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Author Topic: Fate of the Aether  (Read 72802 times)
Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #135 on: November 12, 2018, 10:58:51 PM »

Chapter 31 — Limitations — Taking it Easy

Part 1

Sofa
Limitations…take it easy…

It had been a pleasant trip up to that point, taking the newly named Lyssia – though Sofa was partial to the Happy Gorbil – with their Chiss transport slaved to it.  She had practised controlling the ship using the aether alone while Valens instructed her on Mark 1 Guardian Armour and weapons, the Arrows in particular impressed her following her delve of Adaea’s tactics.

If the rich black material the armour and weapons were made from was fearsome, the technology behind it was terrifying, thermal outlines on the HUD, active aiming for the rifles, ability to integrate the Lyssia’s sensors and pilot it remotely.

“Our weapons have to be worthy of us Kiraea says,” Valens noted.

She was feeling excited, connected as he guided her through aetheric precognition…their connection welling in her mind, heart and body…she pivoted round to kiss him…

“Not now…you need to learn your limitations…just take it easy for a while…”

It annoyed her…to be told off in such a paternalistic way…Valens didn’t – culturally couldn’t - mean it like that – but he had rescued her on Sinkhole and then in the Mind Search with the Sith – she was very well aware of her limitations. She didn’t need him to remind her. 

Landing in a public starport in the Chiss ship – the Lyssia hidden in orbit as stealth extraction back up – they were greeted by a friendly Nimbanese, the reptilian excitedly presenting them with brochures detailing the best of their nature preserves where tourists flocked to see the mobile plants whose complexity in obtaining food from had guided the evolution of Nimbanese cognition and by extension their society.

She’d generated an illusion so the port workers ignored their amour – it was reasonably well fitted, but squeezed her breasts, Aethan women being less well-endowed in the bust as a rule.  They hired a small hover car as Valens sensed Lyr’s presence more precisely, cruising along a highway along the Mesa upon which the city was built, overlooking the vast reddish plains below where the mobile plants wandered about.

As they reached a rise in the Mesa amongst the upper class mansions she looked enviously at the lookouts, wishing they had time to stop at one – watch the sun set, make love beneath the stars…

“One day…when were not under threat,” Valens replied to her thoughts, he was improving, between her pheromones, finding a reflection of his own struggles in Melron and now the focus the attack on Station and news of the clones mutilation had yielded.

“Will it ever be over…” – Jedi, Sith Lords, Morgukai, Mandolorians…and who knew what waited for them next. She could tell he didn’t have an answer.

They glided in uncomfortable silence past the high walls of the mansions, all decorated with gaudy geometric Clan markings, finally coming to a stop beside one left bare likely meaning  it belonged to off-worlders.

A gentle wind from her mind scanned the building, flowing across the estate, through the walls, over the front garden dotted with small wandering shrubberies, up the four levels of a curious cream marble and through the rooms and central courtyard…

There was life…and danger…eleven beings…a mist of expectation…one in the courtyard - a lot of pain

“Lyr…” Valens seethed.   

The others felt dark…likely cultists…the True Sith was not there…Valens hadn’t anticipated he would stick around…once the cannon fodder was gone they could investigate.

“How do you want to play this?” he asked

“Oh I have your permission to think, that easy enough for me?” the snide comment was more drama than genuine.

“Sof….” She could feel he was apologetic and concerned…this would not be easy.

“Alright…we could just knock…one in the front door one round the back…,” she paused attempting a ‘flow sight’…pushing her mind ‘forward’ in time to work out what would happen in the next few minutes…

Door burst down, large entrance hall, red blades…then…it became fuzzy static…

Over the roof, courtyard…twi’lek nailed to a beam…lighting flashed…static once more…

Waiting…night fell…but the pained life with it…Lyr dead…too late…

“Not much time…Front door it is…”

He paused placing a hand on her shoulder “I’m sorry, you know I don’t think you’re an invalid…but these enemies…feeling out your new body…if you need to back off…back off and let me deal with it”

She sighed understanding, “I’ll take it easy,”
<<<<>>>>
Greigas
Darth Greigas was the first to sense it…he was far more able than these other force-lings his master had paired him with.

The Red Master had sent him here to interrogate the prisoners, the Twi’lek had little to offer, an unyielding mental barrier which under the most strenuous delves activated a failsafe rendering him unconscious, mind blank – likely self-deleting memories.   

This failure he had carved as a slice from his flesh…it stung beneath his robes.  The dark side did not heal, it changed…what was soft, weak flesh now calloused scar tissue along with three quarters of his body...his failures were many - but the Red Master was wise and showed how with each failure his body could become more inured to pain.

The others began to pick up the presence approaching them…light and blue like a cloud of the gas giant Noctu.  Around him an assortment of would be Dark Lords, Nagai siblings, a besalisk who had replaced all but one arm with spinning inbuilt red sabres, a Zeltron female with hideous orange hair, an Anzat, tentacle headed Feeorin, two other humans and oddly an elderly looking Bimm.

Greigas felt insulted that the Red Master thought him so incapable he needed these pretenders to ‘assist’ him…but with mediation he understood…this was to break him free of his Pride…

“The Force shall free me” meant more than the bonds of the flesh…it was the bonds of the mind, of pride, desire, need and want…yes this was the Red Masters lesson…every lesson he understood more…and soon…soon he would exceed and take the Red Masters mantle.

As he approached the annex a boom resounded through the Mansion as the force lit with energy…the target had arrived…filled with pride, bluster, foolishness to make such a grand entrance.  All bounded forward except the Anzat and Bimm. 

Yes let them waster their lives…Greigas would kill the weakened enemy of the Red Master then the pretenders who defiled the Red Masters honour with their very presence.

<<<<>>>>

Sofa
Opulent doors, frame and walls collapsed inward with the blast, moving like a cloud to meet two humans with red blades, one used a variant of Makashi, the other dismissing Jedi styles fought with an Echani style…less technique than dance, not so much a martial art as self-expression. 

Sweeping beneath the sizzling blade to launch a blast of energy in the first chest she realised she had gone too hard - the Makashi warrior launched across the entrance hall into the wall, slamming dead on impact, organs bursting in a star from his back. 

This was the first time she had truly fought as an Aethan Woman…and to say it was different was an understatement…

The Echani fighters expression was one of confidence, determination and ruthlessness if her ability to read his motions was accurate…who was she kidding she knew it was… he was bleeding off emotions like crazy…the under levels of her mind were processing this without her conscious effort, pulling in everything about his motion, his aura, his breath, heart rate, emotional state, thoughts…combining it into a “Knowing” about him. 

His movements were sluggish and limited, she could end him at any moment…opportunities were so numerous, but she was lost in the experience of her new found cognition, twisting left, then right, low, dipping her head back to avoid a decapitating stroke seemingly an hour before the blow actually came. 

She grew bored and started to fight back - settling easily into her preferred Niman style, it was a solid utility form, worked in any situation even if it didn’t excel – her reflexes were so much faster than his it was painful to watch the stilted movements, and her passive learning abilities meant she could read him like a datapad. 

Realising he couldn’t match her speed any other way he cut his telekinetic shielding to increase his reflexes…now it became interesting, lightly parrying a flurry of confident blows toward her core he switched to low sweeps to try and keep her off balance, she took the opportunity to come in between his downward slashes and sever his arm at the shoulder, following the cut down into a circle through the other arm. 

An indifferent kick to the slumping warriors face snapped his head back, skin shearing open to reveal muscle and yellow bone.

Didn’t come much easier than that, she wasn’t even sweating – no wonder Valens and Jarys had taken the Temple on Coruscant so easily.   

Seeing the others drop two Nagai with facial scarring that looked sickeningly intentional approached her, the aether between them was so strong they were almost one being across two physical forms, moving her blue blade into a low guard she waited for them to strike.
<<<<>>>>

Vazin Kree
Blue and red blades clashed to luminous purple as the Nagai circled the woman.  Vazin Kree watched on as the force was shredded in the combat, balustrades and opulent chairs flying, smashing into dust and splinters…

The outcome was obvious, the woman too fast and strong, sabre form impeccable as she wove through the Nagai siblings battle meld - a furious riposte and downward stab pierced the female Nagai’s shoulder…but that was not Niman…that was Echani…

The woman learnt quickly from her opponents.

Her soup was rich, decadent, the greatest he had ever sensed, an appetizer to the Red Master…and yet…there was another…

He felt this one deep in his throat…proboscis tingled with anticipation -it had the venerable savoury of age and the sweetness of youth all in one…pure undiluted power…

This one he would sup on, let the woman slay the other fools - the rich blue sabre twirling to counter a high kick by slicing through the ankle – he would take the male he could feel as the main course then chain her for desert.

<<<<>>>>

Valens
As pommel strike shattered through the helm to the skull beneath finishing the Nagai the Besalisk approached, its artificial arms whirring in flurries of red death.  Sofa could take them easily enough…if it came to it he could intervene…the Anzat and the other human however were a different matter. 

He silently leapt across the roof to overlook the inner courtyard where he had sensed Lyr….craning over the site shocked him for a moment.

Lyr was stapled with industrial nails to a pole, before him two more hastily erected beams, one with Churi, naked, dead, covered in blood and lacerations, the other their daughter Nxi…similarly abused.  A flicker of sadness crossed his face to see a woman and child…memories of Shilea and Cilina coming unbidden to drop his stomach with guilt. 

Lyr would hold while they dealt with the dark siders…he began his planning…

<he leapt down to the balcony overlooking the court-yard, in rapid succession spear like strikes from a red blade forced him onto the defensive, the Anzat was fast and capable…>
hmmm another strategy
<He pulled at the pillars, the roof collapsing, but they moved too quickly, the force guiding their steps out of the way, surprise lost>
This was getting annoying
<Sabre, Arrows and blasters flew over the lip of the roof, unleashing into well prepared opponents who rapidly pulled the devices apart leaving him all but unarmed. >

Someone…or something was sensing his attempts to look into the near future...and countering his plans before he launched them…

He was already tired and stressed from having to chase after this Sith and the wind down of Sofa’s pheromones – despite her insistencehe knew she had to pace herself  if not the outcome would be…unpleasant.

And so would be this fight.
<<<<>>>>

Sofa
The Zeltron had joined after she had severed two of the besalisks artificial arms – took them easy Valens! - inured to the loss it used the force in lieu of hands to keep four sabres spinning like the blades of a ventilation intake fan…it was easy enough to stay out of range but made approaching difficult. 

