The Devils in the Details: When it all comes undone, Part 1

[Hera]

Hera was having trouble deciding which was the more disturbing - the grinning, painted faces of the carosel animals, strangely grotesque in the shifting shadows that fell on them like water, or, that the twins kept calling her 'mother'.

The slowly crescending music, the childish teasing of the girls, the whole weirdness of the setup all together was starting to grate on the Sith's patience, short as it was. She was about to shout at them to stop the games and tell her what she was supposed to be looking for, when the box popped and the twin dropped it to the floor.

The movement of it, the hampered skip along the floor made Hera and the soldier step back a pace, startled.


Drawn by curiosity, and yes, the annoying prompting of the girls, Hera moved forward and peered inside. Atropos? Hera gasped, shocked and was immediately suspicious. What do they know? Who are these people that know such things? Had they found her lightsaber? Had they found ShadowFaene? And the crow - what was its meaning? She immediately pictured Rommelisch, the ancient mage who lurked like a shadow within the Imperial Citadel. One she had courted as a friend, or more accurately - an ally. Did this little production involve him?

The voices had gone quiet, Hera noticed at length. So too had the music. Sound seemed to have been blanketed in a thick wrap so that all she could hear was the crow's beak pecking against its confines. The room had darkened, enfolding her in its black cape. She couldn't see the soldier who had accompanied her. Nor could she see the carosel and the painted faces. The blackness was complete with the exception of a circle where she was standing. Just beyond the reach of the light, she heard small footsteps shuffling towards her. They seemed to come from every direction and Hera turned her head first left, then right in order to locate their origin.

"Is this all there is for me to see?" she asked the shadows, her tone deliberately gentle and inviting confidence. "What is it that I need to do?"

[The Gemellae]

"Set yourself free."
"Set yourself free." They whispered. The voices had changed. Still familiar enough to recognize the voices were still that of the little girls but the sweet accent of youth had left them. The change in their voices clarified when two faces suddenly emerged from the shadows. Not at hip level where Hera was expecting. Instead she found herself staring directly forward at the two girls who now neared her own height.

"That is what you must do. Father tells us animals who are caged too long forget. They forget who they are, what they are, and just accept they are no longer wild. You are no animal mother but we wonder, have you forgotten?" The two twins spoke in unison like they always did and when they finished one of them raised a fist. Within that fist was a lightsaber, its hilt was gilded and its shape and length drew memories of familiarity. Atropos, Hera thought immediately, when it was passed into her hand. No...it wasn't Atropos, its design was almost identical but the gilded hilt had a wash of silver in it and the inscription read 'Morta'.

Behind them a circle of light shot down from the ceiling to reveal Hera's guard. He was tied to a chair. He was struggling against his restraints, jerking his torso forwards then back several times before slumping against the chair in futility. The guard's hands twitched against his binds when he saw the three women staring at him. Next to him was another man with a black bag placed over his head. A trickle of crimson was dripping down his neck. His body was motionless with only the steady rise and fall of his chest to hint he was still alive.

"Free yourself."
"Free yourself." The twins sweetly chimed again as they stood aside, inviting Hera to make her choice.

[Naberius]

The ship sped quickly through Coruscant's atmosphere. Bypassing shipping lanes and regular launch procedures it was quickly flagged by Imperial shipping authorities. After several hailing attempts the Commander of the Victory II-class Star Destroyer 'Glorious Reckoning' was contacted for assistance.

On board the Glorious Reckoning, maintaining fleet security over Coruscant's Orbit.

Commander Oloc Bentir scowled down at the data pad. The communications officer standing at Oloc's side swallowed hard knowing his commanders temper. "Unacceptable. You can take this order along with the last two and toss it out the airlock. Tell that fool to do the same with himself. This ship does not submit to his whims. This is still the Imperial Navy and I'll be damned before I let some secret authority tell me otherwise."

"Commander Port Sec. requesting support in apprehending a renegade shuttle escaping orbit toward our position." A young ensign called up from the communications trench.

The Commander stirred in his chair, handing back the data pad to the nervously pale communications officer standing next to him. "Renegade shuttle?"

"Yes Commander. It apparently broke shipping queue and has left orbit without authorization. Its lacking any markings or identification and It's refusing communication."

"Is it manned?"

"Scans have confirmed life signs aboard the shuttle, sir."

"Very well. Launch a squadron of fighters to intercept the renegade shuttle. Disable it and bring it into the hanger bay. We'll find out what this is about." Oloc stood with a sigh, this was becoming a cumbersome day.

-------

On board the unmarked shuttle

Naberius snorted disgustingly as he pushed himself back from a smoking command console. It was spitting sparks and sizzling with the stink of burnt wiring. The fighters had past them once with a volley of warning shots across their bow. When Naberius failed to change course they sidled up on the shuttles flanks and disabled her with ion blasts. The shuttle was now listing to the left side as it floated dead through space.

The trandoshan found himself weightless and floating next to Baralai. The aging shuttles gravity plating must have been shorted with the ion blasts. Not that it mattered, gravity would be restored once they were pulled into the Star Destroyers hanger. At that point the ship would be swarmed by storm troopers as they systematically cleared and searched every room and compartment on the ship until they found them.

