Fate of the Aether

[Lord_S_Gray]

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


Dude...    You just quoted Vision....   ;-)

Yeah well if someone else says what you're thinking better than you can why not!  It is a very kind of 'Jedi' thing that I could imagine Sofa surmising...and its true as the next chapter will show their power is blessing and curse that makes conflict inevitable...

[Karmack]

Yeah well if someone else says what you're thinking better than you can why not!  It is a very kind of 'Jedi' thing that I could imagine Sofa surmising...and its true as the next chapter will show their power is blessing and curse that makes conflict inevitable...

True enough.  NOt unlike the Avengers...   :-)

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 35 — Limitations — Transcending

Part 1

Kiraea

They dropped out of hyperspace earlier than she anticipated, Jarys seemingly anxious about something.

“Where are we?” Kiraea demanded gazing at the passive scan readouts of the small moon ahead.

“There is something…I left behind there…I never thought to return but…”
Something about this pained him, running her fingers through his neck length dark hair she tried to soothe him.
“…but now there is hope.”

<<<<>>>>

**See Legacy of the Aether Chapter 2 for ‘Kassyndra’***

Despite the breathable atmosphere they wore their suits trudging past an abandoned mine, the windless moon keep the traces of footprints and blood in ash grey dirt from the battle that had ended the place, bodies still littered the ground stripped of any valuables.

They went some distance into a cluster of rocks, a half sealed abandoned mine shaft, Jarys carrying a stretcher and Chiss field surgery kit.

Kiraea could not fathom what they were here for, Jarys seemed unusually closed off…she could press but felt it would be impolite….for the moment.

Into the dry caverns he traced a path he never expected to follow again, and there just where he had left it was the jerry-rigged freezer container.  Kiraea could not believe what was in there.

“That’s…Kassyndra from the Mountain Village….” She was alive, barely, frozen and in a coma…and her….her eyes…were long since gone.

“We found her here just before…” he struggled to explain this to her but had to confess,

“She asked me formally to end her life, end her suffering, Sel and Maes were there but I didn’t…I couldn’t do it…I tricked them, made them think she was cremated, planted the idea in their minds, took her unconscious body and pieced together this to store her,”

She didn’t need to prompt further explanation, it came in torrents

“There was no future, her body ravaged, her daughters dead, it was before I knew you and Valens were alive, I didn’t even know Milaea existed, Kassyndra suspected but couldn’t confirm it…I thought all that was left was Sel, Maes and me, with no way home, no future, no hope…still I couldn’t do it…instead of fulfilling my duty I left her here, I suppose I hoped eventually the power would die on the freezer and she would succumb naturally…but now…”

Kiraea nodded as he knelt down, she covered him with her on body, unhappy their bulky armour stood between their skin,

“…now there is hope…Now we have the powers, the knowledge to heal her, a home for her to return to, a granddaughter for her to look after…” her own face was becoming drawn in sadness

“You had none of that then…” she stroked her hand across the metal container, sensing the thin wisps of life still within, this was cause for celebration…and yet…

“This is a serious transgression,” Kiraea began pulling away from her mate and adopted her formal tone,

“You denied her choice, rejected her right to choose to end her pain…and you deceived two People, caused them great grief…consciously and wilfully failed in your role as a Guardian.”

He remained kneeling, only a Guardian could pass sentence on another Guardian, whatever her punishment he had to abide by it.

“Your reasons…I can feel were to preserve life…you were sick of killing and did not want to add one of the People to that number, even though it was your Goddess given duty to assist her….” 

Kiraea stretched out her hand over him in a quandary as to a fitting punishment…he might be her mate but she would not breach her duty as he had…and there were serious mitigating factors – the issues they were forced to deal with in this galaxy were beyond the what their training had prepared them for – whether he had failed or simply transcended the limitations of their rules to meet new challenges was a question that needed to be considered in depth at a later time. 

“I pronounce your sentence, You are exiled from the Valley, Ostracised from all currently within it….”

A thin smile payed on her face, before the Devastation, that was serious, only the dead lands lay beyond the Valley in which all People lived, it was permitted they could go out to help them in the dead lands hence only those within the valley were forbidden to speak to him.  But now, they had a galaxy to wander in outside the Valley making the punishment all but pointless – so she would need an extra sting to make it count.

“You failed in your duty because you disdained death, denied a woman’s right to choose her fate…so your choice will be taken from you that you might learn the pain you inflicted…You will remain exiled until you have slain 1000 enemies since your transgression.”

Lighting flickered from her finger tips and encased him, tingling his skin…’since your transgression’ meant all the enemies he had slain since he had left Kassyndra here counted toward the body count…his remaining target only 952.

“Red Eyes of the Goddess will watch your steps…the Ladies vengeance will fall upon you if you transgress your exile!”

His body seized with pain as she clamped down on his defenceless form sealing her judgement. Thin wisps of smoke rose in the still of the mine. 

A weight lifted from his shoulders, a secret crime done in the depths of despair, when there was nothing to live for gone at last.

The last time he had been in this cavern he had nothing, no future, no hope, now he had a daughter, a mate, his brother and his People. Now he had a Life.

“Now that’s done let’s get her onto the Karintha,” Kiraea ordered as he was already setting to work preparing the drips and oxygen mask, they would keep her comatose with a specially made Totem till they could return her home, fill her with enough nutrients to serve as raw material to regrow her eyes then aetherically revitalize her.

“I’m still angry with you…” Kiraea noted as he gently lifted the older woman’s body,

“You shouldn’t keep secrets from me…EVER!”

“I know…I’m sorry Kiraea…” he said softly

“…Alright but you’ll need to make up for that as well…” she pressed up behind him and whispered the next part in the aether.

<I have a list of 99 very sacred Rites…satisfy me on all of them…then I’ll forgive you for hiding things from me!>

<<<<>>>>

Xithar

As the scattered footage from Nimban petered out Xithar had to admit it was impressive…to survive that kind of punishment, even at the cost of Xithars mansion and eight of his ‘disciples’ including poor little Himdul the Bimm and then defeating the Dark Ones was a feat to be celebrated. 

Valens was clearly a killing machine, without any doubt well beyond Xithars ability to defeat one on one – two on one even....overwhelming numbers and meticulous traps were the only option…but now Xithar was short of that too.

Only Uvex and Sicara were left of his once eleven strong group of sub-apprentices.  And even the Dark Ones had taken a hit outside Nimban.  Uvex was tasked to destroy Vectivus, though Xithar hoped he crossed paths with Milaea…

The Jedi were still happily following the wild porg chase that was the Ubese – yet their new leader Oma concerned him, Xithar had not anticipated Yoda falling on his sword, nor the ease with which the others had fallen into line with Oma’s militancy.

But this too would serve him in time…he just needed to find a way to make it so – to touch just the right nerves at the right time….
 
“Everything is in readiness master…” the Siniteen noted from above drawing him from this thoughts.

The deck was covered in wispy frost, before him the device loomed, a large central bulb of blue liquid connected to nine smaller bulbs. It had taken all Sicara’s resources, almost all of Xithars wyrms brought from Ord Mirit and Almas fortress - stimulated into mitosis to create linked pairs for the procedures second phase.  And beside them the final piece to counter the weaknesses of a Force based connection – the vilips of the Dark ones.

The last ten clones floated silently in the bulbs…one in the centre, the strongest the others in their now connected floating worlds all about.  Xithar licked his lips in anticipation…he had failed with the first five clones, made a decent effort with Uvex…now…now he was on the verge.

He had seen, felt…smelt Her in the flesh, watched her every move, trembled before the smooth beat of Milaea’s heart, the light touch of deep Force within – he finally understood where he had gone wrong previously with his Alchemy.

He had been so close…painfully close – yet infinitely far in his experimentation.  Now finally he knew how Godhood should FEEL.  How form facilitated function, how function informed form.

Now he could create not just Monsters – but Gods.

<<<<>>>>

“Initiating”

The cold of the Demagols main laboratory was nothing compared to the pain as over two dozen wyrms bit into Xithars skin. The generators about whirled drawing power from all across Sicara’s vast research vessel. The ship was named Demagol after an ancient Mandalorian scientist of sorts…indeed it was a Mando’a insult – demagolka – one who commits atrocities…ah there were no atrocities in the service of science and knowledge surely.

For this was a divine thing to seek by knowledge to transcend the limitations that bound one to one body, to limited resources, to be truly free of all constraints!

He felt the poison leach into his blood as the device ahead began twitching.  It had been constructed at great expense in so short a time, Valens and Milaea were simply getting too close to delay.  He trusted in the darkside for his success.

The fear, the pain, the fuel of a thousand victims over the decades leached into him from the Wyrms, they pushed out all their energy trying to consume him…Xithar knew how to deal with the attempt, he took the energy into him rather than let it burn, a transference rather than assault.  Still he had never dealt with so many at once, half a dozen at most, now he was absorbing four times that. 

His body tingled, left foot started to twitch as the mechanical power painfully moved toward the ready state.  His eyes began to flicker as pent up energy coursed in his muscles.

“First Stage complete,”

Finally he unleashed his energy as the husks of the weaker wyrms dropped off, their life force spent to power his will, a final act of dominance over the creatures.  Red, purple, blue, all colours flowed from his fingers as he quickened the centre clone and liquefied the others.

It trembled and thrashed in the nutrient fluids, then opened its mouth wide as the raw materials – baryonic and force based - from the other nine flowed into its mouth fuelling its physical growth.  More wyrms dropped off as he poured all he could into the now pre-teen body, it was thrashing in pain and pleasure at the accelerated growth, bubbling the milk red liquid it now swam in. 

“Reserve 1 depleted…” Sicara called over to his indifferent ears.  They had 3 vats of nutrient fluids to feed it, it was barely a teenage body now, he feared it would not be enough.

He had lost all feeling in his hands, the skin was peeling under the flow of energy as he created life. 

It began to truly blossom within, the muscles pushed against skin that barely kept up growth to contain them, hair lengthened and curled around its slowly inflating breasts.

“Reserve 2 Depleted” Its mouth was maw sucking in all it could, desperate to feed as the last dregs of the other nine vanished into its throat.  Scrubber devices darted into to begin clearing away the waste it was freely exuding at its unnatural development, followed by a suction device that attached uncomfortably to its now more or less stable size groin to suck up all future refuse.

“Reserve 3…50%”

He had only the sensation of his eyes now…everything else was as dead as the wyrms. Yet this was intentional, part of the process.  His dominance be complete as he lost all control.

“25%” the pool in which it existed began to dry at the top, the mouth searching through a forest of overly long brown-red hair to lap up every drop of protein.

“5%!” Sicara called out.

A little more a little more…

The body flopped wet and writhing to the now empty floor of its containment bubble, moments later Xithar followed it into darkness..

