The area had grown quiet in the aftermath of Seth's betrayal. The incline down from the surface from the cave mouth had deposited them in a massive cavern, it became apparent. Wires were along the floor, responsible for the gravitic and magnetic shifts - the latter no longer about - and the cavern ran in two directions. One direction led to a dead end, the direction they had been making their way towards, a hole in the floor which led deeper into Shadow, where the tentacles had taken the late Alec and Nill, and the wires went down that gap. Directly above that hole for the wires was a tunnel, denured into the stone and carving up, into the mountain. The tunnels split into a labyrinth, which is where Seth had headed. The other direction simply headed into the depths, distance making it difficult to see. Though the noise that came from them was obvious. A buzzing noise, the fluttering of wings. Dozens of wings. Gorog. They were coming to claim their prize, and divide and conquer His tools. Otherwise all would be ruined. The Gorog fluttered up, towards the remaining four. Mal, Driggs, Isis and Cara, going her own way as they spoke. Don't panic, I claim what is rightfully mine., the Force said, to them all. The Killiks landed between Cara and the others, chittering mandibles, and the same black-blue carapace. The Blue One seeks to kill the Kind. I need you four to survive, to save the Kind. I must show Cara something in the depths. You three must stop the Blue One. There was an invasion of Cara's mind - there was no other word for the probing question. Seth. Will you three stop Seth? It was a deal with a mind more sure of itself than anything the Jedi or Chiss had reported during the Swarm War - a Killik mind? -- For Seth himself, the tunnels smelt of Killiks. Stale, dead Killiks. Their pheromones were everywhere. This had been a nursery, relatively recently. Bodies lined the floors, Killiks in various states of disarray, as if they had been squashed to the ground by some enormous fly-swat. Gravitics? However, the tunnels unveiled a rocky outcropping, and a collection of Killiks behind it. The roof had been bent, seemingly, as to had the ceiling - interchangeable terms in Seth's situation, the rock meeting and creation an opening which seemed designed to shoot through. Anyone proceeding up the tunnel would have no cover, and Seth would have plenty. If Seth peered through the gap - the entire tunnels size more or less twice the height of Seth - he would see several of these outcroppings, eloquently designed defensive posts. Someone had been preparing for a war. Who?
It had been a bad year to be a Mandalorian, Fenn Shysa reflected. Not quite as bad as 3,960 BBY, which was a year the Mandalorians had never recovered from, but a bad year nonetheless. To be fair, Fenn felt, there hadn't been a good year on Mandalore since the Battle of Galidraan. No Mandalore, no Fett, and a decimated army. Little income, and a attacked by the Republic before the Clone Wars were up. Then the Empire had come, and two decades of fighting them off had restored Mandalore, and, eventually Mandalore sector by the end of last year, to a galactic standing. Independent, and in a decent enough position to help the galaxy fend off the Nagai, and exchange blows with Lord Shadowspawn. It wasn't long after Mindor, however, that someone using Imperial Star Destroyers had hit Mandalore, and hit them hard - just as he was meeting with Fett at last. Fenn was busy regrouping a scattered people, and it was taking time. Who it had been was a mystery - there were more than enough powers using Imperial Star Destroyers nowadays, and Fenn had been more concerned about recovering his people than enacting any particular revenge. That would come later. And so, idly lounging with his feet up in a creaking wooden chair, Mandalore Fenn Shysa looked at the youngster before him. A thirteen year old, having just become a man, was meeting him today. Alec Nephrite. Fenn had a lot of jobs coming in, and this particular one was going to take up too much of his time. There were already rumours that the auretiise considered him and Fett dead, and one 'Nakir' was being considered as the new Mandalore. They'd get a shock when Fenn reappeared, no doubt. "I 'ave a job I don't 'ave time to take, Alec. In the Moddell Sector. Got a man paying a pretty fine amount, if you're interested. Dr. Follnor Callat. You might of 'eard of him, from time to time." Fenn leaned forward. "But I need you to do something for me while you're at it. Mandalore's personal request, and all that." "Interested?"
