|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Feb 17, 2011 4:19:56 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Feb 17, 2011 4:19:56 GMT -5
Conquest was always a messy business. Zarene Yin could still remember the day that the Sith had taken Yaga Minor. She had been part of that great battle herself, contributed her share. But just because the Republic military had been driven off the planet didn't mean that the Sith's hold was secure. If only it were that simple.
No sooner had that battle ended, a number of resistance groups took form, hounding the Sith forces, striking at convoys and supply depots, before disappearing into the villages and forests. Many of these groups had since been systematically wiped out since then, but one of the largest was still active, elusive and dangerous. The Sith would not be able to consider the planet theirs until they were gone.
They were close. They Sith had narrowed the location of their main base down to one particular forest. The catch? That forest was vast, covering several thousand square miles, and aerial sensor scans were proving ineffective. The high command was already discussing the possibility of simply razing the entire place.
But Zarene didn't want it to come to that. If she could find the main base and kill the resistance fighters there, the files and information she could obtain there could then be used to find each of the other cells and exterminate them quickly and systematically.
She had spent the last few days in one of the smaller villages at the outskirts of the forest. It was a small place, about forty percent of the population being the human, the rest the native Yagai. Those bug-eyed aliens still creeped her out. How exactly could they walk with three legs. Even after seeing them do it it still looked bizarre. And yet the yagai were known throughout the galaxy as talented starship mechanics and engineers. It would be important to make them recognize the authority of the Order.
But what made this particular plain-looking village important was that it was known that resistance members often passed through to resupply. Here was the best place for her to find them, or rather, for them to find her.
A fake Sith military ID left unattended for just a few minutes too long, some subtle questions asked around town that just weren't subtle enough, a datapad of encrypted information left out in the open for them to see. One small mistake piled onto another...
Now she was in the forest, searching, making her way through the trees, the crackle of dried leaves being crushed underfoot marking each one of her steps. The flutter of bird's wings could be heard, as well as the occasional chirping. A small rodent-like creature scampered across the forest floor, say her and paused, before quickly disappearing up a tree.
She came to a clearing and stopped. All was silent.
The layout of the terrain, the positions of the trees and bushes,... it was the perfect place for an ambush. She hoped there was one.
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Feb 21, 2011 1:16:25 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Feb 21, 2011 1:16:25 GMT -5
Tamana "Mox" Polommox was not your typical 'civilian'.
The Ayrou was a woman in a man's world. She had ashy white skin, vibrant green eyes, and a head full of brilliant iridescent feathers in all shades of purple, black, and green. And yet, something about the sharp way she moved caused her to resemble a Heron more than a Peacock. She was a bird of prey. It's possible that the same industrial accident that scarred her vocal cords, rendering her species' blood-curdling warble a gruff husk, had also damaged her brain.
So, when the holonews reports stated that 'All civilians have been evacuated', they really weren't far from the truth.
Because, since we're talking technicalities, the three dozen other industrial workers that Mox had gathered together weren't really your typical civilians either.
They were all a little... off-kilter. And they were all royally pissed about losing their jobs.
It was a dangerous combination.
They buzzed and intermingled like bees in a hive, crawling around a bunker which had been carved out of the ground for safety purposes in case a particular factory fulfilled its explosive potential. As it turned out, it had. On purpose. But that's the story of the Battle of Yaga Minor, a story Mox was more interested in writing the epilogue of than reading.
Like mold hiding in the darkest, sweetest crevice, they sat, and waited, and grew. The bunker was hot with the glow of an arc welder, churning out makeshift weapons and machines and shields.
Mox knew the Sith were coming. Eventually. She kept an ear turned towards the surface, and one by one, the other such resistance groups were being snuffed out.
And maybe hers would be too. All she really cared about was causing trouble for the Sith. Mox really didn't even care for the Republic, actually. But now she had a vendetta.
It felt rather empty in the bunker, as Mox made her rounds. And there was a very, very good reason why.
--++--||--++--
The trees have eyes... Butch thought. He giggled in his mind. 'Butch' was a nick-name short for 'Butcher', another nickname, well earned by years of picking apart any of the rodents who happened to be unfortunate enough to find themselves anywhere near his quarters.
For the past ten years, he had screwed bolts onto metal crates.
Every day, he had screwed bolts onto metal crates.
Then, one day, all the metal crates were exploded in a fireworks of twisted debris. He wanted to giggle again.
Had there been a registered Psychologist in Block C-80, Factory S9, Labor Division 13, they would have diagnosed Butch with antisocial personality disorder. But there was no such person, and no such label, and just Butch, waiting in the forest, eyes sucking in the light like black holes, biting his tongue to keep from giggling.
The little woman with the metal arm had stopped in the clearing.
Ready, Set, Go!
He leapt from behind the bush, heaving the heavy rope net, weighted at the corners with large rocks, towards the little woman.
At the same time, a three more nets, each hefted by three men, did the same. Butch, with his six-feet eight inches and yard-wide girth and muscles bulging from years lifting the heavy metal crates he screwed the bolts into, got his own net. And, all in the same moment, half-dozen stun-blasters were trained with all the precision of a well-oiled machine (and Butch should know, because he screwed bolts into the metal crates that held them every day) towards her chest.
Now he could giggle.
