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"Revenge is a dish best served warm, and still conscious, so you can watch it squirm."
You are all a cancer.
Spreading your lies. Your foolish ideals! Your....cruelty.
Hatred and evil spreads like a wildfire from one to the other, slowly withering your souls...
I've had enough. It's time to cut out the disease.
Because the only way...to truly restore peace to this universe...is to destroy the reality of it.
Eradicate the plague you've all become.
From this moment on...none of you are safe.
SEQUENCE ONE
Age Nine
Lids parted to reveal a gaze of molten saphire, as the child lifted it's arms to his mother's neck, in a sure gesture of affection. A soft whisper from the woman into her son's ear tugged a playful giggle from his lips, before the child went scurrying off with a smile of glee, to play amongst the grasses of one of Naboo's meadows. A vacation was what his family had needed, as his father had told him. It would be fun, Thamis had been informed. Around him, little insects leapt from the plants, of which he examined curiously, picking at the flowers to admire their vivid hues, occasionally pouncing at one of the critters moving through the grass a few feet away. But as usual for most boys of his age, the child soon felt boredom poking at his mind, and stood to brush off his knees, fleeing from some invisible predator until he reached the bank of a brook, passing by at a sluggish rate and babbling in conversation with the creatures that swam within. Kneeling by it's edge, with waves lapping at the toe of his shoes, small fingers wrapped around a rough stone, that Thamis sent flying into the light blue, to shatter it's surface like glass. The stone sank to the bottom, as anyone would expect it to. When he knelt to pick up another, intent on agitating the brook further, a glimmering object caught his eye, fascinating, as most small things were to children.
A shell lay, partly covered in the golden sand. It's surface was of smooth ivory, wrapped in a violet web and reflective of the sunlight. Moving to pluck the shell from it's resting spot, Thamis dipped it into the water to clear it of grit, and stood to admire it for a moment before an idea bloomed, much like a flower, within his excited mind. He'd have to show his parents. His mother first, since she stood nearby, and his father, whom had gone searching for a gift, he was sure, for Thamis's upcoming birthday, would be graced with the shell's appearance last. Sprinting clumsily through the tall grass to his mother's last know destination, his pupils flitted about, intent on finding her slim frame. But when he reached the spot of her last appearance, or what Thamis thought to have last seen her, there was not even a trace. Surely, she would not have left him alone in the wild? Surely she was somewhere, watching him from afar with a protective gleam in her eyes? Or perhaps she was playing a game, awaiting Thamis to draw near so she could leap at him from the grass?
"Mother?" His young voice rang out in an frightened tone, light with youth, and possessing an innocent ring. If it was a game his mother was playing, it was not one he wished to go on for much longer, lest he break down into tears, feeling lost and alone. When there was no reply within the next few moments, and after his head had turned about every which way in search of the woman, Thamis called out again, this time, in a much less formal tone. "Mom!" The feathered avians replied with their song, and the bugs replied with their chirps and whistles. Even the wind replied, with an eerie whisper and a stroke of his features. But no sweet voice, which Thamis had cherished most during his short life, would answer his call, and as wetness gave his eyes a heavy feel, the first of many tears slid down his cheek, leaving a red stain on the soft, unblemished flesh. His legs grew weak, as Thamis found himself sitting in the grass, hiding from the dangers he had been unaware of until now. But as time went by, no matter how short the span, the feeling of betrayal and anger had wormed it's way into his thoughts. Why would his mother just abandon him like that? What was so much more important than him that she had to run off? Didn't she love him, or had it all been a lie?
"Thamis!" The voice called out, famillier, but not the one he had been looking for. Standing hastilly, and quite clumsily, Thamis shot towards his father's voice with a slight feeling of relief, sighting his form sprinting full speed through the grass. The two nearly collided as the man took up Thamis's body in his arms and made quickly for the town where their ship awaited them. Grasping his father tightly, with his fingers burrowing into the man's shirt and the wind whipping through his black hair, the boy looked desperatly for the form of his mother running behind them, but she was still nowhere to be found, and the feeling of dread had returned despite his father's strong presence. "Where's mom?" Thamis nearly had to shout with the speed of which they were traveling. His father, a former Jedi, enhanced his movements with the force. It was something he had often demonstrated to Thamis, but he could never manage using it, despite his father believing that he was a force sensative. When he recieved no answer to his question, the child repeated it, more forcefully this time. But his father could only blink the tears from his eyes and shake his head. "We're going home, Thamis." He finally replied in a grim tone. Taking this as a sign, Thamis offered a bit of a smile. "She's on the ship, waiting for us!" He finally concluded, rather proud of himself. But his father shook his head again. The boy's mother wouldn't be on the ship, and despite the pain of realization he would surely thrust upon his son, the answer had to come, or Thamis would find only devestation upon reaching the ship and discovering this on his own.
"No Thamis." The father began in a shaking voice, but there was something there, mixing with the grief. It was rage. "She's not on the ship." The boy looked at his father in confusion for a moment, before the man finally decided to clear it all up, despite the difficulty he found in forming the words. "Your mother is dead." As the shock of reality passed, the boy's wails seemed to be heard from miles.
Ending Memory...
Who am I...?
I don't even know anymore.
