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Topic:
Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
Registered:
Apr '00
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Date Posted:
3/28/06 9:15pm
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 3/28
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Thanks for the feedback.
Yeah, Shaylear's starting to realize just exactly what her role will be as this game plays out...but will she be able to handle it? Will Dalan be able to handle it? Will the Vong be able to handle it?
So many questions...
But for now, let's see how the other team's doing...
“He is growing.”
Known for her savage libido and sadistic disposition, Greatl still cowered in respectful fear at the voice of the one she now approached. His back turned to her, she could thankfully not behold his scarred, macabre visage. The leather cape he wore all but concealed any other of his features to her, giving him an air of sinister mystery.
Without turning, the figure spoke again. “I assume you’ve come out of your playroom to tell me something important?”
“Y…Yes, Master,” replied Greatl. “I…I’ve completed my analysis of the blood sample and I’ve found something…interesting.”
At this, the figure finally and fully turned. Greatl’s eyes flickered only for a moment at the tortured visage that stared back at her. The face was deeply scarred and mutilated…the result of many a great battle and an iron will to survive. His armour, scratched and pitted, was an eternal reminder of the scores of enemies who tried…and failed.
“Show me,” he said, his voice sickly sweet and calm.
Greatl produced the coral bowl, which was now only half-full of blood. She then produced what looked like a folded leaf of some sort. When she opened up the leaf, the figure noted the yellowish powder within. “Some kind of pollen?” he asked.
“Yes, Master,” replied the Shaper. “Extracted from the flower we have seen on this world. Observe.” She tilted the leaf, letting the grains of pollen drop into the vessel of blood. Moments later, the blood began to boil violently as it reacted to the pollen’s presence. It frothed up and threatened to spill out of the vessel before finally settling back down…and turning from a vibrant red to a dark, ichorous black.
“Impressive,” said the figure. “I can also assume that this is not a mere isolated example?”
“No, Master,” replied Greatl. “The pollen seems to only interact with one part of the subject’s blood…the same part shared by all our enemies.”
“Most impressive.” The figure turned away and stared back towards an opening in the wall…one that looked over to a large, distant crater. “Now, perhaps you can shed some insight onto our friend’s unexpected growth.”
“I have given the matter much thought, Master,” said the Shaper. “It seems that this flower possesses some unique psychotropic properties. The creatures that inhabit this world feed off of them exclusively, using it to reinforce their bonds to their Queen.”
“Who is now dead.”
“Yes…but it does explain the growth of the Yammosk.” Graetl moved up beside the figure. “By feeding on this flower, it has expanded its own abilities, and has grown accordingly to accommodate its newfound power. I have projected and end-point to its growth, though, and from there we can turn the flower to our own purposes.”
“Such as?”
“As a weapon, we could send the pollen raining down on the worlds of our enemies,” said Greatl. “Once they have all succumbed, we are free to do with the worlds as we please. Further, after a few dozen populaces are decimated, any resistance would quickly realize their folly and surrender.” Thoughts of such massive destruction made the Shaper quiver once more.
“Hmmm…” The figure mused. Just then, a high-ranking soldier entered the room, carrying what looked to be an official communiqué from someone. The figure turned and the soldier instantly shrank back. “What is it?” he asked.
“Master,” the soldier stated. “A member of the Corellain Peace Brigade has sent us this.” He held up the document – a piece of actual parchment no doubt written with blood.
“Begging your pardon, Master,” interrupted Greatl. “I sent word to the Peace Brigade to help identify the two who fought alongside the creatures during our strike on the Hive.” She took the parchment and scanned over it quickly before handing it to the figure.
He read the document slowly, a smile twisting on his deformed lips that soon became a grin so sinister, even Greatl felt fearful. “It would appear the gods are truly working in our favour,” he said, handing the parchment back to Greatl. He then looked at the soldier. “Inform our operatives on Corellia to ‘reward’ our allies fairly. They have done us a great service.”
The soldier bowed in compliance and quickly left the room. Greatl watched him go, knowing full well those Peace Brigade members would only receive an amphistaff to the neck for their betrayal of their race. Still, compared to what was about to happen to the galaxy, their deaths would be considered an act of mercy.
“Shaper,” said the figure. “What of your other specimens…the ones belonging to the native race?”
“O…only the more evolved ones are still alive,” replied Greatl. “And only barely at that.”
“Have them prepared to deliver a message,” said the figure, turning back towards the Shaper once more. “A message to the slayer of Nom Anor that not only has the time of his death come…but it has come at the hands of Tsavong Lah himself.”
“Right away, Warmaster,” said Greatl, turning to leave. “What of the Jee-dai?”
The Vong Warmaster sneered sadistically. “Make her suffering part of the message.”
Greatl shivered erotically.
DUN DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN 
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Casper_Knightshade
Registered:
Oct '00
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Date Posted:
3/30/06 5:40pm
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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Oh, I definately have my suspicions on the Jee-dai.
But ah-oh: The Vong have the inside track on the Invids. And ironically since the Vong like to use natural, occurring things to achieve their means to an end.....
The Invids could possibly become a true threat to the galaxy, unless Dalen and the rest become aware of it.
FORWARD! Great writing, Whiskey!
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"I recommend less salt."
- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
Registered:
Apr '00
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Date Posted:
3/31/06 8:44am
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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Thanks again 
According to the story (in the books, on TV, and in the RPG manuals), the Invid were actually a peace-loving, docile race, until two things happened:
1. The Queen fell in love with a Robotech Master scientist
2. The Robotech Masters all but destroyed the Invid homeworld, driving their Queen fully and completely insane.
Now, of course I took a HUGE dose of artistic license when I started using them, relying more on an old RPG my friends and I used to play, in which Dalan was involved. I like how they've turned out, though...and I'm really gonna love them soon. 
As for the Vong, it'd be kinda interesting to see an Invid soldier in some kind of coral exoskeleton...hmmm...
More coming soon...
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Casper_Knightshade
Registered:
Oct '00
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Date Posted:
4/13/06 1:27pm
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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To UP this thread, I will say this:
HAPPY (Flips through online Calendar) Bak Full Moon Poya Day!
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- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Casper_Knightshade
Registered:
Oct '00
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Date Posted:
4/26/06 10:44am
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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ROBOTECH, TO THE RESCUE!!!!!!!!!!!!
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7/18/2008
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
Registered:
Apr '00
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Date Posted:
5/2/06 2:49pm
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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Well, as I posted in my blog, my hard drive at home decided to lock up on me, which has now cost me an awful lot of work. As it is, I had to copy and paste my last two posts from here just to recover that much from SIASL.
Thankfully I remember how I wanted the next post to go, so once my machine is off the disabled list I'll be able to post again. Man, I hate when this happens to me. 
Until then...FORWARD!
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
Registered:
Apr '00
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Date Posted:
5/5/06 11:28pm
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/5 - End of Chapter 17
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OOOOOOOOOKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
So I'm off the disabled list, got a new chair, and I'm ready to get back into this story. YAY!
To say thanks to all the readers I'm putting in one hella big post to keep y'all happy happy.
Enjoy!
