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Author Topic: Fate of the Aether  (Read 72812 times)
TheDutchman
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


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« Reply #240 on: March 20, 2019, 05:36:52 PM »

From where I'm sitting, I suspect the only redemption possible for Jo at this point is someone killing him before he does more damage.   I suspect he will die on Li's blade...
^^THIS would make an EXCELLENT redemption scene! 
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Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

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

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #241 on: March 20, 2019, 09:25:21 PM »

From where I'm sitting, I suspect the only redemption possible for Jo at this point is someone killing him before he does more damage.   I suspect he will die on Li's blade...

Now that would've been a cool idea...too bad he just ran into Valens....you know after hurting Selaena...an Aethan Female....ermm....yeah cultural faux-pas in extremis....just ask Anson and Fuqua
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Lord_S_Gray

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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #242 on: March 20, 2019, 09:31:34 PM »

Now that would've been a cool idea...too bad he just ran into Valens....you know after hurting Selaena...an Aethan Female....ermm....yeah cultural faux-pas in extremis....just ask Anson and Fuqua
LOL

Touché LSG  Cheesy
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Sig courtesy of DarthScrub

Cataphract Triarch of the Vhal'Dan

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

Karmack
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Posts: 5602


Light side points please.


« Reply #243 on: March 21, 2019, 02:08:15 PM »

Yeah.   I don't think he's going to live long enough for Li to kill him...
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Master Singer of the Mak'Tor

Lord_S_Gray
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #244 on: March 21, 2019, 10:13:29 PM »

Chapter 60 — Only What You Take With You — Nightmares

***Trigger warning strong Torture/abuse/horror themes***

Part 1

Vectivus

It was said the most potent torment a man could experience would be to see into the beating bloody heart of his darkest inner self, to look upon it with perfect unflinching clarity.  To see every flaw and fear in mirror lucidity unfiltered by the distortions of psychologically protective esteem building thoughts. 

This was why Vectivus stared so intently into the Mirror –to truly know himself and thereby be able to reflect to others their true horrendous selves. 

Vectivus could not match the approaching four Demi-gods in battle, one of them for a few minutes perhaps, but in the end their Olympian strength and speed combined with ferocious battle tactics and seamless cognition were beyond him.

Yet nor could he disobey his Masters Commandment that he chain and milk them of terror to feed the Wyrms that in turn would power the refashioning of the demi-gods into new bodies for Lucovis to inhabit and expand her vile pleasures. 

Vectivus sat upon Xithars throne, the Mirror orb floating before him – it did not reflect the gold and purple drapes and erotic tapestries the throne room was bedecked with – it showed the truth – rotten moth eaten fabric time bleached of colour, bodies no longer young and firm but old and haggard – sexual ecstasies exchanged for death throes of defecation and vomiting – Truth.

He could see through the false confusion they created in the minds of lesser beings, could trace the thread that bound the Pantheon through witnessing their fury unleashed upon his shielded form…and using that…

There was only one weapon which could defeat the Gods –

That weakness which they had brought with them.

Their True Nightmares.

<<<<>>>>

Jo’Set’Mack

The woman’s body dropped as forgotten as Jo’s original reason for coming here was – Ho’Li and Ha’Ona having died a second death in his quest for vengeance that no longer seemed bound to their fates.

Jo’s enemy stood across from him and that was all he cared for.  Jo ignored the Void coloured nymphs leaping to help the two he had just crippled…

There he was mere metres away – the sole purpose for Jo’s existence now…and this time Jo had the power to destroy him.

“You killed my master, my sister, my ORDER”

Jo screamed igniting his arctic blue sabre that hummed as hollow as the words he had just shouted. 

“Prepare to die!” 

<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

In perfect unison she and her mate struck, Red Sabre and two Blackstone blades swept toward the Falleen with all the speed they could muster while Sofa and Melron unloaded their rifles at his smug smile upon his pretentious throne

They hit air that bounced them back like a Bloodstone wall, the ricochet throwing them into controlled but confused landings. 

Jarys Lighting and Kiraea’s fire lit the room but broke against the ethereal shield as Sofa’s blaster bolts bounced back - the power needed to resist them both was monumental – how could this Falleen possibly be that strong! 

No more games, with four of them together they would splatter this Sith once and for all with an aetheric hammer the size of a small moon.

She tensed and sprang forth, a whirl of black behind the largest aetheric thorn Jarys could muster to breach the shield.

Purple and Gold flashed about the throne dissolving the Falleen Xithar to reveal a middle aged human male holding a…Mirror…no Orb…

No Mirror Orb of some kind. 

Before she could reposition a million shards of reflective glass leeched off the Mirror orb and struck her mind.

<<<<>>>>

Truth

Needles of mercury mirror steel pierced through the monomolecular gaps in the mental barriers of the Aethans as Vectivus Truth was unleashed. 

Even Valens quickest to realise, distracted by Jo couldn’t act fast enough to avoid being effected by the long primed and finely wrought weapon.

It leapt like electricity between the poles of the Force that shared the peculiar Marker of the Demi-Gods, the unique rhythm and etching they carried in the Force.

Across the Facility marble floors were dented as 400+ Kilogram armoured forms dropped as Vectivus undermined their physical advantages with psychological terrors.

They did not - could not - feel fear, panic nor terror as humans and most sentients understood it – but they could still FEEL – could still regret, worry, love and bond with each other so deeply that the loss of such connection was excruciatingly disorienting.

And like all beings they could not for long look upon the truth of themselves without feeling some failure, some sense of inadequacy, loss and grief caused by their own shortcomings.

This was the Truth Vectivus would force them to face – this was how you destroyed a God.

By forcing it to see just how mortal it Truly is.

<<<<>>>>

The little dormitory spread out around her in fuzzy pastel creams. As the sun set through the slated blinds Sofa’s stomach sank.

Would it happen again tonight?

She didn’t want it to and held her pillow tightly – she’d tried hiding under the bed once but that only made it angry.

The room was suddenly dark, the fuzzy nightshade blue seeping in through gaps in the blinds.  She heard the footsteps.

No…no this isn’t real…this…mmmm…

The hand was on her mouth again silencing her, she didn’t want to open her eyes but couldn’t seem to stop, the monster was over her, the creature with a gentleman’s pointed face.

No…this wasn’t happening she wasn’t a child anymore…she could fight back…

Yet she couldn’t

Where was Soryu, she’d never told him till later

He won’t believe you the monster dripped

You’re a filthy little girl they’ll throw you out on the street if they find out about the disgusting things you do to me.

Even as the vile claw like finger pushed onto her nightdress she tried to struggle, to kick and punch but her limbs were tiny, impotent against the monster she thought long dead

NO! Valens killed you!

No one will believe you…he sang to her to a nursery rhyme as she slowly gave up the hopeless fight

You make me do this to you, you’re just an evil little girl…

<<<<>>>>

An indescribable weight bore down on her breast, pinning Kiraea in place.  Naked on her back her legs were spread out – as she raised her head she saw her stomach enlarged as if…

Pregnant?