<<<<>>>>

He gazed upon his work…immaculate…pristine…perfect…

Even for all the short cuts and imperfect methods that had to be used to create it in such a short time frame…still it was greater than he dreamed…

He recalled the ancient poem The Fran’Steyn by Shel-ley -

“A new species would bless me as its creator and source; many happy and excellent natures would owe their being to me. No father could claim the gratitude of his child so completely as I should deserve theirs.”-

Such had been the words when such a thing as he had done was seen as outlandish…impossible…the author of that text had known nothing of microbiology, genetics, let alone Sith Alchemy.

Sicara stood to the side checking the various signals and waves…but Xithar knew it was ready.

His body was still numb, his mind the only thing operational.  Such a state of weakness was not anathema as other Sith might think, for Xithars Dominance over Sicara was complete. 

He lay upon the altar beside his creation, his angel – as the Zealots of the First Night attached the linked wyrms and vilips – split by Sith alchemy each moved with one force presence across two bodies – once complete so too would he.

This was the solution to the faults of the line of Bane – to become his own apprentice, to make himself two bodies with one will, let Uvex, Milaea and Vectivus destroy each other, he had transcended them all.  His Dream could now be realized - One Sith across a thousand forms.

His last wyrms…fourteen pairs were attached along his spine in perfect unison with the new body beside him, connecting their nervous systems through the force.  And now as Sicara moved behind him the final connections – his skull would be opened, the wyrm guided with the darkside to attach to precise pathways of the motor cortex…then piggybacking on exposed nerves they would implant the micro vilips using the tools of the ‘Shaper Caste’ of his force dead allies…the lighting quick neuro-telepathy of their vilips that Sicara had modified for use would serve as a connection un breakable by even the Force…yes the Praetorite Vong too had fallen to his dominance.

“All is in readiness,” Sicara noted…

“Commence.”

Xithar, Lucovis…whatever he deigned to term himself was no matter – felt nothing at first…then it was two nothings…then tingle as sensation returned across four hands…a gross slimy sensation as wyrms expended their last under the barrage of energy from the Zealots of the First Night. 

He began to sense from a new mind…hear with new ears…taste with new nasal receptors as the Zealots died one by one sacrificing their lives for their ‘Red Master’, their bodies rotten and burnt out from extreme Force use.  They would all die soon, it mattered not, their task was served and it would be centuries before he needed to repeat this process, and by then he would be strong enough to do it alone.

His mind expanded out of his skull, from behind his eyes into a vast bridge across two peaks, two fortresses, one familiar old, confined, the other new, vastly more complex, infinitely more powerful.

The sensations built and built as feeling returned to both bodies…the last of the wyrms dropped off its force connection embedding itself in both bodies, deepened and immune to disruption by the integration of Vong bio technology. 

The last of the Zealots fell a dry wreck as Xithars bodies began to heal…the Falleen body required Sicara’s attentions after such trauma…the other body simply hungered…

<<<<>>>>

He stepped forward and cupped his face in his hand,

“My beauty,”

The eyes flashed open yellow and bright.  He immediately felt the tug in his mind…the strange sensation of another seeing through his eyes as he saw through theirs….a double vision of his two selves.

“Prefect,” both voices spoke,

With the new body he stepped out from the medi-field toward Sicara who bowed as he would his normal form.

He gestured for the Sith aspirant to rise with the cool white hand, as the heavily veined head rose. 

“Master…”

“You have done well Sicara…” his voices spoke as the greater of the two minds analysed what to do with him…his knowledge was vast, and valuable – yet also risky if he were to offer it to others…no he would not betray, and no one else possessed the mix of Sith and Vong technology needed to achieve this, and indeed none possessed the raw superhuman ambrosia needed to create a God. 

“Continue your researches from the Demagol…” he – she? –added with the Force, it was no longer merely a pool of power, it was a galaxy from which he could draw and assert dominance over and through time and space.

“Find ways to enhance and improve this new form…soon you will have additional subjects to study,” Lucovis was becoming quickly tetchy as the new bodies needs went wanting…new perfectly formed legs squeezed together itching for sensation. 

Sicara nodded and departed…

Unable to contain itself any longer the primitive urges of the new body were unleashed, his old soon joined it in its pleasures – in the chamber over the ruined forms of his zealots and the rotten wyrms his two bodies became one.

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

Okay...    I certainly did NOT see that one coming.

Using the vilips ... making micro-vilips and IMPLANTING them into the brain to basically link two minds together!  Wow...   Darth Lucovis indeed.   And yet...

I can see where this could end up being very, very bad for him.  He's created an Aethan woman.  A goddess.  One who is stronger in the force that he is ... and who has a far more complex and powerful mind than he can truly comprehend.  Lucovis/Xathir is the dominant partner in the meld for now.  But will that state continue?  And if/when it shifts ...

But for now ... That's an amazing twist, my friend. I certainly did NOT see that one coming!  Bravo!

[Lord_S_Gray]

Okay...    I certainly did NOT see that one coming.

Glad I can still pull some tricks out of the hat! Yeah Hedonistic Sith Lord with Aethan body forged using Sith Alchemy, Yuuzhan Vong biots and Republic Tech - usually this is the kind of evil master scheme the heroes prevent before it occurs...not this time...

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 36 — Fallen Order — The Last Jedi

Part 1

Soryu

They said he was the greatest swordsman in the Order.

Of course it wasn’t true – Yoda, Yshrrk and probably half a dozen others were better.

He had earned the reputation in younger days, when he was still a Knight fighting beside Kimar and Odjina against a Bpfasshi cult during their rampages.

Surrounded, defending retreating injured Jedi he had held off – it was said – over a dozen of the cultist’s most ferocious berserkers never taking a single cut.  Odjina who had come in toward the end said it was one of the most astounding things he had ever seen – a wall of emerald green – “Not fighting back darkness,” Odjina said “But revealing the light,”

Soryu rarely raised his blade in combat, for every time he did he knew the next month or more would be spent reflecting on whether that had been the right thing to do.

The same regretful nature he had seen too much of in Milaea.

It was this reputation, enhanced by having taught both of these Knights in the advanced Lightsabre classes years before that caused them to hold back now.

The Mandalorians were cautiously observing just behind, their armour already dulled by the Red dust of Uba IV’s toxic wastes.

Soryu stood before what passed for a village on the irradiated world, home of the Jedi’s most implacable haters next to the Sith – the Ubese. Oma had ordered them here in pursuit of the Ubese who had attacked them on Myrkr – as Tnbu and his agents couldn’t find them across the back roads of the lawless space beyond the core Oma determined to go straight to the source.

And so a dozen Jedi ships followed by Mandalorian Mercenaries had landed in the brown-red northern wastes were the Tosuh-Uba clan bled a living from the desolated soil, living in rusted homes that looked more like boiler tanks.

The comparison between the relatively clean, heavily armed Jedi and Mandalorians and the patchwork outfits of the Ubese who had fled into what appeared to be a shelter beneath the ground was striking.  Here the poor and dispossessed lived on in the same galaxy but in a different universe from those who came to interrogate them.

“Master…please step aside,” The more amiable of the two Knights requested deferentially.

Soryu simply sat in the path of the army of a dozen Jedi and two dozen Mandalorians, their ships hovering behind as though uncertain what to do – fortunately no Ubese had opened fire on them, their sheer numbers were a deterrent even to the most fanatical of them who sought ‘Anathema’ heads – and at any rate all their best warriors were working as mercenaries, bounty hunters, slavers and body guards just to buy a little extra food for those who sheltered on the ruined world. 

“Move…this action is sanction by Acting Grand Master Oma,” the more aggressive Sentinel added

Technically Yshrrk was Acting Grand Master, but remained bed ridden, though recovering well last time he had seen him.

It was a conversation that both gave him hope and concern.
“They escaped,” Soryu noted regarding Jarys and the others on Myrkr
<No…allowed to leave by the both of us…>
Soryu felt – not regret – but an odd shame from the Wookie
<These were not our enemies…these ones are in pain, protecting their families…this I cannot condemn> 

Yshrrk’s time out had forced him to think, to see as others had not, yet even before this he had realised the Order was no longer following the Jedi path by going to Myrkr.

<My shame, not to have recognised my own rage…>

“Master…this is an operation sanctioned by the Senate, the Chancellor himself…we need to determine if they are harbouring the criminals who attacked us on Myrkr….”

The amiable one once again interrupted

It was no doubt true that they did harbour some, and know the location of others but that was not the point.

These two before him and all behind were not following the Jedi path, a Jedi did not come armed with soldiers behind him interrogate families living on the edge of survival – nor id a Jedi seek revenge on those who saw no option but to make a living practicing violence.

A Jedi sought to address the social, economic and political factors that made such people criminals – offered healing and comfort – and defended them against further abuse.

The more aggressive knight stepped forward as Soryu’s hand rested on his sabre.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

“I trust you meditations have been fruitful,” Oma interrupted as he sat in the general quarters on the Ardent

 “Focus, clarity I am regaining,” he replied ignoring the impolite intrusion

“Good, perhaps you can clarify this situation…” she paused looking out the window to the orange clouds of Uba IV below

“Master Soryu is currently causing a scene, some kind of peaceful protest…resisting direct instructions from the Council and the Senate through the Chancellor…”

She paused as Yoda considered this turn of events, he had doubts about the new path Oma was setting the Order upon, but given his own failings was not yet in a place he felt strong enough to act from.

“I am beginning to think this may be programing inflicted as part of his so called healing on the Night of Madness coming to the fore – that or outright insubordination.”

She turned toward him

“I’m giving you first option to bring him in, to regain some of your standing within the Order,”

At the expense of Soryu…

“Already some are wondering if you’re not also in league with Valens for having performed so poorly on Myrkr…”

She quickly clarified “I don’t believe that, but gossip flies beyond my speed to catch,”

Silent he kept his counsel for now

“Look Yoda, I didn’t want this role, but I’m going to make the most of it while I have it, I want the Order untied as much as you do, help me in this right now and that would go a long way to healing any further splits before they emerge.”

<<<<>>>>

Soryu

A few glassy objects reflected the dim sun behind him – Ubese peeking out to see what was happening. 

Soryu felt their confusion, but more than that he felt their fear – these were a people raised to believe the Jedi were their inveterate foes who had poisoned their world and consigned them to a life of poverty.

The truth or falsity of this did not matter – what did was the call of the Living force to flourish life – and adding to these peoples fear was counter to this.

Soryu remained unmoved.  He felt the confusion of the Mandalorian officers, wondering why the Jedi didn’t just shove him out of the way as they fanned out in a wide arc surrounding the village.

The Jedi feared the greatest swordsman, who taught advanced classes as more a form of yoga – physical meditation than combat.  They feared the Master indelibly linked and rumoured to be controlled by Milaea and Valens.  But most of all they feared themselves – to take action against a fellow Jedi in an effort to harass the wretched beings Soryu defended was a friction within each heart.

This was the True friction it had taken him too long to identify – the chasm between the Order and the Jedi. 

The Order was an organisation, a paramilitary arm of the Republic trying to impose control and law by force.  This burnt in friction against the Path of the Jedi - learning, support and understanding, seeking harmony between people as they were through connecting their common Truth of seeking life affirming paths – the way of the living force.

