New Beginnings

Drax was summoned to the highest point in the Citadel by the High Priest. The most senior members of the religion have gathered awaiting his arrival. The impression given to Drax by his two escorts, both Trandoshan, was that this meeting was very important. Five white robed figures stand around the altar with Tantrix standing before it with a hand placed on an object resting securely on the small platform. Light spills into the chamber from the Kashyyyk system star. The High Priest confirms with the escorts that Drax was on the way and the group stands quietly staring toward the turbolift.

Drax had been taking some time for himself, alone in his quarters, when he had received word. The words from the Trandoshan messengers were all that the seasoned intelligence agent had to go on with regard to interpreting possible meanings. He just didn't have enough dealings or experience with their race to be able to read them well. Had his purpose here been blown? The Alderaanian had taken a solid minute to ponder his situation, running various strategies through his head while taking into account his own feelings towards the group. Tantrix had come to trust him and his gut told him that this was everything he was looking for. Not the 'he' that New Republic Intelligence had come to employ, but the 'he' that was his own person. His own wants, desires, and needs. The man he had become slowly over time. It was one of the hardest decisions the starfighter jockey had made since leaving Tatooine to rejoin civilization, but it was now time for him to put trust in Tantrix as well. It was time for him to commit to this.

The doors to the turbolift slide open, revealing the form of Drax Rendolen. He is clad in the white robes that many of the Followers wore around the grounds. Both hands were clasped together, allowing for the long sleeves to converge and cover his hands entirely. Emerald eyes scan over the occupants of the room, instinctively sizing each one up and measuring how much of a threat they posed. It wasn't a conscious choice, but rather a result of the years of training and experience. Finally, they simply focus on Tantrix and he allows a smile to form for a moment before suppressing it. After releasing a breath, he steps into the room and starts to walk in the direction of the altar.

"If you believe in fate, you would say it has a very strange way of working. Indeed if it was the power behind the universe I would agree, but my theory is that destiny exists but can be changed by the single will of its object of interest. You were brought here by, what could have been very mundane purposes, Drax, but you have come here and deep within your heart you have found something you never expected to grasp." Tantrix smiles and nods, "These are the highest of council in our religious movement." he gestures behind him, "They have deemed you worthy to ascend to the most holy circles in our religion. To take a seat here means you are loved, respected, and trusted. I feel, it is the next logical step. You have ascended faster and done more than the average seeker since you came. Your dedication to our order has shined a light through these walls." He smiles warmly but it fades.

"This move is not without its price, all members of the most inner sanctum must be true to themselves in the purest of ways, the holiest of truths. They must reveal and cast their former selves aside and ascend to a place of protectors and seekers of truth." he waves a hand and two of the members pull their cloaks back revealing stumps one missing an arm at the elbow and another an entire leg, silently being propped by a crutch.

Tantrix's soft eyes turn to Drax, "To be true to yourself is to not cling to cybernetics and to reveal everything unknown about you to our council. Not to be judged, but to be freed from the weight and sorrow of your past. Your chains will be broken today and you will rise above concepts and find yourself surrounded by the reassurance of truth."

The words made more sense to Drax than Tantrix probably knew. He never believed in luck and he certainly didn't believe that he was on any sort of rigid, predefined path. The man wouldn't go so far as to say he believed this was all pure chaos, but he did want to believe there was a purpose for everything, a reason for all that he had done and all that he had struggled through. Perhaps it was a selfish want, but the Alderaanian wouldn't deny that he clung to it. "I am honored." Drax had come to a stop before the altar now and his eyes passed over each of the others gathered there now, studying them in a new light. He looked to each of those whom had revealed their impairments and as he did so, his hands broke free of one another, coming to a rest at his sides and revealing his own metallic hand. As the charge is given, he raises his hand in front of himself and looks at it while flexing his fingers a big. His good hand reaches under his robes while he looks distantly through the altar and pauses for a moment. "Very well. I will do what is necessary and will not hide who I am." With that said, a several loud clicks can be heard as the arm disconnects from the socket connected to his arm. It clangs loudly as it crashes to the ground at his side. His good hand leaves an empty sleeve to returns to his side, resting there with little else to do. The man's primary gun hand was now lying at his feet. Not that it mattered, with all of his weapons packed with his personal belongings. "I am prepared. What else am I to do?"