Deflecting a swipe to her back from the Zeltrons tonfa she stepped into the churning blades, blocking the upper she swept down, released her off hand into a pushing-slash attack. 

Compensating with the aether to avoid toppling the besalisk was unprepared when she switched from push to pull whipping him straight into her blade, dragging it down as she stood side on to avoid the whirring sabres.

One of her levels of consciousness picked up on an idea…she gripped the red sabres before they hit the ground and sent them flying behind her at the Zeltron.

They were easy enough to deflect but bought time to strafe around and assail the red skinned dark sider with force attacks from the left, sabre on the right.   

Speed too great, aether too strong the Zeltron tried an aggressive leap forward to counter but an adroit pivot and low to high cut from hip to shoulder split the seductively attired woman apart.

From the balcony overlooking the entrance hall a Feeorin stared…his muscles barely contained in his brown padded exo suit. 

Feeorins only got stronger as they aged…and there were younger stars in the galaxy than this one…

She kept a high guard as he ignited two sabre gauntlets and rammed through the marble handrails straight at her.
<<<<>>>>

Vazin Kree
At the far end of the balcony from Greigas he waited overlooking the dying twi’leks, the Bimm off in the corner whilst below the woman’s imperfections began to show, the Feeorin quicker than she had anticipated, her raw speed was not going to win her that battle as it had with the others.

His proboscis began to tingle and slowly rise from his face of their own accord - the rich pool of soup approached…yes…soon he would feed.
 
<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #136 on: November 12, 2018, 11:01:27 PM »

Chapter 31 — Limitations — Taking it Easy

 
Part 2

Greigas

Greigas dove just in time to avoid the tiles and beams crashing down from the ceiling, rolled to avoid the mosaics and metal of the floor that burst up as the second of their targets entered the battle.

The floor and ceiling tore themselves apart under bombardments of undisciplined telekinetic blasts, the Anzat moved into a low guard while strafing the explosions of durasteel and duracrete, the Bimm remained unmoved, eyes closed in a deep trance.

Blaster shots and dark arrows come through the holes in the roof, followed by intermittent sparks of force lightning, each Greigas foresaw and avoided with ease, the Anzat equally untroubled as they tried to discern the pattern.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

Random and easy to avoid as he intended…and each time Valens felt a spike in the aether from the Bimm – guiding the others with a combination of battle meld, force persuasion and precognition, making up for its physical limitations by borrowing others strength. 

The Bimm itself was well concealed in the aether, Valens needed undivided attention to find it – that meant removing its unwitting thralls.   

Leaping down a roof hole aether dampened Shikkars darted from his belt into the holes in the balcony floor for later.

They were ready, instantly on landing a heavy aetheric whirlwind pushed him back, skidded into the lighting torrent of the charging Anzat, his proboscis firm against the transparent faceplate showing his desperate need to feed. 

Taking the lighting onto his blade he moved in the Ataru variant Soryu favoured against two opponents, launching his Arrows from above trying and hit them from behind –three were knocked aside, two slammed against a silver cross guard, one missed a clean hit carving only a groove in the Anzats armour as they moved into the combat.

The first clashes were hard and strong from the humanoid- so scarred Valens couldn’t tell the specieis, he wielded the silver cross guard sabre with precision and force but limited speed, solid defence to offset the disadvantage.

The Anzat with speed and experience wielding a blazing red power katana, wasted no time aiming for the joints in Valens armour as the humanoid kept Valens sabre occupied.

The pace of combat increased rapidly as the Bimm became more comfortable controlling his thralls - Valens was fighting one mind with three sets of knowledge across three bodies with no easy or obvious win short of a null field.

The first glancing hits sparked against the Blackstone Guardian armour, with every slash and cut the Bimm perfected his ability to plant precognitive tactics in their minds and better co-ordinate their abilities to balance individual weaknesses.

As he spun through their cuts, buffeted their lighting and redirected their pushes and pulls into the increasingly unstable balcony columns, he was forced to allow small openings for the humanoid, who only missed them due to his slower pace.  Valens stepped up the speed, hammered out the arrows, cracked sparks of lightning off his torso, hurled furniture – each attempt faltered against their prescient battle synergy.

It was a war of attrition, pushing the fighter’s physical resources and the mastermind’s aetheric abilities to their limits – hoping his was greater than both.

<<<<>>>>

Sofa

She was starting to learn her limits - the Feeorin pressed her with weighty blows her superhuman strength struggled to counter - pouring energy into his speed denying her the advantage she’d had over the others. 

Niman style kept her defence solid but provided few opportunities to counter attack.  A chance aether pull tugged his left leg out of balance, a moment of relief returned with painful interest as he pressed her shoulders with micro tugs. 

Too evenly matched she retreated toward the door way, summoning a few of the other corpses to try and distract, only for them to be flung back toward her - dodging two and buffeted by another she was not prepared for the boot slamming into her chest, its angle sending her into the door frame.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

The spin of blades was reaching fever pitch, the speed was faster than their imperfect eyes could manage – they were purely drawing on the aether to guide their movements, and the Bimms precognitive gifts to keep one step ahead. 

And it was working - pinned and overwhelmed he needed to act fast, the Bimm settling into full control, Valens darted a shikkar form hiding to where he thought the creature was – it shattered against a kinetic barrier as the Humanoid doubled the ferocity of his blows. 

The wide swings meant the Anzat had to move back, a chance appeared, a low soresu swing clashed white against the silver cross guard, side stepping out he rose through the slash into the Anzat, shifting right at the last second – the blow connected but only slashed a burning gouge in his helmet.

<<<<>>>>

Vazin Kree

Retreating two steps he threw off the damaged helmet as the scarred humanoid who fancied himself a Darth continued his barrage.

Deflecting another of the irritating arrows, Kree burst off lighting for good measure moving back into the melee.  The twirl of green, silver and red cut odd shadows through the wrecked balcony as their unspoken understanding guided the enemy toward one of the holes he had carelessly ripped into the floor, limiting his foot movements – to avoid a drop escape Kree prepared a telekinetic barrier over the hole to trap the meal. 

With each pivot, each swing, each bitterly paid for glancing blow they landed on the morsel Kree’s hunger grew stronger, his proboscis vibrating in anticipation as they repositioned to the sides of the vessel of rich memories and delectable emotions.

A few pathetic attempts to telekinetically repulse glanced off him as he finally landed a slash to the featureless helmet, a searing yellow groove inching toward the brain fluids he so desperately craved, turning through his swing to build momentum…

“ARRRGHHHH!!!!”

A thin dark green blade sliced across his face and through both proboscis, leaving thin warbling stumps, his attack interrupted by the pain he faltered back, Greigas attempted to defend his ally of convenience, but this enemy did not miss an opportunity, a quick forward kick shattered the Anzat’s shin.

The two arrows previously mere pests became deadly spears, one lanced through the bleeding Anzats shoulder, pulling out and curving round to force Greigas to deflect it.

With one shin broken Kree kept crouched but the damage to the proboscis was the true wound – Without the soup what was the point of living?

Anger the likes of which Kree had rarely felt over took him, brutish unthinking instinct pushed him beyond the Bimms ability to control.

A combat roll back into the fight - but before he could rise into the intended slash the Soup-carrier sidestepped, green blade burned in his other shoulder, a quick kick planted the Anzat on the floor, a telekinetic hammer to his chest left him breathless - a stomp to the neck crushed his vertebrae and the neurons within.

<<<<>>>>

Greigas

The black shards of death bounced from his silver blade as the Anzat was crushed, he turned to be met with a barrage of lighting.  The silver blade took the brunt in fiery white glows but small arcs twisted around to cook into the joints of his armour, melting the Kevlasteel weave. 

The pain disoriented him for a moment…it should not have but…another – another being not used to such pain shared his sensations.

A force at the back of his mind tried to soothe away the questions, but he would not fail…he already needed to cut another 13 gouges from this inelegant battles failures into this flesh afterward, he would not add a fourteenth! 

He pushed against the mental interference as he rounded on the enemy, behind him the Anzat fell to his knees spluttering blood desperately trying to use the force to close open arteries.

<<<<>>>>

Himdul
No No NO!  The fool was fighting him, didn’t he understand without Himdul’s guidance he was dead…

The Anzat was a lost cause…but the scarred one could still win!  But he resisted!

Himdul the Bimm grew frustrated and tired as Greigas pushed back against his control. 

Greigas distraction could not last, his blows became sloppier, his body tiring - a slip, an opening so thin even Himdul only noticed because of the depth of his previous delve gave their enemy all the chance he needed. 

From a hole in the floor another of the glass blades slid up under Greigas arm, the dagger buried into and through his torso out of his throat.  Crumpling over, the enemies green sabre made light work of his neck.

Now Himdul was alone.

<<<<>>>>

Sofa

Two lives on the balcony above winked out in quick succession, she was half running half crawling, a charred X in her chest piece from when she’d leapt out of the Feeorins trap just in time. 

The Feeorin kept on her, leaping up and hammering down with both wrist sabre’s, one at her head the other at her chest, a moment later one at her left arm one at her right leg.   

She hated this…every moment was a reminder of her limitations - like Cygrat all over again…an inevitable defeat making her the damsel in distress.  Her annoyance at herself and the situation flared…normally she would use a calming mantra to supress it…but that was a Jedi thing to do…

“FRELLL!” She screamed out at the whole galaxy, her emotion bringing an unexpected aetheric blast - the Feeorin wasn’t much troubled but it gave her time to regain her stance, meeting his blades again she kept her Niman tight and swift.

The Feeorin was becoming irate and fatigued, the fight was going on longer than either of them wanted, but he had reached his limits of patience faster – and was worried about what was happening above.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

Summoning the last of his shikkars he slammed it toward where the Bimm had been, meeting only air. 

Valens could sense it was tiring, filling minds with precognition for so long was past most being limitations. 

Opening his fists Valens erupted a blazing conflagration of lighting that filled the entire balcony in an instant - displacing the air and sparking fires amongst the wooden furniture.  It didn’t need to be precise – to the right, just behind a metal bar the blue arcs bounced off an invisible sphere.   

Ten Bimms appeared and sped toward an opening in the roof, Valens hammered the arrows at six, all sparking against kinetic shields… too much wasted energy – the fool didn’t know when to give up the game of shadows.

By the time the Bimm deflected them Valens was on him – he was in reality crawling toward the stairs dripping in sweat from his hiding place.

Valens blinked quickly to get Sofa’s helmet vid feed, she had the Feeorin on the ropes, more from his exhaustion than her skill…but they could work on that together.

