Remnant of the Aether

[TheDutchman]

I'm reminded of "The Seven Samurai" where the village hires/gathers disparate mercenaries to fight off a numerically superior foe, any sort of success or victory FAR from assured...only this time, the "village" has an "ace in the hole" by way of the Aethans.  Interestingly we see the ramifications of this alliance from both sides: for the Aethans, it becomes another opportunity for them to expand their knowledge- and power-base...which their Dathomiri allies are certainly beginning to question their motives (that's one smart witch; too bad there is probably very little that she can do to stop it now).  But which becomes the lesser of two evils: Lykana or Karintha?

Of course, Aethan morals being what they are, they have no such compunctions against doing precisely that, made even easier by the fact that they were invited (a tactic that we have seen/shall see again...)  The fact that the Aethans do so isn't as interesting compared to why they do it (after the events of the Collapse and the Devastation, I can certainly understand the why, without condemning nor condoning).  Call it "Galactic Darwinism" at its most primal...

Despite the number of combatants being relatively small (especially when compared to the more widespread planetary wars), this new Aethan-Dathomiri War promises to be just as brutal (or more than likely worse), probably leading to even more depopulation for an already depleted populace.  Both sides have several tricks up their sleeves and that surprise will invariably play a pivotal part in victory and defeat.

I just wonder if the only "victor" will be those NOT of Dathomir...

On a side note, I am further enjoying Jo'Set's arc here.  His is ALMOST a Hero's Journey, now headed towards reconciliation, a personal purification of spirit, ESPECIALLY poignant since Jo'Set LITERALLY became a vessel for the Dark Side in his quest for vengeance.  Ironic that those motives which originally propelled him upon his revenge are the same that now inspire his actions during this war: Family. 

Only this time--IF he survives--I think that he'll end better for it.

...But ONLY if he lives 

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 1

The Canyon

“Well there they are,” Kiraea said as they finally spied the gap between the far edge of the Great Canyon and the Great Lakes. 

While over four kilometers long, the eastern side was sandy and hard for rancors and infantry to pass, the western side sloped down into the canyon precariously. 

The walkable 800 metre gap that was dotted by watch towers and patrols,  Most of the warriors of desert tribes out of Chu’unthor, two dozen or so Reapers perhaps 150 in all. 

“The Frenzied River, Misty falls and Singing Mountains clans have only ever paid lip service to Lykana,” Alwyn explained when appraised of the news

“I’m not surprised their warriors aren’t part of the army…still Lykana has placed her troops between us and them,”

The army was at a pause, three circled encampments kept apart by a few hundred meters to ensure if one was attacked the other two could respond.

“We must proceed there nonetheless,” Karintha replied

“But perhaps if we send word to those clans we can catch them in a pincer, force them to surrender.”
“We would have to wait for the reply here,”
“Or we march around the Great canyon,” Karintha suggested
“That’s nearly a week's march…”
“For us and them, it will give more time for your allies to assemble, and make all their defensive work here a waste.”
Logic and reason were Karintha’s greatest tools in guiding this war to her own ends.

Every day they were on the march the Magi, spider clans, beast tamers and witches taught the Aethan women more and more new spells, techniques and abilities. It was in Karintha’s interest to drag this out.

“I will discuss it with the others…but that seems an advantageous course, we could also send word to the Grand Canyon Clan…if they can be turned we could all come together at the western end of the canyon, engage this army there as one, then head west along the edge of the desert straight to Blood Peak.”

It didn’t take long for the other leaders to agree to the plan.

They marched further south, two kilometres from the enemy fortification, then swung west.

Lykana’s General, a Desert woman Zhen’jha could only scrunch her face in annoyance, if she pursued north she risked being on the wrong side of the Canyon from reinforcements. 

Her only recourse was to head along the south of the Canyon following the rebels who marched on the north.

The vast red and orange scar in the land was both sides' companion for the following three days, the gap between them just a little too far for artillery or arrow to reach – though Zhen’jha certainly tried a few times.  She was at least going back on her supply lines to the main fortress at Red Hill, she hoped the rebels were lengthening theirs ever further.

Unbeknownst to her, Knissa and Kiraea had taken a dozen Spider clan, along with Ari and Evaea and stayed behind at one of the narrower gaps. 

A day after the enemy had passed and their last rear scouts gone they used the cover of night to descend the rocky walls, then picks and ropes to ascend the other side, tracking the enemy army.

On the fourth night when both sides had lost sight of each other divided by the widest length of the canyon the first clandestine attacks began.

<<<<>>>>

Shadows in the Night

“Is it ready?” she demanded without preamble striding into the Nexium beneath the Rancors Tooth.

The Coven of Dreaming Pond witches stood around a green glowing crystal bathed in ichor, initiates in a circle about them chanting the incantations.

Her scouts had positioned the enemy force, and they were far enough from her own to use this powerful but indiscriminate weapon.

“It is Dread Queen, it only awaits your activation and guidance to the enemy,”

The Dream Eater was a well known curse among the witches of Dathomir, it could drive a woman mad with seemingly unending false awakenings and waking trauma’s of living their worst fears.  It was reserved only for those who had deeply aggrieved a witch and had to be carefully crafted.

This version was a Power-Pace in comparison, a rain of maddening illusions, while Lykana was under no illusions it would drive any of the stronger minds mad, it would certainly cause them mental pain and fatigue.

She stepped up to the crystal summoning her power from the very depths of the planets ichor heart.

With a grin and white sparking fingers she began.

<<<<>>>>

The terrain was stark, marked by knee high boulders and shrubs, the occasional group of brackasets wandering about slightly bemused by the passage of so many humans through their gazing fields.

In the dead still of night three Aethans spider clan stalked toward the far edge of the encampment.

Scouts and look outs bored from days without anything to note but the occasional dustrat lazily ignored the shadows slightly inconsistent with the glow of the stars above.

The sisters of the spider clan were true to their name, crawling on their bellies fingers and toes like twenty little legs in an astounding display of dexterity and wrist and ankle strength.

Even Ari struggled with replicating the physical motion and Aethans joints had three times the articulation.  At least Kiraea seemed to be feeling more her usual self, excited by the prospect of the stealth raid.

They avoided the wide areas about the southern side of the camp where the animals and rancors were kept.

Ari understood the reasoning behind not using their technological superiority to win the war in mere hours by the mere threat of orbital bombardment, and she knew Karintha was doing what she believed best for the People…

but it made the Dathomiri objects of study and tools of convenience rather than true friends.

She felt the others spread across the camp, their presences tiny as a thumb size spider and just as rapid moving about denying any one the ability the sense it for long let alone pinpoint it.

<In three…> Kiraea whispered in her mind.

<two…> Ari felt the sparks from the black-flint flicker against her hands in purple flame.

<one…>

<<<<>>>>

Her eyes flashed open with a glow of purple and red.

Milaea had been meditating, three of her conscious levels in a sleep state on the edge of the camp.

The aether was stirring in an unusual but familiar way.

“Grandmother, Yorna, Jenaea,” she said at their normal cadence with a high pitch.  Jenaea having only recently joined them on the ground, bringing along with her supplies of clothes and natural weapons, including a number of Aethan Obrio wood spears made by Maeson and Lydan.

“What’s wrong sweetling?” Kassyndra asked,
A moment later there was no longer a question, the aether twisted above and around into lines of potent strange energy, Miraluka ancestry enabled them to see hundreds of tiny comets of ichor green fall toward the sleeping warriors.

“Quickly!”

On her feet in an instant racing toward the third camp's Coven tent where the stronger witches maintained a watch. The other women expanded their metaphysical shields to encompass nearby Dathomiri – not all and themselves but it was a start.

“A curse is falling!” Milaea yelled as she burst into the astounded witches,

“Or it’s about to…”

<<<<>>>>

The slice was quick and clean, a slight bubbling and Evaea smelt the petrichor as the water flowed out onto the dusty canyon sands.

It was hardly as fulfilling as assassination, but destroying the enemies water stores was more apt for the Dathomiri way of war that valued posturing and shows of strength over actual combat.

Kiraea was up ahead going ever deeper into the camp darting between patrols and skirting torch and fire pit light aiming to take the head of the vosis if she could.

Ari noted the difference in approach of the two, Evaea was methodical, mechanical even - a task to be completed with delicacy and care, the old Anzat sensibilities of Kaizen Kree had instilled.

Kiraea using the same techniques of stealth was all emotion, focused but ravenous with blood lust.

Ari was uncertain which was better, or worse.

The spiderclan cleaning began to fall back, explosives placed, lightless fuses burning down, Ari too crawling low on her knees.

Knissa guided the assassins through a chain of ‘dead’ patches between lights they had marked out coming in, Evaea obedient to a fault followed, but Kiraea…

Was lifting the hem of the Generals tent.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 2

The skin around her mouth and temples cracked from its unnatural youth to true age as she cursed in frustration.

The Dream Eater was being stymied – she had expected the rebel witches would offer counter spells and protective hex-rings…but they had reacted far more quickly and effectively than thought.

The Dream crystal groaned with sharp creaks under the power of the Coven as they intensified the draw and the chanting grew louder, curses of torment and terror on the initiates lip made manifest by the older witches.

There were a number of entirely blank patches in Lykana’s minds eye as she ‘looked’ down upon the camp, as if entities that could somehow ‘repel’ Magick itself were moving about gathering those they could to hide in their null zone.

The offworlders, it must be…

She would have to bring in the 14th legion sooner than expected if they were this much of a nuisance.

Giving up on the broad attack Lykana focused on those already suffering, Milaea felt the shift magi and witches with experience making up the gaps between the aethan women’s shielding efforts.

“Jenaea can you take over?”
“Hrnnn I guess…”
“I’ll try and end this,”

Milaea now understood the method was much like Xithar’s Terror Bomb, an Aethan Mind Rend, or Sith Tormentia – and it had the same weakness, the need to maintain a connection.

Grasping just one of the tendrils Milaea wound her mind along the Dream Eater thread to its source, keeping herself subtle and small. 

Few would’ve even noticed.

Lykana, master of the Dark Arts of Allya, compiler and part author of the Book of Shadows was one of those few.

She felt the unnatural presence, the weight of power foreign to Dathomir.  Alwyn and Jeisena had found a powerful witch indeed.   

Milaea was similarly impressed, Lykana had gravitas of decades of experience in magical combat Milaea lacked, the Aethans raw powerful and savant-like intellect not enough to bridge the gap.

Observing rather than acting, Milaea puzzled out the Dream Eater attack as Lykana divided her attention between her attack and building a defence against the intruder.

Every second more of the rebels twisted in their sleep, their deepest fear turned into vivid reality in their own minds causing them to scream in terror.

Lykana was primed to repel any kind of metaphysical attack, waiting for her enemy to make the first move and expose herself more fully.

She did not expect the emptiness that shot through the link.

Milaea twisted the aether into a concave void and sent it hurtling into the higher planes, the Null Spike caused the Dream Eater tendrils to splay wildly, Lykana’s Magick based defences were useless against a Null void that dropped straight through the ice of her barriers like molten lead. 

The dream eater crystal cracked, matter and anti-matter churning into an ambiguous mess.

“NNNGh little bitch!” Lykana yelled, her mouth wide she felt a looseness about her jaw, the nearer members of the Coven aghast.

Slapping her hands to her face Lykana realised the null had twisted off the glamour’s that kept her true appearance concealed.

The witches stared as they saw for a brief instant the degradation 50 plus years of intense use of Dark Magick had caused to their Queens Countenance.

“OUT!”

<<<<>>>>

What is she doing Ari thought as she brought up the rear of the retreating saboteurs, the camp lighting up as their traps detonated, tents full of food, artillery pieces and weapons burning in purple flames

Kiraea would struggle to get out unnoticed, a fact that was not especially high on her priorities.

As suspected the general’s tent was replete with totems and fetishes to ward off malefic spells, it smelt of sand and heat, the furnishings typical of desert dwellers hardy but worn by the harsh winds.

“Sheik Zhen’jha!” A dusky skinned warrior lower face covered by a brown gold burst in
“Spies in the camp!”
Zhen’jha, from Kiraea’s view point behind a chest on the far side of the wide carpeted tent was solid woman with dark skin and darker tattoo’s on her arms and face of flowing scripts that were doubtless blessing and counter spells.

“Sound the drums, I want them found, and bring me a list of every guard on duty, they will be flogged for this lapse,” she said sternly as she stepped out.

Now Kiraea could get to work, her goal wasn’t to kill the general, she had something far more special in mind.

In the breast pocket of her gormin leather vest was a perfect sphere mirror ball, marble sized; it was weighty with the enchantment she had placed in it.

If she had learned one thing from the mad Lucovis it was that your own fears and terrors could be used to ignite others – so she had crafted this miniaturized Terror orb from her own recent trauma.

It had felt good externalizing the feeling into the tiny object.

It would feel even better unleashing them.

Scanning the room she nearly missed the doleful looking male, heavy metal claps around his neck sitting naked in the corner, well fed, but down cast. A slave, and an opportunity.

Crawling up unseen she tapped him on the shoulder even as she wrapped her hand around his mouth.

“You’re close to your so-called mistress?”

“mmm-hmmm-mm-mmm” she didn’t need his voice she could see his thoughts, memories of humiliating degradation.

“You want to get back at her…you can…” she took his hand and guided the Terror Orb into to it, her voice laced with the aether, a Kamurith skull with runic carvings began to slightly glow at her use of the aether, she had to be careful not to use too much.

“…place this somewhere among her battledress and all your vengeance will be fulfilled,” she promised with sinister sincerity.

The slave merely nodded and slumped back down as she slipped out.

There was no way she could go back the way she came, instead Kiraea took the long way, weaving through the northern section of the camp to the lip of the Great canyon, then shimming along in its crags till she was some distance from even the search patrols as the sun rose red over the plains.

“Did you get the general?” Ari asked when she finally found the others
“Not yet my love…not yet,”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 3

Battle of the Great Canyon

For the next two nights the same repeated at a less intense pace.

