Before - Legends Silent Scream (The Jedi Exile, Malachor V)

Title: Silent Scream
Timeframe: 3960 BBY
Characters: Jedi Exile
Keywords: Jedi Exile, Malachor V, Mandalorian Wars
Summary: The Exile relives her worst nightmare.
Notes: This story uses the name Sareth Dorn for the Exile, as that was what I named her on my first playthrough of the game.

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[i]?As if millions of voices cried out in terror, and were suddenly silenced.?[/i]
- Obi-Wan Kenobi

Sareth Dorn could hear ghosts. Thousands, tens of thousands of souls, screaming in her head. Some cried out in pain, others in fear, yet others in abject despair. She knew many of these wretched wraiths, for she had lived with them, fought alongside them, bled with them. And she had killed them all.

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[i]She stood on the bridge of the[/i] Centurion,[i] the sounds of battle around her. The woman could feel the weariness in her men, but also their trust in their general. She glanced at her tactical projector and saw the fleet of their leader, whom they had come to know as Revan, slowly but surely pushing the Mandalorians toward her. She watched as Revan?s [/i]Vengeance[i] drew alongside the Mandalore?s[/i] Kandosii.[i] Soon the warlord of those savages would be gone, and it would be the perfect time to strike, and make sure they never threatened the citizens of the galaxy ever again.

The battle unfolded as she and others loyal to their leader and the Republic looked on. It was a battle worthy of an epic, with much heroism and bravery on both sides. But as the battle reached her, she knew the time had come to put an end to it. The Mandalorians deserved to be destroyed for all that they had done; all the countless worlds left burning or enslaved, all the people they had massacred or conscripted into their hideous horde. She turned to her tech specialist, and gave him confirmation of his orders.

The weapon that had been prepared, the trap they had fallen into, the Mandalorians could not escape. Torn apart by gravitational forces beyond comprehension, the enemy fleet was rendered unrecognizable by the destruction that she had unleashed. But such a force cannot be fully controlled, and Republic ships were destroyed just as easily as those of the Mando?ade. A shockwave of desolation that transcended time and space buffeted her as squadrons and flotillas were engulfed.

And then, there was nothing. Nothing but pain. It was as if her eyes had been plunged into a sun. Surely she would die. Surely her flame of existence would be snuffed out by this tempest. All the hells ever imagined could not compare to this.[/i]

 

That was well done. Will there be more? I hope so!

 

That's amazing poingnant and terrifying. When you're playing the game as the Exile, you can't really express yourself through the character the pain that that last battle caused, and she won't tell you about it... since she's you in a sense. You really did a great job in painting that picture in just a short vignette.

 

LaForzaViva: Thanks! No promises on anything more, but I do have a few ideas.

SoA: I appreciate it. The Exile is one of my all-time favorite characters, and I enjoy trying to get inside her head.

 

Here's just a little bit that I've been holding onto for awhile. Hopefully working on my piece for the KOTOR collab group will get me motivated to move this story along.

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[b]II: Aftermath[/b]

[i]Amidst the blackness of the universe, there is a galaxy of light. There, life flourishes to such an extent that its energy overflows from the crude matter from whence it came. This energy, this force, surrounds the galaxy. It penetrates the galaxy. And it binds the galaxy together. But even in the galaxy of light, there are dark places where few tread, tears in the fabric of life. Far from the bright center, near the very edge of the disk, one such place has been born. The orange fire of a star illuminates what was once a planet, but now is a lifeless shattered husk. The remains of the world are in several pieces, and seem to be held together by a strange green lightning that shackles the shards to one another. Surrounding this corpse are thousands of metal slivers. Slivers that in turn contain corpses of their own.[/i]

 

You don't write much, but you pack a lot of impact into your words. Well done on both entries. Is there more? Because I'd definitely read it.

 

III: The Tell-Tale Heart

A heart beats. But the blood that it pumps does not have the rhythm of life. Instead it is filled with a discord of death, circulating and magnifying razors of psychic anguish. The undead one exists within a mausoleum of metal of its own design. The monster?s creator finishes his business with the warlord, and takes his chosen ones toward their dark doom. The monster and the rest of the rabble are left to their own devices. Slowly, they begin to recover, and seek the few space-worthy ships remaining. Onboard the Centurion, its martial grandeur reduced to a husk, a Zabrak searches the ruins of the bridge. Nothing. Just as he turns to leave, a hand erupts from the wreckage. Does the monster yet live?

A heart beats. Even without the Force, there is life. Of a sort.

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That should be it for this theme, I think. Now Sareth has to journey to Coruscant, and I think that deserves its own thread. Thanks for the encouragement everyone!

 

These last two parts are so vivid with terror and destruction. Well done!

I can't wait to see what you come up for the collab.