The small humanoid looked up at him, pushing an image of Sofa dying into his mind, twisting possible futures to make Valens rush off. 

“You weren’t easy to beat Bimm…” he picked up the creature by the scruff of the neck.

“Now you’re going to show me how you did it…”
<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #137 on: November 12, 2018, 11:04:00 PM »

Chapter 31 — Limitations — Taking it Easy

 
Part 3

Sofa

The boom of lighting above enhanced the rapidity of the Feeorins frustration driven blows giving her an opening -  she took it along with this left arm at the elbow, closing to smash her elbow into his face, her leg crooked to trip him up in a school yard move as her sabre plunged through the chest.

Dead…finally dead…

Maybe she should’ve taken it easy…

<<<<>>>>

Dusting herself off she stopped dead at the sight before her…hoping it was a hallucination from her fatigue.

Valens had three of their dead attackers lined up, seemingly interrogating their severed heads with the aether…

“What…are you doing…” she puffed

“Learning…”

“But they’re dead,”

“Death is an interesting thing…for a long time many homeostatic processes continue…enough to take some knowledge from the still firing neurons…”
He stood up and danced past the holes in the floor to her,

“You alright,”

“Yeah…well…yeah,”

He traced a hand over the X scar on her breast plate

“Pushed to the limit?”

“Yeah well...maybe taking it easy is a goo…AIIEEE” her girlish scream erupted as one of their heads sprung open, a strange looking worm like creature covered in gore writhing about. 

Valens deft finger raised it up and his armours sensors began analysing.

“What the frell is that!”

“I don’t know…” he squeezed it with the aether and it pushed back for a moment before finally succumbing, Valens swiftly emptied a power cell pack and placed it inside.

“We’ll find out later we need to get Lyr.” patting her on the shoulder he quickly finished ‘absorbing’ the knowledge from the corpses then guided her to the wide courtyard where the bodies awaited.

<<<<>>>>

It was painful to look at…yet she couldn’t quite turn away…as though to deny them a last viewing was to somehow disrespect their suffering…

A woman and her child…crucified…if it was intended as a weapon of terror it was working.

Valens slowly lowered Lyr down, he was still alive – just - thin red lines flowed from Valens into his wounds.

“Here,” he called out, “Just like I did with Melron, but simplified,”

It was like a healing flow that viewed individual cells through aether smoothed vision a lengths of a greater line amongst a lattice of life…each easy to correct with a simple nudge, the clogged and dead pathways cleared or activated with a jolt of energy.

The tingle on her fingers slowed as Lyr finally woke from his pain induced coma with a black bile vomit that made Sofa very glad her armour had its own air supply.

He looked at her oddly but soon fixed on his wife and daughter, not recognising, Valens who gently lifted Sofa away and removed his helmet to gaze into the Twi’leks empty eyes.

“I’m sorry Lyr…” he said…for all the damage he had done to People…Lyr had at least given his all to help rebuild them…even if not necessarily willingly…and Churi and Nxi had earned no one’s ire.

“I’m not…I’m glad they’re dead…their pain is over now…” Lyr replied with cautious clear words, all his emotion spent staring up at their bodies. 

“I just wish he’d killed them before…” he finally turned to look at Valens

“I thought you were bad,” he turned back to the remains,

“But you only kill…you don’t…do what he did to both of them…right in front of me” He lunged forward and grabbed the collar of Valens armour,

“Right in front of me…he didn’t need to tie me up…I couldn’t move couldn’t speak…I wanted,” 

His voice broke and his tears began

“I wanted to kill Nxi…I wanted to kill my own daughter just to make her stop having to feel it…”

Sofa stared at the Twi’lek girl, perhaps four or five, her diminutive form bound by nails as large as her thin arms to the pole.  Her eyes were half open, staring – convicting - down on Sofa.  Beside her the naked from of the mother…a mother…any mother – Every Mother – Sofa wanted to be a mother.

All across the galaxy every day thousands of beings were tortured and abused, millions of children killed or scarred physically and psychologically. As all three of them had been…

The more intently she stared the more she saw…the broken lines…the globules of energy slowly petering out…as Valens had said earlier death was not an instant absolute…..it would be so easy to break the limits of mortality…

A decision to a choice Sofa hadn’t even realised she needed to make took hold - if there was even a slight chance….

Lyr didn’t pay her any attention, “Whatever Kiraea planned to do to me…” Lyr went on, “do it to Xithar,” 

“Come…” Valens stood and offered his hand, “Let’s Go,”

“No…” Lyr replied “Don’t make me…let me die here, with them” Lyr knew he couldn’t disobey Valens, he was already standing on shaky legs.

“You’re too useful to us Lyr…but not wrecked like this…”  The twi’lek thought Valens would offer him a blaster or slay him right there, but something caught Lyr’s eye,

“What is she…”

Valens snapped around to see Sofa lowering Nxi’s body with the force as gently as one would cradle a newborn placing it next to Churi.

There was still life in there…thin but with a jolt in the right places, allowed to flow…taking the mother and child in her arms Sofa poured healing energy into them.

“Stop,” Valens warned, hadn’t she only just agreed to ‘take it easy’!

“You can’t take that kind of…”

“No,” Sofa snapped back, “I didn’t become one of you to sit back and let people suffer, what is the point of us if we can’t help a mother and her child!”

He glanced around pushing his thoughts forward in time…movement…fire…blood

“Sofa this is beyond the limits of...” it was too late, the air began to oxidize as the energy arced off her into dead husks soaking up all she had…broken lines were corrected, circular engines of energy were artificially restarted…

Thrumming pounded through the mansion, the mobile shrubbery wandered off as the booming intensified…this was not Sofa’s doing…Valens shoved a blaster in Lyr’s hand and pointed to the sith corpses –

“Grab what you can…”

Lyr obeyed without question as his daughter’s body trembled and shook in the electrical field Sofa was producing…to intervene now would hurt Sofa too much…

Valens pulled his bow and ran toward her.

In one sliver of time five things happened

Churi gasped and Nxi’s heart restarted,

Sofa fell unconscious from the exertion,

Valens shoved them behind a column,

Lyr fastened the headless Anzats chest piece just in time

Three of the courtyards five walls burst apart in rubble and fire.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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
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Light side points please.


« Reply #138 on: November 13, 2018, 03:56:03 PM »

Fascinating.  Those pesky Jedi concepts of morality keep popping up.  More importantly Sofa still wants to help people.  Hopefully her heart won't get them klilled!

Sofa reminds me a bit of Karmack before Vyth.  She has power, but not wisdom.   So she is very impulsive, sometimes to her own hurt. 
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Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #139 on: November 17, 2018, 12:11:28 PM »

Chapter 32 — Limitations — No Rest for the Wicked
Part 1

Lyr
Was this his punishment?

Mag train to his chest sent him flying into a column – the recently tacked on armour took most of the blow.

Not that small inkling of pain, not the shaky legs he crouched on as blasts rained overhead…that was all laughably insufficient.

To see all his own depravities - all he had watched and done in twenty years serving Myzm and a half dozen other crime lords – violently forced upon his wife and child – was That his punishment.

Twenty years assassinating, plotting, stealing, grafting, and raping all played out upon Churi and Nix’s flesh.  Then tempted by a Daemon they might live only to have it shattered before his eyes.

An adamantium fist took his chest, the Daemon dragging him back, it shoved a weapon in his hands as smoke grenades erupted across the desolate courtyard.

“Shoot!” his ‘master’ screamed before unleashing bolts of midnight death into the encroaching soldiers. For a moment Lyr was dazzled by the presence of the Daemon drawing on his unholy powers to build a ramshackle wall around the more vulnerable women.

Yellow gases drifted past his eyes…replaced by the painful slam of a helmet not designed to take lekku on his head.

His eyes – his own eyes were drawn into patterns he didn’t understand [Linked Craft: Happy Gorbil: >>> Remote Activation >>> Emergency Extraction>>> LOCATION >>> G-Armour-Suit 0006 TORSO]

What was a Happy Gobril was the least of his questions as he wondered if he would see his wife and child tortured and murdered before his eyes a second time in as many days.

<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack
They were as ready as they could be, the place was laced with traps. 

4-8’s homing signal had found the Chiss ship on Nimban, a quick force suggestion from Old Cam and the dock officer gave them access to the hangar.

Hri’Va hadn’t been able to break into the ship, Su-zi planted explosives on the door instead. 

Anne had set up two turrets on opposite sides of the hangar to catch him wherever he moved.  They were all armed with detonators, blasters and vibro knives – hopefully though he would simply trigger one of the traps and blow himself apart.

This was a pure kill operation, the how didn’t matter, just the outcome.

Jo tightened his grip on the RPG…how didn’t matter…even if he had to take the whole space port down, he’d get Valens this time.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose

It shattered the shimmering blue personal shields and tore through the helmet, skull and brain. Recall.

There were eighteen in three APC’s arranged in the holes they’d blasted in the mansions walls, equipped with aether nullifying personal armour – if he had to guess aether resistant bacteria native to Wayland in thin fuild-tubes laced beneath the main plating.   

Too distracted and tired from the fight with the Bimm…he hadn’t sensed them coming…another failure…

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose

Piercing through the rubble it lost momentum but still penetrated the torso. Recall.

Noxious fumes were irritating his nose, body slowly switching to anaerobic respiration, gene-edited auditory sensors better than a Sullustans picked up the rumbled of gunships overhead and more APC’s coming from behind.  The courtyard was about to become a kill zone flooded with stun nets and neuro-shock fire.

Lyr squirmed in the ill-fitting helmet firing off snap shots with a rifle not designed for mortal muscles to lift.

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose

The portable shield took at least 75% of the kinetic energy – they had switched modulation frequency from energy to projectile based weapons – it still lodged through an eye to the prefrontal cortex – Recall.

The torrent of stun fire was intensifying, his arms ached from the hammer blows of the Sith Greigas and now the cycle of firing, twisting away from a stun grenades detonation dancing along a garden bed as stun shots peppered behind his feet as his legs strained, hips twisting to dodge another stasis-harpoon his core tightened and protested against the weight of his armour.

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose

Through heavy armour plating he pierced the drive core of the left APC as fire came from behind and the gunship rumble intensified, the energy of the ships a static blur at the periphery of his short range aetheric senses. Recall

He needed to get Sofa and Lyr out of here…Churi and Nxi too if he could – Sofa had chosen to save them…he was bound by that.

