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Chapter Seven Six Just
out of sight, behind the debris field surrounding the planet of Corellia, a
single, black and silver freighter lays in wait like a patient predator. Its
pilot continues to scan the area as each ship uses the well-known, smuggler’s
entry point to the planet. Silently, he watches as each ship drops in from
hyperspace, recalculates their trajectory into the planet’s atmosphere and
heads away from the hidden entry vector. Smugglers have been using this point
since the battle that was waged to create the debris field that now resides
here. The debris acts as a shield for approaching vessels, making it nearly
impossible for the ground teams to detect their entry. However, the debris also
acts as a perfect ambush for the many pirates who frequent Corellian space, and
no one stays in this position for very long as a result. The
pilot must react quickly to every vessel entering from hyperspace in order to
determine their destination vector. This is no pirate looking for a choice
score; no, this is a man on a mission. He is only looking for a single ship from
all the entering vessels. He tracked the ship in question’s hyperspace exit
vector from Chandrila, and determined where it was headed. Knowing a faster
route to the Corellian Sector, the pilot prepared to catch the man entering the
planet’s atmosphere from this entry point, and was certain this would be the
right place to watch the ship and ascertain where it was headed. He
knew the pilot of the ship he was tracking was not the one behind the recent
strife on Chandrila, the strife that took away the only person he ever truly
cared about. He knew that he had to restrain his impulse to wring the very life
out of this person with his bare hands (at least for the moment) so that he
would lead the pilot to the ones responsible for his own private hell. However,
once he had that information, he was ready to dispatch the sinister, dark man
from this universe and send him violently into the next. As the thought enters
his mind, he clenches his gloved left hand so tightly that the leather becomes
so taught around his fist, that it is nearly ready to burst the very seams of
his glove. Taking
a deep breath, he clears his mind, as he must have all of his senses to complete
this part of his quest. Just then, an angular, Kuati, single-person vessel drops
out of hyperspace before him. Quickly scanning the ship and determining its
identity, he watches it move into position, inputing each angle and vector into
his navi-computer. When the vessel drops down into the atmosphere, he slowly
fires up his sublight engines (making sure the other vessel is in no position to
spot the glow), and moves into position to make for the surface himself. Going
over the calculations coming from his navi-computer, he knows there is only one
place that ship could be heading. And if he is right, there will be a very high
toll to pay for each of their undertakings this day. Victor Orion would see to
that, even if it was the last thing he ever did. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With
the morning sun at his a back, a man sits casually at his patio table enjoying
his first meal of the day. Meticulously cutting up the bits of nerf sausage and
putting a single piece on his fork along with a bit of the aviata eggs also
residing on his plate, the man appears to be the picture of contentment.
Enjoying each morsel of the finely prepared meal, he pauses only to enjoy a sip
of the mimosarla juice beside his plate. As
the man relishes in his meal, the shadow of another passes across the patio
behind him, just out of sight. As the shadow grows closer, one would expect the
man to notice the other, but he simply goes about the business of finishing his
food. When the figure behind him pulls something from inside his jacket, the man
at the table pauses before placing the next morsel in his mouth to say, “You
might as well take a seat and join me, Higaeri… You won’t get anywhere with
that thing.” The
silent man stops, shocked at the comment, but does not betray it to the man
seated before him. Instead, Toman Higaeri re-holsters his blaster and takes the
seat opposite the man at the table. Looking up to meet the gaze of his new
arrival, Meklin Suul only smiles at the smuggler chief. Finishing his morsel of
food, he then calls out, “Horn! Bring Master Higaeri a place setting. He will
be joining me for morning meal.” Suul then nods at Higaeri, hoping to get a
reaction out of the man, but knowing that is complete lack of reaction will
serve for the same result; Toman was still reeling from his discovery. Once
his servant had served his new guest, Suul begins the conversation, “So,
Higaeri, to what do I owe this attempt on my life?” His sinister grin is only
topped by his surprising question. Toman,
in an attempt to regain his composure, swallows his food and answers the man,
“Attempt? No, I only wished to speak with you, Suul, and I wanted to make
certain I was heard.” Laughing
at the response, he continues, “So, what did you wish to speak to me about?” Trying
to appear non-chalant, Toman attempts to confirm his suspicions, “I was rather
impressed with your recent accomplishments, Suul… Corning the market like that
was a sight to behold. Took some
real talent to engineer that one, old friend.” His
smile is genuine, but Suul knows that Higaeri is only fishing for information.