Their straining thoughts suddenly ceased as a new presence approached relieving them of their burden of action.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

Soryu simply sat in their path, nothing more.

Yoda approached slowly but surely.

“Master Soryu, time to depart it is,”

Soryu shook his head

“Have you too decided this is your path?”

Yoda paused at the strange implication as though following the Orders requirements were some betrayal.

“A lawful action this is Soryu, bound we are to follow the will of the Senate,”

“Even when it conflicts with the path a Jedi should follow?”

Yoda sensed the conclusion of his line of thought, it lead into dangerous territory

“The Jedi serve the Republic a check on power, guidance when in ambiguous situations the Law becomes…”

One again he shook his head

“The Order serves the Law and Republic, a Jedi serves the Living Force, seeks peace and harmony between all living things…I see this now – Jedi are not enforcers to abuse the poor and desperate, not warriors to hunt and punish others,”

His eyes convicted the entirety of the Temple since the Ruusan reformation – and long before with its hypocrisy, he nodded toward the Jedi Sentinels armed and armoured before him backed by Mando’a commados.

“That is the Order.”

He rose with grace, strength and confidence that sent the assembled Jedi and Mando’s pulling back in awe.

“I am a Jedi.”

<<<<>>>>

Soryu

It was clear now – the Order and the Jedi were to separate entities.  The struggle he had fought within himself was attempting to serve two masters- he could not serve the Living Force and the Order. 

“Soryu…this path, to chaos it leads, each his own Law and vision of good and right pursuing…” Yoda cautioned

He understood this, yet there was a deeper guidance that flowed across all life he could finally…finally hear an echo of, he did not truly see or comprehend it but it was there, the Path of the Jedi, the Song of the Mak’Tor that tended to Life. 

This knowledge could not be explained, it could only be experienced – to seek it out was the Path of the Jedi, through meditation, learning and action.  By opposing the further victimisation of the families behind him he learnt more.

“All things tend to the living force though their paths may be long…” he replied.

“Much you have left us to consider, to the Temple to meditate on this we should go, this place inapprop….”

“No…this is the place where it is understood – where the division is clear.” He gestured behind to the brown mottled cylindrical houses and whitened excuses for crops.

“Where those in pain calling for healing,” he pointed to the armoured Order Soldiers and Mercenaries

Are met with violence and expulsion…”

Placing his hands beside him, spread in a universal gesture of peace

“Here I Stand, I can do no other,”

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

He would not be moved.  Over the rust coloured air he heard the crackle of comms, and felt the burn of the Sentinels eyes upon him. 

He sympathized with Soryu’s position to defend these people, but also worried, was this the Aethans mental manipulation as Oma suspected?

Or was this Soryu jettisoning the Order in favour of his own idiosyncratic path – Yoda heard much of the Gray Knight Odjina’s thinking in what Soryu said – again the past returned to haunt – not Soryu who was a vision of serene acceptance of whatever that was or would be – but Yoda as he felt guilt at not standing beside Soryu fighting the Exile of the Mak’tor.

Would he stand with Soryu fighting for these social pariahs, sworn enemies of the Jedi now?

“Master…” the Sentinel whispered to him,

“Second Sentinel Oma has ordered he be removed by force now negotiation has failed, step aside and we will…”

“No…” Yoda snapped back,

“Deal with this I shall,”

Yoda knew this was something he had to do, a critical moment, a test perhaps – and the sinking in his stomach told him he was about to fail.

Yet he could not stop.

“Repair elsewhere Master Soryu, in the path of a lawful operation you stand, removed you shall be if resistance you continue to display.” He stepped forward firmly hoping he would back down.  Behind him the Mandalorians raised force-shields and edged forward as from the slums and hovels grotty children looked on their shining armour and the clean robes of the supposed protectors of peace and justice.

“I cannot move…not until the response to these beings suffering is compassion.”

Closing his eyes Yoda grasped his sabre, like so many idealists before him Soryu had finally passed outside of Lawful bounds – yes it was slow and cumbersome to work within the system but it was the path that kept violent revolution at bay. 

“No choice you leave me with Soryu.”

<<<<>>>>

Soryu

Yoda kept a measured pace approaching attempting to suppress his consciousness with telepathy, to make him pass out.

It would not succeed. He could sense the conflict in him.  This was not Yoda who would fight Soryu – this was the Order facing the Jedi.

His further telekinetic grips rebuffed consular green sabre lit the shanties casting a vile brown glow in the orange mists.

His intent was not to harm Soryu, rather to – actually Yoda wasn’t sure what his intent was –

He was fighting a battle within himself by externalizing it onto Soryu. 

Soryu accepted this, understood the need to release pent up frustrations – and Yoda had many from the past fortnight.

Before the blow could land his emerald green blade was up to meet the blow.  In clashing sweeps and quick flurries they sparred back across foot compacted sands. 

The Mandalorians fingers twitched on trigger behind, the Orders Soldiers in Sentinel Armour kept their sabres on hand but did not intervene.

Yoda’s speed was impressive, his acrobatic ability to offset his height without peer. 

But every kiss of their blades turned to blinding white that illuminated the dark places of the Jedi’s past, exposing more of their shame and failure to live up to the heart of their Oaths rather than the words they kept to so finely. 

The assault was sustained, and Soryu’s arms quickly tired – he was not the best swordsman because of physical strength or stamina – the burn in his shoulders began first as he wove beneath the hail of Ataru strikes from Yoda’s elevated position leaping at his collar.

Soryu used a Soresu variant adapted to deflecting melee strikes rather than blaster bolts to counter but did not take advantage of any of the opening he could slide into with a balanced Niman Pushing strike.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

The guard seemed impenetrable - every lunge, every blow seemed to meet the white-green wall of defence.

But he kept going hammering out his pain and frustration onto the one man least deserving of it, and in the same way most understanding and willing to accept the displaced anger.

He still felt the dissonance of having no answer from Valens, What of Yoda’s teachings had contributed to his fall and frustration further still that he lacked the wisdom to hear the answer to such a question and learn from it. 

Because of this he did not trust his judgement and now launched into his attack on Soryu justified by the Wisdom of the Order and hierarchy rather than his own. 

Milaea had done the same on Vyth…to everyone’s grief. 

300 years old and still able to fall into the same trap of obedience as a padawan.

These frustrations he blew out of himself in telekinetic rams that dissipated against a tranquil defence.

Yoda could see Kimar’s influence not just being resurrected but further perverted in Oma’s plans – yet he could not fault the logic in some of it for his distaste of the original proponent of them.

He could feel the tension between Jedi and Order Soryu’s Truth had seen within his own heart –

A tension he now tried to excise by cutting at the man who had revealed it to him.

<<<<>>>>

Soryu

He was not the greatest swordsman because of his skill, or talent, Yoda should be better. 

Such things didn’t really concern him, who was the better warrior mattered not – for wars did not make one great, and to seek to be great in itself was a vanity a Jedi did not seek.

The reason he was winning this battle was not even because Yoda was in truth fighting himself. 

He was the greater swordsman because he only raised his blade now to defend others. 

That was the secret, that was the intention that allowed the Living force to fill him and move his body in a rhythm akin to Odjina’s song. 

His power was not one that projected itself onto its opponent – it was light that overcame the darkness not by force, but by its mere presence.

This light now showed the other Sentinels their errors, the Mandalorians were beginning to back away from the battle confused and ashamed as the Ubese and their children stood transfixed to see someone they considered a living embodiment of Evil, an Anathema, defend them and their homes.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

His body strained, knees burning from his jumps Yoda felt a strange catharsis as he expended his energy in blows against the wall of quietude and light before him – as though by Soryus light his own pains were burnt away.

Yet what was in Yoda if such light was needed to purify.

In that moment he admitted the darkness was in him.

Realizing his defeat he deactivated blade coming to a skidding stop out of a spin along the oily foot compacted soil.

He was defeated

“No not defeated, for defeat implies loss, today you have lost nothing but gained knowledge.” Soryu said still facing away as his blade shuttered off.

“Defeat and victory do not matter to the Jedi only compassion and understanding,” he continued slowly turning

“For the Jedi uses the force for Knowledge and defence, never for attack, this Truth you have gained, there is no failure in this.”

Yoda fell, ashamed at how far things had to degrade before he realized how far the Order had moved from the Jedi ideal – and how much he had contributed to it.

Soryu extended his hand as the Sentinels backed away.  He was luminous in – a light green suffusing from his skin. 

Yoda felt a slight burn as he took it and the glow subsided. A voice haunted his thoughts…not the voice of Soryu but Valens

“Our lives are circular, we face the same battles and make the same choices, over the span of thousands of lives lived at once the pattern repeats as history.   The challenge to break that cycle, to face the same battle but make a different choice, one that does not keep us locked in to the cycle…that knowledge cannot come from within, for if we only rely on what we already know…our repetition is inevitable. “

This was a battle as old as time, in the heart of every Jedi and Force sensitive, a battle that needed to be fought again and again throughout life…especially one as long as Yoda’s for no resolution – even Soryu’s current calm and peace – could not last forever in the face of shifting tides of events and experience. 

He had not completed his battle, even now as he walked hand in hand with Soryu. 

But he had begun.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 36 — Fallen Order — The Last Jedi

Part 2

Oma

Her boots sunk deep in the dust like red soil that offered little purchase of any plants, Temple Guards sequestered to hunt Valens beside her, cloaked in robes that seemed to deflect the rotten air, their faces obscured by the white masks accented yellow.

She should’ve brought the emotionally detached warriors from the start.

Before her the Jedi looked as astounded as the Mandalorians were confused by what was happening.  Meeda Ordo in her red armour – Eye of Aversion fetish cleanly painted on the front nodded toward her to ask what was happening – two Jedi masters had just fought for no reason they could comprehend.

Soryu held Yoda’s hand, the pair of them standing between the main force and the Toush-Uba village, home of the maniac Goush.

“So it’s come to this,” she called out of her helmet unwilling to breathe the toxic air of Uba IV.

“You lost the Grand Mastership and your mind with it,” she kept the volume up high so everyone could here, and switched on a channel to broadcast across the Entire Jedi force pursuing Valens and his Ubese ‘allies’. 

“I expected this of you Soryu, you’ve always been a bleeding heart, but not you Yoda…You called on the Order to strike hard and fast against Valens on Myrkr…now you stand against your own performing their duties.”

She raised the finger of accusation as the Temple Guards assembled to her side.

“There is only one explanation, Valens has corrupted them both with his so called healing – Arrest them,”

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

He felt his heart jump once more, the flood of energy from his recent combat not yet dissipated. 

There were six Temple guards, a dozen Jedi, Oma and two dozen Mandalorians.

Only one being Yoda had ever known could hope to stand against such odds – the very being Yoda was accused of being enthralled to.

“Incorrect this path is, too late to see it was I, these Ubese our enemies are not, so why come armed for war, resisting darkness within most of all the Path of the Jedi is, to cast shadow upon the innocent like this…such petty vindictiveness we must seek to purify ourselves from,”

Yoda responded to the challenge as best he could while the Temple guards hissed on two dozen blades - each armed with a lightsabre pike, the unique yellow casting odd shadows amidst the reds and oranges of the scene.

