What You Leave Behind

[Lord_S_Gray]

A great exposition of the Mak’Tor over time, but also a sober reminder that not many of them die peacefully in their beds – Ha’Ona is pretty much the exception, most of them “die by the Sabre”, and very well integrated into the whole story throwing Karmack round physically and emotionally – he might have lived but I bet there are some moments there he wished he hadn’t – but yeah I can imagine seeing all that will be sobering for Karm, based on past experience his end, Ken and Arnors will likely be just as violent – I don’t think it will change his course he knows that is the job, but seeing and feeling it so viscerally (which was well captured in your descriptions) might bring it home. 

Does raise interesting questions about the entities in the Ancient One though, just what are they capable of, just how much information is in there….

One other point was this - "It's the 'nearly' that bothers me." Slo'Ma'Mack replied.  "I nearly died from that energy transfer, and it didn't save the One Hundred in the end.  And that was with the StarFire in proximity.  Without it..." – even with the starfire there are limits it seems to a Singers prowess.

[Karmack]

A great exposition of the Mak’Tor over time, but also a sober reminder that not many of them die peacefully in their beds – Ha’Ona is pretty much the exception, most of them “die by the Sabre”, and very well integrated into the whole story throwing Karmack round physically and emotionally – he might have lived but I bet there are some moments there he wished he hadn’t – but yeah I can imagine seeing all that will be sobering for Karm, based on past experience his end, Ken and Arnors will likely be just as violent – I don’t think it will change his course he knows that is the job, but seeing and feeling it so viscerally (which was well captured in your descriptions) might bring it home. 

Does raise interesting questions about the entities in the Ancient One though, just what are they capable of, just how much information is in there….

One other point was this - "It's the 'nearly' that bothers me." Slo'Ma'Mack replied.  "I nearly died from that energy transfer, and it didn't save the One Hundred in the end.  And that was with the StarFire in proximity.  Without it..." – even with the starfire there are limits it seems to a Singers prowess.

True enough.   Its an irony of the Mak'Tor that their strongest singers are healers.  Usually the sensitivity to the song and the ability to actually manipulate it are balanced in proportion to the more traditional force sensitivity.  Hence the stronger you are in the force, the less singing ability you have, and vice versa.  The few like Ka'A'Mack are exceptions to that rule, they tend to be strong in both, but even there Karmack is a bit exceptional.  Toss in a 'magic crystal' ...

Yeah, once it becomes known how powerful he has become it will scare a lot of folks, Mak'Tor more than 'normals'.  Odjina was the last true Master of Song, the title since then has been pretty hollow as so many techniques were lost with him.  And the ancient singers like Do'Rian have faded into legend, few believe even the documented evidence of their strength and ability after so many centuries.

And after this ride?  The exchange from "The Empire Strikes Back" comes to mind:
  Luke: "I'm not afraid."
  Yoda: You will be.   You will be..."

[TheDutchman]

Magnificent entry Karm!  Not only did I love the peak into the intermittent Mak'Tor histories (which could be its own separate story!) but also--and most importantly for this narrative--the solution that the residents of the Ancient One came up with to mitigate the destructive effects of the thought bomb was incredible, unique, and unexpected; no "deus ex machina" at all!  Truly superb writing sir!

...But, yeah, I'm thinking Karmack's going to feel that in the morning... And here I thought I beat up Zearic a lot; this was just sadistic...which is right up Mendax's alley 

...but there are still two other bombs out there...

I can't wait to see where you both take us next!!

[Taegin Roan]

I haven't caught up yet, but for TD's Chapter 13, I must say, that was awesome. Normally I'd wait to post my thoughts till I'd caught up, but I'm afraid I'd forget them if I don't.

I love that the Aethan started hinting at why Kazic was drawn to Zearic. Seeing as no one else has mentioned it yet (that I have seen), I will. Ari. Kazic had a deep connection with Ari as her adoptive father. Because of this, he could feel the power of the Aether and the Aethans, and when he met Zearic, he instantly recognized that power, even if unknowingly. That right there is awesome. The fact that you could tie all that together and make it seem natural, like you had planned it all along is the mark of an excellent writer/story teller. I am very excited for what is to come, and cannot wait to see what happens when D'Aylanna and Jorya see Zearic (if they actually do ). Plus, if I ever finish SotO, I look forward to the opportunity to work with you three on a project, if you are all willing.

Anyways, more comments when I catch up.

[Karmack]

Teagan, my friend, team writing on this forum seems to be inevitable!  :-)  And you will be most welcome! 