The Coalition warned of mass cursing attacks kept their sleeping quarters closer to the covens, Clan Mother Yzzerhera taught the Aethans more about the Dream Eater, and others – the Flesh Tearer, and Blood Freezer - to assist them, Jenaea taking a little too much enjoyment in contemplating trying them herself.

Lykana’s attacks were delegated to her Covens. Under the guise of ‘strategizing’ she spent nearly 18 hours and four slave hearts undertaking renewal spells under the Varangians indifferent gaze. 

Kassyndra and Milaea lead efforts to help those afflicted by the curse recover.

The Spider clan attacks focused on ambushing resupply caravans, Adaea, Sofa and Jenaea joining an effort to overturn and scatter half of the carts while Ari, Kiraea and Evaea obtained valuable intelligence, with counts of their troops and more importantly caged animals – mainly Rhoa Kwi, pack hunting reptilians but also a few Malklocs in addition to rancors.

As the march turned the corner of the western end of the Great Canyon they received word by messenger Convor that the Great Canyon Clan along with the others were willing to join their cause and provide warriors – If Lykana’s nearby army was neutralized.

“We have to meet them then,” Alwyn confirmed leaning on the round table before the other leaders, a few beginning to notice more and more how Karintha, the far outsider whose authority was ambiguous at best, had her ear.

“The question is where,” Ianna said
“At our current pace they will reach the Great Canyon Clans village before us, they won’t openly turn if that happens,”

“If we marched double time?” Aun suggested
“And arrive more weary than we are now…no…we’ve put it off long enough, we have to face them…but…” Alwyn pointed to the map

“If we go further west we can position them against the Canyon, give them less room to manoeuvre,”

“A cornered animal is oft more dangerous,” Ianna cautioned “but better them than us.”

“Then we march, and see how the bones fall,”

<<<>>>>

Between the two armies was more of the same scrub land that they had marched for weeks, to the east of Zhen’jha army the great Canyon itself, to their South the village built into the stone of large mesa’s.

Alwyn held to the west and north forming her forces with spears, missiles then swords, Covens dotted throughout. 

Zhen’jha’s front line was a row of bleached wood cages filled with a menagerie of fierce half stared animals, Beast Whisperers communing with the animals to ensure they didn’t attack her own forces, while her covens and artillery prepared for salvo’s of eldritch flame and burning rock.

As was the Law of old the leaders rode out on their rancors to meet.

“Alwyn Hri of the Whistling Caverns,” Zhen’jha declared in a booming voice holding her staff of command, a heavy metallic thing with a skull at the end etched in runes pointed at Alwyn.

Karintha on the far end of the row of eight leaders, noting the object smiled at a joke only she and Kiraea knew for the moment.

“You are to throw down your arms and submit to arrest for Treason against Lykana Queen of Dathomir, those you have deceived may petition for mercy,”

“The same mercy my Clan was shown Zhen’jha?” Clan Mother Yzzerhera interrupted
“The time for bargaining has passed,” Alwyn confirmed
“Will you send forward your champions or do you wish to test all our arms?”

Zhen’jha eyed Karintha quickly
“The time for settling dispute by honoured Law passed when you allied yourself with offworlders,”

In other words Lykana wished to make a statement stronger than just slaying a few champions.

Nothing left to stay they returned to their lines, the banner bearers holding white flags falling as each returned.

As the bright canvas of parlay was rolled the first volleys were unleashed.

Trebuchet and scorpion fired across the plane as the Beast Whisperers slashed the ropes on the animals cage doors, Rhoa Kwi and Malklocs racing across the plane as heavy missiles flew overhead, The Spear women of the Whistling caverns locking shields to intercept the huge animals.

Jo on the northern flanked gulped.  As many fights as he had been in, he had never been in a pitched battle before. He was positioned with the Northmen, they had more hair than muscle.

And they had a lot of muscle.

“Come then bald-one” their chief Haldan slapped him on the back – Jo’s shaggy hair and unkempt beard still ‘bald’ compared to the hoarse northerners.
“Let us see your steel ‘ey!”

They waited for orders as the mad animals reached the front lines, spears drove into soft scaled bellies as the women crouched, shields were ripped by fanged teeth, Rancors lead by Ianna on their leathery wings slapped into the rear ripping up the Malklocs first, a few missiles though began to strike their main ranks as the Bolma cavalry on both sides charged along the flanks.

Jenaea focused on her own task, repeating the words and hand motions to draw on the planets Ichor magic to enhance the range and area of effect of her native lighting and flame abilities as the battle between the covens on either side was added to the mundane.

She twisted the energy into a physical form in the shape of a Triquetra, making her anger and annoyance built up over the years a tangible weapon hurled into the enemy - it blazed through the sky on a high arc, smashing into a diamond shield above the enemy lines, her face fell to think it was wasted, but some shards fell through as the defensive diamond flickered to burn a few unfortunates beneath. 

She grinned as she decided to break that diamond and whoever was generating it.

Zhen’jha’s wild animal charge had covered the advance of her infantry - phalanxes of electro-spear warriors on the sides in a jagged chevron formation, phase whip and scimitars in the centre to counter the enemy spears.

Finally in range the archers and crossbows began to fire, arrows barely visible against the high sun as Jo suddenly felt very exposed.

A horn nearby sounded and the Northmen roared into a charge Jo only belatedly joined.

From still to run he stumbled on the uneven ground before finding his feet, a wall of crackling spears wielded by massive dusky women ahead, Haldan glanced over with a dismissive shake of his head, he didn’t think Jo would get far having the ‘Arts’ or not.

Determined to prove him wrong Jo drew on the force and stepped up his speed overtaking the Chief by a few solid lengths, it was then he lit the red saber to dash a handful of arrows before a force enhanced leap, arcing straight over the electrospears.

In brief airborne moment he saw the whole battlefield, the flanks now engaged but the two centres holding uncertain against each other, in the air and all around a rainbow of coloured energies of the witches spells bashing against each other, and behind both lines the enormous Rancor mount waiting to be used as the trump cards they were.

Back to his own fight he opened his fist to slam a telekinetic wave into the massed spear women, sending them sprawling from his landing zone, coming up to his full height in a solid Shii-Cho to make use of its advantages against multiple opponents – and being the form he was least rusty in.  Gripping tightly he slashed through the first spear aimed at his heart.

It was hard to tell who was winning from atop her Rancor, both flanks seemed evenly matched, the centre only slowly moving together – there Alwyn feared her spear women wouldn’t do so well if the scimitar warriors got in close. 

At least they seemed to be comprehensively winning in Spellcraft. The Aethan woman Milaea was hovering on red flames over the lines blocking most attacks, her companions counter attacks were beginning to wear the enemies defences, but not quickly enough to be decisive.

“Alwyn?” Knissa called from below waiting for orders for her spider clan warriors, even in the full light of sun they managed to find a way to remain hidden.

“Round the Southern flanks see if you can get them from behind perhaps,”  Karintha suggested in between firing off Malacia curses that loped into the Northern melee causing a half dozen warriors to vomit profusely.

It was risky for the lightly armoured assassins but fortune favoured the bold

“Do it,” Alwyn agreed

“I can divert some of my People from dealing with the Covens and lead a charge in the centre personally,” Karintha added trusting in Milaea’s near inexhaustible defensive abilities.

Alwyn knew her allies, or Yorna at least, were powerful single combatants and Witches all, but she wasn’t sure how they would fare against ranked infantry.

“I assure you, we can drive a wedge in their lines for a few moments, then bring in the rancors,”

“This early?” Alwyn questioned

“They will not expect it,” and it will draw their leader to respond so we can unleash our plan Karintha thought.

Be Bold Alwyn her mother would say

“Go, see how you fare,”

<Yorna, Ari, Jenaea, Lyaea, Adaea with me>
<Milaea, Sofa, Kassyndra full defensive>
Weaving through the ranks wearing the thickest natural armours- vosis scale with blackstone chain-link, they were all armed with sword, Naginata’s fashioned by Lydan and Bows with personalised enchantments made by the savant like Adaea.

<Bows> Karintha ordered as they formed up just behind the front line, she smiled at the enchantment Adaea had given her, in addition to the normal arrow teleportation smoothing and life force seeking, it had a confidence draining angst enchantment, the antithesis of the assurance Karintha herself brought to her People.
<Nock…Draw…Aim…Loose!>

Lost among the wooden missile the enemy raised shields confidently - Blackstone arrows were too fast and dense to be stopped by their paltry steel, even those enchanted with wards.

In thirty seconds they loosed six arrows three times each – 108 shots that at least broke a shield or slew some of the remaining feral animals.

<Naginata’s we keep our distance and sweep them two at a time!> Karintha ordered as they charged.

Their allies parted to let them through and the scimitar wielding desert warriors braced to take them on.

Six Aethan women smashed into the main a rank of forty, blackstone blades in obirio wood staffs spinning faster than the eye could see, tearing the Dathomiri to pieces. 

In honour of the Dathomiri tradition of warfare, they avoided fatalities for the most part, shattering armour and breaking weapons, allowing those left without gear to flee.

They drove forward with all the strength, speed and horrific marital finesse their superior genetics had gifted them, the second line resisted with equal futility, the third smarter tried to keep their distance hoping the archers and witches behind could pick them off. 

A dozen shikkars sent on telekinetic wings by Adaea and Lyaea ended those hopes and they tore into the Third line, their allies far behind them still engaged with the first rank.

Breaking through they found themselves face to face with the Reapers, eighteen scythe wielding warriors glowing with ichor enchantments.

As clear as Alwyn had been about sparing the regular clan warriors, she had been emphatic that the Reapers be eliminated, removing Lykana’s terror troops would send a strong signal of the Coalition's prowess and intent.

Karintha delivered – Aethan and Reapers smashed into each other in a fury of oblivion and ichor that soon turned into a number of smaller battles.

Ari and Yorna took on the weight of the fight, back to back fending off eight of the scythe wielding maniacs, Jenaea relatively untested held her own competently against three more, Lyaea and Adaea focused on three brutishly tall reapers brandishing claw like weapons on each arms that bubbled with eldritch energy.

Karintha held the remaining four, including their leader on her own switching her naginata for her sword, in her right hand while her left drew glowing defensive runes and her lips passed Dathomiri curses.

While human the Reapers training and extreme forms of Dark Enchantment made them far more dangerous opponents as they had seen in the first short skirmish.

Hard pressed and surrounded Ari and Yorna found their enemies strength if anything growing as the fight went on, their speed and endurance a match – if they could just take down two they knew they could deal with the other six.

Succour came in the sizzling thrust of Ari’s old training saber that Jo’Set’Mack lanced through a Reapers back, the shock allowed Yorna to chance a roll forward and sever another’s leg, Ari to twist a lightning arc into a third arm setting their clothes on fire, before offering a quick nod to the Gray Jedi.

Lyaea and Adaea used their greater dexterity to round the brutes, focusing on one they leapt and bounced off the other two, then stabbed viciously at the target from all sides after a quick assist from a tired but victorious Jenaea who had to thank Sofa for the ‘Niman’ style Pushing Slash technique that had gained her first kill.

Seeing her centre break and the Reapers falling slowly but surely Zhen’jha had to make a move,
“Call up the reserves to the Southern flank, we can break them there then move to support the centre then mop up the north” she ordered

Just then the Rebel Rancors took flight, astoundingly early they struck into the centre lines, a positioned exposed to missile fire, a risky move but it meant Zhen’jha’s centre could break at any moment

“Fanged God Curse them! To Flight!”

Kicking her stirrups into the rancor she lifted up leading the pack to take the enemy on directly, hoping she got the satisfaction of taking Alwyn’s head and mount herself.

<Kiraea…> Karintha whispered as she saw the march of the Rancors, her own fight with the Reapers turning in her favour as she used her own witchcraft to undermine the enchantments that gave them equal speed with dispels.

<Now.>

A smile coated in the blood of another victim of her short swords Kiraea pulled back from the melee and concentrated on her fears, regrets, wounds, finding the Orb the slave had placed in the staff of command.

And she shattered it.

Tendrils of hate filled mercury exploded across the metaphysical plane raining down on Zhen’jha’s forces around and below her.

Thoughts of battle vanished into childhood terrors that played before their eyes.  The General herself began scratching at her face for the gaping spiders crawling under her skin.  Confused Rancor mounts crashed back into their own lines before the last few skeins of the micro Terror Bomb hit their semi sentient minds and sent them wild among their own ranks.

The Reapers forced to brace against the shockwave became easy prey for the Aethans unaffected by the bomb – Kiraea and Karintha’s modifications had ensure People were immune to the effect.  Her advantage gained Karintha rapidly dismembered her opponents leaving them bleeding and absent one or more limbs.

Alwyn could not believe what she was seeing, Jo in a post exhaustion rhythm could not believe what the song trembled with, Milaea could not countenance what she suddenly felt in the aether.

Their leader gone those that didn’t surrender, routed.

Karintha was not yet finished, striding over to the fallen Reapers she plucked the leader up, thrusting a shikkar into her and winding it telekinetically to the kidney to inflict maximum pain to ensure there was no resistance. 

Under the influence of their Battle meld, not driven by Karintha the other Aethans nearby followed, though some had to ‘share’ a reaper as few were alive.

In a single startling move they grasped the Reapers minds and in an act that had eerie similarity to Anzat feeding, they tore open the pain addled minds to consume their knowledge.

Jo stood by helpless wondering if he had just given himself over to evil a second time.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 4

After Effects

They had hoped to find sanctuary among the mesa carved villages of the great Canyon Clan.  

Seeing the tide had turned the Clanswomen embittered by years of excessive tribute turned on Lykana’s army, capturing half of those retreating, and half a day later welcoming the victorious forces, word more warriors were coming from the Singing Mountains, Frenzied River and Misty Falls tribes arrived soon after.

The First battle had been won.