"Surrender or Die, Betch," Mickey, a Torine, said.
Butch liked Mickey.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Feb 24, 2011 16:32:05 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Feb 24, 2011 16:32:05 GMT -5
"It's about time." The Firrerreo looked out at the rolling plains that stretched on beneath them. A city squatted at the top of a large rise a ways off in one direction; a huge forest ended the plains a ways of in the other. Nieraan stood at the open side of the drop ship, wind tousling his hair and sash, and arm up to grasp one of the holds above him as he took it all in eagerly. Of course, he didn't care for the plains, or the city, or the forest. He didn't care for the view, didn't care for the planet, though he supposed it was a decent enough change from Korriban's unending dust and heat.
No, no, the young man's spirits where high because he was finally out of that dusty old Temple again, away from the Lords and all their 'do as I command' nonsense. Force only knew that was reason enough to be in a good mood.
But even better than that, he was out on a mission. A real mission, unlike some of the other things he'd been sent to do, like kidnapping children with Kajir. Kajir isn't here either. His canines glinted in the sunlight as he grinned to himself. Day just keeps getting better and better.
Word was that there was some scattered resistance left after the recent conquest of Yaga Minor. Nieraan hadn't taken place in the battle himself--it'd happened before he joined the Order--but he had been selected as part of the team that was to see to putting down the resistance.
Truth be told, he didn't even really care about the great overarching reason for the mission. Understood that the Sith wanted their hold on Yaga Minor to be secure, sure. But did he care? Hardly. He'd never cared much at all about the machinations of the Sith and their war with the Republic, even though he'd accepted having to deal with them, what with being in the Sith Order.
The crux of Nieraan's good mood rested on the fact that, soon, he'd be called in to lay waste to the insurgents as his heart saw fit. That was the mission, after all. He and another Sith, along with some backup, would go in once they got the signal from Yin's homing beacon. And then they'd do some damage. Oh, and get Zarene out, too. Nieraan couldn't forget about that. He was just happy to have a chance to stretch his legs in a fight again. It felt like it'd been an eternity since he'd had the chance. Hope those rebels make it fun. Would be a shame to just plow through 'em all without a challenge. Not that he wouldn't mind that.
The drop ships started to bank to the right, as they leveled out from their descent. They'd run along the edge of the forest. Yin was in there, somewhere. All they'd have to do was wait. Too much waiting...
"When're we supposed to get the damn signal?" One of the troops with them spoke. Young, looked to be human, and was sitting in the back of the drop ship. The right side of his face was scarred to hell and back, though. Nieraan had the creeping feeling his right eye, sunken in as it was among all that damaged flesh, was prosthetic.
"Any minute now," answered another. This man was older. His brown hair was clipped short and had the faintest frosting of grey around his temples. He was a sergeant major. Yarin, his last name was. "Keep your head on, kid. Runnin' in all stupid's what got you messed up last time you were here."
The young one snorted. "Just got some bug people to get back at is all." The blaster carbine in his lap clicked as he toyed with it. "Got a bit a' revenge waitin' for 'em."
Nieraan shook his head and chuckled softly. At least one of the men with him was acting as eager to get to the killing as he felt.
Any minute now...
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Feb 25, 2011 17:21:48 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Feb 25, 2011 17:21:48 GMT -5
"I could remove your arm, place it near the base by the joint." Sebban rummaged through the cabinet, before pulling out a small metallic disk. The old Chiss adjusted the controls of his hover chair, floating himself up to Zarene's eye level.
Zarene shook her head. "Any other options? If I was in their shoes, first thing I'd do is removed the arm."
"Hmmm, I suppose that's true. Let me think..." Sebban replied, tilting his head and scratching the fringe of white hair over his ears. "Only other way I can think of right now without using a scalpel would be ingestion. That could be... uncomfortable."
"Fine. Let's do it."
The hoverchair lowered back down, as his hand reached back into the cabinet before pulling out anther metal disc, slightly smaller. "Take this in the morning with a glass of water. Once on, it'll pulse for a few seconds every fifteen minutes. So if,... when, they decide to scan you chances are better than not that it'll be off and they won't notice it. Downside is of course if they take you somewhere where the signal can't get through, your buddies will only be able to track you from your last known location, which can up to fifteen minutes away."
Zarene nodded. "That'll do."
"Hmm... good. I'll install this other little device in your arm. Interfaces with the beacon. Either activate it yourself when you run into trouble, or if your arm is separated from your body, then your friends will know something's up. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Good. Now, let's see about the other stuff... Uniform, new identification, standard issue weaponry, some datapads with encrypted data to up the intrigue..."
--------------------------------
She felt a tingling sensation at the back of her neck, and she spun and flipped to the ground, catching herself with one hand, just as a dozen stun bolts streaked through the air where her chest had been.
Zarene reached for her blaster, but only at time to fire off a single shot before the nets came down around her. Grabbing the ropes with her metal hand, she was going to rip them apart, but another layer nets fell, and another. And with her ability to move hampered, the next volley of stun bolts would find their mark.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Feb 25, 2011 20:15:37 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Feb 25, 2011 20:15:37 GMT -5
Smack!