LSG brings a lot out of me, and I am sure Dutchman will agree with me on this, through his ability to lay out an amazing story-board.  While its certainly a team effort and we all put a lot into this, I give him credit for the continuity and keeping us all on track.  :-)

[TheDutchman]

I absolutely agree and support what Karm said 100%.  From LSG's storyboarding to celebrating the team effort to gladly welcoming and anticipating TR's future collaboration(s), I think that our SW Forumverse is better because of our shared continuity!

Gentlemen, I am humbled by your efforts 

Here's to "more to come!"   

[Lord_S_Gray]

I haven't caught up yet, but for TD's Chapter 13, I must say, that was awesome. Normally I'd wait to post my thoughts till I'd caught up, but I'm afraid I'd forget them if I don't.

I love that the Aethan started hinting at why Kazic was drawn to Zearic. Seeing as no one else has mentioned it yet (that I have seen), I will. Ari. Kazic had a deep connection with Ari as her adoptive father. Because of this, he could feel the power of the Aether and the Aethans, and when he met Zearic, he instantly recognized that power, even if unknowingly. That right there is awesome. The fact that you could tie all that together and make it seem natural, like you had planned it all along is the mark of an excellent writer/story teller. I am very excited for what is to come, and cannot wait to see what happens when D'Aylanna and Jorya see Zearic (if they actually do ). Plus, if I ever finish SotO, I look forward to the opportunity to work with you three on a project, if you are all willing.

Anyways, more comments when I catch up.

Thanks TR!
Credit where its due, the fact Karm and Dutch are so open and generous with their characters is what makes this possible and  unfailing support and encouragement means we are always happy to put ideas no matter how strange out there - this connection for Zearic was one of those ideas and everybody made it work, and your reaction proves just how well we did!

[Karmack]

LOL    to bad we can't publish...  :-)

[TheDutchman]

Thanks TR!
Credit where its due, the fact Karm and Dutch are so open and generous with their characters is what makes this possible and  unfailing support and encouragement means we are always happy to put ideas no matter how strange out there - this connection for Zearic was one of those ideas and everybody made it work, and your reaction proves just how well we did!

Again: I could not have said it better myself.  LSG sent me a snippet suggesting such and I just knew that THIS was the way to go for Zearic's arc.  Is it true?  Is it a tactic?  That's the best part IMO: we (as the reader) just don't know...

Props to LSG for an awesome narrative twist and Karm for the ongoing collaboration!

LOL    to bad we can't publish...  :-)

RIGHT!?!

[Karmack]

Speaking of Zearic's arc...  *looks pointedly at Dutchman*

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 15-What Rises Anew, Part I

“Tis way, ay’ts da deepn’est wun!” the bedraggled creature lead them on down the spiral tunnel ever deeper.

“This had better be worth it Bidis!” Misrum snapped at the Churchman.

“It will Master it will, the Lady of Darkness will be most pleased.”

Misrum’s scales itched at the thought of Mendax, the desire to finally take her mantle, but not before she took the brunt of building up their forces.  He had been patient with Mellichae, followed him to Scarida and beyond; Karmack robbed him of his chance and nearly ruined it all but he had learned much and would not make the same mistakes.

The pudgy priest before him, enthralled by Mendax’s Qixoni crystal, had contacted his former Church of the Dark Side brethren who had received a warm welcome on Prakith.  Misrum had promised to return to Mendax with at least two dozen more followers; instead he had gained a hundred including two dozen flagellant berserkers, priests, and Red Police who found Moff Brill’s isolationist policies at odds with their desire to spread the Dark Truths in a “Black Crusade.”

“The Dark Lady even now is on Crusade to end the Singers False Light!” Bidis had screeched with zealous glee to the gathering, the few minor Force sensitives able to sense his honesty.   Bidis might be a flatulent idiot but he was good at missionary work and administering “confessions,” notably discovering the Church’s excavations on the Mining World he was currently delving into.  

“Tittle Far-ta, Tittle Far-ta,” the scruffy vagabond called, while the Church of the Dark Side relied on Brill’s goons to excavate, Misrum knew the value of local knowledge and sought out the least sane itinerant miners he could find.  It hadn’t taken long to find one who claimed truthfully to know a secret route through the mines.

“Dees here…des war built by dem Imps near on five-ten yar back, den up and left,” he babbled on in his vile dialect.  “We came ere took some bits dey left a’fore Moff Brill came…but da Star…ya nay should go past the Star of da Three!”

