Demons - Part IV

Guest post written by Tigerfish Torpedo 

With his hand still wrapped around her throat, he closed his eyes and bowed his head. She was gone. His eyes were stinging as he clamped his eyelids shut, for he had maintained eye contact with her from the second he blocked her airway. He felt it so important to share every single moment of that intimate encounter, that he had disallowed himself the basic necessity to blink. He wasn't sure whether that desire was an expression of trust between the two, or whether it was a way for him to reinforce the fact that she wasn’t alone; that he would be there, by her side, protecting and caring for her throughout the end of her life. Or perhaps he wanted her to share in his discomfort, to experience the pain of being asked to perform such a horrific task on one of the few people that he genuinely cared for. 

It would have been so easy to have closed his eyes or simply look away, but that wasn’t the objective behind this encounter. No. She wanted to face her fears, embrace her demons, and she wanted him to experience every, single moment of it with her. Opening his eyes, he looked down at her still and silent form. 

"Why, Prathet?", he whispered at her lifeless corpse, knowing she was unable to answer. "Why did you make me do that?" 

Her demons may have been laid to rest, but his were still stalking him; moving along the beach, rising and falling over each sand dune as every white, wild horse crashed upon the shore. For the shortest time, he thought he could hear a woman laughing, taunting and teasing him as he cradled Sahriah’s body. Closing his eyes tightly once again, he listened for the sound of her voice. He was unwilling to accept that Illana had returned from the dead, and was mocking him for killing his Prathet – though it was in this exact spot that her earlier intervention had rendered him mentally unstable and caused him to attack Sahriah without provocation – an attack that had resulted in his own death at the hand of his Prathet. That was the catalyst for her fears. That moment on the beach, eleven years earlier... The taunting was getting louder. Caw, caw, caw. It continued. 

A break in the low-level clouds that littered the bay revealed the majesty of Thakala’s star and cast a golden ray of sunlight across the beach. Feeling the instant warmth of the sun on his neck, Tiger tilted his head back to look up at the heavens. He wasn't a religious man, despite having spent his happiest years with a beautiful Amarrian wife, but something, deep within, encouraged him to seek spiritual meaning from the golden sunbeam illuminating the beach. He even considered, momentarily, whether it was the conduit for Sahriah’s soul escaping Thakala, or whether it was Sahriah herself, smiling down on him, proud that he should fulfil her request without faltering. But why could he hear the ringing sound of constant mockery? Caw, caw, caw. Then, overhead, he saw a squall of birds, flying and swooping between the clouds, gliding on the thermal layers with their mournful cries and mocking accusations. 

"It's just the fucking birds", he grumbled with a modicum of relief. 

Looking back down at his Prathet’s lifeless body, he felt something else. He felt alone. It was the strangest feeling; she was here, but she wasn’t. That joyous moment of meaningful conversation with a dearly trusted friend had ended suddenly, plunging him into the overbearing silence of despair and isolation. Raising one hand to her face, he placed his curved fingers across her eyes and carefully lowered her eyelids. 

"I’m sorry, Prathet", he whispered softly. "I've failed you." 

She had trusted him to protect her, and guard her against those that would harm them for their beliefs. He was supposed to be her mentor and tutor, not her murderer. He wondered whether she even considered stopping him towards the end – why else would she grab at his wrist as he drained the life from her body? No. She knew what she wanted. She had only ever requested one thing from him, in the entire time she had served him with steadfast loyalty, and that alone was the reason that he accepted her request. 

Shifting from beneath the weight of her head and shoulders, he laid her softly down on the fine white sand. She looked almost peaceful, despite the blueish tinge to her lips, the bruising to her throat, and the deep imprint of his thumb across her trachea. He wondered where she was, at that precise moment; how in a universe as vast as New Eden, she was ‘nowhere’ – just dead. Her entire future laying within his hands. 

Lowering himself down onto the sand, by her side, he cuddled up against her, refusing to let her go. 

 * * * 

It had been several hours since Tiger had taken the life of his Prathet, and darkness had already fallen, shrouding the bay in its thick, black veil. He had fallen asleep with her in his arms and had only started to stir as the cool wind brushed against his skin. She was still lying in the same position, though her hair had become windswept in the last few hours, covering parts of her face from the converging stars overhead. It was time to head home and lay her body to rest. It had been an emotional day, and he was both mentally and physically drained. Leaning towards her, he placed a single, soft kiss upon her cold forehead. 

As Tiger rose to his feet, he gathered up Sahriah’s beloved Sani blade – the one that he, himself, had gifted her when she became his Prathet – and the small, black data recorder that she had set upon the sand. It had likely switched off hours earlier, and to some degree, he hoped it had. She had already accused him of being weak for loving his ex-wife as he did, for stubbornly refusing to accept that Shalee wanted nothing more to do with him, but to compound that with a lecture over the way he dealt with the death of his own Prathet – it was too much to bear. It mattered little that the sight of her desperation, during those frenzied last moments of her life, would likely haunt his dreams forever more. He just had to appear strong and brazen, unmoved by the most desperate of scenarios; to remain unaffected by anything life had in store. No. He wouldn’t hide his humanity from her. If she thought him weak for loving Shalee, or for being emotionally affected by the death of his Prathet, then so be it. He felt no shame in that. 

Scooping up her crumpled form in his arms, he carried her steadily back towards his house, ignoring the shuttle left in the grassy clearing. It took most of the night to reach his estate, but finally he was ready to lay his Prathet to rest. He had decided, during the long walk home, that the most fitting place for her body would be in the grounds of his Manor, near to the resting place of his first wife – a location of outstanding beauty, with breath-taking views over the picturesque valley below. 

In the darkness of the night, with just the glow of the moon above, he set about laying Sahriah to rest.

Demons - Part III

Region: Devoid 
Location: Thakala II
Date: 24.11.121
Time: 08:24 Local time

Patches of light dotted the shoreline, the clouds shifting across the sky, periodically revealing the sun and teasing warmth to the early morning. 