Age Fourteen
Five years ago, I lost my mother. I remember it like yesterday. The pain, the loneliness the utter devastation of my life. The scars will never fade, I'm sure of it. How does one cope, with the most precious thing in life being torn away from them? How could they ever recover? It was supposed to get better. I was supposed to get better. But instead, I got worse. I feel numb, like my ability to feel was stolen with the life of my mother. I am incapable of loving. I've pushed my own father away, until I could no longer hold him in any precious regard, so that when he too should pass so suddenly and unfairly from my life, the sting will be duller, and less painful. An anger has been festering deep within, like an infection of my very soul, eating away at my humanity. I've supressed it for so long. How much longer can I keep such a monster hidden? One day, the cage will break, I am sure, and with it, I too will break. Consumed by the rage, and hatred that I fight so hard to conceal each day of my miserable life. Is it wrong to hope for death? Even if I am too cowardly to bring it upon myself.
I don't understand. Why me? Am I hated? Am I cursed? At school, I am a freak, they don't understand, but no bully would dare touch me anymore. The last was subject to my rage. But he had only gotten a taste, before I had been pulled off. Is it wrong to wish death upon others? If I had the means of doing so, I'm sure that the entire class would have been forced to face my wrath. And then my own life would have ended, if I even had a life at all. Often I wondered this. Was there such a thing as a soul? Did I possess one? Or was I an empty shell, a puppet for some greater entity? Was it written in the books of fate that I should suffer? What is my purpose?
I still don't know how she died. I asked my father, but he would provide no answers. As if he had forgotten the ordeal. How? How could one forget such a terrible event? How could he have simply berid himself of her memory? He goes about his life and mine a if nothing had happened, pushing me to study and learn from his knowledge. I will continue digging. One day, he will give in, and I will know the truth.
Age Fifteen
I finally know. After stabbing at my father mercilessly for the past year, he has finally revealed the secret to me. The story of my mother's death. Coruscant was known for it's greatness. I never expected to hear of the filth my father spoke about. A long time ago, before I was born, my parents were desperate. Housed by a group of corrupt officials, who also happen to be leading figures of the black market, and known by the underworld to participate in other dangerous activities, the first mistake was made. At the time of rent, as the couple were newly wed and naive to the world, my parents had no idea what they had been getting themselves into. The rent was cheap, unsually so. It was the first sign they failed to notice. As time past, the price grew higher, as the men that had rented out the home claimed to struggle in their daily lives with the meager cash they recieved. Eventually, the price grew too high for my parents to pay, though the men insisted that they could continue living there, seeming certain that my parents would come up with the money, while secretly knowing that it would never come. Eventually, the debt grew so high, that my parents were confronted, and threatened. The crime lords demanded service from them, expecting them to fall to their kness and obey their every command, but quickly discovering that the jobs the crime lords offered were not ones they wished to partake in, my parents fled. It was the logical choice, at the time. But it cost my mother her life, when the action enraged the criminals, and over the years, they spent hunting down my family.
The vacation to Naboo had been a last second effort to throw the men of our tail, but it was too late. In our time there, we were discovered, and while the men, bounty hunters, who killed my mother payed with their own lives, taken by my father's hand, my mother's could never be restored, and neither could mine.
Age Sixteen
I think...I finally undertand. All the hatred, all the pain...it all comes from one place. Us. Sentient races, given, for the strangest of reasons that I simply cannot discover, the freedom of will and thought. In the years since our creation, there has never been peace, for as long as two different people live, both capable of emotion, and thought, there would always be anger, and cruelty. We created hatred by creating love, just as light created darkness, and good created evil. If only we had never existed. If only there was no reality. Then, there would be peace. True peace. Because there would be nothing left. No love to spread hate, no belief to spread anger and offense, no argument to spread war. I cannot imagine what cruel, or foolish entity would give life to such treacherous creatures. Implanting within us, at our very time of birth, a terminal disease that would grow and prosper within our own hearts, until the red of our organs faded to black, eventually turning us into fiends.
Age Seventeen
I have decided that I can remain here no longer. I must act on my beliefs. The universe is sick, and in need of a cure. I explain my needs to father, and he listens with the occasional shake of his head. I don't think he understands, but he releases me anyway. I have spent my time since my discovery preparing for this. I learned a few tricks, some skills with the force, a bit of combat, and I learned from my father, the wonders of technology. And I studied hard, training myself, forcing knowledge into my head. But it wasn't good enough. My father is old, and incapable of teaching me what he could have years ago. I need to find a better teacher. But I'm not left with nothing, departing from my home. My father has granted me all that I need for my travels, it was the least he could do. A great suit of armor, designed by my father's own hand, as well as his ship, The Talon, also a design of my father. I was also given a vibrosword, to protect myself, and several hundred credits. And so, the next morning, I left, keeping my new gifts close, my thoughts adamant.
-END OF SEQUENCE ONE-
I cannot deny my own sickness of the soul...but at least, I know how to cure it.
