What You Leave Behind

[Taegin Roan]

Wow. It took me a minute to remember who all the characters were (not Karm, Chillum, or Lo of course, but most the others), but once it started coming back, I realized - even more - how dangerous M'Tzigon is starting to get. It is pretty much coming apart at the seams. Cliff may not "like" the Mak'Tor Jedi, but he at least respected Kage Lo. I am very much liking this more political side of things we are starting to see. Great job Karm (and LSG).

[Karmack]

Thanks Taegin.   Its been a while, but we're starting to inch ahead again with this one.

And you're right, its getting much more interesting on M'Tzigon.   The days of being a sleepy frontier world where things are peaceful and generally prosperous if somewhat backward by Core World standards are almost certainly over.   But at what cost?

Tune in to find out ... what was left behind!   ;-)

[Karmack]

And...   Chapter 28!   Finally!   Thank you, LSG, for the amazing plotting and for setting up the google drive!  :-)

Chapter 28 True colours

Arrivals

The flotilla burst out of hyperspace well above the elliptical plane.  It was a curious choice of entry destination it had to be said, more akin to where a smuggler or raider might emerge, though far closer to the planet than either would have preferred.  With the system so on edge virtually every monitoring system on-line immediately lit up like a S'Kar Tree.  Hornet was already on alert, her fighters on patrol, and Nath forced himself to relax in his command chair and wait out the transmission lag as (hopefully) a message of greeting streaked in-system...
On queue the bridge speakers crackled. “Hornet this is Wilberforce requesting permission to proceed in-system.”
Nath felt his muscles relax slightly but he waited as the force's Indent codes, along with pre-arranged authorization codes, were pulled out of the datastream and decoded.  After a few more seconds of work his comms officer turned and gave him a thumbs up.
Nath keyed his own lapel mic live.  “Wilberforce, this is Hornet Actual: you are cleared to proceed, Wilberforce.  And welcome to M’Tzigon D’Kev.” Nath added recognizing the voice of the flamboyantly attired Besalisk.  He spent an idle moment wondering what outlandish outfit the Son's front man would be wearing this time as the Jokers formed up to escort the Sons of Kessel in-system.  Not that they really need it... Nath mused, studying the data codes on the tactical display.  Inside the loose globe of ARC-170 fighters were several transports, flanked by three Raider 2 class corvettes and several fighters.  I'll bet Cliff wishes he could lay hands on that kind of firepower.  I know I do!

<<<<>>>>

Karmack stood watching from the ground in the main port, where the formal greeting party was gathered.  With effort he suppressed a grimace as a pair of TIE Defenders, emblazoned with the clenched fist breaking a linked chain of the Sons of Kessel, screeched overhead.  They were escorted by the Joker's ARC-170's, the contrast of old and new striking.  While he fully understood why the Sons would want to have and use those fighters Karmack couldn't shake the feeling that flaunting them this way was in bad taste considering the battle that had just been fought. 

It was hard not to take offense at the sight of front-line Imperial technology being waggled under their noses...  And where in the HELL does a group like the Sons get TIE Defenders in the first place?
But even as he asked the question, he knew the answer: Aertemis Industries.  But where did they get them from?  Did they make them? Steal them? Conjure them up with some Dark Magic?  Karmack didn't know ... and not knowing made him even more uneasy about this arrangement.  What ELSE have they been given?

<<<<>>>>

B’lain was less concerned with the TIEs as he escorted the cargo hauler to the still battle strewn spaceport than he was by the freighter itself - and what might be on it.
The ship was roughly triangular shaped, typical of both Chiss and the Empire's capital ship construction, but with the smooth lines of a Mon-Cal or Kuati drives built ship.  His unease, however, stemmed not from the incongruent design, but because the last time he had seen ships like this was on a frustratingly under-explained mission in which Jan and her marines had found a Corvette full of headless corpses.
How do you fight someone who can make your head just ... disappear? Nath had asked at the time, and it was perhaps the first time B’Lain had truly worried about supporting the Sons ... or rather ...  worried about who else was supporting the Sons and to what lengths they were willing to go.
Out of irrational fear he let off the stick to scratch at his neck, worried a split may have appeared...  OK, get a grip B'Lain...

<<<<>>>>

B'Lain's discomfort was sensed by Karmack as the odd-looking freighter landed, casting its shadow over him beneath its vast hull.  He watched as an honor-guard of Marines deployed from one of the Hornet's shuttles, forming around the nose of the freighter.  Karmack could just make out his cousin El'ynn'Mack among them, resplendent in her dress whites next to the gray-on-green Marines. Curious... Perhaps Nath wanted an extra Force sensitive backing up Jan to look in on this meeting...  ...but then the whole thing is curious!  M’tzigon has more than enough engineers and construction workers to help with the recovery!  Never mind that the Order should rebuild its own holy sites!  Bringing in these former slaves to help seemed like unnecessary and potentially damaging charity if not down-right interference!  Karmack again pushed his building anger and uneasiness down as at the head of the formal delegation Ju’Lus, as Acting Kage, stood beside General Cliff and the group readied itself to welcome the Sons leadership.

Karmack's eyes lingered for a moment on the back of Cliff's head, and he was tempted to pry into Cliffs thoughts to determine what price he had paid to Artemis industries this time.  Karmack’s mind was recovered even if his body was still sore and the Ancient One pulsed with power, ready to grant him the strength to breach the General’s obstinate mind.  It would be so easy ... but no.  With difficulty he suppressed the urge, unaware that he had come within a breath of doing what would have been unthinkable to him even days ago...

<<<<>>>>

The odd, angular, triangle-shaped ship lowered a platform as the Marines snapped to attention.
A gaggle of beings was on the loading platform, most prominently a Besalisk in an over-the-top bright yellow and purple shimmersilk outfit.  Er’Lav’Racc looked downright drab standing beside him in tactical utilities, as did the Togruta opposite her.  Despite his simple utility uniform however, the Togruta emminated an air of authority that was unmistakable: this was the leader of the Sons of Kessel, the one called Scrubber.
Scrubber stepped forward to greet the General who proffered his hand.  “Welcome to M’tzigon, General Scrubber.”
“General!” he smiled “I’ve been called many things but not a General! First among equals perhaps but no general in this band of brothers, but thank you all the same,” the Togruta replied with a smile and firm hand shake. Cliff noticing with approval the still calloused hands: this was a leader who still lead from the front.
Cliff turned toward the robed figure next to him.  "Scrubber, may I present acting Kage of the Mak’Tor Knights Ju’Lus.”
The introductions proceeded as Cliff and Scrubber presented their respective delegations.  Of the Sons, the member of most note was the flamboyant Besalisk D’Kev who flourished all four arms in an elaborate bow.
As Karmack shook hands or the equivalent as appropriate for the half dozen different species, he noted one absence: Scrubber’s notorious bodyguard 'Black Armour' was nowhere to be seen.  Perhaps they at least had the decency not to bring him along to add insult to injury...
As the receiving line ended he released the breath he had not realised he was holding.  Karmack relaxed slightly as the groups intermingled and they chatted amicably.  Karmack remained on the fringes, his attention drawn to where more of the Sons' workers debarked from the transport, descending the ramp to the tarmac.  All wore simple-looking but well-made workmen’s utilities with Artemis industries insignia - a three pointed star - carefully embroidered on the shoulders and chest.  Interestingly their names were also embroidered into the fabric immediately below the Artemis icon - a lot of effort for 'simple' work clothes.
Karmack refocused his attention back to the conversation happening in front of him.  “…we are after all…”  Scrubber was saying to Cliff and Ju’Lus while Erl’av stood to the side between them, as if attempting to bridge the two parties together.  “…friends more than allies.  We could not stand by and do nothing when you are in need, and I tell you, you won’t find more dedicated or harder workers!  Many owe their freedom to the assistance of Ken and Jorya, or to the crew of the Hornet and they have not forgotten.”
“We appreciate you support Scrubber,” Ju’Lus replied, “And for being able to spare Er’Lav for a few days.” 
Karmack stepped forward at the break in conversation,  “Scrubber, I notice your workers have Aertemis industries symbols on their utilities.  Are they employees?”
“Hmm, oh yes, Aertemis industries is another of our good friends – they have a special program for former slaves, they are given retraining and formal qualifications in engineering and construction with a guaranteed job thereafter.”
Karmack’s eyes narrowed as he thought thorough that.  It sounded generous at first glance but...  “They are indentured to Aertemis industries after the training?”
Scrubber bit back replying with visible effort to the highly offensive connotations the word 'indentured' could imply for a former slave, and Ju'Lus and Er'Lav exchanged a glance at the emotional spike registered with them.  To his credit Scrubber rallied quickly and his voice retained its friendliness and mirth when he spoke.
“They are offered a three year contract, well paid, with excellent work and living conditions.  Their qualifications are fully accredited and are recognised across the ... well, across the  former Empire.  They could work in any firm or guild from the Core to the Outer Rim, but given the political situation and a desire to remain with their comrades no one has refused the offer that I know of.  Indeed many of the first few participants are now teachers and senior managers in Aertemis industries.”
Karmack sensed Scrubber believed all he was saying, and was slightly offended to have Aertemis Industries implicitly slandered.  There was a pulsing defensiveness there ... a thread ... not a tune or motif, but a humming, ringing connection.  Karmack nodded, acknowledging the statement and disengaging as he mentally picked up that ringing thread and followed it into the song.

