Through the Eyes of a Snack

[Nathanial K'cansce]

OOC: Open, yes. But please do PM me before joining in. I have a purpose for this thing. Thank ya. Oh, and a disclaimer: this is purely based on how Snack saw everything, and based on his observations, his thoughts on everything.


IC:


*It was gone. It was all gone. And he could not do a thing about it. He had sat upon his high horse, a top the masses, on his luxurious council chair, and watched it as it crumbled before him. Never made a move to pick up the pieces, nor to stop them from falling. He saw it way before it started its chain reaction, yet still he did nothing. And now it was gone. And most of those he knew and considered allies where gone with it....

The past few months had been hell. He returned to the Sith Empire's homestead after his hard fought battle against a new series of war droids.. a Reploid... one that had a very familiar presence controlling it. The man had healed up quite nicely after a few days in the bacta tank and a day of meditation and rest. The days off were short lived, though. Upon returning to his duties of the Council, all hell broke lose. First was the departure of the Lupine Sith Lord, Vega Van Derveld, to the Dark Jedi sect of the Black Hand. Dissent grew immediately as those who were close to the Van Derveld family stood their ground, trying to defend the former Sith Lord and their friend and mentor from those who had banished him upon here the treachery. Lana Westbrooke, after a few months of being missing in action, came back with none other than Vega, her former lover, and told a tale of how she had no idea who she was, or what she wanted in life, but knew that the Sith Empire was not her home anymore. That was all fine, but the fact that Vega had come with her wrote out treachery and dissent loud and clearly. At least to those who had strong feelings on the matter.

Snack didn’t share those strong emotions. He meant to ask her questions then and there, but she was shunned and escorted out before he could mutter a solitary syllable. However, after the mighty fall of the Sith Empire, Lord Snack did find out where she was living and visited her, asking his questions that probably would have saved a lot of people some headaches and maybe.. Just maybe even the Empire.

But nothing could have saved the Empire. Not after what happened next. The Council booted two long standing members from their ranks: Sith Knight Sieken Kastra and Sith Warrior Blade Ice. And not even a day or so later, Sith Knight Even Siren upped and left due to how her friends, Lana and Vega, were treated when they ‘were kicked out’. Other members were seeing this, and began losing faith in the Council. Everything we (the Council) had said were seen as lies, and everything we did was seen as double crossing it’s own members.

War broke out.

One Snack did not want a part of. He left Montu Cudro to visit Lana before it all started, and then headed for his home world of Cayss. A place where he could go and stay, think about his own life and the course of the Force within the universe. A place where he could leave the Empire behind. A place where he could go an die.*

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*The Cayssian midmorning sky was bright blue and void of clouds. The distant star of Cahl IV, beat down its rays of light onto Cayss's atmosphere, heating the small sized planet below. It was a beautiful day, a tad on the hot side, but other than that the day was off to a great start.

Snack was not included in this day, however. He was anything but bright and sun-shiny. Inside his three story house was gloomy and rainy, with a Low center of rotation around Snack's personal quarters. His bed room.

In his hand was a ball, about the same size and weight of a baseball. The Dark Lord looked it over, rotating it in his hand until it came back to its starting point. The object was hard... hard enough to knock someone out if it struck them in the head. Hard enough to break bones if struck in the arms or chest. If struck with it in the back of the neck, it could kill. Yet, on it's own, it was a harmless round thing.

Laying on his back in his bed, he began tossing it up in the air, and then catching it as it came back down towards his face. There was not much for the once busy ex-Council member to do, and playing catch with himself was more than enough entertainment to surpass his boredom. But it got boring day in and day out. Sulking in his room, tossing the ball in the air and catching it before he breaks his nose. It left much time for his mind to wander around, which was never a good thing. And considering what it always ended up producing...

It was always the same thing. At least lately. A quiet voice in his head telling him, that this was the right thing to do. That leaving before the mud flew was the right step. Soothing his worries that he turned his back on yet another family.

Too many times he had been left behind, walked out on, and left who he considered his family. And here this tiny voice was telling him it was all right. That the will of the Force was behind this.. that this was his destiny.

JUST SHUT UP!!