Two attendants come to collect the arm as Tantrix steps forward now to examine the stump his fingers running across it, "There might be a need for a surgery we'll need to strip out all of its parts and foundations." He looks up with some sympathy, "Do not fear we are very good at what we do." he assures Drax placing a calming hand on his shoulder, "The physical sacrifice has shown you are prepared for the spiritual sacrifice." The High Priest declares, "As you cast off your false limb, now you must cast off the masks which you wear before those around you and reveal to us your truest of identities. Understand, Drax Rendolen of Alderaan, no one here is a fool and our research extends across time and borders to reveal to us identities and truths of everyone. To complete our collections to expand our knowledge our members must hold truth to the highest pinnacle and surrender all information about themselves to our altar. We have no secrets, everything is stored and we hold no qualms about where we once were." He gestures toward a few members of the council, "Byran Lemisk was related to the designer of the Death Star, the horror of its creation put him in a catatonic state for twelve years. When he came out of it he still ended up following his cousins footsteps and doing scientific research for the Empire only to flee during the emergence of the false Palpatine. He found me in the outer rim and I guided him to peace."

He steps to the side and places a hand on another figure, "Evre Clarkson, was a New Republic Xenobiologist that lost his entire family in the destruction of Gastus IV. He was actually stationed on the world but had left on a short vacation from his research post. After the incident he wandered the galaxy like a lost soul hiring his skills out to the highest bidder to mercenaries and others in the development of chemical and biological weapons. He realized his folly and came to us casting his past to the side in favor of his future. These are just two examples."

The High Priest steps forward, "What can you share with us of your past and present, Drax?

As what remained of Drax's arm is touched, he felt nothing. The end had become a mixture of metal and scar tissue, neither of which could relay to him any sensations. "I have no doubt that they are quite capable and the best at what they do." The man stood in place, staring ahead and gathering strength within him for the next step. While he was in a resting position, he was standing now with his feet a shoulder width apart and his posture perfect. It was as if he were on the flight line, ready to run to his fighter and launch himself into the fray. The same sort of nervous ball was developing in his stomach as Tantrix spoke, revealing each man's past to him in a rather casual manner. He knew the time had come and he was prepared to do it. The more he thinks about the words he will choose, the more his shoulders begin to slump and his posture degrades.

When it comes time, his eyes look past Tantrix. "I am not a model Alderaanian. They say that to fight a monster you must become one yourself. Over time, that is what has happened. I've made trade-offs for what I had thought was the greater good. I started as a starfighter pilot and was later recruited into New Republic Intelligence. In their name, and my own, I admit, I have killed, tortured, and used others to further my goals. I've seen and done terrible things and have hated myself for it. I drink to stop myself from thinking about it, to be able to get a night of sleep without waking up in a cold sweat, to punish myself, and to... find peace. I've loved and lost countless times and the pain of it stabs at me every time I wake up. I have become a shell of a man who simply..." Drax wished for a nicostick right about now and a shot of a very expensive Corellian whiskey. He paused for a moment as another thought enters his head. "What scares me the most about myself is that what I've done doesn't affect me anymore." His gaze is drawn back as he forces himself to lock eyes with each of the individuals in the room and finally Tantrix himself. The time to commit was now. "And I was sent here my NRI to investigate you all. I'm glad they did, to be honest, because I probably never would have brought myself to come here on my own if they hadn't. I understand why they would worry about all of this, but now that I have become a part of it... I see how foolish they really are. I suppose fate brought me here, but it is my decision to end the original path and to walk a new one."

