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Author Topic: Brothers  (Read 60679 times)
TheDrunkenConsular
Knight Ensign
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Force Alignment: 44
Posts: 166


Light Side


« Reply #150 on: April 14, 2018, 06:10:09 PM »

Not dead, new chapter Coming Soon™️
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Who says red is only for the bad guys?

Karmack
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Light side points please.


« Reply #151 on: April 15, 2018, 12:14:01 AM »

I hear you.  Right there with you, my friend.  :-)
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signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

TheDutchman
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Force Alignment: 1106
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« Reply #152 on: April 15, 2018, 01:55:27 PM »

No problem TDC!  At your leisure, my friend  Smiley

But it's good to know that you're OK  Wink
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Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

My sabers:Zearic's Aldrnari, Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, AS; Zearic's shoto, Apprentice v4 w/Obsidian, AS; Graflex SE w/Obsidian, GB; Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, CG; Dark Sentinel v4 w/Obsidian, BR; Sentinel LE v4 w/Obsidian, GB; Initiate v5 w/Obsidian, AS; Sentinel LE v4 stunt, EG; Aeon LE v4 stunt, FO; Dominix v4 stunt, BR; Aeon v3 stunt, SY

Taegin Roan
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 2066
Posts: 6245


Lord of the Force


« Reply #153 on: April 16, 2018, 07:12:16 PM »

Yes. No worries friend. I know that in my own life, I have been too busy of late to get too much writing in, but I do what I can, when I can.
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"I am the Outcast's Shadow" - Taegin Roan
"Confronting fear is the Destiny of a Jedi" - Luke Skywalker
"So this is how liberty dies: with thunderous applause." - Padmé Amidala

TheDrunkenConsular
Knight Ensign
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Force Alignment: 44
Posts: 166


Light Side


« Reply #154 on: June 14, 2018, 09:42:44 PM »

CHAPTER 21: Cloudy Skies

     The facility was washed in red light as an alarm blared softly.  Suddenly, the alarm stopped, and the facility fell silent.  The giant man in his steel mask stood silently beside his slender comrade and waited, pouring his malice into the air.  After a moment passed, there was a small cry of desperation, and the sound of boots on a blood-soaked floor as the prey fled.  Nadia couldn’t see the dark smile spreading across Rakham’s face, but she knew it was there.



    The thought most prevalent in Anto Gimm’s mind as he ran through the halls was simply How?.  How did the Templars find this facility?  How had only four of them overcome their security so easily?  How was he going to get out of here?
     Unfortunately for him, he would only ever know the answer to the last question, and the answer was that he never would.  As he ran, Anto made the mistake of looking over his shoulder.  He only caught a glimpse of his pursuers before his feet caught on the corpse of one of his comrades and he tumbled to the ground, sliding through a pool of blood and landing on his back.  The Templars were on him within a second.
      “Please-” he gasped, but before he could speak the one wearing the Mask placed a hand on his head, and with overwhelming power scoured Anto’s brain.  He was looking for anything about prisoners of war, and savagely racked Anto mind until he was satisfied.  He released his hold on the smaller man and spun the blue saber in his hand.  The Revenant foot soldier didn’t have time to cry out before the blade came down.



     “Dala.  Dala!”  Tasrii rasped, shaking her old friend by the shoulder as she tried to use Force healing to stem the flow of blood from the lacerations across the Twi’lek’s abdomen.  “You can’t go to sleep, Dala.  Stay with me, we’re too close to give up.”
      Dala’s eyes flew open, and she gasped for air.  She placed her hand over Tasrii’s and added her meager energy to the effort.  Slowly, the wounds began to close.
     “We’re going to make it.”  Tasrii said, and Dala responded with a weak smile.  For a week and a half they’d been held in this tiny, dark cell, and they only left it when the Revenant dragged them to a torture room for daily interrogation.  That’s where they’d spent the last two hours, and Dala had gotten the worst of it today. She always got the worst of it, but they were close.  The Revenant had put up a suppression field to dampen their Force abilities, but they were managing to fight through it.
     “Tas, I don’t have much time left.” Dala said, struggling to form the words.
     “Then we move today.  I’m ready.  We can do it.”  Tas replied, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to put strength in her words.  “When they come to take us, that’s when we do it.”



     D’Aylanna, Nadia and Faradi were all standing around a holoprojector displaying a star map aboard the Fugitive.  They all still bore the sweat, blood and soot of their raid on the Revenant hideout.  Rakham sat in the corner of the room, an unlit pipe clenched between his teeth and a bandage over his still sightless eyes.
     “There’s only one place left that we haven’t hit.  Rylus IX.”  D’Aylanna said, tapping their current location on the star map.  The blue marker signifying a Revenant base turned red.  There was now a long trail of red markers across the map, and only one blue. 
     “Has there been progress made on the interrogation, Faradi?”  Nadia asked, referring to the Revenant Wraith D’Aylanna had captured.
     “I apologize, master, but I’m afraid not.  It takes time to break into the mind of a Force lord.  I would say that the subject requires another week in the deprivation tank, at least.  Then the unpleasantness may begin and information will be extracted.”
     “We understand that what you do takes time, Faradi, and we appreciate your efforts.”  Nadia replied, rubbing her temples.  “Let’s get to Rylus IX and get this done.