The Sith soldier hit the ground with a hard thud, the confusion in his eyes was clear. He was young but but not entirely without experience. Yet still he wondered how he had suddenly ended up on the ground. He hadn't even been put there by a commanding officer, well not from the normal chain of command. No he had been sent to the ground by a pretty Echani girl who looked about as old as he did. His first instinct was to fight back, but something warned him not to, and that something saved his life.
Gabriella was in a very foul mood this day, and that usually meant someone would soon be in a great deal of pain. She paced across the command deck of the Taipan, attempting to work out her frustration. It was safe to say that it wasn't working that well. The command crew had pretty much gotten used to her temper by now, unlike the first time when they had all stopped to see the first officer she struck. A rather smoldering glare from her was more than enough to send them back to work.
The young ensign had just reported that the signal beacon had not been activated yet, and that did not please her.
Damn cyborg probably got distracted by some girl
In truth, Gabriella's frustration came from the fact that she was worried about her erstwhile partner. The Echani may not have been aware of that fact, but it didn't make it any less true. There was also the fact that she was stuck here, on this damned ship while Zarene and Nieraan were out there having all the fun. Instead she was here on the bridge, with the might of an Sith assault carrier behind her.
"Now who thought that was a good idea?" she asked no one in particular
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Mar 7, 2011 0:15:54 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Mar 7, 2011 0:15:54 GMT -5
Mox looked down her long, white nose at the girl. Just a child. Mox was not touched with some moving compassion that the war had brought such young, tender hearts into its corruping coils -- she was plainly insulted.
"What is causing the delay?" she rasped, flicker her eyes at Nickel.
He had a spanner and several screw drivers, and was applying them to the prisoner's robotic arm.
"Doin' my job right's what's causing the delay," he said sharply. He continued under his breath. "At the factory, too! A'ways teh same. 'Wh'as takin' s' long?' So I a'hurry up, b'then i's, 'Why in'it this dun? Why in'it that done?' A'ways a rush, a'ways a standard, is a mathematical impossibility, i' is. Why,"
Mox promptly ignored the man's continuing soliloquy.
At the suggestion of Tensen, a man who she couldn't remember ever having actually worked at the factory, they had belted the girl tightly to a chair, wrists, upper arm, criss-cross at the shoulders, above the waist, below the waist, knees, ankles. Tensen was convinced, for some reason, that the girl was a force practitioner, though it made a great deal of sense to Mox, and she always had a habit of preparing for the worst possible scenario.
The room had once been a storage room, but it had been stripped bare and re-purposed into a torture interrogation room. Which simply meant that the chair had been bolted into the ground, and an assortment of odd devices were piled in the corner.
Currently the place was crowded, being occupied by Mox herself, Tensen, Mickey, Nickel, and Butch, who was currently eyeing the assortment of odd devices with a sort of glee that made even Mox shiver.
"She's stirring," Tensen said. Mox had seen no movement, but as she looked to check Tensen's statement, the girl did indeed shift. Tensen was very strange, but Mox found normal people to be utterly useless. So things worked out well.
Mox took a breath to speak, but Nickel anticipated her question. "Jus' one more mom'nt, y' said y' wanted 't in one piece as to see if 't could 'n be used f'r Nape's missin' arm, and I said, wh' yes'm, I c'd get it off'n one piece, so you's just gonna haf't be patient, a'cuz that's how these'n things work..."
The girl seemed to be regaining consciousness. Mox looked down her long, white nose again.
"If you would like to live," she started, voice like sandpaper on wood, "You will answer all I ask, and if you would like to die, you will answer all I ask, and if you are apathetic either way, you will answer all I ask."
Mox stood with her hands behind her back, her feet shoulder-width apart, her knees straight, and her chin tilted upwards so that she looked upon everything down her long, superior, ash-colored nose. Tight lips were pressed tightly together, and even without moving said that Mox fancied herself like a mighty dictator. Endless rows and columns of uniform soldiers marched through her eyes.
"First. Why did you find it prudent to walk alone into a wood when your people have no other business here?"
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Mar 8, 2011 17:52:13 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Mar 8, 2011 17:52:13 GMT -5
"My orders to you are on this datapad, Captain. They must be followed to the letter." Zarene slid the datapad across the table, which the Captian then picked up and switched. "Remember, when I activate the signal, you are not to take action immediately."
The Captain nodded. "Either if the signal disappears, or it stays in the same location for ten consecutive cycles. Understood."
Zarene stood up from her seat, walked slowly towards the starship viewport, sharing out into the blackness of space. "The strike needs to happen after I am inside their main base for it to work," she said softly. "I can't predict everything that they might do, but these steps should help ensure that the cavalry's arrival is not... premature. Now, is my shuttle prepared? I am ready to depart."
--------------------------------------------
Where was she? Her torso still felt numb from where the stun bolts had struck. She could feel pressure on her arm and legs from the ropes and straps that kept her body tied to the chair. Slowly she opened her eyes, her vision a bit muddled and blurry at first. She squinted, and the world gradually came back into focus.
Her arm was missing, just a stump where metal fused with bone, a few connecting wires hanging loose.. That was to be expected, but it still made her feel uncomfortable. Exposed. Naked. Vulnerable. Was she scared? A little. They had the power to kill her right now, and how she behaved during these next few hours would determine whether she lived or died.