A warm hand stroked her hair and soft lips brushed her forehead

“It’s alright Kiri I’m here for you…” Yorna whispered supportively even as Kiraea’s stomach sank in sickness as the pressure built in her pelvis.  Muscles around her body tensed as the pain built…

“Somethings wrong!” she shouldn’t feel discomfort, the build-up of red sensory input that was their version of pain, Kiraea had carefully learnt about Birthing Rites, Aethan hormonal systems during labour created a feeling of euphoria and calm…this could only mean something was wrong…

“Shhhh…keep pushing sister…” Yorna soothed moving around between her legs

“Soon you’ll give the child you stole from me…”

<<<<>>>>

 “JARYS!!!” Cilina screamed across the ruins of the village as they dragged her away.  No not just her…in her womb barely conceived…his daughter…He hadn’t known…if he had…Goddess why torture me like this!

Tears streamed down his face, cheek muscles strained from the rage his visage was cast in as he fought to break free from the vile green hands that held him back. 

Where was his brother, his grandfather, Karintha or Taran?  Even little Kiraea!

There they were impaled before him as the lead him to the only vacant rough cut trunk as his families organs dried half spilled in the sun.

He gnashed at the hands and arms that seemed disconnected from any torso of their own.  He should be strong enough to break out…but he wasn’t…

His wife his child were being taken away from him and he could do nothing – he was completely helpless as the ghost like arms lifted him up and drew his limbs outstretched, filthy fingers with grotty blade like nails floated toward his chest ready to slice him apart.

<<<<>>>>

Melron staggered back in the dust of the dead lands…

“Where…”

Across the mountains he could see the smoke rising, feel his people dying while he was away searching the ruins…

He had to get back, help them

Die with them

No he knew now what they faced, he could change it all, he wasn’t scared of the aliens anymore, he had killed thousands

It’s already too late

He bolted forward to save his People - but his feet sank into the grey blasted sands.

<<<<>>>>

She was being dragged very further away – Selaena could feel the air rushing past her

….and yet her family seemed static before her eyes as she tried to reach out to them.  they couldn’t hear her, see her, FEEL her…the shadows moved about them…Lydan and Lyaea simply played with their toys obliviously as Lysan carved them another wooden gobril to play with - an ingenious spring mechanism within that would make it leap when wound.. 

“They’re coming run RUN” her voice wouldn’t come she’d been silent…so silent…now they couldn’t hear the warning…

The Outsiders had them…

<<<<>>>>

Alone…quiet…too quiet…

Yet loud…full of creatures but not people.

The throngs bustled around Lyaea in Commenors Retail Plaza, pushing and shoving. Why was she here, alone with all these outsiders?

You’re one of them that’s why a snide voice replied

You’re not one of Us, you went away

No! No they took her she didn’t want to go

Yes you did, you’re a liar we don’t like liars, go away!

No! No! She didn’t want to be with the outsiders, she pushed against the tide but the place was packed and she had nowhere to go…

<<<<>>>>

She was on Nar Shadda in the cell…everyone else had been sold…even Lyaea

No that isn’t right…Lyaea was here too when Kiraea got us out…

But she wasn’t…a carnival of hideous faces appeared on the glassy wall – pressed right up against it distorting their features, salvia and other fluids squelching as they pressed to get into Adaea’s cell.

No…go away!  Kiraea will come get me soon…

The glass began to crack.

<<<<>>>>

There they were…

His wife, his son, his daughter…just down the path between the Kyala trees beneath the spring sun, snow melts rumbling down the creek behind the house, the smell of his mother’s breads in the oven, his father with the lathe making a new head board for Maesons unborn child, the old crib that had served them for generations but needed some repair before his third child came.

He stepped forward and the suns heat rose…

Another step and the deep green leaves turned brown and red like the dust in the mines

No he hadn’t been to the mines yet he…

Another step, he had to get to them, to warn everyone…the sun seared his skin

A final step, his wife’s eyes turned upon him, then blazed yellow to black as the world caught aflame.

<<<<>>>>
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 #245 on: March 21, 2019, 10:17:40 PM »

Chapter 60 — Only What You Take With You — Nightmares

Part 2

Vectivus


His veins were pulsing with the strain of keeping up the assault. 

His wrist watch, an anachronistic cog driven mechanical thing given to him by his father as a graduation gift slowly ticked for only the third second since it had begun.

Yet for every second he sustained the attack he knew their unspeakably quick cognition would experience minutes if not hours of mental torment.

All of the excess emotion funnelled into Xithar and his Wryrms.

Before him the four Morgukai shifted in the slow motion of Vectivus heightened senses – there was nothing they could do – only a few more seconds, a few more tsunamis of horrific truth driven nightmares from the Gods to prime Lucovis True weapon…

Could Vectivus last that long?

Each of the demi gods had the rough equivalent of six genius human levels of conscious thought – he was suppressing in effect fifty-four trained minds at once…

And as the Fourth second ticked by he knew all too well it was at the cost of his own.

<<<<>>>>

A Darker Shade of Gray

And from the Heavens the Angel of the Maker Descended Eyes like fire and face of gold shimmering.  In his hand he carried the Sword that read ‘Justice’ and upon the Enemy he delivered a tremendous blow that shattered mountains and boiled seas

Such was what Jo’Set’Mack envisaged as he rammed his arctic Blue blade straight into the Daemons neck as it fell to its knees collapsing under the weight of its own Sin, revealed by the Divine light that poured off him.

Valens saw a very different scene. 

His mind was flung into a half sleep by the Mirror Orb, eyes blinked between Aethena panicked, dying, worn leaning on the altar….And a twisted, red eyed near black skinned fiend with a blue sabre that had once been a Mak’Tor.

Jo pushed deeper forward, the glacial blue turning the Blackstone-weave join a ruddy red as he tried to cut through the neck.

The heat seared at Valens throat as he tried to reassert control of his thoughts, frustration rising just as hotly in Jo caused him to abandon the effort, his sabre not strong enough to eat into the armour.

Jo ached with strength of the pool of dark power he had drunk on Ruusan…his blade weaker than his luminous fists - Jo wouldn’t be denied the pleasure of tearing out Valens spine with his bare hands, feeling the sticky warmth of his blood trickle down his arms.

Casting his blade aside Jo gripped the helmet and squeezed, the red flurry of pain sensation stimulating a release of Aertemisin – like all Valens higher hormones it operated on both Valens biology and aetheric presence cleaning off the peaking distortions of the Mirror Orb enough to gain a moment of lucidity.

Valens did not waste it.  Arms up he gripped Jo’s wrists then flipped from his knees into a leaping back flip kick that sent the Mak’tors chin jutting to the sky as teeth rattled in his mouth.

Jo quickly initiated a healing flow, infused with the darkness his bones knit in an instant and charged forward preceded by a wall of telekinetic power.

The image of Jo rushing toward him flickered with the unreality of the mental attack.

“I’ll crush your skull in my bare hands,” the Mak’tor taunted in less than a second “Then I’ll tear your bitch apprentice and slut Jedi limb from limb,” 

The Mak’tor’s snarl turned to other faces as he approached, Valens barely able to cocoon himself from the telekinetic blast before Jo was on him.

Reduced to his most childish demented frame of mind Jo lunged connecting his fist into Valens slow forearm block, the impact, the physical feel of landing a meaty punch filled Jo with excitement and hunger for more. 