The area had grown quiet in the aftermath of Seth's betrayal. The incline down from the surface from the cave mouth had deposited them in a massive cavern, it became apparent. Wires were along the floor, responsible for the gravitic and magnetic shifts - the latter no longer about - and the cavern ran in two directions. One direction led to a dead end, the direction they had been making their way towards, a hole in the floor which led deeper into Shadow, where the tentacles had taken the late Alec and Nill, and the wires went down that gap. Directly above that hole for the wires was a tunnel, denured into the stone and carving up, into the mountain. The tunnels split into a labyrinth, which is where Seth had headed. The other direction simply headed into the depths, distance making it difficult to see. Though the noise that came from them was obvious. A buzzing noise, the fluttering of wings. Dozens of wings. Gorog. They were coming to claim their prize, and divide and conquer His tools. Otherwise all would be ruined. The Gorog fluttered up, towards the remaining four. Mal, Driggs, Isis and Cara, going her own way as they spoke. Don't panic, I claim what is rightfully mine., the Force said, to them all. The Killiks landed between Cara and the others, chittering mandibles, and the same black-blue carapace. The Blue One seeks to kill the Kind. They could all here the voice, within their minds, as Force sensitives all, latent or revealed. Cara, through the Gorog poison in her mind. I need you four to survive, to save the Kind. I must show Cara something in the depths. You three must stop the Blue One. There was an invasion of Cara's mind - there was no other word for the probing question. Seth. Will you three stop Seth? It was a deal with a mind more sure of itself than anything the Jedi or Chiss had reported during the Swarm War - a Killik mind? -- For Seth himself, the tunnels smelt of Killiks. Stale, dead Killiks. Their pheromones were everywhere. This had been a nursery, relatively recently. Bodies lined the floors, Killiks in various states of disarray, as if they had been squashed to the ground by some enormous fly-swat. Gravitics? However, the tunnels unveiled a rocky outcropping, and a collection of Killiks behind it. The roof had been bent, seemingly, as to had the ceiling - interchangeable terms in Seth's situation, the rock meeting and creation an opening which seemed designed to shoot through. Anyone proceeding up the tunnel would have no cover, and Seth would have plenty. If Seth peered through the gap - the entire tunnels size more or less twice the height of Seth - he would see several of these outcroppings, eloquently designed defensive posts. Someone had been preparing for a war. Who? -- The plant-monster hadn't given up. The thick-trunked tentacles - two massive ones - emerged, driving up into the midst of the group. It slapped between Mal and the others, driving Mal towards the tunnel, and the others towards the Gorog swarm, which was circling between those three and Mal, chittering at the tentacles, blocking the path of Cara, Driggs and Isis to the tentacles with their mass. Behind them, down the slope they'd taken into the cavern, came more tentacles - three more, reaching for each of them. A perfectly coordinated move. Suddenly, Mal had been drove up to the 'ledge' where Seth had retreated. Gorog suddenly cried out. Hang on! The gravity reshifted, pulling down Cara, Driggs and Isis, and leaving Mal up a level with Seth - Seth, who would be able to see that Mal was there, only half a dozen meters away. The group had been split, once more - the plant creature certainly knew what it was doing. Now Mal was a dozen meters above them all, and such a leap would injure him gravely. In the violence, the Jedi were too busy to help him down - especially as the tentacles began smashing at the roof, dropping down the ceiling to split them up even more... permanently - especially if the Jedi didn't retreat into the depths. Cara, however, was gone. In the confusion, elements of the Gorog swarm had grabbed her skin, hair and clothes with their mandibles and were carrying her away - she had to be saved - she had to be saved. In her mind, however, all she heard was laughter. Cold, terrible laughter - as she abandoned her comrades, as she watched them struggle with the tentacles and the crashing roof, Mal up on the ledge with Seth, Isis and Driggs being left behind. Cara vanished into the myriad tunnels which also filled the depths, but she had the impression she was being pulled towards something. A very distinct impression.
"Absolutely, Mand'alor." Fenn unfolded his legs and leaned forward, placing his helmet on his head so he could send the file to Alecs HUD. He read it out, nonetheless, preferring to brief his soldiers in the fashion that people had before technology rendered social interaction pointless. "Callat is se'rching for the Alsakan Tessent, which b'longed to the Alsakan Royal Family b'fore b'ing stol'n by a dar'jetii, apparently. Callat wants some muscle for 'is expedition into the Moddell Sector to find it." As he spoke, summarising Callat's flowery university language, links to the HoloNet appeared around several terms - Callat, Alsakan Tessent, Alsakan, Moddell Sector - which could be blinked at and opened up if necessary, for more information. Fenn took off his helmet, done with his mission briefing. "Now 'ere's w'at I need you to do f'r me, Alec. I need you to paint y'r armour the same colour as mine, and I want y'r to take the Free Mandalore with you. I need y'r to distract the Imps while I try something. G't it?"