It felt so wrong. He vowed allegiance and loyalty to the Empire. And that took him far. He also believed himself to be an honorable man.. and one who never considered himself a Sith. So this should have been the right move. Maybe it was, but there was no honor in what Snack had done. He left his loyalties, and shot his own words to nothingness when he left. It was wrong, so why was something trying to tell him it was right? It was not who Snack was as a person...*

Gah!

*He tossed the ball once more into the air, sat up, and caught it firmly in his right hand. He looked at it once more, drew his arm back and threw it as hard and as fast as he could, aimed for the wall. The ball hit, making a sickening cracking sound as it splintered the wall. It passed through, pushing wood chips out of its way in all directions, finally dropping in the center of the floor in the next room.

This was too much. He needed his saber, and needed it now.*

[Ilyarna]

"Crikey!"

An inch to the left and the former dancer would have had a ball sized hole in the middle of her head.

Thats it!

She had been keeping her distance from her new owner for quite some time now. His mood was angry and brooding and Ilyarna was quite terrified he may just kill her to lift his spirits.

It had been so hard to make herself avoid him and she had been forced to watch him from a distance. Hiding behind cupboards (the big ones) and peeking around corners. He was so beautiful..even when he was mad. She wished she could hug him and squeeze him and cuddle all the bitterness out of him.

She may as well set her sights on becoming the newest Sith Mastermind of all the Universe as that happening.

Still - Ilyarna was an eternal optimist and could never really leave off hoping and wishing for long.

Picking up the ball that had rolled to a stop against the far wall, she walked over and tapped lightly on Snack's door as she softly let herself in.

"Did you loose this Master Snack?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Lose? No. Missed my mark? Yes.

*He answered, barely catching the sight of his slave. Not that he could miss her. She took up more than what his vision could handle when he did look at her. Though he really did try not to. It was bad enough being in a cranky mood all the time, being sick would only worsen his crankiness.

Ilyarna did have her uses though. She kept the house near spotless, and cooked up many tasteful dishes. That, and she provided someone to talk to and to rant to. No, he would never kill her, but Lord Snack had fun making her think he would. Regrettably, he glanced over at her direction and all of her pros turned to cons once more. He would have to pay Hera a visit for dumping this load on him, whether it be in this life or the afterlife.

Groaning, Snack shook his head and sat up. He reached for the metallic cylindrical hilt on his dresser close to his bed and picked it up. Smirking, he thumbed the power switch, watching the teal blade elongate. Rotating his wrist causing the blade to turn from vertical to horizontal to vertical again, his smirk widened. Finally, he looked back up to Ilyarna, his eyes filled with evil intentions.*

Good bye.

[Ilyarna]

Her eyes widened to saucers in fear as Snack twirled the blade and she inched gingerly to the edge of the bedend hoping it to offer some form of protection.

"I, I was just wondering if you were...er..hungry perhaps? I can make you some flat-cakes if you like."

He hadnt thrown the dagger yet, so she took courage.

"I'll top them with some Yavin boysenberry syrup - its delicious."


He glared at her.

"Im worried about you, Master. You...You look too thin to me."

And he did too. Most the humans in this galaxy were grossly underweight to her mind and she wondered how they lived so long in such skinny bodies.

She had come into DarthSnacks service some time ago - given over to be judged and punished by him as he saw fit by her former mistress Hera DrenKast. Ilyarna has pickpocketed Snacks wallet and as proved to be most forticious, he hadnt killed her outright. She had been caught because she was foolish enough to try spend his TSE MasterCard in the same place as she stole it. A dumb mistake. As it turned out it was the best mistake Ilyarna had ever made.

She was never more happier. Despite the living in constant fear and trepidation of a horribly cruel death at the hand of Snack. Aside from that - life was bliss.

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*All Snack could do was stare at her, his head sort of kinked, with a "what the hell have you been smoking?" look. Was she trying to butter him up to spare her life? No need, really. Her life was not the one in danger. His was. And it had nothing to do with him being 'too skinny'. Or at least what someone of her stature thought of as too skinny. He thought himself just fine.*

A last meal before an ultimate doom? Trust me -- You don't need one.

And neither do I...

*Sure there were better ways to take one's life or have it be taken from him. Ways of the warrior slain by another. Being shot by some lucky hotshot. But at least this way, it can be said that no one but Snack could kill himself. True power.