He’d lost track of the hours. How could one possibly hope to keep time in such a maze?
From the stasis chamber, Dalan and the Invid had since traversed down numerous tunnels, jumped down to deeper and deeper levels via the strange plants (all revived by Shaylear’s mere touch), and walked through no less than a dozen more chambers filled with sleeping Invid warriors. By the tiger’s estimate, the Queen had placed no less than a hundred thousand Invid in stasis, waiting for something to happen. Now, with her murder at the hands of the Yuuzhan Vong, they would continue sleeping until the Vong came for them.
He wondered briefly if they’d ever truly awaken from this state, or would their souls simply move onto the next life as their bodies were used to bolster the Vong ranks. Until crashing on this planet he’d been convinced the Invid had no real souls to speak of. However, as he walked hand in hand with their new Queen, he knew that they possessed more than he or any of his former comrades could have ever imagined.
“We are getting close now,” said Shaylear, breaking the silence of the moment. “I can feel it.”
“Closer to what, Mistress?” asked Azar, whose movements and demeanour had changed dramatically over the journey. He seemed anxious…agitated, and Dalan supposed he was worried about his brothers topside.
“We are nearing the heart of the Hive,” she said, excitement in her voice. “I…I cannot explain it, but it seems the closer we get to the center, the more I’m remembering.”
“Makes sense,” remarked Dalan. “By keeping everything on a need-to-know basis, this place could stay hidden until the right time.”
“Could the Queen have known she would end?” asked Azar. Dalan could only shrug in reply. His time with the Jedi had done a great deal in teaching him about foresight and prescience, so it was entirely possible the old Queen had seen this day coming.
Prescience was something with which Dalan often wrestled. To admit that someone could see so far into the future suggested that things like destiny and fate were not only real, but that free will was little more than a fantasy. After all, what was the use of believing one’s life would turn out a certain way when in fact that person’s story had already been written down and was merely being acted out?
Few people actually explored this kind of question, and those who did were usually hopped up on a significant number of drugs. Perhaps that was for the best…leave everyone to believe their lives are their own, while only a few enlightened beings were given the gift to see the true machinations of the universe. Of course, there was always the old Jedi stand-by phrase that the future was always in motion and changing. Such a phrase was seen as an excuse by some, and Dalan often wondered if it was a prescient mind’s way of offering hope to someone’s whose fate was sealed.
Emerging from yet another tunnel the group came into a comparatively smaller chamber than the others they’d seen. Aside from its size, the room was filled with a warm, soft glow from some low-powered light sticks on one end. The lights seemed to frame something in between them, and Dalan knelt to see what it was.
His green eyes widened as he gazed upon the small monument before him. It was a small thing, maybe half a metre in size and composed of the same composite out of which Invid armour is made.
“What is it?” asked Shaylear.
“Some sort of monument,” replied the tiger, brushing away some of the dust. “Aurabesh,” he breathed, recognizing the glyphs on the marker. “A series of names, from the looks of it. Hmmm….”
“What does it say?” asked the tigress, leaning in.
“Let’s see.” Dalan brushed off the remaining dust and beheld the letters before him. It took a moment for him to translate the symbols into a language he understood, and slowly read it out loud for everyone to hear:
In memoriam to my fallen comrades…my Masters…my brother and sister…my father and mother…my friends.
Master Kwai-Shang Korr, a gentler soul one could not ask for.
Master Halaina Beaufrin…only her beauty surpassed her ability
Be at peace, my masters…Be at one with the Force
“By the gods,” breathed Dalan. “This…this is a Jedi marker.” He leaned back away from the marker. “This place was once visited by the Jedi.”
“You mean, the Guardians have been here before?” asked Azar, to which Dalan nodded.
“There’s something else here,” said Shaylear, eyeing something underneath the marker. She reached down and withdrew a rather long case. It was roughly 40 centimetres long and almost as wide. Unlike the marker, it was composed of plastisteel, a standard component in this galaxy. “You don’t think,” she began, “that their…ashes…are in here, do you?”
Dalan took the case and examined it. Amidst the smell of dust and age, the tiger could not detect the latent smell of burned death around the case and shook his head. He placed the case on the ground and opened it up slowly, still not sure what he would find there. What greeted his eyes nearly made him gasp.
Four lightsabres, each one decorated according to their owners’ tastes, lay in the case, protected by black velvet mouldings. The design of them was far more elegant than anything he’d seen on Naboo, and he could only guess at the age of these weapons. If Triel were here, she could easily pinpoint their exact age just by tapping into the Force.
Triel…
Dalan shook the thought aside as he noticed another object in the case. It resembled one of the holocrons Luke had shown him during a final tour of the new Academy on Naboo, though it was considerably smaller. Perhaps it was some kind of personal recorder. This he reached for and examined. Once he found the activation switch he placed it in the centre of the chamber and switched it on.
The room seemed to grow darker as the ghostly blue hologram emerged from the top of the holocron. Dalan recognized the form taking shape as that of a Kel Dor, a native of the planet Dorin and one of the more common Jedi races. The tiger let out a long breath…after untold centuries here, the device still worked as well as the day it was built. Such durable technology was nearly non-existent in his galaxy.
The hologram wavered slightly as the Kel Dor seemed to scan the room. When he spoke, his voice was as clear as though he were still alive, and not the last will and testament of a long-dead being. “To whom am I speaking?” he asked plainly.
Dalan stepped forward slowly. “M…my name is Dalan Kalamar, ambassador to the planet Naboo and teacher at the Jedi Academy.”
The Kel Dor paused for a moment. “All Jedi are trained from birth at the Great Temple on Coruscant,” he stated, which gave Dalan a more accurate idea of this recording’s age.
“A lot has happened,” said the tiger. “Many things have changed. The Jedi now train in peace on the planet Naboo under its current headmaster, Luke Skywalker.”
Again, the image paused. Dalan surmised the AI chip inside the device was trying to comprehend the dramatic time shift since its last activation. “I see,” it finally said. “Are you a Jedi?”
“No,” replied Dalan. “I train rogue talents to focus their minds and bodies in an effort for them to connect to the Force.”
The Kel Dor seemed to chuckle. “About time they discovered a way to do so,” he said. “Rogue talents are often prime recruits for the Sith or other Dark Side Factions.” He paused again. “How is it that you survived without a breather?”
“The pollen from the Flower of Life has no effect on me,” explained Dalan. “I’ve no midichlorian count to speak of.” His mind thought back to that first day on this world, and how he nearly lost his beloved daughter to that accursed Flower of Life. “Is that what happened to your Masters?”
“Yes,” replied the Kel Dor, his demeanour shifting. “We were being pursued by a Sith ship when we crashed here. The moment we opened the hatch I…” He turned away, as if to compose himself. “There was nothing I could do for them except watch them succumb to the pollen’s influence. Afterwards I realized there was no way I could ever make it off the planet. I was just a Padawan at the time…I knew little of starship operation, much less the ability to make ours spaceworthy again.”
“A week after the crash I came across a party of aliens,” the Kel Dor continued. “They were known as…”
“The Invid,” completed Dalan.