Mal smiled slightly at Driggs. "Some tea would be great, especially after the swill the Chiss seem to think is good." Alas, tea was simply not meant to be had as a noise started coming from one of the tunnels. "Hold that..." Grabbing up his blaster rifle, and leaving Cara's slung across his back, he knelt and watched the tunnel. Seeing that nothing had come out, and the noises were still getting louder which hinted at many things coming from quite a distance, the Trooper grabbed his helmet and sealed it on. Then the magnetics shut off, and everything metalix was suddenly it's own weight again. Sagging slightly under the sudden weight and unexpected weight gain, Mal restablished his equalibruim and sited up the tunnel utterly unaware of what the others were doing. What he saw coming out of the tunnel froze his blood. Killiks. Lots and lots of killiks. Maybe this is a better day to die than I thought. "Cover! Everyone back and find some kind of cover!" Not that really was much in their current predicament. Mal decided to stay exactly where he was, creating something of a gap between himself and the others. Lining up a shot, knowing smooth was fast, and fast equaled more kills. Just as his finger was starting to squeeze the trigger a Voice exploded into his mind. It was the same voice as before, saying that the Killik's were not a threat. Yea, and a nexu won't tear your face off if you give it the chance. Deciding to ignore the voice, not knowing if anyone else had heard it even, Mal finished pulling the trigger and a bugs face exploded showering gore everywhere. The Voice wasn't done talking, however. Another killik head exploded, and Mal heard in his head that the Blue One wanted to kill the Kind. More gore showered into the air. Voice was now talking about survival, and how it needed the four of them to do so. Then call off the buggies pal.[i] Again, one of the bugs heads popped. The smell of ozone was again heavy in the air. Cara was supposed to be taken. [i]Over my dead body. He was not leaving a team member to the killiks. A monster he very well may have been, but even monsters can have honor in their own way. More heads popped, and then they were past him utterly ignoring the black clad menace who had ended the lives of many Kind up on the surface, and had continued his killing ways. In some ways killing was all Mal knew. It had been his bread and butter for years, and that kind of thing takes it's toll on even the hardest of men. And there comes a time that they all realize it. Mal's time had not yet come. Being ignored by a swarm of bugs that had previously tried everything to remove one's head form one's shoulders is rather unnerving. Voice continued on, saying that it needed the three of them to kill the Blue One. Seth. Blinking slowly, Mal was a bit surprised that this Voice wanted the same thing that he did very much as well. Maybe the situation hadn't gone to hell... Maybe. Then again maybe it had. Tentacles decided to show up again, and these were not the tiny one's from earlier. Huge was only begining to cover it, and Mal dove forward to get away from them. Killik started going slightly crazy, and not that the Stormtrooper could actually see what was going on. From the sounds of things it was not pleasant, as three more cracks and shudders came from the ground. Why can't this thing just leave us the bleeding hell alone? Not having time to really figure that out, Mal ran and made a grab for his pack. Leaving it behind now that he was cut off from the rest of the group would be utter suicide. Abruptly Mal found himself under attack, and the only way to go was up. Quickly pulling out his grappling gun, Mal fired up at a ledge he had noticed that was above the wires. It found purchase somewhere, and started retracting. Mal, however, was finding himself rather out of room at the moment. Lunging forward away from the tentacles that were now attempting to crush him, he hit the fast retract switch and was then flying through the air. Gaining the ledge, Mal looked around quickly and saw several dead bugs around. Then he spotted the outcroppings, and how they were absolutely perfect for defense. However those were not the most pressing of concerns at the moment. Seth. Seth was the single most prominent feature of this cave. Droping to the ground, providing as little silhouette as possible he quickly lined up a shot on the traitorous chiss. As a result of this he was ignoring everything that was happening behind him in the cavern. Right as he was going to take the shot the roof collapsed, shaking everything around it. Instead of it's intended location it ended splashing harmlessly off one of the outcropping. And odds were he wouldn't have the chance for another one. Shouldering the other rifle, Mal drew his pistol as he rose to his feet. The chase was on, and he couldn't be sure if the hidious laughter that erupted in his mind was his own... or the Voice.
