The Planet of the Dead

[Ush]

Nar Shadaa

Several days ago...

Daxim tutted out a rough tune, banging his fingers on the hand-rest of the chair. He really had no idea where to go. More importantly, where he could take Matayn Black, who was sitting beside him. Their relationship was... Fresh, to say the least. He noticed she still seemed a little shocked whenever he hugged her, even if the effect was lessening. The first time they'd kissed had been some days before, in the apartment they'd been staying in. Since then, all he'd done was hold her hand and hug her before they went to sleep. He was content with that, for now.
But his happiness was dampened somewhat by the planet they were on. Nar Shadaa was not a pleasant place to stay on for too long. The previous night Daxim had heard a blaster being discharged. He had demanded that they leave. She'd listened, thankfully, although he didn't know how she felt about it.
Now, they had no idea where to go. Daxim placed his palm against the chin of his mask and tapped the metal over where he mouth should be. He wanted to take her to so many places, but none of them were really safe. Curoscant, he had heard so many stories of that. But it was the Sith capital now, and he was slightly afraid that the traffic controllers would want her to go with them, and then he wouldn't let her. That would lead to a fight, which would lead to both of them ending up on Imperial bounty lists. He really didn't want that for her. So now he had to decide where she would possibly like to go to.
"Hmm."
He truly had no idea where Matayn would like to go. She would hate the flying part, something he was both amused and slightly horrified by, but at least now he could comfort her with more than just words. He let himself grin ever so slightly at the thought, but in a way that she wouldn't see. He did enjoy hugging her, more than he thought the act would bring. But then again, he hadn't hugged anyone since his sister at age twelve. That was well over ten years ago. He needed someone to hug, to stay sane now. It was like a drug and he constantly wanted more of it. Physical contact was, easily, the thing he enjoyed most about being in this relationship. Holding her hand made him smile, hugging her made him grin. He wanted to kiss her every time he saw her blush, of which she did an awful lot of, or smile, of which she did an awful lot more of than she had when they first met. He wanted to show her she was more than what she thought of herself. Thankfully, he didn't think she'd hurt herself since that night...
He was unsure about how he felt about that night. The brutal, crushing feeling of utter terror had reminded him of the night he'd fought his brother for the last time. Her kiss, though... That had made him beyond happy.
But now he had to think of a good place to go. Somewhere with bounty opportunities but wasn't extremely dangerous...
For years Daxim had worked as a bounty hunter, guide and general Zonju V 'handy-man'. He'd worked on all five major cities, in all eight major continents, in every single habitat Zonju V had. And then he'd tried to take control of his sister's gang and it had all gone up in flames. The upside was that he met Matayn through it. Yeah, the opportunity to hug someone again had been completely worth it. The chance to kiss someone... That was new to him. He had liked it. He had liked it a hell of a lot. The only downside was that he didn't want to take her anyway overly dangerous. He didn't want to bring her to Nar Shadaa, for example, and he never, ever would again. He remembered their first conversation, in the reading room of the Saloon.
"Matayn, you told me once you came from Necropolis. Is there anything there you want to do there, now that I'm here?"
He turned his head on his palm to look at her on the seat beside him.

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn sat silently in the chair, her mind flying elsewhere. The sound coming from the tapping of Daxim's fingers was completely lost on Matayn as she wandered within her own little world. She couldn't understand herself. One part of her wanted to fall into Daxim's arms and hug him, kiss him, never let him go from her. Yet, another part of her, a stronger part, bristled and growled everytime Daxim moved to touch her. It urged her to strike him at every hug she did not fully expect and anticipate, and once, though she doubted Daxim noticed, she nearly did.

She wanted to scream at that part of her to go away, to stop taking control of her actions. Her memories, her experiences, they were in the past, those people could not hurt her anymore. Most likely, they were already dead, and some Matayn had even personally saw to it that they met their ends, despite regretting doing it later. Those people hurt her in ways that many people could not imagine, yet they were gone, their actions no longer ruled her, right?

Reaching up, Matayn absentmindedly rubbed her temples, her face reflecting the inner confusion that consumed her mind. What would I do, She thought, If I saw those people again? Their faces were burned into Matayn's memory, even as far back as Necropolis. She hadn't been much older than 14 when she left Necroplis, and she remembered more than she would've liked. Putting down her hand and looking up, her thoughts were broken when Daxim spoke.

She froze, not knowing what to say. Her first instinct was to cry out 'nope!' as loudly as she could, however, she kept quiet. Daxim was here now, so what was there to be afraid of? She had memories there, memories that needed burying, and she wanted to make personally sure that the people who hurt her could never hurt anyone else ever again.

Looking at Daxim, a strange look of determination overtook her face, though still tinged with a bit of her usual fear.
"Y-yes, I believe so."

 

[Ush]

Daxim looked at her, his jaw set. That had disturbed her somewhat, which in turn disturbed him. He hadn't been expecting that. But she said she wanted to, and it would bring him ease of mind to know what that was.
"Then off we go."
The ship jumped into life as he began to get it ready to take off.
_______________________________

Over Necropolis.