<<<<>>>>

“Seems to be going well,” Jan noted to El’ynn off to the side as they oversaw additional lifts descend with various pieces of heavy construction equipment, all very well maintained and looked over by former slaves beaming with a pride that shown like a beacon in the Force and rang like the peeling of bells in the song to be working by choice and not compulsion.
“Good to see all those weeks out in the sticks made a real difference…” El’ynn replied as she noted her cousin poking around, as if he were looking for something ... or someone. “I wonder what he's after?”
 Hopping over Karmack seemed to have narrowed his fixation on the ship's various landing legs, looking from one to the other as if they contained some sinister threat.  El'ynn walked over to him, Jan in tow. “Karm?  Hey, what's up?”
“Huh? Oh, El... When they came in were there any strange ships or odd sensor readings? Did you sense anything in the Song that was ... oh, blank or empty?”  Karmack never looked at his cousin, his gaze fixed on one or the other of the transport's main landing struts at all times.
El'ynn was having nothing of it. She mimicked his intent pose and clipped tone.  “Nice to see you El!  How have you been?  Did you get hurt in the Battle?" She then flipped over to the side and resumed her normal voice.  "I’m great Karm, how are you?  Heard you beat Mendax!  Is Arnor OK? Ken? Your mom?”
Karmack didn’t even hear her, his concentration riveted.  It was here ... it MUST be!  The tone leads here, but it's too diffused, too spread-out...  It's trying to hide itself,. but ... why? Was it just trying to avoid conflict, or was it planning to attack?
El’ynn gave an exasperated laugh and punched him playfully in the arm.   "Hello?!? You there?"  She stepped up and looked over his shoulder, following his line of sight.  “What exactly are you looking for?”
“There!” Karm's eyes narrowed as he finally resolved the hum and traced it to the far landing strut covered in shadow. ”It’s there.  I’m going to...”
“How the frell…” Jan's voice was shocked as she tapped on El'ynn's shoulder.  El’s mouth opened wide as her gaze snapped around in the opposite direction.
Karm felt the presence resolve in the force and Song even as his own head snapped around to see the hulking from of Black Armour standing in his usual place behind Scrubber, arms crossed against the barrel like chest, a sword that could compete with Zearic for height on his back next to a rifle that glowed dimly red like the fires of the underworld.
“Was he here the whole time?!” El gasped.

<<<<>>>>

With the initial greetings over Ju’lus bowed, Cliff saluted and the group broke up into several smaller knots of people, each drifting apart and going it’s separate way. 
Karmack’s mouth pursed as anger rose within him at being fooled.  Somehow … it … had displaced its presence as well as hiding it.  His trace must have forced it out of hiding, but he’d still been taken on a wild porg hunt and been left staring like a fool at the landing struts for minutes while at any time it could have emerged and snapped his head off.
Er’Lav, after a brief word with Scrubber, had fallen in with Ju’Lus, with the rest of the Mak’Tor delegation trailing behind, conversing.  Karmack, his rage barely contained, strode directly into the acting Kage’s path.   “What is that ... thing ... doing here?” Karmack seethed pointing straight at the hulking brute behind the Togruta.
Er’lav glanced behind her, then met his flashing gaze with cool, level eyes.  “And what ‘thing’ exactly are you referring to, Master Mack?” she replied evenly.
“The “thing” masquerading as Scrubber’s bodyguard!  It’s their kind that are responsible for reviving Mendax and enabling Cha!  it’s an insult to Kage Silman’s memory for it to come here!  Until we can counter the threat they pose, we should refuse entry to any more of those creatures.”
Er’Lav sighed, and glanced at Ju’Lus.  The acting Kage looked uncomfortable but was clearly not ready to confront Karmack or shut him down, and this was not the time nor place for his wild theories!  This was supposed to be a diplomatic mission, frack it!  Worse, the Son’s delegation, following the Tortuga, had caught up to them on the tarmac.  Er’Lav could see that he had perked up, his eyes bright with a mixture of mirth and challenge.  It was clear the Tortuga had heard every word.
Make the most of it…  Er’Lav met Ju’Lus eyes and he nodded to her, giving her permission to take the lead.  Her eyes flashed to Karmack, her look to him a clear warning: back off!.  Then she let her face soften into a friendly smile as she addressed her ally and , yes, her friend.  “Scrubber, will you take responsibility for your compatriot’s actions?”
“Of course” Scrubber replied without hesitation.  His eyes continued to twinkle, though they hardened considerably when they met Karmack’s.
“Then that is good enough for me,” she stepped forward but Karm blocked her path. 
He gripped her arm and lowered his voice to a whisper.  “Er’Lav, no!  These creatures…  They can easily control even the strongest minds.  That thing is a danger to us all,”
“Irritated now Er’lav jerked her arm free.  She turned and stood face to face, noting the bacta strips still on Karms face glistening in the reflected glow of the midday sun off the ferrocrete.  She kept her voice low, matching his whisper - and his intensity.
“Master Mack, I’ve been posted with the Sons for months. I don’t deny Black Armour is a bloody serious danger … but only to Slavers!  So long as there are none of those on M’tzigon, we won’t have a problem, and if there are … well, I’d be the first to put my fist into their face!”
“The one at the Temple murdered…” Karm began but Er’lav raised a hand to cut him off.
“I’ve read the reports.  The Aertemis industries Employee provided a valid signed military authorisation.  That document was confirmed authentic by General Cliff.  Kage Silman chose to ignore it and engage anyway.  His death is a tragedy, but until I see any other compelling evidence it is a tragedy of his own making.”   
“Evidence….” Karm bristled with frustration: Why couldn’t she SEE!  It was so obvious they were manipulating everything!  Even the Sons of Kessel were under their control, wearing their damn three pointed symbol!

Sensing the direction of his emotions Er’Lav continued.  “This is not the time or the place for this discussion,”  she paused briefly seeing the red pulsing of his still unhealed wounds. “There has been a lot of loss.  We should grieve and rebuild first.  Allocating blame can come once the passions have died down.”
She stepped past him, followed by Ju’Lus and Scrubber, neither of whom met his gaze.

As the small group of Mak’Tor and Sons moved away from him Black Armor remained unmoving.  The two stood facing each other for long seconds before the armored figure cocked his head ever so slightly.  Karmack felt the bubble of anger rise in him again.  He’s mocking me!  A gesture of contempt, as if to say ‘We’ve won … and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

Then the figure stepped forward at what to Karm would’ve been a stiff jogging speed.  Drawing on the Force Karm matched it.  Blocking the behemoth he  flipped up his hand to push against the armoured chest piece – he felt a few dissolvable stitches in his arm pop out at the speed of the movement but in that moment he didn’t care.
The vacant face plate looked down at the hand as Karmacks voice came in barely a whisper. “Tell your…masters…I WILL get justice for Silman, for the Temple, for everyone.”

[Karmack]

Zearic

He felt like a lab-nerf. 

His arm was peppered with small stings from needles; his head still slightly swimming from the Gray healer’s analysis; his legs tired from running the treadmills to test his new limbs; the  taste of canister oxygen still in his nose from the breath analyser.

Maybe not even a lab-nerf.  Just a bio-sample…

Zearic waited across the desk as Doctor Ar’Re’Lin – or Ariel - approached with his results, that she wasn’t flanked by Maenowans suspicious of his behaviour was a good sign.  But as Kir’Kas’Ren appeared with Jaim a moment later he was less confident.  ‘Kirk’ had been responsible for analysing the Nocte and Tenebris.  As Jaim took the seat beside him he could feel the tension in his friend had only tightened since he had last seen him on the other side of a transparisteel window during a mental delve.

“Well don’t everyone rush to give me the good news at once,” Zearic smiled trying vainly to inject some humour into the situation.  After his…incident at the Temple everyone had been beyond guarded around him as if afraid he could snap at any moment.

If they had any idea how afraid I am of doing just that…

“Well let’s get right to it then,” Ariel began.  “Physically, you are perfectly healthy.  More than healthy in fact – compared to the baseline data we had from your last training sessions on M’Tzigon you’ve improved significantly in overall endurance, blood oxygenation is up, lactic acid build up is down, reflex time is significantly improved…”

He couldn’t deny that after the initial shock of having his limbs restored he felt healthier, stronger than ever before… and it was more than just having flesh and blood renewed.

“The only oddity is the presence of half a dozen…unique…hormones in your blood that were not there before,”

“What kind of hormones?” Zearic queried idly clenching and relaxing his renewed hands. 

“That we don’t know…there are similarities to testosterone, somatotropin, musclin .. but only similarities.  The sample was given to Kirk…” she nodded toward him.

“Compiling what we could from the Gray singers and Jaims delves, we couldn’t find anything untoward in your force presence, no evidence of deleted or suppressed memories, subconscious programming…”

Jaim looked at Zearic guiltily, Jaim was renowned among the Vhal’Dan for his ability in Force Suggestion and Mental analysis.  To have found nothing was…distributing to say the least. 

