come. We have to do right by him. It’s what Lord Tacitus would have wanted.”

 

“I suppose…”

 

“Where is he…I want to tell him all about it.”

 

“He’s outside…I’ll call for him.”

 

“This is what he was meant for, Lish. I can hardly wait to see the look on his face.”

 

“I want him to be happy, I want him to have everything,” she said softly.

 

“And now…it looks like we can finally give it to him.”

 

A moment of silence passed between them, and then my mother’s voice cut through the evening air—sharp as freshly honed clever—and all too willing to cut through any obstacle that stood in the way of my future.

 

I scrambled up from my cot and crawled out under the side wall. The sun had almost set and I rubbed the sandy remnants of sleep from my eyes. As they cleared, the memory of the alien bounty hunter and Lord Corsin crept back into my awareness. I caught myself hoping it had all been a bad dream, but the smear of green blood on my arm reminded me it wasn’t. I licked my thumb and rubbed at the mark until it faded.

 

My father had never been so happy, but even as a boy, I suspected it was not so much his work ethic as my mother’s promise to the foreman that bred the change in our station.

 

To speak of the hunter would diminish his hard-earned joy; but if one hunter came for us, surely another would follow.

 

If that wasn’t enough, how could I possibly allow my mother to sacrifice her dignity in order to secure my future?

To speak of either secret would mean the end of all things…

 

 

((to be continued…))

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Very nice chapter Luna. Marr is having to grow up very fast and learn that there is always a price to be paid where the Sith are concerned. He always struck me as the type who learned from his experiences, mulled them over and filed them away for future reference. I guess that is what made him such a pragmatic leader and one of the few sith I admired.

 

Can't wait for the next. :D

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Very nice chapter Luna. Marr is having to grow up very fast and learn that there is always a price to be paid where the Sith are concerned. He always struck me as the type who learned from his experiences, mulled them over and filed them away for future reference. I guess that is what made him such a pragmatic leader and one of the few sith I admired.

 

Can't wait for the next. :D

 

Thanks Misha :D He's a smart quiet boy, and probably will have to grow up faster than he should. In a way I feel sorry for him. The Sith world is really harsh. But as you say, he learns from the things he sees and applies his knowledge when circumstances demand it. :)

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As promised, I have come with comments and cookies. And I'm all out of cookies, sorry.

 

Prologue and first chapter right now; chapters two and three will be later today I think.

 

Nihil Caput (Latin… doesn’t really have a word for zero, so the prologue is the “nonexistent chapter.”)

 

 

-So it’s definitely an interesting hook, because you’re obviously writing the story as being set post KOTFE Ch. 1.

-can definitely see in that 4th paragraph the influence of KOTFE Ch. 12.

 

 

 

Unum Caput

 

 

-The first little bit of chapter, where Marr is talking about the Force and his relationship with it conjures to mind Star Trek: Generations… Malcolm McDowell’s character talking about the nature of time, about the Nexus, and of course also the nature of the Nexus as provided by Guinan Exposition. Or maybe a little bit of Doctor Who. Very interesting.

-Having read through the first three chapters, I look at this second paragraph, and I find myself wondering a great deal about Marr’s blood father. He hasn’t received a whole lot of characterization apart from this first chapter.

-This scene reminds me a little bit of an early scene in the Warcraft film.

-Come now, terrible random medic. The Dark Side isn’t that scary :p

-Speaking of ghosts, I wonder about Marr’s blood mother as well. So much to know, so little to slake such curiosity!

-Interesting that there would be a wet nurse, although recalling from back in The Foundation of All Desire, the two house-servants did imply that many high-gloss Sith seem to do a lot of… cosmetic procedures in regards to childbirth. In this case, however, feel as though it was a precaution taken given the apparent precariousness of Marr’s mother’s health.

-In reading this, I can’t help but wonder how much of Marr is Marr Marr, and how much of Marr is baby Marr. (That sounds incredibly awkward on paper.) There’s a certain tremendous precociousness here.