Naberius glanced a look to Baralai who had remained silent through the attack. Perhaps he was preparing a plot on how to preform his given task. The trandoshan had felt the same when he undertook his first mission. It had changed him. His body had been whole at that time there was only the flesh but now he was more then just mere flesh. He glanced to his left hand, his right remained on a bulk head to keep him from floating aimlessly. He was born with three clawed fingers on each hand, like all trandoshan's, but he was no longer like all trandoshan's. He had been transformed into something greater.

Naberius's mind was shaken from thought as he felt the ships hull rumble beneath his grip. Glancing out the nearest view port he noted their speed increasing toward the Star Destroyer.The 'Glorious Reckoning' was pulling her toward their hanger bay with a tractor beam.

"It wont be long now Ouroboros."

[Hera]

It was difficult to pull her eyes from the weapon the girls had placed so freely in her hand. So many years since she'd had the honor. Her fingers folded familiarly around it, gripping firmly then opening once more to cradle it reverantly in the palm of her hand.

..Morta... The word 's meaning was not immediately known to Hera and she cast her thoughts to the corners of her mind in an attempt to recall it. It was not of her homeworld origin, that she knew instinctively, but she had heard it someplace before.

Peck..peck..peck

The crow was testing its confines, feeling its limitations with its beak within the box, as the girls called to her.

"Free yourself
Free yourself"

Hera looked up, and then over to where her guard and another man were held bound.

This was all so damn cryptic.

Peck..peck..peck

The guard was looking at her now, clearly uncertain as to his chances, but yet he held out hope. Hera could see it in the unspoken plea of his eyes.

"Free yourself
Free yourself"

She ignited the lightsaber, and the shock of light that shot from its hilt made Hera rock back on her feet a little. The blade illuminated the room and drew every eye to it. Even the man with the bag covering his head, tilted towards the blade's presence, sensing or perhaps hearing it.

The power the weapon engendered was intoxicating, and Hera laughed a little.

Peck..peck...peck

"Free yourself
Free yourself"

Free myself...

Hera folded the lightsaber through the darkness, threading and weaving it in a mesmerizing flow. The young guard could not look away from it, though his eyes were huge with fear. The other captive caught each breath as the hum of the weapon came close, then withdrew.

Peck...peck...peck

"Free yourself
Free yourself"

Without warning, Hera spun, seizing one of the twins by the throat and threatening the other at chest-point with the lightsaber.

The crow cawed racously at the sudden movement and flapped its wings in agitation.

"Morta..Godess of death, if I recall correctly" she said to the twins, a disturbing humor in her voice. "A cannibal, apparently. Do you think she devoured her young?"

She tightened her grip on the one girl's throat and stepped an inch closer to the other.

"It's time you showed me the way out of here" she said darkly.

[The Gemellae]

It probably delighted Hera to see the look of shock settle coldly into the faces of both twins. As one took a step back from the point of the saber while the other struggled under the Siths grasp, her fingers trying to pry room to breath.

"We did." The twins responded, their voices cracking in unison. The twin at the saber points end winced uncomfortably while her hand clutched at her throat. She took another step back which took her closer to the two prisoners. "We came to take you back to father."

A chill struck Hera then. At first the thought was the allusion to another player in this sick play of darkness and dance but then the numbing feeling of her fingers stung the point of reality home. Hera looked back to what she knew should have been her hand wrapped around warm flesh instead she found the swollen eyes of a child weeping under her grasp. The child hung limply from her neck under the Siths grasp. The twins feet dangled clear from the ground while her arms swayed lifeless at her sides, no longer struggling. Several slow tears fell from plump paling blue cheeks conveying the sorrow filled look of mercy her eyes held.

"Please mother, you are hurting us.
Please mother, you are hurting us." Hera glanced forward again to the stronger of the two voices and found the other twins height had washed away back to the child in a simple white dress. She was holding up the crows cage while her legs and arms trembled convincingly under the weight.

"If you open. We can show you." The twin holding the cage began to weep silently now but it took Hera a moment to understand why. The voices always in unison had stopped. This time the twin had spoken alone as the other girl held in the Siths grasp had gone silent. "Please..."

[Hera]

If the girls had been expecting some form of maternal sensitivity from the Sith, they were greatly misguided. Even if they really were a production from her own genetic blueprint, Hera had no motherly instincts whatsoever and, in point of fact, had always determindly avoided any such weakness. Hera had no time for children, had no inclination to find time for children and, quite frankly, never understood those who chose to burden themselves with such leeching, soulsucking, grubby encumbrances as offspring. The child before her wept quietly atleast, that was a small mercy.

Hera allowed the first twin to slip her grasp and the child sank delicately to the floor, her small frame wraith-like in its fragility. With her free hand, Hera snatched from the mirror image the box containing the crow.

"Fine" she said, disengaging the lightsaber and tucking it into her belt. She turned the outer clasp and opened the box, holding it at armslength incase the agitated creature burst forward in an excited effort to escape.

The prisoners had remained still, silent audience to the drama playing out infront of them.

Hera was curious as to the identity of the second captive, but all things in good time. As she kept one eye on the bird and the other on the second twin, Hera drew things back to the mystery at hand, "Just who is father?"