She was in what appeared to be a warehouse, with bare metallic walls, and bits of odd machinery in piles on the floor. Odd, she thought, that the patrols would miss something as obvious as a warehouse in the middle of the forest. Perhaps it was underground, or hidden by other means. The lack of windows made it difficult to tell.
A woman with what appeared to be feathers for hair stood over her. At least Zarene thought it was a woman. With some alien species you never knew. The alien's voice was raspy and uncomfortable to listen to.
She wasn't going to answer truthfully of course, but if she could draw out the conversation, give the continued impression that she just might answer under the right conditions, given them something to talk about...
"That's a terrible way to open an interrogation, you know." Gabriella had been trying to teach her some of the finer points of interrogation and torture, though the Echani woman remained frustrated by the fact that Zarene still knew only the first thirty of the Thousand Cuts even after repeated sessions. "You need to offer a choice, or at least the illusion of one. Otherwise there's little incentive to answer."
"Besides, last I checked, for a citizen of the empire to take a walk within its territories was not a crime."
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Mar 19, 2011 23:31:06 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Mar 19, 2011 23:31:06 GMT -5
So this was a cheeky little Sith, was it? Mox was unoffended. She was unmoved by most things, really.
Mickey, however, hissed. "These ain't your woods, and they ain't the Empire's woods, not yet, and not ever."
Mox ignored him. "Actually," she said, picking a bit of dirt out from one of her nails, "I just wanted to kill you, and mail your head back to the base to make a point. But Tensen convinced me you might know something useful." She gestured vaguely, skeptically. But she fancied herself quite clever, quite conniving.
"You still have not answered the question. And I am not very patient."
Mickey, his temper still riled, was rummaging through one of the piles, muttering something about fingernails. Mox actually quite liked that line of thinking. Whether or not they got any valuable information out of this girl, they could send her back to her precious Empire, bit, by bit, by bit...
Tensen was being oddly quiet. He usually had something to say. Butch sat in the corner, looking dreamily at the prisoner. Even Mox almost shuddered at what he must be thinking. Perhaps he should just leave them alone in the room together. That was certain to do something drastic, whether it loosed the girl's tongue or removed it altogether.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Mar 21, 2011 5:29:10 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Mar 21, 2011 5:29:10 GMT -5
She looked at the man who had had the sudden outburst, left eyebrow arching upwards slightly. "You ambush me, bring me out here, and tie me to a chair, and all you want to do is talk politics?"
Her attention went back to feather-headed woman. "You really don't know how the Empire works, do you? The Empire doesn't care whether its soldiers live or die. We're disposable to them. They only worry if we fail to send in a status report on time. A head... they'd probably consider that a status report.... Probably make up a story on how you people kill messengers and prisoners of war. Use that to rile up the troops,... might even be an excuse to start razing the forests..." She trailed off, appearing to be deep in thought.
She wondered how serious the woman was, if she would really try to kill her. If it came to that,.... while Zarene's hands and feet were tied, she still had the Force to defend herself with. These rebels must have either not realized that about her, or they lacked the equipment to do anything about. She started making a mental list of various objects in the room, things that she could quickly lift with the Force and use as projectiles.
"But... if I don't report back," She finally continued, "Then they start wondering. Like if I've defected, or started blabbing about Imperial encryption codes, or other sensitive stuff. Quite paranoid, those commanders are. That's the kind of stuff that scares them." The corner of her mouth curled upwards in a very slight smile, which quickly disappeared as her face resumed its seriousness.
Hopefully that gave them something to chew on for a bit.
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Apr 27, 2011 22:47:25 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Apr 27, 2011 22:47:25 GMT -5
Mickey leaned against the wall, his arms crossed against his chest. "I say we shoot 'er, then send 'er through the wood chipper. Ain't noone gonna find 'er them. An even 'f they do, ain't gonna get any sorta ID."
Butch chortled with delight. "But what if don't kill her first. I bet she'll tell us lots before it gets to her head."
Tensen silenced them both with a look. Mox remained aloof. For all their talk, their threatening looks, they weren't soldiers. They weren't interrogators, or torturers. They were factory workers, trying to hang on to the life that had been ripped away from them. Just trying gather up the pieces of the place that was home.
Tensen regarded the girl with none of the malevolence, but all of the severity of the others. There was something to his countenance that seemed more... intensely curious than ill wishing. Almost warm.
"I am wondering who you work for," he said thoughtfully. "Who you really work for."
Something in his gaze was knowing, as if he already had a guess. As if he knew she was more than just your ordinary Sith soldier, as if she were just some piece he intended to fit into a bigger puzzle.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
May 13, 2011 17:47:58 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on May 13, 2011 17:47:58 GMT -5
Zarene listened as the group of so-called "freedom fighters" argued amongst themselves. Good. Each minute they kept talking to each other was another minute she didn't have to actively work to keep them talking, and soon, Gabriella would be bringing the Taipan out of orbit and into the atmosphere. Soon Onin would be getting the signal to start his attack. She just had to hold out of a little while longer.
The two men continued their bickering, but a third seemed strangely quiet. He seemed calm and poised, different from the rest. Suddenly Zarene realized something. He was Force-sensitive, strongly so. The aura was unmistakable. She had been too distracted before to realize it.
