Click here for lightsabers
  • Home
  • Help
  • Login
  • Register
Pages: 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 ... 20   Go Down
Author Topic: Fate of the Aether  (Read 72818 times)
Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #45 on: July 31, 2018, 03:08:44 AM »

Chapter 12 — Roads Less Travelled — Attrition
Part 2

Soryu

They kept focused on the main target as the Vornskrs broke away.
“They’re trying to flank us!” called the Devoronian Mayii

Instantly they wheeled back into a defensive circle of glowing blades. 

No, Soryu could sense them getting further away…the front of the pack was too far to turn back on them in time to be effective now. 

“They’re retreating,” he called over the constant patter of the rain on the leaves, what few bits of cloth and even leather he had on his armour were soaked through, his boots despite being ‘water proof’ felt squishy, toes cold.

Yshrrk made a low moan ordering them onwards, not forgetting to add another quick distrustful glance toward Soryu.

They deactivated their blades and started to gather pace when Mayii suddenly pivoted, blade alight in deep amber she sliced through a large globular object coming at her head.

It proved to be the wrong strategy.  The sabre sliced through it with ease but before it hit the ground the bee like insects in the outer sections were already pouring out.  Go-Sem and Hrmin pushed them away with the force as Soryu checked their other flank.  Turning back a dark figure flew out of the trees straight at Yshrrk.

In what was perhaps the most insane thing Soryu had ever seen Jarys had tackled the near three metre tall wookie to the ground, Arlec Tri and Baran Tha immediately lit their blades and moved forward to attack from behind, but were belayed by Yshrrk himself.

<Caution> he growled as he pushed back against the Aethan.  The only reason anyone would be crazy enough take a Wookie High Sentinel head on and hand to hand was if they had some other trap lined up to deal with the others.  As the bees flew off they kept a defensive position watching the furious melee on the ground.

Mud and dirt flew up along with rain that had soaked into Yshrrk’s fur as they battered each other with reams of elbows and knees, it would be too dangerous to try and intervene at this point, wet heavy smacks punched through the air over the incessant down pour and mingled with grunts and growls. 

Deep red as blood spilled from one if not both of the combatants in one of the most vicious, intimate fights Soryu had ever seen…it was hard not to stare at it, let alone try and discern what trap was laid for them. 

A heavy crack sounded as someone broke a bone, the fight had gone on too long…perhaps.

“There is no trap!  That is the trap!” Soryu cried realising Jarys best bet was to take them one on one making the others think there was some other threat coming to keep them out of it.  He ran forward, deactivating his blade which would be a danger to everyone once he entered the fray.

Before the cool green light had died down he hit the activator to sear away the projectile screaming in the air.  His sabre hit dead on but didn’t budge with any imparted kinetic energy. Arlec Tri did the same, but Go-Sem was not so swift, his vornskr bitten arm slowing his reaction as a glinting glass dagger stuck out from his left eye socket…but it produced no pain response. 

An explosion ripped from behind them, Mayii and Hrmin turned to face it, but it yielded no heat…They were all force illusions to keep them from interfering.

“They’re not real, ignore them!” Soryu screamed over the tumult.

Arlec Tri leapt up only to suddenly flop into a huge puddle splashing Go-Sem and Mayii, out of his forehead was a dagger that was no illusion at all. 

There was a trap after all.  A combination of real and fake rocks, daggers and grenades began to assail them.  How Jarys could keep fighting Yshrrk whilst producing such illusions reminded Soryu realise just how outmatched they were.  The illusions may not be well crafted, but in the dark rain you couldn’t tell till they were already on you, he lowered his guard last second as he saw a false blocky knife slide through his arm without impact.

A low rumble from Yshrrk, he had to step in…chancing that the majority were illusions – how many daggers could he truly carry - he raced forward…a mere step away from leaping into help when Milaea appeared right in front of his face,

“Stop!” She cried.

He staggered in sheer fright and fell back tripping on the wet leaves. As soon as he was down she was gone.

<<<<>>>>

Jarys
He tugged at the wookies arm trying to find purchase on the slick armour and fur, for all their thrashing few blows had been landed, it didn’t matter  it bought time for Kiraea to reach him.  He kept two levels of consciousness on the fight with the wookie two on creating more aetheric illusions, one directing the few real weapons he had floating around and the final one scanning his surrounds.

He had already stabbed this beast twice and broken it upper left arm but it kept fighting, heavy blows softened by mud and slick as aetheric blasts, pushes and pulls churned the soil around them into an ever widening lake of mud and grit.

He was running low on real weapons - he detonated his first grenade near the Phidian, the shockwave slammed it back and elicited cries of surprise - quickly spun his head from the wookies reach and landed another gut blow, receiving a solid crushing grip on his calf in return.

Jarys slid his last real knife low beneath a half dozen illusions at the Devoronian – the aliens focus to defend the head and torso let the real thing slice her knee open.  He kept the real dagger moving but Soryu quickly sliced it apart.

He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he had one grenade and his blaster for a final escape…he really needed Kiraea.

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea
They didn’t seem to be following her…yet...

No doubt they would get out of the Ysalimiri null bubble then pick up her trail.

Jarys seemed in a lot of trouble, burning through concentration and energy, she moved quick as she could soaked as she was, the Lasat’s claws had left her with a painful limp.

“Urghh Just Keep Moving!” she said to herself. 

An explosion rocked the ground up ahead, giving her a boost of energy to push on.  She was not going to let Jarys get killed, at least not until she’d had her way with him a few dozen times!

With Karintha’s subtlety she probed forward…seven Jedi…no six as one dropped dead…one…very big one…

Biting back the pain she sprinted forward and tossed her short sword ahead of her with her last Shikkar, stretched out her hand and opened fire.

Blazing blue energy lit the surrounds as she leapt up and over the conflagration she had just unleashed.  The Jedi turned to the hate fuelled flames as she moved the two blades straight at beating hearts, quadrupling their kinetic energy with the aether.

The alien Jedi beneath her looked up stunned, turning quicker than Kiraea anticipated Kiraea pivoted to dodge the sabre, coming down on his shoulder with an echoing crack.  Her short sword struck straight into a Devoronian, her shikkar unable to penetrate the older bald humans armour, but the imparted energy enough to knock him back. 

Quickly glancing down to the struggling form below, she noted the race and with a feline scratch shredded the re-breather off the Kel-Dors face before stamping on its chest and summoning its yellow sabre to her own hand, leaving it choke.

Re-surveying the situation she flung the energy sword at the wrestling match Jarys had gotten himself into, only to see it defected by the recovered bald Jedi who was backed by a Phidian and Whiphid.  Kiraea darted to the side firing off a stream of lighting. 

Caught on their blades easily it kept them pinned as she moved the blue flames that were unaffected by rain behind her to surround them, they passed under her harmlessly - you could not be burnt by your own hate.

She felt Jarys relief in the aether and a second wind come over him.  Blue light erupted in the muddy pit as he activated a lightning shield, the wookie roared and leapt out, the smell of burnt hair filling her nose. 

Speeding straight to Jarys as he rose on unsteady legs peripheral senses caught the other Jedi approaching.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda
He came upon a disaster.  two Jedi dead, two injured, Yshrrk rolling in the mud trying to put out his scorched fur, Soryu trying to find a way to use the force to suppress the blue flames that surrounded him and the others.

Yoda had done little better, Rwh’an could not walk, both ankles filled with glassy fragments,  Hummu’s skin was ghostly as some kind of infection from the spear spread, Sintats right shoulder was broken and Karmins face was such a bloody mess he couldn’t see.

The female sailed on force wings dipping her hand to catch the male Aethan up, as they did the electrical shield that crackled around him was joined by one of her own.  They stood hand in hand, and raised their outer hands.

“DOWN!” he screamed.

Everyone dived into the churned mud as waves of lighting crackled over their heads, as the blue flames redirected to create a barrier between the Aethans and Jedi. 

Yoda gritted his teeth, tasting grimy mud as stray bolts scorched his armour.  They had done incredible damage for being so outnumbered…he had no confidence he could win this fight without severe losses.  He had little choice.

He leapt up hands spread and pushed back against all the lighting he could.  The stream twisted and distorted around an invisible ball, white hot in the centre.  Pressure from the conflicting energies pushed the air out sending the rain straight into his face.  Still he pushed on drawing on all the life Force energies the fertile jungle offered. 

He glanced to Soryu who was crawling through the mud, caked in dirt and gave a slight nod forward, he needed them to strike while he had their attention and energy wrapped up….Soryu rose to a crouch.

A flicker of understanding in the force…they were listening…A sudden surge in the lighting caught him off guard…yet it wasn’t to counter his energy but to prime…

He flew off his feet as the clashing powers detonated with a gale force blast of kinetic and electrical energy, tumbling over and over he finally ended on a tree trunk for the second time that night as he watched the far more graceful Aethans ride the pressure wave through the canopy and into the night.

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea
Kiraea kept their momentum up with occasionally bursts as they sailed over the treetops on the wave, finally guiding them to a semi controlled landing in a small clearing where a rocky patch of soil offered no purchase for plants to root.

She scanned him to see if he was injured…apart for some bruising and general soreness he seemed fine.

She staggered up on her wounded leg, quickly pulling out her Quantam Entanglement comm, fingers rapidly sending out a signal to the others.

“You alright,” she called behind her “We need to move,”

No response,

“Are you injured,” she turned around, Jarys just sat there staring into the forest with mad intensity.

“War…” he growled in a deeper voice than she had ever heard from him

“I came here to start a life and they bring me WAR…” 

He burst up and tossed off his ruined top with a 400 metre plus throw over the trees.

He had come here to do good, to make something, To LIVE…and they hunted them like animals and offended a FEMALE!

“If they think we’re animals…” the words seethed from his jaw like the growl of a cornered vorynx

“I’ll show them a true Beast.”

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #46 on: August 04, 2018, 06:24:25 PM »

...And so the sleeping giant awakens.  Even though Yoda was absent during the Night of Madness, one would think that he'd learn vicariously from the ramifications of others... OR, maybe this is part of his (brilliant) backstory that influences him, shapes him, makes him the grand master we see in the movies (again: the subtlety of Yoda's almost obdurate blindness underscores the traits that we see in the Prequel trilogy).  And now, he's got Jarys attention...

But, once again, it's Soryu who I feel the most about/for.  He's definitely conflicted between his duty to the Order and that to himself (and by that extension, Sofa and Miliea).  I have to wonder just where the Order would be had it listened to Jedi like Soryu... Instead, I'm reminded that this is (maybe not the exact same people but) the same organization that initiated and accepted the expulsion of the Mak'Tor.  I hope that Soryu can learn from this...

Once again LSG, awesome, just awesome  Smiley
Logged

Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

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

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #47 on: August 06, 2018, 02:24:40 PM »

I am echoing Dutchman.   Soryu, more than anyone else, is stuck between a rock and a hard place, his personal ethos in direct and continuing conflict with his Order.  I have to wonder how long he will be able to maintain in this situation.