Their goal was lost, they could not protect the Ubese from being ‘interrogated’ but they could avoid more suffering than was needed – to resist now would only sharpen the Orders blades and propensity for violence not diminish it.

As one Yoda and Soryu submitted peacefully as the Order arrested the Jedi.

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

I wondered when and where Soryu would take his stand.  It warms my heart a bit to see Yoda stand with him.  I get Oma's POV, but it is definitely wrong.  But ... the path of vengence and violent action is easy to take and generally easy to follow.  Unfortunately, it is rarely the right path in the end. 

When you come down to it, each of us has to stand for what we believe in.  Soryu has made his stand.  Now ... the consequences.

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 37 — Eclipse of the Sons —Liberation

 

Xoar

**MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

“Ready Brother,” boomed the Psadan Mmbri, much shorter than Xoar but was twice as wide, covered in lumpy plates of blotched brown shell like flesh.

“Ready,” he patted his friend on the shoulder with his left thin blue arm, unbalanced against the two arms on the opposite side, the Myneyrshi having long since lost it, and while prosthetics were available they were simply too bulk and heavy, more impediment than replacement, he had learned to adapt in the cages and bloody sands of the arena already – it was that or die.

He kept his eyes fixed on the door, waiting of the breach, they would be the first two in of Reaver Squad…their squad…their Brothers, sisters, clutch mates, cell-brethren – a hundred words for sibling from all the different species. 

Anyone who knew about Wayland would think them an odd pair…their species were always at each other’s throats, indeed it had been in the aftermath of a battle between the Psadan’s and Myneyrshi that the slavers had struck, capturing the wounded and tired survivors as they retreated…Mmbri had been used as a general labourer across a dozen worlds, Xoar as a pit fighter…both had learned under the slavers lash just how insignificant and petty their species quarrels were…now they stood shoulder to shoulder, both Sons of Kessel.

Steam hissed at the door as the ship buckled and whined with the forced connection…lock bars of rusted metal flipped as the heavy door flopped forward into the dimly lit catwalk and grated mess of a largely prefab space station. 

Mmbri surged forward faster than one would imagine for his stubby legs, his mini repeater blaring blue bolts to dissuade the slavers from taking cheap shots as they came out.  Xoar was close behind, trying to pick enemies amongst the containers and oil stained equipment.  His opening shot missed the peeking leathery head but the Twi’lek behind him lobbed a well-timed grenade in the direction the target had dived blasting him into bloody charred pieces.

Slamming into an upturned container for cover Xoar motioned the rest of the squad to the far ends of the room as Mmbri continued his rampage down the centre drawing the majority of fire. 

“AS3- to 6 Prep for Mynock” his auditory comm crackled moments before the entire station shook and buckled as the main force breached, Xoar quickly gestured for the team to move up while the slavers were still relatively shaken.  Vaulting the cover he opened fire on a catwalk as Mmbri took down a retreating group of three, on the sides of the room the fire fight continued for a few moments before the area was secured.

“Mynock is docked, AS2 Tangos regrouping near you, AS 4 divert to sector 3 to support.”

Xoar nodded and issued hand commands, Assault Squad 4 was his, twelve...well ten strong, sector three was identified on the briefing schematics as storage, likely the armoury, deep inside the station it meant they were pulling back at least, hopefully he could provide the hammer to Team 2, Scrounger Squads, anvil.

The access corridors were largely empty, they only engaged two fleeing guards and then a small group around a hastily erected turret, the station continued to rock as the attack continued…it was not going as easily as they had planned…still they would press on. 

Coming to the intersection he checked his rifle charge and coolant, nodded to Mmbri then turned into the fire.

<<<<>>>>

Bamma

***Orbital Dry Dock Around Rorak VIII Hutt Space***

Bamma scooted along the rough floors of his new ship, it was terribly ugly, cables and support beams visible beside the walkways, workers rushing back and forth…

“How much longer,” Bamma the Hutt droned impatient for his new ship, Jewel of Jobla to be completed before Jobla’s name day, Bamma did not want to ruin his huttlets name day with an unfinished gift.

“The ship is fully operational you munificence, it is simply the interior decoration that needs to be completed….” The preening Nimbanel explained, they were useful administrators but tended to blather on about boring details Bamma found

They reached one of the observation decks, vast and empty, no furniture, not even a bar or bowl for snacks! Just a worn looking Chagrian slave scrubbing the floor.

“As you can see great one,” the Nimbanel whose name Bamma forgo gestured to the other side of the star dock
“The Naboo Marble has just arrived…” a large freighter landed on one of three docking berths, cranes and load-lifts began ratcheting up to move the hand crafted panels to hide the unsightly cables and pipes.  Another ship docked beside it, latching onto the near air lock

“Ah and the workers have arrived…a selection of Ugnaughts, Bimm, Gand an some Verpine, they have experience furbishing the most opulent of estates I am assured, and come at a very reasonable cost…”

“Product,” Bamma dismissed the slaves being ferried onto the ship

“Make sure they wear suits, and the ship is scrubbed down three times after they finish, I don’t want my huttlet touching something product has touched!” he glanced at the Chagrian scrubbing the deck, disgusting product, broken horn, scarred head, no doubt a disobedient thing to earn so many scars.

<<<<>>>>

Keison

***MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

“We’re on target, within the 20% time buffer, so far all transmissions have been blocked…” Chk’Tr noted his head in a bunch of datapads.

Keison kept his eyes on Hondo Station below, his peripheral vision taking in the live feeds from the seven squads down there.  They had made sure to minimize damage, they wanted the platform intact…and they needed to repair it before the next scheduled shipment arrived.

“Tell Reaver to hurry it up, Get Ironsmith working on the patch up at insertion points 3 and 4,” He ordered across the comm.

The Orbital facility was located at the edge of a lifeless, resource poor system roughly midway between the Arkanis Sector, and the nearby worlds of Rodia, Ando Falleen, and Hutt Space.  It served as a refuelling and reprovisioning point for slaver ships from the Outer Rim past Tatooine back into Hutt Space and the main markets. 

“Ironsmith is enroute,” Chk’Tr added

Run and named for the Black Sun Vigo Aur Hondo Keison had his eyes on it for a number of years, it was a large facility, full of raw materials, and easily defensible.  It was a big risk, but if he could take it…it could become a new home for the expanding Sons

That was why it had taken him years to acquire the ships, men and communications jammers needed to make this work. 

Now they just needed to get the last of the slavers cleaned out.

<<<<>>>>

Kandas

***Orbital Dry Dock Around Rorak VIII Hutt Space***

Kandas paid little heed to the Hutt moaning about the delay in finishing his ship he just kept scrubbing away as the Nimbanel overseer placated the beast.

“Group 2 is on board,” the whisper came through his audio piece – it had been surgically implanted to avoid detection during this operation.

He gave a quick look up through the transparisteel as the slave transport lifted off having delivered the ‘workers’ to the Ship yards, and specifically the ship he was working on, a massive custom Ajuur Class Cruiser, one and a half times normal size, eight ion engines, thirty turbo lasers, dozens of smaller arms and missile ports, it was a statement of Bamma’ authority as much as a ‘name day’ gift, a show of wealth and prestige. 

“Mynock confirms, Kowakian link up,”

Good, Kandas thought, that meant his second in command had made contact with the Ugnaught in charge of the small cell within the newly arrived workers.  This set up had taken nearly two years of deep cover beneath a masters lash once more…but Kandas could take it, because this time…this time…it was his choice.

“Groups 3 boarding now…stand by Tautaun…”

Kandas dipped his cloth into the bucket, fingering the blaster that lay beneath the soapy water.

<<<<>>>>

Xoar

**MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

His chest burnt from within but he would not fall…for Old Gypra who Xoar had finished in the pits, a final mercy to the kindly old Crolute…a clean decapitation to spare him from the tusk cats claws.

Another shot hit his left hand…but he would not fall…for Sneaky Ruuk who was stretched on a rack as starved Kowakian Monkey lizards tore him apart…while punters bet on how far apart his fingers and toes could get before he died.

His right hands readjusted to grip his rifle and he charged forward.  The suddenness of his appearance out of cover caught them off guard, as they moved their rifles he was already firing, before skidding on sparking knee plates into the barrier they were hiding behind.  Dropping his rifle he reached over and just grabbed – he couldn’t see what type, but felt flesh…he dug in and pulled with all his strength, the Rodian lifted just over halfway was peppered with blue shots from his Brothers, Mmbri rushing forward to help him.

Mmbri didn’t stop, he slammed into the upturned workbench smashing it backward as Reaver squad rallied behind him. 

Xoar looked on as they pushed past the barricade demolishing the remaining slavers with fists, beaks and claws…but any satisfaction was soon turned to dismay as a bulk head flew open and fire poured out into the melee…the Black Suns didn’t care they hit their own as much as their enemies, twisting round he rolled a grenade underarm, but a black armoured Aqualish was smart enough to kick it away.  The explosion pierced their ears in the close confines as Xoar jumped to cover.

“One of the Lieutenants!” Mmbri called over, Hondo, the death master and slave driver across the sector used his Aqualish brethren as his officers, if they had reached one of them it meant they were getting close. 

“What have you got?” he called back as the spluttering and moaning from the machine gunned melee rose behind them

Mmbri tapped his own shoulder…he was out of bolts and had only his stubby form left to fight with.

Xoars eyes darted around to the pile of half dead bodies…he would have to risk it…lithe and swift the Myneyrshi leapt past the fire from the door way to the glinting detonator on the dying Weequay’s belt…a curious thought in his mind…there was Hjjan, a Weequay, his brother on a dozen liberations lying dead beside another Weequay with a grotty worn off Black Sun Symbol on his chest lying equally lifeless…how had these two who looked like brothers ended up on the opposite side of such a conflict…

He had no time to contemplate, through the pain of his wounds he grasped the detonator and in a swift single motion primed and threw it before landing amongst the dead and injured.

<<<<>>>>

Kandas

***Orbital Dry Dock Around Rorak VIII Hutt Space***

Bamma watched in mild interest as the last few ships ferried the Naboo Marble into the hangar below…despite the assurances it would be ready in time he was still worried…he had promised Jobla his name day party would be held somewhere special…he needed the ship - or at least the ball room - finished in time.

“Make sure they start work of the ballroom immediately” he ordered the Nimbanel who simply nodded and pressed a few keys on his datapad.

A crash came from beside him, his two body guard instantly became alert….Bamma looked over to see the silly product had spilled its bucket…imbecile…

“That water comes out of your ration slave!” he screeched

The Chagrain nodded and tried to mop it up…something glinted in it’s hand, a flash and…

The smoking crater in the Hutts forehead was swiftly followed by six Gand jumping the body guards.  The Weequay pair were well armed and armoured, but the industrial plasma cutters in the hands of angry ammonia breathing slaves fighting for freedom gave them a rapid advantage over the body guards whose charge was already flopping on the floor expelling horrid gases and chunky fluids.