Barely had his hand bounced off the now dented plate than he twisted into a low jab hammering into Valens stomach and sending him back. 

Jo would not let up…he rained a dozen punches, a score of kicks into the daemons waning defence…he would wear down his opponent before tearing him to pieces.  Valens arms began turning a deep red as capillaries beneath his skin burst. 

Each one of the Mak’tor’s blows had the power of an industrial hammer and speed of a blaster bolt, Jo’s own vision struggled to keep track of his own arms as they moved leaving ghostly after images behind…only the force guided his attack now.

Valens arms and legs were on fire from taking the punishment of Jo’s blows, but Jo wasn’t shattering the Blackstone armour…

Jo’s speed was startling – it had been barely four seconds since the attack began.  Valens mind twisted and churned against the distortions, he saw…

High Director Varance Struck at his shoulder…
Aethena hit toward his ribs
Andis kicked into his shin
Shilea clawed at his face
Cilina hammered him backward


…but there was a price to it.  Valens genetic superiority meant Jo had to burn power first to match Valens natural speed and strength, then match it enhanced by the aether - and only then exceed. 

Jo was on borrowed time – to truly increase ones power in the aether required training at high levels of usage through mediation or combat, devising new ways to let it flow and fill your body…Jo had done none of this…he had sucked in pure energy like a death stick, an artificial high that would eventually crash out. 

Valens knew the variegated faces were not real – but he could feel the pain of their blows…he was somewhere…purpose…focus…the recent lessons of Sinkhole and the Land Beyond the Shadows gave him an edge against the mental attacks…he needed to find a clear goal and focus….

Faces shifted behind the wall of limbs hurled at him…Not Aethena….Not Varance…not Grandfather…Not Kimar…Not quite Odjina…

Mack… recognition finally settled in three levels of consciousness

A blue light flickered around Valens form…Sith lightning how fitting Jo sneered as the arcs headed toward him as if attracted by some eldritch magnetism.

Jo batted them aside with a force blast.  Valens doubled down and poured a wall of energy his lucidity growing with every second…Jo flicked his hand up to erect a force barrier that sent the pure energy crackling across ground and into the containers burning holes of molten metal.

They met once more, fist into forearm, knee into chest, elbow into head, a swirl of clashing limbs as Jo ripped through his power, using it wastefully, inefficiently, instead of using the minimum effective amount to block the lighting he had generated a huge shield a metre around him, instead of speeding his arms and legs only as needed, he was enhancing speed across his whole body.

Jo’s attacks were effective…but they were sloppy…

Jo was not a master of combat before and he was not one now – his technique was a weakened version of Odjina’s form – only his artificial speed and strength made it a threat.

Jo had gained raw power but no new techniques nor wisdom – he didn’t know how to use shatter point to destroy Valens armour, wasn’t trained to regulate the flow of the aether at such high levels.

Jo hammered a second blow into Valens cracked helmet denting the force absorbent armour just below the eye, and followed with an elbow in the sternum.

With every punch the air boomed as it was vacated rapidly.

It shouldn’t be long now, already Valens movements were becoming sluggish. 

Though Jo’s aetheric power was taken to new heights, his body was still only human and not able to deal with such exertion…every moment he looked more ragged and broken…and his bones and muscles were not designed to take the impacts each motion inflicted – he was only keeping together with a shabby healing flow that kept his sinews from tearing.

Valens body cushioned by the ultradense armour could withstand this - if only just…his mind slowly reasserted a laminar flow of thought as Vectivus assault died suddenly – redirected to easier targets or completely defeated he didn’t have time to discern.

As Jo threw forward another punch Valens mind already less vulnerable than the others refocused and noted Jo’s knuckles were all bleeding, the armour and skin long since torn off, supressing the pain was another drain on Jo’s false power.

Jo couldn’t understand…why couldn’t he land the killing blow!!

Was Valens getting faster or was he getting slower…his hands were becoming less responsive…his feet clumsy…he poured more energy in a healing flow into them…trying to bash them back into operation with sheer force of will, screaming a healing tune from his chapped numb lips. 

He sidestepped a low kick to gain distance to charge his fists to smack the murderer into the ground, summoned back his sabre and darted at the Daemons back, sparks the only reward – WHY was the MAKER Denying him JUSTICE!

Valens was covered in bruises but his natural resilience and better aetheric management told over time – Jo needed a lot more raw power than that to counter Valens expertise.

Winding up Jo phase shifted across in a zig-zag to smack Valens right shoulder dislocating it then took advantage and focused his blows on his right side, Valens took the punishment but kept his head bobbing, then twisted into a left hook…

Jo raised his right arm to block…

But it missed…

A heavy fist smacked into the side of his head just in front of his ear, a ringing pierced through his skull like the Bells of the Mack Clan chapel. 

He kicked back but Valens caught his leg in his wavering right hand, his grip tight and painful around Jo’s ankle. 

Needing to escape he blasted Valens back with a tsunami of force energy sending him flying into a container Jo charging after him, arms flailing, blood flying from open wounds.  Jo went straight for his throat…

Valens fell forwards, allowing himself to crash onto the ferrocrete, Jo over shot and in the slowed world of hyper stimulation began to pivot down as Valens rolled and brought his knees to his chest priming then kicking straight up.

Two boots slammed into Jo’s collar bone and sent him flying up…

…then smashing down on his back cracking into a crater of his own making.

He rocked back and forth twice then flipped up from prone…

Only to be met by Valens fist straight to his face
Once…
Twice…
…tfewwwww.

His feet flew from under him, his shoulders popped out, Jo stared through a blood glaze at the relentless punishment about to fall upon him – but instead of a final strike Valens simply grabbed Jo’s face in his hand - Valens didn’t have time to break him physically for daring to harm a Female – but he could wreck him psychologically before tearing out hi knowledge of where his new found power came from then grinding him into a paste.

“Did you think…” Valens slurred slightly but was already rapidly healing.

“Did you really think you could beat me with borrowed power…you could just soak up energy and it would be enough….”

As Jo realised he was beaten again he understood the pain he felt in his body was nothing compared to the shame that coloured his soul…

No not his soul anymore….

His greatest Nightmare had been realised he had Sold his Soul for Power and Revenge…

And still lost.

“I was made to Kill A Goddess…Killed your master Odjina….You’re a disgrace…Odjina would be ashamed of you…he would never betray his beliefs or forsake his God to try and win”

Valens eyes quickly flicked around, Maeson and Adaea crumpled in a heap, Lyaea and Selaena curled and bleeding emotional pain from the Mental attack.

Sofa might have asked Valens to spare Jo on Sinkhole…but this piece of trash was not Jo’Set’Mack anymore, merely an Outsider guilty of harming a Female and threatening People it was his role as Guardian to expunge it before going after the Sith.

<<<<>>>>

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 #246 on: March 21, 2019, 10:20:05 PM »

Chapter 60 — Only What You Take With You — Nightmares

Part 3

Xithar

He was an artist.

With the red bleed of what passed for pain in a deified mind he layered the background,

With the tormenting visions of what made even demi-gods cry he filled the foreground,

And with the crying screeches of huddled terror he detailed and layered the main figure.

Revelling in his composition Xithar was only disappointed Lucovis herself was unable to enjoy the masterpiece at close hand – for now.