A cool breeze whipped across the sand as Sahriah made her way down the small embankment and onto the beach. Cries from sea birds mixed with the soft lapping of the waves as they washed up onto the shore. It would have been an idyllic location for most, but the ambience triggered an unpleasant sense of Déjà vu that gave her pause. Stopping, she turned around, scanning the beach, then the mountain line, her eyes finally drifting from the mist-covered peaks down to the small shuttle she had left in the grassy clearing. A cold shiver ran down her spine; nothing had changed here. Everything was so eerily similar, it was as if she had returned to that exact moment in the past, like she was in another one of her nightmares.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she continued to the water’s edge, black and red robes brushing a trail into the sand as she returned to the location she had once sat to contemplate Zac’s death. So many battles had passed since then. Countless engagements, countless losses. So much destruction wrought in the name of progress. Sometimes it was hard to justify it all; to accept that progress only came through sacrifice. Other times, it was all too easy to forget that the numbers on her screen represented real lives that hung in the balance of her every decision. She had learnt well to compartmentalize personal and professional relationships since then. But it still wasn’t an easy thing. 

‘There is no good and evil. There is each human assuming their rightful place amidst the stars’ she remembered the verse from the Apocryphon well. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it had not taken long under Tiger’s tutelage to realize that truth, real truth, was often unpleasant. 

Bloodveil had taught this truth another way; that the Sani Sabik recognized the individuals right to exercise power in accordance with their own personal capabilities. That was all life really was, one creature exercising their power over another. The universe was split between those few that possessed the strength of will to forge their own destinies, and the masses, too afraid to strike out, caught under the boot of those willing to make the hard sacrifices. 

‘To the one who seeks to overcome themselves I wish great hardship – I wish for them to become intimate with self-contempt, with the torture of self-doubt, to strip to the core themselves with the knowledge of their own existence; I have no pity for them, because I know that the only thing that can prove today, whether one is worth anything tomorrow - is that one can endure’ 

Kneeling, she ran a hand through the sand. It would be so easy to stop fighting; to lay down arms and retire to a nice quiet backwater planet like this one. She had been close once too, almost giving in to fatigue and despair after the siege of Insmother some two years prior, when Triumvirate had lost everything, when they were surrounded by enemies on all sides. It was the price of their own overzealous aggression throughout the years. The price of unchecked ambition. 

Even now a part of her yearned to let go, to abandon those ambitions and live a peaceful, happy life, free from the constant anxiety and pressures of leadership and combat. They were dangerous thoughts. She knew the lure of giving in to the promise of comfort and conformity was the bane of every great achiever. It had the ability to seduce the anxious and fearful. Those that lived in the face of the uncertainty and isolation associated with striving for greatness. She knew if she ever gave in to that desire, that eventually her skills would stagnate, that she would become weak. And someday, someone would come for something she cared about again, and just as before, she would be powerless to stop them. No…she had come too far, and sacrificed too much to doubt her path now; the only way was forward.

Her breathing became shallower as the atmosphere of the beach triggered visceral memories. She clutched the wet sand in her hand, forming it into a tight ball as she tried to suppress the all too familiar beginnings of another panic attack. Laying down on the sand, she closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting to that of her father and the words he used to calm her when she was young. 

‘The reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the oak that breaks in the storm Sahriah. But it has only learnt to bend because the wind presses it.’ 

Despite Wayism having no ties to the Sani Sabik philosophies, it always surprised her how similar the two cultures could be sometimes. Only the merited shall rule; the Caldari embraced the core teachings of the Sani without evening knowing it. Perhaps that was why it had been so easy for her to accept what Tiger had offered all those years ago. 

Sometimes pain is what we need; to cauterize the wound and burn out the infection. 

Pulling out her data pad, she connected it to her neocom and typed out a short message. She stared at it for a moment, before pressing the send button. 

Shira, 

During my time as your Prathet you have asked many things of me. I now wish to ask something of you. Let me know when you have time for me, and I will forward you the coordinates. 

Your Prathet,

Sahriah 

 *** 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she heard the shuttle approaching over the mountains; the sun had moved from its low position on the horizon, to high in the sky, burning off some of the cloud cover and allowing the beach to warm slightly. She was standing completely still, staring off into the infinite stretch of ocean that shimmered in the sunlight. 

Long after the sound of the engines had died down, she began to hear his footsteps approaching on the sand behind her. Resisting the urge to turn and face him, she took a deep breath as he finally neared close enough to speak. 

“Prathet?” 

He stopped a few feet behind her, his voice laced with hesitation; his mind turning over as he took a moment to examine her clothing. The location clearly wasn’t lost on him, nor the fact she was dressed in her Sani robes and not her usual military attire. 

“It’s very peaceful here. I can see why you made this planet your home” her voice lacked the usual professional tone she was used to using with him, instead it was soft, almost eerily calm. 

There was a pause before he spoke again, as if he was considering whether she posed him any threat. “I’ve always been a private man…” he responded cautiously, “…and Thakala was never very high on the tourism list.” 

Sahriah continued to stare out into the water, unmoving, realizing he had no intention yet of approaching her. 

"How did it go?" She figured inquiring about his recent visit with Shalee would be helpful to both break the ice, and determine if he was in a rational mood, before addressing her reason for bringing him here. 

“It went fine. We spent the evening talking. It was quite sweet. If anything, I'd say that she felt quite warm to me last night”, he paused, his brows knitting together in a slight frown. “She wasn't happy to learn that Empusa poses her a risk, but I told her that you were watching over her from the shadows.” 

She nodded her head slowly, the thought of dealing with Empusa, and the fact she knew Shalee was now watching her back, bringing a smile to her lips. "Well… she'll be dealt with soon enough." 

Sahriah knelt down, taking a seat in the cold sand and brushing a few strands of hair out of her face as the wind attempted to tangle them. Turning her head slightly to the side, she let him see part of her face, giving him a reassuring smile. "Will you sit with me?" 

Feeling slightly more at ease, he stepped forward, drawing alongside her and lowering himself down onto the sand. Bending his knees, he wrapped his arms around his legs. “You know I will, Sahriah” there was a slight pause before he added. “I'm surprised to see you here.” 

She let the silence hang in the air for a few moments, watching his face, letting his mind turn over as they enjoyed the peacefulness of the beach in stark contrast to the last time they had been here together. 