And a Jedi/Aethan war?  Not good....    Jarys is reverting to beast mode....   
Logged

signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #48 on: August 08, 2018, 04:29:12 AM »

Chapter 13 — Captures
Lyr
He had expected one of the ‘them’ to come along for the first shipment…but he could see the logic in keeping it as low profile as possible.

And then there was whatever they had done on Coruscant…he’d only been in contact with Maynard for the last month although apparently there were now more of them,

“Four new ones…one a girl Jedi, one a Guardian, Jarys, Valens brother I think,” Maynard had said

“Oh…joy” Lyr had replied,

“Maeson a farmer that looks more like a gladiator and Selaena, an older woman, Lyaea’s mother,” 

“They lucked out there,”

“Yes they did,” Maynard had replied firmly, Lyr liked him, an old thief with a shysters cunning, they would often toast to the dear departed Myzm while Xandra Maynard and Churi fussed over Nxi. Yet Colm Maynard had a deep attachment to the girls and seemed to genuinely love them…perhaps not unlike how Lyr felt about Nxi and Churi.

“Anyway, they are tied up so you’ll have to pick it up yourself…I’ll rendezvous at Station 3.” Station 3 was one of eight automated cargo hubs that ferried goods to the deep core by circuitous routes to avoid anyone following them. 

Lyr piloted the Deft Player as cautiously as possible, much like he had when Nxi was first born…odd how the presence of infants can do that. 

The cargo hold was crammed with of 20 ‘units’ as the Kaminoans termed them…10 male and 10 female infants floating gently in their tubes…the first of their new generation…he couldn’t help but think he was overseeing the start of the end of galaxy…yet when he thought of the galaxy he had lived in…the Hutts, the violence…perhaps that was for the best.

With the Aethans occupied he and Maynard decided it was best to use Lyr’s ship rather than a Kaminoan one or Maynards Chiss one, Chiss ships Maynard had noted with an Aethan maxim ‘would stand out like a pink Gormin’.

Gliding along the Corellian run for what must’ve been the hundredth time, Churi and Nxi were asleep in the main bedroom. Hopefully this would be as boring and uneventful as any other run…yet he couldn’t help but fear things were coming to an end…once they had the clones…would they still need him? And if they didn’t need him…how long before Kiraea was let loose on him….

RED!

Alarms blared and the lights wen red as they dropped out of hyperspace suddenly, jolting violently in his seat almost slamming his head into the console.

“What the Kirffing Frelling Tralk Licking Hutts Breath!” 

Hitting full reverse he stabilised, unable to make out any nearby planets or stars….but…

“Frell My Grandmother Sideways….”  He had seen ships like that when he worked for Myzm…Deep red with black highlights, the symbol of a perfect black sphere ringed in white and yellow fire…

The Black Sun…and worse…the Nova Corps…their elite.

He checked the navigation computer, about midway between Drukenwell and Rhommamool…this was targeted…someone knew he would be here…

The ship shuddered again, a metal screech sounded as Churi ran in and he heard Nxi start to bawl,

“What’s happening” she looked frazzled half dressed, her lekku twitching

This was it…his number was finally up,

“Sweetness we’re about to be boarded, take Nxi to the escape pod right now with the emergency kit…if they start to dock with you…”

He stepped forward and kissed her forehead passing her his blaster,

“Don’t let them take you alive,”

“But…”

“Don’t,” he said firmly, “Just go.”

She leaned in and kissed him deeply, then turned and fled.

As he heard the escape pod jettison and the ship rumble as the boarders cut in he had only one consolation – that the Vigo stupid enough to attack him and by extension the Aethans would get to enjoy all the suffering Kiraea had planned for Lyr.

<<<<>>>>

“Lyr’Ca’Njo…why how long has it been…nearly twenty years…everyone thought Myzm had finally eaten you!”  the Falleen beamed at the twi’lek, “Shame how he died…nasty eyes burnt out…”

After Churi and Nxi had launched he hadn’t resisted, there was no point, if he damaged the tubes the Aethans would kill him, if he fought back the Black Sun would kill him…he only had one recourse…to try and talk his way out of it.

Fortunately…well probably fortunately, Lyr knew the Vigo from years back before working for the Aethans…Xithar of the Black Sun…

“Ah but I should’ve known you’d slither you’re way out of trouble…tell me who got you involved in…” Xithar ran a finger along one of the clone tubes…”This?”

As much as Lyr wanted to spill the answers to save his life for a few more seconds Valens programming wouldn’t let him…his tongue choked up and his head started to pound.

“Well now, I don’t remember you being to taciturn before…” the Falleen gripped his face in his hand…a mental push…but it wasn’t the usual push of Valens force powers it was…Xithar?

“Ah…now that is interesting…”  Xithar went on

“Very talented whoever put those blocks in…who was it..”

His mouth was frozen shut but an unseen impulse in his own mind spoke for him

“You…” Lyr spat, “You have no idea who you’re messing with Xithar,”

“Well I wouldn’t be so sure my old friend…” he replied nonchalantly

“They’ll rip you into tiny pieces and ram you up your own exhaust port…” he threatened with a voice only half his own…

“Will they indeed,” Xithar was staring at him in an unusual way, he felt a black, dripping wetness caress his mind probing at the oblivion cliffs of Valens mental barriers.

“Yes…very well made…but I can work within your limits Lyr…” The Falleen stood and held out a hand, the Nova Guard placed a stylish looking comm in it,

“You’re going to introduce me to your Masters Lyr’Ca’Njo,”

<<<<>>>>

Xithar

Now he understood the false name Myzm Auferbish…it was none other than his old friend Lyr’Ca’Njo…who else would term Myzm an underperforming waste of flabby flesh.

“Vigo,” Captain Tsen interrupted as he toyed with the small collection of personal objects in the Deft Players main bed room

“mmmmm,”

“We have recovered the escape pod, two female twi’leks detained, the ships Navicomputer has a hard wipe after each jump meaning we can’t trace where it came from…but we do have its destination,” he proffered a datapad

“Hmm…send a scout force see where it was headed then report back to me directly,”

“Your will Vigo.  All the clone pods have been loaded to the Hedonist prepped to launch to continue to the Demagol in 14 minutes,” the Captain finished as Xithar used his elongated nails to slice through a stuffed wampa - you never knew where people might hide their secrets…

“Very well, leave a squad to search this ship then scuttle it, I will depart immediately,”

<<<<>>>>

His Twi’lek brother-in-crime had a disgusted look on his face dampening the mood, he should be happier like the brightly coloured wall paper of his Nimban mansion.  It was not as if he was treating him to the same favours as his Herglic friend –yet -though the wyrms were getting hungry.

“Oh come now Lyr, it’s not all bad…” Xithar gave the Sephis rear a gratuitous squeeze as she lowered a plate of perfectly chilled Arguyna fillet.

“The Green of your skin goes well with the purple you know,” Lyr replied having lost none of his humour despite being quite tied up and upside down.
 
“Anyway, good to see you’re still flying the exhibitionists flag Xithar.” Referring to the fact the Sephi was naked.

“Oh I try my best,” he added wiping his mouth with a towel provided by the walking oxymoron – Lyr’s Wife!

So far he hadn’t gotten much out of Lyr, the mental defences were quite powerful…nonetheless the particular items he had found with him…twenty force sensitive infants most now en-route to the Siniteen Darth Sicara on his ship the Demagol for analysis…well Sicara thought he was a Darth anyway.

“You really should try a Sephi Lyr, I have few spares around if you like, I never had one myself till just recently, I regret not trying before…very smooth skin, and those cute pointed ears!”

“How generous, I hate to break it to you but whilst you could normally sway me with sex…the programming they inflicted on me…”

“Oh yes I know, but I don’t want to flaunt it in your face and be ungracious enough not to share,” he rounded on Lyr’s wife, trailing his fingers along her lekku…

“Do you like to share too Lyr?”

“Go ahead you reptile, I’ve been used by worse than you,” the defiant woman replied

“I doubt that,” Xithar chuckled,

“You won’t get anywhere by threatening my family either,” Lyr added,

“Oh I know my friend I know…that I do for the pure joy of it.  And I know they won’t ransom you either,”

“Then why keep me alive,”

Xithar sighed…only a Sith could truly understand…

<<<<>>>>

Twenty Force Sensitive Infants…three Twi’leks…two force prodigies and a Galaxy spanning network of companies and suppliers…Lucovis had to admit it was beyond even his considerable ability to map out the intricacies of it all…

That was why he needed such servants to assist him.

On the Altar before him, face down and naked the Advozse prepared to receive the ‘Red Masters Mark’ a rubbish ritual he had invented for the Darth –Wanna-Be’s that sought him out. 

Whilst the Advozse thought the three day ritual leading up to this moment was ‘sacred’ and meaningful, Xithar had only created it to see…well just how far he could push these fools – bloodletting, ritual scarification, degrading sexual acts….it was pathetic how desperate these fools were to become his apprentice. 

The muddy yellow skin was blotched and tainted with brown dried blood, Lucovis drew forth the ancient Massassi dagger…or that was what the Advozse thought it was…

Whilst Vectivus was his True Apprentice, every True Master knew there was a plethora of dark siders out there just begging to be ordered about and willing to do anything for the chance at becoming a real Sith – and so he kept a collection of around a dozen sub-apprentices…they were all too weak and foolish to carry the true Legacy of Bane…Though with the advent of the Dark Ones perhaps it was time to reconsider the Rule of Two…but THAT was a matter to consider later…

Still they made for useful resources and diversions in the interim…and when exploited to the full he sent them to hunt Vectivus thus ensuring Vectivus was still worthy of the True Apprenticeship.

“Born weak, and pathetic…take in this pain and rise strong,” he said in his most resonant voice slicing the back of his neck open. The supplicant did not move or flinch as he pressed deeply into muscle and down to bone.

Lucovis removed the Ziost Wyrm from within the crystal pyramidal container, it bit and scratched as he lowered it to the incision…sensing fresh blood it plunged into the wound causing its new host to squirm. 

If the Advozse died he died, but if he lived…slowly the Wyrm would be degraded into a husk by his immune system, yet it would indelibly dye the recipient with a powerful force ink – it was more art than science after all - which Lucovis could control. 

Over the decades he had gradually refined the Sith Alchemical practice of Wyrm control, devising new strains, some offered direct control, tracking, surveillance…it had taken dozens of slaves fear and deaths to get right, but he was on the verge of a true break through.

Losing control of bodily functions the Advozse thrashed about expelling solids and fluids till finally settling as the Wyrm gorged itself on his internal muscles whilst expelling its force rich energies. 

“Rise…” Lucovis finally added,

“Rise Darth Yncara to Strength and Power…”

The dry voice of the new ‘dark lord’ replied quickly

“The Force has freed me…”

Fool, Lucovis thought.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #49 on: August 08, 2018, 01:06:11 PM »

OMG....     He kidnapped twenty of their BABIES?

