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Topic:
For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Lord_Zeron
Registered:
Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/1/05 6:41pm
Subject:
For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
- Date Edited:
5/1/05 6:43pm (1 edits total)
Edited By:
Lord_Zeron
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Title: For the Gods
Author(s): Lord_Zeron
Timeframe: During the events of Force Heretic II & III
Characters: OCs, Nen Yim, Nom Anor, Kunra
Genre: Adventure
Keywords: Yuuzhan Vong, Shamed Ones, Gods
Summary: The story of a shaper heretic
Notes: This is a short story, but it'll probably take four or five posts. All replies are welcome and appriciated. There may be some spoilers from NJO books.
From the fifth known journal of K’raar Hool. Translated from Yuuzhan Vong to Standard Basic. All dates are in terms of days after the start of the journal, with the first entry being on Day 1. All times have been converted to standard hours, minutes, and seconds.
Entry 1
Day 1: 21:39:09
My name is K’raar of domain Hool. I am a Yuuzhan Vong, one of the chosen people of the gods. This isn’t the first journal I’ve ever started, but it’s the first that I would consider to be interesting, besides perhaps this one time when... well, that’s another tale. Back to the point, I am recording this in a special qahsa, one only accessible by me. If I do not access it in fifty years, it will open its secrets for all to know.
I might as well use the first entry to talk about myself, this is my story after all. Even though I am only a shaper adept, I have as much talent as most master shapers, but I learned long ago that the higher one’s rank in the Yuuzhan Vong hierarchy, the shorter their lifespan. And thus I have turned down numerous promotions, and take extra precaution to hide most of my talent.
But what talent I did demonstrate had apparently been enough for me to become a part of a special project, funded by Supreme Overlord Shimrra himself. This project is top secret, and the damutek in which we work is situated in the Supreme Overlord’s palace on Yuuzhan’tar, the world that the infidels previously refereed to as ‘Coruscant.’ We are guarded by a squad of warriors, day and night, to keep spies out, and us in. The project has one simple goal, although one that would no doubt get all of us killed if it was ever to be discovered.
You see, there are eight cortexes of shaper knowledge. As a shaper gains experience and rank, we are allowed access to more and more of these cortexes. However, as only a select few master shapers, and those of us working on the project, know, there is no eighth cortex. It is a fraud, something to give the public hope that there’s still a chance that we can win the war against the infidels. But the Supreme Overlord must’ve known all along that there was no eighth cortex, and thus it is my job, along with several other shapers, to create one.
Here in the damutek, most of our time is spent working on the projects assigned to us by the head of the damutek, master shaper Nen Yim. But I have no doubt that most of the shapers here are also working on their own projects in their free time, hoping that theirs will succeed, and bring them more glory than the rest of us.
I also have my own secret project, although my goals are much different than those of my colleagues. I know, as do most of us in the project, that after the eighth cortex is completed, we will all be killed. Shimrra will want to make sure that the public would never suspect that he, the chosen one of the gods, was actually encouraging heresy. All of the others, or so I suspect, do not fear death. They think that what they are doing is helping the Yuuzhan Vong people, and will give them honorable deaths in the eyes of the gods. But I don’t want to die, even if my death was considered to be ‘honorable.’
I have had a long time to speculate on the Yuuzhan Vong religion, something that is automatically accepted by most of my species. I believe in the gods, perhaps more than many others. But I also know that no mortal, no matter how god-like they may be treated, is perfect, including the Supreme Overlord. I know that the gods are even now watching over us, and they must be troubled by what they see.
In my opinion, all Yuuzhan Vong start out equal in the eyes of the gods. We are judged by our actions, not by things beyond our control. The Shamed Ones, in my opinion, deserve every bit of opportunity for honor as any other Yuuzhan Vong. Honor should not be determined by birth, it should be determined by servitude to the gods. Shamed Ones are said to be looked down on by the gods, because of their failed implants, which are a mark of rank in Yuuzhan Vong society. But I have done studies on Shamed Ones before, and I know that their implants failed simply because of incompatibility. Some creatures just cannot be crafted onto certain individuals, because of numerous medical reasons.
And yet those born a warrior must remain a warrior, and those born a worker must remain a worker, for that is the way it has always been. But I will stand for this no more. I have a plan to escape from this damutek that is my prison. I will right the wrongs that have plagued our people for far too long.
The gods do nothing without a reason. Thus, there must be a reason for the existence of the infidels and their abominations. I have long pondered this, and have arrived at one simple conclusion: The infidels exist to teach us a lesson, the lesson that all should be judged by their actions, and that all should have equal opportunity for promotion, honor, and glory.
Alone, I am only a single talented shaper. I have very little chance of changing the system of my entire species. But there are those out there who could help me, and whom I would gladly help in return. They are labeled heretics by the upper castes, but I know better. They are simply the shamed who wish to be unashamed, a right that all of us deserve. And I am going to join these heretics, and do all in my power to make their dreams come true. I am going to do it because it is what is right. I am going to do it for the gods.
But religion isn’t my only reason for wanting to join the Shamed Ones. Since I was a crècheling, there has been one Yuuzhan Vong who I respect more than any other, one who I always strived to be like. For this individual is intelligent, cunning, and resourceful, all traits which I greatly admire. There are some things I don’t admire about him, such as his selfishness, although I understand that self-preservation should always come first. My hero’s name was Nom Anor.
Although he was over a decade older than I was, we had both grown up on the same worldship. Anor had been my mentor, almost like an older crèche-mate. But in recent months, the Yuuzhan Vong executor had failed the Supreme Overlord, and been sentenced to death. I had heard rumors that Anor had actually attacked his superior, and escaped to the underlevels of Yuuzhan’tar. And to me, this sounds just like something my old idol would’ve done.
Nom Anor is, and has always been, famous for infiltrating societies. Sometimes he would do it to destroy the society, as was often the case with the infidels. Other times, he would use groups for his own personal gain. And with the Yuuzhan Vong hierarchy no longer an option, I reasoned that there was only one other place Anor could’ve gone; to join with the heretics. And now, I am planning to join him. It’s every crècheling’s dream-come-true, to work alongside their hero for a purpose they both believe in.
Which brought me to forming my plan to escape this damutek. The plan itself is already completed, and I have only one more preparation to make before I can begin executing it. It is late now, and time for me to rest. I’m going to hide this qahsa in the hidden compartment I made in the Yorik Coral wall of my lab, along with all of my other secret experiments. By this time tomorrow, the gods willing, I will be free from this place, and my plan will be underway.
Until then, may the gods’ blessing be upon me.
K’raar Hool
-----signature-----
"The greatest reward is often the journey which brings you to it." -Someone Wise Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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NenYim
Registered:
Nov '04
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Date Posted:
5/1/05 6:51pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Nice work! You've got the Yuuzhan Vong perspective down wonderfully, especially with this heretical heretic type one. Lookign forward to more! 
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Then you saved my life. How disgusting. How unfortunate.-Vua Rapuung Turn of Stars: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=18086371&replies=1 rest of fics are in my bio Padawan of Spike2002 
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SilSolo
Registered:
Mar '04
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Date Posted:
5/2/05 5:48am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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K'raar Hool's proving himself interesting. It's extremely rare to see a shaper written so well.
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Healer_Leona
Registered:
Jul '00
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Date Posted:
5/2/05 6:10am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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I am very unfamiliar with the EU, but you do write a most intriguing tale. From what little I do know it seems K’raar is a rather indivdual thinker, especially his belief that birth doesn't grant special rights of the gods, that it may be earned by all.
Nice start!
-----signature-----
and i feel them drown my name
so easy to know and forget with this kiss
i'm not afraid to go but it goes so slow
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Killik_Twilight
Registered:
Apr '05
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Date Posted:
5/2/05 8:35am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Hey, another YV writer! Great! I like your viewpoint on another shaper's ideas as a member of the eight cortex project. It's also interesting that he holds Nom Anor as a hero . . .