“Just like a Chandrillan: always fishing.” Catching
the double meaning of his comment, Higaeri is now certain that Suul is behind
everything. Worse yet, he used Toman’s own greed to insure his plans. And,
just when he is about to go after a bit more information, he sees another
approaching from backside of the patio balcony. A dark man, whose very presence
sends a chill down Toman’s spine. As the man gets closer, he realizes just who
this dark man is, and it’s not just his spine that grows cold this time.
Jumping up from the table, Toman draws his blaster once more, “Are you insane,
Suul?!” Looking down at Suul in astonishment as he continues to eat his meal
without a moment’s hesitation. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU HAVE
UNLEASHED?!” Bringing
his weapon to bear on the closely approaching man, Toman cannot believe what he
has been made a part to this time. He knew that one day, his vices would be his
undoing, but he never imagined that they would also take down everything that he
held dear. Having
finally finished his meal, Suul wipes his mouth with his napkin and pushes away
from the table. “My ‘old friend,’ I know exactly what I have done.
Corellia is now the economic, military and transportation might of the universe!
What does it matter to me if Chandrila is in ruins, the Kuatis have been shamed
for next few centuries or that some two-bit semi-reformed pirate has been
blasted out of the ozone? Better yet, those meddling mystics have been set back
at least another fifty years, making them someone else’s problem when they can
finally reorganize.” Motioning for the Lord Lusankya to join him, Suul then
leans back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head and begins to
chuckle, “You are simply upset that you didn’t get to profit from it as much
as you would have liked, Higaeri.” The
dark lord passes closely by Higaeri, knocking him hard to the ground in a heap.
Laughing out loud this time, Suul chortles at the thought, “Your envy and
greed will always be your downfall, man!” As
laughter begins to fill the air, both from Suul and Lusankya, another sound cuts
through it like the whipping tail of a krayt dragon. When Toman looks up, he
finds Lusankya jumping back out of his seat and the face of Suul frozen in
place, as a single drop of blood falls from the newly formed hole in the center
of his forehead. It
takes a moment for the sight to register in Toman’s brain, but as his
faculties begin to return, he knows exactly what has happened, and single
thought pops into his head: DUCK! And, just as the words appear in his mind, and he dives under
the table, he can feel the slug entering his leg with a ferocity that only now
does he understand. He had always wondered why Orion used those blasted things,
and now he knows the answer: pain is a powerful tool and an even more powerful
motivator. Right now, at this very moment, he values his life more than he ever
has before, and the pain searing through his leg at this very moment is the
reason. Paying
no attention to the fact that Orion has launched himself from his deadly perch
and is raging head-long into the path of the dark lord, Toman’s brain is only
filled with the idea that he must get out of there, and damn fast, at that. All
hell was about to break loose on that patio balcony, and he had no desire to
witness it. Dragging himself into the bushes from whence he came, Toman manages
to hoist himself up over the hedge, and then comes crashing down onto the
neighboring rooftop. Reaching into his pocket he finds the beacon and quickly
activates it. Keeping a careful watch over the bushes, and making certain that
one was coming after him, Toman kept his blaster at the ready, hoping it would
buy him enough time. His focus was such that he almost did not hear the repulsor
engines of his hovercar until the large Togarian at the helm called out to him
in his mewling tone, “Massster Tomannn!” Hearing the familiar voice, he
hurled himself off the roof and into the awaiting car. “JUST
GO!” He howled at his felinoid rescuer, “Just go!” And off they sped away,
leaving Toman with his life, and very little else. He had lost so much today: he
had lost so much in his greed. It would be a very long recovery for this once
proud man; very long indeed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ In
solemn silence, a group of robed persons file into their two ships upon the
landing field of the Great Hall of Chandrila. This field was once a showplace
for the finest craft in the entire system, but now, in the wake of the recent
strife, more closely resembles a military compound. All around the two distinct
