Chapter 14 — Wreckage
Sofa
They had taken two jumps to a Lagrange point between the singularities – as safe as you could be in the Maw…Valens looked terrible…whatever he had gone through hadn’t just been physically draining - his drip virtually empty….mentally…he had been conscious…fully awake and concentrating for the whole three and a half days following on from five days plotting jumps constantly…that couldn’t be good even for an Aethan.
After he had pinned Jo’Set, he had deactivated an astromech guarding the Mak’tor ship, then using the dead Ubese Capitan ident codes summoned their three ships and slaved them to their own…even wracked and depleted his mind was still sharp and strategic…the ancient Aethans had designed them well…in that respect at least.
He flopped back in his chair…she felt a little useless, so far all she had done was make sure there were water bottles and ration bars beside him. In the cargo hold the black stone sat silently soaking up the light. Was Shilea in there? She couldn’t tell.
The sorrowful benefit of his state of exhaustion was his normal guards were down, she could feel his innermost emotions…
Guilt…despair…failure…inadequacy…
She had studied advanced counselling at the temple…her clinical judgement meticulously diagnosed him without conscious effort…he was severely depressed if not yet actively suicidal…
It didn’t excuse the way had had ostracised her…but it did explain a lot…twenty years of murder and lies instigated by genocidal levels of trauma had finally caught up with him.
Yet how could anyone help him…no conventional therapy would work on a mind steeped in a culture as…bizarre and complex as his…no one could offer grief counselling to someone who with good reason believed that the dead could be raised.
She mentally recited a calming mantra to steady herself…focus her mind as a Jedi Master should…it only partially helped…
“You need help…” she whispered
“I won’t ask what you saw there…but it didn’t make things better…if you want to talk…”
He stared blankly into the swirling blue clouds that rimmed one of the dark holes.
“I wasn’t born…” he said
That was…random…but she leaned forward to listen
“I was made…they made Aethena first…the two Aethenaeans…no mother...no father…she was to be a living Goddess…and I was the back-up plan…if she went bad I was designed to kill her.”
Milaea had told her a little about their peoples past…but this…to create a child simply to kill another…Sofa didn’t know what was more shocking, that she wasn’t really surprised by the fact they would do that, or that she had chosen to become one of them all the same.
“In lieu of that…they threw me against the Sith…I killed…and killed and killed…a weapon to protect Aethans…and I failed…I lost it all and I can’t bring them back…”
It wouldn’t have ended with Shilea and Cilina Sofa realized…it would’ve been Karintha and Yorna next…then Taran and Andis...names Sofa had never heard instinctually plucked from Valens mind…and on and on until every last one was back…
“I was made to fight, made to win….what use am I if I lose?”
She felt her cheeks wet with tears as she slouched down…his emotional state threatening to drag her down if she remained connected to him any longer.
What have I done…my future...every cell in my body chained to a depressed psychopath. Half in a trance she pressed a bottle toward him and headed to the refresher…
Closing the light blue door she flopped onto the seat, head in her hands…
<<<<>>>>
Jo'Set'Mack
He raged and fought…trashed and screamed in his own head but still couldn’t move!
“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!!! You Scum bag Sith…you killed my Sister, my Master, my friends….you’re dead you’re dead!!!”But his words never reached his tongue…the frustration was killing him…why couldn’t he move!! What dark power could keep him so confined? .
It didn’t seem to diminish…hopefully Four eight would activate sub routine Light box any second and blow them and this foul place to pieces…
But nothing happened…
He simply floated chained within his own body watching the bodies float around the blue lights…full of rage and bile as they serenely drifted in one,
Two,
Three full orbits…
Over all the years, all the fights in which he had used the force on someone else…to manipulate their thoughts, pin their limbs…he recalled each and every instance as he floated there….
He had never stopped to consider what that must be like…to lose control of your own body…your own thoughts…
The violation…the indignity…to feel your own body rebel against you…
This he had inflicted on dozens, hundreds over the years…
Only now did he understand himself what it felt like - Trapped in his own body by someone with powers he did not understand and could not resist…
He had done this to others…
Now he knew what it was like…how could he ever…EVER…violate a person like that again…
Another full orbit passed by…he had lost count of how many that was…
Finally he crashed to the floor.
“AARRRRGGHHHHHH” the primal scream came from his very soul
<<<<>>>>
Yoda
“I want that trench finished in twenty minutes! You, get those speeders moving!” The deep voice of Oma boomed across the camp.
Dantooine force had arrived three hours after the skirmish, already they had 24 Jedi on the ground, tents, speeders and scanning equipment were being set up in five camps arranged in a rough circle on the edge of the 10 KM zone they had encircled.
Delta2 fighters screeched overhead under the watchful gaze of orbital scanners, the humidity of the jungle rendered thermal detection unworkable, but their presence would deter any aerial extraction attempt.
They would find them…it was inevitable…
Yoda gazed over the bodies beings loaded up for extraction, three Jedi dead, three injured, a poor start for his first engagement as Grand Master. Those causalities were on him, he had moved in too quickly without back up, now he had to make up for it by making sure that he got all of them – not just Jarys and the female – ALL of them.