Very good! I hope you visit Behind the Scars to join the rest of us YV guys (and girls!)
KT
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"Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that
men have died to win them."
Franklin D. Roosevelt
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Lord_Zeron
Registered:
Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/2/05 5:51pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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NenYim: Thanks, I'm glad you like it. Coming from a Yuuzhan Vong, that's a real compliment.
SilSolo: Thanks, I'm glad everyone thinks it's good. I hope you find the next chapters interesting as well.
Healer Leona: Yes, K'raar is rather unique for a Yuuzhan Vong. I hope my story will be a positive example of the EU.
Killik Twilight: I'm glad you like the idea, I think it's a good one. I'm not sure what "Behind the Scars" is, but it sounds interesting. Could you give me a link?
Thank you all for your replies and encouragment, and here's the next entry. Enjoy:
Entry 2
Day 2: 20:49:31
Today has been very interesting.
I woke up a half hour earlier than normal, to finish the final preparations for my plan. I walked out of my personal lab and into the central area of the damutek. There I found two Shamed Ones bringing in supplies, just as they were supposed to.
Upon sighting me, one of them, who I know to be named Raamr Iln, quickly bowed his head to the floor and cried, “Oh great shaper, we did not know you were awake. Please excuse us for being in your presence.”
I pointed to Iln’s companion and said to her, “I want you to continue about your chores. Iln will pay for both of your crimes.”
This brought a whimper from Iln, but I did not care. Although he did not know it, his suffering could serve to stop the suffering of the rest of his kind. I would not waste his sacrifice.
“Iln, follow me,” I commanded, and paced back towards my lab. The Shamed One followed me, close enough to hear my commands, although not close enough to be insulting.
When we were both in the lab, and the entrance closed behind us, I proceeded to my secret compartment and removed two items. The first was what appeared to be nothing more than an Ooglith Masquer, a common device among Yuuzhan Vong spies, which could cover one’s entire body and change their entire appearance, even making them look like an entirely different species. The second item was a sacworm, filled with Kyeeroks, small echinoderms that were comprised of mostly nervous tissue, which gave them a superior memory and sense of touch.
I coaxed open the mouth of the sacworm and removed the six Kyeeroks inside of it. I placed them on the counter of my lab, and gave them their instructions. The six creatures then crawled onto my arms, three on each, being careful to avoid the Tu’gaata spikes embedded onto the back of each of my forearms.
Iln was still standing in a corner of the small room watching the events with fear in his eyes. Although he had been a Shamed One since birth, he could still tell that he wasn’t going to like what was about to happen.
“Now, Iln, I want you to remain in that corner, as completely still as you can possibly manage, is that clear?”
“Yes, oh great shaper,” the Shamed One replied. From the nervousness in his voice, and the shaking of his body, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep very still. But I was prepared for this, so I reached under the lab counter, and pulled out a Needle-Bug filled with a pink liquid.
“Now don’t flinch, Iln, this shouldn’t hurt too much.” This was a deliberate lie, of course, but it calmed down Iln just a little. I stuck the needle into his arm, and he barely managed to suppress a yelp. The paralyzant took immediate effect, and Iln was frozen in place, unable to move anything besides his eyes. His inner organs and systems remained untouched, so that he could still breath, even if only through his nostrils since his mouth remained sealed shut.
I then held out both of my arms so the very tips of my fingers were just barely touching the Shamed One’s arms. Although a lifetime of hating Shamed Ones told me that this was an insult to the gods, I didn’t flinch. The Kyeeroks crawled off of my arms and onto Iln’s and began their work. It would take a few hours, so I began working on my normal project, a modification of the blast bug that was supposed to explode with Blorash Jelly. Even though the project was weeks, if not months, from completion, I knew it would be better to pretend that I was going to be working on it that long.
When the Kyeeroks were finally finished, the crystal-like organ in the center of their bodies glowed red. I laid them back on the counter, and used my shaper knowledge to connect them to the “Ooglith Masquer.” They began downloading their memory into that of the Masquer, as I withdrew the counter-poison and injected it into Iln.
“Master, what are you doing?” the Shamed One asked as soon as he was once again in control of his mouth.
“I am using you for an experiment, and that’s all you need to know.”
“I am honored,” Iln replied with a bow. I walked back over to the secret compartment and withdrew another object. It was a roundish plant, about a foot tall, with a circular mouth on the top. The creature was a variation of thud bugs and blast bugs, and was the Yuuzhan Vong equivalent of the Infidel’s Detonators. A very powerful equivalent.
“I require something else from you, Iln. I want you to stay here, and guard this. Do not touch it, or move from your position. If anyone besides me asks you what you are doing, you are to say that you were refilling my supply of Needle-Bugs. Is that understood?”
“Oh yes, great shaper. I will obey your orders.”
“Good,” I said. I left the laboratory, and sought the head of the project, master shaper Nen Yim. She was in the center of the damutek, discussing something with Ahsi Yim, one of her own domain.
“Please excuse me masters, I did not mean to intrude. I only wanted a word with Master Yim.”
“Which Master Yim?” Ashi asked. I had forgotten that she had recently been promoted.
“Master Nen Yim, and congratulations on your master’s hand. You more than deserved it.”
Ashi smiled and then turned back to Nen. “I will get back to my work now, if you have no more suggestions. Summon me if you need anything.”
“I will,” Nen Yim replied, as the other returned to her private lab. “So, K’raar Hool, what is it you wish to speak with me about?”
This was it, a crucial phase to my plan. If I messed this up, it was all for nothing. But I had long admired the master shaper, and this was the last chance I would get to do something about it. “Master Yim, I am sure that you have realized that we are prisoners of this damutek.”
“And I would have it no other way. The heresy we perform must never reach the ears of the public.”
“Yes... but, do you not ever wish for more? To be away from this place? To serve the gods in better ways?”
“Better ways? What better way is there to serve the gods than to create new weapons for our people?” I opened my mouth to answer, but she continued without giving me a chance. “And besides, there is no way out of here, so wipe all thoughts of escaping from your mind.”
“You are wrong, Master Yim,” I replied. “I have found a way out. A way that is so obvious, I am surprised it has not been used before. But I was wondering... would you like to come with me?”
The shaper remained quiet for almost a minute. Her silence worried me, but I dared not interrupt it. Whatever her answer was, I would be prepared. Unless she did not answer me, and instead attacked immediately. Who knew what secrets her eight-fingered master’s hand held? But my silence was rewarded and she gave me an answer, albeit one that I did not like. “I will accompany you. But we must wait until night. I must first prepare my things.”
“Yes, master Yim. I will not fail you.” I bowed my head, and she headed back to her quarters. I turned around, and then did the same.
Her answer could’ve meant only one of two things. One, that she really did want to come with me. The second, and perhaps the more likely, was that she was only stalling so that she could alert the guards of my betrayal. But I could not take the risk, no matter how much I wanted her to come with me. I had to continue with my plan right away.
When I reached my lab, I found Raamr Iln still there, thankfully.
“Iln, I have yet another task for you.”
“Anything, master.”
I walked back over to my secret compartment and removed the rest of the objects there. One of them, a vile filled with yellow powder, I handed to Iln. The rest of them, including this journal, I hid in various inner pockets of my robeskin.
“Take this,” I said to the Shamed One, indicating the vile of powder. “Wait until I have left the room, and then pour it into the mouth of this creature.”
“I understand, master.” Hopefully, Iln didn’t recognize the creature, but even if he did it wouldn’t matter. The Shamed One wouldn’t dare disobey me, or he would suffer more than a fiery death.
