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Quifand

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  1. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 20: Vengeance “SO WE have an agreement.” Councilor Belos stated. He was an older man whose head was just entering the first stages of balding. “Good. The Empire thanks you for your… consideration.” Arctis could barely keep her smile back. It was so easy. So easy. “When will the funds be transferred?” Councilor Belos again, the man really did have a passion for money. “As soon as I can contact the Dark Council. You need not worry, Councilor.” The Darth let the smile through here, if only for a moment, to let herself gloat a little in victory. “Is this the right thing to do, Belos? Sell out for money like this?” That was Councilor Todo, one of the vocal opponents of joining the Empire. Belos, though it looked like a flicker of static, nodded outside of the visual, as though signaling a guard. A few moments later, Arctis heard a quick burst of blaster fire and Councilor Todo’s image flickered out. “I believe we are unanimous now. We await only your message to declare our new allegiance. I will see you then, Darth. Good day.” “Good day to you as well, Councilor. And do not worry. You will get your money.” “I hope so, Darth. I hope so.” The images flickered out. Darth Arctis giggled like a little girl. Corellia belonged to the Empire. The door in the side of the room clicked loudly. The lock had been disengaged. Moving over, she slipped through the door like a shadow into the small antechamber beyond. Her apprentice was gone, the soldier with her. Arctis was pleased with that. Vain had been nothing but a liability of late. Perhaps it was time to end her apprenticeship… Arctis stroked the thought, amusing the idea, playing with different scenarios for Vain’s death. For there was no other way a Sith apprenticeship ended but with death. “She’s long gone. Told me to tell you. Back at the place we rented out for your people.” The voice was behind her to her right shoulder. The Darth spun, snarling. The captain, Holmes, was there, a blaster in his hand, a pipe to his lips, laughing to himself at the Darth’s anger. “Hello Commander.” Hissed Arctis. The pipe fizzled out. Giving it a frown, Holmes pulled it out of his mouth and examined the end. It was bitterly cold to the touch. Arctis sneered with black humor. “Really?” The Commander asked, glaring at Arctis. “Be happy with the fact that that is all I am doing.” Threatened the Darth. “You seem awfully happy for someone whose negotiations just went badly.” “Ah, what makes you think that?” Holmes heart sunk. She had said that far too smugly. “What else would they have said?” The Darth simply smiled. “Oh, many things, Captain.” Holmes did not reply. The Sith moved cockily towards the exit elevator. “I win, Captain. I win.” The doors slammed shut behind her. Suddenly, Holmes felt a need to sit down. Blood rushed to his head and he felt… faint. The Sith hadn’t said it explicitly, but he knew. He knew. Corellia was lost. ---------- Light came rushing back in a rush of sensation. Michael took a heavy breath in surprise, feeling waves of pins and needles flooding through his body. But it still smelled like a wet bantha. A quite horrible smell. Still not fully aware, Michael peered through the screen of the kolto tank again, to be greeted indirectly by a familiar face. A very angry face. “Let my man out of there!” John Holmes yelled at the doctor in charge. Even though it was spoken at a yell, Michael could still only barely hear it through the thick glass of the kolto tank. The doctor, who was obviously under duress, was feebly arguing with Holmes, pointing at a set of papers and x-rays nearby, even picking one or two to show. Holmes quickly knocked the papers aside and pointed back at Michael. Attempting to refuse Holmes again, the doctor was slapped in the face. Michael chuckled from inside the tank. The commander had never had problems with corporal punishment. The doctor, still staggering, started yelling and gesturing at his nurses. They began running around the kolto tank, unplugging wires and inputting sequences. Michael felt the kolto begin to drain from around him, rendering the tank slowly empty. The gelatin-like feel fell away from his body, and nerves began to feel actual air. The tank emptied, the nurses opened it up and began attending to Michael, moving him to a nearby cot to recover. The commander strode over, pipe tucked firmly into his mouth, a scowl on his face. “You messed up, kid.” Of course those were his first words to him. “Sorry, sir.” “Don’t apologize. My fault for sending you in unprepared. But that’s in the past now. How’s your loyalty?” Michael looked up in confusion. “Sir?” Maybe the kolto was just dulling his thoughts, but that hadn’t sounded right. “Corellia? Or me? Answer quick, kid.” It had to be a trick question. “You, sir. You’ve had my respect since I joined the force.” “Good. Come with me.” The commander pulled Michael unsteadily to his feet. One of the nurses flinched, and moved to stop them, but Holmes’ withering glare stopped her. Supporting Michael with one of his arms, the pair limped out of the med bay and a distance more until Michael felt able to walk again. Still didn’t smell any better, but, he could walk. And that also meant his mind was working a little better. As they pulled out into Axial Park, just a block or so away from the med center Michael had been moved to after the explosion, Michael stopped by a bench, parking himself down in it. “Can we talk, sir?” Holmes, having not even noticed Michael sitting down, spun in alarm. After giving Michael a very suspicious look, he came over and sat down next to him. “What about?” Staring off into space, Michael took a minute before replying. “I’ll quit Cor-sec for you, sir, but I’d like a reason.” “Who said anything about quitting Cor-sec?” “Please.” Michael shook his head, the dulling effects of the kolto having finally worn off. “The question of my loyalty, your urgency coming down here, your breaking of the standard recovery time for officers. It was obvious. I know what, just not why.” Now it was Holmes’ turn to stare blankly into space. “She’s gone.” “Your wife?” The commander chuckled, “Na, my wife has been gone for years now.” He paused again before responding, “No… I mean Corellia. My child… I’ve tried to keep her safe my entire life. Now… I’ve failed her.” The sun was shining high in the sky. Axial Park sat before them, a sea of green in a forest of buildings. People laughed and played in the park. Taxis sped by; flickers of yellow across their vision. Billboards flashed advertisements. Doomsayers rambled about the Empire. Life went on. A tear ran down John Holmes’ cheek, briefly illuminated by the sun. A golden drop. “I failed.” “What do you mean?” “The Sith. They’ve negotiated a treaty. They’ve… bought Corellia.” “Impossible.” Now Michael felt himself choking up. It couldn’t be. The images seemed a joke now. A cruel ploy. Looking out, where he had just seen sunshine and people and life, his mind played out the truth. The Republic would never just let Corellia leave. The Empire would never just let the Republic take it back. War would break out. People screamed. Bombs went off. Craters appeared. The sea of green was consumed by dots of brown. Taxis littered the streets; flaming messes. Doomsayers led cults, their ideas proven true. The billboards flashed propaganda. Soldiers marched. Blood spilled. Corellia would never be the same. “I thought the same… once.” Holmes’ eyes were closed. “But sometimes credits can sway hearts more than loyalty ever could.” “Loyalty…” Michael repeated. He was loyal to Holmes. To Corellia. But it seemed ironic, almost. How easily he could betray Coran, but how much he praised himself for loyalty. The two just sat there a while more, watching one of Corellia’s last days. Like watching an old dog play with the children, knowing how soon his day will come. Seeing the clock ticking above his head. Seeing the time run out. “So what are we doing, sir?” “Depends. You ready to give up on Corellia?” “Hell no, sir. Hell no. Have a plan?” “You mean, ’Have a plan, sir.’” “Oh, yes, sorry, sir.” “Yes, I do.” There was an awkward silence as Michael turned to look at Holmes expectantly, waiting for the plan. “Sir?” He asked cautiously. “I already hacked the cams, watched the negotiations. It was that damned Councilor Belos who betrayed us. I figure we’ve got two routes. One; getting local support and overturning the decision, turning the people against the Council. Or two, tracking down the Sith and taking them out before they can report success to the Empire. “ “So, the first one?” “Course.” “Any idea how we’ll do that?” “Simple.” Holmes turned to look at Michael, “We get into the Council building, hack the cameras, just like I’ve already done, and copy the footage. Put it on the news, and watch Belos burn.” “So why didn’t you already do it, sir?” Holmes let a loud sigh out through his mouth. “Kid, in my day, we did a lot of slicing and hacking and all of that nonsense. I won’t say we were good, but we got by. Just enough to find proof. We always believed that getting people to talk was more effective.” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You didn’t know how, sir?” A laugh snuck through. Turning on Michael, Holmes was about to snap at him, but quickly gave up. “That’s right kid.” It was a very defeated tone of voice. “Don’t worry, sir.” Michael jested, “It’s okay to be old.” “Call me old again and I’ll shoot your privates out. With a slug thrower.” Michael gulped, “Understood, sir.” “Good. Now let’s get to work. My girl needs saving.” And with that, Michael mused, the images seemed to fade a little. The light shone through, and, if only just for a moment, he could see the people laughing and playing in the park, the sun shining down, the world at peace. But it was only for a moment.
  2. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 19: Reassigned “IS HE OKAY?” Xavier asked Lord Vain as she entered their room. Since the ship had been stolen, Cor-sec had requisitioned a room for their Sith guests to use. Vain had only just gotten back from the Council tower, where Darth Arctis was still in talks with the Corellians. The room was large enough for a party of twelve, which fit well for their smaller party of eight. The squad had already made themselves at home while waiting for the Sith to do their thing. Their job of escorting the Sith had been shot down after the incident with the ship. The Corellians weren’t quite sure what was going on, and it looked like they wanted all of their bases covered. So, the squad had went to the room, and prepared themselves as best they could. While they didn’t think it would actually be attacked, they had fortified the room with reinforced walls, mines, auto-turrets, and everything else, in a very Imperial style fashion. It could all be taken down in under an hour. Vain, who had just arrived with Ardun, found herself swarmed by the squad, who were worried for their captain. Vaughn, the medic, took Ardun from her and over to a cot at the side of the room to begin running tests. The rest of the squad, satisfied that their Captain was safe, turned on Vain. “So…” Xavier began, pulling a chair over and plopping down. “What the hell happened with the ship?” “Not sure.” Vain spoke, distracted, as she grabbed a seat. An image flashed before her eyes, the truth to her lie, bright blue eyes and an impossible foe. “You’re lying.” Jane snapped from her spot at the back of the group, to Xavier’s right. Anger flashed in Vain’s figure, veins showed and muscles tightened. And then they slowly loosened, in what was certainly defeat. “Yes. I am.” She looked up, passively, at Jane, “How’d you know?” “The Corellians found you trying to slice a hole in the blast door with your saber. Obviously you’d had some contact with the thieves beforehand.” “And here I thought it was something I’d said.” Chuckling, Vain closed her eyes; “I’m getting too paranoid for my own good.” “Paranoia is kinda required in your business. Occupational hazard, you could say.” Nicholas laughed from his spot by the door. He was, ironically, the image of paranoia, dressed in almost full armor and sitting behind a heavy turret, sights locked on the door, daring the Pubs to strike. “Yes,” Nodded Vain sagely, giving Nicholas an appraising eye, “Occupational hazard indeed.” The room was quiet for a few moments after that, an unspoken question in the air. Vain refused the break the silence, knowing full well she would have to answer these soldier’s questions eventually, and that they were going to ask her that question. The one people always seemed to come back to. Ardun had, the Correlian had, it seemed everyone but her master had noticed it. Xavier finally broke the silence. “Alright, Vain. We need to talk.” The soldier’s hands all went involuntarily to their weapons. Safeties were flipped, and holsters unbuttoned. They were ready for a fight. Vain almost laughed. The Sith really did have a knack for fear. Occupational hazard indeed. “Talk away.” She said, picking up her lightsaber and giving it to one of the soldiers, Alex, she thought his name was, in a gesture of peace. The soldier took it and moved a few steps away, and before Xavier started talking, Vain could have sworn she saw the soldier start to take it apart. “What happened at the academy?” Vain was taken aback. “Why would you ask that?” From the looks on the soldier’s faces, they had anticipated this response. “Gut feeling.” Xavier lied blatantly; thumb massaging the grip of his sidearm. “You’re lying.” “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re dodging the question.” “Any other question…” Muttered Vain, “Just tell me why, please?” The team turned to look at each other, nodding and shrugging back and forth. Jane in particular was shaking her head slightly, looking pointedly at Xavier. Xavier glared back and turned to Vain. “Alex told us about Ardun’s interest in those files. Figured since you were interested in him, those files were probably the problem. Wasn’t sure, but you just proved it.” Jane shook her head and walked away, an irritated twitch to her stride. Xavier watched her go, and then turned back to Vain, his eyes furrowed. “We’ll discuss this later, maybe when Ardun is back on his feet. For now,” Xavier gestured towards the back of the room. “Showers, coffee, and food back there.” Nodding thanks, Vain stood and moved to the back of the room. There were a thousand and one things going back and forth through her mind; Ardun, the blue-eyed foe, Arctis, the squad’s concern, the Academy, and more. But none of it stuck, one thought kept floating to the top. One word. Shower. ---------- Xavier didn’t like being in charge. He really didn’t like it. Too much power, too many decisions that had to be made, too much weight on his shoulders. And then there was just dealing with the squad. People were a pain to deal with. Especially women. Especially Jane. It had been his idea to confront Vain about the Academy files. It had been his idea to admit to her their source. And everyone had agreed. Except Jane. And now he was going to have to deal with the fallout from that. She had walked off rather unhappily, and, even though Xavier knew he should just let her steam, he felt like he needed to talk to her about it. Not what he was supposed to do when he was in charge, he knew, but still, it needed to be done. Jane was back by her cot, weapon in her lap, cleaning it. Oil and grease was already slick on her fingertips, as she muttered frantically to herself, hands moving up and down the gun easily. He heard only snips and snatches of what she was saying, but it seemed to be something about ‘men’. Alex was on the cot across from Jane, curiously dissecting the lightsaber. He looked up as Xavier came over, and sat up hurriedly, collecting the dismantled pieces. “Words I should not hear.” He spoke softly as he shuffled past Xavier. “Not fun.” Shaking his head, Xavier sighed at Alex’s comment. Sometimes the man didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. It was forgivable, given his conditions. But still annoying. “Why are you here, sir? Shouldn’t you be talking to the Sith?” Jane asked. The tone was incredibly bitter. Not surprising. Women were bitter individuals. “You don’t agree with my approach?” “You’re in charge, sir.” Looking around to make sure no one was paying too much attention, Xavier turned to Jane and threw up his arms in annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to drop the sir?” “Yes… sir.” “Drop it, soldier.” “No, sir.” “Solider, I am in command…” “No, sir” “Soldier…” “Sir.” “Damn it, Jane, please.” “Alright.” She finally looked up from her gun. At first, Xavier thought that was because she had finally decided he was more important than the gun. And then he realized that she had just finished cleaning her weapon. He was still secondary. “Come on. We need to talk.” He looked up and around. “But not here, alright? I’ll meet you outside, on the roof.” “We’re not allowed up there.” Jane protested, brow furrowing as she watched Xavier stand and make for the door. “Five minutes.” He said, leaving the room, to Nicholas’ dismay, and leaving Jane without the last word.
  3. Quifand

    Forceblind

    Ah, I see what you meant now. You do have a point, my ideas for the end are, perhaps, not to scale quite yet. But I look at it this way... that with words, there are no limits to what you can do. Besides, if it does prove too difficult, I can study the works of other authors for reference, many of them may have thought of approaches that would work far better than my own. One of your characters, Haytham Kenway, has the exact same name as one of the primary antagonists in Assassin's Creed 3. It's odd because the two even have similar personalities and descriptions, to a point. Funny... guess it is a small world after all.
  4. Quifand

    Forceblind

    Haha, thanks. I have been told I'm an interesting person. Though whether the people I'm talking to are serious or just commenting on my bright orange shoes I have yet to tell. Here's hoping its the former. As for the story... I'm hoping to finish it in its entirity, and that could take a while. How far am I planning to take it? Hmm... well, though I'm not sure on what details you're looking for, let me say this. So far I'm only about a fourth of the way done with what I hope will be the final project. Maybe even a third of the way done, depending on certain elements. So, plan on this being a rather long endeavour. At the current rate I'm pumping stuff out, it should conclude towards the middle of summer to the start of fall. But that's tenative, don't quote me on that. Hope that answered your question. If you still can't decide between the two, flip a coin. Always works for me By the way, thought I'd mention; I like the way your fic is going. The allusion to Assassin's Creed 3 made me chuckle, and I'm liking that paticular character even more than the one in the game. Nice writing.
  5. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 18: Eyes Wide Open NATALYA WOKE with a splitting headache and the taste of blood in her mouth. Her body was leaden with exhaustion. But, strangely, she was not cold. If anything, she was warm. Really warm. Picking herself up, she examined her surroundings. She was in a small cave, lit only from the glow of the crystals around her. But these crystals were not grey and dark like the ones before. These were bright pastels, extraordinary colors. Reds, blues, greens, purples, whites, browns, the room was illuminated by thousands of different shades of thousands of different colors. Natalya was on a thick woolen blanket, spread out like a bed on the ground. A similar setup was on the other side of the room. “Hmm…” Natalya muttered, eyes focused on the second setup. There was another person here, there had to be. Why else would there be a second bed? Pulling her body to its feet, Natalya stumbled slightly. Her legs still felt weak, and her head swam slightly as she wavered back and forth; a swaying body. “Careful there, your body hasn’t fully recovered.” A voice said from behind Natalya. Natalya screamed in response. Sprinting across the floor, she spun around and tried to send a wave of Force energy at the intruder, who was dressed in a plain brown robe, the hood up. But she couldn’t, the Force refused to listen to her. “Work!” She shouted hysterically at her hand, feeling tears coming down her face. She was going to die; this man was going to kill her. “What are you doing?” The man asked, not at all disturbed by the recent turn of events. “Shut up!” Natalya shouted, pushing her hands out towards the man, a vain attempt to use the Force once more. “Calm down.” The man spoke, quietly, softly. He began taking steps towards Natalya. “I’m not here to hurt you. I saved your life, don’t you remember?” Natalya scrambled away from the man until she was pinned in one of the corners, nowhere to run. “Oh, by the Force, you’re persistent, aren’t you? I’m here to help you, blasted woman.” The man groaned, putting his hands on his hips in exasperation. “Is this how you treat people who try to help you?” “Just leave me alone!” Shouted Natalya, shoving her head inside her robe, hoping it would all just go away. “Okay.” The man replied, putting his hands up in defeat. He turned around and went back to the twin beds. Pulling some tools out of his robe, he went about making a fire. Despite herself, Natalya watched him curiously. She’d never met anyone outside of the Master’s Order before. She was scared as hell, but there was a morbid sense of curiosity there too. Eventually the man got a fire started. He sat on the opposite side of it from Natalya, so he could keep an eye on her, and to leave a spot open if she wanted to join him. He took off his hood, and Natalya finally got a good look at his face. He was old. He hadn’t sounded old, but he was. He was human, with receding black hair and wrinkles around his eyes and lips. He must have smiled a lot when he was younger. His eyes were a stark green, and he only had one ear. Though from her angle, Natalya couldn’t quite tell what had happened to the other ear, she was fairly certain that there was only one. She was so busy examining this man’s face, she didn’t notice the food he had been cooking until she smelt it. Stew. Her stomach roiled and groaned as she smelt the decadent flavor, and it was all she could do to keep herself still. After a few minutes of cooking, the man grabbed a bowl and served himself some of the food, pouring out the stew in a slow deliberate motion. Staring straight at Natalya, he licked his lips, slowly and steadily, before digging in. Natalya couldn’t take it. She stood up, and began to slowly walk over to the fire. On her way, she grabbed a particularly long icicle and held it before her in a threatening manner. The man cocked one long grayish black eyebrow at that. “Are you going to skewer me and cook me up? Is that it?” Ignoring him Natalya sat down next to the fire, enjoying the warmth, and pointed the icicle across the fire at the man. “Give me some of that.” She said slowly, trying to use her most threatening voice, like Goll always sounded when he talked. “Or I will kill you with this.” The man smiled broadly. “With what?” Natalya frowned at the man, “With this!” She shouted, brandishing her icicle. The weight seemed… less somehow. That was when she looked at her icicle. It had melted into a small stub. Perhaps putting the icicle over the fire hadn’t been the best idea. Natalya got back to her feet and began retreating slowly. The man rolled his eyes and quickly pulled out another bowl. Natalya stopped, her eyes on the bowl. Moving decisively, the man filled the bowl to the brim and pulled out a spoon. Reaching around the fire, he set both items right next to each other in Natalya’s spot. Then he resumed eating. Over the course of the next few minutes, Natalya moved slowly to the stew, before finally, after around eight minutes, she reached it. Abandoning her caution, she sat and dug into the stew. The man, having finished his stew, stopped to watch her eat. She was ravenous, and gulped down the soup like it was her only meal for weeks. With a minute of two, she was done. Eying her up, the man finally spoke, “Want some more?” he asked, keeping a cautious eye on her. Natalya nodded vigorously and handed him her bowl. He filled it back up and she gulped it right down. She had three helping before she was finally done. Setting the bowl on the ground, she looked across the fire and found the man staring at her. “Ready to talk?” The man asked, tired. Natalya looked away. She couldn’t answer this man, he could be dangerous! But then why would he have helped her, fed her, given her shelter? This argument went back and forth for several minutes inside Natalya’s head before she finally decided to speak. “Sure.” She said, deciding on brevity. “So, what’s your name?” “Natalya.” “Is that it?” “Yes…” Natalya wasn’t sure what he meant. “No family name?” “Family name?” The man stared at her, his expression that of complete confusion. “Never mind,” he spoke slowly, his expression never changing, “Let’s move on. I asked you a question, now it’s your turn.” Natalya hesitated; this was nothing like the compound. When you talked with the elders at the compound, they asked the questions and all you did was respond. There was no back and forth. But, strangely, she liked this new way. She liked the power it gave her. “What’s your name?” She asked, going for the obvious question, since she was not quite sure what she wanted to know about this man. “Darren Lewis.” He paused, letting his name sink in, before asking his question. “What are you doing on Illum?” “Um…” Natalya muttered. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to say to that. “Training exercise?” She had phrased it as a question, but Darren took it as an answer. “What are you doing here?” She snapped back, unable to think of a new question. “Study.” He replied, keeping his answer as short as hers, “Who sent you on the training exercise?” “My master. What are you studying?” “The Force, life, morality, it’s really more of an introspection on my life. Where is you master?” “I don’t know. You can use the Force?” Darren chuckled, “I’d hope so. Wouldn’t be much of a Jedi if I couldn’t use the Force. What about you? I saw you use the Force, but, just a minute ago, you seemed at a loss to even push me a few feet away, yet you nearly destroyed the cave I found you in.” “I don’t know what you’re asking.” Darren sighed. “Natalya, I just want to know the truth. If you keep hiding things from me, I’m not sure I can let you stay here.” “Then I’ll leave.” With that, Natalya stood and made for the exit. “You sure?” Darren asked, turning to face her. “Absolutely.” And Natalya left the small cave, leaving Darren alone. A thousand and one thoughts spun through his mind. Where was her coat, her gear, her weapons? Where was she going to stay, what was she doing out here? “You’re going to let her leave?” “Of course not.” Darren said, not disturbed by the bodiless voice. “But I should know what I’m getting into first.” “You didn’t with me.” Darren smiled, “No, no I didn’t. But I was younger then. And you were my love. She… she is a lost soul.” “So help her.” “I tried, didn’t you see? She wanted to leave.” “Yes, you weren’t pushy with your questions at all. Couldn't have been that that scared her off, could it have?” Sarcasm seemed to drip from thin air. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you?” “Of course.” “Fine, I’ll be back.” And, with that, Darren left the cave after Natalya.
