A Detour and Descent (Lilaena De'Ville)

This shining city built of gold, a far cry from innocence,
There's more than meets the eye round here, look to the waters of the deep.
A city of evil.
There sat a seven-headed beast, ten horns raised from his head.
Symbolic woman sits on his throne, but hatred strips her and leaves her naked.
The Beast and the Harlot.

She's a dwelling place for demons.
She's a cage for every unclean spirit,
every filthy bird and makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicating with our kings.
Fallen now is Babylon the Great.

The city dressed in jewels and gold, fine linen, myrrh and pearls.
Her plagues will come all at once as her mourners watch her burn.
Destroyed in an hour.
Merchants and captains of the world, sailors, navigators too.
Will weep and morn this loss with her sins piled to the sky,
The Beast and the Harlot.

She's a dwelling place for demons.
She's a cage for every unclean spirit,
every filthy bird and makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicating with our kings.
Fallen now is Babylon the Great.

The day has come for all us sinners.
If you're not a servant, you'll be struck to the ground.
Flee the burning, greedy city.
Lookin' back on her to see there's nothing around.

I don't believe in fairytales and no one wants to go to hell.
We've made the wrong decision and it's easy to see.
Now if you wanna serve above or be a king below with us,
You're welcome to the city where your future is set forever.

She's a dwelling place for demons.
She's a cage for every unclean spirit,
every filthy bird and makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicating with our kings.
Fallen now is Babylon the Great.

- "Beast and the Harlot" - Avenged Sevenfold

=======

The eyelids to his porcelain like face opened slowly as the inertial compensators were relieved and the planet's natural gravity was allowed to pervade the shuttle.

"Welcome to Onderon, we here at Universal Travels would like to thank you all for your patronage and hope you fly Universal again. Gate agents are awaiting outside to assist those passengers needing to make connecting departures. For those passengers continuing on Shuttle 489-1, we'd like to point out the bars and food court available within the docking complex. The shuttle needs to be refueled and prepped for our next departure and it could take several hours. Shuttle 489-1 will depart no later than 23:00 standard Onderon time. Again, thanks for flying Universal."

The affected voice of the attendant cut out, much to Grime's relief, and passengers began to exit the vessel. Many had already been standing and retrieving their luggage by the time he had awoken. He was in no such rush.

Hawkins was one of the few who were remaining passengers, taking the same shuttle out, into the Tapes sector. He figured his swordsmanship, even as rusty as it was could earn him a desirable amount of credits. And the Core area had begun to stink. Hawkins had picked up on a Hutt agent too near to his position for comfort and then something about the Black Sun and Hutt interests coinciding. The rumor mill just churned out too many bad calls for Hawkins to believe himself secure. He'd made a small profit in security jobs for mercs on Coruscant, still unsure of his physical limitations and capabilities. He feared that he would never get use to this metal cage he was trapped in.

The black armor encased his body entirely, all but from the base of the jaw and up. It appeared like sleek combat armor, molded to his body frame. Most who took note of it would think it so tight it was uncomfortable. In a way, Grime acknowledged them for being ironically correct. A black cape draped over his shoulders and a wide brimmed hat rested in his lap. His face was marble white, a synthetic recreation of what his organic face might've looked like at that point. And the dark, brown hair that went to his shoulders was no more real than anything else that could be seen.

In truth, what everyone else saw was Grime's exoskeleton. A mechanical frame that allowed his frail and scarred body to operate on a normal level in every day life. Of course, his perception of every day life could never be simple. A fallen lieutenant from the ranks of Guula the Hutt, his plot to coup the slug had almost come to fruition only for it all to end in sheer catastrophe. The consequences for treason were torture and then execution. He had been tortured but had survived the execution through only physical means. His body had barely survived while everything he owned, most of his men, and even his name had been liquidated.

Like some phoenix out of legend, Grime had it in mind to rise from the ashes though and conquer death. He stood stiffly from his seat by the window, a look of disgust barely apparent on his mechanical face. As he made his way past the exit dock, a flight attendant handed him his sword, a finely curved rapier that magnetically holstered itself to his back. He needed to get some air, being stuck in one confined place for too long only increased his irritation.

=======

Hawkins knocked back the rest of his drink and then dropped the container into the composer. It did little to appease him, the ever consuming void of hatred and bitterness were too engraved in him to even notice any sensations that might distract him from that void. Looking around briefly as he stood outside in a food court, he noticed the gates and watch towers everywhere.

Onderon supposedly had some good business available as well. Those mandalorians were supposedly quite the problem in this area. Dren, they'd been the scourge of the galaxy only a few millinea or so ago. Even after their time had come and gone, who wouldn't expect them to still be a problem. But Tapes was supposedly where swordsman could make their money in honor duels and arena matches.