I picked up the “Ooglith Masquer,” which was not what it appeared. In truth, it was a creature of my own engineering, which I named the Ooglith Masquell. Whereas one wearing an Ooglith Masquer could be identified at close range by any Yuuzhan Vong familiar with the creature, one wearing an Ooglith Masquell would be much harder to spot. To the outside world, the Masquell would appear to be the wearer’s own skin, which suited my needs perfectly. The creature was one of the first, and one of the greatest, of my creations, and every one I shape makes me proud. I picked up the Masquell and applied it to my face. It instantly stretched to cover my entire body, and dug itself into the pores of my skin. Within seconds, I was, to all intents and purposes, the Shamed One Raamr Iln. The real Iln stood memorized at my disguise, as if he was looking at the perfect image of himself, which in fact, he was.
I left the small lab, and closed the door behind me, hoping that I would never see the room again. As soon as it was closed, I proceeded to one of the storage rooms, where I quickly pretended to be inspecting a pile of unused villips. A few seconds later, I heard the sound of an explosion coming from the direction of my lab. Everything was working perfectly.
When I returned to the door of my lab, I found that Nen Yim, Subaltern Aarrn, the head of the warriors guarding our damutek, and a handful of other spectators were already there. The lab itself was completely gone, and was replaced by black smoke and ashes everywhere.
“What’s this?” Aarrn said, stepping into the room, and picking up what appeared to be the remains of a Yuuzhan Vong head. Although I knew it to be Iln’s, it was far too disfigured to identify.
“So that’s what he meant,” Nen Yim said, apparently to know one in particular. When she saw the Subaltern looking at her, she explained. “That was how he was going to escape this place; by death. I should’ve known.”
“I guess we got here a few seconds too late,” Aarrn said, holding up the skull.
“You, Shamed One!” I quickly turned to see Ashi Yim approaching me. “Get back to your duties, there’s nothing for you to see here.”
I quickly bowed my head low in servitude, and then backed away. But instead of heading to do more chores, I headed to the entrance of the damutek. However, before I could leave, I was stopped by one of the guards.
“Iln!” he screamed. “You were supposed to be out here an hour ago!”
“I apologize to the great warrior,” I said, trying my best to impersonate Iln.
“Next time it will be your life in payment,” he replied. “Now get moving.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I said, and quickly scurried away. I made my way to a small alley between our damutek, and the amphistaff breeding gla next to it. There I hid for the next few hours until night fell on Yuuzhan’tar. That’s where I am now, recording this entry. No one should notice me in this small hiding place, so I am going to get some more rest. I will be able to continue with my plan tomorrow.
Until then, may the gods’ blessing be upon me.
K’raar Hool
-----signature-----
"The greatest reward is often the journey which brings you to it." -Someone Wise Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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Killik_Twilight
Registered:
Apr '05
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Date Posted:
5/2/05 5:58pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Hey, good job! The way Kraar got out of the damutek is very good. I like how he took the Shamed One's visage, and then killed him, and used his position to escape.
As for Behind the Scars, you can find it here.
KT
-----signature-----
"Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that
men have died to win them."
Franklin D. Roosevelt
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Lord_Zeron
Registered:
Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/4/05 6:41pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Thanks, I'm having a good time writing this story too. Even I am sometimes surprised by K'raar's tricks, and I'm the one making them up!
I had a lot of fun writing this entry as well, so I hope every one has just as much fun reading it.
Entry 3
Day 4: 21:39:32
The last two days have been... intense.
I left off just after assuming the role of the Shamed One, Raamr Iln. I awoke the following day while the sky of Yuuzhan’tar was still dark. After a quick glance at the front of the damutek where I used to work, I retreated back into the alley and gently touched the side of my nose. The Ooglith Masquell easily detached itself from my skin, and fell into a lump on the ground. I picked up the lump and put it into one of the inner pockets of my robeskin, and pulled out yet another Ooglith Masquell.
This one however, was slightly different than the one that imitated Raamr Iln. Whereas the first Masquell had been shaped to look exactly like the Shamed One, the one I was now applying to my face had been made to look like a Yuuzhan Vong, although not any one individual.
I applied the creature to my face and felt it surround my body, slithering under the white fabric of my robeskin until every inch of my dark skin was covered. To the outside world I had not only changed castes, but also been promoted an entire rank. For as long as I needed, I was a Yuuzhan Vong Commander of the warrior caste.
I took another look towards the front of the damutek, being careful not to be seen. Although such an event was unlikely, it could throw a large dent, yet a salvable one, into my plans. Nonetheless, I would rather avoid any unnecessary risks.
Thankful for the fact that the darkness impaired the vision of the guards, I squinted and peered into the shadows outside of the damutek door.
I counted a total of nine warriors, although one of them might’ve been two guards close together. The closest of them, and the only one I could get a good view of, was Subaltern Aarrn Vorrik, the head of the group. A part of me was glad that he was one of them. I never had liked Aarrn much, and it was sort of ironic that he was going to help me escape from the palace, even if he didn’t yet know it.
I moved to the other side of the alley, and then walked out into the open, hoping that no one noticed. Not that it would matter anyway; now that I was a Commander, very few people would take the risk of questioning me.
I walked confidently up to the group of guards, and pointed at Aarrn. “Subaltern!” I growled in the deepest, most warrior-like voice I could manage.
Subaltern Aarrn quickly folded his arms across his chest in salute, and nodded his head. “Commander,” he acknowledged. Even though he didn’t know my name, he wouldn’t dare ask. If I wanted him to know my name, I would tell him. I was certainly starting to like being a Commander.
“Are you Subaltern Aarrn Vorrik?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“Follow me,” I ordered, quickly spinning 180 degrees and starting towards the large mountain that was the inner section of Supreme Overlord Shimrra’s palace.
“But, sir, I am under strict orders not to move from my post,” Aarrn protested, risking much with those words.
“Whose orders, Subaltern?”
“The Supreme Overlord’s, Commander.” I knew he added the last word just to make sure that he didn’t sound disobedient.
But I, of course, was prepared for his response, and had even hoped for it. Little did Aarrn know this, but I had spent many nights falling asleep as I imagined every possibility for every part of my plan, and what I could do about it. Raising the anger level in my voice just slightly, I replied, “And who do you think sent me to summon you, Subaltern?”
Aarrn gulped, easily giving away his nervousness. Definitely not proper for a warrior. I could almost see the wheels spinning in Aarrn’s head as he tried to calculate the best response. Finally reaching a decision, the warrior got down on one knee, bowed his head so that he was facing the ground in apology, and uttered, “I apologize, Commander. My life in payment.”
I opened my scarred, lipless mouth and was about to reply, “Not yet, Subaltern. Obviously, the Dread Lord sees something in you that I don’t. After he is done with you however, I might take that offer.” However, something stopped me just before the first word rolled off my tongue. Luckily, Aarrn was still facing the ground in shame, and wasn’t looking at my face. Instead, I responded, “I asked you a question, Subaltern, and I want an answer!” As I said this, I raised my right leg and stomped it down, adding importance to the statement.
Aarrn visibly shook at this action, but restrained from showing any other outwards signs of fear. I could once again imagine the warrior’s no doubt puny brain trying to remember what the question was. A few seconds later, he finally replied, “The Supreme Overlord’s orders, perhaps?”
“Is that an answer or a question?!” I barked, the anger still apparent in my voice, although slightly less so than during my previous statement. By now, the other warriors had all taken a few steps back towards the wall of the damutek, trying to look anywhere but at me and Aarrn.
“Both, my Commander. Forgive me.”
“You dare to tell me who I have to forgive?!”