-So this Ailan man is a bit of an enigma given that he’s not Imperial. Marr was born quite a bit of time before the Sith Empire reinvaded the galaxy so he can’t be Republic either. Curious, especially considering there’s nothing about his wife which suggests that she’s not Imperial (and given implications in chapter three, I doubt a Pureblood would want to take her to bed were she not).

-I’ve always admired your ability to so swiftly push events along, to so efficiently have the **** hit the fan, as it were.

-Impending death is a fantastic motivator, isn’t it? Cue the Mission: Impossible theme! :p

-I really enjoy the “hurt” here; we find out it’s such a delicious understatement. And how truly hardcore Marr’s blood father was that he could keep fighting after a wound like that.

-What an interesting color. Blue. Not the usual Sith purple. And unlike the usual green the ability manifests itself as from Jedi (ignoring Jaina “Honest guv I’m not a mary sue” Solo, whose force lightning was black!)

-A very sort of Darth Vader moment here. “I wish to look upon you with… my own eyes.”

-If Lord Tacitus could sense his wife dying, I suppose it stands to reason she was Force sensitive as well.

-A very excellent sort of cliffhanger here. Scourge is very clearly planning very long term; not just ensuring that it would be Liatrix who would come to Dromund Kaas and do battle with the Emperor, but also that it could come to pass that Liatrix would exist at all. It would surprise me in no way that it would be Scourge’s influence which made Liaseph a slave on Dromund Kaas to meet Marr again over anywhere else in the galaxy.

 

 

 

EDIT: hahaha, got all the review in before anyone else responded!

 

Secundum Caput

 

 

-“It is during childhood we create our first masks…” And also when we are gifted them!

-Also a very curious notion, this opening exposition. Marr is clearly talking about what happens in the chapter – hiding who he really is.

-As a point of interesting note regarding your imagery, at the very beginning of Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (and again at the very end of Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones), there’s a voiceover by the eponymous Prince, and he has this to say regarding time: “Most people think time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction. But I have seen the face of time, and I can tell you: they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm.” I find it much the same as Marr seems to be perceiving the Force here.

-It’s somehow very Marr that he’s doing on the job training for becoming a Force ghost, through sheer brute-force willpower rather than careful study in life.

-Very interesting take on Valkorion (and I, too, recall that thread regarding speculation of the Zakuulan gods in the story and lore section :p). I wonder how close to the mark you are?

-Most fascinating that the living Force here isn’t merely alive but also conscious and it is trying to get some **** done and Marr is just having none of it.

-Are you trying to insinuate here that the Force is just another Zakuulan god?

-I’ve said it many times and I shall say it again: Krayiss II. How do you find these details?

-Child-Marr is acting with a spectacularly Jedi-like modus operandi here; in a way it’s extra sad because if he beat the crap out of another kid, he’d be left alone.

-Did Lish also stick a hatchet in a table map when she said that? :p

-I really enjoy both how tender this father-son bonding is… and how absurd it also is. “Here’s a lightsaber, my boy. Don’t point the business end in your face like Luke did in A New Hope.”

-They’re not truly ignorant, though? They know there’s that Lord Taxon, who, curiously, is naught but a name right now. And once Marr settles his debt with them, even less than that.

-At the same time, however, this is Marr we’re talking about. And the Empire we’re talking about. And you know I’m just going to make peace with the fact that were are unfortunately going to watch Ailan and Lish die :(

-Child-Marr does have a point. What good is a sheet to stave off prying eyes when it doesn’t stop eavesdropping ears?

-I wonder if Ailan suspects of this Lord Corsin what this Lord Corsin does next chapter? It sounds a bit like he might.

-OHSNAPS! Cliffhanger time!

 

 

 

Tertium Caput

 

 

-I just realized… how do you get the words to sit in the middle?

-Am I a terrible person for being racist against Trandoshans?

-Well, she’s definitely not lying about knowing a Darth Taxon. I don’t know them, either. No, that’s a lie. I don’t know if you know this, but taxon is a backformation from taxonomy, which itself comes from the Greek word τάξις, meaning “order.” But that’s all I got.

-Stabby stabby! First kills are often so accidental, aren’t they?