They had been wandering for the better part of two hours, the tunnel cut by a plasma borer in what looked like a hurry, the entrance deliberately concealed on a mountain side—Misrum suspected it was an emergency exit—as they came ‘round a corner to what seemed like a dead end, the orange pall of the glow stick confirmed his suspicions.

Misrum had spent enough time poking over ruins to know Imperial prefab: this was a service turbo lift door.  But carved into the durasteel was a three-pointed star.

The Miner paused at a jagged line in the rocky floor.  “Tis ere…” he spun and thrust his hands out, “Me fee Kind ‘Sar?”  

Misrum nodded and Bidis tossed him a pouch of credits and the black ore they so valued.

“Fanking you…but I warn ye, da Star…you should nay trifle with ‘tings with da star…but be it on yer own head…”

He had barely finished when red was added to oranges and in a crimson sweep Misrum took his head off before he could go on about ‘ghosts’ or ‘shadow men’ again.

“Be it on your head,” Misrum sneered as the white faced Bidis gestured his small crew forward.  Misrum didn’t really believe there was an “Orb of Annihilation” but someone had gone to a lot of trouble to hide this place; he just hoped there was still something of value hidden away.
“Get this turbolift working.”  

            <<<<< >>>>>

Left behind…that was how Jaim felt.

Smashed out of the vault door back into a tunnel full of violence when Zearic seemed to need him the most.  

A crowd of priests and Red Police were locked in combat with a group of miners who had appeared from nowhere, Jaim had to give up his attempts to re-open to door to dodge the electro-whips and stun staffs as the Red Police mistook him for an insurgent.  It was just their luck to turn up right when an uprising was taking place.

Yet as he watched the power picks cracking open skulls wielded by arms that day-in and day-out cracked dense rock he knew it was no coincidence—a Vhal’Dan Gray Master could not believe in coincidence—a core group of miners moved with unusual proficiency, cutting down the priests and Red Police, grabbing their fallen weapons and passing them on but also bringing their own out from under ragged cloaks.

There was a confluence, the uprising, the door opening, Zearic pushing him out, indeed them even being here—all was connected—Jaim needed to understand why and how if he was to find Zearic.

The last few Priests met their end upon crowbars and effortlessly swung power hammers as a squad of grotty-white armored bodies rounded the corner.  Jaim couldn’t stay out of the fight any longer, he gripped his sabre in his deep sleeve.

“Wilberforce!” A figure obscured by the Storm Troopers called out.

“Mirabella!” replied one of the miners in clipped upper-class tones that were very out of place.

Through the Troopers a scarred Togruta with a severed lekku emerged dressed in knock-about-but-functional looking plate carrying two pistols that gave off an eerie glacial blue glow.

“Captain Tanth!  My pleasure to finally meet you,” he took the miners hand warmly.  Tanth nodded throwing back his hood, he had an officer’s bearing.  “In good spirits I see,” the Togruta gestured his disguised troops forward as they dumped a large crate full of weapons.

“Our forces are ready General Scrubber.”  Tanth indicated.

…That’s it… Jaim knew he recognized the Togruta from somewhere: Jorya Vih’Torrs After Action Report on the Sons of Kessel.

“Hah General!  There’s something I don’t get called every day!  Arm up, set the charges, we have a lot to do…”  Scrubber involuntarily pulled on his remaining lekku as he continued to give orders.

The miners pulled out a series of Thermal Charges affixing them to the…

“Wait!” Jaim called out as the two leaders spoke.  “My friend is in there…”  As one, their eyes turned and he sensed their suspicion; he wasn’t talking like a regular deep core ruffian.  Opening his cloak Jaim showed his sabre.  “I am Jaim Monoceros of the Vhal’Dan, here with Zearic Vih’Torr investigating this…vault; he entered shortly before the fighting started.”

Scrubber looked at him intensely, then briefly closed his eyes…Jaim sensed something then in the Force…not Scrubber using it but…something being sent to him…a communication subtle, anyone less adept at telepathic Force arts wouldn’t even have noticed.  Yet as soon as he realized it…it vanished—as if the frequency had been changed in response to his mere awareness that it was being used—another hidden agenda was at play beyond even an uprising.

“Vih’Torr…Jorya’s folk…” Scrubber replied as the false Storm Troopers and miners gathered their weapons.  “I’m sorry Sire but we have clear instructions, that entrance needs to be collapsed no matter the cost.  If your friend went in there, no one can help him now.”

