nervousheroA
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I recently returned to the game after leaving it exactly a year ago, and so I can be better prepped for 5.10 next month, i’ve been streaming a “re-playthrough” of my main’s class story (the SW), every Friday and Sunday. My newest stream footage is going live on YouTube this afternoon, so you can catch up on our progress so you can watch live this Friday! Stop by and say hi!
Twitch: https://twitch.tv/hyliandeku
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSqjEMfWH8kVMUGukdCUhiw
(I’m typing this on mobile so that YouTube link looks like garbage. I’ll update it later today)
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For the prompt Thank You, I have the too-long-delayed return of my Jedi Guardian Valerie.
This one takes place about two weeks after Yavin IV. Spoils companions for the JK, and mentions a location from the Inquisitor story as well as a plot element from the Consular story.
With 1898 words, here's Pent-Up Stress:
“Ok, Jedi. Arms up. Let’s have another look.”
Doing as requested, she pulled up her undershirt, revealing her heavily scarred midsection. She pulled it up further, to the point where Doc could see the slightly-charred circle just below her breasts.
“Wow,” Kira commented from the back of the room. “Now I understand why you wanted me to join you~”
“It’s frustrating enough having to have these check-ups in the first place…” Valerie admitted bitterly, trying to lay perfectly still as Doc ran his scans.
“Hey! My charms may be potent, but even my looks can’t beat those Jedi tricks of yours…” The green light on his scanner turned off as the computer ran through the data. “Hm… That lightsaber of hers is something else… That stab is still around…”
“Has she improved?” Kira inquired, walking closer to the two of them. “I mean, her condition can’t have gotten worse, right?”
He shook his head.
“No, no, she has improved, for sure. You were right on that, Ms. Jedi, Alderaan’s done wonders for her recovery. It’s just that one damn wound that won’t quit. Kolto’s winning the battle, of course, but it would be faster if we could just put you back in the—“
“And I’ve explained why I’m not going back in there,” the Jedi Battlemaster answered him. “There’s too much at stake here.”
“If I didn’t know any better, gorgeous, I’d say you were getting claustrophobia or something~”
“We could always stuff you in a small container for a few months,” Kira suggested calmly. “Think the cargo bay would do nicely, see how you feel then.”
He glared at her silently for several seconds.
“Noted.” He returned to his readings. “Any unusual pains since your last check-up?”
She closed her eyes thoughtfully.
“Unusual? No. I still can’t do my warm-ups like I used to, though.”
“I hope you haven’t been forcing it…”
“No, Mom taught me some other techniques I could try until I’ve healed more. I’ve been managing.”
“Any troubles with your breathing? Shortness of breath?”
“I sneezed while tending to the flowers yesterday. Does that count?”
Kira chuckled.
“I can see the Empire turning pollen into some kind of toxin.” Her smile dropped. “On second thought, I don’t want to think about it…”
“Food still going down all right?”
She nodded.
“Ok, gorgeous. That should be everything. Let me give you your injection for the day, and you should be cleared.”
Nodding in agreement, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, blocking out the uncomfortable sensation of the needle in her side. While Doc handled the injection, Kira went to answer the holo. In the other room of the house.
“Hello, Master Freiden. How’re things on Tython?”
“It’s good to see you again, Kira,” the bearded young man replied. “The reconstruction here is going along rather well, actually. The inside of the Temple is nearly complete, so we may be finally able to send new recruits there again, and they will gain much once Master Vergebung recovers.”
On cue, the young Jedi strolled into the holo-room, smoothing out her casual shirt and trying to catch her hair into a ponytail again.
“You know me, Master Freiden, I don’t quit that easily.”
He shook his head, smiling.
“It’s only been two weeks, and you look so much better already. I can hear it.”
“We’re staying at her mom’s place on Alderaan,” Kira explained. “Away from the war, and the yard work keeps us all busy.”
“I’ll bet.” He hesitated. “Have you heard anything back from the Sergeant?”
Valerie frowned.
“No, last I heard, she was sorting out possible leads with Theron. Haven’t heard anything since.”
“Hm…” He scratched his chin. “All right. I wish we had something concrete to go on…”
“We’ll figure it out,” Valerie reassured. “Until then, one thing at a time. I can’t help with anything until I’m truly back on my feet.”
“Of course. May the Force be with you, friends.”
Cutting the transmission, the young Jedi Master glanced out the window, watching an older woman bent over near a blue patch of flowers.
“Kira, see if you can’t get the sandwiches going. I’m going to go talk to Mom for a bit.”
“All right. You want your usual?”
“Yeah.” Walking out the front door, she leaned against one of the wooden posts, watching the older woman plant another flower in the dark soil. She smirked as she stood up and used her arm as a measuring tool, making sure the new addition was aligned correctly.
“I know florists are very particular,” she started, teasing her mother, “but you set new standards for perfectionists everywhere.”
The older woman laughed.
“And you redefine the word stubborn~” Turning to face Valerie, her aging complexion was nearly lost in the sunlight. “How’d it go this time?”
She shrugged.
“Fine. Nothing’s wrong; it’s just taking a while.”
“Then be happy,” she reminded her daughter. “You’re alive and well, that alone is good enough for an old woman like myself.”
“You’re not that old,” she replied, chuckling.
“I’m 47 years old,” she growled mockingly, waving her spade like a weapon. “Going on 48. I’m an older crook than you realize, woman.”
Valerie buried her face in her hand, trying to stifle her laugher.
“Got it.”
Her mother pointed down the hill.
“By the way, your Sith friend went down that way, said he wanted to see you when you were done.”
“Did he say why?”
The older woman frowned.
“He only ever talks about two things…ever. Revan and the Emperor, or the Sith. Keeps asking me why I abandoned your father on the Doombringer.”
Valerie sighed loudly.
“I told him not to talk about that… I’ll go talk to him.”
“Don’t worry about all that, Valerie. I really don’t mind the questions anymore. It can be good sometimes to relive the past, remember why you chose the path you did.”
Valerie couldn’t help but stare at her mother in wonder.
“And to think, a little over a year ago, you were going psychotic and trying to plague the entire Council to death…”
“Sociopathic,” she reminded her daughter jokingly. “There’s a difference, child.”
“Right-o.” Standing up from her resting position on the pole, she made her way down the path from the old house, watching her feet as it bended and twisted, until the path faded away, and she was left standing near a cliff’s edge, overlooking the entire Organa estate and the neighboring ocean. The sun was still high in the sky, but it wasn’t hot where she stood, not so close to fall, it wouldn’t. Looking around, she saw Scourge, in his battle armor, standing at the cliff’s edge, gazing down at the countryside below. Not speaking yet, she walked up beside him and sat on the rocky ground, crossing her legs like a school-girl is taught. She breathed in the clean air for a few moments, waiting for him to speak first.
“I can sense the beauty of this,” he started softly. “If I could feel, I’m sure I would find it marvelous.”
“I would go here with my grandparents when I was little,” she agreed. “I liked to play with the grass and see how far I could make it fly in the wind.”
He mimicked her position, sitting down awkwardly on the rocky ground.
“How far could you get it?”
She shook her head.
“I could never tell. I would pretend, and grandma would always try to cheat and say she won.” She chuckled. “She always cheated, and yet I never really cared. I was just having fun.” She sighed, letting her body fall slowly to the ground, letting the warm rocks heat her back, gazing up at the bright, puffy clouds. “Mom said you wanted to talk?”
He sat silently for a while, figuring out exactly how to phrase his question.
“I heard you and T-7 were the only ones who refused to admit I could die,” she said softly. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting that level of faith from you.”
“You are the one from my vision,” he snapped. “I could never believe otherwise. The Force never lies.”
“I just proved the Force does not reveal everything about the future,” she replied. “Being around the Jedi so long, I’m sure you’ve heard this before from the others. So I’ll ask again. Where did that faith come from?”
He sighed.
“I will admit, just this once, that I had a…faith…that you would survive. If for no other reason, Kira is terrible at managing a starship.”
“True,” she chuckled. “Besides, I’m sure she was glad I came back.”
“You have no idea.”
She caught something odd in his tone.
“What do you mean?” she asked, shifting her position on the rocks.
“When you…left…she made regular visits to your mother and Satele on Tython, almost daily. She wasn’t taking the loss very well.”
“I don’t blame her…”
“We were all worried, of course, but I could sense Kira’s distress. While most of us resumed our lives within a week, she…changed.”
Her heart dropped.
“I truly noticed it for the first time while she was on Korriban with the others,” he continued. “She was blaming the Sith there for your fate, and we all felt it. It was even worse on Manaan, when she was practically forced to work with the Wrath and the other Imperials.”
She stood up abruptly, flipping a small stone in her hands. Scourge sat there, unmoving, studying her. Gathering her energy, she chucked the stone off the cliff violently.
“Argh!” she cried, watching the stone sail over the edge, eventually disappearing under the tree canopy below.
“Why the hell do I have to be the lifeline for everyone else? Why can’t I just be a normal Jedi and just live? Can no one survive without me being there 24-7?”
Not bothering to answer her questions, he debated. After a minute, he rose and walked next to her. Reaching down, he picked up a similar-sized stone, and lightly tossed it off the cliff, the two of them watching it tumble onto the rocky edge below.
“Mine went farther,” he said after a while. “It hit that tower you can see in the distance. The one that looks like a needle.”
She followed his finger, then looked down at the cliff, and sure enough, Scourge saw the small, warm smile return. Her eyes closed, and it was little wonder to him now why she was so well liked no matter where she went. Even to his dulled senses, her radiance, no matter how Jedi-ish, was extraordinary.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I needed that.”
“I have never met a Jedi,” he explained simply, “who could completely banish frustration. Even Sith need some kind of outlet to keep themselves in check.”
“I have my methods,” she agreed. “I’ve just been having trouble…”
“Indeed, you have felt…raw…the past two weeks.”
She sighed.
“I feel it, too, but I’m recovering. Like my physical injuries, it’s been slow, but I can feel the improvement. It’s been nice, not having to fight for a while.”
“Valerie! The sandwiches are ready! You two coming?”
She turned towards the figure of Kira farther up the hill.
“We’re coming! Give us a sec!” She turned to Scourge. “Thank you again. It’s been fun.”
“It has been amusing,” he agreed. “I never knew tending to plants could be so exhausting.”
Author's Notes:
I seem to have an annoying knack of mentioning serious injuries to my characters without ever explaining them. I will eventually, but...it's to much fun hanging in the mystery of it all.
:D:D -
*awkwardly walks onto the stage*
It's been way too long since I've been on here, honestly. While I would ramble on about my excuses, we're not here for that. I'd like to make ammends by posting a story about my Operative, Sierra. This takes place during the Macrobinoculars questline, contains Agent companion spoilers, and contains 1947 words.
Using the prompt Communications Breakdown, here's Ice and Snow:
It was bad enough they had to return to the coldest piece of crap in the galaxy, but somehow it always seemed to end up even worse.
Sierra and her crew had landed on Hoth in pursuit of someone called the Shroud, some terrorist who seemed to be all over the place. Her search had led to Hoth, sadly, because of possible sentry probes. One spy to another, she admired his resourcefulness.
Splitting up was dangerous here, but travelling in one large group was also dangerous, slow, and just plain stupid. Therefore, they had split into a pair and a trio. Kaliyo, Dr. Lokin and Vector were exploring the north, nearing the Republic settlement, and Sierra and Temple took to the ice field to the south, towards the mountain range. Their biggest concern, besides the cold, was the communications issue. Comms were always fuzzy on the planet, whether it was due to the weather or the terminals just freezing over, no one really knew.
A strong gust of wind forced the ex-agent to stop in her tracks, tugging down at her cold-weather gear as the wind sapped what body heat she had managed to retain. Behind her, Temple copied her movement, taking another look at the satellite display of the terrain she had pulled up. Having been on Hoth long before Sierra had found her, she wasn’t as severely affected by the wind, but still just as cold.
“This is Commander to Recon,” she called. “Come in, Recon.”
There was a one-second delay before the signal from the other team got through.
“This is Recon to Commander. It’s cold as ****, but we’re alright.”
“What’s your present location, Agent K?”
Static.
“Agent K?”
“-------mander?------interfer-----no time-----shelter----”
“Oh my God…” She reached down to her belt, fumbling with her portable communications stabilizer, and was horrified to discover it coated in ice.
She had designed the thing specifically for this mission. She couldn’t afford spotty communications, so she had created a device that attempted to stabilize comm relays as they fell out of whack thanks to Hoth’s environment. She had created two, one for each team, and now it seemed hers was shot.
“God ****ing…” She threw the device on the ground, fuming.
“Uh...sir?” Temple had looked up from her holomap to point upwards. Following her gaze, Sierra observed the scouts who were camped at the top of one of the ridges. They both recognized their uniforms as Republic.
“Hello!” the ex-agent yelled, donning the best Coruscant accent she could think of. “I’m sorry to bother you, but we seem to be lost! Is this Aurek?”
“You’re nowhere close to Aurek,” replied one of the scouts. “What are you guys doing out here? No one said anything about patrols coming this way.”
“If you can get us out of this cold for a while,” Temple offered, using her familiar Balmorran accent, “we can answer your questions inside.”