Lucovis, you fool....

*pops some popcorn and sits back to watch the fireworks ... from several parsecs away*

In all seriousness, considering the way they react to any attack on their women I can't even begin to imagine how they'll react to someone attacking their children.  And despite myself I find myself hoping that Lyr and his family survive this encounter ... intact.

Amazing, LSG.  Loving the threads of this! 
Logged

signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #50 on: August 15, 2018, 11:55:05 PM »

Chapter 14 — Wreckage

Sofa
They had taken two jumps to a Lagrange point between the singularities – as safe as you could be in the Maw…Valens looked terrible…whatever he had gone through hadn’t just been physically draining - his drip virtually empty….mentally…he had been conscious…fully awake and concentrating for the whole three and a half days following on from five days plotting jumps constantly…that couldn’t be good even for an Aethan. 

After he had pinned Jo’Set, he had deactivated an astromech guarding the Mak’tor ship, then using the dead Ubese Capitan ident codes summoned their three ships and slaved them to their own…even wracked and depleted his mind was still sharp and strategic…the ancient Aethans had designed them well…in that respect at least.

He flopped back in his chair…she felt a little useless, so far all she had done was make sure there were water bottles and ration bars beside him.  In the cargo hold the black stone sat silently soaking up the light. Was Shilea in there? She couldn’t tell.

The sorrowful benefit of his state of exhaustion was his normal guards were down, she could feel his innermost emotions…

Guilt…despair…failure…inadequacy…

She had studied advanced counselling at the temple…her clinical judgement meticulously diagnosed him without conscious effort…he was severely depressed if not yet actively suicidal…

It didn’t excuse the way had had ostracised her…but it did explain a lot…twenty years of murder and lies instigated by genocidal levels of trauma had finally caught up with him.

Yet how could anyone help him…no conventional therapy would work on a mind steeped in a culture as…bizarre and complex as his…no one could offer grief counselling to someone who with good reason believed that the dead could be raised.

She mentally recited a calming mantra to steady herself…focus her mind as a Jedi Master should…it only partially helped…

“You need help…” she whispered

“I won’t ask what you saw there…but it didn’t make things better…if you want to talk…”

He stared blankly into the swirling blue clouds that rimmed one of the dark holes.

“I wasn’t born…” he said

That was…random…but she leaned forward to listen

“I was made…they made Aethena first…the two Aethenaeans…no mother...no father…she was to be a living Goddess…and I was the back-up plan…if she went bad I was designed to kill her.”

Milaea had told her a little about their peoples past…but this…to create a child simply to kill another…Sofa didn’t know what was more shocking, that she wasn’t really surprised by the fact they would do that, or that she had chosen to become one of them all the same.

“In lieu of that…they threw me against the Sith…I killed…and killed and killed…a weapon to protect Aethans…and I failed…I lost it all and I can’t bring them back…”

It wouldn’t have ended with Shilea and Cilina Sofa realized…it would’ve been Karintha and Yorna next…then Taran and Andis...names Sofa had never heard instinctually plucked from Valens mind…and on and on until every last one was back…

“I was made to fight, made to win….what use am I if I lose?”

She felt her cheeks wet with tears as she slouched down…his emotional state threatening to drag her down if she remained connected to him any longer. 

What have I done…my future...every cell in my body chained to a depressed psychopath. 

Half in a trance she pressed a bottle toward him and headed to the refresher…

Closing the light blue door she flopped onto the seat, head in her hands…
<<<<>>>>

Jo'Set'Mack
He raged and fought…trashed and screamed in his own head but still couldn’t move!

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you!!! You Scum bag Sith…you killed my Sister, my Master, my friends….you’re dead you’re dead!!!”

But his words never reached his tongue…the frustration was killing him…why couldn’t he move!! What dark power could keep him so confined?  .

It didn’t seem to diminish…hopefully Four eight would activate sub routine Light box any second and blow them and this foul place to pieces…

But nothing happened…

He simply floated chained within his own body watching the bodies float around the blue lights…full of rage and bile as they serenely drifted in one,
Two,
Three full orbits…

Over all the years, all the fights in which he had used the force on someone else…to manipulate their thoughts, pin their limbs…he recalled each and every instance as he floated there….

He had never stopped to consider what that must be like…to lose control of your own body…your own thoughts…

The violation…the indignity…to feel your own body rebel against you…

This he had inflicted on dozens, hundreds over the years…

Only now did he understand himself what it felt like - Trapped in his own body by someone with powers he did not understand and could not resist…

He had done this to others…

Now he knew what it was like…how could he ever…EVER…violate a person like that again…

Another full orbit passed by…he had lost count of how many that was…

Finally he crashed to the floor.

“AARRRRGGHHHHHH” the primal scream came from his very soul

<<<<>>>>

Yoda
“I want that trench finished in twenty minutes!  You, get those speeders moving!” The deep voice of Oma boomed across the camp. 

Dantooine force had arrived three hours after the skirmish, already they had 24 Jedi on the ground, tents, speeders and scanning equipment were being set up in five camps arranged in a rough circle on the edge of the 10 KM zone they had encircled. 

Delta2 fighters screeched overhead under the watchful gaze of orbital scanners, the humidity of the jungle rendered thermal detection unworkable, but their presence would deter any aerial extraction attempt. 

They would find them…it was inevitable…

Yoda gazed over the bodies beings loaded up for extraction, three Jedi dead, three injured, a poor start for his first engagement as Grand Master. Those causalities were on him, he had moved in too quickly without back up, now he had to make up for it by making sure that he got all of them – not just Jarys and the female – ALL of them.

At the far end of the Medical Tent Yshrrk was testing his arm, the glass removed from his wounds, his shoulder popped back in, the ministrations of three expert healers had him fighting fit once more…
 
There would be more deaths…it was inevitable…

At the other end helping Sintat was Soryu…he had been honest, stating the Aethan Jarys had communicated with him shortly before the attack…yet any communication was only adding to the suspicions they held about him.

“Master Yoda,” Oma’s gruff voice interrupted,
“Sentinel, speak,”
“Camps 2 and 4 are online, patrols have begun, as per your instruction six man teams at all times, the sensor net will be online in fifteen minutes”

She was a brutal woman, one of Kimars weapons of choice, but she was an excellent leader and strategist with a gift for logistics – like so many of Kimars favourites she was simply too useful to cast aside - whatever his other faults Kimar knew how to spot talent.   

“Scans cross checked with the Ardent every 15 minutes ensure, all camps operational within the hour must be.”

“It will be done Grand Master,”

<<<<>>>>

Jo'Set'Mack
His fists were pummelled into bloody pulps against the metal floor, eyes in an insensate red haze…he kicked over ancient boxes, stomped angrily on the Ubese corpses, slammed his own head into the wall…

How, How could he be so…so…shamed…dismissed!

He bit down drawing blood from his own lip in a twisted act of flagellation.

His apoplexy was only broken when Four Eight appeared chiming frantically.

He exhaled deeply ten times before his message sunk in,

“They disabled you…full reset…last orders overridden…so that’s why you didn’t…blow the station”

He fell onto his back and stared into the ceiling at the floaters completely spent…

“How long since they left,” 

A low thrumming beep

“Three hours!” he had been pinned by a force grip for three hours!

His breathing increased, he couldn’t stop himself hyperventilating…Valens the man who had killed Odjina, killed Ho’li had stood emaciated in front of him…and still managed to pin him for three hours…Jo couldn’t take it…

Blackness over took him

<<<<>>>>

For Better or Worse
The empty ration bar wrapper swayed gently in the ventilations breeze, the scent of synthesized proteins and tangy heavy metals more irritant than appealing – the Chiss could fabricate the nutritional elements required but not make it taste good …his body nonetheless instinctually performing the tasks of recovery using the new raw materials without his conscious effort…

Designed to survive…no matter what.

His fourth level of consciousness absently worked through the implications of the Mak’Tor his eidetic memory recognised as Jo’Set’Mack from Odjina’s picts and the Ubese being at Sinkhole…a Mak’tor ought not to seek him for vengeance…this one was unstable…still he doubted Mack would hire Ubese…he would have to investigate the ships he’d slaved to his own and the body he’d taken with him…

Meanwhile his fifth considered the creature he had encountered in the Maw…fortunately it was trapped…but it would not remain so forever…

Slaying the Ubese with aetheric lighting allowed the Abeloth thing to siphon some energy off them, a concession for leaving Sofa and himself unmolested…there were legends of such being…called the Ones, or Celestials…perhaps this creature was the truth behind those myths…either way he would need to devise a way to destroy it.

Designed to strategize no matter what.

His third level sensed Sofa nearby saddened…confused…vulnerable…indifferent or unaware of the thin trails of pheromones she was secreting as she entered her fertile phase

Designed to reproduce no matter what.

The comm on his hip beeped a frantic little tone…their Quantum entanglement comm network…

Kiraea…he read the message then closed his eyes…the gentle uptick of combat hormones lifting his mood slightly…

[Myrkr - Yoda + 24 growing – Surrounded – limited arms – 75% energy - K]

He had underestimated the speed at which the Jedi had recovered, he didn’t think Yoda would return from Rakata Prime for another year at least - by then they would be long gone, all loose ends dead, buried and cremated.

I failed again.

Sofa felt the emotional lift – an ugly sense of purpose built on others death…he was an unrepentant murderer…she had known it when they were with the Jedi…but convinced herself it was Kimars orders - now she knew – Kimar simply fed the daemon.

Yet Valens was more than that…wrote her love letters, bought her gifts, watched trashy holo-dramas with her, they never went more than a few days without contact no matter how far Kimar sent him.  Supported her during the Child Abuse Commission - listened, never judged or pushed her – took all the ranting and raving she threw at him – didn’t even flinch when she’d hit him.

Even in this last round of hurting each other – his guilt was built on the fact he loved Her so much and couldn’t reconcile that with the cultural imperative of loyalty to Shilea.  Twisted every way he failed to get Shilea back and ostracised Sofa in the process.

He was broken beneath the weight of his own impossible expectations and crippling indecision in personal matters.

But that was him – what about Her – she didn’t want to be tied to a man who was so messed up, she wanted a new life, easy and peaceful with the slightly nervous but kind man Valens could be - who switched to a ferocious protector when she felt sad – find a home far away from violence and struggle, safe enough to start a family. If she couldn’t find that with Valens and the Aethans then…

Her mind and body were tired…in particular she felt clogged in a strange way, a tightness in her abdomen – she’d never had much trouble in the way of period pains before…but then she had just had a major shakeup and knew Milaea cycled every nine or ten days.

For now the physical congestion was nothing compared to the emotional one – Sofa just wanted to dissolve the stress away. But Life wasn’t that easy. 

Sighing she made up her mind, he’d stuck with her when she was in trouble…she owed it to him to do the same – up to a point.

The pile of empty ration bars twice as high when she had left, the bottle empty…Valens looked better…hung over rather than emaciated.