SEQUENCE TWO
Age Eighteen
I wandered about the galaxy, wondering if I would ever find what I was looking for. I didn't bother with the populated planets. I wasn't in the mood for a social life. The outer rim was my home for a good year and a half, until I found Hoth. I should have expected it. Such a desolate planet, covered in ice and snow. I'm not sure what drew me there, but the snow and ice was certainly fascinating. I had never felt a cold so vicicious. I circled Hoth's skies for many days until I spotted something quite...unusual. A man, watching me from the mouth of a cave in a massive glacier. Taking it as an invitation, I landed on the large shelf just outside the entrance. The man had dissapeared inside, and so I followed him. And I found what I was looking for. A brotherhood of sorts, that had long remained hidden, and would never be recorded within Hoth's history. There were only a few men here, and most were old, but wise. Escorted to it's leader, I discussed my goals and it was agreed that I would be trained. None of them were force sensative, but I could always seek a master in that, later. I was warned that the training would be harsh, and that there was every possibility that I could loose my life. But I was willing to take the risk. It was all I had, or wanted to live for. And so my life as a warrior began.
Age Twenty One
They had not lied when they warned me of the danger, and harshness of their training. But I pushed through it all. I survived. And I still wasn't even close to matching the skills of everyone else there. I learned the art of war and subterfuge. I built my body up as much as I could. I learned to kill, and to protect myself. But most of all, I learned to survive. Now I would face my first assesstment. A night on Hoth, all by myself. If I should perish, my body would be buried in the snow and lost forever, and I, Thamis Galisdoren, the broken son of a shattered family, would be forgotten, along with all my struggles. But this was what I had been training for, and while the real thing was certainly different from any simulation, I kept confidence, and told myself that I would survive.
I set out at dawn, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, so distant from the frozen planet. The first day was uneventful. I wandered aimlessly, expecting something to happen. As the day fell to night, I realized all my preperations had been wrong. I thought I could survive without food, but the frigid air was sapping the strength right out of me. My suit offered some comfort from the cold, but it wasn't meant to protect me from such harsh temperatures. I dug myself a hole in the snow and prepared for a painful night, of which I did not expect to wake up from. But when I next opened my eyes, and found feeling still in my arms to uncover the snow from my body, light shone down on my features, and brought a small smirk of satisfaction. Luckily, Hoth wasn't a planet that was known for it's great majority of creatures, and on my journey back to the ice fortress that was my home, I met no hostile resistance, and was welcomed back with warm praise.
Age Twenty Two
For years, the only companions I have known were the hand full men I trained with. But now, I would finally see some new faces. A pirate ship had crashed nearby, badly damaged, though by what I did not know, nor did I know what pirates were doing near Hoth. But with my vibrosword in hand, my companions and I set out to examine this potential threat. When we reached the ship, we found most of the crew to be dead. But there were a few survivors. We cut them down when they showed aggression. It was a simple task. After all my training, the combat almost felt natural, and it had been a most enjoyable experiance. I pocketed some items that interested me, including some thousand credits and a pair of Carbines that caught my eye. There was also supplies on the ship. Food excited us. There was little to go around before, but now, we celebrated the crash with a buffet of sorts, even if most of the food was canned. Since none of us had been badly injured in the fighting, we slept easy that night. It was the first decent sleep I had had in years.
Age Twenty Three
I've discovered the location of the men who killed my mother. Turns out, the man who had trained me has known for quite some time, though how, I am still not sure. Releasing me from my studies, I made my way to Coruscant. It was a long trip, and one I had to make many stops on, The Talon held up nicely, and I met little aggression on the way. Upon reaching Coruscant, I was eager, and I sought out these criminals in the underbelly of the city they believed they ran like a castle. It didn't take long to find them. I had already been given all of the information I needed. They were holed up in the back of some tavern. After threatening to kill the bartender and causing quite the scene, I was allowed passage into their room, interrupting one of their meetings. I could feel all my rage, and all my hatred boiling inside of my blood. But I was in no hurry. I would savor that moment.
"You thought you were safe...you thought you were untouchable." The suprise on their faces was badly hidden. But their features quickly shifted to display other emotions at my words. Fear and anger were the most common faces I picked out, and I glared at scum that had ruined my life, all settled down in a neat little circle. "Miserable fools. None of you are safe." I informed them coldly as I advanced. "You're all diseased." A shout from the corner of the room alerted me to the man that was attacking. My vibrosword sliced across his stomach in a clean line, and he fell with a grunt to the ground as his fluids pooled on the floor. "And I'm the doctor." None of them would ever see the light of day again.
-END OF SEQUENCE TWO-
The Sith are my tools. They provide me with the means of achieving my goals.
But they become tainted with the blood of those I operate on.
For now, though, they are safe. I still have use for them.
SEQUENCE THREE
Age Twenty Three Continued
I have decided to join the Sith rather than returning to Hoth. Their victory over the Jedi and gradual domination of the galexy has caught my attention. I know that, to them, I may be of little value now, but I hope to learn. I hope to build onto my abilities, and learn more of what I can become. My veangence over the crime lords had not been enough. It had done nothing to diminish my hatred for the universe. With the Sith, perhaps I can gain the power to do real good. Perhaps, I can achieve my goals. I know that I have more harsh years to come, but I will face them as I have faced everything else...with an iron chin. Perhaps, in the future, I would have made a real name for myself.