“It was only by accident we discovered the connection.  A Silver – Fey - knocked over a beaker and caught it with the force while a blood sample was under the scope…it caused a reaction in these new hormones and your cell samples.  Basically, we believe not only are these new hormones responsible for your recovery and enhanced strength and speed, but also linked to the control the “Black Armour” beings wield over you,”

“We think the Hormones and the chromosomal sequences that produce the mRNA for ribosomes are stimulated by the Force,” Jaim explained, “But only reactive to certain…sequences,”

“Or Songs,” Ariel added

Zearic sat like a kaadu in headlights

“Force…Song…activated hormones…that make me obey the BA’s and enhance my physical abilities…is that like…midichlorians or…”

“No this is distinct…this is…” Ariel paused shaking her head “Well beyond our understanding of how the Force interacts with biology.  Even among the archives I could only find a few papers that discussed the possibility of such things, and they were written over 500 or more years ago.  They were also heavily redacted.”

The healer paused for a moment to let that sink in before she continued.  “The samples we took were the most reactive when placed next to your unique…daggers…”

Zearic nodded as a cold sweat began to trickle down the small of his back.  I can hear it, Zearic: I can hear their song.  It resonates within you. Karmacks words from mere hours before Mendax attack ricochet through his mind shattering hopes and dreams he barely knew he harboured

How can D’Alyanna Trust me…How can Jorya be safe around me…how can anyone ever come near me when I could…I don’t even know WHAT at any moment

Kirk was still speaking - all Zearic could hear was the pounding of his heart, the raspy of his breath that was much too strong –

He had his arms, his legs, even his eye back … but at what cost?  To be a thrall to creatures he could not comprehend?

She Left You Behind for a Reason

At first he thought … no he hadn’t thought, he’d just pressed on taking the blessing in his stride … but of course there was a Price…of course there was a Reason but it was HER Reason not Zearics.

“…earic…Zearic” Jaim finally broke through as his friends face turned red and swollen

“Are you alright....” It was a question Jaim felt foolish to ask as soon as it left his lips – how could he be alright when someone else controlled him.

Swallowing dry Zearic spoke

“Is there a way to shut it off – to suppress it?”

Ariel glanced to Kirk

“It’s possible that the hormones are only activated in response to being near a BA and the effect will gradually fade.  Your levels dropped 55% over the two days of testing.  Over the course of a month we’ll know more but that is the physical side, the change in your Force presence…the strengthening of your general aura…”

Kirk stepped in

“The only certain way is a force suppression device.  The nature of this change is a mystery to us.  We have a reasonable idea of the basic components in isolation, but the combination of biomechanics, Force activation and conscious control … it could take years of tests to piece it all together.”

Lose the Force…to regain my freedom… A darker bargain he could not imagine. Without the Force, how could he protect his family, serve the Vhal’Dan, live his life.  Of course there were non Force Sensitives in the Men at Arms and among Vhal’Dan auxiliaries but …  There must be another way…there must be…

Jaim watched Zearics face go from furious red to bleached bone white in an instant. “Perhaps we should discuss this further later.  This is a lot to take in at once.  Are there any other options we can consider?”

They would know… Zearic thought ruefully, The Black Ones who did this…who heal with a horrific price…and they would never undo it…She left me behind for a Reason…but what reason?  To spy,?  To destroy?  Or simply to confuse everyone – they destroyed  Silman – they freed Arnor – they revived Mendax – they support the Sons of Kessel with ships and resource - why not revitalize me to escape the deep core and spread chaos the next moment?

Still the others spoke on but their words meant nothing compared to the pounding of his thoughts.  He’d never been Stronger … and never felt Weaker …

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

Karmack

“They’re using them.  Exploiting them over again…” Karm seethed.  He and Arnor were looking out from what had once been an upper-level chapel.  It now served as an open-air observation platform overlooking  the work parties clearing away the debris from the collapsed roof in the main aisle.  Karmack started to to say more, but bit if off as his anger boiled, his eyes hard as he watched the work.  There were knights below, and M’Tzigon natives, but the vast majority were off-world labor, conspicuous in their Aetremis industries uniforms.

The damage to the Temple had been so extensive there was no thought of repair.  The bulk of the site would need to be cleared and rebuilt, but the workers were being careful about recovering all the intact columns and material they could to be recycled in the new construction.

Arnor felt the roiling emotions in her husband and kept an uneasy silence.  She was far from certain about Aertemis’ ill intentions toward the former slaves. She sensed only pride from the workers to be wearing those outfits - even gratitude at being given an education and employment.  All the foremen and the Site manager were former slaves as well … and there wasn’t a “Black Armour” creature or one of the ‘girls’ in sight.  One thing she was certain of - neither Er’lav or  Scrubber would allow anyone to exploit them.   Period.

Karm spoke again, half under his breath.  “Look at those false grins.  They’ve manipulated hundreds of beings...”

“You disapprove of our employee’s loyalties Karmack?” the oily sweet voice of Cha carried from behind.

Karm turned slowly.    “You….I thought I smelt something disgusting…”

Cha smirked and raised his arm, sniffing at his arm pit.  “Yes perhaps Ch’nel No. 6 was a bit too much for a site inspection.  You must tell me what perfumes you use…”

Karms fists clenched as Cha approached, even the dust from the work sight seemed repelled by his oozing presence.

“Such a waste…” Cha tutted over the scene “So much valuable real estate given over to rebuilding a madhouse peddling superstitious nonsense.  Tell me Karmack, where was your glorious Maker when Mendax attacked?  Out whoring with some catamites by the Styx, or too busy watching indifferently as the Hutts torment millions of refugees from the war perhaps?”

Karm felt the pain in his jaw before he realized he was gritting his teeth - hard.  He forced himself to relax.  It was not worth responding to a patsy like Cha.  ...or was it?.

Cha felt the direction of his thoughts and smirked as he turned his attention to Arnor.  “Mrs. Mack, you radiant as ever.  I see the morning sun has brought a nice blush to your cheeks.” Cha bowed to her, his tone oleaginous as he snapped his fingers to summon over a worker with a small refrigerated box.

“For you Mrs. Mack…” he flicked it open to reveal a bunch of colourful flowers.  “To commemorate our time together on Canto Bight.  I know I'll never forget the nights we spent together, fencing over the sabacc table, excitement in my room as I lay undressed before you, that dinner on the rooftop…ah but still I can see it!  That tension between us is still unresolved…”

It was Arnor’s turn to seethe.  Oh there is tension… Arnor thought…but releasing that tension would end with Cha on a gurney rather than a velvet bed.

The real target of Cha’s loquacious outburst stood still as stone.  Every word grated against Karm like sandpaper drawn across his still healing face - a face that Cha now regarded.

“When was the last time you took Arnor out for the evening Karmack?  Spending all that time fiddling with your little saber is bound to make her feel neglected!  You’ve spent more time with the dearly departed Mendax of late than your own wife. I can see the signs of your infidelity all over your face – my that Ferroan was a ferocious lover…”

Cha glanced at the flowers noting Arnor was making no move to take them.  He twisted the knife one more time.  “Remember Mrs. Mack, when you decide you want a real man to satisfy you...”

The smile oozing across his face ended with a heavy smack, and only from the heat on his hand did Karmack realize he was the one who had punched him.  Without hesitation Karmack pulled back, ready to strike again as Cha reeled.

”KARM!” Arnor grasped at his arm, stopping the follow-on blow as Cha hit the ground.

“No … let him Arnor.  Let him show everyone he’s just a little boy, angry because daddy Mack went and got himself killed...” Cha spit blood and laughed back through half a mouth.

Something in Karm snapped, he broke out of Arnors grip and shifted, left foot planted as his right swung straight into the fallen Cha’s exposed chest with a heavy thud that sent him skidding across the stone.  He hit a broken column hard, head snapping back but avoiding a long fall to the main level below.

Before Karm could take another step forward two vice like hands grabbed him from behind.  “He’s not worth it!” Zearic yelled in Karms ear, pulling him back into a bear hug with all the strength his new limbs could lend him.

“…Aaah…Zearic…” Cha wheezed from the stone.  “You know he’s jealous of you now.  Without that magic crystal he’s nothing…” Cha raised a trembling finger, “...but you Zearic…you carry the blood of true gods”

“Don’t listen to him, he wants to provoke you Son…” Chillum scrambled up the steps as Karm bristled against Zearics grip, feeling all too keenly the truth of what Cha had said – Zearic was now physically stronger than him absent the Ancient Ones power.

Cha pushed up on his knees, right arm wrapped tightly around his damaged chest.  “And Chillum!  Oh it should’ve been you!  You’re the one most worthy of that crystal’s power and everyone knows it…” He gasped, pain evident on his face.

“SHUT IT!” Arnor snapped back.  Despite his position, she was already wondering how much - if any - real damage Cha had taken from the blow.

Cha laughed again, spitting out more blood onto the stone.  “Ah how disappointed you must be.  You have given so many years, so much of your body to this pathetic fool. Neither Karmack nor I are man enough for a woman of your calibre, but at least I admit it!”

Both his legs jumping up Karm almost toppled Zearic over frothing to get at Cha.

Cha again: “Let him go Zearic let him show his true colours!”

“One more word and it won’t be him you have to worry about!” the big man snapped wrestling Karm to face away from Cha.

“What’s this!”

Oh great just what we need… Arnor thought as General Cliffs voice rung out over the platform.  He ascended the steps to the main floor in winter kit, followed by Scrubber, Ju’Lus and Er’lav.

Cliff took one look at the situation and turned straight on Karmack, finger pointed straight in his face as Zearic let go of him.

