(ooc: This is in connection with -this- thread.)
Trandosha, an arid world where only the strongest survived and that is how the resident sentient beings, the Trandoshans, liked it. Their society broken up into Clans of various occupations and purposes, they lived in relative harmony with each other: but only to those who just looked at the surface. In truth there underneath the peaceful façade was enough political scheming, backstabbing, and infighting to keep the populous in a constant state of tension, never knowing which Clan will attack who and when. But thus was they way of the Trandoshan, always looking for ways to add more credits to their coffers and raise themselves higher up on the scale of power. This mind set stays with them even when they travel off planet, resulting in them being on of the most feared…and despised…races in the galaxy.
But not all Trandoshans have that bloodthirsty, greedy mindset and some of them, held control over a Clan that was once feared throughout Trandoshan society: Clan K’Satikur…the very clan that is reputed to have the spirit of the dreaded K’Satizitus within it’s control. Current generations however, have had a more peaceful mindset and desired to rid themselves of the K’Satizitus’ curse. An attempt was made, when the bloodline that carried the curse was purposely split. But the sly evil spirit merely waited until the next generation, when only one male was born to either of the two brothers. The surviving brother and current head of the Clan, Rissonik, now contemplated what more they could do to try to end the curse, before his son is possibly consumed by the greedy spirits bloodlust. Trazu had done well so far to contain the spirit, using it’s powers only as a last resort, but due to events that happened two standard years ago made the aging Trandoshan worry that Trazu may be losing his control.
Sitting in elaborately decorated chair in the main meeting room of the Clan’s temple, Rissonik pondered his son’s…and likely the Clan’s fate. Across the room from him, mounted on the wall was the skull of the K’Satizitus, it’s empty sockets laughing at him mockingly. Easily twice the size of a Trandoshan’s head, it was adorned with more spines and horns then today’s Trandoshan’s had. It was hinted at in ancient text that the K’Satizitus was actually a very large Trandoshan who was the result of extreme inbreeding. Rissonik himself wasn’t too sure of the reliability of that information, though looking at the bleached, polished relic of the past he could see the similarities that could led up to that conclusion.
He couldn’t help but wonder how the skull had managed to survive the years. The thing was lined with so many faint cracks now that it was a wonder it didn’t just crumble into dust right before his eyes. Even the low ranking Trandoshans who were in charge of cleaning the place feared even touching the thing with a duster, for fear it would crumble from the simplest touch. Rissonik himself was tempted on a couple of occasions to take a blaster to the thing, considering how much he personally despised the spirit. But something in those empty eye sockets always managed to force him to stay his hand…like the skull itself had a will of it’s own over those that stood before it.
A sound from outside the chamber drew him out of his musings and he looked up at the rooms main entrance to see Varcanna, whom many just called ‘Varca’, dressed in a simple robe and looking weary. She was a very tall and graceful female Tran, with a lean frame of wiry muscle underneath those scales of a dark rust and a piercing set of green eyes that can send shivers of fear through most lower ranking Trandoshans.
Since Trazu had declined taking over leadership of the Clan, Rissonik had decided that if he died before Trazu’s two sons, Trissan and Silonik, came of age Varcanna would take leadership until they did. Normally a female wouldn’t even be considered for such a position even on a temporary basis like this, but like her mother Naosha, who currently sat in the Council of Elders, Varcanna possessed an eye coloration that was considered a mark of status in their society. She was also blessed with intelligence, something her father Tnossok…who was Rissonik’s brother…lacked. Varcanna was also just as tough and fierce as any male warrior, her multiple battlescars were proof of that, including the particularly nasty one she had across her chest, which she got from her own father.
But today Rissonik noticed that her normally bright green eyes were dull, her dark rust colored scales having lost some of their normal luster. He watched with a critical eye as she joined him at the table, her mannerisms showing exhaustion and worry. Her movements were also somewhat clumsy, like she wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings.
“Are you unwell Varca?” Rissonik asked, using the Clan Dialect of their native tongue. “It would not do well for the Clan if you were to perish now to an unforeseen ailment.”