The scout glanced at her compatriots, who nodded.
“Deal. I’ll signal a transport. Wait a moment.”
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It took about a minute for the armored transport to reach their location, and another two to reach the closest Republic installation, which appeared to be Outpost Senth. Along the way, the scout who had found them removed her helmet, revealing her young face with short, black hair.
“So, who are you two supposed to be?”
The two girls glanced at each other quickly.
“I’m Bella,” said Sierra. “And my partner here is Francine. We’re with the SIS.”
“I thought you looked a bit off to be military,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “You must have the worst job postings ever.”
“Something like that,” the agent replied. She suddenly felt extremely tired.
We heard the Republic has been getting false info that says that they can tame those damn snow creatures,” replied Temple, not noticing her companion’s distress. “We’re trying to figure out who’s doing it, and how.”
“I’ll bet you anything it’s the Empire,” the scout growled. “Damn Imps won’t leave us alone…”
“Are you alright, sir?” asked Temple, noticing Sierra’s face start to pale.
“I think I’m running low…” she mumbled, closing her eyes as her vision started to spin. “I must not have noticed it when we were hiking. Stupid…”
Recognition instantly flashed in her eyes. Immediately, she started fumbling through her insulated travel case. She froze.
“Oh no…” She pulled out a vial of solution from the bag, and the ex-agent was horrified to discover it was frozen over.
“I think the seal on that bag of yours must have broken,” the scout replied. “Whatever it is, we can probably heat it up right here if you really need it.”
She shook her head, feeling various parts of her body draining their energy supply.
“Not...possible…”
“I need a re-breather right now,” said Temple, keeping her friend upright.
“What?”
“Now!”
Startled by the outburst, the soldiers fumbled around one another furiously. Eventually, the medic of the group found one.
“Got it,” he called, handing it to the ensign.
“Thank you. Hold still…”
Feeling the metal attach to her skin, her vision settled almost immediately. She looked at Temple, who gave her an encouraging nod. She took an experimental breath, and felt the sharpness of clarity beginning to return.
“Thank you,” she muttered, her voice distorted by the mechanical mouthpiece.
“Are you alright?” the scout asked quietly.
“Her lungs were damaged during the Sacking,” Temple explained calmly, sinking into the semi-lie like it was real. “It’s not bad enough to prevent her from working, but severe enough to require monitoring. That’s what the solution is for.”
“It’s stimulates her lungs,” she replied, understanding, “so she can breathe better?”
“Yes.”
She crossed her arms.
“Why can’t we just thaw out the solution? Is it really that much of a difference?”
“I don’t completely understand it myself,” Temple admitted. “From what our medic could translate for me, the conditions for administering it have to be perfect, or the other chemicals start reacting...violently.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s...impressive.” She turned to Sierra. “You’re a fighter. I commend you for that. We all lost something during the Sacking…” The caravan shuddered, coming to a stop. “Here we are. There’s a long-range terminal you can use to contact whoever you need. I doubt you two are here on your own.”
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When they arrived at the station, Temple led the agent aside.
“Sir, are you really ok?”
The ex-agent responded by sighing quietly.
“Look, it wasn’t your fault,” she continued, knowing what the agent was thinking. “I can make the call if you’re afraid of talking. Besides, I think we should inspect the rest of your equipment, make sure nothing else froze over.”
Slowly, she nodded, and they returned to the base.
Temple reached the large holoterminal in the room as Sierra went into the adjacent one.
“This is Shadow team to Recon, hailing from Republic Outpost Senth. Repeat, Shadow to Recon, from Senth. Please respond.”
It took noticeably longer than usual, but Kaliyo eventually answered the holo.
“You know, I was almost worried something happened to you two out there. For a little bit.” The image quickly switched to Dr. Lokin.
“Why are you two all the way over there in Senth? You’re supposed to be much farther South.”
“Turns out our stabilizer froze over,” she explained. “That’s why we lost communication earlier. Thankfully, a Republic patrol found us. Now we’re just warming up.”
“Lucky indeed.”
The ensign cringed at the extra meaning in his words.
“Is there anything else?”
Temple hesitated.
“Apparently, we misjudged the conditions necessary to keep our medical supplies sealed from the cold. The vials are completely frozen. We had to put Belle on a rebreather, or she would’ve collapsed within another minute.”
“Looks like your part of the mission was quite the failure…” he muttered dryly. “Luckily, we had much greater success. We have what we came for, but we shouldn’t discuss it over an open channel. I’m sending you rendezvous coordinates. We’ll meet there.”
The image switched to Vector.
“Is it possible to speak with...Belle? Just for a moment?”
She cringed.
“Belle is checking the rest of her equipment at the moment. I don’t really think she’s in the mood to talk.”
“We can discuss what happened once we’ve all reconvened,” said Lokin. “Until then, Recon, signing off.”
As the holo flickered off, she felt Sierra approach from behind.
“How’s everything looking sir?” Temple asked.
“Nothing else appears to be damaged,” she replied. “We’re all set.”
“We can provide transportation for most of your trip,” explained the scout from earlier, “but it’s a little too close to Imp territory for my liking. Regardless, I want to do you girls a favor, so I’ll take you as far as I can.”
“That means a great deal,” said Sierra. “Thank you.”
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The transport vehicle skidded to a stop at the start of the Icefall Plains, its entry door hissing as it opened. Upon exiting, the trio could see the Phantom docked close-by.
“That’s a fancy ship!” cried the scout as the wind blew harder.
“Well, we try to live in style.”
Sierra made a move to remove her rebreather, but she was refused.
“Keep it. I think you’ll find greater use of of it than I ever could.”
She stared at the woman for a moment.
“I appreciate it, Ms…”
“Rebecca. Sergeant Rebecca Mayne.”
“It’s been an honor to meet you, Ms. Mayne,” replied Temple. “Take care.”
“You as well.” The sergeant climbed back into her transport, and the jeep took off when they reached the entry hatch to the ship. Lokin as standing just inside, ushering them in immediately.
“I have a vial of solution already prepared, agent,” he said. “We can discuss how you two managed to end up in a Republic outpost after you’ve warmed up a little.”
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After being readministered of the oxygenating solution, and after the data on the Shroud’s activities was discussed and analyzed, Sierra had retreated to her room for almost an hour. Not even Vector was allowed to disturb her at the moment. Which was fine and good, but after a while, she came out of the room for a few seconds.
“Ensign? I’d like to talk with you in private for a while, if you’re not busy.”
Nodding, she followed the Commander to her room, the door re-sealing behind them.
“I want you to know,” the ex-agent began, “you did a great job out there today. I don’t hold you accountable for any of what happened.”
“But?”
She crossed her arms, her gaze lowering.
“I’m sorry for putting you through all that crap. I was quite useless all the sudden, wasn’t I?”
“None of this is your fault, sir!” Temple insisted. “The true coward is the one who shot you in the first place. You’ve held up surprisingly well since then.”
“That doesn’t change what I’ve had to become, ensign. I can’t help but feel weak. Useless.”
“You’re anything but.,” she replied firmly. “You’ve been incredible every step of the way. The way you handle the different aspects of your choices is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been able to serve the Empire better than I ever could before thanks to you. You’re the opposite of weak, Sierra.”
She smiled upon hearing her real name, just a little. Closing her eyes, it reminded her of a time many years ago, when her parents used to comfort her whenever she became discouraged. She sighed.
“Thank you, Raina. That means the world to me.”
“Any time,” she replied, grinning warmly. “Now, Vector seems to miss you terribly. You may need to calm him down for a while.”
Author's Notes:
Hopefully this sheds a bit more light on my Operative as a person, as well as the medical issues I hinted at a long time ago. Gotta say, it's good to be back.
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As we know, Chapter 2 for the Inquisitor started with us binding two ghosts (Ergast and Andru), and when we confront Thanaton after the fact, he smokes the Inq, but he manages to survive only because of the two ghosts.
As Khem
technically Zash speaking through Khem
explains:
To kill you, they would've had to purge their spirits. You died, but their presence kept you alive.With this in mind, it seems the only way to kill the Inquisitor (assuming he/she kept the ghosts at their Chapter 3 ending) would be to remove these ghosts, but how exactly would one go about doing that? Is it even possible, given the weird bond that Force-walking creates?
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For Advice, I have my Imperial family of Sierra and Giselle once again. Set a year or so before my chocolate story, which makes this one first chronologically so far. With only 971 words, this is Sisterhood.
“Mom?”
“Yes, Sierra?”
The red-headed little girl looked up at her mother.
“When will Giselle be done with her training? She promised we’d play later today.”
The woman glanced out the glass patio door, thinking.
“Your sister should be done in a few minutes, I think. Then she needs to shower. She should be ready then.”
“Ok…”
The mother put her digital book down on the table next to her, smiling.
“Getting anxious, are we?”
“Well…” The little girl sat in the couch next to her mother, eyes falling to the floor. “She’s been out there for so long. I’m getting bored.”
Her mother chuckled knowingly.
“What about school? Have you done your assignments today?”
Sierra rolled her eyes.
“Yes, Mom. I did them hours ago…”
“What about your exercises? Have you been practicing what we talked about?”
“Xaz, Virha,” she replied immediately. “Nu laviti nuyak Tsis kais j'us uzpra.”
“Incredible…” she muttered wistfully. “If only your sister could learn as quickly as you…”
“She’s always so busy training…” Sierra muttered. “Are you sure I can’t train with her?”
Her mother’s eyes saddened at the question.
“Sierra... You know why you can’t train like her.”
“Can’t I at least watch her once?” she insisted. “I want to see what it’s like!”
“I…” Her voice faltered slightly. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea. She gets very…intense…when she’s training.”
“But Mom,” she replied, suddenly sounding very formal and professional as she leaned out of her couch. “Watching a Sith in action would be fantastic research for my report next week. My teacher recommended we watch Sith fighting tactics for this chapter. By watching Giselle train, I don’t have to even leave Dromund Kaas.”
Her mother brought a hand to her chin, thinking.
“You do have a point, Sierra. I’ll talk with her instructor when she’s finished.”
“Yes!”
“Now, go get changed for dinner. We’re going out tonight, remember?”
“Yes, Mom.”
As she jogged down the adjacent hallway towards her room, the patio door opened.
“Ah, welcome back, honey!” she called, rising from her chair. “How was it today?”
Giselle wiped her dark red bangs from her eyes, breathing hard.
“It was rough,” she replied, walking towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “But I did well.”
“I agree,” the bald overseer replied. “Her technique is improving considerably. I’m starting to gain a clearer picture of her fighting style now, though I have advised her to watch her control. She’s all too quick to launch into a frenzy with no prior thought process.”
“It worked, didn’t it?” she replied curtly, taking a large sip from her glass.
“No, it didn’t. In fact, it nearly cost you the round. You only recovered when you then regained control and became more cautious. That’s why you succeeded.”
Giselle sighed.
“I’ll try harder, overseer.”
“Be sure you do. Now, one more time. Defensive?”
“Soresu,” she replied instantly.
“Fast-paced?”
“Ataru.”
“Standard?”
“Shii-Cho.”
“Aggresive?”
“Juyo.”
“Dueling?”
“Makashi.”
“Hm…very good. Which one were we practicing today?”
“Intermediate Ataru.”
“What do you need to practice?”
“Balance,” she replied. “Keeping my center of gravity in check.”
“And?”
She sighed again.
“And control.”
“You’re advancing quickly. Just don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re not Sith yet.”
“Yes, overseer,” she responded, bowing. “Have a safe journey back to Korriban.”
“I’ll do just that.” He bowed to her mother. “My lady.”
“Oh, by the way…” The mother stood out of her chair. “Her younger sister, Sierra, was wondering if she could observe you two next week.”
“Mom!”
“She wants to spend more time with you, Giselle. Is that really a bad thing?”
“Mom, she’s just going to get in the way,” she replied. “She’s going to stare and talk continuously. She’ll be nothing but distracting.”
“Assuming she stands far enough back,” the overseer replied, “and she doesn’t interrupt my instruction, I don’t see any immediate reason why not.”
“That’ll be excellent. Thank you.”
“Mom!”
“It’s either this,” her mother replied curtly, “or I’ll have her teach you more Sith instead of your father. Your choice.”
She did her best to glare at her mother.
“Dujikri zhol.”
“Good,” her mother remarked. “You are practicing. But watch your language.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“My lady.” The overseer bowed, then made his way out of the apartment.
“Why do you have to treat your own sister like that all the time? She just wants to spend more time with you.”
The early-teenage girl put her hands on the counter dramatically.
“Mom, she follows me around like a second shadow or something. She never leaves me alone. She doesn’t shut up, like, ever. She’s always blabbering about that new thing she found on the HoloNet. All the time.”
“I thought that lightsaber to blaster converter was pretty cool…” her mom admitted guiltily.
“Mom, it’s stupid. For several crucial reasons.”
“And ignoring your sister like this is stupid, for several crucial reasons. You can’t use your training as an excuse anymore.”
“It’s not my fault that Sierra isn’t Sensitive like I—“
“Giselle!”
Her daughter hesitated at the fury in her voice.
