Trouble, Destiny, and Other Complications - AU: Caught

[MishaCantu]

So glad you could post. I have only taken one character through the new chapters, as silly as it sounds, I am a bit bummed I didn't get my old companions back, namely Vector and Quinn. But I digress, I am still quite happy to see Thorns and Ciner again.

 

They have almost developed a strange comradery which I find very appealing and leads to some great lines in their back and forth discourse. I especially liked Thorns thought about rearranging the word sith, it is so like him.

 

I must say that the ending line does portend some unexpected trouble that even Ciner may have some issues with. Very much looking forward to the next chapter.

[wangxiuming]

I really do enjoy this budding relationship between the two. Thorns' thoughts and the pair's exchanges continue to provide a lot of texture to the unlikely camaraderie with Ciner. I like that even though they're working together, there's still a bit of hesitation on Thorns' part.

 

Looking forward to see what's next.

[frauzet]

Happy New Year to all of you!

 

I had hoped for some time to write between holidays, but RL kept me busy. Here's what little I did manage.

Thank you again, for bearing with me.

 

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#30

The echoes of our footsteps follow us. An army of ghosts closing in — if you believe in ghosts, which I don’t. Except for the shock collar being in the way, the hair at the nape of my neck would stand on end anyway. But you don’t work for a band of artifact rescuers without learning a few tricks. What’s usually haunting these sites is the wit of their constructors. People much cleverer than me. They not only knew about statics, but also about acoustics. And they knew about traps. While it’s always nice to have someone handy to disarm any traps you encounter, most of them can be avoided if you know what to look for.

 

Someone removed the markings from the pressure plates, yet their edges don’t fit as neatly as the rest, the joints are more uneven, and the sand and dust in between less consistent. Ce’na continues to save my life. I can almost feel her playful slap as she scolds me to pay attention to her lesson. The butt of her blaster presses into my palm. What I had to teach her in return wasn’t as helpful. It wasn’t enough.

 

“Nervous?” The Sith eyes me sideways.

 

“Someone cleaned up.”

 

“The remains of failed acolytes would reach the ceiling by now if they did not do so regularly,” Ciner explains.

 

“Guess that’s good for us,” I muse.

 

The Sith wrinkles his nose. “They would most certainly smell less pleasant than my present company,” he mutters under his breath.

 

Ain’t anybody can force me to take the bait! This one’s getting old anyway. “Yeah. And in order to get themselves killed, they must’ve triggered some traps. Can’t be many left still functioning.”

 

“Our trials are not a joke!” With brows knitted he looks slightly offended. “The traps are re-armed just as regularly. The position of Trapmaster of the Academy is highly remunerated.”

 

“Renumerated?”

 

“Remunerated. Compensated, rewarded, or, simply put, payed.”

 

“I got you at rewarded. Seems fitting if you don’t exaggerate his body-count. Is there some kind of bounty on acolytes’ heads?”

 

“Would you be tempted to try and collect one?”

 

I stop my search for traps to turn and look at him. “I’m a bodyguard, not a bounty hunter. I passed on that offer. Whatever you may think of me, I am not a killer.” Not anymore.

 

He simply nods in acknowledgment. I am not sure he believes me, but in our current situation it’s not worth discussing. If everything goes as agreed, I’ll be heading to an agricultural planet in a few days. We’ll not see each other again. If we don’t survive the tomb it’s even more pointless.

[MishaCantu]

 

You're back, and I enjoyed every word. The part about the "haunting" effects of the old tombs being the devices of the builders was brilliant.

 

The banter between Thorns and Ciner, is engaging, if not amusing, especially the bits about Thorn's odor and Ciner's explanation of 'remuneration'. I lol'd at Thorn's comeback, "I got you at rewarded'.

 

Thorns gets it, that it no longer matters what path in life he took, they will either make it out or not, his life path has no bearing. I also appreciated Thorns slight pang of guilt when he thought back to Ce'na, it proves the depth of his character.

 

 

So few words with so much meaning, as always, a pleasure to read.

 

Happy New Year to you also. I hope it will be a good one for you.

[Lunafox]

I'm always happy to see you post, because it means more of Thorns and Ciner. ^^

 

As Misha said, their banter is great and I enjoyed every word. I'm wondering now what kind of reaction Thorns would have at actually getting a bath. Hopefully if they survive down there, we'll get to find out.

 

Happy New Year Frauzet! Hopefully it'll be a great year for all our writing adventures. ^^

[frauzet]

@MishaCantu and Lunafox: Thanks again for your wonderful support. I am glad you both enjoy Thorns and Ciner.

And hello to my other readers as well! Seeing the view counter increase also warms my heart. Thank you for reading and bearing with me!