     The knock on the door came at it’s usual time.
     “Prisoners!  Stand back!”  One of the Revenant guards who would be escorting them to the torture room barked.  Tasrii helped Dala to her feet and the pair complied.  Tasrii closed her eyes and leaned against the back wall of the dark, cramped cell, and drew upon the very last of her energy and will.  She felt her skin begin to buzz as she overcame the Revenant Force suppression, and a fiery heat swelled in her chest and spread to her fingertips. 
     The doors slid open with a hiss, and her fiery eyes flew open. As usual, there were three guards.  Two the doorway holding electroshackles, one standing by the control panel.  Tasrii sprang into action.
     First, she reached out with the Force and grabbed the first guard, meaning to snatch him to the floor, but overdoing it and sending him tumbling into the cell at the same time she leapt out of it, slamming an open palm into the second guard’s chest with a brutal Force push, slamming him into the far wall.  Immediately, the final guard punched the control panel, triggering the emergency lock and closing Dala in with the first guard.  Not wasting her momentum, Tasrii clasped her two fists together and slammed them into the back of the last guard’s head, causing him to smack his forehead against the wall.  She turned to the second guard, who appeared to be either unconscious or dead, and grabbed the lightsaber from his belt.  Just to be sure, she pointed it at his chest and tapped the activation button, burning a hole through his heart before spinning and bringing to saber to her preferred low guard to deal with the last Revenant.  To her surprise, the man was lying on the floor with his neck twisted at a hard angle.
       Must have hit him harder than I thought. She thought as she moved to open the cell door and kill the last guard.  When the doors opened, however, Dala was standing over the bisected body of the Revenant guard, his lightsaber hilt in her hand. 
     “I’m alright.”  Dala croaked, and opened her mouth to speak again before an alarm began to blare.  Tasrii began to curse, before a familiar female voice came over the loudspeakers.
     “Revenant scum,” the thickly accented voice began. “We have come to recover the Templar prisoners you hold.  Your leaders are dead.  Your facility is under our control.  If you attempt to resist us, you will be met with indiscriminate brutality.  We have already captured your barracks, your armory and your hangar.  You will not escape us.  You will not defeat us.”
     With a click, the transmission ended, and the alarms did not resume.
     “That was Nadia!”  Tasrii exclaimed hoarsely.  They could both feel the Force suppression fading, and with it’s its fading away came a feeling of chaos in the Force as the Revenant scrambled for control of the situation.
        Even as the suppression faded, Tasrii began to lose her grip on the energy that had empowered her, and she stumbled.
       “We have to find Sahka and and Stikes!”  Dala said, and with a nod from Tasrii, the two leaned against one another for support as stumbled through the abandoned halls.



       D’Aylanna moved like water as she cut through the Revenant attacking them.  It was a stark contrast to the jerky, savage, but lightning fast movements of Faradi, his silvery horned helmet turned a demonic poison green by the glow of his lightsaber.  D’Aylanna was one of the most dangerous women in the galaxy, but the motions she had trained for so long to carry out seemed somehow easier and faster than ever before, and she suspected that it had to do with the artifact Rakham was wearing, a dark steel and crimson mask.  Even now she could feel it’s power as he fought at the other end of the facility.  It was a warm feeling, that she could tell would have inspired ferocious loyalty in a weaker-willed individual.  It seemed to make you want to impress it’s wearer, and then provide you with the tools you needed to do so. 
        Brough quickly back to the present by a charging Revenant, she sidestepped his great downward cleave and brought her saber across his back, just as Faradi spun his green blade into the man’s neck.  He fell to the floor in three pieces with a series of grisly thuds.  The hallway they were standing in was strewn with bodies, and there were only three living souls left among them.  Standing before D’Aylanna and Faradi was a terrified looking young woman with a single ring tattooed over her eye and a lightsaber clutched in her shaking, white-knuckled hands.
       “Drop the weapon.”  Faradi commanded.  Surprisingly, the Revenant girl did so, and raised her hands slowly.  Faradi marched forward.
        “We’ve seen your records.  We know you have our people here.  Where are the prisoners?”
         “The ward is on the seventh floor down!  Please, don’t kill me!”  She replied quickly, her voice cracking.  In response, Faradi thrust his green blade into her stomach and pulled her tightly against him, putting his head next to hers.
          “This is for Choh’leni, Revenant whore!”  He hissed in her ear, and let her body drop, a final expression of shock and fear etched on her face.  D’Aylanna grimaced as he stepped over her and marched to the turbolift dowl the hall.  Just as he reached for the keypad, the door hissed open, and another batch of Revenant charged out, throwing the two back into combat.



      “Indiscriminate brutality?”  I rather like that.”  Rakham said as he walked into the turbolift with his old friend. 
      “I thought it would be nice to add a little flavor.  It seems as though it worked.”  Nadia replied.
       “You can almost taste the panic in the air, but it won’t take them long to figure out that you were making up all that about capturing this place.”
       “True enough,” Nadia said as she pushed a button on the lift that would take to the seventh floor, “They should be able to fix the pizdec we made of their communications system any second.”
        “With any luck, we’ll be out of here before that happens.”  As he spoke, the doors of the lift slid open, and they stepped out.
       “Pizdec.”  Nadia repeated flatly, and activated her lightsaber.  There were at least two dozen of the Revenant’s self repairing droids marching down the hallway, their backs to the lift.  Rakham drew and activated both of his lightsabers, and the droids were already spinning around to unleash a storm of fire.  The red, green and blue blades were spun into walls of light as the pair advanced on the black droids, sending the cascade of red bolts into the floor, the walls, the ceiling and back to their source, knocking an impressive portion of them to the floor.  They met the rest of them with fury, moving through their ranks like a scythe through wheat until they came out on the other side of the column.  Already, the first droids they had “killed" were beginning to stand and fire again.  Nadia cursed again and pulled a thermal detonator from her pocket.  She flipped the switch and tossed it into the writhing pile of droids before sprinting off into the first cell block, with Rakham close behind.  Just as they passed through the door, there was a deafening Boom!, and several chunks of twisted metal sailed through the door behind them and clattered against the wall, but neither of them noticed.  Before them, bloody and battered but alive, stood their lost comrades.



