Beyond - Legends [ updated 7/21 ] - Cruel Honor - mystery/romance - (19yr post-NJO)

: I've been on vacation so the brain hasn't been functioning.

Mine isn't either... and I don't even have a vacation to blame it on!

 

* * *

Heralds of things to come often speak with voices of the past.


Master Chief Galvin Tercion?

Retired, but yes. I'm he.


Whether such things were preludes to destiny unfolding or history simply repeating itself for the benefit of those blessed with short memories, Galvin wouldn't hazard a guess.


Forgive the disturbance, sir, but I'm trying to locate the family of a Kuati woman named Qi'qua Brash.


All he knew was the sense of heightened awareness that accompanied the knot forming in his gut informed him that something was about to happen while he pushed through the din of people to keep up with Ben.


Look no further. She's my mother.


The premonition brought him to a halt, not screeching in the back of his mind like an alarm, but rather a subtle prompting that his life and the will of the Living Force were about to collide.

As he stood there among the crowd, he reflected that it was a premonition he had experienced only once before in his life.


Then, I'm sorry, sir. It is my sad duty to inform you of her recent death.


Even when he locked eyes with a ragged old woman sitting against the wall of the corridor and staring at him in gaping awe, his mind only vaguely recalled her from memory. Her withered face was scarred by the insertion and removal of the bony Yuuzhan Vong implants once used to usurp control of the victim's mind and turn free people into mindless slaves, the skin now flax and drooping in their absence. Distortion, hardship, and age piled on her like layers of so much debris covering a street, refusing his eyes while he tried so hard to place her.

Only a name - his name - framed by the lips of this wraith resurrected a two-decade old memory and brought back from the dead the name of his mother's closest friend.

"Litan?" he asked softly, stepping cautiously toward her as both joy and terror seemed to mingle in her eyes.

"Oh, Galvin," she whispered while he knelt beside her. She drew her knees up and turned her face away from him as though ashamed. "It's really you?"

"Yes, Nada," he replied, reaching out to touch her sunken face and coax her to look at him. "I'm here."

Her weary eyes blinked away some fierce dread. "Nada?" she asked. "You call me Nada?"

Galvin's brow wrinkled as he smiled. "I've always called you Nada."

"But... now? When you've come to deliver me to hell?"

His concern etched itself onto his face. She obviously recognized him, and remembered. But something about her seemed... off.

"No," he answered. "I've come to take you home."

"Home... hell... Same place," she mumbled. "From hell to hell I go... At least this time is the last time."

"Home, Nada," he insisted, worried about whether her mind even comprehended him. "I'm going to take you home. Back to Ord Mantell."

"I was with her there, you know... when they took us away..."

"Her? My mother? You were with her during the invasion?"

"Oh, yes," she sighed, tilting her head and smiling. "We were the best of friends."

Galvin nodded in assurance. "Of course you were, Nada."

"Together... from hell to hell... through everything."

Galvin reached over and took her hand in his. At that point, he felt an immense wave of relief that despite the troubles his mother had endured, she didn't have to face them alone.

"We worked so hard... even when they brought us here..." Her withered face fell and the shining gleam of tears appeared around the edges of her eyes. "Then we grew old... couldn't sell ourselves for food. The men didn't want us anymore."

Galvin fought to suppress his sudden nausea. He didn't exactly know what he had expected that his mother had done to survive in this wretched place for fifteen years, but that hadn't been on the list. "It's over now," he told her. "You can go home."

The terror in her eyes returned. "You don't understand... she was my best friend!"

"I know."

"No!" she cried. "I've been praying this

 

Frikk...

just...

frikk...

AUGH!

Wow!

Nada...

I don't think I've ever used this emoticon, but...



That was so...

You're making me into a sentence-incompetent idiot. That whole thing had me holding my breath.

 

Oh. Holy. Freakin'. I mean . . . Wow.

That was . . . powerful just seems like such a pale word, but I just can't think of what else to say.

If I try to comment on all of the posts I've missed individually, I might never get this reply finished, so let me just say that they've all been outstanding and I can't wait for more!

 

Ishy: You're making me into a sentence-incompetent idiot. That whole thing had me holding my breath.

So, I make you cry, stumble over words, and hold your breath?