“OK…OK…” she gathered her thoughts,

“We need to get out of here…and you need to put this behind you…” she knelt in front of him,

“You couldn’t get them back…I figured as much or you wouldn’t be so…” placing a hand on his knee she continued

“You’re not a failure…you can’t expect yourself to do…things only a God could…” moving up she clasped his head in her hands,

“I’ve given up a lot for you…a LOT…give this up for me…”

He had already lost so much…he couldn’t lose Sofa as well….she was…just as important as any other Aethan…

“I’m sorry…” he whispered, “I failed you…”

She nodded and slowly got up to sit on his lap arms around his neck, pulling his head to her breast.

“Don’t treat me like that again…talk to me,”

He could taste her pheromones building with every passing second…Valens wondered if Sofa was even aware of just how much those hormonal patterns might be affecting her thinking.

“I’ve always been there for you…you’ve always been there for me…remember the badge…”

He recalled the little sad ewok,

“Hug me I need help,” he echoed as she squeezed around his neck

“I shouldn’t have come here…I should’ve…taken you to Hapes or Alderran…”

She leaned over to kiss his forehead feeling in the aether how contrite he truly was, and a willingness to let her lead him out of his pain – it would take time but it was a start.

“We can still go there now…”

“No we can’t…” his voice returned to its steely norm as he summoned the comm.

Sofa’s heart fell as she read Kiraea’s message.

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea
She tied off another tightly wound strand of plant fibres, giving it a flick to make sure it was taught…another trap prepped…

Shallow caves dotted this region, they took up residence in a chamber at the centre of near two dozen water worn channels, most only the width of a leg, a few large enough to crawl through, emptying into the chamber whose roof was cluttered with dead roots, floor marshy from the recent rains.

While Jarys kept an eye on the Jedi, she prepared the traps and food…glancing toward the usual opening wondering when he would get back - she felt like a housewife…

They were growing in number out there…soon they would start looking in earnest…she had to be ready…but the Jedi had them at a grave disadvantage.

The shatter point healing had fixed her ankle well enough for walking and short bursts of speed – but by running on it so soon after injury she had made it worse…to fully set she needed additional Calcium and Carbon isotopes not found on Myrkr so her cells could regenerate the near diamond strength bone properly.  It was too dangerous to sleep, cycling 4 levels of consciousness on 2 off could keep them going for months if not years, but diminished their intellectual advantages.

And then there was their general nutritional needs – frequent high impact combat and healing would use up the unique amino-acids, minerals, metals and radioactive isotopes they relied up to function at an optimal level - and whilst they could digest almost anything organic – cellulose, bone, hard woods and survive for months without eating by using fat stores, their skins low grade photosynthetic ability, and rumination – Myrkr’s ecosystem simply did not contain many of the raw materials needed to completely recover what was used.

And Jedi patrols and over flights had scared off much of the fauna that could provide some trace elements they needed.

A subtle…growl…resonated in the aether…Jarys had caught the scent of an isolated group – the first skirmish had sent Jarys into a cold rage – in his current state few Jedi he had now tracked would live long enough regret upsetting him and threatening her.  There was something very arousing about having him as her unthinking, almost purely instinct driven protector.

Sparing a glance at the next sharpened branch she noted it was too short for the trap, she hadn’t been paying enough attention…Yorna was better at things like this…”Pay attention, more haste is less speed,” Karintha had censured her. 

A vibration between her breasts she pulled her comm,
[EnRoute – 34 Hours – V&S]

The roar of another flyover echoed in the hollows – 34 hours…ideally Jarys could steal a speeder and get them away – their precision piloting in dangerous jungles would allow them to escape pursuit easily – but if they had to stick it out they could – just…

Either way - She’d need more traps.

<<<<>>>>

Jo'Set'Mack
Quiet…finally quiet…

The dead silence of the empty station…Four eight had to drag him back to the Rain Song…he had been unconscious for nearly 18 hours after his berserk rage…Four-Eight had prompted him awake to make sure he got some fluid and food.

He sat in the silence as the shame of…defeat? Was it defeat to not even get in range to land a blow…no it was just…failure…abject failure…

He had been beaten without even a fight…shamed and broken…then left in a rage…he glanced at the cuts he had inflicted on his own hands from pounding the unforgiving floor…where was the balance in all this…

He could blame it on the fact he had been awake for nearly three whole days before then hours fighting Ubese…but Valens had if anything looked worse than he did…and still….

He should just give up…go back to Ha’Ona...back home…

No that was the quick and easy way…he couldn’t shut his eyes to a Sith Lord who controlled a Jedi master loose in the galaxy, and had done Maker knows what in this place…

It wasn’t just justice now, wasn’t just revenge…this was protecting the galaxy…but Valens power…Jo needed allies.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #51 on: August 16, 2018, 12:50:30 PM »

"Even the gods can bleed..."

I have to admit that this was one of my favorites: the insight into Valens as he comes to terms with the reality that there are things that he cannot do regardless of genetic imperative.  Added into the mix is Sofa's now-Aethan physiology reacting to her emotions...

And as far as Yoda versus Jarys...I'm not sure who I feel worse for.  Again: Soryu is really the only "innocent" in this situation.  I think this is going to hurt...

And Jo: his motives for revenge are understandable.  But now he realizes that he canNOT do so alone...

EXCELLENT!  Three disparate threads, all of them crashing towards an inevitable conflagration.

And it will hurt  Wink
Logged

Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

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

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #52 on: August 16, 2018, 01:28:31 PM »

This was a great installment.  Valens is starting to make more sense to me.  Talk about an impossible mission in life!  Beyond that, living in the knowledge that you were only a backup.  Talk about the ultimate second-child syndrome...

From the outside, the  Aethans might be better off in the long run if Valens completed his primary mission and ... did some re-arranging of the Aethan ethos.  ;-)

Jo'Set is also interesting to me.  Valens assessment is spot on - he's not a typical Mak'Tor and doesn't represent their norm, but he IS a Mack...  Unfortunately that means he's stubborn and determined to a fault.  When you hook those traits to a base motivation like revenge you get someone like Jo'Set, someone who loses sight of the Truth and becomes obsessed with the Lie - that killing someone will make the hurt go away.  *sigh*

I did like the introspection, as Jo'Set thought about what it was like to be helpless and utterly out of control of his own body - and how often he'd done the same thing to someone else without a thought.  Might be something that the Mak'Tor (and other force users, Aethan included) should consider....   :-)
Logged

signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #53 on: August 27, 2018, 06:15:50 AM »

Chapter 15 — Natural Selection — Competitive Advantage

Shock
“FIRE ON THE SPEEDERS” the gotal screamed, Hrmin redirected his aim from the zigging, zagging figure to the four stationary speeders they had come here on – green bolts smacked into the dusty grey metal leaving carbon smoked divots and sparking electronics.

Two of their six man squad were already dead – they had been burying another motion sensor along the circumference of the isolation zone when it dropped from a tree straight on…and through…an Ikotchi on a hovering speeder, downward momentum rending the Jedi’s shoulders backward in a way evolution had not intended.

Simultaneously the other Jedi still on a speeder was – flattened was the only way Hrmin could describe it – two force blasts of equal magnitude, one from in front one from behind pulped the Kubaz in the centre when they connected leaving a hovering drizzle of gore.

A grenade was smacked back toward them, Hrmin and the Nikto kept blasting the parked speeders to pieces while the Gotal and Human pumped at the beast to stop it getting on one of the two idling speeders.  They had already been warned that was what the fugitives were after following an attack on speeder patrol half an hour earlier. 

As the yellow bloom of the grenade erupted the whine of another patrol squad approaching could be heard over the crackling blast and thump of blaster fire.

Realising 10 Jedi would be too much the creature gave up on the speeders and loped forward straight at them.  Hrmin didn’t have time to grab his sabre, he tried to block the fist with his rifle – it punched straight through and into his left eye.

High pitched whine of grav-plates at speed pierced his ears as he fell, the cracking sound of the speeders forward cannons lit green streaks in his remaining eye it was the last thing he saw as the mud caked boot stomping down on him.

<<<<>>>>

Tension knotting his muscles, jaw clenching back a low growl he sped through the undergrowth. 

After two days and half a dozen skirmishes in the jungles of Myrkr his body was a lattice of scars layered over genehanced muscles from a hundred branches, leaves and rocks scraping against predatorial strides.

Rage simmered beneath a hunters hypervigilance, higher cognition was turned to achieving primitive goals - acquire resources, secure territory and above all else protect the Female – her name sacrosanct in the instinctual cold fury that drove him forward.

Leaping up a large Oblio branch in complete silence, near naked form allowing him to move without sound and become more attuned to the rhythms of the jungle - he overlooked the East Jedi outpost…

Surrounded by a square prefab wall with two gates just large enough for two one-man speeders to enter side by side…inside the compound were eight speeders, six about on leave on patrol – each patrol took circuitous routes, never twice the same between outposts, and overlapping with other patrols to ensure rapid re-enforcement.

They understood many=safe - had numbers, co-ordination, weapons, ability to recover and rest, scared off fauna, many advantages to being in pack – but the pack was divided, afraid, angry but denied emotions, uncommitted to the hunt.  Their strategy was to trap, herd and destroy. 

Strength, Speed, Stealth, Stamina, Shock – combine with strategy – confuse, intimidate, attack, retreat, attack again – steal resources, destroy stragglers, provide false leads, keep their hunters chasing him…only him…do not lead them to den….protect Female. 

A minor success the patrol headed to the location of his last attack, determined to overwhelm and surround him.

Expectant growl rumbled in his throat as thermal, electrical, visual, auditory and aetheric senses mingled to create a precise map as the speeders flew out of auditory range and he shifted through the silken Tpta leaves that made no sound.

<<<<>>>>

Strength

EEEEP EEEP EEEEP

Motion sensor alarms screeched across the camp, stun turrets swivelled online seeking out heat signatures a reflex matching the rise in the force as Elyze began the Force meld…beginning with surface thoughts and quickly delving deeper into spatial awareness and sensory integration.

Guided by the budding meld Twi’lek Sintat sprang into Juyo high guard in formation with a Rodian and Aqualish, three in melee three in ranged support as per Yoda’s training on the Ardent – this time there were no ysalimiri null fields to disrupt them - the reptiles having been scared off by the constant Delta-2 overflights.

A Pau’an and Devoronian Elyze didn’t know well bustled out of the prefab bunk dorm quickly positioning in the cover points as Elyze scanned the sensor map…

“Breach North east…south west...” Her voice barely heard above the constant alarms,

“What…”  Every sensor went haywire as the force built expectantly…

Then it began.

Both of the outpost’s gates were torn outward by invisible hands, the motion sensors slammed into the outer walls.  A metallic clang echoed and the Pau’an jolted aside as the Devoronian used the force to keep the bunk house from falling on him – something had smashed it off grav-lock foundations. 