vessels are the craft of the military elite. Nearly two squadrons of WaveRunners
sit to the right of the sleek, black & gold freighter, and to the left of
the bulky cruiser are a more than a dozen RipTides,
all looking as though they had seen plenty of action in recent days. Loaded just
inside the cargo hold of the freighter is a third ship, a two-man starfighter of
undeterminable origin. As
the robed figures turn from their well wishers and enter their vessels, a somber
mood can be felt by all present. These noble beings have sacrificed much for the
safety of this place, and for that matter they have sacrificed all that they had
to insure the safety of the universe itself. Also
in the cargo bay of the freighter lie the remains of those whom have fallen in
this horrific action. Shrouded in grief, the figures bid their farewells and
begin to depart from this watery coastal world. When
their ships lift off from the landing field, those remaining on the ground,
stand firm and offer up a salute; in the only gesture they can think of to
muster up for these devastated beings. In the faces of every pilot and soldier
in that field is the gratitude for their ultimate sacrifice. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A
lone woman enters the cockpit of the SkyDancer
and lays a caring hand on the shoulder of gray haired man she finds there. The
man places his hand over hers, and pats it in reassurance. She
is the first to break their silence, “Master, he hasn’t spoken since the
Chamber… I just-…” Cutting
her off, he speaks, “We must respect his grief, young one.” Heaving a deep
sigh, he resigns himself to his own advice, “When he is ready, he will
speak.” Knowing
there are no words, nor any argument for her Master’s response, she simply
nods her head and breathes deeply, knowing that she will need great strength
upon returning to Sanctuary. The grieving has only yet begun. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Seeing
the sniper leap from his perch, Lord Corevi Lusankya knows that his fate will
not be so quick. No, this man, this raging beast of a man plans to rip from him
his life with bare hands and not a single slug. His death must have powerful
importance to the rampaging man before him. However, Corevi has no desire to
allow such a thing to come to pass. In fact, none has ever bested him in hand to
hand combat, and this day would be no different. Reaching
to his side, Corevi draws the trisaber from its scabbard, and as he takes the
ready position he charges the blades. Humming from the energy coursing through
its tempered metal, the trisaber is a well-known, and quite deadly weapon. It
has never known a master of it such as Corevi, for he has never lost in any
battle with it, including the one with his sister. In that moment of clarity,
Corevi realizes that his sole purpose in his sister’s graces was to act as her
very own battle dog. However, she had shielded him from harm for his entire
life, and protected his vices with all of her power, and regardless of her
motives, he still grieved for her death. As
he could not yet exact his revenge on those responsible, this beast before him
would have to suffice, in the meantime. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With
nothing on his mind but wrenching the life from the hideous beast before him,
Victor Orion moves with such speed and force that nothing short of megaton of
ferrocrete could hope to stop him on his quest. Seeing nothing but the dark lord
before him, he readies himself for the attack. Having known the man would draw a
trisaber, Vic comes prepared and draws a considerable vibroblade of his own with
which to battle despicable being before him. With
the ground closing between them, Vic is ready for anything. Getting within
striking distance of the dark lord, he lunges at the man with the full force of
body and draws the first blood with is fist connecting squarely into the dark
lord’s nose. Vic manages to narrowly roll away from the man, sacrificing only
the leather of his vest. In
shock, Corevi spins wildly around only to find Vic’s leg sweeping him off of
his feet. Realizing what is coming next in just enough time, Corevi himself
rolls away from the crushing elbow dive of Orion. Now on his feet once more,
Corevi lunges for the man with the trisaber, but once again, only manages to
catch the man’s clothing: this time his pants come away with a slash. Knowing
that this will be a battle to the death, Vic takes no chances and gives the man
no time to calculate any of his moves by coming at him at every possible moment.