But for now he wanted privacy, at least as much as he could manage. He made his way to the nearest bar and headed for the back and his own booth. A waitress made it half way to the booth before Grime gave her an obscene gesture with one hand and told her he was fine for the moment. He restlessly tapped on the glass table top, taking his hat off with the other hand and idly tossing it over the table and into the seat across from him. Restlessness was another annoying sensation he had to deal with. He blamed his exoskeleton for that, and he blamed them for that.

She was enjoying a cup of stimcaf in one of the bars in the small Iziz spaceport. Lilaena sipped slowly, and grimaced. Enjoying wasn't really the word she was looking for. Tolerating, perhaps.

A waitress passed her, clearly disgruntled, and Lilaena followed her path backwards with her eyes until she saw the man sitting in a booth, tossing his hat on the table in front of him. He was not in a good mood - though with the caf they served here, no one would blame him.

She sipped silently, watching him.

Hawkins leaned his head against the back of the booth, resting for a moment, his fingers flexing and relaxing in constant motion beneath the table. His chronometer four minutes ago had said it was 18:00. That meant he had four hours and fifty six minutes and counting until he was off this rock. And in that time, he concluded that he would be most miserable.

"Excuse me, sir."

This was no small prim waitress voice that he had previously dismissed. No, the voice belonged to a gruff sounding Sullustan. Gruff sounding, Grime thought. He found the Sullustans as a race rather sad looking and one of many races that got the short end of the stick when it really came to any advantages at life. Not to mention he was short. All of this compiling to a very unintimidating figure with a seemingly intimidating voice.

Grime sat up as casual as a slightly unfamiliar exoskeleton could in such a position. His bloodshot eyes glaring at the thing before him.

"... Can I help you?"

"Well, Sir, seeing how you told my server off and aren't interested in ordering anything, I can't have folk loitering around. So, either you order something or I'll have to ask you to leave."

Hawkins determined now that the voice was not as intimidating as he had discerned at first. The Sullustan's basic was just bad enough to come off like a neaderthal that had made it through grade school, that was all. He wished the deformed beast would just speak its own dirty language and spare Grime the butchery it made of basic.

"Gimme' a side of 'Get lost, twerp.' I'll buy something when I'm ready."

The Sullustan was a bit taken aback by Hawkins' comment but didn't seem to waver under it. Before it could respond though, Hawkins held up a hand to keep it from going any further.

"Just bring me some water."

Fuming, but appeased for the moment, the Sullustan stormed off and the waitress with him. It had caused a scene to a small degree and Hawkins had an unwanted audience. He glared across the room, watching heads and eyes turning back to their own business. All but one. Some lady. Hawkins turned his attention away but couldn't seem to notice that she was still more or less watching him.

=======

This was not Flora's night. Her first time on the job and she had already had to deal with a square customer. And get the manager involved to boot. This was, like, the worst way to start off. The manager had blamed her at first, thinking she had offended the customer in ignorance or just bad business. But after that little scene, he was so totally apologizing for that. But he was still gonna server the loser?

The Sullustan handed her a glass of iced water and walked back into the manager's office. Flora walked a few steps away, spit in the drink and then mixed the water around a bit. See if she was gonna take that much lip on her first night from some pretty boy. She stepped out into the cafe and headed towards the punk's table. She almost panicked as she realized he wasn't even sitting there anymore.

=======

Hawkins, hat in hand, approached the table where the woman was sitting. He raised his opposite hand in a way of greeting and to get her attention, which he was frustratingly sure he already had.

"Do I know you?"

Not the best pick up line he had ever used, but then again he was not really aiming for that. Guula, like the rest of the slugs, had people who slept in the cracks that people like Grime slipped through. With so many other witnesses, this would be a fairly secure place to confront a would-be assassin. The increasingly irritating notion was that he was just making monsters out of shadows. Why not play it safe though? His luck couldn't get any worse than it already had.

She eyed him over her cup of caf, and took another sip. "No, I don't think you do." LIlaena looked around the room, and saw the flustered waitress holding a glass of water. "Lonely at your table?"

He seemed artificial, but was certainly not a droid. An exoskeleton of some kind was supporting artifical skin. Better work could be had, if you had the credits. He, apparently, preferred the exoskeleton. Or was poor. Lilaena rubbed her forehead with her left hand, fingers feeling the scar that ran vertically across her face.

Hawkins stiffly followed her gaze back to his table and noted the waitress, wasting time by his deserted table with a glass of water. He sighed with a trace of disgust and exasperation when she spotted him and started in his direction.