"I wanted you to know that, I think I understand your lesson, Shira." She looked back out across the water, shimmering in the patched sunlight. "That we cannot reach our true potential if we maintain a fear of exploring the depths within ourselves. That just as a raging river can be harnessed for its energy, so too can our primal layers be tempered and channeled to vitalize life." Pausing, she looked at him again, her voice seeking some kind of confirmation that she had understood what he had been trying to teach her since she had returned to Thakala. 

He shifted a little closer towards her on the sand, finally reaching up with one hand and placing it firmly on her shoulder. 

“My last lesson for you, Prathet, and you seem to understand the rationale completely. I didn't genuinely believe you would grasp the meaning this quickly, but it seems I often underestimate your ability to read between the lines.” His fingers gently rubbed her shoulder through the thick robe. “I would have taken it to extremes, to prove the point”. 

She didn’t flinch at his touch this time, her posture remaining completely relaxed. 

"You remember this place" she prompted, her voice shifting to a more serious tone; stating a fact rather than asking a question, wanting him to relive some of the memories. "You told me earlier that you're not that man anymore. I want to know what happened? Was it Eva? Was it Shalee who helped you?” She wanted, needed, to know what had changed. What had finally silenced the voices of Illana in his mind. 

He lowered his hand from her shoulder, averting his gaze – his focus moving to the sand as he ran his hand through it, letting the grains filter through his fingers. “I never truly knew when Illana was with me, Sahriah, but my love for Evangeline helped me through it. Gave me somewhere to focus my energy, focus myself. I wasn't quite right for a long time.” He paused for a moment before finishing his thought. “Empusa helped me too. Why do you think I hesitate when she needs killing? She helped me over the worst of it.” 

Sahriah looked down at the sand, bringing her own hand out from underneath her robe, her right hand, human now and not the white and grey carbon fibered cybernetics of her usual clone. She gently scooped up a handful of soft grains and then let them trickle through her fingers in unison with him. "So, you faced your demons, or they just…faded away?" she tried to hide the confusion in her voice, not sure she understood what he was saying. 

“I faced them for well over a year, Sahriah, but eventually they subsided. It was gradual, so I'm told”. He raised his eyes and looked out to sea. “Again, I find myself in a position where I want to apologize for putting you through what I did. It wasn't my place to do so, and the voices in my head were unwavering in their assault”. He smiled without looking at her. “I think getting closure away from my Shiras helped me too. My service to her was unhealthy. I was addicted to narcotics, living in the spotlight by her side”. 

Her calm veneer cracked ever so slightly at his admission that his service to Revan had ultimately been unhealthy for him, making her question her own situation, both in the past and the present. She was quiet for a long while as she searched for some concrete answer in his words to explain what had changed, what had ‘fixed’ him; some pillar of truth she could draw on. So much ambiguity was difficult for her; for a moment, it threw her purpose for meeting him in this place into doubt. 

Another gust of wind blew up against them, carrying the sand grains across the surface of the beach. Once she finally spoke, her words were laced with frustration and unsurety; like a child looking for answers from their parent. 

"And if we do embrace our own depths, how do we stop before the abyss, see how and where we might lose our way, prevent being torn apart by our own demons?" 

Tiger blurted out a laugh, unable to hide his amusement at the question. “You're talking to a man that is entirely focused, even drawing on the resources offered by his own dear Prathet, on reconciling with a weak woman of Amarrian faith; stubborn to the core and happy to fuck other men whilst apart from me” he rolled onto his back the sand grains sticking to the back of his jacket and finding their way into his hair. “My Shiras was ultimately brought down by her love for Jade Constantine. I was almost brought down by my love for Shalee”, he paused. “The trick, Sahriah, is not worry about where the abyss comes, and embrace that which we know is important to us. Would you rather live a sheltered life alone for immortality, unloved by anyone through fear of stumbling and falling in the dark? Or live a full and varied life, respecting everything that love and power provides, being ready and able to deal with disappointment when it draws it's vicious blade?” 

She frowned, his laugh feeling disrespectful to the tone of the conversation. Despite the location of their meeting he was completely oblivious to what she was asking him; how to avoid falling to a place where control was not fully in your grasp, just as he had. Instead he was focused on the aspects of love; Shalee intruding into their conversation as she always did. 

She sighed, not looking at him. "Alright. I understand." 

Tiger sat up, his eyes drifting to her. “I'm sorry, Prathet. You wanted to hear something different. You wanted me to tell you that you'll just know when to avoid that abyss. To reassure you that we have the answers to such questions... the truth is, we don't. We each take the lessons passed on through the generations and seek to improve those who follow the path we set. I learned some hard lessons from my own life, and I tried to impart my wisdom on you. To shape and mold you to become so much more than I could ever achieve. One day, you'll find someone that you want to help, and you'll find your own way to help them see the truth... the truth that life isn't fair, and that each experience we have is shaped by our own understanding”. 

He paused, picking up a handful of sand and balling it into a fist. Turning it to the side, he began the gradual flow of sand again. “Time passes, much like this sand. Each grain but a lesson to overcome. Tell me... If you found someone young, some naive, but you thought they had potential, would you do to them, as I did to you? Would you teach them the lessons I've imparted upon you? Would you use my own teaching methods, knowing how it helped shape you as a person?” 

Sahriah curled her knees up under her chin, her cheek resting on them, looking over to the sand falling through his fingers and contemplating his question. He had always been a mentor to her, and she wanted to believe he had all the answers to her questions, but she knew that was a naive notion. 

"I don't know." she responded truthfully, never really thought she would ever be in the position to teach another the lessons she'd learnt from him, at least, not in that way. "Would you change anything you did?" 

He was quiet for a moment in thoughtful contemplation. “I sometimes feel guilty about what I put you through, but I have to question whether you would have ever run an alliance like Triumvirate, or led thousands of pilots into battle, without the lessons I gave you. Without the experiences I provided. Can you not see how my methods, whilst cruel, shaped you to become what you are?”. He shook his head, lowering his eyes. “You were the only person, in my entire life, that I deemed worthy of learning what I had to teach”. After another small pause he spoke up, certainty finally returning to his voice. “I wouldn't change anything. You're incredible, Prathet, and I take pride in knowing that I helped you become that”. 

His words were true. Had it not been for him, she doubted whether she would have ever become a capable combat pilot. Despite being cruel at times, his lessons had hardened her; made her resilient to the physical and mental strains of leading others into combat, of managing an alliance. But it had also come at a cost. 