[The Message]

The crow cawed, its head canting to the side to view Hera with a soulless black eye. Its wings fluttering for balance as it hopped from its cage and onto it's liberators wrist. Beyond the crow the twin was smiling widely, her eyes still swollen with tears, one might have mistaken the situation for the twin getting caught laughing too hard. Her demeanor had changed drastically from the mournful weeping girl into a giggling child who's posture was bent with playfulness.

"Thats one of fathers friends." The smiling twin had her hands shyly clumped at her chest and was angling a mischievously crooked finger toward the hooded prisoner. Before Hera could turn to regard the prisoner she felt slender arms slide leisurely over her shoulders in what felt like a...hug?

"At least we know mother has not lost her teeth." Two voices echoed in unison again. The second twin had risen silently from the ground while the Sith's attention had drifted to the Crow and its cage. No longer a child, the second twin was standing tall having shed the illusion once again. She leaned forward resting her chin in the spot between her 'mother's' neck and shoulder. "Do you see it yet?" They whispered.

If Hera had been trying to move up to this point, weather to shrug the woman off or fling the Crow, who was inching its way up her arm, she would instead find her body wasn't listening. Again she tried to move, this time teeth clenched, with straining hiss of air escaping her lips. Nothing, she was paralyzed while the crow's black eyes kept steady on the Sith.

"Maybe she needs help to see." Exclaimed the twin, who still looked the part of a child in a simple white dress, as she skipped toward the tied up guard. The little girl reached up and began to climb up his legs. Gripping tightly to his uniform when he twitched in an attempt to shake her off, she continued undeterred. When she successfully reached the summit of his knee the guard suspiciously craned his neck back and away as far it would stretch from the girl. With arms outstretched for balance she took step after step toward him until finally she stopped and leaped forward coming down hard with both feet into his lap. The guard buckled under the impact, instinctively leaning forward to try and protect himself. The little girl reached up and quickly dug her finger nails into both of the man's eye sockets. the guard screamed and violently rocked the girl off. The tiny crimson haired child landed with a thump next to the chair. She was giggling with her red stained hands cupped to her chest like she had trapped a mouse. Standing she trotted quickly over to her sister and 'mother'.

The child climbed up Hera's frozen body. Her tiny feet hooking into the Siths belt to keep her steady as she looked into her 'mother's' cold blue eyes. The little girl smiled, but it was a cruel smile, dark and sinister, unnatural for any child.

"Close your eyes mother..." With tiny bloody fingers the small girl peeled back Hera's lips, wriggling finger tips between teeth, to wedge open a stiff mouth. Reaching inside she grabbed the Sith's quivering pink tongue and squeezed. In her other hand she let the severed eye of the guard drip and dangle between them.

"Do you remember what happens next? Father told us the story." It was slow at first the tight pull from the girl's little hand as it stretched her tongue uncomfortably. Then the sharp sting underneath and the flooding taste of iron filling her mouth. The sound of ripping flesh accompanied by soft gurgling until finally, like a loose tooth, Hera's tongue was ripped out.

Then it all came undone, like some disputed sweater, a thread was pulled and the darkness of it all unraveled. Shadow and blood gave way to an enveloping white world. Underneath it she could here a single voice, dulled and dim, like it was on the other side of a Coruscanti hotel wall. What was it saying? The more she focused on the voice the more the white world around her faded. First to simple shapes, then colors, slivers of emerald, rectangles of metallic grays. She felt the soft warmth of a blanket slide from her shoulders as she unknowingly rolled over in bed. Blinking, Hera suddenly bolted upright as if waking up from some horrid nightmare. She found herself staring at her surroundings while her mind worked to shake off the sands of sleep that made everything feel foggy and dull. A quick, testing, flick of her tongue (which was very much intact) against the roof of her mouth which was a reassuring sensation.

Was it a dream?

[Tear]

"Pleasant dreams, Hera?" His voice a familiar nightmare in itself. The Inquisitor was sitting on a simple chair next to Hera's bed.

[Hera]

It was with difficulty that Hera focused on the words spoken to her. Her reality had been torn from the gruesome events of moments before like pages ripped from a book and tossed to flutter and land where they may.
Ironically, they fell at the feet of a man Hera had not really ever expected to see again. The shock to her was evidenced in the thumping of her heart in her chest and the feeling of dread that, like a cold sweat, had broken out all over her.

The dark amusement in his voice was at Hera's expense. She knew she must look as bewildered as she felt. Thank god her tongue was still in her head. She shivered involuntarily at the memory, it had all felt so real.

Attempting to compose herself, Hera sat up straighter and ran a hand through her hair. Finally, daring to catch Tear's eyes and hold them with a defiant glare, she spoke with her usual candid spite, "Where the frell have you been?"

[Tear]

His features remained unflinching under her presumptuous tone. After all, despite his absence in her life, Hera had only been gone in his for a short period of time. Tear had grown used to her impudent attitude. It was a trait every Hera marked clone exhibited. "Still as sassy as I remembered."

