Star Wars - A New Power Ch. 24 - Departure
Salthorae
Imperial Mountain Dew Taster
Angcuru said:Thanks, Salthorae.It's always good to know people are reading and enjoying this.
The next update should be within a few days, and then we get to see young Arias and Miera face the Jedi Trials.
Sweet!
Plus I about died laughing here at work when I realized what your avatar pic actually was... 
Angcuru
First Post
Yeah, That's a pic madeby the guy who played Arlee as a joke since I'm a Psychology Major. Working on an update atmo, making it extra special with the awesome goodness, as some stoners may call it. Postage soon.
Also, go see 300 in theatres today. Do it. Thermopylae movie. Guy who did Sin City. Awesome battle-y goodness. Huzzah!
Working on an update atmo, making it extra special with the awesome goodness, as some stoners may call it. Postage soon.Also, go see 300 in theatres today. Do it. Thermopylae movie. Guy who did Sin City. Awesome battle-y goodness. Huzzah!
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Angcuru
First Post
Ch. 21 - The Unveiling
“Enough of this,” Ki-Adi-Mudi said “question them was we might, it is due time they face the Mirror.”
“We are aware of this necessity, Ki-Adi.” Mace replied. “You are right, of course. We have spoken enough.”
Arias couldn’t quite place it, but he thought he saw a glimpse pass between Mace and Yoda, barely noticeable unless one was paying very close attention to someone. However, Arias knew the traditions, and spent as much time examining Mace as humanly possible.
“Proceed to the Mirror Chamber, we must.” Yoda intoned, and the entire council stood. Yoda carefully lowered himself from his seat and left the chamber, with the council in tow and the two padawans in the middle of the group.
“There are three separate Trials to be undertaken, as you well know.” Oppo said to both Arias and Miera. “First you must undergo a test of your aptitude with diplomacy, which you completed before you entered the council chamber.”
“Pfft.” Miera muttered, her speech barely audible. “Child’s play. If you need to settle a dispute between primitives who still run a feudal government, it is natural to play on interdependencies which neither Lord nor Vassal truly comprehends the enormity of. Honestly, it was the easiest war I’ve ever mediated a peace for.” The Council entered the turbo lift as a whole, displaying an occupancy capacity that would not have been expected by a casual observer. Miera could not help noticing that once the lift went into motion that were traveling downward noticeably faster than usual.
“Second,” Oppo intoned, his voice slightly more forceful than before, “You must face the Mirror. Every padawan has heard of it, naturally, but few have any idea what it truly is. Anywhere from an old man who reads out your deepest, darkest secrets for all to hear to a simple glass mirror that turns black if your heart embraces the Dark Side.”
“I’d prefer the old man.” Arais said. “With the glass mirror you pass or fail. But with the old man one at least has some insight before a decision is reached.”
“Naturally.” Oppo said hurriedly. “Third, is a test of conflict. Of course you both expect to excel in such an examination, given your experience. However, you will be tested in two dimensions, skill with the force, and skill with the lightsaber. Given the methods of your training, I personally expect you will both excel in one and be found quite lacking in the other.”
Miera and Arias exchanged glances, neither agitated, but both curious and full of anticipation. The lift slowed to a halt, and the doors opened. All inside were immediately assaulted by a rush of extremely dry and stale air.
“Masters,” Miera requested, “just how far beneath the temple are we?”
“Far enough that it doesn’t bear thinking about.” Ki-Adi-Mundi replied, and stepped out from the durasteel turbo lift onto a cold stone floor. Just from the echo that emanated from his footsteps, the chamber was massive. Neither floor nor roof could be seen beyond the light of a few glowing rods held by several of the Jedi. There was only an eerie, silent blackness, giving an unnerving feeling of emptiness.
After several minutes of silent walking, with no sign of any advance other than the passing by of the ground at one’s feet, Yoda slowed and spoke “Tested first, which of you shall be?”
“I shall,” Miera replied. She and Arias had gone over this before. They would of course be tested one at a time, and she had been luckier with the dice. Arias wasn’t as skilled as her in the force, not enough that he could detect the very slight nudge to the chance cube she had arranged. Anyway, he always insisted ‘ladies first’.
“Then continue forward you must, and wait here for your return, we will.”
“Should I leave anything behind?” Miera had heard of some Jedi who left their equipment behind during similar trials, and was unsure.
“You must proceed as you are now.” Mace said abruptly.
“For you and you alone, the mirror is. When return to us you do, know you have faced the trial, we shall.” Yoda intoned, giving his words a ritualistic air.
“Face the Mirror, and may the Force be with you.” Mace said to Miera.
Miera met Arias’ eyes for barely a second, but he saw her mind in that brief moment. Fear. Doubt. Apprehension. They had often spoken, debated, and joked of this day, but now that it had become reality, the true weight of the trials began to sink in. Miera went forward into the black and was beyond both Arias’ sight and soon from his ability to fel her through the Force. Emptiness.
Arias shuddered and quickly looked to Mace, who caught his glance and gave a slight nod. So it was to be expected then.
Emptiness. In all their years together, he had always felt Miera’s presence, a comfort he could always rely on. As much as one could rely on having air to breath or light to see by
Emptiness! From birth, through infancy, and to the present day, Miera’s presence had been as natural as…well…life itself.
Emptiness!! Try as he might, Arias could not block out the veritable hole in his being. For all the good his training was in calming him, a man devoid of the force might well have chewed the flesh from his own fingers as a distraction from the EMPTINESS!!
“Be calm, Arias.” Mace said. Arias snapped to attention, and saw that the entire council was looking straight at him. Mace had a hand firmly on Arias’ right shoulder, and abruptly he noticed a damp sensation all that covered him from head to toe. Sweat was running all the way from his scalp to his toes. Had he really reacted so badly? With an apologetic look to the Jedi Masters, Arias pulled a scrap of cloth from his belt pouch and wiped the grime from his face.
“How long?” Arias asked breathlessly. “How long has it been?” Emptiness…
“Nearly two hours.” Mace replied. “You were silent until an hour ago, when Oppo heard you mention something then, ‘emptiness’ I believe it was.”
“That was it, Mace. Emptiness, as you said.” Oppo replied, sitting serenely on Mace’s right. “At first we thought you were referring to the size of the cavern, impressive as is. You kept repeating it, almost inaudibly, Arias.”
“I felt…nothing.” Arias said quietly. A practiced calm smoothly overcame him, but there was still the nagging, bone-grinding sensation that something was missing. “When she stepped beyond my sight, I felt as if she disappeared altogether. I can’t explain it. I never noticed such a thing until now. The sensation is so strange. I might as well be missing a limb, yet still feel it as if aflame. One simply expects it to be there and pays no need, but when it is there no more…”
“When Miera went further into the cave, she passed a barrier that was created the Order many years ago near the founding of this Temple. It ensures privacy for the one undergoing the trial,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, “but it is highly unusual for such a sensation to be felt in its presence.”
“To affect Arias so, a force bond, this may be.” Yoda spoke up.
“It does sound as such.” Oppo stated. “Connections often form through the force between those who are connected by it somehow. Nearly all cases recorded have been of teacher and student, but as the current situation is unique, perhaps we should have anticipated this. These two have always been full of surprises, it is only logical to expect more.”
“You make a good point, Oppo.” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “Bonds have been known to form due to an emotional and physical proximity or trauma between two Force Sensitives, be they Jedi or otherwise. It is easily conceivable that having been paired for as long as they have been know to live, perhaps even since shortly after birth, a connection could have arisen between the two of them.”
Please let them stop their reasoning there. Arais pleaded silently to nothing in particular. The Force perhaps, though not likely. Hopefully Miera’s test would ended soon, otherwise that would open up a whole other can of worms, as some primitive fisherman’s proverb said.
As if in answer to Arias’ desire, Miera stepped into view some distance away. The emptiness faded, but the memory remained. She had not a mark on her, yet she staggered as if gravely wounded. “Unharmed, she is, Arias.” Yoda said as he spotted her and his eyes went wide.
Still, Arias rushed to her side. What else could he do? He couldn’t just sit there. That would be cold, or boorish. Not to mention going against everything that was him telling him to see to her. As he neared her, however, she backed away from him as if he were a mass of writhing serpents. He stopped in his tracks, shocked at her reaction. She whispered something inaudible beneath her breath, but he heard her words in his mind as if she had screamed them into his ear at the top of her lungs.
[STAY BACK!] was the message Arias felt from her, initially. Quickly, however, it became relief as she saw the council behind him, and fell wearily against him.
“Returned from the Mirror you have, Miera Panaar.” Yoda said loudly. “Accept the truth, do you?”
Arias felt no influence in those words through the Force, but saw Miera bite her lower lip as she often did when supremely unsure of how to answer. She soon nodded, however uncertain she may have felt.
“You may rest a while before the Trial of Conflict if you wish, Miera.” Oppo said softly. “Facing the Mirror is often draining, and you should be rested for us to judge you accurately.”
“I will face the test now.” Miera said.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Arias said jokingly.
“Maybe I have.” She replied, absolutely serious. “I’ll undergo the tests now, Masters.”
“But-” Arias halted his words at a glare from Miera, “…just be careful, alright?”
“You will first undergo a test of your capability with the Force.” Mace said. “Master Yoda will administer this test, and following this I will face you in single combat and evaluate your skill with a lightsaber.”
“Go to face the mirror you must, Arias.” Yoda slid off of a small boulder and moved to stand in the center of a circle formed by the rest of the Council. “Finished with the Trials, Miera shall be, when return you do.”
Miera patted his hand lightly before moving into the circle to face Yoda. “Wait,” Arias spoke suddenly. “Miera, when I go to face the mirror-”
“Do not speak of this, Arias.” Oppo said roughly. “She must be as unaware as you. Now go and face the Mirror.”
Soon, all backs were turned to Arias. Miera shot him a confused glance, but soon she was focused elsewhere. He steeled himself for what might be ahead and stepped into the darkness.
To Arias’ surprise, when the emptiness returned it seemed dulled. All of the worries of the modern world, of his anxiety over the trials, Tabano’s high expectations, all of his burdens simply...faded away. Surrounded by darkness, hearing nothing but his own footsteps Arias walked onward. For some time he continued, apprehensive as to what he might encounter.
After what seemed like several hours had passed, Arias began to meditate as he walked. He remained alert as ever, yet his mind gained focus exceeding by far what his physical senses could ascertain. His eyelids grew heavier, and drooped until shutting altogether.
The cracking of bone and the sweet, sweet scent of freshly killed game roasting over a fire raised the weariness from his bones, jerking him from a reverie as he rested his chin on the butt of the wooden spear. It had been a good hunt, with many beasts taken and none of the tribe suffering so much as a scrape.
Stifling a yawn and stretching out stiff limbs, the hunter lay the weapon aside and approached his fellows, who were sharing the spoils of the hunt with their wives and children. Many of them saw his coming, and greeted him with a smile. A small girl met him as he sat on a boulder padded by the beasts’ freshly flayed skins, and offered him the leg of their catch. He accepted it gladly, giving her a warm smile. Obviously from his own kill, as he noticed where the flesh had been rent by his own unique method of taking down a prey animal. A thrust was made directly in the center of the rear thigh clear through the flesh, then twisted to the side and drawn out. Muscle was ruined, tendons town, blood vessels opened and the nerves shocked rendering the limb completely immobile whist creating a horribly bloodied wound from which the animal rapidly bled to death. How thoughtful. Yet so many of the animals killed by the hunt bore his mark…
He was unsure what the pretty woman who took a place at his side said as he took a bite out of the flesh in his hands, as it came out a garbled mash of words he could not comprehend. When he did not reply quickly enough, she rolled her eyes upward and gestured with a finger, and the hunk of meat was jerked from his teeth. His reply to her was short and just as foreign somehow, and was followed immediately by another bite of meat which was still hanging in the air. Apparently she was appeased, as she grinned lustrously and strode into a nearby tent, her shapely hips a-swagger.
A stone-faced man sitting across the fire from him gave a large grin, which apparently ever man in the camp mirrored. He grunted, tossed the half-finished leg to the man and stood up, stretching his limbs. A chorus of hooting and cheering came from the hunters around the fire, who all had their taut right fist raised to him, a gesture which he returned to the lot of them. After which he promptly strode into the tent. Just as he opened the flaps he felt his back being pelted by many small fleshy objects and followed by much laughter. One the severed phalluses he hurled back at them struck a young woman distributing drink in the behind, creating much celebration.
Before entering the tent, he quickly checked his face in a pool of water to make sure he wouldn’t be smearing any grease or animal bits onto his new wife.
Arias gasped. The face reflected in the water was his own.
The experience had been interesting to say the least, though he thought he had been reliving another man’s memories. He certainly would never have thought such behavior could be his own.
What was more, Arias could swear that the woman had been Miera, and could hardly begin debating his thoughts when he blacked out again.
The warriors raised their shields and bloodied arms in the air, roaring to wake the dead and taunting the fleeing enemy. His bronze helm was vital protection, but damn they made everything sound distant. He was sure of one thing that was being said out of the mess of shouting, his own name.