  6. Quifand

    Forceblind

    I feel I must apologize. It's not a big thing, but I feel I should apologize nonetheless, more so for being stupid enough to make this paticular mistake in the first place. So I was surfing the forums the other day, and I came across a thread about the Dark Council. Naturally, I was interested, I have included one in my little fan-fic, Darth Arctis, and I wanted to see if she was there. She was, course, I did my research... fairly well. It links to a Wookiepedia reference, so I check it out. Sadly in SW:TOR's current timeline she's dead. Not a big deal, I mean, I was going to write her out soon enough anyway; too much of a stereotypical Sith by my count. I'm about to exit out of the webpage when one word pops out at me. "male" Whoops. Darth Arctis is a guy. My bad... So, as I said, not a big deal. I mean, explains why Arctis was always annoying to write, he was pissed I'd gotten his gender wrong. I don't blame him, I'd be annoyed too. So, anyway, not a big deal, but I felt I should apologize nonetheless. Sorry
  7. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 17: Hyperspace “HE’S AWAKE,” Alia shouted to Kaarn, who was busy trying to fix the damage their ship had suffered during their escape from Corellia. She left the rest of her statement, the resigned "again" out. “How long was I out?” Coran muttered, sliding out of the large bed Alia had put him in. Everything hurt. His lungs burned, his muscles ached. He’d felt as though he’d run a marathon and back. “Only a few hours.” Alia said, sitting Coran back down on the bed and picking up a med kit from the ground. “Now, hold still, I need to run some tests.” “I’m fine,” Coran protested weakly, trying to push Alia’s hands away. “They why can’t you even push me away?” “Tired?” Coran suggested, looking hopefully up at Alia. “Uh-uh, I’m running my tests. Not sit still or I’ll have to run them again. “ Giving in, Coran kept his body still as Alia ran several tests with the med kit, checking Coran’s physical health. A minute or so in, Kaarn showed up, covered in grease with a small manual in hand. “Doesn’t make sense…” He muttered, turning the manual upside down as if that would help him understand it. “What doesn’t?” Coran asked, getting a warning glare from Alia. “No talking either.” “C’mon!” “No talking!” Brooding, Coran shut him mouth. Kaarn, who was laughing hysterically in the corner of the room, decided to humor Coran. “It’s this ship manual. It used to be a new copy, with details and instructions on how to do all these minor fixes, but someone’s scrawled all over it. It was probably this ship’s engineer, which is good, because his notes will be more accurate, But….” Kaarn drifted off again, staring at the manual as if it would magically tell him the answer. “But what?” Alia asked, anticipating Coran’s question. Smiling thankfully, Coran sat, quietly. “But he wrote them in Huttese…” “You’re kidding me, right?” Alia asked, turning in disbelief to Kaarn. “Na, take a look.” Kaarn said, offering the manual to Alia. “No, no,” She protested, “I believe you.” She paused for a moment as she finished running the tests on Coran, frowned at the results, and then addressed Kaarn again. “Did you run it through the holo-net? Try to get a translation?” Kaarn was shaking his head before she even finished talking. “I did, but it has to be some odd dialect of Huttese. All the translations I got were gibberish. Nonsense about lights and greys and a giant web.” Coran looked up curiously when Kaarn said this, but quickly disregarded it. He still wasn’t sure his dream hadn’t been a hallucination. “Well,” Alia said, turning back to Coran, “This is weird.” “The results? Or the Huttese?” Coran asked, standing back up on shaky legs. “The results…” Trailed Alia, walking over to Kaarn and showing him the data pad. “Hmm…” Kaarn muttered, giving the data pad a concerned look. “You’re right. That is weird.” “Ahem!” Shouted Coran, trying to get some attention, “Do I get to hear what’s wrong with me?” “Nothing’s wrong.” Alia spoke, shaking her head. “The readings just don’t make any sense.” Handing the data pad to Coran, she grabbed a seat on the bed. The data pad, having recorded the test results from the med kit Alia had been using earlier, showed several graphs up on the screen. There were heart monitors, blood pressure, cholesterol levels, etc., anything a medical officer would need. It even showed a graph of recent physical strain put on the body, for use in accidents where the victim was unconscious. That was where Coran noticed the oddity. The med kit reported high levels of stress over the past two hours. When Coran had been out cold. Not just that, but it also reported an improbable amount of brain waves coming from Coran during that two hour period. There is a certain level of activity the brain cannot surpass, but the med kit was reporting incredibly, impossibly high readings. Almost as if there had been two people in Coran’s head. “… odd… “Coran said, stuttering lightly. “You’re an awful liar.” Alia s*****red, smiling at Coran. “You know why it’s reading that way, don’t you?” “It’s not important.” “Oh, lord,” Alia cried, rolling her eyes and throwing up her hands, “Must you refuse to let us help you every time we try?” “Maybe you should stop trying!” Looking back and forth between Coran and Alia, who were now staring each other down, Kaarn decided to leave them to it. “I’m going to go run some more translations…” He then rushed out of the room. “You know I’ll never stop trying, don’t you?” Asked Alia, running hands through tousled hair and sitting down, her exhaustion showing. “When was the last time you rested?” Coran asked, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes. “Not since before the heist… I was busy keeping an eye on you.” Smiling, Coran sat down on the bed with her, “You were worried.” “Oh don’t mock me. We were just angry at each other a second ago, and now you’re flirting with me?” Alia started laughing, “You really need to work on-“ “Alia…” Coran said, cutting her off. Turning to him, the smile fading from her face, Alia gave him an odd look. Almost a longing look. “Yea, what?” “Can we stop fighting for a second?” “We weren’t fighting.” “Alia…” “Alright.” The two sat there, in silence, the only sounds the faint rocking of the ship and the occasional clank from the engineering section. "Just tell me what's wrong." Coran asked of Alia, wanting a serious answer. “Why do you keep cutting us off?” Alia asked, quietly. She gave Coran a look of such sadness, he felt guilty looking away. “Because… at the end of the day… it’s just me.” It was the truth, at least to Coran. That was when Alia promptly punched Coran. “Don’t be an idiot.” She pulled out a small chrono from her pocket and started flipping through planets. Eventually she found one; Draethos, and showed the chrono to Coran. It read; 00:01 “The end of the day.” Alia said, putting her chrono away, “And guess what? I’m still here.” Coran couldn’t help but smile. “That doesn’t count.” “Then what does?” An echo, a memory, flickered through Coran’s head. To save her, you must abandon her. “I’m going to go help Kaarn.” Standing up, Coran made for the door. “What the hell? Don’t just blow me off!” Snapped Alia, moving after Coran. But he closed the door before she got through it. Snarling in frustration, Alia went back down to the bed. She could have just opened the door, easy as that, but, for some reason, that didn’t appeal to her. She was a little too frustrated with Coran to go talk to him. So she took her fury out on the pillow instead. The poor, poor pillow. ---------- Striding down the hall of the ship, towards the left side, where they had taken the most damage, Coran’s mind wandered. To save her, you must abandon her. He couldn’t get those words out of his head. They were a mind-numbing plague, a curse, a- To save her, you must abandon her. “Shut up…” He muttered mildly to himself as he finally reached his destination. Covered in a fine layer of dust, his hair greasy in spots, Kaarn turned to face Coran, a pair of large bug-eyed goggles on his face. “Oh, no!” Kaarn said quickly, backing into the wall. “Don’t bring me into this! Go back and deal with Alia!” “How’d you-?” Began Coran incredulously, giving his furry friend an odd look. “Why else would you be here?” Kaarn cut him off, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “It was either you two started making out on the bed or one of you showed up over here after a fight.” “We can’t be-“ Coran began, before he was again cut off. “Yes…” Kaarn said, putting his goggled head in his hands, “Yes, you guys are really that predictable.” “Got’cha.” Muttered Coran, turning back out the door from whence he came. “What are you doing?” Asked Kaarn, who was giving Coran an odd look, similar to the one Coran had given him a few moments ago. “Leaving…” Coran said slowly, wondering what Kaarn didn’t understand. “Why? Just because I complain about your problems doesn’t mean I won’t listen. Sit. Tell! We Bothans love a good gossip.” “And who are you going to gossip about this to?” Coran asked, grabbing a seat next to Kaarn. “Oh, no one,” Kaarn waved the point away, “It’s the idea behind it, really. So, spill, what’s up?” “You sure you want to know?” Kaarn gave him a look, “I’ll stab you with this.” He said seriously, holding up a hydrospanner. Smiling in spite of himself, Coran gave in. “Fine, fine…” He sighed lightly, “How do I begin?” “Well, start from the beginning. Don’t leave out anything, even stuff I already know. Ok?” “Ok then. If I remember right, it was a storm three years ago; and we’d just exfiltrated from one of the outlying banks in the area...” “Yea. You’re right. That’s when we first saw her. Alia.”
  8. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 16: Recoil MICHAEL WOKE to the blue atmosphere of a kolto tank. It felt awful. It was like being engulfed in gelatin that smelt like a wet bantha. Very unpleasant. But, at least he couldn’t feel the screeching pain from his injuries. Both legs had broken under the weight of the Trandoshan, Gurkgren. Burn marks pock marketing his body from the splash of the blaster volleys sent at Gurkgren. A blaster wound existed deep in his left arm from where a scared officer had missed. Finally, to add insult to injury, or, to be more exact, injury to insult, there were three deep scars crossing his face, leaving deep red canyons in the geography. Those, even with the numbing properties of the kolto, still hurt. Michael tried to look outside the glass, see what was going on. He saw people rushing about, nurses checking desperately the screens nearest to Michael. He heard the faint sound of an alarm? No, not an alarm. A warning? “Doctor!” He barely heard one of the nurses yell. ”His pulse is going too high! He’s going into shock!” Shaking his head, Michael tried to hit the glass, to try and tell them he was alright. All that the staff heard was frantic gurgling and bubbling. “Give him a sedative, and a more powerful one this time. He is going to need at least a week to recover.” A week? Michael thought dully, as the sedatives kicked in. But he couldn’t do that. He still had a job to finish. ---------- “This was inexcusable.” Darth Arctis spoke, staring out the topmost window of a small waiting chamber just before the Correllian Council’s place of meeting. The Commander, John Holmes, had gone inside to speak with the Council before letting the Darth in to make her speech. “I understand, master,” Vain spoke, quietly, as she kneeled over Vain, checking his pulse and the state of the, although minor, healing trance she’d put him under. As he was not Force-sensitive, the trance would act only as an accelerant for the body’s natural healing properties, nothing more. “You very well may have screwed up the most important task you have ever been assigned.” “What? Guard duty?” The sarcasm was more than evident. It was angry, bitter. The Darth spun on Vain, eyes blazing, and Vain could tell how close she was to snapping. “Thank your gods that we are surrounded by enemies, else I would cut you down for a statement like that.” Smiling to herself, Vain enjoyed her moment of power. “Don’t make threats, master, that you cannot keep.” “And you would do well not to make enemies you cannot handle.” The two women stood, facing one another, hands on their saber hilts, when Holmes came back through the door, smoking a large pipe. “Whoa there,” He said, hand going to his gun. “No fights, ladies. As much as I’d love to see you two spill each other’s guts, you’d leave a stain.” The two women, not appreciating the interruption, glared pointedly at Holmes. “Stay out of matters that do not concern you.” Arctis breathed, and Holmes could have sworn the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. “Master, don’t you have a job to do?” Vain spat angrily, turning back to the prone form of Ardun. “Do not dare tell me what to do!” Arctis snapped, her voice a roar. From peepholes in the ceiling and machinery in the lamps, several fully automatic machine guns whirred to life. No rounds were fired, but the implication was easy to interpret. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Holmes said, easily, arrogantly. “We’ve… prepared for your visit, you see. Now, if you don’t mind, the Council does not like to be kept waiting.” The Darth bared her teeth and passed by Holmes into the antechamber beyond him, whispering in his ear as she passed, “You will regret not treating me with respect.” “I’m sure I will.” Holmes muttered, closing the door behind Arctis, leaving her to her deliberations with the Correllian Council. Locking the door with a few brief clicks, Holmes then closed the secondary door, sealing the Sith in the room. Corellians weren’t stupid. None of the Council was actually in the building. The Sith was sealed in an airtight room bristling with weapons, with only a few holotrancievers so the Council could speak to her. Holmes still thought this was a bad idea. He knew the Council was just hoping to work this to their own benefit and had no intentions of actually joining the Empire… but…. It still didn’t sit well with Holmes. The men and woman on the Council were not superb human beings. They were corrupt, evil, and backstabbing. That was politics, you got used to it. But there was always that chance, however slim, that they might decide that the Empire could offer them more. That the grass was greener on the other side. That was what scared Holmes. A groan came from the other side of the room. Turning, Holmes saw the other Sith, the apprentice, kneeling over one of the soldiers, green vapor passing between them like a poisonous fog. The man, the soldier, it seemed, had just woken up. “Hey,” Holmes said, moving over to them, gun drawn, “Does he need a med center?” Holmes could care less about what happened to Sith and Jedi, they usually deserved what came from him, but that man… that man was a soldier, and he deserved respect for that. Soldiers were soldiers, no matter what side of the conflict. “No,” Vain said quietly, personality muted, “His injuries are mostly healed.” “You sure about that, Sithy?” Holmes asked, cautiously stepping back and aiming his pistol, just in case. “Put your pistol away, I’ve had enough fighting for one day.” She sounded tired, exhausted. Depressed. Slipping his pistol back in its holster, Holmes kneeled down on the other side of the soldier, looking curiously at the Sith. “A Sithy who doesn’t want to fight? Didn’t know they existed.” “You know,” Vain said, staring down at the soldier, Ardun, “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” “So,” Holmes asked, gesturing at Ardun, “What’s his story? Never heard of Sith healing their wounded.” “It’s a rare technique. Most Sith never learn it. Those who do never use it on anyone but themselves.” “Still doesn’t explain why you helped him.” “I… I’m not sure why I helped him.” “You sure? The way you’re looking at him, I could guess.” Head snapping up, Vain glared at Holmes. “That’s better,” Holmes said, smiling smugly, “Anger on a Sith is so much easier to deal with than remorse.” “Don’t change the subject. What did you mean, you could guess?” “Really?” Holmes gave a sharp bark of laughter. “I saw the security footage. That man stopped you from slaughtering my officers. And you didn’t kill him. He must mean a hell of a lot to you for you to forgive that.” “Do not assume!” Vain shouted, standing up. “He simply has information I require.” “Then why haven’t you tortured him?” “I don’t-“ “Know? Yea, you do know, you just don’t want to admit it.” “I don’t know what you mean.” “Yes you do.” Smiling broadly, Holmes sat down in one of the room’s lush chairs. “Not much of a Sith, are you?” “So you keep saying.” “Admit it. You have feeling for that man.” “His name is Ardun.” Holmes let out a loud chuckle. “Yea, because Sith always use their subordinate's names.” Sighing, Vain sat down across the room from Holmes, Ardun lying on the ground between them. “I don’t understand it. I barely even know him.” “Life’s funny like that.” “You know much about this?” “Had a wife. Had a kid. Yea, I know a bit.” Holmes looked down as he said this, breath catching in his throat. “Divorce?” “No.” Looking back up, Holmes met Vain’s eye. All she could see was depths of hatred. “They were killed. My wife, Cynthia, died in childbirth. Don’t even know how long ago anymore. Days just seem to blur together. I fell apart. My son left me, became a spacer. He came back to Corellia about thirty years ago. Then he was murdered. I never…” Holmes choked up a little bit. “I never said sorry.” “I’m sorry…” Vain said, quietly, looking back down at Ardun. “It seems the war has done that to a lot of people.” “Well.” Holmes said, the word almost a question, “What about you, what’s your story?” For a heartbeat, Vain felt a vein of anger. Her training on Korriban came back, and she felt a sudden impulse to kill Holmes. But she suppressed it. Holmes deserved an answer. “Don’t know where I came from. Don’t know who my parents were.” “Are,” Holmes corrected, grinning lightly at Vain, his aged face humored. Vain couldn’t smile back. “Hope won’t help.” “When you’ve lived as long as I have,” Holmes spoke, pulling back out his pipe and taking a whiff. “You’ll find that isn’t true. But, please, continue.” Nodding, Vain continued. “As I said, I don’t remember anything of my childhood. My first memories were the Academy. Blood… violence… anger… hate. That was all I knew. I had my first kill at six years old. He was a human. A nice boy. I liked him.” “They mean business, those Sith. That sounds like hell.” “It was…” Vain bowed her head lost in memories. There were many words to describe what she felt, but there was only one that truly described it; red. “I couldn’t take it… I tried to run away. And… I… I figured things out.” Vain stumbled over that phrase, as though she wasn’t sure what to say. Holmes had seen it before; she was lying. But, he decided not to call her on it. Getting a Sith to reveal this much was impressive, he didn’t want to push his luck. “What do you mean, figured things out?” “I learned… uh….” Vain was still hesitant, “Force techniques.” “Ok…” Holmes said, backing off. “Yea… it changed me. Hate didn’t come as easily, and, as you know, hate is crucial to the Sith.” “So I’ve heard.” “I managed to trick and deceive my way to the top of my class, and Arctis chose me as her apprentice. That’s how I ended up here.” “But that doesn’t explain that heart of gold you’ve got.” It was a question and a fact, all in one. Holmes’ detective brain was working, playing for time and trying to find fit pieces of the puzzle together. “I think,” Vain began, standing up from her chair. “I should take Ardun back to the rest of the squad. I have no wish to be here when Arctis returns.” She lifted Ardun up with a quick gesture and moved towards the elevator. “I’ll tell her,” Holmes said, following her to the elevator. “It was good talking with you. Nice to know there’s some good on the other side.” “But will that thought ever stay your hand? When the war truly breaks out?” Vain asked, and, in retrospect, Holmes realized that she was asking a very different question. Should I kill someone who’s good? “Yes.” Holmes said, putting a hand on Vain’s shoulder. Vain didn’t even flinch. She respected Holmes. “Because, when it comes down to it, sparing a life is always the right thing to do.” Simply nodding, Vain was about to respond when the elevator door shut between them, sending Vain down to the bottom floor. “Good luck, Sithy.” Holmes muttered, still staring at the doors. “Here’s to you.” And with that, Holmes took a puff of his pipe and sat down to wait for the Council to be done.