“No, I-”
“SILENCE!” Although I could’ve spent all day torturing the Subaltern, I knew that sunrise was approaching, and I’d rather be out of the palace by then, even if it wasn’t a key part of the plan. Besides, our conversation was growing louder, and I didn’t want to attract the attention of any other Commanders, or worse, the Warmaster himself, who might be nearby. “No more of your foolish uttering, Vorrik. Follow me, and I don’t want a word out of you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Aarrn replied. By the time he finished his short reply, I had already turned around again and was pacing away from the damutek. For a second, I wondered if Aarrn would take the risk of telling one of the other warriors to take his place, but not even he was that stupid.
I led him only a few feet towards the Supreme One’s palace, just far enough away to be out of sight of the warriors, and then turned back towards the alley between the damutek and the gla. Faint signs of sunlight could already be seen outside of the palace, so I knew that I didn’t have much time left.
I confidently entered the small alley, and then came to an abrupt halt. Aarrn stopped just in time from bumping into me. I took another step forward, and then turned around, my eyes at an equal level to his.
“I want you to watch the entrance while I open up the secret door. Do not watch me, the Supreme One would not want you to know how to open it.”
If Aarrn had any questions about the non-existent “secret door,” he kept them to himself. Once he was standing in the entrance to the alley, his back to me, I knew that I was ready for the next phase of my plan.
Although I didn’t have an amphistaff like the one rapped around the Subaltern’s arm, I was not weaponless. For, where my left eye used to be, was now an implant. A plaeryin bol to be specific; an organism which could shoot deadly poison at an enemy.
I felt the blood rushing to my left eye-socket, encouraged it in fact, and the plaeryin bol got ready to spit its venom at Aarrn who was still standing with his back to me, silhouetted against the sunlight pouring into the palace from deliberately-made holes far up in the coral walls.
The sunlight. I turned around 90 degrees just as the plaeryin bol launched it’s deadly toxin. The black liquid splattered around the wall of the damutek, which was unaffected. If I would’ve fired the poison at Aarrn, standing at the entrance to the alley, some of it would’ve inevitably missed him, and could’ve been seen by a passerby.
The Subaltern, healing the sound of the plaeryin bol’s attack, quickly spun around, amphistaff instantly in hand, and muscles readying into a combat stance.
“It’s okay,” I said, raising my hand. “That happens sometimes when I get angry, like I am at this ignot of a door.”
“Is there anything I can do to help, sir?”
“Try turning around and resuming your watch,” I commanded. Aarrn immediately did so, allowing his amphistaff to slither back onto his arm.
The plaeryin bol would need some rest before its next attack, and anyways, I still couldn’t fire at him without taking a risk of it being seen. I had to think of another plan, and fast. I reached into my robes, and started searching through the few creatures in my pockets. Finally, I found something that may be of use.
I quickly used my finger to make a line through the mossy floor beneath us. Once a convincing indent was made, I called to Aarrn, “Subaltern. Get over here, and help me with this door.”
The warrior turned around and quickly spotted the line in the moss. I bend over and pretended to be gripping the line like it was a hatch, being careful to hide the creature from my pocket in my right hand. Aarrn bent over and reached his own fingers into the line, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be pulling.
“On the count of three,” I said. “One... Two...” As soon as I inhaled the breath before three, I turned around and stabbed the Needle-Bug concealed in my hand into Aarrn’s right arm. The Needle-Bug had been filled with a paralyzant like the one I had used on Iln the previous day; it had been a backup in case something went wrong with the first one.
“What...” was all the Subaltern managed to say before his mouth froze in place. His eyes, however showed his anger at the betrayal.
Knowing that he would be paralyzed for the next few hours, I withdrew the Needle-Bug, and prepared to stab him again, this time through the head, and more than once. Although the small creature was out of poison, it was still sharp enough to be fata.
Right before the first stab, however, I felt a sudden pain my left foot. I dropped the Needle-Bug to the ground, and looked down to see that my attacker was Aarrn’s amphistaff, which was now injecting poison into my leg.
Luckily for me, when I was just learning the basics of shaping, I had injected myself with an implant inside my body, right next to my heart. The implant could sense any poisons in my system, and would quickly produce the antidote. The small creature had already saved my life more than once, and I had affectionately named him Leech.
When the poison had been countered, I reached inside another of my robeskin’s inner pockets and withdrew a small cup-shaped sponge. I had prepared for an encounter with an amphistaff, in fact it was the reason I had attacked Aarrn in the first place. I reached down and grabbed the Amphistaff by the neck, covering the small holes that acted as its nostrils. With no other choice besides dying, the snake-like weapon was forced to release it’s grip on my foot. As soon as it did so, I slipped the sponge cup over it’s head.
Knowing that Aarrn’s amphistaff would never obey me, his attacker, I had carefully designed the creature’s mask. It did nothing to impair any of the creature’s senses, except for the fact that the smell, sight, and sound, of me were all replaced by that of its former master. Tricked into thinking that I was him, the weapon would now be loyal to me.
I picked up the Amphistaff, and made it go rigid. I was sorry that I couldn’t take the Subaltern’s vonduun crab armor with me as well, but it wouldn’t fit in with my plans. Besides, it was already light out, and the quicker I moved the better.
There were many hidden ways out of the Supreme Overlord’s place. The one I planned to use was hidden behind a large statue of the twin gods. The weight of the statue had obviously damaged the structure under it, causing a small piece of the floor behind it to cave in. The shapers had left it to the moss to cover up the hole, although it had never re-grown properly.
But as I approached the large red statue, I noticed a figure sitting cross-legged in front of it.
“Priest,” I said as I approached the Yuuzhan Vong.
The priest opened his eyes and stared at me. “Warrior,” he responded.
I immediately regretted speaking. Perhaps if I had said nothing, his eyes would’ve remained close. Now I would have to dispose of him, one way or another. I cast a glance around to make sure no one was watching, and firmly gripped the amphistaff in my hand. “I wish to pray,” I said, thinking quickly. “Alone, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“There are other statues. I am meditating here. Although I promise not to listen if you don’t mind.”
I considered my options and quickly thought up a plan to deal with him. “Very well,” I agreed. As the priest closed his eyes and resumed his meditation, I walked around him and stopped when I was between his back and the statue of the lovers. I bowed down and slowly ripped a piece of my robeskin off.
Obviously not quiet enough, for the priest turned around and asked, “What are you doing?”
In response I turned around, and used my amphistaff to slash a cut across my forehead, right above my left eye. “I am praying, for the wellness of Lord Shimrra,” I said, and then covered the wound, and the eye beneath it with the piece of robeskin. The material oozed a healing liquid that relieved the pain from my wound, although I had not payed it much attention.
“Healing a sacrifice is an insult to the gods!” the priest cried.
I smiled at him, “Then it’s a good thing nobody will ever know.” I pulled the robeskin patch away from my eye and pushed it into the priest’s face before he had a chance to react. The poison on the patch, which I had fired from my plaeryin bol when it was against the robeskin, smeared all over his face, and left him gasping for air. As the poison slowly killed him, I dropped the piece of robeskin, and rushed down the hole, before anyone saw the confrontation, and would be able to connect me with the attack.
Although it was possible that I had just gave away the fact that I wasn’t dead, I didn’t have time to worry about it. I ran down the passage as quick as I could, making my way through to, and through, the underlevels of Yuuzhan’tar as quickly as possible. I spend the rest of the day, and today as well, searching for any sign of the heretic organization, or even just a lost Shamed One, but to no avail. I’ve found an abandoned vent where I believe I will be safe, that’s where I am now. I will continue with my search when I awaken, and I won’t stop until I find some sign of the Shamed Ones.
Until then, may the gods’ blessing be upon me,
K’raar Hool
-----signature-----
"The greatest reward is often the journey which brings you to it." -Someone Wise Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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NenYim
Registered:
Nov '04
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Date Posted:
5/5/05 5:06am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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You've done a great job with using the Yuuzhan Vong creatures to help him on his way. Fascinating post!