A flick of his iron short sword sent a streak of red across the shattered bodies of the enemies strewn at his feet. Well over ten thousand of the enemy, and so few of his own men. He so detested fighting in aid of his traditional rival, but the alternative was unfortunately the loss of such a rival. Without someone to keep warring with, what could keep his men ready for war?
He picked up a fallen comrade’s spear to replace his own, shouting to the assembled soldiers the dead man’s name so they might remember that he was of the first to die amongst them. A hail of shouts responded, matched by a clattering of shields and arms.
After a good night’s rest and a hearty meal of nothing less than dried meat and wheat beer, and a bit of new wine, he was ready to lead his men into battle once again. News of a traitor reached his ears, coupled with the cowardice of the peace-lovers’ allies, meant that his forces would soon be totally surrounded, turning the topographical advantage of the pass into a death trap. Perfect.
He ordered all of the peace-lovers away from the battle, and they eagerly fell back and fled to their doomed city. News of their being surrounded was met with cheers and yelps of joy by his fellow warriors. They were hemmed in from all sides, facing a force many times their own which brought them the promise of death in glorious battle, with each man taking down enemies according to his own worth.
A perfect death… His soldiers were soon alone against the enemy, who were steadily approaching from two fronts. They were being enclosed from front and back, shields were raised to deflect the foes and spears thrust outward to snuff them out. Arrows rained down upon them, and were brought to a halt before they reached the formation. His wife’s doing, and an ability which granted her much esteem amongst the soldiers. She stood in the center of the formation behind the first line of platoons, upright and focused intently on her task. He stood at her side, encased from head to toe in lamellar and bronze, bristling with weaponry strapped wherever it could be. Five knives, three swords, and a spear were easily accessible, ready to dispatch any foe in his path. And that on top of his often bloodied shield.
Soon enough, after hours of combat, the disadvantage of a two-front battle countered any strength they could muster, and fatigue, hunger, and relentless combat proved their better. He had sent his wife off some minutes ago, her sliding down the cliff face to swim to safety from the combat and splashes of the corpses of his foes falling lifelessly into the water, his farewell. The shield wall collapsed, with too few men left alive to sustain it and endlessly besieged by the foe. In the end, the final kills were scored in single combat. Such battle brought immeasurable honor, suitable for one who lasted so long against such a foe.
Soon enough, he was the last of his men standing, bloodied in countless places and surrounded by a ring of terrified foes. Within the last few minutes, the slaughter visited upon them could be rivaled only in their most dreadful of terrible fears.
The Force, his wife had called it. Such a strange thing, and oh such an ally to have. The power he now wielded against his enemies was beyond their comprehension. His weapons had been dulled and battered into uselessness, his armor rent and crushed beyond any aid. He now wore only his own skin, yet no weapon could do more than scratch him, and he wielded neither blade nor spear, but searing light, brought into being by no more than his own will. With a blood curdling scream he leapt at the nearest of them, his blade burning through flesh, steel and bone with the greatest of ease. Their blades and arrows could do no more irritate, yet their blows were so immeasurably numerous that he was soon wounded beyond recognition, nearly flayed yet still carving his way through the enemy ranks.
Those who tried to flee were cut down by their comrades, though truth be told the only chance for survival was to get as far away as possible. His ruined flesh dripped blood freely, and fatigue began to threaten. His leap to the enemy ended with him sprawled in a heap, surrounded by stabbing and slashing blades. He felt his body begin to fail, and with what remained of his will, the air around the faces of those soldiers who were bloodying him burst into flame, choking them with what remained of the burning hate that had seeped into his very being. He grasped the throat of the nearest man, crushing him to death, staring him straight in the eyes as the life slowly left them both and laughing madly as he went.
Arias abruptly fell to his knees and emptied his stomach. The man whose memories he had relived had felt every single blow that landed upon him. Every stab of the spear, strike of the arrow, slash of the blade and rending of an axe had been his to enjoy. He had tried to block out the pain, the shock, and the disgust at what he had experienced. Arias shuddered. As with the first dream, his last sight had been a reflection of his own face, though much more bearded and wounded in the bloodied shield of a foe. The other face he could not doubt was that of his wife, who undoubtedly was Miera.
The would-be Jedi would have liked nothing more than for the trials to end there, but to his dismay, all was overcome by darkness yet again.
He held his lightsaber at the throat of his latest challenger, the foe’s own blade sent to the ground far out of reach. The best of the Sith, they had called the fallen man. Blademaster amongst them, and he had fought so poorly that he had not gotten in a single blow before he had been rendered disarmed and helpless.
“If you would kill me, My Lord, please do so before I am dishonored by your mercy.” The defeated man spoke, and was promptly obliged. His secured his saber as the head hit the floor with a hollow clunk, and proceeded to the sparring rooms where he had ordered the survivors of his attack to await his pleasure. Dull in skill with the blade and dull in wit as well was the order of the day amongst these fools, it seemed. The strongest always took command amongst them, according to tradition, so naturally, he took that command after slaughtering everyone in their power structure, leaving only the students alive.
As he walked he noticed several of the foolish apprentices who had tried to interfere in his conquest and been dealt with before even drawing their blades. So weak.
He found the room much as he expected it. It was a sizable room with hardwood floors, with enough space to allow for free movement in a duel with room to spare for spectators. Currently however, the walls were lined by apprentice Sith. They stank of fear and anxiety, perfect for what he had planned.
“Who can tell me what your former Blademaster’s fatal error was?” He asked the assembly upon entering. “That is, aside from deciding to challenge me, of course. What was the error of his approaching the fight?”
“He was too hesitant.” A young iridorian girl answered timidly. When he nodded for her to continue she added, “He had several opportunities to land a blow upon you, but instead fought defensively.”
“And why is that?” He asked the assembly once more.
“He was unused to fighting an opponent who used dual blades.” A twilek answered. “He could only guard or attack at any given time, while you could fend of his blade and safely make strikes of your own.”
“Remember that.” He commanded, “Now, I will be evaluating your individual skills to see how badly you are lacking after studying under such a fool. But first I want to see who the best amongst you here is. All of you attack me at once.” He drew his weapons from the small of his back, the bronze blades springing to life. The assembled students glanced apprehensively at one another, but their light sabers began igniting once he said, “You have five seconds to attack me before I start slaughtering you.”
At first only two of them rushed him, simple novices, their attacks were blocked and in the same move disarmed and thrown out of the room. They were followed by a middle-aged man who appeared to have some skill, but was promptly rendered unconscious by a knee to his groin. He too, was ejected bodily into the corridor.
One by one they all went flying. Two by two they all fell down. As for the third his hate grew stronger, and from his sight they all were thrown. “They are in a sad state, wife,” he said to the comely woman who had entered the room moments before, “but they show potential. Within a few years they should be formidable. With the code these fools follow, they should easily be able to overcome the doubts that keep the Jedi from mastering the art of combat.”
“That is good to know,” she mused, “and if these Sith should find themselves in combat with our old comrades?”
“Pfft.” He snorted. “I care not. Sooner or later they will face destruction, it matters little to me.”
“Nor to me,” she responded, “though it appears you’ve missed a student.” She pointed past his shoulder, and suddenly Arias was no longer looking out of the man’s eyes, he was looking into them. Staring at his own face.
Arias welcomed that darkness following the end of that vision, crouched on the ground and gulping fresh air. Miera again, that woman’s face, and her voice, now.
snap-hisssss Arias instinctively drew his own blades and leapt away from the sound, coming to rest a good ten meters away. He rose to his feet and faced his opponent.
The creeping shadows showed only the light of two bronze blades, readied against attack exactly as his own blue blades were.
“Enough of this,” Ki-Adi-Mudi said “question them was we might, it is due time they face the Mirror.”
“We are aware of this necessity, Ki-Adi.” Mace replied. “You are right, of course. We have spoken enough.”
Arias couldn’t quite place it, but he thought he saw a glimpse pass between Mace and Yoda, barely noticeable unless one was paying very close attention to someone. However, Arias knew the traditions, and spent as much time examining Mace as humanly possible.
“Proceed to the Mirror Chamber, we must.” Yoda intoned, and the entire council stood. Yoda carefully lowered himself from his seat and left the chamber, with the council in tow and the two padawans in the middle of the group.
“There are three separate Trials to be undertaken, as you well know.” Oppo said to both Arias and Miera. “First you must undergo a test of your aptitude with diplomacy, which you completed before you entered the council chamber.”
“Pfft.” Miera muttered, her speech barely audible. “Child’s play. If you need to settle a dispute between primitives who still run a feudal government, it is natural to play on interdependencies which neither Lord nor Vassal truly comprehends the enormity of. Honestly, it was the easiest war I’ve ever mediated a peace for.” The Council entered the turbo lift as a whole, displaying an occupancy capacity that would not have been expected by a casual observer. Miera could not help noticing that once the lift went into motion that were traveling downward noticeably faster than usual.
“Second,” Oppo intoned, his voice slightly more forceful than before, “You must face the Mirror. Every padawan has heard of it, naturally, but few have any idea what it truly is. Anywhere from an old man who reads out your deepest, darkest secrets for all to hear to a simple glass mirror that turns black if your heart embraces the Dark Side.”
“I’d prefer the old man.” Arais said. “With the glass mirror you pass or fail. But with the old man one at least has some insight before a decision is reached.”
“Naturally.” Oppo said hurriedly. “Third, is a test of conflict. Of course you both expect to excel in such an examination, given your experience. However, you will be tested in two dimensions, skill with the force, and skill with the lightsaber. Given the methods of your training, I personally expect you will both excel in one and be found quite lacking in the other.”
Miera and Arias exchanged glances, neither agitated, but both curious and full of anticipation. The lift slowed to a halt, and the doors opened. All inside were immediately assaulted by a rush of extremely dry and stale air.
“Masters,” Miera requested, “just how far beneath the temple are we?”
“Far enough that it doesn’t bear thinking about.” Ki-Adi-Mundi replied, and stepped out from the durasteel turbo lift onto a cold stone floor. Just from the echo that emanated from his footsteps, the chamber was massive. Neither floor nor roof could be seen beyond the light of a few glowing rods held by several of the Jedi. There was only an eerie, silent blackness, giving an unnerving feeling of emptiness.
After several minutes of silent walking, with no sign of any advance other than the passing by of the ground at one’s feet, Yoda slowed and spoke “Tested first, which of you shall be?”
“I shall,” Miera replied. She and Arias had gone over this before. They would of course be tested one at a time, and she had been luckier with the dice. Arias wasn’t as skilled as her in the force, not enough that he could detect the very slight nudge to the chance cube she had arranged. Anyway, he always insisted ‘ladies first’.
“Then continue forward you must, and wait here for your return, we will.”
“Should I leave anything behind?” Miera had heard of some Jedi who left their equipment behind during similar trials, and was unsure.
“You must proceed as you are now.” Mace said abruptly.
“For you and you alone, the mirror is. When return to us you do, know you have faced the trial, we shall.” Yoda intoned, giving his words a ritualistic air.
“Face the Mirror, and may the Force be with you.” Mace said to Miera.
Miera met Arias’ eyes for barely a second, but he saw her mind in that brief moment. Fear. Doubt. Apprehension. They had often spoken, debated, and joked of this day, but now that it had become reality, the true weight of the trials began to sink in. Miera went forward into the black and was beyond both Arias’ sight and soon from his ability to fel her through the Force. Emptiness.
Arias shuddered and quickly looked to Mace, who caught his glance and gave a slight nod. So it was to be expected then.
Emptiness. In all their years together, he had always felt Miera’s presence, a comfort he could always rely on. As much as one could rely on having air to breath or light to see by
Emptiness! From birth, through infancy, and to the present day, Miera’s presence had been as natural as…well…life itself.
Emptiness!! Try as he might, Arias could not block out the veritable hole in his being. For all the good his training was in calming him, a man devoid of the force might well have chewed the flesh from his own fingers as a distraction from the EMPTINESS!!
“Be calm, Arias.” Mace said. Arias snapped to attention, and saw that the entire council was looking straight at him. Mace had a hand firmly on Arias’ right shoulder, and abruptly he noticed a damp sensation all that covered him from head to toe. Sweat was running all the way from his scalp to his toes. Had he really reacted so badly? With an apologetic look to the Jedi Masters, Arias pulled a scrap of cloth from his belt pouch and wiped the grime from his face.
“How long?” Arias asked breathlessly. “How long has it been?” Emptiness…
“Nearly two hours.” Mace replied. “You were silent until an hour ago, when Oppo heard you mention something then, ‘emptiness’ I believe it was.”
“That was it, Mace. Emptiness, as you said.” Oppo replied, sitting serenely on Mace’s right. “At first we thought you were referring to the size of the cavern, impressive as is. You kept repeating it, almost inaudibly, Arias.”
