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Personally I think I'd be fine with anyone as long as its not Obama. I'm not a racist or anything but he is seriously a HORRIBLE president!

Yes. Yes indeed.

It's like a cat fight... you know its bound to happen one day but you never know when it will happen. Like being hit in the face with a brick.

Interesting. That scene where George has to kill his buddy reminds me of DA2. ^_^ But I think you'll find Slade well worth some sympathy as more and more of his past is revealed. And we still don't know everything about Riordan and Kain either. The stories yet to be told...

Bit long. Hope its worth the bit of neglect.
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Slade returns George's cold glare with more icy efficiency than the Jedi had managed, haunting blue eyes falling from the other man's form as he wanders off to find a peaceful place to think and relax... a place to escape the stench of blood and spoiling flesh. At one time Slade's actions would have sickened himself even but now.... He sighs. He'd long ago accepted his curse... embraced the monster lurking within him. It was a necessary evil he would endure for as long as he was able in order to prove himself; prove he was worthy of her sacrifice. Worthy...

The old vampire shakes his head, immediately pushing aside ancient memories and dangerous emotions. He would never be worthy. Never. And digging up the past as well as dwelling on how he felt did him no good whatsoever. The tender remains of his human heart where fragile, a place the curse would sink its twisted claws deep. He sighs again, closing his eyes once more as he tries to will away those memories, the soft cries of Safira ringing in his sensitive ears.

Tears drop to the sand, sinking quickly as if the world was dying of thirst. Riordan does his best to comfort the Jedi though he seems somewhat uncomfortable in his attempts, trying to avoid as much physical contact as possible. The noble wasn't exactly the touchy type when it came to acquaintances. However, Safira merely pushes him away, refusing his offer, turning on her knees to face Slade instead, her colorless eyes stare up at his soulless blue ones as he opens them to confront her.

"H-how could you do this to them?" she demands, her voice low but thick with a fiery bite. "Why? They... they didn't deserve this..."

Slade's eyes narrow and something in those cold blue pools seems to indicate the vampire's mental snap, Kain rising from his examination of another corpse to take a step back while Riordan lowers his gaze. "Why?" Slade wonders, his cool but edgy voice reflecting his slightly unstable mental state.

Safira lowers her gaze as well, suddenly regretting her choice to speak out. She knew what the other Jedi and soldiers were thinking but none of them had dared to say anything directly to the man. They all feared him, feared his power... whatever it was. And they were right; she should have been so wise.

"Are ya askin' me why I killed them?" Slade continues, appearing genuinely concerned about the matter. "Ah, I know what you're thinkin'. You're thinkin' 'cause I felt like it..." he adds, the veins in his temple suddenly twitching, the vampire's control of his temper rapidly fleeting. "You're thinkin' that I felt like huntin' down some damn Mandalorian sand nomads and slaughterin' a whole lot of 'em aren't ya?!" he roars. "They attacked me first, damn it! If they f***in' paid for that mistake with their lives, it's their own damn faults. I can't f***in' bring 'em back from the dead. You'r-"

The man stops in mid-sentence, eyes widening and pupils dilating. That... that presence... so faint he almost didn't notice it. He growls sharply, looking around for the missing Jedi member. Jutasz, Jetti! Where'd ya wander off to now? Safira immediately senses a presence as well, the Jedi spreading her hands out on the desert ground as she reaches out through the Force touch whatever it was. There!

o.O.o

George plops down onto the sand, leaning back against the rock behind him as he watches the sun begin to slowly set in the distance. Without Safira and the others around he felt like he could relax some. For now he didn't have to hide and the galaxy felt at peace. His heart suddenly skips a beat and the breath in his lungs is swept away, eyes widening as they focus on the tip of a throwing knife not but a millimeter away from plunging deep into his right eye. Im-impossible!