            <<<<< >>>>>

Light slowly filled his closed eyes, the ruddy pink of his eyelids became apparent.  Eyelids…that seemed wrong.  His legs hurt, the dank air seemed painful on his bare skin.  Skin that seemed wrong.  Slowly adjusting, he reopened his eyes rubbing the sweat and oil of prolonged sleep from his face…his hands were warm…hands that seemed wrong.  

With a start Zearic sat bolt upright, memories of his last waking moments slowly trickling into his conscious thoughts.  He was not where he had been before.  The room was lit with a white light, around him were heavy but empty shelves, safes built into the wall with doors hanging ajar cleared of their contents.

“This is the vault,” he said to himself, voice echoing in the small room that felt heavy with depth.  His legs tingled as he looked upon them.

Pink, white splotched skin met his gaze, like the skin of a newborn furrowed with odd wrinkles his eyes remained fixed on the thick limbs as he absently felt an intravenous drip on his chest with a hand he shouldn’t have.  As he pulled the needles out he noted the large hand was similar, sensitive new skin protesting as everything it came into contact with.

The medi-plas bag was drained of whatever fluid had flowed into him.  …What was happening…was it a lie…was this a trap…some psychological game to elicit information…?  That had to be it; people didn’t simply regrow limbs and hands…

“And eyes…” he reminded himself verbally, his voice sounding strange as it echoed within the confines of the room.

He was alone, left behind by everyone, too weak, broken, and now…buried.

            <<<<< >>>>>

The opening fighting had been contained to the Vault entrance; the real operation was now underway.

Moving gallery to gallery, level by level, Jaim followed Tanth’s force of former Imperial Officers and soldiers releasing the indentured laborers.  

In between sealing off exits and knocking out overseers, Jaim learned that not all was well in the Constitutional Protectorate of Prakith: a number of officers and Imperial Personnel had objected to Brill’s going warlord and isolating the deep core protectorate.  Some had wished to join up with larger Imperial remnant factions other the Alliance, all Brill had rounded up and sent them to the mines to “reconsider” their opposition to the new order.  Tanth had reconsidered his allegiance very carefully and decided his best chance lay with the “Abolitionist Terrorists” who had a cell in the mines already.

The takeover was swift and unnervingly professional in execution but not without gritty violence in the dank tunnels.  Jaim had seen a lot in his years…but seeing three filthy miners open up an overseer and carefully inspect his entrails—and more disturbing actually finding a small plas-covered pouch of blackstone the overseer had planned on smuggling out—would stay with him for a long time.

He easily kept pace with the ever growing force of “Fwee M’n” as they progressed up rocky annexes roughly cut with fist sized divots every few dozen meters where a chunk of the precious ore had been prized out.  

Tanth seemed to prefer to take Imperial personnel alive and quietly; in this Jaim was able to assist with a number of “suggestions” to surrender.  But for the Red Police and Priests they came across there was a primitive fury amongst some of the prisoners, leading to orgies of hacking with industrial equipment, the runoff channels filling with arterial blood.

Tanth paused at an intersection by the main service elevator.  “Still undetected, the auxiliary security systems up ahead…Briss, Col take the two to the left; you Jedi watch our back, the rest of you with me.”

“Hold off,” Jaim interrupted, “I’ll take care of this.”  He pushed past from behind the trolley of oxygen tanks before Tanth could protest, sauntering up to the trooper faking a limp.

“Why aren’t you at your work station?”  An indifferent voice-distorted accusation flew at Jaim.
 
“Sor Massa, we be haffun porb’em, a sluice gate been a drippin, da water risin and smell lik’ me grand vater foots!”  The tall man inflected.

The two guard shared a glance then banged on the blocky door of the prefab office.  “Raif got another leak.”

“I’m coming…I’m com…” As soon as the door opened Jaim closed the distance between them, with surprise and the Force he struck each one in turn with his saber’s pommel them rammed through the open door and into the office, arm pressed into Raif’s neck until he passed out.

“Good job Jedi,” Tanth noted coming in behind, “Col get on the terminal, make sure everything is—”

-CLUNK-

The white lights died replaced by dire amber emergency lights.

“Shavit…”  

            <<<<< >>>>>

“I assure you Bishop we are taking every step necessary to re-secure the Mines, these insurgents are a pest and lack conviction, they’ll soon surrender.  We’ve cut the power, ventilation and C02 scrubbers; within an hour they’ll be sucking in more Hydrogen Sulfide than Oxygen.  They’ll surrender.” Commander Ysan soothed the crotchety old Dark Side Clergyman.