You're slipping, Yin, she thought. You're supposed to be the observant one.
She looked at the man again. He seemed strangely familiar, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it at first.
Then she remembered.
Zarene Yin sat in her quarters in the Jedi Temple. She was fifteen years old, just three years into her apprenticeship with Jedi Master Ralth Telvin. Fifteen, still young, still immature, but it was a time of new and exciting changes. Practicing Shii-cho, learning to shoot a blaster, studying galactic history and politics, math and science, noticing boys for perhaps the first time in her life....
Master Telvin had cautioned her about that last one, reminded her of the Code and her commitment to the Jedi way, but otherwise letting Zarene sort out her feelings on the subject herself. In many ways, he was the father figure that Zarene had never had in her life, stern but not overbearing, mindful of tradition but also encouraging her to find her own way. It had been him who had encouraged her to learn the blaster when it was discovered she actually had some talent with the weapon.
The door opened and Master Telvin stepped. "Pack your stuff, 'Renie," he said, "Council just assigned us a new mission. Oh, and bring your blaster this time." That was odd. The missions they had been on up to now were mostly diplomatic affairs. Trade disputes, political negotiations, and the like. She had yet to even draw her weapon outside the Temple.
Telvin must have noticed the puzzled look on her face. "This one might be a little more dangerous. Best to be prepared." He patted Zarene on the head reassuringly, ruffling her hair as he did so. "There's also someone I'd like you to meet before we go."
A second man stepped through the door. He was slightly taller than Master Telvin, clean-shaven with short hair that had just a few hints of gray near the temples. "This is Tensen. Old friend of mine. He'll be accompanying us on this mission."
Her jaw dropped slightly at the realization, before she quickly clicked it back shut, trying not to betray any emotion. Did he know? Did he recognize her?
Either way, things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jun 25, 2011 12:18:31 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jun 25, 2011 12:18:31 GMT -5
Tensen watched the realization creep through Zarene's features, scarred though they were. However, she said nothing.
"I also wonder," he said, tone unchanged, belying nothing, "Who you have betrayed, to work in the position that you do."
His tone remained peaceful, inquisitive, and did not indulge in accusing. His eyes dwelled a moment on her broad scar, and armless shoulder. Tensen's mind clicked backwards to one of the moments that had turned his hair more salt than pepper.
"Ralth is dead." The Knight could not look Tensen in the eye.
Tensen swore. The Knight jumped. Tensen apologized, but his mind was far, far away. He had been willing the ship to go faster, willing the Force to give him a tailwind.
He was supposed to be on the ship that brought backup just in the nick of time, the ship with the reinforcements that turned the tide in battle, the ship that would bring him to fight along Ralth's side like he had so often.
But no. He was on the ship that was too little, too late.
Maybe. Or maybe not.
"Have they found Zarene Yin, his Padawan?"
The Knight spoke into the radio, waited for an answer. It garbled over the speaker, as the very ship passed. The one with Ralth's body. Tensen numbly saluted it.
"No," the Knight replied, "There was no sign of her, and they were under too much fire."
Tensen strode up to the cockpit and began to rattle off orders to the pilot. For forty-five minutes, the ship made low passes over the area, searching for any sign of the missing Padawan. There was nothing. Once the area had cleared out, Tensen canvased the area on foot. Three hours of searching turned up nothing.
Tensen would have searched longer, anything in the memory of Ralth. But he had searched all the places that made sense, and the shady characters were beginning to catch on to his presence.
He was too late. That final lingering hope, romantic and naive, of taking Ralth's Padawan as his own and keeping the man's legacy alive was shattered. Zarene Yin was gone.
Tensen stepped back aboard the Jedi ship, tail between his legs. He knew one thing for certain. He was going to need to spend a lot of time talking to a therapist.
Tensen's expression remained unchanged, imploring and analyzing. Questions tingled at the back of his mind. He waited to judge Zarene's reaction. Tensen figured that if he kept pushing and prodding, eventually he'd hit a sore spot...
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jul 18, 2011 5:48:03 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jul 18, 2011 5:48:03 GMT -5
She had ignored his first question, but his second hit a little bit closer to home. "Betrayed?" she growled, "I betrayed no one." No one who didn't betray me first.
Did that make it right? It did, didn't it?
"Shhh... don't speak. Your face is not fully healed yet," a deep, male voice spoke.
Her eyes slowly opened. Her vision, blurry, slowly began to focus, and she could make out the figure of a green-skinned twi'lek standing over her.
"Do you remember what happened?"
Her master, dying, the echo of his last words to her still in her ears... Run. The grenade,... the fire and blinding light,... the ship taking off and flying away into the distance. Blackness.
She closed her eyes, feeling the teardrops forming.
"Ahh, yes, you're quite lucky we found you and plucked you off of that battlefield after having been left for dead."
"Where am I?" she whispered. A jolt of pain shot through her cheek.
"I told you not to speak." He must have noticed her wince. "You're in the medbay of a facility owned by a little organization you might know as the Exchange. Now rest. We will speak later."
He came back several days later. "Your healing is going well. A few more days and you'll have regained full functionality."
Zarene held up her mechanical right arm, which had replaced her own arm which had been amputated at the shoulder, flexing her fingers. The light from the ceiling reflected off the metal surface of her fingers with a dull luster, and there was a small metal clink as she tapped her thumb to each fingertip. "Full functionality?"