Now

Daxim had never seen a planet that looked ill before. Nar Shadaa had looked dirty. Zonju V looked dead. But Necropolis? That planet looked sick, like it was in the process of dieing. He looked over at Matayn, about to say something, but then thought against it. She must be terrified. It was hard to believe she came from there, for a moment. But made more sense the more he thought about it. She always seemed scared, even of him. Despite how she was stronger than most people he'd met, she was still mentally fractured. He wanted to help her, more than anything. But she would let him in when she felt like she could. Until then, he was her shoulder to cry on.
Necropolis hung in the middle of space, covered in buildings and smog. Nar Shadaa wasn't this bad. Nar Shadaa looked like it had life. Necropolis looked like it sucked in life and kept it there in it's core, let it die and then displayed it as a badge of honor. Daxim felt like he wanted to get the hell away from there and never return. He wondered how Matayn felt. A ship flew past, much larger than Daxim and Matayn's. A cruiser of some sort. On the bottom of it a yellow mark shone, a sort of odd oval. It made Daxim feel sick inside.
"Matayn. What does that symbol mean?"
Under the symbol there was writing. Daxim leaned forwards and read it out before she could answer.
"Do unto Nothyng... Oh, by the Maiden..."
The Church of Nothyng. He knew it, to a degree. A priest had visited Zonju, once. He'd tried to get converts. It had been Jakata, Daxim's father, that put an end to it. The pair had fought with vibroblades for a few minutes until the Priest of Nothyng died with a gurgle, his own sword stuck in his shoulder. It had been the first time Daxim had seen a man die. That same symbol had been pierced by the killing blow. Tirrafe had encouraged his men to find their gods, which made the killing of the Priest seem strange. When Daxim had inquired about it to Jakata, his father had looked at him sadly and told him that some abominations were never meant to exist and the Church could be considered one of them.
"The Church of Nothyng."
His voice was hollow, cracked. He understood now. Daxim's head turned swiftly to look at Matayn.
"I'm so, so sorry, Matayn. I am so sorry."
This was their home. He should have realized sooner. Daxim's hands balled into fists. "Some abominations were never meant to exist, Daxim. The Church should be considered one of them."
"Where exactly are we going."
"And when you find them, son, correct the god's mistake."

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn, as per her usual, had been uneasy the entire flight. Flying always put Matayn off, and the knowledge that she was going back to Necropolis had her excusing herself once to the bathroom where she staved off a fear vomiting. But as they arrived at the world, Matayn felt herself experience a new set of emotions.

Fear, that was expected, revulsion, that too was expected. Anger, that was new. Matayn had not expected to feel her blood boil at it did when they arrived. For once, Matayn felt anger at someone other than herself, she felt rage and fear and the sickening feeling of utter despair gripping her heart. It was almost too much to bear, but Matayn, reaching over to grasp Daxim's hand, managed.

Quiet as a mouse, Matayn spoke the words without looking at the ship. Even as it passed out of sight, she continued. Matayn knew the versus, she knew great swathes of the tome even after all this time. Pain was a memorable teacher, though just as hated.
"-as ye would have Nothyng do unto you. Gyve unto Nothyngness them whych give Nothyng unto you. For even the unbelievers also give Nothyng unto those that give Nothyngness unto them."

Matayn's breathing became shallow as fear intermingled and masked her anger, her eyes locked on the world as she answered Daxim in as loud a tone as she could muster(though it barely hit that of a normal speaking volume.)
"I remember it, I remember it all. I remember-"

Reaching forward, she input coordinates into Daxim's landing computer, anger seething slightly in her tone as she continued.
"I, remember, everything. I've never forgotten, even if they have. Better for us if they have, they won't expect me to come back, back-"
Her voice choked then, fear and sadness overtaking her burst of courage as the word 'home' came to the tip of her tongue. No, she could not even force herself to call this place 'home.' She may have been born here and raised for much of her childhood in that church, but this was certainly not her home.

Moving up, Matayn gripped Daxim by the arm and spoke, her voice now reflecting the fear as usually could be heard from her.
"I was only 6, that was the first time I had a seizure. F-father wanted to take me to the church for a cleansing. Mom knew no one survived those, and she begged father to let me go. Mom was like me, and like me, fragile. F-father must've only thrown her against a wall once, but it was enough to kill her.

The church, they, they 'took me in' after 'failing' their cleansing. I don't remember much of that, I don't want too, fire, so much fire. They sought to turn me into a proper Priestess after that, teaching me the Tome to know by heart, doing other things."
Matayn's fists tightened up into balls, anger rising once again.
"My entire life was a living hell for 8 long years. I remember the priest who 'raised' me, that's where we start. That will be where we start our own cleansing."