<<<<>>>>

“Pah!” Haldan threw the hilt back into Jo’s chest.

“Too clean Aye!” he complained of the lightsabre that had served Jo well during the battle.  
“Cauterizing wounds, how can you get the rush from an enemies warm blood on your face Aye!”

The Crystal was not attuned to him, Ari had barely used the training saber so it lacked personality, with its first outing outright war he worried that imprint would dominate.

The burly chieftain suddenly stood as a figure approached along the hard rock walkways of the bivouac on the lower slopes beneath the Grand Valley Clans cavern abodes while they waited for supply and reinforcement from the other nearby clans before marching north.  

Jeisena had stayed with the caravan and would place Ulwyn with the other civilians to be sent to the Singing Mountains clan lands, among the safest on the planet.

“Chieftain,” Haldan said respectfully to Alwyn she nodded in reply,
“I wish to speak with Jo’Set’Mack,” uncertain Jo stood as she led away from the main fires.

“Congratulations,” he said breaking the silence as she kept walking
“On your victory, a good start I suppose,”
“But only a start,” she replied
“I heard you fought bravely, like the Fanged God himself Haldan said,”
“I wouldn’t say that, still a little rusty,” he said feeling the rust ache in his muscles.

“I can see why Jeisena chose you, strong in body, the Arts and honour, fighting for a cause which is hardly your own…it is perhaps a shame she marked you first,”

He stopped in his tracks
“Marked?”
“As her mate,” she glanced backward with a sad smile
“You are of a very good stock, you would make a fitting consort for a chief such as I…you may still,”

Now turning fully she stood much too close to him, a sweaty scent from the battle still clinging to her practical native clothes, her face largely natural as most of the war paint had been sweated off.
“As Chief I have certain privileges, to take whatever male I please…would it please you also?”

Jo stood dumbfounded, flattered but....  He couldn’t deny Alwyn was a far kinder and equally attractive version of Jeisena, in fact if he had been given the choice…

“I…for better or worse, my family is with Jeisena, I can’t betray her,”

“Betray? Monogamy is not a Dathomiri concept if that is what concerns you,”

She paused seeing his face unchanged from the saddened refusal

“She treats you abysmally, you would be shown as much honour and respect as any male as my mate, and Winged Goddess willing active father of the next leaders of a free Dathomir, you could teach them about the greater galaxy,”

Jo ran his hand across his face, mind and heart in turmoil
“Maker that…that would be…wonderful but…”
Alwyn shook her head
“I could force the matter,” she said in her ‘leaders’ voice
“My sister would, but I will not,”

A frustrated sigh she pushed gently past him back toward the main camp.

“Fight well again Jo’Set’Mack, perhaps Jeisena will if not reward, at least not deride you,”

He stood for nearly half an hour rooted to the spot, wondering if he had just chosen the wrong sister.

<<<<>>>>

 
“You used a Terror Orb,” Milaea leaned forward hands on hips, face still smudged by dust.

“A perfectly timed one,” Karintha said keeping her cool against the outrage radiating from the younger woman.

The Matriarch understood Milaea’s power was such that she could easily infect others with her own emotions, especially if she was not keeping a tight rein on them.

“Not the point, that kind of weapon is horrendous! You know how terrible that afflicted everyone on Ord Mirit – and then the memory ripping!”

Milaea shook her head
“This was a mistake…we should grab Taran and leave,”

And there it was, Milaea’s regret, as Kiraea had said it always came after the die was already cast.  

“We made a promise to our allies, assist them in removing Lykana, we agreed to use only traditional weapons and tactics, we have done exactly that…and consuming the enemies memory only expedites our efforts,”

Even now her sixth level of consciousness was processing the knowledge obtained of Reaper...enchantments, alchemy, abilities…

Milaea had hoped, believed even that Karintha was different, greeting the Gods of Dathomir, trying to parlay with Lykana.  Yet Karintha was still an Aethan Guardian through and through, given half the chance she would use outsiders as sparring partners in fatal set pieces…or data drives to be hacked and ripped.

But Karintha was correct about one thing, events had proceeded past the point of no return for Aethan involvement.

“Those techniques are too dangerous,” Milaea said staunchly redirecting her complaint.

“Given the enemy will likely investigate and learn ways to counter such, there is no reason for us to try the same trick twice…” Karintha offered a sort of concession before turning the conversation toward the future, rather than dwelling.

“Perhaps you, Jenaea and Lyaea should join the Spiderclan’s when we march out, spread our experience gained from the Dathomiri groups,”

“This is like the Vong isn’t it?” Milaea changed tact just as rapidly as she processed the evidence before her.

“We’re making the Dathomiri…training tools, these battles are live fire exercises, until we learn how to reclaim Taran safely,”

“We are ensuring the People gain the maximum benefit from this situation, that is all,”

“…I respect you’re taking on more and more…control…something I’m not yet ready for,” Milaea added, an ambiguous statement of intent in her last words

“I just don’t want the focus to shift from rescuing Taran to looting the Dathomiri,”

“I understand,” Karintha soothed as she stood to supportively take her hand and reaffirm their indissoluble bond as People

“After this is over we will have an extensive discussion, the two of us with Lyaea and Ari about the future leadership of the People.” Karitnha concluded knowing by then her Matriarchal title would already be indisputable.

<<<<>>>>

She disliked the artificiality of the images, the grainy empty light was an affront in some way she could not articulate, yet there was little choice.

The Great Canyon had been a loss, but not a devastating one, and it served to bring all her enemies together in a single force making it all the more convenient to defeat them in a single stroke.

But first….

“There are fourteen accoridng to our estimates,” The curious creature known as a nimbanel said on the other side of the rotating hologram of nine faces.  

The Iridonian Ima-Kun and his second Ran-Gof still beside the servile nimbanese technical expert serving the 14th Legion.

“Facial recognition picked up one of them as a 70 per cent match to a former Jedi once under a 20 million credit bounty now presumed dead…”

“I’ve no interest in what they were, only how they may be removed,” Lykana replied irritated at the presence of so many offworlders, in her sanctum and among her enemies.

The image had been taken by ‘Nano-Vipe’ Droids she had arranged to be hidden in equipment sent to Zhen’jha and deployed on the day of the battle. All the faces appeared similar, as if they were all sisters of the same mother.

The plain blue image switched to a strange amalgam of yellows, reds and whites that made rough shapes of their bodies.

“Their thermal signature is significantly different to human standard, even all known humanoid standards,” The nimabanel sniffed behinds it strange tusked face
“Their species remains frustratingly unknown.”

“What does all this mean?” she said already irritated they had not struck, apparently they needed time to ‘research’ their opponents, an oddly patient action given Ima-Kuns radiation of sheer savagery.

“It means our thermal scanners can pinpoint them separate from the natives,”

natives… such an attitude was exactly why Lykana knew she was needed to bring Dathomir into a new age.

“Combined with our Stealth field generators we can eliminate these interlopers quietly as per your instruction,”

The most insidious thing about these offworlders she faced was they did not appear as offworlders, their clothes and weapons could pass as Dathomiri.

“You are confident you can destroy them with your weapons?”

Ima-Kun gave a single nod.

She contemplated how to deploy them.

“Have your hunters prepare, I will be sending some of my Reapers to harry them as they march, they can join in the attack and use that as cover, now leave,”

The professionals were swiftly out of the room, again Ima-Kun eyeing the Varangian with a strange combination of envy and desire.

Lykana flicked her wrist and her vast guardian brought out her grimoire the Book of Shadows.  Her direct attack had failed, and with the Singing Mountain and Misty Falls witches their defences would be even stronger - she would revise to augmenting her own troops rather than striking theirs.

Throwing open the book she found the perfect spell.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 5

Ambush

The first victory buoyed the whole army, a sense of confidence that made the next three days march fly by as they told tales of their deeds, to their new allies and commemorated the fallen.

With the new clans they numbered 400, a significant force given most reports indicated Lykana’s force at Blood Peak numbered only 300, and at Rancors tooth just over 500, importantly almost every clan east of the Old Republic Prison and Deepwood had now promised to send warriors.

This changed the marching plans of the Coalition, From the Great Canyon they would head north through the grazelands to pick up more warriors, then through the Highpine forests to the western side of the River Break Mountains where the River Break and Great River Tribes had promised to join them, finally jumping off the fence they had been sitting.

From there they could head to Rancors Tooth and confront Lykana directly with fully half the Clans of the mainlands.

That the First engagement had been a large battle was unfortunate, Alwyn still hoped for a surrender.

Karintha still desired to extend their time to learn and try themselves against the Dathomiri.

She would get her wish.

<<<<>>>>

The Forest seemed terribly quiet compared to those Jenaea was used to on Aethas.

Sounds, smells, heat and mass of course, but the animals here lacked the intensity of aetheric use, less peaceful than eerie as the black painted faces of the spider clan scouts she patrolled ahead of the main force with.

Her stealth skills were not top tier, she had learned basics from Sofa and Kiraea but barely put them to the test.

And that’s why Karintha sent me with them

To avoid the embarrassment of being outshone by the outsiders she had to push herself over the last four charting a path for the main army and avoiding the sporadic traps.

Many were forgotten hunting traps, but more were intentional – large spike pits filled, leg traps, dangling sacs filled with noxious poisons.

Jenaea made up for stealth abilities with an uncanny knack for sensing and these and more eldritch snares – Cursed circles, rune laced passages between trees. Years of just knowing when a random beating from her enslavers was coming  gave her an innate ability to sense impending danger - a sorrowful legacy.

Moving rich greens of all shades from near black to almost yellow she paused at a divot in the ground, touching it gently with her hand, thermal vision detecting trace heat.

<Tracks…> she signalled Lyaea and Milaea,

<Native?> Lyaea asked, her party girl demeanour set aside for the soberness of war.

<It doesn’t align to the fauna we’ve seen> she slowly traced the nearly imperceptible indents forward
<I’ll head back and bring one of the sisters, they should…>

Instincts screamed, head snapped back to avoid the searing white bolt that struck the tree carbonizing the bark and sizzling the sap within…
An instant later the trunk exploded outward.

<FRELL ME!> she dove to the leaf riddled floor and moved faster than she thought she could in the ‘spiders dance’ as the Dathomiri called their unique form of low ambulation

<Enemy?>
<Weapon, energized coating, and projectile core that exploded after impact> she described
<Mass reactive round with blaster sheath> Lyaea deduced <We use them in our Hades Rifles, what colour was the bolt?>

<White blur> she replied as she felt her spine all but freeze with the imminence of attack

<Suppressed Sniper…likely an XT-9> Lyaea used her experience in picking out designs for the Hades rifles.

<But who shot it> Milaea asked even as she scanned the area Jenaea was in

“We’ll find out soon,” Lyaea replied half to Milaea half to Knissa whom she had crawled up beside

“We’ve got snipers using off world weaponry, signal everyone to draw back and if they can reduce their body heat as much as possible,”

If Lyaea was setting up an ambush she would be using thermals to hunt rather than visual in such a dense forest, so she assumed the outsiders would be as well.

Knissa simply nodded having already learned to trust her allies instincts and made the signals needed with the ‘Silken Song’ a barely audible low pitched whistle.

<There is more coming there is…>
Two more shots barely missed Jenaea slamming into the ground.  She rolled to avoid the explosions of soil that followed.
<Frell, they’re everywhere!>

And nowhere too, Milaea realised, she couldn’t sense them
.
<They must have cloaks, aetheric as well as regular…>
<Not any more…> Lyaea replied as the once all too quiet forest erupted in violence.

Reaper scouts lying in wait pounced on the Spider clan women they could while 14th Legions Vulpes, stealth field generators active and bristling at the strange static feel of the Witches ‘invisibility’ spells and totems around their necks used their thermal scanners to hunt the metahumans.

Poison darts and arm mounted crossbows were the projectiles of choice as others blitzed the odd shuriken deflected on long thin and heavily poisoned blades as a battle of scouts and assassins chained across a kilometre of forest.

Though barely numbering 20 on either side, the speed of movement and ability to conceal turned it into a large scale game of Rancor and Bolma, exposing offered the chance to attack more accurately, and hiding risked being found.

Swinging down from the tree three bolts struck an ancient limb just under Milaea forcing her to land heavily into a roll.

The Vulpes largely ignored the natives that rushed back and forward between them as they relentlessly stalked their true targets.

Jenaea needed to take the fight to her opponents, but how could she sneak up on someone she couldn’t see?

She simply didn’t have a choice.  Tracing back vectors and trying to predict their motions she turned back around to take them head on.

In the silent war there was no central point to hold or lose, only the vague intent of eliminating as many of the enemy as possible knowing half would probably slink away never to be seen.

The fighting was no less fierce for it.  A reaper caught by two spiders was stabbed twenty times, a spider scout wandered aimlessly under the hallucinatory effects of a dart before being indifferently finished off by a crossbow.

Clashes were few but invariably deadly between trained assassins.

Milaea found fresh corpses as she stayed mobile trying to round against her pursuers while Lyaea and Knissa teamed to try and find the enemy leader before the Vulpes forced her to break off.

Straight toward the source of the projectiles that would have paralyzed her with fear a year ago Jenaea tracked a slight haze in pollens kicked up by movement.

She sprung tree trunk to tree trunk toward a chest level distortion twisting in a leap hurling her daggers straight at either side of the phase break.

Blackstone with angered momentum buried through the comparatively weak armour and into the iridonians chest, another loss followed quickly as Milaea leapt down to shatter another bulky Vulpes - her weight tripled by an aetheric gravity distortion, bones crunching under armour.

Lyaea raced through the more aggressive volleys into the middle of her three hunters who thought they now had her boxed in.  They fired simultaneously confident they couldn’t be seen, a confidence that diminished as their projectiles curved under Lyaea’s telekinetic prowess at each other. 

They moved fast enough to avoid but each motion at close range made detection easier, her bow quickly in hand she launched off three quick arrows where she thought one was – one out of three shots was all she got and all she needed.

