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8 hours ago
(This post was last modified: 7 hours ago by Krassus Horuset.)
>> BEGIN ARCHIVAL RETRIEVAL: HORUSET.PRIV.LOG_0397-A (DATE UNAVAILABLE)
>> STATUS: CORRUPTED – PARTIAL AUDIO/VISUAL INTEGRITY
>> SOURCE: PERSONAL DEVICE // KRASSUS HORUSET
>> OPENING FILE...ENTRY I: Farewell Brother
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
The figure flickers violently. A halo of static curls around his silhouette, refracting the evening light of Dromund Kaas. It is unmistakably Krassus, yet younger, thinner, untouched by the Dark side and without his cybernetic replacements.
His face is pale, drawn, lips moving slowly beneath the distortion.
He is seated upon a moss-covered stone beside the icey watered river running through the lower levels of the Horuset estate. He lowers the hood of his Acolyte robe as he was sure no one saw him wander away from the Acolyte camps. Resting his training blade besides him in the grass. The movements of the hologram, glitching, looping, freezing.
His voice crackles into focus, barely audible.
"V—...Valeus..."
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
"... When ...Kromus... sneaked out... for your wed—"
"...I did not go..."
"... Father.... Forbade... So I... Evening training... as ordered.... My Duty."
A long pause. The image skips. For a brief second, his face contorts—pain, or shame, or perhaps both.
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
"...When... K-kromus returned..."
[GLITCHING. CONTINUES..]
"...He was... beaten."
"I-I.... Not Regret it... Then."
[ANOTHER GLITCH... THE SENTENCE LOOPS TWICE]
"But no-now... Last opportunity.... See you."
His words glitch, degrade. Only fragments survive, skipping like a damaged disc.
"Now I...regret... upstart slave..."
"You... older... remote..."
"...studying... never spoke..."
The holo distorts violently. His form vanishes, then reappears. His face blurred, audio warped. When it stabilizes, he's looking directly into the recorder. His voice is low now, hoarse.
"....never will again..."
A beat of silence, Young Krassus' face hardens, in anger, determination. Dealing with sadness in perhaps the one way he was taught to by his father.
"...you dine with Typhojem now..."
"...rest well."
"...I will do you proud..."
[VISUAL END – static flood]
[AUDIO TERMINATED – no further signal detected]
>> END FRAGMENT.
>> FILE STATUS: LOCKED / REPAIR IMPOSSIBLE.
>> NOTE: Hidden under six layers of encryption. Marked for deletion but never executed.
>> STATUS: CORRUPTED – PARTIAL AUDIO/VISUAL INTEGRITY
>> SOURCE: PERSONAL DEVICE // KRASSUS HORUSET
>> OPENING FILE...ENTRY I: Farewell Brother
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
The figure flickers violently. A halo of static curls around his silhouette, refracting the evening light of Dromund Kaas. It is unmistakably Krassus, yet younger, thinner, untouched by the Dark side and without his cybernetic replacements.
His face is pale, drawn, lips moving slowly beneath the distortion.
He is seated upon a moss-covered stone beside the icey watered river running through the lower levels of the Horuset estate. He lowers the hood of his Acolyte robe as he was sure no one saw him wander away from the Acolyte camps. Resting his training blade besides him in the grass. The movements of the hologram, glitching, looping, freezing.
His voice crackles into focus, barely audible.
"V—...Valeus..."
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
"... When ...Kromus... sneaked out... for your wed—"
"...I did not go..."
"... Father.... Forbade... So I... Evening training... as ordered.... My Duty."
A long pause. The image skips. For a brief second, his face contorts—pain, or shame, or perhaps both.
[HOLO IMAGE GLITCHING...]
"...When... K-kromus returned..."
[GLITCHING. CONTINUES..]
"...He was... beaten."
"I-I.... Not Regret it... Then."
[ANOTHER GLITCH... THE SENTENCE LOOPS TWICE]
"But no-now... Last opportunity.... See you."
His words glitch, degrade. Only fragments survive, skipping like a damaged disc.
"Now I...regret... upstart slave..."
"You... older... remote..."
"...studying... never spoke..."
The holo distorts violently. His form vanishes, then reappears. His face blurred, audio warped. When it stabilizes, he's looking directly into the recorder. His voice is low now, hoarse.
"....never will again..."
A beat of silence, Young Krassus' face hardens, in anger, determination. Dealing with sadness in perhaps the one way he was taught to by his father.
"...you dine with Typhojem now..."
"...rest well."
"...I will do you proud..."
[VISUAL END – static flood]
[AUDIO TERMINATED – no further signal detected]
>> END FRAGMENT.
>> FILE STATUS: LOCKED / REPAIR IMPOSSIBLE.
>> NOTE: Hidden under six layers of encryption. Marked for deletion but never executed.