 

[Ush]

Daxim had never seen her like this. Depressed, of course. Sad, mostly. Happy? Occasionally. But angry? Only at herself. Rage, though... The righteous wrath that he was witnessing was new to him from Matayn. It was terrifying to him. She was so quiet and calm, albeit sad, most of the time. Her hand held his arm rigidly, like she was when he hugged her too tightly. Daxim placed his palm on the back of her hand and gripped it for a moment before slipping his own hand under hers and lifting it to his mouth to kiss her knuckles and fingers, holding her hand tightly. He looked at her eyes, trying to understand what she was thinking.
"Matayn..."
The first thing he thought to say was that she was acting a little two quickly on this. And then he realized that he'd killed over pettier things. Eight years of torture had fragmented Matayn, left her broken. They would have to hurt for touching her, for breaking her. But right now she needed to be calm. She'd end up feeling guilty over their death's later, it was the kind of thing she did. He couldn't let that happen. So he kissed her fist, the grip so tight it nearly broke his hand, and he used his other hand to begin to move the ship even as he spoke to her.
"My father treated this Church like a mistake. I think he'd met them when he was younger, maybe he was born into them like you were. Either way, he hated them. The first time I saw him kill a man it was when one of those priests tried to get followers on Zonju V. It was after I got my cybernetics, I'd say I was about eleven. He pulled out a vibroblade and attacked the priest. The priest fought back, but he was an old man. My father was only in his late thirties at this point.
'They must have been at it for fifteen minutes. Most fights like that, they last... Ten, fifteen seconds. Fifteen minutes... By the end of it they were so tired that the priest was using his sword as a cane. It ended when my father hamstringed him, and then grabbed his sword hand. He broke the wrist, pulled the weapon up... And drove it into shoulder. A wound like that normally ends with a lot of blood spurting, but this... It dribbled out. It was thicker than normal men's. I remember that. Like he wasn't... Like he wasn't human, like he'd stepped into his... What do they call it, what they worship? God? Heaven? Hell? But the blood was darker and thicker than normal. Like a path into Nothyng..."
Daxim was lost in thought, staring at her face while he spoke and holding her hand close to his face. He kissed it again, slowly, as he continued to speak.
"My father had the body burned. Called it 'an Abomination'. I was made watch as it did. It oozed. I'd only ever heard my father that angry, when he was saving me a few years before from the Ra'Fakki... And he told me I had to wipe them out if I ever came across them. I never had, until today..."
The other ship had moved too far to see the symbols, but Daxim looked at it anyway. And then, slowly, he reached out and cupped Matayn's face with his other palm, his body rotated at an odd angle. His jaw was set beneath the mask.
"But for what they've done to you... I'll hunt them down. I will bring you their heads if you ask me. No one will ever touch you in a way you don't want them to ever again, Matayn, and I'll kill every single person that has so far to make you happy if that's what it takes."
He dropped his hand from her face and his other hand from her wrist, trailing her fingers as he did so. Immediately he began to move the ship forwards, towards atmosphere. His arms were tensed as he worked, bringing them into the co-ordinates. They entered the atmosphere of the choked planet and Daxim felt physically sick. He shivered as they descended and didn't look to where they were going. Eventually, he was hovering hundreds of feet above the planet while looking for somewhere to land. But first, he looked over to Matayn beside him, making sure she was okay.

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn looked solemn throughout Daxim's story, softening up as her rage lessened with Daxim's gentle kiss upon her hand. His calmness allowed her to think through what she was saying, and she instantly felt slight shame at her anger, despite it being justified. His last few sentences, however, those sent her into deep thought. Would killing those who hurt her really make her happy? No, no killing would ever make her happy, and she also knew that not even the death of every Church follower living would bring about justice for the crimes of the Church after all these years.

However, they could stop more crimes from being committed, stop more people from ending up like Matayn. There were many, Matayn knew, many more like herself. There was not a single moment in that hellhole that she did not hear or see others, treated like herself.

Swallowing deeply as Daxim searched for a place to land, Matayn spoke quietly.
"It won't make me happy, no matter how many heads we take. But, we can stop them at the very least, stop other's from ending up like me."

Once they set down, Matayn would wordlessly rise from her seat and make her way to the arsenal, setting her sights on her Mandalorian Keen blades and massive VibroClaymore. Hefting the massive blade as if it were a knife, Matayn began to speak in a monotonous voice, describing the place they'd be going as emotionlessly as she could without allowing anger to rise. Sure, there was fear eating away at her, screaming for her to go hide, and she knew it'd only get worse as they neared the place. However, she also knew she couldn't back out, she had to go there, they had to stop the madness.

"The building is structured like how you would expect a Jedi temple to appear as on the outside. A simple building, only one story, when you enter the front there is a three-way crossway. To the right are the official dormitories, I've never been there but I've heard they're some of the most lavish places on the planet. To the left are the dungeons, you can't open that blast door unless you've got the passcard from the priest. Forward is the walkway that leads to the Sanctuary, where worship is held, right before there is a small door leading to the kitchen, I've never been there either.