-----signature-----
Then you saved my life. How disgusting. How unfortunate.-Vua Rapuung Turn of Stars: http://boards.theforce.net/message.asp?topic=18086371&replies=1 rest of fics are in my bio Padawan of Spike2002
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Killik_Twilight
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Apr '05
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Date Posted:
5/5/05 7:44am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Good job, Lord_Zeron! Keep postin'!
KT
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"Those who have long enjoyed such privileges as we enjoy forget in time that
men have died to win them."
Franklin D. Roosevelt
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Lord_Zeron
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Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/7/05 11:09am
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
- Date Edited:
5/7/05 11:13am (1 edits total)
Edited By:
Lord_Zeron
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NenYim: Thank you. As I always say, Shapers will be Shapers. Actually, that's the first time I've said it, but it fits.
Killik Twilight: Thanks, I will. There's probably going to be just one more post, either tommorow or the day after.
Entry 4
Day 7: 14:09:43
It has been a long and hard search, but definitely worth it.
I awoke from my slumber on the night I recorded my last entry, and heard footsteps coming down the hallway, faint but definitely there. I peered out of my vent, located near the ceiling of the corridor, and spotted a green alien walking in my direction. It was an infidel with large, black eyes and two antennas on top of his head, whose species I knew not.
My plaeryin bol was now more than three-fourths depleted after the attacks against Subaltern Aarrn and the priest, and no longer had enough poison in it to launch. It contained a gland that would slowly regenerate the poison, but that would take days, time which I didn’t have.
I would have to use the amphistaff. I had welded one before, so I knew a little of how to use it. I had become friends with the warrior who watched over me and my creche-mates when I was young, and he had taken some of his free time to teach me the basics. I had occasionally managed to find or steal amphistaffs on several occasions since then, so I wasn’t completely out of practice, although it did surprise me how natural it felt after all the years since my last died.
I opted to wait until the alien was past me until I jumped out, and by the time he heard me, my amphistaff was at his throat, the entire creature’s body gone rigid.
The alien spattered something in some language I could only assume was native to his tongue since, even though I wasn’t an expert on infidel languages, it didn’t sound like what they called Basic.
I debated what to do with him, although eliminate was foremost in my mind. What happened next, embarrasses me to no limit. I have to admit, I was debating with myself whether or not to record it in this qahsa. But I’ve been as honest as possible thus far, so I might as well continue the trend. And besides, this journal can only be accessed by me or, if the fifty-year protocol is activated, I’ll long be gone, and will have no reason to care.
As I considered my options, the alien’s eyes suddenly widened larger than normal, and he appeared to be looking at something behind me. He said something in his language, and I fell for it. I turned around reflexively to see what he was looking at, and in that second the infidel delivered a sharp punch to my abdomen.
Wishing I had opted to take Aarrn’s Vonduun Crab Armor, I commanded the amphistaff to go into whip-mode and grabbed the creature before he was even a meter down the hallway. With a flick of my right wrist, which was connected to the hand holding the amphistaff, I brought the alien back towards me, as I raised my left arm to slice him with my implanted Tu’gaata spikes. I was startled to find them gone, however, and replaced by a tattoo of holy writing.
As I jumped back to avoid the alien’s second punch, and the amphistaff released its grip, something clicked in my brain. I was still wearing the Ooglith Masquell of the commander! But I had no time to think now. I lashed out with the whip-like weapon in my hands, and a scar appeared over the creatures green shoulder and down his back, his dirty clothes ripping as if they were as thin as the wings of blaze bugs.
I commanded the amphistaff to stiffen and, as my enemy screamed in the pain of his wound, and I frowned at his clearly-displayed weakness, slashed his right arm cleanly off its shoulder. My second slash neatly cut off his head, which fell to the ground along with the rest of his body.
I allowed the amphistaff to soften again, and slither up my arm. With my left hand, I stroked the sensitive area on the side of my nose, and the commander-like Masquell instantly peeled away from my body. I tucked the creature back into my robes, and decided to take a quick inventory of everything at my disposal.
I was still wearing the white, although no longer spotless, robeskin, and the amphistaff on my right arm. Inside of the former’s inner pockets I had two Masquells and an unused gnullith, a creature that could produce air for a short time. Besides them, I had only my various implants, among them the Tu’gatta spikes, my anti-poison organ named Leech, and my mostly depleted plaeryin bol. All in all, not much to work with, but I hoped it would be enough.
I decided to equip the other Ooglith Masquell, and I once again took on the appearance of the Shamed One Raamr Iln. I proceeded to wander the underlevels for the rest of that day, and the next as well, taking only a few hour nap in between.
Noticing that I was tired, and the qahsa told me that it was getting dark on the surface over a kilometer above me, I decided to look for yet another hiding place where I could rest. I located an apartment complex that had been abandoned long before the fall of Coruscant. Most of the rooms were covered in plants, of both Coruscant and Yuuzhan’tar origin. Although I knew I could’ve slept in the mouth of Maaw Lur, as tired as I was, I decided to take the stairs up to the top floor and see if any of the luxury suites were any better.
When I arrived, however, I found that they were no better than the floor beneath them, much to my dismay. I chose the most comforting of the rooms as my temporary quarters, but decided to search the other rooms to make sure the place was safe.
As I finished checking the room marked P03, and moved on to the one next to it, I noticed that it was labeled P05. I knew enough Basic to comprehend that room number P04 was missing. I spun around to see if it was perhaps on the other wall, but found only rooms P06, P07, and P08. Momentarily confused by this situation, I turned back to the wall, and quickly spotted the solution.
A large amount of vines had grown along the side of the hallway, in between suites P03 and P05. The vines were of Yuuzhan Vong origin, and would secrete a self-defense poison unless stroked properly. Luckily, being a shaper, I knew this simple procedure. I gently stroked the vines, and pushed them aside, to find the door-less entryway to P04.
I walked inside, and was dumbstruck by what I was looking at. The main living area I was standing in looked nothing like those of the other suites. The entire room had been cleared of any signs of the infidels, and for a second I thought I had walked into a Yuuzhan Vong dwelling. The walls and floor were covered with the soft moss used in the floors of many Yuuzhan Vong structures, and the ceiling was comprised of bioluminescent lichen.
In the center of the dwelling, arranged in an equilateral triangle, were three very small buildings, each only about a meter and a half high, curricular, and almost three meters in diameter. They appeared to be made out of Yorik Coral.
I took in all of this in a single glance, and then concentrated my gaze on the Shamed One standing at the other side of the room, tossing a small rock in the air to entertain herself. Upon seeing me, she quickly let the rock fall to the floor and yelled. “Intruder! Intruder!”
I tensed, and the Amphistaff slithered down to my arm so that it was just barely covered by the sleeve of my robeskin, where it could be in my hand at any moment.
Five other Shamed Ones quickly entered the room; three through a door to the right which appeared to lead to what once had been a infidel bedroom, the other two came out of two of the small buildings in the main room. The Shamed One at the back of the room quickly picked up her rock, and drew a Coufee shaped from yorik coral off of her belt.
“Who are you?” she asked, advancing towards me.
“I am a Shame One, like yourselves. I did not mean to intrude.”
“Are you banished?” another asked.
“I escaped from my masters if that is what you mean,” I replied.
The Shamed One with the coufee turned towards one of the others. “Go get Tlekel. His hearing is not what it used to be.”
The Shamed One gave a nod of understanding, and rushed into the door on the left, which leaded into what I assumed to have once been a restroom.
“Why are you here?” the Yuuzhan Vong with the coufee asked.
“It was an accident. I was looking for a place to sleep,” I said, being sure to make my voice weak and feeble, like that of the real Iln and many of the Shamed Ones. The female before me, however, didn’t seem to share that same weak voice, and stood slightly more erect than most of her kind, as if she was not embarrassed of her stature, both socially and height-wise.