The council grew silent for several moments to reflect on Drax's words and then Tantrix steps forward and nods, "Free yourself of these burdens, we hold you no grudge or ill will. Your past has sculpted the person before us, and I can see no fault in it. Remember you are still alive and there is much to be sculpted and done in the future as well." The High Priest nods, "Your world is changing, for now you will take the title Priest." He bends down and dips his hand the water flowing around the altar and touching a drop to the man's forehead, "Clear your mind of regret. No one can justify the past be it right or wrong, the past is a record our concerns and worries must stay fixated on the present and future. Priest Rendolen, you know truth." Tantrix declares and steps back as another pair of white robed figures approach Drax, We'll prep for your surgery right away. When you come out of it an entirely new universe will be awaken to you."

Clear his mind of regret? The words were easier said than done for Drax. The man had never shied away from a challenge in the past and today things would be no different. He nods his head assertively while doing his best to hide the uncertainty he held inside at that moment. "Thank you. I will do my best to live up to the honor I have been given." He bows his head to the group and then turns to follow the white robed figures that had just joined them at the altar. Would he wake up from this? Would there actually be an operation? What would he do without his arm? Would he ever hold a gun again? Was this real? Were they really taking him in? A million possible outcomes were racing through his mind like championship swoop racers in Beggar's Canyon. He was thinking far enough ahead in terms of strategies and possibilities that he might as well be a master holochess player. Finally, he forces them all from his mind and tries to concentrate on the present. He knew he would survive. He always did.

The subject of this grand experiment was shipped rapidly up to this laboratory on the /Dark Presence/ by members of the cult on the world below. The procedure was simple, remove the remains of Drax's stump for an arm at the shoulder and replace it with a new one, alchemically enhanced and twisted to match Drax's DNA so that it wouldn't be rejected and in addition to that add something the the genetic soup that would alter the Alderaanian forever. Blood drains from the table where the work is done as the Dark Lord examines his subject after a removal of the stump, a pair of droids aiding in the procedure, "Bring me specimen, thirteen-A." he states plainly examining the freshly cut flesh and using the Force to line up nerve endings and arteries, it was more sure than science in Malign's opinion.

A metallic box is placed at a side table in front of the Sith Lord lined with frost from its freezing in a chamber waiting, "This was made for you, my sleeping friend." The Dark Lord smiles opening the chamber to reveal an arm, pale and tattooed with Sith runes. With a gesture of his will the arm floats from the box and he turns to examine the nerves and arteries that would need to be connected and mentally moves them to line up appropriate before moving the arm in place, "Prepare for the attachment procedure." the Dark Lord orders as the droids hand him a pair of tools and a device to magnify his sight.

After several moments all of the nerves and arteries are attached and the final sealing of the wound along with a bacta patch is wrapped around it even though the discoloration was going to be obvious. Silently, Tantrix steps forward from the shadows and bows, "You have done well my puppet come forward and serve your master once more." Without hesitation Tantrix steps forward and Malign grasps the man's forehead with one hand and the new arm of Drax's with another and begins to concentrate.

Slowly, Tantrix seems to grow weaker and more feeble as energy flows from the man into the arm, "I need your life-force to start the reactions in his arm, to make my genetic material to spread through his body more rapidly." he hisses as Tantrix falls backward lifeless to the ground, "I need another one!" he yells to a droid. The process is repeated, several times, and before long there were ten dead bodies laying around the surgical table before the Sith Lord and Drax as he leans back exhausted, "Now wake him." he orders the droids who mix the drug compounds in an IV.

It had been ages since Drax had last been near any sort of medical building. The closest he had come to anesthesia over the last few years was half a bottle of brandy while another man made feeble attempts at mending his wounds in some rundown shack on Tatooine. Despite this, he had spent enough time in more professional hands to know what it was like to awaken from a drugged stupor. The stimulants now coursing through his veins set to work and it is only moments later that the two slits on his face begin to widen enough for a blurred image to present itself to the man. After a few rapid blinks, the image begins to focus so that the Alderaanian can make out the smooth. As the drugs used to sedate him were still potent enough to keep the man from having his full brainpower at his disposal, Drax still knew that something was amiss. There was a sensation coming from his right arm that was far different from any phantom pain he had ever experienced before. It extended far beyond his shoulder, which was supposed to be cleared of any technological traces by the operation. It was as if his nonexistent arm were submerged in some sort of icy fire that was chilling the rest of his body. A hoarse groan is emitted from the man's throat as he attempts to reach over and rub at the nub of his shoulder. "What? Where am I?" His voice, as well, is hoarse from lack of use, which the starfighter pilot attempts to remedy by coughing. As more of the stimulants make their way through his system, he begins to sober. When his hand finds an arm, a real arm, attached to his body, his head snaps to the side to look at it, his eyes widening in amazement and a few expletives slipping in quietly under his breath.