A Sith assassin took immediate favor in me. Guinevere, was her name, and power rolled from her seductive body in intoxicating waves. I wanted it. I needed it. The possibilities beckoned for me to come forth and bathe in the darkness. It's touch was one I accepted heartily, the first caress I had enjoyed since my mother's death. Welcomed by the Sith, I had become a devil, willingly chained in the torturous depths of a fiery oblivion. I immediately sought further power, so that I might become strong enough to reach my goals. STARS offered the extra training I needed, and so I thrust myself upon them readily, awaiting the rewards I was sure would come, and establishing myself among the others as an acolyte to be feared.
You are all a cancer.
Spreading your lies. Your foolish ideals! Your....cruelty.
Hatred and evil spreads like a wildfire from one to the other, slowly withering your souls...
I've had enough. It's time to cut out the disease.
Because the only way...to truly restore peace to this universe...is to destroy the reality of it.
Eradicate the plague you've all become.
From this moment on...none of you are safe.
SEQUENCE ONE
Age Nine
Lids parted to reveal a gaze of molten saphire, as the child lifted it's arms to his mother's neck, in a sure gesture of affection. A soft whisper from the woman into her son's ear tugged a playful giggle from his lips, before the child went scurrying off with a smile of glee, to play amongst the grasses of one of Naboo's meadows. A vacation was what his family had needed, as his father had told him. It would be fun, Thamis had been informed. Around him, little insects leapt from the plants, of which he examined curiously, picking at the flowers to admire their vivid hues, occasionally pouncing at one of the critters moving through the grass a few feet away. But as usual for most boys of his age, the child soon felt boredom poking at his mind, and stood to brush off his knees, fleeing from some invisible predator until he reached the bank of a brook, passing by at a sluggish rate and babbling in conversation with the creatures that swam within. Kneeling by it's edge, with waves lapping at the toe of his shoes, small fingers wrapped around a rough stone, that Thamis sent flying into the light blue, to shatter it's surface like glass. The stone sank to the bottom, as anyone would expect it to. When he knelt to pick up another, intent on agitating the brook further, a glimmering object caught his eye, fascinating, as most small things were to children.
A shell lay, partly covered in the golden sand. It's surface was of smooth ivory, wrapped in a violet web and reflective of the sunlight. Moving to pluck the shell from it's resting spot, Thamis dipped it into the water to clear it of grit, and stood to admire it for a moment before an idea bloomed, much like a flower, within his excited mind. He'd have to show his parents. His mother first, since she stood nearby, and his father, whom had gone searching for a gift, he was sure, for Thamis's upcoming birthday, would be graced with the shell's appearance last. Sprinting clumsily through the tall grass to his mother's last know destination, his pupils flitted about, intent on finding her slim frame. But when he reached the spot of her last appearance, or what Thamis thought to have last seen her, there was not even a trace. Surely, she would not have left him alone in the wild? Surely she was somewhere, watching him from afar with a protective gleam in her eyes? Or perhaps she was playing a game, awaiting Thamis to draw near so she could leap at him from the grass?
"Mother?" His young voice rang out in an frightened tone, light with youth, and possessing an innocent ring. If it was a game his mother was playing, it was not one he wished to go on for much longer, lest he break down into tears, feeling lost and alone. When there was no reply within the next few moments, and after his head had turned about every which way in search of the woman, Thamis called out again, this time, in a much less formal tone. "Mom!" The feathered avians replied with their song, and the bugs replied with their chirps and whistles. Even the wind replied, with an eerie whisper and a stroke of his features. But no sweet voice, which Thamis had cherished most during his short life, would answer his call, and as wetness gave his eyes a heavy feel, the first of many tears slid down his cheek, leaving a red stain on the soft, unblemished flesh. His legs grew weak, as Thamis found himself sitting in the grass, hiding from the dangers he had been unaware of until now. But as time went by, no matter how short the span, the feeling of betrayal and anger had wormed it's way into his thoughts. Why would his mother just abandon him like that? What was so much more important than him that she had to run off? Didn't she love him, or had it all been a lie?
"Thamis!" The voice called out, famillier, but not the one he had been looking for. Standing hastilly, and quite clumsily, Thamis shot towards his father's voice with a slight feeling of relief, sighting his form sprinting full speed through the grass. The two nearly collided as the man took up Thamis's body in his arms and made quickly for the town where their ship awaited them. Grasping his father tightly, with his fingers burrowing into the man's shirt and the wind whipping through his black hair, the boy looked desperatly for the form of his mother running behind them, but she was still nowhere to be found, and the feeling of dread had returned despite his father's strong presence. "Where's mom?" Thamis nearly had to shout with the speed of which they were traveling. His father, a former Jedi, enhanced his movements with the force. It was something he had often demonstrated to Thamis, but he could never manage using it, despite his father believing that he was a force sensative. When he recieved no answer to his question, the child repeated it, more forcefully this time. But his father could only blink the tears from his eyes and shake his head. "We're going home, Thamis." He finally replied in a grim tone. Taking this as a sign, Thamis offered a bit of a smile. "She's on the ship, waiting for us!" He finally concluded, rather proud of himself. But his father shook his head again. The boy's mother wouldn't be on the ship, and despite the pain of realization he would surely thrust upon his son, the answer had to come, or Thamis would find only devestation upon reaching the ship and discovering this on his own.