Elyze flowed the worry in the meld into focus – they would respond to fear with clarity…There is no passion there is Serenity…in moments of conflict the code had always been Elyze companion and guide

The wall behind them smashed inward chunks of quick set ferrocrete raining down on the dirt covered muscular form that had shouldered it apart.

There is no Chaos, there is harmony…
The meld mind co-ordinated their fire on the beast -  baster bolts bleached from green to white in the midday sun as the figure wove through them on all fours loping like a vornskr.

A few shots hit but didn’t slow the charge, most slammed into the dirt. Sintant leapt forward with a counter charge – a perfect Juyo Vornskrs ferocity strike – fitting Elyze thought as the energy blade white in the yellow sun turned into the hulking males chest as he retched back.

As the tip of the blade connected the air crackled with displacement, lines of energy spun down the blade and onto Sintats hands, melting the hilt and sloughing off charred flesh from bone rising the stink of burnt meat – a touch activated force lighting trap.

Pain swamped the battle meld briefly, There is no emotion there is peace was her response to the violent act even as Elyze finger stung with the unfamiliar feel of firing a rifle over.  Awareness of the lighting trap the Aqualish and Rodian stopped their charges short – she pushed out confidence and also caution as the beast dived beneath the crippled Twi’lek likely to use it as a flesh shield.

A hand suddenly grasped both lekku…then..

>>>TORE<<<

The tear was not simply the physical rending of head from neck erupting a stream of heated blood, it was a vicious violation of Sintats already pain addled mind - thoughts and memories of long hours perfecting Juyo form were sucked out like blood from a wound – the backwash threatened to overwhelm Elyze and the battle meld, before she could close off the Aqualish was already grasping his head a the HUNGER of the tear ate at all their linked minds.

As she painfully regained control of the meld she saw the Aqualish back erupt as a fist struck hard enough to puncture the torso.

“Back! Block him up!” she called guiding the flow of energies that teetered on the edge of collapse into erecting force barriers to limit the beast’s movement as the Aqualish corpse was hurled forward. – No fragmentation - unity of purpose. 

The beast roared in frustration as their barriers limited its horizontal range of movement and their blaster fire got closer to hitting – it leapt straight up instead, flipping to kick the teetering 1000KG prefab bunk into the Pau’an, his legs smashed under the unyielding durasteel weight as the beast landed atop it with a metallic dent.

As they pivoted the boot came down on the Pau’ans head erupting brain and skull, Elyze once more pushed fear into focus each loss tainting the meld further – limit his movement on all axis with barriers, trap him and shoot him to pieces…a flare in the force – the patrol was returning – just a little longer - Hope overcomes Fear.

Bolts began to hit hyper-keratin skin tougher than most reptilians species scales, they drew back keeping their distance as the beast leapt forward with an ear splitting roar. 

Only 5 metres away still he moved too quickly to hit easily,  amidst swift diagonal dashes they saw too late the sabre in his hand erupting to life in the middle of a perfect swift-flank Juyo strike that split the Rodian in half, momentum carried the beast into an overhead swing down on the Devoronians rapid high horizontal guard. 

The beast was too strong, the Devoronians knees buckled under the weight, death stank the battle meld and Elyze had to end it for her own sanity.  Recovering briefly she fired at the beasts back, it left off the lock of sabres to bat the bolts back, the devoronian recovered rising with a high guard, as Elyze squeezed the trigger once more the beast strafed to side – the bolt struck the Devoronians sabre, animal hands grabbed the devoronians distracted shoulders and ratcheted them out of their sockets with wet pops followed by a head butt that collapsed the skull in like paper and soaked the beasts mane in black blood.

There was no peace…no serenity…only brute strength.

Elyze ran.

<<<<>>>>


Speed
He let her flee, this was old strategy - instinctual – let one go - spread fear in tribe by recounting terror witnessed. In milliseconds he summoned up the fallen weapons, pulled back up the prefab bunk to loot all he could into a scrounged back pack.

The wind carried the Doppler building sound of speeders – threat – autonomic cognition determined 3.4 seconds till they were in range - crouching then tensed his legs exploded him out of the ruined wall at a full 200 KMPH run seconds before the cannons of the speeders turned the ground he had stood upon to a glassy heated crater.

<<<>>>

Muscles contracted and released in fluid motion contrasting with the inelegant pounding of his feet they hit the ground.

Six hunters on metal steeds, dodging green blasts that split trees he wove between them he was restricted to only 75KMPH - the Jedi pilots drawing heavily on their precognition and aether enhanced reflexes to keep them safe at speed in dense jungle.

Keep low, sense what is ahead, remember what is around, plasma seared over his head eyes scanning for topological features for cover…

The rumble of his growl was lost to the crack of bolts as he sensed another patrol ahead racing forward.

The balls of his feet stung form twisting through uneven ground, every moment hyper-keratin skin took another scrape from a branch or bladed leaf and every effort to cut out to the side was met with a stream of fire as they herded him like a gormin to the slaughter.

Snap decision, speed, memory, dexterity greater than metal steeds - he didn’t avoid the oblio tree directly ahead, he ran up it, gravity to slow to curb momentum as his boots hit the bark. 

Green plasma ate carbon black holes along the trunk behind him as a knee powered backflip sent him over their heads, landing straight into a run in the opposite direction he had come from.

Too many, Run, Escape, fight later. 

Path memorized, replay backwards…15.4 degrees left, up, 135 metres leap….eidetic memory capable of plotting hyperspace jumps determined the optimal path to escape the way he had come, choosing the tightest gaps, Y splays in branches and moss slicked fallen logs to put between himself and the hunters, unthinking calculus on likely response times of the pursuers estimated a 15KMPH advantage. 

As he sliced through the rough bark between a pair of mated Indio trees he hurled half a dozen fallen logs up behind him as the Jedi struggled to make U-Turns to pursue.

Skidding under logs, leaping over hedges, strafing between rock gaps he rapidly twisted as they lost visual range to leap up and into the vines above, swinging hand hold to hand hold he surged to the north as they followed his last known direction back east.


<<<<>>>>

Stealth

“…too used to hanging around the temple perfecting their forms and meditating on balance, not fighting real opponents in the real world…”

“You seriously think you could do better than Yoren, or Gurrlum against the beast?”

“I don’t spend all my time in cushy Coruscant Council meetings, I’ve spent nearly two years undercover on the Ring of Kafrene see how long you last using pure Shii-Cho against Herglic Hover-Biker gangs with tremor blades in a bar fight….mark my words this beast is a jumped up street brawler whose had it easy against Temple pillow biters.”

“So why don’t you go out there and…”

“Will you two shut up…East outpost just got hit…patrols diverting, get on the watch towers this bastard moves quick,”

“It’s not just one there’s at least four of them, has to be - he’d have to run at 80KMPH to make the distance from the west perimeter to the East outpost – no one can manage that without collapsing form force exhaustion,”

“I sincerely hope I’m not around the day your overconfidence gets you killed Meerek,”

RAWWWHHH

“What was that!”

“Just a vornskr calm down,”

“This is wrong…we shouldn’t be here…”

“No dren, we should be giving Valens the Ruusaan Memorial Medal of Honour for having the balls to finally top kom sucking Kimar,”

“Eyes on the perimeter Meerek.”

“Nothing out there…they’ll hit the South one next, try and hijack the supply freighter.  I’ll bet its Milaea, man if I got my hands on that hot little coond….”

He paused…that was threat…threat to Daughter…. the cold fire that drove him suddenly blazed.  Silent hands stuffed the pack with power cells as he lay on the floor of the bunkhouse, concealed beneath an unconscious suppression cloak and rapid indiscernible movements between the shadows cast by the afternoon sun. 

“One more word Meerek and I’ll tell Sentinel Oma what a homophobic misogynist pfssak you are,”

….a Shadow behind Meerek rose too dark for the orange falling sun to cast as all eyes were trained on the foliage at the edge of the 15 metre cleared zone around the camp.

Muffled meaty snaps were lost beneath the call of avian species and the distant rumble of the Delta-2 Patrol flights.

“EEEEEP!”

Five Jedi immediately pulled their weapons and aimed at the North edge of the camp where the motion sensor activated, the stun turret hit a crashing form with a series of blue blasts before the squad leader finally recognised the broke bloodied corpse of Meerek.

“What in the stars….” Eyes followed a trail of blood from the body over a gap in the wall to – the body had to have been thrown almost straight up by someone inside…

“BRE….”

An impossibly strong arm wrapped around his neck - as the other Jedi stared in horror as the arm and a hand on his head worked to corkscrew the neck around.

As they raised their rifles to fire past the dropping corpse the blood covered beast had already leapt over the wall and in three bounds was back in the jungle.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #54 on: August 27, 2018, 06:22:07 AM »

Chapter 15 — Natural Selection — Competitive Advantage

Stamina
“Another one…” Cous noted on the battle-net moments after sensing the deaths.

The Azumel sentinels nostrils flared in thought the gills beneath taking in the moisture of the fungi covered warm patch they walked upon. He kept his two lower eyes on the ground, top one ahead side swinging on eye stalks back and forth to patrol the periphery.   

The air was tinged green with spores that had a mild anaesthetic effect on the wildlife – putting them to sleep for the swarming maggot like worms to bury in and drag down to feed the maggots and then the fungi in a symbiotic predation. The dirt was warm with the metabolic heat of decomposition that catalysed the recycling of organic matter– and made thermal scans useless – this was the perfect place for them to hide.

Cous was not a ‘Temple’ Jedi like the others in the outposts, he didn’t flinch from doing what had to be done outside the code, a Sentinel with decades of experience and a scar or reset bone for each month to prove it.     

“Stay close,” Cous quietly ordered his squad, two of his eyes on the ground, two ahead and the other two scanning each periphery and behind in arcs. 

There were five, solid pragmatic knights in his squad, most he’d been on at least two missions with over the years.  The Council might not always appreciate Knights like Cous, but Yshrrk and Oma knew when their expertise was needed.  And against this enemy…Cous had only been on one mission with Valens five years ago…at first he thought him a nervous dithering wreck – that was before Cous saw what he did in the Spice Warehouse – while no stranger to grisly violence, it was speed and precision with which Valens had dealt it out that shocked a veteran like Cous to the core.     

“Tisk we have eyes on target heading to your location,”

“Copy,” Cous replied issuing quick precise hand-signals to position the team amidst the black steaming soil - the target would not go down quick or easy, their best hope was to wear them down, hopefully its attacks focused on the north east – likely to draw them away from this very location - had drained it. 

He couldn’t ask for a better squad short of Yshrrk, Oma and Yoda themselves…well and Gurrlum and Yoren – and it was their killer they would soon face.

<<<<>>>>
Night was falling, his body was comparatively weak, still running with no time to sleep.  He ran with the wind into the trap the hunters thought their own.

Muscles were consuming tertiary short term energy stores, two levels of conscious thought had shut off from exhaustion, and across his body he felt the first scratchy burn of aetheric over extension. 