The dungeons are the only place I believe has changed over these past decade and a half. They're always adding more down there, it's a arsenal, a prison, a storehouse for food and they keep enough explosives down there to blow out a block of homes, about a thousand people what with how packed and stacked everything is. I, I'll need your help going down there, I assume there'll be, traps, and such."
Matayn didn't think, if she was alone, she'd be able to make it one step down into the 'dungeons.' There weren't any traps because the Priest was expected to be able to slaughter anyone who came and threatened his personal church and his assets.

They had a fight ahead of them, and the weaker of the two was the only one who knew the way to go.

 

[Ush]

Daxim watched her go, his eyes frowning slightly. She made her way straight to the guns. That meant she planned to kill someone. After a few moments of thinking, he followed. They had quite an arsenal. His sniper rifle, pistols, assault rifle, vibroblade and flamethrower were laid out in front of him. The vibroblade and both pistols, anyway... He put the pistols in their holsters at his waist and slid the knife in at his back. Now, he could carry two out of the three... But first, the duster and gloves. While the Waste Rangers were gone, Daxim still liked wearing the Duster. Not so much the hat, though. His hair was too long. It kept falling off. The gloves he had he'd been wearing for years. On the end of one of them there was a small bloodstain, but not large enough to warrant a replacement just yet. He looked himself in the mirror and put his mask on. Now he looked like the cold killer he was used to seeing.
She still had those knives. He hated them, now. They'd spilled her blood. It made it hard to look at them. But she used them in a fight, so who was he to judge? Her blood would be washed away by the blood of the wicked and damned. They'd have to cut a lot of throats before he started to like them, though. He said nothing about the claymore. It was blunted, she wouldn't kill anyone with it.
When she explained the situation, Daxim leaned against the desk with the guns on them.
"Close quarters, it sounds like except for the walkway. We'll need to get rid of that or make sure they can't extremely quickly. I don't really have the hardware for a drawn out mid-range fight."
The terms were slightly odd, but they were the ones he used in his head. This was a job to plan, nothing more.
"There's a few ways we could hit it. I go in the front guns blazing and you blow out the roof, fall though, raise hell. Or the other way around, if you wish. We could sneak into the sermon, pretend to be one of them and then butcher them while they preach. Only problem with that is the religions fanatics around..."
He then got a nasty look in his eye and his voice took a sarcastic drawl to it.
"Tell me which and I'll get the right stuff for it."
In all but the last the right gear was the flamethrower and sub-machine gun. For the last, he'd pick off targets at a long range before letting her move inside. This was her job, not his. He'd be there for her at every last second of it, but she had to do this herself.
"So what's it going to be?"

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn turned to Daxim, fear prominent on her face as her grip tightened on the hilt of her claymore. Swallowing, Matayn breathed in deeply and spoke, her quiet voice shaking ever so slightly yet still sharp with determination.
"There shouldn't be a sermon going on currently, which is good s-since most followers are not evil, just misguided. It'd be like slaughtering sheep, and I don't want that. The preacher would recognize m-me anyway, he's got something in his eye that allows him to not forget what he sees, but he w-wouldn't recognize you..."

Turning, Matayn wondered for a minute before speaking up.
"You go in, act like a mercenary. Ask for the Priest, when he comes out, I'll come in through the roof to help you fight."
Matayn, holding the claymore across her shoulder and by one hand, reached over for the hat she was given by the Waste Rangers. It was a wide, flat brimmed hat that obscured the eyes at a distance.

Picking up the hat, Matayn examined it for only a moment before turning back to Daxim. She towered over him when she stood at full height, reaching 9 inches(22.9cms) higher than him, yet she felt smaller than a mouse before the stronger man. Leaning down slightly, Matayn kissed Daxim. A light kiss, pulled away quickly, but the first since their very first some time ago. Putting on the hat, Matayn spoke.
"Don't, don't let him get you. There's something strange about him, something more. Be careful, I don't think I would be able to go without you."

 

[Ush]

Daxim recognized what she was talking about. His own eye had had something like that, except his took a snapshot of the person's facial bone structure. It had been explained to him that sometimes the normal stuff didn't work because the guy had received surgery or something. His own little gadget had allowed not even the sands of time to hide an enemy. It hadn't been replaced when his body had been folded in two beneath the hammer of a winged woman. Daxim hated having his own tricks used against him. Alternatively, it was just some sort of video recorder. That would be kind of boring, in hindsight.
"Lambs can become lions..."
That was an unpleasant thought. Religious fanatics were the worst kind. He nodded at her plan, though. It would work if he really was just a fat old man.
"Don't land on me, hun."
And then she kissed him. By the Maiden he liked that. He kissed her back, even as she pulled away, and it took him a moment to get his thoughts together. By the time he had, the taste of her had nearly faded from his mouth, much to his annoyance. But her next words more than made up for it. He smiled and touched her hand before opening the hatch to the ship and stepping out, but not without a final few words for her.
"My brother had something different about him. So did my sister. They bled, though. So will this one."
And with that, he moved off. The church was easy to see in this place. It towered above other buildings, with a sloped roof and a bell-tower. It took Daxim a moment to work up the composure to step inside, but he eventually did. It was only one room, a huge chamber filled with pews and a soft, eerie light. Daxim didn't like it. There was a caretaker fixing candles on a stand nearby. Daxim strode up to him, looking more confident than he felt (even with all the guns) and spoke.
"Your priest. I want to speak with him."
The little man looked terrified, but he nodded and shuffled off to find the man. Daxim sat on one of the pews at the back of the room and waited.