Fire from above pinned Jenaea as another on ground moved to limit her options further. Shots began to get too close, her instinctual kinetite shield bouncing one shot away.

Forced to choose between targets she hurled her last dagger - missing to her annoyance, little recourse she telekinetically grasped at the entire forest floor and pulled up, explosions of dirt wrong footing the Iridonian, creating a silhouette of soil around his cloaking field. She relied on genhanced strength to bash him to death through the armour. 

His resistance was firm, cloaking field making it hard for her to counter and a vibro blade pierced her vosis scale vest the tip scratching at her skin – just as the third Vuples fired a shot straight at her back.

The kinetite shield only partially deflected it at such close range, the energy burning the gormin leather cloak she wore, the reactive round detonating on her back with a heated blossom.

She rolled off and scrambled to summon her daggers, one hastily plunged into the grounded iridonian before he could recover, the other sent straight at where a second muzzle flash burned – the dagger pierced the rifles scope and through to the helmet beneath, but his second shot still hit her square in the shoulder, vosis scale and gormin leather took the brunt but she was burned still.

Without pausing she rushed to where she felt Lyaea, bouncing between trees, narrowly avoiding the fiery plume of a thermal mine and the toxic green of a gas trap intended for her, gaining height with each jump between trunks she came down into the hazy mirage like air with both daggers killing the last of Lyaea’s attackers.

Jenaea’s sense of imminent danger finally subsided, Milaea must’ve finished her own attackers off.

<That is the last of them…for now>

<<<<>>>>

“And they only targeted your kind,” Alwyn confirmed, the other members of the council visibly worried about the escalation of off world warriors into the conflict.

“Correct, with those thermal scanners and sniper rifles they could’ve killed many of the Spider clan once they were exposed by the Reaper scouts,” Milaea replied, her injuries no more than faint pink splotches on her skin.

“This bodes ill,” Djo, the tall thin chief of the Singing Mountain Clan said, unused to their ‘offworld’ allies she stood at the furthest distance around the table from Karintha and Milaea as possible

“If in response to our…allies…then we may have given Lykana writ to engage even more potent technologies against us,”

“Yorna stood against the Varangian with us, all Karintha’s folk fight with honour and weapons and armour no different to our own, there is no excuse for using off world weapons like that,” Aun said defensively

“And that male with the ‘lit-saber” Djo countered

“Is the mate of Jeisena Hri, his weapon no different to your own power staves in essence,” Peola replied

“Even so…it is a dangerous turn…” Yzzerhera’s aged voice respected by all,

“If these offworlders are sent to destroy my kin,” Karintha spoke up
“Then we shall draw them away from your forces if they return and deal with them in isolation, or if they attempt to use their aerial vehicles, counter those to ensure the Law of Battle is respected.”

“And thereby become reliant on your protection from off world intrusion?” Djo ‘snapped’ - her words were soft and measured but among matriarchs and elder women the subtlest tone shift carried great weight.

Milaea feared just that.  Friendship and Alliance had a very different meaning to the People than the Dathomiri, they thought it a respectful agreement between people who acted as equals, regardless of material disparity.  The People could not conceptualise relating to any other group as equals, only as servants to be exploited or enemies to be culled.

“We have no designs upon your world or culture beyond reclaiming our lost kin and mutually profitable trade, clan Mother Yzzerhera has been most helpful in providing information on the means of breaking his enthrallment, though more research is needed…and as guests of Alwyn Hri we are bound by our own laws of hospitality to defend against any aggressor to our host,”

“Then perhaps Chief Hri might consider respectfully asking you to depart,” Djo dug in
“The last thing we need is two offworld factions using our land and skies as an arena,”

Alwyn disliked both sides of the choice growing before her.  Karintha’s kind were a powerful asset she would be foolish to dismiss, especially against Lykana, yet increasingly she feared their intentions.

“It’s too late…” Alwyn finally sighed

“Events have already overtaken us in this regard, we can only hope Lykana is sane enough to restrict her use of offworld forces to against ours…to that extent the playing field is even,”

“Though based on this last engagement it seems they have an advantage…” Peola noted grimly

“I will be sure to increase our preparedness,” Karintah was quick to assure
“I will summon the males of my People,” she glanced quickly to Milaea
“All of them and their retinue,”
<The Extolled?> Milaea queried in a millisecond
<They are ferocious loyal warriors are they not?>
<Too much so…>
“You have my word, these Iridonians will not interfere again,”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 39 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Talon of the Winged Goddess — Part 7

Retaliation

“Brothers this is a glorious day, we will manifest the Wrath of the Goddesses upon the flesh of the Heretical Ir-idon-yans, by the score shall we take their heads and consign their soul to the…”

“We get it, lots of blood and glory, less talking more doing,” Taryn snapped at the over enthusiastic Maekal as he let the Karintha Class Assault Transport drift on solar winds.

Taryn was as bloodthirsty as the next man, all the more so as his babe Lyaea had been attacked directly, but he didn’t turn it into a sermon like Maekal.

In a sign of growing trust Taryn was to lead Maekal and Evyn in the boarding action on the Iridonian Command Carrier in reprisal for their ambush on Dathomir. 

Though in Maekals case Taryn suspected Valens just wanted to be rid of the zealous little brat for a few days. The former ‘living god’ had transferred his fanatical energy to praise of the Triune Goddesses - of course Maekal considered himself the ‘Prodigal Son’ whose return signalled a Golden Age or some such nonsense Maekal insisted on explaining in hour long diatribes during their careful positioning for the attack.

Evyn by blessed contrast barely spoke a word not related to the mission itself - so silent at times it was unnerving.

<Should I engage the sublights now> Xanaea asked Taryn from another of the three transports.  The young girl was given piloting duties to allay her fear of missing out on the action.

<Do it when you feel it’s right Niblett> he replied
<You gotta feel the currents, trust your guts and all that jazz>

Taryn wasn’t worried for Xanaea’s safety, she was piloting Valens and Jarys with twelve Extolled Hunters, ain’t nothing was hurting that teenage girl short of the star going nova.

On the third vessel was Lydan, The Old Man and Maeson, the latter itching to try his new Hades II Repeater, a chunky 60 kilogram weapon that combined Chiss Macro-MASER technology with Phirk projectiles, the Chiss had developed the weapon originally as a fixed position heavy weapon being far too heavy to carry with each of the 200 ‘bullets’ weighing a further 500 grams…

A broad shouldered Aethan farmer however was able to haul it no problem.

He lined up the thick hulled Command Carrier, like so much Iridonian design it was blocky and thickly armour plated.  Taryn had taken his time designing this attack as he would any of the hundred of piratical boarding action he had before. 

There was a shavit tonne of maths behind an effective raid, determining vectors, acceleration projections, gravity arcs and the like to work out how to intercept target craft, ensuring they couldn’t simply accelerate out of the way - and for the boarding itself you needed to understand shield frequencies, hull density and the shear strength of the plating.

All this he had factored together with Xani and Jarys assistance to resolve on ram raiding the doonium hull with the Karintah transports far denser Blackstone hull and leaping into the breach.

Of course in addition to the mathematical precision you needed to get damn lucky and have a good sense of timing.

That time was now.

Without warning he slammed off the Stealth drive and inertial dampers so he could feel the g’s and the ship in his bones as he hit the sublights from zero to overdrive, all power from stealth, shields and life support pushed into the Chiss engines that shrieked like metal on ice and the sudden burn.

The sublights  would be picked up by the Iridonians, but the Aethans three hour long powered down - except for stealth drives - drift to this point left the horn heads too little time to scramble fighters to intercept, and even at full thrust the Command carrier - assuming Taryn’s guess about their engines capacity was right - couldn’t avoid a collision.

Point defence batteries opened up against the three transports instantly, the Legion prized manual targeting and considering the speed of the transports were doing a damn good job of hitting by firing at precisely the place where the vectors of the ship and turbo laser would intersect.

The Transports started taking hits, the Blackstone hulls holding against the yellow-white bolts, they could take around 5 direct hits before a section was compromised, as Taryn rattled in his chair he felt number three.

“Give us a boost boys!” he yelled as if he was on the bridge of the Kyala once more, booming across to surly pirates who’d sooner stab him than serve him if he showed the slightest weakness.

Maekal and Evyn complied without question using their telekinetic powers to pull the transport even faster, additional acceleration causing an otherwise well placed shot to skid off the heated crater left by the last three.

The thick moving hull of the Command Carrier filled the view screen, the symbol of the 14th speeding past as the Iridonians tried to avoid a collision.

They wouldn't be so lucky.

To the far side he felt rather than saw two black serrated bores fire from Xani’s ships - torpedoes in advance of the ramming that ploughed into the doonium, tearring ferociously as they spun at several thousand hertz through the vessel.

Taryn smiled as he fired off his own, he’d make a pirate Queen of her yet.

Pieces of shattered doonium blasted out from the impact crater bouncing off the transport just as the pointed tip hit.  The Vessel lurched at encountering something other than void to ply through, but momentum kept it grinding inwards.

Sparking cables and metal scratched along the hull as they ground inside, Taryn slamming on the reverse thrusters, plasteel on interior walls they were now eating through melting into blobs.

The ships finally ended in a dead stop surrounded by three decks of ruin.

In a single flourish Taryn spun from his seat, clipped on his helm, pulled his Hades pistol and twirled his Blackstone Katana.

“Right boys let’s make some noise.”

<<<<>>>>

Iridonian reputation for toughness and savagery was well earned.

Every section, every hall the Aethan men progressed through was a grind that left their armour that much more glowing from blaster hits, their ammunition that much lower.

The Legions ship wasa reflection of an Iridonian Legionnaire's mind, zero wasted space, every room featuring double doors and defensible cover positions, every hallway equipped with thermal sweep auto turrets.

They would move cover to cover firing with pinpoint accuracy that required teleport shunts to avoid, when an Aethan would telekinetically drag one out of cover they would slam grenades on their own belts active in a suicidal blaze of hate.

Their armour was tough enough to take two direct Hades rifle hits and even stood a few blows against blackstone daggers and swords, with physical strength enough to require Jarys to have to try twice to tear one's head off.

Any time the Aethans managed to gain the advantage they would fall back, leaving one of their number to die to cover the rest. The entire ship was a masterclass in defence in depth as the deeper the Aethans plunged the more prepared and equipped they found their enemy.

Maeons’ repeater tore through cover and hull causing many sections to depressurize, the Legion voided even more sections to throw them off until they realized all the Aethans were in EV capable suits - not that they needed to breathe much anyway. The 12 Extolled with him keeping the tremor sword Vulpes from getting too close.

Maekal bellowed curses upon their eternal souls and charged forth where he could, taking heads after savage fast fights that Taryn had to admit showed the slightly younger boy had impressive skills and moments of Valens lethal polish.

Maekal would raise the heads to the closed circuit cameras and yell challenges at the Iridonian leader demanding he face him in single combat or “Forever be known to Gods and Men as Coward and Knave!”

Evyn skirted the edges driving his thin sword into armour gaps, his sister poisons causing the victims to convulse and vomit in their helmets.

Valens and Jarys strode forward ignoring the Legion troops, occasionally flicking their wrists to send heavy weapons emplacements into the ceiling, or slam blast doors open with their boots. The Legion troops would fire on them from behind only to be taken in turn by the Extolled contingent whose blorash jelly pinned the Legions hands to their sides, feet to the floor, yet still the Iridonians fought knife to amphistaff giving as good as they got.

Lydan and Melron took an alternate route, walking through the tunnel of wreckage their ship had created to the hull, and space walking to a higher section, the shepherd tearing panels free, the Old Man leaping inside to open another front.

Back to a column Taryn swung out both pistols firing into the chest piece of a briefly exposed Legionnaire, both shots hit precisely the same spot and were chained with telekinetic shutter point aether blast that cracked the armour allowing the maser blast to eat into the exposed torso.  He took a shot to the leg that his armour saved for the trouble.

The Mission timer on his HUD showed they had been in the vessel nearly two hours.  He had expected they would be done by now.

<How close are we!> he asked

<One deck to the engines> Jarys responded pushing his way through a tear in a lead shielded door way while his brother's lighting bubbled the plastic components of a Legionaries armour into heated streak that ate his skin.  Enraged by the pain the Iridonian charged viciously, throwing one slash that Valens just dodged before planting his blackstone boot into the knee, then swiping off the head with his blade.

<Left side of the bridge doors… >Maeson grunted from cover
<We’re on the right> Lydan equally pressed added as he blocked a series of heavy repeater shots with his Naginata, the defensive enchantments his hallowed wife had placed on the weapon never more useful.

Taryn’s mouth twisted in annoyance.  His own team was just outside the Port hangar that he should’ve taken twenty minutes ago. He couldn’t complain too much, his old pirate crew would’ve been shaviting their pants and running after fifteen minutes against the Legion.

That the eight Aethan men and thirty six Vong had progressed this far was amazing…

Heh, guess my expectations have gone up
<Something wrong with the floor Evyn?> he asked.

The assassin trained Aethan smiled as he dropped down onto the Legion barring the port hangar blast door.  It was a new experience, this more open combat, but Evyn was finding ways to use the chaos of battle to cloak himself even more expertly, relying on his comrades' misdirection to line up more perfect kills.

His daggers sung through the air never missing a joint between torso and shoulder, or leg and hip before he leapt back away knowing the non-fatal blows would cause the Iridonians to lash out.  he rolled backwards as Taryn and Maekal came up behind firing straight into the bleeding Legion who couldn’t stand for the severed ligaments Evyn had inflicted.

Not even pausing in his stride Taryn kept firing till there was a molten hole in the door he could telekinetically grip to rend inwards.

While his expertise was in taking vessels intact and selling them off, Taryn knew the best way to destroy a ship was from the inside out, and the best weapons were sitting in fighter docks.