‘Mynock’, a burly and often surly Nosaurian, Kandas second in command pressed in

“Kan, we’ve secure three docking umbilicals, so far the dock control is unaware,” he tossed Kandas a rough bag full of equipment

“Good work, I’ll head to the bridge, get that last docking umbilical locked down…” he pulled the cowering Nimbanel up by the throat as the Gand collected what useful weapons they could from the bodyguard’s corpses

“Easy way or hard way?” he asked the overseer,

“E…e..easy way….”

<<<<>>>>

Keison

***MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

“Scouts report the next shipment is coming it an hour earlier than we estimated!” Chk’Tr squeaked

“Frell…” pull out the ships behind the Gas giant, they’ll have to make do with the men on board…

“Scrounger what’s your status?”

“Moving up to support Reaver, we have them on the spikes!” the gruff Yinchorri replied, her voice distorted by the Comm

“We’re moving out for the next capture, we’ve only got half an hour before they get here”

This was the second stage of the plan, Once the station was taken they would have a few days before word spread as they had jammed their comms, they could collect and capture at least half a dozen of Hondo’s ships stopping off here before they realised, but they needed to make sure the damage was repaired and their own ships out of sight to make sure the slavers ships docked…he just hoped they had time before the first of Hondo’s ships arrived.

<<<<>>>>

Xoar

Fiery hell erupted down the corridor, boiling the blood and charring the bodies Xoar was beneath…but from the smoke the fire kept coming…he could hear Mmbri rumble discontentedly…he hoped he wouldn’t…damn he was…

Through the dark mist the squat form charged forth, his thick hide ignoring the less precise bolts…Xoar had no choice…on shaky legs he got up to follow his brother…Suddenly the Aqualish turned about…bolts of green and red from behind.

“YEEEHAWWW!” He heard the excited yell of Trill from behind, the Aqualish spun into a Yinchorri fist.

<<<<>>>>

Jogo

**Green Tide Approaching Hondo Station Located MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

Quickly dying sparks of yellow and blue flickered on the sides of Hondo Station - Jogo pulled the Green Tide in, loaded with nearly 2000 product fresh from the Rim, along with a cargo hold full of Geonosian Oils, the ancient slurried and compressed remains of the plants red-rock algae from one of the irradiated worlds mass extinction events.

“They must be replacing the cargo mag tracks,” Kobmo gruffly noted beside him at the tugs on the outside of the station. Jogo simply shrugged and hocked some spit from between his tusks.

Docking was straight forward, he just needed to take on some Helium 3 and basic supplies before heading to Toydaria to sell the Oil and pick up re-processed power converters, then to Nar Shadda to sell the converters and product, send Hondo his cut then spend a few days in the bars before doing it all again.

Stepping through the docking umbilical into the station he paused,

“Where’s Boros?” he asked the Yinchorri who wore the Black Sun insignia

“He’s off sick, caught Herpesatz off a product,”

Jogo shook his head, he’d never picked Boros for the type to frell product with a family back on Ando and all…but he also knew the quiet ones were often the worst.

“Laser brain, that’s what plas-sheaths are for, well I’ll need a full charge up, 4 GigaLitres of Helium and an atmosphere cycle for the cargo hold, the product stink.”

“We’ll see to it,” the Yinchorri nodded to a…Psadan?…odd Jogo had never seen him before either,

“Tell your guys to come join us, Hondo’s sent a crate of Blossom wine for us to share, keep the morale on the station up and all,”

“Blossom…that weak Naboo Pzzak?”

“Ah well we got some Naboo girls to go with it,”

Jogo flicked his tongue to his tusks in anticipation and turned to his first mate,

“You heard the man, time for some shore leave!”

<<<<>>>>

Kandas

***Orbital Dry Dock Around Rorak VIII Hutt Space***

“Docking clamps releasing TaunTaun,” Mynock reported

Kandas nodded, the bridge had been taken easily, the ship had 400 slaves and 50 guards, most working in the engineering and cargo areas.  The plan had gone off largely perfectly, what the Masters thought were shipments of Naboo Marble were in fact provisions and second hand Corellian rifles. 

There had been losses, twenty eight so far…Kandas grunted through the pain of the shot that had hit his thigh, his Gand companions had lost two taking the bridge…but to take this new Cruiser intact and so easily…

“Bring her out Hydex,” he ordered, the bridge was now staffed with a dozen Sons, some Verpine, some Gand, a few Bimms, the Ungnaughts were arrayed at critical engineering stations across the ship, it really needed a crew of a thousand for full operation of all systems, but if slave were good at anything it was doing more with less.

The cruiser rumbled as its thrusters pushed it from the space dock, the Nimbanels codes for a ‘test flight’ working like a charm.

“Slavers are rounded up,” Mynock commed, “Waiting instruction to vent,”
“Wait till we’re at the edge of the system, don’t give away any clue we don’t have to…”

“Course locked in,” Hydex informed, “Destination Hondo Station,”

Kandas nodded, he could only hope Keison had been successful…he had to be…this was their big chance, a brand new cruiser and a massive orbital Station for a base would give the Sons real military clout, a solid base of operations. He flicked on the ship wide comm. He wasn’t much for speeches but he wanted to say something.

“All Sons this is Kandas, or TaunTaun as most of you know me…we’ve done a great thing today for our brethren…thank you all…the Freeblade is ours.

<<<<>>>>

Xoar

***Hondo Station MR00042998 Between Ando and Nar Shadda***

The last kick to the tusked face had been unnecessary, but it was satisfying, Keison nodded to Xoar who hit the outer door lock, a brief hiss of gas, then the second sending Jogo and his crew out to join the other slavers floating like odd icicles in a ring around the station.

“First catch and already 2000 free,” He smiled as much as he could through the facial scarring that reminded him just how long he’d been planning this…

“Let’s get that oil into the generators and signal the rest of the flotilla, we’re gonna rip that Tusk faced seaweed sucker a new one…no offense Komo…” The Aqualish Brother grunted, he’d heard worse and had no love of Hondo who’d sold him into slavery for Sabacc debts he owed one of Hondo’s loan sharks on Ando.

Patting Xoar on the back Keison headed back toward the bridge, things were looking on the up, one station and one large hauler captured, and the message had just come through from Kandas that Operation Freeblade was a success…all this and Hondo none the wiser…

They were on a roll.

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 38 — Eclipse of the Sons —Activation

Part 1

 

Xithar

Politics…politics politics…oh how he enjoyed the cut and thrust of negotiation, the sincere lies and false truths traded a piercing blows like master swordsman…so much more civilized than ‘lightsabre diplomacy’.

He lounged back in the rich red velvet of the Crimson Casino’s couches as the others entered, The Wheel was relatively neutral ground between the current crop of Vigo’s spheres of influence, too large and unruly to be worth a permanent effort to control…perfectly placed for a gathering.

Yet he or rather She as Lucovis….was also elsewhere…in a pool, indulging in the sensations…everything was so much more majestic in his other body – a wider range and more vivid colours, a spectrum of auditory and olfactory sensations he could never imagine…it was a chore to pay attention to the old body that the Galaxy knew…yet use it he must…

His attention unwilling returned he noted of the nine recognized Vigos, and at least three others who claimed the title either in dispute of another or in their own right, seven would be attending in person, quite the gathering all told, each was permitted one aide or guard, Xithar had chosen his Sephi concubine.

Aur Hondo, Xithars main rival entered - unusually he was not followed by the hulking form of his body guard – a hulking cybernetic creature known only as “Surge”.

The Aqualish Vigo was decked in fine blue silks with silver trim, a nod to his home world’s colouring Xithar supposed.   

The others were barely worth Xithars notice, three brought body guards, the other two aides, one a Givin with an inbuilt AC-4 Cyborg implant reminding him of his own chief infocyte.

Then began the round, a thrust against Hondo by speaking to the Koorivar Pasalletan, a neat parry by slapping Jyx on the back and reminding him of old times after Hondo had moved on, a deft pivot out of danger by avoiding the topic of the day with the Quarren Uihar, all the while watching his opponents movements, learning, listening, watching waiting through the melee that masked itself as small talk.

Finally after an hour taking advantage of the Casinos generous hospitality they settled down, a few more cuts and slashes as they chose where and across from whom to sit at the round black wooded table with thin gold inlay.

Their attendants dismissed for the moment they could discuss the weightier matter that had lead Hondo to call for this gathering, in addition to the simple fact that by being the one who made the request and having it answered he had placed himself in a positon of leadership.

“I have called this meeting of brothers,” Hondo began, tones from a translator disguised as a silver necklace drowning out his uncivilized Aqualish grunting in exchange for what sounded like the automated voice on a million mag-trains across the core worlds. 

“To discuss a solution to a problem that threatens us all…the Sons of Kessel!”

<<<<>>>>

Jarys

Stars resolved back into dots rather than streaks.  They were on the edge of the system.  Kiraea lounged behind him still undressed causing him more than a little distraction.

“So these are the Sons…” she noted expanding her senses outward
“They’d better have information about Hondo…”

He could feel her distaste for dealing with outsiders like a red haze about her warm sensual body.

“They will…they’re good friends,”

“Tss” she sneered

“These are my friends Kiri…they may be outsiders but they helped me, helped all of us…if you can’t respect them at least acknowledge that they fight a mutual enemy.”

“All outsiders are enemies in the end…” her breath close to his ear attempting to use her sexuality to turn him to her opinion

“These men fight for a better life for themselves and their people, this is a time for us to start living, – we have enough enemies already,”

He felt her hard gaze on him, standing up to her irritated her in one way but aroused her in another.

“Fine you do the talking…”

<<<<>>>>

Kandas

“Come on…come on…” he paced along the bridge as the Freeblade slowly floated between systems one two hour jump from Hondo Station.

The supply ship they were to Rendezvous was 45 minutes late…not much but when you were flying a stolen cruiser to a recently ‘liberated’ space station every second felt like a year.

“Ship coming out of hyperspace 443-22 heading on intercept vector.”
“Finally…hail them.”

“Vcgrus Whore this is Freeblade come in.”

“Freeblade this is Vcgrus Whore, sorry for the delay, we had to blast our way out of Iksander some of Hondo’s goons objected to us taking their power converters and Helium 3, but Chk’Trs intel was right we slipped straight past the orbital patrols,”

Kandas nodded, “good to hear, lets get you guys aboard, we’re low on man power, got a tactical seat with your name on it,”

“Looking forward to it Taun Taun, Vcgru’s Whore out,”

So far so good…still the Chagrian felt a tingle in his long since amputated horn-tentacles…it was no ‘force sense’ but it signalled trouble.

<<<<>>>>

Surge

[Kinetic sensor: Vibration 0.5Sec 200N]
[Scanning…
[Scanning….
[Location Confirmed – Activate SURGE]
He was waking up…why was he waking up…
<He didn’t want to wake up…he wanted to be shut down again and never wake…>
[Prefrontal Activation – administering suppressants 4%]

Like a coiled spring his squeezed form burst out, ripping the shipping container he had been stored into to metal shreds.