The Jedi's eyes warily travel upward from the blade to find Slade's predatory eyes, gold fires igniting within those deep, cool pools as the vampire looks down at him, obviously disappointed the other man had let his guard down so easily. He-he had stopped the blade? The slender form slung awkwardly in Slade's left arm begins squirming frantically, the vampire simply dropping them in response.

The person hurriedly scurrying over to George's side. Safira brushes Slade's hand aside though she appears uncomfortable doing so, as if touching him disturbed her. The blonde, however, seems to have no problem obliging, turning his attention to the desert around them as dusk settles.

"Master Jedi," Safira cries, "are you alright?!" Her touch sends power coursing through his veins but he quickly realizes she is only searching for injuries. "We detected the San Dwellers in this direction. We thought they might be organizing an ambush..."

"It might not have been an ambush," Slade asserts, drawing Safira and George's attention to him, "but their intentions have been clearly stated." The vampire glances back down at the two Jedi over his shoulder. His gold eyes narrow dangerously. Those eyes... they craved a kill. "They threaten one of us and they've threaten us all."

Safira reaches out instinctively when Slade begins to walk away, grabbing hold of his wrist. "Please, don't..." she begs.

The vampire turns with a sharp growl, gold eyes shimmering in the dimming light with rage. George notices Safira's own hand still resting on his body but before he can stop the inevitable heat rushes through his body sending unbearable power slithering its way deep into his veins, darkness suddenly enveloping his mind in a familiar firm hold...

The lights of the ship burn brightly in the dark driving rain, water leaping from beneath the monstrous vessel as engines along its belly shoot hot breath at the ground, the momentum lifting it. The sleek, silver ship rises into the night sky, a beautiful star for an instant before it disappears into the blackness which cloaks the planet. Rule stands quietly in the pouring rain, golden eyes falling from the sky as he hangs his head. A steady hand runs through drenched blonde hair as shadows shift around him, giving rise to familiar forms.

The man turns with a growl, eyes narrowing as a group of figures surround him. Death was nothing new to him. It was visible in his stance, the tensing of his muscles, the biting fire in his voice, and most of all in his cold, merciless eyes. He was ready for it to claim his soul. But he would not lie down and die for any weakling. No...  he had to give his lady time to escape, to get out of range. Afterwards... he'd commit syku. It wasn't exactly a glorious death but unless Vikirnoff or his Riikega had come to finish him it was the only death he would accept.

The darkness moves suddenly, Rule easily stopping the punch, his hand completely crushing the fist in his grasp, pulling his daring first attacker closer, his bloodthirsty fangs tearing across the other vampire's throat. He tosses the vampire to the side like a toy, acid blood sizzling on the fabric of his open robes to be quickly cooled by the driving rain. The second and third attackers move simultaneously, the blonde man blocking each blow and delivering a devastating one to each vampire's face in return, their skulls shattered completely.

Rule blocks the strike of the fourth vampire as well but the vampire lashes out with his other arm, the blonde vampire dodging the blow so it lands above his shoulder. Rule quickly twists his arm around his attacker's, a firm hand crushing down on the other vampire's shoulder as the sharpened nails of Rule's free hand sink into his throat and rip the flesh from his body. The blonde vampire turns to the fifth and final vampire, surprised. Five? Only five? Even if they were the best Vikirnoff had to offer besides his Riikega they didn't stand a chance. It was a wasteful slaughter. But Vikirnoff knew that... so what was the ace up his sleeve this time?

Enticed by the smell of blood the fifth vampire lunges at Rule, only to have the blonde vampire's hand crush his windpipe. The other vampire struggles, clawing wildly at the iron skin along his arm in a desperate attempt to escape. Rule slams the vampire into the ground, nails biting into the flesh of his attacker's chest and chin as he pulls the two apart, revealing the other vampire's vulnerable throat. Rule's ravenous teeth sink deep into the fifth vampire's throat, the creature turning to ashes which -ladened down with water -cling to Rule's shuddering body. Rule sighs on a shaky breath as he leans back onto his knees, looking up into the night sky while the rain continues to slowly wash the blood from his skin.