At the far end of the Medical Tent Yshrrk was testing his arm, the glass removed from his wounds, his shoulder popped back in, the ministrations of three expert healers had him fighting fit once more…
There would be more deaths…it was inevitable…
At the other end helping Sintat was Soryu…he had been honest, stating the Aethan Jarys had communicated with him shortly before the attack…yet any communication was only adding to the suspicions they held about him.
“Master Yoda,” Oma’s gruff voice interrupted,
“Sentinel, speak,”
“Camps 2 and 4 are online, patrols have begun, as per your instruction six man teams at all times, the sensor net will be online in fifteen minutes”
She was a brutal woman, one of Kimars weapons of choice, but she was an excellent leader and strategist with a gift for logistics – like so many of Kimars favourites she was simply too useful to cast aside - whatever his other faults Kimar knew how to spot talent.
“Scans cross checked with the Ardent every 15 minutes ensure, all camps operational within the hour must be.”
“It will be done Grand Master,”
<<<<>>>>
Jo'Set'Mack
His fists were pummelled into bloody pulps against the metal floor, eyes in an insensate red haze…he kicked over ancient boxes, stomped angrily on the Ubese corpses, slammed his own head into the wall…
How, How could he be so…so…shamed…dismissed!
He bit down drawing blood from his own lip in a twisted act of flagellation.
His apoplexy was only broken when Four Eight appeared chiming frantically.
He exhaled deeply ten times before his message sunk in,
“They disabled you…full reset…last orders overridden…so that’s why you didn’t…blow the station”
He fell onto his back and stared into the ceiling at the floaters completely spent…
“How long since they left,”
A low thrumming beep
“Three hours!” he had been pinned by a force grip for three hours!
His breathing increased, he couldn’t stop himself hyperventilating…Valens the man who had killed Odjina, killed Ho’li had stood emaciated in front of him…and still managed to pin him for three hours…Jo couldn’t take it…
Blackness over took him
<<<<>>>>
For Better or Worse
The empty ration bar wrapper swayed gently in the ventilations breeze, the scent of synthesized proteins and tangy heavy metals more irritant than appealing – the Chiss could fabricate the nutritional elements required but not make it taste good …his body nonetheless instinctually performing the tasks of recovery using the new raw materials without his conscious effort…
Designed to survive…no matter what.
His fourth level of consciousness absently worked through the implications of the Mak’Tor his eidetic memory recognised as Jo’Set’Mack from Odjina’s picts and the Ubese being at Sinkhole…a Mak’tor ought not to seek him for vengeance…this one was unstable…still he doubted Mack would hire Ubese…he would have to investigate the ships he’d slaved to his own and the body he’d taken with him…
Meanwhile his fifth considered the creature he had encountered in the Maw…fortunately it was trapped…but it would not remain so forever…
Slaying the Ubese with aetheric lighting allowed the Abeloth thing to siphon some energy off them, a concession for leaving Sofa and himself unmolested…there were legends of such being…called the Ones, or Celestials…perhaps this creature was the truth behind those myths…either way he would need to devise a way to destroy it.
Designed to strategize no matter what.
His third level sensed Sofa nearby saddened…confused…vulnerable…indifferent or unaware of the thin trails of pheromones she was secreting as she entered her fertile phase
Designed to reproduce no matter what.
The comm on his hip beeped a frantic little tone…their Quantum entanglement comm network…
Kiraea…he read the message then closed his eyes…the gentle uptick of combat hormones lifting his mood slightly…
[Myrkr - Yoda + 24 growing – Surrounded – limited arms – 75% energy - K]
He had underestimated the speed at which the Jedi had recovered, he didn’t think Yoda would return from Rakata Prime for another year at least - by then they would be long gone, all loose ends dead, buried and cremated.
I failed again.Sofa felt the emotional lift – an ugly sense of purpose built on others death…he was an unrepentant murderer…she had known it when they were with the Jedi…but convinced herself it was Kimars orders - now she knew – Kimar simply fed the daemon.
Yet Valens was more than that…wrote her love letters, bought her gifts, watched trashy holo-dramas with her, they never went more than a few days without contact no matter how far Kimar sent him. Supported her during the Child Abuse Commission - listened, never judged or pushed her – took all the ranting and raving she threw at him – didn’t even flinch when she’d hit him.
Even in this last round of hurting each other – his guilt was built on the fact he loved Her so much and couldn’t reconcile that with the cultural imperative of loyalty to Shilea. Twisted every way he failed to get Shilea back and ostracised Sofa in the process.
He was broken beneath the weight of his own impossible expectations and crippling indecision in personal matters.
But that was him – what about Her – she didn’t want to be tied to a man who was so messed up, she wanted a new life, easy and peaceful with the slightly nervous but kind man Valens could be - who switched to a ferocious protector when she felt sad – find a home far away from violence and struggle, safe enough to start a family. If she couldn’t find that with Valens and the Aethans then…
Her mind and body were tired…in particular she felt clogged in a strange way, a tightness in her abdomen – she’d never had much trouble in the way of period pains before…but then she had just had a major shakeup and knew Milaea cycled every nine or ten days.