“An Hour! Unacceptable!” for such a willowy man seemingly weighed by voluminous robes he had a massive voice.  “The Orb must not fall into the hands of heretics and unbelievers!”
 
Ysan had little time for these mad men and their queer proclivities but their efforts to find this magic orb had tripled mine output over the last few months, allowing him to gain a promotion.  And as long as the Credits flowed…

“I assure you we—” his attempt to soothe was interrupted by a blinking red light on his desk.  Priority transmission.  He looked at the Bishop but he showed no signs of moving.  With a shake of his head he pressed the receiver.  “This is Ysan.”

“Commander, we have received word the Insurgents have launched an attack; we are sending the Shield of Prakith to assist.” The firm voice of the Admiral echoed from the comm.

“Admiral…an ISD is not necessary at all, this is a minor—”  But Ysan was unceremoniously cut off.

“Governor Brill does not consider the disruption to his most valuable mine and the work of the Church of the Darkside ‘minor,’ the ISD is enroute and will arrive in an hour and a half.  Until then you will seal off the mine entrances.  The Death Troopers aboard the Shield will then re-secure it.”

Ysan stiffened indignant; they did not trust him to deal with what was likely little more than a strike.  “As ordered Admiral, for Prakith.”

“For Prakith.” The Admiral intoned and severed the connection.  Ysan looked poleaxed.

Meanwhile, the Priest had come to another conclusion altogether.  …They were stalling… the Bishop was sure of it.  Brill was not a true believer—he knew it—he would need to send his own men to get the Orb out, the petty tyrant probably wanted to sell the priceless relics.  “You should wait on the ISD,” the Bishop demanded of the Commander; he didn’t need his fool troopers interfering in church business.

“I will follow my orders,” Ysan said coolly intending to do no such thing.  This was a new era, the Protectorate was new and he would not let some Admiral steal his glory while he had a full garrison to shut this uprising down…he just wished he could remember what that Admiral’s name was…    

            <<<<< >>>>>

“…confirmed,” the Bimm with the huge comms pack turned to Scrubber.  “All the exits have been sealed up.  Sulphide levels rising, maybe an hour before it hits toxic levels.”

The Togruta seemed abnormally calm for such a seemingly dire situation, Jaim thought, as he tried to puzzle out why the Sons were even here; this was a long way from Hutt space… True, former officers would be a boon to their growing army in terms of experience and training, but enough for Scrubber himself to come… And why did they need to collapse the vault tunnel?  Surely looting the place would make more sense…

“Continue securing the mines,” the Togruta ordered absently tugging his one remaining lekku.

Jaim couldn’t read him…it was as if someone had surrounded Scrubber’s mind with mental…mirrors.  Jaim’s eyes were drawn to blue sparks further down the nearby tunnel, plasma cutters disconnecting a mining drill from a rail platform.  They were looting the mines equipment.  But how did they intend to get that out if they couldn’t get themselves out…  

“Master Monoceros…” Scrubber called him over.  “I can’t help you with your friend but I think we both know our best chance is to work together.”  Jaim could only nod.  “My scouts tell me a force is mustering at North 43 entrance.  We could use someone of your talents to act as a bouncer till our ride arrives.”  Before Jaim could speak he felt the ground shake as the vast grav lifts hauling ore up restarted.  “We have a plan, but we need to keep them out for it to work.”  

            <<<<< >>>>>

[TheDutchman]

Chapter 15-What Rises Anew, Part II

Was it true? Did it even matter?  What difference did some ancient ancestor’s origin make to his life today?

But what else explained what they had done…if they had done…was this real?

It felt real to Zearic but he knew that there were virtual reality synaptic interfaces that aimed to achieve just that sensation in captives: make them believe they are talking to their contacts or commanders when in reality they are little more than a brain in a vat.

He stood on painfully soft skinned feet to turn from the table he had been lying on.  The room wasn’t large but filled with shelves, behind him a wall with a small low box and upon that…

“An orb…” Just like the one Karmack had brought back from Dantooine and later Chillum had briefly found on M’Tzigon…but this was much larger, the size of his head.  “The Orb of Annihilation!” he half laughed in his semi-delirious state.  What did it even do…

Something flicked in his peripheral vision and he spun around.  On the table he had just risen from was his gear, even the…

No, it wasn’t the Tenebris Pugione beside his sabers…it was…something else, longer and much thinner with a fuller running down the entire blade.  This had to be a simulation of some kind; objects didn’t just appear.  He had little choice, might as well play along.