“You can’t help yourself can you…it’s…pathological…you need to be locked up!,” Cliff turned as Cha rose back to his feet saddened by the wasted flowers trampled underfoot.

“Mister Cha…once again I must apologize for the violence of this raving lunatic,” Cliff bowed to the grinning Cha, then straightened suddenly as his condition registered.  “Sir!  Do you need medical assistance?”

“Not at all General.  No worse for wear.  Though …  it seems Karmack is experiencing some kind of mental breakdown. I’m sure his loyal wife will ensure he gets the medical help which he needs.”

Cliff shot Karmack a deadly look as he stepped past him and offered a hand to Cha, helping the Artemis Industries Representative up.  He turned Cha back to the vista, sweeping his hand across the panorama of the slowly diminishing rubble of the Temple.  “Amazing progress!”

Cha nodded in agreement, dismissively turning his back on Karmack, Zearic and Arnor even as he wiped the remnant of blood from his nose and chin.  “Already we’re ahead of schedule, and I must thank you General, the workers have expressed to me their gratitude for all the thanks and meals they have received from the citizen of M’tzigon.”

“I will pass that on.  Your workers have certainly made things easier for us,” Cliff added.  While the Men at Arms had a competent military engineering division to help with the rebuilding having the Aertemis industries workers meant he could direct them all to focusing on repairing the Lunar bases and orbital platforms while the Aertemis employees and M’tzigon construction firms worked on civilian structures. “I am also appraised that you are making progress with devising a correction to the Mark IV droid friend foe identifiers…”

“I have a meeting with Colonel Ta’Re on the subject tomorrow general,”

Karm kept quiet as Arnor held him closely, not out of affection but worry he would snap again.  If he struck Cha in front of Cliff, Ju’Lus and Er’Lav he would be lucky if house arrest was all he got. She shared a glance with Chillum, saw the same worry on his face, and without another word she guided him down the stairs and away from the temptation of hammering Cha.

“Vih’Torr…” Scrubber noted breaking away from the pleasantries, “Good to see you again, I regret we did not get to speak in the deep core,”

Zearic looked down at the shorter Togruta uncertain how to reply to that. He had come here to catch up with Karm and see what was going on with Aertemis Industries.  He’d done both … after a fashion.  Best laid plans…

“I wonder is Jorya here with you?” Scrubber went on.

“No she is…on assignment with her mother,” Odd he hadn’t heard from them for a while.  Still with the civil war comms often got lost as arrays in deep space were cut, and he would’ve sensed if anything was wrong … Better that way, until I know what they did to me.  Well time to roll for a hard twelve...  “I must say I was surprised to see the Sons of Kessel so deep in the core,”

“Anywhere there are slaves we will go Vih’Torr,” Scrubber replied nonchalantly “And we obtained some valuable minerals and Imperial defectors to train out pilots and marines…and get the most out of our Star Destroyers…”

Zearic noted a raptor like glint to Scrubbers eyes in that instant.  This was a man who was playing a long game, and playing it damn well from what Zearic had heard.  One doesn’t just stumble into possession of two Star Destroyers!

“And do your allies always go with you?”

“When they can…”

“Are any of them here?  I’ve some questions I would like to ask them.”

“Well this is M’tzigon.  Plenty of Mak’Tor,” Scrubber jested

Zearic’s face hardened.  “You know the Mak’Tor are not the allies I’m talking about.”

The genial smile fell off Scrubbers face as he stepped toward the broken edge of what had once been a wall overlooking the Temple’s gardens – a beautiful view, now ruined.

“See this?  Two thousand, one hundred and nineteen former slaves all told, from hundreds of races, all ages and half a dozen genders…all given an education, a job, apartment, and healthcare by Aertemis Industries.  The Sons can free slaves,Vhi’Torr, but we can’t support them all.  This…this is giving them new lives, new chances.  Can you imagine what this costs? I can’t and I don’t ask, I just look at the faces of those workers, and I see their pride. I see their hope.  I see a future.”

Jorya had said Scrubber was an eloquent leader, and he was expertly trying to not so much divert Zearic’s question but repoint his thoughts to make it seem not worth asking. The message was clear – accept the benevolence the Gods rain down and don’t worry about the how or why of it.

Zearic couldn’t do that…he needed to know the why, what and how.  Not for himself, but for his wife and daughter.

“I see someone playing a game far longer and far more intricate than any one of us can comprehend … and I don’t like being played, Scrubber.  I don’t think you do either.” Zearics tone was firm but not aggressive.

Scrubber nodded tugging at his remaining Lekku absently.  “We don’t get to choose who helps us when we need it Vih’Torr…keep that in mind..”

He turned and headed off to where Er’Lav was speaking with Chillum, leaving Zearic to stare across the worksite feeling only more a pawn.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

I have to admit I love scenes like this, where everything and everyone just comes together their fears and desires colliding.  Great job making the characters feel so real Karm, yes at its heart its an action adventure story, but the interpersonal dynamics you empathized here make it so much more.

[Karmack]

Thanks.  I love the way Karm, with his connections to the Ancient One and his power in the Song and Force growing, is losing his moral compass and his self control.   He's rapidly getting to that point where he doesn't think he needs control anymore.  Just power his way through it.

Sounds like a sith....   LOL

[TheDutchman]

EXCELLENT!  I am SO glad to see WYLB continuing 

Poor Karm: after the despoilment and destruction of M'Tzigon--not to mention the loss of Kage Lo--he's being forced to confront those he feels are responsible, seeing them as escaping justice.  Like all of us, he's all-too-human...and starting to consider choices that are dangerously close to skirting the Dark Side...

In this instance, I'm reminded of an axiom: "Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely."  But if it's done in pursuit of peace and to protect those that you love, what does that say of one's motives?  Do the ends justify the means?  Speaking of those you love: Arnor is (understandably) a hot-button for Karm's anger.  The fact that it's coming from Cha makes it that much more unwanted.

That's what makes this such a wonderful character study into what happens when a good man is pushed to (and beyond) the boundaries that he's set for himself: is one's moral code immutably set in stone, or is there room for "gray areas?"  Regardless, I'm definitely looking forward to where Karm is heading!

Conversely, you have Zearic who FINALLY has what he's always wanted--the raw power to protect his family--only finding that the attendant price is too steep a price to pay.

THAT'S why WYLB is such a powerful narrative: two men whose motives are noble and selfless are confronted with the price that gaining power presents, each of them reacting in almost diametric directions. 

BRILLIANT job, gentlemen!  Kudos to both Karm and LSG; hopefully this is the first of MANY forthcoming chapters 

[Karmack]

Chapter 29 Promotions

Morrigan

The light in her eyes caused her to see the veins around the pupil flash green and pink as she stared up to the right.  She was naked on the cushioned seat, enjoying the sensation of the fabric on her skin.  Enjoying having skin at all...

The Doctor entered the data onto a screen thing.  “Eye sight is optimal.”

This was the last of the barrage of tests she’d been through, ensuring her body was fully functional.

Morrigan thought she was still experiencing some dysphoria, so far all the faces about her looked exactly the same, alabaster skin and red hair, none seemed over the age of twenty.

“You need to run neurological alignment exercises every 12 hours.  We will provide you with the details,” Her liaison explained as she handed her a gown that seemed hand stitched.  Her memory might be faded from centuries of isolation but she was fairly certain handmade clothes were uncommon. 

Pulling on the gown she noted her figure in a floor length mirror – similar to the other women, perhaps more full in the breast, and as per her instruction long ashen blonde hair framing sapphire blue eyes that had unnaturally sharp flecks of gold scattered throughout.

“So where to from now?” She inquired noting her name had been embroidered on the robe…Morrigan after so long not remembering it…to have it here...and so REAL

“Well that is up to you…” Lysi said guiding her to the door.  “We won’t keep you prisoner like the ugly, naughty, mean Mak’Tor…”

They passed other small medical rooms to a main corridor which featured a number of paintings of three women barely clothed against a verdant alpine landscape, small niches held statues of one or more of the same women – it seemed more art gallery than ship...if art it truly was.

The Force was slowly flowing back to her, and the same strange sickly feeling the statue they had left after visiting her cave – her prison - for the first time dripped from these objects.  There was a purpose to them beyond decoration, but even she dared not probe too far.

“…instead we give you freedom and resources to make your own choices as the Goddess you are.”

Larger dark grey doors opened into a hangar, a central well gazing down at the stars, above which hovered was a vast ship, at least 150 metres long and grey with odd looking black wings on the far end.
“This is a Raider 2 Class Corvette, named Zearics Bane by its previous owner…call it what you like - it’s yours now…we can even paint the new name on the hull before you leave.”

Morrigan had no idea whether the ship was any good, it certainly looked clean and well maintained

“That is very generous Lysi…but I’m not sure I’m up for piloting such a vessel,” she was never a great pilot before her imprisonment, she would have no clue how to use such a vast ship.   
   
“That’s why we made you a guide to help you…M4…”

Morrigan turned expecting to see one of the gangly bow armed interpreters and assistance droids she had known centuries past…instead she was faced with a massive looming tank on two legs.
A burst of wind hit her face as it dropped to one of its massive knees in obeisance.  “This Unit is programmed to serve the Goddess Morrigan of M’Tzigon”

“M4 will assist you in getting up to speed with recent events and technology, serving as a bodyguard and advisor…”

No doubt parroting your advice…

“…M4 will give you access to 10 million credits which should be enough to get a good start in the galaxy even during the current civil war…and in consideration of that danger your ship is also equipped with four TIE advanced and a further twenty Mark IV battle droids - like M4 but not quite as clever.”