There was a tremor, but Seth was already prepared for the coming onslaught. He had positioned several of the dead killik bodies in defensive stands, guarding from any attempts of blasterfire coming from the tunnel that he had traversed to get here. The tunnel left whoever was approaching severely exposed and unprotected. In other words, he saw Mal Judder approaching long before the trooper saw him and he had planned accordingly. His original plan was to let the man fire first. Normally, this would be suicidal, but Seth had weighed the pros against the cons and was sure that his counterattack would end Judder's life. His trust in Judder's lack of aiming was founded by how the Imperial had moved down the tunnel, broad and fearless. Giving himself up on a silver platter would confuse and anger Judder, focusing his accuracy and hesitating not on the trigger. The lack of accurate scoping, however, would put him out of harm's way and Seth would simply counterattack with his blasters faster than Mal Judder would have to time to realize that he had missed and that he was now among the dead. His plan, obviously, had not turned out as the Chiss had wanted. The tremor was vast and violent, bringing down the ceiling in some parts of the cavern. More importantly, he had not accounted for Judder's speed and had the tremor not manifested itself when it had, Seth might be dead now. But, alas, he was not and Judder was now in clearer sight, even, than before. Judder had risen and with the quickness of a cathar, Seth's pistol was aimed and he had fired two shots, then ducked behind an outcrop, drawing his weapon's twin. Mistakenly, the man had assumed that this would be a chase and not a fight. He had probably thought that the Chiss' betrayal and hegira was out of cowardice; that Seth would continue to run until he had devised a plan to fight back. What Mal Judder did not know was that, in spite of the political head games he had played hitherto, Seth was also a warrior. Mal Judder had forgotten that Seth was part of the Ascendancy military and his legacy would be legendary!
Driggs was a blur, cutting at tentacles and Gorog alike. Cara didn't even notice, immune to the pain the nest was feeling. The confusion was palpable in the Force, but more Gorog appeared, and Cara vanished down the tunnel. Just as suddenly the wires lining the floor parted, a large hole in the ground appearing. The Force filled with concern, and suddenly a powerful grip reached out for Driggs and Isis, the tentacles entangled with the remaining Gorog. In their minds, Gorog rumbled, and the creatures went from ignoring the two - despite Driggs' best efforts to slaughter them - to chittering threats at Isis and Driggs. Don't! With a yank, the two were pulled down, the tunnel walls not of rock but of metal. Lights began to illuminate the depths, and, just as suddenly, they were dropped, the Force releasing the for but a moment, and then the grip appeared again, hesitant, as if being newly learnt. The wires moved back to cover the opening, and the Force dropped the two into a room, the ceiling snapping shut. In the room there were consoles, and a ceiling-to-floor tube, six meters long, the tube open. Corridors were evident through the doorway. But that wouldn't have drew the eyes of Isis and Driggs. What would have drawn their eyes was the entire naked human standing before them, a man in his early thirties, approximately, with dark brown tousled hair on his head, and ice-blue eyes, strangely complimenting his pale skin. "Hi." "My name is Anakin Solo." --- Thirty Five Years Earlier "Yes Manda'lor," Alec replied, Fenn detecting the young mans surprise at the request. It was a surprise, no doubt - why would Mandalore trust such a relative noob, as Stormies called their new soldiers? Simply for that reason. Alec was not a known member of the Supercommandos, but his ancestors were among the greatest Mandalorians since Mandalore the Immortal, the fool who started off the Mandalorian Conflict way back in 200 BBY. Fenn allowed his smirk to enter his face, and chuckled, softly. "Don't y'r worry abu't it, Alec. Y'll do y'r old man proud." Fenn handed a datacrystal to the Mandalorian. "You b'st go g't to know the Free Mandalore. She's a beaut, b't 'as 'er quirks." Winking, Fenn pulled himself up from the rocking chair, tucking his helmet under his head. "Make a mess f'r me, will ya? Ne'd you to ke'p a low profile, b't not too low a profile. Know what I mean?" With that, Fenn headed off, waving behind him. "I parked 'er at t'e tower. G't going, Alec." --- Inside Cara's Mind Eyes closed, the Hapan assassin was in a state of bliss. Gorog enfolded her, wrapping her in its mind. No. Her mind. When her eyes opened, she would not be aware of being carried by the Killiks down into their nest - their old nest in the mountain having been abandoned millennia ago - but would instead be aware of what Gorog was feeding her mind, via the poison in brain. Roughly thirty-thousand years ago... When Cara opened her eyes she was no longer dressed in her Hapan uniform. In-fact, she was dressed in the red skin of a Sith, a Massassi, adorned in armour which was more in tone with knights of ancient time, wielding a Sith sword. Surrounding her there were screams and death, explosions from rockets and the roar of Tukata as they bound around the battlefield with their owners. "My Lord Gorog, look out!" The voice came in the Sith language, but understanding filled Cara's mind, the body responding as it was her own. After a fashion, it was - it belonged to Gorog, the original Sith that bore that name thirty millennia ago. Cara understood this, but then she realised a Sith sword was held on her belt, and that the Sith that had called her name was pointing. To her left, emerging from a grove, was a considerably taller and more well built Massassi than her, her mind instantly recognising that as the Lord Farsk, the Shadow Hand - her greatest opponent on Korriban. The man brandished a long and wicked looking sword at Cara, pointing the tip at her. "Night Herald! I challenge you to meet your death!" With that, he roared, lunging forward and stabbing out.