 

As for Thorns getting a bath, that would depend. He wouldn't say no to a shower. You'd have trouble to get him out of it, if it actually were one with running water instead of a sonic one. That's a luxury he usually can only dream of. A bathtub would probably be okay, a pool or a lake not so much. Thorns can't swim. When I imagine Ciner dropping him into a lake and having to rescue a panicked Thorns afterwards, I am glad Korriban is an arid planet. Thorns might have forgotten to point out one or other trap otherwise. No, not good.

 

Here is the next short part:

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#31

We reach the first statue of the locking mechanism without major casualties. Only a hole in my shirt, and the smell of singed hair mark our progress so far. Dodging that fire-bolt out of nowhere two corners earlier has almost been fun. A bit of risk makes a lot of things sweeter. When mistakes can cost your life, you’re bound to pay more attention. You become more aware of your surroundings as well as yourself. You feel more alive. Well, in my case it could also be the effect of Marun’s injection. Can’t be sure, don’t care.

 

The switch at the statue’s back — a small depressible detail on its belt — is easy to find. Despite my worries there is no hidden device waiting to bite off my finger. The rumble following its activation is so deep it’s hard to tell if there is actually a slight vibration in the floor, or if it’s only the sound. It’s working. I celebrate with a fist pump. I unlocked the first lock. The corners of my mouth try to meet my ears. Got to look like a fool, and I remember I am not alone. I look at the Sith. I don’t know what I expect. A slap on the back? Good dog? No, nothing to ruin the moment. His grin mirrors mine. “Only three to go,” he says.

 

“Only three to go,” I agree and laugh. I am having a good time. The boulder of guilt comes crashing right after this realization. Am I betraying my friends? I don’t want to think about it. Not now. So I shove the thought back deep under that boulder. Still, the glee has vanished.

 

From his sobering face I gather Ciner has already picked up on the change of my mood. He is an enemy, yet he does so faster than any friend I ever had. Frightening! He nods towards the archway to the next corridor we need to take. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

I pick up the backpack and follow.

[MishaCantu]

Thorns brief moment of glee was a wonderful touch and a welcome emotional respite from his current dilemma. His twinge of guilt was pretty endearing, and the fact that he noticed the connection with Ciner, an enemy, picking up on his mood was a great tidbit.

 

I am so glad you continue to let us follow these two along in their adventure and am always looking forward to more.

[Lunafox]

I always love Thorn's way of speaking about things and his thought process. The line where he thought he might get a pat on the head or a good dog, made me smile.

 

But I've also noticed he doesn't allow himself much time to enjoy things either. It's like the moment he catches himself having fun, bam, guilt and he's serious again. I also liked his observation about Ciner, how quick he picks up on things.

 

Well done! ^^

[frauzet]

Yay, Thorns, Ciner, and I are still alive. I am still not in the position to promise a more stable writing schedule, though.

Anyway, thanks to all my readers for bearing with me, and to Luna and Misha for their continued encouragement.

And special thanks to Misha for reminding me there are people actually waiting for the next part.

 

Today I was able to make a bit of progress, not as much as I wanted to, but better than nothing. Thorns and Ciner keep getting closer to the end of Ciner's trial.

 

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#32

A shriek, escaped from the latest horror movie, makes me jump. While its echoes ebb and multiply I train my blasters at the corridor in front of us. I have a bad feeling since unlocking the third lock. This has been way too easy. Another bone-piercing cry follows the first. It sounds worse than toothache.

 

“Shyrack!” Ciner states. “They brought a new flock in last week.”

 

“Sounds fun.”

 

“They are not that bad. They are bat-like, only a bit larger, especially their teeth. Single ones do not pose much of a threat. A whole flock can be considered a nuisance at the least, though.”

 

I’ll take the Sith’ word for it. By now several of the first crier’s friends have joined into a chorus. They are already grating on my nerves. Brought in last week, Ciner said. “Sound hungry.”

 

“By now they will see this tomb as their lair. And they will defend it fiercely. Us being food will only be their second thought.”

 

“Reassuring!”

 

Ciner follows the map he’s memorized. I don’t bother with the safety catch before I shove my weapons back into their holsters and follow him. I am fast but I won’t gamble on a split second. I am good enough not to shoot my own feet — or the Sith’ back however tempting. The lack of traps only serves to make me more nervous. Somebody wants to lull us into a false sense of security. Definitely doesn’t work! In times like these I trust my gut. Something is up. As we round the next corner I see them flutter in the shadows just below the ceiling. The beasts’ shrieks rise in volume before I even know I’ve drawn both blasters again. One of the shyracks bursts toward us. It is kriffing fast. The sound of my blasters drowns in the erupting din for it’s echo to return as a low rumble from all sides.

 

I shot four bolts and at least one of them must have found its mark. The shyrack stops its advance in midair. It flutters and screams with wings spread wide in what looks like a threatening gesture. The rest of the flock stay behind — maybe even retreated a few steps. I take time to aim. My next shot plucks the leading animal out of the air. It drops to the ground where it beats its wings some more before it surrenders to death with a last rearing up.

