The Way it Wasn’t
Chapter 6 - Part 1
The Prophet was dead.
Slain by the last Jedi Skywalker and his allies in a crater on Bfpaash, the Force he had reawakened in in the millions of his followers began to fracture without the nexus that was his body.
Yet the Great Work would continue.
Must continue.
Shapers and Wielders – those most adept in utilizing the vongforce – analysed the remains of the battlefield.
Skywalker’s Aethan ally had done something to time itself.
Outposts across the Empire began detecting strange fluctuations in Dark Energy.
Dovin basal’s, gravity sensitive creatures that propelled the vong fleet, began turning their singularities on themselves in mass suicides.
Yorik-kul blessed workers sensitive to time and the force tore their own skulls or equivalent apart.
The galaxy itself was being rent apart by degrees.
There was no solution in this time without the Prophet.
They had to save their Saviour in the time the breach to the fabric of reality had occurred.
The Wielders found the point, Bfpaash 700 years earlier – something had been sent there that was destroying their reality in a parallel progression of time to its arrival.
They needed to do like wise.
To send an object, a living being, was impossible.
But the Prophet had taught them – with the Force All things were possible.
One of their own – the mind and soul of the most dedicated would be sent back to a body capable of holding it even earlier – 750 years to give ample time to prepare.
Records were scoured, ancient vaa tumours implanted to find all details of where the Praetorite Vong advance scout had been in that era.
One location was found.
The stars were bleeding pink as they dislocated from the Dark Matter that held them in check.
Nightmare tortures turned even the most able into raving mad men as reality sundered.
In the last seconds that the Possible Universe that they inhabited died, the Prophets zealous followers succeeded.
<<<<>>>>
Alert as ever Kuun Carr saw his leader fall to the ground.
The Shaper nearby moved to assist, but Carr held him back. Already dozens had fallen to local diseases the Praetorite Vong had no immunity to, efforts to develop vaccines were slow at best.
If the Prefect was similarly afflicted…they could not risk more losses.
Yhum glanced between the Prefect and his second, wondering if Carr would finally murder the Prefect and claim his title.
Hyash Naa gripped his head as another entered it…
The whole force stopped dead in the sweltering humidity of the paddy fields outside the small hamlet on the green skied world at the edge of the galaxy.
Naa wrestled with an unseen, unknown foe of some kind, sweat eat up by the voddun crab armour.
Till he finally stopped.
Naa’s eyes opened, but it was no longer Naa behind them…or not fully…the presence of the Prophets Slayer was now indelibly mingled through the yammosk tissue all Vong officers were implanted with allowing a more comprehensive and ‘firm’ implantation of memories, abilities and most importantly
intentionsHe looked around and noted the surrounds, the mix of memories forming into one conscious drive.
“Prefect?” Yhum inquired
“Proceed with the cleansing.”
<<<<>>>>
“Do you think there’ll be dancing girls?” A’lan asked as they strode through the thin film of…mostly water…that lined the rotten ferrocrete in the sub levels of Coruscant.
The warren here stank of chemical and biological refuse, beings walked heads beaten low or thug high depending on their station. The three Mak’tor strode confidently but not aggressively cowled beneath their well worn cloaks of brown.
“What is it with you and dancing girls?” Jo snapped back, A’lan had asked at every one
“Well it’s just you see it in the holo’s and so far we haven’t seen any…I’m starting to think they might not be accurate representations of the Coruscant underworld,” he grinned
Odjina ignored A’lan’s baiting of Jo’nas. For the last week they’d been down here looking to ‘buy’ the new falvour of Spice doing the rounds but had no success so far. The small analysis kit on Jo’nas back had returned only regular statistical variants of the chemical composition levels on all the Spice they’d bought in tiny plas-bags, nothing matching the samples of the new one.
Yshrrk’s briefing notes, prepared by Tnbu, indicated the new variant was a mix of regular Spice and various hallucinogens, some synthetic, some artificial, that caused users to experience wild delusions, but also contained a high level of hormonal stimulants that resulted in their behaviour becoming quickly violent with a sudden surge of ‘fight’ hormones.
It was this violet reaction that put it on the Jedi’s agenda, Spice was everywhere on Coruscant despite the official ban, the CSF turned a blind eye to its use on the underlevels, the Sisyphean task of arresting dealers not worth the resources given their already heavy work load – but reports of sentients acting out violent delusions could not be ignored…
Most likely as they are worried adventurous mid level teens will get a hold of some Odjina sneered cynically
“Well if there are any make sure you have enough to tip them,” Jo finally replied, Odjina well aware of the blow coming
“After all paying is the only way you’d get a girl interested in you…”
“Yeah and….”
“Quiet,” Odjina cut he bickering brothers off
“We need to focus, these streets are dangerous at the best of times…next place is up ahead.
Their last tip from a Bith named Bobo was there was a fellow by the name of Eulk at Yorg’s Tap House and Grill that was selling ‘Dream Dust’, something ‘New and exciting’.
Odjina noted as they round a corner small yellow eyes watching them from between two towers of durasteel that supported a building they would never see the top of or step within.