-This is such a mother thing, haha. OMG you’re safe! *crushes*

-Fun fact about predators: if they find a free meal they will come back again later. Oh, hi Lord Corsin! *cough*

-Well he doesn’t seem like a terrible dude, just a bit lecherous. A Sith… Doc, if you will.

-Child-Marr is being a spy, I see. In another life, he could have been Keeper :p

-Again with the insanely eldritch details! Kopi tea is mentioned exactly once in all of the Star Wars, in a children’s book, no less. How do you find these details?!

-Myess, he would have to go to Dromund Kaas for schooling since Korriban hasn’t been retaken yet.

-There is only one thing that silence is. Mmhm.

 

 

Edited by Diviciacus
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Thanks for the great commentary! My answers in blue! :)

 

As promised, I have come with comments and cookies. And I'm all out of cookies, sorry. Oh well, I'll just take your cat. He's cute. :D

 

Prologue and first chapter right now; chapters two and three will be later today I think.

 

Nihil Caput (Latin… doesn’t really have a word for zero, so the prologue is the “nonexistent chapter.”)

 

 

-So it’s definitely an interesting hook, because you’re obviously writing the story as being set post KOTFE Ch. 1.

-can definitely see in that 4th paragraph the influence of KOTFE Ch. 12.

 

 

 

Unum Caput

 

 

-The first little bit of chapter, where Marr is talking about the Force and his relationship with it conjures to mind Star Trek: Generations… Malcolm McDowell’s character talking about the nature of time, about the Nexus, and of course also the nature of the Nexus as provided by Guinan Exposition. Or maybe a little bit of Doctor Who. Very interesting.

I loved Malcolm McDowell in that movie, he was the best part of it. "Time is the fire in which we burn!" Is one of my favorite quotes ever. It's been years since I've seen that, but it could be an influence, cause I did enjoy it. I've never watched a full episode of Doctor Who and haven't really been a fan of that, so I wouldn't know if there are any Whovian influences.

 

 

-Having read through the first three chapters, I look at this second paragraph, and I find myself wondering a great deal about Marr’s blood father. He hasn’t received a whole lot of characterization apart from this first chapter. Well, can't have too much exposition at once lol. I reckon we'll learn more about Lord Tacitus in the near future. :D

-This scene reminds me a little bit of an early scene in the Warcraft film. I hadn't seen that at the time of writing, now I'm going to have to check it out for that lol.

-Come now, terrible random medic. The Dark Side isn’t that scary :pYes it is! :D

-Speaking of ghosts, I wonder about Marr’s blood mother as well. So much to know, so little to slake such curiosity! Patience, padawan :D

-Interesting that there would be a wet nurse, although recalling from back in The Foundation of All Desire, the two house-servants did imply that many high-gloss Sith seem to do a lot of… cosmetic procedures in regards to childbirth. In this case, however, feel as though it was a precaution taken given the apparent precariousness of Marr’s mother’s health. Some of the women on Marr's side of the family have blood pressure complications in pregnancy. Liatrix had that too.

 

-In reading this, I can’t help but wonder how much of Marr is Marr Marr, and how much of Marr is baby Marr. (That sounds incredibly awkward on paper.) There’s a certain tremendous precociousness here. It's a bit of both, because Marr Marr is existing on two plains at this point, as a boy and as a spirit...so he can relive what he experienced and omniciently narrarate about it...honestly it's a real challenge and a head ache I didn't quite anticipate when I started. You have no idea how many times this thing so far as been rewritten until it sounded...right to me.

 

-So this Ailan man is a bit of an enigma given that he’s not Imperial. Marr was born quite a bit of time before the Sith Empire reinvaded the galaxy so he can’t be Republic either. Curious, especially considering there’s nothing about his wife which suggests that she’s not Imperial (and given implications in chapter three, I doubt a Pureblood would want to take her to bed were she not). I'd say Lish is definitely an Imperial...low born but an Imperial...Ailan I think came from the outer rim. I had his accent fluctuate a bit, so that it might have been an influence on Marr's fluctuating accent. At times his accent fluctuates too. I thought it might be something he picked up and kept from his upbringing.

