Leaving the home planet
Yxakkar strode slowly over his mother’s courtyard, not knowing what to expect this time. Life as a non-force sensitive here was a hazard at best. Deadly if he relaxed even a little bit. The only one here that treated him like something else than womprat-crap on the floor was, sometimes, Karumantha. He knew she was amused by him and his tries to gain his mother’s attention as a younger kid. He had failed. Shimantha had no use of a weak child – he was a failure in her eyes and shoved him off to his father, Ricoh, instead. Life among all these Sith’s had taught him to use his senses in full, even this elusive seventh sense of sorts. The feeling of being watched and the feeling as if someone was near got enhanced and honed to a crisp sharpness. It had helped him in the gladiator pits, that extra sense and his inbuilt craving and hunger for victory. And as ‘The Axe’, he gained a crude reputation. Now and then though, Shimantha called for her son’s presence. Like presently. He had no time for her, really, but she had means to force him to come visit whether he wanted or not. Coming freely by his own volition and decision instead of hers felt a bit better. As he stepped inside, he saw the scurrying servants and slaves, glancing at him and then shot off in another direction. He lifted his brows and looked away. He could do nothing about anything in this House. Even the two pureblood apprentices stood over him in rank, just by being Sith. Standing outside his Mother’s door he looked down at his clothing and grinned. Black leather britches, armored black and brown leather boots and a black coat that was open to show his bare chest. Leagh called him ‘her feast’. The grin toned down to a polite smile as he knocked the door and entered as it opened. As he stepped in, he got a bit surprised by the fact that she was alone. No servants, no apprentices and no half naked, or naked, Ricoh. “Mor.” He said in rattatak and made a curt bow. She looked at him as if he was just another lowlife, bargaining for his life, and she pursed her lips. “Yxakkar.” She eyed his garments as she answered, in basic just to make a point. “You could have made an effort to dress like a son of mine.” “When you treat me as a son, Mother, I promise you I will,” he said, still using his native language. She waved his words away and a chair was offered him via the Force, drawn out for him. “Sit.” He sat after just a moment’s hesitation, tilting his head as he waited for her to speak. “You are leaving Rattatak.” He wasn’t surprised over that she knew, she ruled the city, and not to mention the frelling dustball of a planet, after all and surely had spies all over the place. His friend Martagh, whose father was a Lord under Shimantha, had many stories to tell about the Lady Darth, both true and fictional. He shifted to basic as he replied. “Yes. You do not need me like ever and my honored Father seemingly does not need me for anything than fighting his fights. Yes, I am leaving, I have a mate to support and I cannot do that from here.” She tilted her head so the light from the brazier shone on her pale face, lighting it up in a ghostly way. “I will cut your funds if you do.” “You did that years ago, Mor. Before I mated Leagh.” “She is not worthy of you. She is from the low desert tribes, you should know better!” “I am hers and she is mine. End of story.” She looked at him, face suddenly smooth. He steeled himself and in the next moment… a low hiss from her and he was thrown into the wall and was held pressed against it. His chair was sent after him and it crashed against his chest. He growled of the pain and stared right back at her. Blood seeped down the pale, almost white, skin. “Kill us both then, Mor. I dare you. We are mates before the Unifier, it cannot be changed.” Another chair came soaring through the air and smashed into him, making new wounds. She swore in Rattatak, calling him the worst things a native could be called. He managed to make a convincing smile. “I have your blood, everything you call me, you also call yourself, Mor.” He felt himself getting dropped to the floor, not landing either gracefully or painless. As he got to his feet she was still hissing at him, as he grunted out curses. “Your father protects you, as worthless as you are. ‘Oldest son’ he says. You cannot even inherit him! He needs you anyway, he claims.” She ranted on, walking in front of her bleeding son. “And what do you do… You