Ziost - Crown of the Sith Empire

Tyr hulked over the pilot aboard the Midnight Howl, taking up too much room in the cockpit, directing him to the massassi camp where Xal had said he’d be. He had his commlink in his hand, trying to reach the arkanian again.

"Tyr...?" Xal's voice came over the comm, it seemed shaken and weary. "Are... are you alright?"

There was static as Tyr replied, “I’m fine, where are you?”

"In the camp... the lab..."

Tyr heard the strain in Xal’s voice and immediately knew what had happened. “Stay there, I’m coming to you.” Placing a hand on his pilot’s shoulder, the shistavanen squeezed pointedly.

“Ten minutes, Mister Tyr.”

“Ten minutes,” he relayed down the commlink.

"I'm not going anywhere..."

Twelve minutes later, Tyr was leaning on the panel that was supposed to open the door to the boarding ramp. The pilot had lowered the ramp, but the door was programmed so as not to open until the ramp was completely stationary. Skrakking safety protocols, he shifted his weight and leaned harder against the panel as if he could override the programming with his impatience. Finally, the door opened and Tyr marched down the ramp and headed for the lab.

The carnage of the mind-controlled rampage was obvious. The recovered imperial forces were tending to the wounded, the dead and assessing damage. Xal was in the lab alone with GR8-1 at his side. He did not appear to be wounded, but he was covered in dirt, ash and blood. The droid turned as Tyr approached, offering a quiet nod and stepping back. Xal, however, was focused on a monitor.

The monitor displayed video footage of Xal. It showed him with his lightsaber, walking through the lab and out into the camp, cutting down anyone who came near him. His movements were erratic, as if each step was a struggle, but he never stopped.

Tyr stomped over. It took everything in his power not to simply put his fist through the monitor. “Don’t watch it,” he growled.

"I'm just trying to understand why." he answered. "Was there any purpose to it, or were things here that meaningless?"

"Remember when you said the Emperor drew his power from the people?" it seemed blatantly obvious to Tyr that while the carnage had been undirected, the Emperor had a pretty clear intention for controlling his subjects. "You were forcibly enlisted to fight against us, against me."

"I know." he looked at Tyr. "But why like this? Why so random and directionless? The massassi talked about killing their queen. The rest of us were just sent to kill whoever we could. It's so... meaningless..."

"You're not going to find meaning in chaos," Tyr growled, "stop torturing yourself." He impatiently moved back towards the door, he was tired and wanted to get back to his ship.

"If there was meaning to it. If I was chosen intentionally for something, it would be more tolerable." he turned to follow Tyr, motioning for GR8-1 and the camera droid to follow.

Tyr didn't answer, there was nothing he could say. Boarding the Midnight Howl, the human pilot was waiting for them, "take us back to the spaceport," he ordered. Turning to Xal, "galley and common room is through there," he pointed in one direction, towards the front of the ship, "refresher that way," he pointed the other direction. "Make yourselves at home, just stay out of the cockpit."

Xal simply found a place to sit down. GR8-1 got some water for him.

Tyr stomped to his quarters. He removed his armour, placing the pieces on the specially constructed stand after inspecting each carefully. The shistavanen peeled off the underclothes, throwing them into a hamper in his private refresher to be washed later. He shook out his fur and stalked back to the common area, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, looking over at Xal.

Xal sat quietly, holding the water and taking occasional sips.

"Is he dead? Do you know?"

Shaking his head, "not for sure, but the massassi queen certainly is."

"That's not good." he sighed. "That could be very bad."