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| - Someone hides deep in darkness, in a back room without electric lighting. Nor is there air condition, and the air is close and hot and thick. And he does not breathe. Haquien walks slowly into the room, things crunching under his heavy boots. The Force extends weakly from him, searching, searching, until it retracts. Several give the Officer strange looks. "Amalfiel?" he asks the room, the shadows, in a calm, quiet voice. He takes a shallow breath, perhaps in nervousness. Deeper. Amalfiel is deeper, in a back room. He is alone. Haquien steps further, hearing no reply, and into one of the dark rooms. "Amalfiel?" he calls out again, his tone quiet, nervousness still present. Finally, when he arrives in the room where someone hides deep in the darkness, he gulps and breathes heavily. "Amalfiel?" he asks, his voice quieter still. Soft is the voice which replies. "Why do you disturb my tranquility, Haquien Maut?" "Because.. I need your help," Haquien replies slowly. "I am sorry to do so," he adds swiftly, "but I was sent here.. or rather led." He focuses on the shadows. "May I explain?" There is a long, soft sigh ... "I suppose you must." "I was sent to Black Space to uncover some of Doctor Xibril's research in order to publish, or provide, some of it to help stimulate cures for many of the ill in the Galaxy. I met with the Doctor, but he sent me to you, saying that you were the answer." Haquien sighs. "I don't want to ask what I'm about to. Not because of pity, but because I see, now, more than I did before. I am almost ashamed to come here for the reasons I am, except for one thing: it is for the common good." "You met with my creator?" Amalfiel asks softly. "Did he say anything interesting about me?" "We discussed clones in general. He mentioned that you were superior," Haquien notes simply. "But.. nothing else specifically about you." "I am ... more perfect." There is another sigh. "What do you want from me, Haquien Maut?" "I want to draw some of your blood into a syringe, then take it back to Republic space and have it analyzed so that treatments and cures for fatal illnesses can be discovered." Haquien sighs. "I know at least one person that will benefit. I had a dream, remembering you wished to save Aure Kaia from darkness, but we both failed, I think, before her death. But now we have the opportunity to save Jana from death: she suffers from a horrible illness, one that you are immune to, despite her blood. That is how I came to realize what the Doctor meant: you are immune to a great deal, and your blood could help many." "My blood is golden," Amalfiel says quietly. "But once it flows in your veins, it will never leave." "I will not give it to some fool who will abuse it," Haquien explains, after a brief moment of silence. "I swear to you, on my life, that your blood will not be exploited. It will be used for curing illnesses only." "I will let you carry it in your own veins," Amalfiel says softly. "The nanites will prosper in your cells. My own flawed and misconceived DNA will wither and die. You will heal my Mother, and then she will hunt me down and kill me. So be it ..." "She.." Haquien begins, but it takes him time to rally a defense, "I will speak to her." He walks closer and extends the syringe for him to take, pulling it from a pocket. "Here," he suggests, a touch sad, as he pulls on his armor and begins to scoot out of it until his arm is exposed. "We do not exchange blood in that barbaric fashion," Amalfiel whispers. "There is no peace in a world remediated by machines. And I will take your blood as well, Haquien Maut." "Very well," Haquien replies. He pockets the syringe, then fits his arm back in with a grunt. "Then how?" he wonders afterwards. The voice is cold, faraway, calm, and distantly amused. "You must kiss us, of course." "Kiss you?" Haquien queries calmly. He considers Amalfiel. "That seems.. pardon me.. an odd way to pass blood." He considers the Clone, then takes a step closer. "Pardon my questions, but.. I've only kissed two people in my entire life. I don't think I have passed blood in either." "Never fear, sweet Jedi," Amalfiel says with the same dry, distant calm. "We have our little ways." Haquien sighs. "Very well," he notes, some suggested, mild regret in his reply. He kneels down on his knee in front of Amalfiel, but ends up watching him instead of doing anything. After a short pause he puts his hand on the Clone's shoulder and leans forward, planting a kiss on Amalfiel's lips. The clone's lips peel back. His teeth are razors. Amalfiel Renatalis slips out of hiding. COMBAT: Amalfiel Renatalis lashes out at Haquien with his teeth! Defense options: +PASS - +DODGE - +BLOCK with bare hands COMBAT: Amalfiel Renatalis hits and moderately wounds Haquien. Amalfiel's kiss is not without an element of pain. Specifically to the lips which will be lacerated and the tongue which will be pierced. But his own tongue, it seems, is not immune to his bite, and gold blood trickles in a thin rivulet from the corner of his mouth. Haquien calls out in pain, reeling as blood drips from his lips and tongue, spilling between their chins and onto the floor. After several moments he pulls away, falling onto his back, as the golden blood finds its way into his torn lips and bitten tongue. His hand moves to his face, trembling, as he tenderly touches his lips and breathes heavily. Amalfiel's smile is just barely visible in the faint glow emitted by his blood. "You will, no doubt, heal scarless, as my blood performs its task. Be advised, my dear Haquien Maut, that my blood cannot survive in an abiotic environment. You must transmit it to Mother in the fashion in which you received it. A kiss ... from afar ... from her misfortunate offspring." The blood has already begun to close the wounds, working slowly, though Haquien cannot speak. He sits up slowly, breathing heavily still, and winces often. Nodding calmly, he says or does nothing more. The smiling Amalfiel wipes his blood on his sleeve. "And you will live forever," he says softly. "Your DNA will live forever. If you should be struck down, Haquien Maut, never fear. My Creator will renew you. It is not so bad, this second life. The prices we pay are seldom the prices we expect to pay." Haquien looks up with a mild frown, then swallows and wipes away a tear or two. He stands up and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Finally he speaks, "I'm not sure I want that," though his speech is slurred. "I will not die?" "In a manner of speaking, you are eternal," Amalfiel says with a soft laugh. "Just as I am. Tell my Mother I love her and tell her that she is almost the last one left." Haquien rubs his mouth again, the wounds closed, but still scabs. "Hmmm," he mutters slowly. He looks up again, then says, "I.. I will speak with her." He frowns. "Thank.. thank you," he notes. He turns to leave, moving slowly. Amalfiel Renatalis offers you a Force bond. Force bonds should represent a profound emotional connection. They last for life or until +staff intervention, and have IC consequences. If you don't know what you're doing or are unsure of this Force bond, +forcebond/help and read the file before accepting this bond. You accept Amalfiel Renatalis's offer for a Force bond. If you haven't read +forcebond/help, you ought to now. "Give my love to the Guard woman," Amalfiel says with great placidity. "My little brother regrets their scuffle. He meant no harm, I assure you." FORCE: You reach out with the Force and feel that Amalfiel Renatalis is powerful with the Force and full of peace. He is right in front of you. Haquien chuckles for a moment at the distant memory. "I will tell her," he offers. He continues to move along, his steps loud as his boots crush against broken items on the floor.
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