"No Thamis." The father began in a shaking voice, but there was something there, mixing with the grief. It was rage. "She's not on the ship." The boy looked at his father in confusion for a moment, before the man finally decided to clear it all up, despite the difficulty he found in forming the words. "Your mother is dead." As the shock of reality passed, the boy's wails seemed to be heard from miles.
Ending Memory...
Who am I...?
I don't even know anymore.
Age Fourteen
Five years ago, I lost my mother. I remember it like yesterday. The pain, the loneliness the utter devastation of my life. The scars will never fade, I'm sure of it. How does one cope, with the most precious thing in life being torn away from them? How could they ever recover? It was supposed to get better. I was supposed to get better. But instead, I got worse. I feel numb, like my ability to feel was stolen with the life of my mother. I am incapable of loving. I've pushed my own father away, until I could no longer hold him in any precious regard, so that when he too should pass so suddenly and unfairly from my life, the sting will be duller, and less painful. An anger has been festering deep within, like an infection of my very soul, eating away at my humanity. I've supressed it for so long. How much longer can I keep such a monster hidden? One day, the cage will break, I am sure, and with it, I too will break. Consumed by the rage, and hatred that I fight so hard to conceal each day of my miserable life. Is it wrong to hope for death? Even if I am too cowardly to bring it upon myself.
I don't understand. Why me? Am I hated? Am I cursed? At school, I am a freak, they don't understand, but no bully would dare touch me anymore. The last was subject to my rage. But he had only gotten a taste, before I had been pulled off. Is it wrong to wish death upon others? If I had the means of doing so, I'm sure that the entire class would have been forced to face my wrath. And then my own life would have ended, if I even had a life at all. Often I wondered this. Was there such a thing as a soul? Did I possess one? Or was I an empty shell, a puppet for some greater entity? Was it written in the books of fate that I should suffer? What is my purpose?
I still don't know how she died. I asked my father, but he would provide no answers. As if he had forgotten the ordeal. How? How could one forget such a terrible event? How could he have simply berid himself of her memory? He goes about his life and mine a if nothing had happened, pushing me to study and learn from his knowledge. I will continue digging. One day, he will give in, and I will know the truth.
Age Fifteen
I finally know. After stabbing at my father mercilessly for the past year, he has finally revealed the secret to me. The story of my mother's death. Coruscant was known for it's greatness. I never expected to hear of the filth my father spoke about. A long time ago, before I was born, my parents were desperate. Housed by a group of corrupt officials, who also happen to be leading figures of the black market, and known by the underworld to participate in other dangerous activities, the first mistake was made. At the time of rent, as the couple were newly wed and naive to the world, my parents had no idea what they had been getting themselves into. The rent was cheap, unsually so. It was the first sign they failed to notice. As time past, the price grew higher, as the men that had rented out the home claimed to struggle in their daily lives with the meager cash they recieved. Eventually, the price grew too high for my parents to pay, though the men insisted that they could continue living there, seeming certain that my parents would come up with the money, while secretly knowing that it would never come. Eventually, the debt grew so high, that my parents were confronted, and threatened. The crime lords demanded service from them, expecting them to fall to their kness and obey their every command, but quickly discovering that the jobs the crime lords offered were not ones they wished to partake in, my parents fled. It was the logical choice, at the time. But it cost my mother her life, when the action enraged the criminals, and over the years, they spent hunting down my family.
The vacation to Naboo had been a last second effort to throw the men of our tail, but it was too late. In our time there, we were discovered, and while the men, bounty hunters, who killed my mother payed with their own lives, taken by my father's hand, my mother's could never be restored, and neither could mine.
Age Sixteen
I think...I finally undertand. All the hatred, all the pain...it all comes from one place. Us. Sentient races, given, for the strangest of reasons that I simply cannot discover, the freedom of will and thought. In the years since our creation, there has never been peace, for as long as two different people live, both capable of emotion, and thought, there would always be anger, and cruelty. We created hatred by creating love, just as light created darkness, and good created evil. If only we had never existed. If only there was no reality. Then, there would be peace. True peace. Because there would be nothing left. No love to spread hate, no belief to spread anger and offense, no argument to spread war. I cannot imagine what cruel, or foolish entity would give life to such treacherous creatures. Implanting within us, at our very time of birth, a terminal disease that would grow and prosper within our own hearts, until the red of our organs faded to black, eventually turning us into fiends.
Age Seventeen
I have decided that I can remain here no longer. I must act on my beliefs. The universe is sick, and in need of a cure. I explain my needs to father, and he listens with the occasional shake of his head. I don't think he understands, but he releases me anyway. I have spent my time since my discovery preparing for this. I learned a few tricks, some skills with the force, a bit of combat, and I learned from my father, the wonders of technology. And I studied hard, training myself, forcing knowledge into my head. But it wasn't good enough. My father is old, and incapable of teaching me what he could have years ago. I need to find a better teacher. But I'm not left with nothing, departing from my home. My father has granted me all that I need for my travels, it was the least he could do. A great suit of armor, designed by my father's own hand, as well as his ship, The Talon, also a design of my father. I was also given a vibrosword, to protect myself, and several hundred credits. And so, the next morning, I left, keeping my new gifts close, my thoughts adamant.