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn let a small smile creep on her face as Daxim moved out. She trusted him, this would be ok, she promised herself. Moving to the side, she began her ascent to the top of the building.

Inside, a grim covered caretaker, dressed in nothing but rags and a small hat, cleaned candleholders fashioned from some rare metal. Turning to the man who spoke to him, fear gripped him and he scampered off. The mercenary terrified him, the man could see death in him. Running to the Priest, he found him praying aloud in the back room. Tapping him on the shoulder, he leaned in and whispered inside the man's ear.

The Priest stood, a hulk of a man, and brushed the caretaker aside. Stepping out of the room, he closed the door behind him and looked over in the direction of Daxim, examining him with one cybernetic eye, his left, his other eye permanently closed from being sown shut. Crooking his head, the Priest stretched himself up and simply glared at the mercenary. The Priest looked human, but stood at nearly eight feet tall and looked as if he could snap any one of the pews in half with his bare, monstrous hands.

Holding out a hand, the Priest spoke in a seemingly kind voice.
Dear child, why have you come here? Is there some sin you need forgotten in the abyss of Nothyng? You do not have the look of one of my flock."

Behind and above him, a figure could be seen in the window nearly ten meters up, completely still. The light streamed in from the other direction, causing the sight of her to not be obscured, and no shadow was cast. It was Matayn, frozen in terror. Daxim would be able to see her clearly, though the Priest would not. Her chest heaved, her eye wide open, her other eye, her right, covered with a patch.

If watched for but a moment more, she could be seen breaking through her fear for a moment. Just a moment, but in that moment, she could be seen setting down her blunted sword and drawing her two Mandalorian Keen Blades. She did not intend to stop this man temporarily.

She was clearly going to try to kill him.

 

[Ush]

At the first sight of the priest, Daxim thought that the light was playing a trick on him. The man was too big at too far a distance to possibly be real. And yet, as he came closer, Daxim realized that he was, in fact, staring at a real person. Up until then, Daxim had thought his brother had been the biggest man he'd ever seen. But this priest made him seem like a child in comparison. Daxim's brother had been as wide as Daxim himself was, huge shoulders and a trunk-like waist. But this... This was another level of huge.
All this crossed his mind as the man crossed the room. Two feet taller than Daxim and nearly twice as wide. Just before he blocked the view, Daxim spotted Matayn on the roof. She looked terrified. Scared out of her mind. Daxim looked at the man's hands and realized something horrible. As a little girl, those hands had touched her in places no child should ever be touched. Daxim had to cross his arms behind his back to stop his anger showing in them. His mask protected his expression, a grimace of rage. And his eyes showed no emotion, as always, their purple light shining as they always did.
"Combat Mode One, Engaged."
His eyes powered up as the voice whispered into his ear. Then he felt his legs get stronger and his torso solidify. Combat Mode One, the direct assault. It allowed Daxim to move quickly and smash through enemies. His eyes shone twin beams of light as they looked at the monstrous behemoth ahead of him. Cybernetics in the eye, the other one showing intense damage from where it had been sown shut. Daxim remembered how he'd sown Matayn up after she had hurt herself. He wondered if the same method had been used. It looked like it.
Next, he looked at the man's legs. They were like the trunks to a tree. The knee would probably give if it was hit by a bullet or Daxim's own. The only problem was that it was at waist height for him.
So Daxim used his other talent. His tongue.
"Aye, I have. No, I am not one of your flock, but I wish to be considered one of them, in time."
His hand tightened around the revolver grip, ready to pull it out and blow out a knee-cap. As soon as the priest turned, he would feel agony in his knee...

 

[Black Noise]

The priest crooked his head, almost as if he did not hear Daxim the first time. However, the look of confusion disappeared from his face relatively quickly and he gave a nod in Daxim's direction before speaking.
"All come to Nothyng, in time. It is our destiny whether we wish it or not. Come with me and we-"

Suddenly, the glass could be heard breaking from above as Matayn smashed it, screaming in rage as she did. At that, the monster turned and gave a glance up at the window. He had not the chance to say a word before Daxim's revolver put a bullet through the back of his knee, causing him to crumple down to one leg.

Matayn dropped through the window and landed directly in front of the man, though still out of his reach. She hesitated for a moment, a strange look in her eyes. The look was not one of pity or a sudden of heart, rather it was a look of frozen rage and remembrance. Her memories, suppressed for so long, surged back to her now. Screaming, Matayn stepped forward and swung her keen blades, aiming to severe the man's head from his body.