He twirled his saber again, straightening his face as seriousness and acceptance overcame it. His saber twirling stopped, and he positioned the teal beam of plasma of his weapon close to his neck.*

Tell Hera to give Ogre a message from me: "I'm sorry I was a failure."

*With those being his last words, Snack closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath air.*

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Whispers. Everything whispered; and not just those sentient beings that were capable of voicing these dormant thoughts. The Force was contained in all existing creatures. And all that lived, whispered.

These murmurs were not made consciously, as a relatively small proportion of those tainted by humanity were sensitive to this omnipresent power. No; very few indeed were cursed with the ability to hear. To be alert to every heartbeat - not physical, but of the inner core. To be compelled to listen. To be deafened.

As is the way of all words hushed and secreted, the whispers gradually elevate into a persistent itch, constantly grinding away at your own judgment until the two can no longer be discerned. It is then that one becomes so influenced that he grows curious as to what these enduring rumors actually speak of.

Taja was one such individual who heard. Not only that, but she listened. She heeded the summons, for their calls now were ones many around her had already answered.

The call for home.

Except, she no longer knew where this was; her Master resided on the planet of Meras with her family - something which Taja lacked. Then there were her siblings of the Hand, on their world of Vjun. Neither could, however, satiate that hunger she had recently begun to feel. The craving to discover her ancestry.

And what better place to start than Cayss? Its location was not information publicly available, but she was no foreigner to this world. This small, uncharted planet had at one time been closely associated with Taja's home planet of Tvangeste. That is, until the Alliance disbanded.

Tvangeste had separated in order to evade a possible Sith invasion, opting instead to concede to their wishes voluntarily. This ended its close ties with Cayss, but many of her relations chose to remain behind. It was for this reason, to trace back her lineage, that Taja had come here.

Having secured her ship at a nearby dock, the Dark Jedi briskly paced through the streets in a residential area, eerily silent even at this hour.

[Jared Mriad]

A Failure? A voice, masculine, spoke in Snacks' mind followed by a scoffing laugh. Outside, on the windowpane, a cat sat with glowing green eyes. One would wonder how one had gotten up there.


Belive me, Master. You are far from such, The cat spoke again, but in a bar within the small village. A cloaked figure spoke, although no words came forth from it's mouth. Only distinquishing feature shown by the darkness of the cloak was a tattoo on the side of it's face. That of a dragon.

Put the saber down, before you end up dropping it on yourself...

[Ilyarna]

Rushing forward in blind fear and panick, Ilyarna scooped Snack forward into a huge embrace - oblivious to how close the lightsaber came to slicing off her meaty arm. The dancer enveloped the Sith in her generous folds of flesh and squeezed him to her chest.

"Noooo!"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

*The words of his apprentice were all but too late. Though distracting and delaying the inevitable, the deed was still going to get done. His eyes shot a glare towards the cat sitting out on the windowpane.

That's what stopped him. With eyes diverted, Snack's overly buoyant slave waddled as fast as she could and embraced the Dark Lord in a hug. The shock had caused Snack to accidently thumb the power switch of his saber, which now was on the floor next to his feet.*

For the love of all things decent kill me now!

*He reached out and grabbed hold of the Force, sending it ramming into the ex-dancer. She flew back a foot or two, landing on her plump back side shaking the house. Any normal being would have flown into the wall across the room.. but yeah. Ilyarna was definitely not normal.

Quick to stand, Snack shot another glare towards the cat that sat there, quietly licking it's paw. He threw his left hand out towards the window, grasping more control over the elemental sides of the Force. In a blink of an eye, the fur along the cat's back erupted into flames. It first started in the middle of the back, where the spark began and triggered the other molecules into created more sparks, causing the fire.

Snack then dropped to his knees, his fit of rage passing by.*

Why won't you just let me die...

[Jared Mriad]

As the overly large slave embraced Snack, Jared coughed on his whiskey, OH geeze, the horror! he thought as the cat turned it's gaze to the two then returned to licking it's paw.

Jared's connection with the cat suddenly was shredded as it's will power overdominated Jared's little control trick as it's hair burst into flames and caused it to jump strieght up into the air in surprise and then jumped to it's death from the windowseal.