“I felt…nothing.” Arias said quietly. A practiced calm smoothly overcame him, but there was still the nagging, bone-grinding sensation that something was missing. “When she stepped beyond my sight, I felt as if she disappeared altogether. I can’t explain it. I never noticed such a thing until now. The sensation is so strange. I might as well be missing a limb, yet still feel it as if aflame. One simply expects it to be there and pays no need, but when it is there no more…”
“When Miera went further into the cave, she passed a barrier that was created the Order many years ago near the founding of this Temple. It ensures privacy for the one undergoing the trial,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, “but it is highly unusual for such a sensation to be felt in its presence.”
“To affect Arias so, a force bond, this may be.” Yoda spoke up.
“It does sound as such.” Oppo stated. “Connections often form through the force between those who are connected by it somehow. Nearly all cases recorded have been of teacher and student, but as the current situation is unique, perhaps we should have anticipated this. These two have always been full of surprises, it is only logical to expect more.”
“You make a good point, Oppo.” Ki-Adi-Mundi said. “Bonds have been known to form due to an emotional and physical proximity or trauma between two Force Sensitives, be they Jedi or otherwise. It is easily conceivable that having been paired for as long as they have been know to live, perhaps even since shortly after birth, a connection could have arisen between the two of them.”
Please let them stop their reasoning there. Arais pleaded silently to nothing in particular. The Force perhaps, though not likely. Hopefully Miera’s test would ended soon, otherwise that would open up a whole other can of worms, as some primitive fisherman’s proverb said.
As if in answer to Arias’ desire, Miera stepped into view some distance away. The emptiness faded, but the memory remained. She had not a mark on her, yet she staggered as if gravely wounded. “Unharmed, she is, Arias.” Yoda said as he spotted her and his eyes went wide.
Still, Arias rushed to her side. What else could he do? He couldn’t just sit there. That would be cold, or boorish. Not to mention going against everything that was him telling him to see to her. As he neared her, however, she backed away from him as if he were a mass of writhing serpents. He stopped in his tracks, shocked at her reaction. She whispered something inaudible beneath her breath, but he heard her words in his mind as if she had screamed them into his ear at the top of her lungs.
[STAY BACK!] was the message Arias felt from her, initially. Quickly, however, it became relief as she saw the council behind him, and fell wearily against him.
“Returned from the Mirror you have, Miera Panaar.” Yoda said loudly. “Accept the truth, do you?”
Arias felt no influence in those words through the Force, but saw Miera bite her lower lip as she often did when supremely unsure of how to answer. She soon nodded, however uncertain she may have felt.
“You may rest a while before the Trial of Conflict if you wish, Miera.” Oppo said softly. “Facing the Mirror is often draining, and you should be rested for us to judge you accurately.”
“I will face the test now.” Miera said.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Arias said jokingly.
“Maybe I have.” She replied, absolutely serious. “I’ll undergo the tests now, Masters.”
“But-” Arias halted his words at a glare from Miera, “…just be careful, alright?”
“You will first undergo a test of your capability with the Force.” Mace said. “Master Yoda will administer this test, and following this I will face you in single combat and evaluate your skill with a lightsaber.”
“Go to face the mirror you must, Arias.” Yoda slid off of a small boulder and moved to stand in the center of a circle formed by the rest of the Council. “Finished with the Trials, Miera shall be, when return you do.”
Miera patted his hand lightly before moving into the circle to face Yoda. “Wait,” Arias spoke suddenly. “Miera, when I go to face the mirror-”
“Do not speak of this, Arias.” Oppo said roughly. “She must be as unaware as you. Now go and face the Mirror.”
Soon, all backs were turned to Arias. Miera shot him a confused glance, but soon she was focused elsewhere. He steeled himself for what might be ahead and stepped into the darkness.
***
To Arias’ surprise, when the emptiness returned it seemed dulled. All of the worries of the modern world, of his anxiety over the trials, Tabano’s high expectations, all of his burdens simply...faded away. Surrounded by darkness, hearing nothing but his own footsteps Arias walked onward. For some time he continued, apprehensive as to what he might encounter.
After what seemed like several hours had passed, Arias began to meditate as he walked. He remained alert as ever, yet his mind gained focus exceeding by far what his physical senses could ascertain. His eyelids grew heavier, and drooped until shutting altogether.
***
The cracking of bone and the sweet, sweet scent of freshly killed game roasting over a fire raised the weariness from his bones, jerking him from a reverie as he rested his chin on the butt of the wooden spear. It had been a good hunt, with many beasts taken and none of the tribe suffering so much as a scrape.
Stifling a yawn and stretching out stiff limbs, the hunter lay the weapon aside and approached his fellows, who were sharing the spoils of the hunt with their wives and children. Many of them saw his coming, and greeted him with a smile. A small girl met him as he sat on a boulder padded by the beasts’ freshly flayed skins, and offered him the leg of their catch. He accepted it gladly, giving her a warm smile. Obviously from his own kill, as he noticed where the flesh had been rent by his own unique method of taking down a prey animal. A thrust was made directly in the center of the rear thigh clear through the flesh, then twisted to the side and drawn out. Muscle was ruined, tendons town, blood vessels opened and the nerves shocked rendering the limb completely immobile whist creating a horribly bloodied wound from which the animal rapidly bled to death. How thoughtful. Yet so many of the animals killed by the hunt bore his mark…
He was unsure what the pretty woman who took a place at his side said as he took a bite out of the flesh in his hands, as it came out a garbled mash of words he could not comprehend. When he did not reply quickly enough, she rolled her eyes upward and gestured with a finger, and the hunk of meat was jerked from his teeth. His reply to her was short and just as foreign somehow, and was followed immediately by another bite of meat which was still hanging in the air. Apparently she was appeased, as she grinned lustrously and strode into a nearby tent, her shapely hips a-swagger.
A stone-faced man sitting across the fire from him gave a large grin, which apparently ever man in the camp mirrored. He grunted, tossed the half-finished leg to the man and stood up, stretching his limbs. A chorus of hooting and cheering came from the hunters around the fire, who all had their taut right fist raised to him, a gesture which he returned to the lot of them. After which he promptly strode into the tent. Just as he opened the flaps he felt his back being pelted by many small fleshy objects and followed by much laughter. One the severed phalluses he hurled back at them struck a young woman distributing drink in the behind, creating much celebration.
Before entering the tent, he quickly checked his face in a pool of water to make sure he wouldn’t be smearing any grease or animal bits onto his new wife.
***
Arias gasped. The face reflected in the water was his own.
The experience had been interesting to say the least, though he thought he had been reliving another man’s memories. He certainly would never have thought such behavior could be his own.
What was more, Arias could swear that the woman had been Miera, and could hardly begin debating his thoughts when he blacked out again.
***
The warriors raised their shields and bloodied arms in the air, roaring to wake the dead and taunting the fleeing enemy. His bronze helm was vital protection, but damn they made everything sound distant. He was sure of one thing that was being said out of the mess of shouting, his own name.
A flick of his iron short sword sent a streak of red across the shattered bodies of the enemies strewn at his feet. Well over ten thousand of the enemy, and so few of his own men. He so detested fighting in aid of his traditional rival, but the alternative was unfortunately the loss of such a rival. Without someone to keep warring with, what could keep his men ready for war?
He picked up a fallen comrade’s spear to replace his own, shouting to the assembled soldiers the dead man’s name so they might remember that he was of the first to die amongst them. A hail of shouts responded, matched by a clattering of shields and arms.
After a good night’s rest and a hearty meal of nothing less than dried meat and wheat beer, and a bit of new wine, he was ready to lead his men into battle once again. News of a traitor reached his ears, coupled with the cowardice of the peace-lovers’ allies, meant that his forces would soon be totally surrounded, turning the topographical advantage of the pass into a death trap. Perfect.
He ordered all of the peace-lovers away from the battle, and they eagerly fell back and fled to their doomed city. News of their being surrounded was met with cheers and yelps of joy by his fellow warriors. They were hemmed in from all sides, facing a force many times their own which brought them the promise of death in glorious battle, with each man taking down enemies according to his own worth.
A perfect death… His soldiers were soon alone against the enemy, who were steadily approaching from two fronts. They were being enclosed from front and back, shields were raised to deflect the foes and spears thrust outward to snuff them out. Arrows rained down upon them, and were brought to a halt before they reached the formation. His wife’s doing, and an ability which granted her much esteem amongst the soldiers. She stood in the center of the formation behind the first line of platoons, upright and focused intently on her task. He stood at her side, encased from head to toe in lamellar and bronze, bristling with weaponry strapped wherever it could be. Five knives, three swords, and a spear were easily accessible, ready to dispatch any foe in his path. And that on top of his often bloodied shield.
Soon enough, after hours of combat, the disadvantage of a two-front battle countered any strength they could muster, and fatigue, hunger, and relentless combat proved their better. He had sent his wife off some minutes ago, her sliding down the cliff face to swim to safety from the combat and splashes of the corpses of his foes falling lifelessly into the water, his farewell. The shield wall collapsed, with too few men left alive to sustain it and endlessly besieged by the foe. In the end, the final kills were scored in single combat. Such battle brought immeasurable honor, suitable for one who lasted so long against such a foe.
Soon enough, he was the last of his men standing, bloodied in countless places and surrounded by a ring of terrified foes. Within the last few minutes, the slaughter visited upon them could be rivaled only in their most dreadful of terrible fears.
The Force, his wife had called it. Such a strange thing, and oh such an ally to have. The power he now wielded against his enemies was beyond their comprehension. His weapons had been dulled and battered into uselessness, his armor rent and crushed beyond any aid. He now wore only his own skin, yet no weapon could do more than scratch him, and he wielded neither blade nor spear, but searing light, brought into being by no more than his own will. With a blood curdling scream he leapt at the nearest of them, his blade burning through flesh, steel and bone with the greatest of ease. Their blades and arrows could do no more irritate, yet their blows were so immeasurably numerous that he was soon wounded beyond recognition, nearly flayed yet still carving his way through the enemy ranks.
Those who tried to flee were cut down by their comrades, though truth be told the only chance for survival was to get as far away as possible. His ruined flesh dripped blood freely, and fatigue began to threaten. His leap to the enemy ended with him sprawled in a heap, surrounded by stabbing and slashing blades. He felt his body begin to fail, and with what remained of his will, the air around the faces of those soldiers who were bloodying him burst into flame, choking them with what remained of the burning hate that had seeped into his very being. He grasped the throat of the nearest man, crushing him to death, staring him straight in the eyes as the life slowly left them both and laughing madly as he went.
***
Arias abruptly fell to his knees and emptied his stomach. The man whose memories he had relived had felt every single blow that landed upon him. Every stab of the spear, strike of the arrow, slash of the blade and rending of an axe had been his to enjoy. He had tried to block out the pain, the shock, and the disgust at what he had experienced. Arias shuddered. As with the first dream, his last sight had been a reflection of his own face, though much more bearded and wounded in the bloodied shield of a foe. The other face he could not doubt was that of his wife, who undoubtedly was Miera.
The would-be Jedi would have liked nothing more than for the trials to end there, but to his dismay, all was overcome by darkness yet again.
***
He held his lightsaber at the throat of his latest challenger, the foe’s own blade sent to the ground far out of reach. The best of the Sith, they had called the fallen man. Blademaster amongst them, and he had fought so poorly that he had not gotten in a single blow before he had been rendered disarmed and helpless.
“If you would kill me, My Lord, please do so before I am dishonored by your mercy.” The defeated man spoke, and was promptly obliged. His secured his saber as the head hit the floor with a hollow clunk, and proceeded to the sparring rooms where he had ordered the survivors of his attack to await his pleasure. Dull in skill with the blade and dull in wit as well was the order of the day amongst these fools, it seemed. The strongest always took command amongst them, according to tradition, so naturally, he took that command after slaughtering everyone in their power structure, leaving only the students alive.
As he walked he noticed several of the foolish apprentices who had tried to interfere in his conquest and been dealt with before even drawing their blades. So weak.
He found the room much as he expected it. It was a sizable room with hardwood floors, with enough space to allow for free movement in a duel with room to spare for spectators. Currently however, the walls were lined by apprentice Sith. They stank of fear and anxiety, perfect for what he had planned.
“Who can tell me what your former Blademaster’s fatal error was?” He asked the assembly upon entering. “That is, aside from deciding to challenge me, of course. What was the error of his approaching the fight?”
“He was too hesitant.” A young iridorian girl answered timidly. When he nodded for her to continue she added, “He had several opportunities to land a blow upon you, but instead fought defensively.”
“And why is that?” He asked the assembly once more.
“He was unused to fighting an opponent who used dual blades.” A twilek answered. “He could only guard or attack at any given time, while you could fend of his blade and safely make strikes of your own.”
“Remember that.” He commanded, “Now, I will be evaluating your individual skills to see how badly you are lacking after studying under such a fool. But first I want to see who the best amongst you here is. All of you attack me at once.” He drew his weapons from the small of his back, the bronze blades springing to life. The assembled students glanced apprehensively at one another, but their light sabers began igniting once he said, “You have five seconds to attack me before I start slaughtering you.”