But he, no doubt, was not as she remembered. His blonde hair no longer fell in long strands but were now cut short and slicked back. The lines in his face had deepened and his features hardened, giving a hint that where ever he had been it had tested him. His once icy blue eyes were now an angry blaze of orange and yellows and although she did not yet know it the once fine line the Inquisitor had always tread between madness and duty had been forever lost.

Ignoring Hera's question he countered with one of his own. Steepled finger tips offered her a glass of water, still dripping with condensation, to sweeten a response. "When offered the chance to kill that guard and free yourself, why didn't you take it?"

[Hera]

"You were wanting a little stereotypical Sith mayhem and bloodlust were you?" she answered derisively. "If your memory serves you so well, Tear, then you'll know I dont like to do what's expected of me. Besides, there was no advantage in killing those men, they were at no point any threat to me. It will take more than two dead lackeys to free me." She paused and her eyes narrowed, "How do you even know about those guards anyway?"

Hera's face took on a distasteful expression as a new thought occurred to her, "Was it you that made the tadpoles? Are you Father?"

That would explain some things, she supposed. It also made the twins referring to her as 'Mother' that much more disturbing.

"There was a carousel.." she rubbed her face with her hands as she stimulated her memory, "And a Crow. And a lightsaber." She immediately began to pad the covers with her hands and ran searching fingers beneath the pillows. Not surprisingly, the lightsaber was not there to be found.

She turned her focus again to Tear who was watching her closely. She had not really taken in his appearance too carefully at first, the whole thank-god-Ive-still-got-my-tongue thing taking up much of her attention. But, studying him now, he looked a little unhinged. His eyes were like two supernova's going off inside his skull giving him a decidedly volitile appearance. It was not a change for the better. She took the glass of water, but did not drink.

"What's happened to you?" she asked, "Why have you come back?"

[Tear]

"Maybe I was." He said plainly in response to her question. In truth situation was created as an experiment of control. The result was as predicted, even under influenced conditions she was still rebellious and defiant.

Tear listened silently, watching Hera relive the moments of her encounter with the twins. It was an odd thing to see them interact after so much time. The twins had an incessant curiosity regarding their origins and in particular their Mother. That much was still evident when they interacted with her. The illusions of children, the carousel, their playfulness towards it all. The outcome couldn't have pleased him more. Love is a powerful emotion and to have that love rejected would give them a reservoir of strength to draw from. The confusion of being cast aside by someone they viewed as their mother would also further their dependence on him.

He grinded his teeth tightly in thought as he pondered Hera's tiny inquiry's. Whats happened to me? Why have I come back? Who was she to ask such questions. Does she forget her position? Then again If she was to play her part she would need to know about some of it eventually. Tear let out a smooth controlled sigh.

"Do you have time for a story?"

[Hera]

"It look to you like Ive got somewhere to be?" she snapped. "Go ahead, tell me your story, Tear."

Hera had a myriad of questions that needed answering, but now did not seem to be the time to ask. The Grand Inquisitor was in a chatty mood, and the less sidetracked he came from that, the better the chances of some sense coming out of the present situation. Her thoughts turned fleetingly to Valten....with Tear back, would that now mean Karl would no longer be sitting in the big chair? The idea was amusing as hell.

Tear could bet, however, that she would be expecting some explanation for the liberties he had taken against her. Sure, she was a prisoner, but him helping himself to her DNA to create the Frankensisters was not going to go unchallenged. Of course, Hera would have to kill the clones. Surely Tear recognised that? Or, loooking at him now, maybe he didn't. Not yet anyway - he didn't exactly appear to Hera that he was in full hold of his mental faculties. That might work in her favor, too. She held that thought close as she shifted in the bed to make herself comfortable. If she recalled correctly, Tear had a tendancy to long-windedness. She settled herself and sipped from the glass of water.

"Im all ears" she said with a smile.

[Tear]

"In the world I see. I'm stalking endlessly around a shattered chain of planets while trying to protect a dying beast. I know it's wounded and going to die. Smells of its death and blood still hang heavy in the air. It draws scavengers too numerous to count. I am faced with a decision." The lights in the room were dim, and easy on the eyes. His voice a calm tone that rang of difference from the excited torturer Hera once met in a cold steel chamber.

"The last time I was on Coruscant the Empire was that dying beast. It had lost its head and was slowly being picked to death, not only from the rebellion, but from within by squabbling, scheming Moffs . I sought a way to change that. It was on the planet Vjun, in Bast castle where I discovered recounts of Vader's former battles, intelligence data, and even his personal holo notations. Much of it was ruined and those items not destroyed were beyond comprehension by even the most scholarly of my Imperial scientists." There was a dark tone in his voice giving hint to something more grand then he was letting on.

"None of it made sense. His notes were cryptic and mostly written in semantics, that I'm sure only another Sith could understand, and I was no Sith. At that point in time the force was nothing more then a tool to me. No different then a blaster or a powered suit of armor. There were nuances and methods to learn this tool but the mysticism so many held toward it I always found laughable.

So how do you get a handle on a science that has no form of measurement? You speak to those who have studied it longer then you. In Vader's notes I found mention of a planet called Susevfi. Apparently, the Dark lord was approached by a force sensitive hailing from a cult that was located, and later destroyed, from the same planet. After they were massacred an imperial outpost was setup to keep watch. While at Bast, as fate would have it, I began receiving reports of force sensitives raiding that same outpost. So I gathered an Inquisitorial task force and left to investigate.