Anaesthetic hormones began dulling the pain – it wasn’t just the fight with the Bimm…it was the hypervigilance – the stress he had been under since Vyth…through Coruscant, the Temple, Myrkr, Sinkhole…scattered moments for rest undermined by the battles against his own depressive battles…betraying Sofa with Shilea, Shilea with Sofa…it itched to drag him down one more… 

He needed rest -  real rest.

It wasn’t coming soon.
<<<<>>>>

Seiton
“Intercept in progress, gas discharged, three losses, all units move to cover, unidentified projectile weapons in use, set shields to Kinetic frequency,”

Seiton watched the trap closing through the geosynchronous satellite feed. 

“Assume his anatomy is resistant to airborne sedatives” – he knew of force techniques to still breathing for hours on end –

“Deploy Sonics,”

The tactical officers nodded and began relaying orders.

Professionalism - that was the key.  Having better equipment than Mandolorians was a start, better intelligence networks than Ubese a leg up, but it was discipline and professionalism that made the Crimson Nova the apex of the Bounty Hunters Guild. 
<<<<>>>>

Valens

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose,
Through the armoured transparisteel of the Right APC’s thin side window splattering the interior with crimson aertarial blood. Recall

Time to move – the crystals of the fallen Sith weapons easy to find he summoned them to his side. Rough cut ruined walls formed a cube around Lyr and the women as he leapt and spun through the air toward the middle APC. 

They wanted to fight at a distance, hammer him from all sides. 

He never gave his enemies what they wanted.

CHNK KWWEEEEEEEE

He fell from the air into a half controlled roll, dust and dirt filling his face as his ears and temple vibrated to the point of bursting – sonics. 

Two stun blasts slammed into his left pauldron – Blackstone armour and muscles four times denser than humanoid standard yielded only a tingle.

Rolling back up he hurled every weapon the Sith had dropped.  Three more fell in chunks of cauterized meat, two others left amputees.

Aetheric bubbles around his ears the second sonic detonation did nothing but twist the yellow-green gas and dislodge another waterfall of dust from the ruins.

In melee non-Jedi humanoid opponents were no match.   

His blows fell like metronomes, precise, methodical, without profligacy or flourish – functional close combat movements given extra potency by superhuman speed.  As the first three fell the others backed to the APC.

Leaping in he denied them escape with his combat knife.  His bow still in use three metres above his head kept the troops from the left and right APC’s from approaching as he leapt to the top of the vehicle and pulled the head off the turret gunner.

Dropping inside the driver fumbled his side arm as his neck was snapped. The Gunships were getting too close. 

The aether flung the cabin door open as he pulled the defensive cube peppered by stun blasts forward. Slamming the walls down telekinetic precision pulled his four charges into the cabin amidst the flurry of blaster fire.

“Get on the turret!” he yelled to Lyr closing the door at hatches mentally before leaping onto the roof bow back in hand - Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose, He pierced right APC drive core as the Gunships came in over the yellow haze of sedative gases. Recall.

“I’ll drive”

<<<<>>>>

Seiton
“Taurox and Chimera in pursuit, target has commandeered APC Besh, APC Aurek and Cresh Disabled,..”

Seitons mouth tightened, he idly stroked his horns – they said Zabrack could be single minded, over confident – Seiton saw this as a strength- he never – NEVER – left a contract he accepted unfulfilled no matter the cost.

It was unprofessional to accept a job and give up due to loss of materiel.

“Taurox and Chimera, fire Neuro-disruptors as soon as you are in range – do not allow him to reach the city outskirts”  there was still 5KM between the Mansion district and the middle class districts, largely botanical gardens and grav-golf courses. 

Once he reached the built up areas, the bribes Seiton had paid the Hutts and Nimbanel Militia wouldn’t keep them out of the fight anymore.

“Have Rancor standby.”
Always have a back up.

<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack
“Hey look at this!”

They had been waiting nearly two hours when Su’Zi yelled, they cautiously toed over where she had the Nimban News Network on her datapad.

“…Explosions along the North Boyolo Estate…only Nimban News Network can bring you footage as events unfold…our cutting edge cam droids capturing every moment of the action!”

His heart seized at the vision…the scornful, dismissive face half obscured by noxious smoke.

“That’s him…” eyes quickly surveyed the small strike force as the plan formed in Jo’s mind

“Pack up, we get him while he’s distracted”

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #140 on: November 17, 2018, 12:22:09 PM »

Chapter 32 — Limitations — No Rest for the Wicked
Part 2

Lyr

He strongly doubted this was safe – the cabin had three unconscious women in lieu of a driver, the ‘pilot’ was standing on the roof beside him launching his endless supply of teleporting arrows toward jinking gunships coming up behind as the APC bounced, skidded and buckled over road, barriers and rocks.

Firing its afterburners one of the gunships drew to the side – its port side emblazoned with Red Crimson Nova insignia opened up as Lyr strained to turn the turret around  chugging the blue blasts out of it, not knowing who to switch if off of stun.

Six men were on the platform, two operating a vicious looking blue glowing triangular turret weapon….He’d seen something similar on a slave raid…Neuro-disruptor cannon – unleashed a 15 metre radius electrical field…rendering all but the hardiest of sentients unconscious…

Oh…that included him…

The pent up energy unleashed.

<<<<>>>>

Valens
Mind all over the place he grasped the air about the energised ball and held it stable in the air allowing them to get out of range before he released it into a crackling explosion that backwashed superheated air onto them.

“I’ll be back!”  he yelled

Bent knees and pained joints launched him across the gap as the neuro-disruptor recharged. The mercenaries bio-infused aether nullifying armour could divert telekinesis and telepathy – but it couldn’t save them from all-encompassing time-space distortion.

His mind heaving ‘backward’ he slowed reality so they couldn’t hit him mid-air.   

Their movements slow even at normal speed were positively static in the warp, he landed on the platform knee into a helm, fist into a chest.  They didn’t move, shockwaves of his blows rippled their bodies as he moved through combat knife slashing necks, knees and elbows – pressurized blood paused in the frozen moment from leaving the body. 

Slicing off the pilots hands he punched in a series of commands – the near light speed wires the only thing as responsive as he was – before flicking off the pins on the co-pilots grenade bandoleer and leaping back out the way he came.

The tension of binding Time released with satisfying warm relief he knew he would pay for later as he landed.

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose, one arrow to end the second gunship…

<<<<>>>>

Seiton
He triple blinked not understanding what he had just seen – a lightning shadow…the men of Taurox Gunship flying off in a mist of blood, the side pintle cannons turning on Chimera, a midnight arrow ripping into its engine simultaneously with Taurox cockpit exploding from within.

“Deploy Rancor.”

Rancor consisted of Three Dathomiri Night brothers.  Despite their similarities to Zabrack their extreme facial tattoos marked them as distinct if their less obvious but more pronounced cultural difference, heritage and force abilities did not.

They were auxiliaries, used for special cases, they didn’t ask for credits, they only sought a limb or other “unnecessary organ of virility” from force sensitive targets - for targets wanted dead he would provide them with the whole body once the client had paid in full.

“Rancor is Go!”

<<<<>>>>

Valens
Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose…

How many more times…his fingers were going numb…his eyes and temples throbbed from aetheric strain dodging the Ion blasts that pummelled the road into a mash of dusty rubble behind the APC. 

They were nearing the built up regions, it would limit their movement in time for the Lyssia to get here.

Hitting the mark of the starboard engine the Gunships behind veered off. Billowing dark smoke. Recall.

A gun-cutter, sleek deadly came in from the flank as they bumped over a retaining wall, his attention divided between aiming arrows, piloting the Lyssia, driving the APC, trying to avoid a stress hormone build up and keep aware of his surrounds for new threats.

Nock, Draw, Mark, Loose…

The Arrow hit an invisible barrier…Recall…Recall…Frell.

The Cutter swung in hard, a ramp lowered at the back.  Bow to the side Valens poured lighting on the craft, the tingle not just in his hands, not even his torso – his whole body felt numb as the energy flowed out. 

But something diverted the flow…

Two figures leapt from the ramp.  Tattooed, primitive looking but aether filled armour…one like an ancient Reitarius with net and energy trident, the other a double-vibroblade.

“Get inside!” Lyr had never moved so fast as despite Valens attempts to buffet them telekinetically they landed on the APC. 

The Reitarius – a Dathomiri thrust and threw his net while other flourished to keep Valens quickly raised sabre occupied. A desperate twist and blast sent the net flying as the fight truly began.

Quick, precise foot work on the APC’s uneven top, the vibro blade sliced through the turret Valens tried to keep between them, the Reitarius took the higher ground on the cabin as he tried Soryu’s Djem-So variant perfected with Kimar’s Makashi mid stances. 

Their blows were fast and precise, they aimed to amputate at the knee and elbow joints, the edges of the Blackstone plating near the joints were quickly painted with cuts and scrapes, sparks flashing off as the telekinetic push and pull tried to toss him from the vehicle.

The cutter was coming around - the high blow scraped his chest plate, Another gunship was coming in from behind – he locked blades with the dual-wielder who turned into a sweep hammering his shin plate – something else was on the edge of his senses…coming silent, angry, deep

Into the Reitarius attack he took a cut to the face to land an elbow, ribs cracked wet and hard.  The Trident’s staff was hauled over Valens head and pressed into his neck choking him.  But something else was…

The Dathomriri hauled Valens excessive weight around with all his strength to take the blow.

<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack

“Ho’Li” he whispered against the wind his face, cheek tight to the RPG cylindrical barrel, eye pressed into the range finder as a Night brother chocking Valens turned him round to face the RPG offering the perfect shot to kill the murderer.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

White-yellow bloomed against the hastily raised telekinetic shield around his head.  His blood already heated from battle turned to rivers of flames as the armour cooked his skin like an oven.

The cutter blasted the front of the APC with heavy Ion in the same instant.  The Dathomiri leapt off as Valens flew in bouncing painful tumult as the momentum of the APC was instantly cut off.

Muscle and bone were shaken in the blender of the crash.  He really needed to…

Rolling out of the blades strike he reached for a combat knife that wasn’t there.

He no longer felt any pain – Aephrodaea’s Mercy as the Guardians called this state was upon him – all sensation dead as the body overloaded with damage.

Sweeping out from the strikes he spared a thought to confirm Sofa was alive.  He stumbled backward trying to regain footing, reaching out to summon whatever weapon he could, half the turrets pintle came it to clash on the Dathomiri trident as they resumed their attack, now joined by a third.     

He swung wildly, dropping the metal mid swing to dive into a tackle, the random move took one off his feet, Valens grasped both knees and squeezed with all the strength his designers had given.

The screams volume was only exceeded by the extra intensity the others now struck with. 