The Demigods writhed in mental anguish that flowed from Vectivus penetrating mind, through to the wyrms in the Hedonist that squealed in delight growing fat on the divine nightmares – more earthy nourishment coming from the bodies hurled into the bubbling pools and then into Xithar himself, his body covered in the fear feeders that pumped the power of the Nightmares of Gods into his veins.

It was a thing of horrific beauty that gave him ferocious pleasure - he was near delirious with rapture at what he had created…the only thing that kept his falleen body sane was knowing that this was merely the overture…

Rising from the pools Xithar felt heavy, like a sloshing over full balloon that would burst at the slightest buffet. 

He was filled with the Fear and power of the Wyrms, the build-up within him growing every second as he slowly dressed his feet squelching dozens of the now dead fear-feeders with each step. 

The Apogee was close…now to ready the ambrosia of flesh.

<<<<>>>>

Tok

In the space of seconds the metaphysical universe seemed to explode – the four black armoured allies of convenience had dropped to the floor, he directed his brethren toward the man with the Mirror Orb….yet with each second the orb became more clouded as if collecting the falsity of the galaxy within it….

As his arms moved in the first six seconds of the attack a falleen in resplendent armour stepped out flanked by more of the vile Sithspawn Nova Crops.

It was the Red Master himself, the traitor, deceiver, bereft of honour, bastion of shame that would be cursed every nightfall as long as the Endless Wastes of Kintan endured.

His mind raced for another second, determining the greater threat was still the Mirror Orb being – Tok’s chances of destroying Xithar were higher with the Dark allies.

<<<<>>>>

Pall of Nightmare

Trapped, body pinned to her bed mouth wide screaming out soundlessly – all agency, all choice was not lost but taken as Sofa remained chained inside a body others were moving to manipulate.

<<<<>>>>

She screeched out as the baby began to cry. 

Even as her body felt utterly spent she was desperate to grab a hold of her baby as tightly as possible.  Looking up over her sweaty breasts she saw Yorna cradling the fluid covered child, humming an old tune to it. 

“Beautiful…so perfect…” Yorna crooned as Kiraea struggled to get up

“Something I’ll never have…” Yorna added sadly, a sharp toxicity in her voice as her hands squeezed into the ruddy pink and red newborn flesh eliciting a squeal.

“…you let me die…murdered the family I wanted Kiri…” Yorna’s mouth flashed open glinting teeth sharpened to vicious points and dripping with black saliva…

“…now I’ll murder yours….”

Kiraea’s eyes widened and teared, mouth opened to scream but no sound vented her horror as her sister destroyed her baby.

<<<<>>>>

Every step seemed to take him further away from the mountains…how would he ever make it up the jagged trails if he couldn’t walk across empty plains?

Melron just wasn’t good enough…better to let the sands take him…

Yet even they rejected his death, as if he were unworthy to live and too despicable to die.
The sands rejected his effort to sink even as the Mountains flew further away.

<<<<>>>

Everything burnt…yet didn’t…the whole orchard, his home, his family, was in a state of perpetual fire.

The screams wouldn’t stop…

Maeson ran toward his son who appeared closest trying to throw himself on him to put out the fire…all he got was a mouth full of ash as he slammed into the ground…pushing up on calloused hands he tried again
And again
And again.

<<<<>>>>

She pushed herself into the corner as the aliens hammered on the transparisteel, hoping if she closed her eyes they would go away…sure that when she opened them Kiraea would be there to rescue her…

Instead as Adaea repeated the vain ritual for the twelfth time the trasnparisteel began to crack.

<<<<>>>>

She couldn’t stop them, they kept pushing her further down the endless street of high rise buildings ad garish signs.

Away from…away from…nowhere specific just Away from where she wanted to be

In delirium Lyaea tried to ‘swim’ through he bodies…but the tide that drew her away from her own kind would not be defied,

And they were never your People Anway the voice reminded  her

<<<<>>>

Every step he took they were further away.

Selaena tried to outsmart the vision by standing still…running backwards even…

Now they were a pin prick the veil of starless blue black night all around her.

Heart weighed with failure and loss, yet without anything else to do but the need to do something she kept running.

<<<<>>>>

 This never happened it’s not real…it’s not real…

But it WAS real Cilina was taken he never saw her alive again…his unborn daughter died with her…

No…no she hadn’t.  the vile hands seeking to pull him apart flickered as he undid part of the illusion. 

Milaea was Alive and far from this wretched manipulators ability to harm, cracks in the scene around him broke in mid-air, light spilled through bloody and red.

 
<<<<>>>>

Vectivus

Vectivus pulled back from the Beast…he’d made a mistake…a slight one but enough for this being to get edge enough to escape from the Nightmare of Truth a few seconds too early for Xithar to succeed. 

The Morgukai had retreated back as the Nova Crops lead by one of the Jedi-Spawn Battle Lords covered their fellows to grab up the demi-gods bodies, rapidly trying to rend off their armour and clamp suppressive stun-cuffs all over them.

Behind them Xithar leered his body covered in the wyrms bites, eyes rich and yellow as his distended flesh bulged with power…another surge from the male breaking free grasped his Masters attention maligning the jovial countenance in an instant.

Vectivus almost felt a slight joy that his twisted master would be denied enacting is nightmare plan for the Galaxy…

Already Vectivus Nightmare was in motion - he was in the thick of the fighting and unable to resist his masters compulsion….why shouldn’t the Galaxy suffer with me

Already drenched in sweat and frayed of mind Vectivus pressed forward to break the mind within the body his Master desired...but the mistake was made.

And an Aethan mind was never fooled twice.

<<<<>>>>

Jarys


A Morgukai boot slammed into his chest, then a…hoofed…metal plated foot of some kind.  The hoof he grabbed as hard as he could crushing the bone beneath and leaping up onto his feet overturning the Nova Corps.

The Morgukai who had just stepped on him nodded quickly as Jarys eyed the man on the throne, the orb was no longer a perfect Mirror but a clouded grey mist.

He ignored the Nova Corps currently slapping rancor sized stun cuffs on Sofa, looked past the Falleen smiling at him behind a sabre wielding monster and a row of Nova Corps.

They would be dealt with later – his eyes were focused on the one behind the Mirror Orb - the one who had kidnapped and mutilated their babies, confused his daughter, set them against Vong, Jedi, Black Sun, Morgukai, Mandalorians…and now struck them down for almost 15 seconds with his Nightmare weapon

Jarys unleashed a tensed leap - surging straight past the Orb, his fist infused with the aether crackling blue shattered Xithar’s half hearted shield and slammed into and through Vectivus chest, ripping stomach, lungs, heart, liver, intestines and kidneys into a concave splatter mingled with shattered ribs and broken spine.

The Basalt throne cracked behind Vectivus as Jarys fist sped true and hard, blood exploding out of Vectivus mouth as the last second passed and the Mirror Orb crashed soiled and broken to the marbled floor.

<<<<>>>>

Yoda


Stepping over the worn oil stained ferrocrete steps, drawn here by the churning ferocious tides of the Force, Yoda entered his worst Nightmare with at least some poise, steps firm if not eager.