Finally looking at him, she offered a genuine smile, knowing in her heart he was telling her his truth. That everything he had done, he had done because he cared about her, because he knew that only by pushing her limits would she realize her full potential. 

"Thank you" she whispered back softly as she turned her body to face him. "You say you are not that man anymore. But I still see that man. Every time I look into your eyes." And when I close mine. 

Slowly she parted one side of her robe, unsheathing the curved Sani blade that had been secured inside, placing it on the sand between them before looking up at him again, trying to gauge his reaction to her words and the blade, her voice regretful for the truth she spoke. "You were right when you said I feared you." 

He reached over, slowly picking it up and examining it in detail, a look of pride on his face that she would keep her blade as close to her, as he kept his. 

“Sahriah…..If you consider that everything I've taught you, each act of cruelty I ordered performed upon you, helped shape the woman you are today, then you need to consider how, whilst I'm not that same man anymore, he's part of who I am. He still lives in here”, he patted his chest, around the vicinity of his heart, then patted his forehead. “You're right to fear him. You're right to fear me. I'm still capable of doing everything now, that I ever did before. My past actions were the result of the pressures I felt, and my inability to deal with things. If the same were to happen today, would the cycle restart? Maybe it would. Do you understand?” 

"I do…" she replied slowly, lifting her hand and placing it over his, pulling the blade gently back to the sand. "I called you weak, for not tempering your love, for letting it control you. But I have been weak too, for not tempering my fear." She shifted in the sand, moving closer to him. "You dealt with your demons, now I must as well.” 

He didn’t resist her touch but didn’t lift his hand from the blade either, suddenly feeling uneasy, beginning to piece things together.

“What did you have in mind Pr... Sahriah? How can I help you overcome your fear from me, when potentially I could return to that man at any given time?”. He looked across at her, her windswept hair partly covering her face and shoulder. “I hold nothing against you for calling me weak, for there was truth to those words…You need to realize that whilst you may falter, you may have already fallen too much worse, without being who you are, and weathering all you already have.” 

"I left you once before, when you needed me most, out of fear you would kill me." she responded slowly, drawing her other hand into her robe and pulling out another item, a small electronic recording device, the blinking light on its side indicating it was already active. "I want you to give this to me, after." she set it on the sand and looked back up at him, into his eyes, searching them for the recognition that he understood what she was asking of him. 

Tiger remained completely motionless, the cogs ticking within his mind as he kept his gaze locked on her. The earlier observations of her ceremonial robe, her official blade, and the location of their meeting now reaffirmed what he knew she wanted. “That device is a recorder, isn't it? You're recording everything, to learn from this moment”. His eyes shifted down to her blade. “You think that by embracing your darkest fear, that you'll be able to grow from it, to learn resilience from it?” 

She held his gaze, resisting the urge to look away. He didn’t need to understand that it wasn’t his capability for cruelty that was the cause of her fear, but her own inability to face her own death at his hands. 

"I just need to know." her voice betrayed a hint of concern, that he might not grant her what she desired of him.

He was silent a moment as he considered her request. “I have half a mind to deny you, Prathet. I think that fear is important to you, and is healthy for our relationship. You should never not fear me”, he paused. “But if you want me to do this for you, you will need to ask me, in simple language, for what you want. And you will look into my eyes as you ask me. I want you to understand the implications of this decision”. 

Sahriah hesitated a moment, part of her wondering if he might deny her anyway, or if his reasons for doing so were more complicated than he was letting on. 

She looked down at his hand, still wrapped around the blade as it lay in the sand, feeling a pang of doubt about what she was doing. The blade was too impersonal, too…easy. He had ended the lives of many with his own. Her thoughts returned to Tiger's office, to when he had stopped himself from killing her during one of their arguments. 

Curling her fingers under his palm, between him and the handle, she lifted his hand away from the blade, bringing it towards her to rest on her throat. Maintaining eye contact with him, she steeled her face with the conviction she'd spent the last several hours on the beach building. 

"I want you to take my life here Leo" she used his real name now; a final act of entreatment.

Tiger shifted his weight on the sand, moving onto his knees. Kneeling beside her, he kept his hand on her throat, not yet applying any pressure. Bringing his other hand up, he placed it to the side of her face, his thumb softly stroking her cheek as he stared back into her eyes. “You do realize this will be difficult for me too, right?” there was a pause “Sahriah, you need to know how much I love you, before I do this for you”. 

She gazed at him regretfully as she buried strong feelings of guilt, resisting the urge to speak, lest it break her conviction in the moment, she simply nodded softly in acknowledgement. 

Breaking eye contact with her, he looked down at the sand, still stroking the side of her face with his thumb as though he hadn’t yet made his decision. She watched him, seeing the conflict in his mind, trusting that he would do as she asked, fulfill the only request she had made of him in all her time as his Prathet. 

Finally, after several minutes, he looked back up to meet her gaze, his eyes equally apologetic. Very slowly he began to apply pressure, his grip tightening around her throat, closing his thumb over her windpipe to block off her ability to breath. Knowing she would soon be in great pain, he continued to gently stroke her cheek with his other hand. “I'm sorry”, he whispered, staring deep into her eyes, refusing to look away. 

She closed her eyes for a moment, her heart rate increasing as his fingers tightened around her throat, transforming the conviction she felt to doubt, fear, and then to adrenaline as endorphins began to flood her system; the mixture of pain and affection which had encompassed their entire relationship being reflected in each long moment that passed.

Forcing herself to look at him, she opened her eyes once again, her vision already beginning to blur as the skin around her neck quickly became numb under the pressure. A lightheadedness crept over her as he continued to tighten his grip, her body beginning to squirm slightly in his grasp. Tiger bit his lower lip. She could tell he was struggling with what he was doing to her, that he was adamant to never take his eyes from hers, but her ability to be concerned that he would falter quickly faded as she began to lose her composure; instinct leading her to start gasping for breath. 

Her hands moved to his wrists, pulling at them in some natural unfettered resistance to death that even Capsuleer's were still susceptible to. Her forethought in changing to a clone without her usual cybernetic arm enhancement meant that her strength was no match for him, especially in her current state. He shifted his weight, keeping his thumb firmly in place on her windpipe, not wishing to draw the ordeal out a second longer than necessary as her body convulsed in his grasp. 