 

-I’ve always admired your ability to so swiftly push events along, to so efficiently have the **** hit the fan, as it were. Thank you :D I like to keep things moving along.

-Impending death is a fantastic motivator, isn’t it? Cue the Mission: Impossible theme! :p

 

-I really enjoy the “hurt” here; we find out it’s such a delicious understatement. And how truly hardcore Marr’s blood father was that he could keep fighting after a wound like that. I think Marr definitely inherited his strength and tenacity from his blood father.

 

-What an interesting color. Blue. Not the usual Sith purple. And unlike the usual green the ability manifests itself as from Jedi (ignoring Jaina “Honest guv I’m not a mary sue” Solo, whose force lightning was black!) I was a bit inspired here by Sidious's lightning...at times it looks very blue when he's shooting it at Luke in RoTJ.

 

-A very sort of Darth Vader moment here. “I wish to look upon you with… my own eyes.” I'm glad this part worked out that way, I hoped it would translate and it did, you're not the first to make that connection. :)

-If Lord Tacitus could sense his wife dying, I suppose it stands to reason she was Force sensitive as well. They were both force sensitives.

 

-A very excellent sort of cliffhanger here. Scourge is very clearly planning very long term; not just ensuring that it would be Liatrix who would come to Dromund Kaas and do battle with the Emperor, but also that it could come to pass that Liatrix would exist at all. It would surprise me in no way that it would be Scourge’s influence which made Liaseph a slave on Dromund Kaas to meet Marr again over anywhere else in the galaxy.

 

Scourge dedicated a lot of himself to his visions and through them, I reckon he had an idea of how to influence the desired outcome.

 

EDIT: hahaha, got all the review in before anyone else responded!

 

Secundum Caput

 

 

-“It is during childhood we create our first masks…” And also when we are gifted them! True that.

-Also a very curious notion, this opening exposition. Marr is clearly talking about what happens in the chapter – hiding who he really is. I like to think that every "Marr-ism" hints at the themes in the chapter.

-As a point of interesting note regarding your imagery, at the very beginning of Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time (and again at the very end of Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones), there’s a voiceover by the eponymous Prince, and he has this to say regarding time: “Most people think time is like a river that flows swift and sure in one direction. But I have seen the face of time, and I can tell you: they are wrong. Time is an ocean in a storm.” I find it much the same as Marr seems to be perceiving the Force here. I saw the first Prince of Persia in the theater when it came out...I haven't seen it since, or it's sequel at all. I think that's pretty cool that the imagery relates, cause then it means others can relate to it being that way as well.

-It’s somehow very Marr that he’s doing on the job training for becoming a Force ghost, through sheer brute-force willpower rather than careful study in life. I could see this about him...and it was that way many times for him, if there is no one to teach you, you teach yourself. Marr has a lot of initiative.

 

-Very interesting take on Valkorion (and I, too, recall that thread regarding speculation of the Zakuulan gods in the story and lore section :p). I wonder how close to the mark you are? I dont' know, I saw that after, but it seemed to fit in so much that I wondered if the poster read my story :D or if it was just GMTA.

 

-Most fascinating that the living Force here isn’t merely alive but also conscious and it is trying to get some **** done and Marr is just having none of it. Only Marr would be stubborn enough to fight the Force.

-Are you trying to insinuate here that the Force is just another Zakuulan god? Nope, the Force is just the higher power...no relation to Zakuulan things...but that's not to say that the Force is ignorant of what's unfolding.

-I’ve said it many times and I shall say it again: Krayiss II. How do you find these details? I do a frightening amount of research, even for ordinary things, like a planet where he might have lived on for a while.

-Child-Marr is acting with a spectacularly Jedi-like modus operandi here; in a way it’s extra sad because if he beat the crap out of another kid, he’d be left alone. It is interesting in many ways, that I don't want to say anything about yet :D In a lot of ways Young Marr does seem very Jedi like and there are reasons for that.

-Did Lish also stick a hatchet in a table map when she said that? :p :D Ha ha no.