His former apprentice crouched millimetres from crushing in the skull of a deluded Gray Jedi, eddies of the force indicating Valens had already stripped all ‘useful’ information from his mind as all around him chaos and confusion reigned.

This was the fear that had caused Yoda to delay taking on a padawan, the concern that haunted his dreams…“’Did my teachings contribute to your fall’,”…that question now seemed answered…Yoda’s failings as a Master plain to see in the cold eyes that turned to regard him.

He had failed himself, failed the Jedi, and failed his apprentice…all this he already knew.  The Nightmare though…that lay in what must be done to correct his errors.

Claws grasping the sabre built from materials in the Ord Mirit Jedi Safe-house, his own blade confiscated at his arrest, he flicked the blade of washed-out green on with a snap hiss that echoed in the confines of the towering shipping container flanked lanes.

This was his Nightmare - to slay his apprentice to clean up the mess of his own failings as a teacher.

<<<<>>>>
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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."

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« Reply #247 on: March 22, 2019, 08:12:37 AM »

I get the feeling that the Jedi - Yoda and Soryu - and the Gray - Li'I - may end up being the wild cards in this mix ... and the undoing of the Sith.

You're not disappointing.  This is the epic wrap-up that we were looking for.    :-)
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« Reply #248 on: March 22, 2019, 06:02:52 PM »

I get the feeling that the Jedi - Yoda and Soryu - and the Gray - Li'I - may end up being the wild cards in this mix ... and the undoing of the Sith.

You're not disappointing.  This is the epic wrap-up that we were looking for.    :-)
SO True^^

Using the Mirror Orb to feed the wyrms was a brilliant tactic, especially concerning Aethan hyperactive dreamscapes to power the Sith Alchemy.  Lucovis is a truly a devious villain.

Poor Jo'set: as with much in life, the expectations do not reconcile with the realities.  And it can HURT...

And I did NOT expect for Vectivus to go out like that!  Well, consider that karma for being aligned to a power-hungry despot like Lucovis.

Each of these chapters keeps us wanting more, LSG.  Can't wait for the next  Smiley
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« Reply #249 on: March 24, 2019, 11:30:53 PM »

Chapter 61 — Only What You Take With You — Terror

Hell Hath No Fury….



“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH” her voice became real as the image of Yorna’s fanged mouth covered in her babies blood faded but didn’t die. 

The mercury shards in her mind melted away as she instinctively began a calming Rite – around her Morgukai clashed with more Nova Corps, Jarys fist was rent out of Vectivus slouching body on the throne then opened up to hurl lighting at the Nova Corps who were now firing on him.

Jarys had spared Vectivus head for one reason - to suck out quickly dying ebbs of his knowledge – he had disabled nine Aethans for 16 seconds with his Mirror Orb Weapon – a feat beyond what Jarys thought possible for a mere human – Jarys would learn how he did it so it would never happen again.

Melron thrashed against the Nova Corps trying to pin him down as he too awoke, the Jedi-Spawn Battlelord ignited its sabre and rushed toward Jarys

Sofa lay in a foetal position a Falleen hovering over her as she was chained –

One Sith down…one to go

Hands formed into painful fists as Kiraea’s rage exploded into a cloak of aetheric fire once more – as her legs pushed up the tendrils of blazing light pushed out striking the Nova Corps crouched between her and Sofa.  Their blaster fire struck her incendiary halo, was eaten by it and converted into more flames in seamless aetheric energy absorption, which she hammered back into the malformed creatures, boiling and bubbling them into metal strewn blobs, sparking small explosions as their power cells blew.

The BattleLord rounded on Jarys as the Throne rooms tapestries and carpets began to burn with missed blaster shots.  Stun grenades and neural disruptors burst through the air, scrape aside as she loped forward, trusting in her mate to deal with the others.

Through the battleline Kiraea scorched a trail of dead up and over Sofa to the Falleen.

Xithar deflected the initial blast but was not fast enough to avoid the shikkars that Kiraea had as her wingmen lodging into his chest – quickly he shot them back out telekinetically before Kiraea could work them deep into his body

The wounds were soon lost amidst thousands tiny punctures, green reptilian scale-skin covered in his own blood form the wyrms.

Lucovis hidden nearby smiled at how she had made her old form a living weapon that was energised further by the Nightmares of the Gods, each moment of panic and confusion from the dock workers, every fist Valens landed on Jo’Set’Macks all too human flesh, every feline scratch, the backwash of Sofa’s relived terror – oh that was a sweetened dish indeed Vectivus had done well with that one.

Two of the Nova corps moved to protect their master briefly slowing Kiraea by forcing her to slice them into useless chunks of mottled flesh.

Xithar ran as best he could weighed down still by the wyrms power.

He’s so close Lucovis thought gleefully Just little more pain and fear and he’ll be ready….His own will have to do.

Kiraea rounded the corner ablaze shifting through space as a neo-Goddess should, dismissing the rules of three dimensional space to reach the object of her hatred.

Xithar for the first time in many weeks raised his sabre.  He was not a novice in combat, but preferred more elegant means of subduing those who would soon be slaves as Vectivus had just displayed. 

He jabbed forth with his unique style of combat, barely drawing on any prowess to defend himself telekinetically, the movements slow and tepid compared to what Lucovis could achieve – and for that reason he had been chosen to be filled with the wyrms power, to be a living sacrifice to his Goddess…the Fear energies were on the precipice…they needed only another dollop of pain to be tipped over the edge.

Pain Kiraea was all too happy to provide.

In three swift movements she curled under his blade, grasped his hand and squeezed it into a single mass of bone, skin and metal with his sabre, the power cell exploding in a brief flare that ate the flesh away.

Defenceless, pure macabre artistry was exploded out upon Xithars flesh as the furious Demi-Goddess dug her fingers in-between ribs to pry them out one by one, pushed intestinal sacs into Xithars mouth with squelching pinkish fluids slathering the once green now increasingly white skin, his own digestive juices used to consume his eyes. 

A Painting of blood and interstitial fluids that Lucovis marvelled to view…

“A masterpiece,” Lucovis whispered at the resplendent abhorrence of the scene – if only he had known such a vicious Goddess lived he would never have wasted such time on Milaea…truly this little Demi-Goddess would make a worthy addition to Her Pantheon with only the most minor of modifications.

“YES a little more!” Xithar squealed as Kiraea’s fist pushed straight up and into his intestines which she intended to feed in on themselves –a realized ouroboros fitting for his reptilian species. Blood mingled with faecal matter and stomach acids dripping down her arm as the masochistic Sith revelled in the uniqueness of the sensation.

Her other hand dug into puddles that had been eyes and wrenched his head backward the neck cracking. 

Life was flooding out like the spurting fluid from his ruptured chest, yet this was necessary, needed – desired.

Finally as his body began to convulse in death throes the Climax was reached as Lucovis screamed for sheer ecstasy.

<<<<>>>>

Terror


It was a cry that went beyond voice and sound - exploding into space time across the and through the core of Ord Mirit and out into the surrounding systems. 

A vast hurricane of Force energy created from the bottled murder essence of thousands of Xithars victims over the decade’s topped with the Gods concentrated Nightmare essence resonated outward sweeping across every living create in a shuddering immaterial wave.