At first only two of them rushed him, simple novices, their attacks were blocked and in the same move disarmed and thrown out of the room. They were followed by a middle-aged man who appeared to have some skill, but was promptly rendered unconscious by a knee to his groin. He too, was ejected bodily into the corridor.
One by one they all went flying. Two by two they all fell down. As for the third his hate grew stronger, and from his sight they all were thrown. “They are in a sad state, wife,” he said to the comely woman who had entered the room moments before, “but they show potential. Within a few years they should be formidable. With the code these fools follow, they should easily be able to overcome the doubts that keep the Jedi from mastering the art of combat.”
“That is good to know,” she mused, “and if these Sith should find themselves in combat with our old comrades?”
“Pfft.” He snorted. “I care not. Sooner or later they will face destruction, it matters little to me.”
“Nor to me,” she responded, “though it appears you’ve missed a student.” She pointed past his shoulder, and suddenly Arias was no longer looking out of the man’s eyes, he was looking into them. Staring at his own face.
***
Arias welcomed that darkness following the end of that vision, crouched on the ground and gulping fresh air. Miera again, that woman’s face, and her voice, now.
snap-hisssss Arias instinctively drew his own blades and leapt away from the sound, coming to rest a good ten meters away. He rose to his feet and faced his opponent.
The creeping shadows showed only the light of two bronze blades, readied against attack exactly as his own blue blades were.
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Angcuru
First Post
Ch. 22 - Odd Suprises
Just as suddenly as the maslith had knocked over and begun chewing upon Arlee, it lost interest in his non-fleshy limbs and bolted towards the battlefield.
Aasan, being only mildly interested in the strange talk of old acquaintances who should be dead showing up at very inopportune times, was the only one near the ships to notice the strange attack. He quickly raised his carbine, aimed the unfriendly end towards the crazed canine that was barreling down on his position, and fired a bolt of energy right past Kia’s ear. This of course drew Kia’s attention most thoroughly. Before the redhead could demand the cause for his sudden discharging of weaponry in close proximity to her face, Kal leapt past her with lightsaber in hand and cut the legs out from under the wounded Maslith that was poised to pounce on her unprotected back with a swing that almost singed her hair. Adrial reflexively followed suit with a slice that took the beast’s head, leaving pile of dead flesh at Kia’s feet.
“Master, I think it’s time we left.” Jorran said anxiously. Kia looked from Kal to Aasan to Adrial, unsure of whether to thank them or start shaking them furiously. She was spared the decision as she realized that the field of bodies was quickly being swarmed over by the revolting creatures. For now they were distracted by the carrion that was the slain Stormtroopers, but she know firsthand that they were just a scouting pack in a big horde of smelly, nasty beasts.
“I think you’re right Kal.” Aasan added, already backing up the Dawnsprinter’s ramp.
“Jaess, have your droid follow us in your shuttle. There are people who need to come with us and we could use the extra space.” Miera told the rebel operative in passing as she and Kal hurried onto the Dawnsprinter. “Go with Arais on the Imperial ship, he’ll have need of you there.”
Jaess was given no time to argue, and quickly followed Arais and Adrial onto the captured assault shuttle. Jorran guarded the ramp until it sealed shut, holding his saber at the ready should any of the masliths turn on them.
“I assume you had the good sense to leave the surviving pilot conscious?” Arais asked her. She nodded, having bound the fellow to his seat rather firmly. “Good, go rouse him and instruct him to have this shuttle follow the Dawnsprinter.” He strode off without further words.
The young rebel rushed towards the cockpit and yanked the gag from the pilot’s mouth.
“Listen to me, you waste of life.” She growled threateningly, pressing a blackened knife underneath his chin. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I need you to pilot this ship, understand?” The poor fellow tried to nod, but the motion drew blood and he gave a muffled ‘uh-huh’. “Good. Get this ship off the ground and follow the Corellian ship. If you even think of trying to warn the other Imperials, I’ll make you wish you had been roasted alive. Do you understand me?” She pushed the knife in a bit harder for emphasis.
The man nodded speechlessly and soon the shuttle was airborne. Jaess wiped the tip of her blade on the pilot’s hat to add a little extra ‘oomph’ to her bluff.
Jorran helped Adrial toss the dead copilot out of the ship. Amazingly, several of the beasts leapt up to catch the body in mid-air.
“Disgusting.” Adrial spat.
“Is that necessary? Throwing his body to those creatures, I mean.” Jorran asked the short woman.
“Do you find it unsettling, Jorran?” Arais spoke from behind them, causing him to jump slightly.
“I know we have to get rid of the corpse, but just tossing him out there to be eaten, it doesn’t feel right.” Jorran shrugged.
“If we hadn’t dealt with them, it would be innocent civilians down there serving as fresh carrion, Jorran, not soldiers.” His new teacher said flatly.
“Still, it seems almost barbaric the way we just slaughtered them, and now they’re being eaten.”
“Barbaric?” Arias questioned. “I can point to several corpses down there that can attest to your own handiwork in the matter.”
“I was defending myself.” Jorran said defensively.
“And that’s why you hesitated.” Arais said accusingly. “You hesitated and missed your opportunity to take advantage of their surprise. You might have killed a few of them before they could react, and that could have prevented Kal’s wound. He’ll carry that scar for the rest of his life, and he should be proud of it, but it could have been avoided.”
“Master Arias, I-” Jorran tried to respond but was interrupted.
“You what? You thought to yourself, ‘These are people, just like me.’, so you’d rather not kill them. The fact of the matter is, Jorran,” Arais stepped closer, coming face to face with Jorran. “none of it matters. You must always be ready, and willing to kill whenever it is necessary. If you are not, you hesitate, and your friends are hurt or killed.”
Jorran stiffened, wanting to tell Arais off. He fortunately decided against it. “I understand, master.”
“Good. The essence of battle is killing, and if you are hesitant to do so, you will find yourself amongst the slain. Once you enter battle, your opponent’s life means nothing. Living with the consequences of their demise is far better than them living with the weight of your own.” Arais had one of his lightsabers ignited and the blade held dangerously close to Jorran’s throat before he could blink. “I expect that the next time you are in combat, you will remember that.” Arais said coldly before walking off, lightsaber still lit.
“We need to lead them to where we hid the villagers, Kia. Do you recall the way?” Miera asked politely.
“Yeah, I can have us there in one quarter of an hour, easy.” The redhead replied, checking the readout from the chronometer.
“Good, do you have your ship in autopilot, Kia?” Miera enquired.
After a few commands were given, Kia replied, “I am now, why do you ask?”
“I would like to give you something.” Miera produced a flawless spherical white diamond the size of a man’s eye, and dropped it right into Kia’s open hand.
“I. Um… Wow.” Kia held it up to a bright LED and quickly appraised it, having some familiarity with this sort of thing. Perfect. Easily worth enough credits to give the Dawnsprinter a complete overhaul and have enough left over to purchase the average capital-class warship. “Huh. Thanks.”
“I give you this as a sign of friendship, Kia. This gem serves as the focusing crystal of a lightsaber, the kind of which every Sethi carries.” She indicated her own lightsaber. “However, it can only be used by one who is balanced in the Force. Too much hate, or too little, an excess of love, the absence of anger, and it is simply a gem for the one carrying it.”
“I’m really flattered by this, Miera.” Kia said very, very honestly. “But I have no intention of joining your Order.”
“I would be glad if you were to do so, but I am not asking such a decision of you.” Miera replied. “There is a good chance that in the events that are the come, we may not see one another for quite some time. In that event, I would like you to keep this as a reminder of us. Try and focus on it, if you will. Try and make it glow.”
Kia looked at Miera for a moment, slightly suspicious, but she did focus. It was like trying to stand upright on a rolling log whilst covered in frictionless lubricant in the middle of a hurricane. Miera did not look the slightest bit amused when Kia looked startled. Nor did she look not amused, such an odd woman.
“It is quite a shock at first, of course.” Miera commented on Kia’s surprise. “With a little practice, you can begin to use it as an aid for meditation. I don’t suppose you’ve ever meditated, have you?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Kia said, still focused on the gem. Wow. I’m rich. “Well, not lately, anyway. Every now and again I seem to realize what it means to be Force Sensitive and give it a try, but it never goes anywhere. I get all relaxed and spaced out or whatever it is you have to do, but then I get restless and give up.” She held the diamond up to light again. Wow.
“Yes, it can be as such when one is not in regular practice. You may grow to be quite formidable, should you choose to.”
“Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” Kia replied. “I heard that Skywalker had trouble moving his X-Wing while Yoda was training him, and then I saw you fling this transport around like a deck of cards. That’s saying something.”
“Well, he is his father’s son, now isn’t he? When his father was training, he often did not have the focus for such tasks. I myself sparred with him regularly, when he didn’t want to be embarrassed by Arias.”
“Embarrassed?” Kia felt a bit shocked. She clearly remembered worrying specifically that Darth Vader liked to do some very horrible nasty things to Force Sensitives, if his thugs didn’t kill you first. She new that Arais was good, but to embarrass such a feared figure in armed combat was just a little bit hard to figure.
“Oh, of course. Anakin was quite the swordsman, one of the best I’ve ever seen. Arais on the other hand, is a born warrior.” The older woman gripped her lightsaber in emphasis. “No one had ever bested him in single combat. There have of course been moments when he was at a supreme disadvantage, as we all have been, and been forced to hold our attack, as he did. But in simple terms of ability to kill, he is unmatched. His skill is unnatural.”
“So I’ve seen.” Kia clearly remembered the way he cut down those Stormtroopers without a care.
“Anyway, accept this gem as a gift. Even if you cannot use it in your lightsaber now, perhaps you may be able to in the future. If not, you might keep it as a reminder that while you strain to balance yourself to be able to use it, we Sethi use them without thought. Or you might put it up as collateral for a healthy loan and buy a nice getaway somewhere, I care not. Either way, you will remember the gift.” Miera said quietly. “All that I request from you as part of this friendship is that you keep our secrets safe. You have some firsthand knowledge of us, which others might covet. It is due to this that we desire to remain unknown to you as far as they may know, for our sake and your own.”
Kia nodded respectfully, and cautiously. It would not be the first time she had been bribed. Or threatened. “Thanks, I’ll go put this someplace safe.” She got up and headed for the captain’s quarters. Fortunately, a few smuggling jobs several months back lead her to install a small safe under the floor of her room which would be the perfect place to stash the gem.
“So she actually gave it to you, eh?” Kia looked up as she entered the common room and saw Kal hunched over a small holo-table playing opposite Aasan in a friendly war-game. Aasan looked up when Kal spoke, his head drawing back in surprise when he saw the diamond.
“Yes, she gave it to me, Kal. Why, did you have some reason to suspect she wouldn’t?” Kia found herself still holding the gem, though she had meant to keep it out of sight.
“You look at that gem in your hand and tell me you weren’t shocked to receive it. We Sethi don’t have many of those in our possession. I expected Miera to reserve our crystals for future members of our order, not give them away as gifts.” Kal said absentmindedly as he moved a Rancor towards Aasan’s squad of Ewoks. “Still, she must have her reasons for doing so.”
“She must have very good reasons.” Aasan commented, eyeing the crystalline diamond. “A diamond that size would be enough to buy a Hutt’s silence.”
“A Hutt?” Kal asked.
“They’re big slimy slug creatures that run lots of organized crime rings. Very nasty, very greedy.” The Kel Dor replied.
“Slugs, eh?” Kal chuckled, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He ran a finger along the thin scar on his chest, wincing as he did so. “Well, I hope you don’t waste it on something like that.”
“What do you plan on doing with it, Kia?” Aasan asked politely.
“I’m not quite sure.” She answered, examining the gem in her hand. “I’m really not sure at all.” With that said, the redhead wandered off towards her quarters.
“I’m surprised,” Aasan said to Kal while moving his own Rancor to face the other. “You didn’t make one pass at her this time.”
“Pfft.” Kal muttered, moving around some troops of his own. “It’s not for lack of interest, if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s very easy on the eyes, but this searing pain in my chest is a bit distracting.”
“Distracting, indeed. Your move, Kal.” Aasan activated a pit trap that swallowed up the young man’s holographic rancor.
“Aw, Sithspit.”
Arlee hurriedly righted himself once the hostile organic ceased chewing on his legs. Fortunately there was no permanent damage aside from a few paint scratches.
From Agent Talori’s end of the comm: “Arlee, you need to get back in the air right now. There’s a huge pack of some crazed dogs all over the place!”
“I’ve noticed.” The droid replied simply, as a half dozen of the mangy beasts rushed past the shuttle. “Agent Talori, what is the situation with the Dawnsprinter and her crew?” Arlee enquired as he hurriedly strode up the rising entry ramp.
“It’s complicated,” came Jaess’ reply, “from what I’ve gathered so far the Dawnsprinter is the least important discovery here. It seems the ship’s unusual trek was a freak accident which incidentally destroyed the ship’s hyperdrive.”
“In that case we must abort our mission and report this to our superiors, unless your other findings necessitate our continued presence.” The patina-stained droid took a seat at the ship’s helm and began rapidly composing a report on the mission’s occurrences thus far whilst the engines warmed up.