 

Ciner pulls me back. “Careful!”

 

Now I see it too. A faint beam of light shimmering through the stirred dust 15 centimeters above the ground. Tripping hazard! Almost stumbled into it. I should shoot the shyrack again for distracting me! With one last twitch the tip of its wing disrupts the beam. There is a flicker in the air. Cleanly severed the tip falls to the ground. “Energy field?” I ask.

 

The Sith nods absentmindedly. He studies the passage in front of us. At the end of it the last of the flock is retreating around the corner. Buggers had enough. I holster my weapons. “Well, at least it’s easy enough to avoid!” I shrug.

 

But Ciner doesn’t loosen his grip on my arm. “Wait!”

 

Puzzled I take a look around. I can’t see or hear anything suspicious. “I don’t think they’ll come back.”

 

“We will take another route!” he declares.

 

“Why? You said this one is the shortest.”

 

He shakes his head. “You are not going to make it to an agricultural planet if you do not stop asking question instead of doing what you are told.”

 

“I am here because we made a deal. I help you, you help me. You’re going to cancel that now?” He’d probably be able to operate the last lock without me. I don’t like the thought.

 

“I am giving you advice. The guards you will have to deal with after me will not be as forgiving of your behavior as I am. I am the least of your problems.” He points at the dead shyrack. “This beast knew something you don’t.”

 

Is this another way of telling me how dumb I am? “And what would that be?” It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes.

 

“It stopped in front of the trap.”

 

“So did we.”

 

He smirks. “I doubt it was bothered by a mechanism only slightly above the ground.”

 

Kark, he is right. Flying the shyrack wouldn’t have triggered the tripping hazard. I squint at the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Whatever contraption guards the passage, it’s not made for human eyes to see. I sigh in defeat as I turn back towards Ciner. “Detour it is!”

[MishaCantu]

Ha, glad I nudged you into posting. Thorns never loses his quick wit and I never lose my fascination for reading about his and Ciner's journey. I especially loved the following lines:

 

I don’t bother with the safety catch before I shove my weapons back into their holsters and follow him. I am fast but I won’t gamble on a split second. I am good enough not to shoot my own feet — or the Sith’ back however tempting.

 

Tripping hazard! Almost stumbled into it. I should shoot the shyrack again for distracting me!

 

They are so typical of the workings of Thorn's extraordinary mind. And I do appreciate Ciner's pragmatic outlook, he reminds me of the few Sith I have any regard for, a thinking man, not ruled alone by passion.

 

I really enjoyed this little outing in their world and look forward to the next. I will gently nudge again, you know, when too much time has passed.

[Lunafox]

I'm glad that Misha got you to post too. Thank you for this! As always, Ciner and Thorns are brilliant and I look forward to seeing how things turn out for them.

[frauzet]

Yay, I am still here. Managed to lift the writer's block a bit this evening. It is not much, and it is a scene I had planned to skip, but Thorns and Ciner started talking, so I took notes.

I do hope the result is worth reading.

Again, thank you for bearing with me.

 

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#33

 

Ciner stares at the floor, at me, back down. He scratches his neck. “What do you make of this?”

 

“Floor tiles.” The material looks the same as the rest of the floor. They are square, maybe 40 centimeters wide.

 

“Anything helpful?”

 

“Floor tiles with symbols on them?” That is the difference.

 

His brows draw together. “Beyond the obvious?”

 

I shrug. “How am I supposed to know? You are the one with the brain, and an education.” Given we’re in a Sith tomb, chance is they are some ancient Sith symbols. Modern catalogs of weapons are usually printed in Aurebesh. I never saw the need to learn anything else.

 

The Sith takes a deep breath. “Which way did you take last time? This one or the other? It must have been one of the two. How did you get past the traps?”

 

“You didn’t want to take the other corridor, now don’t blame me.” Not that I had any idea how to pass the trap there, not even being able to see it and all. “I told you, I followed my friend. I did as she told me, stepped where she showed me to.”

 

“Of course!” His face lights up. “We are only allowed to step on certain tiles.”

 

“That much is part of the obvious.” It’s always nice when people don’t stick to their own rules.

 

“Maybe to a thief,” he snarks.

 

Now it’s time for me to stare at him. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen ‘Raiders of the Rakatan Tomb’?” I shake my head in disbelief. “It's one of the best holovids ever made. I take back what I said. That’s a major gap in education.” Are there restrictions on holovids in the Empire? An index of forbidden ones? Probably contains all those that are fun to watch instead of the horror vids.

 

“We can reenact the latest Sith opera I watched. I have a vivid memory of the scene where the hero slays the villain.”