The attacks on the engines and bridge were distractions, drawing the majority of the scores of Legionnaires to defend those critical locations while Taryn and the boys now burst into the port hangar guns glazing.

The Legion had taken strong defensive positions behind deployable shields and hardy durasteel shipping containers, heavy weapons muzzles sweeping down from the gantries.

Barely had they stepped in when the entire hangar turned into a raucous cacophony of blaster, green and red bolts blackening every wall and object as the three aethan’s advanced, using their telekinetic powers to rip up their enemies cover and slam it back down upon those not fast enough to roll away while simultaneously firing their hades rifles into every exposed piece of armour they could.

Effective as the Legion was they had no way to counter aetheric abilities that turned stationary objects into accelerating projectiles or lifted cover from the floor.

Maekal charged ahead bellowing hubris filled challenges to any who would listen, an Iridonian with Red insignia rushed to meet him tremor sword in hand, the Aethan boy smiled with glee, professing he was the Living Justice of the Goddesses upon the unbelievers.

The fast and brutal duel ended with Maekal taking the head just as he’d promised before being forced back into cover by concentrated fire. Unfortunate, Taryn thought knowing from his own experience sometimes a loss was good for a bit of humility, and the god-king brat needed that.

With Evyn leaping onto the gantries to relieve pressure from above Taryn gripped two of the fighter cradles with his mind as he kept up firing opportunistic shots from behind a sizzling dented container.

The fighter cradles crashed down onto three Legionnaires opposite Maekal, giving the boy the chance to rush through a gap to leap on another fighter, ripping the cockpit open he began to power weapons systems, but more fire forced him to abandon the effort.

<We’re getting close start to pull out not> Taryn ordered despite the temporary set back, they were wearing down the Legionnaires in the hangar by one a minute, but Evyn was showing obvious signs of fatigue, Taryn out of projectile ammunition and Maekal frustrated to the point of a tantrum pinned by intense fire.

Lydan and Melron obeyed swiftly fighting a retreat away from the bridge as Xani backed out their rammed transports, slaving the three together, leaving gaping wounds that spewed cables and metal into space.

<Give me shield god-boy!> Taryn ordered to Maekals irritation, still he complied as Taryn ran from cover feeling the wrap of  Maekal projecting a kinetic and energy shield around him that bounced off the majority of shot that hit as he ran to a fighter in a repair bay, the cockpit open and half the side exposed.

Realising what he intended the Legion focused all their fire on him, this simply allowed Evy and Maekal to strike at them in the lull, Evyn in particular no longer trying to be stealthy unleashing ferocious blasts of lighting that overloaded Legion armour circuirtary forcing them to ditch their helmets, offering tempting targes.

Undaunted Taryn took an aether powered leap into the cockpit, a Legionnaire reached over to stab him, Taryn punched as hard as he could shattering the head behind the armoured faceplate.

Ducking under the lip of the cockpit less for cover than to get at the wires he heard the familiar bellow of the Extolled as Jarys and Valens retinue arrived, doubling the Legions problems.

Quick hands and deft slices hotwired the fighters generator and put all power to the weapons.  not even moving the ship he opened fire - space grade quad lasers firing indsicimiantly into the cradled fighters on the far wall.  twisting copper and duraluminium wires together to make it keep on firing without him he leapt out as the cannons continued to chew the comparatively weak internal walls of the command carrier.

The last of the Legion fell just as Jarys stepped in, the Extolled collecting up trophies from their fallen foes.

Grabbing a mounted laser whose gunner he had slain, Evyn turned the heavy cannon on the power clamps either side of the hangar bay doors and blew them out to disable the atmosphere shield, showering poor Maekal with sparks as he hacked the doonium doors open.

Atmosphere lurched out with a puff as the Port hangar was exposed to the void, two Karintha class transports showing their open rear hatches as the Extolled affixed the gnulliths to breathe for the short jump.

<I think now?> Xanaea in the third transport facing forward asked as Melron and Lydan with only two-thirds of the Extolled they had started joined the run to leap to their escape vessels.

<Now Niblett> Taryn agreed as he leapt, two shikkar torpedoes zipped past him dangerously close.

He missed the landing and was dragged in the transport by Evyn with a telekinetic assist as the shikkars ate through the belly of the Carrier.

Legionnaires scrambled to escape pods and ships on the Starboard hangar as the retaliatory force left the bleeding wreck of a ship to die as the torpedoes proton bomb cores detonated with blue ice fire.

 

<<<<>>>>

[TheDutchman]

The war continues: two battles juxtaposed against one another proving immutable facts that those willing to do what the other side does NOT expect will continue to have a definitive advantage (to say nothing of the Aethan cultural initiative do learn/absorb absolutely EVERYTHING that they can, lest they experience a 2nd Devastation).  However, there are now those who voice their opposition to their so-called ally's motives and actions (indeed their very involvement), their trepidations proving correct in light of the outcome of the Battle of the Great Canyon.  As has happened all too often in the past, many of those fighting are blind to the actual costs that have accrued, both overt and hidden...

Interestingly enough, the effectiveness of Force-based tactics amongst the relatively primitive warfare between the Aethans and Lykana reminds me of the two sides of the New Sith Wars where the strategies employed still had to account for mundanities (troop strength, theater conditions, etc) as both sides' Force-enhancements and offensives were most deadly when used in conjunction with conventional tactics.  Consider: one of the biggest advantages that the Aethans possess is their ability to effectively communicate amidst the chaos of battle without worry that their enemies can eavesdrop on their plans.  Coupled with absolute precision and "unknown" weapons (from the Dathomiri perspective) of the Terror Bomb, the Aethan advantages become more and more apparent.

This is only further exemplified by the space battle between the Command Carrier of the 14th Legion and the Karintha-class Assault ship: with the Legion taking full advantage of "modern" instruments of warfare, they can mitigate some of the innate assets of the People (and their Vong allies).  Unfortunately for the Legion, Taryn is all too willing to return the favor, drawing upon his own experiences from his pirate days.  Certainly makes things interesting when one considers that these battles will help the Aethans in future conflicts, one of which we know is right around the corner...

On a meta-level, excellent and exciting storytelling.  Much of the time whenever I read about battles or warfare, the narrative tends to get too caught up in the specifics without proper context for an organic flow (usually by way of an Out-of-Scene Info Dump, derailing the urgency of the setting).  Taryn's POV (who is, BTW, one of my favorite characters  ) makes for the perfect balance between "form" and "function," seeing the action through his eyes was a fantastic choice.

Just curious: did I miss "Part 6?"

[Lord_S_Gray]

Just curious: did I miss "Part 6?"

No part 6 just poor attention to numbering!
Glad you enjoyed it and the key element of the critical skill of combining force abilities and conventional military tactics came through - inspired by your own Schisms and Exodus that do it so well.

[TheDutchman]

No part 6 just poor attention to numbering!
Glad you enjoyed it and the key element of the critical skill of combining force abilities and conventional military tactics came through - inspired by your own Schisms and Exodus that do it so well.

I know the feeling; sometimes I don't proofread like I should and find a glaring mistake in my own writing that gets me thinking "Now why didn't I catch that?" 

And thanks!  To reiterate, I've always enjoyed good war stories and RotA is no exception: tight action, exciting scenes, combatants that we care about, antagonists that we love to root against.

Keep them coming, LSG!

[Karmack]

Trying to get caught up on this ... and I am skimming to much.   :-)   But even then, amazing!   I have to admit I am a bit to invested in the "Jo" segments, but what to expect from a poor Mak'Tor?  LOL

Loving the flow and symmetry.   Looking forward to more, and maybe someday I'll be able to read this more slowly and in greater detail.  For now, though, I am enjoying the ongoing saga!  :-)

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 40 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch —   Jaws of the Fanged God — Part 1

Ambush of the High Pine Forest

Progress dramatically slowed after the ambushes began. 

The Reapers took advantage of every possible way to stymie their progress, as complex as Still Circles of Rune carved stones that locked people within until the pell was unwound, and simple as sending wild heard of Bolma changing through the trees…and the vast bipedal grey skinned amalgam of claw and tooth Jo now found himself facing.

Nydaks were not native to the forest, obviously brought here by the Reapers to attack the small groups the army was moving in, the creatures were all the more ferocious for it, scars from transport collars on the neck.

It hissed and spat as it pounded toward him, the limp body of a Northman chewed in its charge hurled aside as it sought to collect even more man-meat.

“Spread out…try and surround it,” Jo said calmly as he could as his sabre hovered close to his face, the unfamiliar red glow lighting the otherwise shadowed dense forest.

As the northmen moved it lashed out straight at Jo, seemingly drawn to the low of his blade, he used that to his advantage, darting back and forth in front of it while Haldan moved around to the back in a wide arc behind the trees.

It slashed and tore at Jo, smacked back the spears the other Northmen tried to pierce it with, Jo kept an eye on Haldan as he slowly moved to get behind it, a few spittle filled lunges wetting his shirt.

As Jos shifted back further the beast spun, ugly blackened claws tearing toward Haldan before he could strike, the big man took a blow on the left arm and fell.
 
Jo wasted no time reversing his motion from back to forwards and slamming himself forward with the Force, and empowered leap putting him half a meter off the ground as he brought his blade down carving a huge cauterized wound down the creature back that spun as it turned on him.

It turned feral that instant raging and frothing as another Northman hurled an Elector Javelin into its right arm, the energy pulse deadening the nerves making it limp.

The left arm reached for Jo who half falling back slashed quickly to eat through the meat of the forearm as the claws scraped his face drawing blood, Haldan recovered planting his spear finally in its back.

Wobbling all three men spent another two minute methodically taking the creature apart till it finally died with a grunted sigh.

“A good fight ‘eye!” the bleeding Haldan boomed slapping Jo on the back as the Gray Jedi wiped his own blood from his eyes.

Jo felt only sadness for the poor creature taken out of its habitat and forced to fight in the forests…not unlike himself.

“Another fight,” he replied grimly
“’eye that’s the spirit, always another fight baldy!”

Haldan was not wrong, the northmen began to encounter two or three traps a day for the next five days, the other groups at a similar rate, slowly bleeding their numbers by a half a dozen to a dozen a day.

Reapers made hit and run attacks directly as they neared the edge of the forest, the traps became more advanced.  The groups with Aethans tended to fare better to the point Karintha had them split between all ten main parties to assist the Dathomiri and provide a quicker communications link via telepathy than the leaf and flax covered Green Spring Clan forest messenger runners previously in use.

“Long time no see,” Sofa had said strolling up casually to Jo after being assigned to their group.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her after all this time, all that animosity.

“Well let’s just get things out of the way,” Sofa sighed in her typical over theatrical way.

Without so much as a warning the right side of his face exploded in pain and he found himself sniffing the loamy forest floor as Haldan barked with laughter.

“That is for trying to kill my husband and beating on my friend Selaena” she said kneeling to help him up

His wounds from the nydak covered in a medicinal tree sap began to bleed again as he staggered up grasping her incredibly strong hand that lifted him as he would one of Ulwyn’s toys.

“Frell it Sofa, needed you two hours ago to bitch slap that Nydak,” he grinned, he had done some pretty shavit things – from her point of view - a single slap was merciful.

“Dealing with some Chirodactyls, irritating things, stink too, now let’s get moving we’re only half a day to the border.”

They had known each other a long time, ever since they were ten running around the Temple before the Exile of the Mak’tor while their masters Odjina and Soryu had trained or taught together.  While not close friends they had been cordial, and in latter years pulled together then foisted to opposite sides by their relationships to the Aethans.

“So I’m guessing…” Jo left it unsaid as the walked, the trees diminishing in size as the rolling green hills peaked between them in the distance.

“Yes he is alive,” Sofa said of her husband, the object of Jo’s vicious revenge plot
“So you better not do anything to irritate me,” she half joked “Don’t worry though, he’s only coming to deal with those damn Iridonian merc’s”

“One could almost pity them…” Jo mused as they came to the edge of the forest, low grassy rises up ahead on the open plains.

<Something is about to hit> Jenaea suddenly warned with her impeccable sense of danger.

“Order everyone to raise their shields,” Karintha immediately told Alwyn who did not second guess the Aethan woman whose foresight was invaluable in limiting causalities through the forest over the last week.

The reaction was not quite fast enough as a hail of arrows and Electro-Scorpion artillery screeched through the air straight at them from all along the hills ahead.

“Ambush, fall back into the…”

A war horn sounded behind and in a horrid response the craw, shriek and roar of dozens of vicious creatures at their rear.

“Trapped,” Alwyn realised certain the archers and artillery were too far on the hill to reach before the feral animals behind reached them. 

“Keep to the tree line, rest triple time!” she yelled, her orders carried to all the groups by the Aethan women and other Witches.

Controlled chaos erupted as the Coalition forces bolted trying to get out of range of the Archers while also hoping they could outpace the animals.

Already on the western flank Jo did what he could at a running pace to deflect the larger projectiles with the Force as the Northmen kept close to the trees rounded wooden shields over their heads, Sofa sending impeccable blasts of lighting that incinerated a dozen arrows each time while her aethan speed allowed her to avoid them herself.

On the eastern flank Kassyndra found herself pinned with the Grand Canyon Warriors as the top edge of the animals turned feral and possessed with ichor smoking green eyes struck them. Mostly Rhoa – Kwi with a few nydaks the Grand Canyon Rancors were able to use their enormous clawed hands to swipe them down two at a time, and even with their witches wards and Kassyndra’s own archery and telekinetic retaliation a number got through to savage the women warriors.

All along the Coalition front the race west began to slow as the rabid creatures hit them from the south, the mid sections were more prepared and took defensive positions to meet the attack and slay many of them on the first charge, the Spider clan archers, Lyaea and Adaea even moved south to snipe down a few waves before they arrived, elsewhere Yorna had her spear women hold a shield wall as she telekinetically slammed a vast ancient tree down on the beasts.