“I am unwell only in the spirit Uncle.” Varcanna replied, using the Clan Dialect as well. “And only because of the happenings with the other…”
Rissonik nodded, knowing what she was referring to…and he knew this was not good. Ever since they were infants, she and her half-brother Trazu had an unusual bond with each other. It existed even before Trazu had broken free from his shell, which Varcanna had to help him out of: a feat unheard of among Trandoshan hatchlings, who normally hunt down and kill their weaker siblings at birth.
This bond was weakened, but not severed when their mother was forced to separate them to save Trazu from Rissonik’s brother, who would have killed him as he did his three sisters: Tnossok had only spared Varcanna because her red scales had marked her as obviously his own. It was this bond that allowed Varcanna to find her half-brother later on in life and convince him to return to Dosha to learn the truth about this heritage, which included the curse of the K’Satizitus. During their time together, before Trazu set off on his own again after his mate’s death, that bond had strengthened tremendously, allowing one to know when the other was in some sort of trouble. This kind of bond is unusual in an egg laying species, especially since Trazu and Varcanna were sired by two different males.
“He is losing this resolve then…” Rissonik said with a sigh.
Varcanna nodded. “The nightmares have been getting worse Uncle and last night, the K’Satizitus itself appeared in them.”
Rissonik felt his muscles tense underneath his yellowing green scales. “Did it say anything to you?” He asked hesitantly.
Another nod. “Yes…’He is nearly mine’”
“As I feared…his ever increasing periods of silence works only to confirm this.”
“There is another involved in this Uncle…I feel.”
“Another?”
“Yes. An outside influence.” She groaned, resting her forehead on the table. “Someone…on the Dark Side.”
A worried frown developed on the Clan leaders features. Trandoshans were not avid believers of the Force, let alone practitioners of it, but knew enough of the power it gave to those that knew how to weld it…and it’s corruptive abilities, particularly the Dark Side. It had even been suggested by historians that the K’Satizitus itself was a Force user. Most Trandoshans laughed at that theory, but Rissonik was one of the more open minded Trandoshans. Some of the things his grandson Silonik, who shared his father’s unusual eye coloration, has managed to do only strengthened his own beliefs in the Force: the youth had used some unusual tricks to keep his spawn brother Trissan from dominating over him completely. He suspected Trazu was Force Sensitive as well and he knew his son’s strong disbelief in the Force was likely proving to be dangerous if what Varcanna was telling him was correct.
Varcanna, however, has been wrong before in her interpretations of what she was feeling through their bond and Rissonik could only hope she was wrong here. A deep feeling in his gut though told him she was likely right. There was nothing either of them could really do though this far away from their kin as far as he knew, so Rissonik instead turned his immediate concerns toward Varca’s well being.
“How much sleep have you been getting Varca?” he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.
Varcanna lifted her head and with some effort forced herself to sit up. “Not enough…” she said with a shake of her head. “The nightmares have been aggressive the pass few nights. It’s a wonder I haven’t kept the little ones awake.” Along with being Rissonik’s chosen successor, she also tended to her half-brothers children. Since Varcanna was sterile, this was as close to being a mother as she would get and had eagerly accepted Trazu’s request to watch his spawn while he left to ‘collect his throughts’.
“Naosha has some sleeping agents that will help you sleep, I suggest you take some.”
Varcanna looked at him now with shocked look on her face. “Are you sure I…and Trazu…can afford to put myself out like that? Knowing what we both suspect is happening?”
“I understand this may be a critical time to suggest this.” Rissonik rose to his feet and helped Varcanna to her own. “But with both your mind and body as exhausted as they are, it’s possible you may be misinterpreting what you are feeling.”
“But…”
“This is for the sake of your physical health as well. “Rissonik said sharply. “We never know when another Clan may attack us and as one of our more experienced warriors we need you to be in good health.”
Varcanna opened her jaws to protest, but stopped herself and just nodded in acceptance. Normally the stubborn female would have argued a lot more, but in her exhausted state she didn’t have much will to argue right now.