The eyes watched them pass as he watched back…they blinked once, the only sign of life…as he recalled watching others on Ryloth in the deep caverns walk past, the temptation to burst out with his ‘squeal’ and rob the passe by for credits or food…
Behind these eyes was the same calculation, the same solution, that three hooded figures were too much a risk. All this barely 1 Km from shopping malls, plaza’s and newly refurbished apartments.
“Now who needs to focus…” A’lan whispered tapping his shoulder then pointing at the sign of Yorg’s.
“Look’s like that’s…” his brow furrowed…the Odjina’s…then Jo finally sensed it…disquiet…fear…violence up ahead.
Without a through his sabre was in his hand and he was running.
“Jo!” the voice of both A’lan and Odjian too late to stop Jo rushing in, a trait his son would unhappily inherit.
<<<<>>>>
The bar door swung wide as he barged in, throwing back his hood to view the chaos within.
There were dancing girls at Yorgs…three, two cowering behind an upturned tables, another limp with bloody lekku beside a dancing pole on a raised platform.
An Aqualish with no shirt barged passed Jo as he headed in, there were a half dozen bodies on the floor, other patrons scrambling over the bar to get out via the Kitchen. In the red thrumming light and trashy synth music, atop the far dance platform was a huge bipedal being with fur, humanoid its chest was moving too rapidly for normal breathing as it gripping and tore at an unfortunate rodian.
The snap-hiss of his blue blade mingled to create a pruple shroud about Jo
“Drop him!”
Poor choice of words, the creature flung the Rodian into the wall with a bone breaking crash.
It was not a Wookie, but Jo couldn’t pick the species off the top of his head…it was academic…all that mattered was avoiding its charge.
He skidded out of the bluster, but its clawed hands still caught his robe, he swung down his blade, but its speed was incredible, renching him toward it and slashing at his face, one bladed digit connecting along his forehead.
Red warm blood trickled down his face as he wave his sabre to try and deter the beast, but it didn’t care dodging Jo’s Ataru defensive patter to crash tackle him. Like a razor ball player he was caught up and rammed to the fence – or in this case a table that cracked but didn’t break.
Somehow he had lost his grip on his sabre, he bashed at the creature back with his fists as it reared up, its eyes mad and unfocused, Jo rolled to the side as it tore down, missing what would’ve been a skull shattering blow.
He sought his sabre in the force and called it to him, having to duck another blow as he did so, letting himself fall completely to his knees to try and take its legs.
The silver hilt seemed to take an age to travel the few metres…too long as a furred hoof slammed into his side sending him reeling over. The Sabre clattered just out of reach, he stretched his fingers forward, but the pain of the blows was stifling his ability to concentrate on pulling the sabre telekinetically…
A high pitched whistle erupted and the creature turned.
Odjina immediately recognised the Lasat species – extremely strong and fast compared to humans and Twi’lek’s, and hyped up on drugs as its frothing mouth indicated, more than a match for a Mak’tor only recently knighted and lacking much actual combat experience.
A’lan’s ‘whistle’ attracted is attention fully as Odjina circled, its Spice maddened senses seemed heightened as it looked between the two of them, all other patrons and staff long gone, the two dancing girls having pushed past A’lan – much to his disappointment at losing a chance to play the hero to his brother.
It’s mad eyes darted between the two new threats trying to work out which was more dangerous as the room emptied of all sound but the ragged breathing and hum of the sabre’s.
By irrational logic it pounced toward A’Lan the source of the Force enhanced whistle, giving Odjina the chance to race ahead.
As if in slow motion the furious and fast skirmish reached its climax, A’lan ducked beneath a solid if slow guard with his blade, Odjina pirouetted into a cut through the creatures right thigh, and Jo struggled up enough to hurl a glass bottle at the Lasat’s head.
The claws came down straight onto the sabre – the Lasat so inebriated it not longer understood the glowing blue blade was a threat to avoid. Muscle and blood cauterized in yellow hissing vapour as Odjina’s blade cut through, and the bottle smashed a gluggy brown liquor down the back of its head and into its fur.
Stumbling with the loss of a leg and retching back in pain from severing its own hand, it flopped heavily onto A’lan who managed just to get out of its path, and Jo, not learning his lesson ran forward to tackle the Lasat to the ground, bloody fury in his eyes – half from it having struck toward his brother, half from wounded pride.
On the ground grasped the still flailing limbs round to try and pin the creature, but it thrashed wildly until Odjina rounded and curb stomped its head down to the grubby floor.
<<<<>>>>
“Frag that stings…” Jo complained as A’lan patched his forehead cut with a bacta strip. They were just waiting for the CSF now…given the low level it would be a while before they arrived, giving time for Odjina to look around following strongly tying the Lasat to a broken table with some omni-tape found in the kitchen, a gentle hum on A’lan’s lips to keep it unconscious.
Amidst the blood were the glitter flecks of spice on the Lasat’s fur, Odjina followed the trail to a corner booth, the table upturned and a splatter of the spice on the floor.