Unarmed his gauntlets and shin took the blows…but…Mak’Tor…

He paid a slice into his hip joint to grasp the Reitarius shoulder, vice grip popped the shoulder as Valens spun the body round and kicked into its back sending it into the air –straight into the path of….

<<<<>>>

Jo’Set’Mack
“FRELL” The second missile struck the flying Dathomiri, chunks of burnt meat dropping everywhere.

“MOVE!” he yelled.  The Mak’Tor charged – Old Cam with his heavy blue, An’ne’Rae Master of Blades with orange sabre and shoto, Jo his own blue whilst Hri and Su-Zi opened fire with their repeaters.

The last Dathomiri fought a losing battle against the better armoured and still faster opponent – a green sabre arrived in Valens hand, the Dathomiri’s head was gone an instant later, followed by a stomp on the knee-capped ones neck.

Cam took the flood of lighting on his blade as Jo and Anne engaged. 

Blue Orange and Green all became white in the flurry as Hri and Su-zi moved to support with healing flows and telekinesis.  They had him - they had the bastard – and he’d have revenge for Ho’Li…

No…Justice…a Mak’tor sought Justice.

<<<<>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #141 on: November 17, 2018, 12:32:22 PM »

Chapter 32 — Limitations — No Rest for the Wicked

Part 3

Seiton
If you want a job done right…

He hauled up the neuro-disruptor rifle as the wind burned his face, the Lycan speeding to the crash zone.
Seiton knew his Lightsabre combat…and in the conflagration below the target was getting worn to pieces, his guard picked apart clinically by the orange sabred woman, offering the much less capable Blue bladed warriors openings that only supernatural speed – even for Jedi – that the target possessed enabled him to reduce to scores on his armour rather than severed limbs.

The problem was they were fighting to kill…Seiton was a professional – contract said alive, Alive it was.

<<<<>>>

Valens

They had him…five fresh Mak’Tor…the orange bladed woman was the real danger, her precision was exceptional and burning his remaining energy to parry. 

He couldn’t feel his exhaustion for the pain supressing hormones, at some point his limbs would simply stop responding, the aether was already sluggish and slow, the telekinetic grips to his arms slowing his motions to nearly Jedi Master average – for Valens this was dawdling.

Another Gunship was starting to circle…another deep gouge to his pauldron…his mind swimming as he kept his ship steady…calculating vectors….

<<<<>>>

Jo’Set’Mack

“AIIIEE” Su-Zi screamed and flopped to the ground convulsing as blue arcs tangled her body…the gunship was firing on all of them.

“NO!!!!!” primal fury erupted, they were so close

Hri fell next to the concentrated neuro-disrupter fire. Valens punished the distraction, catching Cam’s wrist and squeezing till it popped…

“NO!” Jo hammered a heavy blow against the Murderer of Odjina

“NO!” Anne kept his sabre occupied as he just missed- JUST MISSED – his face

“NO!” Valens took Anne’s stab under the shoulder to get in her guard and ram his fist into her gut – Song steel falling away against the shatter-point precision blow.

Anne screamed something his rage couldn’t hear…lighting arced along Valens battered body…

<<<<>>>

Valens

Last Trick…

He blasted out all the free energy he could into an explosion of lighting as the Lyssia he had been piloting mentally at the price of an entire level of consciousness for the whole fight finally lobbed the Sonic EMP overhead, its magnetic accelerator cannons blasting the gunship to pieces as the last few Crimson Nova leapt out.

The Mak’tor pulled on the aether to divert the lighting…

Valens push turned to pull and counter push creating a null field as the Space Warfare grade Sonic EMP detonated above.

With a resonant pulse every electronic device within 30KM insulated with anything less than Chiss Black-ops sheaths was disabled.  Air boomed and displaced into a piercing scream that shattered the windows of fourteen blocks of Nimbanel houses.

In the null field the Mak’tor faltered and dropped, hands on bleeding ears as their eyes swam. 

Valens caught only the initial ping before regaining the aether enough to shield himself.

Jo’s hand scraped along the battle churned dirt…

Valens remembered Sofa words on Sinkhole…”NO! Don’t Kill him…for me” her words the only coherent piece of lucid thought beyond survival left to him.

Pushing his knee into the Mak’tors neck till he fell unconscious he obeyed his mate.
 
<<<<>>>>

Lyr

Now he understood his punishment…not the pounding head ache from a sonic boom the Daemon helm barely reduced…not even the dozens of cuts and scrapes from his tumble in the APC.

No…it was to watch the Daemon stalk across the battlefield crushing the life from his attackers, looting their weapons and armour, and worse tearing at their memories as they lay defenceless, till finally satisfied the Daemon lifted them onto the chariot of the damned to ply the abyss once more.

That was his punishment…to be enthralled to the Daemon he had created.  To know that his greed, his willingness to sell other sentients into slavery had awoken the blasphemous creatures of the deep core. 

To look upon his wife and child and know all that had been done to them he had done to others just as innocent. 

Neither the Daemon nor his own family would ever let him forget, nor ever give him rest from his crimes.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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
************

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #142 on: November 19, 2018, 08:31:05 AM »

Wow...

Y'know, just when I think the Aethans are paranoid....  It seems everyone really IS out to get them...

Nicely done.  Layer upon layer.  The trap.  The ambush.  Seiton, a new player?  The Mak'Tor showing up, closing, come so close....   Jo'Set is determined!  And only still alive because Sofa asked Valens not to kill him.

And Valens is only alive because this new hunter, Seiton, has orders to capture them alive.

Amazing how the different pieces of the puzzle weave together to keep everyone going.  The Maker, it seems, in his mercy is still offering Jo'Set opportunities to turn from his sin and repent.  The goddesses aren't quite done with Valens, either. 

And Lyr...  Doomed to forever do penance for his crimes.   Perhaps the most fitting punishment of all.  :-)

This was a wicked combat scene, with all kinds of new elements, different pieces fitting together, and you show us what we need to see.  Well done my friend!
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signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #143 on: November 21, 2018, 02:25:04 AM »

Chapter 33 — Limitations — Escape Velocity
Part 1
***See ends of Chapters 20 and 29 for hints at the 'Dead Ones'***
Lyr
He kept his eyes closed when he could.  Artificial gravity kept him upright and stable despite the churning twist of stars as the Black Ship peeled into evasive manoeuvres. 

He had been tasked with slaving one of their Chiss freighters as the Nimbanel Planetary Militia demanded they power down, on the edge of the scanner two frigates that had a Bounty Hunter look about their sneaky approach vector were closing in.

Beside him the Daemon was burning up.  The ash, dirt and blood on his face was being sluiced into lines as he sweated, a body built for extremes finding itself overstrained attempting to cool itself against the burn of sustained metabolic acceleration.   

One hand on the control handle the other was typing rapid co-ordinates into the navi-computer. They had come out of the atmosphere into a small defence outpost, caught in the midst of confused orders and unusual scan results.

They had tried to sneak past, but just before reaching the edge of the orbitals range its patrolling Flight turned on them.  20% of their shields and four broken Starchasers later they were on their way, but slowed enough for a Militia Frigate and its escort to line up an intercept.

The hammer of Yellow bolts was growing, the Slaved freighter was faring less well down to 30% shields.  The Daemon was reaching the edge of its infernal prowess.
Brought low by a horde of mortals and machines.

Yet even in these depths, there was still more, the fingers stopped typing, the stars and distant moon twisted out of view before the blue streaks of hyperspace tore past.

<<<<>>>>

Valens

Finally…finally he could….

The brief relaxation of his muscles hurt him as he slammed forward into his seat, forehead into the console.

The Lyssia spun uncontrollably as it was rent from pseudomotion unnaturally.
 Blood was in his eyes as he looked across the asteroids field, yanking the dual handed half wheel down to pull up.  Something caught his eye…movement…the asteroid…blooming yellow…what…

“Frell what the…” Lyr exasperated out as one of the asteroids fired a…ball of flaming rock at them. More flew from all around…his aetheric senses were worn but he sensed absolutely noth…

EWRCCCCK

The ship shuddered as the shields were…stripped was the only way to describe it…

His mouth was arid and dehydrated, skin wet with sweat, muscles conflicted between wanting to stop and feeling like to break momentum would be somehow more painful than rolling on.

He rolled the ship into more evasive manoeuvres…or would have, the response was sluggish, dampened…there was nothing on scans…no tractor beam he could detect no enemy he could sense…droids?

Didn’t matter…the Chiss freighters system briefly flickered on his control scan before exploding…hammering the accelerator made no difference…he was being dragged…

He flew out of his seat as they smashed into the asteroid.

Only the fact the Lyssia’s outer hull was made of a far denser material than the attackers had ever expected did it maintain integrity, kicking up tonnes of rock and scraping the equally unknown material beneath.     

<<<<>>>>

How long he was out he wasn’t sure…perhaps thirty seconds...half the main view screen showed submergence in rock and…what…he must be imagining things…it looked like coral.

Scraping…something was outside trying to get in…but how could he hear unless there was a gaseous atmosphere on the asteroid? 

What…

He didn’t have the capacity to think through this…he was at his limit…depleted from weeks of warfare, countless hours of stress…

Sabre lit he tossed the women into the cockpit with Lyr and sealed the door, dragging one of the rifles from the small armoury…

As if pulled by the aether the cargo ramp ripped down…and behind it…

He had never seen being like the ones which assailed him, never faced weapons the like of which felled him.

Cords…creatures…snakes? grasped his arms, sticky substances caught his feet, slicing it in half worsened the situation as though he stimulated mitosis of the…living blob.

It mattered little, the hulking creatures soon hand him trapped. 

His final failure to be brought down by the mental anguish and depletion of past failures he inflicted on himself – failing the present and all possible futures.

The fate of his People he had escaped 20 years before - defeated by an enemy he neither knew, could sense, nor understand, finally caught up to him.   

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #144 on: November 21, 2018, 02:29:55 AM »

Chapter 33 — Limitations — Escape Velocity
Part 2

Sofa
….uuuhhh…

Her eyes blinked painfully adjusting to the light

Not another coma…what was that three quarters of her life under now…

There were funny blue images floating across her eyes….the HUD…her helmet was still on…good she couldn’t have been out for long…

She was on her back staring up at a blue-grey ceiling…she must be back on one of the ships…but frell her back hurt…

She didn’t remember that…she didn’t remember much…

Fighting some maniac Feeorin…then she tried to heal two twi’leks…then…

Sofa was suddenly jolted by something…no not Sofa…the whole room she was in.