-END OF SEQUENCE ONE-
I cannot deny my own sickness of the soul...but at least, I know how to cure it.
SEQUENCE TWO
Age Eighteen
I wandered about the galaxy, wondering if I would ever find what I was looking for. I didn't bother with the populated planets. I wasn't in the mood for a social life. The outer rim was my home for a good year and a half, until I found Hoth. I should have expected it. Such a desolate planet, covered in ice and snow. I'm not sure what drew me there, but the snow and ice was certainly fascinating. I had never felt a cold so vicicious. I circled Hoth's skies for many days until I spotted something quite...unusual. A man, watching me from the mouth of a cave in a massive glacier. Taking it as an invitation, I landed on the large shelf just outside the entrance. The man had dissapeared inside, and so I followed him. And I found what I was looking for. A brotherhood of sorts, that had long remained hidden, and would never be recorded within Hoth's history. There were only a few men here, and most were old, but wise. Escorted to it's leader, I discussed my goals and it was agreed that I would be trained. None of them were force sensative, but I could always seek a master in that, later. I was warned that the training would be harsh, and that there was every possibility that I could loose my life. But I was willing to take the risk. It was all I had, or wanted to live for. And so my life as a warrior began.
Age Twenty One
They had not lied when they warned me of the danger, and harshness of their training. But I pushed through it all. I survived. And I still wasn't even close to matching the skills of everyone else there. I learned the art of war and subterfuge. I built my body up as much as I could. I learned to kill, and to protect myself. But most of all, I learned to survive. Now I would face my first assesstment. A night on Hoth, all by myself. If I should perish, my body would be buried in the snow and lost forever, and I, Thamis Galisdoren, the broken son of a shattered family, would be forgotten, along with all my struggles. But this was what I had been training for, and while the real thing was certainly different from any simulation, I kept confidence, and told myself that I would survive.
I set out at dawn, just as the sun peeked over the horizon, so distant from the frozen planet. The first day was uneventful. I wandered aimlessly, expecting something to happen. As the day fell to night, I realized all my preperations had been wrong. I thought I could survive without food, but the frigid air was sapping the strength right out of me. My suit offered some comfort from the cold, but it wasn't meant to protect me from such harsh temperatures. I dug myself a hole in the snow and prepared for a painful night, of which I did not expect to wake up from. But when I next opened my eyes, and found feeling still in my arms to uncover the snow from my body, light shone down on my features, and brought a small smirk of satisfaction. Luckily, Hoth wasn't a planet that was known for it's great majority of creatures, and on my journey back to the ice fortress that was my home, I met no hostile resistance, and was welcomed back with warm praise.
Age Twenty Two
For years, the only companions I have known were the hand full men I trained with. But now, I would finally see some new faces. A pirate ship had crashed nearby, badly damaged, though by what I did not know, nor did I know what pirates were doing near Hoth. But with my vibrosword in hand, my companions and I set out to examine this potential threat. When we reached the ship, we found most of the crew to be dead. But there were a few survivors. We cut them down when they showed aggression. It was a simple task. After all my training, the combat almost felt natural, and it had been a most enjoyable experiance. I pocketed some items that interested me, including some thousand credits and a pair of Carbines that caught my eye. There was also supplies on the ship. Food excited us. There was little to go around before, but now, we celebrated the crash with a buffet of sorts, even if most of the food was canned. Since none of us had been badly injured in the fighting, we slept easy that night. It was the first decent sleep I had had in years.
Age Twenty Three
I've discovered the location of the men who killed my mother. Turns out, the man who had trained me has known for quite some time, though how, I am still not sure. Releasing me from my studies, I made my way to Coruscant. It was a long trip, and one I had to make many stops on, The Talon held up nicely, and I met little aggression on the way. Upon reaching Coruscant, I was eager, and I sought out these criminals in the underbelly of the city they believed they ran like a castle. It didn't take long to find them. I had already been given all of the information I needed. They were holed up in the back of some tavern. After threatening to kill the bartender and causing quite the scene, I was allowed passage into their room, interrupting one of their meetings. I could feel all my rage, and all my hatred boiling inside of my blood. But I was in no hurry. I would savor that moment.
"You thought you were safe...you thought you were untouchable." The suprise on their faces was badly hidden. But their features quickly shifted to display other emotions at my words. Fear and anger were the most common faces I picked out, and I glared at scum that had ruined my life, all settled down in a neat little circle. "Miserable fools. None of you are safe." I informed them coldly as I advanced. "You're all diseased." A shout from the corner of the room alerted me to the man that was attacking. My vibrosword sliced across his stomach in a clean line, and he fell with a grunt to the ground as his fluids pooled on the floor. "And I'm the doctor." None of them would ever see the light of day again.
-END OF SEQUENCE TWO-
The Sith are my tools. They provide me with the means of achieving my goals.
But they become tainted with the blood of those I operate on.
For now, though, they are safe. I still have use for them.