  9. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 15: Illum “WE’RE HERE,” Goll communicated, mentally, through the small hawk-like Mantis. Natalya, who was in the lower quarters, woke as the mental wave hit her. “Uck…” Natalya groaned, straightening up in her altogether uncomfortable bed. They’d been in transit for several days now. Goll hadn’t spoken, or thought, a word to her since they boarded. He had let Natalya in peace to think over what had happened before they had left. What had happened to Katie. How Natalya had killed her. She knew what Goll wanted her to feel. Release. Purification. Clean. Fresh. But she felt exactly the opposite. Her hands felt like there was a permanent stain on them. Every time she tried to sleep she could only see Katie’s figure, a perverted form, a twisted body hung in the air. She would wake back up and spend hours just sitting there. Worst of all, Natalya couldn’t touch the Force. Well, she could, but, again, not really. She could still feel the Force, the everyday waves and eddies that flowed through it. But she couldn’t manipulate it. Not without hearing the snap of Katie’s neck. The clear crisp sound would snap not only Katie’s neck, but Natalya’s concentration. The mental ripple came again from Goll, and Natalya pulled herself out of bed. Dressing herself and collecting her thoughts, she moved up to the top level of the ship, where Goll sat in meditation. The controls for the ship moved on their own, controlled by impulses from Goll’s mind. “We will land in a few minutes, prepare yourself. I have been told the cold is rather bracing.” Natalya didn’t answer. There was no need. “Sit, apprentice. There are things I must discuss with you before we land.” Natalya didn’t sit, but turned to look at Goll’s motionless form. A jerk of Force energy threw Natalya into a nearby chair. “Isn’t that better?” Again, Natalya didn’t speak. Her anger had laid dormant for days, but now, so close to Goll, the man who’d forced her to kill Katie, she felt hate welling up in her gut. She could barely look at Goll without imagining his head, his body, twisted and broken. “I will make this quick, apprentice. I believe in self-taught exercises, so I will give you as little instruction as possible.” Goll still hadn’t moved, and the notion had reality had been gone for so long that Natalya couldn't tell if Goll was speaking, or just projecting his thoughts. “When we land on the surface, I will drop you off at a specific set of coordinates with a holocom and your bags. You will set up your own camp nearby and live off the land. This will be a test to see if the Force wishes you to live. For only with the help and guidance of the Force will you survive here. I will, occasionally, call you to give you your next task. That is how it will work here. I wish you luck, my apprentice.” Natalya hadn't realized it, but, looking out the view pane, she saw the harsh ice covered world of Illum rushing up to meet her. It was white. Covered in… snow? Natalya had never seen snow before, not with her own eyes. The ship landed. “I will see you soon, apprentice.” Goll had spoken as he watched Natalya leave. Then he had left. The first thing Natalya noticed was the wind. The cold wasn’t bad, it would seep in over time, but it wasn’t bad. But the wind… that cut into her. Dropping her bags on the snow covered ground, Natalya looked slowly around. “Well,” she muttered, “Home sweet home.” Then she started walking. ---------- The snow offered quiet. Quiet offered time. For contemplation. The monotony of Natalya’s march helped. She wasn’t sure what she thought about as she walked for hours. At one point it was anger, another point it was thanks. Her emotions were all over the place, her inner serenity she would use to use to escape from the calamities of day-to-day life had been shattered when she had killed Katie. Katie. Her mind went there too. Back to the compound on Draethos, even. The hot summer days. The years of training. The soft bed she’d go back to every night. Soft. Warm. Natalya had to shake her head to keep herself awake, to keep herself focused. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, what she was waiting for. All she knew was that she had to keep walking. But how did she know? How did she know anything at all? How could someone think in the cold? “The Force…” Natalya mumbled through cold lips. That was where her feeling came from. The Force was guiding her. That thought kept her going until she found the cave. Hours after being dropped on the planet, bundled in layers of clothes frozen by Illum’s constant blizzards, and half-dead from walking, Natalya had found the cave. It was half covered in a snow-drift and looked as though it was nearly a straight drop down, but it promised warmth and shelter. Natalya dropped down into the cave. There was about a five or six foot drop down, but nothing too bad. The cave itself was huge. A vast chamber, it didn’t have any connecting passages, but it was a very large, very substantial, room. The celling was about eight or nine feet high, though how that worked given the six foot drop Natalya had gone through to come into the chamber she wasn’t sure. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the chamber, she began to make out details. She saw the standard stalagmites and stalactites stretching up and down in the chamber like teeth. There were beds of crystals, for which Illum was known for, crisscrossing the room, but, for some odd reason, their light had died out. “Odd…” Natalya muttered, reaching out with a feeble tendril of the Force. Even though her connection was weak, pathetically so, she still had to withdraw the tendril when she felt the massive darkness the cave held. The Force was dark here, very dark. Natalya had only been unable to sense it because of her loose connection to the Force. Something awful had happened here. Someone dark had lived here. That was when Natalya saw the bones. Pearly white, shimmering like stars, they were half coated in ice in one corner of the room. They were picked completely clean. One of the bones, not yet covered in ice, still had meat on it. Fresh meat. A loud thump shook the ground tremendously around Natalya, knocking her to the ground. “RAARGH” A great white wampa cried, very angry at the intruder, having just come back to its den. Natalya, reflexively, threw a Force wave towards the creature; it barely staggered the wampa, serving more to anger it further than to help anything. Scampering to her feet, Natalya ran to the other side of the room, choosing to flee. The wampa, although its foot speed was slow, caught up to Natalya in a matter of moments, its long stride out pacing Natalya’s. With a powerful swipe, Natalya was flung against the far wall. She slammed into it hard, cracking the ice and just barely managing to stay conscious. Stars spinning in front of her eyes, Natalya coughed riotously, trying desperately to catch her breath. Through flickering vision, she saw the wampa racing towards her, anger in its eyes. Natalya sunk herself into the Force. Her wounds grew less painful and she could breathe again. But all she could see was Katie. The broken body. The twisted neck. The lifeless eyes. “NO!” Natalya shouted, letting the waves of the Force engulf her, sinking deeply into the ocean. Trying to escape. Waves of Force energy spun off of her, shattering the wampa’s charge and knocking the great creature back several paces. Roaring in frustration, the wampa tried to fight its way back up to Natalya, but the energy rolling off of her kept it back. Meanwhile, Natalya was still fighting herself. Her own guilt. The deeper she went into the Force, the more vivid the images were. She could smell Katie’s distinctive perfume, a peachy scent she would create from a flower. She could see each individual hair on her head, the blonde color left to grow naturally. She could see the lone droplet of blood running down the neck, the only indication of her injuries. It was too much. With a tremendous rush of energy that sent spider webs of cracks up and down the walls of the cave, Natalya fell down onto the ground. Her connection to the Force had shattered, leaving her tired and worn. Through half-closed eyes Natalya saw the wampa move in on her. It was a giant shadow obscuring the light. Resigned to her fate, Natalya didn’t resist as the wampa laid one razor sharp talon on her neck, tracing the jugular down. Tired as she was, she noticed this odd behavior. Wild animals didn’t savor their kills. Barely aware, she heard, as though from a great distance, the crackle, the buzz, the hum of some device. A lightsaber? The shadow, the wampa, disappeared, moving away. Her vision was nearly gone, she was on the verge of passing out. But, still, Natalya saw the lone figure, a beam of light in its hand, driving out the shadow. Goll, she thought. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she was not to know that the figure was not Goll. It was a Jedi.
  10. From start of Republic quest chain on Tatooine. Agent Fowler: "Camus! You know how I feel about corpses in my workspace!"
  11. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 14: Dreams CORAN WAS back in their hideout. It was the same dream state from before, except his teammates were no longer appearing from thin air. Yet. “Well, least I’m not dead,” Coran muttered to himself, trying to put the pieces together. Last he remembered, he had sat down behind the controls of the ship on some wild instinct. His mind had been yelling at him to stop, that he had no idea how to fly a ship, and then, it had all gone blank. That was when he’d come back here. Again. He’d tried yelling and kicking and screaming. He’d even found his spare blaster he’d always kept under his bed and shot up the room. But, no matter what he did, as soon as he turned away for even a second it would all fix itself. It was starting to get annoying. Suddenly, inexplicably, the room shook back and forth violently, as if a ground quake was happening. It lasted only a few seconds before stopping rather suddenly. “What the-“ Coran began, but he didn’t get very far before a loud, otherworldly voice cut him off. “You are a fool.” It echoed, the sound reverberating around the small, enclosed space. Not responding, Coran drew his weapon and began to check the room, searching for the source of the sound. The voice, unperturbed, continued to speak to him. “I should not have had to intervene, yet I did. Your plan failed to succeed. If this continues, I may require a new host.” Giving up his attempt to hunt down the voice, Coran sent several rounds into the ceiling, hoping to at least disturb whomever was talking to him. “Your weapon does nothing, fool. Perhaps you are even less intelligent than I thought you were.” “Who are you?” Coran finally snapped, sending another volley of bolts into the ceiling. “Ah,” The voice said, finally sounding pleased, “Finally, an intelligent question.” With a trickle, like sand through a sieve, a figure appeared behind Coran. It had glowing skin that breathed a soft blue smoke, and wore a tan robe, similar to that of the Jedi Order. It appeared in the shape of a human, but every time Coran tried to look him in the face, all he saw was a conglomerate of thousands of different faces and expressions from thousands of different people. “I,” It said, having a body at last, “Am the essence, the idea, the force that is Balance.” “So what?” Coran asked, giving the “spirit” a skeptical look. “So what?” The spirit mocked, sounding insulted, “I am Balance, I am the difference between the light and the dark. I am the force that evens the world. I am an attribute of the almighty Force! I am perhaps one of the most powerful beings you will ever meet!” The spirit sounded very proud of itself at this, puffing itself up in a huff of anger. Coran swore it grew several inches. Coran shook his head lightly, still very confused. “And what does that mean? Why are you here? Just explain this all to me!” He shouted the last bit, waving his hands all around. The spirit stayed absolutely still, as if thinking intently, before finally speaking, pacing slowly back and forth as though contemplating great sums. “Imagine,” It began, and the room was swept away as though it were dust, revealing a black nothing. “The galaxy is destroyed.” As the words were spoken, a map of the galaxy spanned out from nothing, moving through and past Coran. The thousands of tiny bright lights, miniature stars, began to wink out, one by one, until only on remained. The light flickered briefly, and then vanished, consumed by darkness. “Life is gone. Nothing exists. An extreme, perhaps, but your race seems to thrive on extremes.” The spirit came into view now, its form glowing slightly to reveal to Coran the hundreds of thousands of dead stars, of black holes, of nothing that was there. “What I do is to Balance the galaxy.” A single point of light appeared in front of the spirit, and, before long, it had begun to spread as the galaxy began to illuminate itself. “I bring light where there is dark, but do assume that makes me good, kind, merciful. Because, just as I bring light, I also bring the darkness.” The galaxy began to glow. The stars shone brighter and brighter, until Coran could barely look at them. Then the light started to fade. Able to see again, Coran watched as the spirit passed its hands over huge sections of bright stars, to leave them black and empty. “I am Balance.” The spirit stated once more as the galaxy vanished and the room returned to its previous state. Coran couldn’t help but chuckle. Smart people, things, spirits, were always the same. They always ducked the karking question, every time. “So what?” Coran asked again, now opening laughing in a hysterical manner. “Why are you here?” “Hmm…” The spirit mused, examining Coran curiously, “I had thought that would explain it. Obviously you need things spelled out more clearly.” Once more, the room vanished, leaving Coran with a sense of vertigo. Hard to stand straight when you can’t see a floor. On the far side of what had once been the room, a web of shadows began to grow. There was no light to create them; they just appeared from the air, a darkness that consumed any light. “There is a darkness coming. Not the Empire, of course, I have something planned for them. Not the Sith, no, their nature is too chaotic. This… this is something far more precise.” The spirit was in deep thought, staring at the deepening shadows with, Coran was surprised to see, was worry. “No creature, however powerful, could create this. No, this is something far worse. Chaos.” The spirit spoke the last word with great meaning, though Coran felt he was missing something. “Chaos?” He repeated, forming the word into a question. “Of course,” Sighed the spirit, sounding somewhat annoyed. “You wouldn’t know, this is all above your level of thought.” The web had congealed now, into a great spiral, a gaping maw of darkness. “If I exist,” The spirit began, stretching out his hand towards the maw, “This aspect of the Force… then there must be others. It’s a given, a certainty, a fact, though it makes no sense whatsoever.” The spirit touched the maw. A single bright point of light bloomed from where he touched it, spreading across the maw. Dark and light flowed together, forming thousands of different mixes, thousands of shades. “I am the grey.” It spoke slowly, calmly, any trace of pride gone, “So there must be a light, and a dark, and thousands of others for the thousands of shades of grey that exist in-between.” “So what is that?” Coran asked, gesturing towards what was left of the maw. “Dark? Or just some shade of it?” “I do not know.” The spirit spoke, quietly, as the room faded back to its original mold. The old sewer junction. “So let me get this straight.” Coran spoke, plopping down on a chair. “You are here because you need me to get rid of a giant, scary, black, web? Right… just great…” Holstering his weapon, Coran ran his hands through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “You are correct, surprisingly. Though your terminology is… rather weak.” The spirit confirmed, still staring dully at the spot where the maw had been. “Why me?” “A question, that, perhaps,” The spirit began, turning to face Coran, “does not need to yet be answered.” “Ok, then,” Coran said angrily, “Then at least tell me why I should help you?” “I assumed it was obvious.” Shaking his head fiercely, Coran replied, “Whether the universe is light or dark is not my problem.” Coran stood, pointing forcefully at the spirit for effect, “My problem is my team; Kaarn, Alia, and Gurkgren. One of them is still down on Corellia. I’m going to get him, and then go live my life. Your ‘balance’ is not my problem.” “Gurkgren is dead, fool.” “What?” “He fell trying to kill the traitor, Michael, you didn’t know?” “I haven’t had the chance to find out because I’m still stuck in here with you!!” Coran shouted at the top of his lungs, anger sparking. He flipped the table, kicked the chairs, shooting the place up until he had no more ammo. Still, the place returned itself to normal. Anger muted, Coran finally sat down against the wall. “That was unnecessary.” “Shut up and leave me alone.” “I still require your services. Or, if nothing else, your body as a host.” “Then take it!” Coran shouted, throwing his used pistol at the spirit. “Since you seem to think I have no other purpose in life except to do what you want!” “Hmm… No regard for your own life? Acceptable, but I have other ways of making you work.” A layer of dust spun up from the ground, and a body was formed from it, lying prone on the ground. Finding it hard to see who it was from his angle, Coran stood and moved over to the body. It was Alia. A smoking hole in her heart, her body lay cold and motionless. Dead. “Alia…” Coran murmured. “She will die, whether you help me or not. It is her fate.” “Why are you showing me this?” Coran said quietly, unable to take his eyes off of Alia. “Because, I know a way to save her.” “How?” Coran asked, standing up and meeting the spirit in his congealed mess of a face, determination in his eyes. “Agree to help me, and I will tell you.” “Fine,” Coran gave in, “I’ll do it. Now how can I save her?” “You understand,” The spirit began gravely, “That if you go back on this deal I will kill her myself.” “I understand,” Coran said, slowly, looking back down at Alia’s lifeless features. “Then a deal is a deal.” “How do I save her?” “She will die taking a round for you. A shot straight to the heart. To save her, you must abandon her. When you touch down on Nar Shaddaa, after you complete my tasks there, then you must leave her behind. That is the only path in which she survives.” “So,” Coran asked dully, knowing the answer to his question, “I have to leave her to save her.” “Indeed.” They sat there in silence for a few minutes, neither having anything to say. Until Coran decided to ask a question that had been nagging at him. “What was this about Nar Shaddaa?” Asked Coran, his face colorless, his voice dry. “Go there, and I will tell you.” With that, the room, and the spirit, went up in a flash of dust. The darkness crept back in. Before he knew it, Coran was awake.
  12. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 13: Diplomatic Immunity ARDUN WOKE with a pounding headache and blood streaming from his thigh. “Ugh,” He groaned, sitting up and clumsily putting pressure on his wound. A sizzling from the corner told him where Vain was. “Ma’am?” He shouted, “What are you doing?” “They’ve locked us out!” She cried out, not even bothering to look back, “They’re taking the ship!” “Yes, and cutting through a Republic blast door won’t help, ma’am.” “Of course it will.” Ardun tried to stand up, but found his leg too weak and fell back down. “Not when we are on an enemy planet, ma’am. It would be best to simply wait this out.” Even as he spoke the words, a squad of Cor-sec officers ran into the room. “Put the lightsaber down, Sith!” Their leader, John Holmes, yelled, brandishing a weapon at Vain. Vain merely turned and held her blade before her menacingly. “Captain.” She spoke, locking eyes with the Cor-sec commander, “What was that you were saying?” Shaking his head, Ardun chuckled to himself. She had to have the last word, didn’t she? “Never mind, ma’am,” He responded, hands still wrapped tightly around his injured thigh. “Sith!” The commander shouted again, “Drop the weapon or we fire!” The crackle of lightning echoed through the air, and bolts of purple electricity flowed around Vain’s body. The Cor-sec officers stepped back slowly, staring intently at the light show going on around Vain. “Did you say fire?” Asked Vain, launching the bolt of Force lighting towards Holmes. “Apprentice!” The single word echoed fiercely around the room. The bolt of lightning dissipated in a burst of energy. That was when Darth Arctis came into the room. “What is going on here, apprentice?” Darth Arctis screamed, moving over to Vain, her every step radiating anger. Looking rather shocked, Vain opened her mouth to reply, but Arctis did not give her the opportunity, flinging her apprentice against the bulkhead behind her. Summoning both Vain’s and her own lightsabers to her hand, Arctis brought them to bear in a cross at Vain’s throat. “The negotiations were short. Thanks to your incredible ability to kark things up. Tell me, apprentice, what were you thinking?” “My lord!” Ardun shouted, trying to get back up on his feet. “We were attacked by a small group of thieves. They are now inside, attempting to steal the ship. Lord Vain was merely trying to prevent their escape.” The Cor-sec commander, Holmes, looked alarmed as Ardun spoke, almost like he knew what was going on. The Darth closed her eyes for a moment, as though searching the docking bay with her mind. Her next statement implied that she had, indeed, felt the thieves inside. “Commander!!” She shouted, turning on Holmes violently, “Why are their thieves inside my ship!?!” Holmes gestured to his men to take a quick step back, “We will handle this, not to worry. I will call another escort to take you to your meeting.” One of Holmes’ men moved off as he spoke, speaking quickly and quietly into a communicator, likely to call the other escort. “Jax?” Holmes asked, turning to his men. One of the men, near the rear of the group, moved forward. “Yes, sir?” The man inquired, saluting his commander. “Take this group here and deal with the thieves. Shoot to kill, understood?” “Sir, yes, sir.” The soldier responded, turning to give out orders to the rest of the group. “Sith,” Holmes spoke, walking away, “Come with me.” “Not until my ship is secure.” Arctis said coolly, still holding both her and her apprentice’s sabers. “Not an option.” Holmes said, meeting Arctis’ eye. The two stood there for a moment, sizing each other up, before Arctis gave in. “Vain,” She said quietly, “Grab the idiot soldier over there,” She gestured to Ardun, “And follow me.” “Yes, Master,” Vain said, subdued, and moved over to Ardun. “Sleep well,” Vain said quietly as she passed her hand over Ardun’s eyes. A moment later, it all went black.