"Full functionality." The twi'lek answered.
Perhaps, but it would never be the same.
"When that happens, will I be free to leave?"
"Yes... after payment, of course. Nothing gets you nothing, after all. Until your debt is paid you belong to us."
"I have no money."
"Don't worry about that. We're the Exchange. We'll think of a fair trade. In fact, some of my superiors are quite interested in the services that someone of your skillset could provide."
Zarene knew little about the Exchange, just some rumors and whispers, none of it good. She remained silent.
"I know what you're thinking. You're a good little girl. You're afraid of doing anything unethical or shady, aren't you?"
"I am a Jedi. I cannot do your dirty work."
"Jedi? You really think so, even after they abandoned you?"
"They will be searching for me. I know it."
He started laughing, and placed a datapad in her hands, an article from the Coruscant News Network on the screen. It was about the mission. She scrolled through the text, eyes finally resting on one line. "Jedi Ralth Telvin and his padawan Zarene Yin were killed in the ensuing skirmish covering the retreat of their fellow jedi."
"Dead? Bu I... I... but I'm not dead." Had they even searched?
The twi'lek smiled. "I'll let you think on that for a while," he said, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jul 25, 2011 13:09:57 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 25, 2011 13:09:57 GMT -5
"Betrayed?" she growled, finally, "I betrayed no one."
Tensen felt the slightest ripple in the fabric of the force, and knew he'd found the belly of the beast.
Mox looked on blankly. She was in the business of hating the Sith, not dancing around them and finessing this thing or that. At the current moment, however, she didn't have anything better to do than leave Tensen to his mind-games. He'd tried something similar on her, once, but... she didn't like to think about that.
Mickey looked like he wanted to kill something, probably Butch, who was bored and blowing bubbles with his spittle.
Tensen was still intently focused on the girl. His eyes searched her face for any further clues.
"Tensen, we need you to sign the report." The woman's tone, usually matronly, edged with stern frustration.
"But we didn't find her body, she's not de--"
"Tensen." The woman sighed. "You do realize these reports are public. You believe she's still alive. I want to believe she's still alive. But. If we publish, in the report, that she is still alive, then whoever took her -- as you know someone must have -- will know that we are still looking for her. They will be on their guard. If you want the best chance of finding her, you want their guard to be low. If they think we're no longer looking for her..."
Tensen swallowed hard, and put his hands to his head. "Then we call her dead. Right." Tensen trembled as he sighed, but his fingers reluctantly keyed his pin. The report was published.
"I'm sure you believe that," Tensen said, voice calm, "For you were betrayed first, weren't you?" For the first time, a shadow of sadness crossed the man, in his eyes and in his voice. "That has been the fall of many great men and women. Repaying evil with evil. But to repay misunderstanding with evil..." His expression was significant. "Can one ever really know which they're doing?"
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Aug 2, 2011 21:30:49 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 2, 2011 21:30:49 GMT -5
Where's the signal? This is taking too long.
Nieraan stood in tall grasses, leaning against the side of one of the drop ships with his arms folded across his chest. They'd stopped their sweeps of the forest's edge and settled down in a field near a forward operating base a few dozen miles west of the forest. The signal hadn't come yet.
And so he, along with his strike force, settled down and waited.
The pilots kept the engines warm, ready to take off the moment they got the signal to move in. Some of the soldiers milled about near their strike craft; others patrolled to make sure no one that was unwanted came wandering towards them.
Nieraan was restless, though. This was supposed to be a change of pace--something so much better than the garbage the Sith had had him doing so far. Yet here he was, standing in a field. Waiting.
"Just gotta wait," he muttered to himself. "All the waitin'll pay off soon enough."
Better pay off. Or I'm likely to kill someone they don't want me to.
"You can't wait for it either, can you?"
Nieraan looked left at the sound of the voice, which sounded like what might come from someone who'd eaten a bowl of nails for breakfast. "Ah, you," he said, nodding slightly to the scarred young soldier from earlier. He was leaning sitting with his back to Nieraan on a step into the dropship's bay, idly sharpening his knife. "Yeah. Ready to stretch my legs a bit. Been a while since I got the chance."
The soldier snorted. "Figures. Must be nice, bein' able to do the things you can do." He held the knife up before him, turning it slowly in his hand and studying the edge for a long moment. "Y'know, there was a time, I didn't care for it. All this magic Force stuff or whatever the hell it is you call it. Was just somethin' you all lorded over the rest of us; made you think you're better than the rest of us cause'a somethin' you were born with.
"But you know what, Sith?" The soldier turned around, baring the horribly-scared side of his face. "Ever since the battle, I wish I could do some of the things you could. Wish I could use that power to kill every damn one of 'em as slow an' painful as I can. But I'll just have to settle with what I've got."
Nieraan lifted a brow. "Interesting. Well, if yo-" Something sounded in his pocket.
Three beeps. One long. One short. One long.
Both of them dropped whatever thoughts had been running through their minds and looked at the little device that Nieraan pulled from his pocket. It beeped again.
A slow, crooked smile broke across Nieraan's face. "Well you want payback for whatever they did, don't you? Looks like your time just came."