Black spots formed across her vision, her weight slowly becoming unsteady and weak, reliant on him to hold her there; her last thoughts, wondering if he would truly honor her request for the recording. 

As her vision faded she was vaguely aware of him, his eyes still on her, his thumb still gently stroking her cheek, easing her into a darkness she wouldn’t remember, until her body fell limp in his arms.

Demons - Part II

Region: Devoid  

Location: Thakala II - Foxx Manor House

Date: 24.11.121

Time: 03:17 Local time

The cold sand pressed into her body as she struggled against the weight of him, an unrelenting force compressing on her with unmatched fury, forcing the air out of her lungs. She tasted the iron in her mouth as the blade slowly dug into her throat, releasing red trickles of lifeblood down onto the beach, only for it to be washed away by the rising water.

Time slowed, and looking up she saw another figure, a Caldari man, standing just a few feet back. She tried to call him but no sound escaped her lips, and so she reached out her arm instead, surrendering the only barrier that prevented the force above from consuming her. The figure merely looked at her expressionless and unmoving, before slowly turning its back and walking away, leaving her grasping for help in the sand as darkness overtook her vision.

***

There was a brief moment of dark between nightmare and reality as Sahriah jolted up in bed, rapid shallow breaths escaping her lips as a familiar sense of unshakeable dread filled her. She looked around, a cold sweat running down her face, her vision distorted, the room warping in on itself; as if the distances between objects had been elongated.

Scrambling to drag the blankets off her, she managed to roll out of the bed to the ground. Reaching her hand out, she searched for the soft familiar support of Ja'tek as he came dutifully to her side. She clutched his fur, using the body of the large Syrikos hound to steady herself as she struggled to control her breathing.  Her heart pounding in her chest, she squeezed her eyes closed as if to ward away the nausea and sat curled up against the warm fur until the attack finally passed.

Stretching out an arm to the desk beside the bed, she curled her fingers around a glass of water and brought it to her lips, leaning her body back against the side of the bed. It had been several weeks since the last time. Sometimes she thought the gaps between them were increasing to the point where they would disappear, but they never did. As much as she wanted to forget she had come to accept that some memories were permanent.

A wet nose brushed against her cheek and she lifted her hand to stroke Ja'tek as he moved to lay down in her lap. She was thankful that she was able to bring him with her to Thakala, as he was not welcome in most of the stations she visited. Even Jacob had not been a fan of the hound's presence, always reminding her of his Slaver lineage, despite the careful breeding she had done to ensure he was properly tempered.

Her mind wandered as she closed her eyes again, giving in to the weight of the constant fatigue she had felt since arriving in Thakala. Juggling the duties of alliance leadership within Triumvirate, and managing the return of her position within the sect was beginning to take its toll. Jacob. What would you say if you knew I had returned here? She brushed that thought away immediately, before she could upset herself with the answer.

Leaning forward, she rubbed her hands over her face, resting her elbows on her knees as new waves of emotion rolled over her. It wasn’t enough that little things had to remind her of Jacob occasionally, but now even Tiger wouldn’t leave the matter well enough alone. Argument after argument, he would always return to the subject whenever she questioned his blind devotion to Shalee, knowing he could control her with it; manipulate her emotions to make her feel pain, to bring her down to his level.

“I love her Prathet. You still have such little appreciation of love.”

“How do you manage without the need to feel loved?”

“You have truly no idea how it feels to lose a love.”

“You don't just walk away from someone you love, if you have a heart.”

He was relentless, taunting her about the man he himself had forced her to let go of, until his constant chiding of her personal life had become too much. Until she had finally snapped on him.

"You can't take love" she had sneered back, "Love is given. And true love is the ability to let someone go, if all you do is hurt them." She had let each one of her statements sink in. "You are blinded by obsession."

“Obsession?” his hand raised instinctively for her neck, the other holding her head completely still as he squeezed at her throat, tightening his grasp; his eyes never leaving hers. He continued to choke her until the life had started to drain from her face, and just before crushing her windpipe completely, he released his grasp and let her fall to the ground.

Sahriah ran her fingers across her neck. Those arguments had been weeks ago, and she had been careful not to raise the subject again so directly after that. But he had noticed her quieter, more restrained demeanor, even when he had invited her into his office for a few drinks.

“Can't you just relax and enjoy my company, Prathet? You’re so guarded. Can’t you see you needn’t be so. Not tonight” he sighed, watching her for a few moments. “Come and kneel before me.”

As she complied, he leant forward towards her bowed frame, reaching up with both hands and placing them squarely on her shoulders. Digging his thumbs into the back of her shoulder blades, he raked his fingers along her collarbone, feeling the muscle. “You are so tense”.

“You're my Prathet, Sahriah. You are my weapon, my conscience and my council. I don't want you to be afraid of me. I really do value you”.

Even as she remembered them now, his words sent a cold shiver down her spine. She had become so accustomed to the careful navigation of conversation with him that she found herself constantly on guard when he was around. She thought back to him, his fingers curling around her neck, placing just enough pressure there to test her trust of him; knowing he could simply tighten his grip and drain the life from her at any moment. Knowing that he would, should she say the wrong combination of words.

There was a certain thrill to it, the unpredictability of every action. Something about the mixture of fear and adrenaline that had become addictive in the dynamic of their relationship. Every time he touched her, she was reminded of the beach; of the punishment he had inflicted on her following his cloning. And every time he showed her the smallest affection, the smallest amount of gratitude for what she had endured in service to him, she was reminded that he could be a good man, that he could be kind; that change was still possible, in spite of the past. She frowned at that thought, Jacob's words immediately resurfacing in her mind. “He knows exactly how to lure you in, can't you see that?"

She looked down at Ja'tek, softly caressing his ears and feeling guilty about questioning Tiger's intentions when he had only asked her to share a drink with him. He had been much kinder to her lately than he ever had been in the past, yet she still flinched whenever he so much as touched her. There was some scar there that she didn’t know how to heal. Something beyond her ability to control.

Sahriah took a few long deep breaths, trying to settle herself and bring clarity to her thoughts. Tiger was still obsessed with Shalee, despite everything she had done to him; despite her disregard for their marriage. So much so that he would have killed her in cold blood to win Shalee back.