Lifting the blade, the big man gave it a few practice flourishes, nodding appreciatively.  He found it remarkably well balanced in his hand.  The Tenebris Pugione had been perfect, but it was much heavier, designed for someone stronger than Zearic to wield.  This was perfect for his…“imperfect” muscles to wield…the Nocte Pugione he idly named it as he dressed.  Opposite the wall with the Orb was an elevator’s rickety rusted screen. 

His new skin blistered even with the minor rub of clothing on his false legs and hand.  As he went to pick up the Orb he placed the Nocte beside it.  Then he noticed what must pass as a sick joke for his tormentors.  Engraved on the quillon were the words:

“She left you behind for a reason” 

            <<<<< >>>>>

Scrubber’s intel had been right: North 43 was breached, but not by the Imperials as Jaim expected.  After the durasteel bulkhead was blasted open he wasn’t met with the familiar white of StormTroopers but rather the barely clothed forms of Flagellant Berserkers, Darkside fanatics who believed the more pain they endured and inflicted in this life the less they endured in the Dark After World of their religion.

Through the still searing hot door they loped down the slope to the Sons line where Jaim was there to meet them.  The salvo of blaster fire took a few, but most became only more energized by the feeling of plasma eating into their flesh.

In less than five seconds they closed the distance, their tremor blades surgically grafted, often replacing arms swinging wildly as electro-shock plugs on their backs fed them with constant pain and acted as a deterrent for any who got too close.  But in the cramped confines there was little choice. 

Leaping over the makeshift barricade his sabre hissed to life and Jaim hit out with a telekinetic wave, the fallen flagellants smiling behind lipless mouths at the thought of slaying a beacon of light that was a Jedi, even a Gray one.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Ysan’s forces were lined up, the Mining drill prepped to breach in behind the insurgents prepared to intercept him at the main entrance.  Just then the sky was cracked by the boom of deceleration, the gray dagger of a Star Destroyer cut into the sky.

“Damn it…” he turned to the Engineers.  “Hurry up! They’re early; I want those insurgents dead in half an hour!”

This would be his victory!

            <<<<< >>>>>

His face was covered in small cuts, the Force alone had kept it from being flayed completely.  Jaim was surrounded by the corpses of the flagellants, each one had cost another cut to his dingy robes, another painful twist.  And still they poured forth.

He whirled in between their tremor- and vibro-blades, his saber shield and sword in one—no saber form could deal with these fanatics, they were beyond reason in the way they fought—this was guttural street fighting without grace or strategy.

Around him the Sons traded fire with the Red Police, Tanth’s reasoned orders competing with the mad religious injunctions the Bishop bellowed at the blasted entry.  Two zealot armies—one fighting for freedom the other for religion—were hammering into each other, in their center Vhal’Dan training and pragmatism met insane viciousness with muscle-straining blows.   

Dipping between the mutilated blade arms, Jaim bisected another of the flagellants edging forward just enough to get a view of the sky…the hideous triangle of an Imperial Star Destroyer above, disgorging fighters and transports from the underside.

Zearic’s quest had ended with no answers, now he would fall with none himself.  Life and death, such was the dualism.  He took another life with a pommel strike on a Force pinned head, and waited to be given death.

            <<<<< >>>>>

“One…Two…Three!” The bulky Fanatic’s shoulder barged the rusted door open revealing they were halfway down the long, wide oval cargo corridor, naked industrial steel rusted and greasy with age, a pile of bodies on the floor, blood slowly drying to crinkle once rich septsilk robes. 

Misrum stopped dead, hand moving swiftly to block Bidis from going any further… “What’s wrong?” he asked.

At the other end of the corridor the cargo lift was approaching…an untamable tide of primal power rising with it.

Misrum stared wide-eyed at what he felt, confusion and disappointment etched across his features as the tide rose higher. 
 
“There’s nowhere to run…”

            <<<<< >>>>>

The lift doors started to open.

Zearic ignited his permafrost arctic blue sabre in his right, the Nocte in his left hand as he appeared between the parting doors.  At the other end of the corridor were Karmack, D’Alyanna, Jorya, Jaim…even Ken and…Ga’v…Kazic…

…You will kill them, all of them…

This was a trick…he was replaying his nightmare once more…the one where he killed them all.  Zearic looked down onto the silver of his sabre hilt seeing his reflection and saw his doppelganger smiling with a wicked grin, mouthful of teeth, the wide face with familiar shaved jowls, brown goatee sporadically peppered with short white hair.  And unlike the real Zearic on some interrogators table, the left eye was not a cybernetic replacement. 