“I’m pretty sure that finding these Sethi, as they call themselves, is important enough, Arlee.”
“Of course Commander Skywalker will be pleased to learn of their discovery.” Arlee simultaneously recorded the current conversation as well as several extrapolations of possible mission-impacting information. Thank the Code he didn’t have to compensate for an organic’s inability to competently multitask.
“Well, that’s the interesting thing. When I referred to them as Jedi, their leaders seemed rather put off. I’m guessing there’s some tension there that might prove difficult.”
“Naturally, it is to be expected. To a droid, the difference between you organics are minimal at best, yet you consistently take noticeably insult when referred to as a member of a group to which you to not consider yourself to belong to.” Presently the Deepscan rose and began following the imperial assault shuttle and the battered Corellian transport. According to geographical surveys taken by the ship’s sophisticated equipment, their most likely destination would be a small lake several hundred kilometers away from the walled village.
“Minimal? Well, I suppose you are right about that, we do tend to overemphasize our differences. But that doesn’t matter right now. I need you to look up some information that might be in the databases you absconded from the T.R.A.P. I need anything you can find on Jedi named Arias and Miera, I don’t know their surnames.”
“These would be the two organics leading these Sethi, would they not?” Another annotation to Arlee’s report.
“Yeah, they look in their mid-30’s but Jedi have been known to live long lives, depending on how strong their affinity with the Force is. If my guess is right, they’re really powerful.”
“Would you surmise that they are powerful enough to be considered a threat to the Alliance?” An inquiry into the deceptive T.R.A.P.’s stored filed yielded two considerable files. “I believe I have found the information you seek, Agent Talori?”
“Yeah, well spit it out!”
Spit? Organics used the oddest expressions sometimes. “If this information is accurate, they could possibly be two esteemed Jedi Knights, Arias Falm and Miera Panaar. It seems they were taken into the Jedi Order as infants, orphans raised by one Torm Tabano. A subheading indicates an investigation into whether this might be Lord Tabano, possible current head of the Empire. The investigation was halted upon discovery that Torm Tabano was most definitely killed shortly before the outbreak of the Clone Wars.” Arlee relayed the information to Jaess.
“Most definitely?”
“Apparently there was an incident involving the collapse and detonation of a remote Sith Temple on Korriban. The blast is noted as having incinerated vegetation several kilometers from the point of origin.” Impressive.
“Well, that explains why they think he’s not their old Master. What else did you find?”
“They were the youngest Jedi Knights in recorded history, but appear to have gone into hermitage immediately after having been raised. Approximately ten months after their disappearance they returned to the Order and began making remarkable achievements in the destruction of several corrupt regimes within the Republic membership. Interesting. It seems they were never raised to the rank of Jedi Master, yet they were granted control of one of the largest armadas fielded during the Clone Wars, a position for which the title of Master is an unwritten prerequisite.”
“Well there’s some good news! If we can get them on our side, we’ll have an extra edge against the Empire.” Jaess replied cheerfully.
“It is also noted,” Arlee replied with emphasis, “that shortly after securing the Hoth system they were killed in action. No bodies were recovered. Arias is reported as having developed increasingly strained relations with the Jedi Council. Apparently they faked their own deaths for some odd purpose.”
“That’s odd, what would they be running from? They couldn’t have been able to anticipate the Purge, and even if they could, they would have acted to prevent it.” Jaess replied quizzically.
“Agent Talori, recall that these individuals were never raised to the position of Master and were increasingly argumentative with the Jedi Council. Perhaps they held no affections for the Jedi despite being named amongst them.” Thank the Code he was not hampered by Organic forgetfulness, either.
“Hmm, that is a possibility. Is there anything else after that I should keep in mind?”
“Yes, under no circumstances should you allow yourself or the Alliance to come into open conflict with these Sethi.” Arlee instructed.
“Well, of course I won’t start a fight, but why do you suggest this?”
“There is mention of a Republic rout of Seperatist forces shortly before the end of the Clone Wars. A battle was fought in the of the taking of Hoth from the Seperatists, a battle in which no less then five thousand remotely controlled super battle droids were eliminated to the last. Credit for their defeat is given to Arias Falm.” Arlee emphasized ‘eliminated’.
“Wow, I guess he’s pretty good at commanding ground forces, eh?” Jaess chuckled.
“He destroyed them single-handedly.” Arlee stated.
“Oh. Well… That’s…a different thingy.” Jaess stammered.
“So don’t start anything.” The droid instructed.
“Gotcha boss.” The young woman quickly replied.
Arlee nodded to himself before switching off the comm. Boss, he liked the sound of that. Wait. Liked the sound of words? Nodding to himself? The droid immediately ran a self-diagnostic to ensure the integrity of his Code. Being around Organics all day could mess up one’s circuits something awful.
Just as suddenly as the maslith had knocked over and begun chewing upon Arlee, it lost interest in his non-fleshy limbs and bolted towards the battlefield.
Aasan, being only mildly interested in the strange talk of old acquaintances who should be dead showing up at very inopportune times, was the only one near the ships to notice the strange attack. He quickly raised his carbine, aimed the unfriendly end towards the crazed canine that was barreling down on his position, and fired a bolt of energy right past Kia’s ear. This of course drew Kia’s attention most thoroughly. Before the redhead could demand the cause for his sudden discharging of weaponry in close proximity to her face, Kal leapt past her with lightsaber in hand and cut the legs out from under the wounded Maslith that was poised to pounce on her unprotected back with a swing that almost singed her hair. Adrial reflexively followed suit with a slice that took the beast’s head, leaving pile of dead flesh at Kia’s feet.
“Master, I think it’s time we left.” Jorran said anxiously. Kia looked from Kal to Aasan to Adrial, unsure of whether to thank them or start shaking them furiously. She was spared the decision as she realized that the field of bodies was quickly being swarmed over by the revolting creatures. For now they were distracted by the carrion that was the slain Stormtroopers, but she know firsthand that they were just a scouting pack in a big horde of smelly, nasty beasts.
“I think you’re right Kal.” Aasan added, already backing up the Dawnsprinter’s ramp.
“Jaess, have your droid follow us in your shuttle. There are people who need to come with us and we could use the extra space.” Miera told the rebel operative in passing as she and Kal hurried onto the Dawnsprinter. “Go with Arais on the Imperial ship, he’ll have need of you there.”
Jaess was given no time to argue, and quickly followed Arais and Adrial onto the captured assault shuttle. Jorran guarded the ramp until it sealed shut, holding his saber at the ready should any of the masliths turn on them.
“I assume you had the good sense to leave the surviving pilot conscious?” Arais asked her. She nodded, having bound the fellow to his seat rather firmly. “Good, go rouse him and instruct him to have this shuttle follow the Dawnsprinter.” He strode off without further words.
The young rebel rushed towards the cockpit and yanked the gag from the pilot’s mouth.
“Listen to me, you waste of life.” She growled threateningly, pressing a blackened knife underneath his chin. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I need you to pilot this ship, understand?” The poor fellow tried to nod, but the motion drew blood and he gave a muffled ‘uh-huh’. “Good. Get this ship off the ground and follow the Corellian ship. If you even think of trying to warn the other Imperials, I’ll make you wish you had been roasted alive. Do you understand me?” She pushed the knife in a bit harder for emphasis.
The man nodded speechlessly and soon the shuttle was airborne. Jaess wiped the tip of her blade on the pilot’s hat to add a little extra ‘oomph’ to her bluff.
***
Jorran helped Adrial toss the dead copilot out of the ship. Amazingly, several of the beasts leapt up to catch the body in mid-air.
“Disgusting.” Adrial spat.
“Is that necessary? Throwing his body to those creatures, I mean.” Jorran asked the short woman.
“Do you find it unsettling, Jorran?” Arais spoke from behind them, causing him to jump slightly.
“I know we have to get rid of the corpse, but just tossing him out there to be eaten, it doesn’t feel right.” Jorran shrugged.
“If we hadn’t dealt with them, it would be innocent civilians down there serving as fresh carrion, Jorran, not soldiers.” His new teacher said flatly.
“Still, it seems almost barbaric the way we just slaughtered them, and now they’re being eaten.”
“Barbaric?” Arias questioned. “I can point to several corpses down there that can attest to your own handiwork in the matter.”
“I was defending myself.” Jorran said defensively.
“And that’s why you hesitated.” Arais said accusingly. “You hesitated and missed your opportunity to take advantage of their surprise. You might have killed a few of them before they could react, and that could have prevented Kal’s wound. He’ll carry that scar for the rest of his life, and he should be proud of it, but it could have been avoided.”
“Master Arias, I-” Jorran tried to respond but was interrupted.
“You what? You thought to yourself, ‘These are people, just like me.’, so you’d rather not kill them. The fact of the matter is, Jorran,” Arais stepped closer, coming face to face with Jorran. “none of it matters. You must always be ready, and willing to kill whenever it is necessary. If you are not, you hesitate, and your friends are hurt or killed.”
Jorran stiffened, wanting to tell Arais off. He fortunately decided against it. “I understand, master.”
“Good. The essence of battle is killing, and if you are hesitant to do so, you will find yourself amongst the slain. Once you enter battle, your opponent’s life means nothing. Living with the consequences of their demise is far better than them living with the weight of your own.” Arais had one of his lightsabers ignited and the blade held dangerously close to Jorran’s throat before he could blink. “I expect that the next time you are in combat, you will remember that.” Arais said coldly before walking off, lightsaber still lit.
***
“We need to lead them to where we hid the villagers, Kia. Do you recall the way?” Miera asked politely.
“Yeah, I can have us there in one quarter of an hour, easy.” The redhead replied, checking the readout from the chronometer.
“Good, do you have your ship in autopilot, Kia?” Miera enquired.
After a few commands were given, Kia replied, “I am now, why do you ask?”
“I would like to give you something.” Miera produced a flawless spherical white diamond the size of a man’s eye, and dropped it right into Kia’s open hand.
“I. Um… Wow.” Kia held it up to a bright LED and quickly appraised it, having some familiarity with this sort of thing. Perfect. Easily worth enough credits to give the Dawnsprinter a complete overhaul and have enough left over to purchase the average capital-class warship. “Huh. Thanks.”
“I give you this as a sign of friendship, Kia. This gem serves as the focusing crystal of a lightsaber, the kind of which every Sethi carries.” She indicated her own lightsaber. “However, it can only be used by one who is balanced in the Force. Too much hate, or too little, an excess of love, the absence of anger, and it is simply a gem for the one carrying it.”
“I’m really flattered by this, Miera.” Kia said very, very honestly. “But I have no intention of joining your Order.”
“I would be glad if you were to do so, but I am not asking such a decision of you.” Miera replied. “There is a good chance that in the events that are the come, we may not see one another for quite some time. In that event, I would like you to keep this as a reminder of us. Try and focus on it, if you will. Try and make it glow.”
Kia looked at Miera for a moment, slightly suspicious, but she did focus. It was like trying to stand upright on a rolling log whilst covered in frictionless lubricant in the middle of a hurricane. Miera did not look the slightest bit amused when Kia looked startled. Nor did she look not amused, such an odd woman.
“It is quite a shock at first, of course.” Miera commented on Kia’s surprise. “With a little practice, you can begin to use it as an aid for meditation. I don’t suppose you’ve ever meditated, have you?”
“Can’t say that I have.” Kia said, still focused on the gem. Wow. I’m rich. “Well, not lately, anyway. Every now and again I seem to realize what it means to be Force Sensitive and give it a try, but it never goes anywhere. I get all relaxed and spaced out or whatever it is you have to do, but then I get restless and give up.” She held the diamond up to light again. Wow.
“Yes, it can be as such when one is not in regular practice. You may grow to be quite formidable, should you choose to.”
“Coming from you, that’s quite a compliment.” Kia replied. “I heard that Skywalker had trouble moving his X-Wing while Yoda was training him, and then I saw you fling this transport around like a deck of cards. That’s saying something.”
“Well, he is his father’s son, now isn’t he? When his father was training, he often did not have the focus for such tasks. I myself sparred with him regularly, when he didn’t want to be embarrassed by Arias.”
“Embarrassed?” Kia felt a bit shocked. She clearly remembered worrying specifically that Darth Vader liked to do some very horrible nasty things to Force Sensitives, if his thugs didn’t kill you first. She new that Arais was good, but to embarrass such a feared figure in armed combat was just a little bit hard to figure.
“Oh, of course. Anakin was quite the swordsman, one of the best I’ve ever seen. Arais on the other hand, is a born warrior.” The older woman gripped her lightsaber in emphasis. “No one had ever bested him in single combat. There have of course been moments when he was at a supreme disadvantage, as we all have been, and been forced to hold our attack, as he did. But in simple terms of ability to kill, he is unmatched. His skill is unnatural.”
“So I’ve seen.” Kia clearly remembered the way he cut down those Stormtroopers without a care.