She replied with a nod, and turned her gaze to the door to the restroom. A moment later the Shamed One returned, along with another. The new arrival was very old, at least two or three decades older than myself, by the looks of him. He had a few implants on him, indicating that he had once been of semi-high rank, including his right, eight-fingered, hand, which was decaying as I watched. He had once been a shaper, and a master at that.
“Who is this?” he asked, pointing a wrinkled finger at me. His voice remained strong, although he had to squint to get a good look at me.
“A new arrival, Tlekel,” the female with the coufee answered. “I did not ask his name.”
“Oh,” I said. I quickly thought up a name, and said, “I am-”
“Raamr Iln!” the old man called Tlekel exclaimed. I was surprised he knew my appearance, and was glad I had not spoken the false name.
“Do I know you?” I said, tipping my head to one side, trying to look like I was attempting to remember.
“Raamr! Do you not remember me?” Tlekel asked. When I still didn’t answer, he said, “I am one of your own domain!”
“I am sorry,” I replied, my brain racing to think of a solution. “I lost my memory a while back, and can recall only the events of the last two years.”
“A shame,” the old man said, shaking his head slowly. “But I am still glad to see you again. Perhaps you too can see the light of the Jeedai.”
I smiled inside. “Jeedai?” I widened my eyes to look both surprised and happy. “Are you among the heretics? If so, I would be more than happy to join you.”
Tlekel gave a small smile. “And we would be overjoyed to have you,” he replied. Judging by the fact that none of the others argued, and the female put her coufee away, it appeared the Tlekel was some sort of leader.
“Tlekel,” a short male said, stepping forward. “I have a great idea. Why don’t we take him to the preaching tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Tlekel said, obviously approving the idea. “Then you, Rammr, can hear the words of our prophet. You can hear the words of truth.”
I had done it. I was on my way to joining the heretics, my dream was coming true. One of the Shamed Ones shared his Yurrum, their word for the strange yorik coral structures, with me. It is now the day after, and we are preparing to meet with this prophet, the leader of the heretics. The others are all busy elsewhere, so this is the first privacy I’ve had to record this journal. I can hear footsteps approaching now. It is time for us to leave, and for me to take my rightful place among the ranks of the heretics.
Until then, may the gods’ blessing be upon me,
K’raar Hool
-----signature-----
"The greatest reward is often the journey which brings you to it." -Someone Wise Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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Lord_Zeron
Registered:
Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/11/05 5:55pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Sorry this post took so long; Darth Real Life strikes again. I couldn't fit the rest of the story into a single post, so there's going to be at least one more entry after this one.
Entry 5
Day 11: 20:52:50
Needless to say I’m not dead, although I did come very close.
Before we left, Tlekel took the time to tell us all the story of a Shamed One named Vua Rapuung who fought alongside the jedi Anakin Solo. All of us listened with ears wide open, making sure to catch each of Tlekel’s soft words as he told the story, although I suspected the others had heard the story before. He concluded by telling us that this was only the version that he had heard, and that we would not know of the true version until the Prophet, Yu’shaa, told it to us at the preaching.
I was then led through a maze of passageways, stairs, and rooms as we proceeded to the hidden location of the Prophet’s audience chamber. By the time we finally reached the moss-covered doors that were the entrance to Yu’shaa’s compound, we had been walking for over an hour.
Two Shamed Ones stood tall and proud to the either side of the door. As we approached, one of them asked, “Name?”
“Tlekel Iln,” the old ex-shaper said.
The Shamed One gave a nod and opened the door next to him. The eight of us entered, and found ourselves in a large hall, that appeared to have once been the lobby of some sort of entertainment center, probably made for what the infidels called “Holovids.”
Other Shamed Ones were already gathered as well, at least dozens of them. We moved into the room and stood next to the others, who were all chattering among themselves in excited voices. The others all quickly joined into the grand conversation, but I remained by myself, silently organizing my thoughts before the audience with the Prophet.
Over the next hour or two, more and more Shamed Ones continued to file into the hall. I had never seen this many Shamed Ones before, or perhaps I had and just hadn’t paid them any attention. Either way, I was dumfounded by the site of the Yuuzhan Vong in the room. These heretics were indeed a force to be reckoned with. What they may have lacked in quality, they had in quantity and somewhere, deep in side of me, a fear that the heretics would not be enough was extinguished.
Finally, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, the double-doors at the other end of the lobby opened, and four figures emerged. I stood up on my toes to get a better view, but most of the others in the room were doing the same, cancelling out each other’s efforts.
From what I could glimpse however, two of the four were standing in the front. The one to the left was obviously an ex-warrior, and most likely only recently Shamed, judging by his militaristic posture. He was adorned in simple clothes instead of the typical armor of the warrior caste.
Next to him, to my right but his left, stood what looked like a priest. Although it was obvious from his appearance that he was shamed, he wore robes almost exactly like those of the priest case, except without the symbol of Yun-Yuuzhan on his chest. Behind them stood two more Shamed Ones, each wearing a green robe like the one standing next to the ex-warrior.
The ex-warrior raised a hand for quiet, although there was really no need. The room was as silent as death, everyone waiting for the warrior to speak.
“Attention, my brothers,” the warrior began in a loud, strong voice. “Before you enter the great hall to meet with the Prophet, you must first be instructed in how to act during the audience.”
The warrior proceeded to tell us how to act, and how the meeting would start. After two successful practices, we were finally allowed to enter the hall of the Prophet.
As I walked through the large double-doors, I found myself in a room even larger than the last. The Shamed Ones quickly expanded to fill all of the reaches of the hall, from the throne-like chair in the front, to the doors in the back. The chair itself was covered with a variety of multi-colored mosses, giving it an almost magical look. In the chair sat a figure, Yu’shaa, who had more failed implants than I had ever seen before. On his face, he wore a mask, which was adorned with so many scars and tattoos, I suspected even Shimrra would’ve been jealous.
I tried my best to be near the front of the large group, and succeeded in finding a position in about the second row.
When everyone was quiet, the Prophet gave a long, expectant nod. As we had all been instructed, this was the signal for us to begin the meeting.
“The story, Yu’shaa. Tell us the story,” we said to him in unison. It was as if we were one voice, one soul, one mind; the mind of the Shamed Ones. “Tell us about the Jeedai.”
“Who asks?” the Prophet responded, just as the ex-warrior said he would.
We all took a collective breath, and answered, “We do, Yu’shaa. We are the Shamed Ones, and we come to you for wisdom.”
The Prophet slowly stood out of his majestic chair. He raised his hands to the mask covering his face. He slowly took it away, obviously symbolizing the removing of the old ways from the Yuuzhan Vong. But as he dropped the mask to the floor, casting it down where it could never return, my jaw almost dropped at what I was seeing.
None of those in the hall, excluding me, would’ve ever seen an Ooglith Masquer before, at least not while in use. But I had, I had studied them day in and day out for months in order to perfect my Masquell. And so I recognized at once that Yu’shaa, or whatever his real name was, was also wearing a Masquer.
“I have received a vision, a vision from the gods,” the Prophet announced. “A vision of worlds where us, the shamed, can live our lives in glory, shameless, and with anything we could ever possibly desire.”
“But as I gazed upon these worlds, a dark shadow came between it and me. It was a huge, black shadow. Its eyes were made of rainbows, and its hands were covered in blood. The gods oppose this shadow, and thus they sent their might warriors to bring it down. You know the names of these warriors.”
As I listened to the story, absorbed by the Prophet’s words, I found my voice rising with that of those around me. “Jeedai!” we cried, joy lifting in our hearts.
Yu’shaa nodded, and then leaned forward, as if he was about to tell us something top secret, something he would share with only those he trusted. “Yes, the gods had sent the Jeedai to vanquish the evil shadow, and to guide us to this great paradise. For many weeks and months the battle rages, the dark warriors of the rainbow-eyed one on one side, and the guardians of the gods on the other. Darkness fell upon the galaxy, and it seemed like the war was hopelessly lost. The Yuuzhan Vong had turned their back on the gods, for we served the evil shadow.