They thought to make him give up his secrets by showing him the people he cared about the most, giving him the opportunity to “un-live” his recurring nightmare.

Big mistake.

Zearic smiled wickedly, his hands tightening on his weapons.

Yes, he would kill all of them.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Misrum reeled back at the overflow of energy coming off this being…but had at least the sense to raise his defense before he closed the gap flailing with mad laughter into the priests and workers as the flagellant’s whirled up their vibro-blades.

There was something familiar about this man, the way he moved, his bulky appearance…someone he had seen on Geonosis…or was is Endor, Sullust perhaps?

It didn’t matter, in a pack on the floor of the lift Misrum caught a glimpse of something draining the light…The Orb…

            <<<<< >>>>>

D’Alyanna spiralled about him madly, he batted aside each strike with ease, crouched low and came in under to drive the Nocte into her sternum.  Hissing with glee as his liar of a wife sagged, he kicked her off into the ersatz Jorya who stumbled back.  Zearic added to their dislocation with a Force blast hammering them into the wall then tossing his sabre like a javelin through them, taking the fake Ken's blade on the Nocte.

He felt strong.  Whole.  Stronger even than he’d been before Gaetana had taken his limbs. 

As was his anger, the rage that he’d thought he’d put behind him.  It flared white-hot like a newborn star.  Yes…yes he could use this…

As he summoned the saber back he spun out to gain space.  Karmack was trying to get around him…just like him…let the others do the dirty work then come in and be the “Sage of the Song” and take all the glory while Zearic was left with the pain, the cybernetics, and ever further behind in the rankings of Jedi.

Zearic poured out his frustrations into rapid flurries that sliced Kens left arm off.  …Heal that one Karmack…!  The big man moved in the same motion to take Jaims head.

Ga’v was banging on the wall as if it hid some secret escape hatch… He ended there with the Nocte in the back of his skull.  …Stay dead…!  Turning, Zearic left the body hanging on the wall.

…Now for the Singer…

            <<<<< >>>>>

Misrum rummaged in the pack; it was not the Orb it was…a dagger… The dagger Zearic had killed Jennira with… …OH YES…! With this…with this he could destroy Mendax when the time came… Now he just had to…

He spun up the Tenebris Pugione just in time to meet the arctic blue saber coming down upon him.  And he came face-to-face with what he could only describe as the largest, maddened human he’d ever seen.  Could this be Zearic himself?

            <<<<< >>>>>

“DIE!” he screeched at his so-called “friend.”  A friend didn’t leave you behind when chasing a madman like Mellichae, a wife and daughter didn’t leave their husband and father when going on a dangerous mission.  His tears were hot and stung in the false eye as he beat down against the yellow blade.

He had to kill him, had to end him, prove he was good enough…if he beat Karmack they’d all see, they’d never leave him behind again…they’d all see… Suddenly, like being submerged in ice-cold water, he shuddered and looked…seeing…

It wasn’t Karmack…

A Nikto cowered beneath him, bloodied and beaten… Zearic stopped.  …Why am I doing this…this is real…

Misrum didn’t know why he had stopped…didn’t care…as the big man paused, his arctic blue blade centimeters from his head…  He ran with all the speed he could muster to the escape turbolift, the Tenebris Pugione gripped tightly in hand…

Zearic rocked slowly back and forth, finally feeling the blisters all over his legs and hand as new skin was rubbed raw.  …IF this is real… All real, then…

He spun around…but the bodies he expected were not there…he hadn’t killed them… But he hadn’t saved them either…they were still in danger.  Something dangerous was running away right now…

But something more pressing was assailing Jaim.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Jaim couldn’t keep it up, he’d had to fall back over the mounds of dead miners, the Red Police, and Flagellants had taken huge losses…but they had the high ground, firing down the angled shafts in pursuit.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse the side of a gallery wall burst open and red E-11 blasts hammered into the flank.  Scrubber was taking cover a few meters back from the front…seemingly cool despite the losses…what kind of fool was he—
 
“TIE Defenders and transports inbound!” the Bimm comms officer shouted between snap shots of his SE-14C.

…This is it…it must… Jaim’s exhausted mind rationalized, hoping, fearing…

Something suddenly shifted…not in the battle, in the Force… He took a chance to look behind him…

“Zearic!”