Kneeling he took up the red grains in his fingers and briefly sniffed it. It smelt like Spice…yet…it had a strange
Feel to it in the Force…something…
unnatural…it was subtle…very subtle as if…
Experimental. a force user with ls subtlety in their senses – such as Kimar – would not have sensed it…
Another shift in the river he thought.
“cch...phhmmm” Odjina leapt at the sound, a stifled sneeze and expanded his senses, focusing on the source as A’lan and Jo Leapt up.
With quick Mak’tor battle-cant finger signals they crept round the cushioned wall seats to where a series were under a broken table top.
Positioined ready, Odjina in the lead, A’lan on the flank and Jo holding the rear, Odjina hurled the boken plascrete table off with the Force
“Not Hurt, not hurt, it dead yes!!!”
Curled up under the table was…actually Odjina wasn’t sure
“You’re safe now,” Odjina said offering a hand to the frightened sentient
It stood up slightly taller but much thinner than Odjina, with long stinkin black dreadlocks over a patchy pink and green face, and an outfit that was either once yellow, or had been dyed in a yellow fluid that Odjina did not wish to investigate the source of.
“Than you massa, thank you, Eulk be off now!”
A’lan put a hand on his shoulder
“Whoa hold on, Jo get him some water, we need to ask some questions first,”
“Eulk not know, not see, all good, forget forget forget,” ‘Eulk’ slapped his own head,
“See gone, not know a thing, not tell anyone about laser swords,”
The deluded Eulk likely though this was some kind of gang war, had probably never seen a Jedi beyond holo-vids, and wanted to assure the gangs involved he wouldn’t tattle.
“Eulk, is that right? We just want to know was it the spice that set the Lasat off?” Odjina asked more soothingly
“Maybe he have bad snip…” Eulk offered uncertainly…
“Bad snips going round…make people Goooboo…”
If ‘Snip’ was spice it was probably the best confirmation they would get until forensics would get to work.
“Alright, thank you Eulk…” Odjina went on noting his jittering half dance of anxiety
“..hey whats that…” A’lan pointed to a pocket on Eulks outfit lined with red glitter spice.
“Oh…mess mess mess…” Eulk brushed it off…but more seemed to come out.
“errghhh….”
Jo stepped forward firmly grasping at Eulk who shuddered and thrusting his hand into the pocket, pulling out a handful of plas-bags filled with spice, a few broken, and credit chits in the hundreds
“You were selling this!” Jo seethed.
“No no no no, Eulk doesn’t sell spice, Eulk is broker, introduce buyer to seller and make delivery in person with fee for introduction and postage,”
“You sold the spice…” Odjina said firmly “And you knew it might go bad, saw the signs and hid,”
“Eulk…maybe do that…”
“Eulk…whether you call it selling or not I don’t care, you know this stuff is bad for you and bad for business,” A’lan began well knowing the best way to get people to co-operate was to appeal to heir self interest
“We need to know who you’re brokering for, and stop them selling this variant before a Snip crazed Wookie snaps you in two,”
Behind the dreadlocks it was hard to see Eulk’s patchy face and expressions, but he seemed to be contemplating.
“Perhaps…Eulk broker a meeting…on down low though, no need to say Eulk introduce you to supplier…bu Eulk lose supplier might need compensation…” he rubbed grot ridden fingers
“More compensation that us letting you out of here alive?” Jo snapped
Idiot… Odjina thought, Jo still too aggressive, obviously his experience with the Lasat wasn’t enough to temper that impulse.
“Ignore him,” A’lan went on, comporting himself very well in the situation,
“How about 2000 credits and you show us where to go,”
Odjina was sure Eulk was smilling
“But only after our business is concluded,” Odjina added
“Eulk has little option….”
<<<<>>>>
The CSF station had seen better days, the floors unswept, marked with dents and dried blood, officers rushing to and for, impoverished beings, some with children in the waiting room on broken chairs, many with bruises fleeing Maker knew what.
Jo was off keeping on eye on Eulk, who after the hover-car ride A’lan had insisted he take a shower. Odjina meanwhile was with the stations Forensics expert discussing findings while A’lan did paper work filling in their Jedi Credentials.
The old Nautolon had near grey skin, and a hard dried look as he shuffled flmsi with test results
“This Sample shows no more variation than usual…it is synthetic, with trace methamphetamine, but apart from that nothing to explain the effects on a Lasat who is…or rather was…a healthy specimen.”
His glassy eyes squinted in condemnation, of what Odjina was uncertain.
“He ingested only 24 grams, considering his weight, metabolism and time since ingestion…my conclusion is the spice was not the cause of his manic episode,”
Odjina straightened startled
“The Spice didn’t cause it?”
“On all the scientific evidence from this single sample, it was a contributing factor, but not the essential cause,”
Odjina thought back to the trace Force taint on the spice.
“Thank you…we’ll take a sample back to the temple for further tests,”
The Nautolon huffed
“You won’t find anything different!” his indignation showing
“I know…but this investigation won’t be chemical,”
<<<<>>>>