     D’Aylanna’s communicator began buzzing halfway through their fight for the turbolift, but these Revenant were a hardier bunch, and demanded her full attention.  Finally the last one had fallen, and she was able to key up the device.
       “Rakham?”
       “You were starting to worry me for a minute there, Marquessa.”
       “Ah, it was nothing we couldn't handle.  What’s the situation?”
       “We’ve got them.  Head back to the hangar, and watch out for these damn droids.”
     A wave of relief washed over D’Aylanna, and she relayed the news to Faradi and they turned away from the turbolift.  In the two short weeks since their friends were captured it felt like an eternity had passed. 

       It was a only a short walk back to the hangar where they’d left the Fugitive, but their progress was interrupted by a quickly marching column of Revenant and their droids.  They heard them before they saw them, and shrank into a conveniently located supply closet.  They marched past towards the hangar, hundreds of them.  D’Aylanna keyed up her communicator again and whispered into it.
       “Rakham, we have a problem.  The Revenant are gathering in the hangar.”
        “Alright.  I’ll make the call.” 



       Two hundred Revenant Battle Droids stood in the hangar, and fifty Revenant were with them.  In front Annora stood, tapping her feet impatiently until finally the eight figures they were waiting on walked through the bay doors.  Rakham Crescentfall walked in front, cradling his wife’s limp form in his great arms, and at his sides were his protege Tasrii Kepressa and a Hapan woman who Annora did not recognize.  Behind them, the rest of their party marched with heads held high.  They all stopped after crossing the threshhold, and Rakham shouted.
       “Stand aside or die!”
       Annora laughed, a sweet, clear sound.
       “Are you sure that’s all I can do for you? 
Could I fetch you a glass of water?  Give you a back massage?  Perhaps arrange an escort back to your Archive?  I could be wrong, as no one can be correct one hundred percent of the time, dear, but I don't believe you are in a position to make demands of me!  As a matter of fact, I believe I could make demands of you, should I please to, but I don’t.  That mask you’re wearing is stolen property, and I intend to pry it from your severed head!”  Annorra shouted back, visibly losing her ever-present calm.
       Rakham hung his head low and shook it disappointedly, but did not respond.  Instead, with a noise that sounded like the planet tearing in half, the Narudar appeared outside of the hangar, two gunships immediately jumping out from it’s hangar bay as the ship’s auxiliary blaster cannons began to rake the Revenant forces with fire.  The gunships were upon them in an instant, their beam lasers cutting swaths through the droids before the ships sat down for just long enough to allow their passengers to disembark.  Two squads of Mandalorians with heavy Verpine weaponry began to lay down fire as Sam led a small group of Templars into the fray, clearing a path between the Fugitive and Rakham’s group.  Within a few moments, they were all dashing towards towards the ship, and in a few more, they were docking with the Narudar, and heading home.



       But for two figures, the Archive landing pad was deserted, and a gentle rain fell.  One of the figures wore a dark robe, and glared out from under the hood with a scarred face twisted into a grim look of concentration.  In her hands, a red blade crackled and popped, not humming as much as growling.  Across from her was the tall, dangerous form of Jorya Fah ni’Vih’Torr, a purple shoto in one hand, a blue saber in the other.  The two circled one another slowly, until, in a flurry of motion, Jorya attacked.  Her blue blade caught the red one, but before she could bring the purple one around, the hooded figure tripped over her own poorly placed feet, but instead of crashing to to the floor, she was slowly levitated down.  Jorya deactivated her blades and rushed to kneel at her side.
       “Edda!  Are you okay?”
       “I’m fine!”  Edda replied with a raspy laugh, and drug herself back to her feet.  “Thanks for catching me.”
       “Huh?  I thought you did that?”  Jorya replied with a look of confusion.
        “Are you two certain that it’s wise to spar with live sabers, in the rain, considering that one of you is as much a novice as one can be?”  Heditt Crescentfall spoke from the shadows of the Archive entrance, pulling his hood up as he walked out onto the landing pad.
       “Master Rakham’s orders, sir.”  Edda explained.  “He said that Jorya would not hurt me, and that I could not hurt her even if I wanted to.”
       “I suppose he failed to consider the danger you present to yourself.”  Heditt mused with a warm smile and drew his saber, holding his hilt in a low guard but not activating the blade.  “Edda, when you move, don’t cross one foot over the other, instead bring on foot to meet the other, and repeat.  By keeping both feet flat and near to the ground, you have much better balance, and your strikes will have more power if your feet are planted.”  He demonstrated the motion before putting his lightsaber away.
        “Thank you, Master.”  Edda said, and began to test the movement.  Heditt turned to walk towards his starship, and shouted back over his shoulder.
       “Thank me by remembering, and I’m nobody’s master!”

     A peal of thunder came as Heditt’s ship lifted into the sky, and the clouds that had been a cool but friendly grey began turning angry and black.  Edda and Jorya turned to retreat inside, but before they could make it, the sound of pulse engines running full tilt split the sky, and the Fugitive lanced through the clouds, with the Narudar close behind.  Both ships landed hard, and the Narudar’s ramp was already coming down.  Three stretchers were rushed off, but neither of the women could tell who was on them, though Rakham and Nadia were walking beside them, with Faradi and Sam close behind.  The Fugitive’s ramp descended, and D’Aylanna marched down it, looking tired but optimistic.
       “Mother!”  Jorya called, and ran over, Edda shortly behind.  “What happened?”
       “We found them, but other than Sahka Tekk, they are all badly hurt.  Sahka just seemed… hungry.  They’re trying to get them into bacta tanks.  It looks like they’re going to be okay.”  D’Aylanna replied as they walked towards the Archive entrance.
       “So what’s next?”  Edda asked.
       “Ultimately, that’s up to your council, but Master Stark did manage to find a lead when she was digging around in the Revenant’s computers.” 
       “Do you think we’re going to mount a full scale attack?”  Jorya asked.
       “The only thing I know for sure so far is that Rakham and Nadia want blood, and so do the Mandalorians.  They want to end this war, and they want to end it soon.”

CHAPTER END
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Who says red is only for the bad guys?

Lord_S_Gray
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #155 on: June 15, 2018, 06:26:23 AM »

Summarized as - don't mess with the Templars!
Anyway good to see the next part poor Tasrii was hanging there for a while, alwys more direct to the point action in your writing i tend to waffle a bit!  I have to wonder about Rackhams mask...sound familiar...something to do with the name Revenant...maybe it should be Revan-ant...
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Lord_S_Gray

Surik: "Kreia, what are you—are you a Jedi, a Sith?"
Kreia: "Does it matter? Of course it does, such titles allow you to break the galaxy into light and dark, categorize it. Perhaps I am neither, and I hold both as what they are, pieces of a whole."

Karmack
Forumverse Loremaster
Master of Ceremonies
SaberForum.Com Moderator
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #156 on: June 15, 2018, 01:38:44 PM »

Summarized as - don't mess with the Templars!
Anyway good to see the next part poor Tasrii was hanging there for a while, alwys more direct to the point action in your writing i tend to waffle a bit!  I have to wonder about Rackhams mask...sound familiar...something to do with the name Revenant...maybe it should be Revan-ant...

LOL   I was thinking the same thing, the mask seems very Revan-like...  If it is his mask, I'd be concerned using it.  Makes me think of a quote I heard attributed to Stonewall Jackson once.  He was interviewing J.E.B. Stuart for the role of his cavalry commander and asked Jeb if he used tobacco.  Jeb replied he did not.  Jackson retored, "neither do I.  I find I like it to much."

I hope that Rakham doesn't come to like the mask to much...
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signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

TheDrunkenConsular
Knight Ensign
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Force Alignment: 44
Posts: 166


Light Side


« Reply #157 on: June 15, 2018, 01:50:30 PM »

LOL   I was thinking the same thing, the mask seems very Revan-like...  If it is his mask, I'd be concerned using it.  Makes me think of a quote I heard attributed to Stonewall Jackson once.  He was interviewing J.E.B. Stuart for the role of his cavalry commander and asked Jeb if he used tobacco.  Jeb replied he did not.  Jackson retored, "neither do I.  I find I like it to much."

I hope that Rakham doesn't come to like the mask to much...

The only thing I'll reveal at this point is that it definitely isn't all good.

Also, sorry if this chapter is a bit ragged, guys.  I've had to rewrite it about ten times, and I'm still not happy with it, but I had to break my writer's block.  I believe you'll find the new Burned One chapter a bit more gooder.
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Who says red is only for the bad guys?

Karmack
Forumverse Loremaster
Master of Ceremonies
SaberForum.Com Moderator
Knight Commander
************

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #158 on: June 15, 2018, 02:01:17 PM »

The only thing I'll reveal at this point is that it definitely isn't all good.

Also, sorry if this chapter is a bit ragged, guys.  I've had to rewrite it about ten times, and I'm still not happy with it, but I had to break my writer's block.  I believe you'll find the new Burned One chapter a bit more gooder.

More gooder!  WooT! 

Totally understand about the block.  Sometimes you just have to slog through a spot....
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signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #159 on: June 16, 2018, 01:00:49 AM »

What a FANTASTIC continuation from the last chapter!  NOW we really get to see the Templars answering the Revenant in kind, especially after they stirred up the hornet's nest.  But man what the cost...

Excellent chapter TDC!  VERY glad to see your writing block gone!  And as said: you did good; just keep persevering!  Can't wait to see where this takes Rakham&Co (and guests  Wink) next!
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Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

My sabers:Zearic's Aldrnari, Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, AS; Zearic's shoto, Apprentice v4 w/Obsidian, AS; Graflex SE w/Obsidian, GB; Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, CG; Dark Sentinel v4 w/Obsidian, BR; Sentinel LE v4 w/Obsidian, GB; Initiate v5 w/Obsidian, AS; Sentinel LE v4 stunt, EG; Aeon LE v4 stunt, FO; Dominix v4 stunt, BR; Aeon v3 stunt, SY

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #160 on: June 21, 2018, 02:45:25 AM »

Chapter 22: A Delicate Touch, Part I

“…And she’s been like this since we captured her?”  D’Aylanna tried to keep the exasperation from her voice, mostly succeeding.  Mostly.

In front of her was a large transparisteel tank, transparent from the outside, opaque from the inside.  So while D’Aylanna and her companion could see in, the Revenant Wraith suspended within the waters could see nothing but complete darkness.  Several umbilical cords were connected to her: one obviously a breathing tube leading to her mouth, others running to the prisoner’s ears, fingers, toes, groin, and neck while restraints were tethered to her wrists and ankles.  Turning to face the slender Twi’lek male—the only other occupant in the room besides the prisoner—D’Aylanna’s face was impassive despite her unspoken doubt.

“Yes.  And no.”  Faradi’s lips spread in a smile showing several gold teeth, a stark contrast from his green skin.  “One must first…condition the subject prior to questioning so as to avoid as much wasted time as possible...”  Deliberately, he pulled out a bag made of soft syncloth from one of the pouches on his belt, opening it to show D’Aylanna the contents.  As she peered inside, she saw several severed fingers.  She merely looked intently into the Twi’lek’s yellow eyes as he continued speaking.  “…Whilst intermittently establishing a pattern, one that the subject comes to anticipate with great consternation.”  Motioning to the bag, Faradi invited D’Aylanna to scrutinize the contents.  Looking again, this time closer, she noticed something peculiar about the fingers.

“Those look to be the exactly the same.”  Her voice held a hint of curiosity, the grisly contents not bothering D’Aylanna in the least.  Nor apparently, Faradi.  His hard face looked to be forged from durasteel.  Only the crosshatching of various (and numerous) scars belied the impression…or perhaps more precisely reinforced it.

“You are correct, Vih’Torr.”  He purposely grabbed one of the fingers, holding it up for inspection.  “These are the exact same digit, belonging to the subject.  From the first, I witnessed the subject’s ability to rejuvenate tissues.  As you have no doubt deduced by now, these are the same finger.”  The gleam in his eye was not a reflection of the light. 

“…Would that not give the Wrai…the subject confidence?”  Her blue lips twisted in thought.

Faradi looked past the severed finger he held and into D’Aylanna’s eyes.  “No.  Contrary to expectations, the subject has already been conditioned to expect for me to excise the digit.  Anticipation can be a valuable tool…”  The Twi’lek’s voice trailed off as his attention turned to the pale female humanoid in the deprivation tank as she suddenly convulsed, her back contorting in a painful arch, her fingers involuntarily balling into fists while her toes pointed painfully as her muscles cramped up.  “…right on time…”  Faradi allowed himself a small smile as he noticed D’Aylanna’s inquisitive face, her head slightly cocked to the side.  “While the subject is immersed, they are regularly administered with an excruciating shock.  This—” 

“—Prevents them from entering into Force Hibernation.”  D’Aylanna finished, nodding her head in understanding.  “Or allow them to utilize any Force Healing, I’ll wager.  Brilliant.”  D’Aylanna looked again from the Wraith and back to the Twi’lek, impressed.  “Master Faradi.”  She smiled admiringly.

Lady Vih’Torr.”  Faradi inclined his head, his own smile widening, seemingly incongruous on his hard face.  Turning his attention back to the Wraith, he took a step closer to D’Aylanna.  Even though he was only of average height, he still towered over the Hapan woman.  “It’s about time for the subject’s next excision, proceeding the next stage of the ‘program.’”  Rummaging in one of the pouches on his belt, Faradi held up a datapad, keying the display with his thumb.  “Would you like to stay for the next phase, Lady Vih’Torr?”  Faradi’s face had turned completely objective, a professional about his business.  Again, his scars seemed to exemplify the seriousness of his…work.

D’Aylanna arched an eyebrow.  “May I ask what that is, Master Faradi?”

The Twi’lek’s yellow eyes focused upon the datapad, looking from it to the prisoner and back to D’Aylanna.  “Do you see the umbilicals leading to the subject’s ears?  I have surgically grafted them onto the auditory nerves of the subject.  This…”  He subtly hefted the small, innocuous datapad in his hand.  “…produces an unaltered recording of a corvaj’s death roar.  Looped.”  He touched the datapad with his thumb.  Almost instantaneously, the Wraith tried to grab at her ears, her arms stopping short from the restraints as she convulsed back and forth within the depravation tank.  Had her breathing tube not been secured on her face, her screams would have thrust it from her mouth.  Her unseeing eyes widened almost comically as the prisoner’s face registered both pain and dread.  Seeing this, D’Aylanna looked enquiringly from the Wraith to Faradi.

“…What is she hearing?”  D’Aylanna had experienced many things but she was at a loss as to whatever that sound could be.  Looking intently at the small Hapan woman, Faradi briefly keyed the datapad.  From every corner of the cell, a…noise unlike anything D’Aylanna had ever heard assaulted her senses.

The chilling sound pervaded the room, a shrill, teeth-clenching noise that set D’Aylanna’s nerves on edge whilst simultaneously feeling like a thorn was drilling straight into her forehead while her eyeballs threatened to explode from their sockets.  And that was describing it mildly, she thought.  Even pressing her hands tightly against her ears did nothing to lessen the mind-numbing pain, to say nothing of the discomfort and anxiety that coursed through her.

And just as suddenly as it had begun it stopped, making the abrupt silence seem all the more deafening.

“…By the Maker…” D’Aylanna exclaimed, only now realizing that she was holding onto the edge of one of the utilitarian tables within the cell.  And while she tried to collect herself, her mind registered various minutiae around the room: the table had several nylasteel straps bolted to it; there were several drains strategically placed around the room, all corresponding with the foot of the tables themselves; and behind Faradi was a repulsor-tray half-covered by a thick black towel, various clinical instruments arranged succinctly that she could see from the uncovered half.  With a final shake of her head, her mind once again felt lucid.  “…And you say that that…sound came from a…corvaj?”  She unnecessarily smoothed her burgundy and silver skirts.  She’d heard of the animal but only that it hunted in the jungle wild…

Faradi smiled knowingly.  “Looped.  That was at 30% volume.  The subject’s current setting is at 57% and slowly rising.  Within the hour it will peak at 82-83% but not more, not this time.  Then the volume shall return to under 12%...and cycle back up irregularly.  You see, a corvaj’s roar also operates just below the hearing threshold of most sentients…so not only is the subject hearing it but they are also experiencing the subvocals…”  He picked up one of the tools on the repulsor-tray, inspecting it.  It had several small, wicked barbs running the entire length of the 25 centimeter shaft.  Faradi ran a calloused thumb along the point of one of the barbs.  D’Aylanna noticed two things: that when his finger came away from the barb, a bead of blood had already begun to pool and that Faradi hadn’t even so much as flinched.

“13.4 hours.”  The Twi’lek’s voice was monotone, his gaze once again focused upon the prisoner.  He was absently wiping vicious edged implement with the towel.

“…Sorry?”  D’Aylanna asked, Faradi’s statement bringing her back to the present.  She ran a small, delicate hand through her midnight-blue hair.  The Twi’lek’s eyes were all that moved as his attention shifted from the Wraith back to D’Aylanna.

“The longest I’ve ever seen anyone continuously listen to the corvaj’s death roar is 13.4 hours…tough, little bastard he was…”  For a moment, Faradi’s eyes were lost in a past memory, but it was fleeting.  When next his gaze locked onto D’Aylanna, his yellow eyes were predatory.  “Unfortunately, he was reduced to a gibbering simpleton, completely brainbolted.  That’s when I learned to stagger both the volume and duration.  Now…I can use this indefinitely.  Well, at least for this phase.  And if the subject is particularly obstinate…well, let’s just say that I’ve many more phases inherent to the ‘program.’”  This time, his smile went wide enough to distend one of the most savage and conspicuous scars running from his jaw and up the side of his head, ending past his lekku.

“Then don’t let me distract you further, Master Faradi.”  D’Aylanna gave a polished curtsy before turning from the room.  The last sight she saw was the…subject writhing in pain while Faradi held a fiendish-looking bladed tool, the likes of which reminded her of an evil pair of shears…

            <<<<< >>>>>

“How’re the eyes?”  Heditt ran his cybernetic hand through his long brown beard, careless of the tangled hair.  In his other hand was his lightsaber hilt, his fingers fidgeting over it as if needing to ignite the weapon.  However, his attention was completely on his brother, the tall man standing in front of a holoprojection mirroring himself.

“…Better…now I can see complete shapes.  Big ones and small ones…just not distinctly.”  His voice was carefree, almost glib.  But when he turned to face his brother, Rakham’s face turned sour.  “Kriffing hell…”  He wanted to rub at his eyes, clear away the blurred vision.  His frustration must have shown as his brother suddenly approached him.

“Rakham…why don’t you have another go in Kadmaur’s chamber?  I know…OK, I’m guessing that he’s got something in there akin to a bacta-couch.  Or we could always take your pretty friend up on her offer…”  He put a commiserating hand on the taller man’s shoulder.  Rakham placed a big hand on Heditt’s, a small smile on his face.

“Doesn’t work that way…now, I’ve just got to ‘hurry up and wait.’  My eyesight will return fully, I’ve just got to be patient…”  He barked a laugh at that.  “And you know just how much of that particular virtue I’ve got…”  Slowly he sighed, his eyes moving back and forth of their own accord.  Heditt bowed his head, slowly exhaling himself.

“…How’s Dala?”  He said quietly, looking up from under his brow.  Again, his fingers moved as if by their own mind, searching, striving to ignite his lightsaber.

Rakham’s face subtly changed.  It wasn’t much nor was it obvious but to Heditt it was a blinking sign of his brother’s pain…and fear.

“…She’ll be alright.  Just needs time.”  Rakham’s face was blank for all of the emotion it showed, his eyes staring at the floor.  Heditt wasn’t fooled in the least.

“Brother…she’ll be better than ‘alright’…she’s strong.  And she’s surrounded by people who will fight for her.  Need her.  Love her.”  Heditt grabbed Rakham’s shoulders.  Rakham looked up, his eyes still cloudy but seemingly able to see.

“…Since when did you become so optimistic?”  Rakham’s lopsided grin helped to alleviate the seriousness of his demeanor.

“When I was proven right about you needing me.”  Heditt’s face didn’t change, a stoic look about him.

“When the hell did that happen?  Last I checked, you came to me.”  Rakham joked.  Heditt almost smiled.  Almost.

“I could tell by the two strays that you had on ‘guard duty’ out in the front of the Archives when I landed.  If you can call it that.”  Heditt gave one of his rare smiles.  “At least they know which end of a lightsaber to grab.  Well, the Togruta does… That Hapan girl…Edda?  Not so much…” Heditt’s hands moved to pantomime a set of balance scales.

“Ah they’re good girls…women, I should say.”  Rakham slowly rubbed his hand through his dark hair, nearly mirroring his brother from earlier.  “Which reminds me: I could use your help with Edda.  Right now there’s no one better to help train her with her saberwork…”  Before Rakham had finished, Heditt was already shaking his head.

“…No…that’s your forte, not mine.”  This time Heditt did smile to take the sting out of his words.  “C’mon Rak…you were the one who taught me Juyo.  What could I possibly do that you can’t do better?”  He turned his outspread hands palms outward, his worn brown robes swaying slightly.

“See, for starters.”  Rakham deadpanned.  He grabbed his brother’s shoulders.  “I mean it Heditt.  Edda has the potential…she just needs the experience…and the attention of a master…”  He suddenly held up a big hand.  “…And don’t tell me some shavit like how you’re not a master; kriff that.  You’re here and I need you.”  His stare was the same unnerving one that had intimidated many an opponent…yet with his brother, it only caused Heditt to cross his arms in contemplation.  “…Tell me you’ll think on it?”  Rakham’s voice was once again light.

For a moment, Heditt was as motionless as if he were frozen in carbonite.  Then, slowly, he nodded his head slightly.  “I promise I’ll think about it.”

With that, Rakham gathered the shorter man, putting his arm around his shoulders.  “Now…there’s a bottle of Agavinol 32 that has our name on it.  Let’s drink to absent friends and honor them in Templar fashion.”

Walking side-by-side with Heditt, both men disappeared down one of the Archives many hallways, Rakham’s voice echoing behind.  “I remember one of the first times that Marz saved my backside: we were gambling at one of the seedier casinos on Canto Bight when I happened to receive the attention of this Mirialan beauty.  And so I asked her if the rumors were true that they were more flexible than humans.  Well, unbeknownst to me, her older brother just happened to hear me and my solution for proving it when I hear Marz’s voice behind me saying that he’s got my back…”
Logged

Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

My sabers:Zearic's Aldrnari, Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, AS; Zearic's shoto, Apprentice v4 w/Obsidian, AS; Graflex SE w/Obsidian, GB; Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, CG; Dark Sentinel v4 w/Obsidian, BR; Sentinel LE v4 w/Obsidian, GB; Initiate v5 w/Obsidian, AS; Sentinel LE v4 stunt, EG; Aeon LE v4 stunt, FO; Dominix v4 stunt, BR; Aeon v3 stunt, SY

TheDutchman
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« Reply #161 on: June 21, 2018, 02:49:58 AM »

Chapter 22: A Delicate Touch, Part II

As D’Aylanna strolled through the halls of the Archive lost in thought, she found herself once again worrying about and missing her Shakal.  As much as he’d tried to hide it, she noticed how he winced whenever he put any substantial weight upon his right leg.  While she had not seen Gaetana—“Mendax” she angrily corrected herself—pull the cargobins down upon her husband, she had seen the extent of damage that the collective weight of the metal containers had caused.  Of course Zearic had obstinately denied being in any such pain but he’d never been able to hide anything from her.  D’Aylanna smiled wistfully, again yearning to be with her Shakal, to hold him, comfort him, speak with him.

“…By Ta’a Chume…you…you’re her!”  A rough almost hoarse voice sounded from in front of D’Aylanna, interrupting her ruminations.  “You’re the Marquesa Il'liyanav!”  Even before she could respond, D’Aylanna focused upon the speaker.

Like D’Aylanna, she was Hapan, gorgeous, lithe, and exotic.  Beautiful with raven-black hair and emerald eyes, her cherubic cheeks were indicative of her youth.  And this close up to her, D’Aylanna saw that she had extensive burn scarring around her neck and lower face that did little to diminish her beauty.  And although she wasn’t particularly tall, she was still taller than D’Aylanna.  All of this went through her mind in an instant, followed by her growing trepidation.  She held up her hands to forestall the young woman from saying anything else.

“Please, please don’t say that name.”  D’Aylanna approached the other Hapan woman…almost a girl.  Even given the gravity of the situation part of D’Aylanna noticed that the young Hapan was of an age with her own daughter, Jorya.  She laid a gentle hand upon the other woman’s shoulder.

“…Of course, Marquesa.  I beg your forgiveness, Illuminated One.”  The Hapan girl made as if to genuflect, bowing at the waist.  More forcefully than she intended, D’Aylanna grabbed her shoulders, stopping her from doing so.

“Please don’t use that title.”  D’Aylanna affixed a soothing smile upon her face, her small hands resting on the girl’s arm.  “You would do me the honor to call me ‘D’Aylanna’ please.  And you are…?”  D’Aylanna’s demeanor was disarming, helping the young Hapan relax although she insisted on lowering her eyes.

“Of course…D’Aylanna.  I am Edda, Edda Veek.”  Tentatively, she looked up, raising her piercing green eyes to stare into D’Aylanna’s dark ones.  “I…I didn’t know that the Queen Mother—may Her Radiance illuminate eternal—had graced this sector of the galaxy with…”  Edda’s voice trailed off seeing D’Aylanna gently shaking her head.

“No, Edda.  Ta’a Chume did not send me… In fact, for all the Queen Mother knows, she believes that I am dead.  And I mean to keep it so.”  D’Aylanna’s gaze was raptorlike and unwavering, her voice quadranium.  “The Marquesa Il'liyanav died many years ago, assassinated at her aunt’s behest.”  Her face softened, her voice just above a whisper.  “I am merely D’Aylanna Vih’Torr of the Vhal’Dan.  And I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Edda Veek.”  Her smile was wide and sincere.

Slowly, Edda’s gaze rose although by the way that the young woman focused on the top of her head, D’Aylanna suspected that she still had difficulty in being so…familiar with her.  She also knew it wasn’t her fault; Hapan society had all but indoctrinated all Consortium citizenry at birth, especially concerning those of House Royal.  But D’Aylanna was nothing if not patient, as anyone who knew Zearic and her training him could attest.  Once again, she smiled longingly…but only momentarily.

“Oh, Mother!  Good, I wanted for you to meet my new friend, Edda.”  Jorya came from around the corner, her own gray robes and skirts less remarkable than D’Aylanna’s own, testament to her junior rank as a newly-minted koawan.  Still, the tall Togruta looked formidable, D’Aylanna had to admit.  …My Shakal has taught her well… She thought, full of pride for both of them.

“…This is your mother?!”  Edda rasped, the burn scars on her throat pulling tight.  The young Hapan woman looked from Jorya, tall, toned musculature, orange-skinned, to D’Aylanna, short, dark, petite yet curvy, and back again.  Both Jorya and D’Aylanna broke into easy laughter.

“Sorry, Edda.  I didn’t even think about it.”  Jorya stood next to her mother, putting her arm around D’Aylanna’s shorter shoulders.  “Obviously she and my father adopted me almost ten years ago.  I can’t tell you how grateful for them that I am.”  She smiled down lovingly at D’Aylanna.

Despite her initial shyness, Edda recovered quickly, soon becoming much more lively as the three women walked along the hallway, discussing Jorya and D’Aylanna’s most recent exploits with Master Karmack and Lady Arnor.  Afterwards, Edda began to tell them about her recent acceptance into the Templars, but before she could get into much detail, D’Aylanna’s comm pinged.

“Excuse me Edda.”  Then, holding up her comm.  “This is D’Aylanna.”

“Lady Vih’Torr.  Would you please rejoin me in the Archive’s Oubliette?”  It was Faradi.  “I’ve taken the liberty of contacting Master Rakham.  He assured me he would be here forthwith…”

            <<<<< >>>>>

“OK Faradi, what did the inked bitch tell you?”  Even now, Rakham’s tone held anger.  Controlled certainly, but anger nevertheless.  Besides the Templar Master, only Heditt, Faradi, and D’Aylanna were present, standing around one of the clinical stainless durasteel tables that had the Wraith strapped down upon.  As with the deprivation tank, the prisoner was completely naked, save for the numerous umbilicals connected to her various extremities.

Mildly, Faradi focused upon the prisoner.  “Repeat what you told me, in exactitude.”  Almost absently, his hand kept hovering over the long, barbed instrument that D’Aylanna had noticed earlier.  So too did the prisoner.  Shuddering, she began to speak, her voice ragged as if from extended screaming.  Which it was.

“…on Taris…there is…abandoned undercity…”  The Wraith started to cough, then closed her eyes while the only sounds were her uneven breathing.

“…Taris is an ecumenopolies; that doesn’t exactly identify specific search parameters.”  Rakham’s voice was hard, contemptible.  “Faradi, put her back in the tank, full volume this time.”  As the Twi’lek moved towards the prisoner, Rakham added almost as an afterthought.  “And show her the ‘special reel’ again if you haven’t already done so.”  As soon as he mentioned that, the Wraith began to sob, screaming her compliance.

“Please!  PLEASE!!  I’m telling you the truth!  The base is there at Taris!  Sector 35874, Substrate Forn!  It’s where the plants grow!  THE PLANTS!!”  Soon the prisoner was repeating the last few sentences like a mantra until individual words became incoherent.  Soon afterward, Faradi affixed a depravation hood on her, stopping all light and sound from passing in or out.

Rakham nodded.  “Good job, Faradi.  I knew that you’d get that tralk to talk.  We’ve got a lot to consider.”  And although he couldn’t see clearly, Rakham looked at both Heditt and D’Aylanna.  “Meet me in the Grand Hall.  We’ve got a strategy to devise.  I’ll meet you both there; I need to get some things from the Vault.”

Rakham left with a contemplative Heditt soon to follow.  But before she left the room, D’Aylanna turned back to Faradi.  “Excuse me, Master Faradi, what is the…subject doing out of the tank?”

Again, the Twi’lek smiled, showing several gold teeth, his green skin pulling his many facial scars tight.  “I believe that there is still information to be mined from this particular source.  And Master Rakham does expect a thorough job…”  He began to clean some tools that had previously been hidden beneath a black towel.  D’Aylanna noticed that the towel was wet but because of the dark color, she was unsure if the substance was water or something else more macabre. 

Before she turned to leave, D’Aylanna put a hand upon the Twi’lek’s forearm.  “Faradi…what did Rakham mean by ‘special reel?’”  Despite the softness of her voice, D’Aylanna’s eyes were as hard as durasteel.

Faradi once again smiled, a vicious upturning of his lips.  “I have a holofeed that is part of the ‘program.’  It is almost always effective, even against the most resilient of subjects.  While you were gone, the subject viewed the ‘feed.”  He began to clean some of the implements on his repulsor-tray.  “It was directly afterwards that I contacted you and Master Rakham.”  D’Aylanna crossed her arms in interest.

“…What does the reel show?”  She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Faradi paused, his rapt eyes gazing intently into hers.  Finally he spoke.  “Would you like to see?”  He asked without malice or humor.  D’Aylanna thought about it long and hard but then slowly shook her head.

“No.”  She turned to follow Rakham but stopped abruptly.  “Thank you Faradi.”  She dipped her chin respectfully before leaving the room, once again leaving the Twi’lek to his thoughts as he continued cleaning his instruments…

Logged

Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

My sabers:Zearic's Aldrnari, Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, AS; Zearic's shoto, Apprentice v4 w/Obsidian, AS; Graflex SE w/Obsidian, GB; Archon v3 (modded w/ activation box) w/Obsidian, CG; Dark Sentinel v4 w/Obsidian, BR; Sentinel LE v4 w/Obsidian, GB; Initiate v5 w/Obsidian, AS; Sentinel LE v4 stunt, EG; Aeon LE v4 stunt, FO; Dominix v4 stunt, BR; Aeon v3 stunt, SY

Lord_S_Gray
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Force Alignment: 428
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« Reply #162 on: June 21, 2018, 04:14:30 AM »

Means and ends...These are some pretty extreme means...but then the Templars aren't rally Jedi are they, more just a para-military group...and the ends...well they might have one end in mind...but what will they look like once its achieved. Taris...resonant with history of Revan(ent...) rapid growth of fingers...Rakhgoul connection maybe?

 And a little hint at D'Alyanna's back story too.   
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Lord_S_Gray

Surik: "Kreia, what are you—are you a Jedi, a Sith?"
Kreia: "Does it matter? Of course it does, such titles allow you to break the galaxy into light and dark, categorize it. Perhaps I am neither, and I hold both as what they are, pieces of a whole."

TheDrunkenConsular
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Force Alignment: 44
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Light Side


« Reply #163 on: June 21, 2018, 02:51:09 PM »

As I've said, absolutely awesome, Dutch!  I'm really tickled at how perfectly you've captured Faradi.
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Karmack
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Light side points please.


« Reply #164 on: June 21, 2018, 03:54:14 PM »

First - That was amazingly done!  Well written and the characters are quite vivid.  The writing is engaging and I loved the interplays, especially around D'Aylanna and her background with Edda.  :-)

As for Faradi...  She's scary.  Very scary.  Rakham's anger and cold application of the threat also shows he is 100% on board with the methods being used.  It would probably not be good for Karmack to get to know these folks to well.  I ... don't think they'd get along well...

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