The constant toll from the rain of arrows on the scimitar wielding desert warriors as they hacked against two vicious armoured Malklocs forced Ari to turn her attention from the beasts to climb up a large tree, instinctually reaching out to Milaea who did likewise further to the east.

High enough to see the archers and artillery they linked across nearly three kilometres of forest and pooled their energy into a blunt but strong shock wave across the entire archer line, sending half their number flying 50 to 100 meters backwards before their coven support intervened. 

Leaping down from the tree Ari landed sword first into a Malklocs neck, taking the entire head off, Milaea with a shockwave of red that sent Rhoa Kwi flying into trees on crimson tendrils that shattered their bones.

It was a desperate half retreat that lasted till night fell and they had outpaced the artillery and the animal charges petered out.

The terrain was steeper as they reached the fringes of the River break mountains and Jo and Haldan took a hard position on natural rocky ground by a small stream.

Over the next few hours all the groups arrived in various states of disrepair, all told some 50 Dathomiri had been lost of their force of 400.

“We’re closer to the rendezvous at least,” Ianna found some hope as the council met amidst the triage of the wounded.

“But we took large losses and inflicted none in return,” Djo sombrely concluded

“This is what we chose,” Aun replied defiant, “Better this than starving from the excess tribute or taken by the Reapers in our sleep,”

It was cold comfort at best.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 40 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Jaws of the Fanged God — Part 2

Lykana

Events had seemed to be turning in her favour after the Grand Canyon.  The ambushes were broadly successful in slowing and bleeding Alwyn’s army enough to let Lyra set a nasty trap for the traitors.

‘Seemed’ was still the operative word.  Her Iridonian Mercenaries had so far catastrophically failed to blunt the offworlers interference, and worse had lost one of their command carriers in an orbital battle against Alwyn’s allies.

Lykana wasn’t overly surprised, she knew what kind of power the Varangain alone could wield, against an army of such beings….even so...

“Nnnnhhhhhhh….” Ima Kun did his best not to groan as the Varangian held him up by the throat in the audience chamber of Rancor’s Tooth.

“I have paid you a small fortune, you assured me you were able to handle any enemies I set you against...should I have chosen the Mando clan instead?”

The grey-brown skin began to turn a sickly blue before Lykana flickered her fingers and the Varangian let him drop.

Recovering quickly the Iridonian pounded his fists onto the stone to raise himself back up.

“If you let us fight as we wished,” he coughed out…
“Not hiding, avoiding collateral casualties,”

Lykana could not disagree, her injunction that they only target the offworlders among Dathomiri ranks limited his options, though the oribtail defeat was still his own.

“Very well, do what you must, but only attack on instruction from one of my generals,”

With a huffing nod he left, again eyeing the Varangian, replaced by Lxa,

“This had best be good news cousin…” Lykana could feel her skin trembling to expel its moisture and leave her the withered husk she was without her glamorous and rejuvenations.

“Your Reapers have completed the...collection...all have been marked and buried, the second stage incancations will be finished by the morn, the third stage three days on the full moon.”

She nodded, under the fat full moon her enemies would feel the bladed teeth of the Fanged God.

<<<<>>>>

Vetala of the Ichor Moon

They moved by night through the dense forest.  The Archers and artillery on the plains north continued to fire when they could but by and large the thick trucks shielded the Coalition from damage, and it seemed they had outrun the Reapers supply lines for setting wild animals loose on them.

Aun-Frost Glade and her Axe-women were in the Vanguad with Peola’s Spears, the freezing runes of her enchanted axes glowing a dim blue beneath the full Ichor Moon overhead.

The position of Dathomirs four moons changed the flow of the magical ichor, making different types of spells more powerful, on this night with the Fanged Gods Green Moon high, and the other three moons beneath the Horizon the time was ripe of Vivification magics which enhanced the body and mind.

In Auns case she used a keening spell to sharpen her sight constantly on the look out for another ambush but so far seeing only the misted breath of her fellow axewomen in the chill air. 

Morale was dropping as the temperature plummeted, the ambushes and raids had been draining, and while no one had yet abandoned the army, the warmth of the victory at Grand Canyon was gone and icy enormity of facing a witch as powerful as Lykana was beginning to bite.

A flickering yellow flash in the trees above barely distinguishable from the stars behind the full moon was a sign from the Spider Clan scouts they saw something.

More silent signals passed and Aun and four warriors threaded lighting slightly north to investigate on the ground.

She crouched by the cold red wilted leaves that shimmered eerily in the Moons light brushing them aside to reveal a metal spike protruding from the ground

“Damn...Malklocs traps…” the heavy traps for the beasts could easily cut off a womans leg at the knee.

Carefully she paces ahead further finding three more, no doubt the outer edge of a field of such snares...fortunately they were too close to the forest edge to be in the path of the main army.

Aun paused, something seemed off about that...if the Repaers had managed to ride ahead to lay traps, why lay them along the tree line east to west instead of north south across the Coalition armies path...unless…

“They’re to trap us inside…” she suddenly said,

“Sigi run back and warn the others they’re trying to ox us inside the malkloc traps, we need to get out of the road they’ve set,”

With a nod the runner sped forward barely two steps before she fell hard to the ground face first with a crunch.

Aun rushed to her aid fearing the runner had stepped on a trap…

A hand bleeding ichor from rotten flesh gripped Sigi’s leg.

<<<<<>>>>>

The power of the Ichor Moon roused the recently reburied from their shallow hiding places all through the Coalition column.

The cloying stink of decay was the first and for many the only warning as the Vetala rose up from the dirt as the army divided into groups by tribe and clan passed over them.

The initial surprise was replaced quickly by disgust and dread as rancid bone hands held together by necrotic magic clawed and grasped with unthinking cold intent to consume the warm living.

Spears thrust through torsos, swords that severed arms at the shoulder were all so much irrelevance to the decayed hordes Lykana had spent considerable effort to have buried in her enemies pathway.

The Ichor moon beat down its revitalizing currents to hold the otherwise loose humanoid forms in check as they grasped and gurgled unearthly guttural sounds from dead rib cages that whistled out the cold night winds.

Aun winced at the hideous sound even as she lay her smaller axes into both shoulders of a shambling creature, cleaving off the arms its hollow eyes still held a green glow until she swept low to take off the knee.

Even as she was hacking into the next still the revenant was trying to get at her crawling with its distended jaw through the dirt.

She could hear the chaos and see the flare light the sky in the column behind her, how they had gotten so deep before spotting anything could only be the work of carefully placed Suppressive Runes along the path...a path that denied anyone escape as the animal traps to the north and south kept them in the corridor where the dead had been planted to drag more victims to join them .

Shouldering another aside her axes sung the glassy cry of their frost enchantment, the dead flesh crackling even blacker with Magick frostbite as she slogged through the middle of a fourth - or was it fifth.

Stomping down on another head trying to lift from the ground she rushed to help a handful of spearwomen slashing with daggers at twice their number of undead, their spears lodged in two or more of the zombies, yet still they fought on.

With a flying leap Aun hacked into the backs of the Vetala, slashing through the middle of their backs to try and split them vertically, the sharpness of the axes and the rotten constitution of the vetala let her cut three down this way, the other Dathomiri following suit cleaving the numbers that had encircled them as blasts from scrolls and runes set some of the Vetala alight.

The spearwomen secured they joined Aun moving back to help the others, momentum building with each dozen of dead they put back into the ground, quickly working out the best ways to ‘disarm’ the senseless creatures.

But even as they began to wrest control of the situation a secondary wave was spreading through the ranks, as they hacked down the dead like rotten trees the thought this might to be their fate is they continued fighting against Lykana was lit.

Indeed the fact Lykana had managed to place and through her Reapers raise so many dead was a potent reminder of her dark powers.

Such doubts tingled at Auns mind even as she cut through with a growing band to Djo’s forces holding the center, Alwyn with her, grisly piles of still twitching limbs about them.

Caked in ancient black blood Aun ran low and raised her axes up high through two more before booting a third to clear a path to join the leaders.

“Is the Vanguard secure?” Alwyn quickly asked
“Peola’s taken charge,” Aun replied her small axes blunted from so many bones, however rotten, she spun behind the Whistling caverns chieftain for cover to swap to her two handed Frost-Eater, rushing back out to cleave two Vetala in one sweep.

“Where are Karintha’s People?” Aun asked, suddenly aware of their absence,

“No idea...they were mostly in the rear guard, might have been caught there…” Alwyn grunted

“Or fled... “ Djo said snidely, her ceremonial spear pirouetting through two necks long drained of blood.

Alwyn ignored the jibe quickly taking stock, so far it seemed no more Vetala were getting to them, the undead number diminishing ever more quickly, yet she had to concede their absence was odd.

“Aun see if you can reach them find out what's going on,” Alwyn added the red haired northerner quickly ripping a path out and into the open, her housecarls covering her from all sides

She passed Haldan and his northmen with the Offowrlder Jo slashing through undead Nyak’s, hurling some into the very animal traps the Reapers had intended for the  Coalition, then past Yzzerhera’s warriors who had assembled most of the rear of the column and were now moving forward, the Vetala’s smoking ruins blasted by spell and electro-shot.

Still no sign of Karintha’s people she headed further back.

Here the light from the flares was gone, only the Ichor moon lit the forest with a green tinge, and the Forest eerily silent till she heard voices ahead.. 

“...caught up to them over the ridge line…” Jenaea sniffed wiping a spot of blood from her nose, she threw the Reaper Mage to the ground.

The Women of the People were surrounded by masses of twice dead Vetala, the petty shambling things barely an inconvenience to their demi-god strength and speed...but hanging upside down from multiple tree branches were trashing still ‘animated’ Vetala, Yorna,Kassyndra and Adaea motioning deep black Orbs over them as in the center of the copse KArintha stood before a group of six Reaper Jenaea, Lyaea and Evaea had brought in, each carrying two effortlessly over their shoulders.

“Killed the other four, they were just warriors” Jenaea finished as Karintha paced around the captives.  before suddenly stopping.

“Aun why don’t you join us,”

Never afraid, but somewhat uncertain what was going on she approached from the trees.

“As you can see everything here is under control,” Karintha said assuringly before turning back to the Reapers.

“Your necromancy is impressive, far more attuned to large scale and far more advanced decay revival than our own techniques,”  Karintha never failed to give credit where it was due, Aethan necromancy was very much specialised to revving a recently dead individual, a horde of long dead would make for a useful addition to their skill set.

“You’ll tell us how you did it...then how to unbind the spell...the extent to which the Ichor moon’s effect enhances the spell and how it might be replicated…”

“We will tell you nothing!” the Reaper Mage spat from her chapped lips worn from the incantations.   

Karintha offered a sad smile

“I know...but telling you what I want will unconsciously prime your...less advanced mind... to bring that knowledge to the forefront…Ari and Kiraea will do the rest…” she stepped back as the two women came forward, orbs in each hand.  The Reapers began to sweat  despite the frigid air, their eyes rolling back in their head, noses bleeding.

“Ari is very talented,” Karintha explained to Aun who looked shocked
“Her adoptive father is of the Anzati species, they have a particular way of extracting memories, and though he never uses his full potential, she still picked up the instinct of it,”

The casual tone of the conversation was utterly at odds with the obvious mind rending being inflicted on the Reapers, and the twisted Magical experiments on the still trashing Vetala as the aethans tried to both reverse engineer the necromancy and steal the designs directly.

“This will ensure we have wards in place so such an ambush does reoccur.” Karintha added noting Aun’s troubled gaze upon the proceedings.

“It’s a shame the other Witches haven’t been as willing to learn the darker arts,” the fiery northern girl surprised
“They might’ve unseated Lykana long ago if they had understood her powers better,”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Karintha agreed, noting that should Alwyn prove...unreliable...Aun, whose support among the northern tribes was complete might make a more...pliant leader.

It took mere minutes for Aethan cognition to achieve what humans could not in days, Milaea while troubled at the means of extraction was slowly coming round to understanding the ends importance over outsider ‘means’ more than happy to unleash the unbinding spell that turned the remaining Vetala to the husks they were.

By morning light the moon had set, over two dozen Dathomiri had been killed, more traumatized by facing the hideous undead, and Karintha rejoined the camp - brushing away questions explaining they had secured the rear guard while performing an unbinding spell - and sharing a sly smile with Aun across the leaders group.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 40 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Jaws of the Fanged God — Part 3

Battle of the Fangs

There they were as promised, more in fact.  80 warriors from six of the great river tribes beneath their banners on the north, and 60 more from the River Mountains to the south.

After the losses on the road here they were a desperately needed re-enforcement.

But in between them, firm on the northern side of the river that flowed west to east into the tall rocky pillars known as the fangs that were the natural border between then Grain lands and mountains, was Lykana’s forces, her Cousin Lyra’s banner held high over 150 warriors, 30 mounted on rancors.

“Traitors,” Aun seethed
“No,” Djo riding her mount beside Alwyn countered
“Lykana just got to them first,”

They had come here on the promise of those clans joining them, needed them after the losses in the forest more than ever.  Now they faced another battle.

Alwyn had the weary force form up on the other side of the river, Karintha offering some unique suggestions on how to re-constitute the grouping of the clans warriors of their now 300 strong force into more flexible units with spears front rank, archers or coven second rank and swords, axe or scimitar third rank in 5 large blocks of 70 warriors.

They had a slight numerical advantage 300 to 290, but on the other side of the river on higher ground, and with fixed artillery assembled and time to prepare wards and spells Lyra held a far stronger position, and coming off the constant ambushes to get here Alwyns force was weary and shaken.

“The Rightful Queen of Dathomir,” Lyra called out voice enhanced by the Arts
“Has expressed her displeasure at this uprising, but offers mercy to all those who are willing to throw down their arms and end this madness,”

They had always known such an offer would come, now they waited for the strings

“You shall be allowed to return to your native lands unmolested, and requires only two hostages to be provided.”