SEQUENCE THREE
Age Twenty Three Continued
I have decided to join the Sith rather than returning to Hoth. Their victory over the Jedi and gradual domination of the galexy has caught my attention. I know that, to them, I may be of little value now, but I hope to learn. I hope to build onto my abilities, and learn more of what I can become. My veangence over the crime lords had not been enough. It had done nothing to diminish my hatred for the universe. With the Sith, perhaps I can gain the power to do real good. Perhaps, I can achieve my goals. I know that I have more harsh years to come, but I will face them as I have faced everything else...with an iron chin. Perhaps, in the future, I would have made a real name for myself.
A Sith assassin took immediate favor in me. Guinevere, was her name, and power rolled from her seductive body in intoxicating waves. I wanted it. I needed it. The possibilities beckoned for me to come forth and bathe in the darkness. It's touch was one I accepted heartily, the first caress I had enjoyed since my mother's death. Welcomed by the Sith, I had become a devil, willingly chained in the torturous depths of a fiery oblivion. I immediately sought further power, so that I might become strong enough to reach my goals. STARS offered the extra training I needed, and so I thrust myself upon them readily, awaiting the rewards I was sure would come, and establishing myself among the others as an acolyte to be feared.
"You left a hole where my heart should be."
NAME: Thamis Galisdoren
FACTION: Sith
SUBFACTION: STARS
RANK: Acolyte
MASTER: Guinevere
SPECIALIZATION: Assassin
SPECIES: Human
AGE: 23
GENDER: Male
HEIGHT: 6'2”
WEIGHT: 224 lbs
EYES: Blue
HAIR: Black
SKIN: White
CREDITS: 1,000
PREFERRED HAND: Right and left. Mostly right.
DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scars lace his body, but nothing that's very distinctive.
FORCE SENSITIVE: Yes.
STRENGTH
◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Thamis is nearly at the peak of human ability from his years of training. Although the more naturally strong races could easily surpass him, his strength in comparison to other humans is admirable.
DEXTERITY
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Thamis is extremely agile when compared to most other humans, but next to more athletic races, his agility is simply admirable, but not equal.
CONSTITUTION
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Thamis will die just as easilly as any other human, but he has built a high resistance to pain.
INTELLIGENCE
◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
He can only be described as having a genius level intellect, having studied in various subjects throughout his life, he has grown quite intelligent, though perhaps not so much as he could be, and not near the level of those who live for hundreds of years. But to others of his mental capacity, he's certainly more knowledgeable than most.
WISDOM
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A decent bit of wisdom as most tacticians have.
CHARISMA
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Thamis has shown to have quite the charming appearance and personality when he's looking for something, or trying to manipulate people. He's also an excellent diplomat, and has a way with words.
FORCE POWERS
Telekinesis ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Push ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Pull ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Sense ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Barrier ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Stealth ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Cloak ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Lightning ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Wracking Energy ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
Force Heal ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
LIGHTSABER/SWORD FORMS
Ataru. ◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘◘
SKILLS:
♦Tactician. Well versed in combat and war, Thamis has developed a tactical mind that he operates both in and out of combat. His sharp mind allows him to formulate plans on the move, often saving his life in pressing situations, though he often relies more on reflex in a fight.
♦Adaptive. Thamis is extremely adaptive, and can adjust to nearly any situation, even sudden ones. This often gives him the advantage in battle after a change of background.
♦Physical Ability. At near peak condition due to his years of training, Thamis surpasses most human athletes.
♦Escape Artist. A master at getting out of sticky situations. He will find even the smallest flaws in a seemingly unescapable situation, and though he might not always succeed, his skill in escaping is certainly one that should be taken into account.
♦Technology. Thamis has always worked well in technology, building, enhancing, changing, and fixing things is a favored hobby of his. He could probably make a bomb out of even the simplest of materials. Thamis carries and uses with him an arsenal of various gadgets to help in any situation he might think of.
♦Strong Willpower. Thamis has a strong willpower that isn't easilly broken. No matter how hopeless it seems, he's not likely to give up until he's killed.
♦Charm and Manipulation. He's a handsome man with a way with words, though he rarily finds the need for using his charm, unless he's trying to manipulate someone. Those that know him, however, will likely find little attraction. Thamis is a compulsive liar, and he knows how to do it. His expert ability at lying also makes him a prime manipulator. He can also be quite the diplomat.
♦Intellect.A genius, for sure. If he doesn't know it, he'll figure it out. Thamis is adept in science (biology, anatomy, forensics, astronomy, and chemistry), math, and history. He's an excellent navigator, investigator, and chemist. Thamis is a quick learner, and quite cunning. He is also good at reading people, and will read most companions like a book. A simple twitch of the lips is enough to give Thamis a general idea of what's going on in someone's mind.
♦Photographic Memory. If there's one thing Thamis doesn't do, it's forget a face.
♦Stealth. Thamis has been trained, and is adept in stealth. If he doesn't want to be seen, chances are you won't see him. He's great at espionage, and sabotage.
♦Medic. Thamis has trained in first aid and other medical applications. While no doctor, he's capable of mending most small injuries and sickness with the proper supplies, though horrendous wounds are beyond his skill level. His knowledge in anatomy and chemistry might come into play here.
WEAKNESSESS:
♦Untrusting. He's extremely unstrusting, which can put him in dangerous situations, often when he insists on handling a situation on his own.♦Stubborn. This man won't listen to any man but himself. If he believes he's doing it right, there's no sense in trying to stop him unless you've got an amazing argument that wound somehow prove him wrong, and in those cases, he'll probably be grumpy for quite some time afterward.