The monster I've become... the blonde thinks to himself.

The sudden sound of footsteps immediately brings the blonde vampire's attention back to the makeshift battlefield, senses expanding as he searches for the nearby presence. Only there is no one there... or is there...? "So... he sent you after all," Rule murmurs, his voice dangerous and animalistic.

A figure materializes from the shadows, pale skin contrasting the haunting darkness which swirls within the depths of callous, unforgiving eyes. "Razvan," the blonde vampire hisses, whispering the name as if it were poisonous itself.

Razvan nods simply, a meaningless acknowledgement of the other vampire's existence. He tugs the hood of his dark robes further onto his head to keep from getting completely soaked. It was a futile attempt. "How the mighty have fallen, Saluin. I expected much more from a man of your stature and power," he states with obvious distain, superiority dripping from his voice.

"Sorry to disappoint you so," Rule bites, naturally uncaring.

Razvan's eyes narrow and he shakes his head in disapproval. "You were a fool to betray Mir'athorin... to refuse a blatant order. The Master wishes me to bring you back alive if possible. But... if it is death you seek so badly I will grant you one final chance at redemption: commit syku. Here. Now. In His name..."

"I will not honor that bastard with my death," Rule answers Razvan's suggestion.

"Your title grants you little leniency, especially now, Saluin," Razvan growls, eyes burning with black fires. "You are a traitor. You live only because you have not attempted to strike me nor do I wish to rob Mir'athorin of the pleasure of killing you with his own hands. But I remember my promise well, Saluin... do not test my control."

"O, en'odam-sarna pide," Rule whispers, pausing to look away from Razvan to save his pride. "Kuras... kuras eka, Razvan..." Razvan's eyes widen in realization as Rule's voice suddenly lowers and the blonde vampire continues:  "Gondet koter ai jone'ka le saluin pita wake. Pel'o, Riikega," he demands darkly. "Kuras eka..."

Razvan remains silent for a moment, obviously taking the matter into consideration. Revenge. It would be so sweet. He quickly catches himself, however. "No," he refuses Rule's offer. "No, I won't... not yet. Death is too easy an escape for you. We shall see what the Master has planned for his misbehaved pet..." *

Slade snatches his arm away from Safira, almost taking the woman's own arm with him. "Baka!" he snaps. "Pel'kod sokta eka wer'te ati coro nena'det pide!"

George immediately notices the goosebumps racing over Safira's skin and the Jedi woman shivers. While she had apparently only been a middleman in the event which had just transpired, a portion of Slade's power had nonetheless traveled through her body before it reached George. It had to be... devastating.

...Ilum, Valley of Glass; before the entrance to the Crystal Temple...

"Alaric!"

The woman's frantic cry echoes over the barren valley as blood spews across the snow, the crimson liquid sinking deep, staining the pristine blanket. The black wolf falls to the ground in a bloody heap, lungs burning as they desperately grab for air, muscles tensing beneath a silk, ebony coat as the creature does his best to fight off the pain. Soft tender fingers suddenly dig into his fur.

"Alaric!"

Alaric lifts his head slightly, opening his eyes, the icy roof of a cave greeting him. He turns to find the woman who'd saved him, blonde hair cascades down a beautifully soft face, ghostly blue eyes glowing in anger, her armor and axe drenched with fresh blood, rose petal skin stained by that sinful thing. She reaches out, those slender fingers slipping through the fur just behind his ears as she pulls him closer.

"Alaric," she whispers, her voice shaking.

The wolf whines, moving his head into her hands. "Sangria..."

A sadistic laugh brings Sangria and Alaric's attention to the mouth of their hiding spot where two figures slowly emerge from the snow storm waging war against the frozen planet outside. "Well, what have we here?" a cool, observant voice wonders.

"So they wanna die together," a violent and disturbing voice answers. "How f***in' romantic."

Alaric growls, the warning deep and low, the large, armored wolf doing his best to rise to his feet. His legs shake, his stance unsteady and body shuddering as blood gushes from the open gash in his belly, the warm liquid pooling at his feet. He moves to shield Sangria's body with his own.