Time has evaporated in his mind, and the only thing that matters now is that Vic
sees this man’s blood pooling around his dead and broken body. He goes
straight in at the man with his vibroblade, and though he makes a hit on his
shoulder as he attempts to spin away from Vic’s attacks, the dark lord finally
draws blood on Vic: catching him on the chin and sending ripples of pain through
Vic’s body. However, Vic has now crossed an invisible line and that pain only
serves to feed his rage and hatred, thereby making him all the more dangerous. Reaching
deep within those pools of hatred and agony, Vic lurches out at the man once
more, this landing a cracking blow to the dark lord’s chin, sending him
reeling to the ground from the force of his blow. Blood pouring from his mouth,
the dark lord spits as he attempts to restore himself to his feet before he is
tackled by Vic, and crushing him into the patio stones and causing bones to
break in his body. The
dark lord manages to kick Vic off of him, but when he arises from this attack,
he finds that he cannot raise his right arm, as it hangs limp at his side with
his collar bone protruding slightly from the skin. This was not a man to
underestimate, and as a result the dark lord suffers greatly. He deftly moves
the trisaber to his left hand and makes an attack on this mystery man once more.
Slicing through the air and into the side of the man, Corevi feels satisfaction
in the drawing of the other’s blood, and reaches out to cut again. This time
he finds the flesh of the man’s leg, and buries the blade deeply into his
thigh. However, the man does not cry out, he simply buries his own blade into
the gut of Corevi, twisting it as he falls away from the dark lord. Corevi
stand up straight, strains with his crippled right arm and rips the vibroblade
from his midsection, screaming with such a fury that it feels as though the very
heavens were coming down upon them. Seeing
the man lying on the patio stones, Corevi also knows that he is now unarmed and
he moves in for the kill. The man, however, has other plans, and he rolls away
from Corevi’s attack and struggles to get to his feet. Recovering from his
failed attack, Corevi whips around and lunges at the man again, this time he
manages to slice into the side of the man, but not before he landing a pounding
blow to Corevi’s temple, knocking the sight from his eyes as he is once again
sent to the floor with heavy thud. Desperately
trying to get up from the floor, Corevi pulls at the hedges he has landed
against for help, but this time the man slams a chair against his right side,
sending waves of absolute agony through his broken bones. Swinging wildly with
the trisaber, Corevi attempts to fight him off and finds the man’s side once
more, this time gouging out a chunk of flesh in the process. But, the man simply
allows the blood to pour from his body as he rips the trisaber from Corevi’s
weakened grasp and then plunges it deep into Corevi’s solar-plexus causing the
very air from his body to evacuate in a single moment. Not understanding what is
happening to him, Corevi looks down at the trisaber as it rests firmly in his
body. He then looks up into the fiery eyes of his attacker, looking for some
kind of clue as to what has just happened, and in those dark and hate filled
orbs, he sees it: his death has come. Staggering
away from the remains of the dark lord, Vic only now begins to falter. Blood
pouring from his midsection, his thigh and his face, Vic more closely resembles
the corpse in front of him than the man he once was. Hate and anger still
coursing through his every fiber. That hate and anger are the only things
keeping him standing at this moment, but soon, they begin to ebb. As
they start to fade, Vic can feel something else flowing into his body, but the
sensation is not enough to keep him upright, and he falls into a heap on the
stone floor. Still, he can feel something else creeping into his body, just as
the blood continues to flow out of it. Something that he cannot describe, let
alone understand. Something that is filling him with a warmth he finds it hard
to ever remember. Struggling to breathe from his exhaustion and his blood loss,
he fights to identify the feeling that is now overtaking him. And then, in a
moment of pure clarity, he gets it, and a smile slowly makes its way onto his
face, as he breathes in his final breath in this universe.
Creator: PtrsonsZOO (Jennifer)
*SPECIAL NOTE: Due to circumstances beyond our control, the rest of the story will be written by PtrsonsZOO (Jennifer)
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