"Here you go."

She placed the drink down at the woman's table, assuming that Grime was going already going to sit there. One of his eyebrows arched in question towards the already departed waitress before he turned back to the woman he obviously didn't know. He deciphered the drink on the table as an unwarranted invitation and took a seat across from her. His once blue eyes, now dulled through a haze of bloodshot awareness, glanced over her for a moment.

=======

"Censored, I'm your number one girl, right?"

"Only because of your eyes, Lady."

Soft laughter was heard in response.

"My eyes? What about them?"

"I've never seen eyes so green. They make up for all your other faults, so be thankful."

Censored snickered at his own joke. But she was already asleep.

=======

"This planet seems about as lonely... Where'd you come by a scar like that?"

She sipped her caf, then put it down slowly, looking at him with her green eyes. He looked like he'd been through hell.

"Where'd you come by that frame you're wearing?" She raised an eyebrow.

His fingers dug into the brim of his hat slightly beneath the table as she asked the question. He wanted to snarl a response that he had asked first but he checked himself, albeit slowly. His other hand raised to touch the left side of his artificial face almost unconciously. She made it sound like he was just wearing a suit, something he could take off at will or leisure. Not the wretched prison that it really was, his own face a taunting reminder of just how close to the sun he had been and just how badly it had burned him.

=======

Blood dripped freely as Censored gasped for air, anything to keep himself from sliding into shock and out of his own control. He almost coughed up blood to laugh at that ironic thought. Control. He was in control of nothing. Absolutely nothing. But for passing out.
They wanted him out so they could really get to work. He knew the procedure, the victim passes out, they carve off large slabs of skin, nail it to the wall in front of the victim, and then wake them up with high caliber stimulants. He refused to pass out though. They'd already gone through portions of his arm. The muscles twitched freely in response to nearly incomprehensible pain.
One of the 'surgeons' turned to the other and spoke casually.

"Let's not do the routine thing, this time, Dyllan. Let's photocopy murals or something on the 'canvas'."

The other snorted in response, muttering something in some dirty language Censored couldn't understand.

"That's a great idea, Dyllan. We'll put up the pictures of what we did to his woman. He surely die comfortable knowing how well she went out. That was some party-"

Censored couldn't understand the next part as it was hard to hear over his own screams as the surgeons went back to work.

=======

Nevermind checking himself, he was tired and it was like this woman was a perfect target to show just how much Grime was willing to throw at the universe. Especially if she was one of Guula's agents. That devouring abyss within him felt as if it was reaching from its depths to draw him in. In fact, it was screaming like a wicked gale in the back of his mind. He hadn't noticed until he had decided to focus it on her.

"I asked you first, wastoid."

So it was going to be like that, was it? The depths of anger she'd aroused in the stranger were impressive. Her eyes narrowed, "A bounty hunter did this. He failed to take me down."

She shrugged, "And I don't really care where you got the suit. You are, however, sitting at my table." It had occurred to her that this stranger might also be a bounty hunter, and she didn't really want to be nice to him if that were the case. Goading him was fun, anyway. "Although, you should talk to your tailor. You look like dren."

He grabbed his glass, trying to hold back the fist he wanted to make so badly. Images of his metal encased fist colliding with her face flashed through his mind, screaming that she should tell her doctor to forget covering the scar up, she had more immediate issues to handle like no teeth and shattered nose. Who would look more like dren then? The glass creaked on the edge of breaking in his grip before he relaxed somewhat.
Failed to take her down... How likely was that? But then again, women were often the most underestimated assets in the business. He refused to drop his guard to their bickering. She might just be looking for the chink in his armor. The issue concerning her identity and his ignorance therein wasn't helping at all.

"You're one to talk. Did the doctor tell you there was nothing they could do about your face even after he noted the scar?"

That was a lie and he had to try to even play the insult out right.

=======

"... eyes so green..."

She tsked. "So angry."

Lilaena picked up her cup once more, sipping carefully. "The pie is good here, you should try some."

"I don't want pie."

His paranoia about this woman was about to hit critical mass. She wasn't being courteous, she was just trying to shift topics and his attention to keep him from focusing.

"Quit playing games, woman. Who are you?"

He was sure his artificial face was not showing anything of the wrath he intended to display but Grimes meant to embed his tone with as much hatred and frustration as he could. He would not be toyed with, even if she were not one of Guula's agents.

She blinked, but not because of his angry words. Like a picture with a hidden message that had suddenly snapped into focus, she knew. This angry individual was a Force adept. Completely untrained, it seemed, but with potential.

Lilaena sipped her caf. "I am the answer to your prayers."