  13. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 12: Escape EVERYTHING WENT white. Coran felt his body go rigid, and then he felt it melt away. And then there was nothing. Just a vast emptiness. Without a thought, it all changed. There was no boom, no flash of light. It just changed. The surroundings were familiar now, Coran noted. He was back in their little sewer home, standing in the center, the water lapping at his ankles. “Coran?” A soft voice whispered. Pivoting lightly on his ankle, Coran turned to look down the eastern passage. And there was Alia. Dressed in a stunning white dress that accented her curves and smoothed her edges, she took Coran’s breath away. “Like what you see?” She asked. And it was all Coran could do not to blush. He smiled broadly and nodded, drunk on pleasure. “I do,” Coran said just as quietly, moving closer to her. “I knew you’d like it,” She said, twirling in her dress, a wondrously rare smile on her face. She laughed, a soft burbling sound, and looked at Coran lovingly. “I love you,” She said, and then vanished into dust. Panicked, Coran rushed forward to try and grab her, but he was too late. “Alia!” He cried, grabbing at mist. So fervent was his effort that he fell, face first, into the stream of water below. He crashed down and the water splashed, flying through the air. But there was no sound. There was no crash of the water as it came back to earth, no soft ripple as Coran pulled himself back up. Coran had only a few moments to notice this before another voice echoed through the room. “You were right,” Kaarn said, in his usual collected tone. “Sorry I ever doubted you, buddy.” Turning, Coran saw Kaarn in the middle of the junction, arms crossed, legs slightly split apart. But it wasn’t right. Something was off about it. The figure in front of him wasn’t Kaarn; there was some minuscule difference that put Coran off. Maybe it was the fur, the expression, the voice, but something wasn't right. Something wasn't real. “Who are you?” Asked Coran, crossing his arms and looking carefully at Kaarn. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” The figure spoke, and then exploded into a mist of dust. Coran ducked his head to protect himself and shielded his eyes from the millions of dust particles flying his way. A few moments later, when the small storm had passed, Coran stood and examined the junction. Searching for another apparition, Coran didn’t think to look behind him, where a shadowy figure materialized out of the air behind him; a pistol in hand. “Coran.” The voice spoke, the single word sounding faintly ominous. Turning slowly around, Coran saw Michael standing behind him with Coran’s pistol, the A-300, held loosely in his hand. “Michael…” Muttered Coran, slightly confused. Michael wasn’t someone he’d been expecting to see. “Such a fragile thing… a life.” Michael said slowly, turning the barrel of the gun over in his hands. The barrel moved towards Coran, and, as though watching from a dream, Coran saw the barrel flash as energy ionized. He never saw the bolt fly out. It passed through his body and Coran cried out in pain, falling to his knees and clutching his chest. “Goodbye,” Michael said, and Coran felt a layer of fine dust fall on top of him as Michael disappeared. Then the world vanished. All was black. “I have been waiting.” A deep voice echoed from the blackness. A small pin***** of light appeared in the distance, and as it became larger, Coran could begin to see his body once more. “For what?” Begged Coran as he floundered in the blackness, trying to find something tangible to stand on. “You.” “Why me? Stang, what are you anyway?” “It is no matter. All that matters is that you are here.” “No. I want answers! Where am I? Who are you? Why me? Why now? Answer me!” Coran shouted, and as his voice rang out through space the light vanished, and so did the dark. It was impossible to explain, Coran would later think, but there was now just… nothing there. It was nothing. No light, no dark, nothing. ---------- That was when feeling began to return. As though feeling a long lost limb, sense began to return to Coran. He felt the hard surface of durasteel plates under his hands. He smelt smoke and fur and, oddly, a wondrous perfume. He tasted the metallic taint of blood. Then, his eyes opened. “Thank the stars,” Alia said, her face incredibly close to Coran’s. “Kaarn!” She cried softly, “He’s awake!” Rushing over, Kaarn’s face soon entered Coran’s field of vision as well. “Good, because we need to go; now.” He said, a mixture of urgency, relief, and despair on his face. “Then hurry up with that hack!” Snapped Alia, pushing Kaarn away from Coran, “I’ll bring him back up to speed,” Sitting up, Coran saw, to his right, the large profile of a Fury-class interceptor. “Wait.” He said, “When did I get here?” “Time for that later,” Alia said, pushing Coran’s A-300 into his hand, “Find a spot, get your sightlines, and shoot anything that comes through that door.” She said, pointing towards the door on the far side of the hanger. Looking closely, Coran recognized it as the door to the waiting room. Looking even more closely, Coran saw a bright pin***** of red light carving a hole in the door. “Is that a-“ Coran began to ask, but Alia cut him off. “Yes, it’s a lightsaber, don’t you remember anything?” She said, exasperated, as though this was old news. Thinking back, Coran replied, “The last thing I remember is talking to Kaarn. There was something he had to know… something he-“Now it was Kaarn’s turn to cut him off. “That Michael was a traitor, right? You never got the chance to tell me, but we figured it out soon enough.” Kaarn yelled over, while punching in a complex series of numbers in the Fury. About to open his mouth to ask another question, Alia cut off Coran before he could even speak, directing her comment at Kaarn. “Aren’t you done with that yet? You said it would only take a minute!” “Can it!” Kaarn snapped back, “Almost done.” As he spoke those last two words the Fury’s hatch door smoothly slid open. “Got it!” Kaarn yelled, sprinting inside. “Coming!” Cried Alia as she followed Kaarn. Coran, still confused, followed them as well, closing the Fury’s hatch as he entered the ship. Striding aboard, Coran was admiring the craftsmanship when Kaarn’s voice snapped on via the loudspeakers. “Coran, Alia, get up here, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!” Coran, not even pausing to register how quickly Kaarn had accessed the ship’s computers, raced to the bridge. As soon as he reached the bridge he was greeted by a brilliant scene of flashing lights and flickering numbers. Lost in it all, Coran threw himself down in the nearest seat, watching Kaarn work his magic at the controls. “Stang, Kaarn,” Coran whispered, “When did you learn how fly like this?” As he spoke the words, a faint memory came back to his ears. “Who are you?” “That’s the question, isn’t it?” The ship moved up and towards the spaceport exit. Alarms began ringing loudly as the hanger registered an unauthorized takeoff. The already chaotic bridge now filled with the crimson red of flashing lights. The door to the hanger started closing shut, a precaution against thieves, and Kaarn gunned the engines. The ship slipped between the ever closing space, leaving two long gouges in the ship’s wings as the ship barely slipped through. Shuddering tremendously, the ship’s repulsorlifts sputtered and Kaarn almost lost control of the ship. “Sorry,” Kaarn yelled as he flipped a few switches and pressed a few buttons, reestablishing the ship’s equilibrium, but just barely. The comm buzzed loudly. Kaarn didn’t even bother to look at it. “Coran!” He shouted, “Get that for me, would you?” Coran waved affirmation and slid over to the comm, hitting the switch on the wall behind Kaarn. A small blue figure materialized out of the air in front of Coran. Though it was hard to tell, with everything being blue, Coran was fairly certain the man in front of him wore the garb of the republic military. The man’s next words proved him right. “Stop your ship and submit to boarding by the Republic Military. This is not a request. If you do not concede then we will be forced to open fire on-“ Coran switched off the comm. “Kaarn!” He yelled, “Tell me you installed that spike!” Kaarn didn’t speak for a moment, “Stang,” he muttered, “Knew I forgot something,” “Kaarn!” Alia shouted, her eyes wide with fear. “Best get on those turrets,” Kaarn said as he gunned the engines, moving towards the atmosphere. A few moments later the ship bucked as they broke through the atmosphere. That was also when Alia had a realization. “This thing doesn’t have turrets, Kaarn!” “Stang…” Kaarn trailed off. He wasn’t really conversing, as his focus was vested elsewhere. The comm buzzed again, and Coran snapped. “We don’t karking care!” He yelled, pulling out his pistol and blowing a hole in the comm system. Alia glared at him heatedly, and all Coran could do was shrug. “What?” He asked bitterly, the question rhetorical, “It would have been a boring conversation anyway.” A loud crack echoed through the ship and the world shook violently. Coran and Alia, not strapped in, were thrown off their feet. Discussion stopped there. Looking at each other, Coran and Alia had the same thought. We’ve been hit. “Damage report?” Coran asked, getting back on his feet. “Shields to ten percent, venting leaks in the medical bay and port barracks. Severe external damage. We can’t take another hit like that.” Kaarn said, able to shift his focus just long enough to check. Taking a deep breath, Coran closed his eyes and envisioned the situation in his mind. He had never been as good at this as Kaarn, but, in a pinch, he could work wonders. Coran’s mind flitted through possibilities, solutions, chances, and then began spitting out directions. “Alia, get us locked in for hyperdrive, Kaarn, get on a console and see if you can get your hack implemented, stay nearby to help out Alia.” “Then who’s flying?” Alia asked, moving over to the navigational controls. “I am.” Coran said, moving into the pilot’s seat as Kaarn stepped out, the Bothan’s eyes doubtful. “Do you even know how to?” Kaarn asked, quietly, as if already given up. “I just… know.” Coran said, strapping himself in and jerking the ship in a hard starboard to avoid another volley. Kaarn, moving to a terminal, paused over a screen. “We’ve got company.” He said, hitting Coran on the shoulder, “Seven Talon-class fighters, incoming.” “Bring ‘em on.” Coran said, his eyes becoming solid blue disks. The ship ducked and turned and flitted, back and forth, up and down, left and right. From space, it was as if the ship had just multiplied, the speed leaving afterimages that threw off sights. Suddenly, the ship halted in mid-air, the thrusters reversed to slow the ship as much as possible. The Talon fighters, moving quickly to keep up, were left a distance ahead of the Fury, clear in the range of its cannons. But Coran didn’t take a shot, but launched the ship’s EMP suites, disabling the fighters, and then jerked the ship to the side, taking it on an intercept course with one of the five great capitol ships orbiting Corellia. Kaarn and Alia, though focused on their tasks, couldn’t help but watch in awe as fields and fields of turbo lasers on the capitol ship lit up, sending a flurry of rounds at the small ship. Coran danced between the waves, moving in just as the next flurry was sent up until he was riding alongside the lines of turbo lasers. “Are the hyperspace coordinates ready?” The deep, supernatural voice asked, a clear indication that this was not truly Coran. “Almost.” Alia responded, jumping back into her work with renewed energy. Kaarn ran over from his position, the hack hopeless, to help Alia out with the coordinates. Meanwhile, Coran spun the ship and weaved it in and out of the rows of turbo lasers. Light began dancing across the view screen once more as he moved upward, towards the command bridge of the ship, once more in the ship’s line of fire. Now though, every capitol ship, fighter, frigate, any military vessel scrambled, had a clear field of fire as well. The ship’s path was engulfed in greens and blues and reds. The ship began shaking, trembling, as fire began hitting the ship. Finally, with a loud crash, the ship jerked to the left heavily. “This machine is damaged.” Coran spoke, calmly, “Enter the coordinates now, or we die.” “Take ‘em” Alia shouted, inputting the final numbers. Kaarn, who was closest to the switch, flicked the switch. The field of fire vanished, along with the stars, into lines of light. Then, with a crack, the ship entered hyperspace. They had, escaped, barely. The task complete, Coran, like before, passed out.
  14. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 11: Prices KATIE FOUND her way to the shuttle bay fairly quickly. A few quick words and quiet promises to the lone guard and she was through into the bay itself. From there it didn’t take her long to find Goll. Meditating in front of a rust bucket of a ship, he had a small bag next to him; probably filled with clothes, Katie thought, and his lightsaber strapped to his belt. “Talk about packing light.” Katie mumbled, making her way to Goll, no even quite sure what she was going to say. As she grew closer and closer, her heart began racing. Why am I even here? She thought to herself, but the thought was quickly dismissed. She was here for Natalya; her friend. Katie took a deep breath, and then opened her mouth, planning to yell something like; Hey dirt bag! or something similar. However, Goll beat her to the punch. “What is it, girl?” He asked, opening his eyes and not even bothering to rise from his position. “Give me back my friend!” Katie yelled, and then quickly shoved her hand over her mouth. That wasn’t quite what she had wanted to say. “Why?” Katie paused, she didn’t really have a good reason why. “Because…” She began, biting her tongue while she thought of something to say, “Because I need her. I won’t be able to get through this place without her.” Letting out a short breath, Katie smiled to herself. That was surely a good enough reason; and it was even true, in a manner of speaking. Natalya was the one who helped Katie focus, and, if it wasn’t for her, Katie might have been “removed” from class by now. Her force powers were highly erratic and not exactly reliable. “So, your abilities are weak?” Katie’s eyes went wide. That was not what he was supposed to have gotten from this. “No!” She retorted, making sure she looked as offended as possible. “Curious,” Goll said, crossing his arms and looking at Katie with interest. “What?” Katie said, now confused. What did he mean by “curious”? Of course, that was when Natalya walked in. Wearing a plain brown robe and carrying her bags; two of them, her eyes widened as she drew near Katie. “Katie?” Natalya asked, blue eyes twinkling in confusion. “I… I… umm,” Katie tried to speak, but couldn’t find words. This whole thing had been a very, very bad idea. “Good,” Goll spoke, quietly, looking at the two girls. “This will work out better than I hoped. Natalya, I’m sure you realized by now that I am to be your new teacher for the immediate future. Your first lesson begins now.” Katie felt a cold force around her neck. It lifted her up, inch by inch, and Natalya’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what Goll was doing. “Stop that!” She yelled, reaching out with the Force to save her friend. The words of her new master, Goll, stopped her. “You do, she dies.” So Natalya stood, helpless, and watched her friend being slowly choked. “This woman,” Spoke Goll, staring at Natalya and not even seeming to register the body floating in midair, “Is your time at this place, at this compound. She is your friend, your confidant, your protector, perhaps. She is all you were at this place. Look at her, and see yourself.” Shouting the last words, Goll entered Natalya’s mind. Wrenching control of it from the woman, Goll altered Natalya’s perception of the world, shaped it in order to better serve his lesson. ---------- Natalya looked up. All she saw was herself, ten years younger, dressed in an initiate’s robe. Emotions that were not hers flooded through her; Hate, Spite, Anger. That young child was weak, pathetic, it didn’t deserve to live! Strike her down Natalya grabbed ahold of herself, “NO!” She screamed. “That isn’t me, that’s Katie!” Strike her down “No!” Strike her down “No…” Strike her down The command focused through Natalya, became Natalya. Her world became contained within that fragile space. Katie and Natalya. But it wasn’t Katie. It was weakness, pity, ignorance, everything Natalya had been force-fed since childhood. It, for there was no other word for the creature hanging in the air, was a lie. Then, in a brief moment that flickered past, so fast as to almost be forgotten, Natalya snapped it’s neck. It crumpled to the ground, a pile of rags and robes, but Natalya didn’t pay any attention to that. Slowly, her mind became her own once more as Goll released his control. Though it seemed frivolous, Natalya noticed Goll’s hands were shaking as he released his hold on her. “Do you understand what just happened?” Goll asked, sitting back down. “I let go, metaphorically, of course. I let go of this place. I wiped my slate clean.” “Good,” Goll said, smiling. “Entirely right. Now get on the ship, we must leave.” Natalya nodded and gathered her things, heading up into the ship’s interior. Goll stayed outside and stared at the fallen corpse, thinking. He would have to be careful. Natalya was strong when she wanted to be, but he could not break her. He had gotten close there; he had almost broken her mind under his. Almost. Goll would have to find another way to teach her, else he would soon not have an apprentice. Musing over this thought, Goll gathered his things and joined Natalya in the shuttle. Within a few minutes, they were off to Ilum, the quiet of space a contrast with Goll’s racing mind.
  15. Quifand

    Forceblind

    Thank you! Hopefully it gets better as it goes. I had this whole thing planned out in my head, and it was going to be this nice short story, but then I realized how long it was taking me to just get them off the planet. Then I had this idea (Ardun) slap me in the face like a wet fish, and he just had to go in.... and.... and...... and...... *sigh* I have problems...
  16. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 10: Fuses Blow “KEEP UP back there!” The Cor-sec commander, John Holmes, yelled at Xavier. “Yes,” Darth Arctis agreed, from her position by the commander, “Do keep up.” Rolling his eyes, Xavier gestured to the rest of the squad to keep up. Jane, Vaughn, Nicholas, and Alex, all dressed in their full black and red Imperial body armor picked up the pace. “Do keep up.” Nicholas mocked loudly through the squad’s comm system. “Back off, Nicholas,” Xavier warned, watching the Darth in front of them cautiously, as if she had heard Nicholas’ insult. “Why?” Nicholas scoffed, “Not like she can hear us.” “Want to test that?” Jane asked quietly, her eyes on Xavier, though he didn’t notice. That shut Nicholas up rather quickly, and for the next minute or so they traveled in silence. Xavier eventually took his eyes off the Darth and looked around. Their little convoy still hadn’t left the spaceport yet; it was that big. Xavier hadn’t seen anything like it before. In the Empire, nothing was this massive, or this beautiful. The walls were towering, but not in a threating way, it was… indescribable. “Incredible…” He muttered over the comm as they neared the exit, or entrance, depending on which way you were going, of the spaceport. Laid out before them was a long staircase leading down to the ground. People walked up and down it like a swarm of insects. But that was all the view he got before the Cor-sec officers around him crowded him en masse, blocking his view of everything. At first, both Xavier and his squad went on alert, prepared to draw their weapons, before they realized that the officers were just trying to obscure the view of the Imperial commandos. “Guess we should have brought some more inconspicuous dress.” Vaughn muttered, having come to the same conclusion as Xavier. “Won’t matter.” Alex said, highlighting a point via the squad’s HUD. It was a Republic shuttle, already unloaded and prepared for passengers. A few moments later, Alex’s instincts turned out to be true as the officers herded the group into the shuttle bay. Xavier found himself standing next to the Darth again, who was engaged in what appeared to be a flirtatious conversation with the commander. Xavier chuckled, “You guys seeing this?” He asked, nodding his head towards the Darth. “Yes, she’s got more game than you, Xavier; course, that’s not saying much.” “Shut up.” Jane and Xavier said simultaneously, before both looking away, embarrassed. “What they said.” Vaughn continued, giving Nicholas a light punch to the shoulder. “Strap in, taking off in ten,” The shuttle pilot conveyed over the intercom. Xavier began leading his men towards some seats, but then, something caused him to stop. Maybe it was instinct, or the Force, or something, but Xavier turned back around and found the barrels of twenty Cor-sec weapons aimed at him, the commander in the background talking on his comm, his own weapon leveled at the Darth. “Stand down,” The Cor-sec officers said, gesturing down with their weapons. Hesitating for a moment, Xavier almost refused. He almost pulled his own trigger. But something told him not to. “What’s the problem, Commander?” The Darth asked on the other side of the shuttle as the squad surrendered their weapons. The commander looked curiously at the Darth, then at the squad. “Explosion near Docking Bay C6, where you left two of your men. And I don’t believe in coincidences.” Taking a sharp breath, Xavier’s mind raced, one word coming to the surface, a puzzling enigma. Ardun? ---------- With a sharp pain to the stomach, Ardun woke up. “Uck…” He muttered, pulling himself up to a sitting position from his bed. Stretching side to side, he felt like he hadn’t moved in days. A quick check on the chrono told him I hadn’t been more than twenty minutes. “What the…?” He muttered, confused. “Careful,” Vain said, coming over to Ardun, “I put you through a healing trance. You’ll be very sore, try to move carefully.” Ardun, hesitant to trust the Sith, followed her advice as he stood, slowly. “I suppose thanks are in order, my lord.” “Stop that,” Vain said, annoyed, picking two small mugs up from the ground near Ardun. Ardun could smell the fumes coming from them, and was fairly certain it was coffee. “Just call me Vain. None of that ‘lord’ nonsense. I’m not a Lord yet; so I don’t deserve to be called one, not yet. Coffee?” “Sure,” Ardun said, accepting the coffee, but not without some degree of caution. Sith were not known for kindness… or friendliness… or anything this Sith was doing. “Now…” She said, sitting down on the ground and gesturing for Ardun to do the same. “How did you know about what I did at the academy? I had those records sealed personally. No one should have been able to find it, so how did you?” Ardun sighed in relief. Hearing the greedy, hungry desire for knowledge in her voice had reassured him. This Sith had only been acting in self-interest, which fit much better with Ardun’s experience. “The engineer on my squad,” Ardun admitted, knowing he was going to have to give this up eventually. “I had him run a search on anything pertinent to you. I like to know my allies well. I was not aware that they were so heavily concealed; but to Alex it is not much of a problem.” “Hmm…” Vain mused, standing and throwing her coffee mug to the side. It landed on the ground, smashing and spilling its liquid over the cargo bay floor. “Was that necessary?” Ardun asked, sighing lightly. Vain didn’t respond, but simply began pacing. Ardun, though he tried to remain aloof, couldn’t help but admire her fine figure. That was, until he rose suddenly several feet in the air, suspended by an invisible hand around his throat. Within seconds, oxygen was cut off, and Ardun began slowly dying. “You will not speak to anyone about those files, understood?” Vain ordered, fiercely. “Yes,” Ardun managed to spit out, but just barely. “Good,” Ardun fell back down to the ground, barely landing on his feet. “Don’t disturb me, I’m going to meditate.” Ardun didn’t reply, he was too busy gasping for air. A minute or so later, when the Sith was gone and Ardun was feeling more like himself, a question came to mind. “Why?” Ardun asked aloud. “Why are those files so important?” Lists of thoughts ran through Ardun’s mind, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. He couldn’t figure a good reason a Sith would want files of their apprenticeship gone; didn’t make any sense. As he pondered this, Ardun geared himself up in his fatigues. Loose-fitting clothing and a high powered side-arm made him feel more at home. Still pondering, Ardun moved to the bridge, where he activated the ship’s external cams and began watching the docking bay. Not like anything was going to happen, but it made Ardun feel as if he was doing something. Minutes past as Ardun sat, thinking, watching the cams. Then Vain shouted. “What the-!” The sheer unexpectedness of it scared Ardun, knocking him out of his seat. Which was good, seeing as the explosion coming from the waiting room would have done the same thing. The ship shuddered and Ardun heard the thousand tiny pings and pongs of shrapnel bouncing off the ship’s surface. Before that shrapnel had all fallen, Ardun was moving towards the ship’s exit. Vain caught up with him along the way. The two didn’t speak a word as they exited the ship and raced across scorched ground to Ground Zero. --------- Kaarn was torn. Not literally, of course, the explosion hadn’t been close enough to harm him, but, it did still serve to tear him apart. Coran, or whatever blue-eyed... thing had possessed him had run off in one direction when the bomb had gone off. Kaarn’s instinct was to follow him… but, Gurkgren and Michael were supposed to be in the waiting room. The room that had just blown up. Looking back after Coran, Kaarn saw his quickly retreating form and decided that going towards the explosion was really the only option. Chasing people wasn’t part of Kaarn’s skill-set. Instead he turned back around to the scorched earth where Michael and Gurkgren should have been. It only took him a minute or so before he got there. The emergency crews hadn’t even gotten there yet. The room was scorched a deep black. There were no distinct bodies, but bits and pieces scattered across the room with the occasional larger chunk. At the center of the explosion, where, though Kaarn was unaware of it, Gurkgren had been, there was nothing but ashes. “Guys…” Kaarn muttered, looking over the explosion, wondering. Who had set it? Why? Who had died? And what about Gurkgren and Michael? “Step aside, sir.” One of the spaceport’s few remaining guards asked, having finally arrived to the explosion. Kaarn did as he was told, shaking himself out of his daze. Stepping a few steps back as four or five guards moved in, extinguishers putting out any persistent fires, Kaarn closed his eyes and let his mind work through the problem in his head. “Knew it was a bad idea to ditch the comms…” Kaarn muttered as his mind maneuvered. Then, with the force of a bullet, the obvious idea hit him. In retrospect, it should have been the first thing Kaarn