“I don’t think you quite realize just how fortunate you really are,” her mother replied, pointing a finger at her. “Visteus hasn’t had a Force-Sensitive in 3, almost 4 generations. Everything we have taught you has been to remove you from the typical Sith superiority-complex, and this is how you repay us?”
Giselle was too stunned to respond.
“Furthermore, yes, Sierra is Force-blind. Completely and totally. And that’s ok. Because in the end, she is your sister, and there will come a day when you’ll want to see her again, but she’ll be gone. And you’ll be miserable.”
The middle-aged woman took a deep breath, switching moods in an instant.
“Now, I want you changed and ready to go in about 15 minutes. We’re going out tonight, remember?”
Author's Notes:
Giselle used to be incredibly hot-headed. She still kind of is, but far less so towards her friends and allies. Also, like most sibblings, she and Sierra got along about as well as you'd expect.
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I am extremely behind, and I feel horrible for it.
Oh well, I'm making up for it now. Comments will come later, I promise (I'm usually so good at keeping up...), but whoever commented on my earlier story, I must admit that Giselle is actually not a Pureblood, but rather human. Her family is DESCENDED from Sith, like most Imperials, and Visteus does have strong ties to their Sith heritage to this day, but the currently family is human. Looking back, it's easy to make the mistake. I wasn't clear enough.
For Mixing it Up, I have a combination of Turning Point and Worst Day Ever. This one has major spoilers for the Agent's Chapter 1 finale, so read at your own risk!
Featuring my Operative Sierra, this one will influence and solidify her position as an Agent for the Empire. A whopping 5210 words, this is An Epoch of Terror:
She had always known she could die in this job. Then again, she also never expected events of this scale.
Her ship docked with the Dreadnought without incident, much to her relief. While the ship was locking down, she checked her prototype, mechanized suit. She had been working on it in between planets for the past few weeks, but it was still having issues. Mainly, the shoulder synchronization was off, meaning the pads would occasionally rotate out of alignment, sometimes flipping completely around inside the suit. Luckily, she had fixed the severe flipping-around issue on the way here, but the pads were still too loose. Oh, well… she thought. This is all I’ve got.
She and Vector left the ship to find Watcher Two waiting for them on the other end of the hanger. After a quick greeting, the Agent set out to confront the traitor, her mind reeling with all possible outcomes and odds of survival. The latter seemed practically zero. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, which made Vector concerned.
“Agent?” he inquired. “What is wrong?”
Without answering, she reached behind the trigger guard and pushed a tiny button. A small holoprojection flickered into view, shaping into the 2D image of two younger girls. One of them looked very similar to Sierra. The other was completely foreign to Vector.
“I haven’t yet had the chance to tell you this since you joined the crew, and I don’t trust Kaliyo with this kind of information yet. Vector, do you see the young girl next to me in this picture?”
“…Yes, Agent.”
She swallowed dryly, trying as hard as humanly possible to swallow both her fear and her tears. She was quickly failing in the first, and she wouldn’t succeed in the latter for much longer if she kept talking like this.
“If I die…you need to remain alive. Do you understand? You’re the only other person who has seen this. I need you to find her.” She chuckled softly. “She’s been running rampant across the galaxy lately, according to her messages as of late, but with connections like yours, you should be able to find her eventually, or at least her number…”
The Joiner recognized the clashing of despair and hope in her voice all at once.
“Agent…”
“No, Vector. Listen! You have to tell her the truth. You have to find her. Please.”
The two locked eyes for several seconds, and Vector could both see and feel her determination, buried in a wall of fear. He nodded slowly.
“Of course, Agent. It…will be done.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to purge her system of her emotions.
“All my life, I’ve lived feeling worthless. I could never contribute to the Empire my family has raised me to love. Even now, my instinct is to run. Run far away, just like when I was a kid. But now I know I have a place.” Eyes still closed, she turned the image off. “I became an Agent, a defender of the Empire. At last, I can serve my homeland, just as my sister now does as a member of the Sith. I have found my destiny, so to speak.” She opened her eyes, and her fear was successfully buried. In its place was a rare combination of resignation and determination. Not for a blaze of glory, but rather, a blaze of patriotism. She was raised for this Empire, and she would die for this Empire. Her prototype HUD flickered into view in front of her right eye, drawing a 3D schematic of the floor plan of the vessel. She cocked her rifle. “Let’s end this.”
She made her way to the command deck, and nearly choked when Darth Jadus turned to face her.
“So, you’ve arrived at last.”
“Cipher,” the Watcher said over the comms. “I know that voice…”
Sure enough, the Dark Council member Jadus stood in front of her.
“I expected too little of you,” he admitted. “You served me well on Hutta and on Dromund Kaas. I should have known you would serve me again.”
Her world as she understood it had suddenly dissolved into nothingness.
“Are you responsible for this?”
“Everything that has transpired has been at my command. My will is the destiny of lesser men. Accept the gift of your life, Agent, and we will discuss terror, the Empire, and the Sith.”
She swallowed, trying her best to hide her terror from the Sith, brain wheeling through her options. She needed time to work something out, figure out how much he knew.
“You talk, I’ll listen.”
“Be careful, Cipher,” warned Watcher 2. “You know what he’s capable of. I’m trying to analyze the situation, but it will take time. And if he has the command codes…”
“It was my desire that the Eagle unite the terror cells,” he explained. “It was my desire that my flagship be destroyed. I required a weapon the Dark Council would overlook. The terrorists became my unknowing servants, and carried out my plan.”
“You sanctioned the deaths of Imperials! You faked your own assassination!” She was quickly understanding just why Sith were so widely hated, even among the Empire.
“Only to achieve something greater,” he countered. “With my false death, I escaped the eyes of the Dark Council, and of Imperial Intelligence. After the Dominator, I came here, bringing with me those passengers worthy of preservation. I maneuvered my pieces into place.”
She could feel the true meaning of his words, remembered her encounter with him on Dromund Kaas…God, how long ago was that? She realized she had been played, and a foreign feeling started racing through her body.
“I’m not one of your game pieces, Jadus.” She could swear she was almost seething.
“You were once,” Jadus retorted. “Until I granted you independence.”
Watcher 2 spoke up.
“Keep him talking! Damn, you can’t fight him alone. His power is second only to the Emperor’s…”
“I accomplished two things during my absence,” he continued. “First was the dinnuation of the Dark Council. After my death, they warred amongst themselves, vying to claim my resources. Darth Zhorrid escalated the chaos. My daughter is doomed, but she is an adequate distraction.”
She nearly took a shot at him right then. She had never met a Sith so merciless, so needlessly cruel. Not even her sister was so…
“I can’t call for reinforcements so long as that jamming field’s active, but he’ll annihilate anything less than an army.”
She could hear the desperation in the Watcher’s voice.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered, trying her best to keep her own desperation out of her voice. “We’ll figure something out. He’s not getting away.”
“Understood. Running analysis…”
“Throwing the Sith into chaos was only the start. The rest of the Empire had to be prepared as well. That was the Eagle’s purpose: to sow fight and hatred. All this while, my Eradicators were growing. Now they are ready, and my victory is close at hand.”
This is it. This is the endgame for us both. What is it he really wants?
“What victory?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”
“The Eradicators will destroy the strongholds and apprentices of my enemies on the Council. So, too, will the Eradicators terrorize the Empire, then I will return to the Council, and lead the Empire into a new age, an epoch of terror.”
Each word he spoke froze her blood further and further, until she could no longer feel her blood anymore. He was speaking of genocide, targeted genocide, and for what? Sith games.
“I see where this is going,” said the Watcher. “He needs the Eradicator codes to make this work, but you have half the command codes.”
“Under my rule, all people will revel in fear and anger and degradation. These prizes will no longer be hoarded by Sith.” He paused. “But without both halves of the command codes, my weapons cannot be targeted. They will merely cost chaos.”
Something stirred within her upon hearing that. A fire she had never felt before when dealing with the terrorists elsewhere. I’m the complication. I am the pawn he did not expect. It was a flame that defied fear. It was a fire that purged her fear of death into something more.
“Sounds like you’re in trouble,” she smirked, almost sneering at the Sith’s lack of foresight.
“Perhaps,” he mused. “But your position is more tenuous. I know you have the second half of codes.” Her smugness quickly dissipated back to its previous state tenfold. “Without orders, the Eradicators will fire blindly. This serves neither of us. Enter your codes into the ship so the Eradicators can target my enemies. You will be rewarded. You will be my herald.”
Her legs nearly buckled under the implications of his offer.
“You expect me to betray the Empire for you?” Her voice was a blur of both terror and bewilderment.
“Soon I shall be the Empire,” he countered. “If you refuse, you will die at my hand. The Eradicators will still reap untold destruction. Your sacrifice will mean nothing.” He turned away, looking out the glass once more. “I can be merciful. Take the time to consider your choice. Then we can begin the true work.”
“You haven’t thought this through,” she countered desperately. “Kill me, and I take the codes with me.”
“A bold sentiment, but not a wise one,” Jadus retorted. Damn it… “With your death, neither of us achieves our desire. And only I will be in a position to form a new plan.”
Taking the hint, Sierra walked to the side of the command deck, and leaned forward on one of the computer terminals, bracing herself with her hands. Why is it suddenly so hard to breathe?
“All right, Cipher. Stay focused, and don’t look at Jadus. How are you holding up? Can we put together a plan?”
She shook her head slowly, licking her lips desperately.
“I don’t know. I have no idea. Got any suggestions, Watcher 2?”
“We need to reexamine our priorities. We came here to stop the Eradicators, but we weren’t prepared for reality. Our plan now has to focus on neutralizing Darth Jadus—everything else is peripheral.”
Cipher-9 recognized that voice. It was the voice that had purged itself of conscience, either by choice or not. It was a voice of resignation, one step above defeat.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, Cipher. The numbers aren’t in our favor. You can deactivate the Eradicators right now, just combine the codes in the ship’s computers. But to keep Jadus from reactivating them, you’d have to blow out the ship’s reactor. It’s a suicide run, and chances are, Jadus will escape.”
“That doesn’t sound particularly horrible…” she said, trying to dodge the true consequences of such an action.
“It’s not that simple. If Darth Jadus escapes, he’ll come back. Not next year, maybe, but eventually.” She hesitated. “There’s another way. A way to stop him from hurting anyone ever again. We can lure him into a trap by gaining his confidence. Give him the codes to the Eradicators, and let him start his attack.”
If she wasn’t already bracing herself on the terminal, she would have collapsed for sure.
“Are you serious? Do you have any idea…?”
“If we want this to work, we have no choice,” Watcher 2 countered. “Prove your loyalty, and he’ll turn his back on you. He’s too arrogant to do otherwise. Once the Eradicators start their bombardment, you slip out of the bridge, and tear the ship apart. Then, sabotage the hyper drive, jamming beacon, and shields. Then I can call in reinforcements. The military, Dark Council, forcing Jadus to surrender. The Eradicators will be deactivated as soon as feasible.”
Her brain was almost numb thinking about this plan.
“Thousands will die for this, at least…”
“You’re making the right choice, Cipher,” she reassured. Or is she reassuring herself? “Enter the codes at the bridge console. Let Jadus target the Eradicators however he wants. Then we sabotage the ship. I promise, his victory will be short-lived.”
Sierra stared at the console, her emotions and thoughts all meshed together in a giant blender. Her hands started shaking feverishly, recoiling at the ethics of what she was considering. As her brain worked out every possible alternative, her head hung, and her companion could swear he saw a tear climbing down her smooth face.
“Agent…” He swallowed, knowing full well the implications of what he was suggesting. “We know this is not ideal, but we will support you in whatever you decide, even if we do not like the result.” He smiled softly, hiding his pain much better than she was. “It is our Empire, too.”
She glanced at him, and saw both the hurt and undying loyalty. She nodded slowly.
“Thank you, Vector…” She faced the monitor, holding the extension that would send the codes from the chip in her HUD to the terminal. Her face started to contort now, trying harder than ever now not to openly cry. “I’m so sorry, Mom… I have to… I’m so sorry…” And so, with trembling hands, she plugged the cord from her suit into the terminal, and saw the data streaming from her system to the terminal, and saw the bright blue letters read COMMAND CONFIRMED.
She took a jagged breath as the words flickered on the terminal’s screen, and she could see Jadus looking at her victoriously, causing her stomach to churn violently several times in succession.
“A wise decision, Agent,” Jadus said triumphantly. “Our new age begins. Across the galaxy, the Eradicators will raze cities, and destroy the prizes of my enemies.”
“All right, Cipher, Jadus is distracted. Make your excuses so you can get off the bridge and sabotage the ship.”
“I’m on my way,” she said numbly.
“Your thoughts are confused. A temporary condition, for which I have an anodyne. The distress calls, the cries of fear and pain, these will be routed to the ship as the Eradicators work. A thousand voices screaming in terror, will you savor them, agent?”
As if her blood couldn’t freeze any colder, it just did. Remember the mission, damn it! Don’t let those lives be lost in vain!
“My lord, I really should run a security check.”
“So you wish to be blind to the results? So be it, but remember. You have done well.”
“Go, Cipher! Casualties are mounting!”
She tried as hard as possible to avoid running out of the room. As soon as she turned a corner, away from Jadus’s view, she did.