The glass shattered in his exoskeleton's grip. Not being able to feel it only made it worse, providing no catharsis from the pain, only increasing his desire to see something destroyed. Water dripped off the black armor of his arm as he rested the now empty hand on the table.

"Which ones are you going to answer?"

His question was said with no lighter tone than before and he was sure that his curiousity was only to see how long he let her live. He was confident that his reflexes were just as much as they used to be and he could practically see the gaping wound he would make with his blade on her face to match that scar. All she had to do was drop Guula's name.

"Your prayers for revenge," she answered, calmly. With a twitch of her fingers the shattered pieces of glass were picked up and set into the middle of the table with the Force. No one else in the cafe had seen, only him, and she had his full attention.

His bloodshot eyes went slowly from the glass shards to her face.

=======

"How are you doing this?"

Three men stood between the holographic image of Censored and the Wanted Jedi Knight X'aafel. All three stood stone still, weapons all poised to brutally slay the adept where he stood. But they couldn't move, at all.

"I'm stopping them from making a big mistake. I will not support your crimes, even if you have helped hide me from the Empire."

Censored took a swag from his flask before putting it back in his pocket, wiping his mouth with his wrist and casually continuing the conversation.

"So I'm not big on the whole force thing, but I know you can read minds so I shouldn't have to explain myself. But seeing how this has turned sour, let me go ahead and do so. Your payment has been sufficient in turn for your protection. But now, I no longer need your credits X'aafel. I need your skills. Don't turn me down a second time."

The self righteous knight, like they all were, only gave Censored that serene look of compliance with everything in the universe but what the real people with power wanted. This is why they were going extinct. They weren't flexible. Censored sighed.

"Should I take this waste of time hesitation dren as a refusal then?"

"I assure you, Master Censored, you don't need me."

"So be it. Your contract of protection is hereby ended. Let me save you the trouble of letting the Empire be the first to sign your execution contract."

The hologram image of Censored cut out and the remotely triggered explosives on one of the henchman set off much to all of their dismay.

=======

Grime was currently rethinking his strategy. This woman was no joke and the only force adept he'd had contact with, he'd stabbed in the back with as little as contact as possible. The whole thing had seemed hokey and Hawkins had never had the time to pay attention to all the politics involved with the mess. His desire to wreak havoc at the immediate moment was no less appeased though, merely in check due to unestimable restrictions.

"Explain, Witch."

She reached across the table towards him, slowly, but stopped at the pile of glass and idly picked up a shard. "You have much anger inside you, and you burn for revenge. Against what, I don't know. But the vengence you seek is within your grasp because you," she looked straight into his reddened eyes, "have the same gift I do."

"I assure you, Master Censored, you don't need me."

=======

His hand shot out and wrapped around her fingers, the sound of the glass shard against his metal hand could be heard. His words stuttered through a mind clouded by imprisoned rage.

"A lot...of good... heh... that did me..."

If it felt any better to crush her hand and break her arm, he'd do it. Could she read minds through his metal face? Could even metal stop those kind of powers. His kind of powers? If she was even telling the truth.

"Why should I believe you?"

Her expression was steady, even as he squeezed her hand and cut her fingers on the shard of glass she was holding. Blood dripped onto the plastic tabletop from between their hands.

"Because it is true." Lilaena made no move to extricate her hand from his grip, regarding him as a frightened predator that would just as soon flee as attack. "Search your feelings. How else could you have survived, when lesser beings would have simply given up." She had no idea how he had come to live in his artifical exoskeleton - they were only used with the most traumatized of bodies in the most extreme situations. Most lesser injuries could be treated with artifical limbs, or transplants.

He let go, just as quick as he had reached for her. He had never seen anyone survive such a torture session as he had undergone. Never. He'd done far less to someone and they'd been out long before he considered himself finished. He felt like she had just thrown him off balance. In his seat, he felt as if he couldn't stand or walk; the pain and irritation from his body and the exoskeleton nagging at him.

"So what then? I have IT. Didn't they kidnap kids to train them from their youth? Does it even matter by this point? What can you do for me?"

Exactly how was she going to answer his prayers?

Lilaena pulled her hand back to her side of the table as he released her, taking her eyes from his artificial face to examine the cut on her fingers. She dropped the bloodied shard of glass to the tabletop.

"Yes, they took babies from their families, so that they could be trained from the youngest possible age." There was a tinge of pride in her voice. She had been one such child, blessed with the training and shelter of the Jedi Temple, long ago. "But in these dark days, we work with what we have."

The Dark Jedi looked back at the man, who looked like a man trapped in a droid's body. "And we have you, and me. I can train you to use your gift."