“Of course,” the hologram continued. “If you hadn’t met them by now, then how could you be here? They took me to their hive and there I was welcomed in peace and friendship. I learned many things from their Queen, and in turn I offered as much knowledge as I could about the Jedi and their ways. Yet, she never referred to us as Jedi, but rather…Guardians for some reason.”
“The Queen tried her best to make me feel welcome,” the Padawan continued. “She could…mould her kind into other forms and did her best to provide me with companions. I appreciated her efforts and formed many friendships here. They helped me construct this rather simple monument to my Master and her lover and the Queen swore any Guardian that set foot on this world would be treated with the utmost reverence. Of course, until now, no one has ever come.”
He gestured towards the box containing the lightsabres. “The first three lightsabres are my Master’s, her lover’s, and mine respectively. The fourth was a project I was working on for quite some time with little success. Mechanically it’s nearly identical to my other sabre, but for some reason I was compelled to place a compartment for an additional power source in its base…a compartment that fit nothing I had.”
Dalan extracted the unfinished lightsabre from the box and examined it. Sure enough, a small sliding panel at its base revealed a chamber for a small power cylinder, but unlike anything he’d ever seen power one of these weapons before. “The Force made you do it?” he asked.
“I suppose,” replied the hologram. “Though I’ve no idea why the Force would compel me to build a lightsabre that didn’t work.
Dalan’s thoughts of prescience made his stomach churn. The more he stared at the blank chamber, the more his mind placed a particular type of cylinder in it. “Azar,” he said with a hollow voice. “Could you lend me a power cell from your wrist light, please?”
The Enforcer silently opened the cover on his wrist-mounted light and retrieved the cell – about the size of a Terran ‘AA’ dry cell – and handed it to Dalan. “This cell is Protoculture powered?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Azar. “Yet another small gift from the Holy Flower.”
Dalan said nothing as he slid the cylinder into the chamber, replacing the cover as he did so. “Stand back, he said to everyone as he held the lightsabre at arm’s length. Taking in a quick breath, he pushed the activation switch.
The snap-hiss of the blade’s activation echoed in the chamber like a thunderclap. From the emitter appeared the blade, bright as a thousand suns compared to the darkness of the chamber, but an eerie pale green in colour. It was unlike any lightsabre Dalan or the Kel Dor had ever seen. It seemed to give off a mist of some sort…hardly detectable but it added to the near supernatural appearance of this weapon.
“By the gods,” whispered Dalan, his whiskers tingling in the presence of such a strange blade.
“A fusion of Jedi and Invid technology,” concluded the Kel Dor. “Why did I never think to ask?”
“Perhaps it wasn’t your destiny to do so,” said Dalan, closing down the weapon. He swallowed hard, the memory of that blade’s colour dancing in his mind.
“If I may ask,” said the Kel Dor finally. “If you have a means to leave this planet, please take these artefacts with you back to the Jedi. Perhaps some of my knowledge here can benefit them somehow.”
“I will,” said Dalan, deciding that now was not the best time to inform the hologram that an invading alien race was poised to wipe this place out in a matter of weeks and that the only civilization that this holocron would ever see would be the brutal new staging world for the Yuuzhan Vong.
The holocron deactivated itself and the room was soon plunged back into the warm glow of the light sticks enshrining the monument. Dalan placed the object back in the box and closed it, keeping the strange lightsabre out. This he clipped to his belt as he turned towards Shaylear. “We should keep moving,” he said.
Shaylear nodded and let her newfound memories guide the group away from this place and closer…ever closer…to some goal known only by the silent prescient minds.
* * *
Pain…punishment…penance…
This is my penance…my price…my fate…
Is it?
Without focus there is no action. Without action there is no hope.
Are you sure?
How can I not be? It would be so simple for my life to end just now. One mere action and all is lost.
Are you certain of this? Will it be the end, or perhaps a new beginning?
What…who are you?
I am the seed planted in you many days ago. You welcomed me with violence and suffering, but over time I have had the opportunity to grow…to adapt. I am the union of the physical and the spiritual, the material and the immaterial. I am what is seen…and what is felt…now as one.
As one?
Yes…but we cannot grow any further. More of the physical must be taken in to balance us. Without it, we will never reach our pinnacle.
More of…but that will…
Greatl entered the Den of Screams with a purposeful gait. Under her arm she carried what looked like a villip, though from the looks of it, it had been slightly modified to serve some sinister purpose. Her body was nearly vibrating with erotic energy as the anticipation of her dark deed swam through her mind. Truly, what she was about to do far surpassed anything she’d ever done to herself or others in the past, and the villip would record every agonizing moment of it until the end.
She approached the Embrace of Pain and as if commanded it lowered its prey to a level equal to Greatl’s eyes. The Shaper stifled a moan of ecstasy as she beheld the human form in the Embrace’s clutches. It was a young human female, probably in her early to mid teen years. Her blonde hair, drenched with sweat, clung to her face and bare back. There were no visible cuts anywhere on her body, save the one place where Greatl had cut her to collect a sample of her blood. The Embrace’s goal was to prolong one’s suffering as much as possible, and to bleed one’s prey dry was to add a factor of finiteness to the torture.
“You resemble the hated Kel Dor race with that device,” remarked Greatl, reaching towards the human’s face. She shrunk back as much as she could, at which the Shaper smiled. “Ah, yes,” she said. “That which makes you a Jee-dai reacts to that flower, doesn’t it? I wonder just how much pain you’ll be in when I remove this.”
She reached for the mask again, but the female struggled. The Embrace responded quickly, making her scream in pain. Greatl began to tingle as the screams filled her ears. Again, she moved for the mask and this time her gnarled fingers wrapped around it. In one swift motion she removed the device, anticipating the acid bath her hand would have to take in order to remove the technological stench from her skin.
That being done, Greatl moved towards a pedestal and placed the villip atop it. She opened it up and pointed it directly at the Embrace. “This will record your final screams for me,” she stated, walking back up towards the girl. “You see, thanks to some comrades on Corellia, we know who you are and with whom you’ve come to this world. Such an offering from the gods can only mean we are to make you both suffer for what you did on that world…to us…and to Nom Anor. Yes, Jee-dai…I know you were there…but as a mere brat back then, eh? You left most of the fighting up to that beast and his Gungan comrade, didn’t you? Of course you did…you were too weak to fight then and you are too weak to fight now. Perhaps your skills as a Jee-dai can allow you to hold your breath for a while, but soon enough you will have to take that final breath, and I will be here to watch you scream your last…Triel Davenport.”
Triel said nothing, but instead closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. The Embrace’s efforts were tolerable to her so long as she was able to breathe, but with her mask now in the clutches of that bantha-butt ugly Shaper, she knew her time was fast running out. The Corellian in her wanted to have a war of words with Greatl, but her Jedi training thankfully overrode that instinct, instead reminding her to focus on slowing her metabolism down. Oxygen was now a rare commodity in her body and she had to use it sparingly. That meant her heart had to slow its beat down, thereby reducing her bloodflow and perhaps prolonging her need to breathe.