-I really enjoy both how tender this father-son bonding is… and how absurd it also is. “Here’s a lightsaber, my boy. Don’t point the business end in your face like Luke did in A New Hope.” I figured that's something you make a point of telling someone about, it's serious business lol.

 

-They’re not truly ignorant, though? They know there’s that Lord Taxon, who, curiously, is naught but a name right now. And once Marr settles his debt with them, even less than that. We'll get to know more about Taxon as the story goes on. He has motivations and has it out for the Tacitus line because of certain spiritual connections they have. The servants know the name, but not much else...they're kind of hoping they won't find out...

-At the same time, however, this is Marr we’re talking about. And the Empire we’re talking about. And you know I’m just going to make peace with the fact that were are unfortunately going to watch Ailan and Lish die :(Well, you may not have to 'watch' them die...I'm working on that part this week, but yah, I know you call me Luna RR Martin for a reason. :o

-Child-Marr does have a point. What good is a sheet to stave off prying eyes when it doesn’t stop eavesdropping ears? Exactly, I did that to show that he can be a little smart alec too.

 

-I wonder if Ailan suspects of this Lord Corsin what this Lord Corsin does next chapter? It sounds a bit like he might.

-OHSNAPS! Cliffhanger time! I'm not so sure Ailan suspects anything like that about Lish, he's too heavily obsessed with artifacts and finding 'this Tulak Hord.' He's a man who takes his promises very seriously, so he's trying to do that. What he also doesn't realize is that he's been brusque with Lish, and not devoting time to her and a distance has developed between them. She's flattered by the Lord's attention, and she also sees that there is something to be gotten out of it, so win-win.

 

 

 

Tertium Caput

 

 

-I just realized… how do you get the words to sit in the middle? I center them...there are settings in the posting window, just under text sizes. You can also do square bracket center square bracket the words you want centered and then square bracket slash center square bracket.

 

-Am I a terrible person for being racist against Trandoshans? If you are, I am too, I'm not really a fan of the big lizard people honestly. They're neat looking but their language drives me nuts. One reason I hated having Qyzen as a sidekick for a while.

 

-Well, she’s definitely not lying about knowing a Darth Taxon. I don’t know them, either. No, that’s a lie. I don’t know if you know this, but taxon is a backformation from taxonomy, which itself comes from the Greek word τάξις, meaning “order.” But that’s all I got. She knows the name, but thats about all, so it's kind of a lie...though she couldn't pick him out of a line up. I really appreciate that you're picking up on some of my naming convention tricks :D

 

-Stabby stabby! First kills are often so accidental, aren’t they?They were this time...I wanted him to kill it, but he hasn't had any training really, except how to turn on the weapon...

 

-This is such a mother thing, haha. OMG you’re safe! *crushes* I'd totally do that to my son, so...yah it's pretty authentic I think lol.

 

-Fun fact about predators: if they find a free meal they will come back again later. Oh, hi Lord Corsin! *cough* He hee, interesting, I figured they'd come back looking for more, but Lord Corsin will have a different fate.

 

-Well he doesn’t seem like a terrible dude, just a bit lecherous. A Sith… Doc, if you will. Yeah, that's about right. He's not actually a terrible sort, he's kind of a mix between Doc and Vowrawn, and sounds like Abbadon (you know the guy at the academy who does the pure blood holocron quest, where you test certain overseers for blood purity)

 

-Child-Marr is being a spy, I see. In another life, he could have been Keeper :pKids can be sneaky, and I suspect there have been times he's escaped when he didn't feel like 'bed time' lol.

 

-Again with the insanely eldritch details! Kopi tea is mentioned exactly once in all of the Star Wars, in a children’s book, no less. How do you find these details?! I google star wars 'drinks' and go through the wiki list lol. That's how I get things a lot of the time.

 

-Myess, he would have to go to Dromund Kaas for schooling since Korriban hasn’t been retaken yet. Yep so I get to invent a whole new academy with teachers and overseers and students and everything. My gods, what did I do. I have to invent star wars Hogwarts now. Great. :t_confused:

-There is only one thing that silence is. Mmhm.

 

Edited by Lunafox
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