This was all simply data, a somatosensory cortex built for war did not experience pain or exhaustion as visceral deterrent like the vast majority of species – only as the absence and diminishment of resources.

Slicing through the foliage he felt no dread at the impending battle – there was no fear response, only sub-conscious risk assessment that trickled into his semi-coherent feral state but even when completely lucid he was psychologically designed to eschew fears weaknesses, resistant to the dismaying shocks it can induce.

Every motion, every thought was bent on achieving survival, with the grim knowledge that at some point, no matter what his biological advantages, what strategy he employed at some point he would meet his end at the hands of a better adapted opponent – he would live longer than most, millennia perhaps – the exact limits of Aethan genetic engineering a mystery even to their creators – but eventually the War for Survival would take him.

War – at that word a flicker of what might be considered existential fear in a lesser being illuminated the primal frontal cortex as his feet him the fungi ridden edge of the jungles charnel house and moist air carried the scent of six aliens to this ecosystem to him.

Jarys had hoped to know Peace one day – yet without war he feared he would be without his genetically derived purpose and function.

This thought yielded no competitive advantage in the moment and was dismissed along with variegated irrelevant stimuli flooding his senses as he broke through a rotten yellow leafed hedge and into the teeth of the Hunters.

<<<<>>>>

His right middle eye stalk picked the movement even as his expanded force sense felt only the thinnest ripple amidst the decay and echoes of pain from the previous attacks.

Cous could not warn Jmmara in time, but the Chistori reacted swiftly his tonfa quickly raised as he flipped back doing his reputation proud avoiding the first and second strikes and getting his twin orange blades up – it force the animal to backtrack and reorient into a barrage of knees and elbows. Jmmara died well buying a precious 8 seconds to position themselves perfectly to counter attack before the beast slammed a knee through his long reptilian jaw.

Vibro-shurkiens from Hjjan, Force lighting from the barely Code affirming Yten Son and gravity manipulation from the dour ‘Joh Antilles’ whose face one could never quite see fully was backed with fire from Cous disruptor pistols and Llwen Nar’s repeater.

The beast danced through the assaults, four of Cous eyes focused on him tightly analysing the movements for signs of fatigue and weakness…feet seemed stilted when pivoting left, torso resented twisting too far to the right, he favoured the right arm.  Hjjan  felt the information flow, if not in words then in essence to feed back to the others – Sentinels were too independent to share emotions in a risky battle meld – occasional bursts of useful data were safer and just as effective.

It sought to gain on them, but they spread in a wide semi-circle so if he took one the others could bear down without risk of further friendly fire – risky but previous strategies had been no more successful.  The face beneath the blood matted hair was one of primordial ferocity Cous had never seen upon a human before…human…no this thing was not human.

On all fours like a fathier under electro whip it raced toward Hjjan - the co-coordinator whose bladed gauntlets lit with micro vibrations as Cous struggled to move his blasters fast enough to trace the dirt covered figure – Cous took a chance – aiming straight at Hjjan.

An instant later he pulled the trigger- where Hjjan had been was the rising form of the beast.

<<<<>>>>

Instinct twisted his torso a painfully hard right wearing down already stressed muscles, the Kiffar before him lunged forward to take advantage – bladed vibro gauntlets tore toward his chest forcing a left strafe that angered the weary cartridge of his left knee.

Out of the blades he fell into the blasters from behind, his head dragged down by the aetherically enhanced gravity on his shoulders, lighting blasts inexpertly if passionately flung limiting his movement further.

“To be angry, aggressive is easy,” his grandfather had said as Jarys toppled off the log into the muddy creek bed after another frustration driven failure “But to be angry at the right place, the right time, in the right degree and in the right…that is what you must learn Jarys,”   

Now, surrounded, depleted, frustrated he might not achieve his sole purpose, to wage war in defence of the Female…this was the time to be angry.

<<<<>>>>

Hjjin collapsed as the beast burst with incomprehensible speed to grasp and pull his neck forward and out with one hand as his boot cracked through the Kiffars knee.

Before they could react he was on Yten Son, whose lighting coursed around the creature that seemed enlivened with rage, a blazing light in the force. This strategy was no longer working – gripping his sabre and with a nod from Joh they charged in.   

Four blades sung through the moist air as their feet splotched on the rich soil knocking over capped mushrooms each spurting a tiny blast of spores into the air that harmlessly bounced off his teams breather units and his own densely filtered gills. Yten kept him off long enough for them to reach him. 

With claw like telekinetic grips they aimed to pin slippery limbs, Llwen Nar pushed into the mind – but found no complex mental barriers….rapid thought and fluid motion through the kaleidoscope of green and blue energy blades that lit the night bound jungle were one and the same – it didn’t have thoughts – it was beyond consciousness in the same way a bacterium in its drive to survive, consume and reproduce has no intent that can be manipulated, no stream of thoughts to twist -only an instinctual drive to survive as ferocious as its movements.

It could not last forever, even now Cous had seen only defensive movements and the small weaknesses he had seen before were now prominent – its second wind had burnt out and it was too weak to take advantage of opportunities Cous could see in the blinding flurry. 

Cous probed with a more aggressive stab – it strafed then pivoted from another blade but didn’t follow through to strike Cous exposed torso.

They had finally worn it down – as the seconds dragged and the tightness behind each of his six eyestalks built Cous refocused his strength to pass through the exhaustion of matching such speed and dexterity - the beast limbs seemed double jointed for a human - its ability to maintain balance and keep a firm centre of gravity no matter what position the raging sabres forced it to adopt was exceptional. 

As his own limbs began to weary from moving at speeds Cous joints were not built for he now understood how the Sith of Cygrat, the Beast, the Bane of Jedi Jarys had destroyed Gurrlum and Yoren, to keep up required almost everything you had – to get an edge pushed you to the limit – one on one he doubted anyone could last more than a minute.

But no one could fight forever. A few more swings, Cous kept a good spacing between the others ensuring they didn’t clash, their collaboration growing in proficiency even as their limbs tired, yet still they couldn’t get a hit…still…

A fairly basic thrust almost wrong footed Cous as the dryness in his gills built despite the humidity – how long had they been fighting for – three minutes? - the telekinetic and mental assaults slowed to a trickle increasingly ineffective…was it the anaesthetic spores? Or was it just they hadn’t paced themselves – yet how could they? Any slower and they would be overwhelmed. 

The beast was going to win by simply outlasting them – too late Cous realized this was what the beast was designed to do – to fight for weeks on end without sleep or rest, metabolic systems with multiple options for providing energy.

They were fools to come here – Cous was yet to receive a satisfactory explanation of what had caused Valens to turn on Kimar – Who was wrong and who was right didn’t matter in the thick of the fight – and yet it did – this creature fought for survival and to protect the other one – what did Cous fight for?

Doubts wearing down their minds the beast began pulling apart their bodies – the blows that felled them were not complex – solid combo’s of straights, hooks and knees common to any boxing ring – but the beast speed and strength never flagged – theirs did. 

Joh fell first, his weary arms just couldn’t rise fast enough to avoid the throat jab, Llwen was second, in the gap of Joh’s fall the beast skidded out to deliver a jab-cross-hook-cross to the side of Llwens head.  Yten threw up a lighting wall – it shattered like glass against a Force charged upper cut that ruined his face. 

The strikes didn’t just break bones and flesh – along with the blood knowledge like quicksilver bled into the surrounds and was taken up by unthinking osmosis into the beasts Vicarious-procedural and declarative memory cortex. 

Cous was alone drawing on the last dregs of his stamina to cut quick spins just to keep the beast from getting close, wondering where their strategy had failed- outposts, equipment, resources, even grizzled Sentinels….they had the beast running and trapped…


Strategy

“I’m not trapped on this planet by you…” the throaty growl burnt through clenched teeth as it burst in between the Azumels spins to grip the left side of Cous face squelching the three eyes.

“You’re trapped in this jungle with ME!”

<<<<>>>>

That Aetharians were superior killers was a fact Yshrrk understood – indeed had Yoda not reached his squad when he did Yshrrk doubted he would’ve survived his first encounter with one.  In the dim of the morning they had cleaned up after that first battle and the rains had washed away most of the vitae

But to see now the reality of their unleashed power visited upon others in the yellow wash of the morning sun was a shocking, sobering moment.

Broken limbs, caved in skulls and ruptured torsos lay scattered across the tarps they had been dragged in on from the outposts and patrols like the leavings of a slaughter house.  Vornskrs were prowling around the edge of the camp sniffing for an opportunity to get at the fresh meat.

Yshrrk raised his head
“THHWRRAH” the roar frightened them off

Already some Jedi called them psychopaths, mindless butchers…this scene did nothing to falsify such a notion - but Yshrrk knew better – after all what kind of discipline must it take to master such a level of aggression so close to the surface on so tight a leash…only unleashing at the perfect time and place, then retract it once more.

This was a not a mad beast as half the Jedi thought…this was an apex predator as deadly and cunning as a Wyyyschokk – willing to track its prey over long distances and patient enough to plot flawless snares.

Cous had been found alive if mangled, left to deliver a message as simple as it was chilling - You are not pushing me into a corner, I am pulling you into one. Their entire strategy was being undermined.   

“Orders,” a voice interrupted his thoughts,

<Burn the bodies before the local fauna can consume them…we will not risk landing a transport to take them to Coruscant> Yshrrk grunted in deep tones, the attrition strategy was not working - as the Sentinels of his squad piled up the bodies he felt a stab of disgust at the price Yoda was willing to pay for his ‘justice’.

“We should burn them out, we have them surrounded, five precise orbital blasts will light the fire we need,” Yshrrks deputy Oma had advised a day ago after the cordon was established. Yshrrk had not liked the indiscriminate nature of bombardment, hoping they might surrender…now….

“Wait we must, the others lured by their plight will be, but only if still they live, not until Valens arrives shall we consider bombardment,” Yoda had replied

How many more Jedi would die Yshrrk wondered before ‘Valens arrives’.  They had lost 12 already, the total strike force numbered over 100, a force of 54 kept on the planet via rotating out casualties…

How...

Many...

More?

His annoyance and pain squeezed his fist painfully.

He glanced down at his paws…on Kashyyyk a wookie who used his retractable claws for violence was labelled ‘mad claw’ ostracised and stripped of all honour…these claws were tools, for climbing and building…to split bark and raise up not cut flesh and bring down. 

For all this…this enemy…Yshrrk could not be restrained by such traditions, he was Jedi Sentinel first…a wookie second…a mere wookie was prey to a beast such as this, a Jedi Sentinel used every weapon at his disposal. 

“High Sentinel, replacement squad has arrived, ready to move out?..Sentinel?”

Foetid rot as the jungles microorganisms rapidly devoured the dead filled his nose. No matter what Yoda advised about keeping to six man squads, waiting for the others to come to their relief and fight in numbers, he couldn’t – wouldn’t be restrained by hierarchy any longer, not while Jedi were dying and he could make a difference.