The hopelessness of her situation closed in around her with each passing second, and tears fell from her eyes. She’d heard Dalan’s last desperate roar through the wall of rubble she’d brought down between them in an effort to save he and Shaylear from the Vong. She’d resigned herself to believing it was her penance for slipping into the Dark Side. She’d let her anger at her past drive a solid wedge between she and Dalan, and now every word she’d said to him rung in her ears like some kind of recording.
The Embrace twisted her body once more, bringing her heartbeat back up to normal and breaking her meditative state. She rode out the pain as best she could, her face turning purple as her oxygen supply rapidly dwindled down to nothing.
“Yes,” said Greatl in a sickly sweet voice. “Breathe, child…take in as much air as you can…fill your body with it…you know you want to.”
Oh, how desperately she wanted to. Two lungs full of air and pollen and she could end it all. The pain from the Embrace…the pain of not breathing…the pain of that last mournful roar…all of it could end. Just a series of deep breaths to take in the pollen, and it would react with the midichlorians in her system, creating the same violent reaction she experienced once before. It would be violent and possibly painful, but it would also end oh, so soon.
The Embrace worked on her again, and in one terrible moment of weakness…Triel’s mouth opened wide and screamed. It was followed by the instinctive deep breath, and almost immediately she could feel the pollen beginning to react. She quickly stared directly at the villip and began speaking, but not in the Basic tongue. It was something Greatl couldn’t understand, though it sounded like some kind of pleading or last ditch cry for help that would never arrive.
Triel thrashed about violently as she continued to speak in the strange tongue. The Embrace continued to torture her, causing her to draw more breaths and further infect herself with the Flower’s pollen. She coughed, wheezed, cried, and screamed, but never stopped speaking at the villip.
Greatl watched Triel’s death throes with a voyeuristic passion. She trembled each time the Embrace made the girl twitch or squeal in pain. She’d strangled many a lover whilst in the throes of passion, but what she was seeing now far surpassed any feelings she’d had in the past. This jee-dai wench was pleading into the villip before her, as if trying to deliver a last will and testament. It seemed a rather pathetic death for one of the hated Jee-dai warriors, but to see such a mighty bastion of honour and might reduced to such a quivering, babbling pile of flesh made her want to scream in ecstasy.
Triel’s vision soon grew spotty and it was impossible for her to breathe. With one final super effort she drew in a final breath, giving her heart and lungs one last bit of oxygen…a final gift before her airways were too swollen to work. She felt numb to the Embrace’s influence now. Anything it did to her she seemed able to ignore as her ears began to ring from the lack of oxygen. Her body trembled and her chest heaved as it tried to continue its process, but to no avail. There was no loving, caring tiger coming to her rescue with an injector full of drugs to open her airways this time…no knight in shining armour to rescue this fallen damsel.
And, with a final, shuddering gurgle, Triel Davenport breathed her last.
Greatl moved towards the villip and closed it, her legs weak from the orgasmic experience she’d just had. Her lust for pain and torture had been more than sated for now. The Jee-dai’s death was exactly what she needed to scratch her sadistic itch and she cackled evilly as she left the now silent Den of Screams. Tsavong Lah would add his own message to what the villip had recorded and it would be sent out all over this world, seeking Nom Anor’s slayer. He would easily break from seeing someone so close to him die so brutally, and the rest of this world’s native population would soon fall after that…swept clean by the might of the Yuuzhan Vong.
And now…it begins…
* * *
“Down there,” said Shaylear, pointing in the direction of a grand tunnel. “That way leads to the Queen’s chambers. Everyone began to move towards it, but the tigress put her hands up, stopping them. “No…from here on I must go alone…with you, Dalan.”
“Me? But why…” He noticed the almost pleading look in her eyes and understood. “All right,” he said and with that the two felinoids left their Enforcer escorts behind and entered the final tunnel.
It was barely lit, but to one with feline eyesight the lack of light made little difference. Dalan could easily make out every detail of the cavern, from the symmetrical ribbed texture to every nook and cranny within that texture. The faint tingle of ages past played over the tiger’s whiskers as he walked, and he knew that what lay at the end of this tunnel was something not seen by mortal eyes in centuries past.
Thoughts of seeing such a thing filled Dalan both with expectation and dread. He looked at his walking companion and wondered what her role would be once they reached the chamber. What destiny lay before this Invid tigress whom he’d come to call friend?
Shaylear, for her part, remained silent. Every step closer they got to the chamber, her heart pounded that much harder. Memories of ages past were filling up her mind and it was all she could do to remain sane. With near perfect clarity she could remember most of her mother’s journey across the cosmos…all those millennia between galaxies when she slept and dreamt of things not seen or heard of in ages past. She was starting to make out the details of the many worlds Mother had visited, each native race coming into focus with each passing moment.
With a gasp she could see the birth of her sister…the one soon to be known as the Mad Queen. She fought the urge to vomit as she saw the screaming, fiery death of the Mad Queen at the hands of six warriors, one of whom she was now walking beside. She could feel how her mother grieved, but soon came to accept the loss as part of life’s experiences. Yet, in spite of this, Shaylear could still feel a small pang of guilt on her mother’s part that she didn’t prepare her daughter better at the time. Had she done so…had she perhaps given more of her own wisdom to her…the phrase ‘Mad Queen’ might have never applied.
Shaylear’s thoughts soon turned to the Invid arrival on this world. It had been naught but a desert planet at first, but after nearly a century of careful tending, this planet became the lush green paradise that it was now. Huge sections of open land were host to the Holy Flower of Life, and while all the Queen’s warriors soon found themselves in stasis, scores of low-stage harvesters were created in the Genesis Pits, programmed to harvest the Flower when the time was right.
On this world, Shaylear’s mother had finally decided to end her exploration days and settle. Here, the Invid would finally have a place to call home. Now, with the Hated Ones here, it seemed the Invid would also end here.
At last, the chamber loomed before them. It seemed to grow brighter as they moved towards it, and Dalan guessed it had something to do with Shaylear. Her very presence was undoubtedly reacting with something in that chamber, causing whatever form of illumination that lay within to activate, bathing the room in a faint golden glow. He felt Shaylear’s hand squeeze his tightly as they crossed the threshold and entered the centre of the Hive.
The chamber was immense…able to hold several scores of beings as an audience. High above the pair, suspended on four buttress-like supports, was what appeared to be some kind of container. It was large enough to park a full-sized skimmer in, and Dalan briefly wondered if that was where the Queen used to hold court. It seemed odd to him that she would have opted for the form of a lump of brain matter rather than this more defensible configuration, but perhaps she’d grown complacent over the eons.
“This is it,” said Shaylear, her voice barely a whisper. “This is where Mother first lived.” She let go of Dalan’s hand and walked around the chamber, drinking in its every feature. “She would hold court here with her most loyal of Enforcers,” she said. “Every day she would commune with them, learning through their experiences what this planet was like. After centuries of exploration, she finally commissioned the building of a Hive on the mainland…the one to which you were brought. This place had been all but forgotten…until now.”
“I heard the Queen could convert herself into energy,” commented Dalan, remembering the Mad Queen’s attempts to do so just as his reflex missiles tore her to shreds. “So up there,” he pointed at the container, “she must have existed as pure energy. Then, when she finally found a place to truly call home she abandoned that form, preferring something more organic.”