It didn’t take long before the intercoms went off, causing her very soul to rupture into millions of tiny pieces.
“Something’s very wrong. We’re under fire, but I don’t see any ships!”
“Emergency alert! Repeat, we are under attack!”
“We need official clearance to evacuate! We can’t—“
She was used to holding her tears. They showed weakness, one that was easily exploitable. Throughout most of her assignments throughout the past few weeks, she had been able to control her emotions while in the field, just like she was taught. Today, though, she wept. It didn’t stop her from running, but all intelligent thought was quickly evaporating from her mind as the screams from the comms ran rampant in her head. She could barely register as her HUD identified her targets to sabotage the ship, to prevent its escape. Thankfully, the goal was simply to destroy them, which was one of the only tasks her guilt-riddled mind was able to comprehend. She set her blaster rifle, and could practically hear her sister reciting the mottos of the Sith from when they were little.
Emotion is a tool. Use your anger to gain strength. Through strength, power. Through power, victory.
She cocked the rifle, and let loose with the auto-release like she had never done before. She could hear a primal roar coming from…someone, but she wasn’t sure who it was. It certainly didn’t sound like her. She watched as the machinery was ripped to shreds by the hail of blaster bullets, and only stopped several seconds after she heard the dimming of the humming sound, after there was nothing left to shred. After drowning in her hazed state of mind for a few seconds, the Watcher started talking.
“The ship is crippled, Cipher. We’ve got a fleet of warships coming in, including three Dark Council vessels. Jadus can’t win against them. But until they arrive, you need to keep him occupied on the bridge. This ship can generate internal ray shielding. You can reroute the bridge defenses to trap him. Hopefully, it will hold until the fleet lands out of hyperspeed.”
That was it. That was her sentence. This was where she would die. Oddly, she was too numb to really acknowledge it anymore. She was ready to die. But first…
“Acknowledged. And Watcher 2?”
“Yes, Cipher?”
She started swallowing hard, feeling her fear creeping up on her again.
“You guys in Intelligence know I have a sister. You’re not stupid. You even know her name.” She paused, swallowing her fear again, which left another tear to crawl down her face again. “Tell her everything. And tell her…I love her more than my home.”
There was silence on the other end, except for possibly muffled tears herself.
“I promise, Cipher. It will be done.”
Sierra’s HUD generated the same image of her and her sister on the upper right corner, ever lingering in the back of her vision as she raced back to the command deck, jaw clenched, hands gripping her rifle white-knuckled. She couldn’t feel her feet hitting the ground anymore. This was her finale. She lived her whole life as nothing. She would die a servant of the Empire. It was a much better ending than she had imagined a year ago.
She arrived to see Jadus gazing down at her. She was thankful his face was covered in that mask, or she wouldn’t be able to move.
“After all you’ve done, you still return? How bold… I never expected you to pay such a price to betray me. So many innocents burning in their homes because of you.”
She couldn’t fully hear what he was saying anymore, the blood pumping furiously in her ears. She was, however, able to respond when he brandished his lightsaber.
“Mazo nuyak ss’horunas satyi, mazo sekleti Nu satyi tave Aeuso.” A peculiar haze clouded any sense of doubt and fear in her mind as she spoke the sacred motto of her family, their claim to fame, the reason for her existence. “For the Empire!”
She had never really fought a Sith before. Sure, she playfully dueled her sister with sticks from the jungle when they were kids, but that was nothing compared to the unrestrained fury Jadus let loose upon the Agent. Immediately, he let loose a bolt of lightning, which Sierra was barely able to dodge without being incinerated. Quickly analyzing the situation, she turned to Vector.
“Vector…” She hated doing this to her new companion. “I need you to be the main distraction. Can you do that?”
He merely nodded.
“We live to serve the Empire and the nest. Doing this accomplishes both.” With that, he lunged towards the Dark Lord without any moment of hesitation. Quickly scanning the area with her HUD, she saw the first terminal she would need to activate. After shooting some slow-acting kolto packs Vector’s way, she lunged towards her target. Luckily for her, she was able to use the circuitry in her suit to start imputing commands through her rifle barrel. Unfortunately for her, Jadus wasn’t stupid. Unable to approach her directly thanks to Vector, he instead shot a stream of lightning her way.
The pain was worse than anything she had ever experienced. Sharp, fiery pain shot through her entire body as pure, Dark Side energy raced along her veins and nervous system. She cried out, how could she not, could feel the mechanics of her armor starting to smolder from the intensity. Luckily, Vector reacted quickly, smashing his electro staff into the Lord’s chin, knocking him back just long enough for him to release his lightning. Sierra recoiled from the blast for a second, but thankfully the download completed without a hitch, and she took this time window to roll behind the booth before he could shoot anything else at her. She was already breathing heavy, but she saw Vector get knocked back by a Force blast, and her mind immediately clicked.
“Vector!” Wasting no time, she came out of her hiding spot and tackled Jadus before he could lunge to finish his kill. Unfortunately, Jadus didn’t move very far, and reeled back to let out another lightning blast.
“Give it up, agent.” He said, as Sierra dodged the shot yet again. “Submit to the fate of your polluted Empire.”
She poked her hand out of her hiding spot, flicking him off.
“You’re insulting the wrong Darth, agent.” Suddenly, he shot a powerful blast at her hiding spot, disintegrating the terminal she was hiding behind. She could feel the heat and could smell the very air smoldering as the explosion wrapped around her frame. She bit back another yelp as a piece of her suit melted and dripped onto her exposed thigh. Scrapping it off with the end of her rifle, she ran towards the other side of the room, trying to buy just a little more time. Just two more preliminary panels remained, then she could activate the ray shield. But she couldn’t get close to the necessary panels anymore, Jadus was in between both of them. Then she remembered another prototype she had been working on. Flipping the hatch to her power crystal in her rifle, she rotated a dial inside the barrel, switching the power source 180 degrees, switching the crystal with an electronic uplink cable, roughly 60m by her estimate. Locating the entry port on the console far away, she took a shot at her target. Like a tether cable on a Starfighter, the cable shot out in almost a straight line, and the tip of the cord embedded into the socket, transmitting the commands through the cable that ran from the cable, through the wire, and then wirelessly from the barrel to Sierra’s integrated armor. One down, one to go.
Jadus smacked Vector in the temple, knocking him out cold within seconds, and noticed the cord linking Sierra to the terminal. After a quick slash to the cable, he whirled around, and Sierra could feel his anger from where she crouched. She saw her final preliminary terminal behind him, and started weighing her options. She cursed her brain again. Taking deep breath, she charged the ruthless Lord.
Time seemed to grind to a halt. At first taken aback by her boldness, he quickly got over it and swung his saber back, preparing for a brutal swing where she stood. Luckily, years with her sister had taught her the various lightsaber techniques Sith used, so she was able to logically predict his method of swing, and she made the first successful front flip in her whole life, barely dodging the heat of the blade. Landing on the ground, she used the rest of her momentum to slide on the ground, closing the last bit of distance between her and the terminal. Sticking out her cable converter plug-in, she slid right into the port, syncing the commands. Looking behind her, she saw Vector rising slowly to his feet. He glanced in her direction, and she motioned with her eyes towards the terminal that would activate the shield. Nodding silently, he silently ran over to the terminal, and Sierra ran the numbers. The shield would only activate at the center of the bridge, as per Imperial protocol in the past few years. She had recognized the design of the ship. This meant she would have to lure him into the center, roughly 30m away from where Jadus was preparing another blast in her direction, to finally end her existence. After dodging it again, she glanced at the image of her sister, her and Sierra holding hands like caring sisters, before the war, before they swore their lives to something bigger than themselves, before the Republic sent mercenaries like the cowards they were… Her jaw clenched, and she let go of her soul.
She ran towards the Sith Lord, screaming a similar primal sound she heard earlier, but this time she recognized it as her spirit, manifesting itself in this one, last moment of her life. As predicted, Jadus let loose one final burst of lightning at his opponent, and it connected with a thundering blast. She cried out once more, feeling the same, piercing pain shoot through her body once again. She froze in her tracks as her armor started shooting sparks as the circuitry started burning to a crisp. Her vision started failing as the pain started working overtop of the adrenals that still lingered in her system. She struggled for breath, and could barely see that she was directly facing the center of the bridge. Her HUD fizzled out of existence, the picture of her past disintegrating into less than a memory. She only had enough energy to do one final act. She struggled to reach for her belt, and pulled out a single grenade. She glanced at the enemy, reveling in the moment of his glory, and pressed the button.
A loud explosion ripped through the air as the grenade blasted the two combatants apart. Sierra was knocked to the ground, losing all control of her body at this point. Jadus, unprepared for the explosion, was pushed back a fair distance, chest still smoldering from the heat of the blast. He made another move to lunge at his victim, but was surprised to hear a loud hum, followed by a large, red box encasing him where he stood. Vector immediately ran to the Agent’s side, who could only shrug him away with one hand, barely able to speak.
“No… Get to the terminal…” She gave him the plug-in with the shut-down code. “Go… Don’t worry about me…” He took the cord and ran off.
“Your cage cannot hold me,” Jadus warned. “Whatever you hope to achieve, your moment will pass.”
Sierra chuckled quietly.
“Don’t…worry,” she grunted. “It will…work long enough…”
As if on cue, at least a dozen warships landed out of hyperspace, opening fire on the weakened ship’s defenses. Jadus, recognizing his defeat, turned to look at Sierra with what was probably a look of absolute hatred.
“Long live the Empire, Jadus…”
******************************************************************************
“…Agent…”
She couldn’t see anything, could barely feel anything. Her eyes flickered between half-open and dead closed. As she slowly regained her senses, she could feel the Kolto padding system inside her armor clumsily but steadily applying enough of the substance in her system to keep her hovering just above death. Gaining enough energy to speak at least, she narrowed in on the holo-form of Keeper trying to contact her.
“Agent. The fleet has arrived to intervene. Reports claim the Eradicators have been disabled. What’s the situation?”
She slowly rose to her feet, gesturing toward the caged Sith near her.
“Why don’t you talk to the man yourself?”
“Yes, I think I’ll do just that.”
After a brief conversation between the two of them, Jadus addressed the Agent.
“Tell me, Cipher 9: was your victory worth it? Hoe many lives would have sacrificed to capture me?”
His question shot a bullet into her heart.
“You were the orchestrator of this mess, not me!” she seethed.
“I recognized your little creed, you know. I wouldn’t have expected such crudeness from the Visteus bloodline.”
All at once, every single mental barrier she had ever erected around her disintegrated like they never existed. Thankfully, Vector felt the shift and held her back. Otherwise, she would have tried to punch the barrier to shreds herself.
“You…have no business…” she ranted. “Fouling my name…you piece of filth!”
“Under my control,” he continued. “The Eradicator’s purge would have destroyed the Empire’s rot. Now the Dark Council will reassert its strength. They will punish me or destroy me. Without a revolution, their cruel, pointless reign will go on. Is that really what you want?”
For one, small moment, one could have mistaken the agent for the Emperor.
“I hope you burn…” With that promise, she shoved Vector off of her and started walking away. Once her back was turned, her rage melted into the all-too-familiar despair. Before she could start crying again, though, Watcher Two appeared with a platoon of soldiers.
“Watcher Two here. Congratulations on the capture of the traitor.” She studied Sierra’s battered and bloodied form. “Are you ok?”
She chuckled dryly.
“Do I look all right to you, Watcher Two?”
“No, I guess not. You’ve been through quite a lot.”
After they finished talking, the Watcher announced that Agent Sinnlich was being awarded a brief leave of absence, in honor of her achievements. As she and Vector reached their ship, he noted all the destroyed equipment that was still smoldering on Sierra’s body.
“Agent…” He seemed to stumble over the words, as if trying to soften the blow Jadus had dealt. “We’re sorry about the damage to your equipment. We’re sure it cost quite a lot.”
All Sierra heard was the unspoken question. She stared at the ground for several seconds, trying to gather her thoughts.
“The Visteus family is revered within the Empire. We have had generations of people in all aspects of Imperial society, and whenever we didn’t, we had powerful friends who were.” Her hands started shaking. “My sister and I… We’re the next generation in the line… And…” She couldn’t take much more of this. “We’re...also the last.”
She felt his hand on her shoulder, and when she looked up to see his face, calmly studying her, she felt her last wall shatter. She grabbed him fiercely, embracing him like a swimmer grabs a life-ring for safety. She buried her face in his shoulder, not caring about anything else but the two of them anymore. As they stood there, letting Sierra empty herself onto him, she could feel some of her pain ebbing away. In its place, however, she felt something strange. It wasn’t the usual feeling of partnership she had felt on Alderaan, or Hutta, or the Dominator. It wasn’t even friendship. No, she could feel this feeling rise out of some pit in her soul, and she soon realized what that feeling was.
No.
With that, she broke away from his embrace, wiping the last few tears from her eyes. Looking into Vector’s eyes, it was almost impossible to tell what he was feeling. He smiled warmly, though, and she felt her body relax. Now’s not the time for that, and you know it.
“Sleep,” he said. “You’ll feel better then.”
She nodded slowly, and opened the door to their ship, and they left the destroyer ship, where Jadus’s words, as well as the civilians continued to ring clear in her mind, even as she tried to drift off into sleep a few minutes later. In between these thoughts, however, the only thing her mind could think of was his face.