The priest had other plans, however, and was already grasping and bringing up two small, durasteel candlesticks to temporarily block Matayn. He wasn't faster than Matayn, but the distance from his hands to his neck was far less than from where Matayn was in relation to his neck.

And in their short engagement, the priest had made the mistake of not only forgetting about Daxim, but he had also made no move to remove his back from where it had been turned in Daxim's direction.

 

[Ush]

The first bullet in his revolver wasn't the specialized cyro rounds that filled the rest of the gun. It could carry six bullets, but Daxim usually only put in five. One was a standard round, the thing that had gone into the priest's knee. The next four shattered inside the target, the bullet sending freezing around in random directions. It was quite devastating. In all the times Daxim had used it, it had killed the person he'd aimed for due to a mixture of trauma from the bullet's impact and internal bleeding. The next shot was a killer. That also meant he had to be careful with it.
When he heard the glass crack and Matayn fall through, the normal bullet went through the priest's knee-cap. Daxim immediately pulled the hammer back, sliding the next shot into the chamber in the time it took for the priest to fall. Matayn's scream was chilling. The look in her eye was worse. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and kiss her until she calmed down. But that could wait. This man... No, this... Thing, could not. If they let him go he'd find a way to disappear. That would destroy Matayn, Daxim could tell. Yet at the same time, would killing him truly solve her problems?
That was the thought that passed through his brain as he aimed the pistol to the back of the priest's chest. Standing out of reach, but still too close with the gun aimed at the heart, this was the best place to hold a person down. Too close and a skilled fighter could take the gun from your hand. Too far away and they could move. Aiming it at the head and they could whip out of the way. But this was the perfect place.
"Freeze, kriffer."
Daxim never swore. Well, hardly ever. The tone of his voice was low and the slightly static-y effect from his mask was obvious.
"Drop those candlesticks. You aren't going to kill anyone with those. But I've got a revolver with enough stopping power to cripple a bantha pointed at you, and don't think for a kriffing moment that I won't use it. Your cloth isn't going to save you. Hell, right now, it's the thing condemning you. So drop them and put your hands on your head."
Next, he looked at Matayn. His voice was calming now, the static not as obvious.
"Hun, we can't kill him. If he has people here, we need to help them. If we kill him, we might leave someone behind."
His voice was begging, almost. He had no intention of letting the priest go. But telling him that would make him refuse to help them. If they pretended to have some intention of letting him continue living, he might be prepared to lose part of his... Collection. It all depended on Matayn's next move, though.

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn froze when her blades collided with the priest's candlesticks, the sharp, almost slicing sound reverberating throughout the large room. Her blades had cut into the candlesticks where they had landed, they were strong. For a moment, Matayn's eye and the Priest's eye locked, opposite eyes. The Priest stayed emotionless at first, till Matayn listened to Daxim and yanked her blades free from the candlesticks, sheathing them as she did. Matayn said nothing, her eye turning down to the floor, for she believed if she said anything, she'd lose herself again.

The Priest smiled through his pain, slowly placing the candlesticks on the ground. His own mind processing what Daxim spoke of and replying as he did.
"Indeed, without me you have no chance of finding anyone down there. It's been expanded since your last visit, Matayn."
Immediately and without warning, Matayn's arm flashed forward and smashed into the Priest's chest as he rose, cracking ribs as she did. Her steel bones and cybernetic muscle easily snapping his ribs. As he cried out in pain, Matayn wrung her hand and spoke in a low tone.
"Do not say my name."

It was not Matayn's own self control that kept her from giving herself up and slaughtering the man now, neither was it the logic that he was needed as a temporary guide to take them underground. Rather, it was only for the fact that Daxim told her he needed the monster alive that Matayn restrained herself now. She did not speak to Daxim as she stepped past the Priest and looked at him, yet her look held more than she could've ever said at that moment. Her look was one of compliance and understanding, or as much compliance and understanding as she could show through the memories of pain that dominated her thoughts and body.

Much more slowly, and quietly now, the Priest stood up with his hands on his head. The pain of lifting his arms with broken ribs was nearly unbearable, yet the large man knew his only chance of living was if the small man with the gun thought he had value long enough for the Priest to get downstairs and retrieve a weapon. Stepping forward, he spoke in a low, graveling voice, rather than the kindly tone he had moments before.
"I'll lead the way."