“But even when it seemed that all hope was lost, that all of us were doomed for all of eternity, that the rainbow-eyed one would never fall, the gods gave me strength. They gave me hope, which I pass onto you, for, as I watched the dark one give a long, victorious laugh, the grasses of the fields suddenly turned on the shadowy one. They wrapped themselves around his legs, and pulled him down to the ground. They then tightened their grip, and pulled and strangled the very life out of the dark menace, and the great land was free once again!
“Do you see what the gods were saying to me? They were telling us that alone we are weak, but together, like the many blades of grass, we are strong!”
That brought a cheer from the crowd, and a smile across my face. When the noise had once again quieted, Yu’shaa resumed his words of wisdom. “Let us be the grass and twine that drag down the black giant! Let us destroy him and his evil ways, and we can be free once and for all!
This brought a second cheer from the crowd, and the Prophet waited almost a full minute to give his followers time to think about his words. Finally, he began again. “How many of you have met a Jeedai before? How many of you have heard this great message from their mouths, and in their own tongue?”
No one answered yes, and I wasn’t surprised. Although one would be hard pressed to find a Yuuzhan Vong who hadn’t heard of the jedi, very few actually had met one before, and lived to tell the tale.
When no one answered, the Prophet gave a slight smile. Dismissing the question, he said. “I have met the Jeedai. I have seen the twins and their power, I have witnessed the one-who-was-shaped, and I witnessed the death of one of, if not the, greatest of the Jeedai. I have heard the truth from their own lips, and listened to their wisdom. I have done this so that I may pass the truth onto you, my brothers, so that our people may once again be free.”
From there, we proceeded to listen to the tale of Vua Rapuung and Anakin Solo again, this time the “true” version, although who was to say this one was real, I didn’t know. When it was over, he finished with a few meaningful words.
“And there the Jeedai heresy might have ended,” Yu’shaa said. “If it had not been witnessed by the Shamed Ones watching from the edge of the battle –by the shapers’ damutek. They spread the Message –and to this day the message continues to spread, from mouth to ear among those like us. There is another way, a way that leads to acceptance, and a new word for hope: Jeedai.”
“I shall answer your questions now,” the Prophet said after a few moments, as he leaned back in his multi-colored chair.
A female in the front row was the first to answer. “Is the war what the gods want?” she asked.
Yu’shaa steepled his fingers. “The war itself is not wrong. The problem is that we are fighting the wrong war. While we should be rebelling against those who cast us down, those who keep us in the prisons of our own will, we instead fight the Jeedai, who have done nothing but tried to free us. Nor should we fight those the Jeedai ally themselves with, since they are also only trying to bring us freedom. Instead of continuing this pointless war, we must be ready to revolt when the Jeedai come to free us.”
As soon as I was sure he was done, I called out my next question. There were many of them rushing through my head, and I was overwhelmed with the decision of which one to choose. I quickly decided however, “Did the gods create the infidels?”
“Yes,” Yu’shaa quickly answered. “The gods created all things, the infidels included. Although they may not side with the infidels, they must’ve had a goal in mind for them.”
“Is it possible that the infidels were made to teach us our own faults?”
The Prophet seemed to think about this for a moment. “Yes, the gods may indeed intend for us to learn from the inhabitants of this galaxy. I suppose it is possible, even likely. However, we must always remember that we never know the gods’ plan. To the gods we are microscopic creatures. And could one such creature ever begin to understand your will?”
“No, Yu’shaa,” I said, before quickly realizing that the question had been rhetorical, and had not been addressed at me. I quickly recovered by asking, “Can the Yuuzhan Vong be saved?”
For a moment, as I gazed into the Prophet’s eyes, I saw something that looked like recognition pass over them. But why would the Prophet recognize me?
The expression quickly passed, and the Prophet answered, in almost a hurried tone, “Yes, I believe we do still stand a chance of achieving salvation. But in order to be redeemed in the eyes of the gods, we must rise up from our lowly position, and force the elite to see us as equals instead of slaves.
“My people, I fear for your safety. If word of this message was to ever leak into the ears of those we despise, it would mean the death of our organization for sure. So go from this place, and spread the message, but be careful who you tell. For although a single shout is easily silenced, a sea of whispers continues to spread.”
With that said, the Prophet gave a nod to his audience, the signal that the preaching was over. We all turned around, and the large crowd slowly pushed its way out of the room. Having been near the front of the audience, I was also one of the last to leave.
Once I was in the lobby outside of the audience chamber, I looked around for Tlekel Iln, and the rest of the gang. Finally, spotting them, I started to push my way through the large crowd.
I had almost reached them when a firm hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder, and I reflexively spun around to face its owner, my plaeryin bol preparing to fire if necessary. To my surprise, however, I found my self face-to-face with the ex-warrior who had briefed us before the preaching.
“Come with me,” he said firmly, but not threateningly.
I turned around to Tlekel and told him, “I can find my way back later. Go on without me.”
The old Shamed One gave a slight nod of understanding. “We will see you there then, Raamr.”
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked the warrior as he started to lead me through the departing crowd.
He smiled, revealing pointed teeth. “To meet with Yu’shaa, of course.”
I’m going to end this entry here, since I’m tired and need my rest. Although more has happened since then, I’ll add it in with my next entry.
Until then, may the gods’ blessing be upon me,
K’raar Hool
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"The greatest reward is often the journey which brings you to it." -Someone Wise Links to all my stories can be found at The Sith Archives: http://www.freewebs.com/lord_zeron/
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Darth_Voltres
Registered:
Apr '04
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Date Posted:
5/11/05 6:15pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Sweet story. I love the NJO novels and this relates to them very well. Awesome story!
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Lord_Zeron
Registered:
Mar '05
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Date Posted:
5/18/05 8:00pm
Subject:
RE: For the Gods (Short Story, YV, During NJO)
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Thanks, Darth Voltres.
I hope everyone has enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. As always, all feedback is appriciated. Here's the last entry.
Entry 6
Day 18: 22:58:03
I’ll continue where I left off in my last entry, and proceed until I get to the point where I am now.
The ex-warrior led me back into the audience chamber, and the two Shamed guards immediately parted to let us through. I was then led to a door near the back of the room, which in turn led to what had once been an emergency evacuation route, during the time when the audience chamber had been a holovid theater.
Judging from what little I had learned of the layout of the Coruscant underlevels, every “building” -which just meant a section of the un-divided labyrinth of durasteel- had at least one entrance to an evacuation hallway, which would travel along the back of the buildings. A network of such routes twisted their way through most of the underlevels, so that, during an emergency, public citizens could easily escape into a safer area.
Now, I was being led through just a single emergency hallway, which was cut off from the network by a cave-in at one end, and a dead end at the other. The ex-warrior walked up to one of the other doors leading into, or out of, the small corridor, and pushed it open.
We were now in what appeared to be a floor of a long-abandoned apartment building. The ex-warrior led me to one of the rooms, gave three knocks on its door, waited a moment, and then knocked again.
The door opened to reveal a room covered by various mosses and other plants native to Yuuzhan’tar, although I did not see anyone in the room.
As the ex-warrior and I walked into the room, the door closed behind me and I turned around to find myself fact to face with the Prophet.
“Yu’shaa!” I said in surprise, quickly raising my fists to my shoulders in salute. The Prophet walked over to a moss-covered chair, which wasn’t nearly as colorful as the one in the audience chamber, and sat down.
“What is your name?” Yu’shaa asked me.