 

“Opera?” I chuckle. “When I start to sing, you’ll have a reason to slay me, that much is for sure.”

 

Ciner grins. “At least you acknowledge you are the villain. Your cause may not be lost yet.” He nods towards the floor. “So what is the connection between your holovid and this tiles?”

 

“Well, I could be wrong, but I doubt the idea is new. Plagiarizing is probably older than this tomb. In the holovid there was a tiled area and you needed to step on the tiles that formed a codeword to get across. Their symbols were conveniently Aurebesh letters and they got obvious hints for the plain codeword two scenes earlier.” I start to scan the walls behind us. “So I hope you attended your ancient symbol classes, and we’ll find some hints here somewhere.”

 

“You can stop your search,” the Sith calls after a few moments. Mustering the tiles he tilts his head from one side to the other. “I know these symbols. Pay attention and I will teach you the Sith code.”

[MishaCantu]

 

*Claps hands* Thorns and Ciner live! I loved their little repartee and Thorns responses to the obvious, he does amuse me.

 

I almost spit out my coffee at the part about "Raiders of the Rakatan Tomb", that was brilliant. And then the remarks about blocked vids and plagiarism were pure gold.

 

It was nice to see an almost friendly moment between the two, my goodness Ciner actually smiled.

 

 

I am glad you didn't skip this dialogue, it was well worth the read. Thank you and more please.

[Lunafox]

That's awesome, loved it I've always been fascinated with the idea of holovids and what sorts each side watches.

 

Raiders of the Rakatan tomb sounds exciting

[frauzet]

@Misha + Luna: Thank you for your lovely comments! You helped me through another phase of being depressed about my writing.

 

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#34

 

The shyrack’s neck snaps with a loud crack. Hollow bones, good for flying. Not so much for withstanding blunt force. I wish I had a club. It’d be easier to hit them than with a blaster. Ciner swings his training blade. Not quite the shower I wished for, but the spray of blood proves my point. These buggers have been waiting for us. Wings, teeth, and claws everywhere. Smell of iron, and scorched flesh. The scratches on my arms smart. Trying to keep them off my face with my left arm while shooting with my right. I duck and stumble from the attack of another incoming leather-winged missile. I curse as something pierces into my foot. Probably stepped on one of those damned yaws. No time to check. Besides that club, sturdy boots wouldn’t be bad either. Blood from my forehead is leaking into my left eye. Kind of impossible to see where I’m setting my feet. How many of these demons are already down? It’s also impossible to take proper aim. Two more shots on a wing and a prayer. I won’t complain if the first one finds its mark.

 

“Peace is a lie!” I mutter. The first line of the Sith code I learned two corridors earlier. It sounds like an omen. Or maybe a recap of my life.

 

“There is only passion!” Ciner yells with a spin and a kick for one of the shyracks. The Sith laughs. He seems to be in his element.

 

Among all the blood there is the slight smell of oil in a pan left on an oven on its highest setting. Time to change hands. Fend off attackers with my right, shoot with my left. Hope the second blaster won’t be overheated before the first one cooled off. The heat vents are at their limit. We’re lucky the beasts don’t know. There is a shriek that leaves a ringing in my ears. I fire some more shots but am too disoriented to hit anything before the surviving shyracks vanish behind a pillar. Probably another air vent.

 

“They are gone.” Ciner says. His voice is muffled by the whistle in my ears. He puts away his weapon and grabs my chin.

 

I shove his hand away.

 

“Let me have a look at the cut on your forehead!” he insists.

 

I dab at it with the remains of my sleeve and draw a sharp breath. Kark! I shake my head. Colorful spots bloom all over what’s left of my field of vision. Drops of gasoline glistening in leftover puddles from last night’s rain. Up and down are squabbling over what belongs where. I concentrate to hold on to the blasters.

 

Ciner’s grip on my shoulder prevents me from falling. “Sit down. This is not the time to act the fool.”

 

I shuffle a few steps till I can get my back against a wall and slide down to a sitting position. The blasters can’t seem to fit the holsters, so I put them on the floor instead. That frees up my hands to put a finger in each ear and give them a soft shake till the ringing stops. Better! With the Sith’ help I manage to get the backpack from my back. Eyes closed I lean my head against the wall. I take several deep breaths through my nose while Ciner rummages through the supplies. My stomach growls in response to the smell drifting from the backpack. I recall the wraps.

 

With a chuckle Ciner places the parcel in my hands. “Without decent food, I’d feel dizzy, too, after a fight. Just let me put a kolto plaster on that scratch first. This stuff will taste better without you bleeding all over it.” Not long and he has retrieved everything he needs from the medkit. With a compress he wipes away the blood. Almost gently he presses it to the wound. “Keep it in place. I’ll ready the plaster.” Squinting and gnawing his lower lip he aims to apply the patch properly. After he’s done he tilts his head to inspect his work. “Professional!” he claims. I am not sure whether he means me or his first aid skills.