Author's Notes:
This was the moment in the story when I fell in love with Sierra as a character. My hands were trembling the entire time I was fighting him, and it was the first time a DS decision made me feel slightly sick inside. Superb writing on the writers' part, and I can't get enough of it. I like observing the contrast between this confrontation and the one with Malgus I posted earlier. Great stuff.
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Comments:
@alaurin: This is getting good! I really like your descriptions of the characters, and the subtle gestures in between them. Makes for really good humor.
@Jamags Awesome: Yes! The Marr disguise worked! You have no idea how happy I am! I also really like your two Jedi. I can tell they're gonna be fantastic to read.
Ok, so I'm finally ready to post something (I blame RL. I figure it's a good enough excuse
). For the prompt Milestones, I've got my SW Giselle once again, how fitting. I'm actually really proud of this one. I'm kind of amazed, to be honest.With 1832 words, this contains spoilers for the Voss storyline for the Warrior questline. Here's The Darkest Heart:
“Defiler…” the voice rumbled. “Trespasser… Sel-Makor warns… Retreat… Relent… Death awaits…”
Her eyes darted around the narrow hallway, waiting for the owner of the disembodied voice to jump her or something. Her apprentice gripped the hilt of her lightsaber tighter.
“I’ve got your back, Master,” said Jaesa, taking a few steps away from the door they had just opened with a murderous glint in her eye. “No one will come through me. Well, not in one piece, anyway.”
Not really looking at her, Giselle nodded in her general direction.
“Stay right here. No living thing is to set foot in this chamber without my say-so. Clear?”
“Skaidrus,” she replied, mirroring her master’s use of the Sith word for crystal.
“No closer…” The voice seemed louder this time. “Desist… Death embodied… Death…itself…”
The Sith clenched her jaw.
“Yep. This is it. The Voice is here. No doubt about it.”
Stepping into the chamber, it was clear this was the end. There were no tunnels leading anywhere besides where they came. The chamber was decorated in the same manner as the others all over Voss, torches with light blue flames dotted the walls, a small pool of water served as a centerpiece. At the far end, she noticed a figure. She could feel a cold sensation creeping over her skin. It brushed the very tip of her senses, but seeped deep into her flesh. Her mainhand flew into her hand instinctively, still sheathed, but ready to go as she slowly made her way across the room to the mysterious person facing away from her. As she got closer, it was evident he was Voss, clothed in the familiar garb of the local Mystics. Every step she took, however, both confirmed and denied his existence as a Voss, the cold sensation intensifying with every step. Suddenly, he spoke.
“Wrath. Come to me.”
His voice lacked the distinctive echo of Sel-Makor’s from a minute prior. In fact, it seemed more subdued, but it shoved its way into her spirit all the same. The Voss turned to face her, and she immediately returned her weapon to her belt.
“I am your Emperor.”
Those four words alone broke all semblance of control she had managed to maintain during her trek through the Dark Heart, but the way his eyes suddenly and briefly glowed a bright red confirmed his statement of fact. The glow washed over her, subtly bringing her to her knees without her realizing. His words brought her gaze to the floor, not daring to look into his eyes directly.
“My lord Emperor,” she whispered, daring to breathe even that phrase.
“The noble line of Visteus…” he mused. “How appropriate that a survivor of the ever-loyal family of the Empire has been chosen for this role. Is that not so?”
Still bending over, she blinked furiously.
“Your favor…honors me greatly, my lord Emperor.”
The Voice chuckled.
“You are a loyal servant, as you have always been. Rise, my Wrath.”
She obeyed, bringing her gaze to meet his for the first time. While the glow was no longer visible, she could still feel the power radiating through him.
“Darth Baras plays the old games,” he started. “He maneuvered me here knowing this body could be bound to this place.” He seemed to glare at one of the several stone monuments in the chamber. Giselle was surprised it didn’t explode from simply being in his presence. At the mention of Baras, however, her nerves reignited.
“Baras has played me for the last time,” she growled. “I will make Baras pay for every deceit.”
“My exit is paramount,” he reminded her, and her energy dissolved as quickly as it had festered. “Sel-Makor’s dark secrets here are of import, but they can wait.”
A small part of her mind briefly wondered what exactly the Emperor would be searching for, but she quickly decided asking for his reasons was like drinking a planet. Not only was it stupid, it was also literally impossible.
“I must be released,” he continued. “Another time…I will return for what I require.”
She nodded, bowing slightly.
“I am yours to command, my lord Emperor. Tell me what must be done.”
“I am released only when this body dies,” he explained, “an oversight I will not repeat. But for now, the entity Sel-Makor makes suicide impossible. I will lower my defenses, and use my Wrath to kill this body.”
Her face quickly paled at what he was suggesting.
“There is no need for hesitation,” he said, obviously sensing her concern. “I will not die from a mortal blade, and I have commanded it.”
Some of her impending guilt was relieved at his reassurance.
“I am yours to command, my lord Emperor. It will be done according to your command.”
“I am ready,” he replied, clenching his fists. “Strike me down!”
Upon her mainhand reaching her palm, however, the room began to shake.
“No!” She recognized the voice as Sel-Makor’s from earlier. “Forever…bound!”
The room suddenly felt a million degrees colder. The Voice began to twitch uncontrollably, shimmering in both red and purple light. Her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her bangs as she watched, an unfamiliar sensation slicing its way through her veins. The lightshow suddenly died down, the red light completely taken over by dark purple. His eyes glowed the same color.
“Sel-Makor takes this body! Such…power!!”
Her breath caught, coming in ragged bursts as the entity’s energy cascaded over her. It was then she understood. This feeling…was pure terror. Both hilts flew to her hands now, igniting the room in the deep red that was now missing. She bent low, getting into position, and suddenly, the fear was gone. She felt a subtle, and yet prominent, presence gently feel its way through her. At that moment, she didn’t feel terror. She only felt rage.
The possessed Voice punched the air, sending a ripple of energy crashing towards her. She dug her foot in, crossing her blades in front of her in an X, slicing the attack before it could reach her. Condensing her energy, she let out a battle cry, sending her energy through her scream as she sliced the air in front of her. Sel-Makor was knocked back by the blast, landing on his back several feet away. Not missing a beat, she leapt towards him, blades raised to slice him in two. He anticipated the obvious closer, rising to his feet quickly and rolling out of the way, sending another powerful blast in her direction. Somehow, she sensed the blast before it was ever unleashed, already spinning away from its destination. Using the spin as momentum, she flung her offhand saber like a Frisbee, slicing through the air towards the entity. He ducked, the blade barely missing his chin, and so was unprepared for another leap towards him. Her right foot connected with his face, slamming his body to the ground before he could react. While pinned, he blasted her with energy, sending her flying through the air so he could return to his feet.
Like a manka cat, she landed on her feet, not missing a beat, as always. He rushed towards her unexpectedly, dark purple energy dripping from his hands. He flicked his wrists, her hands flying far away from her center against her will, and clenched her exposed face with his bare hand.
She screamed as Sel-Makor clenched harder, pushing his energy into her body, setting her soul on fire. It burned through her senses, drowning out all else. She tried to send a panicked mental signal to Jaesa, but found herself blocked. The pain intensifying, she quickly came up with a plan. A stupid plan, but what plan wasn’t stupid at this point, really? She shut down her defenses, and let the energy in.
She couldn’t breathe, drowning in the black water that was filling her body. She choked, trying to find air in the Dark Side but failing. Quickly, she instead drew from Sel-Makor himself. It stung as it raced through her veins, but she could suddenly breathe again, her senses dulled but still there. Before the entity could realize what was happening, she broke through his trap, and shoved her blade through his stomach.
She felt a snap echo in her mind, and then a sensation of spilling water, pouring out of a hole in the cup, draining into an unfathomable void. As it did, her senses returned, and the cool air sent ripples as it passed in and out of her lungs. As the world went from black, to monochrome, and then to full color, she observed the twitching figure of the Voss, the purple energy spilling out of the hole in his vessel’s chest.
“No!” it cried, sending its body through convulsions as it attempted to retain its weapon. Eventually, the purple stopped pouring, replaced with a soft, red glow.
“The entity…is vanquished,” the Voice announced, returning to the voice of the Emperor. “The life in this body is…ebbing.” He gazed at the exhausted form of Giselle. “You have done well, my Wrath.”
His voice crackled slightly, breaking off in certain points in his syllables like the audio cables kept coming out.
“Once I am released, the Hand will know all that has transpired. I cannot be trapped twice. They will continue to guide you in your efforts to ruin Darth Baras’s bid.”
This time, the name failed to rustle her so strongly. She felt the familiar tingle of rage upon remembering his actions against her, but they didn’t strengthen her as much as they usually did. Nevertheless, she bowed.
“As you decree, my lord Emperor. Baras will pay dearly for his crimes.”
“Revenge drives and burns with great intensity,” he said, “but it is a mortal fuel that leaves the tank bare.”
She recognized the words, spoken to her by her instructors over the years. Normally, she would be dumbfounded that he knew those words of her past, but his presence still removed any sense of disbelief.
“Voss holds no further interest for you,” he commanded. “Return to your ship. This…body…is expiring.”
With those words, the Voss’s legs came out from under him. He crumbled to floor in front of her, the body dead before it hit the floor. When it did, the cold sensation slowly dissolved away, replaced with the slight humidity of the jungle outside.
She realized she was shivering in spite of that.
To most Imperials, the Emperor was a rallying cry, to be sure, but no one even dared to dream of meeting the Emperor, not even the Sith. Even within Visteus, a family not well-known for their Force-Sensitivity, the Emperor was revered, the basis for the Empire’s continued existence. And now, not only had she met such a deity, but she had solidified her position as his Wrath. The combination of awe and terror was unlike anything she had ever experienced. As she sensed Jaesa’s presence rushing towards her, she was reminded of her original goal, which was not yet complete.
Author's Notes:
I hope you don't mind if I added a few pieces of dialogue for the scenes from in-game. I always feel like I need to slightly bend things to acknowledge specific details to my characters. This was a really cool moment for me in the story, and I doubt Giselle will ever forget it.
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@JamagsAwesome: There's something about the way you write that fascinates me. It looks simplistic on the surface, but is actually very solid. Nothing really gets in the way of what you're trying to describe, and I love all of it.
As for the new prompts, holy cow, that's a lot!
This is gonna take me a bit.
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I had this problem a while back. Thank God I managed to fix it.
For me, it was computer related, performance reasons. The data, at some point, becomes too much to handle, for reasons computer-specific.
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So I wrote a story! It's kind of a background piece for my Bounty Hunter, Apokteina. It ran away from me really hard.
Notes:
-Night of the Living Prompt: Family
-Contains spoilers for Bounty Hunter story.
-Story is set not long after the completion of the original pre-expansion BH story.
-All planets mentioned actually exist and are known at the time of SWTOR, according to Legends-level canon. I spent probably two hours distracted reading Wookieepedia in my research.
-This was originally supposed to be formatted as kind of a journal entry, but that ended up not happening. Because reasons.
-3,400 words.
-Yes, I'm talking about cherry pancakes (you'll know it when you read it
)Holy cow, that was incredible. Very deep and thoughtful. Great descriptions of her first, and totally random and lucky, kills. I loved every second of it!
A friendly note on formatting, for the future: try adding an extra paragraph mark in between each paragraph, to set them apart, since tabbing each line doesn't really translate from Word to the forums.
Looking forward to more!!
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My entry for Irresistible Urges is here! This one is pretty light-hearted this time. No deaths, no self-deprivation whatsoever! Yay!
With 665 words, featuring Giselle and Sierra once more, no spoilers, this is Sensations:
All the lights were off in the house, save for the occasional, silent lightning strike from the distant storm steadily getting closer. As far as 16-year-old Sierra could tell, it was roughly 2 in the morning. No one else was awake.
She tred on just her toes, cringing as each step made the wooden floor of the house creak, the silence amplifying the usually soft sound. It was bad enough she was doing this at all, never mind that it was the middle of the night, getting ready to raid the kitchen like some 40-year-old lady who had just given up on her diet.
As she finally reached the fridge, she scolded herself. She was only after one thing, really: the small box of chocolates she had bought from the store the previous day. While her mother had put them in the fridge, to save them for tomorrow when their father came back from his trip to Balmorra, Sierra had woken up suddenly with the urge to take just one piece of the candy for the umpteenth time in a row.
She had opened this fridge hundreds of times before, knew exactly where to hold the door as it opened to avoid any creaking of the hinges. Quickly pushing down the sensor with her left hand, she kept the light off, so no one would see the light from the inside. She didn’t need to see the box to know where it was. She carefully reached into the dark, pulling out a box about twice the size of her hand. Gently closing the fridge door, she retreated a few steps to the side, crouching slightly as she matched the height of the kitchen counter nearby. As long as she didn’t move from this spot, it was impossible to be noticed.
The back of her mind continued to scold her as she pulled back the packaging she had secretly pre-opened when she had bought it, mocking her for her gluttony, but as soon as she put the first piece of chocolate on her tongue, her thoughts melted faster than the chocolate.