♦Control Freak. Thamis likes to be in control, and when he's not, he gets angry. Of course, he'll always try to find a way to justify his lack of dominance in a situation, but often, his anger will drive him to recklessness, which could get him killed.
♦Risky. While the impulse is not overpowering, Thamis likes to take risks, and will often taunt or mock opponents, as well as act dangerously.
EQUIPMENT:
♦Armor. Galisdoren Suit ♦Mask. An oxygen mask with a filtering system. While not part of his armor, it's worn beneath the cowl, and can be deployed with the touch of a button, to fall over his nose and mouth, secured at the chin.
♦Belt. A large belt around his waist where Thamis carries most of his gadgets and weapons. Including small explosives, smoke pellets, tracking devices, communicators, medications, a respirator, and extra ammo.
♦Twin Carbine Pistols. Small blasters on either side of his waist that he carries practically everywhere with him. Modified to increase accuracy, though they're more close ranged weapons, light weight and easy to use for a swift recovery.
♦Vibrosword. It isn't something he usually carries around with him, but in an emergency, it's there.
♦Red Lightsaber. Standard for a Sith. Light weight and well balanced, to allow for quick usage.
♦Black Robes. Black robes for when he's not in his suit, or when his suit is damaged.
SHIP:
The Talon.
The Talon is a ship that was built by Thamis's father and gifted to him before leaving home. It's small, and built for speed, stealth, and maneuverability. It's engines are astoundingly quiet, and its dark coloring makes it difficult to see in a dark atmosphere. It's capable of traveling great distances at great speeds and has a heavily modified, advanced navigation system, and excellent sensors to provide an early warning for anything that might be in the path, or lurking nearby. The ship is also built for light combat, equipped with laser cannons and an enhanced targeting system for increased accuracy. The Talon is not the best ship for a war zone, however, it's certainly capable of handling small skirmishes.
"Your hope is gone, and so is mine."
The Talon.
The Talon is a ship that was built by Thamis's father and gifted to him before leaving home. It's small, and built for speed, stealth, and maneuverability. It's engines are astoundingly quiet, and its dark coloring makes it difficult to see in a dark atmosphere. It's capable of traveling great distances at great speeds and has a heavily modified, advanced navigation system, and excellent sensors to provide an early warning for anything that might be in the path, or lurking nearby. The ship is also built for light combat, equipped with laser cannons and an enhanced targeting system for increased accuracy. The Talon is not the best ship for a war zone, however, it's certainly capable of handling small skirmishes.
"Your hope is gone, and so is mine."
KILLS:
None.
None.
BOUNTIES COLLECTED:
None.
DUELING RING MATCHES:
♦Cold As Ice - Incomplete
♦Upon Golden Seas - Incomplete
♦Battle of the Brutes
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
None.
ROLE-PLAYS:
ACOLYTE
Classes
♦Class Prereqs
A class on force lightning and pyromancy.
♦Learning Stealth [COMPLETE]
A class on stealth and the force.
Training
♦Death's Figment meets a Dark Angel
Thamis spars with an acolyte called Nox.
♦Pugnatorum
Thamis spars with a group of acolytes.
♦Your Eyes Can Deceive You
Thamis duels the acolyte, Raslekx, in complete darkness.
♦The Inglorious Fortress
Thamis learns new powers from Galad Nepos.
Missions
♦Kill the Heretics
Two rogue Sith are slandering the dark lord himself. Thamis is part of the team to kill them.
♦Grendel's Revenge
Thamis goes on a mission with Vindict to kill a nightsister.
Story and Events
♦Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
Thamis defends Randon from Arson.
♦Hot In Dreshdae
Thamis meets a group of Sith at a café and meets the Empress.
♦The Imperial Ball
Thamis attends the celebration of the empire's victory over the Jedi.
None.
DUELING RING MATCHES:
♦Cold As Ice - Incomplete
♦Upon Golden Seas - Incomplete
♦Battle of the Brutes
GRAND TOURNAMENT MATCHES:
None.
ROLE-PLAYS:
ACOLYTE
Classes
♦Class Prereqs
A class on force lightning and pyromancy.
♦Learning Stealth [COMPLETE]
A class on stealth and the force.
Training
♦Death's Figment meets a Dark Angel
Thamis spars with an acolyte called Nox.
♦Pugnatorum
Thamis spars with a group of acolytes.
♦Your Eyes Can Deceive You
Thamis duels the acolyte, Raslekx, in complete darkness.
♦The Inglorious Fortress
Thamis learns new powers from Galad Nepos.
Missions
♦Kill the Heretics
Two rogue Sith are slandering the dark lord himself. Thamis is part of the team to kill them.
♦Grendel's Revenge
Thamis goes on a mission with Vindict to kill a nightsister.
Story and Events
♦Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
Thamis defends Randon from Arson.
♦Hot In Dreshdae
Thamis meets a group of Sith at a café and meets the Empress.
♦The Imperial Ball
Thamis attends the celebration of the empire's victory over the Jedi.
"But to be understood by a man of whom does not exist, is to have never been truly understood at all."
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