It was a cult calling themselves the Jensaari. They practiced a mixture of philosophies and from what I understood they had an honorable code much like Jedi but from the way they fought allowed emotions to guide their actions like the Sith." He shook his head lightly as if there was a tang of regret at the memory. They had been a most formidable force, smart, disciplined and vicious in the defense of their home. They had managed to destroy the outpost in the conflict. But the ending was inevitable. They were out numbered, out gunned and heavily out supplied by Imperial forces in orbit. Those that were not killed outright were captured and taken for interrogation.

"One of the cult members was part of a species called the Anzati. This species, through our experiments on him, actually seemed to feed on the life force itself. They were able to 'sense' the presence of it in sentient beings. Especially those that were force sensitive. They actually fed off of it draining the 'soup', I believed he called it, from beings as a form of sustenance.

If such a creature was able to drain life, able to drain the force from another, would it be possible to infuse the force into a being otherwise un-sensitive to the force? Using the surviving Jensaari to decipher the works and recounts of Vader I was finally able to make progress in my research and it all began to fall into place. For the first time I felt it." Tear opened his hands, fingers spread to points with palm facing up. "This connection. This guidance or foresight of my actions. To be able to pull the strings of fate into a conceivable web of possibilities. It was all laid out so plainly for me." His fingers began to curl as if he was slowing crushing an invisible ball. A dull rumble began to shake the furniture in the room. Tear's eyes suddenly flicked back to Hera's and as quickly as it had come the rumbling vanished.

"Have you ever heard of a planet called Khomm or better yet, Cartoa?" He didn't wait for an answer, "Cartoa had been home to the Cranscoc the species who created Spaarti controlling devices. During the Clone wars there was a factory of Cloning Cylinders made by the Cranscoc. Most if not all were presumed destroyed during the war. The Khomm, however, are a race dependent on the science of cloning. To them it's their only means left of survival and procreation. I had originally sought them out for information regarding cloning but was disappointed in learning their process was extremely limited to their own genome. However, It was these people who pointed me in the direction of Cartoa and their fabled Spaarti cloning Cylinders." Tear left out the minor detail of leading a task force to invade Khomm. Where he nearly decimated the entire planet in his savage search for answers. As slaves the Khommites were more forth coming regarding their science and the locations of others who might be of use.

It was at that point he stopped. Silently mulling the details of the past few years in his head. It had taken just over a year for his forces to find what remained of the Spaarti devices on Cartoa. Most were too damaged to be of any use and those that were recoverable took repairs and modifications that spanned another year before they were ready for experimental procedures. During that time he continued his research into the possible transfusion of the force into a clone in efforts to ultimately create a force sensitive army. The captured Jensaari were again key in discovering the secrets in Vader's data that inevitably lead him to one of the last pieces of the puzzle on the planet Serenno. It was in the late Count Dooku's family residence that he found equipment and data regarding the manipulation of Qymaen jai Sheelal, a Kaleesh general.

Dooku had managed to infuse the general with the blood of a dead Jedi. In essence instilling him with life to keep kept him alive long enough to be transformed into a cybernetic creature known as General Grevious. The droid General's exploits were legendary even though it was rumored that Grevious himself was not force sensitive. It was clear the infusion seemed to have instill some sort of gift. Regardless, it was a start to the entire process and with the final puzzle piece in hand the experiments began.

"I will spare you the minor details but needless to say I found what I required. The cloning process wasn't so agreeable in our first attempts. It took over three hundred test trials before a viable clone was produced. A simple humanoid at first. It was actually one of the good doctors who volunteered his genes for the first attempts. After the initial success we began focusing our efforts in cloning force sensitives." Tear stood from the chair his face twisting in frustration with the mere memory of it all.

Stepping toward a seemingly solid gray wall he raised a gloved hand, tapping a hidden panel, causing the metallic wall to slide away to reveal a broad durasteel window. Beyond the window hung Coruscant. It's glittering gold surface spun ever so slowly beneath the endless lines of shipping lanes which seemed to stream endlessly from the massive gold planet. He glanced back casually at Hera watching for the realization that she was not planet side any longer.

"They were all failures. The force sensitive clones died mere weeks after being created. Using the dead we tried to use the force sensitive blood and infuse it into regular human clones. They died in much the same way after every procedure. It seemed the life we were attempting to fuse into them was the very source of the corruption that ended up destroying every clone we created. In the end we decided to use a single subjects DNA and refocus our efforts." Tear turned, blazing orange eyes studied Hera carefully for a moment.

"You were that subject and regardless of our increasingly successful attempts at prolonging expiration every force sensitive clone continued to wither and die. I must have watched you die a thousand times."

[Tear]

His wrist beeped cutting the silence and snapping his mind to the present as his memories had inadvertently flooded his thoughts. It was odd seeing Hera with so much life. Snarling defiantly in the monsters maw like she always did. There was a small moment, however, when he looked at her in that bed. He half expected to find death to be found kneeling over her, whispering to her sickly failing body. Sometimes he missed it.