"Do you not care that he would spill your blood so easily?"  The thought of Shalee's words in her head as well was too much.

Tiger wanted her to embrace love, perhaps to even seek Jacob out again, but how could she ever allow herself to risk becoming like that, like him? Love is a chain, like equality, like fear or uncertainty or self-doubt. It binds the strong to the weak. She reaffirmed in her head what she had come to understand from the Sani Sabik teachings; the lesson Tiger himself had unknowingly taught her, and it provoked a realization. Something she had been missing.

“He will kill you one day Sahriah”. It was Jacob’s warnings that still rang in her head, even after all these years.

Fear was the problem. Despite the life of near immortality she enjoyed, fear was the thing spawning the nightmares in her head while she slept, the anxiety, the involuntary recoiling from his touch. It was the thing that fed the constant guarded tension between them. Fear that he was going to kill her, that he would kill her eventually; that it would be out of her control when he did. And she didn’t want to be afraid of him anymore.

Rising to her feet, she looked over at the time display on her bedside table. It was still early. There would be plenty of time today, to do what needed to be done.

“You're a damned fool sometimes."  

“I know Jacob.”

Demons - Part I

    Region: Devoid  

Location: Thakala II 

Date: YC 110

10 years ago

A hazy blackness slowly gave way to form and color as Sahriah returned to consciousness. Her eyes flickered open, the shapes above her blurry and unfocused as she stared at the ceiling, trying to recall the last few images in her mind. Her body felt stiff and weak; there was a dull ache at the back of her skull and her right side pulsed with pain as she tried to move. Probably the result, she gathered, of whatever impact had put her in her current state.

She followed the soft golden curves that ran across the roof of the darkened room, realizing she must be on an Amarrian station or ship of some kind. Stretching her arm out slowly, she ran her hand across the top of the bed. It was soft; not the thin, harsh sheets of a medical facility, but silky and warm, a proper bed. Slipping her hand underneath the covers, she felt across her body next, searching for the source of the pain. Whoever had placed her here had left the underclothes of her uniform on, but her midriff was wrapped with a coarse fabric, likely a gauze bandage of some kind. 

Turning her head to the side, she shifted her elbow to provide support as she tried to turn her body, sending a few sharp slivers of pain down her side. Her movement stirred a figure nearby, and she felt the bed compress as it came to her side. A cool hand ran over her forehead as the figure spoke. A soft familiar voice. 

“Wake up Sahriah” his words were a light whisper, spoken in a tenderness that brought an immediate warmth to her chest. Her lips curled into a weak smile as she moved her hand to his knee, trying to pull herself up. 

 “Jacob...” 

 “No no, slowly – there’s no need to rush.” he added, his arm moving instinctively to support her frame as he reached for the glass of water he had placed by her bedside. “Here, drink this.” 

Ignoring the water, she pulled herself up, wrapping her arms around his neck and wincing slightly as her muscles compressed around the partially healed wound on her waist. She whispered into his ear with audible relief “You’re alive!” 

Despite being commissioned Capsuleers for a year now, real combat was still a relatively new experience for them both. Before they had joined CRMSN, her and Jacob had been running security for a small group of miners based out of the Josameto system some four regions away in Caldari territory, shooting at rogue pirates and other annoying, but ultimately irrelevant scum. Now, under the watchful tutelage of their new commander, Tigerfish Torpedo, they were mercenaries, being trained in how real Capsuleer warfare was conducted; something the State War Academy had ill prepared them for. The trivial conflicts of baseliners were one thing; they were like ants to her now, barely worth the effort it took to dispatch them. But a full-scale conflict against opponents that returned and adapted after every death; that was a whole nother type of combat. The process of death and rebirth was violent, and despite knowing their clones provided them with near immortality, there was still a primal fear of death that encroached on the psyche in the moments it was near. 

Images of the battle were returning to her now. Jacob’s Rokh-class battleship had been pinned down by war targets on the Hati stargate in the Uadelah system as he was returning to The Crimson Federation’s primary staging point in Thakala. He had sought to avoid the traditional route through Riavayed, but they’d predicted that movement and his resulting distress signal to the rest of the Alliance had brought her and several other Capsuleers to his aid. She was still missing time though, the impact to her head must have been harder than she thought. 

She embraced him a little tighter, resting her head against him; feeling his body close to hers, his hand around her back. The soft caress of his thumb against her bare skin brought her a sense of security and reassurance only he could provide. After a time, she opened her eyes and shifted her chin over his shoulder, taking in the rest of the room. 

The layout was familiar, they were captains’ quarters of a standard Amarrian design, probably a cruiser class vessel she gathered from the size. The room was elegantly decorated, almost everything themed a deep crimson, complimenting the golden architecture of the Amarrian vessel. Artifacts of expensive taste added to the décor, many of them she recognized as Sani Sabik in origin. This wasn’t one of her ships, or Jacob’s she realized. It was Tiger’s. 

She pulled back from him, about to question him on why she was on this ship, in this room, when she caught sight of the data pad sitting on the table behind them. It occurred to her that she couldn't remember the end of the battle, and the fact that she was here obviously indicated it had gone poorly. 

Clutching Jacob’s shoulder, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, rising and making her way over to the table, not bothering to search for additional clothing in the warm room; they had been around each other long enough that her current state of dress wouldn't faze either of them. Tapping the data pad, she realized it was locked.

“Do you know where my crew is?” the escape pods would have been recovered and the survivors likely returned to Thakala she thought, but she was unaware how much time had passed. After a moment of silence with no response she turned around to face him, noting he had not followed her to the table. “Jacob?" she prompted again. "Have you seen Zac?” 

Attempting to hold his composure, he stared at the floor. “Sahriah…I.” she realized he was holding back tears, only now taking note of his somber appearance. “…I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I should have taken a different route.” 

She frowned at him, concern beginning to well in her stomach and touch her voice “Jacob?” 

He stood and moved over to the table. Standing behind her, he reached down over her shoulder and tapped the data pad to unlock it; the pad Tiger had given him to show her. She looked down at it as the names began to scroll across the screen, a list of all the crew from the ‘Spectre’, the thorax-class cruiser she had taken to the battle. A bolded red typeface overlaid the bottom of each portrait – DECEASED. 