Autonomous reflexes carried along optic cables ordered limbs to moves through the containers, thin lines of code scrolling across vision that flicked from clear to red, fiery yellow outlines indicated the first targets

[Gand X3>>>Threat Analysis>>>Minimal>>>Status: Undetected>>>
 [Armament Selection Analysis Detection Probability Rifle: 20.3% Grenade:60.5% Overcharge: 45% CQC: 1.3%
>>> CQC Initiated.]

Body twisted through the rows of cargo rails and boxes, effortlessly and silently landing behind the three insectoid creatures.  With mechanical precision manipulator claws removed their critical organs resulting in rapid and complete system failure.

Moving to the nearest terminal the scomp link flicked from behind the armoured chest piece connecting the Ships internal network.  More code flooded in as it pushed effortlessly into the still incomplete software.  The new ships operating system was basic with no firewalls. 

[Firewalls Breached>>>Jewel of Jobra System Root Directory]

Internal comms and security systems were deactivated with overloads to circuit nodes across four decks to make it appear a system failure rather than sabotage.

[Active Scan>>>DETECTION ALERT X5.2M Y0.5M Z1.5M]

Without detaching from the link its hand rose with soundless mechanical grace to unleash a fiery chunk of plasma into the Ugnaught that had come across Surge.

<I felt its death…>

[Prefrontal Activation – administering suppressants 12%]

Ship schematics completed upload

[>>>Objective 2.1 Complete…administering dopamine]

<<<<>>>>

Keison

“Kei there’s a hail…not sure where it coming from…no text message…”Vorynx Hails Warmaster””

Keison perked up amidst the hubbub of the command deck, Xoar getting patched up also brightened

“Vorynx…”

<<<<>>>>

“Jarys!” he called out as the leader of Vorynx squad pounded down the ramp, he looked different, he’d grown out his hair, he looked more…alive.

“Keison…”

Before they could reach each other a brownish blur sped past, leapt up and smashed Jarys with a huge punch in his black armoured shoulder

Jarys companion, an astoundingly beautiful red head pulled a short sword, but Jarys held her back down with a hearty laugh.

“Getting better Mmbri!” he joked with the squatty muscled Psadan,

“Your turn!” the deep voice replied – this had been a game of theirs between missions - Mmbri couldn’t comprehend how such a ‘thin’ creature could be so strong.

What looked to Keison like a tap sent the 200KG Psadan spiralling across the hangar bay, landing with a thud into ferrocrete. Flipping up his laugh filled the cavernous space.

“You’re looking well brother,” Keison noted as he took his hand then looked over to the female, leaned forward and whispered

“You hitting that…frell she got a sister!”

“Ha…yes…but she can hear you…”

“Oh…Sorry Miss…”

“Eh she’s one of my Kind…” Jarys explained, Keison knew better than to probe about his ‘kind’.

“Sort out your trouble with the Jedi?” he asked as they walked along the deck, it was a hive of activity as they pulled in all the equipment they needed to get the hyper drives installed to jump the Station to a safe spot near the Maw where it would serve as their new base of operations.

“More or less...seems you’re doing well, the Stations covered in tugs and plasma welders,”

“Yes…well we’re stepping up…putting Operation Libertalia into action at last…new home…new fleet…a real centre of power to hit the Masters from…come…have a look around,”

<<<<>>>>

Jarys

Was this what freedom looked like?

The operation was impressive, almost the entire Sons force fortifying and preparing their new operations base…yet was this really freedom – to be on a war footing constantly, no time to rest or live, driven to free others at the cost of their own bodies and sanity?

Keison was really making headway and it was good to see old face too, Mmbri of course, and his companion Xoar, Chk’Tr the Chandra Fan Intelligence expert,
“Where’s Kandas, Mynock, Kembel?”

“Ah…” Keison looked down

“Kembel got it on Ando with Firestar Squad planning for this job….”

Kembel was a good woman, just trying to make a better life for herself and her hatchlings…and had for their freedom – a freedom she never really had time to enjoy.

Kiraea’s disapproval of his emotion in the aether burned…she didn’t empathized with the Sons who were doing exactly what they were – rising from their suffering to make a new and better life for themselves.

“They died free…” Jarys noted sadly

It had been the Sons that had kept him going when he had no other future, helping others regain their freedom and rebuild their lives had given his purpose…but now…much as he wanted to help the Sons he didn’t want to end up like Kembel fighting an unending war for stolen moments of choice…he wanted to Live…yet even now with the Clones taken his freedom was curtailed by the chains of war.

“That they did Brother…but good news Kandas and Mynock are heading here…brand new custom Cruiser we…appropriated from Bamma the Boisterous Hutt – it’ll be out new flag ship – the Freeblade”

He could feel the pride off all of them as the Turbo lift headed to the command platform, past now empty slave cells repurposed for storage, dozens of workers of all species moving to firm up structural supports for the jump to hyperspace. 

Jarys felt slightly guilty having left them…he could’ve helped with all this, helped them take this station or the Freeblade…instead he was asking for Sons to give him much out of their poverty.  Kiraea pressed that thought onward encouraging him to think of himself and the People not the Sons.

“Glad to hear that…but the reason we came…we’re looking into a Vigo – Aur Hondo…anything you have – he kidnapped some…” Kiraea’s presence hardened

“Some friends of ours…”

“That’d be right the Mush sucker…no offence Komo,” the Aqualish Komo behind them grunted – None taken.

“Anyway you’ve come to the right place…” the turbo lift doors opened to a bustling control room, over head in fine silver Aurebesh the words etched over the BlackSun insignia

>Hondo Station<

<<<<>>>>

Xithar

Xithar noted Hondo’s choice words ‘I have called’,‘threatens us all’.  If Hondo thought by summoning the Vigos to the Wheel it showed his strength, influence and concern for his fellow Vigos he was wrong, it showed his desperation – rumours were the narcissistically named Hondo Station had been taken.  If he truly wished to show dominance he should’ve brought Keisons head to the meeting.

“The increasing damage to our profits by the Sons of Kessel can no longer be tolerated, we are losing upwards of 500 product per month, taking in fixed cost losses from assets taken as well we’re down 15 million credits a month.”

Murmurs of agreement flowed from Vigo’s who operated closer to Hutt space where they were most active.

“I propose a joint fund of 100 million credits to hire a force of mercenaries to eliminate this disruption, I have spoken with Orzym the Hutt who has agreed, on behalf of the Kadjics, to provide freedom of movement in Hutt space for any force we raise to that purpose,”

“But no credits,” Sneered Jyx Tvril an upstart that Xithar had assisted in displacing the former Vigo along the Braxant Run, while only as reliable as a Vigo could be, Jyx at least knew which Bantha would give him the most milk.

“No credits…but clandestine support is as much as any could hope for from the Hutts,” Hondo noted

“You think this will be enough to crush them,” the Koorivar, Pasalletan, who operated out of Boz Pity which had been hit hard,

“You can never crush these economic terrorists and hierarchy deniers fully, but this should annihilate their capacity to launch large scale attacks.”

That was exactly why the Sons were such a benefit to them Xithar mused.  A wise businessman did not suppress an organised opponent like the Sons – as a single entity they were manageable, able to be manipulated more easily and counter intuitively their size made their attacks less damaging as they were better planned and less frequent.  Before the Sons latest resurgence there had been a scourge of nearly a hundred small outfits flitting about like rabid mynocks, no rhyme no reason – to destroy the Sons would be to splinter them into unpredictable cells once more.

“At a very steep cost…” Uihar added, his fingers already pressed in worry as his facial tentacles twitched nervously at the thought of having to part with a single beloved chit.

“A trifle compared to what they are costing us over the long term…” Hondo parried, his bulbous eyes pointedly at the Vigos who operated within the Republic

“...all of us suffer through reduced supply reliability and increased shipping and per kilo Spice costs,”

There was a delicate balance to being a crime lord, far more complicated than any Senator or Parliamentarian…one could not by speeches or promises convince, nor by policing or taxes repress…one had to work within the frame of others vice and ambition…turning that innate motivation and violence to one’s own ends...in this case Hondo played on raw credits and perceived slights to convince…and now Xithar sensed came pride and arrogance….

“In addition we must send a message to the galaxy at large, show them the Black Sun will not tolerate product disrupting our trade”  spittle flew from his tusks as the droning grunt for product was pronounced.

Now that was and interesting display of emotion…Hondo was more administrator than warrior…Xithar gently touched at his mind…yes there it was a thin but distinct sense of inadequacy…to be born into the militant Aqualish culture but have no talent for battle…how sad…and now it flowed into overcompensation…

A pleasant backwash from ‘Lucovis’ through the vilips, a sense of…understanding, a plan formed from her thoughts almost by instinct on how Xithar – and only Xithar himself could benefit from this particular fault in his enemy.

Even without the force Xithar could tell the mood of the room shifted toward Hondo’s view with that particular appeal to both vanity and venality. 

“Even with those credits what’s the plan, the Hutts have failed to catch them for years,” Jyx incredulity was as obvious as his blue hair.

“I cannot share that information just yet…” The mag-lev announcers voice came from Hondo’s translator, Jyx annoyance and scepticism reached new heights overpowering the normally affable aura

“I’m betting you take the 100 mill, spend 5 to hire some two bit losers in battered beskar and pocket the rest,” Jyx sneered from behind crossed arms

“I assure you that is not the case,”

“You assure us? Assure us with what?”

The Aqualish tusked face twitched with what Xithar assumed was a ‘smile’ for his species as he sensed the announcement. 

A quick gesture lit up the tables holo projector showing a station surrounded by dozens of ships of various sizes.

“The credits are spent and the battle is already underway…”

<<<<>>>>

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 38 — Eclipse of the Sons —Activation

Part 2

Surge

[>>>Objective 2.2.5 Complete…administering dopamine]
Another rush of pleasure through limbs as the body moved out of the main Engine room, indifferent to the Gand, Verpine and ugnaught bodies it stepped on while leaving.

Synth-skin sensors detected the sensation of their blood dripping off as the motile limbs moved toward Objective 2.3, scrolls of text more insistent. Small pointers and tags integrated target information as he reached the trubo lift.  It opened to reveal a Nousarian and three burly Yinchorri. 
[Pacifying]
Black-green arms moved rapidly around the smaller creature’s neck, squeezing and cracking before it could react.  The others bashed on his back in the tight confines…predictive software and servo enhanced natural reflexes dropped his centre low, ripping knees and thigh meat before succinctly dispatching their vital signals to flat lines on the scanner.

<Outsiders are much slower than People…>
[Prefrontal Activation – administering suppressants 21%]

Infra-sensors overlaid on genetically perfected eyes scanned the turbo lift as optic-crystal -processors drew from neuronal grey matter to assess the best course of action to achieve Objective 2.3.

Surge was efficient, Surge had completed 478 Objective since first activation.  This was his role – he completed objectives.