had done. “The cameras, of course,” Kaarn said to himself, rushing over to the nearest terminal; a check-in station for arrivals. It was hacked in about two minutes, and Kaarn had the room’s final minutes up on direct feed in only three minutes more. “Stand down.” Michael’s small voice echoed through the speakers. Though he wanted to shut it off, he couldn’t. Kaarn watched every moment of Gurkgren’s death; saw the rounds rip through his flesh, and the explosion that soon followed. “Had to bring the explosives, didn’t you Gurk?” Kaarn laughed quietly, not in the least surprised, but still sad to see an old friend die. Wasn’t his first time though, and wasn’t going to be his last. “What happened here?” A loud voice boomed from the other room. It was female, and it was angry. Kaarn frowned; there were no female guards in the spaceport. He would know, he had scanned the extensive personnel files when planning this op. Curious, he flitted around the corner to the room, and saw a tall thin woman in skin-tight black clothing. With a lightsaber at her side. And a man in Imperial fatigues to her right. “Stang!” Kaarn hissed, moving back around the corner. “There’s another Sith!” ---------- Alia hated Michael. She had been thinking that thought for a good while now, fuming over it. Michael had left her, tied up, in the closet. “He’s going to pay.” She tried to say through her gag, but it came out as a series of unintelligible grunts. That was when the door opened. Surprised, Alia turned to view her savior. It was Coran, but not Coran, all at once. Well, it looked like Coran… but the eyes. The eyes were two solid blue disks, definatly not Coran’s deep brown eyes. The figure, which, Alia supposed, was Coran, waved its hand and Alia’s bonds simply fell off. The gag simply came out of her mouth. “What the…?” Alia muttered, looking up to thank Coran; who had to be on some sort of drug or something. But, Coran was already gone. Scrambling to her feet, Alia caught the barest glance of Coran, running towards docking bay C6. “Well,” Alia mused, “Whole plan’s gone to hell…” She shrugged, “So why not?” After only a moment, Alia was after Coran’s retreating form. ---------- “What happened here?” Vain boomed, one hand on her lightsaber which was, thankfully, still off. The security officers, all obviously unprepared for this, looked nervously at each other before one of them finally had the courage to speak up. “Uh, ma’am,” The brave officer ventured, “We have no idea what happened here. But who are you? And what are you doing here?” Now that they had a leader to back up, the other three or four officers quickly moved to back up their newfound leader, blasters pointed down but held ready nonetheless. Vain snarled an answer no one heard, and drew her lightsaber; the blade’s deep red lighting up the guard’s petrified faces. “Hey,” Ardun objected, moving in front of Vain, “Put that down!” He ordered, drawing his weapon in a futile gesture of masculinity. “Don’t be a fool, Captain.” Vain said, pushing him aside with a quick force wave. “This is a diplomatic mission!” Ardun shouted, moving between the officers and Vain. Tilting his head slightly, Ardun whispered to the lead officer, “Get out of here.” Before Vain could respond to Ardun’s defiance, the officers were sprinting away. With a shout of rage, Vain made to go after them, but Ardun pulled her back by her shoulder. “What are you doing, Captain?” Vain demanded, slamming Ardun against a nearby wall and moving up into his face. “I am in charge! You will not defy me!” “I did not mean to insult, my lord,” Ardun pleaded, “But I will not stand by and watch innocents be slaughtered! There was no need to fight them!” “There is a need if I wish there to be one!” Vain shouted back, letting Ardun drop to the floor. “You should have just stood back and waited for orders!” “Is that what you were taught?” Ardun yelled back, brandishing his gun, “We are soldiers, not droids to do your bidding! We, I, have minds of our own!” Not responding, Vain simply drew her saber, the crimson red lighting up Ardun’s face. But Ardun’s eyes didn’t leave Vain’s. “Kill me, then.” Ardun said, moving his arms to stand at attention. “See what that accomplishes.” Vain stared into Ardun’s eyes for a long moment, before yelling loudly and slamming him into the wall again with a great force wave and striding away; her lightsaber deactivating. “Consider yourself lucky, Captain.” She said as she strode away, back to the ship. “I knew you couldn’t do it.” Ardun said, just loud enough for her to hear as he picked himself back up; again. “What?” Vain asked, voice deadly, “What did you say?” “You’re not like them.” Ardun said, voice louder now, as he gestured vaguely around the room. “The other Sith. You are similar, but you aren’t one of them.” Vain’s eyes bore into Ardun with a burning hatred. “You try,” He continued, “But you have kindness in your heart, and that makes you better than them.” “Shut up!” She shouted back, and the sound knocked Ardun back a step, as it was imbued with the Force. “Try all you wan-“ Ardun began, feeling like he was getting through to this odd Sith. “No, shut up!” Vain yelled again, distracted, two fingers rubbing her temple, “I sense something powerful, a mighty presence in the Force. And it’s very close.” “Jedi?” Ardun asked, drawing his weapon, all professional. “No.” Vain answered, confused. ---------- Kaarn saw Coran coming back, sprinting, with Alia behind him. Seeing the two blue spheres still in Coran’s eyes, he decided greeting Alia might prove more fruitful. To his surprise, however, as Kaarn waved down Alia, Coran stopped as well. “Kaarn!” Alia cried, coming to a stop next to him. “Michael, he betrayed us!” “I know.” Kaarn said softly, bowing his head, “He killed Gurk, too.” “What?” An astonished Alia asked, her hands going to her mouth. “Yea, I know,” Sympathized Kaarn, running his hands through his fur. Alia, always the professional, glanced at the nearby entrance to the waiting room. “Is it clear?” She asked, giving Kaarn a quizzical look. “It was,” Kaarn spoke, head still down, “But there is a Sith inside. Not sure where she came from, but there is no way we are getting past her.” Biting her lip, Alia stayed silent as she processed the problem. Coran, though, or whatever had possessed him, had perked up at Kaarn’s words. Then, at long last, it spoke. “You,” Came a deep supernatural voice, Coran’s mouth never moving, as Coran’s body pointed at Kaarn, “Get to the ship, do what you must.” Kaarn opened his mouth, part shock, part awe, and made to reply, but Coran had shifted his gaze to Alia. “You,” It said, nodding at Alia, “Come with me.” Coran stood, and spun, moving towards the door. Alia and Kaarn stayed still, shocked, until Kaarn broke them from their stupor. “You heard him.” He said, moving towards the door. Alia shook her head, and then followed them. ---------- “It’s here!” Vain shouted, feeling the immense presence in her mind. Opening her eyes, she saw a young man, around her age, running towards her, solid blue discs for eyes. Igniting her lightsaber, Vain augmented her speed with the Force and accelerated towards the man, who’d stopped several paces from her. She swung towards his head, hoping to end it quickly, but the man blocked her stroke. With his arm. Dazzled, she examined his arm carefully, time moving very slowly under her Force-induced speed. A shining blue aura had engulfed it, a barrier crafted from the Force. Suddenly, she found herself pulled from her slowed down world as the man sent her flying with a Force-augmented punch to the gut. Slowing her descent with the Force, Vain drew upon her inner reaches and summoned a pure blot of Force lightning, flinging it towards her foe. The man, now running towards her once more, jumped, spun in the air, and deflected her attack, sending it off into one of the walls. As the man reached melee range once more, Vain entered into a series of strikes and blows designed to stagger any opponent. Her blade, a swirling column of red, flickered like a snake, darting at the man with no remorse. A whirling image of lights, the man dodged all of her attacks, deflecting any that would come too close with a well-placed barrier. He was unlike any enemy Vain had faced before. Finishing off a trio of combos, Vain shouted, sending a wave of Force energy from her person. The man, at first engulfed, rode the wave several meters away, landing as though he had planned it. Moving to an upright position, the man straightened his left arm and drew his right hand down it, as if he was pulling back the string of a bow. Sure enough, the glittering blue presence of the Force created, from nothing, the tall image of a bow, and the sharp arrow nocked in it. Seeing what it was before it materialized, Vain drew up a cocoon of Force energy around her, a vast swirling ball of dark side energy. The man’s silvery arrow, when released, pierced straight through her shield, piercing her arm. Vain screamed in agony, even though there was no physical wound. The great pain bringing her near unconsciousness, she saw the man nod in satisfaction before he too fell onto the floor, unconscious. As darkness took her in the vast realm on the unconscious, the one emotion that flickered through Vain’s mind was worry. For Ardun. ---------- When the blue-eyed man had entered the room, Ardun had been left wondering how exactly he was going to fight him. He fought with the Force, Ardun had thought, not exactly something guns did well against. Then the furry Bothan had sprinted by, on the way to the ship and Ardun had lined him up in his sights, happy to have something more his speed. Then the woman had punched him in the face. It hadn’t been a direct blow, else Ardun would be unconscious with a broken jaw, but it had been direct enough to knock Ardun off his feet and to throw off his aim. The round meant for the Bothan had bounced off one of the walls harmlessly. The woman staggered for a moment after she punched Ardun, giving the Special Forces captain enough time to recover. Re-aiming his weapon, he drew it to bear on the woman and began firing. Daintily, she dodged his first few rounds and quickly found refuge behind a large couch. Ardun continued firing as he stood back up, hoping to keep her head down. Then his gun had run out of ammo. “Stang!” Ardun shouted, flipping the weapon around and grabbing the barrel end with one hand, just high enough that he wouldn’t be burnt by the hot barrel. As the woman jumped over the couch to reengage, he chucked the weapon at her, catching her by surprise and across the face. Stunned, she was unable to dodge the left hook that came across her face. But she recovered from it nicely. As her body spun right to disperse the force of the punch, the woman lifted herself up by her hands and sent her legs in a deadly curve towards Ardun. Barely sliding away in time, Ardun took several steps back, moving onto more open ground and settling into a defensive stance. “Stang, Coran.” The woman muttered as she walked slowly, over, hands held defensively. “Think you left me the hard one.” Ardun glanced over his shoulder to where the woman was looking and saw the man going toe to toe with Vain. Ah, Ardun realized, he must be Coran. “We don’t have to fight, you know.” Ardun said, meeting the woman’s eyes. “I know.” She replied, flipping her hair behind her head, “You can surrender whenever you want.” “So it’s going to be like that?” “No, I was serious.” The woman said, as she flung a small object at Ardun. Moving out of the way, Ardun still caught what was apparently a knife in the upper thigh. He grunted in pain, his defense stumbling. The woman must have kept the knife in her hair, probably as a pin or something along those lines. Trying to recover from the knife to his thigh, Ardun was easy prey for the woman, who came in like a hawk, kicking Ardun in his left thigh just by the wound, causing him to fall over in pain. “Ah!” He yelled, falling to one knee. Looking up, Ardun was just in time to see the woman’s foot moving towards his face. A second later, Ardun was out cold. ---------- Alia fell to one knee, the Imperial dispatched, to catch her breath. “Ah.” She grunted, gingerly feeling her right shoulder, where one of the bullets had glanced her. It wasn’t bad, but it was close. Alia shuddered when she thought about how close to death she’d been. She was fairly certain that if the soldier hadn’t stopped to try to get her to surrender that she would be dead by now. He knew what he was doing. Retrieving her knife from the soldier’s thigh, Alia looked up to where Coran was finishing off the Sith. As the Sith fell, unconscious, onto the ground, Coran did the same. “Coran!” Alia yelled, running over to him. She didn’t manage to catch him before he hit the ground, but she checked him over when she got there. The blue eyes were gone, and Coran had nothing but a few scrapes and bruises. “You lucky son of a Hutt,” She muttered, grabbing him by his legs and dragging him towards the ship. As they passed the blast doors, Alia made sure Coran was out of the way and then hit the controls, sealing the blast doors behind them in case either of the Imperials woke up. “Kaarn!” She shouted. “How’s it coming?” “It’s coming!” He replied, hard at work just out of view. “Good!” She shouted back, throwing Coran down in front of the ship’s entrance. She stripped Coran of his A-300, and then moved behind one of the landing gears, aiming the blaster at the door. A few moments later, a sharp sizzling and a bright red point of light told her they were running out of time. “Hurry up Kaarn!” She shouted, “The Sith is cutting through!” “I’m hurrying!” He shouted back. And that was when Coran, the real, brown eyed Coran, woke up.
  17. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 9: Recovery “CORAN? WHAT are you doing here?” Kaarn asked, confused and annoyed at the same time. Coran leaned in from his seat next to Kaarn, and Kaarn saw a serious look in his eye. “Look,” Coran said quietly, looking side to side. “I have a bad feeling about this.” “So you’re diverting from the plan because you have a bad feeling?” “No, no,” Coran said, shaking his head in irritation. Then he stopped, took a breath, and then locked eyes with Kaarn. Shuddering slightly under Coran’s intense gaze, Kaarn withheld his comment. “Do you trust me?” Coran asked seriously. For a moment, Kaarn thought about making some form of a sarcastic reply, but he decided against it. “Yes,” he replied simply. “Then trust me when I say that something bad is going to happen, and you need to follow me.” “But how do you know something bad will happen?” Kaarn blurted out, unable to contain his confusion. Coran put a hand to his temple in pain, and snapped back at Kaarn, “I just do. I don’t know how, or why. But I know something bad is going to happen. Just trust me, come on!” “Fine.” Kaarn said, giving in to Coran’s demands. Following Coran out of the waiting area into the vast spaceport itself, Kaarn couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong. This wasn’t the first time Coran had… well, had some “feelings” about the mission. Remarkably, he always seemed to be right, but even armed with that knowledge, Kaarn found it hard to trust Coran when he was like this. He wasn’t himself. He would start rambling, talking of visions and stars. Kaarn would hear the in-depth descriptions of planets galaxies away, hear talk of wars and heroes and Jedi and Sith. And then he would talk about him. The Master, although Kaarn had no idea who that was. He would become the subject of Coran’s “visions”. Describing him as a massive spider weaving a tremendous web, Coran would speak of him with part fear, and part what was almost envy. Then, the episode would pass, and Coran would be back to normal. Kaarn had tried many a time to help Coran deal with it, but it proved too difficult. It was an intangible, something Kaarn couldn’t manipulate, a problem that would leave Kaarn feeling weak and helpless. Musing, Kaarn almost didn’t notice Coran go rigid. Well, until he ran into him, anyway. “Coran?” Asked Kaarn, shaking his friend’s shoulder sharply. His friend’s head jerked around sharply, pushing Kaarn back with some invisible force. But that didn’t concern Kaarn, not at that moment. No, what concerned Kaarn were the two bright blue discs of light that had replaced his friend’s eyes. “Coran?” Came Kaarn’s cautious question. The being in Coran’s body didn’t speak, but looked over Kaarn’s shoulder, at the waiting room for docking bay C6. That was when Kaarn heard a faint ringing in his ears, the dull echo of blaster fire, having long since ceased. Then the waiting room exploded, and all hell broke loose.
  18. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 8: The Heist “CALL OFF,” Kaarn barked into his comm, watching the traffic flowing in and out of the spaceport in front of him. The spaceport was set at the top of a long flight of stairs, and was worth the trip up. It was huge, with over a hundred landing pads available at any given time, and it was spectacular. Murals and holo-ads draped the outside and inside of the spaceport, giving it a surreal feel. “Coran here,” Coran spoke, and Kaarn saw him meld into the traffic moving in and out of the spaceport. “Alia,” Spoke the soft tones of Alia, who felt it necessary only to speak her name. She never had liked all these pre-heist checks. “Gurk!” Called the big Trandoshan. Kaarn couldn’t help but smile. Gurkgren’s enthusiasm could be infectious at times. “And here,” Michael said, his voice fuzzy in the comm, “Figure you can figure out who I am.” “Michael…” Coran said warningly. Even through the white noise in the comm, Kaarn could hear Coran’s silent threat. “Yea, yea, yea, Michael here.” Michael said sarcastically, and Kaarn was sure he was pouting. “Alright then,” Kaarn said to himself, then, speaking directly into his comm, “Do we have eyes on target yet?” “Aye.” Michael said from his position over on one of the spaceport’s higher levels. “Can’t see the Sith, but I see one large group of soldiers escorting someone. Gotta be her.” “Good, how close are they to the exit?” “Very,” Gurkgren, now, spoke, “Now gone.” “Alright then,” Kaarn said, taking a deep breath, “Guess we’re in the clear. Everyone ready?” Miscellaneous roars and grunts of affirmation came from the other members of the group. “See you all on the other side then, people; may the Force be with you. Let’s go.” The comm chatter died down and then went silent. Kaarn dropped him comm on the ground next to him and walked off towards the spaceport. They were all on their own now. ---------- Alia found the maintenance shaft with ease. There was a guard stationed by it, but it was only one guard, Alia thought, a piece of cake. Walking to a nearby closet, she opened the door and let out a small gasp of horror. It was a loud gasp, loud enough to get the guard’s attention, but not too loud as to get everyone’s attention. The guard looked over curiously at her, and, doing the best “horrified” face she could, she pointed into the closet saying, “Officer! Officer! There’s something…” and then trailed off, leaving that “something” to the imagination. The guard rushed over, his hand going to the switch on his arm that activated his comm. He was going to call this in. Alia scowled. Of course this guy would make it harder, guys always seemed to do that. Striding up, and timing it just right, Alia whacked the guard’s hand away from the comm and shoved him into the closet. No one turned an eye at it. Closing the door behind her, it took only a few seconds to incapacitate the guard. Leaving his body in the closet, she carefully slipped out and closed the door on his prone form. She didn’t have the supplies to tie him up, so she’d have to hope he stayed knocked out long enough. As she slowly closed the door, she felt a presence behind her. Spinning around, she prepped herself to face what was likely another guard when… “Michael!” She exclaimed, shaking her head in relief, “What are you doing here?” “Thought you might need a little help.” He said, slowly and steadily, watching her as a scientist would study a bug. “Unless you have something to tie that guard up with, you might as well leave. We’re on the clock, remember?” Michael looked curiously at her, “Yea, I’ve got something to tie him up with, here, help me tie him up,” and then he opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter. Alia entered, and then glared angrily at Michael, “Close that door,” she whispered furiously,” It looks suspicious.” “Apologies,” Michael said, and closed the door. ---------- Kaarn spun through the plan in his head as he moved towards docking bay C6, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Gurkgren, armed with a non-lethal aerial toxin, would incapacitate the entire viewing room of the docking bay. That would enable controls over the docking bay itself, and give them access to the hazardous material alarm switch. Meanwhile, Michael and Coran, the two human males, would distract, incapacitate, and replace the two guards guarding every docking bay. Since this was the VIP docking bay, it would usually be more than that, but they were shorthanded having to escort the Sith, who had arrived twenty minutes ago and had left the building just before their group had entered. Again, at the same time Gurkgren, Coran, and Michael were doing what they were doing. Alia would be placing a series of charges around the ventilation system, which would be part of their distraction. Once all that was complete, Gurkgren would set off the radiation alarm, requiring all maintenance personal and all civilians to leave that docking bay, Alia would set off her charges, giving the remaining security officers something more important to worry about than a radiation leak. Kaarn would move in, hack the ship, and turn on his virus’s remote activation system. Then, they would take off in their very own ship and would blow the fleet’s targeting system when the lasers started flying. They would be home free. As a manner of speaking, of course. “Hmm...” Kaarn mused, “Seems about right.” A passerby looked at Kaarn oddly as he passed, and Kaarn resolved to stop talking so loudly to himself. Moving away, Kaarn grabbed a seat at one of the benches nearby, checking his sightlines as he sat. “Just right,” He muttered under his breath. Kaarn could see the entrance to the docking bay, and had the restrooms right next to him. Kaarn sometimes got nervous right before a heist. Settling down in his seat, Kaarn pulled his data pad from his pocket and pulled up the latest issue of Galactic Times, a famous celebrity reporting agency. “Ah…” Kaarn sighed. He’d always enjoyed reading about the daily lives of celebrities. It always made Kaarn feel better about his life and his job, knowing that stupid people with an excess of money would always exist in this galaxy. A figure sat down next to Kaarn. Not noticing, Kaarn simply continued to flip through his pad, a light smile on his face as he chuckled irregularly. “Kaarn,” The figure spoke, softly, steadily, and deliberately. Snapping his head up, Kaarn looked at the figure with only momentary confusion. “Oh,” Kaarn said curiously, “What are you doing here?” ---------- Gurkgren was in the restroom. It was one of the larger restrooms that locked from the inside and gave a nice amount of privacy. Gurkgren had been in there for a while, but, fortunately, this particular restroom was out of order, so no one had come by. This was just as well, because it could take Gurkgren quite a bit to finish building the detonator. “But they say ‘No Boom’,” Gurkgren hissed lowly, “Ruins fun.” So, for his own personal reasons, he’d installed a large amount of thermite into the casing of the gas device he was assigned to create. It was his own sort of rebellious action against Coran and Kaarn, even though he’d trust them with his life. Gurkgren’s own kind of inside joke. “No boom,’ Gurkgren scoffed again to himself, shaking his head. As he finished the installation of the thermite charge, he examined his work, grinned to himself as only a Trandoshan could, and then scooped up his supplies and dumped them in the incinerator; the best way to recycle your trash. Slinging his bag full of, unfortunately, non-lethal weaponry over his shoulder, Gurkgren left the restroom, being sure to check his corners as he left. It took him only a few minutes to make it to docking bay C6. The crowd was watching him warily, due to his being a Trandoshan, as he entered the landing bay. Well not the bay itself. The bay was guarded by twin guards at the entrance and by a security team in the viewing platform. Outside of that, though, was a small waiting area complete with bar, restrooms, and a lot of seats. Gurkgren made his way to the stairs leading up to the viewing platform, but stopped before he reached there. The guards didn’t smell right. They were not Coran and Michael. But that couldn’t be right, Gurkgren had given them more than enough time to get into position while he was in the restroom. “Not right…” Gurkgren hissed softly, and the guards looked in his direction. Almost as if they had planned it, the guards drew their weapons and raised them at Gurkgren. Roaring, Gurkgren dropped into a defensive stance, dropping his bag of explosives in front of him. It was only then that Gurkgren noticed that the room was empty. There were no waiting civilians, no bartender, no families with their crying children. Just nothing. “Stand down.” A familiar voice came from behind Gurkgren. Turning slowly around and placing his back to the two advancing guards, Gurkgren saw Michael. Armed with a high powered pistol, Michael stood at the front of a five-man security team; each aiming their own blasters at the Trandoshan as they fanned out. For a moment, Gurkgren was stunned. He had no idea what to think. “Michael?” He hissed quizzically, reaching out a hand towards the man he considered a friend. Taking a step back and placing a second hand on his pistol, Michael only repeated his earlier words. “Stand down.” “Oath-breaker!” Gurkgren roared, his anger finally sparking, “Traitor! Traitor!” Then Gurkgren let out a savage hunting roar. The cry was guttural, violent, angry. It spoke of hidden depths and untold hatred. The guards all took a half-step back. Except Michael. “Stand down.” Michael repeated one last time, seeing the bloodthirsty rage building up in Gurkgren’s eyes. Gurkgren didn’t even respond. With another savage roar, he was a blur in the air. Blaster bolts soared, scorching and burning his flesh, but that didn’t matter to Gurkgren; he had only one purpose. Within seconds he was on Michael, and Gurkgren slashed viciously at his throat, going for a kill. Michael rolled his head just enough to avoid death, but not enough to avoid the talons. They sunk deep into his face, leaving four deep red scars in the skin. Gurkgren roared again, even louder than before, and moved to slash again. But the guards had regained their aim. The shots rang out for forty seconds before they stopped. Ten seconds after that, they had Michael out of the room and off to an emergency room. Five seconds after Michael left, the room exploded in a blaze of fire, killing each and every guard who had taken a shot, and destroying what was left of the room. Days later, the investigators would identify a small package of non-lethal toxin mixed with two pounds of thermite as the source of the explosion. Gurkgren had gotten his revenge.