If I had a nickel for every time a woman has said that to me... (ba-dum ching!)


Jags_Scoundrel:

She lives!

: Oh. Holy. Freakin'. I mean . . . Wow.

Ooh... another stumbler!

: That was . . . powerful just seems like such a pale word, but I just can't think of what else to say.

Whatever works

Glad to see you around again!

 

that was sooo sad!!!!

 

I know

Thanks for reading

 

OOh amazing Arin....poor Galvin...ACK! Very well written though...so sad...:'(

 

: poor Galvin...ACK!

Indeed

: Very well written though..

Thanks!

 

Oh, wow.

*is speechless*

That was one heck of a marathon read to begin with, and then that last post . . ..



Your writing absolutely amazes me. I love the style, I love the wordplay, I love the characters (need to go read On the Shoulders of Giants now methinks) . . . wow.

Just an example of what I like so much about this story:

Or maybe it's simply not possible to cast to the ground one born to walk the sky.

What a line! Love it. Fantastic job with everything so far, Arin; keep up the amazing work!

 

Shlablang! Jeez, man, brng in da angst, pour on the anguish!

Now that is pure Arin with some Ishie thrown in...

Hey, look, I'm only two days late responding! Yay!

Wonderful last two posts!

Oooff, the forgiveness/time thing hurt...

-Yours in Absentia (Really, I'm workin' my @$$ off over here...)

JediTristan (!)

 

hi!! wens the next post???

 

nanner: *is speechless*



: Your writing absolutely amazes me. I love the style, I love the wordplay, I love the characters

Flattery will get you everywhere...

: Fantastic job with everything so far, Arin; keep up the amazing work!

Thanks!

Tris: Shlablang! Jeez, man, brng in da angst, pour on the anguish! Now that is pure Arin with some Ishie thrown in...

Aww... I love giving you warm, happy feelings

: Oooff, the forgiveness/time thing hurt...

Yeah... I don't know if anyone picked up on it, but Galvin was facing the same test as Kali did in SoG.

: Wonderful last two posts!

Thanks! And I hope you get to be online more in the near future. I miss your onomatopoeia.

sabers12: hi!! wens the next post???

New post coming tomorrow... er, later today... Thursday

 

* * *

His quarry was elusive, but sheer determination helped Ben keep close behind the lithe silhouette of the silver-skinned beauty trying to outrun him. She was obviously far more familiar than he with the layout of Ord Nalax, and after a brief moment of uncertain direction, Ben nearly thought she had escaped him.

The sound of feet sprinting lightly down an adjacent, darkened corridor, however, kept the hunt alive. Everything within him wanted to cry out to her - to let her know he wasn't a danger and that he'd come to help, not hurt.

Of course, the fact that he was now running headlong down a darkened corridor on a space station far away from home with no weapons or even Galvin behind him for backup should have alerted him to the potential for danger, but nothing in the Force hinted of that possibility, so he relied on his feelings and plunged himself into the unknown.

The unknown then came to an abrupt end, the darkened corridor terminating at a large double-door entryway to a place of business. There had been no other ways she could have gone, so pausing to recover his breath, Ben palmed the door's control panel and felt a slight hint of relief that the doors slid open quietly to permit him to enter.

"Vel Pressio!" cried the ecstatic voice of an older man seated amidst a crowd of what appeared to be dock-workers in the middle of some kind of labor meeting, all assembled around a large table near the entryway. "So kind of you to finally drop by to see me."

Ben glanced at the man with his scraggly beard and unlit cigarra hanging from the corner of his mouth, then took in the rather perturbed expressions of the assembled workers. Judging from the warehouse-style layout of the large area behind them, Ben could only guess that this was some sort of cargo-shipping company.

"Leave," the older man grunted, prompting a reluctant scattering of the assembly before gestured Ben toward him with a broad smile. "Come, Mister Pressio, have a seat. Have a drink. Jorran's the name. Jorran Helvik. I'm the proprietor of this little industry."

Ben fell into the practiced composure of his assumed identity. "A pleasure," he replied, giving the man a slight nod of greeting.

"I'd rather been hoping you'd make to see me while you were here on Ol' Nalax," the old man sighed with apparent happiness. "I was beginning to wonder whether you were going to make it to me or not."