Daisuke shakes his head. "Ya just don't know when to quit do ya? I'll be happy to finish what I started," he adds with a smirk, flashing his fangs as he licks blood from his fingers.

Sabien's haunting greenish gold eyes lock with Sangria's, blood dripping onto the snow from his own fingers. "Give us the key and we shall leave you, Guardian. Your companion will not live long in his condition and that time will be drastically shortened if he continues to try and fight."

Alaric bears his massive fangs at the two vampires. "Enpel'kod vigiak so'en kure! Altes sieladet ravakod gori'gon tu pohi'a! Sangria!" he roars, turning his head so his red burning eyes land on the woman behind him.

Sangria reaches out towards the vampires, her fingers extended, blue eyes glowing brightly. "Summon... Sigur!"

...Korriban...

Natayla's fingers trail over the text engraved in Jester's armor. "Perhaps... but now is not the time. We have more important things to see to. There are seven keys and only so many of our kind. We must move swiftly if we wish to outdo the fullbring who hunt the same prey as we. Come. Let's hunt us down a ship captain."

And with that she disappears, headed to Korriban's landing area.
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Ah, done! ^_^ Okay, hmm... where to begin. Slade's eyes are naturally blue but they actually turn gold when he's getting ready to kill or craving blood. Oh and you'll notice the memory George relived this time has nothing to do with him. Exactly. That's cause Safira's power to read people subconsciously transmitted one of Slade's memories to George when she touched both of them at the same time. Now Slade's walls are impenetrable. So how'd Safira's power even subconsciously access one of his memories?

Touch. Slade's body is a minor weakness [and he knows which is why he lashes out at Safira. But he doesn't know George saw one of his memories...]. Any powerful Force being has the ability to delve deep into that mind of his as long as they're touching him. Riordan and Kain aren't powerful enough to do this [like Safira and George] but they still try to avoid physical contact with Slade to keep the man from getting uncomfortable.

And yes, the big bad Slade only kills 5 vampires instead of something like 10 [as I'd originally planned]. But hey he did it in like 20 seconds! That's bad ass. ^_^ But wait... he kills off 5 vampires easily and then just surrenders to Razvan? Doesn't seem like Slade I know but as I've said Slade's very complex. At this time in his life he wanted nothing more than to die in the most gruesome and painful way possible. However, he wasn't about to let weaklings take his life [he still had his pride].

Mortis and Razvan were bound to torture him and Slade would have deemed himself worth nothing more and when the time came would have died satisfied. Though we know he didn't die and he's now trying to survive for as long as possible so I wonder what happened and why he changed his mind about his fate...

Also Sangria is the Guardian of Envy. Envy is located on Ilum -a frozen, wasteland of a world -to represent how longing for things others have will leave you cold and bitter. Alaric is not a Guardian with Sangria nor is he the embodiment of envy [such as the monster in despair]. Alaric was a mortal who Sangria fell in love with. He was mortally wounded in a battle and so Sangria bound his soul to that of an immortal wolf. As his power grew, his physical body grew. Thus Alaric's current large form.

Vampire Vocabulary:

Jutasz, Jetti: Damn it, Jedi!

Syku: honorable death - a ritual suicide by disembowelment reserved for important/high ranking individuals as a form of capital punishment when they have committed serious offenses or when they have brought shame upon themselves.

Riikega: Second

Saluin: First

Mir'athorin: Dark King [Mortis]

O, en'odam-sarna pide. Kuras... kuras eka, Razvan.... Gondet koter ai jone'ka le saluin pita wake. Pel'o, Riikega. Kuras eka...: Yes, I remember as well. Kill... kill me, Razvan. Take your revenge and my title in one swift stroke. Do it, Second. Kill me.

Baka! Pel'kod sokta eka wer'te ati coro nena'det pide: B*tch! Don't touch me unless you want to lose your hands as well!