  19. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 7: Briefed “WE ARE assembled, my lord,” Ardun said, standing at attention in front of his squad, Xavier just to his right. The apprentice, still wearing the same tight clothing as before, stood in the far side of the cargo bay, leaning against a wall and sighing, as if bored. “Was that necessary, Captain?” Darth Arctis purred, annoyed, as she came into the cargo bay. “I mean, I am not daft, am I? It is obvious you are assembled.” The last words came out with a certain malice Ardun was unprepared for. “No my-“ Ardun began, but Darth Arctis cut him off; by throwing him into the wall with the Force. Gasping for breath, Ardun slowly came back up to his feet. “Don’t ever insult me again, Lieutenant.” The Darth said, slamming Ardun into the wall again, for good measure. “Lieutenant? My lord? Ardun is a Captain, not a lieutenant.” Xavier asked, trying to keep his face calm in face of the injustice before him. “Not anymore, Captain.” Arctis replied, meeting Xavier’s look with a dangerous glare of her own. “I… understand, my lord.” Said Xavier slowly, unable to keep his eyes from drifting down to Ardun, still pulling himself back onto his feet. “Wonderful,” The Darth said, smiling wickedly and moving into the center of the bay, where she could command full attention; as if that would be a problem for her. “Now,” The Darth began, gesturing vaguely as she began her speech, “This will be a fairly simple… operation,” She spoke “operation” as though it were some vile idea. “I will take this… squad-” Again, the Darth seemed hesitant to use any military terms, as if afraid it would lower her intelligence. “-with me as more of an appearance than anything. I will speak to the Council. I will win Corellia. Then we will be done. Simple, as I said.” The Darth let out a breath and began to walk back out of the cargo bay. The soldiers, still standing at attention, exchanged varied looks of confusion. “My lord?” Xavier spoke, stepping out of place in line to get the Darth’s attention. “Oh, what now?” The Darth said, rolling her eyes, “Haven’t I already given you enough information?” “My lord,” Xavier pleaded, “We only ask for some details so we know how to plan more effective-“ “Shut up,” The Darth said passively, leaving the cargo bay, “Apprentice!” She cried over her shoulder as she walked down the hall, “Humor the soldiers, would you?” The full squad turned to face the apprentice, still leaning in the corner. “Seriously?” The apprentice muttered, pulling herself up from her position at the wall. “Fine then.” They stood there for a moment, Xavier keeping his mouth shut while he waited for the apprentice to address his question and the apprentice not feeling an urge to speak, having not paid any attention to her master’s briefing a few moment ago. “My lord?” Xavier began to ask, about to follow up when the apprentice let out a loud disgusted sigh of annoyance. “My lord this, my lord that, do you even know my name?” The apprentice asked, gesturing out vaguely, as if hoping someone would answer. “It’s Lord Vain, correct?” Ardun asked as Vaughn helped him to his feet. The Sith, Lord Vain, paused for a second, staring curiously at Ardun. “Yes,” She said softly, “How did you know that?” Ardun pushed away Vaughn, getting unsteadily to his feet, “I do my research, besides, you made quite an impact at the academy on-“ Ardun settled into a quick fit of coughing, spraying blood like a fine mist in front of him. “That’s not good,” Vaughn muttered, pulling his first aid supplies out of his pockets and moving to Ardun, “Must have hit the wall harder than I thought.” “I’m fine,” Ardun protested, pushing Vaughn away, but Xavier overrided Ardun’s protests. “No way, lieutenant. Let Vaughn take a look at you.” Xavier said, smiling to himself a little bit. “Very funny,” Ardun coughed, “Don’t let all that authority go to your head.” Xavier was about to retort back, the rift in their relationship bridged, when Lord Vain came striding over. “Step aside,” She spoke to Vaughn as she kneeled next to Ardun. “I’ve taught myself some healing techniques, I should be able to fix this.” Vaughn, after glancing quickly at both Ardun and Xavier, stepped back. “This may take a few minutes,” Lord Vain said, still looking at Ardun with some form of awe, “So ask your questions.” “Yes, my lord,” Xavier said, unconsciously standing at attention. “Will the entire squad be going with Darth Arctis? It would be more prudent to send less with the highly trained Sith and leave the majority of our force here in case an evac is needed.” Lord Vain nodded slowly as she listened to Xavier speak, and then checked a small chrono she wore on her forearm before replying, “There is only about ten minutes left until we enter Correllian space. It will be an additional fifteen minutes or so before we touch down and finally get moving. The Captain, or lieutenant, or whatever here,” She gestured to Ardun, “Will not be fully recovered by then. I will stay behind with him as your guard. Take the rest of your squad with my master.” “Are you sure, my lord?” Xavier asked, feeling as though this Sith would as least be reasonable enough to question, “I can leave our medic behind to let you go with your master.” Vain scoffed loudly, “You think I want to go with her? No, no, I hate my master, I’ll stay behind. Besides, I have a few questions for him.” She pointed at Ardun, who didn’t notice, as he was deep under the effect of the healing trance Vain had induced. “Understood, my lord.” Xavier said before proceeding with his next question, “What exactly will we be doing, out in the field?” Vain didn’t even look up, “Nothing. As long as the negotiations,” Vain said sarcastically, “go well you won’t even have to draw your weapon. If they don’t go well… well you’ll either be taken prisoner or killed on the spot; take your pick.” “Um… understood, my lord.” Looking back and forth between his squad mates, wide-eyed, Xavier motioned towards the far corner of the room, where their equipment was stashed. The squad moved over, all taking careful glances back to where Vain kneeled over Ardun, before Xavier spoke up. “Alright, guys, gear up. Take anything you want, looks like we don’t have much to do but look pretty.” “Or die,” Nicholas muttered, as he grabbed a set of heavy charges and began strapping them onto his body for later use. “Shut up,” Jane said, irritated, as she checked the sights on an assault rifle. Vaughn didn’t move, but watched his fellows gear up, as if in a daze, before finally speaking what was on his mind. “Seriously? We’re just going to go along with this?” “What do you mean, Vaughn?” Xavier asked, preparing to intervene. “Leave Ardun with a Sith!” He whispered harshly, “Who wants to ask him questions! We can’t do that!” “We are going to.” Xavier said, putting a firm hand on Vaughn shoulder, “We are going to have to, unless you want to fight your way through two Sith and perhaps all of Corellia’s defenders to escape. So, we don’t really have a choice right now.” Vaughn closed his eyes, as if visualizing it, “Stang,” He muttered, “You’re right…” “Just hurry up, alright?” Xavier said, moving back to finish gearing up, “We don’t have long before we touch down.” “Yes, sir” Vaughn answered, moving over to his own personal box of supplies; which contained the majority of their medical equipment. “Sir?” Alex asked, toying with a stripped down comlink, “Do you see that?” Alex, who was speaking to Xavier, was pointing towards the front of the ship. Xavier sighed deeply, he saw nothing whatsoever. “No, Alex, I don’t, what is it?” Alex lowered his arm and resumed working on the comlink, quickly fixing the broken device. “Blue, blue light, pure. Soon… the light will come, the conduit. It’s going to intervene. It wants to fix the black spot.” “Alex…” Xavier said slowly, “I understand, but, we need to focus right now, alright?” “Ok,” Alex nodded, throwing the completed comlink at Jane. She swiftly caught it and strapped it onto her armor. “Not a problem. It won’t be near us, but Ardun should know. The light will shine on him, and the Sith too.” Ah, Xavier thought, years of old psychological training coming in, “Don’t worry,” Xavier reassured, “I’m worried about Ardun too.” The ship shook and the passengers braced themselves as the ship broke from hyperspace. “Alright, men!” Xavier shouted, his voice becoming mechanical as he put on his helmet, “Get to the landing port, let’s move out!” Vain watched them leave, slowly, and then stared down at Ardun, curiously, “How did you know about me?” She muttered to herself, mind racing.
  20. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 6: Plots CURIOUSLY, MICHAEL watched Alia leave their hideout through his peripheral vision, but quickly shrugged it off. It was of no concern to him, not at the present anyway. “What you think?” Gurkgren asked him, holding a high velocity sniper rifle in his hand, quizzically. “It’ll work just fine, Gurk,” Michael lied, feeling a headache start to come on. It was ironic, almost. After the first few weeks with the band, he had adjusted to everything nicely. It had been a smooth integration. However, now that he was reaching the end, it had become difficult again. Sighing, Michael rubbed his temples and thought about the one thing that always cheered him up. The promotion he would receive when he finally ended his time undercover and arrested this particular band of thieves. That thought, of course, dredged up his rather memories of being assigned this task in the first place. It had been around eight years ago when, Michael, a rising star in the Cor-sec ranks, had been taken aside to partake in a special job. Naturally, Michael had been ecstatic to start. Little did he know just how much undercover work he’d be facing. “This group,” His CO, John Holmes, had said to him so many years ago, “Is probably the most skilled group of thieves I have encountered in my time at Cor-sec. And they are nothing more than teenagers.” The CO had laughed tremendously at that, as if it were some bad joke. “They leave no trace, don’t seem to spend any of the marked bills we’ve used, and have managed to incapacitate anyone who finds them. We’re in a bind, Michael, but I think you can help.” “How, sir?” His CO had pulled a file from his desk and had quickly flipped through it. “We recently identified the ringleader, not that it helps much, but on scanning his file, I noticed that you two had gone to school together.” Pulling out a picture of Coran, his CO had shown it to Michael. “Look familiar?” “Yes, sir,” “Good, because you’re going to be their new playmate.” So had begun a long five months of rigorous training and study. Before Michael had known it, he was saying his goodbyes and hitting the road. Within a week he’d found the ring. Within a month he was their newest recruit. By the time Alia joined the group a year or so later, Michael found himself in too deep. It wasn’t that he felt a connection to them, not really. Michael had always been cold-hearted, and this was merely an extension of that. No, it was the sheer closeness between them all. You couldn’t do anything without everyone knowing about it. Michael had found himself at a loss. He couldn’t contact his handlers, and they couldn’t contact him. The whole point of going undercover had just been rendered moot. So, Michael waited, patiently, for his chance. Once or twice, he been able to get word out about an incoming heist, but they still, miraculously, managed to evade capture. Until now. A few months ago, when warning Cor-sec about another impending heist during a lucky break he’d caught, Michael had received word from his CO. Execute Plan 6 Plan 6, one of 22 contingency plans Michael had been required to memorize before going undercover, was simple. Michael was to break cover, and arrest or kill all possible targets. It was the plan most often executed by Cor-sec, mainly when deep cover missions had gone on too long and Cor-sec wanted to pull the plug. For the past two weeks, Michael had waited for his chance, but hadn’t found it. Until now. The coming heist would be the perfect chance to deal with this particular group. Michael had planned it all out while Kaarn had explained his plan. It would be clean and effective. Each member of the group was alone at some point in time in the mission. Michael would simply take them down one by one until it was all done. The perfect plan, Michael thought. “How this?” Gurkgren asked again, holding up a Mer-Sonn tech laser guided thermal missile launcher. “There are no words, Gurk,” Michael said, telling the full and honest truth.
  21. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 5: New Players “MY LORD, May I ask what exactly the operation is?” The young Imperial captain Lucian Ardun asked, trying his best to keep his calm, even though that was becoming progressively more difficult. Darth Arctis, one of the members of the Dark Council, whose authority was second to only the Emperor himself, rolled her eyes. The captain was determined, she’d give him that. But that still didn’t mean she was going to indulge the young captain. No, she would make her apprentice do it. “Please direct all questions to my apprentice and leave me in peace… captain.” Arctis said, coldly and quietly, somehow managing to make Ardun’s title sound like an insult. Before Ardun could respond, the Darth mentally shut the door in his face, nearly slicing off his nose. A quiet chuckle came from behind Ardun at this; “Looks like she’s giving you the cold shoulder, boss,” “Oh, can it, Xavier,” Ardun said, walking away from the closed door, his second-in-command, Jack Xavier, right on his heels. “Come on, sir, you have to admit that was good.” Xavier said, increasing his pace to walk side-by-side with Ardun. “I don’t find making puns about a Darth’s name very funny. You know what they do to people, don’t you? I heard one executed an officer because he looked funny. That’s all. This is serious.” Ardun replied, moving slightly ahead of Xavier and leading him towards the rear of the vessel they were on, where the Darth’s apprentice, Lord Vain, was quartered. “Can’t be all bad. After all, they got us stationed on this nice cushy op running numbers. Nice break from the whole galaxy-spanning war and all.” Flashing a grin, Xavier wiggled his eyebrows at Ardun, and Ardun couldn’t help but smile. Xavier had to be the only soldier Ardun had ever met who enjoyed cushy jobs. Or at least admitted that he did. “I don’t know,” Ardun replied, “It’s all too cloak and dagger. If they wanted us just running numbers, then why won’t they tell us what it is for? And you don’t send a Dark Council member to oversee something this low priority. In fact, they wouldn’t send us for something this low priority either. I mean think about it.” Taking a breath and looking over at Xavier, Ardun saw a look of serious contemplation on his face. “You have a point.” Xavier admitted. “It is a bit much to send a Special Forces group like ours out on this kind of duty.” Ardun, Xavier, and the four other members that made up their group had been wandering Imperial space for the past two months collecting random, seemingly spur-of-the-moment, readings and data. “Want me to do a little investigating of my own, boss?” Xavier asked callously, as though he was offering to pick up some milk from the store. Ardun didn’t reply, but made a slicing gesture across his throat, pointing towards a door in front of them. Xavier frowned for a second, but quickly got the message and shut up. “Wait here,” Ardun said quietly, motioning to the side of the door. Xavier took up the position, his hand going unconsciously to the sidearm he wore on his thigh. Ardun straightened his back, smoothed his clothes, and then made to knock at the door. “Enter,” Came a smooth, chilling voice. Ardun stopped. He hadn’t even knocked yet. “Um... Yes, ma’am” Ardun hit the switch and the door slid open to give him access. But Ardun still didn’t step forward. Mainly because he couldn’t see anything. The room was pitch black, none of the corridor lights seeming to offer any illumination. “I said ’Enter’. Would you defy my orders?” The threat was clear. Ardun stepped inside the darkness. The door slid shut behind him. All went silent. It was as if he had stepped into another world, Ardun thought, trying to find some sort of bearings. But the task was futile. There was nothing at all to be seen. “Ma’am?” Ardun called out softly, feeling fear grip his stomach. “I am a lord. Address me as such!” The voice cried, the tone rippling anger. “Yes, my lord.” Ardun said, trying to bow, but finding it difficult when he couldn’t see the ground. “Better. Why are you here?” “Your Master, Darth Arctis, instructed me to direct any questions to you.” Ardun could have sworn he heard the voice sigh. “Of course she did.” As the voice spoke those words, the darkness seemed to fall away. Within a few moments, Ardun could see again. The room was not dissimilar to any other on the ship. A bed, desk, and closet, combined with a little floor space. Simple, Spartan, and easy to keep clean. Just like the Imperial military liked it. The difference with this room was that there was a Sith Lord standing in front of him. Looking up slightly to get a view of this mysterious apprentice, whom the crew had never even seen get on the ship, Ardun let out a small gasp. A short, brown, pixie-cut hairstyle accented yellow eyes and a magnificent smile. Below that she wore a tight-leather jumpsuit, similar to the covert ops gear Ardun and his team would wear. Light, practical, flexible, with the added benefit of showing off her curves. On her feet, she wore a pair of light boots, with, surprisingly, no heels. Ardun had thought it a requirement that female Sith had to wear heels. He was glad to be proven wrong. “I don’t suppose my Master even told you my name, did she? Of course she didn’t- infernal woman.” Not even realizing that she had been talking, Ardun shook his head and tried to focus. “Well, did she?” “Um…” Ardun said, unsure as to the question, ”No, my lord.” Came the bluff. The Sith made some sort of displeased hissing noise, then spoke, “Fine then, what question did my Master delegate me to answering?” The Sith spoke to Ardun as if he were an especially irritating scab that she was desperate to be rid of. “The nature of this mission, my lord. The men and I were wondering-“ “No,” The Sith snapped, “You don’t wonder, you don’t think. You follow orders. Now leave, your question has been answered.” Sighing, Ardun stood and left the room, hearing the door slam behind him. These Sith really seemed to enjoy doing that. “Well?” Xavier asked, falling in line behind Ardun as they began going towards the cargo bay, where the rest of the squad was holed up. “We need to stop thinking, apparently.” “Seriously, boss? And you let them get away with that kind of answer? What’s up with you?” Xavier swung Ardun around to look him in the eyes. “You aren’t the same boss that dragged my stupid head away from the massacre on Taris, or took that sniper round for me on Alderaan! That guy would have put the Sithy into a headlock and asked them to give up the karking info!” Unable to look up, Ardun stared unfeeling at his shoes. “It’s these Sith, Xavier.... I never told you, did I?” “What?” “My father never died in battle. He was executed by a Sith after a huge victory, one of the Empire’s greatest, because he didn’t follow the plan. Because he saved thousands of lives by defying a Sith’s suicide run. Because he asked for the karking answer!! That’s why, Xavier, alright?” His voice had grown steadily louder the more he had spoken, until it was almost a yell. “Sorry… sir.” Xavier said, turning and walking away towards the cargo bay. Even knowing he should apologize for snapping like that, Ardun chose to stay silent, following Xavier to the cargo bay. Xavier, thankfully, didn’t slam the door in Ardun’s face as he came through. “What did they say?” The older, more experienced voice of Vaughn, the squad medic, grunted. “Nothing, apparently…” Xavier grumbled, picking up his gun, a custom job, and beginning to dismantle it. Glaring at Xavier, Ardun did his best to make it sound the best he could. “They said we are on a need to know basis and that-“ “We don’t need to know? Figures,” Nicholas, the demolitions expert, muttered sarcastically. “Pay up, Vaughn.” Vaughn rolled his eyes and threw a credit chip at Nicholas. Laughing to himself, Nicholas spoke, “Shouldn’t have made that bet, old man.” “And maybe I shouldn’t have patched up your eye on Mustafar,” Vaughn quipped, his tongue remarkably agile given his age. “Shut it, you two.” Ardun yelled, drawing their attention, finally pulled out of his stupor. “We still have work to do. Vaughn, go collect the readings from the southern sensors. Nicholas, help him out, and keep the chatter to a minimum, would you?” “Yes sir,” Vaughn said, getting to his feet and stretching. “Shutting up, sir,” Nicholas said sarcastically, venom in his voice. Simply shaking his head in annoyance, Ardun waved the two out of the room. “We need to put a reign on Nicholas’ tongue. He’s too much of a smart-*** for his own good.” Xavier, still working on his weapon, didn’t reply. Ardun glared at him for a second or so, then blew out an irritated sigh. “Xavier.” “Sir?” “That’s all; just ‘sir’?” “Yes, sir,” “Fine, go out and find Alex for me. I need to talk to him.” “Yes, sir,” Then Xavier left the room, leaving Ardun alone with his thoughts. “Eck,” Ardun muttered, sitting against the wall. This operation was just getting better and better. All because of those cursed Sith. Oh, did he hate Sith. They were a blight on the Empire, as far as he was concerned, a nasty, backstabbing, evil, maleficent, disgusting, corrupting, awful- “Sir, is there a reason you wanted us alone?” Came a small voice from near Ardun. Ardun jumped up, blaster in hand, panicked. “Who? What?” He said, looking for the source of the voice. Then, in the corner of the room, where a small section had been blocked off with some linens to give that squad member some privacy, Jane, the squad’s new rookie, came walking out. “Sir? Don’t you remember me?” Jane asked, crossing her arms and looking, annoyed, towards Ardun. “Stang, Jane, don’t do that.” Ardun gasped, putting away his weapon. “Do what?” “That- never mind.” “So, was there a reason you wanted us alone?” “No, sorry, didn’t know you were in here. But, while I have you, go check on the northern sensor; see if anything has been picked up.” “Yes, sir,” Jane responded enthusiastically, heading out the door. Ardun watched her retreating form and wondered how she was fitting in. Jane, the new recruit, was subject to the usual hazing newbies experienced, along with an additional amount because of her gender. With Vaughn as old and serious as he was, Ardun doubted they would make much of a connection. No, she was too radical. Nicholas was, well, Nicholas, and though he had probably hit on her dozens of times by now, Ardun couldn’t see much friendship happening there. At least not for a while. Xavier was always a possibility, Ardun mused, and the two had similar personalities. They might get along well. Then there was Alex, their eccentric genius. Ardun twisted the thought around in his mind for a moment before dismissing it. Alex was brilliant, yes, funny, yes, but he also had just enough crazy that people could never really understand him. So, maybe not someone Jane would fit in with too well. She probably would have trouble even understanding him. Sometimes even Ardun had trouble talking to him, but, given Alex’s history, Ardun was fine with that. Alex had been on the fast track towards great fame in the military, in fact, in the Empire, until a Jedi had gone into his mind, attempting to stop him from doing something or another. While no one knew exactly what had gone on in their minds, the general consensus was that Alex had parried the Jedi’s mental assault and had been working his way into the Jedi’s mind when the Jedi was shot down. The proximity to the dying mind had put Alex in a mental hospital for several months before he had recovered enough to do field work. But he was knocked off his fast track and sent to Special Force instead; the dumping ground for brilliant failures. “Sir,” Ardun heard from behind him, snapping him from his train of thought. Turning on his heel, Ardun saw Xavier leaning on the wall, Alex standing next to him, arguing fiercely with his small droid companion. Alex had built the little droid after his incident, so it was as deranged as he was. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem, as no one could understand what it said, since it spoke only in Huttese, the native language of the Hutts. “Thanks, Xavier.” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, Ardun decided to send Xavier off. He was still angry, might not be best he heard what Ardun needed to talk with Alex about. “Hey, Xavier, go to the northern sensor for me, make sure Jane is doing what she should be, I need to talk to Alex alone.” With only the shadow of a question in his eyes, Xavier nodded and left without a word. Ardun shook his head and made a mental note to sort things out with Xavier. Xavier had always had a bad habit of shutting down when he was even the slightest bit angry. That was why he’d sent him off to check on Jane, in the hopes she’d be able to talk to him. Enthusiastic recruits could often have a good effect. “Eu chutta, mubaba tu kata,” Alex said conversationally to his droid. The droid, nicknamed “Sparky” by the squad due to his occasional habit of shooting sparks from his circuits, responded in kind, with something that sounded sarcastic, even though Ardun personally doubted droids could be sarcastic. “Alex?” Ardun said softly, trying to get his attention. Alex spun around and seemed to just notice Ardun for the first time, “Oh, Boss! Good to see, knee, tree, three, tea, pea, free. Did you have something to, sue, lou, new, q.” Ardun stopped Alex before he could go any further. When Alex had been commissioned into his squad, he had been told about his symptoms. No details, just enough to know how to deal with him. They had told him Alex could go off like this, be unable to talk unless he rhymed, and in that case it was best to keep him quiet. Ardun had heard of mental disorders similar to that, but when he had mentioned this to the doctors they had disregarded him. Apparently his symptoms were, as a result of their cause, directly influenced by the Force. They would be unlike anything ever seen before. This is why Ardun had always wondered why they had sent Alex back into the field. It seemed so dangerous, so reckless. If Alex had an incident during a firefight, everyone could get killed. But then, that fit just fine with standard Sith experiments. Throw a bomb amidst the men and watch what happens. “Alright Alex, listen up now,” Ardun said, leaning close. Alex’s mouth opened as if to speak, but Ardun stopped him. “No, don’t talk, listen. I have something I need you to do…” ---------- Xavier was angry. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite sure why. Sure, Ardun had ticked him off, sure, the stupid assignment was starting to grate on him, but that was no reason to just suddenly snap, Xavier scolded himself. “Ugh,” He muttered, rubbing his hand over his forehead. He’d have to see about working things out with the captain. It was a bad idea to have your two commanding officers giving each other the cold shoulder. As Xavier approached the southern sensors, he saw the figure of Jane off in the corner, recording readings into the ship’s systems. She was attractive, certainly, but it had been a long time since Xavier had, well, had feelings for someone else. And that “someone else” had left some pretty deep scars. Besides, Xavier told himself, it was for the best. All things considered, taking the wrong step would lead to being discharged from the military, from his status in the Empire, and would probably get him killed, knowing what the Sith did with loose ends. So, for the best, Xavier thought, even though he knew he didn’t mean it. “How goes it?” Probed Xavier; leaning casually on the guard rail near Jane and staring out the viewport into the vast space beyond. “Oh, sir,” Jane said, surprised, turning around and snapping to attention, “Sensor readings are almost fully recorded, sir.” Laughing a little to himself, Xavier turned to look at Jane, “At ease, soldier, no need for formalities here. Haven’t you learned that yet?” “With respect, sir, I do not believe that is a good lesson to learn. Besides, I have acted so for several months aboard this ship without any problems, which begs the question; why is it so concerning now?” Again, Xavier had to laugh to himself. This woman could see right through him. “Because, you’re one of us now, well and true. And because I need someone to talk to; and I would prefer it if that person would stop calling me ‘sir’” “Oh,” Jane said, a little taken aback, “Well, sorry sir, no wait.... sorry... umm, what do I call you?” “Call me Jack. Xavier can be a bit of mouthful sometimes.” “Ok, si-, Jack,” “See, you’re getting better already,” “So, Jack,” Jane said, standing rigidly beside him, “What was it you wanted to talk about?” “Eh,” Xavier, or, Jack, shrugged, “Dunno, I’ll think of something. In the meantime, anything you have to say?” “No, Jack,” Sighing heavily, Jack rolled onto his back, put his hands behind his head, and looked up at Jane from his prone position on the ground. “No? Really? Not even one question about Nicholas’s ability to annoy everyone? Not even about Alex? I’m impressed. I asked Ardun all those questions and more when I joined up.” Looking straight at her, Jack saw Jane’s brows furrow and her lips mouth the word ‘Ardun’ and he couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. Of course she hadn’t learned the Captain’s name yet. “Ardun is the Captain,” Jack explained quickly. “Ah,” She said, and that was all she said. They stayed quiet for a moment, until Jack, of course, decided to break the silence. “Fine then, if you won’t ask a question I’ll have to do so for you.” Jack said, sitting up. “Wait, what do you-“Jane began, before Jack cut her off. “Nope, I ask the questions now, you had your chance. Alright then,” Jack said, rolling his elbows and cracking his knuckles. Then, in a rather poor approximation of Jane’s voice, he said, “Oh, sir, might I ask why Nicholas can be such a twit?” Switching back to his regular voice, Jack grinned at Jane, and then answered, “Oh, Jane, I’m glad you asked. It’s a simple answer really. Nicholas can be such a twit because he works with explosives, and you have to have a few wires loose to do that kind of work.” Jane looked almost confused. “Si- Jack, that answer makes no sense, loose wires and-“ “Just let it go and laugh a little, huh? I mean, what’s being a soldier about if you can’t mock everyone else? Not like we do anything else.” “It’s about working for the greater good, sir.” Jane said angrily, putting emphasis on the word ‘sir’. “Greater good?” Jack mocked. “There is no such thing. We’re only here to die when our wonderful Sith overseer deems the time right.” He spat, sarcasm bleeding from his voice. “There is no good in what we do,” “I’m sorry, but no. You are wrong, sir. Good soldiers die, good men, die every day protecting this Empire. That is not something to mock! Sir!” Jane started walking away, and she was almost to the doors when Xavier spoke again. “Shut up.” Jane snapped around, “Excuse me? I will not shut up, sir.” “Do you even know what you’re talking about?” Xavier asked wondrously, standing up and moving towards her. “Yes, sir,” She said again, once more emphasizing her use of the word ‘sir’. “I know exactly what I am talking about.” And with that, she was gone. Closing the door to the northern senor room behind Jane, Jack sighed. “Just keep messing everything up, don’t I?” He muttered to himself. Then, slowly, he moved back to the sensors, there was still work to do. ---------- Ardun was watching Alex work when he heard, rather than saw Jane stride passionately by the entrance to the cargo bay. He could practically feel the anger coming off her. “Guess I’d better deal with this,” He muttered, moving over to Alex. “Alex, I’ll be back, ok?” But Alex didn’t hear him, so lost was he in his work. Shrugging lightly, Ardun left in search of Jane. He found her in the mess hall, grabbing an early lunch. Ardun walked over and sat across the table from her, saying nothing. Eventually, after a few minutes, Jane spoke; “What is it, sir?” “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Ardun said quietly, looking at Jane as she looked away, focusing on her food. They stayed silent for a few more minutes, until Jane stopped eating, putting her fork down by her unfinished food. That was when Ardun knew she was ready to talk. “Does he ever take anything seriously?” Ardun didn’t need an explanation. He knew exactly who she was referring to; after all, who else could it be? “Yes,” “Then what? Because he just... I don't know... he just insulted... everything! Everything I believed...” She trailed off, realizing how naïve that sounded. “Everything? Impressive.” “Well, maybe not everything…” Jane said, moving away her food and putting her head on the table. “You know,” Ardun said, tapping on the table to get her to raise her head. “I find your first comment to be somewhat surprising. Because Xavier does take this very seriously. In his own way.” “With respect, sir, I find that hard to believe.” “Ah, using ‘sir’ again. You must be feeling better. And you never gave him a chance to explain, did you?” “Well…” Jane sighed, “No, I didn’t. Sir.” “Then let me tell you a story. Come on.” Ardun said, gesturing to the door. Jane, always the soldier, obeyed, following Ardun to the comm room. Once they reached there, Ardun pulled a small holochip from his pocket. A trinket he always kept on him. Inserting it into the terminal, the whole room sparkled with a familiar blue light. The chip contained a video Ardun had saved from the massacre at Taris, when he’d first met Xavier. When he’d rescued him from among the hundreds of corpses. But he didn’t tell Jane that, he just let her watch as the blue haze turned into tangible footage, scenes played out from Ardun’s armor cam. Even though he had the video memorized, Ardun still watched it, as if trying to find some secret forgiveness hidden inside. “-lieutenant, we’ve got hostiles on the ground. I repeat, the LZ is hot, be advised.” That was Cenusa, one of Ardun’s old commanding officers, back from when he was younger. He had been feeding him the last field report from Xavier’s platoon; the 107th. They had called for evac, and Ardun’s squad had been sent in with a fleet of low-atmo gunships to comply. “Copy that, sir” Ardun heard himself say, the voice much younger, much more naïve. Then the young Ardun proceeded to give out orders to the rest of the squad, all fresh faced recruits, just like him. As the gunship reached the evac point, Ardun looked away as the men dropped from the ship into the field of bodies. The stench had permeated even their helmet seals, and Ardun could still smell it. The bodies were Imperial, Republic, Rakghoul, Pirate… anything, really, that could die… None of them had faced the monsters that inhabited Taris before. None of them were prepared for the Rakghouls. Horrifying beasts they were, great green apes with unseen eyes and slick flesh. But that wasn’t the worst part. No… the screams were the worst part… Even hearing the sound from the terminal behind him made him shudder, even though it had been several years since. In a few seconds, he heard another scream. The human scream. As he heard each scream, Ardun checked another name off his mental list, noting another death, another fallen soldier. Ardun could hear Jane’s gasps as she watched the carnage unfold. Ardun couldn’t bring himself to watch the slaughter, the massacre, the bloodied ground, and the mutilated corpses. Then, he heard Xavier’s voice, heard their first conversation, weaved with curses and yelling. It felt like hours, but then it was over. Xavier and Ardun, the only two survivors, speeding away, a fleet of gunships sending off suppressing fire behind them. Ardun shut off the terminal. “I hope this makes things a little clearer.” Jane didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stood, staring. “I’ll leave you be.” Ardun said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He’d let everything sink in, and then talk to her later. As Ardun pieced together what he would say, what he would tell her, the ship’s internal comm system activated. “Captain,” Barked Darth Arctis’s voice, “To the bridge, now.” Sighing, Ardun made his way to the bridge, where Darth Arctis waited impatiently. A minute or so later, when Ardun walked onto the bridge, the Darth glared at him briefly before speaking, a sharp cold phrase, “You’re late,” She said, gesturing for him to sit down. “Apologies, my lord,” Ardun said, taking a seat as the Darth stood up. She didn’t even seem to notice Ardun’s apology, simply moving into what she wanted to say. “You are to gather your men and my apprentice in the cargo bay for a briefing. We should be making the jump to hyperspace any second now and I want to go over your instructions, understood?” As she spoke, the ship lurched horribly. Looking out the glass panes behind him, Ardun saw the star lines appear, the signature of a hyperspace jump, and let his brow furrow slightly with worry. “My lord, if you don’t mind me asking, where are we going?” Darth Arctis smiled, a ugly, horrible thing, and spoke softly, “Why, to Corellia, dear Captain, we have an appointment we shouldn’t miss.”
  22. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 4: Leaving “YOU SKIPPED practice, and got chewed out for it, didn’t you? I knew it!” Katie, one of Natalya’s oldest friends, cried out in jest. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” Natalya said smugly, smiling back at Katie. Katie shook her head vigorously before she replied. “No, you did. Otherwise you’d be complaining about Drall’s speeches again. He gave one this morning to your class, or so I heard, something about the ‘power of words.’” Katie said mockingly, knowing her old friend too well. “Seriously?” Moaned Natalya, giving up on her act, “That old fart needs to give up already. Maybe die and spare us the agony of listening to him.” “Ha! I knew it! You did skip practice, didn’t you?” Excited now, Katie boisterous energy caused several nearby objects in the corridor they were walking down to levitate into the air slightly. “Calm down Katie, you’re doing it again.” Katie spun around and glared at the offending objects, and they quickly crashed down to earth, as if fearing her wrath. “But, yea, I did.” “Oohh…” Katie said mischievously, looking at her friend. “Who did they send to bring you back? Was it Tryce? Or maybe Jon?” Natalya laughed and shook her head at her friend. Jon and Tryce were two of the younger, and more attractive, elders at the compound. They were young, for elders; the teachers of their order, twenty eight and twenty six respectively. But Natalya herself was only twenty four, and the age difference there was small enough to be easily ignored. “No, they sent Goll. One of the big-name seekers, remember? The one who found me?” Seekers were the agents of the Master, men and woman who scoured the galaxy for both the Chosen and ancient secrets to bring back. “Oh, him? He’s a withered old husk, I’m sorry for you Natalya, it must have been awful.” “Not too bad actually, though he smelt like old… y’know, I’d think you’d know my answer by now? This is, what, the seventh or eighth time this year I left and Goll brought me back. Shouldn’t you know what I’m going to say by now? Katie smiled at her friend and laughed, “Of course I do. But so little happens around here it’s nice to hear your story again, even if it is the same old one.” Natalya was about to comment on that, but Katie cut her off. “Here we are.” Looking up, Natalya realized that, yes; they had made it back to their dormitories. She was slightly disturbed that she hadn’t realized how far they’d walked, but shrugged off the feeling quickly. “Home sweet home,” she muttered before following Katie inside the wing. ---------- Meanwhile, in the upper levels of the compound, Goll was walking, determined, to the hanger bay, a small slip of parchment, an authorization for a ship from the Master, in his hand. Upon reaching the bay, he slipped quietly in, striding across the massive room to the staircase at the back, which led up to the docking control. As he strode, Goll examined the ships their Order had collected over the years, trying to determine which one would best fit his requirements. There was a Defender class Republic transport, which Goll quickly dismissed as too… lavish. The X-780B Phantom, one of the rarest finds they had, having stolen it from an Imperial Intelligence prototyping site, met the same fate as the Defender, that of being too lavish. Goll paused for a moment when he reached one of their several Fury class Imperial Interceptors before he found a word to describe his distaste for the ship. Overrated. Yes, that was it. It was only when Goll saw the D5-Mantis Patrol Craft covered in scrap parts in a corner that he decided. It was perfect. Unassuming. It almost looked like a hunter, a great bird of prey, and it was just magnificent. Of course the dock officer completely disagreed with Goll’s assessment of the ship, but when he heard Goll planned to take it, and use it, then he was completely on board. Ships were a rare commodity, and the one form of technology created by the Forceblind that Goll could stand. No one here in the compound liked to give out ships easily, so when the dock-officer saw him taking the piece of crap, he was more than happy to let him have it. After all, even a skilled mechanic wielding the power of the Force cannot fix everything. ---------- Natalya was meditating on her bed, Katie giving her the latest gossip, the different couples and romances going on within the Order, when Goll came in. It was an awkward scene, the tall, broad, Zabrak towering over the two women, dressed in their own lounge wear. It was almost comical, except for the horrified expressions on the faces of the two women. Though, Goll though, in retrospect, they had probably thought he was coming to punish them. “Natalya,” Goll graveled lowly, “I have news from the Master.” The two woman, conditioned through the years, automatically slipped to the floor and fell to their knees, bowing in the presence of the Master’s wishes. For, in their Order, he was everything. “You may rise, such deference is unnecessary.” Goll said, irritated. He’d spent so much time away from the compound that he’d forgotten some of the customs. Especially the irritating ones. “What does the Master order?” Natalya asked, head bowed like Katie, still showing deference even though told not to. Goll was about to order them to raise their heads, but decided against it, rolling his eyes. Sometimes, he thought to himself, sometimes I question my place here. “You, Natalya,” Goll said, pointing to her to reiterate his point, though the action was useless. “Are to pack your bags and come with me. Your training is to be continued elsewhere.” “What?” Natalya blurted, forgetting deference and looking up, straight at Goll. “What do you mean?” “I mean exactly what I said.” “And what does that mean?” Goll looked at her curiously, and then decided to ignore her question. “You’ll have time to prepare and say goodbye. Meet me at the docking bays in three hours and we will depart.” Goll, uncomfortable with the response to his statements, walked out after he said this, unsure of quite what to do. A few minutes later, the woman were still sitting there, dumbfounded. “He can’t do that, can he?” Katie asked quietly. “I guess he can…” Natalya said, mutely, “I should probably pack,” “No!” Katie remarked, “You can’t just go! You’re my friend!” “I’m sorry, Katie…” Natalya said, quietly, moving to pack her stuff. Katie, watching her friend resign herself to the inevitable, scoffed lightly. She, for one, would not stand for this. Striding out of the room, resolve set, the objects nearby floated for a moment, given life by Katie’s fury, and then crashed down, shattering on the ground.