[Objective 2.3 Y:15.2m X:32.1m Z:5.6m]
Cutting the turbo lift roof with the left arm laser lance he ascended the tunnel using half mechanized limbs as artificial arteries kept a steady flow of nutrients to natural muscles that cybernetics could not improve upon.
<I climbed the trees like this…>

[Prefrontal Activation – administering suppressants 34%]

[Transmission Detected>>>Detection Probability: 75.3%]  They were beginning to experience anxiety sub-routines as their units did not reciprocate communications.  The Objective must be compete before detection reaches 100%.

Metal fingers pierced the door as servo-enhanced muscles pried the way to Objective 2.3 open.

<<<<>>>>

Jarys

<I don’t like this…something is wrong> she pressed at his mind as Keison talked about their plans and Jarys took in the star speckled vista of nearly the entire Sons of Kessel Flotilla rallying to get the Station operational for transport. They had only a handful of old Industrial Tugs, but they made up the lack of resource with ingenuity and enthusiasm.

<They’re fine…they just want to live good lives like we do…>  

“Taking Hondo won’t be easy got quite the fortress on Ando…but if anyone could do it, it’s Vorynx Squad…ah here’s the man to help you out…”

Chk’tr wandered out of a side room looking a little more jittery than normal, a smart Brother, head of intelligence the Chandra-fan bore half a face of fire burnt flesh where no fur would regrow…punishment for disobedience.

“He’s a spy!” Kiraea cried – four dozen eyes and seventeen audio-visual sense organs focused on her.

The finger of her ire pointed straight at him

“That one…the little mutant gobril, he’s a spy!” without further ado she pulled her short sword and called on the aether, stopped only by Jarys moving into hold her back.

<What are you doing!> she complained

<You can’t just make accusations like that and kill him!> he replied sternly

“What is this Jarys…Chk’Tr…you’ve know Chk’tr for years!” Keison protested

Jarys paused…he had, he didn’t want to believe it…he was looking into Kiraea’s eyes…there was more than a little hurt that he doubted her judgement because of his trust in an Outsider.

“If she says he’s a spy…” Jarys sighed…he had not come here to kill anyone…it had been so exciting seeing them so positive, really living….

He turned to Keison

“…then he’s a spy…” he released his grip and let Kiraea push into the diminutive creatures mind.

“I…I…”  Chk’Tr fell to the floor squeaking, not from Kiraea's assault but from his own guilt

“They had my pups…”

<<<<>>>>

Keison

His heart dropped into an Abyss…it wasn’t the betrayal…it was the lack of trust…why hadn’t Chk’Tr just come to him…asked for help…

“Brother…what did you tell them?”

Before a reply could come the galaxy ended.

<<<<>>>>

Kandas

“Dren…how long!”

“3 minutes to real space translation TaunTaun!”

Something was very wrong, the internal comms system was down – for a new if stolen ship this could be a technical fault, but their wireless link was down too, and Mynock hadn’t reported back from the Engine room

<<<<>>>>

Surge

Advancing to the main bridge bashing through blast doors that had been closed to bar his path, Surge came face to face with the ship’s Captain.

[Objective 2.3.1]

Audio-Communication issued from the Chagrians vocal generators…meaning interpreted by his auditory processes indicated a solemn refusal to assist or surrender regardless of threats or violence.

Defiance was irrelevant, Surge commenced the pacification gripping the captains head in his right hand squeezing the skulls into a slushy mess of blood and fractured bone.

[>>>Objective 2.3.1 Complete…administering dopamine]

Pleasure sensations stimulated the biological components of hind and mid brain to remain active and contribute to achieving objectives.

[Scanning…DL-32 X4 NightStar-3 X2>>>Threat Analysis>>>Minimal>>>Status: Detected: Pacifying]
The bridge crew pulled side arms – they did not understand – he is Surge he completes objectives – resistance is futile - blaster bolts glide past as he strafes to each in turn, with fists and elbow he breaks them.  

Spines snap, skulls mash, throats are rent out, bodies lie in a pile in the centre of the deck.

[>>>Objective 2.3.2 Complete…administering dopamine]

Scomp link plugging into the captains station he took full control of the Jewel of Jobla, deactivating the life support systems he did not require.

Sub-space signals he had received moments before integrated with the ships navigational data allowing him to plot the course for Objective 2.3.3.

<<<<>>>>

Freebalde

Coming out of hyperspace the Freebalde does not fully decelerate.  It’s over charged port thrusters redirect it to Station Hondo.

A half real-space realised cruiser slices through two frigates vaporizing their cores in an instant, leaving behind heat fused blobs that had once been aft and stern.  Dozens of support vessels, light freighters and transports are buckled like tin cans under tank tread by the shockwave.

A training flight of 12 StarVipers taken with Hondo Station bubble against the shields of the knife through the space.

The Ironsmith, a reliable old Trade Federation Industrial construction carrier, covered in docks, plasma cutters and Arc-welders to repair capital ships and orbital stations is struck in the engines. The white orange bloom as the ionization reactor detonates is brief – the after image permanently embeds on the retina of the few beings who are unlucky enough to be looking.

The Freeblade is still moving, its shields finally fail and it is just a solid projectile, a mass of jagged metal punching through past Ironsmith leaving the orange irradiated cloud behind in a rough V whose wings part nearly 100KM across and further as the wreckage spirals without nearby gravity wells to tug the vectors with any significance.

More ships were destroyed by this shrapnel than the Freeblade up to this point.

Metal screeched, melted and liquefied to plasma as it strikes the core of Hondo Station.  Workers installing hyper drives on the outside never even saw it.

The Cruiser is rent to pieces within, the friction tearing it to its central horizontal structural beams that jutted out and continued their path into empty space on the other side of the station.

Hondo station split asunder, fires bloomed where oxygen storage cylinders erupt, backup power cells ruptured purple and blue against the still orange streaks of the Ironsmiths core.

The station suffers integral gravimetric failure and drops out of stable spin. Star Fighters just scrambled are caught in the pinwheel of annihilation that follows, transports just off the ferrocrete slam into the hangar walls that spin to meet them.  It begins to rend itself apart in the unstoppable churn of its own momentum.  

Information about what had happened had not yet reach the remaining viewers brains from their visual sensors before the first ships of Jol Boos, Aur Hondo’s second in command, Armada arrived.

<<<<>>>>

Xithar

Well done Hondo, well done he might’ve praised as the feed from Boos command ship streamed in.  

Hondo was taking it right to the Sons heart, and now left the other Vigos with a choice, chip in and share a little glory, or refuse and let Hondo take the Triumph for destroying Keison and his band.

He had dominated this move of the never ending dejarik of Black Sun politics, Xithar had to admit it…but no matter, Xithar dominated the Game, having already set Hondo as kidnapper of the now used clones with Lyrs message…there was still a strong likelihood some of Milaea’s kind would follow that lead…and break Hondo in the process saving Xithar the trouble.

His other self-slipped out from the pool, water cascading down the knee length hair – to cut it would be mutilation on such a perfect form – taking his breath away with the beauty of its figure, the firm and perfectly curved breast, long and strong limbs, perfectly designed visage….

Let Hondo have his trophies of the defeated Sons…

She was the only piece in the Game worth holding…

<<<<>>>>

[Karmack]

The fall of the Sons...    Tragic. 

I am wondering how Jarys and Kiraea's presence will effect the attack - and how the attack is going to affect them.

Tight, LSG.  Very tight.  For a second I confused "Scrounger" with "Scrubber", but once my brain caught up I was OK.  Still, a nice touch of continuity with Dutchman's naming conventions for the Son's members.  Its easy to see the seeds of what happens in "Gray and Unchained" here.  And yet...


This is not going to end well.

[Lord_S_Gray]

The fall of the Sons...    Tragic. 

I am wondering how Jarys and Kiraea's presence will effect the attack - and how the attack is going to affect them.

Tight, LSG.  Very tight.  For a second I confused "Scrounger" with "Scrubber", but once my brain caught up I was OK.  Still, a nice touch of continuity with Dutchman's naming conventions for the Son's members.  Its easy to see the seeds of what happens in "Gray and Unchained" here.  And yet...


This is not going to end well.

Yeah I felt continuity was important...they are trying to do what Scrubber does 600 years later...they just got caught before they could succeed....

I just realized I missed a 'Surge' section but updated just in time to put it at the start of Part 2 kind of important for that character!!!

[Karmack]

Surge intrigues me.   Whoever/whatever it is, I feel sorry for it.  It is a slave, as much as anyone can be...

[Lord_S_Gray]

Chapter 39 — Eclipse of the Sons — Conflagration

Part 1

Conflagration

Munitions fill the void like a blizzard of green plasma upon the scattered remnants of the Sons fleet.

Over a hundred ships under Jol Boos, second in command to Aur Hondo vomit bright energy and spit light into the confused mess of the Sons flotilla – they are frantic, moving all over the place not knowing whether to look for survivors, fight back or flee.

Turbo-lasers find their mark - ships burst in the darkness - their detonations attempting to rival the masterpiece of annihilation that preceded them, the flaming wreck that was Hondo Station and the Freeblade.

The Unchained breaks up at first, the port hull eaten away by concentrated fire of three dozen craft till a stray shot primes and detonates the core.  Its sister ship Abolition is shielded from the backwash of the explosion - but enemy guns reach it, pulping the drive section – vents and engine belts explode, breaching the hull from within, the burst of released pressure when it hits void tears the stern inside out. 

The force of the blast throws the ruined tug forward on a pressure wave that slams it into a troop transport cutting it in two and sending 80 bodies into the abyss.

The Sons are flying blind. They are fighting blind. They scream challenges, defiance and threats into the burning void through shorted comms systems. 

Boos forces move inward, half a dozen interdictor ships turn their gravity wells on and off at random intervals - protected by three dozen mercenary frigates they scramble navicomputers and deny any attempt to reach hyperspace.

Two ships side by side unleashing broadsides like ancient mariner ships tearing each other deck by deck. In the dark corners of the engineering chambers dozens of labourers slave away with furious effort on both ships, on the left they are driven by obedience to a master’s lash, on the other they are driven by defiance of the very lash they know sits in the ship opposite. 

Both crews, dirty, grunting, sweating are wiped away when the prow of a covervette, its bridge a debris cloud 500 km away, careers prow first through both ships in turn, chance sparks still alive in vented oxygen ignites a promethium store that cascade into another ships Turbo laser charge battery.  From the yellow blue yet never green explosion chunks of plating burst out, some the size of mag trains imparted with the velocity of a top line Starfighter to chain into half a dozen other cruisers and carriers in their path.

In Crimson Casino Hondo is feted a genius, on Nal Hutta the Hutt Council celebrate in oily glee, looking forward to their cut from the on loan ships and the increased profitability from reduced raids. 

In the cold depths around the station six of the seven thousand Sons of Kessel who began the day will be killed. 

A Thousand Sons remain.

<<<<>>>>

Goush

“Continue firing, maintain position,”

Goush ignored the orders to close and seek out each ship one by one, he hasn’t had Blood Remembers just repaired to see it destroyed on the job that is to pay for said repairs.  He still owes Vigo Xithar 300,000 credits, this job was meant to provide 200,000 toward that – 100,000 from Hondo’s lackey Boos, and 100,000 from Xithar who had arranged for Goush to be hired as part of the armada to keep an eye on Boos and Hondo.

