- Joined
- May 19, 2012
- Messages
- 1,296
- Reaction score
- 2
The Slaughterhouse
Bloodshot eyes looked skyward upon the befouled sky, tainted by smoke, and famished from undefiled light. The entire world was ridden of miasmic filth, an unending epidemic that continued to infect the planet to it's core. Raxus Prime, the Circlet of Tion, Nikato's Shining Gem. Up to the horizon to his feet all that could be seen was an ocean of debris, forsaken machinery, and the most dangerous things that could ever be encountered. The innovations of the galaxy at it's lowest, the carnal hideous representation of technology and industrialization, thrived within this repulsive place. A faint sound of a fiery furnace could be heard, and the pungent stench of sulfur and ash stung his nose.
Avlis had visited a multitude of nefarious, accursed worlds but this one was among the worst. It was worse than Korriban, and he could be sure it was just as dangerous as the Shadow World, possibly even more. He had heard fair warnings of this corner of the Imperium but never had he actually found himself on it. A wrecked Imperial ship behind him lay dismantled and irreparable, it's pilot dead. His only escape ravaged by cruel nature and the effects of poor maintenance. His pale, lacerated skin tickled from the heavy atmosphere, and Avlis tried to salvage any sort of communication device from the busted ship but to no avail. All he found was an emergency supply of two days' rations and first aid.
Avlis hopped down from the frayed door onto a pile of rubble. He observed the landscape. Among the mountains of garbage he spotted towers in the distance, with smoke billowing from it's tips. A ship rocketed across the sky littering more faulty droids and waste from other worlds upon the surface. Avlis looked upon it in disgust. He spotted a jet-black lake in a nearby valley. Something about it drew his attention, and he wandered around trashed debris towards it.
As he meandered through the waste, he spotted a rusty droid stumbling towards him, it's circuits sparking and the optical receptors blinking.
"S-ss-" it tried to say, as a circuit popped. "S-stop!"
Avlis ignored it and descended past it, but it turned towards him and insisted he stopped. "Stop!"
"S-sith As-sas-in, Avlis-s Dioddai."
Avlis froze, and spun around. "How do you know my name?"
His receptors blinked on and off and one of his circuits sparked.
"Dio-odai. Enemy inbound. Attack."
"What are you talking about?"
"Attack. Attack." It's voice module malfunctioned as the voice suddenly deepened. "Attack."
"Area host-"
It suddenly lost power and with a great spark it collapsed to join the rubble, it's wiring short-circuited and no doubt beyond any chance of repair. Avlis stood perplexed at the faulty droid, finally recognizing the Imperial symbol on it's head. It gave him a strong sense of foreboding and warning but he shrugged it off and continued towards the lake. It was probably a malfunctioning battle tactician droid that happened to identify him from some datafile.