Enpel'kod vigiak so'en kure! Altes sieladet ravakod gori'gon tu pohi'a: I don't care if I die! Your cursed hands shall not lay claim to the key!

o.O.o

OMG now that ya know that Riikega means "second" and Saluin means "first"... yeah, you guessed it. ^_^ Slade was Mortis's First before Razvan. o_O That's a bit of a surprise. So just imagine how powerful Slade really is. He's holding back a lot... XD

A 3-foot tall, ass kicking, green humanoid creature thingie which lives to be like 900 years old. I don't think they get much greater... 

Well hey ya know my number if ya ever need me: 1-800-KICK-ASS Glad to hear everything's going well. Feels good to be happy. ^_^

OMG you're back!!! ^_^ HI LSM!!! How's life been treating ya? How's the wife and baby doing? Good I hope.

Sorry for the delay. Hope this makes up for it a bit though. The conversation between the two vampires is a bit tricky because I decided to write it out in the complete vampiric language to give it a more exotic/eerie feeling. I was going to put translations in [brackets] beside the vampiric words but that looked even more confusing so translations are at the bottom like always. Hope ya enjoy

Will have a Force vampire part for the next post and will get to replying to your post ASAP Jest.
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"It's easy to draw their attention if we really want it, I suppose," Safira answers, obviously trying her best to ignore Slade as much as George was. The blonde-haired devil seemed intent on making everyone despise him. All except for the two brothers of course. While the noble's earlier words to the other man had no doubt been to voice his disapproval of the slaughter when it came to the Mandalorian San Dwellers, Safira had easily sensed where Riordan's loyalties lie. The man owed this Slade a great debt... and the noble would not have raised his sword against the other man.

As for Kain... should the earlier ordeal have come to blows Safira could not be entirely sure as to how the fiery redhead would have acted. While it often appeared the man couldn't care what happened to the blonde, the truth was that the redhead harbored conflicting feelings for the other man. Delving deeper Safira had found it was a hint of fear that brought about Kain's unbridled hatred for the older vampire which was then so often cooled by immeasurable respect. It was something she had not expected.

"And there are a lot of different ways to do so as well," the blind Jedi continues. "Some less... violent than others..." she pauses briefly. "The most effective way that I can think of would be to travel to where they were last seen. From there we'll have a much better chance of succeeding in whatever we decide to do," Safira concludes.

George glances back over his shoulder, his eyes finding Slade's form through the sea of soldiers following behind the formation, the Jedi worrying about journeying to where Slade had encountered the San Dwellers. The carnage had to be... horrifying. The Jedi catches a flash of blue as Slade's eyes lock with his own, something oddly familiar lurking in those deep blue pools. The Jedi's breath hitches, fire shooting through his veins as his eyes glaze over...

* Familiar. He knew this once... knew these slender arms which hold him and this soft touch which soothes him in the darkness. It was protection; love. Voices long forgotten seem to whisper in his ears, distant and muffled. Footsteps, quick and heavy, faintly echo in the quiet emptiness. Colors blur and blend together as everything fades in and slowly clears.

Flowers dance along the edge of the long path in the cool, spring breeze, their bright colors slightly dulled by the silver light emitted from the two crescent moons in the sky above. A beautiful woman walks alongside an armored man, her strides soft and graceful so as not to wake the sleeping baby in her arms. Her blue dress clings to her slender figure, long, red hair falling down along the open back as it sways across deliciously smooth skin.

"Maric, please..." she pleads, her voice warming velvet, gentle and soothing.

The man continues walking, the sound of his armored boots hitting the ground muffled slightly only by the thin layer of dirt which greets them. "I'm sorry, Bella," he apologizes, his voice gruff and experienced but his tone tender and sincere, "but the Council has summoned me. We've wasted too much time playing games with this devil they've finally decided; the situation is to be dealt with immediately."

"You just returned home not two days ago and you intend to leave us again? The orders of the Council shouldn't be your only concerns. You have a family as well, dearest husband," Arabella empathizes, holding the child closer.