Shaylear said nothing as she looked at the container high above her. It wasn’t much of a throne, though so high up she would have been relatively well protected, especially if this chamber was normally filled with her deadliest Enforcers. The tigress wondered what it must have been like…to exist merely as mental energy…to have no substance or physical form. With everything the physical realm had to offer in terms of sensation, how could one possibly exist never feeling those sensations? What could drive a person to be that way?
The answer came in a flood of new memories, and soon the tigress understood. The Invid Queen could exist as energy because she made and used different bodies according to her needs. The Hive was her body. The vast air exchange systems were her lungs…the rivers of vibrant green Protoculture were her blood vessels. Her eyes and ears were the scores of Invid she birthed in her wombs, the Genesis Pits. The pumping mechanisms that kept the Protoculture and nutrient fluid tanks circulating were her hearts. This Hive was a complete organism all to itself…only now it lacked one thing that kept it incomplete thus far…
A soul…
“D…Dalan?”
The tiger turned towards Shaylear and instantly he felt his heart tighten. Even in this low light he could see the pained look on her muzzle, as if she’d suddenly reached some morbid conclusion. “I know why we were led here,” she said finally. “We were meant to find this room…I…was meant to come here.”
“What for?” Shaylear merely gazed upwards at the nexus above them and Dalan quickly came to the same conclusion. “But…that would mean…”
“This place, Dalan…this Hive must live again,” insisted Shaylear. “You saw the chambers. You know what lies buried here…what kind of army sleeps within. Without me the Hated Ones will raze this place as surely as they did the other Hive.” She was shaking from her conflicting emotions. While the rational side understood what had to be done, another part of her didn’t want to face it. She wanted to leap into Dalan’s arms and merely be held by him until the Vong arrived. “This is my destiny,” she said, her voice cracking. “My future…the future of all Invid…depends on this.”
The tiger was silent. The moment they’d entered this chamber he knew that this would be the inevitable outcome. All the memories emerging in Shaylear’s consciousness pointed to this final conclusion. In order for the Invid to stand a chance against the Vong Shaylear had to make what some would call the ultimate sacrifice. She would have to become more than the tigress standing before him now. She had to become the essence of the Invid spirit…their heart…their soul…their mind…
Their Queen…
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as if to silently confirm what Shaylear had said. “Is…is there anything I can do before you…you know…”
Shaylear looked into his deep green eyes and felt her ears grow warm from embarrassment. “Th…there is,” she said. “Please…would you…kiss me?” She felt a wave of humiliation wash over her the moment she said it. “I know your heart belongs to another,” she said, “but if I’m to spend eternity as some being devoid of any form of physical feeling at least I could hold on to one memory…you.”
Dalan said nothing, but merely stepped closer to the tigress. Slowly, stiffly, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close, making her gasp. He was hesitant at first, merely nuzzling the side of her face before his lips finally brushed against hers. Shaylear returned the embrace tightly and closed her eyes as her muzzle finally met his.
The kiss started innocently enough, but soon their repressed feelings came screaming out from behind their mental barriers and the two shared a kiss that seared their souls with passion. Tiger and tigress vibrated from their mutual deep purring and both felt their hearts racing with each passing moment. Dalan held onto Shaylear tightly and she did the same to him.
Suddenly, Shaylear seemed to grow light in Dalan’s arms. He opened his eyes and saw the tigress beginning to glow. Their muzzles parted and Dalan’s jaw remained open in amazement as he watched Shaylear begin her transformation. Radiating a kind of pure light from within the Invid princess lifted her arms high. She seemed to be giving off a mist of some sort…one that stretched high above her and began collecting around the nexus.
With a growing sadness and admiration, Dalan watched as the angelic tigress before him became as light. The last thing he saw before she succumbed fully to the metamorphosis was her smiling face and her bright powder blue eyes looking straight at him from within the light. She mouthed two words to him before her last physical feature gave way and her newly transformed self lifted into the air and nestled itself inside the nexus far above:
Remember me…
Dalan fought back the tears as he watched the angel disappear into what would be her home for the next eternity. Once she disappeared the chamber seemed dark and gloomy by comparison, but what nearly made him cry out was the sudden deep silence of the moment. Only the sound of his breathing could be heard in this immense chamber, which now seemed as dead as it had before.
His felt his heart sink as he stared up at the now dark nexus. A million questions ran through his grieving mind, from ‘is she all right?’ to ‘did I let her get too close?’ He knew the one tragic flaw of the Stage Five Invid was its independence from the collective mind. They were capable of real emotion and were often considered unstable under the right circumstances.
Guilt swept over the tiger’s mind as he stared. Had he gone too far? Had that last kiss distracted Shaylear so much that she could no longer fulfill her intended destiny? Would the Invid race – and therefore his own life – end because of his loneliness?
As if in answer to his questions, the nexus suddenly began to glow faintly. Dalan’s heart began beating faster as the light grew brighter and brighter, illuminating the chamber with the strength of a small sun. He had to look away to keep his eyes from burning in their sockets. Even with his eyes tightly shut, though, the ever-growing brightness was becoming impossible to block out.
Suddenly, something collided with Dalan and the tiger was sent flying. He barely had time to register what had happened to him before he landed roughly on the ground. Curious as he was as to what happened he dared not open his eyes lest he be blinded. Instead he lay face down, covered his head with his arms and prayed this would all soon be over.
The moments passed by like an eternity, but as quickly as the light had come it left. Dalan finally looked up from his cowed position and glanced up at the nexus. Now, a gentle light emanated from it, which illuminated the chamber in a golden glow. Quickly he got to his feet and looked around. Everything seemed brighter now to his eyes. Even the cavern he and Shaylear had walked down now seemed to glow with some kind of inner vibrant energy.
A faint odour crossed the tiger’s muzzle, and he breathed deeply of it. It was naught but air, but it carried the sweetest of fresh fragrances. His sensitive ears twitched as they detected the low, rumbling sound of some immense air exchange system starting up. He could also hear the many Protoculture pumps they’d passed start up, adding to what would soon be the necessary background noise of a functioning Hive.
“Dalan?”
The voice reverberated throughout the chamber, causing the tiger to look up again. The voice seemed to emanate from the nexus above, and in spite of its far more regal and far-reaching sound, there was still a familiar tone to it.
“Shaylear?” he asked, looking around.
“I…I’m here,” she replied, her voice again echoing throughout the chamber.
“How do you feel?”
“I…” There was another long silence, interrupted only by the sound of distant machinery beginning to start up. “I feel…” The chamber’s light level began to increase to the point where it didn’t look so much like a tomb. The air continued to freshen with each passing minute, and Dalan felt a wave of relief wash over him. Shaylear had not been compromised…she was the new Invid Queen now. “I…feel…”
“Yes?”
“Alive.”
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Casper_Knightshade
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Date Posted:
5/19/06 11:30am
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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WHOA! I got my old comp working just in time for some real, real goodness!
First, I had a bad feeling it was Whisper in that Den, and unfortunately I was right. However it appears some other transformation is occurring other than the one Sheaylear just underwent.