"Well, Mister Helvik..."

"Jorran, please," the man grunted impatiently. "My last name is a Hutt curse, so I'll please you to not say it too loud or too often."

Ben chuckled. "That has to be inconvenient."

Jorran waved at him dismissively. "At one time, maybe. I'm well-known enough on Ol' Nalax now for it to not be a problem."

Ben took a seat in one of the chairs vacated by the workers and waited for Jorran to pour something in a transparent tumbler and casually push it across the table to him. Glancing at the golden liquid, Ben gauged its clarity and decided it looked safe enough to drink.

"I'm curious what's brought you here, though," Jorran remarked as Ben picked up the tumbler and swished the substance like he knew what he was doing. "Y'appeared like you was looking for something... or someone."

"Oh, that... yes," Ben answered, imbibing a little bit of the golden liquid. He found it quite pleasant, and very sweet on his tongue, but quickly found that it left a trail of fiery heat all the way down his throat, stealing his breath away and making him cough. That had the unfortunate effect of pushing the stuff's vapors into his sinuses, alighting them as well.

It left no mystery as to why his father preferred hot chocolate.

Jorran cackled. "Wonderful stuff, Na'horska. It's a brandy, distilled from some cheap gleezwort wine. I'm amazed how they can take something so awful and make it into that divine sauce."

"It's... incredible," he wheezed, trying to shake off the liquor's burning sensations while at the same time trying to pretend that he actually enjoyed the experience. "However," he ma

 

OOh awesome post! Loved Ben's reaction to hard liquor, and seeing why daddy likes hot chocolate. :-D Good boy. Loved how it sickened him too

STPUPID Sith... he needs to leave Bennipoo alone. Almost pity Jorran.

Excelllent work!

 

Ben's reaction to Jorran's suggestions was good. I was disgusted as well. Ben's cover is blown. This is not good. Though if he can finagle it, he might come out on top. Jorran has gotten himself into more trouble than he can handle. That had to have hurt. Actually, that might have killed him.

 

Luney: Loved Ben's reaction to hard liquor, and seeing why daddy likes hot chocolate.

There's a first time for everything, I suppose...

: STPUPID Sith... he needs to leave Bennipoo alone.

Bennipoo?

: Almost pity Jorran.

Almost... but not quite.

: Excelllent work!

Thanks!

Mommy: Ben's reaction to Jorran's suggestions was good. I was disgusted as well.

T'weren't no fun to write neither

: Ben's cover is blown. This is not good.

Nope. Not good at all.

: Though if he can finagle it, he might come out on top.

Maybe!

: Jorran has gotten himself into more trouble than he can handle. That had to have hurt.

Yes and yes.

: Actually, that might have killed him.

We're not quite that lucky.

 

Heehee...Joran's in a bad way. I liked the interesting interpretation of their purpose their as well as Malevol's (I HATE THAT NAME!) little eyeball-exploding trick at the end.

 

Whoops! I remember seeing that this was updated . . . just forgot to reply. (I think DRL has finally fried what little was left of my brain )

Of course, the fact that he was now running headlong down a darkened corridor on a space station far away from home with no weapons or even Galvin behind him for backup should have alerted him to the potential for danger, but nothing in the Force hinted of that possibility, so he relied on his feelings and plunged himself into the unknown.

** shakes head ** Poor kid, he can't help it - it's genetic!

"You're here for my little Nelomian girl," Jorran continued, "and you're here with that Tercion fellow. He's no bodyguard."
[. . .]
"It seems your 'bodyguard' spent the last several years doing humanitarian work on Asmeru," Jorran answered, crossing his arms.

Okay, this guy knows way too much. Not good.

Jorran stood up and brushed himself off. "Damn things. I would have too, if I'd known I was rescuing Bornan Thul's son-"

Raynar - ** catches a glimpse of a menacing, dark figure in the shadows start to raise a hand ** um, I mean Lord Malevol! I knew Jorran knew too much. Really not good.

Jorran cried in pain when he saw the Dark Lord's hand clench into a fist and twist. A flash of agony throttled him and the sensation of warm fluid spilling down his face preceded his blissful fall into darkened unconsciousness.

Ewww! But wonderfully written though. That was graphic without, well, being graphic.

Looking forward to more!