Tear gave the small device hidden around his wrist a squeeze, and a voice emanated from it with response.

"This is Mephis. The one you requested has arrived."

He nodded to himself walking back toward Hera to take his former seat. "So we walked hand in hand with both life and death and in endless circles we went until I saw that path to break us from the ouroboros. We would impregnate the clones with other force sensitive DNA giving us a good chance of offspring with high midi-chlorian counts. There were nine test subjects. Three of which were of the Hera E-generation clone line. The other two died before birth resulting in the death of the infants as well. But the last of the three lived long enough to give birth to twins."

Tear learned forward on his knees as he continued, "Those two girls you met that brought you here. For all intents and purposes of genetics are your daughters and do very much take after your force sensitive legacy.

The reasons for their survival over the other two subjects of your same class line are varied like most scientist theory's are but the one I believe truth seems appropriate. The other two Hera's were lively as most usually are before their death. But the one who successfully gave birth was near death throughout her term. The theory is the twins took the role less of a child in the womb but more of a parasite in the body and were siphoning their mothers very life force to sustain them. Obviously such an act at their development wasn't a conscious choice by the twins but perhaps something more...destined.

And now we have an appointment to keep." Standing the Grand Inquisitor made for the door, "There's more to tell. Coming?"

[Hera]

Hera moved slowly, thoughtfully, from beneath the warmth of the covers as Tear bid her to accompany him.

The tale he'd recounted revealed a great deal about where the Inquisitor had been, and the project that had consumed his attentions, during his long absence from the Citadel. As Hera stepped into her shirt and slacks, (her host having done her the courtesy of leaving them folded neatly on the end of the bed) she considered what it all meant.

Poor Tear, he'd tried to cook himself the beginnings of a Sith army, his best efforts producing a pair of psycotic dopplegangers, who, should they survive, will probably turn against him, killing him like he deserved.
Engineering clone offspring with a force-sensitive was a novel idea, however disgusting, and she had to give him credit for that. But surely the results would only be a pale imitation of the real thing, the purity of the original losing its patency in the process like carbon imprint to paper. Only time will tell, she supposed.

He waited for her, his eyes watching her darkly as she buttoned her shirt. Hera could see in his expression that he was reliving the times he'd stood and watched her die. The bastard.

Why her, she wondered as she passed through the doorway, Tear now falling into step beside her. She looked over to him, tilting her head up slightly as he was atleast a foot taller than she. She held a certain fascination for him, that much was obvious. And she could safely guess who's DNA he'd provided in order to claim the moniker of 'father'. He probably thought he knew her since he'd spent all this time in what passed as her company. "You may live to regret the things you've tampered with Tear" she said a little too casually. "You've taken a frelling great leap accross the proprietary line and I may just to do the same one day." Her cold blue eyes held his, reminding him that she was still a Sith and there are yet surprises she is capable of.

"I want that lightsaber" she said looking ahead once more as they walked. "And that's not a request."

[Tear]

"You are mistaken." His voice was cold as he stated the fact. "It would be surprising if in this massive universe you were able to find anything I would hold valuable enough to evoke a sense of sorrow."

His thought drifted momentarily to the twins. Was there a sense of love there? Some twisted sense of fatherhood? He had witnessed their birth and played the part of father in their brief childhood. He was the tall figure who scooped them up from the ground with scraped knees and cheeks soaked with tears. Maybe he did love them.

Was that a weakness? Could they be his source of eventual sorrow? Or could they be a source of great strength, a focal point of dedication in his quest for a better universe?

"You fail to remember you have no rights here. You are a prisoner and as such, Imperial property. Unlike others I have no illusions regarding your lethality so you will remain unarmed and escorted at all times until you otherwise deem yourself worthy."

Tear reached out suddenly taking Hera by the wrist slowing the pair to a gradual stop. The two stood alone and silent in the corridor. She moved to wrench her wrist from his steely grasp but he turned on her. tightening his grip, and with a hard tug on her arm pulled the rest of her body toward him. Then he spoke, his tone burning dark with conviction...

"You live because I will it so and though I will not deny your place in things I have foreseen, you can be replaced Hera. Do not forget your tone while speaking to me and you will mind your tongue. You are well to remember I am of the mind to rip them out on occasion." With that he let go of her wrist and continued down the corridor.

"Back to other matters before rudely interrupted with your demands. My cloning research spanned many installations with hundreds of scientists working on various experiments throughout Imperial space and beyond. One such installation was beginning their testing on infusing children with the force. Not clones but regular children. Last reports reveal they were very close to a break through when the installation was suddenly destroyed." Tear turned to see Hera, who was trailing slowly behind, a look of contempt spread over her features. He ignored it.

"The labs were destroyed by a group of terrorists lead by a woman called Lilaena De'Ville. She was apprehended after the incident but managed to escape and flee Coruscant. Inside this room is an, unwilling associate of sorts, the leader of the Black Sun Syndicate. She likely has her filthy little claws into all the illegal transports on and off Coruscant so the chances of her knowing what ship and where the terrorists fled to are high. If she doesn't, she probably knows someone who does."

The eight Inquisitor soldiers bowed their heads and slammed their fists against their chests in salute with Tears approach.