------------------------------
In the moments after, their temporary camp had become a hive of activity. With Zarene's signal coming in, they'd pinpointed her location, sent word to the Taipan, loaded up and taken to the skies again.
Now the drop ships flew low and fast, racing off to battle and Zarene's location. Nieraan rode in the front craft, along with the scarred soldier and a few others. He stood as he had before, near the open side with a hand up to keep his balance as the wind whipped through his hair. He grinned eagerly
"Hope you're all ready, gents," he yelled over the wind's buffeting. "We got ourselves a resistance to kill!"
Some of them yelled answers. Other nodded or gave sharp claps. The scarred man only nodded grimly as the drop ships roared over the forest.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Aug 15, 2011 20:37:44 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Aug 15, 2011 20:37:44 GMT -5
The first jobs had been relatively simple. Missions against the Hutts, the ones who had caused all her suffering. It wasn't murder. It was justice. But the longer she stayed with the Exchange, the further she had drifted from the Jedi. Would they had taken her back? She wasn't sure, but she had somehow convinced herself that they would not. Sometimes it was easier to simply follow orders than actually face your problems.
But things had changed for her. She would notice the ways that people looked at her. Parents holding on to their children a little tighter when she was in the area. Waiters moving her to a back table because they didn't want to make other customers uncomfortable. One night she was on her way back to the small apartment that she had been assigned on Nar Shaddaa when she was set upon by a swoop gang, who laughed and jeered at the ugly scar-faced cyborg girl, riding in circles around her, throwing rocks and eggs.
Something snapped. She had killed other people before, but it was always part of a mission, part of following orders. This was the first she had done completely on her own. She slammed one of the swoops into the ground, flung its rider into the air, catching him and holding him by the neck with her metal arm, steel fingers slowly crushing his windpipe. She remembered the sound of cracking cartilage. It sounded wonderful.
Zarene laughed ruefully. "So you think it's that simple? But what would you know? You're a Jedi Master. People always treat you with respect. Always 'yes, master jedi,' 'as you wish, master jedi.' Has it occurred to you that not all of the galaxy is like that? You never been on the bottom. You've never had to bite and claw your way back up just to survive."
"Have you had people hate and distrust you without even getting to know who you are? Have you had people jeer at you are treat you like some sub-human freak simply for your appearance? Well? Have you? HAVE YOU?" She coughed, her throat hoarse.
"We were always taught that the galaxy was some wonderful place that the Jedi had a duty to protect. But it's not. It's ugly. And disgusting. The Republic is a corrupted, rotten corpse that just doesn't realize that it's dead already. And maybe I'm just tired of being treated like some gutter trash. Maybe I'm tired of always having to hide in the shadows. But I don't have to take it." Steel fingers squeezing away the life of her tormentors, such a wonderful feeling...
She remembered the first time she had encountered the Sith. Before, she had simply served the Exchange as an agent and assassin, obeying orders, doing what she was told and going through the motions. But the Sith, they gave her a new goal, a new purpose, a place where she belonged. She had met Darth Paxis in the depths of Subterrel, and his words to her, which had come after all the abuse and ugliness, stayed with her still. You are beautiful. And when Lord Iniquitous spoke of toppling the dying Republic to build a new Order, she believed.
"I don't have to take it because I have the power to change it."
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Dec 19, 2011 14:25:16 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Dec 19, 2011 14:25:16 GMT -5
Mox's eyes widened at the word 'Jedi'. He head snapped towards Tensen, a fiery red flush of anger under her ashy white skin. The woman finished her exclaiming. He made no move to deny the claim. Mox swore.
Tensen inclined his eyes to Mox, knowing that he would have quite a bit of explaining to do. Or not, considering the chances of anyone in the current room actually surviving what was to come were very slim. Seemingly unperturbed, he turned his eyes back to Zarene.
The man took a deep breath. "You do not really want answers to all those questions," he said, "for the truth is often excruciatingly painful. But know that the Force does not lift some to the top out of unfairness, it lifts some to the top, so that they can extend a hand down, and help up others around them. This is the balance of things. But, the man above who does not reach down, and the man below who does not reach up..." his gaze was only compassionate, "often suffer from the same pride." He sighed. "No, I have never been treated like a 'sub-human freak'. But had you returned to the Jedi, you would not have been either." He paused a moment, wondering how such a bright spirit could have become so very lost.
"The galaxy," he continued, "Is a cruel, dark, twisted place, full of selfishness and suffering. If it weren't, there would be no need for the Jedi. The Jedi do not fight for what the galaxy is; they fight for what they want it to be. The Jedi do not fight because the Galaxy is good, they fight because they hope their efforts might one day make it good. You are trying to fight the fire simply by making yours burn brighter, trying to get rid of the flood by overwhelming it with your own maelstrom." His voice was more urgent now, almost pleading.
"You don't have the power to change anything. You simply have the power to be more controlling than the controllers you're fighting against. You do not have the power to earn love or compassion -- those things can never be earned. You can only earn fear and respect, but one day, you will learn that those things are hollow without fiber or character to fill them. The galaxy is rotted not because of its leadership, but because of its people. Sentient beings, when left to their own devices, are ultimately selfish beings. The very same hatred and spite that caused those people to be so cruel to you, is what you are showing me now. It is a vicious cycle; one only hope can break. And the Jedi protect that hope."