 

I unpack the food and hand one of the wraps to him. He takes it and sits down beside me. I take a peek at the inside of mine. Most of the ingredients look strange, yet the taste is wonderful. I concentrate on chewing thoroughly, trying to figure out the single vegetables’ flavor. “So, who taught you this?” I ask him between bites.

 

His boot tip nudges one of the carcasses littering the floor in front of us. “Killing shyracks?”

 

I point at my head. “Patching up people.”

 

He grins between chewing and swallowing. “As a child I practiced on my stuffed nexu, and the akk puppies, mimicking what I had observed Marun doing. Anything more sophisticated than a plaster or as unappreciative a patient as the puppies, and I am at a loss.”

 

Puppies, not one, several. To younger me that would have sounded like heaven. Enough food to spare to own pets bigger than a rat. None that’d land in the next pot of soup.

 

“No, I am the descendant of a long line of Sith. I trained all my life for my trials here,” he continues more earnest. “Minor injuries are the order of the day, first aid measures part of the training. Especially for those of us who lack even the slightest affinity for Force healing. You have to be able to treat your own wounds. Anyone else might take the opportunity to finish you off.”

 

Yeah, it's always good to have friends you can rely on. Sound like pleasant guys, his fellow acolytes. I divide the last wrap in half and watch him as he eats his part.

 

For a moment his gaze focuses on a place lost in time and space. “I wonder what happened to the stuffed nexu.” Without his mask of arrogance and self-assured manners he doesn’t look any older than me. He peers at me out of the corner of his eye. “What is your verdict?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Tell me what you see.”

 

I lick my lips. “Not sure you’ll want to know.”

 

“This is your free ticket, no repercussions.”

 

I finish eating. Ciner retrieves the water bottle from the backpack, drinks, waits expectantly, while I consider licking off the sauce off my fingers, then decide against it. “You really want to know?” I wipe my hands on the legs of my trousers. No participant leaves that encounter any cleaner than before. Free ticket, he says. I don’t want to risk pissing him off as he is my only ticket out of here.

 

Again he proves his empathy. “I will not force you to tell me. Either way, I will keep my word.” Implying he could force me. He hands me the bottle.

 

The water is cool, almost chill. I no longer know what we’re searching for in this tomb. Closing one eye, I regard him over the top of the bottle. “I see someone who, despite having more options than I could possibly wish for, follows a path set for him by others. I see someone, who is as trapped as me.”

 

A bitter laugh escapes him, after the initial shock. “The Force shall free me.”

 

I see someone who is suddenly as lost as I am.

[Lunafox]

I loved the sensory details you included in this, made me feel like I was right there with the boys. Like the bit below.

 

Among all the blood there is the slight smell of oil in a pan left on an oven on its highest setting. Time to change hands. [/Quote]

 

I loved how you described the overheated blaster. That was really great, so few do that and it's important.

 

I like the exchanges between the boys and thought the idea of Ciner tending to puppies and his stuffed Nexu were adorable.

Not sure what he'll make of Thorns' observation though, because Thorns is right, they're not all that different in terms of situation.

 

Thanks for a great chapter, glad you're writing again, keep it up!

[MishaCantu]

Ah, the small observations of Thorns. He has such an astute mind. Like Luna I appreciated the description of the overheating blasters. It is the little details that bring the story to life.

 

The fact that Ciner had the luxury of a stuffed Nexu and Akk puppies is such a striking contrast to Thorn's childhood where he could never form such attachments. The soup pot comment is such an insight.

 

I wonder if Ciner's response to Thorn's evaluation is resignation or hope. Everyone is slave to something.

 

Great read, as always.

[frauzet]

Even for me this has been a long absence...

...but I am still here.

Let's just say I have been struggling with my mood combined with a serious case of writer's block.

I'll try to get back into the habit of writing small pieces more regularly.

Baby steps!

Thanks for bearing with me! <3

 

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#35

 

The Sith keeps his word — almost. There are no repercussions except for an uncomfortable silence. He didn’t wait for me to pick up the backpack. I had to hurry to catch up to him before the corridor’s next corner. The tomb’s final gate, and the last lock, aren’t far now. What surprises await us on the final meters? I divide my attention between watching out for more traps, and warily checking Ciner’s expression. His jaw is set in determination of the kind that gives you cramps in the mandibular joint after a while. Not healthy for your teeth either. Now and then he takes a deep breath and the flickering red spots in his eyes disappear for a few seconds. I decide to keep my mouth shut either.