“As much as I appreciate the generosity…I must wonder how you come across such excess to give away.”

Lysi shrugged.  “Our needs are few and simple…and we like to make new friends - especially with Deities.” 

<<<<>>>>

Ry

The meeting room had a beautiful view of the Mu’Skigon ranges, the winter snows pure white concealing the grey shards of rock beneath.  It reminded her a little of the ranges on Csilla, but even in the depth of winter on M’tzigon there was a warmth from the people that the Ascendancy lacked.

For the moment though she felt cold - perhaps empathic suffering?  Ken was somewhere up on that mountain on a personal quest of some kind.  After the events on Csilla and Lunar 3 he was still … something.  Off somehow.  She didn’t know how to describe it, she just fervently hoped he found what he was looking for and knew she would be here when he returned.

Tel’Owna was still  tapping along on her datapad with Colonel Ta’Re beside her waiting for the Aertemis industries employees to arrive to discuss the issues with the Mark IV droid's IFF programming.  Ry had been ‘employed’ by Tel’Owna as a ‘Technical consultant’ - mainly as she was the only one who could comprehend the Cheunh coding without needing to refer to three different translation holo-sites, and had a basic understanding of the Chiss electrical engineering concepts that the droids used. She was glad to be of use, and was starting to feel edgy standing here looking at the mountains instead of digging into the problem.

Precisely 20 minutes after the planned beginning of their meeting Nimmin Cha, followed by a nervous looking young woman who couldn’t be any older than Ry herself strode through the mahogany door.
“Well, it looks like we’re all here!” Cha boomed with an oily smile.  “So let’s get down to it!”  He pulled out a seat for the young woman, bowing to her as she sat.  The woman quickly hid behind a fold up datapad, uncomfortable on the seat as if she feared it would break beneath her. 

Cha sat beside the girl, Ry sat opposite him next to Tel’Owna, with Colonel Ta’Re at the foot of the table, as if providing a bridge between two opposing parties in a negotiation.

“Have you read the debriefing I provided?” Ta’Re inquired

“Naturally,” Cha replied. 

Ta’Re had a firm set countenance: there was no doubt she was as angry as anyone about what had occurred at the Temple.  “What options are there to ensure this never occurs again,”

Cha glanced at the woman, but she simply leaned back and kept her eyes locked on her screen, apparently unwilling to speak.

Cha’s smile never changed, but his eyes hardened a bit as he replied.  “We provided what you requested;  a system that enables careful programming of individuals who are ‘friends’ to ensure no one can hack or fool the droid's IFF systems.  While it may seem onerous to program bio-metric data for each ‘Friend’ it is still…”

“Seem onerous…” Ta’Re replied bitterly, cutting Cha off.  “The specificity your system requires is impossible ” Ta’Re looked at her notes.  “Height, weight, thermal signature, retinal print!  And then it has to be updated when any of these changes.  Its illogical –  You could conceivably be cleared as a Friend, go to the refresher or walk outside in the midday sun and just like that a [Friend] is re-designated as a {Hostile-Impersonator} and get blasted because your weight is a few grams off or your thermal signature is three degrees warmer!”

“Accuracy is safety, Colonel.”

Ta’Re bit back her reply.  It was as if they were built to protect some unchanging immortal creature rather than real people…   With a sigh she shifted her line of inquiry to avoid a fruitless argument.  “Have you considered any options for smaller identifiers?”

“Ah yes, Miss Aeresdottir has a neat solution: sub-dermal implants with a unique identifier implanted just under the arm.”

Ry had no doubts that would be utterly unacceptable to the Mak’Tor and M’Tzigon civilian government.  Tel’Owna spoke up, confirming her doubts.  “I don’t think that is feasible.  We can’t barcode or chip the entire population.”

“Oh no it’s quite simple.” Cha replied. “We can produce 100 million units within a week.”

“That is not going to happen,” Ta Re, focused on getting a result, cut the discussion off  “What other options do you have?”

Cha sighed.  “Well…the simplest method is utilizing the existing M’Tzigon Citizen and Military personnel facial recognition database.  But if anyone were to hack those far less secure systems, or one of your own turned traitor, you would be terribly exposed.”

Ry’s mind churned.  As much as she already disliked Cha having been in a room with him barely 5 minutes, she had to concede his point.  The easier it was to be a ‘friend’ the easier it was to undermine the whole point of a battle droid.

“Perhaps…” Ry countered,  “...it could be restricted to military personnel and Mak’Tor Knights only.  The droids are basically hammers not suited for civilian extraction or protection, so we restrict them to military targets and interaction with military personnel.  Civilian targets would be ignored unless the droid is given a very specific override - along with a verbal command system that lets an officer with sufficient credentials designate someone not in the database as a temporary friend?” 
 
Tel’Owna looked at Miss Aeresdottir.  “Is that possible?”

After nearly 30 seconds of silence Cha looked to the girl who was tapping away on her strangely antiquated key board.  Ry adjusted in her seat to look over her screen at it.  The keyboard had a queer little sticker on the top of a cute little cartoon animal with sparkles, like a ten year old girl's lunch box.

Suddenly she looked up.  “Oh…it’s done…” the girl turned her pad around, the screen full of tiny lines of Cheunh code

“You had the code ready?” Tel’Owna asked

“No, I wrote it just then…” 

The older women looked at each other in disbelief, then turned to Ry, who squinted at the screen.  It took her longer to read the changes than it apparently had taken Miss Aeresdottir to create it from scratch.  To Ry, the code looked correct, it just needed the facial data table added and some suitable reference fields added.  “It checks out, but we’ll need to add it into the main command terminal,”
“I can upload it now,” Aeresdottir said

“Actually I’d rather Ry work with you on that,” Ta’Re intervened.  She did not want Aertemis Industries being the only ones who understood such a critical function, and the M’Tzigon Cyber warfare team were still learning the basics of Cheunh coding.

“I wasn’t aware Miss Tla was officially part of the M’Tzigon Military,” Cha mused with an odd smile

“Oh yes,” Tel’Owna interrupted, “Lieutenant Tla is a critical Technical advisor.”

Ry blinked, but managed to keep her face impassive at the remark.  If she didn’t know better it sounded like she had just been drafted … and promoted.

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

 

Chapter 29 - continued

Orfa

Finger pressed to her lips she sat atop a pile of crates in the centre of the camp that served as a throne.  It was the highest point available - and a visual reminder to the other ruffians of who was in charge. 

Through the fence she saw the orderly Imperial prisoners left-right-lefting as if they were practicing for parade, overseen by Lieutenant Nordas.  It was a stark contrast to her compound, where her band of pirates and fanatics beat each other up and did their best to hoard whatever rations they could with each drop from the walls.

After the last riot none of the M’Tzigon guards were game to enter.  Rations were tossed off the catwalks causing a feeding frenzy in which the strong or swift would claim armfuls of goods, then rush to her feet to offer them as tribute.  It was a system she approved of whole-heartedly, not least because it so annoyed their captors.

Nor was the violence and disorder as chaotic as it seemed.  She needed to keep some order, but not too much.  The more dangerous her 300 raiders and scum were the quicker General Cliff would be to see them off world…

It had been over a week now with no visit from said General.

She needed to get his attention once more.

Finger still on her lips she felt the gaze of her lookouts upon her, her own attention swapping between a Gand and a husky Shistavanen.  The first tapped his antenna, the second scratched…somewhere only a canine sentient species would get away with in public…

Her finger lifted from her mouth giving the signal to six others.

It never ceased to amaze how creative a caged being could be – from the plast-board bunks they had fashioned ladders, from the poly-twine sheets dampeners to hurl onto the electro fences, and from carefully mixing of foods and fluids provided to various species among them with non-humanoid dietary needs, had created effective smoke grenades in empty water bottles…which were now rolled to the far edge of the camp.

Immediately the M’Tzigon Military Police reacted, riot squads arming as the guards near the smoke took up position.

Through the electro-fence the Imperials paused to observe the riot, Nordas curious as to what his erstwhile ally was up to.

The makeshift ladders were rammed along the sides of the electro-fences, along with piles of wetted bedding thrown on the charged walls to cause temporary shorting of the stun powered defenses as the pirates quickly clambered up onto the cat-walks.  It was an impressive tactical feat, but the ‘victory’ was very short-lived.

The outcome was as predictable as it was brutal.  The M’Tzigon Military police hit the prisoners as they got onto the catwalks with disciplined stun fire and locked riot shields to contain the break-out, then began to drive them back as they were reinforced by additional guards in full riot gear and the main gates were opened once more to admit armored speeders flanked by even more Riot Police.
The entry of ‘boots on the ground’ triggered the second phase of the riot as the smaller pirates, mainly Chandra-fan and Gand, set upon the Riot police with utensils and hastily-made shivs, while larger species blocked the route forward by main force and simple bulk. 

As capable, well equipped and careful as the Military Police were, they couldn’t hold off all of them.  The first losses came as on the catwalk a Barabel broke a gap through a riot shield wall, slamming down officers with leg and tail.  On the ground Ugnaughts isolated an inexperienced private and simply swarmed him under, leaping all over him.