"What is that?" The Grand Inquisitor gestured to the Twi'lek who was leaning idly against a bulkhead.

"Reeouurraa's body guard sir."

Tear sneered.

**Note Continued in http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthr...356#post288356 ( The Devils in the details At POST #7. ) **

[Baralai Lotus]

Baralai floated next to Naberius, silently watching as they floated easily toward the Star Destroyer. He was concentrating, trying to get ready to sneak past more than a small cities worth of Storm Troopers and guards. It wasn’t going to be simple, but luckily enough, Baralai had spent enough time in the shadows to have become familiar with them.

The ship was being tugged gently into the dock, and as the ship crossed the threshold of the dock, both Baralai and Naberius sank to the floor. Baralai pulled the force underneath him, cushioning his fall and allowing him to sink gently to the ground. There was no noise, which was what Baralai needed, since the Storm Troopers were most likely right outside the ship.

He walked softly over to the docking door of the ship and hid himself behind a few crates that had been tossed around in the battle. It allowed him enough cover to stay out of sight from the guards. As for Naberius, it was his job to keep himself hidden. Baralai was on a mission, and as far as he was concerned, nothing would stop him. Naberius had some form of knowledge and would not share it with Baralai until this task was complete, and so, it would be completed flawlessly.

The soft hiss of the docking bay door could be heard echoing within the tiny vessel, and then the muffled voices of Storm Troopers. Baralai reached out and grabbed the energy of the Force, tearing and pulling at it, making it form exactly as he wanted. The familiar cold of Force energy rolled over Baralai, allowing him to obfuscate from the sight of the Storm Troopers long enough to get around them.

“Search the ship men; we know that something is on there alive. Find out what it is and get it out of the ship, we’re not sure if it’s hostile or not.”

The heavy clang of boots coming up the docking ramp came closer and closer, and Baralai watched as the Troopers came from below and into the ship.

“Only three?” Baralai thought as he watched them begin to search the ship, starting to overturn crates and boxes in an attempt to find whoever was onboard. Baralai was unsure where Naberius had vanished too, but it was none of his concern anymore, and he turned, heading down the ramp of the ship quietly, still obfuscated from the eyes of his enemies.

Baralai was quite visible, almost out in the open, but by wielding and shaping the Force, he had hidden himself from the mind’s eye of the Storm Troopers. They were already weak willed and weak minded, so it wasn’t a difficult trick to pull off, and as long as he could remain out of the direct sight of the Storm Troopers long enough to find a way to the bridge, he was sure he could make it.

Baralai headed out of the docking bay, sticking close to the walls and dark corners that were so very rare in a well lit Star Destroyer. Baralai had never been on a Star Destroyer before, but he knew a little bit about them from having read about them. The engines and all power generators were located near the rear of the ship, the soldier’s quarters and mess halls were in the top left, followed by the prison cells in the bottom left, with the bridge located up in the right hand corner of the ship, near the very top.

If Baralai was correct, that would make the docking bay near the bottom center of the ship. There would be no need for Storm Troopers to be roaming too far away from the docking bay, and that meant there should be a way up to the bridge via an elevator somewhere nearby.

Baralai stood on the side of the tiny ship the Troopers had been searching and waited for them to leave. There was no one else in the docking bay, not any other ships or Storm Troopers. The Star Destroyer must have been floating through space the past few days, most likely on patrol, making sure that suspicious ships and smugglers didn’t make it into the Empire’s space without them knowing and getting their own cut of the profits.

It didn’t matter who you were, Sith or Jedi, smuggler or commoner, if you had something that the Empire could take from you, they would. It didn’t always have to be credits either; Baralai had learned that when the Inquisitoriate had taken his eye, but his pride had healed from the bruises and beatings it had received.

“No troopers in sight,” Baralai thought as he turned the corner and headed off for the hallway of the Star Destroyer. The hallway was empty, just as Baralai had expected it to be. He strode down the hallway, keeping his eyes and ears open for any sights or sounds. His connection to the Force was open, so if another Force user came too close, he would feel the wave of energy caress his skin. He’d have time to prepare.

However, it appeared there was nothing more than soldiers and officers on board. With the Inquisitoriate it was very rare that any Force sensitive could find his way among the ranks of normal soldiers and officers. Baralai could see a turn coming at the end of the hallway, and as he approached it, he heard the calls of several soldiers. Each talking with one another as they hurried down the hallway.

“They haven’t found anything on the ship in the docking bay. However, we detected signs of life on the ship. Get in there and make sure that nothing gets in or out of that docking bay.”

There were a few grunts of acknowledgement among the soldiers that trudged along behind their leader. Baralai saw a door leading into a room behind him, and as he waved his hand the door opened silently. Baralai slipped in the door and waited for the soldiers as they passed by. When their voices became unnoticeable, Baralai slipped back out and continued down the hallway.

The hallway seemed to stretch forever, the ship’s hull rattling with the pressure of space pushing down upon it. The cool grip of the Force had rolled its way over Baralai and was beginning to push down on him. It had been a while since he had used the Force this long, and it was starting to show. His breathing became slightly heavier, his will waned slightly, and his eyes became heavy.