“Anyway, accept this gem as a gift. Even if you cannot use it in your lightsaber now, perhaps you may be able to in the future. If not, you might keep it as a reminder that while you strain to balance yourself to be able to use it, we Sethi use them without thought. Or you might put it up as collateral for a healthy loan and buy a nice getaway somewhere, I care not. Either way, you will remember the gift.” Miera said quietly. “All that I request from you as part of this friendship is that you keep our secrets safe. You have some firsthand knowledge of us, which others might covet. It is due to this that we desire to remain unknown to you as far as they may know, for our sake and your own.”
Kia nodded respectfully, and cautiously. It would not be the first time she had been bribed. Or threatened. “Thanks, I’ll go put this someplace safe.” She got up and headed for the captain’s quarters. Fortunately, a few smuggling jobs several months back lead her to install a small safe under the floor of her room which would be the perfect place to stash the gem.
“So she actually gave it to you, eh?” Kia looked up as she entered the common room and saw Kal hunched over a small holo-table playing opposite Aasan in a friendly war-game. Aasan looked up when Kal spoke, his head drawing back in surprise when he saw the diamond.
“Yes, she gave it to me, Kal. Why, did you have some reason to suspect she wouldn’t?” Kia found herself still holding the gem, though she had meant to keep it out of sight.
“You look at that gem in your hand and tell me you weren’t shocked to receive it. We Sethi don’t have many of those in our possession. I expected Miera to reserve our crystals for future members of our order, not give them away as gifts.” Kal said absentmindedly as he moved a Rancor towards Aasan’s squad of Ewoks. “Still, she must have her reasons for doing so.”
“She must have very good reasons.” Aasan commented, eyeing the crystalline diamond. “A diamond that size would be enough to buy a Hutt’s silence.”
“A Hutt?” Kal asked.
“They’re big slimy slug creatures that run lots of organized crime rings. Very nasty, very greedy.” The Kel Dor replied.
“Slugs, eh?” Kal chuckled, and immediately wished he hadn’t. He ran a finger along the thin scar on his chest, wincing as he did so. “Well, I hope you don’t waste it on something like that.”
“What do you plan on doing with it, Kia?” Aasan asked politely.
“I’m not quite sure.” She answered, examining the gem in her hand. “I’m really not sure at all.” With that said, the redhead wandered off towards her quarters.
“I’m surprised,” Aasan said to Kal while moving his own Rancor to face the other. “You didn’t make one pass at her this time.”
“Pfft.” Kal muttered, moving around some troops of his own. “It’s not for lack of interest, if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s very easy on the eyes, but this searing pain in my chest is a bit distracting.”
“Distracting, indeed. Your move, Kal.” Aasan activated a pit trap that swallowed up the young man’s holographic rancor.
“Aw, Sithspit.”
***
Arlee hurriedly righted himself once the hostile organic ceased chewing on his legs. Fortunately there was no permanent damage aside from a few paint scratches.
From Agent Talori’s end of the comm: “Arlee, you need to get back in the air right now. There’s a huge pack of some crazed dogs all over the place!”
“I’ve noticed.” The droid replied simply, as a half dozen of the mangy beasts rushed past the shuttle. “Agent Talori, what is the situation with the Dawnsprinter and her crew?” Arlee enquired as he hurriedly strode up the rising entry ramp.
“It’s complicated,” came Jaess’ reply, “from what I’ve gathered so far the Dawnsprinter is the least important discovery here. It seems the ship’s unusual trek was a freak accident which incidentally destroyed the ship’s hyperdrive.”
“In that case we must abort our mission and report this to our superiors, unless your other findings necessitate our continued presence.” The patina-stained droid took a seat at the ship’s helm and began rapidly composing a report on the mission’s occurrences thus far whilst the engines warmed up.
“I’m pretty sure that finding these Sethi, as they call themselves, is important enough, Arlee.”
“Of course Commander Skywalker will be pleased to learn of their discovery.” Arlee simultaneously recorded the current conversation as well as several extrapolations of possible mission-impacting information. Thank the Code he didn’t have to compensate for an organic’s inability to competently multitask.
“Well, that’s the interesting thing. When I referred to them as Jedi, their leaders seemed rather put off. I’m guessing there’s some tension there that might prove difficult.”
“Naturally, it is to be expected. To a droid, the difference between you organics are minimal at best, yet you consistently take noticeably insult when referred to as a member of a group to which you to not consider yourself to belong to.” Presently the Deepscan rose and began following the imperial assault shuttle and the battered Corellian transport. According to geographical surveys taken by the ship’s sophisticated equipment, their most likely destination would be a small lake several hundred kilometers away from the walled village.
“Minimal? Well, I suppose you are right about that, we do tend to overemphasize our differences. But that doesn’t matter right now. I need you to look up some information that might be in the databases you absconded from the T.R.A.P. I need anything you can find on Jedi named Arias and Miera, I don’t know their surnames.”
“These would be the two organics leading these Sethi, would they not?” Another annotation to Arlee’s report.
“Yeah, they look in their mid-30’s but Jedi have been known to live long lives, depending on how strong their affinity with the Force is. If my guess is right, they’re really powerful.”
“Would you surmise that they are powerful enough to be considered a threat to the Alliance?” An inquiry into the deceptive T.R.A.P.’s stored filed yielded two considerable files. “I believe I have found the information you seek, Agent Talori?”
“Yeah, well spit it out!”
Spit? Organics used the oddest expressions sometimes. “If this information is accurate, they could possibly be two esteemed Jedi Knights, Arias Falm and Miera Panaar. It seems they were taken into the Jedi Order as infants, orphans raised by one Torm Tabano. A subheading indicates an investigation into whether this might be Lord Tabano, possible current head of the Empire. The investigation was halted upon discovery that Torm Tabano was most definitely killed shortly before the outbreak of the Clone Wars.” Arlee relayed the information to Jaess.
“Most definitely?”
“Apparently there was an incident involving the collapse and detonation of a remote Sith Temple on Korriban. The blast is noted as having incinerated vegetation several kilometers from the point of origin.” Impressive.
“Well, that explains why they think he’s not their old Master. What else did you find?”
“They were the youngest Jedi Knights in recorded history, but appear to have gone into hermitage immediately after having been raised. Approximately ten months after their disappearance they returned to the Order and began making remarkable achievements in the destruction of several corrupt regimes within the Republic membership. Interesting. It seems they were never raised to the rank of Jedi Master, yet they were granted control of one of the largest armadas fielded during the Clone Wars, a position for which the title of Master is an unwritten prerequisite.”
“Well there’s some good news! If we can get them on our side, we’ll have an extra edge against the Empire.” Jaess replied cheerfully.
“It is also noted,” Arlee replied with emphasis, “that shortly after securing the Hoth system they were killed in action. No bodies were recovered. Arias is reported as having developed increasingly strained relations with the Jedi Council. Apparently they faked their own deaths for some odd purpose.”
“That’s odd, what would they be running from? They couldn’t have been able to anticipate the Purge, and even if they could, they would have acted to prevent it.” Jaess replied quizzically.
“Agent Talori, recall that these individuals were never raised to the position of Master and were increasingly argumentative with the Jedi Council. Perhaps they held no affections for the Jedi despite being named amongst them.” Thank the Code he was not hampered by Organic forgetfulness, either.
“Hmm, that is a possibility. Is there anything else after that I should keep in mind?”
“Yes, under no circumstances should you allow yourself or the Alliance to come into open conflict with these Sethi.” Arlee instructed.
“Well, of course I won’t start a fight, but why do you suggest this?”
“There is mention of a Republic rout of Seperatist forces shortly before the end of the Clone Wars. A battle was fought in the of the taking of Hoth from the Seperatists, a battle in which no less then five thousand remotely controlled super battle droids were eliminated to the last. Credit for their defeat is given to Arias Falm.” Arlee emphasized ‘eliminated’.
“Wow, I guess he’s pretty good at commanding ground forces, eh?” Jaess chuckled.
“He destroyed them single-handedly.” Arlee stated.
“Oh. Well… That’s…a different thingy.” Jaess stammered.
“So don’t start anything.” The droid instructed.
“Gotcha boss.” The young woman quickly replied.
Arlee nodded to himself before switching off the comm. Boss, he liked the sound of that. Wait. Liked the sound of words? Nodding to himself? The droid immediately ran a self-diagnostic to ensure the integrity of his Code. Being around Organics all day could mess up one’s circuits something awful.
Angcuru
First Post
Ch. 23 - The Foemarch
Those blades…the same as he remembered wielding so easily against those novices.
Calm overcame him. The figure in the shadows stood unmoving, the only sign of his existence being those twin blades, held at the ready to counter Arais’ own.
The would-be Jedi dared not move. Despite his many battles, he had been in few lightsaber duels in his short lifetime. Those fights had been more than enough for him to realize that more often than not the first to move would be the first to die.
How long Arais stood there waiting for the other fighter to make a move, he could not tell.
Sweat began to bead along his brow, trickling slowly, threatening to sting his eyes with the salt.
Slowly…slowly…
“You might as well attack, Arais. You may think you can wait for me to strike first, but I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” An oddly familiar voice spoke.
“How do you know me?” He replied, cautious.
“I don’t, but I know of you. I won’t know you until we’ve crossed blades.” He spoke, but the glowing bronze blades never wavered.
“What? The Echani tradition?” Arais asked. He was sure he had heard that voice before.
“Echani?” came his response, “I know nothing of these Echani.”
“Just as I know nothing of you.” Arias pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sure you know me better than you can imagine.” The man never moved, but a new light came to the area around them, a soft colorless glow with no apparent beginning or end, barely enough to see by. As Arias’ vision adjusted to the light, he saw the vague outline of the stranger’s form, dimly lit now by the light of his blades. He shifted his left blade slightly, trying to work out stiffness in his shoulder-
Arias’ opponent charged his left, sabers poised to split him in half. He met the dual strike with a step back and a similar dual strike, vertical to counter the offense. Blue blades deflected bronze to the side, and Arias responded with a kick to his opponent’s chest accompanied by a series of spinning vertical strikes towards the other’s shoulders.
The stranger dodged to Arais’ right and struck at him with a series of blows meant to sever his neck and knees in the same instant. Arias parried both attacks and landed a knee to the stranger’s face with a leaping attack, coming to rest a full three meters from the foe, blades at the ready.
“Very good, Arias. You have considerable strength, but you can have so much more.” The figure said approvingly, though short of breath. “Perhaps you have a place amongst us after all.”
“I only see one of you, and I am not impressed.” Arais jabbed at his opponent’s pride. “Defend yourself!” He lunged forward with a Force-induced burst of speed, one blade stretched outwards to spear through the sternum, the other held at the ready to counter any attack.
The bronze blades quickly crossed and caught his blue. Arias was prepared for this, and brought his second lightsaber forwards in a quick slashing jab. Much to his surprise, the other fighter simply drew one of the defending blades up further to catch the strike whist holding the first blade in check. The combined light of the four lightsabers illuminated both of their forms. Arais faced a slightly older, more bearded version of himself, the stranger’s features a satisfied grin at the younger man’s shock. As the realization of his opponent sank in, Arias was struck by a strong pulse of force energy which drove him back a good five meters.
“Tsk, tsk. You should have known better than to challenge him, my love.” An alluring, womanly voice chided. “I would be most displeased if I should have to await your return so early.” She stepped into view, a more mature image of Miera in form-fitting robes with an unlit lightsaber dangling from her shapely hip.
“Of course, my dear.” The other Arias let his blades fizzle and calmly took her offered hand.
“Oh, now wait just one moment,” a very puzzled Arias said as he lowered his own weapons, “just what is going on here?”
“Oh, you’ll know in time, though your better half already knows all too well.” The woman said cheerfully. “I’m glad she took our advice and didn’t spoil it for you.”
“Miera? My better half?” Arais almost dropped his blades at their forwardness. That was the most tightly guarded secret in the galaxy, as far as he was concerned. “Who are you that you know these things?”
“Oh, I had hoped for better from you, Arias.” The other man chided. “I’m you! A version of you, of course, but you nonetheless. Tulak Hord, at your service.” He gave a formal bow.
“Vanna Malros.” His companion said with a nod of her head.
“Arias Falm.” Arias felt his introduction awkward and unnecessary, but there was no call for rudeness. “How can there be two of us?”
“Two?” Tulak chuckled, lightly tracing the outline of Vanna’s figure with one finger. “If there are multiple variations on the same individual, why should it be limited to two? For simplicity’s sake? The universe is not so simple.”
“Two bes good, but three bes better.” Another voice added as an enormously muscled, heavily tanned Arais carrying a stone-tipped spear and sporting a hide loincloth stepped out of the mist.
“Ah, Thog! Glad you could make it.” Tulak cheered, clasping hands with the newcomer.
“Thog bes warrior!” The dark man intoned, thrusting his spear in the air. “Warrior bes much shamed to be missing such chance for them battles.”
“Thog?” Arias said skeptically. “Oh come on, that’s just too stereotypical.”
“I bes strong warrior, quick hunter. I bes fathering many younglings to carry mine name.” Thog said proudly. “I bes glad mine namer goes livering on into them ages.”