Lyra was the most reasonable of the family, her white and red face paint couldn’t hide the creases of an exhaustive life serving her cousin. A competent if not spectacular commander in the field, she preferred the old style of posturing with numbers over outright battles that Lykana thought had more ‘impact’.

Her own voice enhanced Alwyn replied after consulting with the other leaders.

“Lykana’s authority was never legitimate, and we will no longer be intimidated, if we must fight to regain our independence we will,”

Lyra could only sigh she had her fill of this years ago, she understood what Lykana was trying to do, had been enthusiastic for the unification at first, now after countless marches to intimidate tribes into compliance…

The Reaper Coven Leader on a rancor beside her gave her a fleeting but sharp glance.  Resigned it was all too late Lyra did as she always had and obeyed, if obliquely trying to soften, her sisters orders.

“I will send 30 Champions to the river, send those you deem worthy in no greater number and let it be seen who had the greatest cunning and skill,”

A sense of relief swept over the forces as a trial by champion combat was announced by Lyra, the coalition quickly summoned up their best – spear women, archers, swordswomen and witches – it was essentially to have a proper mix of fighters, but also that all the clans were represented by at least one warrior.

Each champion was called by name and applauded as they walked forward, receiving totems and fetishes to help protect them in the coming battle.
Jo watched the theatre with curiosity until Haldan bellowed out
“For the Rinki’s Glaciers, I Go with Jo Blood Sword!”
The former Mak’tors eyes bulged as Haldan slapped him on the back

“Come let us win glory baldy!”

Jo was equal parts terrified and flattered as the collective pressure of the crowd seemed to whisk his legs into motion such that he barely heard the final pronouncement.

“For the clan of the Three Goddesses I submit myself,” Karintha declared

The other Aethan women quickly entered a thought meld shocked Karintha had not chosen Milaea who was the first to protest

<I have the best chance of incapacitating all the enemy champions, even by brute power,>

Ari, Kassyndra and Sofa sent corroborating ‘nods’

<You also have the greatest ability to repel any attempt to cheat or launch a surprise attack,> Karintha countered as she strode forward confidently twirling her twin shortswords.

<Then send Ari instead,> the unspoken fear anyone else but her Ari and Sofa would show little mercy.

<I will handle this,> Karintha insisted, ensuring any further protest would have to call in question her competency directly.

The champions drew up in straight lines on opposite sides of the stream, the ground all pebble and coarse sand as the thin waters trickled between them.

Jo grasped his saber and steadied his breathing, looking but not really seeing the woman warrior opposite who looked down physically and figuratively at her opponent.

Lyra gestured to Alwyn who nodded in turn.

“Begin!”

The fight was a microcosm of Dathomiri warfare, each side split into groups of ranged, magical and melee fighters, the latter charging across the river to engage while the others sought to flank and support. 

Jo found himself thigh deep in the river, his blade locked against an electro spear, then defending against a VibroScythe as the warrior to his left fell leaving him on the end of the melee line alone.

Karintha had not moved at all, simply remaining in place brushing off the occasional bolt or curse thrown her way.

Ari felt a need to grip Milaea’s hand to stop her from intervening as the battle of champions turned gradually against Alwyn’s force, the Reaper archers with powerful crossbows beginning to take a toll with Alwyns own archers fending off magical attacks.

Jo felt defeat hovering even as he managed to hurl off one attacked and slash a deep gouge in the other's thigh forcing them to scramble back up the river bank to escape.  Lyra breathed a sigh of relief as her champions locked in a winning momentum.  She hardly noticed Karintha staring at her waiting for that very moment.

Far from idle the Aethan would be Matriarch who had been weaving her telekinetic tendrils low and deep through the battle. Now walking forward with poise she tightened her grip.

Twelve of Lyra’s champions stiffened and collapsed as their carotid arteries were simultaneously closed, the sudden loss of blood to the brain ending their thoughts if not their lives.

A single deft leap from the river bank put her behind the main melee, her feet and swords moving even before she landed breaking backs and slicing joints respectively, downing four more.   

On landing she turned to one of the more potent witches and hurled a concentrated bolt of lightning that forced the witch into an eldritch shield even as she downed another of the melee fighters that sought to engage her with almost dismissive ease.

All attention on Karintha, Jo began helping his injured comrades back to the bank, stealing occasional glances at the ceaseless march of the Aethan woman.  The remaining Champions put up good defences, even managing a few hits and curses, but there was simply no way half a dozen humans could stop such a force – Jo knew better than anyone.

Bones were broken, bodies were hurled across the battlefield, magical shields were shattered as Karintha advanced leaving behind shattered champions.

Lyra now looking at her barely noticed her Champions were defeated, Karintha kept walking straight toward her lines as if she intended to take on the whole army herself.

It was an intentional replication of the Varangian, devastating a dozen or more champions and then marching forward with neither fear nor fatigue.  The Allied tribes took careful note, a wave of worry and doubt spreading through them.

“Challenge her!” The Reaper Coven Leader, a thin bitter faced witch Ny’sska hissed at Lyra as Karintha kept on marching forward.

Lyra was many things, but a fanatic and a fool were not among them.  This was one of the Offworlders Lykana had warned about, the same species as the Varangian.

Finally close enough Karintha shouted to the enemy army.

“Your Champions are defeated, we have won the day, now you may treat your wounded and join our march to free Dathomir from the Tyranny of Lykana’s rule.”

She paused to lock eyes with each of the tribal chief on the other side in turn.

“Any who wish to challenge me on behalf of the false Queen…” she spread her arms and lit her short swords with their aetheric flame enchantments

“Step forward,”

It seemed a pure ultimatum, join and betray her sister – a massive morale coup – or challenge her in single combat that Lyra was certain to lose – her best fighting days behind her.

There was a third option,

“You have no voice here offworlder!” Lyra replied her hand surreptitiously dipping to a pouch that contained an infernal metal transmitter.

“Your masters have no honour seeking victory with foreign arms!”  Lyra was keenly aware how hollow that argument was given the Varangians own origin on a Gamorrean trader ship full of dead Force sensitive corpses so many years ago.

She chanced a brief glance to the tribal leaders on her side, their countenances hard to read at this distance behind their white and blue war paint.

“I will not lower myself to engage an offworld mercenary,” Lyra sneered for effect
“An Offworlder to kill and Offworlder,”

With a quick press of the small device in her hand, obscured under her grip on the reins of her rancor, Lyra ordered the attack.

Centuri Ran-Goff of the 14th Iridonian Legion wasted no time ordering his Jet-Pack equipped Ventus Equites – Wind Cavalry – into action with one hand signal while his other gave the go for the Vulpes Snipers on the Mountainous ‘Fangs’ overlooking the river battle to open fire.

As always Jenaea was first to sense the added danger some 10 seconds before it occurred in real time.

Ten seconds was all that was needed.

Milaea, Lyaea, Sofa and Adaea ignored completely their own danger sense as eight snipers squeezed the triggers on their XT-9’s, their squeezing hearts the targets Kassyndra, Yorna, Jenaea and Ari in the rear lines unconcerned by the Repeaters the Equites intended to unleash upon them when within range as their jet packs blazed orange.

The Aethan women knew with absolute certainty their males would protect them.

Eight shadowed bolts were spun off course by aetheric-electro distortions 15 metres from their barrels, twenty four Equites stalled as micro dovin basals tethered them to the ground against their jet packs thrust by crunching gravity.

Karintha’s promise the Iridonians would no longer interfere was made manifest in the form of 8 Aethan men leaping onto the high flat rock atop the Fangs where the Iridonians had positioned themselves secretly days before, followed by two dozen Yuzzhan Vong - amphistaffs hissing with delight as they bellowed oaths to the Avatar of Yun-Yammka of the enemies they would slay.

48 Iridonians met the force with vibro blades, repeaters, deployable shields, disruptor grenades and thermal-pistols, the reply was MASER based Hades rifles, Oblivion Swords and Naginatas, Amphistaffs, Thud bugs and telekinetic hammers.

On the field, Karintha simply smiled as, so far as the Dathomiri knew, absolutely nothing happened.

Lyra pressed the button again and again, and still there was no sniper fire cutting her challenger down, not jet-pack troopers unleashing fire on the offworlders among Alwyn’s ranks. 

The buzzer on Centuri Ran-Goffs helm was ignored as he found himself locked in frenetic combat with Lydan whose naginata came closer with each sweep to severing his head.

The tops of the Fangs turned into a freakish show of blaster bolts, explosions, blood and death completely ignored by the Dathomiri focused solely on tension between the unknown warrior and the sister of the Queen.

“I will do it if you will not!” Ny’sska hissed tightening her reins to have her Rancor take flight.

“I Ny’sska Venom-Eye Loyal and Favoured of the Queen will vanquish this challenge to her Serene highness!” her raspy voice bellowed enhanced by the Ichor. 

“That ain’t good…” Jo said supporting injured warriors on each arm as the Ranor landed two meters from Karintha throwing up pebble strewn sand into her face. 

“You will entrust our victory to this offworlder,” Djo snapped at Alwyn
“I don’t think I have a choice anymore,” she replied, glancing every few seconds to the top of the Fang where…whatever was occurring up there was becoming quieter.

They had to respect the Rite of Single combat, even if one challenger was not mounted.

Ny’sska ran her sharp finger nail down her leather cuirass slicing open the string that bound it to reveal her heavily tattooed naked breast as her mouth recited the new chants Lykana had taught that would give her and her mount incredible strength.  The Rancor roared spittle at the statue like Karintha as its eyes began to glow green and pulse in time with Ny’sska’s – finally all but undressed her skin drew in the energies upon the wind with no barrier.

Karintha’s eyes merely narrowed as the Rancor slashed.

There were ancient tales of the first Rancor riders, of great hunters and Heroes who had faced a Rancor, even Gorgara on foot and won, but few believed them to be more than just stories until the coming of the Varangian.  He had defeated mounted warriors with his strength and sheer bloody resilience combined with Lykana’s enchantments.

Now Karintha was performing just as well.  She moved like a shadow between the swift thrusts and vicious snaps of the creatures fangs, Ny’sska raining down her own powerful blasts of magicka and attempting to catch Karintha in an ichor cage to limit her movements.

Genetically perfected speed and dexterity kept the Aethan woman just ahead of the beast, who no matter the time bending enchantments could not fully compensate for its lumbering figure.  The hide however was twice as hard with the green glow of Lykana’s latest enchantments, Karintha’s glancing slashes with her swords barely causing scratches let along the muscle damage she needed.

Frustration began to rise in Ny’sska whose mouth never stopped chattering horrific words of malefic power, Karintha had by now learned enough of the Dathomiri magicks to protect herself from such – if only just.  Annoyance went both ways as Karintha found herself unable to get under the beast long enough to plunge into the more vulnerable belly, or behind to try and get at the rider.

A slight slip of the pebbled ground wrong footed Karintha enough to be struck by the back hand of the beast, even accounting for her 280 kilogram weight the blow staggered her and was exploited immediately by a slap from the other, the aethan only narrowly avoiding the nails.

Buffeted about Karintha struggled to stand as she rolled and crawled to avoid being stomped or splatted further, finally on her back she rolled under one grasping claw Both swords straight up using the downward momentum to plunge them into the beasts palm.

Ichor glowing infusion made the beast senseless to the pain as it drew its hand back and tried with the other as Karintha telekinetically dragged he blades down the arm opening up the muscles and trailing up the arm until finally noticing Ny’sska diverted her attention to pluck the blades out, streams of black blood following them from the now useless arm.

Rolling under Karintah hammered her fists into its legs knowing I would do little than stagger the beast, all she needed to come out behind it and summon her baldes back with a leap onto the creatures lower back – she used her swords like climbing picks to begin to ascend and deal more krequito bites to the monster.

The responses was furious the creature clawing at her as the Reaper spun and stabbed down with her spear, her naked bodies tattoo’s glowing ever brighter, Karintha used her legs to launch herself up, a green blast striking her in the legs causing her fall to miss, but her blades still tore into the leathery wings, rapidly reducing the creatures mobility.

Diving under the furious sweeps and blinding curse blasts KAritnha hurled her own powers in a furious torrent of aetheric fire into the beasts briefly exposed stomach, the sheer heat boiling the leathery hide to popping dripping fluid and cooking the organs beneath.

The Rancor began to stagger, its Ichor shield flickering as loss of function exceeded the endurance of the magick.

With a venomous hiss Ny’sska leapt off the back of the dying beast tendrils of energy from her breast piercing the creature’s body and turning its raw dying matter into pure energy to fuel her body even more strongly.

Karintha never doubted her ability to succeed even as the Night sister leered and glowed with consumed powers that flared in the senses of even those with the least attenuation to the force.

The Rancors body decayed at a rate of a decade per second as the Reaper took Lykana’s Life drain power to its most extreme excess her jaw distending with each of the words she recited preparing to unleash a curse that the bards would scare children with for centuries to come.

It would’ve been impressive Karintha had to admit, if only she had not possessed the one ability for which the Dathomiri had not analogue from what she had learned over the last few months.

Inverting the natural course of the aethers flow Karintha shielded herself in a Null field as the curse hammered down upon her, the sudden absence shocking the Night Sister for a brief moment before Aethan reflexes put Karintha’s hand around her throat.

With strength four times that of an athletic human Karintha crushed the throat with one hand while driving her fist into the breast with the other – all the kinetic and eldritch shields rendered obsolete by the aether repellent field that hovered barely a cells width around Karintha’s body.

Despite the crushing physical damage Ny’sska did not died instantly, the power she had guzzled from the Rancor and through her magic to destroy now kept her writhing in artificial agony for minutes in a wrecked body as Karintha sweated and huffed at the exertion of pushing the aether away from her across four dimensions.

Karintha broke first giving up her null field, staggering even as she kept holding the Night Sisters corpse aloft. 

Ny’sska still had some four minutes of life energy in her chaining her soul to the cadaver – but with her spine and throat ruined no ability to weave any spells.

Both armies stood as silent, revolted, sentinels to the lingering death caused by the noxious combination of magick and anti-magick.