 

Against all odds we don’t encounter any more traps in the corridors. Maybe they usually don’t send students this far in, so the trap master doesn’t bother. Or it’s because this is the lair of the shyracks. Tracks and droppings mark the floor. The hall with the gate is lit by the same eerie light as the rest of the tomb. It seems to come from several directions, casting our shadows on every wall, ominous creatures crawling between the ancient statues standing guard. Giant servants hewn from granite carry the ceiling’s massive slabs on their shoulders, bowing deeper as the lighting plays tricks on their features. They are all that stands between us and the ceiling. To disturb them means to be buried beneath tons of stone. I tiptoe to the stairs at the base of the opposite wall. In front of the first step I resume breathing.

[Lunafox]

Nice work! So glad you were able to overcome the writer's block to bring us more Thorns and Ciner. I love how you describe and word things, very evocative, it felt like I was back inside the tombs again. The details about the shyracks in particular were very realistic. Looking forward to more.

[MishaCantu]

Glad to see you back and writing. I have missed Ciner and Thorns.

 

I don't check the forums much any more, but am always happy to see something new from a name I recognize.

 

Loved the description of the tomb and Ciner's clenched jaw, and still love Thorns.

 

Hope to see more soon.

[frauzet]

Thank you Luna and Misha for welcoming me back.

I keep working on my descriptions. It's getting easier as my English improves

 

Most of my plans for writing have been thwarted again. I probably shouldn't make any at all. Nonetheless I managed to get a post-able piece written and edited.

The next part is already in the works. I am almost done with the first draft. I reckon there will be at least 5 more parts. For the first time I am able to see where I am going with a multi-part story.

After 'Caught' I intend to get rid of the cliffhanger where I left TDaOC. That wasn't nice of me, and it's been bothering me for a long time now.

But first things first. Here is part 36. Hope you'll enjoy.

 

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#36

 

I hunker down and run my hand over the surface in front of me. The texture of the stone tickles my fingertips. After a slight increase of the applied pressure, the cold seeping out of the material spreads through my fingers. There is no crack between the single steps to fit a fingernail into. The whole stair is hewn from a single block. Just these few moments suffice for my fingers to start growing numb. Like on our way down the ventilation shaft, there is the feeling of warmth being sucked out of my body. Only this time it’s stronger. I can’t help the gasp that escapes me when I pull my hands away. The perceived drag can be chalked up to my imagination!

 

“What is wrong?” Ciner is immediately on alert.

 

“Nothing!” I declare shaking my head. I take the steps to the gate and nothing happens. The numbness vanishes as I flex my fingers. “Feels like it tried to feed on me!” I mutter under my breath.

 

“It?” the Sith asks. “You mean the tomb?” His brows draw together. “Interesting thought!” His gaze shifts from me to the gate in front of us and back again.

 

Kark! My remark hasn’t been meant for his ears. I need to guard my tongue better than this. A credit for his thoughts. I don’t like his current expression. No, not at all! There is no need to take any risks here and let him come to wrong conclusions. I have no idea what exactly the security footage shows. “I am pretty sure there were no sacrifices involved when my friend opened the gate,” I explain. On the other hand I don’t have a clue on how to open it.

 

The Sith shifts his stance to face me. “And to how many percent — by your estimate — does ‘pretty sure’ translate to?” He is showing way too much of his teeth for my liking.

 

“137, more than enough,” I snap and he chuckles.

 

“Do not worry! As long as you honor our deal, I will do the same. It is reassuring to have another option if you fail, though.”

 

I can’t tell whether or not he’s joking. “Yeah, very reassuring!” Yet! I don’t have any clue yet, I remind myself. There are no obvious buttons on the two smaller statues guarding the gate.

 

“What can I say? I was foretold I would meet my key to this tomb. Now here you are, but destiny forgot to also deliver the usage instructions.”

 

At least he doesn’t need ab-usage instructions. Reassuring, my @ss. “It’s not like I am a droid,” I grumble while I feel for any markings on the door itself.

 

Ciner nods. “I noticed. Droids usually do as they are told. And otherwise you reset them to factory adjustments. Getting rid of your bad habits would be a more tedious effort.”

 

The pot calling the kettle black! There is no point in risking my life and possible freedom just to make him scowl. Well, I try. “Lucky for you, that won’t be your problem, and lucky for me,” I say as I take off the backpack, “it won’t be mine either.” After short rummaging I raise the data pad in the air. “Someone realized it might be a good idea to keep the contents despite not being able to understand what they were. If this had been reset, we would be in trouble.” Or, in my case, in even more trouble.

 

Ciner’s mouth twitches in amusement. He got my point. Still. “There were no instructions on opening the gate,” Ciner points out. He has learned the map by heart. However he managed that in less than 15 minutes.

 

Giving the pad a rest on the top stair I stretch my back and crack my fingers. This might take a while. “Say, you had the brilliant idea to hide a bunch of valuable information behind a game for which you hold the high-score on various densely populated planets in several sectors.” I tilt my head to regard him. His pursed lips tell me he has trouble with the image. Not a gamer then. “If you are able to reach level 99 without breaking a sweat, do you seriously hide everything you got behind the third level?” His eyes widen. “I am pretty sure there is more to be found,” I affirm.