 

[Ush]

Daxim winced at the power of Matayn's punch. The cracking of ribs made him wince more. To him, that sound was matched only by the sound of metal bending. Both meant something bad in his line of... Well, existence. It had been a while since he'd heard either, thankfully, not since the hammer had dropped into his chest while being shoved by a very angry seven foot tall woman.
"Aye, priest. That you will."
When the priest moved ahead of Daxim, the cybernetic stepped close to Matayn and took her hand in his, lifting it to his mask and pressing the back of it over where his mouth was. He didn't hold it too long, in case the priest turned. But his eyes looked at her and he hoped they held all the things he wanted to say at that moment, all the comforts and promises. The time would come, though. Stepping away from Matayn, Daxim moved towards the priest, out of her earshot.
"Talk to her again, even dare to say her name, and I'll flay the ****ing skin off your fingers before I rub salt into them and bandage them with sandpaper, d'ya hear you me? Not a word, heretic. Not. One. Word."
To back up the threat, Daxim cocked his revolver. Still standing just out of reach, he turned his head to Matayn and gestured for her to follow.
It occurred to Daxim that he had been entirely serious about his threat. Usually, what he meant was that he was going to kill the person if they didn't do what he said. But not this time. This time, he was actually going to make good on his promise. This man... This thing... Had hurt Matayn. His Matayn. The lonely, sad girl he wanted to hold in his arms until she held him back... The woman who had made it his biggest goal to make her smile... To make her happy...
Lashing his leg out, Daxim caught the back of the slate the priest was standing on with all his power. With a sharp crack, the slate shot up on the priest's end. The man would stumble, probably. Maybe even fall. The agony from the broken ribs would be enough to punch Daxim's words into the priests skull.
"And this should go without saying, but if you grab a weapon the same thing will happen."
After a second of mulling it over, Daxim added something else to the torture.
"Except this time it will be your cock."
There, that'd do. Kicking the priest into the chamber he had come from, Daxim gestured for Matayn to follow, never taking his eyes from the priest.
"Follow if you would, milady."
The archaic words he somethings used were just out of habit. Part of his identity. A trademark, almost. It still added a slightly upbeat tune to this otherwise morbid song, something Daxim hoped Matayn would appreciate.

 

[Black Noise]

The priest said nothing in reply to Daxim's threats, nor did he show any emotion at the pain inflicted upon him other than barely hidden, seething rage. The thoughts crossing the Priest's mind were so unholy it would likely make even the All Destroyer smile. The trio descended, Matayn nodding to Daxim but unable to bring herself to my at his archaic statement.

Within minutes, they came upon a steel door at which the Priest hesitated to unlock. However, the power behind Daxim's previous threats were more than enough for him to open the door. Inside, only horror, death, and cruelty greeted them. The dungeon was massive, but had not a single true wall. Cages made up the walls in here, hundreds of cages all around. Cages where the dead, dying, and the decaying laid out. Each being, species ranging from Human to even a Mol Calamari and ages as variable as could be imagined, held some sort of deformity. Some it appeared to be in the mind, but most had it of a physical variety.

Matayn slowly stepped forward and in front of both Daxim and the Priest, ignoring Daxim if he tried to stop here. While diversity was certainly very variant from caged being to caged being, the amount still living could only be estimated at 10 or 15. All but a few eyes turned towards the newcomers, all eyes of beings who looked lost, hopeless, utterly broken. But Matayn had not eye for them, there was one being she made a beeline for.

Sitting along outside of a cage, her hands and feet in chains, sat a woman dressed in rags who looked to be older than Matayn. The raven haired girl moved towards this woman, who had not the strength to even look up, and sank to her knees. Reaching forward, Matayn grabbed the woman and hugged her, dry heaves shaking her body as she did.

It was a pitiful sight, Matayn shaking and heaving, trying to cry but being totally unable to. When it seemed to Matayn that the pain would be nearly too much to bear, the woman, slowly but surely, reached forward put her chained hands on Matayn's back, making faint shushing noises, wiping Matayn's tearless eyes, and rocking back and forth. It was then that Matayn broke, finally, truly, broke. She cried out, half a cry of agony and half a cry of unbearable emotional pain.

Daxim would know of this woman, Matayn had talked about her before. That Matayn had been imprisoned with a girl nearly ten years her senior, a girl impaired with some mental disease and had 'lived' in the dungeon for some number of years. The older girl, Matayn thought, never really understood all that was happening around her, but Matayn knew she felt empathy for Matayn's pain. Because every time after, the woman would hold her, hush her crying, dry her tears, and rock her back and forth till she fell asleep.

 

[Ush]

Daxim watched the priest carefully, with his revolver ready. He didn't know what he'd expected when the door opened. An enemy, perhaps. A few cells. Not an entire cavern of death. Daxim had been near people when they died. He'd seen a man being torn in half. But nothing could have prepared him for what was in that basement. His mouth opened behind his mask and his eyes widened.
"By the Maiden..."
His own native deity was much kinder than the one the priest followed, but Daxim feared that against the evil of this Church she had no power. When Matayn pushed passed him, Daxim's hand automatically reached for her. But she passed him easily, and he stared gobsmacked at the horrors before him. To his right, a human coughed and shuddered. Daxim stepped towards the cell. The human's face was turned away, and he seemed relatively unhurt at first. But when the head twisted, Daxim saw an ugly purple mark covering the left side. A birthmark. To Daxim, that wasn't anything unusually. Despite being the biggest city on the planet, Sathrad'ra was filthy. The amount of physical deformities was much higher than in, say, Stienghast. He himself had been born without the use of his legs.
The human, despite being weak, looked at Daxim and tried to rise. Daxim could do nothing to help him up. The clothes were like rags. His hair and beard, both long and thick, may once have been blond if not for the filth that covered him. As he limped forwards, the human pointedly looked past Daxim. The priest. Of course. Looking towards Matayn holding her friend, Daxim made absolutely sure she was out of range of any trouble. After making absolutely certain she was, he closed his eyes.