He extended his claws and tore off his light robe shaking his head in the universal gesture of negative.

<I will hunt> he called back before leaping up a nearby oblio tree.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #55 on: August 27, 2018, 01:21:07 PM »

OK.   Its official.

Jarys.   Is.  Terrifying.

Made to make War.  To hunt.  To protect the female...

I so utterly pity these guys.   Men (and women) are so much more ... yet the strength these Aethans have been given is tethered to genetic imperatives that are so deeply hard-wired that they simply cannot get past them.  Its sad.  In a very fundamental sense, they've been reduced to animals, driven by instinct.   Or at least that's how they present. 

The day may come when they may have to choose - are we just this?  Or are we more?  Can we choose to act against our instincts?

But not today.   Today - Jarys makes war to protect his mate.

And the Jedi die...
Logged

signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #56 on: August 27, 2018, 06:57:37 PM »

OK.   Its official.

Jarys.   Is. Terrifying.
OH

YEAH.  Shocked

What a terror: something as powerful as an Aethan with virtually ALL humanity (or the Aethan equivalent) turned OFF, operating on pure genetic instinct and (Karm said it best) imperative.  Maybe a zerg rush would do the trick; the Jedi are simply outclassed: Jarys is more powerful and more skilled.  Again: I think that this gives a bit of insight into a young Yoda... Perhaps this would account for his almost apathetic commitment during the Fall of the Republic: if he was so pro-active against the Aethans which only resulted in a debacle of epic proportions... Yeah...

LSG, I had to stop myself from reading this chapter too fast; it just FLOWED.  Wonderful job my friend  Smiley

Oh, and I absolutely LOVE the attendant pics proceeding the chapter  Grin
Logged

Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

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

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #57 on: August 29, 2018, 04:22:43 AM »

Chapter 16 — Natural Selection — Resource Allocation
Part 1

Kiraea

She felt a presence and primed herself, blue arcs of energy pulsing in her fists…but a rhythmic tapping in click code on a hollow log nearby told her it was Jarys…she relaxed and tapped back permission to enter.

He was like a Vorynx…intense, lethal…protective

In pure survival mode he would not waste any energy on unnecessary chatter, tossing over the weapons and food he had assembled as he poured one of the large bowl fashioned leaves over himself as a rapid bath highlighting the newly cauterized scars only slowly healing...typically it would take three days but the constant barrage and limited Real food intake had slowed regeneration, so far she’d only caught a few rodent like creatures to eat, most of the edible fruit trees nearby already exhausted. 

On edge...deadly, potent...if he continued like this he would become overly tense, a blade sharpened too finely...he needed release...

And she knew just how to give it to him.

Kiraea loved women, soft, gentle, playful, there she was the dominant one...yet she had other needs, to feel protected, to hold the strength of another in her hands to direct as she pleased - be the matriarch over her own offspring...for that she needed a male that could excite her, was an equal and could protect her and her babies at least as well she could protect them herself.

She needed a male like Jarys. 

With the aether she unzipped her utility suit, letting it slip off...unwilling to get her feet muddy she kept herself levitated as the outfit flopped onto a rocky outcrop. 

Jarys turned around uncertain what was happening on a conscious level, but his anticipation was building in primal mindset that had overtaken him.  She zoomed forward on Aephordaea’s wings, her pheromones seeping out filling his nose...he was hers now...all that strength all that power at her whim to command. 

His predatory mindset instantly switched to passion, his lust for blood now a lust for her.  He had spent the last two days protecting his female, now he would reap his reward. 

The unfamiliar feel of hands stronger than her own gripped her, the strange sensation of facial hair pressed against her smooth cheeks as his mouth devoured hers...she kissed back just as hard as she tore off his trousers. 

Flexing herself in readiness, her hand drawing him in viciously - she wouldn't be dominated...they would dominate each other equally...pulling together she kept them fixed above the dirt floor with one level of consciousness, another sweeping for threats as the others gave into the most primal depths of carnality she had ever felt.

<<<<>>>>

Milaea

If bad news travelled in threes as they say then she was about to get slammed. First Kiraea and Jarys on Myrkr and now...

The holo flickered with the looped message,

“Vigo Aur Hondo extends his invitation to Knight Valens and Knight Milaea to visit him at Jonex Mine Eight Eleven B near Bimmiel to have a pleasant conversation regarding the twenty guests Aur Hondo is entertaining…He requests you bring 100 million in block chain authenticated credits to pay for the bar tab the guests have already run up…Vigo Aur Hondo extends…” Lyr’s message repeated

The aether was filled with deadly intent…this Vigo Aur Hondo had captured the first shipment of cloned Aethans from Kamino…the first new generation…

“He’s just committed suicide by People,” Maeson declared arms crossed standing behind her, his voice repaired to normal now by Milaea’s healing skills.

“It’s obviously a trap…we have to assume they are already dead,” Lyaea added,

“We need to Help Kiraea and Jarys first …then together hunt him down and make him eat his own eyes,”

Milaea kept her own counsel for now….this had to be part of it…part of what turned them further on the path of the Oblivion Army - something thin and dark was squirming in the Aether around that transmission…she wished the others were here to help her work out just what it was…

“Hrmm…we can’t let their trail get cold…those clones are too valuable,” Melron advised her,

They were both right…and they were all looking at her for direction…the Guardian system might be slowly dissolving with Lyaea and Adaea having been trained, but they were still adapted to following the most competent and strong willed person, ideally a woman – and that meant Milaea.

She needed to break them out of that obedience…yet Milaea was painfully aware of the irony of trying to teach them not to obey a single person because SHE knew better….finally she spoke up before the weight of their gaze became overwhelming.

“I agree with Lya…they are already dead or as good as…but a kidnapping is too low end for a Vigo…there is something else he wants from us…perhaps…”

Her stomach sank at her next sentence…if true her efforts to reform them would take a massive step backwards…on top of the trauma of the Devastation someone stealing their children would irrevocably galvanize them against Outsiders.

“Perhaps he knows how powerful those children are…wants to know how he can get his hands on the templates…force sensitive Nova Corps would give the Black Sun an enormous advantage over the Hutts…and everyone else” 

Selaena opposite nodded, she spoke more frequently now she was back home and had Lyaea with her,

“Possible…Likely…still seems…” she made an expression of worry and uncertainty…still an incomplete explanation for how they even found the shipment…though even on Kamino there were bound to be loose lips.

“If they knew Lyr’s route…” Adaea’s soft voice chimed in, “they might know how to get here too…”

Milaea nodded, another complication…she had to defend the system, get Jarys and Kiraea out of the Jedi’s siege and find the bastard who had stolen the clones fast…she saw the pained look on Selaena’s face at the loss of more children…

<She would not let them escape, they had wanted to hurt their babies…her baby. Four Bullets left to talk to the outsiders in the only language they understood>

Another shift toward the Oblivion Army…Milaea resolved her course of action,

“Melron, take Selaena and Lyaea and go to Kamino to make sure the leak wasn’t at their end and escort the second batch of clones…Adaea how fast can we get the new ships online?”

“Ummm…the first one is ready, the others, maybe 3798 minutes…wait,” she looked up into the ceiling of the orbital stations war room, 

<Ultra-Dense projectiles sheathed in burning blue energy burst from the Gondurs magnetic accelerator cannons ripping three of the most advanced Cruisers the Republic could field to shreds of metal and man >

“3782 minutes”

Milaea’s second vision confirmed it…this combined with Myrkr was the catalyst…they were already sliding down the slope into the abyss, it was up to her to ram in a pick to slow them.

“Great, get onto that” Milaea broke out of distraction

“Maynard you and Xandra assemble all the Mark 1 weapons and supplies we have to spare and head to Myrkr, try and link up with Valens, if anyone can get them out of a Jedi blockade it’s him - I’ll go with Maeson to Bimmiel”

“Spreading ourselves thin…” Melron cautioned with a sigh, “but I concur…we need to move on each threat quickly,”
 
The others nodded approvingly…sometimes the only way to deal with a trap was to spring it….

It sat ill with Milaea what they would likely do to the Jedi on Myrkr…she had hoped Valens prediction they would be too traumatised after Coruscant to fight back and would follow Soryu’s path of reflection and a return to more traditional Je’daii philosophy was correct…but Yoda’s early return and aggressive response threw Valens otherwise reasonable assumptions out the airlock.

Milaea could feel the lines of Fate twisting into a confluence, a critical intersection, if they didn’t resolve these issues fast and without losses - if disaster compounded on disaster for them…

The Army of Oblivion whispered ever more strongly in the Shadows of the Aether.


<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

Her tryst had given her a new found energy, now operating at 65.7% capacity, the hormones released after sex had boosted Jarys from 43.2% to approximately 57.9%, enough to take down most any Jedi out there apart from Yoda and possibly the gigantic Wookie.

While it helped psychologically it also used up some stores of specialized meta-amino acids present in their hormones, on balance it was the best choice, but repeating it more than twice would undermine its utility.

She kept tight against the trunks moving cover to cover, light on her still broken ankle, her senses open and presence low, picking up berries every now and then, eating hers and keeping some aside for Jarys.

It had to be admitted it was more than just a strategic decision – she did want him and had taken advantage of the situation – it hadn’t been perfect, differing pace, a little fumbling with the unfamiliar feel of each other…but one day under the Right Moon…

Pausing she pressed her ear to the ground hearing the vibrations of their machines discordant against the increasingly silent jungle - something had changed, they were moving in and now numbered over 70 – they were doubling down despite Jarys reign of terror. 

She tied off the trip wire to the rifle, slathered it with mud and the sticky substance she had found on a vicious looking plant that scooped up small mammals to eat – once they were out of this she would make sure to grow those on Aethas, after she perfected their genetic code of course…a nice little garden for her children to play in…

Children…she had a mate now…a husband by Rite of Dominance even if the formal Ceremony would have to wait till they were home…Yorna had always wanted lots of children too, Kiraea had imagined they’d all live together in a big house on the South West slopes lots of Gormin gently yawning them awake each morning…So far away now…

She had to get off this world – to have the babies her sister couldn’t.

Sliding silently along the Yrut track she looked for another place to set a tripwire - they were low on resources, three rifles, two daggers, five light sabres in addition to the rough cut spears she was churning out and Jarys pack of Vorynx held in reserve. 

But the lack of food and constant combat – People stored lots of energy in their cells, and extracted it more efficiently than Outsiders from food…they could survive months without eating but not with this level of energy expenditure and food that wasn’t designed for People.

She pushed off the trunk satisfied with her work amidst the worry…worry was not good for People…focus on the tasks - two more traps to set then she had to collect water….


<<<<>>>>

Sofa

Fifteen minutes – that was all she had between hyperspace jumps to get between the ships and send the messages she needed to.

First one first, Valens comm [4 hours out – V&S] she paused before hitting send, then swapped it round [4 hours out S&V] – it was her plan after all.