Maric stops and turns abruptly, grabbing Arabella's free hand to gently pull her to him. "I know, Bella, and that's exactly why I must go," the man counters, crystal blue eyes finding Arabella's haunting green ones through dulled blonde bangs. Maric's other hand comes to rest on the head of the baby in his wife's arms. "I want nothing more than to protect you and our son... to drive away your nightmares, to destroy everything you fear. The Council has called upon me to do just that. How can I refuse them?" Maric adds with a heavy sigh as he releases Arabella and turns away slightly.

"Vikirnoff is completely out of control and the Council had lost its patience in this matter. This time he will not escape us; this time... I will kill him."

Before Arabella can make an obvious disapproving reply an imposing figure rounds the high walled opening at the end of the garden path not too far away from the couple. A flash of gold hair seems to shimmer in the moonlight as blue eyes cry out to light the darkness. The man before them dons a Jedi cloak of sorts, the upper half folded down in a stylish manner to reveal well-defined muscles taunt beneath black under armor. He immediately takes notice of Maric and bows.

"Mi'lord," a familiar voice utters, the cold, fiery bite it naturally holds partially smothered by a surprisingly gentle and submissive tone. "Ah, mi'lady," the blonde man quickly adds, having not seen Arabella initially.

"Rule," Maric nods with a slight pause, "... you're up late. I thought I told you not to strain yourself and go about repairing my ship. The servicemen could have done it. You need your rest."

"I'll be fine, mi'lord," Rule smoothly debates as he stands, bits of oil and grime clinging to the inches of exposed skin along the man's arms. "Besdies, what's the point in having skills if I never put them to any use. Refreshing never hurt," he adds with a small but genuine smile.

"Indeed," Maric simply replies.

Silence. The tension in the air is so thick it rests like a fog over Maric and Arabella, smothering them. "I see I have outstayed my welcome in this situation," Rule suddenly states, bowing respectively when Maric begins looking for the words to explain that's not it. "There's obviously something on your minds you wish to discuss in private," the man quickly clarifies, "thus I shall take my leave." A pause as he glances fondly at the bundle wrapped in a blanket within Arabella's arms.

"Do you want me to take the young master, mi'lady?" he asks, his eyes sparkling with hope. "Midna was wondering who might have snatched the child from his crib at this late hour. I was heading back to the house to check on the matter but it appears I don't need to worry. I'm sure the woman, however, would be pleased to know he is unarmed and would be more than happy to see him back to his crib if you wish a moment alone with your husband, mi'lady..."

"Yes, that'll be fine, Rule," Arabella answers, moving forward to place her baby in Rule's arms as he reaches out as if willing to accept any burden. A loyal and worthy servant. Still Arabella makes certain the man has a firm grip on her child before moving away.

With a nod, Rule brushes past Maric and Arabella who continue towards the landing pad. As the two disappear behind the high wall which prevents the landing pad from becoming an eyesore to anyone relaxing in the large garden, the man stops and glances back. With a heavy sigh he decides to continue towards the house though at a slower pace. He looks down at the baby in his arms, eyes partially open to stare up at the figure who's strong arms now protect him.

"So... the Council summons him to fight their battles again," that smooth voice murmurs. "Tell me, dalit, why do they throw him to the wolves so? Do they foolishly believe he can cheat death forever?" Rule wonders.

The baby doesn't reply obviously but the man continues as if his words had meaning to the infant. Perhaps they did. "But what more would you expect from your father, eh, dalit? A man of few but meaingful words and of brash actions... especially when it comes to protecting those he loves. He reminds me of myself... once," Rule adds somberly, his voice giving away far more than he intended.

He shakes his head, hardening his walls once more. "And like all who dare to play with fire it shall burn him eventually. Mark my words. He stubbornly believes his armor and skill will save him from the flames and they have... thus far. Perhaps served him better than I. But this time... this time he won't escape that consuming fire, won't prevail and return home to a hero's welcome."