She stared at it for a long moment, taking in the sheer amount of people who had perished with its destruction, the number far outweighing the usual survival rates for the hull class. She tapped the pad in several places and the screen transitioned to a shortened list of ‘Spectre’s’ bridge crew. One name was already highlighted, immediately drawing her eye as she picked out the letters of her first officer’s name one by one. ZAC. Jacob watched as her face showed recognition, his hand instinctively moving to her shoulder to provide comfort “He didn’t make it, I’m sorry.” 

Sahriah sat unmoving for several moments, shock paralyzing her. Zac had been with her since she graduated from the State War Academy. Even as a baseliner, he was the closest thing she had to a friend after Jacob himself. He had survived several ship destructions with her before; the bridge crew always had ample access to escape pods. Now he was gone? How? She racked her brain trying to remember the final moments on her ship, but the memories refused to come. 

Slowly, the numbness in her body faded, being replaced by the first pangs of grief and anger. For a split second she blamed him. Had Jacob been stupid enough not to scout his gates traveling in something as slow as a battleship? The hand he had placed on her shoulder for comfort suddenly felt intrusive and she had to stop herself from shrugging him off. She knew he harbored the blame for this, it was the kind of man he was. 

“It wasn’t your fault; they knew what they signed up for.” she tried to conjure a confident tone, but the words were half-hearted and cold. Feeling a wave of emotion welling up inside her, she stood, moving back over towards the bed, creating some distance between them and hiding her face as she located the fresh set of clothes that had been set out for her. Using the task to give her somewhere to focus she slowly got dressed before taking a deep breath and finally turning to him again. “I need to check on what remains of my crew.” 

Picking up the data pad, she wiped away the tears that had started to form in her eyes. She couldn’t afford to be emotional here lest she take her anger out on him. 

Leaving Jacob alone in Tiger’s quarters, she walked into the corridor, navigating herself towards the medical bay, or that’s at least where she had intended to go. She instead found herself at a large set of cargo bay doors. Keying in a CRMSN access code, the doors slid open to reveal the ships hanger. Approaching the only shuttle, her hands slid along its smooth surface until she reached the door. Tiger would ensure what remained of her crew was safe. She needed time alone. 

Looking down at the navigational controls she realized they were already in Thakala, docked inside one of the X-Sense stations aboard Tiger's Zealot-class assault cruiser. Keying in a destination, the shuttle started it’s undock procedure and was soon on its way to the only inhabitable planet in the system – Thakala II. She had to get out of this metal coffin and feel real ground beneath her feet. 

 *** 

The beach was quiet and calm. A cool breeze coaxed the waves up onto the sand, the water lapping up over her boots and soaking the bottom of her pants as she crouched at the water's edge in a state of despair and anger. Her hand scooped up the wet sand, building small barriers against the water. Each time a new wave approached, the little sand wall would collapse, washed away as the liquid was sucked back into the sea.

Zac had always loved the ground, much more so than being in space. She had once asked him why he had chosen to serve Capsuleers, knowing the ever present danger that surrounded them and the rarity in which many baseliners even survived long enough to return home. Being the talented conversationalist he was, he had expertly avoided answering the question. 

Though she often watched them from space, it had been almost a year since Sahriah had stepped foot on a planet herself. Although Zac had asked her to join him on several occasions, she had always refused. There was always work to do, especially in CRMSN. Lord Torpedo expected much from his pilots and the Caldari blood in her was hardcoded to put duty before pleasure. Zac had never argued of course, stating there would ‘always be a next time’, but she had always sensed his disappointment. Now she would never get that chance. 

She had gone over the combat logs uploaded by the other CRMSN pilots three times now, wondering what she could have done to prevent Spectre’s loss. She could have taken the ship back towards the stargate, but doubted it would have survived long enough to wait out the aggression timers built into the gates system. Retreating any earlier and Jacob’s battleship might have succumbed to the damage she had been able to peel off him with her presence, causing the deaths of many more people than what had been sacrificed by her cruiser. She was scanning through the data a fourth time now; unwilling to admit there may not have been a way to save him.

Completely engrossed in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice the sound of a second shuttle flying overhead until the dying sound of the engine left a void in the ambience of the beach, finally snapping her out of her reverie. 

As she looked up, she noticed the shuttle had landed close to her own, in a grassy clearing some 100 meters from the sand. She could see a figure approaching and was immediately annoyed at the thought that Jacob would follow her down here. He knew she preferred to be alone to think after a poor engagement. 

Standing, she squinted her eyes against the glare of the overcast sky. It was a man, but not Jacob; he was taller, with a stockier build and darker hair. He moved slowly, almost stalking his way towards her the way a predator might approach its prey. She could tell he was muttering something, though was unable to make out the words. 

As he made his way onto the sand, Sahriah watched as he suddenly dropped to his knees, screaming out something unintelligible and flailing his arm out as if trying to hit some invisible foe. Alarmed, she frowned and started to walk towards him. He was still crouched in the sand as she neared, his back to her, clutching his head with his hands and yelling to himself. 

“Shut up!” he growled, his voice finally registering. She would have recognized it anywhere. 

Finally noticing her presence, he struggled to his feet, turning around to face her. Cold beads of sweat ran down his neck and his eyes were wild. She had seen him angry before, but nothing like what she saw in him now. Concerned and a little frightened, she opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the full force of Tiger’s body as his hand wrapped around her throat, throwing her backwards onto the sand; knocking the wind from her lungs and sending a shooting pain through her side. 

Sinking to his knees on top of her, he pinned her down between his legs, lowering his face to hers. “Why? Why did you come here?” he growled, his voice a threatening whisper; he spun around again, as if looking for someone else. “Shut up, for god’s sake! Stop hounding me!” He drew his blade, waving it around blindly as he looked back down at her. “You know where you are don’t you? This is the burial place of my WIFE!” 

Pushing her head further into the sand, he brought the blade down to her neck. “You’ve disturbed Illana!” 

Gasping for breath, she instinctively grasped at his wrist, holding back the blade against her throat, trying to understand what was happening. The sharp edge drew a trickle of blood that ran down her neck to stain the sand; he was furious and talking nonsense. She had heard rumors of his supposed insanity before but they had just been tales from frightened baseliners. Station crew talked, afterall many feared their kind; but people were prone to exaggeration, especially about men like Tiger who had a history of being rash and violent. He had never attacked her, at least...not like this. This was different, he lacked any of the calm cold composure he usually carried; his eyes were drifting, unfocused, almost as if he was looking past her. 