of all people, MY son, mated to a skinny, fur-dressed clan member from the desert. How could you disgrace your House?” He stopped her from further ranting and said in a low tone, “I belong to my Father’s House, you saw to that.” He showed a sneer worthy of his father. “You have MY BLOOD!” She screamed and slapped him hard in the face, her nails leaving a bloody trail. “I never chose that. Change that fact if you can.” He faced her fearlessly and as he was a tad longer he got the satisfaction of looking down on her. “Change or not you are of MY blood! Get out of my sight, Yxakkar. Out!” Her fingertips glowed now and before he got hit by her lightning he walked out and closed the door. As he leant towards the wall, not caring of that he smeared it with blood, he heard the whispers of a soft and floating dress and felt a distinctive fragrance of his youngest sister, Karumantha. She was dressed in one of her favorite dress cuts: dark red, almost translucent fabrics draped intricately over her body to show off her traits. She closed in, engulfed him in her perfume. She spoke to him in basic, still having just a tinge of rattataki accent. “My brother, ‘the Axe’, is bleeding. Why? Is Mother not approving of Leagh?” He looked at her, the thin and noble face and the high chiseled cheekbones. She didn’t really look like a true Rattatak, he thought, not as round-faced and she was far too skinny than she should be. “She is not happy, I can tell you that. Why, are you going to add?” She let out a tinkling snicker. “No, but come to my chambers. I want to talk to you, brother.” He made a sigh which had her snicker again, and followed her to the part of the House where the two sisters lived. They had two rooms each, a tremendous privilege in this place. She walked towards a comm station and tapped it before she turned to him again. “I sent for the healer.” “Okay?” He spoke in a low voice, wondering what dritt she had in mind this day. She smiled, her pale silvery eyes glittering with humor. “Brother, we are not enemies, are we?” “Are we not? I have no friends in the Sith world. Not even my own family.” “Oh, spare me the drama, Yxakkar. I have not played with you for years.” She lifted a brow and turned to the door to open it, knowing that the healer was about to knock. Her mien changed and got demanding. “Heal my brother, make it quick.” “Yes, My Lady,” the male healer whispered and got started on Yxakkar’s wounds with the help of the Force. The young man winced now and then, but in the whole, he had worse injuries than these after seeing his dear mom. After five minutes or so, the healer spoke silently again, “The wounds were shallow, Sir. There will be no scarring.” “Thanks, Jolc,” Yxakkar said kindly and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You can go now.” As the healer scurried off, he spoke again, “What was it that you needed to speak to me about, sister?” As if she was in no hurry, she sank down on her coach and patted the cushion beside her. “Come and sit here, Yxakkar.” She smiled like she had a tasty meal in front of her. “Dritt sake, Karu. Just spit it out!” She urged him to sit anyway and as he followed her invite, against his better judgement, her smile got deeper. “Well, brother, you are a brave soul. And I wanted to ask you… Well, Ayzora and I are preparing for this ritual, and—“ He interrupted her by standing up again, “No, you are not using me, my blood, toe nails or… or anything else from me, for one of your karking Sith shit.” “Yxakkar…” she lowered her voice smoothly and he felt the pull from her strong connection to the Force. “It would make the ritual stronger, to have our brother participate.” “And as you grow stronger, what will I be? An empty shell? No, Karu.” “I could make you do it, dear brother. It’s just a tiny adjustment to your will…” She lifted a brow and her eyes glittered even brighter as he turned to walk out and away from her. “We would leave more than a shell, brother. You would be empowered too.” He turned his face to look at her, “The answer is still no, sister. I have seen what you do to your men. I will not be one of them.” She rose then and walked towards him, her hips swaying as she came up close. Too close. “I know you are leaving. And I know that you will take Martagh with you along with the handsome clan-member… what’s his name? Jyntax.” Her smile got feral, the mien of a huntress. “Yes I am leaving, I have to make a living for Leagh’s sake. It