Neither shields, not durasteel could halt the ethereal power of it – bulkheads and doonium hulls penetrated as easily as if they were paper.

The terrifying distillation of pain and anguish had been weaponised, agony conducted like music with tools of delusion and paranoia, editing away any trace of hope that might have clung to the edge.

The Demigods who had recovered from the first attack met it full force – their minds already in a battle state and neurologically immune to what most sentients understood as ‘fear’, they were spared the perception and emotionally distorting effects of the wave. Such an indiscriminate weapon could not destroy them – but it could stun them.

Those who were still suffering the echoes of the Mirror Orb attack were not so resilient.  Sofa’s flashbacks intensified, Selaena lost not only her voice but the memory of her husband’s face, Adaea’s fears were realized as the nightmare monsters got into her cell to grasp at her body. Melron stumbled back the dead lands overtaking his sight once more.

Kiraea jolted back from the attack and closed off her presence in self-defence, Jarys stuttered as he cleaved a Sithspawn in two, Maeson and Lyaea fell to their knees pressing out to null the aether to protect themselves.

Yet the attack while given true virulence from them was not directed at them – but at the millions of loaders, administrators, pilots and engineers across the planet.

Already struggling with the confusion and anger the cyberattack on the GSTIC and shut down of the cranes and space lane traffic had caused - now every heart and mind was pushed to the limit of sanity. 

Many simply broke, turning in bawling inconsolable wrecks, or staring blankly into space in stunned silence – others tore at their own skin trying to purge the sense of terror that had no source, the empathetic anguish from their minds.

One and all they repaid the shock wave with interest – a flood of terror and mania backwashed into the vast storage vats on the Hedonist

Dozens of Wyrms in the creamy algal soup sucked in all the microorganisms they could along with the fear to begin artificially induced mitosis that increased their number exponentially. The entirety of the bloody toll was stored within the wyrms as pure force energies – Vitiate had once long ago destroyed all life to attain a measure of divinity on Nathema - Lucovis had devised more elegant solution. 

With his Terror Bomb, the modification of a Thought Bomb carefully devised by Lucovis cognitive genius pouring over hundreds of Sith tomes in the Almas Fortress and innovation she could have her thralls and eat them too by stoking then harvesting their emotions in the wyrms through the force.

What was left of Xithar clawed away from the stumbling Demigoddess - his body already righting itself with meaty cracks and snaps as Lucovis emerged from the shadows to claim her prizes. 

An indifferent flick of her wrist sent a burst of the energy flowing in to repair Xithars body, another shot to rebuilt Vectivus just before he died.

For this was not the end and Lucovis might yet need them - the galaxy was vast even for a Goddess.

Behind her the once Jedi Oma stalked along, her righteous fury turned to fanatical devotion for the Goddess of the Sublime and Profane eager to show her former comrades in the Jedi Order the depth of her devotion - the finishing strokes of Lucovis masterpiece of deceit and manipulation was to cripple the  Jedi Order for good this very day.

Lucovis stepped out across the throne room toward the most damaged of the Demi-Gods, the curled up female reliving childhood abuses over and over…Her mind had enough of the Profane - she would be the first to be Blessed with Sublimity

<<<<>>>>

Wages of Horror

Her stomach twisted violently, Ze’Ne’Ma vomited all over the console, even Mi’ke turned white then green, then red as they all tried desperately to protect themselves from the wave that sought to unhinge their minds and turn them into fearful fleshy objects of pure paranoia.

Li herself gripped painfully on her chairs armrests as though she were on some strange emotional roller coaster that only ever plunged downward into an abyss of terror – falling forever. 

For brief moments she felt it would last forever, that this sinking metaphysical death was her eternity.

But by the mercy of the Maker it ended and a sense of calm swelled even as the acidic scent of vomit rose.

“Kage…are you…” Mike began ever concerned only with her safety

“Zen – get us down there…” she said without any pause.

<<<<>>>>

Keison flopped to the ground as the stench of burnt flesh filled his nostrils once more…his own families flesh.  The slavers were all around him once more, punishing the one he loved for defying them.

The Extolled looked around in utter confusion as their new brethren flopped and screamed uncontrollably, struck by some weapon they - by virtue of their biots or the blessing of the Yun’o - were immune to.

Recalling the mercy of the Avatar of Yun’Shuno that was called ‘Lyaea’ they did all they could to protect their freed brothers from themselves.

<<<<>>>>

The ship buckled as Tern lost control. 

Soryu had no time, even as he tried to erect a wall of light to protect the Mando’a he had to keep them from crashing.

Tossing Tern out of the pilot’s seat he grasped the yoke and pulled up moments before they smashed into a wildly spinning tug. 

The wave had two – dyes was the best word Soryu could use – the first was familiar in its way, the deep rich almost primordial power of Milaea and Valens – but this was the bulky undertone, not the piercing intent of the wave.

The resolve that pushed it outward was that same sick oily dark that had been in the Cularian system – a darkness Soryu knew he could not face then and knew he could not face alone now.

But amidst the shadows his light shield cast he felt…

He was not alone.

<<<<>>>>

Grunting out Yshrrk steadied himself as best he could as the flares and sparks of atmospheric entry seared the outer hull of the Ardent

Whatever that blast was they were heading to its epicentre…a course that seemed less and less wise with every passing moment.

Looking around he noted the Jedi Sentinels on board were already taking action to correct their course, a few of the stronger members attending to those less able to resist the attack who were now slumped or babbling in their chairs, Fear like a river pouring off them…

No not…simply leaching off them…being…sucked…what could possibly soak in such pure emotion through the Force…and why…

<Maintain course> he grunted out, shaking the doubts the wave of terror tried to instil, it was time for the Jedi to reassert Order from this chaos – not in the mould of Oma’s violent assaults on petty criminals, but against whatever Force powered maniacs had detonated this…

Terror Bomb….

<<<<>>>>

Yoda

Yoda pressed against the tide of maddening desolation, a towering fortress of the light to surround his mind.  The black waves of fear and paranoia a spluttering oil that sought any weakness in his resolve to exploit.

Had he suffered such an attack on Myrkr it would’ve succeeded…No more.  His conviction even in the face of the horror of the situation and task he must accomplish was unyielding.

No longer was he pursuing a personal vendetta, no longer was he raging against his own failures – his intent was pure to end the darkness with the cleansing flame of Light.

As his eyes opened he saw the source of the wretchedness that spewed out across the planet.

Valens struggled to his feet, coated in a mental barrier that had the same taste as the detonation – the explosion reeked with the unmistakeable primeval connection to the Force his apprentice possessed….. Just as Lucovis had intended.

“This is not my doing!” Valens screamed as he dropped the insensate Jo.

Yoda’s features were etched hard in the shadow of his sabre, ignoring the lies Valens spewed forth in favour of what Yoda’s own sense told him about the genesis of the attack – it was just another act of horrific terrorism in a long line that stretched from Vyth, to Coruscant, to Myrkr, Lexrul, Nimban now Ord Mirit. 

Justice guided Yoda’s hand as he swept forward. 

 
<<<<>>>>

Kiraea

Kiraea pushed back up as Xithar writhed in bloody spurt of unnatural regrowth. 

Twice felled her rage, her FIRE reached heights she had never imagined possible. 

There would be no third time.