Standing in the corner in his black cloak Malign watches as Drax awakens and he nods quietly, "The truth will set you free, Drax Rendolen." he states stepping from the shadows, "I must say I am impressed with your resolve and your ability to ride and bend the waves of destiny to your will. Everything, Tantrix taught you is true, you must come to terms with truth and reality and your chains will be broken and free your spirit." Malign now stands before the pilot at the edge of the bed, "You see that arm, is my gift to you, a form of apology for how everything at Selene happened. What matters is your life was indeed traded as part of our agreement and Drew was saved. What you forgot is that your life still belongs to my service. The arm is from me, he touches his right arm, you see I cloned this one. So you are wearing a part of me." The Sith smiles, "Oh it gets more complicated." he steps back.

"What came with the arm is both a gift and a burden, my genetic material is now altering your DNA in your entire body. You see, in effect we are brothers now in ever sort of the word." he smiles darkly, "It took a lot of energy to make the reaction where my enzymes and proto-genes began to attach themselves to yours but now you are truly a Damion and are part of my family heritage as much as your own." Malign smiles, "The truth is, Drax, you are tied to the legacy of the Sith like all those who serve me, and you are going to help me bring a dictated galactic peace to the universe. I am going to sculpt a new universe, a new galaxy. We are going to uncover all the truths in this universe, you, me, Axel, Malif. We are the future and our minds will come together to form a galaxy where all children can live in harmony." He waves a hand, "Flaws will be flushed out with the pursuit of truth. The first truth!" he declares loudly, "Is that I am a very bad man, but wield a very holy and right cause."

The feeling that something is terribly wrong is amplified as a familiar voice echoes in the laboratory. Drax's head spins in the man's direction as he continues to speak and he finds himself unable to do anything but shake his head in disbelief. His eyes drop to the Sith's arm before he looks to his own, holding it in front of himself to move his new fingers and turn the hand around and stare at the runes tattooed into his skin. Drax's eyes widen with anger as he hears about the catch that has come with this tremendous gift. The anger that was apparent on the Alderaanian's face begins to disappear and is replaced by horror as the man continues to describe just what has transpired. The black ops agent shakes his head more emphatically now and reaches over to the IV in his one arm to rip it out before rolling to the side and off of the table.

The twisted, deceased form of Tantrix, the man Drax had come to respect and trust, greets him from the floor. The very sight of it sends the man scurrying away frantically while still unable to take his eyes off of him. His movement is ended as he hits yet another body and now he looks at each of them in horror. In his chest, his heart is racing while he is starting to breath heavily. "This isn't happening... I am a pure blooded Alderaanian!" His heritage was all that Drax truly had from his past that he could look to with pride, even if he hadn't lived up to the peaceful lifestyle typical of his people. He rolls over on his side, lying at the foot of the bed amongst those who were used to create this "miracle." Continuing to breathe heavily, the man simply stares at the ceiling. He wanted to run for the door to try and find the nearest way out of... wherever he now was, but finds he just doesn't have the will to move. After all these years, it had finally happened. He was broken. "A very bad man, eh? Well, I guess you've got me beat there." Saying something had managed to help him calm himself as he shifts back to sit up against the bed, examining the new hand once again. "As much as I want to be mad at you, I can't. You simply played your part. I planned for it..." Drax's neck goes slack and he lets his head drop back to hit the side of the bed, finally resting there. "The sick truth is that it may well be that only the Sith have the stomach to do what is needed to bring peace back."