 

“Pretty sure? 137 percent?” Then more serious, “it does sound reasonable, though.” He observes me sitting down and booting the pad.

 

With a tap on the icon I start the game. “She was a genius, that much is certain!” A cough to hide the catch in my voice.

 

“Just out of curiosity. How many percent does ‘certain’ translate to?”

 

In the back of my mind Ce’na sticks her tongue out. I want to do the same. I am capable of rule of three, and percentage calculation and I am kriffing proud of it. I swallow my pride and concentrate on the game. Why would I even care about the Sith’ opinion of me? I’ll be rid of him as soon as we get back out of this tomb.

 

The first levels don’t require much skill, only about a minute each of the rest of my life. What’s not eaten up by the game, the steps are sucking out of my @ss, which sounds weird when I say it like that. Marun’s injection did some good, but it hasn’t conjured any more flesh onto my bones. During level 5 I feel the cold creeping towards some more tender parts I am quite fond of. Since I can’t rule out I’ll get the chance to use them again, I take the break after level 5 to repurpose the backpack to a seat pad. My scowl is supposed to discourage anyone from making jokes about karking hemorrhoids. The days when I thought, people at age twenty were old, have gone past long since. By the time I reach level 12 Ciner already paced up and down the hall several times. Level 25 and he stops in front of me.

 

“How long will this take?”

 

I shoot him a quick glance. “Longer if you distract me at the wrong moment.” I don’t bother to wait for his reaction. Level 25 doesn’t make me break a sweat, but I have to keep an eye on the preview. Why does this kriffing game don’t have any save points? Ce’na loved it. I played a few times to humor her. I beat her at target practice. She annihilated me in this game’s battle mode. If she hid the info behind one of the last levels I might as well kill myself now. Only, she wouldn’t do something so impractical, would she? Her image in my mind shakes her head so hard her lekku fly. No, she would never overdo anything this much, not even if she found it hilarious. About half an hour till level 35. Where does impractical turn to useless?

 

“We don’t have all day!” Ciner’s feet roam outside of my field of vision, yet the acoustics in this chamber carry his muttered remark, words and meaning clear as crystal.

 

I look up to retort. “It’s so much cozier here than in my cell. You can’t blame me for dragging this out.” He makes a face which tells me he speaks sarcasmic, too. Only, getting ruffled doesn’t help with winning the game. With a blaring sound I lose one of my three lives. “Kark! Here we go. Two lives left. If I lose those, too, I’ll have to start all over again. You want this to be over? Stop karking distracting me for no karking reason. If that’s not too karking much to ask for!” I never made it past level 75. Do I dare hope she didn’t hide it past that? I visualize someone playing with her lek, gazing up through nonexistent eyelashes, managing the same effect nonetheless. A picture of pure innocence. 37 and one life already lost. I hate this game.

 

“Calm down! I know it takes as long as it takes.” The Sith draws a deep breath, leans against the legs of one of the statues, faces me. “I have a bad feeling. Maybe the shyracks are gathering to come back.” He looks towards the corridor we came through.

 

I rub the strain from my eyes and crack my knuckles again. “Kark them, this changes nothing. If they come back, we’ll deal with them — again! What matters now is that I win this kriffing game. Why don’t you guard the hallway, while I do my part?” I’d prefer to snap some over-sized lizard-birds’ necks right now.

 

Ciner hesitates, presenting me with the full force of his fire-bespeckled gaze. I’m probably the first slave to give him any orders. I don’t care. All I care about is my end of the deal. I pretend not to notice anything amiss. Signs of anger? Like what? Balled fists? Sorry, too busy unclenching my own. There is something I am even more proud of than percentage calculation, and that’s my karking word. I keep my deals. I don’t do kriffing breaches of promises. Yes, I told the Sith, I didn’t know how to open the gate. Still, that little detail lost importance along the way. I want my kriffing chance to be free again. I restart level 37. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Ciner amble over to the passage. He utters something under his breath, but the only thing I catch this time is ‘feedback loop’.

[Lunafox]

The back and forth between Ciner and Thorns cracks me up. They're such an amazing duo. Very much enjoyed the latest, keep it up!

[frauzet]

@Lunafox: Thank you for the encouragement. They are fun to write.

 

________________________________________________________________________________________

 

#37

 

Everything goes well till level 43. Ciner leaves me alone, and I have everything under control. And then my luck takes a break at the wrong moment just like it has been doing so often of late. My plan works fine, only one more matching piece to fill the gap in my construction. More than enough show up with the right shape, but they have the wrong color. I should have seen that coming, should have had a contingency plan, maybe even a con-contingency plan like Ce’na would have had. I don’t. Instead I lose another life. My kick smashes one of the small skull bones littering the floor against the knee of the closest statue. The bone bursts in pieces. “Kark!”