“Raamr Iln,” I replied. It was then I noticed something about the Prophet’s left eye. When his right eye turned to look to the ex-warrior standing at the door, and then back at me, his other eye didn’t move with it. I took a closer look and quickly realized why; like me, the Prophet had a plaeryin bol implant.
“Very well, Raamr, how were you Shamed?”
“I have been a Shamed One since birth,” I replied, hoping that I remembered the real Iln’s history properly.
Yu’shaa gave a nod, but I wasn’t sure that he believed me. “Tell me, why do you wish to join the heretics?”
“Because the Yuuzhan Vong, or the elites at any rate, have betrayed the gods. They ignore common sense, and only believe in the gods when it fits their own motives.”
“Explain.”
“They are using the gods, instead of obeying their will. For example, they say that the gods have Shamed us, because of our failed implants. Some of us do not even have failed implants, and are Shamed by birth. And how do we even know that the gods frown on those with failed implants? Because the Supreme Overlord say it’s so? And who says that he is right? The Supreme Overlord! He has total power, even that to defy the gods for personal gain. I will not stand for this, and I wish to do whatever I can to bring down the elites, and hopefully redeem the Yuuzhan Vong in the eyes of the gods.”
“One more question,” Yu’shaa said. “Would you die for our cause?”
“It depends,” I answered. When the Prophet didn’t say anything, I quickly added. “I would die for the cause only if the same objective could not be accomplished in life. If there was any possible way to live and complete the objective, I would do so, and live to complete more goals later in life.”
“What if I was to ask you to Martyr yourself?” Yu’shaa asked. That was two more questions, when he had said one, but I didn’t object.
“I would probably see if it were possible to fake my own death,” I replied, hoping that I hadn’t just signed my own death sentence. To my great surprise however, Yu’shaa smiled.
“Congratulations, Raamr. You have indeed seen the light of the jedi, and will be a great addition to our cause. I have a proposition for you, but first, I would like your real name.”
He knew. And I knew he knew, and just wasn’t guessing. I now knew that the look of recognizing that had passed over his face back in the audience chamber hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. He did know who I was, and I knew why, for I knew who he was. My first clue should’ve been the plaeryin bol, not a common implant, and almost unheard of among the lower castes. But what had truly tipped me off was, not his voice, but the fact that he had said the word jedi, not Jeedai. And there was only one Yuuzhan Vong, as far as I knew, that could speak Basic without an accent.
“Nom Anor,” I said, voicing my thoughts. His sudden smile confirmed my suspicions. Behind me, I felt the ex-warrior tense, but there was nothing I could do. Either they would kill me or they wouldn’t; the decision was no longer mine.
“I’ll repeat the question,” Nom Anor said. “What is your real name?”
Confident that he already knew the answer, I replied by touching the sensitive are on the side of my nose. The Ooglith Masquell peeled away from my skin, and fell to the floor. “K’raar Hool.”
“I thought it was you,” Anor replied. “It is good to see you again after so many years. But getting right to the point, I have an offer for you.”
“So you said,” I replied. “What is it?”
Yu’shaa/Nom Anor smiled. “There are certain disciples who I choose to aid me in my cause. Some are chosen by Kunra.” He nodded at the ex-warrior by the door. “Others by Shoon-mi, my high acolyte. And still others are personally picked by me, these I choose for a special task. You see, K’raar, I am only one person, and can only be in one place at one time. So I have chosen a select few to disguise themselves as me. Since I only give such positions to those I trust, I am extending the offer to you.”
I knew that if I said no, the warrior called Kunra would probably kill me on the spot, but that wasn’t the reason why I replied, “Yes, Yu’shaa. I would be honored.”
“Good,” Anor said. He walked to a closet and pulled out a medium-sized case. “This is what I call the Prophet Pack. In it you will find everything you need to become me. Instructions are also provided, as is a map to the location where you will set up your audience chamber. I will also be leaving to another area, to ensure that I never stay in any one place for too long. Four acolytes are waiting back in the audience chamber. They will do their best to serve you and, to them, you are Yu’shaa. There’s a Masquer in your case identical to mine, so put it on and get going. There is no time to waste.”
Wow, he really did get right to the point. “Yes, Prophet,” I said with a bow. “I will not fail you.” I picked up the “Prophet Pack,” and left into the emergency hallway, Kunra close behind me.
When I opened it up, I found the map and instructions Nom Anor had told me about, along with a villip, an Ooglith Masquer, and a few other organisms necessary for the task, including spores of the same type of moss that I had seen on the back of the Prophet’s throne.
After securing the Ooglith Masquer of Yu’shaa onto my face, I went back to the audience chamber, to find the four acolytes already there, just as Nom Anor had said they would be, and adorned in green priest-like robes.
“Follow me,” I said, trying my best to imitate the voice of Nom Anor. It obviously worked, since the four Shamed Ones immediately began pacing behind me. When we were a safe distance away from the abandoned Holovid theater, I laid the “Prophet Pack,” down and pulled out the map and instructions. The location where me and my acolytes would set up was at least a week’s worth of walking away. The Acolytes each carried a coufee and, with my amphistaff, we managed to hunt enough to survive. Water was hard to come by, so we filled up whenever we came across a newly-made river, stream, or puddle.
Every night, judging by how tired we were, we made camp anywhere we could find. Luckily, after a few days, I managed to get a room of my own, which was where I recorded my last entry. The next day, which was six days ago according to my qahsa, was the day that, at least in my mind, marked the end of my old life, and the beginning of the new.
The five of us were walking through an extremely large room, that appeared to be some sort of museum. Ancient-looking artifacts were scattered about the floor, and the ceiling above appeared to have started crumbling.
As I was admiring half of a painting -the other half was nowhere to be seen- I suddenly noticed something out of the corner of my eye. It was just a flicker of movement, probably a trick of the dim lights, but it was enough to catch my attention.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What was what?” one of the acolytes replied.
“I thought I saw something over there,” I said pointing to a large, transparasteel case. One of the acolytes moved around it to take a look, just as an amphistaff head pierced his neck.
My own amphistaff was out in a minute, even before the acolyte’s body hit the ground. A second later, a figure jumped out from behind the case, snake-like weapon held stiff in both hands. I recognized his face immediately: Subaltern Aarrn.
He took a leap at me, and I raised my own amphistaff to parry. But before he could reach me, another figure, one of the acolytes, leapt at Aarrn and tackled him out of my path. The acolyte pinned Aarrn down at the floor, kneeling on his chest and pinning his arms to his sides. I raised my amphistaff, and prepared to slice off Aarrn’s hand, but the Subaltern had already delivered a sharp kick to the acolyte’s stomach, sending him flying, and rolled to my right before my amphistaff could make contact.
While I pulled my amphistaff out of the ground, which it had hit so hard the metal actually cracked, Aarrn rolled farther away, and jumped to his feet.
He slashed at me with his weapon, but by then mine was already up to block his. His weapon quickly turned to whip form, and wrapped itself around mine. Being untrained in advanced combat, I stood there wondering what to do, as Aarrn gave his amphistaff a sharp yank, pulling mine right out of my hands and sending it scattering across the floor to the opposite side of the museum. As the warrior’s amphistaff straitened back into stiff position, I quickly backed out of range. I thought of using my plaeryin bol, but I decided to save it as a last resort. Besides, it still hadn’t had a lot of time to regenerate its poison, so for all I knew it might not even work.
Another figure lept out of nowhere, one of the female acolytes, as she threw a punch at Aarrn’s head. The warrior was too fast though; he took his right arm off of his amphistaff and used it to grab hers. But she wasn’t ready to give up. The acolyte pulled back, out of her opponent’s grasp, and kicked him hard in the stomach. His vonduun crab armor protected him from harm, but the force was still enough to send him stumbling backwards, and tripping over my amphistaff, whose hood still made it think that he was me and I was him.
The Subaltern managed to catch himself before completely falling, however, and he turned | |