Golden orbs peered out through the transparisteel window, cigarette in his hands held between two clenched fingers, his hand trembling and his foot tapping on the padded floor frantically. There was a swirling of emotions in his chest, coupled with the fucking migraines and the—
He retched and expelled more purple bile, the liquid splashing down onto the floor, the one he’d just installed new carpets on last week. Veles doubted that would come out at the next wash. Of course, that was the last thing on his mind right now. The only things on his mind were wildfire and whatever had just happened in the past 24 hours. His mind reeled, but it was so goddamn hard to think with the pain that wracked his entire body. He’d refused to redose, decided it was better to brave the effects. He didn’t have many vials, either, so once he ran out he would be out permanently.
His eyes flicked to the vial on the table, and he clenched his teeth, exhaling through his nose. Cramps erupting in three locations on his body sent him back down onto the mattress, his arms draped desperately around his body in a steel grip that did nothing to alleviate it, the pain etched on the contracted muscles of his face, a croak just barely hissing out from his throat. Nothing helped. He’d tried three different kinds of spice, every type of alcohol he’d found, and even a few alchemical potions, but absolutely nothing changed.
Veles stood shakily and stumbled a few steps, his hand hitting the wall hard, the burns erupting with white-hot pain once again. He groaned, shifting his body so that his weight was supported by the wall, and then half-walked half-crawled toward the table. He put his chin on it, the vial mere centimeters away from his face. His heart skipped a beat, his pupils dilated, and then he roared and flipped the table, the sick excitement he felt from the drug sending a wave of rage through his body.
The vial flew, as well as the papers and various pens and trinkets on it, scattering around the common room, one of the table’s legs snapped and splintered. He just sat there, panting, alone in the silence of the shuttle. He turned, dragged his body a meter back toward the bed, grabbing his datapad off the mattress. Veles knew what he had to do, knew the steps to take, but he wouldn’t be able to do it alone, or in this state.
⮜
____MALOU
☎___ⓘ
—1654 primeday—
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( I know you probably hate me and completely understand. )
( I need your help. )
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( I know you probably hate me and completely understand. )
( I need your help. )
He grabbed the vial, popped it open, then poured it into a cup of soda. Veles looked down at the purple liquid in it for a moment, his face setting into a scowl. Then, he threw it back, pleasure surging through him, and raised himself to his feet. His mind cleared, his muscles no longer spasming and pained. "Engage hyperdrive," he sighed, and the pilot droid hit the switch, sending them into hyperspace.
He tugged his cloak closer to his body, eyes narrow and looking out from under the brim of his hood. Veles had sent Malou the coordinates, had filled her in, and admitted that she had no obligation to help him. Because she didn't. It was up to her whether she came, and she'd left him with no information or indication of whether she would, instead just reading the message and not replying. He'd shown up regardless, weakened as he was, because if she wasn't going to help him, he would venture into the caves himself and either get what he came for or perish, and end the tragic story of a scorned Sith Lord who'd be remembered for nothing more than his failures.
Veles had mentioned a date and time, and as the clock ticked, he could feel the hope drain out of him. Of course she wouldn't travel across half the Galaxy to come risk her life to help him. It had been stupid of him to think so. The Sith L—no, the Champion—pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his eyes scanning the landscape. One of the 55 moons of Qoribu, Jwilo had the potential of being the final piece in the puzzle. With an artifact that he’d tracked down to (hopefully) be within the cave, he’d be able to unlock the secrets that he needed to perfect the formula. Malou already knew most of the history of the Sith Lords involved, but the location of this holocron had eluded the two. It was, at this point, the only thing that kept him going, and he’d rather give his final breath in an effort to solve his mistake.
As the cigarette neared its end, he flicked the ash, took another drag, then put it out under his boot, giving the corridor carved in stone one more look. There was no one there, so Veles turned on his heel and began to make toward the entrance.
Then, he heard the sound of footsteps.
@lizziie
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