She let a small sigh escape her lips as she savored the flavor, all inhibitions completely gone. It was gone too quickly for her liking, and her instinct quickly reached for another piece, all logic dissolving into the candy she was now devouring.
It was then that the lightning outside flashed again, briefly filling the room with bright light, and Sierra was quick to see the outline of her older sister, apparently trying to sneak her way back to the bedrooms.
Both girls froze instinctively, staring at one another like deer in the headlights. Sierra could actually see pretty well in the dark, and she knew Giselle could make up for what she couldn’t see with the Force. They were both busted.
“The hell are you doing?” Giselle whispered first, not trying very hard to contain her disgust. “It’s two in the morning.”
“I could ask the same to you,” Sierra retorted, taking a closer look at her older sister’s tight-fitting outfit. “You were with that Zabrak again, weren’t you?”
Even in the dark, she could see Giselle blush ever so slightly.
“Like you ever cared about my love life.”
“I don’t,” she agreed, “but Mom and Dad certainly do, and I’m pretty sure you’ll have it far worse than I will if you blab.”
Catching the hint, the Sith-in-training blinked several times, thinking over the situation.
“Look,” she said, trying to not sound desperate, “how about this: I won’t blab if you won’t blab. Please? You know I’ll get screwed if I’m caught…” She paused. “And if it comes out that you knew…”
Sierra paled at the realization.
“It’s a deal.” She climbed to her feet, making her way to the fridge to return the box to the fridge. “Now, let’s hurry back before they—“
The kitchen suddenly filled with light.
“Well, ****.”
Author's Notes:
Characterization through backstories is always fun, especially when I get to show Giselle's younger, less-responsible side. The two of them are so cute together.
Thank you for reading!
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Here's mine for Lost and Found, featuring both Giselle and Sierra again. Both Warrior and Agent spoilers once again. This one is much longer, and I PROMISE THIS ONE ENDS ON A POSITIVE NOTE THIS TIME. Sort of.
With 2357 words, this is The Last Ones:
She slept for almost 14 hours straight. It was the best 14 hours of her life.
She had defeated Ardun Kothe on Quesh, prevented the release of the Shadow Arsenal. And now, she was bloody tired.
Rising from her bed slowly, she heard the loud beeping of the holo-terminal in the ship, signaling an arriving holocall.
“We will answer it, Agent,” replied Vector. “You really should return to resting.”
Sierra shook her head.
“Honestly, just that much sleep makes me feel incredible. I’ll take care of it.”
Gathering her things from the desk next to her, the Cipher agent made her way to the bridge, trying to flatten her bright red hair the best she could. When she arrived at the terminal, Keeper’s image appeared.
“Secure transmission established,” she recited. “I’m sorry for cutting your recuperation so short, Cipher, but something has come up.”
The agent sighed knowingly.
“You wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important,” she said. “What’s the situation?”
“We have a transmission for you,” Keeper explained. “He wanted to contact you as soon as possible. Standby while I transfer you.”
The image of the woman flickered away, replaced by a heavy-set man in bright, metal armor, complete with his mask.
“Is this the one they call Cipher 9?”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied, instantly recognizing the man as Sith. “What is it?”
“I’m not entirely sure I like that tone of yours…but I’ll let it slide just this once. I am Darth Baras. Your older sister is my apprentice.”
Her face betrayed confusion.
“Indeed, my lord, though I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“I understand you are recuperating from a recent assignment for Intelligence. Regardless, I’d like to meet with you in my new chambers on Korriban. As soon as possible.”
“What exactly will we be discussing?” she inquired.
“You really need to work on your manners, agent. I have the power here. You can find out when you arrive.”
She bit her tongue furiously, maintaining her composure.
“Of course, my lord. I’ll be on my way immediately.”
“That’s much better. I look forward to seeing you in person.”
As the transmission ended, Keeper reappeared on the terminal.
“I’m sorry, Cipher. I tried to tell him you were recuperating, but he was insistant.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied casually. “I’ll be back on Dromund Kaas as soon as I’m done. We’ll see if you have some spare time.”
“I’ll make some if I have to,” she agreed. “It’s good to hear from you again after so long.”
She had been on Korriban once before, when Zhorrid had summoned her to her new chambers to discuss the investigation of Jadus’s supposed murder. The natural vibe from the planet had freaked her out before, and it still did, to an extent, but much less than before. She had gotten used to darkness. It had taken all of two minutes to explain she was Cipher 9, under orders from the influential Darth Baras, and another three to find his chambers in the Sith Academy. Upon finding him, she was thankful she had decided to leave her companions on the ship. This Sith radiated power simply by looking away from her, and she worried how the others would’ve responded to him, especially Kaliyo.
“Ah, good, the Cipher arrives,” he mused, his voice rumbling through the breather in his mask. “I’ve heard about your recent exploits within the SIS. Impressive work, removing that Jedi.”
A thousand different nightmares flared back to life in her mind, and she had to quickly shut them out before her reaction became visible. He’s playing with you. Trying to trip you up. Don’t let him.
“You honor me, my lord,” she replied, bowing. “Why did you summon me?”
“Patience, child. I will explain.” He began pacing back and forth. “As I’m sure you know, the Treaty of Coruscant has been crumbling into dust with each passing day, and war is but an inch away. Once it does, the Republic will bend before us, and the Sith way will prevail.”
“Absolutely, lord Baras,” she agreed. “The Empire will prevail.”
“Your words sound slightly hollow,” he noted. “Is your loyalty…waning?”
Sierra blinked furiously, trying to stay focused.
“Sorry, my lord. No, it is not. It’s just been…trying…the past few days.”
“Understandable, coming from your position. Just make sure to not forget.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“Now, I sought to enact a series of victories that would leave the Republic in shambles and unable to retaliate once we strike. My master and I called it Plan Zero. I dispatched my apprentice, your sister, to the corners of the galaxy to achieve this end, and we have succeeded. Now, war is all but certain.”
“Certainly, that’s good news.”
“Indeed. Afterwards, my master met an untimely death in his chambers, and so I have risen to claim his position here on Korriban and on the Dark Council. To celebrate, I sent your sister to Quesh, hoping to defeat a Republic sabotage attempt.”
“Doesn’t quite sound like a great vacation spot, my lord,” she commented.
“Not to you, perhaps,” he replied. “But battle and conflict are like air to us Sith, and my apprentice was particularly good at breathing that air.”
She didn’t miss his use of the past tense.
“Was?” she inquired, confused. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, and that action made her stomach churn violently.
“I sent her to the planet to quash the attempt, but I’ll admit, that was four days ago. My scouts report an explosion in one of the abandoned mining facilities, where it was believed the sabotage team was stationed. I can only presume the attempt failed, but I have heard no word from my apprentice.”
Every word out of his mouth made her blood freeze just a little colder, made her heart race just a little faster, making his words harder and harder to hear. She couldn’t understand. She couldn’t believe. Something was wrong. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. She swallowed, trying to maintain her cool.
“Have your scouts investigated?” she inquired. “It’s possible she was trapped or something. Or her communications are just faulty. Quesh has that tendency.”
“That’s what I thought as well,” he replied, voice unchanging. “A team was sent out yesterday, but they couldn’t find her or her compatriots. All they managed to find…was this.”
She looked down at what was in his hand, and her heart froze for real.
One of the marks of being in the Visteus bloodline was the rieve, otherwise known as the emblem of the family. It was usually engraved onto a light red stone, which was placed in an object of the person’s choosing, usually a ring or some other kind of jewelry. Giselle had chosen to wear it on a ring she wore on her left hand, while Sierra had originally wore hers as a necklace, though her introduction into Intelligence and her subsequent additions to her newly-created power suit were forcing her to find other places for it, possibly near the power core. The point, was that it never left the person’s side. Not until death, and even then, it was burned along with the body during the funeral. What she was seeing, in Baras’s hand, was Giselle’s ring.
It was a dark gold in color, bright enough to be seen as gold, but dark enough to mix with any color clothing the wearer desired. It wasn’t anything too extravagant, a single, metal band, with the gemstone and emblem on the front of it. Turning it in her hand, she found the engraving inside the band, Giselle’s name written in the ancient Sith language. It wasn’t all-important, but stood out all the same. A perfect metaphor for their heritage.
As she studied the ring in her hand, she only faintly recognized her vision burring with quiet tears. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel. Nothing in her mind could even attempt to console her. She hadn’t really seen Giselle in two years, had suffered through more than a year’s worth of holocalls, forced to watch but never answer. She hadn’t even been given the opportunity to reply, to apologize for not being there, for…for…
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to not cry openly in front of the Sith, her basic training kicking in against her will.
“I have put in a commendation within Intelligence,” Baras said quietly. “I have given you a week of leave, under my orders. You have my condolences.”
Sierra choked back a sob, trying to take deep breaths to keep her voice as level as possible.
“I appreciate it…my lord.” It wasn’t working.
“Giselle was a fine Sith,” he explained. “If luck had been in her favor, she would’ve done many more things for the Empire. It is a shame. Now, you are dismissed.”
Nodding silently, she swallowed, trying desperately to keep her face level.
She managed to survive the trek to her ship without bursting into tears. It was only when Kaliyo asked if they should get out of there that she started to crack.
“Dromund Kaas,” she replied. “Let’s get out of here.”
Everyone who heard her noted the slight squeak in the first bit, and the slight rasp in the second. Thankfully, no one decided to press the matter. Upon landing on the Imperial capital, she gave everyone the day off.
“I’ll call when it’s time to come back,” she told them, still clutching her sister’s ring in her left hand. Vector looked at her with worry.
“Agent…we sense something wrong. Is everything all right?”
Her sorrow crashed into her walls; she fought hard to not outright cry.
“I…I really can’t talk about it right now, Vector…” she replied quietly, so much so that he could barely hear her. “I just can’t do this with so many people here…”
“Then let us come with you,” he insisted.
She paused at his suggestion.
“I won’t stop you.”
The trip to the facility was completely silent, save for the hum of the traffic around them. Eventually, they reached Intelligence headquarters, and Keeper was there almost immediately to greet them.
“Ah, Cipher, it’s good to see you,” she beamed, walking towards her and Vector. “I managed to find a small break in my timetable, so I thought we could—“ She paused, her trained eyes catching her distress.
“Cipher? What happened? What’s wrong?”
The agent didn’t answer. Instead, she hugged Keeper fiercely, burying her face into her shoulder.
It was only then that she let herself cry.
They had quickly found a small room to the side for the two fo them, Vector remaining behind for a while. Once they were alone, Sierra explained everything Baras had told her.
“I’m so sorry, Cipher,” she said quietly.
“I mean…” the agent scrambled for the ability to speak, eyes slightly bloodshot. “It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it at some point, you know? She’s Sith, and we both know Sith normally have pretty terrible mortality rates. I just… She was…the only one…I had left…” She clenched the hand that held her sister’s ring, fighting back another wave of tears.
As the genetically-enhanced Keeper watched her break down, unable to console her, the intercom went off.
“Agent,” Vector said hesitantly, “we hate to interrupt, but there’s something you need to see.”
She shook her head.
“Not now, Vector…”
“Agent, trust us. You’ll want to see this message.”
She growled at his insistence.
“Fine. Put it through.”
The com turned off, and the holo-projector in the room turned on, centering to an image of a familiar-looking Sith.
“What the hell? Am I on the answering machine again?! Pick up the damn holo, Sierra!”
Her eyes widened bigger than they ever had in her whole life.
“G-giselle?” she breathed.
“Fine, whatever. I hope to God you’re getting these somehow, through some convoluted scheme through Imperial Intelligence or something. Not that you’d be involved in any of that kind of stuff.”
The Sith adjusted her position on the wall she was leaning on, her left leg obviously broken.
“Look, it’s apparently been two days, so Baras’s probably found you already, told you I died on Quesh. Despite what my leg tells me, I’m actually alive, but you won’t be for much longer if you stay on Dromund Kaas. He knows everything about you, Sierra. He tried to remove me from the equation because I’m a threat. He’s trying to sell himself as the Voice of the Emperor.”
The agent gave the holo-vid a look that was one part confusion, one part amazement, and one part disgust.
“I know, I know,” Giselle continued, “total ********. That’s not a job you sign up for, but apparently enough of the Council is going to approve of his maneuver unless I do something about it. I was found by Sith claiming to be the Hand. According to them, the Emperor himself wants Baras removed, so I’ve been named his Wrath, with the one goal of removing Baras before he destroys the Empire.”
She turned to look behind her.
“Pierce! Quinn! Quit arguing, or I’ll beat you with my good leg this time!”
She turned back.
“Look, you need to get out of there. We should still have some contacts who remained after everything went down. Get yourself off-world until this gets resolved. Cause let me tell you, when I get to Baras, I’m gonna kick his face in so hard, you won’t even see it anymore.”
She seemed to remember something.
“Oh yeah. I can’t find my ring, which probably means Baras took it. Probably gave it to you to confirm I was dead. Normally, I’d just drop on by to pick it up, but I need to stay as inconspicuous as possible. The longer Baras thinks I’m dead, the easier things will be. So…hold onto it for me, will you? I’ll be back. I promise.”