            <<<<< >>>>>

He didn’t know what was happening, only that Jaim was in danger…and he would not leave him behind.  Vaulting over the crates and boxes used for cover he deflected a dozen shots back to their senders, ignoring his pained feet as he ran to Jaim’s side while throwing the Nocte into a flagellant’s arm. 

Jaim looked troubled—there was a lot to be troubled about Zearic had to admit—and more than a few unanswered questions, but that could wait. 

Back to back they formed a wall of deflection in the center of the Sons line, the blasts slowly dying down…yet that couldn’t just be because of one additional Vhal’Dan.

To the flank the Stormtroopers pulled back then rushed forward, followed by tons of the rubble they had excavated to get in behind the Sons, the gray-brown chunky rock crashing into their already nicked white armor.

Shouts further up the corridor behind the Red Police…they paused, turned…the flagellants charged back up the tunnel they had been pouring down… Then they came back…

In pieces.

Angled upwards, they couldn’t see what was happening…an old man screamed some kind of invocation…then an old head flew back into the tunnel trailing a ribbon of blood in the air.

A figure that should’ve caused Zearic utter terror strode forward utterly indifferent to the pieces of bodies that rolled down beside him.  Jorya had not lied; atop of his exhaustion, Jaim started to sag in its mere presence as the last few Red Police—liquefied was the best word to describe them—as it strode toward Scrubber’s side.

Black Armor.

            <<<<< >>>>>

Things moved quickly: the Miners poured onto the main pads taking control of over three dozen cargo haulers full of several billion credits worth of blackstone.  Overhead TIE Defenders streaked across the sky in flights of six, massive droids that looked like overgrown gray Stormtroopers patrolled the landing pad as the miners and all the equipment and ore they could gather were ferried out. 

The Sons reinforcements held off the few remaining Red Police.  The Imperials simply fortified the Assayers Office in a state of utter confusion as they were given orders by a female Admiral they didn’t recognize from a Star Destroyer hovering above while the miners fled and their cargo ships left. 

Amidst it all Scrubber oversaw the smooth operation with his disturbing body guard beside him once more.

The Sons plan hadn’t gone perfectly but it had done well enough.  Struggling onto Dualism’s Soul Zearic and Jaim gladly accepted the offer to follow the Star Destroyer Unchained out of the system before the Imperials realized they’d been had.

Zearic’s mind was full to bursting with confusion, half answered questions, and speculation.  He needed time to reflect on…much.

However, awaiting them on the Soul was an urgent communique, transmitted along one of the secure frequencies provided by Mak’Tor Intelligence.

And as he read the message from Karmack, Zearic realized he wouldn’t get that any time soon.

[Karmack]

Dutchman, I love it!

The Sons get around!  But this also makes me think that Scrubber is becoming more and more a solid ally of the Aethans, getting closer to the same status the Chiss hold - Ousiders, but friendly Outsiders...

How this will play with the Mak'Tor and M'Tzigon is ... interesting.  The Aethan and the Mak'Tor are in a form of conflict, though short of War, but they're actively helping the Sons, who are friendly with the Aethans...

There's more than a little confusion there.  :-)

But Zearic!  That guys has GOT to have some crazy throughts floating around in his head.  Much to sort out.  But Mendax...

Yeah.  He's a new man ... but Mendax has literally risen from the "mostly dead".... both facilitated by the same people.

Figuring these guys out?  Yeah.  Not anytime soon....

[TheDutchman]

I've got to give proper credit where it's due: the breakdowns are all LSG; I just did the polishing and editing 

But...yeah what a development!

Can't wait to see where we go next 

[Lord_S_Gray]

Dutchman, I love it!

The Sons get around!  But this also makes me think that Scrubber is becoming more and more a solid ally of the Aethans, getting closer to the same status the Chiss hold - Ousiders, but friendly Outsiders...

How this will play with the Mak'Tor and M'Tzigon is ... interesting.  The Aethan and the Mak'Tor are in a form of conflict, though short of War, but they're actively helping the Sons, who are friendly with the Aethans...

There's more than a little confusion there.  :-)

But Zearic!  That guys has GOT to have some crazy throughts floating around in his head.  Much to sort out.  But Mendax...

Yeah.  He's a new man ... but Mendax has literally risen from the "mostly dead".... both facilitated by the same people.

Figuring these guys out?  Yeah.  Not anytime soon....

Yeah problem for the Mak'tor is they don't even know they are in a cold war!

Perhaps its only confusing for mere mortals caught in the games capricious demi-gods who view the galaxy and its 'Tribes' in a way their limited minds cannot comprehend.....