For now the physical congestion was nothing compared to the emotional one – Sofa just wanted to dissolve the stress away. But Life wasn’t that easy.
Sighing she made up her mind, he’d stuck with her when she was in trouble…she owed it to him to do the same – up to a point.
The pile of empty ration bars twice as high when she had left, the bottle empty…Valens looked better…hung over rather than emaciated.
“OK…OK…” she gathered her thoughts,
“We need to get out of here…and you need to put this behind you…” she knelt in front of him,
“You couldn’t get them back…I figured as much or you wouldn’t be so…” placing a hand on his knee she continued
“You’re not a failure…you can’t expect yourself to do…things only a God could…” moving up she clasped his head in her hands,
“I’ve given up a lot for you…a LOT…give this up for me…”
He had already lost so much…he couldn’t lose Sofa as well….she was…just as important as any other Aethan…
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, “I failed you…”
She nodded and slowly got up to sit on his lap arms around his neck, pulling his head to her breast.
“Don’t treat me like that again…talk to me,”
He could taste her pheromones building with every passing second…Valens wondered if Sofa was even aware of just how much those hormonal patterns might be affecting her thinking.
“I’ve always been there for you…you’ve always been there for me…remember the badge…”
He recalled the little sad ewok,
“Hug me I need help,” he echoed as she squeezed around his neck
“I shouldn’t have come here…I should’ve…taken you to Hapes or Alderran…”
She leaned over to kiss his forehead feeling in the aether how contrite he truly was, and a willingness to let her lead him out of his pain – it would take time but it was a start.
“We can still go there now…”
“No we can’t…” his voice returned to its steely norm as he summoned the comm.
Sofa’s heart fell as she read Kiraea’s message.
<<<<>>>>
Kiraea
She tied off another tightly wound strand of plant fibres, giving it a flick to make sure it was taught…another trap prepped…
Shallow caves dotted this region, they took up residence in a chamber at the centre of near two dozen water worn channels, most only the width of a leg, a few large enough to crawl through, emptying into the chamber whose roof was cluttered with dead roots, floor marshy from the recent rains.
While Jarys kept an eye on the Jedi, she prepared the traps and food…glancing toward the usual opening wondering when he would get back - she felt like a housewife…
They were growing in number out there…soon they would start looking in earnest…she had to be ready…but the Jedi had them at a grave disadvantage.
The shatter point healing had fixed her ankle well enough for walking and short bursts of speed – but by running on it so soon after injury she had made it worse…to fully set she needed additional Calcium and Carbon isotopes not found on Myrkr so her cells could regenerate the near diamond strength bone properly. It was too dangerous to sleep, cycling 4 levels of consciousness on 2 off could keep them going for months if not years, but diminished their intellectual advantages.
And then there was their general nutritional needs – frequent high impact combat and healing would use up the unique amino-acids, minerals, metals and radioactive isotopes they relied up to function at an optimal level - and whilst they could digest almost anything organic – cellulose, bone, hard woods and survive for months without eating by using fat stores, their skins low grade photosynthetic ability, and rumination – Myrkr’s ecosystem simply did not contain many of the raw materials needed to completely recover what was used.
And Jedi patrols and over flights had scared off much of the fauna that could provide some trace elements they needed.
A subtle…growl…resonated in the aether…Jarys had caught the scent of an isolated group – the first skirmish had sent Jarys into a cold rage – in his current state few Jedi he had now tracked would live long enough regret upsetting him and threatening her. There was something very arousing about having him as her unthinking, almost purely instinct driven protector.
Sparing a glance at the next sharpened branch she noted it was too short for the trap, she hadn’t been paying enough attention…Yorna was better at things like this…”Pay attention, more haste is less speed,” Karintha had censured her.
A vibration between her breasts she pulled her comm,
[EnRoute – 34 Hours – V&S]
The roar of another flyover echoed in the hollows – 34 hours…ideally Jarys could steal a speeder and get them away – their precision piloting in dangerous jungles would allow them to escape pursuit easily – but if they had to stick it out they could – just…
Either way - She’d need more traps.
<<<<>>>>
Jo'Set'Mack
Quiet…finally quiet…
The dead silence of the empty station…Four eight had to drag him back to the Rain Song…he had been unconscious for nearly 18 hours after his berserk rage…Four-Eight had prompted him awake to make sure he got some fluid and food.
He sat in the silence as the shame of…defeat? Was it defeat to not even get in range to land a blow…no it was just…failure…abject failure…
He had been beaten without even a fight…shamed and broken…then left in a rage…he glanced at the cuts he had inflicted on his own hands from pounding the unforgiving floor…where was the balance in all this…
He could blame it on the fact he had been awake for nearly three whole days before then hours fighting Ubese…but Valens had if anything looked worse than he did…and still….
He should just give up…go back to Ha’Ona...back home…
No that was the quick and easy way…he couldn’t shut his eyes to a Sith Lord who controlled a Jedi master loose in the galaxy, and had done Maker knows what in this place…
It wasn’t just justice now, wasn’t just revenge…this was protecting the galaxy…but Valens power…Jo needed allies.
<<<<>>>>