“Thog’s name bes livering cause Giya bes raisered his younglings.” Yet another female voice added with emphasis. A darkened Miera hurried forward from the mist to latch onto Thog’s formidable forearm. It looked comically like a small flower trying to encircle to young tree trunk. Arias couldn’t not notice that she was clad similary to Thog: just a loincloth. She was another Miera, he had no doubt about that.
“This is unbelievable,” Arais said exasperatedly, “I’ve seen through both of your eyes, and I know there to be another pair. Come forward! Let this travesty be finished!”
“Phoebus likes to make a dramatic entrance.” Vanna said as a distant rumble began to sound.
“Ugh, again with the Honor Guard.” Tulak grumbled, massaging his temples. “You would have thought he’d realize it wouldn’t be any use by now.”
“Soldiers bes dying fighting with them Phoebus.” Giya chimed cheerfully.
“Them bes wantings to bes fighting with him agains.” Thog said as if stating the obvious to a slow child.
“Oh, glorious death!” Tulak said dramatically, waving his hands comically. “A death is a death. Different situation, same result.”
“But you always wanted to die in battle yourself, my dear.” Vanna prodded.
“This is true.” Tulak conceded. “But it had to be poison, didn’t it? Pheh.” He spat scornfully into the mist. “It had to be slow and painless, didn’t it? No excruciating pain or exciting circumstances. No ‘Oh what the hell my guts are missing, awesome!’ moment, just POOF dead.”
Any further comments were drawn out as the distant rumbling became a loud, steady march, and a large group of bronze-clad, spear-wielding soldiers same into view. At their head was a grizzled, scarred, and very brutal-looking Arias, next to whom walked an expectant Miera in a simple cloth robe.
As the two of them approached, Phoebus raised a fist, and the several hundred soldiers following him came to an immediate halt. His hard eyes scanned Thog, Tulak, and finally Arais, purposefully avoiding the women. “I do not perceive your newest incarnation, Cassandra.”
The woman at his side rapped his helmet with a closed fist. “That’s because she was already here, husband.”
“Still, a Mandalorian woman would have returned to view her man’s trials.” Phoebus spat from a vertical slit in his helm.
“You.” Arais pointed at Phoebus. “I felt you die. I experienced it.”
“And you still live? Oh isn’t this something, men? A living dead man!” Phoebus chortled, his laugh mirrored by the men at this back.
Within a split second, Arais cleaved his shield and spear in twain and had purposefully drawn only a single, shallow cut in the small space between his eyebrows. Phoebus whistled in admiration as Arias returned to his previous standing position just as the halves of shield and spear hit the floor. “That’s some fancy blade work, young one.”
“So I’m not dead then, am I?” Arias jabbed verbally.
“Apparenly so.” Cassandra replied as a soldier passed Phoebus a replacement spear and shield. “But you may be soon. The Foemarch approaches.”
“Foemarch?” Arias asked. “What do you mean I may be dead soon?”
“Enemies be rising from them graves each turning of them seasons.” Giya said seriously.
“Every year for as long as any of us care to remember, we have been charged with battling all of our collectively slain enemies.” Vanna added.
“And every year, we’ve been prepared and well rested for the Foemarch.” Cassandra said.
“But for them four by four yearsies,” Thog said darkly, “them enemies bes come strongers each turnings of them seasons.”
“That is how we knew you were coming, Arais.” Tulak supplied. “Every time another incarnation of our spirit lives and dies, that life strengthens the Foemarch and then comes to counter it in death. But this time, with your coming, the Foemarch is too strong for us.”
“Each year, it pushes us stronger, harder, more aggressively.” Phoebus growled. “A glorious fight, every time. Yet, in time we may be overwhelmed.”
“And if you were overwhelmed, what would happen then?” Arais inquired.
“The Foemarch would spill over into the mortal realm.” Vanna said darkly, sadly. “The spirits we ward off would infect the living, and genocidal chaos on a galactic scale would commence.”
“All that any of us had ever known would become as dust and ashes cast to a strong wind.” Tulak spat scornfully and stuck a finger at Arias. “Everything that you know will cease to be.”
“But you say you only fight the Foemarch one you have died. I’m not dead, I’m still alive!” Arais breathed heavily.
“You bes not deaded, yet you bes here.” Thog observed. “But this bes not them problems.”
“You bes comings here too earlies.” Giya added from Thog’s side.
“She’s right, of course. Your birth has come several thousand years too early.” Phoebus pointed out.
“Are you telling me that my birth was scheduled? that I was prematurely conceived?!” Arais ground his teeth.
“It is only naturally to be expected, Arias,” Vanna said, running a finger softly under his chin. “that an individual spirit, our in our case, pair of spirits, be reborn every ten millennia or so. We know not why, but you have been reborn too early, and now you have come here to our world of the dead as part of some silly initiation. The Foemarch comes on your heels.”
“Tell us, Arais.” Tulak said inquisitively, “Do you know the circumstances of your birth?”
“I...” Arais fell silent, “I... do not. I know only that I was adopted as an infant.”
“I suggest that if you survive, you search for the answer.” Cassandra said conclusively as another distant rumble began.
Those blades…the same as he remembered wielding so easily against those novices.
Calm overcame him. The figure in the shadows stood unmoving, the only sign of his existence being those twin blades, held at the ready to counter Arais’ own.
The would-be Jedi dared not move. Despite his many battles, he had been in few lightsaber duels in his short lifetime. Those fights had been more than enough for him to realize that more often than not the first to move would be the first to die.
How long Arais stood there waiting for the other fighter to make a move, he could not tell.
Sweat began to bead along his brow, trickling slowly, threatening to sting his eyes with the salt.
Slowly…slowly…
“You might as well attack, Arais. You may think you can wait for me to strike first, but I’ve been waiting a long time for this.” An oddly familiar voice spoke.
“How do you know me?” He replied, cautious.
“I don’t, but I know of you. I won’t know you until we’ve crossed blades.” He spoke, but the glowing bronze blades never wavered.
“What? The Echani tradition?” Arais asked. He was sure he had heard that voice before.
“Echani?” came his response, “I know nothing of these Echani.”
“Just as I know nothing of you.” Arias pointed out.
“Oh, I’m sure you know me better than you can imagine.” The man never moved, but a new light came to the area around them, a soft colorless glow with no apparent beginning or end, barely enough to see by. As Arias’ vision adjusted to the light, he saw the vague outline of the stranger’s form, dimly lit now by the light of his blades. He shifted his left blade slightly, trying to work out stiffness in his shoulder-
Arias’ opponent charged his left, sabers poised to split him in half. He met the dual strike with a step back and a similar dual strike, vertical to counter the offense. Blue blades deflected bronze to the side, and Arias responded with a kick to his opponent’s chest accompanied by a series of spinning vertical strikes towards the other’s shoulders.
The stranger dodged to Arais’ right and struck at him with a series of blows meant to sever his neck and knees in the same instant. Arias parried both attacks and landed a knee to the stranger’s face with a leaping attack, coming to rest a full three meters from the foe, blades at the ready.
“Very good, Arias. You have considerable strength, but you can have so much more.” The figure said approvingly, though short of breath. “Perhaps you have a place amongst us after all.”
“I only see one of you, and I am not impressed.” Arais jabbed at his opponent’s pride. “Defend yourself!” He lunged forward with a Force-induced burst of speed, one blade stretched outwards to spear through the sternum, the other held at the ready to counter any attack.
The bronze blades quickly crossed and caught his blue. Arias was prepared for this, and brought his second lightsaber forwards in a quick slashing jab. Much to his surprise, the other fighter simply drew one of the defending blades up further to catch the strike whist holding the first blade in check. The combined light of the four lightsabers illuminated both of their forms. Arais faced a slightly older, more bearded version of himself, the stranger’s features a satisfied grin at the younger man’s shock. As the realization of his opponent sank in, Arias was struck by a strong pulse of force energy which drove him back a good five meters.
“Tsk, tsk. You should have known better than to challenge him, my love.” An alluring, womanly voice chided. “I would be most displeased if I should have to await your return so early.” She stepped into view, a more mature image of Miera in form-fitting robes with an unlit lightsaber dangling from her shapely hip.
“Of course, my dear.” The other Arias let his blades fizzle and calmly took her offered hand.
“Oh, now wait just one moment,” a very puzzled Arias said as he lowered his own weapons, “just what is going on here?”
“Oh, you’ll know in time, though your better half already knows all too well.” The woman said cheerfully. “I’m glad she took our advice and didn’t spoil it for you.”
“Miera? My better half?” Arais almost dropped his blades at their forwardness. That was the most tightly guarded secret in the galaxy, as far as he was concerned. “Who are you that you know these things?”
“Oh, I had hoped for better from you, Arias.” The other man chided. “I’m you! A version of you, of course, but you nonetheless. Tulak Hord, at your service.” He gave a formal bow.
“Vanna Malros.” His companion said with a nod of her head.
“Arias Falm.” Arias felt his introduction awkward and unnecessary, but there was no call for rudeness. “How can there be two of us?”
“Two?” Tulak chuckled, lightly tracing the outline of Vanna’s figure with one finger. “If there are multiple variations on the same individual, why should it be limited to two? For simplicity’s sake? The universe is not so simple.”
“Two bes good, but three bes better.” Another voice added as an enormously muscled, heavily tanned Arais carrying a stone-tipped spear and sporting a hide loincloth stepped out of the mist.
“Ah, Thog! Glad you could make it.” Tulak cheered, clasping hands with the newcomer.
“Thog bes warrior!” The dark man intoned, thrusting his spear in the air. “Warrior bes much shamed to be missing such chance for them battles.”
“Thog?” Arias said skeptically. “Oh come on, that’s just too stereotypical.”
“I bes strong warrior, quick hunter. I bes fathering many younglings to carry mine name.” Thog said proudly. “I bes glad mine namer goes livering on into them ages.”
“Thog’s name bes livering cause Giya bes raisered his younglings.” Yet another female voice added with emphasis. A darkened Miera hurried forward from the mist to latch onto Thog’s formidable forearm. It looked comically like a small flower trying to encircle to young tree trunk. Arias couldn’t not notice that she was clad similary to Thog: just a loincloth. She was another Miera, he had no doubt about that.
“This is unbelievable,” Arais said exasperatedly, “I’ve seen through both of your eyes, and I know there to be another pair. Come forward! Let this travesty be finished!”
“Phoebus likes to make a dramatic entrance.” Vanna said as a distant rumble began to sound.
“Ugh, again with the Honor Guard.” Tulak grumbled, massaging his temples. “You would have thought he’d realize it wouldn’t be any use by now.”
“Soldiers bes dying fighting with them Phoebus.” Giya chimed cheerfully.
“Them bes wantings to bes fighting with him agains.” Thog said as if stating the obvious to a slow child.
“Oh, glorious death!” Tulak said dramatically, waving his hands comically. “A death is a death. Different situation, same result.”
“But you always wanted to die in battle yourself, my dear.” Vanna prodded.
“This is true.” Tulak conceded. “But it had to be poison, didn’t it? Pheh.” He spat scornfully into the mist. “It had to be slow and painless, didn’t it? No excruciating pain or exciting circumstances. No ‘Oh what the hell my guts are missing, awesome!’ moment, just POOF dead.”
Any further comments were drawn out as the distant rumbling became a loud, steady march, and a large group of bronze-clad, spear-wielding soldiers same into view. At their head was a grizzled, scarred, and very brutal-looking Arias, next to whom walked an expectant Miera in a simple cloth robe.
As the two of them approached, Phoebus raised a fist, and the several hundred soldiers following him came to an immediate halt. His hard eyes scanned Thog, Tulak, and finally Arais, purposefully avoiding the women. “I do not perceive your newest incarnation, Cassandra.”
The woman at his side rapped his helmet with a closed fist. “That’s because she was already here, husband.”
“Still, a Mandalorian woman would have returned to view her man’s trials.” Phoebus spat from a vertical slit in his helm.
“You.” Arais pointed at Phoebus. “I felt you die. I experienced it.”
“And you still live? Oh isn’t this something, men? A living dead man!” Phoebus chortled, his laugh mirrored by the men at this back.
Within a split second, Arais cleaved his shield and spear in twain and had purposefully drawn only a single, shallow cut in the small space between his eyebrows. Phoebus whistled in admiration as Arias returned to his previous standing position just as the halves of shield and spear hit the floor. “That’s some fancy blade work, young one.”
“So I’m not dead then, am I?” Arias jabbed verbally.
“Apparenly so.” Cassandra replied as a soldier passed Phoebus a replacement spear and shield. “But you may be soon. The Foemarch approaches.”
“Foemarch?” Arias asked. “What do you mean I may be dead soon?”
“Enemies be rising from them graves each turning of them seasons.” Giya said seriously.
“Every year for as long as any of us care to remember, we have been charged with battling all of our collectively slain enemies.” Vanna added.
“And every year, we’ve been prepared and well rested for the Foemarch.” Cassandra said.