Dalan's perspective on destiny is a little too true. What can be more abbrevent is if one did know, would they eventually created the events that lead them to it? A question to be answered never, but for certain many things are yet to come.
To both our collective computer sorrows: let not our hearts be troubled!
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"I recommend less salt."
- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Casper_Knightshade
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Date Posted:
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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FORWARD!
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- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Casper_Knightshade
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Date Posted:
7/7/06 7:43am
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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UP!
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- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Casper_Knightshade
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Date Posted:
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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FORWARD!
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
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Date Posted:
8/23/06 2:50pm
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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I think I've died and gone to heaven
VENGEANCE RIDES FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I R teh happy gungan now
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
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Date Posted:
8/31/06 5:00pm
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RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 8/31 - Chapter 18 Begins
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So, at long last, I'm back. DRL basically kicked the crap outta me this past looooooooong time.
Things have calmed down a fair bit now, mainly thanks to installing Linux on my home PC, which has finally solved my overheating CPU problem. Word to the wise: Windows 2000 + Hyperthreading P4 = expensive toaster.
I've also gotten far enough ahead on my writing that I can start posting again (yay), so thank you to all you loyal lurkers out there...all 3 of you :P
So...without further ado...let Chapter 18 begin...
Chapter 18 – Family Reunion
“Keep moving, Jedi,” said the trooper, nudging Shon yet again with the butt of his rifle. The rogue talent flinched but said nothing. Normally such an action would have prompted a smart-aleck comment from him, but the presence of this trooper, three others, two of which were carrying ysalamiri nutrient frames on their backs, and his brother made him seriously reconsider any action at this moment.
His mind raced with memories of the past few hours. Upon that one Dark Trooper removing its helmet and revealing the person within the armour, he and the others had all been stunned and subsequently placed in holding cells, one person per cell. To make matters worse, ysalamiri frames had been installed into each cell, providing not only a way to block the Force, but also provide a stink that would surely begin to eat away at everyone’s resolve before long.
He’d lost track of the time after he’d been stunned, and woke up in his cell to the sound of the happily chirping ‘stink worm’ for a cell-mate. With a wry smile he remembered his first comment about preferring to room with Vas again rather than share such a small space with such an odorous creature. Of course, he’d been stripped of any and all weapons while unconscious. As a result he’d had a fair bit of time to come to terms with what had happened.
His emotions were mixed at best when he thought of his father and brother, both alive and here on the Prometheus. That Terin Corvain was still alive would no doubt raise Sensei’s dander a fair bit, and Grand Admiral Pellaeon would doubtless be angered as well. In Shon’s opinion, his father should have been shot while in transit from Naboo to the Chimaera, but a more humane fate had been chosen for him…one that ultimately led to this point.
The group rounded a corner and Shon saw they were approaching a sealed door. Like the rest of the ship, it was covered in the same highly polished obsidian finish, accented by a few lights embedded in its edges. Shon felt a hint of anxiety as they approached the door, wondering what kind of torture his brother had in mind for him. Having seen a few interrogations in his youth on the Roundhammer, the rogue talent knew that the Empire excelled in information extraction. He’d been present at a family gathering of the Solos one night on Naboo, and listened as Han recounted his time on Bespin, under guard from Darth Vader and Boba Fett. Though he would never publicly admit it, the rogue talent had a hard time sleeping that night, thinking about what his Master’s father went through.
The first thing that hit Shon when the door finally slid open was the smell. No, it wasn’t the odour of burning, rotting flesh, or the sharp ozone scent of electrical torture devices. Nor was it the stench of bile freshly ejected from someone’s stomach as their body succumbed to pain. No, it was the smell of Nerf…cooked Nerf…very well cooked Nerf.
Shon glanced around and saw he’d not been led to a torture chamber, but rather one of the finest dining rooms he’d ever seen. A long, coffin-shaped table graced the centre of the room, surrounded by at least a dozen chairs. The young Jedi pondered for a moment if this was to be the meeting place of the Grand Admirals under the Emperor’s countenance. It reminded him of some of the stories Master Skywalker told about the early days on Coruscant after the battle of Endor. Dark, creepy places like this were commonplace where Palpatine was concerned.
His stomach churned slightly as he noticed someone seated at the head of the table. He recognized the face instantly as that of his father. As he was brought closer, he could see that three place settings had been put down, one for his father, and the other two he assumed for he and Jastro. His stomach rumbled as the tantalizing aromas wafting up from the table ran across his nose. He silently cursed his body for having such a weakness, at which Terin Corvain merely chuckled.
“Forever the hungry one, eh son?” he said. He raised his hand and one of the guards undid Shon’s binders. “Please, have a seat,” said Terin. “Doubtless you’re about ready for a decent meal.”
Shon looked around at the two guards, their helmets betraying no emotion whatsoever. With a shrug, he pulled the chair out and, making sure there were no traps on it, sat down. “Guards, leave us,” ordered Terin, and the guards moved toward the door, as did the ones carrying the nutrient frames. At first, Shon expected to feel the Force coming back to him, but instead detected no real change other than the smell of those creatures finally leaving his nose.
“Ysalamiri in the walls?” he asked, looking up at the polished black surroundings.
“Very observant,” replied Terin as Jastro sat down opposite his brother. “Rather simple to place up there, too…such complacent creatures so long as they have something to latch onto.” He took a sip of water from his glass. “Hopefully they won’t put a damper on your appetite.”
“Not at all,” said Shon. He contemplated telling his father about The Shroud and how unlike many Jedi he was used to living without the Force constantly flowing through him. However, he suspected such news would only increase the amount of security he and the other rogue talents would have to endure. No, better to stay quiet for now…and perhaps surprise everyone later.
“Good,” said Terin. “Dinner will be served momentarily…once our final guest has seated himself.” Shon looked over and saw Jastro approaching the chair opposite him, removing his helmet and gloves as he did so. He had to admit that two years as a stormtrooper had done his older brother good. He was clean cut, rather filled out and his jaw looked ten times stronger than the last time he’d seen it…and formally introduced it to his then-amateur fist.
Once Jastro was seated, several servant droids appeared, each bearing part of the forthcoming meal. The first droid carried with it two bottles of wine, the first of which it used to fill the trio’s glasses. It then left the remainder of that bottle plus the other one on the table before shuffling off. The next droid carried with it a trio of plates, each piled high with the food Shon’s nose had detected earlier. Thick, juicy slices of roast nerf, vegetables, tubers, and other such fixings were laid down before the Corvains. Sauces and gravies of several different varieties were also laid out, ensuring that everyone’s appetites would be sated at this gathering…this family reunion.
With a triumphant smile, Terin stabbed three slices of nerf meat off the serving plate and dropped them on his own. Jastro did the same and, after some hesitation, Shon did as well. He suspected no malice in this dinner, though the company could use some improvement. He’d much rather be dining in the Jedi commissary than sitting with his estranged family now…a real statement, given the rather mediocre quality of the aforementioned place’s food.