Sitting up fast the blood sloshing in her head painfully- she was in the Lyssia Cockpit…why was she still in her amour…surely Valens wasn’t so concerned about her modesty as to deny her the comfort of removing it while she was out cold.

There were noises, cutting, the hum of a sabre, cracking and shrieking…hissing…

The male twi’lek was opposite her covering his family with a heavy blaster…

“You alive!” he squealed

“Ughh…just…”

“Well we’re about to be dead soon…he’s not good…and asteroids that fire burning asteroids ain’t frelling right…”

“Asteroids that…” it didn’t matter…she felt it then…the sudden loss of presence, a drop in the aether as though falling into a puddle of deep ice water…

She didn’t want to move…wanted to fall back into her coma and wake up with Milaea watching over her…

But Milaea was far away…and…upset…troubled…disturbed…Sofa had to get to her…

Blue light filled the cockpit as her sore hands tightened on her sabres hilt.

<<<<>>>>

It was a brilliant opening move, door hissed open -  telekinetic blast down the hall bounding through the passage summoning a few weapons as she passed the weapons lockers, into the hold and then…

Shock…utter shock…

They were hideous, covered in musty looking shell plating, a viscous blob on their faces, bizarre horn like outgrowths on their shoulders and gauntlets…from their…faces…hissing serpents along their arms and grabbing at Valens armour.

And they were…nothing…utterly nothing in the force.

<do-ro’ik vongpratte!> a hideous twisted language vile in her ears came as they charged.


Her hammering aetheric push did nothing but scatter the collection of bodies and armour that littered the hold.

A half dozen small objects were flung at her.

No danger sense emanated only advanced biology allowed her speed to vaporize five of them, the sixth slammed into her shoulder with a popping blast that twisted her torso painfully. 

Once more her inhuman status saved her – her additional weight and surer footing kept her upright as globs of sizzling…venom?...jetted from the serpent creatures mouths toward her.

A battle of mutual incomprehension followed.  Sofa had never seen the like of these creatures, their twisting weapons that tried to grip or spit at her, armour that wriggled as if it were alive, globs of moving jelly thrown at her feet, small insects used to try and slam her like grenades.

Her opponents had never yet faced what would be termed a “Jeedai” their mission thus far had been to observe these creatures on the advice of the infidel they were forced to transact with. 

They wished to take one or more alive for the shapers, but would be satisfied with the corpse. All their training was pushed to the limits, it wove and struck with the speed and ferocity of Yun-Yammaka, its unholy blue projectile weapon tearing chunks from the voduun crab armour, the shimmering blue white blade grazed deeply if not through the shell.

Even if she couldn’t feel or hit them with the aether – she found their null like properties didn’t affect her draw, firming up her flagging strength and letting her grasp the six sabres, a Trident (?What!) and two of the neruo-distruptor rifle about the hold – where did they come from! – the creatures were instantly distracted as orange, blue, green and silver lit all about them, twisted by magicks they could not truly comprehend.

As her blade drove into one of the serpent creatures that seemed insanely resistant to the energy sword, she aimed the other sabres at the joints, unaware the gills resided under the arms she aimed there from simple experience with humanoid armour types. 

Of the four warrior three managed to avoid the levitating weapons, the one locked amphistaff to a lightsabre while the other blades drove up through his underarms into a cauterizing X.

The others circled tossing more of the bugs as she danced away from the moving jellies that splurted to catch her from the floor and ceiling. 

Valens had flopped over, knees bent as the jelly kept his feet on the deck. The initial shock had worn off…they might be dead in the force but were not her match in strength and speed, only their numbers and unique weaponry gave them an edge – but as her combat trained eyes watched their cautious movements and tentative steps she realised she was just as much a novelty to them. 

The brief pause was broken as they struck at the neuro-disruptors while they were still charging, twisting them out of the way she felt every movement in her head painfully as the fatigue scraped her neurons.

There was little choice…her fatigue was more aetheric and mental than physical, closing in under their literally snaking weapons, they cut and thrust, the creatures rigid then lank in the moments between each blow she struck, wearing down the far one while keeping the other two just occupied with her parries. A quick opening let her slide her sabre through the neck, it didn’t decapitate, but the twirling pommel strike shattered whatever skull equivalent it had. 

The others realising their advantage lay elsewhere backed out of the ramp…she wouldn’t let them escape, the first rifle charged she opened fire, the crackling purple grey hammering the creature in the face…the result was…unexpected…the visceral facial covering splattered apart revealing the face of her enemies…a vaguely human skull with taut skin stretched over, littered with what looked like ritual scarring rather than natural features. 

The image didn’t last long, the eyes rolled back as the neuro-disruptor wrecked its nervous system – that meant they had a similar enough nervous system…yet then why couldn’t she sense them in the aether…glean any information from their thoughts?  No time she fired the second disruptor, the third was shattered by another of their insect projectiles. 

Only one left she followed it onto the misty Asteroid…only it wasn’t an asteroid…there were…the divot the Lyissa had cut through revealed…some kind of coral like structure…the rock was a disguise…she must be on some kind of…

A glance up at the starts showed the asteroid was moving…not regular rotation around a star moving – as in thrusters on moving. 

There was no way she was getting stuck on this…WHAT THE FRELL IS THAT!

A bloated mass of green tissue was hovering above as the last warrior retreated toward it…it had a sick looking – mouth and beady black eyes…it was huge the size of a medium freighter. 

A disgusting tentacle like worm issued from its rear, spewing forth bizarre reptilian beings…these she could sense in the force…the eight additional shell armoured warriors behind she could not.

She couldn’t take nine of these things…Stars knew what the reptiles could do…she kept to the edge of the ramp surveying her resources…Valens was out the ship looked…not terrible…she had a few rifles, a Twi’lek…and…bow…

“Lyr…Can you get the ship running!” she called over the comm in her helmet

“Uh…it’s a bit…stuck…in…rocks?”

“Yeah well we need it unstuck…check the integrity!” she summoned the bow and arrows as the reptiles charged into her hail of rifle, arrows and neuro disruptor fire, they didn’t seem to care as their fellows fell, the warriors stoic in their approach.

“Uh..hull is intact…rear ramp door is busted we can close - but it won’t seal for atmosphere…shields are offline…”

“Weapons?” her mouth twitched with the pain of recalling one of the arrows, seeing the black projectile vanish made the warrior she designated ‘Elites’ pause and form up defensively.

“Weap…give me a minute”

Another six of the reptiles dropped under her fire, the low gravity causing the bodies to float off into the thin atmosphere over the false asteroid, curves of blood floating in wide arcs. 

She drew back and launched an arrow at one of the Elites, it threw up a shell like shield, but the ultra-dense bolt tore through and out of its chest.

Good…that’s good…

Their sheer numbers were starting to close in…she gritted her teeth ready for the burn – then slammed out a wide telekinetic wave blasting the aether visible reptiles off the churned rock and coral ground into the jet black star pricked night.

Instantly the Elites fanned out afraid she would use the attack on them – not yet knowing they were immune so such obvious aetheric assaults…

That’s good too!

More insects and acid were launched at her…they seemed conservative in their approach…yet aggressive in their movements…they were on a leash, they wanted –needed - to rush in and overwhelm her but needed to avoid losses – Sofa could only hope that meant their numbers were small as another four of the vicious bugs splattered against her blade. 

They were avoiding the arrows better, dodging the neuro and rifle blasts by moving cover to cover amidst the rocks the Lyssia had cut up.

“OK weapons are good…forward torpedoes tubes…mag cannons…sonic bombs….”

 “Good launch a frelling torpedo!”

“What are you crazy – into the rock!” She didn’t have time to explain – if the Blackstone was strong enough to carve through the rock and coral crashing, a blackstone torpedo would bore like a drill even deeper when fired.

“Just do it!”

She felt a huge shifting mass of resigned obedience pull the trigger followed by the whole asteroid jolting beneath her feet, the aether kept her grounded but the Elites staggered behind cover, her super human senses didn’t miss a beat, an arrow slicing through the side of a face.

More vicious yelling from the Elites…then through the thin atmosphere a screech…something inhuman…animal…bizarre…not of this galaxy…the asteroids movements slowed.

She didn’t need the aether to know they were getting pissed off…

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #145 on: November 21, 2018, 02:33:10 AM »

Chapter 33 — Limitations — Escape Velocity

Part 3

Lyr

This was not good…not good at all…in the view screen he saw the hole the torpedo had punched…and cracking lines running along the calcified wall they were lodge in

“Uh…Daemon lady…you might want to get inside…I think we broke som…”

<<<<>>>>

Sofa

Dodging spits of acid, bugs and a strange attempt to ‘grip’ her almost like telekinesis but with more a sense of…gravity?, she barely rolled back into the ship before it fell. 

The scarred rock and coral cracked and collapsed downward, chunks hammered inside before she could push up a telekinetic wall to bounce them back. 

She bounced up and slammed back into the sealed door to the main corridor which was now the floor, Valens flopped limp still bound to the floor by the jelly – the ramp was straight above her…the ship was pointing down…and three warriors jumped right down, one taking a gratuitous swipe at Valens broken form as he did so, only the blackstone armour saving him.

She was at her limit…the aether was burnt out in her mind now…her body sore and wretched from the strain as though each time she used it she paid with her flesh. 

“Lyr…” she struggled as he dodged a snake weapon that twirled and writhed and sidestepped another as rigid as a spear.

“We got engines?”

“We got…engines….”

“As soon as you can, fire both torpedoes, launch an EMP bomb and hit full reverse thrusters!” A fourth Warrior leered over the edge tossing in more jelly dren. 

Sofa hadn’t come this far to die now…even as the vile creatures cut and chipped her armour down her mind kept working. 

Had she still been human she would’ve been long dead by now…yet if this constant warfare was the price of such divine prowess…she could worry about this later – survive now worry about it later Soryu would say. 

It’s Jedi Master Neirai time…

A brief calming mantra on her lips the flow of information on their technique from her subconscious became less erratic, more laminar as she had been against the Echanni fighting Sith.  She didn’t pull on the aether she just left herself open, letting it flow over her amidst the emptiness of her enemies.

Blue energy parried, deflected – carved. 

Black armoured gauntlets bounced off blows, turned attacks the direction she wanted them, before similarly armoured fists hammered into shell with meaty cracks as the living creature underneath died. 

Feet danced along what was a door and storage rack, knees extending and contracting setting the pace for the rest of her body…feet first she had taught Milaea…get your stance right, firm on the ground then work your way up.