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Assumptions were always stupid, and he'd made a damned big one in assuming that the idiot chiss was going to run. Instead he drew his pistol very quickly, and fired leaving Mal with very little time to react. But then it wasn't like he'd not been in this kind of situation before. He just normally dudn't have a pack on his back when trying to charge people. In a way, it actually aided him, for the moment. Dropping, faster than he would have minus the however many pounds on his back, the shot glanced off of his shoulder guard. Mal was immensely thankful for the higher spec armor he had over regular troopers. That and the angle helped a heck of a lot. But he'd still been hit, and that was less than pleasant. Ending up against a wall due to the force of the energy. That and he had a rather sore left shoulder now. At least laying on his stomach he had the pack helping to guard him, and he was no longer outlined by the entrance to the cavern like he had been. Going into drill mode, he scrambled forward as quickly as he could until he was against the first abutement, and out of line of sight. Deciding to play off the other's obvious desire to make a name for himself, Mal decided on the suicidal approach. Pulling out the thermal detonator, equipped with deadmans switch and all, he raised it with the button deppressed. "I really don't think you wanna shoot me Seth. Unless you feel like becoming a whole lot of nothing." He wagged his hand, red light flashing on the orb in his black gauntleted hand. "I'll give you thirty seconds to run, and if you fire again... well, we both get to go up in a flash of light." Once he was out of this predicament, more options woudl be open to him. Judder was not pleased with himself for doing something as stupid as to silouhette himself in a cave entrance, but given the situation he could forgive himself. After all, it wasn't every day that plant roots tried to crush you into some ugly little smear on the floor.
Anakin Solo looked glum as Isis spoke. ““That is impossible. Anakin Solo gave his life in the twenty-seventh year after the battle of Yavin IV. His death was witnessed by at least seven Jedi, and others.” His expression sank even further as Driggs caught up. "Your Anakin Solo, thee Anakin Solo who died glowing in the force saving your older siblings, mechanically gifted by the force, and helped me with some repairs before you went and got killed Anakin Solo? You sure not Anakiin Soloo or something? Not that it isn't nice to see you again, because I'm sure the entire Corellia Sector will rejoice as well as the Galactic Alliance and the Jedi Order. But what in the five worlds are you doing here?"[/i] Anakin laughed at the last. “Well, evidently I’m not the Anakin Solo. I remember dying… and even a little of being cremated.” Anakin screwed up his face at that experience. “I think… Centerpoint not only took an impression of me when I used the weapon, it also kept tabs on me, somehow, linking me to the station. So my memories of this place only began when I died.” Anakin shrugged. “I have been trapped underground for sometime, but the recent fighting – which I’d love to hear about, incidentally – freed up some of the mountain. But now the Killiks are running around, so I’ve been busy with them. But I’ll explain on the way, we need to hurry – I need your help.” Anakin went to turn, and seemed to recall something. “Um...” Anakin tried to sound neutral, but he shifted his legs, moving his hand appropriately, a blush creeping into his face. “I don’t suppose you have some spare clothes? The Celestials didn’t, well, wear any, so I’ve been like this for a while now.”
The Free Mandalore was a beautiful ship. Well armed, manoeuvrable, and capable of taking a solid punch and still going. Just like a Mandalorian. When Alec made his way to the ship, he found a Mandalorian in green armour sitting on a tree-trunk, an un-gloved hand touching the hull. His helmet was on, and the man seemed caught in some sort of trance. As Alec approached, the man spoke up. “I’m Gotab, before you ask. Crazy wild folk from up north…” He paused, as if he had something else to say, and had to work out a way to say it. “I’m a Kiffu, with a skill in psychometry. Yes, I’m free with my secrets.” “But you’re going into some serious danger. I can tell. You must be careful.” With that, Gotab withdrew from the Free Mandalore, hobbling off away fro the ship.
Lord Farsk impaled his blade on Cara’s servant, who dutifully screamed. He managed to get his Sith sword free a moment after Cara kicked him down, his leg giving away. Farsk rolled, Cara’s blow smashing into the ground. The big man stood, shoving out with the Force at Cara’s side to imbalance her, and then bounded forward, fingers clawed to grab at her head and crush it. In the background, the violence was beginning to subside, and all that could be heard were screams. An impasse between the Sith armies had arisen, and both sides were falling apart. Cara was caught in this dream, in Gorog’s dream, but peripheral awareness of her body, being carried by the Killik horde, touched her. It ebbed away, and the dream took over again. A solid push could free her, but she was too busy in this dream-world to act.