“But for them four by four yearsies,” Thog said darkly, “them enemies bes come strongers each turnings of them seasons.”
“That is how we knew you were coming, Arais.” Tulak supplied. “Every time another incarnation of our spirit lives and dies, that life strengthens the Foemarch and then comes to counter it in death. But this time, with your coming, the Foemarch is too strong for us.”
“Each year, it pushes us stronger, harder, more aggressively.” Phoebus growled. “A glorious fight, every time. Yet, in time we may be overwhelmed.”
“And if you were overwhelmed, what would happen then?” Arais inquired.
“The Foemarch would spill over into the mortal realm.” Vanna said darkly, sadly. “The spirits we ward off would infect the living, and genocidal chaos on a galactic scale would commence.”
“All that any of us had ever known would become as dust and ashes cast to a strong wind.” Tulak spat scornfully and stuck a finger at Arias. “Everything that you know will cease to be.”
“But you say you only fight the Foemarch one you have died. I’m not dead, I’m still alive!” Arais breathed heavily.
“You bes not deaded, yet you bes here.” Thog observed. “But this bes not them problems.”
“You bes comings here too earlies.” Giya added from Thog’s side.
“She’s right, of course. Your birth has come several thousand years too early.” Phoebus pointed out.
“Are you telling me that my birth was scheduled? that I was prematurely conceived?!” Arais ground his teeth.
“It is only naturally to be expected, Arias,” Vanna said, running a finger softly under his chin. “that an individual spirit, our in our case, pair of spirits, be reborn every ten millennia or so. We know not why, but you have been reborn too early, and now you have come here to our world of the dead as part of some silly initiation. The Foemarch comes on your heels.”
“Tell us, Arais.” Tulak said inquisitively, “Do you know the circumstances of your birth?”
“I...” Arais fell silent, “I... do not. I know only that I was adopted as an infant.”
“I suggest that if you survive, you search for the answer.” Cassandra said conclusively as another distant rumble began.
Angcuru
First Post
Ch. 24 - The Foemarch Pt. 2
“Mandalorians!” Phoebus intoned. “Form defensive circle six ranks deep around the women! One-Fifty front rank! Fifty Rear Rank!” The mass of soldiers hurried to comply, swiftly taking formation with Vanna, Cassandra, and Giya safely away from the front line.
The distant rumbling grew steadily louder.
Arais found himself at the center amongst the woman, as were his male counterparts. All had taken on a deadly serious countenance.
“I will command at the start of it,” Phoebus stated. The other men nodded their consent. “The four of us,” he indicated himself, Arais, Tulak, and Thog, and began drawing a series of lines in sand that appeared spontaneously at his feet, “will form foursquare around my men. We must bear the brunt of the assault at those points at all times. After the initial clash of ranks, our four points will cease defense and proceed to assault. The Mandalorians will fill in the gaps our slaughter provides, forming a four-point star. Once the men begin to tire, we return ranks to circular formation and periodically proceed with a similar assault and repeat the process. This will provide maximum defense following our four-man slaughter of the enemy. Those in the front lines will retreat to the rear should they begin to tire, are wounded, or their equipment is sundered. If we keep the circulation going, they should be of maximum value in battle.”
“He always leaves us for last.” Cassandra grumbled. Giya and Vanna nodded their agreement.
“The ladies,” Phoebus said pointedly, “will motivate the men, mend the armor, weapons, and bodies of the men, and when such is not necessary, they will concentratre on bringing ruin to the enemy in our absence whilst we rest. Is this agreed?”
Tulak and Thog nodded, as did the women.
“If the men should all fall, what then?” Arais questioned.
“Then we kill as many as we can, as long as we can, kid.” Tulak cackled, rubbing his lightsabers in anticipation.
“Take positions!” Phoebus commanded, and Arais found himself pushed to the front line, in front of a wall of bronze shields and iron spears. What little of the soldiers that could be seen behind their large shields was encased in thick armor, save for the piercing, murderous eyes full of anticipation for the battle to come.
“They’ll follow the same strategy as always have.” Phoebus called above the din as the mist began to give way to tall, man-shaped figures. “Initial scouting wave, likely a thousand of them or less.”
Arais’ twin lightsabers snapped into life as the shapes took solid form and rushed towards him, great masses of ruined men. Arais soon lost all though of the men behind him and focused on the foes at his front.
The first few who came within his reach were cloven in two as they ran recklessly forward. Flimsy animal hides provided no protection from the solid bars of death he faced them with. The advancing foe wielded no more than simple stone axes and wooden clubs, milling about aimlessly, hoping for a lucky strike. Arias held his strikes, waiting until they were tightly packed about him, close enough for a lightsaber strike yet slightly out of reach of their primitive arms. Each of his blows shorn straight through at least a half dozen men, their corpses dissipating into the mist leaving little evidence of their effort.
Tulak performed similarly, keeping his blades constantly twirling about and surging forward to catch the foe unawares. Poebus stood with his men, the enemy dashed harmlessly off of their shield wall as their many spears skewered the helpless foes. Phoebus, however, fought with a savagery Arais had never before imagined possible from the human form. He held the spear in one hand, each blow skewering two or three men as easily as a needle pierces wool, the other arm sporting a heavy bronze shield with which he bludgeoned many an enemy to death. The Mandalorians held the line, the foremost men keeping their shields at the fore to counter the enemy’s assault whilst their comrades thrust their impressive spears into the bodies of the opposition.
The women fared impressively as well. Any time a Mandalorian took a heavy wound, he immediately fell back towards the center, a fresh soldier taking his place. The healing visited upon them was nothing short of miraculous. Ruined limbs were made anew; horrible gashes mended as if simple playground accidents. When they were not tending to the wounded, Cassandra preferred to scorch the foe with bursts of mystic lightning, whilst Giya preferred unseen strikes of pure force energy which snapped men’s necks like twigs and Vanna sent random men high into the air to crash into the earthbound ranks of enemies.
Soon the advancing waves dissipated, until individual men clashed against the Mandalorian wall and met their doom regardless. Arais felt calm come over him, as he did following any major battle. The calm faded into a horrid surprise as he opened his eyes and saw the carnage that lay before him.
The bodies of all those he had slain in this one clash lay before him. The faceless soldiers now had names, histories, wives, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, enemies, and lovers. He knew them all as intimately as any can know another.. Every moment of every life. Each day of bitter pure life and night of joyous sexual existence. These Arias had felt through the men he had slain, he felt as he had been that very man, each of them whose lives he had ended. It passed with blinding speed, beyond his compression yet somehow beyond time. With each face, each life, each grief, each moment of pure love, until the horrid morass of memories ended and he was left with the memories of his own life once again. He was Arias once more.
The scrawny yet imposing teenage boy knelt upon all limbs as a child upon the formless mist, vomiting up what little he had consumed that day.
“That bad, eh?” Tulak said, helping Arais to his feet.
“Arais needs be cleanings him mouthers.
“And drinkings them wines to cover them tastes!” Giya coughed at an unpleasant smell of regurgitation, offering a skin of drink which formed from mist into her hand, which was immediately passed to Arias. He accepted the drink the instant it was within his reach, gulping the contents without heed to form or substance.
“Just what be you giverings him, Giya?” Thog said curiously, leaning on his spear and breathing heavily. “I bes not sure he bes accustomed to them drinksies.”
“Well, while we have always been heavy drinkers, we’ve always had that first night of terrible, unmentionable doom.” Phoebus offered, immediately clutching his belly in a horrid, comical manner.
“Does Doom have a latrine on call?” Tulak asked, as a terrible squelching noise came from Arais’ direction.
“Mandalorians!” Phoebus intoned. “Form defensive circle six ranks deep around the women! One-Fifty front rank! Fifty Rear Rank!” The mass of soldiers hurried to comply, swiftly taking formation with Vanna, Cassandra, and Giya safely away from the front line.
The distant rumbling grew steadily louder.
Arais found himself at the center amongst the woman, as were his male counterparts. All had taken on a deadly serious countenance.
“I will command at the start of it,” Phoebus stated. The other men nodded their consent. “The four of us,” he indicated himself, Arais, Tulak, and Thog, and began drawing a series of lines in sand that appeared spontaneously at his feet, “will form foursquare around my men. We must bear the brunt of the assault at those points at all times. After the initial clash of ranks, our four points will cease defense and proceed to assault. The Mandalorians will fill in the gaps our slaughter provides, forming a four-point star. Once the men begin to tire, we return ranks to circular formation and periodically proceed with a similar assault and repeat the process. This will provide maximum defense following our four-man slaughter of the enemy. Those in the front lines will retreat to the rear should they begin to tire, are wounded, or their equipment is sundered. If we keep the circulation going, they should be of maximum value in battle.”
“He always leaves us for last.” Cassandra grumbled. Giya and Vanna nodded their agreement.
“The ladies,” Phoebus said pointedly, “will motivate the men, mend the armor, weapons, and bodies of the men, and when such is not necessary, they will concentratre on bringing ruin to the enemy in our absence whilst we rest. Is this agreed?”
Tulak and Thog nodded, as did the women.
“If the men should all fall, what then?” Arais questioned.
“Then we kill as many as we can, as long as we can, kid.” Tulak cackled, rubbing his lightsabers in anticipation.
“Take positions!” Phoebus commanded, and Arais found himself pushed to the front line, in front of a wall of bronze shields and iron spears. What little of the soldiers that could be seen behind their large shields was encased in thick armor, save for the piercing, murderous eyes full of anticipation for the battle to come.
“They’ll follow the same strategy as always have.” Phoebus called above the din as the mist began to give way to tall, man-shaped figures. “Initial scouting wave, likely a thousand of them or less.”
Arais’ twin lightsabers snapped into life as the shapes took solid form and rushed towards him, great masses of ruined men. Arais soon lost all though of the men behind him and focused on the foes at his front.
The first few who came within his reach were cloven in two as they ran recklessly forward. Flimsy animal hides provided no protection from the solid bars of death he faced them with. The advancing foe wielded no more than simple stone axes and wooden clubs, milling about aimlessly, hoping for a lucky strike. Arias held his strikes, waiting until they were tightly packed about him, close enough for a lightsaber strike yet slightly out of reach of their primitive arms. Each of his blows shorn straight through at least a half dozen men, their corpses dissipating into the mist leaving little evidence of their effort.
Tulak performed similarly, keeping his blades constantly twirling about and surging forward to catch the foe unawares. Poebus stood with his men, the enemy dashed harmlessly off of their shield wall as their many spears skewered the helpless foes. Phoebus, however, fought with a savagery Arais had never before imagined possible from the human form. He held the spear in one hand, each blow skewering two or three men as easily as a needle pierces wool, the other arm sporting a heavy bronze shield with which he bludgeoned many an enemy to death. The Mandalorians held the line, the foremost men keeping their shields at the fore to counter the enemy’s assault whilst their comrades thrust their impressive spears into the bodies of the opposition.
The women fared impressively as well. Any time a Mandalorian took a heavy wound, he immediately fell back towards the center, a fresh soldier taking his place. The healing visited upon them was nothing short of miraculous. Ruined limbs were made anew; horrible gashes mended as if simple playground accidents. When they were not tending to the wounded, Cassandra preferred to scorch the foe with bursts of mystic lightning, whilst Giya preferred unseen strikes of pure force energy which snapped men’s necks like twigs and Vanna sent random men high into the air to crash into the earthbound ranks of enemies.
Soon the advancing waves dissipated, until individual men clashed against the Mandalorian wall and met their doom regardless. Arais felt calm come over him, as he did following any major battle. The calm faded into a horrid surprise as he opened his eyes and saw the carnage that lay before him.
The bodies of all those he had slain in this one clash lay before him. The faceless soldiers now had names, histories, wives, sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends, enemies, and lovers. He knew them all as intimately as any can know another.. Every moment of every life. Each day of bitter pure life and night of joyous sexual existence. These Arias had felt through the men he had slain, he felt as he had been that very man, each of them whose lives he had ended. It passed with blinding speed, beyond his compression yet somehow beyond time. With each face, each life, each grief, each moment of pure love, until the horrid morass of memories ended and he was left with the memories of his own life once again. He was Arias once more.
The scrawny yet imposing teenage boy knelt upon all limbs as a child upon the formless mist, vomiting up what little he had consumed that day.
“That bad, eh?” Tulak said, helping Arais to his feet.
“Arais needs be cleanings him mouthers.
“And drinkings them wines to cover them tastes!” Giya coughed at an unpleasant smell of regurgitation, offering a skin of drink which formed from mist into her hand, which was immediately passed to Arias. He accepted the drink the instant it was within his reach, gulping the contents without heed to form or substance.
“Just what be you giverings him, Giya?” Thog said curiously, leaning on his spear and breathing heavily. “I bes not sure he bes accustomed to them drinksies.”
“Well, while we have always been heavy drinkers, we’ve always had that first night of terrible, unmentionable doom.” Phoebus offered, immediately clutching his belly in a horrid, comical manner.
“Does Doom have a latrine on call?” Tulak asked, as a terrible squelching noise came from Arais’ direction.