The air quickly filled with the crack of stun blasts, crisping the air unnaturally as shock batons hammered Twi’leki and Weequay back, stun nets pinned former Red Police in place, and tattooed raiders pummeled any Military police unfortunate enough to trip in the mud the prisoners had slurred up before.

And all the while atop her makeshift throne Illiv Orfa simply watched and grinned.

<<<<>>>>

Election

Acting Kage and Master of Healing Ju’Lus sat at the Kage’s desk and surveyed the room.  The buzz of conversation made it feel almost normal … until you listened to the undercurrent of the Song.  The melodies and harmonies of the gathering Meanowans buzzed with tension and conflict.  The calm tranquility of peace was replaced by the turbulent flow of distrust and anger. 

There was no balance.

Nor was the conversation itself truly normal.   Instead of a freely mixed group of friends the room was divided into tight knots of 3-4 people engaging in animated, intense whispers rather than open and easy conversation.

There were exceptions.   Ju’Lus met the eyes of his old friend Du’An, hoping to find the tranquility and balance he was seeking.  In Du’An there was balance … but also worry and anxiety.  Understanding dawned as the Master Singer glanced over at his son-in-law, engaged in his own quiet conversation with Te’Lowna Jackson.  He’s worried about Karm…

Ju’Lus gave him a slight nod.  Before the unfolding of recent events Karmack had been one of the people many thought might step into the role of Kage, likely after spending some time on the Council as Master of Song.  But his recent obsessions and increasingly erratic behavior had many worried. 

Worse, his positions were polarizing and dividing the Mak’Tor just when they needed unity and balance.  Ju’Lus feared that, if elected, Karmack would simply use the Mak’Tor as his personal weapon to exact vengeance on those he felt were responsible for all that was wrong - the mysterious “black armor” aliens.

Ju’Lus continued to scan the room as J’Nor Kroven opened the proceedings.   She and L’Gan Zane were attending holographically, unable to come even the short distance from the House of Healing.  A part of Ju’Lus winced at the weakness of J’Nor’s amplified voice.  He also felt its impact on the room.   The conversations died as the assembled Meanowans found their seats, but the tension in the Song soared.  Everywhere was discord … pain … anger … eccentricity … imbalance …

Everywhere but there….

She was sitting near the back, observing much as he was, and the song seemed to pool around her, the eddies and vortices smoothing into stillness and calm.  Here, at last, was balance!  Ju’Lus took a second to probe deeper, checking under the surface, and he found more of the same.   She was just as engaged and concerned as everyone else, but she maintained her balance and had her emotions in check. 

There was a flicker as she detected the probe and their eyes met.  She looked a question at him, her eyebrow rising slightly.  Ju’Lus just smiled slightly, returning his attention to the room. 

“The chair recognizes the nomination of Meanowan K’A’Mack by Meanowan Te’Lowna Jackson.  K’A’Mack, do you accept this nomination?”  J’Nor was saying.

“I do, Master Kroven.” Karmack’s voice was resonant and filled the chamber. 

The Master of Balance nodded.  “Very well.   Master K’A’Mack and Master Ra’Qe’Nell have been placed in nomination.   Are there any further nominations?”

Ju’Lus sensed a stir in Du’An and he caught his eye before he could speak and do something rash.  Like nominate this old carcass!  Before Du’An could recover and speak Ju’Lus rose.  “May it please the chair, the Kage would like to make a nomination.”

“The chair recognizes Acting Kage Ju’Lus.”

“Master Kroven, the Acting Kage nominates Meanowan Er’Lav’Racc for the position of Kage of the Mak’Tor.”

Er’Lav’Racc’s eyes widened at his words and there was a perceptible shift in the room as attention focused on the slim woman.  Ju’Lus felt a slight waver in her song, but then it steadied as Master Kroven spoke.  “The chair recognizes the nomination of Meanowan Er’Lav’Racc by Master of Healing and acting Kage Ju’Lus.  Er’Lav’Racc, do you accept his nomination?”

Er’Lav’s voice was clear and equaled the resonance Karmack had managed in the ancient hall.  “I do, Master Kroven.”

“Very well.  Master Er’Lav’Racc, Master K’A’Mack, and Master Ra’Qe’Nell have been placed into nomination.  Are there any further nominations?”

There was a flicker in the song as several Meanowans considered … and then declined.  Ju’Lus smiled inwardly.  It was virtually unprecedented for a Kage or acting Kage to nominate a successor, but it had happened.  Ju’Lus just hoped that it would be enough.

“Hearing no further nominations, the chair moves for vote by secret ballot.   Is there a second?”

“I second the motion.’ Du’An spoke firmly, his resolve evident.

“The chair recognizes the second from Master of Song Du’An’Chillum.  Ballots are available in the ante-chamber.  The College will proceed in order of seniority and cast ballots individually, placing them in the ballot box for tally…”

Ju’Lus rose.  He was the most senior member present of the 20 surviving Meanowans of the Mak’Tor order and had the honor of voting first.  As he entered the ante-room, he prayed the Maker that this would bring a return to balance and not just greater eccentricity.

<<<<>>>>

The Master-at-Arms, a Kowan Knight, emerged a little over two hours later and approached the chair.  As the chime calling the chamber back to order sounded he laid a piece of paper face-down on a scanner.  Normally he would have handed it to the Master of Balance to read, but as the Master of Balance was attending holographically this allowed a scan of the results to be transmitted to her. 

J’Nor read the results and nodded to the Kowan Knight.  “Thank you, K’Nar.”

As the Kowan withdrew J’Nor turned her attention to the chamber.  “Assembled Meanowans: The ballots are cast.  Receiving eleven votes and a simple majority of the quorum count, the new Kage of the Mak’Tor is … Meanowan Master Er’Lav’Racc.  Kage Racc, please advance and accept your Office.”

The room was silent as Er’Lav’Racc stood and advanced to face Kage Ju’Lus.  Ju’Lus had already stood and had the pendant of office in his hands.  Er’Lav dipped her head and the Master of Healing placed it gently around her neck.  Light as feather, it still seemed to weigh a ton as it settled on her chest.

Ju’Lus smiled and shook her hand.  “Congratulations, Kage Racc.”

“Thank you … I think.” Er’Lav leaned forward.   “Now what, Master Healer?”

“That, I am afraid, is up to you, Kage.” Ju’Lus released her hand and bowed formally. 

“Three cheers for the Kage Racc!” cried the Master at Arms, his voice filling the chamber. “Hip hip….”
“Huzzah!”
“Huzzah!”
“Huzzah!”

Er’Lav grinned as the cheers faded.  “Very well!   Lets go break the news, shall we?   We have a lot of work to do.”

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

Chapter 29 - continued

Cliff

“For frells sake…” he buried his face into his palms.  Another riot…twelve Military Police Injured, one in hospital.

He suddenly realized he should not have cursed…his wife would’ve scolded him for that…but still…   “Maker what am I going to do…”

M’tzigon had clear policies for the treatment of military prisoners, and civilian prisoners…unfortunately these pirates were neither – they were not civilians, nor were they members of any conventional state they could be repatriated to like the Imperials were.

And with the reconstruction efforts and clean up underway in orbit he didn’t have the ships to deport them even if he had a destination…

His features darkened as he thought on the only people nearby who might be able to help…Aertemis…

Before he could brood on that unappealing thought the comm buzzed on his desk.   “General, the new Kage Er’Lav’Racc is here to see you.”

Racc… that was a surprise, he’d thought either Ju’Lus or Du’An’Chillum would be a shoo-in.  He’d hoped it would be one of them, both were steady hands he had some experience dealing with.  He hadn’t even known she was in contention for the position. 

“Send her in,” he replied, adjusting his shirt and hopefully wiping the frustrations off his face.

“I’m not sure on the exact protocol,” Er’Lav noted, entering Cliff's office for their first meeting as General and Kage.  “So I’ll get right to the point if you don’t mind.”
Cliff nodded  “Fine with me,”

“General, we need a hard reset.  The disaster of the Temple Battle shows we’ve moved too far apart.  That needs to end now or more will suffer next time.  Silman was playing games with deployments and intelligence, running things behind your back … and you were playing to spite him with Aertemis.”

It was less accusation than simple fact as she sat across from him, firm but not unyielding in her demeanor.

“So I’ll give you access to all the mission reports Silman kept from you and you give me the details on exactly how deep you’ve gotten into bed with Aertemis.”

Cliff didn’t know much about Er’lav, but so far she seemed pragmatic at least.  “You’re right. This can’t go on, and there has been sniping on both sides, but no matter what accord we make it won’t help till that damn jumped up singer…”

Er’lav raised a hand “We can discuss Karmack later.  For now…how deep is Aertemis,”

Cliff raised an eyebrow  “I thought you were quite chummy with them, given your time with the Sons and all.”

“It’s because of my time with the Sons I want to know.  I’ve seen how they pull the strings there, how much Scrubber relies on Black Armour … and how little even he knows about  their motives and resources.”

Cliff nodded.   “Very well.  Apart from the droids,” Cliff began, “which we still owe a significant sum on, by the way, Artemis bailed out some of the Mack Clan on Canto Bite and made a generous donation to the M’tzigon emergency relief fund,”

“How generous?”

“Generous enough that the President wishes to thank their President Sophi in person.”