Her enemies were not ignorant of such strategy and maxims, they hammered and struck an increasingly difficult to pin target – they could adapt to her moves but they couldn’t integrate the data she bled with her body as quickly as she could analyse them.

As they began to realise this the outcome became inevitable.  Voddun armour broke and cracked under the elbows and cauterizing cuts, flesh followed, the pain meant nothing to them, but the loss of functionality angered them into pointless frenzy.

Piece by piece she took them apart, till finally she felt a rumble, blue light flooded from above and the ramp began to ratchet up in protests at its damage.  Somewhere beneath her Lyr fired.

The sudden upward movement pinned her to the ‘floor’ as the last Elite dropped lifeless beside her.  The cleared the wreckage littered hole as the sonic-EMP was released and the torpedoes launched down.  The ugly green transport warbled away as the ramp closed but didn’t quite lock.

Reaching down she hammered the door open and let the variegated weapons, armour and bodies drop in as though it were a strange funnel for the litter of dead enemies…only Valens remained fixed in place. 

She leapt up hand over hand on cargo straps around some crates and sliced at the jelly on his feet till it finally burned off dead.  His armoured form dropped, the ship levelled out before he hit the bottom instead he hit the real floor and scrapped along.

“Get the Ship ready to JUMP!” she screamed dragging the heavy form of her lover along…Stars he was heavy…this was why she was always on top!

Sealing the door she bounded past the clutter into the cockpit, Lyr struggling with the controls as something tried to drag them back down.  Ahead two of the ugly green things and moving asteroids were arrayed.   

Lyr knew his place and dived out of the seat back to his unconscious family. She gripped the controls and twisted hard port and flaming rocks were spat at them…the ship rebelled…they must have some kind of interdictor system…tractor beam….like some animal based on the rest of the junk she had found..

The co-ordinates were locked in she just needed a clear path.

“There is no passion there is serenity…” with those words she tore open the Magnetic accelerator cannons upon the green things – blue sheathed grey-sleet projectiles ripped its form apart in blobs of viscera as somewhere behind her the sonic EMP detonated, chunks of rock and coral hammered the Lyssias underside as she sped up. 

The rocky triangle ships were fast but took time between shots, the Lyssia didn’t, she kept eyes on the first gentle twists to stern then down as the first shots connected, whatever she hit seemed to be important as it spiralled out of control.

Hammering back to port on the previous course he flicked the sonic emp and launched another to deter anyone coming up behind.  The second rock fighter managed a glancing hi with it magma like cannon. This was it she had this…not a targeting lock…but a scanning lock she knew what they looked like on scanners now…their disadvantage corrected, their big fake asteroid pummelled from within…the last few fighters didn’t stand a chance. 


She didn’t need the aether to pilot better than these things, the Lyssia was more than fast enough, their strange weapons gripped and tore at her shields, it didn’t matter if they couldn’t land a hit. Spiralling she took the remaining two fighters in cascades of blue projectiles. 

A burden on her mind…a thin danger sense lifted for a moment she dared not waste, pushing the lever to enter hyperspace forward. 

She had survived…just…they couldn’t take any more than this…

Sofa wasn’t sure she could take any more full stop.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #146 on: November 29, 2018, 12:10:55 AM »

Chapter 34 — Limitations — History Repeating
Part 1

Sofa
History Repeats

Valens unconscious and injured, Sofa worn and tired after surviving an ambush – after Sinkhole – after Nimban….

She had hooked him up to some drips once again – all too familiar with his spread of veins and the heavy push needed to pierce the resistant genehanced skin.

History Repeats

Another planet, another battle, another scrape to survive – everywhere they went blood and death was waiting and following.  How long until it was their own that finally caught them

She could only hope nothing happened on Chalacta, that it stayed a boring mid-rim world while they recovered before heading to Station 7 on Vulpter.

History Repeats

She had stayed with the Jedi - despite the danger, despite the restrictions, despite her desire to make her own life free of violence and fear – because she loved Milaea and Valens too much to leave. 

Now she was hunted, feeling even more unsafe, her goal of her own family and home more distant now than ever…She had chosen them to get away from this kind of life…yet now at an even greater price to her sanity and safety – history was repeating

She hefted one for eight corpses from Nimban and the Asteroid – one of the ‘Elites’ into a freezer crate designed to transport meats she had bought at the Spaceport quartermasters.

“Hello!” an excited high pitched voice called out behind her.

History Repeats

A Twi’lek mother and child caught in the middle of a war between Gods and Monsters, Angels and Demons – as it had been since before Exar Kun – when force sensitives and aether warriors wage war, it was those blind to these eldritch powers that suffer the most.

Nxi looked at the last of the broken bodies still to be stored, no doubt the Chiss would love the new samples of Crimson Nova and ‘Elite’ armour and weapons

“Him got boo boos?”

“Him got big boo boos” Sofa tried to smile as the little girl looked around the room.

A final heft plonked the body in, a hiss sealed the crate.

“I’m Nxi!” she said excitedly licking a nutrient bar before looking around the hold, “Have you seen my wampa Bli-bli…”

History Repeats

An innocent little girl lost the garden of evil…too much like herself…like Milaea…Sofa had done everything she could to protect her, prevent that sweet girl from having to tread the same paths – as Sofa reached out she felt the dark pall covering her sister, friend, apprentice…once again Milaea was forced into choices and actions she couldn’t live with – and Sofa was once more too far away to help her – history repeats.

“Your wampa…no…not around here…” the chance of her ever finding her wampa was terribly low…

“Maybe it went back to Hoth to find its friends?” Sofa replied hopefully.

Nxi seemed unsure as her little mind processed the idea “Maybe…”

The trepidation in her voice reminded Sofa that not that long ago she had basically been dead…poor child…Sofa didn’t regret reviving her even if she now knew it had left Valens hideously outnumbered.  What was the point she had said, of their power if they couldn’t help a mother and child so hideously abused.

“There you are…you shouldn’t wander off like that…” Lyr came in and hefted her up

“Is her mother alright…” Sofa inquired

“She’s still asleep…” He shifted uncomfortably “Probably needs to see a doctor…” meaning she was likely beyond conventional medicine abilities to assist.

“I’ll go…see what I can do…”

<<<<>>>>

As tired as she felt, she was paranoid that if she went to sleep she wouldn’t wake up again…she’d had enough of coma’s to last a life time.  At best she could rest cycle parts of her brain.

That left her somewhat grouchy and irritable…but she still had to…history repeats…talk openly with Valens.

Sealing the cabin door she sat on the bed beside him.

“I asked you a day ago will this ever be over…no not a day ago, eight sith, Crimson Nova, Nightbrothers, Mak’Tor and whatever the hell those other things were ago!”

Her legs spread she slouched in the gap.

“This is my limit…I don’t want this I can’t do this…I chose to start a new life away from the Jedi, the violence the worry - I thought we would have a semi normal life on your little planet…not to get hunted by half –no three quarters of the galaxy!”

“I can’t – I won’t live like this – I don’t feel safe, I don’t feel optimistic…I feel like…”

History Repeats – she wants to leave the situation but is too attached to the people indelibly in it…she stared at her hands, fingers moving so swiftly and precisely with bio-mechanical perfection

“…like I made a massive mistake choosing this.”

The words spoken she flopped back onto the bed, finally free of her armour she wanted as little on her skin as possible after so long in it…the crisp Chiss fabrics held in the warmth leaching off the healing form beside her…

Burying her face in the blankets she let herself dissolve into sleep.

<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack
They hadn’t had any option…Jo might’ve objected…but compared to the alternative he wasn’t going to complain.

Li paced in front of them, fury bleeding off her as her honour guard held their sabres alight beside her.

“Are you insane…” she whispered

“ARE YOU INSANE” she yelled into Jo’s face

“Because if you are then maybe this disaster is explicable!”

Jo had woken, battered, head screaming in a Nimbanel jail, his wounds only partially tended to, An’ne had managed to ‘convince’ a guard to contact M’Tzigon, Li had been gracious enough to post bail.

“I told you…” she paused

“No…your OATHS tell you not to seek vengeance…not to imperil innocents…and you…” she shook her fist in their air

“You…you’re all stripped of your ranks, not even probation, gone out,” this was not very ‘Kage’ like language showing the depth of her anger.

“We almost had him…” Jo whispered…the force turned brutal at the mistake of speaking

“Sorry I can’t remember giving you permission to SPEAK PRISONER 4453 wanted in connection with destroying a mansion, littering five ships across Nimban, nearly 400 million credits in damage and 23 deaths!.”

Frell it - he was already in the hole…

“That was Valens, some bounty hunters got in the way, we nearly killed him, he set off some bomb,”

“Dren…Anne said herself he’d taken out Cam,” Lee pointed at Anne’s bandaged midriff – “and broke two of her ribs with one punch…”

Li shook her head remembering Soryu’s words about Valens and his ilk “resistance is not just futile…it’s suicidal…”

“If this Valens killed Odjina, our greatest, singer, greatest warrior since Dorian himself…in what universe could you beat a man like that?” she snapped at Jo

“So what we just let him off the hook for Murder, for Ho’Li?”

“We need to LIVE,” She bit back, “We need to rebuild…recover…heal, not add to the pain and trauma with vendettas…and you Anne…” she turned her attention

“Master of blades…I’m especially disappointed in you…you’re meant to set an example…what example is this,”

“Not a cowardly one…” Anne seethed in reply

“Coward…” Li nodded, “Fine I’ll take that…lots of dead braves out there…you want to join them? You want to go after him again…we’ll drop you at the next port…good luck getting those bones set with no credits.”

Li sighed and leaned against the door as they felt the jolt into hyperspace.

“I’m over this…you’re all idiots…”
<<<<>>>>

Valens
Twisting…slithering weapons…living armour…what was it…The Mak’Tor what were they doing here! Damn Bimm….that creature…how did it end up in the Maw…who trapped it there…Kimar…he has to be dealt with – Jarys they’ll kill him if I don’t act now...Odjina you dare touch her…poor girl…it’s not her fault, she wasn’t ready for this too confused too young…now it’s too late…Shilea…Cilinia…not both…he should’ve strayed with her…

He gasped coming out of the half dream, the roller coaster of fluid thoughts.  Vague words streamed into his mind as he looked down to the jet black mess of hair sprawled over cool white skin.

He had no answers to her questions that were any more than self-justification, nothing she would really be satisfied with.

“Ugggghhh…” Sofa groaned awakening. He was tempted to reach out to her…but given what she had said before…

“My…everything….hurts….”  She shifted about uncomfortably “Why do I feel so turned on though….”