"Vikirnoff," he whispers, "has lost all patience for these petty games of war your kind so hopelessly continue to wage against us. This time... he will not hold back." A pause, the wind howling softly as it rushes through the silent garden. "Perhaps..." he begins, the word almost silent, "perhaps I should tell them... tell Maric the truth... tell him... what I really am... it may be my last chance..."

"Ku e mustaa'kod," a raspy voice claws through the air around them, the power behind the words almost enough to send Rule to his knees.

"Ekam!" Rule bites in instinctive response, his tone lacking any and all submissiveness as he clutches the baby close to his chest.

"Te ainaak mustaa ai odam-sarna ki'o e te saro," the voice hisses in return, power mercilessly slamming into Rule's body as it sends relentless fire coursing through his veins until finally the blonde vampire crumbles to his knees in pain. "Jatne myos," the voice chuckles, the sound eerie and haunting.

Rule spits dark blood onto the ground, the crimson liquid sizzling and burning through the soil like acid. His eyes gleam with dark pits of defiance but his voice is weak and once again submissive. "Te... te nunamet aam en astidet... Sarna'ka?" he manages.

"Jetti'a... kasa e oje?" the voice asks.

"Pel'kod oja han eka, Sarna'ka, fu'jutta eka arvod'kod agba," Rule murmurs daringly. "Engem'kod kuly it enatt mane te'na pita en pel..."

"En'el enatt mane madet pide... so'es no fel saakuc," the voice replies. "O'ra att no'pel and."

Rule remains silent.

"Ai avio gond ku terpa nyelv le'dat pide. Ika avio co'att majaknak," the voice laughs softly, mockingly. "Aldyn'id, enrava knak te no olendet, ika'csitri buralit, it'pel de odam-sarna ki'gond bursodet komn'koma owe. Vigyaz ai enra pusm te; lana ai enra kurin te; lamti ai enra kurar te; viia... ai enra sielaboce te."

The voice abruptly flees, the chill in the air dispersing as silence and the spring breeze once again reign supreme. Rule steels himself as he stands to his feet, quickly catching himself with his free arm when his knees almost give way. He glances down at the child tucked safely against his chest, fearful the baby boy was hurt. Wide eyes greet him, silently starring up at his protector. Rule's blue eyes deepen with something impossible to place as the blonde man gets to his feet and continues towards the house as if nothing had happened.

o.O.o

Haunting colors clash in the night, green and blue shadows playing across the two figures sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the intimidating figure standing at their bedside. Lightsabers rage in the darkness, poised to strike, to steal the life from the humans' fragile bodies.

"Pel'o," a voice demands, slithering across the man's skin like some oily poison.

Rule shudders, golden hair drenched with sweat as his grip on his lightsabers tightens, blue eyes completely consumed by golden flames which crave a kill, the taste of blood tingling on his tongue.

"Pel'o," the voice comes again, harsher. Rule runs his tongue over sharpened fangs. Yes... it would be so easy... just do as he says... "Kuras meke!" the voice orders this time, the command behind those two simple words almost forcing Rule to make that single stroke.

One of the figures begins to stir and Rule's heart stops, the vampire relaxing and releasing a heavy yet silent breath, however, when he discovers its only the child, still fast asleep. He studies the infant's face for a moment...

"Promise me..." a woman's voice suddenly echoes around him.

His heart pounds frantically, his chest heaving wildly as his lungs panic. That... that voice. Her! His palms become sweaty, his grip on his lightsabers loosening, his mind rearing as it clings to that precious memory of her for as long as possible.

"Promise me..." the woman whispers.

"Rule, kuras meke and, jutasz!" the first voice roars with rage, the raspy tone cracking beneath the strain.

Rule's eyes abruptly soften and the golden flames flicker one last time as they are snuffed out to be replaced by cool blue pools. "I refuse," Rule states firmly, deactivating his lightsabers so the room is once more consumed completely by darkness. "If you wish them dead so badly, my King, come and get them. If you wish to kill me... I'll be waiting..." And with those words Rule leans over to wake the woman in the bed, her infant son curled up next to her to absorb her warmth.