Shrugging, and finishing off the drink in one last gulp. The Ex-Empire Warrior stood from his seat and began to head for the door when the bartender halted him.

"Hey' Buddy, You fergot' to pay fer' your drinks," he spoke, putting a hand out and hoping to receive the payment. Jared looked down at the hand and removed a wrapped package from within the arm folds of the black robe. Placing the package in the bartender's hand and then walking off, Jared grinned under the hood as the bartender screamed aloud and dropped the package before backing away horrified.

The Sith had handed the bartender a burnt heart wrapped in pastic which was going to be a 'Hello' present for a certain Jedi, but nevermind that for this moment.

The house wouldn't be hard to find, Jared knew the route already (save for a few turns and jumps which the cat could fit into) plus the signature of his Master radiated quite loudly after the feline's demise.

The cloaked cannibal took left and rights, ran then walked or jumped rooftops if need be to traverse the Village until he came within seeing distance of the outskirts of town. Leaping down onto the streets below without a sound, he came up to a two story manor with a charred and still burning remains of a feline roasting on the corner.

Staying quiet, Jared just waited.

[Ilyarna]

Seeing the cat burst into flames, hearing its frightful yeowlings of agony, together with the rough toss received from Snack, Ilyarna sat where she landed and began to cry. Her tears streamed down her chubby cheeks and her voice lifted in a woeful wail of terror and hurt.

She was frightened and she couldnt understand all that was happening. There was so much she didnt know about her Master. If only he would let her help.

The thought birthed a new wave of unhappy sobs.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

--------Several Weeks Earlier------------


The dust had setteled, and all was said and done. Where the Sith Empire's Headquaters had once stood was now lined with fallen rocks, and peices of wood and metal. Ruins. Not a soul left here, yet there were corpses. Dozens of them... most of which were hired mercanaries.

As the sun began to rise, the environment was completely still, and silent... except for the shifting of stone. There was a loud grinding noise, as a pile of rubble moved, and colapsed in every direction but inward.... revealing a survivor. The man breathed heavily, and stood as best he could. His leg was broken, shattered in several places. He parked himself on a particularly large stone, and looked around. In his gaze, he began to think to himself...

Those bastards.... what have you done?!?!?

The man stood again, and located where the medbay had once been. Using what he could find, he made a table, and found quite a few painkillers. He practicly poured the whole bottle of pills down his throat, and layed down. His eyelids grew heavy, and he slept. While he slept, he changed. His leg healed, or seemed to, and the pain went away. He also dreamed.... or were they memories? They came in fragments, broken shards.

--------------------------
~"We're being attacked! Hundreds of them!"

"Help! ,Tempi-"

There was death, nothing but it. Mercanaries, hired by usurpers who lingered in the Empire. Sleepers who waited untill somthing happened. Worthless.~
-------------------------

Without warning, this man awoke again. He didn't think it possible, espically with all the pills he had just taken, but his hate wouldn't let him die. His hate for the men and women who had stabbed the Empire in the back. The first people they struck were the leaders, then worked their way down. Systematic killers, had this in the works for years.

He had a splitting headache, it felt like he had been burried alive, beneath tons of dirt and stone. It wasn't all that far off.

The knight wandered off, able to walk again by this time, to a secluded place, where he could be alone.... To his ship. Morphling was meraculiously intact still, which baffeled him to no end. He climbed into the cockpit, and after hours of sorrow and emotional venting, he finally decided it was time to stop brooding over the past, and start avenging it.


---A Week Passes. Killing Spree Takes Place, and passes.---


Somehow, Tempist found himself on Cayss, with his ship wrecked. Amazing what will happen when someone steals the landing equipment when in flight.

He began to wonder, in what looked to be a township. There were a few familiar force signatures here, but he didn't aknowlage any of them. They weren't important to him right now, not who he was looking for, not who he thinks needs to be punished. He hadn't even realized who he now stood face to face to, an old aquaintance. At one point, he had called her an alie, perhaps even a 'friend'. He kept his formality short, and to the point.

"......hello Taja."