Soon everyone’s plate was filled with food, at which point the serving droids departed. They covered up the serving plates to keep the food warm in case anyone wanted more. At this point, Terin raised his wine glass and regarded his two sons. “To the family Corvain,” he announced. “Reunited at last.” All three clinked glasses, Shon rather reluctantly. He sipped the wine and marvelled at the flavour. It was rich and fruity, which all but covered up the alcohol within.
The three set their glasses down, and everyone began to eat. Shon took a few mouthfuls of the food, savouring the taste of it. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed such a meal. He sipped at his wine only sparingly though, preferring to wash down the meal with water instead. Jastro, on the other hand, took large mouthfuls of the crimson beverage, and it wasn’t long before Shon noted that the alcohol was beginning to affect his older brother.
“At least staying on Naboo’s taught you some proper table manners,” remarked Terin. “You used to be quite the glutton.”
“I’ve learned to appreciate things a bit more,” said Shon evenly. “Especially when one isn’t regimented a set amount of time to eat.”
“Such is the life of a planet-dweller,” said Terin. “But aboard a starship things are different. Ships like this one only function when the machine as a whole functions properly. The ship’s crew is part of that machine…”
“…and must perform their duties with precision,” finished Shon, recalling the speech. “As I recall that’s the very speech you dictated to me just before beating me senseless with a shock-stick.” He looked over his shoulder, half-expecting to see a Dark Trooper wielding such a weapon.
“Things have changed, son,” said Terin. “I’ve changed, you’ve changed…hell, the whole galaxy has changed.” He took a sip of wine. “Even in the years I’ve spent in prison, the galaxy’s undergone so many changes…most of them due to Naboo’s ‘beloved son.’”
“That furball’s caused more political damage for the Republic than even he realizes,” snarled Jastro. “President Fey’lya’s obsessed with discrediting him.”
“Which provides the perfect opportunity for those willing to grasp it,” said Terin. “Those like us.”
“The politics of distraction,” commented Shon. “Draw their attention away with the right hand while the left slips the dagger in between the ribs. Quaint, but effective.” His dispassionate voice gave both Terin and Jastro pause. “It’ll be an empty prize, though,” he added, chewing another mouthful of food before continuing. “You could burn Naboo to ash and never claim your prize.”
“You sound so certain,” chided Jastro. “Do you honestly think the Nubians possess that kind of resolve?”
“You saw the city, Jastro,” said Shon calmly. “You saw his legacy. Though he’d never ask it of anyone, that entire world’s populace would sacrifice themselves if it meant that he could escape to strike another day. When his shuttle was shot down four years ago those pilots could have joined him in that escape pod; that’s what it was designed for. Yet they knowingly sacrificed themselves to try and cover his escape.”
“Resolve can be broken,” said Terin, the iron in his voice warning Shon to tread lightly. The young Jedi picked up on this and fell silent. He knew he could best his half-drunk brother in a fist fight now, but the presence of the other guards on the ship would prove a fatal equalizer should he try. “Once this ship is operational and fully crewed, I’ll show Naboo the true meaning of fear. Even if the Republic wanted to, their fleet would be no match for this vessel.
“What about support ships…fighters, transports, all that?” asked Shon. “After all, one ship does not a fleet make.”
“True,” acknowledged Terin. “But Jastro tells me that since Admiral Krieger came to power, dissension amongst the fleet is increasing. With the right whispered words, more and more people are becoming aware of the impending change of power. When the time is right, they’ll join us and help overrun the rest.” He finished his wine and poured another glass. “Soon the Empire will be back on course to realize its true destiny.”
“The Republic will fall,” sneered Jastro. “And we’ll put the Jedi where they deserve to be…in the ground.”
“Does that include me as well?” asked Shon, cocking his head at Jastro. “You’d execute your own brother? Oh, wait…that’s right. You’ve had no problem pulling a blaster on me in the past.” He finished his plate and sat back from the table, draining his water glass. His wine goblet was still two thirds full. “Ah…magnificent feast, Father. Any dessert, or am I heading back to my cell now?”
“What makes you think you’re going to a cell?” asked Terin. “You are family, after all.”
“To be honest, I haven’t called this gathering ‘family’ in a long time,” admitted Shon.
“The past is the past,” said Terin, a paternal smile on his face. “Shon, I admit that in the past I was rough with you, but think about it. I was the Captain of the Roundhammer, Shon…I led that ship. To maintain such leadership I had to prove to the crew that I would accept nothing less than absolute obedience.”
“The medical droids said that a lot,” remarked Shon, remembering his days in the Roundhammer’s infirmary. “They always told me I should be more respectful…be a good little soldier.”
“Would it help if I said I was sorry for all of that?” asked Terin. “Would it make any difference to you if I asked for your forgiveness, right here and now?” As if to emphasize his point, Terin stood up and moved beside Shon’s chair. Then, to the amazement of his sons, Terin did something completely unexpected…he knelt before Shon. “Shon,” he said, looking up at his son, his expression one of pleading. “I was a terrible father to you…I admit that. But now, aboard this ship…with destiny so close…I want you to be by my side and look to me as a father…a true father. I want us all to be a family again, Shon. Please…for all of us…forgive me.”
Shon looked over at his brother, who bore a genuinely shocked expression. This was no planned ruse…or if it was, then Jastro had no prior knowledge of it.
His father’s words struck a chord with Shon…worming their way through the years of resentment and latent hatred. All those years of running away…of trying to escape a past his own brother kept bringing up at the worst possible moment…all the damage he’d caused to protect his identity on Naboo…
What he’d done to Triel…to Dalan…all of it was because of him…because of the man who now knelt before him, begging his forgiveness.
The anger swelled in Shon’s chest for a moment before the rational side of his mind kicked in. While nothing would make him feel better than a verbal torrent equivalent to his epitaph at the Academy two years ago, the rogue talent thought long and hard about what his father was asking. On one hand, were it not for his running away, Shon would never have learned of his talent as a carver and stonemason. He never would have lived on Dathomir in that remote village, learning to appreciate the beauty of nature. Had he remained on the Roundhammer and endured his father’s punishment, he never would have seen as much as he had, or become as strong as he was.
If not for his father, he never would have become a Jedi…he never would have met his Sensei…or Triel…
“I…” Yet, as he stared into the Imperial Captain’s eyes, Shon saw something as he spoke. At first it looked like a glimmer of hope, but as his mind processed it, the young Jedi detected something far more sinister behind that glimmer. It was in fact the glint of anticipation. With Shon’s forgiveness, Terin’s plan would be that much closer to completion. He would finally have everything he wanted with three small words on his part.
Shon stood up and straightened his tunic. He took one final sip of wine before placing the goblet back on the table and looking at his brother. “I think I’m ready to return to my cell now,” he said. He looked down at his father, whose eyes now bore an expression of barely contained rage. “Nice try,” he said.
As the guards returned and bound Shon roughly, Terin stood and assumed his normal, expected air of Imperial arrogance…the same look he used to have on his face as he mercilessly pummelled Shon for an act of disobedience. “I came to you on bended knee, Shon,” he growled. “I asked for your forgiveness out of kindness, and you basically spat in my face.” His next words were cold…unfeeling…hollow…just like Shon remembered them to be. “Your disrespect has not only cost you my mercy, Jedi, but it will cost your friends as well. Out of mercy I ordered them not to be harmed, but your arrogance has erased that mercy.”