"Mi'lady... we must leave immediately..." *

Safira touches George's arm lightly, power seeping into his body. "Master Jedi?" she worries.

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Yes, Slade was a caring Force vampire at one time. It's hard to belief but the man is a real softie beneath that cold stone outside. And yes, the face of the character in Slade's Jedi mercenary pic is pixelated. I didn't like the way the girl drew his face. Slade is also more built... like this. ^_^

First things first if you are confused about anything, do let me know. The basic point of this is that George's father [Maric] went off to face Vikirnoff [Mortis] and ended up getting killed (it's not mentioned here but its implied). Slade [Rule] was a Force vampire at the time but didn't tell anyone. In fact, Slade initially became Maric's personal guard in order to keep close tabs on the family for Mortis and to kill George's mother [Arabella] and the baby [George] when Mortis ordered him to do so. (why Mortis does this is later revealed)

Slade begins to harbor feelings for George's family, however, and though he is firmly scolded by Mortis -and considers killing the woman and child when called upon to do so -a voice in his head reminds him of a promise he made. In the end, Slade does not obey his King and helps Arabella and George escape. From George's first memory flashback we know Slade refused to accompany them and in fact remained behind to face the vampires Mortis sent to kill them, giving the woman and child time to escape.

How the whole thing ended for Slade... well, we'll get to that soon I think.

Vampire Vocabulary:

Took me forever cause I actually made it a language. So here's all my efforts. lol

dalit: young master - a reference to an only or first born son who will one day become the 'master of the house'; when used to address an adult it comes to mean "masterless" or "outcast"

Ku e mustaa'kod: That is unwise.

Ekam: Bastard

Te ainaak mustaa ai odam-sarna ki'o e te saro: You should be wise and remember who it is you serve.

Jatne myos: Good boy

Te... te nunamet aam en astidet... Sarna'ka: You... you require something of your servant... my King?

Jetti'a... kasa e oje: The Jedi... where is he?

Pel'kod oja han eka, Sarna'ka, fu'jutta eka arvod'kod agba. Engem'kod kuly it enatt man te'na pita en pel: Do not toy with me, my King, by asking me a pointless question. I'm not stupid but I've learned you know far more than I do.

En'el enatt mane madet pide... so'es no fel saakuc. O'ra att no'pel and: I see you've learned your place... if only to some extent. It will have to do for now.

Ai avio gond ku terpa nyelv le'dat pide. Ika avio co'att majaknak. Aldyn'id, enrava knak te no olendet, ika'csitri buralit, it'pel de odam-sarna ki'gond bursodet komn'koma owe. Vigyaz ai enra pusm te; lana ai enra kurin te; lamti ai enra kurar te; viia... ai enra sielaboce te: And how to hold that devious tongue of yours as well. My how we've progressed. Very well, I shall leave you to your sheep, my little wolf, but do well to remember who holds your leash when the time comes. Falter and I will crush you; refuse and I will break you; hesitate and I will cut you down; fail... and I will devour you.

Pel'o: Do it.

Kuras meke: Kill them.

Rule, kuras meke and, jutasz: Rule, kill them now, damn it!

Vampire Vocabulary Tidbits:

If you're paying really close attention you'll notice that the vampiric word for "serve" is saro, a reference to the late Second.

You'll also notice that the word for "man/him/he" (oje) is only one letter different than the word for "toy" or "to play with" (oja). I did that on purpose. XD

Also the word for "wolf" is buralit... a combination of the noun bur (mongrel, stray) and a version of dalit (masterless, outcast). Thus the name for a wolf in the vampiric tongue basically meaning a masterless mongrel.

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And well... I think that does it for my post this go around. Again, any questions just fire away. ^_^

Well... Slade does tend to leave people speechless. It's part of the charm.

Be back to post later today.
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