(ooc: Open to all.)

Silus leaned back in the pilots chair, as the small freighter moved through hyperspace. It was nothing special, just a later hyperdrive and two laser cannons on the front. The only thing he was left with once his 'family' were murdered.

He never knew who his real family was, and he made no efforts to try and find out. When he was found, barely out of the womb, left out to die. To be taken in, by those basterds. He was only fed because they were forced to, though fed was a word used a bit lightly. Fifteen years of anger, of being with them.

They believed themselves of noble blood, trying to live fit as royalty, though they were too lazy, or perhaps too stupid, to work for anything. No. Instead, they used Silus to...help make sure they got what they wanted. As soon as he had learned to walk, they sent him out to the streets. At first to beg. Then steal. And as he grew older, their jobs grew more complicated, their greed larger. Ironic, that everything that he had stolen for them, was stolen from them, and they were murdered in their sleep. He smiled at the thought.

He did not fit in. And he was guessing he never would. His hair was black, and his eyes a deep shade of blue. Though not unlike others. Except, he was different. And he was shunned for it. He could do things others couldn't, when he lost control of his emotions, he could...do things. Such as lift a rock in the air. Or a stick. Or a knife. With the fact that his ears were slightly pointed, this only helped fuel their belief that he was a demon. And so people avoided him. And that was how he liked it.

Though he hated the faces, their faces, whenever they saw him. Faces of terror, and of discust, whenever they saw him. And so he had learned to hide himself, use the shadows to his needs. But that never stopped those feelings, the loneliness. The anger at everyone for not accepting him.

"Will I always be alone?" He asked no one at all.

The ship exited hyperspace, in basically nowhere. Exactly how Silus wanted it. He stopped the ship, letting it float in space. He exited the pilot chair, and moved further down the ship, to his own small quarters. Somewhere he could think. He leaned his back against the Durasteel wall, closing his eyes.

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"Mommy, who's that?" A little girl said, tugging on the dress of the woman next to her, her other hand pointing towards a tall shadowy figure.

The women continued to stare in the other direction, "What is it now, Kaley?"

The figure began to move slowly toward them.

"Him mommy, who is he," but before the woman could answer, the girl began to run toward him.

The woman turned, shouting at the little girl, "Kaley? Kaley, stop! Stop now!" The woman caught up with the girl, who was staring up at the man.

When she saw the girl was okay, she stood up and stared at the man. "I'm sorry to bother you sir. I hope we didn't cause you any trouble," she sent a nasty look at her daughter, then looked back at the man, a fake smile on her face. She offered out her hand to him, "Amelia. The name is Amelia Kipkins."

"I know," the man said. But instead of outstretching his hand in the greeting, he removed a blaster pistol.

"I apologize. Goodbye, Mrs. Kipkins."

The woman made as if to scream, but fell to the ground, a hole burned in her chest. Her daughter turned, tears running down her face.

"Mommy? Mommy! Wake up mommy, wake up."

"She won't wake up. She never will again." the man spoke, and then was gone.
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His eyes opened. Another memory. A brief fragment of times past. He sighed. Another life on his hands.

… A troubled mind …

The thoughts trickled in, intruding upon his meditation.

past … a disturbed past …

His eyes opened slowly, the light filtering onto the grey iris, causing his pupils to dilate slightly with the dimmed luminosity. Eyes heavily lidded, the young man listened.

… pain … troubled past … painful past …

They was so like his own, these emotions. So … similar, but so different.

Slowly removing himself from his meditation, the man stood smoothly. Walking forward with carefully measured steps, his grey robe hanging about him, he moved out of the dimly lit, quiet room …


… and into the hustle and bustle of the everyday happenings aboard a starship. Men scurried about, their spit shined shoes clacking on the droid-polished deck, their impeccable uniforms straight and tight.

The Executor-Class Star Destroyer Celestial-Corruptor was preparing to enter hyperspace after a two month stay in orbit about Clak’dor.

Moving to the hangar bay with an un-hurried pace, the grey-cloaked man nodded to those he knew as he passed them, and to those he didn’t know he ignored.

“I require the use of the Orion.” He said to the ship-master.

“Master Tobal, we are about to enter hyperspace…”

“I require the use of the Orion” the man repeated, his voice gaining a slight edge. “For a few hours.”



It’s long, slim form exited the hanger bay of the Celestial Corruptor smoothly, with grace. Going into a long Jay curve, the ship seemed to find its direction, then suddenly … it vanished.

Inside the Orion the young Shadow Jedi once again neared a meditative state, as he allowed the force to guide his actions, and his direction.

He leaned back in his pilot chair, staring at the roof above him. He was fifteen when his adoptive family was murdered, and since then he has spent the years working as a mercenary. He didn't make that much, only enough to survive. He wasn't so often hired either. And that was how he liked it. He prefered to be alone. Years of untrust and hatred had fueled this.

He leaned forward at the sound of a few beeps from the ship. A ship had just exited hyperspace. He usually made sure to move to a spot in space that was less traveled. Rarely did he encounter anyone like this.

He waited.

Only a small freighter, dead in space. Just a freighter thought Tobal. He was many clicks away, but he was certain the owner of this derelict ship was aware of his presence.

With a crisp motion he enabled the stygium cloak on his ship, rendering it invisible to both sensors and the eye. He wanted to take a closer look before he made any potentially foolish choices.

And then he was gone.

Probably some kind of cloak. Silus thought to himself.

He sighed, and leaned back again. He kept himself aware, in case he had to act fast. Just because he didn't see him, didn't mean he was gone.

More thoughts of the past came into mind. In all his life, there was only one person who ever seemed to care anything about him. A young woman. A young slave. A slave to those basterds who claimed to be his family. She was the only person he had ever cared for. And she was forced to live a life not much different then his own. A life that only led to her death. And one of his first realisations of what he was.

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Her body was beaten, laying limp on the floor. An angered figure stood above her, a small blade in his right hand. She was dead. And he killed her.

He could not believe what had happened when he entered the room. And he felt the anger rise inside him, beyond what it ever had. The man laughed, and placed the knife down. He made a comment, but Silus did not bother to listen.

"You killed her," he said, his voice cold and low, emotionless almost.

The man chuckled, "Yes, I did. And you'd be lucky if I didn't do the same to you."

"You killed her." Silus said again, his voice didn't change, but his hands soon were clenched into fists.

"What's the matter with you?"

He stared at him, and at the knife. He stared at the thing, it was still covered in blood. Her blood. He moved forward, still staring at it, his anger increasing.

The man left, to a different part. Silus picked up the knife. And then felt something hard hit him in the side of the head, and he collapsed to the ground. The knife flew out of his hands, sliding across the ground. Another hit, and he felt the warm trickle of his own blood go down his face. He looked up, to see the man, holding a large metal rod. He was drunk, as Silus could. The man lunged at him again, but this time Silus brought up his leg, a well-placed kick bringing him down to his knees. Silus made to get up, to get the knife, but was pulled down. The man had pinned him, the rod pressing down on Silus' throat, choking him.

Is this how I am to end, killed by a drunk fool?

His eyes darted to the left, staring at the knife. He found himself, almost involuntarily, wanting it to come to his outstretched hand. Willing it to come.

And the next he knew, he had plunged the blade into the man's forehead. The rod slacked, and the body fell to the ground, a face of horror and shock frozen on his face.

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Silus leaned forward, staring out of the viewport into the space beyond. He would leave there, bury the womans body, and return much later to the house to find it stripped and everyone within dead. It brought his freedom. But it also brought him some truth. Another piece to the puzzle of his lineage. Someone in his lineage was a force-user. And now he had that ability.

And now, almost a decade later, he was here.

His Infiltrator slid past the light freighter a few times, and Tobal examined the sensor readouts. No hidden “surprises” were detected, and only one passenger had been picked up.

Frowning slightly, the Shadow looped his ship around again and pulled up along the bottom of the freighter. Allowing the computer takeover, his piloting skills left much to be desired, the young man instructed it to hold position.

… So much … pain … troubled … pain …

The feelings assaulted his mind, and his brow wrinkled in concern. The feelings hit home, they were so similar to what he had felt when his father died…

… So similar … but so different …

He hailed the freighter.

There were a few more beeps that caught his attention. He pressed a button, and spoke.

"This is Silus, owner of this vessal. What is it you want from me?"

He leaned back. He wondered who this person was who decided to hail him. He was very intrigued, and waited for the other vessal to reply.

… Silus …

“My name is Tobal,” said the young man. “I notice you seem to be stuck here, in open space… do you require assistance?”

"On the contrary, Tobal, I am here by choice. No assistance is needed."

Tobal.... I do not know this person.

"Is there any other business you wish to discuss?"

Silus could...almost sense something about this man. Something...different.

I wonder...