Like a thermal detonator she exploded in blue flame ready to incinerate the Sith filth once more – Valens might have wanted his mind but this second attack proved he was just too dangerous to leave even a single neuron active.

As she spun toward the convulsing regrowing form a Golden armoured figure carrying a half unclothed body caught her eye – Sofa. 

As her gaze reached the face her aetheric fire spewing toward it Kiraea suddenly stopped her mind retched back to the Nightmare she had barely escape from a minute ago.

She knew every line of her face, her eyes and fuller lips, the visage she had seen every morning waking around the hearth, memories of the smell of their home filled her senses…

“Yorna?”


It was her, older features more refined but undoubtedly her sister…Yet the expression on the face she loved was alien…but still it was Yorna

Lucovis smiled. Before the dissonance and shock of seeing the artificially aged clone of her sister could dissolve Lucovis stepped deftly forward and backhanded Kiraea’s head into the floor.

<<<<>>>
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Lord_S_Gray

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

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« Reply #250 on: March 25, 2019, 01:59:53 PM »

And THIS is why Lucovis is a galaxy-class manipulator!  Incredible, tight action with truly movie-worthy imagery.  And Vectivus' & Xithar's resurrections were as awesome as they were unexpected (although, I was wondering how you were going to get around canon  Wink).

And the Terror Bomb: excellent invention and perfectly commensurate with Lucovis' machinations.  And once again, Yoda vs. Valens is back on the table, but with the Sith pulling the strings.  This chapter is DEFINITELY one of your best IMO.  And we still have the direct confrontations w/ Lucovis...

BTW: wonderful use of pics for FotA in general and this chapter in particular  Smiley
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« Reply #251 on: March 25, 2019, 02:12:43 PM »

This is just insane.   :-)   The galaxy as a whole may owe these guys a huge debt.  Had Lucovis gotten free, defeated them, established itself as the One Sith ...   Yeah, Palpatine was a picnic compared to this one.   Wow.

Tight.  Lucovis using Yorna's body, for just that little bit of opening.  And I have to echo Dutchman: the terror bomb was a great innovation.   

I still think Yoda, Soryu and Li are the wild cards.  I'm not sure that Lucovis has totally factored them in....
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« Reply #252 on: March 25, 2019, 10:33:46 PM »

I still think Yoda, Soryu and Li are the wild cards.  I'm not sure that Lucovis has totally factored them in....

*Vaders voice* Do not underestimate the power of the Goddess!!!

Had Lucovis gotten free, defeated them, established itself as the One Sith ...   Yeah, Palpatine was a picnic compared to this one.   Wow.
And THIS is why Lucovis is a galaxy-class manipulator!  I

Seriously though thanks guys, so glad Lucovis/Xithar has been as successful a Villain as I'd hoped, not too one dimensional, disturbing and genuinely sinister!
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Lord_S_Gray

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

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« Reply #253 on: March 25, 2019, 10:47:55 PM »

I think "disturbing and genuinely sinister" is accurate.  :-)
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« Reply #254 on: March 27, 2019, 09:53:22 PM »

Chapter 62 — Only What You Take With You — Aggression

Part 1

Master and Apprentice
“What’s in There?” he had asked standing knee deep in rain soaked soil before he darkened maw of the cavern

“Only what you take with you…” Yoda replied in what Valens considered an unnecessary attempt at an indirect interpretative answer.  The Jedi irritated him with their obfuscation, they seemed to consider it a sign of wisdom, Valens considered it a sign of arrogance – certainly Guardians played occasional word games and tested each other, but they never made things obscure for the sake of it.

“So the power of this place is to reflect back a prominent trait or emotion you carry with you?” he replied seeking clarification.

This annoyed Yoda, Valens too often saw through any test he was given, his training as an Aetharain Guardian - that he refused to share much of – left him…immune to so many trials one could give a Padawan. 

Quickly realising he was about to fall prey to the exact kind of emotional error this journey was meant to correct Yoda reflected on the positives of Valens piercing intellect – Yoda was forced to be better, he had to think more creatively than with any other student he’d ever had just to keep up with Valens at times – it was annoying because it was a challenge – but it was a challenge that Yoda and the Jedi sorely needed against the creeping orthodox stagnation Kimar promoted.

“A trial to know thyself yes, to see outwardly that you may not view within,”

Valens repressed a sneer – the Lady of Wisdom enjoined on all Her Children to ‘Know Thyself for through thyself are all things known’ 12 year old Children understood this, self-deception the likes of which Outsiders displayed was not an issue for Aethan Culture – even now he saw in his reflection the arrogance and sense of superiority over this Jedi trial, he could repress and refocus his thoughts if he so chose. 

He did not. 

Instead he simply stepped forward still armed.  He had been to places rich with the aether back home, this cavern was above average - but unexceptional.  There was no test of wrathful pride here – his sabre and weapons were mere tools on his belt not statements of intent or comfort object to ward off fears.

To fail his People, that was the terror that he took with him – to be the last…alone…

Pushing through the hanging roots and rotting fungi he reached the deepest passage of the cavern swiftly, the aether deep but not overwhelming. It teased at his mind, fluttering at the edges of consciousness…he allowed it access to one level as he often did Yoda…Yoda was a capable Aether user, but reading six levels of conscious thought simultaneously as Valens possessed was beyond even him, allowing Valens to keep his true thoughts and feelings hidden.

The tangle turned to tremble as he allowed the aether to show him his current pressing fear…

Yoda walked slowly from the other side of the cavern, Kimar, Soryu, Yshrrk and Gurrlum behind him,

“Your true intentions revealed, beliefs and desires exposed…no Jedi are you nor ever will be…” 

Their sabres lit magnificently, the five strongest warriors of the Order, even he couldn’t take them all at once

“By Right of the Jedi Council, in the Name of the Republic…sentence you and all your kind to death I do!…”


That is my fear, that they will realise too soon…before Milaea is old enough and our home is rebuilt…

He didn’t resist the strike that fell upon him in the illusionary world, buckling to his knees soaking the nondescript robes with mud, the faux shocks of their blows a chilling reminder he needed to be more cautious…play a longer game than they could. 

Valens had no intention of fighting the Jedi, only using them then slipping away…but as Kimar struck at his neck he worried that…at some point…their arrogant orthodoxy might instigate a conflict.

Yoda’s brow furrowed as his apprentice returned, he had Seen but not seen Valens experience…it was…sketchy…he seemed to fear that the Jedi would turn on him suddenly…a paranoia understandable given his first experience of the outside galaxy was slavers destroying his home and culture.

Yoda hopped across roots and rocks to reach him placing his claw on Valens shoulder.

“Forsake you the Jedi shall not,”

<<<<>>>>

Beast and Goddess


He was on the ground, fists smacking into him, limbs being dragged, armour being rustled off violently.

The shockwaves of the second mental attack in less than a minute reverberating in his head – less focused than the first but effective because it followed the first so quickly

Then he felt it.  Kiraea’s blazing temper ignited to the full –

Then snuffed out as if it never rose.

“AAARRRGGHHH” like a vorynx woken from slumber he threw himself up buffeting the Nova Corps aside.

The Morgukai were struggling, even with their suppressive abilities and ritual battle trances they had been struck hard, two of their number had fallen, but three would have to do.