is none of your business.” “Lord Xuvo will have your head for taking his son with you.” Yxakkar laughed silently then. “He may try. Nothing new with wanting to have my head in a bag or on a platter? My whole loving family wants that.” He looked at her and shook his head as she laughed again. “Good luck on your hunt for the poor soul that will enhance that ritual of yours,” he snorted, “I am leaving this madhouse.” “Yxakkar… You will always be a part of this ‘madhouse’. You are born to it.” She kissed his cheek and then waved him off. “See you soon I hope. We will be on top of the Kulah ridge two nights from now if you want to watch.” He shook his head, gave her an irritated glance and left the room, not knowing that his other sister had listened in. As his footsteps faded, Ayzora entered from Karumantha’s bedroom, her gait resembled a cobra, ready to strike. “You failed, sister,” she purred. “He slipped through your fingers. We have to find another one now, and the spell will be weaker. You should have let me… talk to him.” Karumantha stretched her lean body and smiled dangerously, “We will find one Zora, a strong one, they all heed our call in the end, do they not?” The sisters laughed together. He was fuming as he left Karumantha’s chambers. Both his sisters were deadly, not only did they looked good, they had powers to match that and could lure anyone in. He had stayed out of their reach as much as possible, spending time with the clans out on the plains instead and he had hid Leagh away in Jyntax’ clan, far off the town. The only town with a name to it on Rattatak. And his mother was oh-so-proud of ruling it. Karking shit… He walked out of the house and towards the speeder pad a bit away from it when he sensed chills along his back. Someone or something was near, watching him. He lifted his head a bit and started to walk again, stopping by his scruffy speeder. Leaning his back towards it, he looked downhill towards the whole compound. The main house looked quite good in the evening light. The red stones softening in Rattataki’s setting sun. Someone stirred beside him, he heard the soft whispering of robes. “What now?” He asked and sighed. A huge pureblood emerged, keeping himself in the shadow of the wall close to Yxakkar and his speeder. “Longing for your mother’s love,” the huge pureblood, Ciheth-Ahn Chephor Thrak, scoffed. “Longing for my sister’s touch?” the rattataki replied in a low whisper and with a tilt of his head. Ciheth-Ahn just growled at that. “What do you want?” Yxakkar didn’t look at the pureblood, he gazed concentrated on the buildings below. The pureblood didn’t smile he just muttered out, “You are leaving?” Yxakkar nodded. “Yes, most definitely. Why?” “You are daring your mother’s ire and retribution by leaving.” “I am.” “And your woman?” Yxakkar looked at the Pureblood then, his gray eyes glinting dangerously. “The one who touches her dies, no matter who the culprit is.” “Would you kill a Sith?” “Without hesitation, I have killed Sith before, as you know. They are not invincible after all. You just have to outsmart them.” The pureblood looked at him, the ember eyes glowing. “Jyntax family cannot save her if your… if someone tries to harm her.” Yxakkar straightened up now, features serious. “You followed us there. You know where she is.” “I do.” Ember eyes met gray as the Sith said, “I have not told… anyone yet though.” “Am I supposed to buy your silence?” Yxakkar crossed his arms over his chest and sneered. “No… and yes,” Ciheth-Ahn whispered. “I will not hook you up with anyone.” It was Yxakkar’s time to scoff. “I can handle… that myself,” the pureblood spat out in a growl. “Well, I have other things to do than standing here, My Lord. Just tell me what it is you want.” Ciheth-Ahn straightened up and grunted, “Nothing, forget it.” With a shrug, Yxakkar nodded and took a deep breath and said quietly, “Stay away from both my sisters for a week, they are planning a ritual up on Kulah summit within three days. If they get to you, you might not live to tell the tale.” The pureblood grunted, “Yes… Just like you, I have seen that becomes of the men that are involved in those rituals.” He paused, sighed and added, “Safe travels, Yxakkar Qoches.” “Thanks.” Yxakkar turned to start his speeder as he saw the pureblood walk away along the wall and then how he melted in with the houses shadows and disappeared. It was time to leave this rock, the young rattataki thought. Now.