“No!” He thought, “I cannot show weakness!” The living energy was trying to tear at his body, but there was nothing that would stop him now. He could see the elevator shaft at the end of the hallway. The Force bore down on him, biting back for all the years that Baralai had used it to twist life and force death upon others. He had bent the very life force to his will, and now, the Force was fighting back, and fighting back hard.

Baralai struggled to reach the elevator doors, and he waved his hand, opening the doors with ease. As soon as the elevator doors had shut, Baralai lifted the obfuscation from his body, and when the Force energy left, his body lightened, and he felt the weight on his chest lift off. It was as if the Force had been strangling him, as if it had turned his own dark energies against him.

As the elevator rode silently to the bridge, Baralai prepared himself. He placed his hand on the hilt of his whip, feeling the familiar steel under his fingertips. A smile stretched across his face as the elevator dinged, signaling it had reached the bridge.

“What the. . .?” some of the voices in the bridge echoed off each other, and the doors slid open.

The figure standing in the doorway was smiling, his hand inside of his coat. He was silent, and his face was hidden behind his hair, which fell messily against his face.

“Who the devil are you?” The man who stepped forward wore an officer’s uniform, signaling he was the Commander of the vessel stepped forward, signaling for some of the troopers to surround him. Six troopers came forth, standing in front of the Commander, and the man stood silent.

“I demand you put your hands up and lay on the floor. You have three seconds to comply.” Still he stood, silent and waiting.

The clock on the commander’s console clicked three times, and the silence inside of the room was palpable. A word was screamed, and weapons clicked, along with the hiss of a weapon being ignited. A flash of red light was splashed against the wall, waving and ebbing in and out of the shadows that danced across the walls. The figures fell against the wall as white helmets rolled to the feet of the crew managing the ship.

Baralai stepped forward and disengaged his whip, and threw the chain out wrapping it around the body of the Commander. Another click, and pieces, gore and blood splashed down onto the floor. Where a man had once stood, proud and in uniform, there was now a mass of flesh and blood, pieced and cubed in a pile on the floor.

The Crew was in shock, unaware of what to do.

“You all will do as I say, or you shall meet the same fate.” Baralai projected his voice into the minds of the crew, tapping into their thoughts and grabbing hold, allowing him to make sure they did exactly as he said.
“Now then, there is a Trandoshan in the ship in the docking bay. Call a group of two soldiers and let them know he is to be escorted to the bridge elevator, and then to be left to come up to the bridge. Tell them the commander demands it. As of now, I am in control of this ship, and you do nothing without my say so. Understand?”

There were a few silent nods as the drones spun back around and began work on their duties, calling up the guards to bring the Trandoshan to the bridge. Baralai didn’t know what Naberius had wanted with this ship, but it had been taken, and Baralai had completed his mission.

He assumed the seat the Commander had once sat in, sitting at the helm of the ship. He sat, his eye gazing out the windows of the ship into the emptiness of space. This was how a God sat, accomplished and in power. It was a feeling Baralai could easily appreciate, and as they continued on into space, he raised his head and smiled, the silver Ouroboros on his eye patch glinted in the overhead light, as he gently slid the pile of gore and mess to the left out of his sight.

“Such a waste of a perfect specimen.”

[Naberius]

"Unnecessary." A voice like cracking glass bellowed from behind Baralai, who managed to turn, just in time to see the monstrous figure take shape from the corner of his eye. In the time it took Baralai to twist his spine and plant the tip of his boot to the floor for leverage, allowing him to turn all the way around, the monster was already on him. Towering close to the ceiling Naberius bowed low to stare dreadfully into the one good eye Baralai had.

His maw widened with the dull crack of his jaw bones grinding and before he spoke the smell of rotted flesh wafted disgustingly into Baralai's face. "Sleep now Ouroboros and your vengeance will be realized when you wake. My masters will make sure of it."

From beneath the creatures cloaked form he produced a gloved claw. Sitting on top, like a life raft upon an ocean of black leather, was a small red pill.

"Take it." The tone of the dark words gave no reason for trust nor did the creatures demeanor hint to the illusion of safety. It was very possible, and the thought had occured to Baralai, that he was being used as a disposable assassin by these "Gemellae". But as Baralai Lotus stared at the tiny red pill, tossing an accusatory glance into the empty eyes of Naberius, he found a surge of defiance roll up from his stomach. He was a Sith and no pill would be his destruction and any fear he harbored at the unknown would not be his controller. The Sith snatched the pill to toss it fearlessly down his gullet, no hesitation, no questions asked. He had experienced horrors already at the hands of his enemies. What more could they do to him?

It only took a moment and the world began to warp around the student of Sith. Baralai attempted to stand as the haze over took him. His knees wobbling weakly in rejection to his motives but regardless he pressed on toward the elevator doors. Leaning against the wall he gave the console a smack with his elbow recalling the elevator to the bridge level. The lift never made it in time as Baralai found himself sliding limply down the wall, his vision beginning to tunnel and cloud.

"Well? Come now snake man we musn't keep them waiiiitin..." Baralai's voice took on the tone of a drunk near the end of his intoxicated journey. He wasn't sure but he could swear the reptile was smiling as he stared down upon him. It was the last thing he remembered seeing.