As Rissonik lead Varcanna out of the room, he could have sworn he heard that accursed skull laughing at him…
Trandosha, an arid world where only the strongest survived and that is how the resident sentient beings, the Trandoshans, liked it. Their society broken up into Clans of various occupations and purposes, they lived in relative harmony with each other: but only to those who just looked at the surface. In truth there underneath the peaceful façade was enough political scheming, backstabbing, and infighting to keep the populous in a constant state of tension, never knowing which Clan will attack who and when. But thus was they way of the Trandoshan, always looking for ways to add more credits to their coffers and raise themselves higher up on the scale of power. This mind set stays with them even when they travel off planet, resulting in them being on of the most feared…and despised…races in the galaxy.
But not all Trandoshans have that bloodthirsty, greedy mindset and some of them, held control over a Clan that was once feared throughout Trandoshan society: Clan K’Satikur…the very clan that is reputed to have the spirit of the dreaded K’Satizitus within it’s control. Current generations however, have had a more peaceful mindset and desired to rid themselves of the K’Satizitus’ curse. An attempt was made, when the bloodline that carried the curse was purposely split. But the sly evil spirit merely waited until the next generation, when only one male was born to either of the two brothers. The surviving brother and current head of the Clan, Rissonik, now contemplated what more they could do to try to end the curse, before his son is possibly consumed by the greedy spirits bloodlust. Trazu had done well so far to contain the spirit, using it’s powers only as a last resort, but due to events that happened two standard years ago made the aging Trandoshan worry that Trazu may be losing his control.
Sitting in elaborately decorated chair in the main meeting room of the Clan’s temple, Rissonik pondered his son’s…and likely the Clan’s fate. Across the room from him, mounted on the wall was the skull of the K’Satizitus, it’s empty sockets laughing at him mockingly. Easily twice the size of a Trandoshan’s head, it was adorned with more spines and horns then today’s Trandoshan’s had. It was hinted at in ancient text that the K’Satizitus was actually a very large Trandoshan who was the result of extreme inbreeding. Rissonik himself wasn’t too sure of the reliability of that information, though looking at the bleached, polished relic of the past he could see the similarities that could led up to that conclusion.
He couldn’t help but wonder how the skull had managed to survive the years. The thing was lined with so many faint cracks now that it was a wonder it didn’t just crumble into dust right before his eyes. Even the low ranking Trandoshans who were in charge of cleaning the place feared even touching the thing with a duster, for fear it would crumble from the simplest touch. Rissonik himself was tempted on a couple of occasions to take a blaster to the thing, considering how much he personally despised the spirit. But something in those empty eye sockets always managed to force him to stay his hand…like the skull itself had a will of it’s own over those that stood before it.
A sound from outside the chamber drew him out of his musings and he looked up at the rooms main entrance to see Varcanna, whom many just called ‘Varca’, dressed in a simple robe and looking weary. She was a very tall and graceful female Tran, with a lean frame of wiry muscle underneath those scales of a dark rust and a piercing set of green eyes that can send shivers of fear through most lower ranking Trandoshans.
Since Trazu had declined taking over leadership of the Clan, Rissonik had decided that if he died before Trazu’s two sons, Trissan and Silonik, came of age Varcanna would take leadership until they did. Normally a female wouldn’t even be considered for such a position even on a temporary basis like this, but like her mother Naosha, who currently sat in the Council of Elders, Varcanna possessed an eye coloration that was considered a mark of status in their society. She was also blessed with intelligence, something her father Tnossok…who was Rissonik’s brother…lacked. Varcanna was also just as tough and fierce as any male warrior, her multiple battlescars were proof of that, including the particularly nasty one she had across her chest, which she got from her own father.
But today Rissonik noticed that her normally bright green eyes were dull, her dark rust colored scales having lost some of their normal luster. He watched with a critical eye as she joined him at the table, her mannerisms showing exhaustion and worry. Her movements were also somewhat clumsy, like she wasn’t quite aware of her surroundings.
“Are you unwell Varca?” Rissonik asked, using the Clan Dialect of their native tongue. “It would not do well for the Clan if you were to perish now to an unforeseen ailment.”