She had virtually no resources, one Chiss ship, three empty Ubese ones, a dead Ubese captain and a solemn conflicted Aethan who deferred to her expertise in conflict resolution.

Almost nothing.  A nothing she needed to use well to extract two Aethans from a war zone while not killing any of the people besieging them. 

The irony was not lost on her – getting away from violence and stressful negotiations where lives were on the line was one of the reasons she had wanted to leave the Jedi – now here she was about to go into a conflict zone and enter into a stressful negotiation with lives on the line AGAINST said Jedi.

Sofa had a thorough understanding of Jedi tactics, strategy and motivations, and experience in conflict resolution – the essence of which was never making everyone happy, but getting a result everyone could walk away and live with – sometime just LIVE – whatever she may be now she didn’t want to see the Jedi harmed. 

Still it would be a shift…she was truly on the other side now – once she showed up there would be no going back.  She looked across to Valens contemplating his own issues…not the life she had hoped for at all…or at least not yet.

Blowing out, she just had to hope this went the way she planned, otherwise she wasn’t sure she could live with any deaths on her conscience. 

<<<<>>>>

Milaea

“Are you sure this thing is safe?” Milaea asked incredulously,

“Of course it is Adaea designed it,” Lyaea replied slightly wounded Milaea would doubt them,

“Well it doesn’t really meet Republic safety guidelines if that’s what you mean….” Adaea quietly added.  Milaea quite liked the ‘girls’ as everyone called them, Lyaea was fun and clever if slightly capricious, Adaea warm and quiet, but extremely intelligent and talented, she had made Milaea a dress as a welcoming gift.

“It’s more…that…well looking at the specifications,” she glanced at the datapad Lyaea had given her while showing off the Aethena, the first ship of the new Aethan fleet, a light transport, some thirty-five metres long that looked like a black spear head, with no obvious view port but a slight rise for the cockpit some 7 metres from the front where the ship grew taller from the ferocious looking tip. 

“I’m not sure some of this is possible for a ship this size…” she went on

“Did you think it was possible to rewrite a living persons DNA?” Lyaea jibbed referring to Sofa’s transformation….

“Point taken, but that was something I’d done before…” she replied

“And I’ve flown this on test flights before it’s perfectly safe,” Lyaea said annoyed, “You’re upsetting Ada,” she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and looking away.

Adaea didn’t look upset…still…Milaea was still trying to work out how to deal with her new extended family…they got upset by odd things, but then quickly forgave if you were sincere,

“I’m sorry…I know you both worked really hard on this…and I appreciate you letting me take it out on its first real trip…” she thought for a moment, they also liked it when you offered to do something in return to make up for it…something that showed connection with the tribe…

“I think it would be fitting to fly out wearing the dress you made me Adaea,”

Lyaea looked back at her and spread her arms, this was their gesture of reconciliation and affection, amongst the women at least, Milaea quickly stepped into her embrace,

“That’s alright,” Lyaea said as they parted, Adaea sweeping into hug her next,

<<<<>>>>

The white dress Adaea had made for her was fairly plain compared to contemporary Republic fashion, but Adaea had made it based on how her mother and grandmother had taught her.  Around her waist intertwined ribbons of blue and black, the colours of Cilina and Jarys family lines respectively.  There was something deeply fulfilling about having that connection.

She stepped forward toward the ramp to the Aethena, named after her former self…another connection to her people, her past.

The others lined the walk to the ship in their traditional dresses, in spite, or perhaps because of the crisis they were facing they needed to perform the traditional farewell.

Selaena with a yellow ribbon, Lyaea yellow and orange, Adaea purple and cream against their identical white dresses, Maeson and Melron wore simple dark leather outfits, their colours, brown and red ribbons on their arms.

She treaded lightly up the ramp, and paused at the top staring into the clean light grey interior, Lyaea’s take on Chiss interior design before turning around,

“Well…This is the relaunch of the Aethan fleet…” she struggled to think of something memorable to say…something to capture the moment in a way that was positive rather than combative despite the missions intent.

She thought for a moment then pointed over their heads and let out a trail of purple lighting…a mingling of healing red and destructive blue.  She used the aether to catch the end of the stream and build it up into a ball while broadcasting an invitation to the others. 

Everyone raised a finger and added their own streams to the growing ball of brilliant white that cast blue and purple shadows behind them.  As their curiosity built Milaea finally sent a thought to cut off.  As they ceased she detonated the ball. 

It exploded into a dozen arcing loops like fireworks and a shower of electrical snow over them. They stuck out their hands to catch the vanishing flickers of energy, Lyaea leapt to catch one of the larger streams before it vanished, Maeson used the aether to draw stars and hearts out of the falling snow-energy.

She smiled as their happiness filled the aether all around them, there was a beauty to using force lightning, something the Jedi were so adamant was a path to the dark side they refused to use it, to create such wonder and joy…especially after so much they had lost…and with this kidnapping...

Milaea could feel the painful conclusion they all shared after so much trauma…the rest of the Galaxy only wanted to hurt and abuse them…a belief backed by evidence and experience.

The small ceremony cost 15 minutes of their time, but it was worth it to give them a psychological boost before they entered the fires once more.


<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
*

Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #58 on: August 29, 2018, 04:31:35 AM »

Chapter 16 — Natural Selection — Resource Allocation
Part 2

Oma

The branch poked along the ground tentatively as though unsure it was solid beneath…finally it encountered resistance, she pressed harder.

TWAAANNNG

A crude but effective trap made of supple young plant stems and dotted with shards of metal attached with a natural glue that dripped off carnivorous plants

It would not have been fatal, would not even have pierced her shin plates…but that was not the point   laid across the rough path in the woods it was there to show them they could put a trap there.  It was a psychological assault on their patrols to add to the fear generated by the males vicious and brutal attacks.

Since Yshrrk had gone rogue to ‘hunt’ the male six hours ago, Oma as acting commander had brought in the cordon to an 8 kilometre radius immediately after.

Three teams of six were on foot, two speeder teams of six criss-crossing between them as the other eight teams moved the outposts forward behind them.  She now had 78 Jedi boots on the ground, 48 speeders, 92 rifles, 12 heavy turrets, and nearly 600 kilos of promethium for when Yoda gave the order to start burning. 

Yoda was many things, but he was clearly not a good commander, he was being wasteful with their lives and resources.  This could be over in ten minutes – orbital bombardment with speeder teams ready to mow down anyone fleeing from the flames, then a 12 man team to search the blackened earth for the bodies.

Oma had no doubt that frustration was why Yshrrk had gone ‘rogue’.

But no, Yoda wanted to keep them trapped, to lure Valens and Milaea.  Oma knew Valens, he was almost a friend - if he did arrive, it was not Valens who would be walking into a tr…

She dove to the side as a blaster erupted, six shots hammering into a trunk she had just walked past,

“DOWN!”

“Left full fire”

“Belay that” Oma called shuffling through the undergrowth following the trip wire she had snapped - too lost in her thoughts to notice the blaster rifle stuck to a tree trunk and covered in mud and leaves.

…Into a Trap was the unfinished thought.  The Aethans were canny, deadly and efficient, everything a warrior should be. 

You did not – cannot - simply ‘kill’ an Aetharian as Yoda called them. You do not risk a fair fight, you gather every resource you have and deploy it without mercy as quickly and accurately as possible before they even know you are coming.  Yoda by taking 12 men on the first skirmish had failed, the enemy had escaped and killed 15 Jedi in hit run attacks since.

And Oma knew Valens, IF he arrived – and that was a huge IF – the Jedi would learn to their pain that if you do not kill an Aetharian with your first strike You. Are. Dead.

Oma would not allow that.  If she had to make the call, override the Grand Masters orders…relieve him of Command…she would.

20 was her limit, once 5 more Jedi were dead or wounded, and if Yshrrk was not back with Jarys head on a spike….

“Press on, eyes open, senses alive, keep off the Yrut tracks,” she ordered. She would not waste her resources, she was more than willing to take losses - but only when it was the price of victory.


<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

Clever bitch…not to mention big and strong, a solid woman Kiraea could respect even if on opposing sides.

Kiraea kept prone as the Jedi patrol wandered past…they were pushing them into an ever smaller cordon…there was virtually no food left in this area…Sofa couldn’t come soon enough.  Kiraea might not really know Sofa, but she trusted Milaea’s judgement about her.

Fingering her combat knife she wondered if she should take the Jedi woman out…the shock should let her escape from the others…and it would significantly disrupt their operation, the Jedi Woman dominance was palpable. 

And yet this dominance was also a source of friction with other Jedi, even amongst this squad – they respected her ability but did not agree with her methods despite having no better solutions.

Kiraea eased off her grip – let this one live, she was a cancer within the Jedi, a raw nerve to be stoked and encouraged not removed.

Let your enemy devour herself.


<<<<>>>>

Yoda

Was it worth it?  Was 15 Jedi dead worth it?

It had to be - or their sacrifice was in vain.

Yet who was he to sacrifice them…Grand Master…a title he had wanted, that he had feared.  A title that tasted more bitter with every passing moment.

Yet Justice had to be seen to be done, you cannot attack Coruscant, desolate the Jedi temple and simply walk away.

Yet how many lives was that justice worth. Did each death add to the tally of lives Valens had to answer for, or to the tally Yoda would have to answer for?

Yet, Yet, Yet…always something else to consider, some other way of seeing that lead to doubt and uncertainty….only a Sith may deal in absolutes, but sometimes Jedi envied their singlemindedness.

He sat silently on the grass just outside the command tent breathing in the cool air of the jungle, illuminated in the night only by the blue strategic command holo behind him, currently showing the ships in orbit, two cruisers, and twelve fighters above their position, the other cruiser on the far side of the planet with the rest of their fighters to intercept any attempt to cut in from behind with a rescue attempt.

No…not rescue…these were not hostages, they were fugitives, violent killers who needed to be brought to justice.

Bait to lure the true enemy…

And He was coming.

<<<<>>>>
Logged

Lord_S_Gray

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

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

Force Alignment: 1152
Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #59 on: August 29, 2018, 01:43:29 PM »

Nice.  A great view into Milaea's attempts to reform her people - and how it is being undermined by more Outsiders looking to profit by harming them.  "Suicide by People" indeed!

Valens and Sofa will be a handful for Yoda's Jedi.  Probably to much.  Kinda makes me wish Valens had been right - that Yoda would have decided to back off, let them go, and returned the Jedi to teachings closer to the original teachings of the Je'daii philosophy, but that didn't happen.  So Yoda will get his wish - and Valens will fulfill his purpose.

*sigh*

I don't like Oma's methods, but she's right about one thing - if they'd just hammered them from orbit with a saturation bombardment to begin with they'd probably have killed Jarys and Kiraea in the first minutes.  That might have been their only chance to survive...

To late now....
Logged

signature picture by DarthScrub

Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Pages: 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 ... 20   Go Up
Send this topic | Print
Jump to: