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Author Topic: Retrieval  (Read 21442 times)
TheDutchman
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


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« Reply #60 on: November 02, 2021, 03:47:42 PM »

A dangerous method indeed but the extended family had the key the trap couldn't comprehend. I suppose it makes sense the trap was likely built originally for beings similar to or perhaps even other rakatta lords, powerful ambitious and almost completely self centred. Again and again in this series it has been the whole unit that has allowed them to succeed, united they stand, divided they would have fallen on Taris
 That is their strength and that is what will help D'alyanna recover...it won't be easy and she has much to catch up on but with her families help she could be in no better hands.

Have to admit i thought from the intro Rakhams call for help would be answered by his Kadmaur mental shard. Doubtless its still in there...and Rakham may very well be the one who needs rescuing if he can't contain it, i fear the exertion of Taris now the mind trap may open up dangerous crack...

Good catches!  You are precisely correct^^

Just a little bit of a "peek behind the curtain:" the Kadmaur mental shard (I'm TOTALLY stealing that phrase BTW  Wink) responded to the Cerean womens' Qâzoi Kyantuska on Taris...because that's what he'd used before on Rakham.  It seems that that particular Sith ability seems to pop up when you least expect it...and with unforseen ramifications just like what happened between [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]  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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #61 on: May 13, 2022, 10:46:24 PM »


Chapter 14: “Aliit ori'shya tal'din” (Family Is More Than Blood), part II

"Make a hole!" One of the heavy-weapons Hit Squad members barked before trotting up the crowded wide ramp leading into the Fenris' Dirge hold.  Effortlessly, Jorya deftly glided out of the Mandalorian's way, giving him a nod of thanks.  He was carrying one of the larger cargo containers in his arms, body language as well as the tone of his voice indicative of the obvious strain that he was under.  Looking past him, she tried to suppress a smile.

"Edda..." She spoke softly in a clandestine whisper, indicating with a nod of her head, "...Watch."  Infected by her friend's mood, the young Hapan woman grinned, surreptitiously observing as the Mandalorian loudly put down the heavy container, letting out an audible sigh of relief.  Jorya's eyes then followed the Hit Squad trooper as he exited, suddenly slowing before his boots had hit the ground.  Even with his helmet on, Jorya and Edda could tell that he was staring.  Both young women suppressed their laughter upon seeing the man's shoulders visibly slump, his helmeted head cocking in disbelief.

Coming towards them was Father, carrying a similar container, only he'd balanced it on his right shoulder, while in his left hand he carried one of the replacement medpacks.  Jorya knew that the medpack alone weighed well over 50kg, the container significantly more.  And while Father's jaw was clenched in effort, he still moved as if only moderately encumbered.  "Do you need a hand, Father?" Jorya asked innocently, watching the other Hit Squad specialists.  Their helmeted eyes continued to follow Father even as he boarded.

Distractedly, Zearic answered, "No, Jorya, thank you."  Finally placing the two containers down, he thumbed the button activating the mag-locks, securing them in their place.  "Dear One, would you please initialize our departure protocols?  I know that your Mother will want to be ready for take off as soon as everything is complete."  He finally looked around, noticing for the first time that almost every single Hit Squad member was staring at him.  "Did I accidentally shave off half of my beard and mustache?" His question seemed to break the spell, the Mandalorians once again began moving about their business, more than a few either shaking their heads or giving a chuckle.

But when Father looked at Jorya and Edda, he gave them a conspiratorial wink, causing both of them to laugh aloud.  While the members of Hit Squad wondered what the commotion was about, there was a general ambiance of goodwill and hope coming from everyone.  After everything that they'd been through, from the Revenant War to the retrieval of the Mind Trap on Taris, everyone felt like they could finally relax, having earned some well-deserved downtime.  Besides it was time for the Vhal'Dan to get back to Sekot, having spent months with the Templars and Hit Squad.  But one and all they'd never forget their time fighting side-by-side, forged in the fires of battle, binding friends and family inextricably together.

With the last of the supplies stored away, Zearic first personally thanked every person who'd helped them, giving each a firm shake of hands before finally joining his daughter and her friend.

"As glad as I am to have that done, I can honestly say that I'm sorry to be leaving the Archives." He said, doing a once-over of the hold, slowly nodding to himself.  "Good job you two.  Fenris' Dirge looks as new as if she'd just come from the Sekot Shipyards."  He put a big hand upon Jorya's shoulder, engulfing it.  "Good thing, too.  Your Mother would never forgive me for not taking care of her 'true love.'"

Edda and Jorya returned his smile.  "Thanks, Dad.  And don't worry; she's ready for Mother."  She sobered quickly though.  "Um, Dad?  Could I talk to Edda alone, please?"

Zearic nodded.  "Of course, Dear One." He said immediately.  But before leaving he turned to the shorter woman.  "Edda, I'm happy to see that my daughter has a friend like you to count on.  She has a good head on her shoulders; takes after her Mother, thank the Maker."  He proffered his calloused hand towards her.  "Speaking for myself: I'm grateful for everything that you've done for my family.  If there's anything that I can do, you need but ask."  The tone of his voice matched the solemnity of his face.  "You have my eternal gratitude, Edda."

Bashfully, the young Hapan woman looked briefly at his hand but ignored it, she instead stepped towards Zearic and gave him a quick hug, or at least as far as her arms could reach around the wide man.  "You're welcome." She said quietly, her raspy voice full of warmth.

Looking down at her, Zearic gave a quick smile while gently patting her back.  Stepping away, he once again grinned at Jorya before exiting the cargo hold and walked towards the immense rocky Temple Archives.  The loading complete, the Mandalorians also headed into the Archives leaving the two friends alone.

Edda nodded towards where Zearic had disappeared.  "Your Father's a good man." Even now after countless bacta treatments, her voice still affected from the horrible burns she'd suffered in her youth, turning her words into a croak.

Jorya nodded.  "The best."  Her smile became wistful.  "Edda, I...I wanted to give you something."  In an uncharacteristic display of inelegance, she fumbled in one of her belt pouches, producing something shiny.  It was a kyber crystal.  Handing it to Edda, Jorya wrapped both of her delicate orange hands around her friend's.  "It's the first crystal that I ever 'harmonized' with, back when I was taking my Trial of the Dragon Caves."  She withdrew her hands, a somewhat pensive look upon her face as she stared at the shorter Hapan woman.

Edda's eyes sparkled as she scrutinized the crystal: it was a brilliant hue of sapphire, the light subtly shining from within, indicative of having attuned to its owner.  It was as rare a gift that could ever be given and Edda knew it.  A slow smile spread across her face as she looked up at the taller woman.  "I...Jorya...I don't know what to say..." Edda whispered.

Jorya looked intensely at her friend.  "I do.  I'm proud of you, of your achievements and progress, and not just with the lightsaber; all of it.  I'm thankful for all of the help that you gave my family."  Her face suddenly softened.  "But most of all, I'm happy to have a friend like you."  With that, the two women embraced warmly.  "I hope that you'll come to Sekot someday soon."  She spoke into the top of Edda's black hair.

"Me too." Edda's muffled reply came against Jorya's lekku.  "And thank you for...for everything: teaching me, training me, always helping me along the way." She rasped, the hand holding the crystal turning white from the pressure as she hugged Jorya tightly.  "I'll miss you, my friend."

Jorya gave a brief laugh.  "So will I."  Her blue eyes were watery.  She reflected back on everything: from Mother answering Master Rakham's call, to the back-and-forth throughout the Revenant War, to both trips to Taris, to seeing Father--renewed!--for the first time since he'd left for the Deep Core all those months ago, to finally seeing Mother awaken from her entrapment, all thanks to Master Rakham and Mistress Dala.  She thought of the many training sessions with Edda, how she'd worked so hard to get better...which, ironically, made Jorya herself better as well.

Smiling wistfully, Jorya thought about what it meant, really meant, to be a maenowan.  For her, that was still years off in the future...yet it no longer seemed the insurmountable objective that she'd feared it to be.  Both Mother and Father had been successful maenowans and, despite whatever Arbiter Damarcus had done, Jorya still thought of Father as one.  But more importantly, she now felt confident enough that she too could become a capable teacher.

Of course, having as good a student as Edda had certainly helped.

"C'mon, let's catch up to Father.  I've yet to say my 'good-byes' to Masters Rakham and Heditt, or Mistress Dala." Jorya said.  Father was right; she was going to miss this place and the friends she'd made, most especially Edda.  Just like Mother and Master Rakham considered one another near-siblings, so too did Jorya feel about Edda. 

They were sisters, by bond if not blood.

Arm in arm, the two young women walked down the ramp of the Infiltrator, following Zearic as they headed into the Archives after him.

          <<<<< >>>>>
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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
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« Reply #62 on: May 13, 2022, 10:47:18 PM »


Chapter 14: “Aliit ori'shya tal'din” (Family Is More Than Blood), part III

"Are you sure you'll not stay?  Dala's been bothering me to take a break since before the start of the War." Rakham's easy smile was comforting and would've been believable if not for the obvious concern in his eyes.  "Besides...me an' Zearic are finally civil to each other.  Although..." He took a step towards the much shorter woman, a hushed tone to his voice that could nevertheless be heard clearly across the room.  "...How you ever got him domesticated I'll never know."

Craning her neck, D'Aylanna smiled fully, only a vestige of the pain she was in showing on her face.  "You'd be surprised.  He knows enough that he could avoid most of the pitfalls at Court." She joked, continuing her slow, deliberate strides across the large Hall.  "But then again, what non-Hapan male could ever be acceptable to Ta'a Chume?  I'm sure you remember." They both smiled at the shared memories of their first meeting on Hapes Prime.  "By the Maker, I'm glad to have escaped from there..." She whispered.

Suddenly, D'Aylanna's right leg buckled.  It wasn't by very much and was over as quick as it had happened but Rakham was suddenly right next to her, his arms held out, both to catch as well as protect.  Taking a steadying breath, D'Aylanna looked up at her near-brother, eyes grateful.  "I'm fine." She unnecessarily straightened her gray skirts.  "...But thank you still."

Rakham nodded.  "Of course, Marquesa." He said with a hint of mirth, if only to mask the spiked worry.  "You know, it's only been a week so you might want to take it easy, have Zearic help you out."  He pointed a thumb vaguely behind him.  "I mean there must be some benefit of having married a man who is literally three times your size." He had a sardonic grin on his lips.

D'Aylanna chuckled appreciatively.  "My Shakal is a finer man than all of the Illuminated Ones within the entire Consortium." She said proudly and sincerely.  Shakal  It was D'Aylanna's nickname for her husband.  It translated from Hapan as "worthy" or "he who is worthy," an exemplar that was rarely used in the highly matriarchal society of Hapes Prime.

But for D'Aylanna her Zearic most certain was, that and more.

Despite his joking, Rakham also knew the validity of that truth, especially after getting to know him: the wide Vhal'Dan was a good man.  But it was still a relief to be able to once again jest with his near-sister.  "Well at least you'll never need an umbrella to keep the suns off of your face whenever you visit the Consortium, at least not with Zearic beside you."  He joked, offering his muscular arm for D'Aylanna to steady herself.  Thankfully and to the surprise of them both, she only needed to use one of her hands on his arm to steady her.  "See?  Your body's getting stronger every day." He said, all levity gone from his voice, his eyes intense. 

It was true.  Thanks in no small part to the treatment routine that Zearic had programmed the medical droids with, their careful ministrations had staved off the worst of atrophy and physiological degeneration.  And even though D'Aylanna still wasn't as strong as she normally was,  she had unsurprisingly improved exponentially in the seven days since she'd been freed from the Mind Trap, further testament to her indomitable spirit. 

Still, it was a process.

Sitting in one of the many chairs arranged around the enormous table within the vast stone Hall, D'Aylanna looked up at Rakham, giving him a grateful if tired smile.  "Again, thank you."  For as exhausted as she was, she refused to close her eyes, the uncommonly bright daylight sun shining through the transparasteel shutters, bathing the entire Hall in light.  For D'Aylanna, it was as close to Hapes Prime as she could get given the circumstances.  Breathing in deeply, she smiled, feeling the comforting presence of her family around her.

"Ereneda..." Her Shakal's deep voice--so incongruous with its intensity and tenderness!--caressed her ears as he walked up from behind her.  "Thanks to everyone, we're ready."  His big hands rested upon her narrow shoulders, their heavy weight not uncomfortable.  She still couldn't believe that he no longer had his cybernetics but, as he'd assured her, it was a long tale for another time.  But as far as she was concerned, it was a gift; she'd seen him during the worst bouts of pain as he had dealt quietly with the Rejection Syndrome with his cybernetics, regardless of how close the bio-genetic interface was.  And, above all, she trusted him implicitly. 

Enjoying the moment, she nuzzled her face on her husband's thick arm, grateful for the tactile sensations.  That was the worst of the Mind Trap: there was nothing corporeal within, only unending, intangible nothingness.  Well...not "nothingness."  In the time that she'd been imprisoned, there had been a...a shrieking entity that must have been half-mad, responding only sporadically to D'Aylanna while its teeth-gritting screams pierced the void.  She feared that it was actually her that had gone mad, but now knew better thanks to Rakham.  Whatever had happened to the previous occupant, they had left a...a "mental shard."  Or so he'd called it. 

D'Aylanna was a strong woman.  But she knew that if she'd been trapped within for longer, she would most certainly have suffered more than the minor atrophy of her body...

With a quick shake of her head, she divested herself of such ruminations.  No need to go down those hyperspace lanes leading into darkness... Instead, she chose to focus on those with her in the here-and-now.

Even without looking, she knew that almost everyone had gathered within the Hall: Rak's wife Dala had come in closely followed by Heddit and Lt. Alvai, while her Jorya and her friend Edda were close on her Shakal's heels.  About three dozen members of Hit Squad--those both with and without helmets--had also surrounded them, most of them mingling with the other Vhal'Dan Jedi that had answered the Templar's call against the Revenant.  But the one person that seemed conspicuously quiet was Berra.  The Miraluka Templar hadn't so much as said a word to D'Aylanna since she'd escaped the Mind Trap.  Before she could speak, Rakham and Dala were there in front of her, virtually identical looks of bittersweet happiness radiating from their faces.

"Well Marquesa, I think I've let you leech off of the Templars for long enough." Rakham's voice was whimsical but his eyes were not.  Staring deeply into them, she saw just how worried he'd been.  No, still was.

Dala elbowed him.  "That's no way to talk to your sister, nerf-herder." She mock-admonished, her face softening when she addressed D'Aylanna.  "You're always welcome here and will always have a home."  Gently, she wrapped the smaller Hapan woman in a tight embrace.  "Thank you for helping us, you and Jorya both."  She smiled.

Even as a tear slid down her brown face, D'Aylanna looked regal.  But her smile radiated the joy and gratitude that she felt.  "No Dala, thank you...and Rak."  She hugged the Templar woman back.  Even standing, the top of D'Aylanna's head barely reached Dala's nose, but there was nothing humorous about the tableau. 

An ambiance of wistfulness filled the Hall as each of those present spoke of friends gathered and those lost during the Revenant War, the horrors of Taris, and the genius of Rakham&Dala's plan for the Mind Trap.  Many of the members of Hit Squad lingered back respectfully to allow the friends their time together before the Vhal'Dan parted ways with the Templars.  Yet despite that, each person felt the lingering happiness and contentment as they said their goodbyes, hoping that neither distance nor time would separate them much.

D'Aylanna found herself alone in the eye of the proverbial storm as those around her made their rounds to one another.  She was not (or felt) alone, it was that everyone had spoken their words to her; but because of such, she saw something that made her smile...

After speaking to everyone else, her Shakal and Rakham suddenly found themselves facing one another, a growing awkwardness surrounding them.  She smiled tightly as she looked on: an extremely wide man standing next to a very tall man, both with identical looks on their faces.  D'Aylanna was about to say something when Rakham extended his hand in front of him.  It was such a simple gesture, one that was as ubiquitous to courtesy the galaxy throughout...

Simple...and perfect.  D'Aylanna saw her husband take Rakham's hand and then a relieved if small smile upon his face as he wrapped Rakham in a quick bearhug.  She could've swore that she'd heard Rakham grunt in effort as Zearic lifted him bodily, the crunch of bones audible from the embrace.  "I can never thank you enough, Rakham." She heard the gratitude in his voice.  "You'll always have a place with us on Sekot." 

"Don't mention it." He wheezed as Zearic placed him back upon the ground. 

D'Aylanna's eyes connected with Dala's, the two women sharing an amused grin.  Looking around the room, it seemed that everyone had been taken in by the goodwill demonstrated by the two disparate men; even the Arbiter's normal frown was missing!  D'Aylanna bowed her head, contemplative.  It was a comforting reminder for what both the Templars and the Vhal'Dan were fighting for.

"D'Aylanna." A quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.  Looking up, the diminutive Hapan Speaker smiled at Berra.

"My friend, I was worried that I wouldn't see you before we lef--" She began only to be cut off.

"I'm so, so sorry.  I should've never left you."  Berra's face was tight, her voice choked with chagrin.  "I...I should've done more.  I...I..." The Miraluka balled her small hands into fists while clenching her teeth.

With a soft smile, D'Aylanna gently grabbed the taller woman's hands.  "Berra, you were never to blame.  And how could you--could any of us!--have known?  If it hadn't been for Rak, I doubt that any of us would have guessed what had happened."  She squeezed her friend's hands between both of hers.

"And there was no way that we would have ever been able to recover D'Aylanna, not without everything that you did, Berra.  Besides, we already spoke about this and at length." Zearic's deep voice came from behind the two women.  Placing one hand upon each of them, each one enveloping their shoulders, Zearic drew them into an embrace.  "Berra, my friend, the only reason that my Ereneda is here is because of you."  He looked intently at her hooded face.  "I cannot thank you enough."

Berra seemed to finally accept that, her own face relaxing.  "I...you're welcome, both of you."  Hugging first Zearic and then D'Aylanna, she held them both at arm's length.  "You are my family, you and Jorya.  I will miss you."  She gave a bittersweet smile and then a small, tender gesture of benediction.  "May Ashla keep and bless you." 

D'Aylanna nodded her appreciation, sensing that Berra had finally seemed to unburden herself from the presumed responsibility that she was in no way culpable for.  Good; what had happened to her was no one's fault, least of all Berra's.  It spoke of the Miraluka's character and the depth of her friendship, to Zearic and Jorya as well as hersel--

With jarring violence, D'Aylanna felt her consciousness shift as it was shunted forth, her hands gripping her head while a panicked, shrill scream erupted forth from her throat.  A Premonition, stronger than any she'd ever encountered, ripped through her mind, feeling as if she were caught in the middle of a gale-force tempest, the slicing winds tearing the very flesh from her body.

But worse than that was the agony she felt in her soul.  Horrified, she "looked on" bearing witness to her Vision.

As she stood defiant in the face of the incoming, inexorable black tide, D'Aylanna ignited her lightsaber, dual purple blades eager to burn the increasingly falling rain pelting her...only to realize the futility of it all.  Death, violent and savage, exploded from the Unknown in an inundating flood covering star system after star system, each individual that it touched dying horribly, contributing to the growing Darkness.  On either side of the flood were two beings that D'Aylanna could not identify, not because she didn't recognize them but because their faces were completely blank save for two enormous, ravenous mouths.  From one, the thing's mouth constantly vomited blood, the red tissue feeding the flood, turning black as it did so.  However, a single viscous string separated from the river of blood, that same rivulet constantly consumed by the other being as its pale mouth accepted the blood as if reluctant yet determined to devour it all.  And still the flood continued.

But suddenly there were four barriers, disparate and different, that could--should they all work together--contain the black waters before they drowned everything in sight...but only if all four barriers were employed together.  Even then, the rising flood would erode away a portion of each barrier, leaving that which was left behind stronger but nevertheless haunted...

What it all meant, D'Aylanna could not say, only that it WOULD occur in the future...and the only way to survive the incoming tsunami would be to unite together.  But unite whom?

When D'Aylanna's Vision finally cleared, she looked around.  Naturally, her Shakal was cradling her in his big arms, his face carved with worry, everyone else gathered around behind him with virtually identical looks of concern.  "Ereneda...are OK?  What happened?" Zearic's tone matched his face.  After a moment to collect herself, D'Aylanna stood, her legs still shaky.

But as soon as she recovered herself, she told them all, leaving nothing out, the terror only increasing while she spoke.
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
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #63 on: May 15, 2022, 10:39:00 PM »

The title says it all. “Family is more than blood is a running theme through many of Dutch’s stories, e.g. Zearic/Jorya/D’Alyanna and Kazic/Saani/Aresaea in the positive light and Kazic/Anson in the negative.  Here it reaches a positive apogee between the Templars and Vhal’Dan as D’Alyanna begins her recovery, some question about Zearic’s own ‘recovery’ wisely put to the side for the time being. But amidst the well wishes and the bonding over shared travails there is a far darker edge, firstly who or what is left behind in that mind trap as a shard, a hideous fate to be sure…but most striking is the Vision.  Perhaps the most horrific yet utterly compelling Force Vision I’ve read, tides of death faceless beings dripped in blood…D’Alyanna is not especially known for premonitions, perhaps her state after escaping from the mind trap left her especially ‘vulnerable’ to such a hideous certainty.  But what does it all mean, and what if anything can those clustering around her now do to avert/Prepare/Interpret These vague yet utterly menacing tidings?
It seems their family like unity will be a necessity to survive what is to come.

Meta-note:that pic of D’alyanna proxy in the rain is very well themed!
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
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #64 on: May 26, 2022, 08:02:47 PM »

Thanks!

This was one of my favorite pics that I found on the net; I just knew that I would have to use it  Smiley

Plus, aside from the fact that D'Aylanna has dark eyes, that pic is an excellent analogue, dark lips, purple lightsaber, and all  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

TheDutchman
Knight Commander
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


Avatar courtesy of For Tyeth


« Reply #65 on: June 30, 2022, 08:23:20 PM »


Chapter 15: The Strength of Many; the Strength of Few

As Fenris' Dirge broke through the bloated, cumulous clouds and out of the small moon's outer troposphere it was not alone.  Following the Hapan-manufactured Infiltrator were four large Mandalorian gunboats, all five ships dark, sleek, and deadly.

As were their occupants.

"I've transmitted the coordinates and await 'handshake' verification." Jorya's voice was the very definition of professionalism.  Zearic gave a small smile; not for the first time did he feel immense pride for his daughter.  Watching her casually, the large Cataphract noticed how her long, slender orange fingers seemed to dance across the controls, the white-blue hue from the ship-to-ship hologram emphasizing the differences that months of absence caused.

...D'Aylanna taught her well... He thought.  Only now he no longer felt wistful, not after his wife's recovery.  Closing his eyes, Zearic thanked the Maker for family, allies, and good friends.  And for the first time in months, he allowed himself to actually relax, his own fears of past experiences with Karmack pushed down below the threshold of his worry (although it was still there in the back of his mind).  Still, he had reason to feel relief.  Looking over his shoulder, he saw from the corner of his eye the meditating form of a small woman, her legs crossed even as she sat upon the deck, a serene bent to her beautiful brown face.

D'Aylanna, his wife.  His Ereneda.

"Confirmed.  Slaving our navicom to yours." The voice coming from the hologram was deep for a woman's, her tight tone crisp with a military precision that bespoke of reliability and confidence.  "See you next when we make planetfall, Mistress."  Zearic turned his head in time to see the Mandalorian formally salute, the holographic projection showing the gleaming beskar armor of the officer.  She was of a height with him, big although nowhere near as wide.  "Captain Alvai out."  Even as the hologram faded, he noticed a change in the Force, courtesy of his connection to both his daughter and his wife.

After his Ereneda's Premonition, things had grown tense in the Archives, everyone speaking at once.  But then Rakham's voice had cut through all of the noise, his words wise, patient, and calming.  There was no way to know when this "dark tide" was coming, but at least they could prepare.

Not surprisingly, D'Aylanna had provided a plan: a formal alliance between the Templars and the Vhal'Dan.  Not only was D'Aylanna 7th Speaker on the Council of Balance, but the Arbiter, Listian Damarcus, was still in the Archives proper.  As serendipitous as it was, the fact that the Vhal'Dan were there to begin with was a stark reminder of the Revenant War.  To say that negotiations were short and uncomplicated was an understatement.

The new Templar-Vhal'Dan Alliance was simple: if one group came under attack, the other would lend assistance and render aid.  Of course, it helped dramatically that members from both groups had fought together, often saving one another.

And so, it was that a kind of "exchange program" developed: several of the Gray Jedi from the Vhal'Dan would stay with Rakham, his to command under the purview of the Templar Grand Master.  Conversely, several individual Templars would travel to Zonama Sekot as ambassadors, an almost unprecedented program of open and free trade of materiel, knowledge, and ideas.  But that wasn't all that the Templars had provided.

A sizable contingent of Hit Squad Mandalorians were to accompany the Vhal'Dan to Sekot as well, to operate as an independent Spec Ops detachment, the Concordat Company.  As a result, the Hit Squad leaders had promoted Lieutenant Lhyli Alvai as the new Company's Captain.

And, thanks to D'Aylanna, Hit Squad's coffers were also addressed.  "I wish to secure the employ of Hit Squad for the Vhal'Dan."  She'd reached into one of her belt's pouches, producing an earring.  Hanging from an aurodium rope was an incredibly vibrant gemstone, the light scintillating brightly from within.  It was a Hapan rainbow gem.  It was rumored that the Hapan Royal Princess' tiara featured enough rainbow gems to buy a solar system; indeed, they were that valuable.  While "merely" a single, small stone, the earring would easily be enough to hire Hit Squad for years to come.

However, when Captain Alvai had called upon volunteers, they could only take every two in three Mandalorians given the number who tried to enlist.  Again, it was testament to the bonds and trust between the Templars and Vhal'Dan developed in the conflagration of war.  

To commemorate the occasion, the Company would take on special nomenclature: they were now the Concordat Mandalorians.

All of this went through Zearic's mind as he continued to look from his daughter to his wife.  And, although he knew it to be fleeting, the wide Cataphract knew that it was this, his family, that he would never stop fighting for.  It also renewed his own fears, the uncertainty concerning his own actions around the Black Armors...which, invariably led to the his experiences with Karmack.

He'd put it off to focus on getting his Ereneda back, everything for her Retrieval.  Now was the time.

He closed his eyes, his face remarkably calm.  ...As soon as we're in hyperspace... He promised.

However, before he knew it, Zearic was fast asleep, the trials, tribulations, and events of the past few months finally catching up to him.

For the first time in a long while, Koawan Zearic Vih'Torr, Silver Knight of the Vhal'Dan, Tertius of Triad Senth of the Cataphracts, slept absent his nightmares.  Not those from the Tenebris, not those about Mendax, not those about Karmack, not those from Taris.  And if he dreamed, it was to the sounds of a dulcet Hapan lullaby where, walking along a white-sanded beach, he saw his Ereneda approaching him, a smile upon her lips, her love for him evident upon her face, her dark, delicate toes barely tracking through the sands as she ran the remainder of the way to jump into his waiting arms as they kissed one another over and over again.

          <<<<< >>>>>



Having helped Mother carry her sleeping Father gently with the Force, Jorya laid him down upon the bed within her parent's shared quarters.  Gently, she removed his boots, careful to wake him.  She need not worried; after everything that he'd been through, this was the first deep sleep that she'd seen him take since coming to the Archives.  She mused that even the ship's warning klaxon wouldn't be sufficient to wake Father.

Once done, she took a moment to help Mother remove her own boots, robe, and outer tunic.  With a soft word of thanks, D'Aylanna stopped her daughter, her small hand as hard as durasteel, her large, dark eyes looking up at Jorya.  "Dear One..." Mother still wasn't used to speaking.  "...I wanted to thank you for everything: for saving me, helping Master Rakham, but mostly..." Her dark brow furrowed.  "...But mostly for taking care of your Father when I could not..."  Unshed tears shone in Mother's eyes while she seemed to search for the right words.  With patience, Jorya comforted her.

"It's alright, Mother."  She held onto her Mother's smaller hand.  "I've got you, both.  I love you." She said, earnestly.

As if a weight had been taken from her, D'Aylanna wordlessly nodded her thanks, silent tears of relief streamed down her brown cheeks.  "We...I...love you so much, Jorya..." Her voice already growing softer as her midnight blue hair rested upon her pillow, D'Aylanna's hand reaching for her husband's much larger hand.  Soon, both of their breathing slowed and, in what was definitely the first time in months, untroubled deep sleep embraced them, Father's big hands even now touching his wife's arm.

Jorya smiled, happy for her parents, happy for herself.  They were together once again.

It was comforting; after months of worrying about the two of them, to see both of her parents together, peaceably resting was a salve to Jorya.  Idly, she keyed her parent's door closed and, taking one last check on the navicom, she took a final look at the hyperspace tunnel swirling before the entire transparasteel canopy.  

It also reminded her of her own exhaustion.

Walking into her own fairly spacious quarters (relatively speaking; they were still more cramped than her actual bedroom on Sekot), she kicked off her boots, shrugged out of her tunics, and skirts.  So tired was she that Jorya didn't even bother to remove her arm wraps.  Instead, she crawled into bed, her long orange legs stretching out atop the covers.  

She was asleep in moments...

          <<<<< >>>>>



Walking along black corridors, Jorya nervously glanced from side to side, her boots echoing throughout the hallways.  The walls appeared to be the large, dark granite rock of the Templar's Archives, except... Jorya squinted, unsure if even her superior eyes were registering what she was actually seeing.

Except that the rocks looked like daemonic faces, twisted, perverted while screaming in agony, stalactite fangs growing larger, sharper, unseeing eyes staring accusingly at her.

Before she knew what was happening, she was running.  She knew not where or from whom, only that--somehow!--she must escape...

But as fast as she was, the faces were always just a breath behind her, stone fingers with claws of quartz swiping through the air just where her head had been a second before.  ...Run...! She thought, panic welling inside her, causing her legs to pump that much harder.

Jorya was in peak physical shape, thanks to her parents' training, as well as her own initiative.  And like Father had said, she would potentially be as strong as Mother in the For--

She stumbled, aware that to do so and stop meant death.  Quickly she resumed her running, peaking from the corner of her eye behind her.

Dead, black faces of rending andesite teeth were almost upon her.

...Yet she couldn't help but think of Father.  Of his new, stronger connection in the Force, his own strength now even greater than Joryas...when months before she'd overshadowed him.  She needed that power, needed to be stronger.  For the Vhal'Dan.  For her parents.  For herself.

For right now.

...You can be stronger...

Jorya almost stopped, unsure if she'd heard the whisper that registered in her mind, if not her montrals.

...You can be stronger...

She heard it again, slightly louder this time.

...You can be stronger...

This time there was no denying it; she had heard a voice.

...You can be stronger...

It seemed to ring out from above her, below her, around her, the dark rock shaking.

...You can be stronger...

Looking back, she slowed.  The rock-like terrors were retreating, centimeter by centimeter.  Nodding, Jorya suddenly understood.  "Then let me be stronger!" She yelled.  Instinct overtook conscious decision, all rational thought burned away in the tempest of Jorya emotions, fear turning to fury.  Hands uplifted, she felt the raw power of her desire fill her.  

Powerful, blue-violet bolts of pure Lightning arced from between her fingers, from between her eyes, and rose from her body.  She would be the daughter that Father and Mother deserved, one that was strong like them.  Her face calm but intense righteousness raging within, she gestured to the retreating stone faces, their formerly frightening faces now frightened themselves.  Huge arcs of Lightning surrounded her, inundated her, caressed her.

She was power incarnate.

She didn't even have to do anything, merely release the gathered energy within.

Lightning bolts forked through the air, bloated arcs burning the very atmosphere it pierced, striking the faces, all of them disappearing while the afterimages of each face seemed to float for a moment before finally fading away for good.

...And so we are agreed...

Even though a whisper, the voice in Jorya's head echoed violently, causing her to grab at each side of her montrals.  Her teeth were gritting so hard that she feared that she would shatter her teeth.  "What?  What does that mean?" She looked around, a new brand of panic growing from within.  "Who are you?  What do you want?  ANSWER ME, DAMMIT!" She yelled.

...you...

The single word was almost below even her superior hearing threshold, yet she broke out in a cold sweat.  "...Wha..." She barely had time to sputter before she noticed her once-gray tunics began to turn darker, the tint of the fabrics adopting a muted hue, at least at first.

But then, a more vibrant color began to emerge.

Jorya stood there, mouth agape.  She now wore the black-and-red of a Sith acolyte.  "...no..." She heard herself whimper.  "...no..." But even as she attempted her denials, she knew it rang of the hollow sounds of helplessness.  "...no..."

...You wanted...craved...demanded!...for the power...this is the price...

The voice whispered in her head, growing certainty accompanying her terror.

...Just ask your Father...

Laughter, cruel and sardonic laughter erupted from everywhere, an indictment of her own convictions.  But worse, was the feeling that this was far, far from over...

          <<<<< >>>>>

Jorya's eyes exploded open, utter dread filling her.  After a moment, she relaxed, growing awareness granting her some small comfort.  She was in her bunk, in her quarters, in Fenris' Dirge, Father and Mother sleeping next door.  She noticed that her blanket was a tangled, soaked mess, sweat dripping from her forehead despite the climate controls set at a comfortable 22 degrees celsius.

Taking several calming breaths, she finally felt the last vestiges of her nightmare disappear.

Convincing herself that it had been nothing more than that, she snuggled into her pillows, finally closing her eyes before sleep--this time gentle and untroubled--took her.

However, if she'd looked at her reflection before doing so, she would've seen that her eyes had changed from her normal sapphire blue to one displaying shades of another color, one even now fading but nevertheless once there...

...The yellow eyes of a Sith.
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
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Force Alignment: 428
Posts: 1903



« Reply #66 on: July 01, 2022, 07:41:51 AM »

That was AWESOME! The dream that was not a dream!

The of half of the chapter nicely summarized 'clean up', the growing alliance between Templar and Vhal'Dan is a positive...but a few reminders that all is still far from well with Zearic are still troubling...and he still has yet to tell his family the truth of what has happened to him.

but the Jorya scene!.  It's telling that the vicious stone faces and the relentless dread she is running from is NOT the most terrifying aspect, its Jorya herself, empowered beyond her dreams, in service to her parents, yet at what cost...the almost taunting reference to her father is very apt, the love of family and the need to protect them from myriad threats seems to be both the Vih'Torr's family most notable feature and most dangerous flaw.

One can't help but wonder who is offering the power to her, or if it is indeed just one person, there are many roads to such power, the Dark Side is one, but Zearic and the late Mendax benefited from something more 'visceral' (yet equally costly), Karmack from the Crystals of Xandir...

But then given it is a dream one must remember much of it is likely symbolism and allegory, Jorya's mind could be interpreting any kind of fall as being of the Sith as the most accessible symbol of darkness to her mind. And perhaps the Voice is her own...

Regardless a really brilliant sequence full of mystery and anticipation, a fitting follow on from D'Alyanna's own vision, one wonders if Zearic will make up the full set, though perhaps he has already had his share of nightmares over the years!     
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
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Force Alignment: 1106
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« Reply #67 on: July 06, 2022, 11:41:08 PM »


Epilogue, part I

After the latest debrief, a tired Zearic hoped he was finally done talking with the endless stream of officials.  Briefly he paused and smiled, appreciating the irony given that his next appointment was at the Kage's apartments.  He needed to speak with Oyuna, privately this time.  However, with the Government Residences just in sight, he paused when he heard his name.

"Knight Vih'Torr?  The Triarch would like to speak to you.  If you'd please follow me?" Came the respectful voice of one of the younger Gray Knights currently in training to petition for entry into the Cataphracts, his eyes looking somewhat awestruck.  Zearic patiently smiled.

Word of what had happened at M'Tzigon and Taris had proceeded his arrival back on Sekot and in the week following had only spread more.  And that week had been exceedingly busy.

From debriefings in front of the Kage, then the Council of Balance, and then each Speaker (except D'Aylanna, of course), he'd spent almost the entire time talking about what had happened.  Coupled with the fact that the same had happened to his wife and daughter, they'd not seen much of each other at all during the interim.  They'd all been occupied with first the appearance of almost 250 Mandalorians making planetfall, then with the Templar/Vhal'Dan Alliance, then everything to do with the Revenant War...there just were not enough hours in the day, each of the 26 hours taken up by something with barely enough time for sleep.

Which meant that he'd been unable to tell them everything.

...That stops tonight... He promised, knowing that they would finally be able to gather as a family for the first time since landing on Sekot.  But first... "Thank you.  Please lead the way." He said before taking out his comm and, speaking briefly, left a message for the Kage.  He figured that she wouldn't mind, especially given the informal nature of the meeting.  That done, he focused on the task at hand.  Zearic figured that he'd meet Alcyorr in the Cataphract's Barracks for whatever this was.

Formally they were known as the "Cataphract Special Warfare & Defense Center" but was almost always referred to by its unofficial name: "Alcyorr's Den" or just "The Den," a holdover from the days of the great Triarch Nurhl Båz Rhadde.

However, after a minute Zearic knew that he was not headed that way.  Instead the Gray Knight took him to one of the multiple bounce tubes interlacing the entire Vhal'Dan Planetary Forces Installation.  Odd that, he was forced to admit.  Still, it piqued his interest.  After walking at least a kilometer and a half through multiple structures, bounce tubes, and hyperloops, Zearic finally recognized where he was being led.

It was the Triarch's personal quarters.

Located deep in the heart of the base, Alcyorr Kål Rhadde's apartments were situated in a highly tactical spot, close to one of Sekot's secret spaceports while also allowing him unparalleled access to the Vhal'Dan Order's vast datastorage archives.  Additionally, he had access to his own personal starship (located directly below his own building) as well as one of the heavy ground-based shield generators.

...Rank hath its privileges... He thought, something that he himself would probably never experience; D'Aylanna was the politician and was far, far better at people than he ever was.  Still: if this was as good as it got, he was a happy man given his family and place amongst the Vhal'Dan.  

But he had to admit: it was a very nice area to live in.

Soon enough, Zearic was standing in front of a tall, wide durasteel door, nodding to the young Gray Knight before turning his attention back to the present.  Chiming the door, he waited.

But not long.

After only a few seconds, the door silently slid open.  Normally, he would've been able to see what was in the room but the Cataphract Triarch almost took up the entire doorway.  Zearic was used to usually being the largest person in the room but he was dwarfed by the Cathar standing before him.

"Ah, Zearic.  Please come in." Alcyorr's deep bass voice seemed to shake even the durasteel deck.  Nodding, he entered the spacious and surprisingly serene apartments, following the Triarch as he led Zearic towards what turned out to be a shaded atrium.  He noticed that the aircouches were oversized (probably since all Cataphracts were larger than average beings).  Politely refusing a drink, Zearic patiently waited while Alcyorr offered food and refreshment between pleasantries, finally arriving at the point a few moments later.

The Triarch sat back, deliberately settling into his large aircouch before taking a few moments to scrutinize Zearic.  The sun shone at an oblique angle behind the Cathar, bathing him in an aura that cast shadows across his large brow, his eyes shining like twin beacons.  For his part, the wide human stared back, his face impassive and composed.

"I've been going over your After Action Reports." Alcyorr's pale blue eyes looked as if he were staring straight through Zearic.  He fingered a glass full of some dark, exotic liquor with a huge, clawed finger while he spoke.  "I have but one question to ask: would you have made the same deal that you did with Cha knowing what you do now?"

Zearic did not so much as hesitate.  "Yes."  He thought of D'Aylanna; the rest was easy...even if it meant that his short time as a Cataphract was over.  But for his family?  He'd do anything.

For a long moment, the enormous white Cathar stared at him, his lionlike face almost unreadable.  Zearic could see why this man was held in such high esteem and fear.  Then he gave an almost imperceptible nod and continued.  "You are no longer Tertius of Triad Senth.  I am assigning you to Triad Isk."  That was one of the coveted recon/surveillance-patrol Triads.  "As Secundus."  

Zearic controlled his surprise.  He'd expected perhaps expulsion or to be relegated to one of the "green" Triads, that is, the knights that were no longer Cataphracts, but rather were little more than baby sitters for training newly-inducted members.  However, he simply stated, "Understood, Triarch."

Alcyorr's mouth seemed to turn up at the corners, his eyes shining.  Whatever he saw in Zearic's face, the Triarch seemed satisfied.  "Your Primus is Maenowan Olynya Ve'Reen.  She along with your Tertius, Koawan Sio Harwic, will instruct you on your next assignment."  Standing, he looked the wide human over again, extending a massive paw.  "Congratulations Vih'Torr.  I trust that you'll bring that same conviction to the Cataphracts."  Unsurprisingly his incredible grip was a quadranium vise.

But Zearic gave as good as he got, although his hand turned white from the exertion.  He could swear the Cathar gave him an almost imperceptible smile.  "Thank you, Triarch.  I won't let you down." Was all that he said.  However, he noticed that when Alcyorr had withdrawn his paw, he'd left Zearic a device in his hand.

"I know you won't." He nodded.  Briefly glancing down, Zearic spied what it was he'd been given.  It was a Cataphract Secundus' insignia, to be worn on the chest of his armored cuirass.

In laymen's terms: he'd been promoted.  At least as far as the Cataphracts were concerned; the Arbiter had made Zearic's censure official as well as his demotion from maenowan.  Such was the price of his decisions to learn from Nimman Cha all that he could.

"Take what you want and pay for it." His father Kazic had told him.  "Just be prepared to pay the price."  Zearic shook his head.  No one could argue that he'd paid for his choices.  And if Oyuna tried to intervene on his behalf...well, he would "respectfully decline" her assistance.  He knew what he'd done as well as the ramifications for such.  

Besides, he wanted to be able to look his wife and daughter in their eyes and with pride.  He'd decided back at the Archives to accept his punishment, regardless of Listian's personal antagonism.  Zearic's eyes tightened.  He knew that he'd have to deal with the Arbiter again in the future.  But for now, he'd be the best version of himself, a man that D'Aylanna and Jorya would be proud of.

Thanking the Triarch again, Zearic left.  He considered heading to the Kage's apartments but shook his head instead.  He had a strong and sudden compulsion to be with his family, a need that had been deferred for months.  ...Oyuna's not going anywhere... He confidently assured himself.

Thinking of his family, he pinged both his wife and daughter, asking them to meet them at their shared apartments.  He would tell them, tell them everything.  Tonight.

Grasping the Secudus' insignia tightly between his fingers, Zearic felt a renewed sense of hope in addition to his relief with getting D'Aylanna and Jorya back.  Walking briskly towards the Residential District, he gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker for everything that had happened.

He would tell them.  Everything.

          <<<<< >>>>>



Oyuna Chand'n, Kage to the Vhal'Dan Order, attempted to stretch her knotted neck, hopeful to relieve overtaxed muscles as she went over the minutiae of the Alliance for what she felt was the tenth time.  She had to admit that Listian and D'Aylanna had done well, very well, at securing a lasting bond between the Order and the Templars.  The problem was the logistics: what would be given primacy, whom would assume situational authority where and at what time, how would the division of personnel, materiel, and supplies be distributed--

She closed her eyes.

Drawing a slow breath in, she enveloped herself utilizing a Serenity Technique.  It helped, alleviating the worst of her tension.  Making a deliberate decision, she pushed the datanode aside; she'd deal with it later.  Besides, Zearic was due any minute now for their appointment...

She'd kept abreast of the situation, including his demotion.  Her lips tightened; she had to admit that Listian's verdict was valid--by the Maker even Zearic admitted as much!--but felt that there was more to the wide man's motives than just what he'd told them.  Even now, she knew that he'd held some information back.  Still, she trusted that he would rectify that during the same appointment that she now was waiting for...

That was the problem with being Kage: there was always someone wanting something.  Oyuna's orange eyes rested upon the lone holopic that decorated her large desk.  It had been taken over twenty years ago, back before she'd been elected Kage.  It was a snapshot in time: just her and her wife, Belynn hiking through the Cylid'nian Mountains for their tenth anniversary.  Her sudden smile was bittersweet; in all of her time as Kage, Belynn had been patient, sharing her with the members of the Order that she loved so dearly, even on days like today.

Their anniversary.

She quietly chuckled.  Oyuna knew that the Maker had to have a sense of humor given the comedy of errors that was life.  But somedays it seemed to the Kage that that said comedy was increasingly dark.  That was when she heard the chiming coming from her comm.

Grabbing the device, she noticed that she'd received a message.  Of course it was from Zearic.  As her eyes scanned the text, Oyuna couldn't help but feel a little relief that he wouldn't be able to make it tonight, could he please come tomorrow, etc, etc.  Amused, she decided that she would instead draw a long, hot water bath and wait for Belynn.  Admittedly, she'd been neglecting her wife lately; there just seemed to be more obligations than hours in a day...

Well, she'd make it up to Belynn.  Stepping into her large bedroom, Oyuna removed her boots and disrobed.  As she took off her tunics, she idly looked up at the ceiling, pausing in her smallclothes.  She didn't recall having opened the skylight...

While she considered that perhaps her wife had just forgotten to close it, she suddenly stiffened as she felt the hot, stabbing sensation as a thin stiletto vibroblade went between her upper ribs.  Grabbing at it with both of her light blue hands, she felt clumsy, confused, and frustrated as her fingers sloughed off the vibroblade handle, a disembodied dark hand seemingly appearing from thin air.

Desperately, she grabbed for the Force.  But try as she might, she found herself unable to touch it; it was as if an impenetrable wall of transparasteel separated her from the Force.  She could see it, sense it, but could not use it...

Pain, weakness, and dizziness hit her hard, her fingers attempting to pull at the now-visible arm holding the stiletto numbly sliding over the synthcloth covering the arm.  Sinking to her knees, Oyuna tried to focus.  She could now see that what she assumed was an arm floating in the middle of her room in fact belonged to a tiny woman garbed in a skintight jumpsuit, her dark face and midnight blue hair now visible as well.  Thinking that she looked familiar, Oyuna had the most difficult time pulling on that elusive thread...

Then she looked at the woman's eyes.

The small woman stared at her from abyssal depths that held absolutely no emotion whatsoever.  The Kage had seen killers before--sociopaths, murderers, psychopaths, and despots--without blinking an eye.

This woman frightened her.

"I did not expect that only you would be here." Oyuna's ears registered a voice devoid of feeling, incongruously high and almost sweet.  "No matter; it is better that his death be a private affair.  As is proper." The woman said as if making a pronouncement.  Although when next she spoke, her tone had an undercurrent of anticipation.  "Besides there's always a 'next time.'"  Oyuna's vision blurred, dark clouds beginning to encroach upon the edges.  Yet despite that, she saw the face of the woman in crystal-clear detail when she turned her dark eyes back to her.  "...Well, not for you..." And when she did smile, it did not reach her eyes.

Several tears streaked down the Kage's face, desperation sinking into the pit of her stomach as her awareness slowly shrank in upon itself.  She had to warn Zearic, she had to...to tell...someone...someth...what was she...whom...Belynn?...yes...her wife...

As Oyuna raggedly breathed her last, her final thoughts were on Belynn...her beautiful wife...and how she'd miss their anniversary...

          <<<<< >>>>>

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

TheDutchman
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Force Alignment: 1106
Posts: 4131


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« Reply #68 on: July 06, 2022, 11:41:58 PM »


Epilogue, part II

"Ah, Jorya, I'm glad that you've arrived.  Please, sit." Zearic gestured to the vacant spot next to D'Aylanna on the aircouch.  Incredibly he both looked and felt calm, collected, and at peace.  As the Togruta sat next to her adoptive Mother, she smiled down at the much shorter woman, giving her adoptive Father her full attention.

Zearic looked from his wife to his daughter and back again, drinking in their faces and the love radiating from them both.  Not for the first time he thanked the Maker for his family, for his friends, for his life, and for the Vhal'Dan.  Like he said, they deserved the truth.

"Shakal, you know that you can tell me anything." D'Aylanna's soft voice caressed him, lending him her strength and love.

"Dad, you don't have to worry; Mother and I will never stop loving you." Jorya's voice--so full of youthful vim yet so wise!--emboldened him.  He no longer felt as if he would lose them if he told them; in fact, he would be lost if he didn't tell them...especially if something bad occurred as a result.

"I...thank you, Ereneda, Dear One.  I love you both so much..." Zearic inhaled, slow and deep.  He focused upon the faces of the two women in front of him, they who he loved more than life itself.  ...Please Maker, help keep them safe...even if it is from me... He prayed a silent litany, strangely no longer at odds about himself.  

He would see them safe, no matter what.

"After Geonosis, my injuries were getting to me, especially with the onset of Rejection Syndrome from my cybernetics.  Well, when you both left to help out Master Rakham and the Templars, I began having...doubts, my self-recriminations making me paranoid."  He reached behind him, drawing out the larger of the two Oblivion daggers he wore in the cross-carry sheath in the small of his back.  "Part of that was because of this, the Tenebris Pugione.  But another reason was because of a trail of bread crumbs that Jaim and I--yes, Dear One, your uncle--started following.  It led us first to search as many data repositories as we could access, until we ran into the proverbial brick wall." Zearic smiled wistfully at the memory.  Closing his eyes, he could see it as clear as day.  "We were in the Vhal’Dan Hall of Archives searching for..."*

*please read the submissions in: "Interlude-Conundrum:" http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=36209.msg642286#msg642286
& "What You Leave Behind:" http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38818.msg646417#msg646417
for all of the details  Smiley

          <<<<< >>>>>



It had been a long day, one that had further turned into a long evening.  By the time Father had finished telling her and Mother everything leading up to his arrival at the Templar Archives, they'd all felt as if they'd gone through the emotional wringer.  There had been plenty of horrors, surprises, and outright shocks.  But amidst their collective tears--crying together as a family--they persevered through all of it.

By the time Dad had finished speaking, she and Mother had gone to either side, hugging him as tightly as they could (although amusingly even then their arms barely reached around Father's broad chest and shoulders).  They'd held each other for some time, saying nothing; instead they wrapped themselves together in the Force both giving and receiving comfort and support.

It was as beautiful as it was cathartic.

By the time they'd released each other from their embrace, it was well after midnight local time.

Exhausted but content, Jorya left her parents' apartments, forgetting her robes.  As she lived in the Bachelorette's Quarters (lodgings commensurate with her rank as a full koawan), she had to take one of the hyperloops to get there.  All the while during her trip, she allowed herself to meditate on nothing in particular: a single drop of rain falling in the nearby Myrkviðr Forest, a blade of grass in the Llaño Plains, the strata in a weathered igneous rock in the S'Kandyas Mountains.

By the time she arrived at her apartments, she was beyond tired.  She threw her tunics, skirts, and leggings to the floor, kicking off her boots before she approached the comfortable bed in the middle of a modestly-sized bedroom.  Again, she didn't bother with her arm-wraps, snuggling deep into the blankets and pillows.  Before she knew it, she was fast asleep...

...And once again found herself in the middle of a shadowed, rocky canyon, the stone faces frozen in silent screams.

Why?  Why was she dreaming this again?

That's when it hit her, really hit her: she was completely lucid within the drea--the nightmare she corrected herself.

"Why am I here?!" She shouted. "What is this about?!  What do you want?!" Jorya's voice echoed throughout the canyon walls, the rocks appearing to move as if they were attempting to cover their own ears.  "WHAT DO YOU WANT, DAMMIT!?!" She demanded, not expecting an answer.

...Only--to her eternal horror--to receive one.

"You." Came a soft, almost dulcet voice from behind her.  A voice that she knew all too well.  Jorya broke out in a cold sweat, her body shivering uncontrollably.  Gritting her teeth hard to keep them from chattering, she steeled herself and turned.  The voice belonged to the past, to someone whom she had thought she would never see again.  Whose very face and voice inspired dread in Jorya beyond measure, a voice that she'd often heard when she'd been tortured again and again.  Involuntarily, her hand grabbed at her cybernetic lekku, the one excised when she was held prisoner at Kuat, courtesy of the Inquisitorious...

Standing before her was a tall, Ferroan woman whose severe face did little to distort her beauty.  She'd been apprenticed to this woman more than fifteen years ago, only learning later that she had killed her parents, absconding with her to Kewda.  It was only a few years later that Jorya learned who she really was, a terrible and accidental discovery that had led to her imprisonment at Kuat.  All of this passed through her mind in an instant, the history of her violent experiences burned forever in her memories, as well as the evil woman whom had frightened Jorya beyond measure.  It was only because of Father and Mother that she'd been able to survive, to recover, to live.  But seeing her here in front of Jorya brought up feelings that the young woman had thought long forgotten.  Standing in front of her, bedecked in her black armor, robes, and lightsaber, was the High Inquisitor--and later Sith Lord--herself:

Darth Mendax, Gaetana Ravine.

Despite her staggering--almost debilitating--fear, Jorya bravely stepped towards the tall woman, anger fixed upon her face.  She hoped to hide the horror that she now felt, remembering what Father had told her long ago: that courage was not the absence of fear but rather the ability to take action despite it.  She stood her full height, looking the slightly taller Ferroan woman almost directly in her golden eyes.  "What are you doing here?  Father told me that Master Karmack killed you." Jorya made herself smile.  "It's too bad that my Mother hadn't been there; I'm sure she would've schooled you again, like she did on Geonosis."

But if her taunting had any impact, Gaetana's face never changed.  Wearing a small, confident smile upon her light blue lips, she finally spoke.  "Oh my foolish, young acolyte.  Once again I must correct you, show you the error of your thinking."  She moved the first two fingers of her hand in a show of theatricality.  Immediately, Jorya found herself flying backwards until she hit the andesite stone wall behind her, causing her to bite her tongue, her arms splayed to either side and pinned to the wall.  Fighting down panic, Jorya did not struggle...not that she could anyway.  She was held fast against the rock.

"You see, acolyte, you damned yourself, tethering your mind to mine when you foolishly Delved the Dark Singer, Jennira Hri all those years ago1." Laughter, almost musical in tone flowed from her mouth.  Casually she walked towards Jorya.  "You see, Jennira was bonded to me, tethered by my mastery of Qâzoi Kyantuska2." Her long fingers reached out, stroking first Jorya's orange cheek and then her cybernetic lekku.  "Any mind that touches one controlled by Qâzoi Kyantuska becomes themselves infected."  She suddenly slapped Jorya, hard.  Tasting blood in her mouth, she made herself stare at Gaetana, fighting the growing panic from within.  "That was to get your attention because the next part is important."  The expression on her face hadn't changed at all.  "When that Mak'Tor bastard Karmack--" She spat, "--KILLED me3, I had only a fraction of a second to choose.  And seeing that you were doing so well with your training..." Her tone was one of biting sarcasm, "...I thought that I would use you for the Soul Transfer...BUT..."

Gaetana fell silent as a deep, yet kindly voice boomed from behind the Ferroan woman.  "...But, she was only partially successful, again thanks to the incredible energies released by the Mak'Tor Master Singer."  A tall figure shrouded in shadow stepped forth into the light, his hooded face no longer obstructed by the hood hanging from his head.  Jorya's terror doubled, tripled, as she looked upon the man's face.  She'd never met him, in fact she'd only had seen a few old-time picts of the man in Master Rakham's office in the Templar's Archives, but she recognized the face now staring at her, his white beard incongruous with his broad shoulders and deep chest.

Master Kadmaur.

"...how...?" Jorya's voice sounded infinitesimally small, especially compared to the other two.  Standing to either side of the trapped Togruta, Kadmaur and Gaetana looked at one another, their smiles deepening to grins.

"Again, I have you to thank for that, my acolyte." Gaetana laughed.  "When you, Rakham, and your Father--" She spat the last word, fury contorting her face, "--released your Mother from the Mind Trap, your Minds all touched.  Normally, nothing could happen; certainly nothing did for your Father--" Again, the rage in her tone threatened to overwhelm her but she calmed herself immediately afterwards, "--but for you and 'Master Rakham--'" Her voice now dripped with contempt, "--something did."  Theatrically she clapped, laughing delightfully.

Kadmaur's shoulders shook with his own amused laughter.  "Indeed." He stared deeply into Jorya's eyes.  "You see, as you and Rakham had both been infected by Qâzoi Kyantuska, it created a...a SAMENESS between you two.  At least, that's as best a description that your mind might understand." Seeing that Jorya was still confused, Kadmaur's tone became pedantic.  "Youth." He said disgustedly before continuing, "Both of you were infected with an imperfect mental shard as a result of the admittedly incomplete compatibility of Qâzoi Kyantuska and your own innate 'goodness...'" This time it sounded as if Kadmaur spat, "...but, with the close proximity of the two broken shards, they combined..." He motioned his hands up and down, pantomiming a scale.  "Well, Gaetana and I had a choice: do we fight against one other...or do we work together, to survive?"  He sounded contemplative.