“I am unwell only in the spirit Uncle.” Varcanna replied, using the Clan Dialect as well. “And only because of the happenings with the other…”
Rissonik nodded, knowing what she was referring to…and he knew this was not good. Ever since they were infants, she and her half-brother Trazu had an unusual bond with each other. It existed even before Trazu had broken free from his shell, which Varcanna had to help him out of: a feat unheard of among Trandoshan hatchlings, who normally hunt down and kill their weaker siblings at birth.
This bond was weakened, but not severed when their mother was forced to separate them to save Trazu from Rissonik’s brother, who would have killed him as he did his three sisters: Tnossok had only spared Varcanna because her red scales had marked her as obviously his own. It was this bond that allowed Varcanna to find her half-brother later on in life and convince him to return to Dosha to learn the truth about this heritage, which included the curse of the K’Satizitus. During their time together, before Trazu set off on his own again after his mate’s death, that bond had strengthened tremendously, allowing one to know when the other was in some sort of trouble. This kind of bond is unusual in an egg laying species, especially since Trazu and Varcanna were sired by two different males.
“He is losing this resolve then…” Rissonik said with a sigh.
Varcanna nodded. “The nightmares have been getting worse Uncle and last night, the K’Satizitus itself appeared in them.”
Rissonik felt his muscles tense underneath his yellowing green scales. “Did it say anything to you?” He asked hesitantly.
Another nod. “Yes…’He is nearly mine’”
“As I feared…his ever increasing periods of silence works only to confirm this.”
“There is another involved in this Uncle…I feel.”
“Another?”
“Yes. An outside influence.” She groaned, resting her forehead on the table. “Someone…on the Dark Side.”
A worried frown developed on the Clan leaders features. Trandoshans were not avid believers of the Force, let alone practitioners of it, but knew enough of the power it gave to those that knew how to weld it…and it’s corruptive abilities, particularly the Dark Side. It had even been suggested by historians that the K’Satizitus itself was a Force user. Most Trandoshans laughed at that theory, but Rissonik was one of the more open minded Trandoshans. Some of the things his grandson Silonik, who shared his father’s unusual eye coloration, has managed to do only strengthened his own beliefs in the Force: the youth had used some unusual tricks to keep his spawn brother Trissan from dominating over him completely. He suspected Trazu was Force Sensitive as well and he knew his son’s strong disbelief in the Force was likely proving to be dangerous if what Varcanna was telling him was correct.
Varcanna, however, has been wrong before in her interpretations of what she was feeling through their bond and Rissonik could only hope she was wrong here. A deep feeling in his gut though told him she was likely right. There was nothing either of them could really do though this far away from their kin as far as he knew, so Rissonik instead turned his immediate concerns toward Varca’s well being.
“How much sleep have you been getting Varca?” he asked, a concerned tone in his voice.
Varcanna lifted her head and with some effort forced herself to sit up. “Not enough…” she said with a shake of her head. “The nightmares have been aggressive the pass few nights. It’s a wonder I haven’t kept the little ones awake.” Along with being Rissonik’s chosen successor, she also tended to her half-brothers children. Since Varcanna was sterile, this was as close to being a mother as she would get and had eagerly accepted Trazu’s request to watch his spawn while he left to ‘collect his throughts’.
“Naosha has some sleeping agents that will help you sleep, I suggest you take some.”
Varcanna looked at him now with shocked look on her face. “Are you sure I…and Trazu…can afford to put myself out like that? Knowing what we both suspect is happening?”
“I understand this may be a critical time to suggest this.” Rissonik rose to his feet and helped Varcanna to her own. “But with both your mind and body as exhausted as they are, it’s possible you may be misinterpreting what you are feeling.”
“But…”
“This is for the sake of your physical health as well. “Rissonik said sharply. “We never know when another Clan may attack us and as one of our more experienced warriors we need you to be in good health.”
Varcanna opened her jaws to protest, but stopped herself and just nodded in acceptance. Normally the stubborn female would have argued a lot more, but in her exhausted state she didn’t have much will to argue right now.
As Rissonik lead Varcanna out of the room, he could have sworn he heard that accursed skull laughing at him…