He continued his tirade, lowering his face back down to hers, voice quietening again as he pointed up towards the horizon behind them, towards the mountains. “Up there was our home. The home I shared with her. You shouldn’t have come here.” 

For what felt like an eternity Tiger sat poised above her, holding her down, the weight of him pressing on her stomach; making it hard to draw breath. Knowing she did not have the strength to stop him, she pleaded with him instead. 

“Tiger…please.” 

He continued to stare down at her, seemly oblivious to her voice as she waited for him to press the blade into her, but the moment didn’t come. Instead she felt the pressure on her ease. 

“No, I won’t!” he spoke again a little calmer, looking up in front of him. She realized he wasn't talking to her, and that thought made her panic.

Gently, she pressed her hand on his wrist, trying to get some distance between herself and the blade without spooking him while he remained distracted by whatever he was talking to. She was sweating now, his erratic behavior recalling Jacob's voice in her mind; something he had said to her many times. ‘He will kill you one day Sahriah’ 

“Tiger” she repeated louder this time, though her voice was shaky and unsure. She didn't want to believe Jacob could be right, not this time. “Forgive me…I never meant to trespass.” 

He didn’t look at her, but she felt his grip loosen on the blade. Instinct told her to try and throw him off; he didn’t look like he could be reasoned with, but she had to try. Keeping eye contact with him as much as she could, she slowly moved her fingers around his hand, getting some control over the weapon, desperately trying to think of something she could say to calm him.

She remembered back to when Tiger had first summoned her aboard his ship, the HMS Sabre, entering that room with the fake confidence of a pilot fresh from the academy, despite having already lost a pitched battle against his forces. He had sensed the fear in her, but it was never his ego, nor his temper that still scared her after these many months. It had been something else, something just below the surface; something unidentifiable until now. She remembered his first words to her, repeating them now in the hope he would remember. “You needn’t be so afraid. I could never hurt you.” 

Those words seemed to hit a chord in him, and he looked down at her, his face softening. 

“No” he answered, his voice gentler. “You’re right, I could never hurt you.” 

Realizing she was scared, he released his grip on the blade, moving his face down closer to her body, whispering to her quietly, making soft reassuring noises to calm her as he brought his finger up to stroke her cheek. “Shhhhh” 

With his head a few inches from her neck, he lowered his lips to her wound, gently licking at the cut. The feeling sent a shiver down her spine and her whole body tensed. Trying to turn her head away from him as much as she was able, she tightened her grip on the blade; the sudden change in his demeanor causing her to panic rather than relax. 

“No Tiger…” she pleaded again, flipping the blade around, digging it into the sand to gain some leverage, her other hand pushing at his chest trying to shove him back. “Let me up…please. Please...let’s just go back to the shuttle.” 

“Back to the shuttle?” he responded through gritted teeth, grabbing her hair and pulling her head to the side so he could whisper in her ear. “After all I’ve done for you!?” Reaching down to his belt, he pulled a blaster from its holster. Holding her still, he moved his lips to hers, kissing her forcefully, keeping a firm pressure on her body as he raised the blaster to the side of her head. “I loved you Illana!” 

Adrenaline surged through her. His words rippled through her mind, the sudden realization that he had been seeing and talking to Illana this whole time sparked an unexpected anger in her. Illana wasn't even alive, he had told her that himself.

‘Even the smallest of news services covered my wife's death. She was my reward….my payment to cease a war against an old friend of mine. I took his wife, and made her my own’

Her mind raced as she struggled against him. What the fuck was wrong with him? What kind of sick joke was this. Had he been manipulating her this entire time? Using her as a replacement for his dead wife? As a release for his guilt and desire? Or did he just want another pet, a prize, to make his own? Her anger turned into a blind rage as she mimicked his irrational thinking. She clutched the hilt of the blade firmly, a justification echoing in her mind, compelling her to use it against him; the desperate urge to get him off finally igniting a fight or flight response.

“Get off!” she screamed, trying to turn her head away from him; struggling against his hands as they attempted to hold her still in the sand. She could feel the cold metal of the blaster on her temple. He wouldn’t pull that trigger would he? No, he was just trying to frighten her into submission. The betrayal she felt grew with every passing thought. “I trusted you!” 

With one fluid movement she pulled the blade from the sand and embedded it into his shoulder, the sharp metal slicing into the muscle ligaments, stripping all the strength from his arm. She waited for the grasp around her throat to ease before she pulled it free; blood pouring from the wound, the weight on her body lifting as he sat up abruptly, screaming, his face contorted with pain. 

Taking the opportunity, she drew on all the strength in her body to throw him backwards off her. Thrusting herself forward, she pinned him now, plunging the blade into him again without thinking. “I'M NOT ILLANA!” she screamed, bringing the now reddened metal tip to rest above his chest, repeating her words louder, her voice cracking as tears formed in her eyes “I'M NOT ILLANA!” 

She leaned over his body, strands of hair falling over her face as she reached for his other hand, it still holding the blaster. She wrapped her hand around it, grasping it firmly, still screaming in a strained erratic voice. “Illana is DEAD Tiger, she killed herself remember? Or can’t you let go of it?” she mustered all the hate in her veins, the words spilling out of her without thought. “I’m not another one of your prizes!” 

Pinning his arm against the sand, she dug the blade into his elbow joint, forcing the blaster from his fingers as the pain distracted him. Every voice in her head urged her to shoot him with it. She could kill him right now. It would be so easy.

Standing up, she loomed over him as he whimpered in shock on the now red soaked sand. He looked up at her, trying to stand but failing, his eyes pained, as if a clarity had been returned to him. “Sahriah...Don’t leave me…Please.” 

A pang on doubt forced its way into her mind, snapping her out of her anger for a moment. She looked down at her hands, and then to his body; red liquid covering them both. She began to feel dizzy as a wave of nausea swept over her, realizing what had she just done and the consequences she knew would follow.

Wanting desperately to escape from this cursed planet, she looked up towards the shuttles. Dropping his blade she took the blaster and ran; not stopping to look back at him as he called out to her in pain, or as he begged her for help.