The projection flickered away, fading into darkness. Sierra just sat there, unmoving. Slowly, she stared at the ring in her hand, remembering when Giselle first showed it to her, during Giselle’s 13th birthday.
“I’ll get this back to you,” she whispered quietly, letting her own voice soothe her. “Somehow.”
Author's Notes:
Unfortunately for Sierra, she's got her own conspiracy to deal with pretty soon.
Anyway, I told you this one was positive. Ok, it was mostly sad, but it had a happy ending. I'm pretty sure the next one will be nothing sad whatsoever, so look forward to that! I love my little operative, though sometimes I want to snuggle with a chibi Sierra and reassure her that everything's going to be okay. She goes through a lot of development in her story.
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For one thing, there is not an unsub button. At least for me. I use game time cards, so when they run out, it's out.
For another, I pretty clearly outlined a process of slowly dying. Over years. It's certainly not dead yet.
See, people like you are the 95% I don't expect any insight from.
21st century f...d up humanity so bad, it's not even funny anymore.
I gotta be honest. What do you really want to hear? Do you truly want a discussion? Of course not. This is a good-bye thread. You're only posting your opinions, which I almost consider real cliches at this point. Insulting other players for having a different opinion is unnecessary.
I disagree with this post because of its overblown nature. As a writer, I puke at such overblown, overly-flowery language that sounds pretty but has no substance.
You're free to drop if you really feel this way. I, however, along with many others, will continue on without you. And we'll be happy for it.
If this post was not meant to host any kind of reasonable discussion, then it should NEVER HAVE BEEN POSTED. Forums are for communication. If that's not your desire, then go home. We all have better things to do, I bet.
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Comments:
@JamagsAwesome: Wow... That one cut deep. Like...the characterization for him was the exact same as before, but it was darker and everything BECAUSE it was the same... Nicely done!
And I really enjoyed your Green Jedi stuff. I don't know much about them, so I hope you touch more on that stuff in the future!
The third one was also really interesting. The switch in perspectives was so subtle, I missed it twice and had to re-read it repeatedly. Great use of Legacy.
@Mirdthestrill: I always like origin stories like this one. It's always great to take notice of the family the character may leave behind in order to live out the class story. Nicely done!
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@JamagsAwesome: I think I was laughing every other line. Fantastic. Can't wait to read more of this!
@nervousheroA: Welcome to the thread!Doubts: Can I have more Pierce plz?
Darkness: I am curious about Valerie's past now. She seems to be more familiar with the Emperor than the ordinary JK.
Shadows that Kill: Very fitting for the prompt. And again you leave me with a lot of questions.
Noisy Droids: You really can't blame Vette for trying.
Thank you! Hopefully, I can keep showing more of these characters, cause they tend to be my three favorites of my large bundle of people.
Anyway, for You Can't Always Get what You Want, Sierra the Operative is making a return with a snippet of her origin story! I'm going to flag this as extreme depression, just to be safe. Nothing suicidal, but the next level down, so to speak. With 452 words, this one is relatively short.
No spoilers, here's Failure:
She only vaguely remembered plopping down on the bed.
Yet here she was, sitting on her bed, crunched into a little ball because she thought it would shield herself from the world around her. Sierra felt the tears returning, and knew she was failing.
It had been about a week since their death, and pretty much nothing could sway her from the horror of watching their own summer home burst into flames overnight. Her parents died covered in fire, and her brother disappeared after the fire started. She was the only one to be salvaged from the rubble by the time the rescue units arrived. Thank the Force Giselle hadn’t been there, already on a shuttle to Korriban.
She ran her hands through her bright red hair, as if attempting to rub off her sorrow, and was caught off-guard by how bright her hair was. It was often described it as a fiery red, and immediately thought of the fire again. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her round face with her hands, choosing to cover her tears from the rest of the world, hooping it made any kind of difference.
She managed to drag her body to a sitting position, trying to focus on a few words she remembered hearing from Mother. Imperials and Sith alike distinguish themselves because of their work ethic. If they want something, they WORK for it. By working and striving, they gain their position legitimately, and by doing so, earn respect. If you truly want something, you REACH for it. It will not be handed to you.
There was a break from her tears then, as she listened to her memories. She pondered their meaning, like when she was little.
What do I want? She choked on another sob. But that’s impossible, and you know it. You can’t bring them back no matter how hard you work.
She glanced at the recruiting poster behind her, embroidered with a cartoon rendering of Darth Malgus, striking two Jedi down in a single blow as three soldiers covered his flank, shouting in giant letters to sign up for the military, to defend their Empire against its many enemies. Dejectedly, she reached for her candy bar sitting on her table.
You’ve applied five times in the past two weeks. All five times, you were rejected at the door, and everyone and their pets know why. You can’t pull that off, look at you. You’ll never be good enough for that kind of stamina. She fell back into the covers of her bed, her tears matching the rhythm of the rain hitting her window.
“Some Imperial you turned out to be…” she muttered, taking a bite of the candy bar.
It was then she remembered the date.
Today was her birthday. She was now 19.
And she had nothing to show for it.
Author's Notes:
I promise I'll make the next entry much brighter, to compensate. Basically, Giselle got the news about their deaths about an hour away from Korriban. You can imagine how well that turned out. Poor Sierra still has about a month to go before she turns her life around.
And thank you guys for all the support! It means far more to me than I can describe.
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This one is for the NotLP, Words, Words, Words. Starring my SW Giselle once more, takes place in between Nar Shaddaa and Tatooine in the story (though it's mentioned very vaguely).
With 960 words, this is my entry, Noisy Droids.
Travelling to Tatooine was about as eventful as being on the dust ball itself.
They had been in hyperspace for two hours at this point. The Sith apprentice Gewalt had retreated to her training room half an hour ago, deciding to spend the time beating up on the helpless training dummy, Malavai Quinn was reviewing the documentation on their recent trip to Nar Shaddaa, and Vette, yet again, was trying to reprogram 2V-R8 to be less annoying. So far, she wasn’t successful.
“May interest you with a foot massage, master?” the droid inquired, not reacting to the Twi-lek’s insistent probing into his circuitry.
“I’ll pass, 2V.” Squinting, she reached her arm further into his chest cavity. “Come on, you useless droid.”
“If you have any complaints about my quality of service, please contact my manufacturer. The holo-frequency is located near my—“
“I’ve got it, 2V!” Clenching her face, she twisted another section at random. “Almost got it…” She was interrupted by an arc of electricity shooting from the afflicted droid part.
All Quinn heard was the droid’s question, followed by a loud bang. He practically flew from his chair, only to find the Twi-lek laying on the ground several feet away from the now smoldering droid, her right arm slightly singed.
“What did you do?” he inquired, staring at the disaster field before him.
“Ow…” She glared at him. “I was TRYING to get to his core, so I could attempt to reprogram it, but I couldn’t figure out where it is.”
“If you don’t know where the core is, you look it up in the user manual,” he replied curtly. “If you’re too arrogant to at least try to do your research, you deserve to get singed.”
“I was GOING to, but you literally kicked me off the bridge before I got the chance to, so I had to wing it.”
“That’s not what you told me when I asked.”
The droid’s eyes suddenly lit up again.
“Nuyak threjesi avati kia buti nepamsi,” it said. “Nu maburi tuojau kelioné.”
“Great,” Quinn muttered, clasping his forehead with his right thumb and index finger, “you broke it.”
“I did not!”
“Would you care to tell me what 2V is trying to say?”
She glared at him again, rising to her feet now.
“I didn’t know I was going to screw with his vocabulator! I shouldn’t have been anywhere close to it!”
“Well, it’s obvious you were, and the only way to figure out how to fix him is by internal diagnostics, which only the droid can do. We won’t be able to understand what it’s saying if we don’t even know what language it’s using right now.”
“What the hell is going on out here?!”
Both of them froze, hearing the Sith exit the training room, skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat.
“My apologies, my lord,” Quinn stammered immediately. “The slave was trying to—“
“Vette is no longer a slave, Quinn,” she replied, cutting through his sentence like she cleaved Jedi with her lightsaber, “and you will respect her as such. Am I clear?”
“Yes…my lord.”
“Meistras,” the droid responded, “Nu buti is adata iv kelioné sso sis tnoa amzi.”
She froze, staring at the droid in stunned amazement.
“What the hell?”
“As I was about to explain, my lord—“
She held a finger in the air.
“Silence, captain.” Slowly, she approached the damaged protocol droid, as if thinking. Carefully, she responded.
“Kait dartovi…zo valdzia doroti zenoti…tave zarchas Tsis lirza?”
2V’s eyes shifted in focus, recognizing the common language.
“Nuyak xuolis meistras,” he replied, “negu j'us, buti jri zilse ilvnija, mazo tym sarandias nun kia buti gabus kia kioska voy tave atsapims tym valia xauti.”
Both Quinn and Vette were staring at her in amazement.
“Wait, you know what the hell he’s saying?” asked Vette.
“Yes,” she replied. “It’s actually Sith.”
Quinn immediately registered.
“Of course.”
“He says his master was a researcher,” she continued, “probably an archaeologist, and he was programmed with the language after his initial creation.” She turned back to the droid. “Kait dary mes zuti lig temli j'us?”
“Ar j'us gal stebe tave arlstomgea Nu valia feikti, Nu gal niatezi nuyak naya kia nuyak gausus dividnaga.”
Nodding, she turned to Vette.
“Here’s the deal. He’s going to tell you what you need to do. I’ll translate for him so you understand. We’ll go step-by-step. Got it?”
“Got it.”
The process was painfully slow, having to translate between two languages constantly, and trying to keep the twi-lek from electrocuting herself or Gewalt. Eventually, the duo heard the sound of a motor spinning up, and 2V started spouting Basic again.
“Repairs complete. Resuming operations.”
“Excellent.” The Sith brushed some hair from her eyes. “Excellent work, Vette.”
“It’s what I do,” she replied, winking.
“Do not, under any circumstances, operate on 2V without my express consent again. Understand?”
“Sure thing.” Smirking, the Twi-lek made her way to the refresher to clean up. Rising, Giselle made her way to the bridge, where she found Quinn, as expected.
“My lord. I assume the droid has been repaired?”
“Indeed. 2V is back to driving us insane once more.” She studied him. “I noticed you weren’t terribly surprised I could speak Sith.”
“I made it a point to read up on your history, my lord,” he replied, still working at the controls. “I like to know who I’m working with.”
“Really…” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Such passion you have there, Quinn…” The blush in his face made her grin victoriously.
“My lord… That’s not what I—“
“You still haven’t gotten used to my teasing, captain? Pity.”
With that, she left the bridge, deliberately shifting her hips so he would notice, leaving him bewildered and, hopefully, a bit intrigued.
Author's Notes:
Oh, Quinn, I adore you way more than I realistically should. Oh well. Despite being human, Giselle learned Sith from her family, as my earlier submission hopefully communicated. Also, this is before Giselle felt comfortable enough with her crew to use her actual name around them, hence why she goes by Gewalt in this fic. If it confuses you, the 'w' is pronounced like a 'v'. It's German, so it sounds like 'Gevalt' with a hard G sound.
Also, NEVER interrupt Giselle while she is training. She'll probably throw bricks at you.
I'll have my post to the actual prompt probably tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed!
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replies tagged for JK and trooper spoilers
@NervousheroA: What a perfect interpretation of the prompt. I liked seeing the whole event from one perspective, including Sierra coming in in the middle of things and having to figure out what was going on. Then there’s your agent’s disillusion; I liked the bit about looking up to Malgus as a hero.
I haven’t done Ziost with my JK yet, and I know there weren’t any spoilers here, but still. The game doesn’t give much resolution to the end of JK Act 2, Rishii kind of rips that open depending on how you play it, and now Ziost. If Vitiate is hanging out in your JK’s mind, even as a delusion, I feel really bad for her.
Actually, that's the best part. I'm actually not referring to the JK Act 2 at all. This is something different entirely.
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The Ultimate companion in my opinion would be Treek with a muzzle. So we have half of that already, just need something to shut her up.
This is probably going to sound condescending, but considering how much players want their companions to talk MORE, I find it amusing how we then go around telling Bioware to shut one of them up.
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For the Ships that Pass in the Night, I'd like you all to meet Sierra, my Operative. I also have Lord Tauschen, my Assassin, but she doesn't really do much this time around. You'll probably see her later. With 1,522 words, spoilers for SW, Agent, and Ilum questline, this is my entry, called Shadows that Kill:
I almost didn’t show up at all.
Dr. Lokin hadn’t cleared me to return to regular operations at the time, but as soon as Darth Malgus announced his god-forsaken revolution over the Holonet, I knew I had to intervene. Thankfully, the doctor agreed with me.
As soon as the ship entered orbital range, I tapped into the radio frequencies to figure out the state of things. After sifting through ****-tons of Grand Moff Regus’s religious-sounding rant against Malgus’s “act of tyranny,” I eventually discovered useful info, mainly the small strike force currently engaging Malgus himself as they spoke. Temple ran a scan, found where the group was holding their duel, and I immediately secured an access port from which I could enter. I silently thanked her for clearing that hanger closer to them a few minutes back. It made this whole thing easier.
Lokin wanted to come with me, of course, to monitor my life signs, but I needed him at the ship console, and the Codex, so he could deactivate the self-destruct before we vaporized. We needed to clear more time.