 

“Kark—ark—ark—ark—ark,” the hall yells back at me as if to voice its outrage at the desecration of the rodent sacrifice.

 

The Sith hurries back from the corridor. “What’s wrong? You failed!” he accuses.

 

With thumb and forefinger I press my eyes shut, trying to control the rhythm of my breathing. “I still got one life left!” I snarl.

 

“But?”

 

The simple question, spoken softly, without accusation, takes me off guard. “I am kriffing afraid, I won’t be able to make it,” I admit, my tongue once more faster than my thoughts. I fight the urge to smash the pad into thousand pieces.

 

Ciner puts his hand on my shoulder. The gentleness surprises me. “I believed in you from the start and I still do. You will open the tomb!”

 

I suspect he trusts his soothsayer rather than my skills, but I don’t get to voice my suspicion.

 

“He will open the tomb or he won’t live to regret it!” a no-nonsense voice announces.

 

Drawing his weapon Ciner spins around to face the newcomer exiting the second corridor. “Vemrin! I expected you sooner!” A mocking undertone has entered his voice.

 

“How did he get past the trap?” I wonder aloud and Ciner throws me a warning glance to silence me.

 

Vemrin steps out of the shadows. Human, reddish-brown hair cropped short with some fancy shaved streamlines, scars crisscrossing his otherwise ordinary face. Only his cruel sneer would make him stand out. He progresses to the center of the chamber. Okay — maybe he’d stand out even without it. In build and clothing he matches my friendly neighborhood Sith, even his gait is similar. Two trained fighters, both with a commanding presence that’s hard to miss.

 

“Get on with your task, slave!” he orders, “I am tired of waiting! I expect results after I killed your current master, this sorry excuse for a Sith. Bonding time is over!”

 

My current master? So he plans to take over, does he? And what does he mean, he’s tired of waiting? Has he been eavesdropping? It’s obvious, he and Ciner don’t get along. Given the circumstances I was doing rather well so far. Chances, that’ll be the same with Vemrin, don’t look promising.

 

With a wave of his hand Ciner keeps me silent. “Do as he says. Dealing with Vemrin is my task.” Three strides bring him close to his opponent, who started to circle the chamber counter-clockwise.

 

Their first few blows do nothing but make the chamber ring with their echoes. Dust trickles from above, and I can’t help checking whether the statues are moving. Their eyes are still closed, but the shadows between them are in uproar, the turmoil growing with the fight below picking up speed. Mimicking the duel, they pull now for one then for the other combatant. Offering no certainty regarding the ceiling’s stability the dark demons urge me nonetheless to pry my eyes away to concentrate on the two fighting Sith. The strikes they are dealing are almost to fast to follow. They are not only fighting for their lives but also for my own. Forgotten is the order to find the key, to keep playing. As if anyone would be able to concentrate here on anything beside this fight. At the last moment I roll out of the way of a wild swing that would not have decapitated Ciner but me instead. I retreat with my back towards the gate and place the datapad in a corner on the floor, out of the immediate reach of shuffling feet.

 

Vemrin on the offensive, they trade several blows bringing them back to the center of the floor. Ciner sidesteps the next attack and gives Vemrin a kick in passing, making the other one grunt. They both are already breathing hard. None of them is holding back.

 

“You were hiding in one of the ventilation shafts!” This is not a question, Ciner states a fact.

 

“Even with Tremel’s help it’s a wonder you got this far. You’re spoiled rotten, and ignorant!” Vemrin spits at Ciner’s feet.

 

“I could not detect and disarm the trap because it had already been removed.” Ciner starts the circling this time, his eyed glued to his opponent’s face.

 

Vemrin’s expression speaks of disdain. “Anyone with half your education would have been able to pick up the remaining Force resonances.”

 

“Next time I will.” Ciner owns his fault.

 

“There won’t be a next time for you!” Vemrin spews. Weapon raised overhead he jumps to his next attack.

 

The volume of the shot surprises me as much as everyone else.

[Lunafox]

Ah, that confounded Vemrin. Such a pain, isn't he. I do enjoy very much the way you've captured the SW story through Thorns' eyes and his narration is great. I like the way he talks about Ciner. I'm always happy to see a new installment to your story. Thanks for this!

[MishaCantu]

I must remember to flag this for updates so I know when you post.

 

I love the detailed workings of Thorn's mind. The attention to textures, smells and his own doubts, hopes and fears.

 

Great interaction between him and Ciner, an unexpected comradery born of necessity.

 

Vemrin, cocky as always. Who knew he could be so sneaky..

 

And now a new player.

 

Great chapters, hope to read more soon.