The winds direction obvious Lyra sagged in her saddle, the few Reapers she had with her began discarding the more overt signs of their allegiance as Karintha stood tall and victorious.

Alwyn wondered if she was trading one Queen for another.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 40 — The Warrior, the Witch and the Matriarch — Jaws of the Fanged God — Part 4

Lykana

Her displeasure could not be measured.

It erupted after long, silent minutes as a shattering of powered crystals and the spontaneous combustion of a number of tapestries.

Not only had her sister turned, but her mercenaries had been killed to a man, Ima Kun unusually reticent regarding the battle, he was ‘analysing combat data recovered’.

Scouts had the Rebel force numbering over 500 marching straight to Rancors tooth.  At best she could trust 40 or so mounted Reapers to make hit run attacks on their flanks.

She would have to confront this directly, have the Varangian slaughter their offworld interlopers, and give Ima Kun more free reign to deal with them.

Stiridng through the halls of the fortress she observed the preparations under way, dozens of newly made runes to empower her most loyal warriors – yes her Reaper had lost with the same magick at the Fangs, but she knew null abilities could not be sustained for more than a few minutes. 

Reaching the end of the hall she looked out on her encampment, 700 warriors in all now, many mounted and backed by the best artillery on the planet.

She could still win this war she thought as she felt a tooth loosen in her mouth, the degradation already re-commencing.

She had to.

<<<<>>>>

“You look like hell,” was Sofa’s blunt assessment of her husband as they met outside the main camp two nights after the battle.

The Iridonians had been prevented from intervening, but they were a well equipped and experienced force and had took a longer time than expected to ‘quell’, evidence of which was written in the carbon scored armour, limps and bruised sore bodies of the Aethan men, to say nothing of the Extolled…although the Yuuzhan Vong Warriors gloried in the pain they endured in their victory fighting beside the Avatars of the Gods.

“It looks worse than it is,” was his reply, an eye constantly on Maekal who was tinkering with a captured Legion suit of armour, convincing him of the more material reality of the galaxy difficult on a planet where witches were endemic.

“Everything here is worse than it looks,” Sofa huffed as the other women broke into small groups with different men to talk. With an exaggerated sigh she leant on his chest.

“I’m sure you caught up on Karintha’s one-woman army moment,”

He nodded, aura pensive

“She seems to be conducting this whole war…and everyone in it…and you’re fine with that,”

It didn’t take him long to respond

“It…is her rightful place as Taran’s wife to lead the effort to recover him,”

“And the rest?” he knew what she was talking about

“That is for the women of the People to decide upon or simply accept…is it true Mack is here?” he redirected

“Leave him be, Milaea is keeping an eye on him and will make sure he doesn’t talk when we leave….” she trailed her hand down his face, smears of dark alien blood and soot wiping away

“...come on let's get you cleaned up under the waterfalls...see if there isn’t a quiet cave behind them.

They passed a Dathomiri coming from just such a brief wash headed toward her own ‘companion’.

“You did well today Gray,”

Jo smiled as he turned despite himself…a smile that dropped when he saw it wasn’t Alwyn who had walked up behind him.

He gazed down.

“Mistress…” he addressed Jeisena.

“hmmm….” With a sultry walk and trailing hand over his shoulders she sat beside him on the log about the camp fire.

“My sister informs me you fought well enough to be considered a champion by the northmen, it seems I did pick my mate well…Ulwyn is safe in the Caverns,” she added the last knowing it would be what he would ask, her daughter's safety ever foremost in her mind.

She ran her fingers through his unwashed hair, the heady scent of sweat and blood still upon him.  Jo was still in response.

“You deserve a reward for your efforts,”

He stood stone as her hands started to creep about his clothes.

“What is wrong with you gray, I came all this way, are you so stupid you can’t take a hint!”

“Stop calling me that,” he breathed
“What?”
“Stupid, imbecile, fool,” his heart was racing with the excitement of the transgression
“I know that is not how you have to treat me so why the hell do you,”
She tensed to stand up
“You dare…”
“Yes I dare!” he shouted back

“I know it’s a shavit storming war, but I actually felt free for the first time in years these last few weeks and I’m not going back to being your pet Chitlik, jumping into bed with you whenever you decide you want some attention,”

“Well you won’t have to worry about that for some time…” she seethed
“I might forget this ever happened if you apologize now…”

His eyes widened with his mouth
“Apolo…me apologize to you, are you completely Chirodactyl dren crazy! I’m not apologizing and I won’t let you forget the day I finally stood up for myself, I’m not a lackey like the other men of this planet and I won’t be treated like one, I’m Jo’Set’Mack, a frelling Knight of the Mak’tor and I deserve and demand respect,”

“Will you two quiet down!” Alwyn intervened “Like children,”

“What are you doing here!” Jeisena snapped
“I came to speak to Jo, see how he was after the fight,”
“Oh,” Jeisena replied incredulous hands on her hips leaning into her sister
“’Jo’ is it…is this why you have been thinking above your station fool?”
“Don’t call him that Jesi,” Alwyn countered
“He’s a good provider and a great warrior you should be thankful to have such a mate,”

Jeisena raised an eyebrow
“Or should I be thankful you haven’t taken him from me yet?”
“If he wants to come to me he would be welcomed…” Alwyn said firmly matching her sister’s posture
“With open legs,” Jeisena sneered

“…but for whatever incomprehensible reason,” Alwyn ignored the jibe however accurate

“He remains loyal to you, and if I were you, sister, I wouldn’t take that for granted…Good night sister, Jo…” Alwyn left with a nod before she lost her patience completely.

“So is that it Gray you prefer my sister?” She poked her finger into his chest, Jo remaining unusually silent after his outburst
“Well go have her then for all I care, I’m done with you,” she spun round arms crossed.

Maker knew he was tempted, Alwyn was beautiful, intelligent, and most of all kind. He had never chosen Jeisena, begrudgingly accepted life with her as a punishment. 

A future of his choice, however undeserved, was just one step away..

“You don’t really mean that,” he finally whispered.

Her back to him hid her countenance but could not hide the mix of jealousy and guilt bleeding  in the Force around her.

“Don’t I?” she sniffed poorly, hiding her tear choked voice.

“You wouldn’t want to lose the one person you can rely upon in this galaxy,” he replied

“Rely...because you’re obliged to be with me, not because you want to,” she replied quietly,

“Maybe, at the start,” He said honestly
“But I do love you now Jeisena,  I should’ve said it sooner...it wasn’t just Ulwyn anymore, it’s you too…when you’re kind, affectionate...but you make it so god-damned hard.”

Jo moved closer behind her, finally understanding in between all the cultural differences, and mistrust the core of his discomfort.

“You knew that...you didn’t have to threaten me with losing it to get me to stay…”

Slowly he turned her around, seeing Jeisena perhaps more truly than ever before, in all her insecurity, the young witch sent into a strange galaxy where her status among a tiny tribe of matriarchal witches was irrelevant, where only being as harsh as she could would enable her to survive…

...and in desperate isolation taking the first opportunity to make a friend by becoming pregnant, only to find herself then reliant upon Jo, a man she did not know, the final insult to what shreds of her cultural pride remained, twisted into emotional blackmail to keep him from leaving. 

“I don’t know how else to keep you,” she whispered, lowering her head on his chest.

Nothing could be resolved in the here and now while the stood on the precipice of a global war, but for the first time in all the years they had been together, as Jo wrapped his arms around her,  they were truly honest.

<<<<>>>>

Alwyn’s mood was less sour than disappointed as she headed through the camp, she didn’t begrudge her sister having a mate...but why did it have to be one she was so strongly attracted to…

Though it wasn’t unknown for sisters to share an especially virile male….

The kerfuffle up ahead broke her ruminations.

“...traded fairly and squarely,” Kiraea insisted using her height to lean over the shorter Placid Lake Clan Warrior.

Kiraea, Adaea and Lyaea stood on one side, Placid Lake and Singing Mountain Clan women on the other.

“She didn’t have authority to allow you access, and you misinterpreted what you wanted,” Complained the Placid Lakes woman.

“What is the matter?” Alwyn demanded

“Finally,” Kiraea huffed
“We traded a few batteries in exchange for taking a copy of some books, now they want to renege on the deal,”

This was the last thing Alwyn needed.

“Books yes not our Clan Chronicle and Tome of Arts,”

“Isn’t a book just a book?” Adaea said naively as possible

Alwyn was well aware throughout their march the Aethans had been trading batteries and other offworld trinkets for copies of sacred text, spell scrolls and numerous enchanted objects. 

At first she thought it simply part of what they had stated from the start, a desire for trade, now it seemed more like they were...cataloguing everything about the Dathomiri and their magick.

“A problem Chief,” Djo interrupted, her long face and tall frame accentuated by her domineering attitude.

“No… just… let’s go back to the beginning, who did you trade with?”

“Merlit,” Adaea pointed out a young woman with only three black marks under her left eye, perhaps 19 or 20, certainly without permission to offer a copy of the Clan Chronicle or Tome of Arts,important tribal documents a copy of which often travelled with the Chief in a special chest.

“Did she actually hand you the book when you made the trade?” Alwyn asked

“Well no, we had to go into the tent to get it…” Adaea said sheepishly

“You went into the chief's tent and took them?”

“We didn’t take them, we just flicked through the pages and recorded them,” Lyaea smiled throwing a deep black ball of some kind up in the air then catching it so quickly Alwyn could barely see anything but a dark streak.

“You intruded where your feet were not to tread and transcribed what is not for your eyes to see,” - the voice this time was the inimitable commanding tone of Chief Djo already suspicious of the offworlders this would only worsen things.

“What is your true intention, what exactly do you want here offworlder?” Djo asked moving into the conversation, the only woman taller than the tall Aethan women, albeit far thinner.

“Anything we can get,” Kiraea smiled back

“Your insolence is not endearing,” Djo countered quickly

“And your resistance is futile,”

“Cease this squabbling!” Alwyn sighed, putting her hands up and slowly lowering them to draw the energy of the situation down.
“We’re all on the same side,”
Djo raised an eyebrow of incredulity.
“This sounds like a Misunderstanding….perhaps if you just...remove whatever copy you made,”

“Fine it’s not on this recording device,” Lyaea said never stopping her irritating catch and throw game

“You’ve done nothing!” Djo complained

“Prove I haven’t,” Lyaea tossed the black ball to Djo who staggered down as she caught the ultradense orb.

As she felt the hungry pull of the orb on her mind she immediately released it.

“We...have no way to verify you have removed it from this..thing…”

Alwyn was sharp enough to know the word games being played here, Lyaea had said it was not on this recording device, hurling it at Djo simply moved the conversation and point of attention too fast for anyone to pick up on the semantic game that it was probably recorded on another such device to begin with.

“You can trust us, after all Karintha just won the last battle for you,” Lyaea quickly glanced to Alwyn and winked, she knew Alwyn knew there was nothing she could say without inflaming the situation more.

Djo bristled at being outwitted by what to her appeared a mere girl, their exact age was never clear.

“Alwyn, I would speak with you privately in my tent…”

Once satisfied the disagreement was over, somewhat sickeningly smoothed with the Placid Lake clan by offering Republic Confectionery bars, Alwyn joined Djo in her tent.

“Who are these...Things do you even know what they truly want,” The Tall woman demanded.

“No,” Alwyn had to admit
“But they saved my Clan from the Varangian, were instrumental in gathering allies and we have a common cause and similar culture, we can’t win this war with the Varangian against us, with them we have a dozen like him,”

“And at what cost, this war is becoming a battleground for offworld armies, I saw what was happening on top of the Fangs, the Mechanical warriors and the Black ones, my scouts have seen creatures that can only be described as horrific trailing our camp in service to these allies of yours,”

She dipped her hand into a small pool and summoned from the Ichor an image of a humanoid creature with no nose, horned armour and slithering weapons, skin pierced and plucked beyond even what Dathomiri would consider reasonable.

The image of the Yuuzhan Vong shocked Alwyn, Djo noticed immediately.

“They didn’t tell you did they,” her tone more soothing

“They are sailing their own agenda down a river of our peoples blood, since my clan has joined my warriors have reported how they trade for every item of value or magick imaginable, trinkets for valuable cultural artefacts as we just saw, have heard how they have advanced rapidly studying with the covens - they master our arts but never share their own - like that irritating girl they obfuscate and dodge every attempt…”

Djo shook her hand clean of the Ichor infused water.

“Worst of all, the warriors, by and large, are in awe of them, their generosity in handing out ‘candies’, protecting them from the nightmare curses, their skill in combat, healing wounds rapidly...But Alwyn we both know they cannot be trusted.”

“I know…” Alwyn admitted

“Everything they do makes us rely on them more, Karintha winning the Battle of the Fangs for us single handedly…” her posture deflated

“We're in the Jaws of the Fanged God, we can’t keep slowly dying under Lykana’s tyranny, and without them it's a quick death at the hand of the Varangian,”

“He could be overpowered, we have the numbers”

“While Lykana is still there to boost him with more Ichor than Yzzerhera can muster?” Alwyn dismissed the costly idea
“Are you willing to join the ranks of the chosen against him, and then watch as Lykana uses necromancy to bring him back, three, four times?”
 
The coupling of Dathomirs greatest warrior and greatest witch was what had kept them enduring Lykana’s rule for so long, much though they hated it, the swiftness of death was too much a deterrent.

“We can use our allies as much as they are using us, they want the Varangian alive, their patience will run out before Lykana’s does, but the pressure is forcing Lykana to show her own offworld dealings. They’ll go after Lykana directly sooner rather than later, we just need to make sure before they do, we have time to unite the majority of tribes.”

Djo twirled a strand of her slightly greying hair, considering the benefits of having these monsters break Lykana and her Reapers.

“You’re colder than you let on Alwyn,”

“I am the chief of my tribe,” Alwyn replied, the one fact that justified her every action.

<<<<>>>>