  23. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 3: Unexpected Turns "THAT'S IT?" Michael asked, slightly stunned. "It's that simple?" "Simple plans are usually the best ones," Coran replied, though the look on his face said he was rather skeptical as well. "Would you guys stop questioning my plans?" Kaarn asked irritably, crossing his arms and letting his fur tremble slightly. "We sorry. But life-blood important. Should be cautious when so close to spilling it." The accented Basic came from the cots above, where Gurkgren was lying comfortably. "He means that we're all just a little wary," Coran said, trying to smooth over Gurkgren's blunt approach. "The stakes are rather high this time." "Well, if my opinion means anything, I like the plan." This was Alia, who'd always felt that simple plans were the best. Mainly because they gave her room to improvise. "Mean little." Gurkgren grunted, shrugging in what was almost an apologetic air towards Alia. "Gee, thanks," Came the sarcastic reply from Alia, with what was both venom and humor. But, glancing over at Coran she saw the steer look he was giving her, and knew what it meant. Don't. Not wanting to cause problems, Alia decided to make sure Gurkgren knew she was kidding, in the most obvious way possible. "Kidding, Gurkgren," "No understand 'kidding', but still forgiven." With that, Gurkgren hissed lowly in what Alia had come to know as his form of a laugh. "Alright, alright," Coran said, raising his voice so everyone would listen, "We still have a good thirty minutes left until the ship arrives, so let’s get packing. Once we leave we're never coming back, so grab whatever you want to keep." For their little band, that was an easy request. Aside from the tools of their trade, no one really had any personal items. Living on the streets, they'd never truly grown up with anywhere to call home, and Michael, the odd one out, had no wish to remember his home. So it was that anything personal or special they had was usually one of their tools or weapons. Alia, who'd been on the streets longer than anyone else and, even after all these years, was still paranoid, had her bag already packed and was just retrieving it when she saw Coran talking quietly and intensely with Kaarn over by the holo. She saw Kaarn gesturing in what seemed like anger and Coran trying to placate him. Their apparent argument went on for a few seconds, incredibly quietly, and then Coran grabbed his stuff and left through the tunnel he had come through just an hour or so earlier. She tried to hold back her curiosity, but she had never been good at that and before she knew it she was walking over to Kaarn, gear slung over her shoulder. "Where did he go?" She asked, roughly, reaching out a hand towards Kaarn. "Where do you think?" Kaarn replied bitterly, shaking his head, "Back to the memorial. He just won't let it go! He's still deluding himself over his parent’s deaths. It's not healthy, and…" Kaarn took a breath, throwing his hands up exasperatedly, then, suddenly, his anger reignited. "And damn it, he won't listen to me!" Kaarn sat down. "At least with computers, machines, I can fix them, the problem is always right there... tangible... fixable. But people… people just don't understand when something’s wrong." It was clear this was not the first time Kaarn and Coran had argued over this, Alia could tell. It was a testament to their friendship that they were still friends after stuff like this. "You have a way with computers," Alia said, soothingly, "But I'm better with people, let me talk to him, alright?" She wasn't sure why she offered, but it seemed like the right thing to do. "Then don't just stand here." Kaarn said quietly, "Go after him." Alia turned and made to leave out the tunnel. Gurkgren and Michael looked at her curiously, but were not too concerned, they had bigger problems. Like which weapon would be most useful to bring along. "Hey, Alia," Kaarn said quickly as she made to leave, "Thanks… and don’t be late.”
 "Will do," She said, and left. ---------- The rain was still coming down. Coran hadn’t noticed it before, but it had begun to seep through his jacket. Shivering slightly as he began to feel the cold settle in, Coran fumed. “Why the hell wouldn’t he just let me go?” Coran muttered furiously, referring to Kaarn and their argument only a few minutes ago. He, having already packed, had gone to Kaarn and told him that he was going to make his last goodbyes. Coran had thought it would be an innocent enough request, but Kaarn, usually reserved and joking, had snapped when Coran told him. He’d gone on about how they needed to let go, and how he Coran couldn’t keep living like this. Coran kept telling himself he didn’t know where this anger had come from, but he knew he was lying. He knew exactly where that anger had stemmed from. This had not been the first time they had argued over this matter; Coran’s reluctance to let go. In fact, it had been a conflicting topic for several years now. They had just never resolved it. Kaarn just needs to accept my mourning, Coran thought, and just leave me be. I’m right, and he is wrong! Only after Coran had thought this did he realize how stupid it was. “No!” Coran yelled, slightly louder than he should have. “Shut up, shut up, and get out of my head!” The cry was loud, but felt small in the consuming torrent of rain around Coran. “Leave me in peace!” It was cathartic, a way for Coran to get out all the pent up frustration and sadness inside him. Little did he know someone would actually reply. “We won’t.” Spinning around, gun appearing in his hand, Coran faced the speaker behind him. It was Alia, arms bare and shivering in the rain. Upon seeing her, Coran groaned and holstered his weapon before turning away from her, sending a brief disregard over his shoulder. “Leave me alone, Alia, I want to be alone.” “No. You don’t have that privilege, not anymore.” Coran stopped, her words having an impairing effect. “What do you mean?” Came the reply, directed at Alia. She tried to look Coran in the eye to answer him, but saw only his hunched back, slick with rain. Walking over, Alia put her hand on Coran’s shoulder and turned him to face her. He kept his face down, as if ashamed, and Alia could see his face was slick with rain. Or perhaps it was tears, she liked to think. “You are our leader, Coran. That means you have our respect, trust, and loyalty, but it also means we will be there when you need us, even if you don’t want us there.” “I don’t” “And I don’t care.” His eyes came up at that, and met hers. “Alia, please, just leave me be.” “No. I’m not going to let you stand out here and let yourself wallow in pity. I’m staying.” “Fine.” The face turned away at that, and Alia found herself staring, aimlessly, at the spot where Coran’s eyes had been a moment before. The two figures stayed there, completely still, completely silent, as if listening to a symphony composed for them by the rain; drips and drops illustrating tension words could not. They stayed like that for several minutes, until Coran broke the silence. “I’ve just never had anybody… anybody to watch out for me.” Wisely, Alia did not respond, simply nodded and kept silent, waiting for Coran to say more. “You guys, I know you mean well, but I’ll always be your leader. I'll always be in charge of you, telling you what to do... doesn't just work the other way.” This was stupid logic, Alia thought, but, somehow, she understood it. “And it’s all so pointless!” Coran burst into a fit of anger, slamming his fist into a nearby wall tremendously. “This all is just so pointless! We do all this crap, plan all these karking ops but still no matter what I do, they are still dead, still dead. Every damn night…” He trailed off, muttering his last words to himself hysterically. Lowering her eyes slightly, Alia saw her own ghosts, her own long dead parents flash before her eyes. She knew how Coran felt, she knew what he meant. Those ghosts, they didn't leave you, not ever. “I know what you mean." She started, hesitantly, "I can still see my parent’s faces, every night. And I still cry myself to sleep thinking about them, every night.” A silence fell over them as Coran took in this new information. “I’m sorry, Alia, I didn’t know…” He said hesitantly, as if unsure quite what to say. “Of course you didn’t know. No one knows. Except you.” Coran had turned around now, and was trying to look Alia in the eye, but she would meet his gaze. Oh no, she thought, stang, just stop talking, stop talking. But she didn’t. “Because I trust you, Coran. Only you.” “Alia…” Coran said, quietly, lost for words. “Just shut up, alright? I’m not done.” She took a deep breath, and then continued, “You mean more to us, to me, than you know. It hurts me to see you destroy yourself like this, to go out and grieve nonstop. To care more about your dead parents than us! Than me! I need you to be there, alright?” Alia, with embarrassment, noticed how she’d moved from “we” and “us”, to “I”, and hoped Coran hadn’t noticed the same thing. “Alright,” Coran said quietly. “Ok,” Alia replied, even softer, and then fell silent. The pair just stood there, awkwardly, silently, until Coran broke the silence. “Here, you’re freezing, take my jacket” Alia blushed slightly at Coran’s concern, and almost told him she wasn’t cold, but decided against it. “So,” Coran continued, rubbing his hands together, “Let’s get out of here. We have work to do.” "And, Alia?" "Yea?" "Thanks." The pair walked off into the rain, back the way they’d come. Coran felt a weight lift off his shoulders, if only slightly. He’d taken his first steps towards leaving behind his past. And it felt... good. Little did he know that his past was harder to leave behind than most.
  24. Quifand

    Forceblind

    CHAPTER 2: Truths
 DEEP WITHIN the caves of the planet Draethos, a woman, of around twenty four years of age, sat, a light blue aura surrounding her form. Deep in a meditative trance, she began to sink her mind deep into the Force, letting the current of the Force, like waves, envelop her. Slowly, but steadily, as she sunk deeply into the Force, the assortment of boulders placed around her began to lift into the air. Floating there, the boulders began a slow orbit of the woman, responding to the waves of Force energy she gave off. Faster and faster they spun, creating a breeze that tousled the woman’s hair. Quickly, the boulders became a blur in the air, moving so fast as to be almost invisible. The woman, subconsciously aware of the boulders around her, let her mind go blank, knowing, feeling, thinking, nothing. There was only the Force, only the steady wave, the steady pulse of the Force. It was like a heartbeat, controlling the life of everything. The life of every person, the existence of every object. She sunk herself into that truth. Then the hand steadied itself on her shoulder. “Natalya?” Goll Pantarn asked, his hand on her shoulder. Natalya’s eyes flickered open and the boulders crashed to the ground thunderously, devoid of their telekinetic life. Goll didn’t move a muscle, aware, but uncaring of the dangerous boulders falling behind him. “Yes?” Natalya queried, looking up at Goll, an almost annoyed look on her face. “You were expected at training almost an hour ago.” It was a statement, a fact, but Natalya could hear the underlying question there. Why weren’t you there? Natalya shook her head in annoyance, “Goll, you know better.” She said, trying to take a commanding tone with him. “I’m stronger than any of the others, by leaps and bounds. I don’t need to waste my time training with them.” She put as much of her anger and frustration into her words, but, as she said them, she could hear how hollow they sounded. How stupid and childish. “So you consider yourself too good to train with them.” Goll said. Again, it was a statement, but there was still a question lying beneath. “No, no, I-“ Natalya started, realizing where Goll was going. “No, you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said so.” His eyes seemed to bore into hers. “Perhaps you need a reminder about how much you still need to learn.” Panicked, Natalya tried to stop Goll, tried to apologize, but she was too late. The world went black. Then came the light. From an invisible horizon, the light came, illuminating a place all too familiar to Natalya. An endless stretch of nothing but void. Nothing but the light. Perhaps the ancients had some other name for it, perhaps they even knew what it was, but Natalya knew it only as the Void, the existence her mind held in the vast reaches of the Force. It was hard exactly to explain what the Void was. It was nothing, yet everything. It was a perception of the Force, but not hers. It was the arena where minds dueled, where only the mental existed, and the physical meant nothing. But it was not her Void, it was not the perception she held of the Force. Whenever she entered the Void of her own accord there was life. There was an endless ocean of blue, pulsating and moving as did the Force. Whenever she forced herself upon another mind, they would see her perception, her ocean, and join her there. But this empty Void. This empty space of light. This was not hers, it was Goll’s. She had been in here only a select few times before, as Goll was truly one of the only others among the Chosen who could match her raw strength in the Force. So he, more often than not, would be her punisher, being one of the few who could trump her. It had been some time since she'd last seen him, but she still recognized it easily. Staring into the Void before her, she wondered, for what was not the first time, why Goll saw the Force in such a way. Why he saw only this bright nothing. “You are distracted.” The voice boomed from around her, from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. It was Goll’s voice. Searching the bright space frantically, she found his form, standing, stock still, what seemed like miles and miles away, the only evidence of his presence a black speck in the bright nothing of the Void. Then, in a blink of an eye, he was in front of her, a shining yellow blade flashing towards her torso. She barely managed to step out of the way, feeling the weight of her body slowing her down. Standing before her, blade held limp at his side, Goll shook his head slowly. “How many times must we go over this?” He asked, in a patient voice. “Why apply worldly limits to the imagination? To the Force? The Force itself created this limited galaxy we call our own, these shells we call our bodies. Why should we apply such limiting factors when, here, we exist within the Force itself? There are no limits here.” As if to prove his point, Goll’s body faded into mist and flowed into the air, creating a glistening shimmer of light. And then he placed his hand on her shoulder, and Natalya turned, to see Goll behind her. “There are no limits, except those we imagine.” Goll said calmly, and the bright nothing around them seemed to waver, then break. The world fell to darkness. But now, it was not a pure darkness, it was a damp, dank darkness, one corrupted by miniscule reflections of light. Natalya took a deep breath and felt air rushing through her lungs, and knew she was back. Goll’s hand was still on her shoulder. She brushed it off, unsettled by the faint warmth of the Zabrak’s hand, and stood quickly, running her hands over the creases in her dusty robes. Then she sighed, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” Natalya said earnestly, “I shouldn’t have done what I did.” Goll examined her carefully, and Natalya could feel the vague presence of his mind floating near hers, scrutinizing her for the truth. “Do not worry,” Goll replied, face breaking into a smile, “It is forgiven.” Natalya bowed her head to Goll in thanks, a gesture of respect here among the Chosen. “Now,” Goll continued, “Since you have already missed the majority of your lessons I will have to catch you up on what you missed.” Bowing, Natalya agreed that, yes, that was the best course of action, all the while rolling her eyes in annoyance. Goll was now walking around the room Natalya had chosen for her meditation, examining it carefully. “Yes,” He said finally, “This should work.” Then, with nothing more than a wave of his hand, Goll sent the boulders out of the cave, scattering them like mice. “Take a seat,” Goll said, falling into a meditative stance and gesturing to the space in front of him. Natalya obliged. “Our order,” Goll began, letting his voice shift from merely a physical sound to a mental thought, an idea, which he communicated to Natalya, forming a frail mental link between the two. “Is based on what?” “The Force” “Yes, but that is the simple answer. What is the complex one?” “Perfection? Becoming one with the Force?” “Half-true. Growing closer to the Force is always a great goal, but it is not the true tenant of our order.” “Why?” “Because, young one, we were chosen specifically by the Force to be its conduit into this world. We are already incredibly close to the Force, and though it is important to strengthen that connection, more pressing matters demand our attention.” “But, that’s not what I was taught.” Natalya’s side of the mental link began to shudder precariously as she thought about Goll’s question, uncertain. “I’ve always been taught that we were to seek perfection, that perfect entity within the Force. That’s what we were all taught.” Natalya spoke, now, ignoring the mental connection between Goll and herself. As she said ‘we’ she gestured widely, referring to the dozens and dozens of the other Chosen who existed there. Goll ended the mental link and stood, towering over Natalya. “As I said before, that is only half-true. You were not taught wrong, you simply were not taught all.” Goll applied a faint wisp of the Force to his words, attempting to placate the woman in front of him. “What, then? What is the key tenant of this order?” “Perfection.” Goll stated, simply. “You just told me I was wrong! How is that suddenly right?” Natalya stood, now, matching Goll’s height and looking him in the eye. Goll never moved, but he noted the ferocity in her eyes, and how quick she was to anger. With a sudden surge within the Force, Goll forced his mind into Natalya’s once more, creating the connection again and forcing the memory of her answer back to the surface, so Natalya could hear her exact words. “Perfection? Becoming one with the Force?” “Again, only half-true.” The words were not said now, only thought, forcing themselves upon Natalya’s mind. “We do not seek perfection within ourselves, but, rather of the galaxy itself.” Realization dawned on Natalya, as the pieces fit together then. “Oh…” She muttered, lowly, and Goll mentally reassured her, stroking her consciousness lightly with waves of acceptance and pleasantness. “Have you never wondered as to the presence of the slaves we keep?” Natalya knew of what Goll spoke of. Manning the simple day-to-day faculties in their Order’s cavernous compound were an army of slaves, devoid of life or awareness, following any order they were given. “I-I, never thought about it,” This time, Natalya kept her words non-verbal, supplementing the mental connection with some of her own strength. Sighing sadly, a great gesture on Goll’s part, he though momentarily on the naivety that was forced upon their recruits. It was a sad, but necessary, requirement, but one that Goll felt students as gifted as Natalya need not be restricted by. “They are the Forceblind, the jealous beings who exist outside of the Force. I’m sure you’ve heard of them before.” As Goll thought this, he visualized the images he kept stored of Forceblind men, the Republic and Imperial "soldiers" that mindlessly slaughtered each other on orders from a higher stupidity and sent them along their link as well. With a gasp, Natalya scanned the images and words sent to her, her knowledge conflicting with what she was being told. "But... but, no, that's not right. The slaves we keep aren't like that, they aren't murderers!" She said this desperately, her beliefs and what she was being told conflicting. "No, the slaves we have here are nothing but animals. They were Forceblind once, yes. They were once murderers, yes. But then we got ahold of them. And we made their minds our own. They are not Forceblind, they are nothing, husks of the forms they once were. Do you understand?" "Yes, yes-- but what does it have to do with perfection?" "The world, as it was created by the Force, is perfect. The Forceblind are the creatures that came and corrupted it. That is this Order's purpose; to cleanse the galaxy of the Forceblind." "But that's slaughter, murder; we'd be just as bad as they are!" "The end justifies the means, young one." Natalya fell silent, absorbing all that Goll had told her. Goll knew it was a lot to take in, the truths of their Order, but he also knew she would be able to accomplish the task. The tenants taught en masse were not so different from the truths Goll had just uttered, just less extreme. "I suppose it makes sense…" Natalya muttered, her side of the mental link vanishing. "Good," Goll replied, nodding in satisfaction. "That is all for today, I will give you time to meditate on what I have said. Now return to your quarters, and be sure to be at training tomorrow morning. They shared a cautious smile with each other at that, and Natalya stood, bowed, and left. Goll stood for a while after she had left, deep in thought. That woman was more important than anyone realized, he knew, and so did the Master. So why was she being taught the front banner propaganda? It was a waste of her obvious skill in the Force, Goll knew. Going back and forth between his conflicted thoughts, Goll finally grunted and gave in. If anyone knew the answer, it would be the Master, and if anyone could change things, it would be, again, the Master. ---------- The Master was in meditation. Swallowed by the sheer vastness of the darkness he inhabited, the Master lay, on his back, and projected his web before him, ever-patient, waiting for the vibrations to come and tell him where his prey had fallen. For hours, days, even weeks, the Master would sit at this meditation, kept alive by the Force, and let the galaxy turn. Then, the vibrations came. But not from where was expected, but from the depths of his own Order's dark halls. The Master knew not what had happened, nor what the effects would be, but he did know that it was important. Examining that part of his vast web closely, the Master almost didn't notice Goll enter the small cave. "Master?" Came the voice, pulling the Master from his deep meditation. Without standing, the Master felt the room around him, the ripples it gave off in the Force and saw with his mental eye the towering figure of Goll at the entrance to the cave. "Yes?" Came the reply, the Master's voice croaking from a lack of moisture. "I have questions." A cackle came from the old man's throat, echoing eerily around the cave. "So you always have, Goll. What is it you wish to know?" "The woman, Natalya, why are we repressing her? She cannot perform to her full potential while being told the false propaganda we spout. Nor can she do so while competing with students far below her own ability. She learns in a day what they learn in years." Ah, the Master thought, realization dawning, this was the vibration he had felt. This would need to be handled carefully. "The Force has not yet told me different about her training." "But…" Goll managed, head shaking, both part angry at what seemed foolish to him, and obedient to the Force. "But, you are not wrong," The Master continued, now understanding why the Force had sent him the vibration, and what it wanted him to do. "The woman needs a higher form of training, yes, but no master existed for her before. Not the right one, anyway." "You mean me, don't you?" The Master smiled, revealing a broad grin that was invisible in the gloom of the cave. "That is why I like you, Goll. You are more perceptive than you seem. Yes, you are the master the woman needs." Goll wasn't sure what to make of this development, but he understood orders, even when given as indirectly as the Master preferred. Still, though, he wanted to be sure. Bowing down to one knee before the prone form of the Master, Goll asked quietly, "What is thy bidding, my Master?" Hesitating for only a moment, the Master replied, "Take the woman with you to the planet Ilum. There exist the origins of our Order, as I have told you before. Show them to her, teach her the dark mysteries of the mind, and craft her into a weapon far more dangerous than any of the others. Teach her of the galaxy as well, it will do us no good if she is as naive about things as a child. Then, put her through the Trials. If she passes, and I will know if she does, then return here and perhaps all will be ready by then." "Ready, Master?" "Goll, do not act as if you do not know what I speak of. The perfection of the galaxy. And you know as well as I how close at hand it is." "Dangerous words, Master, both the Republic and Empire are growing their armies, preparing for war. Is it so wise to strike our foes while they are both at their strongest?" "Do not fear, Goll. I feel something is coming. Something powerful. A great ripple in the balance of the Force. Even now I can feel the effects of its coming. This… event… when it comes will be our call to strike." "Yes, Master." "Then leave me, you have work. We shall speak again when you are successful." Without a word, Goll left, leaving the Master to his plans, and set off. There was work to be done.
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