Malign watches the man's reaction with a measured expression. Silently he steps forward and bends down to close Tantrix's eyes, "He served his purpose." he says quietly and almost reverently. He waves a hand as the bodies used in the animation process are bagged by a pair of droids and gently moved to one side of the room a few, including Tantrix, stored in a specimen stasis tube. His hardened rusted, yellow eyes turn briefly to look at Drax, "There is nothing sick about the truth Drax. Facts are just that and you are right, only the Sith have the stomach to do what is necessary and needed to bring peace to our broken galaxy. You see, I have taken the next step and took a former enemy and transformed him into my family. You are still Alderaanian, but now you are also Damion and therefore Sith." The Dark Lord turns now to face the Alderaanian stretching up to full height, dark energy pouring from his hardened figure, "Drax Rendolen, bow to your new Master, because I am taking you on as my apprentice. I will teach you all the secrets of the Sith and together with our agents we will build a galaxy that will accept our peace."

The Sith Lord steps back silently, "The white robes are your tool now. Your tool to aid our organization. Your service to the NRI will become our weapon, and you will lead a religion that will expand and bring peace and justice to the galaxy. The mantel of Tantrix, is now yours and you will lead the Theocratic Republic of Truth in his stead through a puppet or on your own." Malign smiles briefly.

"Like it or not, I have reached into the murky mist of fate and selected you among trillions because you and I are alike. Victims of tragedy and broken by strife and war. We are the same, you and I. So our sacrifices match and our solutions will be what answers all galactic problems. With that arm take up your post with feeling, flesh, emotion, and live for the moment. However, never lose sight of our true goals. Be vigilant to help our organization, and in effect help shape it and the galaxy."

Silently Malign reaches into his cloak and pulls an amulet from it and pitches it to the feet of Drax, "Wear this with the pride it deserves, but hide it when you are beyond our borders."

When his name is spoken aloud, Drax looks to Malign and his eyes lock onto him with the same intensity he had when on the tail of a TIE fighter in the thick of a dogfight. His new, runed hand stretches out and accepts the amulet, letting it and its chain pool in the palm of his hand while marveling at the way it felt. The sensations he had felt from his prosthetics were similar, but they were just never quite right. It was like eating leftovers from a fantastic restaurant. Sure, it was still good, but it could never compare to being fresh. His eyes close for a moment as he makes an attempt at processing everything that is happening around him, all the while knowing this had just turned into another one of those decisions where he had traded the very last part of his very being, just to save his skin. He could see Leia on the day that he had been given this mission, telling him he needed a purpose. How right she was. "Logistically, I don't know how NRI would react to me taking a public role at the top of the religion. A proper puppet will be necessary. Based on my gut feeling of things. It might be wise for me to make more of a push to finally accept promotions within NRI to dig in deeper there." As his eyelids pull back, they reveal is eyes, which are staring exactly where they had been before shifting to the ground in front of him.

Drax pulls the amulet over his neck and straightens it a hair before leaning forward to pull away from the bed, finally coming to a rest at his knees before the other man. He takes in a breath and looks up once again, "I am honored that you have chosen me--" His voice cuts out as he has difficulty continuing the sentence. It was the final word that would sign his name to this verbal contract. "...Master. I will do what is asked of me and I am honored to receive your teaching."

The Sith Lord nods, "Very well, a puppet should be established. You are entrusted to the religion now. It is vital that the transition in the religion be smooth and thoughtful. We will have to generate a story about Tantrix, or simply replace him with an impostor." he says simply. Malign reigns in his perception and concentration for a moment to probe the air for mistrust or doubt, no doubt there was a lot for Drax to process for now and he decides it would be best for him to reflect on what was happening. The Sith Lord shrugs, "You have had a busy day, you can rest here on the ship or return to Trandosha to the Citadel. Take a few days to study the materials you were given access to on the world below." he presents a datapad, "And read this. The mantra of the Sith and our organization here you must be prepared to serve and lead when necessary. You are a trusted individual here, do not fail." With a gesture the datapad is left and the Dark Lord sweeps his cloak around his armored figure and retreats from the laboratory. A pair of droids flank the Alderaanian prepared to follow his instructions and lead him to his desired location.