He gazed over the trophy racks - still depleted of Anathema heads – at the scene of devastation before him.

This is his chance to get back on top after Myrkr.  His force is still depleted and rumours the Anathema want him specifically makes recruitment both easier in that he got more volunteers from the more psychopathic Ubese itching to whet their blade in Anathema throats, and more difficult as the more cautious warriors – usually the better quality – avoided him.

This would seal his renewal, as another Frigate shredded itself into flakes beneath his sustained fire he locked eyes on the impaled wreck of Hondo Station, the final target for obliteration.  It cannot come soon enough.

<<<<>>>>

Jarys

He….

~~~~~~~

…came out of the blackness, iron tang of blood in his mouth, tears in his eyes, agony in his back and ribs. 

He blacked out there, slid away into the fog of unconsciousness.

The stations air pumps are fighting to restore on board atmospheric pressure against the voids insatiable drain.  Hazard lamps flash, he can see Xoar dead about five metres away, his head is twisted the wrong way, beyond him three Brothers sit with their heads resting against each other like  soused friends back from a drunken shore leave.  They are covered in blood, every inch apart from the whites of their glazed straining eyes.

Move…a panicked primal scream commands him.  A slab of something on his back prevents him, keeping his face flattened on the grated deck, chevron pattern biting into his cheek.

Move…arms, strain to lift, mind reaches past haze of confusion to grab at whatever is on him and throws it. Relief floods along his spine to be relieved of the pressure but protests to have to bear the weight of his head trying to sit.

He feels for his helmet…it is still here…he puts it on, a small hiss against the maddening roar of bleeding atmosphere.

At first he thinks the HUD is malfunctioning, he cannot see…then he realises it’s the blood from his head covering his eyes…before he can start a healing flow the blackness overtakes him once more.

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

“Time to get up Kiri!”

She didn’t want to- she was comfortable here, the thick woollen gormin rug soft against her skin.

“Come on you have to get up!” she feels the swaying as Yorna tugs her back and forth

“No…don’t wanna!” she replies, she wants to sleep in…the Gormin are being noisy - they sound like alarm klaxons

“Kiri! You need to get up and help them right now,” Her face is right in hers, her sister’s scent so familiar and comforting. 

Kiraea doesn’t want to, she wants to go back to sleep…but it’s ok there is room in the rug for both of them.

“Wake UP!”

<<<<>>>>

Eyes open to a blood stained floor…her nose is right in it, her head feels sharp and painful…something wet is on her face…the smell is rich, iron, proteins, hormones…it’s her blood.

With a jolt she sits upright, it disturbs the coagulation of the wound on her forehead spilling more rich crimson across her left eye.

Everything is destroyed…bodies tossed by an invisible giants hands, consoles spark impaled by I beams…she grabs her helmet against her sore hips checking herself over mentally…bruises but the armour took the brunt.  Clipping it on she looks around for Yorna…she was just here…

“You awake!” a strange squat brown creature walks up to her like something from a dream…it must be a dream…it’s a troll she thinks, maybe she is under the bridge by the Kiln Village?

“Help me lift…we need to go!”
It talks too…strange…she looked around for a stick to poke it with….as her head moved about she started to remember where she was…

“Jarys…”

“Here!” he points a stubby finger, “I can’t lift him!”  Of course it can’t it’s too weak…where was she…the spy the little rodent thing…then something…it didn’t matter…they had to go and go now.

More groans echoed across the room…that one was…Keison…and Komo the Aqualish…

“Erghhh…” her legs complained against the weight of her torso as she stood, her eyes flicked to the HUD activating the Karintha’s remote systems…

[DANGER COLLISION IMPACT]  No dren…she activated the tracking to pick them up as she hefted Jarys bulky form with the aether.  The Psadan was lifting others,

“Mumbles! I’ll get them, just follow!” she called, mumbles was his name right? She looked out of the fracturing trasnparisteel upon the devastation outside, a green, yellow and red painting upon a black canvas…every moment more lives were winking out of the aether poeticially proceeded by white blue flares of explosions that dimmed the stars around them. 

She didn’t want to join them. 

There was no way for the Karintha to get them here…they needed to move somewhere with an air lock or pad to land on.  She took control of the ship with one level of thought while scanning the stations layout with the other…OK a few options…if they weren’t destroyed…

Coughing from the corner…the spy was alive…Komo the Aqualish made a vile screech at it, Mumbles moved to attack but she held him back…

“No Jarys was right…we should wait learn what he knows,” she gripped him in the aether tightly – she didn’t have to be gentle about it though.

<<<<>>>>

Surge

[>>>Objective 2.3.4 Complete…administering dopamine]
Surge stretched back out from the escape pod, arc was 0.3 degrees off anticipated course. Failure within acceptable margin of error to avoid Sanction.
[Secondary Objectives: Confirm or Administer Death :Target >> Keison]

Flipping lithely through the groaning beams as the station slowly faltered, the void no difficulty for his cybernetically sealed form.  Scrolls of text predicted Keison body would most likely be on the command deck – [84.6%].

[Active Scan: Life-Forms Detected>>>Analysing>>>Interference, Thermal Species Identification Accuracy Compromised>>>Secondary Objective: Eliminate Survivors Prioritised>>>]
>>>Executing.

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

This was getting annoying, every upside down half vented corridor they came through she seemed to find another one alive amidst the corpses…now she had neatly stacked rows of twelve beings hovering behind her. 

The Psadan Mumbles lead the way, they were moving fast but cautiously, having to divert frequently to avoid the vented regions of the ship….it would be easy for her to get out, her Armour was void capable, she could fly to the Karintha with the aether…

But these Outsiders meant something to Jarys…she owed it to her mate to respect his desire to preserve life as he had with Kassyndra…she would tie him beneath her and make him lick his way to making up for the inconvenience later.

“Heeellp,”

“Another one!” 

Mumbles ran over to the Yinchorri, “Trill! Let us help you,” his beady eyes glanced to her again. With a shrug she lifted the blob of ugly alien flesh up. 

There was a weird feeling of thanks from them…she was saving their lives…despite her conflicted feelings…She wondered what Yorna would do…she vaguely remembered the dream…she’d said help ‘them’…she was always the nicer one…Kiraea wasn’t jealous so much of Yorna as ashamed at her own selfishness…Yorna was always better…everything would’ve been better if it had been her who survived.

“We go we Go!” Mumbles mumbled

“Alright…” at a half jog they twisted down the corridors, used the aether to lower the survivors down the turbo lift shafts as the pounding and creaking of the station got louder and louder.   It was coming apart slowly, like a geological process, gravity would win against the hubris of sentient edifices.

“Argh…ways blocked!” Mumbles yelled scouting ahead, They were just a deck above where she had positioned the Karintha, docked to an exterior access port. “Through the med centre!”

Pushing in she saw bodies already wounded and emaciated from the abuse of slavers now wrecked and splattered by the damage to the station…most of them though were.

“Females…pleasure slaves they call ‘em…” Mumbles sorting through the rubble that half floated in the damaged gravity for anything of use for the injured.

A spark – hope in the aether…a pile of bodies...she tugged at the small light within a frail looking teenage human still alive but with several broken bones. Mumbles rushed over to her.

“Alright love…alright…we get you safe…get you safe…”

Kiraea’s throat choked with tears…that could’ve been her…was dozens of her friends she would never see again. 

And these, the little troll, the funky smelling Aqualish…Outsiders she couldn’t overcome her disgust for helped them with a passion that set her unsympathetic dismissals to shame…

Yorna would’ve cared, she was more compassionate, maternal in the image of Aephrodaea of the hearth and home…what right did Kiraea have seducing a kind strong male like Jarys - he would’ve been far happier with Yorna, she would’ve enthusiastically helped him and his Outsider frien…

The door at the far end boomed open.  A titan in black-green, festooned with mechanical pieces and small red lights reached round its metal sheen body to pull a weapon that was somehow part of its own shoulder blade.

“GET DOWN!”

<<<<>>>>

Surge

[Target Detected>>> Casualties X 18 Threat Analysis>>>Minimal>>>
[Target Detected>>> Psadan: Aqaulish: Yinchorri Entity Not Otherwise Classified Threat Analysis>>>Substantial >>>Armament Selection – Rifle – Engage]
Surge fired off precise clean shots from his integrate rifle…something was wrong, they were not following their assigned vectors…objects were moving toward him…
[Intercept Vector Calculated: Projectile Glass: 4X unknown…scanning error]

Three daggers Surge beat aside, the fourth hit but shattered against his synth-skin. 

Entity-Not-Otherwise-classified [ENOC] moved rapidly toward him with a short sword, his sensors became confused by the bodies behind it as they moved of their own accord followed by the Psadan and his companions.

[Recalibrating visual sensors]

[ENGAGEMENT]

Predicative software packages initialized tracking the ENOC movements while his bladed gauntlets sprung from forearm sheaths to deflect her blows.

[Enhancing speed 45%]

Targeting Humanoid standard critical appendages he unleashed a 6 strike combo toward the head – first strike met resistance – Armour – not otherwise classified. Strikes 2-5 missed the target as it reduced its Y axis position, its right manipulator arm moving more rapidly than his left motile limb.

 [DAMAGE SUSTIANED>>Femur.Left Femur.RightServo 40% Output increase>>>compensating]

[Analysis No Match>>>Default CQC Protocol]

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

She was not really at her best…still this thing was a pain!

She could hear the servo’s of its power armour granting it the boost needed to match her speed, it used its size and rapid punching attacks to try and get her against the wall, limit her movements. 

Its bladed fists slammed into the partition, tearing the already damaged internal wall apart completely, she glided back in the low gravity letting off an aetheric blast – at least droids can’t…

<<<<>>>>

Surge

Parts of his brain usually supressed lit up in response to the shift in the…in the
<aether>
[Prefrontal Initiation – Reducing suppressants >>>0%]

Prefrontal activation was required for access to motor-cortex functions related to Telekinetic counter measures

The ENOC twisted and twirled over the gurneys, launching bodies and instruments at Surge.  Most he ignored, a few of the larger of deadlier ones he diverted.  The Operating system focused solely on self-preservation when threatened.

[Secondary Target increasing X Axis distance]

ENOC charged up with an aetheric fist that he caught in his own.

[Initiating OverCharge] secondary power cores whirled then overflowed into an energy blackwash against the ENOC - if flew back with the voltage as motile limbs carried him to complete its pacification

[Enhancing speed 100%]

The damaged ENOC returned to the fight with enthusiasm blasting at him with the aether…it did no good, in its damaged state he was more than capable of deflecting it.  Surge stored images of the ENOC to file under [Extreme] threat should he encounter a fully functional one.

It’s fists and blade hammered against his armoured synth skin to little effect…He was Surge he was given all necessary tools to complete all Objectives with minimal damage.

[Active Scanning: Electrical Build Up:]
<wait…>

<<<<>>>>