Taking the conversational opening he replied “Aephrodaesin builds up while you sleep…– makes women want to…you know….every time you wake up…boosts the population…”

“You’re biology is frelled up…literally…”

“Are you feeling better?”

“What did I just say?” she snapped sitting up…”this sucks and I’m sick of it…are you trying to start a war with the Galaxy…”

He was about to reply when she interrupted

“Don’t say it…I know they started it…I don’t want to hear it…They hit you, you hit them…like children…didn’t Yoda ever teach you “Hit Me he did, Struck me he has…if into this cycle one becomes trapped - hatred ceases does not!”

He sniggered at her imitation, even if it was overly simplistic

“I listened…I also learned that some people can’t be negotiated with…some enemies must be crippled beyond retaliation…”

“Fine job you’re doing of that…” she reached out to flick the drip as he pulled it out of his arm, the small drop of blood quickly healing over.

“Don’t you get that…blowing stuff up…wiping out entire cults, killing Jedi Masters – you’re whole Super Powered Aethan Warrior thing…”  She paused to gather up her thoughts into her most Jedi Master tone of voice

“Strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe.”

He dipped his head,

“I know…” their power stimulated desire – Outsiders would always seek to control and manipulate the People – they had to resist such exploitation – but in doing so they made themselves more a target.

“I won’t live like that…afraid, wading through blood for every second of false peace…” She went on

“And you think I want to?”

“I’m starting to wonder…history keeps repeating…everywhere you go …disaster follows…I don’t want to leave you and Mili…but if this continues – for my own safety and sanity there won’t be any choice”

He felt quite hurt at the suggestion and threat…he couldn’t blame her though

“I want to feel safe just as much as you do…to have a…” he could barely say it for the pain of the one he had already all but lost…

“…a family…but till they stop trying to attack and exploit us…I don’t know what else to do but hit them back…”

“And history repeats, they hit you, you hit back twice as hard, and even more people see your potential…want to exploit you even more…” She looked right into eyes

“When does it end for you – because honestly…this is it for me.”

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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."

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #147 on: November 29, 2018, 12:16:00 AM »

Chapter 34 — Limitations — History Repeating
Part 2

Sofa
History repeats – just like after sinkhole he was afraid to lose her but couldn’t promise any of the changes she needed.  How many more times did this scene have to play out before one of them yielded?

“When Xithar is gone and the clones are…”

She shook her head cutting him off

“How long till the next crisis after that, and after that…I can’t see this ending.” They were going in circles.

Sofa understood they hadn’t gone out looking for Xithar to steal their babies…but she also knew she couldn’t live afraid someone like him would come for her children one day – and with the Jedi more militant than ever after Coruscant’s Night of Madness…

“This has to be it…this is the last chance, I can feel something is wrong with Mili and I won’t leave her behind…but once this Xithar guy is spaced things need to change or I’m gone, I’m not going to repeat the mistake I made with the Jedi and stick around waiting for something to change.”

He could only really nod a concession.

“I’m sticking around because I still have some hope that like your brother keeps saying this could be a time for us to live our lives…but when that hope is gone…”

<<<<>>>>

“I don’t wanna go to sleep!”  Nxi protested sitting on the bed beside the still unconscious Churi

“I want Bli Bli!”

“We’ll find your wampa once you’re in bed…” Lyr attempt to console

“Why won’t mummy wake up? I want a story!”

The Chalactan ambulance was just outside the ship waiting to take them away, a few credit transfers and Aetheric suggestion guaranteed the Doctors would take excellent care of them.  Nxi might be awake but she was not in good condition – based on Valens assessment both Twi’leks would need complete blood transfusions and a course of bacta therapy to truly recover. 

Valens knelt down in front of the little girl – holding his arms out he extended just his index fingers, one in front of each of her eyes.

“Here how about a song…Two little gobrils sitting in a tree – one gobril said you can’t catch me…”  he moved his hands, fingers still out, rapidly past each other - left over right, right over left

“Now how many gobrils do you see?”

Poor little Nxi’s eyes went one way as her head went the other trying to count the rapidly moving blur of fingers

“Wun…too…free…five…seben…six….six….six….”

It was a curious thing to see Valens playing with a child…much more so with Sofa now knowing whose child she was.  Her lekku twitched as she fell softly backward into Lyrs lap asleep entranced by the motion.

“We’ll need to wipe their memories…Nxi has subconsciously repressed hers…but eventually she’ll remember if we don’t remove them completely…”

Sofa and Lyr nodded…remembering being tortured and crucified would not help their recovery.

“For now…their brains are still too weak for that kind of work…” Valens paused.

“If we don’t come back for you…go to Dantooine, Master Nagasa at the Enclave will know how to help.”

“You planning on vanishing?” Lyr inquired his sense of humour seemingly recovering

“No…but others might want me to…”

“Xithar….” Lyr sneered “…make him suffer…”

Valens didn’t reply, merely going to usher in the waiting Ambulance officers.

Sofa watched the strange spectacle – she hadn’t known who Lyr actually was until Valens had started delving his memoires…though Lyr was responsible for the slaver attack that decimated the People, Valens let him live, got him out of a few debts he owed to the Hutts, gave him a freed slave as a bride and now helped his daughter.  It was the side of Valens that made her so proud to be with him.

“…and no expense is to be spared,” his voice came layered with the aether as he turned the Chalactan Doctor into a zealot for the recovery of the Twi’lek family.
 
Valens handed over a credit chit

“2 million is more than enough for the treatment required…donate any excess to medical research.”

They swiftly prepared the bodies, lifted them onto the anti-grav gurneys and hauled them out, leaving the three of them alone.

“You have all you need,” Lyr pointed to his own head

“Enough,” Valens replied

The Twi’lek seemed a little mystified he was getting let off so lightly after losing 20 clones…Sofa understood something about the People then – violence and punishment were only employed only when it achieved aims better than alternatives - punishing Lyr achieved nothing, keeping him and his family alive kept a resource…On the flip side when someone could not be used….

“Take care of your family…” Valens ordered dismissing him - There was a lot of Yoda’s influence in how he dealt with Lyr…hate the crime but still reward the criminal for good behaviour - tempered with a little aetheric manipulation just as Yoda might use a subtle mind-trick. 

Lyr nodded briefly and wandered out.

Demagol…Sicara…” Valens said to himself – though Lyr had been only partially conscious at the time, Valens programming made his mind a virtual holo-vid recorder allowing them to extract details form conversations when they thought Lyr was unconscious.

“We have to meet up with Milaea,” Sofa said “I can feel she’s in trouble…” he flicked out a link-orb and she pushed into it with her mind…Milaea was non responsive…busy…angry…sad…moving quickly – likely in hyperspace

“We need to get to her now,” she insisted

She felt a deference in the aether – once more he wanted her to take the lead – she couldn’t decide if this was a cynical attempt to draw her into their People more deeply after threatening to leave…or a genuine concession she was better placed to work out what to do next than he was. 

“…but we need more time to recover we’ve both hit our limits…12 Hours…enough time to finish repairs, eat and get some sleep…after getting yanked out hyperspace last time we shouldn’t sleep on the ship at the same time…” as much as she wanted to get to Milaea – she would be no use to her fatigued. 

“…and contact the girls, have them look into this Demagol and Sicara…” checking her Chrono with her eyes and her hormone balances aetherically trying to recall Kiraea’s subconscious lessons…she didn’t necessarily feel that inclined emotionally, but physically the hormone releases rebalancing would speed their recovery. 

Focusing on Valens cute little song for Nxi, and the paternal care he checked her medical status with she stirred up her pheromones.

“Finish the repairs,” that wouldn’t take long – the Elites weird coral was no match for ultra-dense Blackstone –

“Then come back here and we’ll…reset our hormone levels,” sounded terribly clinical…but as the situation demands…and it didn’t mean she wouldn’t enjoy it. 

At least that part of history always repeated to her favour.
 
<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack
He was trapped.

Trapped by his own limitations, his comparatively pathetic body, only just above average strength in the force for a Maenowan – barely a blip on a comparative chart with his enemy.

Trapped by his desire – no need for vengeance, justice, blood, whatever he wanted to call it. Both defeats only added wounded pride to the outrage of his sister and masters murder, chaining him more tightly to the need to prove he was better than that…thing

Trapped by his love for Ha-Ona, wishing to be there for here yet knowing he was poison because of those other manacles upon his very soul.

And finally trapped physically in a neat, clean and warm but no less secure and unyielding cell in the M’Tzigon military prison.

History had repeated on him, twice he had had Valens weak and distracted, twice the monster had still smacked him down.  What does it take to destroy a monster like that?

“A Demon” he whispered out loud the thought from nowhere.

Li would do nothing…he was tempted to call for her resignation as a traitor, or dereliction of duty or something…but all the cowards on M’Tzigon would rally behind her.  She was wilfully blind to the fact sooner or later history would repeat and Valens would come to finish the job under some friendly guise…probably offering a truce.

Jo had no doubt while he was trapped in a cell Valens was plotting his next strike against the Mak’Tor…

His heart suddenly dropped – had he - by going after Valens - perhaps stoked his rage further? Put Ha’Ona at more risk by trying to reduce it…

No …no Valens was the insatiable monster off eating children and killing police.

He tossed a ball across the cell, the familiar double bounce before catching his only entertainment till Li graced him with a visit. 

History Repeating, if she would do nothing it was up to him…maybe Valens was past his ability to beat, and Li was right probably beyond the ability of any Mak’Tor…

Short of hitting him face first with a turbo laser….the psycho would probably shrug that off too…

Jo had to look elsewhere for weapons, men, tactics.

He glanced out the transparisteel front of the cell to the patrolling Military Police – there was still no proper facility on M’Tzigon to hold force sensitive prisoners so he was shoved in this maximum security wing of which he was one of only three occupants. 

Another double bounce and catch, irritating the Koawan set to guard his cell as history repeated with the impacts.

Jo was already on the outer, past the point of no return. 

He might as well go all the way.

Banging on the transparisteel, the Koawan tentatively looked in.

“Call the Kage, tell her I demand the Right to Trial by Combat!”

<<<<>>>>
Logged

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
************

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #148 on: November 29, 2018, 03:36:29 PM »

“Strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe.”


Dude...    You just quoted Vision....   ;-)
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Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #149 on: November 29, 2018, 06:50:56 PM »

*shakes head*  Poor Jo'Set.  So trapped by his need for vengence.   It must be a ... family trait ...   

*blink*
*blink*

Um....

*runs*
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Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

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