Shon went to lunge at Terin, but the troopers held him back. In spite of his Jedi training…in spite of the consequences of this outburst, the young rogue talent glared daggers at his father. “Oh, don’t worry,” said Terin, his voice sweet with venom. “I’ll make sure you have a front-row seat when I introduce your comrades to the Prometheus scientists. Then you’ll see firsthand the consequences of your actions. Take him away.” With that, the guards, led by Jastro, all but dragged a silent Shon out of the dining room and back to his cell.
Terin Corvain turned back to the table as the door slid shut. He picked up Shon’s half-full goblet of wine and held it up to the light. How much like blood it looked…red and translucent. He’d be spilling a lot of blood soon…enough to wash away the stain that was the New Republic from the galaxy.
“You could have been by my side, son,” he said softly, pouring the wine out onto the table. “But perhaps you’re too far gone now…perhaps that alien has tainted your mind beyond recovery.” He dropped the glass goblet, not flinching as it shattered on the floor at his feet. “Then again, we’ll see just how resolute you are as I make you watch your friends suffer…oh, and suffer they will.”
With that, he turned and left the dining room for the droids to clean up.
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Casper_Knightshade
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9/7/06 6:49am
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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First, welcome back!
Second: YES! Bring on the hell ride, Ghost Rider!!!!!!!!!! 
Thirdly, you haven't missed a beat, Whiskey. Good posting there.
At lest Shon was lucky; he could have shared a cell with a fat Ewok with gas.
Terin: Shon, my son, if you come with me, if you join my killing crew, I'll....let you steer the ship!
Oh brother, why is it that when people are that close to hell they think taking people down with them is going to save them? Could it be Terin knows he's monologging? At any rate, Terin and Jestro don't know what Dalen and the rest are going through and may be up to once they get over their problems.
YIPPY-SKIPPY!
-----signature-----
"I recommend less salt."
- Lars Breck, from "Issues"
7/18/2008
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
Registered:
Apr '00
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Date Posted:
9/17/06 10:13am
Subject:
RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
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Thanks for the feedback.
Terin is one evil bastage, of that there's no doubt. Bringing Shon over to his side would be, in his eyes, a major blow against Dalan. After all, what better way to break your opponent than taking away something important to them?
Of course, he obviously ignored Jastro's story of how those members of the Council tried...and failed hard.
Now that we've seen what's going on with Shon, perhaps we should check in on someone else who's having a hard time mentally...
Why are you here?
Her eyes opened slowly into the darkness around her. Her body ached as though she’d fallen down…down from some great height. Her body painfully protested when she tried to move, but she managed to fight it down long enough to move to a seating position. She rested, giving her mind a chance to focus through the pain in her body.
Why are you here?
She looked around in the darkness, trying to find out from where that voice came. It sounded so familiar to her…as if it was someone she knew. She wondered briefly if it was that other person she’d seen earlier…the one that bade her to sleep, after which she woke up in that meadow. Oh, if only she could go back to that place again, and be rid of all this darkness. Perhaps this voice could help her get there again. Then she could search unabated for Him to come and join her in that happy, blissful place.
Why are you here? The voice was more insistent now, so this time she answered.
“I…I’ve lost my way,” she stammered. “I…I was running in the meadow, and I fell into a pool, and…and then I was here.”
As she spoke, she realized that the voice she was hearing was very close to her own voice, both in pitch and tone. Yet, as similar as it sounded, compared to hers that distant voice sounded powerful…aggressive…almost evil by comparison. As much as she wanted it to help her, she felt goosebumps ripple over her body as she listened for a response.
In that black infinity, the voice seemed to chuckle. It wasn’t a patronizing chuckle an arrogant adult would save for a child. No, it was something far more sinister, as if the owner of that voice had become amused by her misfortune. She wrung her hands as she waited for the voice to say something…anything to help her out of this place.
My dear child…why didn’t you say so?
Suddenly, she became aware of a small change in the darkness. She peered at it and saw it was some kind of light, but it seemed so far away. She took a hesitant step toward it, praying for some word of encouragement.
Yes…that is the way back to the meadow…back to your precious paradise. Now run, child…He is waiting for you but he will not be there for long. Run like the wind…be with him…now and forever.
Her heart pounded with anticipation as she began to run. There was no build-up of speed here, just an all-out sprint through the darkness toward that light. Once through it, she would once again be in paradise. The sun would once again warm her face, and her senses would be alive with everything nature had to offer.
And now He was waiting there too…the one she’d been seeking for oh, so long…
Against all that is dark, even a point of light can shine like a thousand suns.
She stopped. The voice was both familiar and distant, as if it was being carried on the wind. She knew the voice and the phrase it spoke…it had always given her comfort, though she didn’t know why? After all, all she knew was the meadow, wasn’t it?
I told you that I would never abandon you, no matter what…
Abandon her? Who would never abandon her? It could not have been much of a promise since she was now alone.
“Who…who is there?” she called out timidly. “Who is calling me?”
Pay that voice no mind.
The original voice returned, this time seemingly agitated at something. She recoiled at the sharp tones in the voice’s words…fragments of spoken hatred that seemingly spat at the faint, hauntingly familiar whisper that now danced in the air.
Hesitantly, she took another step closer to the light before her…the light that would lead to the meadow and bliss once again. As she did so, the haunting whisper returned, but this time it was a different voice.
May I have this dance?
The voice was deep…masculine…yet filled with the innocent kind of compassion that could only come from a true friend. The voice made her body tingle all over. She knew that voice from somewhere, and every time she heard it, her body was always filled with a deep sense of comfort.
Always? But…wasn’t this the first time she’d heard it?
No…no it wasn’t the first time. In fact, she’d known those voices for far longer than just now…longer than the meadow. She knew them…before the meadow.
She turned away from the light, staring back at the darkness. Something stirred deep inside her, as if something was beginning to focus. The light, airy feeling of naiveté she’d been feeling since waking up in the meadow was fading fast, replaced by a focused – albeit weak – determination.
I said to pay those other voices no mind.
May I have this dance?
To listen to them is to deny yourself the meadow.
Care to join me for a drink?
If you shun the meadow, you will never see Him again.
Again she stopped. In spite of her growing awareness, the thought of seeing Him still gave her pause. In His presence, she knew everything would be all right. So long as He was by her side, all this confusion and mystery would melt away. With Him there would be clarity
Please…be careful.
That voice again…this time even stronger than the others. It sounded so close now…as if she could reach out and touch the speaker through the darkness. The voice was filled with concern for her…and she’d heard that very phrase once. Yes…in the time before the meadow…
There is nothing before the meadow
She was going away somewhere…to a place fraught with danger
You have always existed in the meadow.
A hand had stopped her at the last minute…a strong, pleading hand.
You fool! Step into the light! Do it now!
She’d turned and beheld a face…no…wait…not just a face…His face.
All that awaits you is darkness if you stay
He had come for her that time…to wish her wel | |