I arrived just as the fight ended, apparently. Malgus had the Wrath in a death grip, hands actually on her neck rather than just using the Force to do it. I noticed two others on the ground, not moving. My head’s-up display confirmed they were unconscious, severely injured, at least, but not dead. Malgus spotted me pretty quickly. Without blinking, he threw her against a nearby wall. A lump of bile formed in my throat as I watched her limp form crash into the metal floor, unmoving. I could feel my anger rising, but I did my best to fight it off. Sith feed on the wrath of others, and Malgus was a terrifying Sith.
“Finally,” he hissed, “the Empire’s faithful, stubborn servant.”
I sent a few commands to strengthen my rifle. Glancing at the Wrath behind me, it was obvious, to my eyes and my built-in medical scanners, that she was out cold. It was safe to talk.
“Sorry I’m late,” I said, giving myself and my crew time to form a decent plan. “I ran into some heavy traffic on my way here.”
“Yet another thing that can be obliterated with my new Empire.”
I shook my head.
“Don’t you see? This is the worst thing you could’ve done. By revolting, you’ve only split the Empire further! Ensured its demise. You’re accomplishing nothing!”
We were born and raised hearing about Malgus’s great victories in the last war. He was a hero of the Empire, seemingly above the Dark Council’s habitual self-destruction, removed from politics. All he represented was the Empire’s fighting spirit. I wanted to fight alongside him, back in the day. Before reality took the place of dreams.
“No, it is you who have failed to accomplish anything,” he replied. “Didn’t you hear? This station is set to detonate in just another 30 seconds. I may die, but the old Empire will wither away, just like it has been for decades or more.”
As if on cue, the flashing red lights suddenly turned off, the sirens cutting off. Confused, his bloodshot eyes darted around the throne room, trying to figure out who interrupted his grand speech. I smirked as the automated announcer crashed his party.
“Self-destruct has been disabled. Self-destruct has been disabled. You may return to your assigned stations.”
He glared at me, eyes almost on fire with raw hatred. I shrugged.
“You were saying?”
His eyes narrowed with singular purpose, his breathing all but silent, even with the rebreather. His lightsaber was pointed at me, as if daring me to charge at him in combat. He thought I was that stupid. I was almost offended.
“Before I slay you where you stand,” he started, “what gives you such resolve to resist such healing? Why do you hamper progress?”
“Fighting fire with fire only burns more trees,” I answered. “It doesn’t actually solve anything. Besides…” I hesitated, making sure my tech was jamming any intercepts to the communications network. “Mazo nuyak ss’horunas satyi, mazo sekleti Nu satyi tave Aeuso.”
His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in dark amusement.
“So…” he mused, “the great bloodline remains. Interesting.”
“Stand down, Malgus. It’s your last chance.”
He openly laughed.
“Try again, Agent. It will be the last words you will ever speak.” With that, he rushed forwards.
I crouched low, waiting for him to get closer. When he was, I pulled my knife from the inside of my boot, made a sweeping motion towards his feet. As expected, he switched to an overhead leap, sailing above the swing, giving me time. My barrel followed his arc, and I let off an electro round right in the center of his back, the one kink in his armor I had been able to scan while we were busy talking.
It wasn’t lethal, but I knew he was at least a little spent from his recent duel, so the shot was enough to bring him crashing to the ground, stunned for at least a minute. Pressing a foot down on his chest, I fired off a few more rounds of electro-stuns: three in the chest and two in his rebreather, effectively neutralizing him.
Our eyes were still locked in a timeless duel, battling with our souls. Wordlessly, he ripped off the now-useless mask, revealing his heavily scarred and deformed jaw, burns from a lifetime ago.
“Do it…” he growled, trying fruitlessly trying to get more air. “Kill me…and watch…your Empire…crumble…into dust…”
I glared at him with as much hatred as I could muster. Sighing, I switched clips.
“I respected you a great deal, Malgus. I’m sorry it came to this.” With that parting message, I shot one round into his skull, and the ragged breathing silenced.
After staring at his corpse for some time, I rushed over to the three Sith scattered across the room. Giselle seemed to have suffered the worst of the three of them. Two broken ribs, at least, along with several burn marks on her legs, possibly from Malgus. She’d be complaining about pain for days, probably. The black-robed, female Sith got a lot of blaster fire, apparently, mostly along her hands and lower arms, and Jaesa seemed to not really be injured at all. Standin up, I found the Imperial frequency.
“Grand Moff Regus, Malgus is down, I need medical assistance in the throne room ASAP. Repeat, Malgus is down, and medical assistance is urgently needed in the throne room!”
“Who is this? You’re on a secure channel.”
I don’t think the Black Codex knows the meaning of the word secure.
“Trust me! The self-destruct is down, and we need immediate medical attention up here right now!” I cut the channel.
I estimated it would take Regus at least 10 minutes to get a crew assembled and in the room, after fuming about his channel being breached and trying to trace where my voice came from. Glancing down at the Wrath’s unconscious form, I debated the next course of action. Against my better judgment, I bent down, pulling out a small, golden ring. I slipped it onto her left hand’s ring finger, gently so not to potentially arouse her.
“There you go, Giselle,” I muttered quietly. “I found your ring. Try not to lose it again, ok?” With that request, I activated my stealth field, and ran out of the throne room before the rescue squad found any traces of my presence.
She woke up to raw pain.
She did her best to sit up, could feel her broken ribs stinging as she tried to breathe. Quinn was on her in an instant.
“My lord, it’s a relief to see you awake. Your injuries were many but not too severe.”
She remembered entering Malgus’s throne room, engaging him in battle. He had suffocated Tauschen and Jaesa almost immediately.
“Is my apprentice alright?” she asked hurriedly. “What about Tauschen?”
“Both are up and about,” he replied. “You are the one who needed the most recovery time. Jaesa is making her report to Grand Moff Regus as we speak.”
She sighed tiredly.
“I appreciate it.” She went to put her face in her hand, and froze when she felt a band of metal touch her skin. Pulling her hand back, she found a golden ring on her left ring finger, complete with an Imperial insigna in the ruby and her initials on the back. She stared at it in speechless wonder.
“No one knows exactly where the ring came from,” Quinn tried to explain. “We found you unconscious, with the ring. No one saw anything.”
“But that’s impossible,” she replied. “Baras said he took the ring after the cave-in on Quesh, and he didn’t have it when I killed him on Korriban. The only person who would have it and KNOW it was mine was…” Her face paled, the realization hitting her like a truck.
“My lord?”
She took a ragged breath, trying to make sense of the obvious truth situating itself on her left hand.
“S-Sierra?” she breathed, not even daring to whisper her sister’s name. “You’re…alive??”
Author's Notes:
If you're wondering what exactly Sierra said to Malus, it's Ancient Sith, courtesy of Coruscant Translator. It means "As my ancestors served, so shall I serve the Empire." It's their family creed.
I hope you enjoyed it!
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Now I'm posting for the real prompt for this week: Over your Head, here is my submission, featuring my Jedi Guardian, Valerie. No spoilers this time. 645 words.
Darkness:
She couldn’t see anything.
She couldn’t feel anything under her feet, so she assumed she was floating somehow.
Is this… I’m dreaming, aren’t I?
Her light blue eyes darted back and forth, scanning the eternal darkness for something she could see. She was really confused.
“What’s going on?” she asked aloud. It was then she sensed a presence. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
The presence began to chuckle, and the Jedi’s veins froze instinctively.
“Patience, my little insect. I will be there shortly.”
“Vitiate…” she growled.
“Now, now,” the darkness replied, “there’s no need to get angry. After all, I was the one who kept you alive. You should be more grateful than that.”
She felt the all-too-familiar humming start in the back of her head. She flinched instinctively, trying to shut out the soft sound before it grew any louder.
“Get out of my head, Vitiate,” she replied, putting as much pressure into her voice as possible. In response, the humming grew slightly louder.
“On the contrary, you should stay out of MY business, little insect. Actually, that reminds me. I can’t remember what kind of insect I decided to call you. Do you remember?”
The humming spiked in volume, sending wracking pains across her skull. She gripped her face, trying to quell some of the pain, images dancing through her mind. Alderaan. The blowing grass. Zooming in. She could see the many insects there. Sharp pain. Flames everywhere. She could see the young Sith approach her, twin blades drawn in a dark red light. More pain, this time downwards. She felt the heat of the Sith’s lightsaber blaze through her torso. Slowly, like she was being tortured. Falling. Couldn’t feel the grass anymore, faintly hearing the screams of people behind her. Were they friends? She couldn’t remember. Yes, she did. Could see Kira standing overtop her, ready to strike down the Wrath. Her vision blurred, a floating sensation. Suddenly, a jerk. Then nothing.
The pain stopped, the sound reduced to a low hum just like before. She was on her knees now. She didn’t remember falling from the pain. Her breath was heavy, labored. She looked up, back into the darkness, as if trying to stare him down.
“We will…defeat you…Vitiate…” she called, trying to gather as much air as possible.
“If you actually held the power to strike me down, I wouldn’t have intervened in your death,” he replied calmly. “Life is far more enjoyable when I get to watch you squirm, like the insect you are. Now, I have far more important matters to attend to than playing with you. Goodbye.”
The pain reignited in her skull, sending waves of liquid fire through her entire body. She couldn’t feel anything but pain, couldn’t see anything but red. She screamed, feeling her entire existence burning away.
Her eyes snapped open, blinking furiously. She sat up in the bed, breathing ragged and uneven. She could almost feel the heat still, but could only feel the cool breeze from the ship’s cooling system. Her eyes darted around the room, hoping no one had come in to see what was wrong. No lights turned on, so she hadn’t screamed in real life, thankfully.
Falling back into her covers, she gripped the top of her nightshirt, curling into a ball under the covers of her bed. She fought with her defensive wall, continuing a battle she had started fighting a month ago. Submitting, she allowed a few silent tears to streak across her face, running down her features and creating small dots on the bed. She tried fruitlessly to fall back to sleep, to find a place in her mind not currently ravaged by her past.
She had tried so hard to move past it, to set it aside. But still, it had come back once again. He would never let her forget.
She had remembered dying.
Author's Notes:
You'll see more of Valerie in the future. She and Giselle are perhaps the two most crucial characters in my entire legacy. I love them. They are my babies, which pains me because I put them through so much crap as a result. Oh well.
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@ nervousheroA: So sorry for the delay. I like that you used Pierce in your story, and I think the way you used his character was a good one. Pierce isn’t subtle. The doubts he articulated are very in-character. I also liked that Giselle knows he has to come to his own conclusions. I liked her reasoning at the end. Hope to see more of you and your stories!
Also congrats on even attempting to read the thread in its entirety. This thing is colossal and more than a bit intimidating. There should be medals or something. If you haven’t found it yet the story index is very helpful once you’ve found authors and legacies you like.
Thank you! I might try posting another one today or tomorrow, just to get myself in the thick of things before I get the chance to chicken out.
And yes, that index has been extremely helpful so far.
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Putting the SW on the Dark Council would be the worst thing ever, because it would completely overshadow the Inquisitor's role. The honor guard is an interesting idea, but I guess we'll just have to find out whenever we actually destroy him.
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My opinion was always that Quinn, at first, genuinely wanted to be on the SW's ship, and took the chance as soon as he got it. Baras, knowing Quinn would immediately choose him/her, released his debt and gave him a post of his choosing, knowing that Quinn would choose to follow the SW regardless.
In other words, I doubt Quinn knew from the start, but you can bet Baras sure did.
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He was great. You're right, combat does suit him well. I run with Quinn too, he's my favorite and the hubby as well. Gosh, I read back my post to you and urgh...typos. Sorry about that, I was in a bit of a rush, but wanted to get it done, so I didn't forget.
Typing one word must yield three typos. This is a proportional law that applies to all typed documents. Garunteed.
:D:D
). For the prompt Milestones, I've got my SW Giselle once again, how fitting. I'm actually really proud of this one. I'm kind of amazed, to be honest.
)
SCORPIO bug for Agents is still very much present
in Bug Reports
Posted
Already logged my ticket for this, but I wanted this to get more attention because this has seemingly been an issue for years with no recorded solution. Just took my Agent through Chapter 9 of KotFE, and I noticed SCORPIO wasn't summonable like she had been for every other character I put through the expansion. The Contacts list marks her as "unavailable" despite her clearly being part of the story by this point. I attempted to use the companion terminal as a solution to the issue, but SCORPIO is not an option on the terminal, only allowing my to select Temple, Vector, and Kaliyo (Lokin is an active Alliance alert so his absence isn't a problem). I already put in a ticket, # 38096637.
As for collaborating details, Chapter 7 (the point where you recruit her) has been also been bugged for a while. Upon finishing the last cutscene in the elevator, the chapter doesn't properly roll over into Chapter 8, instead loading you back into SCORPIO's room and forcing you to attempt starting Chapter 8 manually TWICE before it lets you. I suspect this is the source of my issues, but it hasn't been a problem on anyone except the one toon who actually wants to sue her for a while. I'm making this post to hopefully draw more attention (meaning, actual people instead of automated responses) to the issue.
Character Name: Sierra Visteus