Tensen settled back, with a deep breath, to his previous state. He could still feel that urgency, that nudge at the edge of his consciousness, and he was wary of brushing it off as something to do with Zarene. It might have been, but it might also be due to the danger drawing closer.
Ever closer.
|
|
|
|
|
Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
6,347 posts
1,102 likes
Friendly neighborhood CEO
|
|
last online Jan 12, 2024 11:24:20 GMT -5
Administrator
|
|
|
Jan 5, 2012 12:55:21 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jan 5, 2012 12:55:21 GMT -5
"Alright, we're almost there!" the pilot yelled. "Prepare to drop!"
Nieraan looked down at the forest below. The wind whipped his hair around his face, set his sash flapping wildly around his legs. As they drew closer to Zarene's beacon, he could feel growing presence of a hive of life, hiding in the forest.
Nearly there...
The dropship suddenly began to slow, then descended through the canopy of trees as they became more sparse and spread out. Some of the others maintained their level, circling wide overhead and keeping their weapons pointed down at the ground. They'd land the strike force in two waves, while the other ships stayed in the air for support and to maintain air superiority.
Nieraan hopped out of the drop ship as it touched the ground. Around him, soldiers piled out of the other ships.
Several yards away, the ground sloped down naturally, as if leading to a cave. But there was a metal door built across the opening. One of the soldiers looked to Nieraan, and the two nodded in unison. The group started to advance, weapons raised as the dropships took back to the skies so that the others could land.
Nieraan took both of his sabers in hand as he walked, but kept them quiet. No need to light them. Not yet. But he could feel something threatening in the air. Something that a warning from the Force tingling at the back of his spine...
"There!" a soldier yelled.
Blaster fire erupted.
Some rebels had been hiding behind the trees. The Sith broke the assault before it could start, pinning flushing them from their cover and cutting them down with a hail of blasterfire.
Must be the defenders, Nieraan thought as his sabers, gold and blue, came to life. The second group of dropships was landing, unloading their soldiers as the others began to pound the retreating rebels from above.
Nieraan moved, using the Force to leap to a fleeing rebel and cut his legs out from beneath him. As he looked up, he spotted another, some thin scraggly youth holding a large tube over his shoulder that almost looked like it weighed as much as he did.
He was pointing it at one of the dropships.
Nieraan reached out with the Force, grabbing the weapon and jerking right as the rebel fired, sending the missile spiraling wide and crashing into a tree with a loud whoom!. While the tree crashed into the ground, Nieraan killed the rebel with a pull of the Force and thrust of his saber.
The rest of the sparse defender group was dead or retreating toward the base. As the landed gunships rejoined the others in the sky, the strike force pushed forward as a whole, toward the entrance. They'd blow the door, and then the extermination would begin.
And getting Zarene. That would be good too.
Better not get yourself killed before we get there, Yin.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jul 2, 2012 16:37:14 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jul 2, 2012 16:37:14 GMT -5
Her original objective had only been to stall for time, keep herself alive until relief arrived. Simple. But meeting Tensen here had complicated things, his words threatening to mess up the nice neat order of things that she had formed in her mind. He was trying to get her to question. Question the Sith, question her resolve. And there was a time where it might have worked. But Zarene was stubborn. She was committed, so she would grit her teeth and dig in her heels.
"Yes,... the people are the problem, aren't they?" Zarene whispered. "And your compassion can't help that. How could it? I fight for what I want the galaxy to be too. And what I want, and what it needs, is order."
"And your compassion," she said the word with distaste, "it can't bring that. Compassion just breeds complacency. Complacency only promotes lawlessness. Lawlessness and chaos. The only thing that can bring order is the firm rule of law, and the iron hand that enforces it. Control."
"So no, this isn't about earning love. I don't need love." That was a lie. "I don't need compassion." So was that. But if she could help bring about order, she would have those things too. They would see. "If you want to save lives, you should join me. The Jedi are the thing keeping this Republic from toppling. Let it fall. We can sweep away the old and lay the new foundation, a stronger foundation."
|
|
|
|
|
Kella
Fire and Blood
4,089 posts
5 likes
Fire cannot kill a dragon.
|
|
last online Oct 30, 2014 9:41:46 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jul 22, 2012 22:52:27 GMT -5
Post by Kella on Jul 22, 2012 22:52:27 GMT -5
For a long moment, Tensen said nothing. He considered refuting her claims, presenting her with the holes in her logic, but he knew it was pointless. Tensen didn't know why he could say that, that she believed what she was saying deeply, perhaps even down to her core. But somehow, he knew, that in this moment she could not be convinced. Maybe in the future, maybe with perseverance, with demonstration, with example, not with words.
But there was no time for these things. No, Zarene could not be redeemed today.
She could only be mourned.
"Child, how could you become so very lost?" he said, voice barely a whisper.
The answer came in the form of a massive explosion, that left Tensen's ears ringing and shook dust from the seams of the metal walls. Then the yelling started, first Mickey then Mox then Butch just for fun, then the others. Tensen could offer only a ragged sigh, and withdrew to the back of the room as the door bowed under the weight of a sudden collision.
The Sith had arrived.
|
|
|
|