"Of course, we had another choice to make, one that would be much, MUCH easier to decide." Gaetana went behind Kadmaur, wrapping her arms from around his back in a faux gesture of intimacy.  Her voice adopted a higher pitch as if to mock Jorya.  "'Who should we possess?' We asked each another." Her cruel eyes looked hungrily at Jorya.  "Three guesses on who we chose?"  They both then laughed, long and sadistically.

Finding a renewed sense of anger born of frustration, humiliation, and fear, Jorya shouted back.  "Frell you, frell you both!  I...I DENY you!  I will fight you!" She snarled.  "My Mother and Father will help me; together we'll send you both back to hell where you belong." Jorya hissed.

Again, if they were concerned, neither of the two acted like it.  "Ah, the vigor of youth!" Kadmaur instead exclaimed.  "I shall enjoy breaking you slowly..."

Gaetana gently cupped Jorya's face.  "Do not worry, my acolyte.  Kadmaur and I have already thought of that."  She pulled on Jorya's cybernetic lekku, hard.  "They'll never suspect...until it's too late.  And then your Mother and Father will know true pain."  A dangerous glint in Gaetana's eyes took the fury out of Jorya's spirit, replacing it with terror, despair, and sadness.  "Shall we begin?"

Immediately Jorya began to scream.

          <<<<< >>>>>



D'Aylanna's morning had been both early and busy.

The worst had happened: Belynn Chand'n had found the Kage dead in her apartments early this morning.  All recording devices had been completely wiped clean, not even the silent alarms had been tripped.

When she and her Shakal had been awakened with the sad news, they decided to split their efforts: he would talk to the Triarch while she would speak with the Arbiter.  Together they would meet at the Hall of Balance with the rest of the Speakers.  But before she'd left her own apartments, D'Aylanna had noticed that Jorya had left her robes at their place.  And since the Bachelorette's Quarters were on the way to the Hall of Balance, D'Aylanna figured she'd see her daughter and give her back her robes.

Now, standing in front of Jorya's door, D'Aylanna found herself growing concerned by the fact that she'd chimed the door three times now.  

She was about to use her Speaker's Override when the door opened.  Standing in the doorway, already immaculately dressed, Jorya looked down at her much shorter adoptive Mother, her right hand still in her pockets.  "Mom, what a surprise!  What are you doing here?"

D'Aylanna paused, feeling a...almost an "itch" (that wasn't quite right but it was the closest approximation to it).  "Dear One...are you well?" Her dark eyes stared piercingly into her daughter's blue.  For a second, Jorya didn't respond.

"It's just that it was a late night, Mother...and with everything that Father told us, I was...I am still concerned." She sighed.

Again, D'Aylanna thought she felt something...but reminded herself that it probably had to do with the Kage's murder.  "As long as you are OK, Dear One." She said, handing Jorya her robes.

Jorya smiled if awkwardly.  She grabbed her robes from D'Aylanna, her right hand still in her pocket.  "I'm telling you, I'm fine, Mother.  But I would like to talk to you and Father again, soon." Her hand absently stroked her cybernetic lekku.  "I feel like I have so much to tell you..." She patted D'Aylanna's shoulder, firmly if gently pushing her out of the foyer.  "But not now; I know you're busy.  We can talk later."  And with a note of finality she closed the door.

D'Aylanna paused.  She hadn't recalled when (or if) her daughter had ever been so...brusque.  But either as a result of her own recent trauma or Oyuna's death, she dismissed the feeling as nothing more than a consequence rising from the combination of the previous night's resolution and this morning's tragedy.  Her mind occupied, she left for the Hall.

But for Jorya, she found herself standing in the middle of foyer on unsteady legs.  Where was she?  She couldn't remember anything, anything at all since...last night?  Looking down, she was surprised to find her robes in her left hand.  Questions consumed her already confused mind.

...Hadn't she left that at her parents' apartments?  And why was she in the middle of her entryway?  She could've sworn that Mother was here...

Suddenly, she felt--really felt--what was in her right hand.  Withdrawing it from the pocket in her split skirts, she was shocked to see that she held in her hand her shoto.  Jorya's head swam.  When had she put that there?  For that matter why was it there?  And why was it that she couldn't remember a single detail concerning this morn...

Jorya's conscious thoughts came to a complete stop, her body suddenly relaxing while her eyes glazed over.  Moving mechanically, she draped her robes over one of the aircouches in the small atrium then, again moving as if by rote, clipped her shoto to the wide leather belt laying in the middle of the room.  Finally, she trudged into her bedroom, disrobed, and lay down on the bed...

Jorya's eyes exploded open, adrenaline pumping through her body.  Her eyes darted around the room in an attempt to gain her bearings.  After a moment she began to relax.  But considering the nightmares that she'd had last night, Jorya wasn't in the least bit surprised to find herself confused.

Rising, she went through her normal routine: refresher, sonic shower, sonic toothbrush, change of clean clothes, some fruit and protein bar before donning a utilitarian jumpsuit (she was scheduled to train some teidowans with basic Sho Chi katas this morning).  She was about to step out the door when she noticed her robes.

Jorya paused, a sliver of consternation and fear beginning to form in the pit of her stomach, as if something of immeasurable importance was lost.

Instead she shrugged, the answer coming to her almost immediately: Mother or Father must've stopped by sometime and dropped her robes off.  After all, she'd entrusted them both with her entry codes.  That must be it.

Without a backwards glance she left, contentment soon erasing whatever trepidations that she'd initially felt.  Leaving her quarters behind, she went forth to perform the day's obligations, the morning's peculiarities forgotten.

But, like before, had she checked her reflection she would've seen that her eyes had turned--however briefly--from her blue to the yellow eyes of a Sith.

The End
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
1:as seen WAAYYY back in "Shadow Etude, CH.7: http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=36277.msg594108#msg594108
2:as seen WAAYYY back in "Interlude-Sith Savior: http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=36209.msg595373#msg595373
3:as seen WAAYYY back in "What You Leave Behind, CH.25, part 4: http://www.saberforum.com/index.php?topic=38818.msg679451#msg679451
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 #69 on: July 08, 2022, 07:40:41 AM »

Wow, there is so much going on here it's hard to even know where to begin! A first breif mention of the great details of Sekot featured here, really makes it feel alive how places like "Myrkviðr Forest, a blade of grass in the Llaño Plains, the strata in a weathered igneous rock in the S'Kandyas Mountains." are just mentioned in passing, no need for further detail, it just makes it feel like we are truly in that galaxy far far away.

Alcyorr using the Cataphracts 'parallel' hierarchy to give Zearic a promotion after his demotion by Listian as the first step was interesting, tell more about the Cathar than Zearic of course in the question he asked him regarding the high price he paid for Cha's training. He better keep that Cataphract armour on cause someone is hell bent on killing him, and getting to the Kage, more than capable of doing so!.

And the Jorya...she was warned about her delving way back when the seemingly undying Mendax first was on the scene, and now the price is being paid in ways she never expected.  Host to both Mendax and Kadmaur, that is not a good place to be, and they seem more than able of using her as they please, effectiveyl resetting her memory inbetween moments of possession. Credit where it's due those two set their amibitons and selfishness aside to survive, can't really fault them for that in a sense. Jorya will need a lot of help exorcising those demons...but how can she get it when she doesn't always consciously recall the fact.

This was less an epligoue than a prologue to even grander narratives going forward!  What will become of the Vhal'Dan now thier Kage has been murdered in her own office, where will Zearics role with the cataphratcs lead him, and what of D'Alyanna's vision of a tide of death rushing to meet the nascent Templar/Vhal'Dan alliance.

If this story proved anything, it was the resilience and strength of family and friends united in common effort, D'Alyanna coming back was a great success, the Templar alliance a great step forward...and yet it all ends on grim notes. No matter how strong you are, there is always someone stronger, and there is always another Chapter.

Great work Dutch, a brilliant series laced with incredible details, gripping action and some very emotive moments!  Now when do we get to read what comes next!
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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