Melron was similarly afflicted, covered in Nova Corps trying to pin him down and Sofa…

Pieces of her armour littered the floor where she had been curled up.

In a rapid loping charge Jarys blitzed through the Nova Corps, infusing his limbs with the aether to give them strength greater than durasteel he pummelled through them, snapping, breaking, twisting meat and metal infusions of Sith alchemy apart with brute strength, then grasping Melron’s shoulder and pulling him up, his bestial rage shocking Melron’s system enough to get some cohesion in one level of consciousness.

With grace driven by fury he bounded from the throne room following Kiraea’s scent just in time to see…

Yorna in golden purple armour taking off her sister’s breast plate.

No not Yorna, Yorna was gone…this Abomination was an artificially aged clone that needed to die – or so his thoughts would’ve run were there any more to them than the fanatical need to protect his and his brothers females.

Two BattleLords that were once Jedi moved to slow his path…even before Jarys had finished analysing their alchemically distorted bodies for weaknesses Melron’s blade was through one of their necks – the implicit instruction clear – Jarys was to rescue Kiraea and destroy the Abomination, Melron would handle the rest.

The Aether blasting a hole between them he rushed forward as the BattleLords blood bonded Nova Crops rushed to intercept, behind him the hissing and crack of Melrons blade against sabres.

Anger infused limbs Jarys swung his sword far faster than even the enhanced Nova Crops could match chunks of warped flesh flew apart with oily slicks of gangrenous blood as he struck toward Lucovis.

The Goddess merely smiled at the bestial rage that would soon be hers to control. 

So many bodies she would profane with sexual ecstasies, this one would be the perfect mate…once enhanced with extra limbs and pleasure organs of course.
 
With her guards gone or distracted for the moment she had little choice but to engage, dropping the females to the floor.

The Beast met the Goddess with a clash of fist on forearm that shattered the golden purple gauntlet and sending shockwaves that destroyed the subbasement walls nearby.

<<<<>>>>

Master and Apprentice


Jo’s half open eyes stared absently up as Yoda’s Ataru flourish came down, Valens shifted out of the way reaching for his sword. 

“This…it’s not me…the Sith!” Valens protested feeling through the depths of the aether Kiraea, Jarys and Melron in dire straits, but none worse than…Sofa.

Yoda ignored the attempt by his insane apprentice to distract him and flew forward – he had been divided against himself the last time they fought, this time there was no division – just Unity and Order.

Valens shifted relying on his superior natural speed, knowing it would take time he didn’t have for Yoda to speed up to his level. 

This was all wrong, he didn’t want to fight Yoda, especially not now…yet what choice is there?

None….

Yoda’s blade grazed his pauldron then pommel struck his chest as the Jedi Master found his flow at the absolute limit of his aether enhanced speed. 

It was the wrong enemy, at the wrong time, for the wrong reason – but for all Valens had done he had dug his own grave by courting the wrath of the Jedi Master who now sought him while a Sith Goddess ran riot.

<<<<>>>>

Beast and Goddess

No thought, only furious instinct drove him forward, slashing and cutting at the lithe perverted form that had Yorna’s face but not her grace or compassion. 

Lucvois weaved through the ferocious blows, even at the apex of rage the bestial male retained a level of strategic cohesion that shamed the coolest masters of dejarik.

It was the first time Lucvois had ever faced what could be considered a ‘match’ - her body pulsing with the desire to rip off her clothes and mount him – to feel that strength within her own body…but it would have to wait till she was that body!

The Golden purple glow of the Power sword moved like a solid wall looking for purchase behind Jarys guard – mental strikes assailed him on every side, a second didn’t pass without an attempt to telekinetically rip his feet from under him.

He responded with fists lit with lighting, juggling his sword effortlessly trying to find a gap in the shimmering field of defence- when he didn’t hit the blade he slammed into telekinetic barriers the energy arcing off and twisting to strike the purple gold plate melting off the outer anodized layers into hissing steam.

Lucovis felt the thrill of learning once more, seeing how he moved, how the force rippled through and around him…ah such divinity when combined in herself!

The Abomination spun quickly, the braid of blood red hair twirling and slicing a gash into his shin armour – between the locks was some kind of viciously thin tremor blade.

The Purple sword returned to its assault as he backtracked, the clash against his Black blade sent superheated white sparks that lit the corridor revealing the walls trembling with the shockwaves of their clashes.

Lucovis had little time to play…she had six of the Demi Gods incapacitated, the fool Jedi Master Yoda would soon wear out the others, then she would need to collect them from their unwilling hands…she simply could not wait a moment longer than necessary to begin the Apotheosis of her Pantheon now the wyrms were filled with the raw fear and madness from the millions on Ord Mirit to fuel the Alchemy needed.

Again the riot of golden slashes pressed Jarys hard, Kiraea was back to the right on the floor not moving near where Sofa had been unceremoniously dumped.

He had to protect her, she was his mate, his People, their Priestess….he hadn’t been there for Cilina…for Milaea…tears stung with his blink…shoulders painful from the blows he kept from getting through – he wouldn’t fail Kiraea.

A left diagonal met his blade and he pushed out with all his strength, the Abomination laughed but still staggered a little – it was not invincible – its refined golden armour spoke of sophistication, excess, refinement. 

Jarys charged it like a beast.

Back straining swings bashed down against its guard, though heavy they were far from slow, the air barely registering the displacement of one before a third was coming down – each frustratingly close to getting past the wall of parries he was met with. 

Taking a different tact it fired lighting into his chest as his sword swung in an overhead cut, he felt the burn lessened by the Blackstone armour and war paint, but only lessened. 

He buffeted back with telekinesis, not to push away but to pull the creature in into his ferocious downward slash – the blow met the power sword and this time took a solid divot of the golden blade, momentarily flashing concern on the Abominations face.

Dancing through the blows and parries like ballerina Lucvois let out a blast of energy into his chest exposed for a mere microsecond.

Like a mag-train it struck him through the wall on the other side of the Throne room…then the next wall…then the next.

The power was sticky and infecting twisting and sinking into him like an unshakeable burden.

“Abomination…” a voice whispered behind her as the beast finally reached the end of his momentum.

Twisting she went to parry, but the attack did not come from there.

Melron, face scarred from the hits he had taken destroying the two BattleLords and half a dozen Nova Crops thereafter, slammed his blade through to her face, even her extreme reflexes didn’t allow her to avoid it fully.

The marble skin was parted along a 5mm length by his Blackstone blade, ruby blood rich with heavy metals poisonous to the vast majority of life forms but essential for such divine flesh pooled in a perfect tear.

The once old man thrust and cut with his unique combination of Morgukai and Aethan technique, Djen Sha at her head, swiftly into Tur-wo defensive low strikes attempting to destabilise her – but the Aethenaea cortex that allowed them to learn from observation with precision unknown to any naturally evolved species pulsed with neural activity in her mind too, six, seven, eight blows was all it took for Lucovis to devise a working model of Melron’s technique. 

Jarys was not down for long leaping up, red haze of pain equivalent sensory input stoking his rage further. 

Loping over the ruined walls his mouth hungered for his enemies blood.

<<<<>>>>
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."

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