Er’lav’s face froze at the prospect of one of Aertemis’ ‘girls’ anywhere near senior M’Tzigon officials who were not Force Sensitive.  “That would not be an … ideal situation,”

“Unfortunately the invitations are sent. President Alvarez is keen to meet his benefactors  The economy has not been doing well with the civil war reducing trade.  We are self-sufficient for the most part, but there was little spare money for a disaster like this and we’ll be stretched very thin making repairs even with off-world insurance to defray the costs, let alone our other plans for the Requiem”
“You intend to rebadge it?”

“Amongst other adjustments.  We’ve released emergency funds, but even so…” Cliff shook his head frustrated that he couldn’t defend M’tzigon properly for lack of credits “…without their donation and their workers we’d be looking at years to recover…”

“And instead they let us do it in months and earn our eternal gratitude in return.  It’s the same honey trap they use with the Sons.”

Cliff had long suspected as much, but Er’lav’s statement confirmed it. Like an opioid, they soothed your pain and problems and got you addicted at the same time. 

Er’Lav felt the direction of Cliff’s emotions and she understood his apprehensions all to well.  What she hadn’t told him - and had no intention of telling him - was that she had reason to believe Artemis may have instigated -however subtly - the entire failed invasion for this very purpose.  While she wouldn’t admit it to Cliff, she shared Karmacks' suspicion they had revived Mendax to force a confrontation, but she knew it could never be proven.

Cliff grinned wrily and continued.  “So far they haven’t asked for anything in return apart from our payments for the additional droids we hired.  Can’t really blame the for that.  We broke them, we bought them…”

“So far…” Er’lav agreed

“Which makes bringing Karmack into line all the more important.  We need them…and if he and his family keep attacking their staff all those droids and workers will vanish like that.” he snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.

Er’lav was not so certain Artemis actually cared about Karmack slapping Cha around. Indeed the sleazeball seemed to relish it. Even so…  “Karmack went too far, he won’t escape censure” Er’lav said.

“Your predecessor would not have been so willing to throw him under the mag train,” Cliff noted.

“I’m not my predecessor and I’d prefer not to be compared to him or assessed in the light of his legacy when the situations we face are radically different.”

That was not the response Cliff expected…firm, confident and individualistic yet not overly hostile.  He decided could work with this Kage.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  So, do you have plans for keeping him in line?  If not, several members of the Sword of Light are chomping at the bit to get their hands on him.”

“And while your pen is no doubt hovering above another issue of General Order Two-forty-four…”

Cliff straightened at the accusation, more in surprise at her insight than any real offense.  Yes, he’d held back any further action against the Macks in light of Karmack’s personal defeat of Mendax, but he had not forgotten that it was he who’d started the conflict in the first place! 

Er’Lav continued “…I’m trying to build bridges General, not toss people into Brigs.  I’m giving Karmack one more chance to get his act together. If he does anything to upset the delicate balance we have now, he’ll be gone in a week for a long long time.”

“Silman promised the same…” his gaze lowered, his eyes as bitter as his tone.  “Ask the families of Orbital Three how that worked out.”

Er’lav would not be baited.  “Like I said, General I am not Silman.” She stood up and headed for the door without another word.

General Cliff leaned back as the door closed.  No…no you are not…

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Never a good situation where the personal meets the political, unfortunately it is the reality Galaxy wide.  Policy choices are shaded by the personality of those who implement them, adherence to policies often affected by whether you like the person who is in charge or not. On M'Tzigon this is fully on show, Cliff's choices were driven in part by antipathy toward Silman and Karmack, the choice of Er'Lav appears driven by a desire to avoid more divisive figures being put in charge - a compromise candidate rather than necessarily the most able.  And now Er'lav is in the hot seat, and she is smart enough to know why she got there, and now unfortunately for all the Mak'Tor are relying on her having the personal and political skills to bridge the gaps that have grown and dangers that lurk...Ju'Lus said it best (and possibly with some relief he wasn't put forward)  - “That, I am afraid, is up to you, Kage.”   

[Karmack]

Totally true.   :-)

Er'Lav is going to prove interesting.   She has a very deep calm and balance, but they're born in very personal pain and tragedy.  She has been very badly broken and recovered, which lends to her strength but could also have its own interesting ramifications.   I am looking forward to exploring her more.   :-)

ON a personal note:   The character is also named after my wife.   This is just editorial, it doesn't reveal anything about the character, but my wife's name is Valarae.   Val - ah - ray.   Her maiden name was Carr (car).   

If you say it backwards...  Er'Lav is the first two syllables of her first name, and Racc is Carr backwards.   She used it as a Star Trek forum name many many years ago and I kinda hung onto it.   :-)

[TheDutchman]

And so we get another glimpse of the politics and logistics surrounding the Mak'Tor.  Good choice with a Ry POV (she's another one of my favorites  ), especially since she seems singularly qualified to be able to help out with the aftermath of the debacle between (former) Kage Silman Lo and the Mark IVs.  That being said, I wonder how much she'll be able to actually help given that Aethan enumerations are no doubt amongst the most complicated in the galaxy...

I have to wonder: given the rather...low numbers of maenowans casting a vote, how much of a majority did Er'Lav really win by?  Plus, she seems to have recovered (mostly) from the traumas suffered at the hands of the Sons but is she ready to lead?  Of course, as we've witnessed alongside General Cliff, she certainly possesses a strong backbone and agenda.  Let us hope that she will be a clarion voice amongst many, calling upon that cooler heads must prevail...

Yet another problem is that, despite his actions helping his fellow Mak'Tor and, indeed many more citizens of M'Tzigon, Karm's notoriety is beginning to overshadow that goodwill.  Looking forward to seeing where this is taking us^^

Totally true.   :-)

Er'Lav is going to prove interesting.   She has a very deep calm and balance, but they're born in very personal pain and tragedy.  She has been very badly broken and recovered, which lends to her strength but could also have its own interesting ramifications.   I am looking forward to exploring her more.   :-)

ON a personal note:   The character is also named after my wife.   This is just editorial, it doesn't reveal anything about the character, but my wife's name is Valarae.   Val - ah - ray.   Her maiden name was Carr (car).   

If you say it backwards...  Er'Lav is the first two syllables of her first name, and Racc is Carr backwards.   She used it as a Star Trek forum name many many years ago and I kinda hung onto it.   :-)

I like that, Karm!  I'll have to try that for a later character myself 

[Lord_S_Gray]

 

Chapter 30 — Unearthings

Ken

It was…cathartic.

Not comfortable. Certainly not easy…he was dirty, caked in the strange cloying sweat of exertion at low temperatures, struggling for oxygen at high altitude on the weather damaged, barely trod path.

Yet here…in the empty cold he was away from everything, nothing but the howl of the wind and crunch of the snow: no decisions, choices or confusing emotions – that would come later – just the purity of one foot in front of the other was enough.

Ken wasn’t exactly sure how far it was to the cavern where the Nameless One resided.  There were three paths to it, but twice he’d been forced to backtrack the route after finding the trail blocked by snow.  The delays were long … but it gave him that much more time to clear his head.

And there was a lot in there to clear…

So much had happened since being knighted.  Too much, in too small a time frame: being placed with the Sons, his first real combat and infiltration mission; arguing with Jorya; developing his relationship with Ry; being accused – not unfairly he had to admit – of spying;  his mind opened and sifted like a cheap ebook; and then being thrown into Chiss space with its restrictions and discrimination, his own hate boiling over, both for the Black Armoured creatures and his own weakness, and finally coming back home only to be arrested and then plunged into an outright war…!

Concentrate.  One foot in front of the other … that was more than enough for Now.

Hand over hand he passed over rocky outcrops too steep for snow to settle.  Shimming on the edge he curved round the barely-there trail, air thinner and colder, his worries melting away in the white clarity of ice that settled on his reddened cheeks.

His father had come here a number of times. He never spoke of what occurred but always seemed more self-assured afterward…  Maybe it was just the climb?

Over a small crest of snow he saw the rocky pile that marked the whistling entrance as the wind picked up.  Through the stinging sleet he stepped into the darkened cavern as the setting sun was finally lost behind the dark gray clouds of the gathering storm – he had reached it just in time

Switching on his flashlight he looked around for any trace of a…whatever he was meant to find.

Nothing appeared.

Maybe it's too cold for temptation… he thought, settling on a large flat rock further inside the cavern to eat an energy bar and sip his water. As he ate he listened, deepening his awareness of the here and now, a nice change from worrying about before and next.

Nothing but the echoes of the wind against the rocks, the trickle of water deeper inside…even the Force was still and cool. As time wore on his eyelids became as heavy as his weary limbs…  Before he even realised it, Ken was asleep.

<<<<>>>>

Uncovered

Whistling a tune Snelb Sharpgrass set about digging once more.  His aim for today was to finish trenches 4 to 6…but if he worked hard he was sure he could get 7 in as well. Whirring up the excavator he settled into the seat and tested the arm before digging into the ground, hauling up the cold hardened dirt. 

The new Temple would have additional underground levels, including a hardened shelter to ensure an attack like that which had demolished the first Temple would not be so devastating.