[imported_Taja Loraan]

Taja swiveled around on her heels at the call of her name, and her hazel eyes instantly widened in recognition of the man that stood before her. Something comparable to gladness wavered across her unfeeling gaze and the corners of her lips faintly curled upward.

"Tempist!"

The expression was quenched as immediately as it had formed; his tone of voice ensured that. She had not seen him since before her public denunciation of the Sith ways, not even during her brief visit to the Empire with the Dark Lord Vega - shortly before its fall. And yet, from the Knight's mannerisms now, it was obvious that his sentiments toward her reflected those of her former peers upon her resignation.

Nevertheless, Taja harbored no personal qualms against her once comrade. She had been heading for the town library to search for her details of her genealogy, but more than welcomed the interruption. Whether or not this feeling would be returned was yet to be seen.

"So what brings you here?"

She asked this cautiously; Tempist had no reasons of his own to employ violence, but many members of the disbanded Empire were willing to blame even their one-time associates for the sake of compensating for personal losses.

[Tempist the Uncaring]

The Empire had been everything to Tempist, it was the one thing he had like a family. Taja had once been part of his family, but left with little animosity, and he had nothing against her personally. The fact that he had found her here was a fantastic coincidence, even if simply in the matter of seeing someone he knew and didn't hate, still living. A rare moment where he could show a small smile.

"A few scores to settle, a few wrongs that must be set right. And you?"

[Nathanial K'cansce]

Oh suck it up...

*He glanced twice over at Ilyarna, watching her sob out loud. Snack hated seeing anyone cry. Sure, it was a valid expression of emotions, but it was not the warriors's way. And Snack was a warrior.

Yet Ilyarna was not. Shaking his head in his own self-pity, the Dark Lord walked over and held out an open hand. He helped the plump servant up. Why oh why did he have a heart? All of Ogre's training could not have killed what humane morals Snack still clung to. That is probably why he has never considered himself a Sith, and refuses to call himself one. And also why he had yet to master Force moves that other's his rank, and lower, have been able to grip and understand.*

I'm sorry...

*It was all he could say to her.*

...I've just have had a lot on my mind.. and at times the Darkness is so overpowering that I lose control over most all of my will...

And I just don't know what to do anymore.

*His eyes were glossed over and lost in thought, much like a young boy's would be after hearing why the sky is blue. He felt Jared's distinct presence come nearer, but it did nothing to draw the Lord's mind from where it was... er.. not was.*

[Ilyarna]

For a frightful moment Snack though Ilyarna would embrace him again, but the large dancer restrained herself, and the warrior was spared.

Her lower lip was still quivering, but the unexpected kindness of her Master went a long way to restoring her happy state of mind.

"Maybe you should talk to your teacher, or leader person."

Ilyarna hadnt a clue about master/apprentice thing. She had no interest in such things and never tried to even understand them. But she had witts enough to know Snack was coming to the end of his rope and and she wanted desperately to help him somehow.

Maybe if she told him she loved him?? No, no - that would just make him toss her to the wall again. Think, think.

"What about an old friend? That might help - get some advice or something."

She stood back a pace, trying to be not such a nuisance.

"Its not good to be on your own now."

[Nathanial K'cansce]

My Master?

*He shook his head.*

His opinion would be tainted...

*Snack paused, as if he were in thought.*

My Master and the Empire... had a falling out of sorts. Besides, I can't go to my Master with all of my problems. Part of learning is doing stuff and figuring stuff out on your own.

*But Ilyarna was right. Snack did need some form of guidance, though his Master could not help him. Maybe a close friend? All of his close friends were apart of the Empire. And Horus... well Horus would be intown. Though he was no where to be found.*

Maybe...

*The Dark Lord began to speak, then trailed off. All he had was this delusional thing that that it was a dancer. And his apprentices. Though the only one who seemed to have made it out of whatever had gone down was Jared.*

Maybe...

[Jared Mriad]

JAred sensed that his Master was abit... off.. or somthing. The door to the manor was locked tight, and sheer common sence bade him from unlocking it and entering univited. So, He just knocked.

Bam Bam Bam

[Ilyarna]

Ilyarna jumped at the sudden and unexpected banging on the door and a small frightened squeak slipped passed her lips.

Belatedly she drew a chubby hand to her mouth and her large eyes rolled towards her Master.