After a moment of breathing, Daxim looked at the human in front of him. This Daxim wasn't the one who had chosen to bring Matayn with him. It wasn't the diplomat or the reason his father had raised. This was the killer that had executed his brother and sister when they proved too volatile to live. This Daxim had no need for love or happiness. All this Daxim needed was a target. Behind him, there it was. The psychopathic side of all the Moray family showed itself in some light. Each and every generation was taught that certain people need to die. In his brother, it had manifested as an inherent need to kill any rival. In his sister, any threat. And in Daxim, it was the hateful side that came out when those he loved were put under threat. Right now, one of them was sobbing and crying in a way that made his heart want to burst. The priest had hurt Matayn. The priest was responsible for this entire room. He needed to die.
In front of him, the human had taken out what appeared to be a knife made from a spoon. A shiv. Capable of killing, yes, but fairly useless if the other enemy had anything longer than a vibroknife to fend you off with. There was the killing rage in that man's eyes as well. Daxim looked at him and nodded once. The priest would try to lunge him while he was distracted. Daxim didn't see if he had a weapon or not. Either way, when he did, Daxim would spin out of the way and the prisoner's knife would sink into his ribs. The lung would be punctured, maybe the heart if the knife hit him in the right place. Daxim would continue the spin and sink his sister's vibroknife into the priest's vertebrae. If he was still not dead, Daxim would step back and aim the revolver in his eye. There were still some things he needed to know about this place. And he was sure his new ally wanted to have the final pleasure of the kill.

 

[Black Noise]

Matayn saw none of what went on behind her, all she heard through her tearless sobs was the muzzle of the gun. But nothing would attract her attention now. Not even the massive priest's body thumping to the ground behind her would cause her to turn head, her mind was far too clouded for such thinking. Time, for nearly the next hour as Daxim undoubtly would free those trapped here and take them back to the ship, would have no meaning to Matayn. Nothing but holding her friend cared now.

After some time, Matayn would rise from her place, deadpan, and carry her friend back to Daxim's vessel. Daxim came from a family where crazy ran in the blood, Matayn came from a species where emotions were useless items to be discarded. Now, after crying for so long, Matayn finally had no more emotions to feel, and was reduced to the numbness so common among her people. Matayn would demand a course be set for Naboo while she fed former prisoners being let stretch in the cargo hold. Once on Naboo, Matayn and Daxim would personally see to it that they were put into hospitals where they could be taken care of, paying with some of the copious amounts of money liberated from the Priest.

Matayn, after not having said more than absolutely necessary, finally spoke.
"I can't fix that world Daxim, anymore than I can fix myself."
And at that, she withdrew into herself on the copilot's chair, pulling her legs up and hugging herself.

 

[Ush]

Daxim looked over at her, looking half-like she was going to cry. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. Then, he pulled off his mask and set it aside, on the arm of his chair. Rising, he moved to crouch in front of her.

"Matayn."

He reached out his hands to rest on one of hers, clutched to her leg.

"You don't have any responsibility to that place. At all."

Daxim's bright eyes met Matayn's darker ones, but both were purple in color.

"Please don't treat yourself like you aren't worth anything, Matayn, please don't."

If Daxim had had the facility to cry, he probably would have started then.

"You don't owe anyone anything, alright? Not me, not that planet, no one."

Reaching forwards, he placed his hands on her cheeks.

"Matayn, I-"

Suddenly, the radio behind him came to life.

"I lost a lot of Rangers in the fall of the Saloon and I lost a few other things as well. I wanted to contact you because of all the records I had yours were the most extensive, Pepper seemed to like you and I don't think Pepper liked many. With this message I'm sending you the coordinates to our new base in the hopes that you'll return. Rangers have a lot of work to do it seems and I need all the help I can get."

Daxim's head turned around so fast that if he'd had a normal spine he'd have probably broken it. Not bothering to get up off his knees he twisted his body around and sort of walked and crawled towards the radio, checking the message again. After he had heard it a second time, and checked the co-ordinates accompanied to it, Daxm found himself grinning. He turned around to Matayn.

"He's not dead..."

And then he launched himself into the pilot's chair and started to madly program co-ordinates into the navigation system.

"Matayn..."

He sat back on his chair and pressed the final button. The stairs ahead of them seemed to be pulled towards them as they started going to light-speed.

"... We're going to Zonju V!"