It was sad to have come here under such circumstances. Snelb well knew what it was like to see your home burn: His people, the Nosaurians, had been deemed primitive by the Empire and New Plympto and its population deemed as ‘expendable’.  The Empire had seized businesses and razed entire city blocks in the capital Phemiss for its new factories while it commandeered the rikknit trade on which they relied. The final step was to round up and sell the Nosaurians that their exploitations had left unemployed and homeless, as Snelb had been - as slaves.
One day he would go back…but for now he would help those who had helped him, save up his pay and build his experience so when he did return he could set up his own construction firm and help rebuild the homes the Empire had destroyed.

He focused on digging, the vast shovel pulling up more and more dirt, a few old dead pipes…his tune continued on in time with the thrum of the earth…
Till a CLANG disrupted it.
“Hoh what’s that!” Lleww cried out as Snelb turned off the excavator and hopped out.
“Looks pretty solid that…I thought we were below the foundation level…get out the shovels and call Overseer Fik!”

<<<<>>>>

Something sharp and hard struck his vision all around. He was…where was he…at the Temple…no the temple wasn’t there anymore…but there it was…then it wasn’t…
Karmack sat bolt upright with a cold sweat on his brow.  The sensation from the dream hadn’t faded.  Something was striking … something … at the Temple…

Spinning round he reached out to summon his sabre to his hand.  With the Ancient One pulsing within he reached out again, probing … something had been … uncovered … revealed …

Without a word, with barely a thought his armour was summoned onto his body by the force as he nearly flew from out of the house, the force slicing his legs through the air past all resistance – leaving Arnor in the bath completely ignorant of where her husband had gone or why.

<<<<>>>>

Ken

His back was sore from the uncomfortable stone, but apart from that he felt perfectly refreshed.  Perhaps that was all there was to this place ... a retreat from the world rather than a test?  No, that seemed wrong.  The Nameless one ought to be here in some form … yet he sensed nothing…

Maybe you have to go deeper. The front of the cave is for resting after the climb, then delve further for a trial…  He ate and drank a little, stretched out and limbered up then proceeded deeper.

The winding tunnels were worn with footsteps, but utterly silent.  While there were a number of passages they all led to the same endpoint.
The cavern wasn’t large or impressive, just empty. There was a small plinth within a carved space in the rock – but it was empty of the Force itself. The force was not dead like it was around Black armour but it was so quiet Ken could not have drawn on it.
Atop the plinth was a holocron, it’s surface dulled with the patina of great age and etched with ancient Aurebesh … and yet … as his head lamp flicked across it he saw a glint.  Something that old wouldn’t glimmer unless it had been very recently scratched…  He stepped forward to make out the inscription etched into the side of the cube.

“Keeping Women against their will is mean and nasty!” he said out loud as he lifted it up, feeling the lightness of the aluminium dyed and scrubbed to look old in his hand.

<<<<>>>>

Karmack

It was a repeat of his race to the Temple when Mendax had attacked – and whilst there was not the same clash of fighters over his head or looming darkness to face…Karmack felt no less agitated as he leapt past hover cars, through traffic lights and over buildings.

Aertemis industries ‘workers’ staggered away as the yellow blur of his form sped past them, a few who had seen Black Armour were less stunned but no less concerned as he headed to the main excavation pit. 

A rolling flip he landed in the hole before a soil covered hexagonal stone building, ancient seal marked with archaic letters on a bench nearby having been removed.

A number of workers at small collapsible desks and with various scanners and tools taking samples of the Stone – he was at least four storeys below ground level, past even the access and sewerage tunnels that had been removed…So far as Karmack could recall the Temple had been the first structure on the mount and not built over, the Temple district being built around it…yet all this was mere detail…

Where the sealed tablet had been rent away stood Black Armour in towering Oblivion blocking the entry into the shrine…or rather it’s contents…that had called out to Karmack in his sleep after being disturbed.

“Uh…can we help you…” A stunned Nosaurian jittered at his sudden appearance

Karmack ignored him eyes boring the Oblivion monster that stood in the door way to a shrine marked with ancient Mak’Tor Clan symbols. Some other person began asking him things but he ignored them too striding straight up to the defiling presence.

“Move,”
It stood as still as a statue

“Move…whatever is in that Shrine belongs to the Mak’Tor, you’ve no right to…” he kept himself from saying ‘desecrate’ if only barely
“…be here”

For a moment Karm thought it might actually be a statue given its unresponsiveness and absence of any presence in the Force…but that was their trick, to appear absent when they were present, seem present when they were absent.

“Move…or I will remove you!”

He just realised he was screaming, he didn’t care – he would not stand by while these creatures devastated the planet, murdered the Kage now defiled the Temple and the Mak’Tor’s heritage.

Once more it seemed to laugh behind the unmoving helmet straight at him.

A sudden pulse in the Force removed any doubt they were doing something terrible in that shrine…it was not dark, but certainly not what Karmack would consider natural – it was a cloying cacophony of current and twists that was there then gone an instant later.

For all he knew they could be building a thought bomb in there - he had to end it.

“You leave me no choice…”

The snap hiss of his sabre filled the excavation trench with yellow light, Karmack opened all the channels of power he could, the ancient one the nexus between himself and the Song of the Light building to strike down the darkness.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Er’lav’s voice rang out from behind the safety barriers around the excavations upper level.

She flipped down into a graceful roll followed by Ju’Lus, Chillum and Le’Nas’Vam, a retired but still able former Maenowan who now oversaw M’Tzigon Museum.

“Put that sabre down before you hurt yourself.”

His heart seemed to stop at her patronizing tone, the sudden drop off from his combat ready high jarring his niggling wounds as she pushed past and strode straight up to the Oblivion monster without fear or pause. 

It moved aside instantly for Er’lav to step inside. The Shrine was small, the size of an officers cabin on a frigate, columns were etched in intricate scripts, in the centre a small podium upon which a blue-silver crystal hovered millimetres from six pointed claw tips that traced lines to each of the six columns. 

As she stepped closer the crystal shifted in colour to a deeper midnight blue with a light blue moon-like glow in the centre. The room was clean, it had obviously been sealed air tight up till this very day…though whether it had been opened accidentally by the excavator or on purpose was another matter. 

Two women from Aertemis industries with a small rounded droid hovering behind them were scanning the walls.  One held a hand sized scanning device and a medium sized box containing sample, the other woman cradled a queer Orb of some kind in one hand while her other hand was held palm spread above the crystal…there was a thin trail of blue from the crystal, to the woman to the Orb.

“You should not have touched it before I arrived…” Er’lav censured

“We had to make sure it was safe,” the one with the scanning device replied indifferently. “We’ll be finished in a moment, no damage has been done - everything will be as we found it…”

Er’lav wasn’t inclined to argue…they could’ve easily kept the discovery from her…if not Karmack – but they had informed Cliff and Ju’Lus – unaware of her election as Kage – as soon as they found the shrine. 

“Be quick…and true to your word,” she turned back out where Karmack was still in a battle stance as Chillum tried to explain to him they had contacted the Mak’Tor as soon as they found it,

Karmack was not convinced.

“…that doesn’t give them the right to set foot in it! To bring their thugs to the Temple grounds! They should’ve waited until Len arrived with the proper equipment to preserve the find!”

“I agree.” Er’Lav interrupted, Karmack looked stunned.

“They should’ve left it alone…but what is done is done and it’s not worth dying over,”

“hmmph,” Karm sneered He wasn’t the one who would’ve died if it came to a fight he was sure.

Er’lav rolled her eyes…Men and their sabres – at least they’re more open than women bitching behind each other’s back…but more destructive for all that…

“I will make a formal complaint through the proper channels…for now we’ll leave it to Len to work with the construction crew to secure, map and preserve the find…” she strode past Karm as the two women walked out of the shrine, the sight of the Orb in one of their hands causing Karmack’s ire to rise once more.

Er’lav stopped mid stride
“I want to see you in my office in three hours, Karmack.” She finished

No ‘Kage’…I will see you in Three hours. 
 

<<<<>>>>

Arnor

“Karm?”

Hair tousled in a towel she wandered about the house barefoot, a breeze of cold air on her wet skin from the bath.

“Karm…where…” coming to the entrance she saw the door was left wide open,

Reaching out with the Force she sought the familiar bond with her husband.

A sharp agitated spike miles away was the only response, while they couldn’t communicate telepathically she knew enough of the meaning behind the terse response to know it meant something like ‘I’m busy leave me alone’

“Maker, where have you run off to now!” she scowled.

Arnor had hoped they had at least a few days of peace, Maker knew they both needed it after weeks apart on Vyth and Canto Bite, then the chaos with Mendax.  She was glad Karm had lost the election for Kage all told, the extra stress was the last thing he needed.

And yet now he seemed to be running into ever more trouble, out the door without even a word of warning – she knew he was – sensing things – learning things that were important…but the rudeness of it, the sense she was just an aside, not even among his top ten priorities was hurtful.

Sighing she closed and locked the door and headed back.  She had barely taken off her towel when she heard the front door fly open.

“Dad! Dad!”

The panic in her son's voice had her throw on a loose shirt so fast it was on backward. She grabbed her sabre, never far from her hand.

“Ken what’s wrong!” she burst out of the bathroom.

Her son’s face was red with cold, the door once more open behind him with an emergency skiff parked behind – the skiffs could be summoned using a gps tracker from anywhere on the planet by a Knight in need – he must’ve used it to come from his planned mountain hike early.

“Mom, we need…Dad, Grandpa, anyone…she’s…she’s gone…”

“Who?”

“The Nameless One,”

<<<<>>>>